12/10/2010: Happy birthday, the midnight rhapsody.

It's something I'll never admit, but I like being held. Some people say dancing is a sport, but I disagree; sports are never this comfortable, this safe. I can't remember a time when I felt like this. Not even before Kairi died.

Marluxia is behind me and I'm leaning into him, but Larxene's in front of me and she's leaning on me. It's comfortable like this. I'm safe here between two of the least safe people in my life – maybe it's just the crazy talking, but I'd rather be around them than around, say, Roxas. In a way, they rescue me from myself. I might be terrified or embarrassed half the time, but with them, I am never alone. They want me. In some weird way, they need me, and I know that.

Larxene's mostly leaning on me because she can't stand up by herself, and I'm mostly leaning on Marluxia because I'm a weakling. But it's too great to really think about the reasons very hard.

"We should go," he tells me, leaning down to whisper into my hair. It's weirdly intimate.

"Probably," I tell him. "I'm sure they're going to close soon."

My voice hasn't acted up all night. I've been dancing with both of them and in a crowd and my voice still hasn't acted up. It's nothing short of a miracle, for real.

Part of me doesn't want to leave. There's something magic here and I know once we leave it will end. Thing about magic is, it's not real. It exists in a single moment and then disappears. Like twilight. False magic makes me think about Olivia and Cesario and how reality always seems like a consolation prize. Sebastian will never be exactly who she wants him to be and a real person knows that.

…It's never worth the heartbreak. We need to leave now.

"Come on, Larxene," I say.

"Yeah, sure," she replies. It's kind of funny that now, when she's totally wasted, she's more complacent. I don't know why or how that happened, but I know I'll be drawing this scene later. I'll look back on this later and smile, after I'm done being stupidly sentimental.

I must be more tired than I thought. I only really think about stuff like this when I'm tired and I can't control myself at all. "Marluxia, a little help?"

I hear him laugh and push me away, but I know he's just coming around to get Larxene. I'm not even panicking, like I would have just weeks ago.

He lifts her up completely – goddamn, that boy's strong – and jerks his head like follow me, which I do. I won't even think about how I'd probably follow him anywhere at this point, because that's a bad train of thought. Also I'm exhausted, and it's a little hard to put one foot in front of the other.

I forgot how exhausting being in crowds is. You're only energized until you stop moving.

I'm pretty sure if I get any closer to Marluxia he'll think I'm trying to make a move on him or something. I have no idea how that would go down, but I'm guessing not very well. I almost want to grope him on purpose, just to see what would happen, but I won't; I'm not that creepy.

Also I have more self-control than that. I mean, there are so many times I haven't pressed the red button I should get an award or something.

The door is a welcome sight. I mean, it's not like I haven't seen it since we got here, but just the thought of…I'm glad we're getting out of here. There's only so much fun a person can have before it stops being fun, right? I take a deep breath and I feel a smile pull at my mouth. The air smells much better out here, even with the lingering scent of cigarettes and regurgitated booze clinging to the pavement.

That is fucking saying something. It's funny how I'm only noticing this now.

"Come on, Larx," he tells her, opening the door of the backseat with one hand. "You've got to duck your head or I can't help you in."

"I don't want to leave yet," she says, kinda huffily. It's cute.

"Deal." He pushes her head down with his hand. I guess being gentle got on his nerves. "We're leaving anyway."

He shuts the door quickly and I get in the passenger seat. It's weird, now that she's falling asleep in the back and Marluxia's sitting next to me. "Where are we going?"

He shrugs and starts the car. "I'm thinking we should either check into a hotel somewhere, or stop for food and coffee. I'm completely worn, and it's a longer drive than I'm comfortable with otherwise."

"What do you want to do?"

"Honestly?" He makes an amused noise in his throat. "I want to go home as soon as possible. I don't like this city – don't tell Larxene, she's proud of where she comes from, but I'd rather slit my own throat than stay here for more than a few hours."

"Then coffee's our best bet," I say. "Will she be okay?"

"She's unsurprisingly resilient. She'll have to sleep it off, but as long as we keep her talking, she won't fall asleep until the ride home, and I doubt she'll be sick tomorrow."

I feel myself smiling. I don't know why I'm smiling so much lately; I mean, they're barely even real smiles. I have nothing to smile about. But they keep coming on their own. Maybe it's like, my body or my subconscious recognizes something that my…heart doesn't. Or is it the other way around? My heart recognizes something I don't?

Whatever. Maybe it doesn't matter. My smiles are not grimaces anymore, at least when I'm around Marluxia. That can be good enough for me.

I see him roll his neck a little and I'm seized with the sudden urge to rub his shoulders. I won't, but I kinda want to. I guess tonight's taken me back farther than anything else has. I remember when all I ever wanted was to make him comfortable, to please him. It's that urge. I'm older now, and maybe not wiser but definitely more able to contain my urges, and I know what he wants. He wants the Naminé with a spine, not the pliant, submissive wimp who was too afraid of being alone to really have a personality.

And maybe I still want to please the people I actually care about, but I can actually give him that. So it all works out.

I am acutely aware of Larxene's head next to mine. I look over and she's giving Marluxia this awful grin I'll probably have nightmares about. "Where are we going?"

Dude. I just asked that question. Where were you?

"To get coffee."

I blink. "You should get some potassium and vitamin C into your system when we get there, Larxene; it will help you metabolize the alcohol."

Ah, fuck. There goes my mouth, stealing the wrong words from my brain. Out of all the thoughts I have, couldn't it have chosen something a little less…condescending? Everybody knows that. She probably thinks I'm talking down to her or something.

"Yeah, I'm not an idiot," she says. The effect is somewhat lessened by her inability to enunciate.

"You should sit back," Marluxia tells her. He didn't tell me to sit back. Then again, I wasn't drunk. A seatbelt will probably do Larxene a world of good.

She gives us this loud, put-upon sigh and does what he asked. I hear the click of the seatbelt and, guiltily, I put mine on as well. I don't know why I feel guilty. It's not like –

How much time has passed? How long has it been since I heard that…crunch?

I don't think I've ever heard something so horrible. My eyes are closed and already I can feel my head throbbing where it hit the passenger side window and that was the most sickening sound I've ever heard.

If a dinosaur had metal teeth, this is what being chewed up by it would sound – and feel – like. It's only thanks to Marluxia's superior driving skills that I…

Wait.

"Marluxia?"

Why do my lips feel wet? I think I'm drooling. Gross. Also my words sound weird.

I try to open my eyes, but it hurts my head. "Marluxia."

He doesn't answer. Maybe he's too shocked. We don't have clubs or bars in Traverse Town, so seeing somebody speeding out of a parking lot like that…it just doesn't happen. He might be one of the smartest people I've ever known, but he's still sort of sheltered.

"Ugh," Larxene says behind me. "The hell was that for, Marlene?"

He still doesn't answer. I have this…really terrible feeling. I don't want this terrible feeling, but I have it.

I force my eyes open and suddenly I wish I hadn't.

Marluxia's superior driving skills? It's thanks to those that I'm relatively unharmed, at least as far as I know, and Larxene's still talking. It's also 'thanks' to those that he looks like, well, he just got hit by a truck. There's a giant dent in his door, and the window's completely busted. That…must be why the side of my face is stinging.

"Marluxia, wake the fuck up," Larxene says, leaning forward before hissing. She probably got thrown around. But I agree with her sentiments. He needs to wake up. Just open his eyes a little. I close my eyes again because it hurts too much to keep them open.

"C'mon, Marluxia," I say, even though moving my mouth feels weird. I reach out to shake him, but he doesn't move.

It's all fuzzy, like somebody put a thin wool sweater over my head. I'm having trouble concentrating on even his shoulder and I have this feeling in me growing, like panic or something but not. I can't grab hold of it just like I can't really grab hold of him.

"Wake up," Larxene demands. I feel kinda bad for her, or at least I think I do. Or I think I would? Isn't it hard to process things when you're drunk? She must be terrified. Goddamn, it's hard to think.

"He's not dead, Naminé," she says. "He's not going to…he said he'd never…I'm dying first, everybody knows that."

The desperation in her voice worries me. I don't want to think about what she's implying. I hear her pressing buttons in the back and her slurred words, "We're in an accident? Somebody hit us, Marly's not moving and you need to get here because you have to make his heart start again."

No, no, no. Larxene's right. He's not. He's not.

There's a voice. Telling me to…what? Stay awake? Did I fall asleep? I'm…there's something under me, hard. That's Larxene's voice telling me to open my eyes, I can't leave her alone. Marluxia left us, I can't leave her too. What is she even talking –

Everything is purple. There's somebody talking and I can't breathe and I hate it and everything is purple and I think I can see my dad's face but he's purple. I can't move my arms and I can't breathe. I can move my hand but I can't move my arm because somebody tied me down. I hate the ones who did this and turned everything purple. I can't remember any sign language so I don't know how to tell them something's in my mouth stopping me from getting breath. He's saying something but I can't hear and he's purple. Somebody else is leaning over me too and doing something and there's more room for breathing now but I can't do it and I'm tied down and everything is purple.

There's a guy in a hospital that needs my help but I can't help him. I can breathe now and I can move my arms now but why won't they let me help him? Who is 'they?' Where am I? The world is back to normal. It's not purple anymore and there are no faces.

I hate the smell of hospital blankets. They remind me of past mistakes and cancer. My head is pounding, but I think that's because it's inordinately bright in here. I'm not really sure why I'm here, but obviously I got injured somehow. Okay, time to take stock of my injuries…god, if I can clear my brain.

My face hurts. I have a giant painful spot on the right side of the back of my head. I can move my toes, but my left hand feels weak. My right hand feels fine – good, I can still finish my…I have a project that needs to be finished. Right.

My tongue hurts really, really bad, and I taste blood. I think I bit it. Why would I bite my tongue hard enough to make the taste linger in my mouth? That's a stupid thing to do.

Larxene is beside me with her head on her arms on the side of my bed, one hand latched onto mine. It reminds me of…of Kairi, and me, and how much I ended up ruining just before she died. "Larxene?"

I sound retarded and my throat hurts. I may be dehydrated. Why would I be…how long have I been here?

Her head pops up and before I even properly register the puffy eyes she's saying, "Took you long enough."

It sounds like something I might say. To make it easier. "How long…did it take?"

"You were out for…god, it was horrible, you…two days, Naminé. You kept us waiting for two days."

Us. That's right, we…that guy T-boned us. But she said us, which means Marluxia is still alive. "Where is he?"

She gives me a weird look. "He who?"

"Marluxia." It's annoying that it sounded like 'Ma-roo-zha.' I guess I still don't have full control over my mouth yet. Not that I ever did, but at least I was able to enunciate properly.

"Don't talk about him. You know where he is."

I have that stupid sinky feeling again, but there's no reason, right? I mean, she said us. That means he's waiting too. Maybe he's in another hospital room. That would make sense; I think I'm in the ICU. "What room?"

"You're stupid. Why am I here? You're stupid, you…you almost died too, and you're asking about stupid imaginary things. Can't you just stop?"

Yeah, sinking feeling is no more, I'm completely sunk. Despite what she said, and how I feel right now because of the fuzz in my brain, I'm not completely stupid. I know what she's driving at. I don't like it, but I know.

I can feel tears. I don't want them to be there but I can feel tears, and she's still holding my hand even though she's sort of yelling at me. Some nurse or doctor is probably going to come in here and tell her to be quiet or check on me or something.

"What happened?" I need her to tell me. I need to hear it.

Suddenly she doesn't look mad anymore. She leans down to put her cheek on my hand and that small thing makes me even sadder and I can't stop leaking tears. "In the accident, he…they couldn't revive him. And then you were freaking out, like foaming at the mouth and it was…then you just weren't awake. You were alive and you didn't have any more seizures, but you wouldn't wake up."

There's so much going on in my head right now but I can't really hold onto any of it. I want to ask so many questions and I want to stop crying and I want this to just not be happening. God, why? Why. I'm so angry right now and even though I want to scream at her to stop lying to me, I know she wouldn't lie about this. Maybe about something else, but not about this.

I'm angry because he was alive. He got out of the hospital and he was alive and before we left he was holding me in his arms like a present. Like I was important to him. He still has a restaurant to take care of and he has gardens and we gave him a book he hasn't read yet. He has to be here to do all those things and I'm angry because he's not.

Why did he have to die? Why does everyone I love have to die? It's like I'm poisonous or something. If you touch me you'll disappear. When is Zexion going to die on me? Larxene should wise up and leave before something happens to her, too. Why did he have to die? It should have been me. I want it to have been me.

I'm the poisonous one. They'd be better off without me.

I know I'm being irrational, but I can't stop feeling this. I can't stop thinking this. Intellectually, I know that my conclusion is impossible – I mean, this is the natural order of things, everybody dies – but I keep thinking it's me. It feels like it's me. Like it's my fault this deadly poison, reality, gets spilled over everybody's sweet little candy hearts.