Chapter: 036 – The Twilight Zone.
Location: Twilight Town
Characters: Lexaeus, Zexion, Axel, Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene.
Rating/Warnings: R / MA? A bit of swearing, random gay sex. Worksafe version: here.
Summary: Proper civilization, at long last! Finally our heroes can get the rest they deserve. ... That is, no rest for the wicked?
Authors' Note: Two things. First - this chapter was co-written by all three of your writers. An interesting result, yes? Second - this is the last chapter of the first part of The Renegades. But never fear, the first chapter of Book II should be up soon. You didn't think we'd give the dears a break did you..?

Chapter 036 : Twilight Town – The Twilight Zone. (XXX)

Lexaeus' shoulders felt tense. He would not say it was the town- though its near proximity to the Darkness was slightly worrying- because the warm, rich, eternal twilight was soothing.

No, it was the fact that they were back in a civilized world, full of people, full of danger, full of uncertainty.

Zexion would call him anti-social, would claim that he just didn't like people, and that he simply needed to get out more.

Ha. I am sorry, Zexion, but you are one to talk.

He pushed that to the back of his mind, sighing. "All right, Axel," he said tiredly. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well," Axel rubbed his chin, nodding towards a street. "There's a hotel, that way, down the street by the railroad station plaza. It's not too far, if I remember right… Let's go, huh?"

Vexen was uncharacteristically nervous, wringing his hands. "I am not certain that this is a good idea," he said quietly.

"It is the best we had," Lexaeus rumbled, gesturing a bit. "Lead on, Axel. Show us this hotel."

Axel nodded, and turned, starting down the street when, out of a side alley, a streak of camo and blond ran slap-bang into him. Cursing (and it was difficult to tell who swore louder, Axel or the blond), the pair fell in a tangle of limbs, kicking and flailing to try and pull away.

Lexaeus, looking skyward seeking patience, waded in and pulled Axel up by an arm and the boy up by the collar of his shirt. Brown eyes sparked angrily under a mop of wiry, slicked-back wavy hair. "Put me down!"

"You should watch where you're going," Lexaeus rumbled, setting the boy back on the ground.

"You should mind your own business," the boy retorted, and before Lexaeus could reply, was off and running again, down a side street.

"…I already hate this place," Marluxia told Larxene, briefly forgetting that he wasn't on speaking terms with her. She merely nodded soberly in reply.

Lexaeus dusted off his hands and glanced at Zexion. The Schemer had a frown on his face and was eying Lexaeus in a way that told the Silent Hero that he had either done something wrong, or Zexion had noticed something particularly disturbing.

Things can never go right, can they.

"Come," he said, letting go of Axel's arm slowly. "Show us the way, Axel."

The hotel was a simple place, with a simple sign and enough rooms for them to go two to a room. Lexaeus, as the keeper of the munny, handed over the amount for the room and frowned to himself as he made a note of how much they had remaining. Expensive, I think, but worth it in the end. We all need some time… apart.

"What next?" Larxene was leaning against the doorframe, watching people walk around the streets. "Man, this place is boring."

"It gets lively… sometimes," Axel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Zexion rubbed at his nose, gratefully accepting a tissue the desk clerk offered him. "I think I will rest for a while," he said, blowing his nose into the tissue. "This place might help," he added. "It's warm at least."

"And not wet," Larxene added with relish. "Not wet, of all things…"

Lexaeus took the keys when the clerk handed them over. "Enjoy your stay," he said, all smiles. The Silent Hero merely nodded and drifted over to join the others. "Zexion and I are in room two," he said, pressing the other two keys into Vexen's hands. "We can afford three rooms, and these people will not look down on us depending on how we divide ourselves."

"Well, I know who my roommie is," Axel grinned widely and slid his arm around Larxene's waist. She tittered in response and leaned on him, smile wide and tinged with faint cruelty.

Marluxia and Vexen looked at each other slowly, with near-identical expressions of muted disgust and horror.

"Surely," Vexen said, turning to face Lexaeus, "we can afford another room?"

"No," Lexaeus rumbled, as firm and unyielding as a mountain. And, like a mountain, it would take more time than Vexen had to erode and chip away at his determination. "Now, what are we doing next, is it decided?"

"Well, I know little weasel there wants to rest," Larxene said, smirking faintly. Zexion glared, but said nothing in response. "And since he's all sicky-poo, let's let him rest and go do something fun, Lexy."

"No," Lexaeus said, utterly flatly, resting a hand on Zexion's shoulder as the other Nobody began to growl faintly. "I will be staying with Zexion. He needs my care."

Larxene rolled her eyes. "He's not dying," she began, but Axel cut her off.

"I've got some things to do," he said, letting go of her waist. "Why don't you have a look around town, Larxene? I think you might like it."

"No killing," Lexaeus added, eyes narrowed. "Though by this point I should not have to tell you that. Either of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Axel muttered, waving a hand and jamming his hands down into his pockets. "Whatever, Dad." He skulked off without another word, never looking back.

"Sourpuss," Larxene scowled. "I guess a girl's got to make her own fun these days. Ciao, boys." She plucked a key out of Vexen's unresisting hand, winked and flounced off in the opposite direction of Axel.

"I trust the two of you can amuse yourselves without getting into trouble," Lexaeus transferred his gaze to Marluxia and Vexen.

"I'm not a child," Marluxia snapped, indignantly, but Vexen was already leaving. Apparently, he hadn't heard what Lexaeus had said.

"He has his own agenda, I suppose," Zexion muttered, blowing his nose into his tissue. "Ugh. I'm going to go lie down. This twilight is lovely and all, but it's giving me a headache and making me tired."

"Behave yourself, Marluxia," Lexaeus said, and there was more than a hint of warning to his tone as he gently laid a hand on Zexion's shoulder and guided him up the stairs to their room.

Brushing by a rabble of local teenagers slouching at the street corner outside, Vexen hurriedly made his way away from the hotel, quite unable to stand the others' presence for another minute.
One of the young ruffians straightened as though to call out to him, no doubt looking for trouble, or entertainment - which when it came to that kind of teens often seemed to be the very same thing. He studiously ignored them and hurried his steps, easily leaving them behind.

The town was large enough to house its fair share of shops and restaurants, yet small enough to be quiet, even drowsy. Or maybe it was just the approaching nightfall that wrapped the place in such a lulling blanket of tranquility, he absently thought as he walked down narrow streets.
High above blazed the magnificent sunset, painting the skies a hundred shades of gold and red and fire, fire, fire…

He shuddered in spite of himself.
There was a restlessness inside him, a crawling, unpleasant sensation buzzing along his nerves as he hurried across a half-empty square.

The town was not really familiar to him, but a part of it had been etched ruthlessly into his memory, and that place, through the wall, here, and then the forest, was where he was heading now. Not for any rational purpose, not really knowing what it was he hoped for or wanted to find, but from the moment he had breathed the summery air under those red skies again the urge hadn't left him alone.

The notion was worse than just folly, it was irrational, and yet, even as he tried to convince himself thus with every fiber of his being, he succumbed to it slavishly nonetheless.

Soft moss muffled his footsteps as he slowed his impatient strides, almost notably hesitating before leaving the relative protection of the trees behind.

The illusion created from Sora's – no, Roxas' - memories had been close to perfect; the scene before him exactly as he remembered.
High sandstone walls overrun with ivy, once imposing but now half-rusted iron gates, an overgrown path leading up to a large abandoned and neglected house glimpsed beyond.

The small grassy area between forest and gates.

He stood silent, no longer able to keep the memories at bay.

The Keybearer had stood there, innocent, justified anger and confusion in his large blue eyes. He himself had knelt here, every cell aching after battling first Riku, then Sora, then Sora again… He had managed to drag himself to his feet, throwing all refinement to the winds for one final gamble, desperate to make the boy turn back, go away, and then Axel had appeared there…

He glanced down at his hands. They were shaking violently and he stared emptily at them.

The first blazing chakram had hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet again. He'd gotten up one last time, distantly remembered begging and pleading.
And then…

Suddenly, illogically, the world was spinning and he staggered back against the wall for support, slid down it until he was sitting on the grass, and still he felt like falling. Cold sweat made his hair stick to his face, blinding him, and violent tremors shook his entire being, his stunned mind desperately struggling to understand, find a rational explanation for what he shouldn't be able to feel.

Fear.

Choking, paralyzing, impossible fear, the taste of it bitter and tangy on his tongue.

There had been the stink of smoke, of burning hair and flesh, and pain, such impossible pain…
There was an odd, choked sound and he realized it had come from himself, laughed a breathless sobbing laugh, closed his eyes, tried to get his breathing under control.

He was still shaking, and there was no reason. He couldn't really feel it, it wasn't there, just instinct, a body's and mind's normal response to an overly taxing situation, he knew that, and yet, yet…

Had he come here hoping for closure? Thinking that by confronting the scene of his unspeakably vile death the memories could be put aside, conveniently categorized, ignored and forgotten?
A faulty hypothesis, apparently. Memories were what shaped the core and soul of a higher level Nobody, after all, and this was one memory he would never be free of, scarred by it, twisted by it forever more.

Damned be Axel, to have burnt his mark upon his very being like so!

And damned to hell be Marluxia; enticing, alluring, traitorous Marluxia, for so callously speaking the order in the first place.

There were no tears; so complete was not the phantom-pain emotion, and no such simple, human release from the raging confusion, pain and shock was offered him.
Even so he pulled his knees closer to his chest and hid his face in his shaking hands, wanting no longer to see this place, to remember, to so very, very nearly feel.

They had all betrayed him. All of them, so easily, without second thought.
Would no doubt do it just as easily again.
And they were all he had.

Damn them, damn them, damn them, every last one of them.

Zexion lay down on the bed, eyes closed, holding the tissue to his nose. "This sucks," he told Lexaeus, voice rather thick.

Lexaeus closed the shutters and settled beside him. "It's just a small cold," he said, one arm settling around him loosely. "Nothing too terrible."

"I hate being sick," the Cloaked Schemer mumbled. "I never get sick. Ever."

"I know," Lexaeus murmured, stroking his hair lightly. "If I could make you feel better, I would."

"I know," Zexion grumbled, looking away. He sighed, feeling the pressure on his sinuses easing with his new posture. "Are we alone?"

"Completely," Lexaeus murmured, continuing to stroke his lover's hair. "Everyone else has left, and besides, this is our own room. I have locked the door."

"Good," Zexion rolled over, finally looking at Lexaeus. "Our last world did little to… encourage intimacy."

"That is true," Lexaeus rumbled, his hand briefly stilling in Zexion's hair before continuing to gently comb and stroke out the small tangles.

"However, we are alone now," Zexion murmured, fingers sneaking up under Lexaeus' shirt to wander slowly over corded muscle. "Quite alone."

"Mm, yes," Lexaeus' eyes watched him, though his expression didn't change. "Are you quite certain you feel well enough for this?"

Zexion gave him a short, flat, unimpressed look. "I'm not terminally ill, Lexaeus," he said. Lexaeus could only nod, and he continued. "It's only a slight cold."

"I realize that," Lexaeus agreed.

"I am completely capable of seducing you right here and now," Zexion snorted, then sneezed and groaned. "Oh, hell."

Lexaeus mutely handed him a tissue. "Perhaps I shall make you feel better," he suggested, pulling Zexion flush against him. "Will that help?"

"Mm." Zexion held the tissue to his nose, blinking slowly. "Perhaps…"

Chuckling, Lexaeus wasted no time in carefully tugging Zexion's pants open and pushing them off of slender hips. When Zexion tried to push Lexaeus' shirt off on return, he found both delicate wrists caught in one hand and held to his chest, while Lexaeus continued to undress him with only one hand. "Lexaeus…"

He trailed off, shivered as dark eyes met his own. "Relax, Zexion," Lexaeus rumbled, and kissed Zexion's knuckles. "You should know by now that I would not harm you."

"Mm." Zexion slowly relaxed, eyes sliding shut and sighing. "Yes." It was still difficult, on occasion, to trust anyone, even the man who had proven himself ready and willing to die on Zexion's word.

He swallowed a gasp as Lexaeus' fingers curled around him, stroking him carefully, coaxing him into full hardness with barely any effort at all. "Ah," he said after a moment, hips rocking slightly. "Lexaeus…"

He tugged on his wrists, lightly, just to see if Lexaeus would relinquish his hold, and moaned quietly when the large Nobody's grip only tightened. He had given control to Lexaeus before, but had always felt that Lexaeus would do whatever he asked when he asked it. He was no longer certain of that fact now- perhaps something of the previous world had sparked some change in him. He wasn't entirely certain that he didn't enjoy it.

"Lexaeus," he said again, softly, almost a plea, hips rocking into Lexaeus' too-slow, gentle touch.

He was rewarded with a slight squeeze, and the brush of lips across his shoulder and neck. "Relax, Zexion," Lexaeus rumbled, eyes eerily bright, drinking in the sight and sound of his small lover under his control. "This is to make you feel better…"

Zexion inwardly winced as small, helpless, mewling noises escaped his lips, hips rocking mindlessly, desperate for more than the light, teasing strokes Lexaeus was giving him.

By the time Lexaeus trailed scalding kisses down his chest, he was already half-mad with need.

"Lexaeus," he managed, and it had been the only thing he could manage to say for some time, he was aware of that. He bucked and groaned as Lexaeus took him into his mouth with no trouble, no hesitation, no more teasing. Oh. Oh, Powers. Oh. "Lexaeus," he said again, weaving his fingers into Lexaeus' wiry hair. "Ah… yes, Lexaeus…"

He curled forward, just slightly, trying to arch closer, craving more contact, his discomfort and sinus pressure entirely forgotten. He couldn't even focus on anything but Lexaeus' lips, his tongue, good Gods, how long had it been?

Much too long, because it took an embarrassingly short time for Zexion's vision to go white, and for his breath to be completely taken away as his release hit him. He fell back, barely conscious of Lexaeus' hand finally letting go of his wrists and wrapping around his back, lying him down in a more controlled fall.

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the world righted itself and Lexaeus lay down beside him. "Gods," he slurred, blinking hazily. "Mm. Lexaeus."

"Rest," Lexaeus pressed a kiss to his forehead. "A nap will make you feel much better, now."

"Mm," Zexion had no strength to fight, and besides, Lexaeus was "in charge" at the moment. Not for long, though. Just this once. It can't hurt for a little while. It is Lexaeus, after all. He's… safe.

Smiling, Zexion closed his eyes, heedless of Lexaeus rising and moving to the bathroom to take care of his own pressing need in the shower.

Yes. Lexaeus is… quite safe. We are quite safe here. A nap won't hurt.

Vexen had stalked off with the damned keys.

That was the entirety of his reasons for following the man, Marluxia told himself as he walked down from the hotel by the station towards the main plaza.

Vexen could be horribly difficult at the very best of times, and suddenly finding themselves about to share a room would no doubt give rise to a copious amount of petty complaints on the other's part. Complications that could maybe, hopefully be at least partially evaded if at least one of them acted the sensible man and brought any delicate issues up for constructive discussion rather than just stalking off and sulking.

Without warning a trio of teenagers stepped into his path, led by a self-important young man in a white coat and a horribly ridiculous cap with what was probably supposed to be the word 'ME' stitched all over it in a horribly bad attempt at artistic calligraphy.

"Hey. You. You're new around here, aren't you? You and those others in black," the teen accused.

He lowered his eyebrows in annoyance, watching the last glimpse of black-and-blond disappear around a corner by the square further down the street.
"Get out of my way, boy," he murmured and effortlessly moved the obnoxious obstacle out of his path with a graceful sweep of his arm.

The youth spluttered and flailed to regain his balance as he walked past.
"Hey! Hey! I'm warning you, outsider! This is our town and we don't want any trouble around here!"

"Excellent," he mumbled vaguely. "Glad to hear it. Keep it up."

He sighed and looked around the plaza, having temporarily lost his tall quarry from his sight. Damn the man.

Trust Vexen to whine about others' crude ways and then making himself scarce when he was for once wanted for a serious discussion.
Difficult, always so difficult, one could believe the man made some sport out of it.

He shook his head slightly with a minute sarcastic smile and resumed his walking, muffled curses still going on ignored somewhere behind him.

Vexen. Arrogant, high-strung, demanding impossible Vexen.
Another grand scheme gone horribly wrong.

It had been a simple one; break the man, discredit him, finish him off in disgrace. State the perfect example with a most deserving higher-ranked Elder, and rule Oblivion unchallenged from that point on.
But of course nothing was ever simple when it came to Vexen…

It took him quite some time to pick up the trail again; if not for a rather gossipy shrubbery beyond a hole in the grand city-wall-turned-railroad-bridge he could have easily spent another hour futilely searching for the holder of those room keys.
Then again, the presence of a secluded forest was a good sign. He had had a few quite pleasant encounters with Vexen in forests lately.

The thought made him smirk, then frown slightly.

It was aggravating, honestly. If made to choose, innocent little Naminé or cruelly sensual Larxene were much more to his tastes; petite, feminine and beautiful.
Vexen had been a joke, a means to an end. Admittedly surprisingly pleasurable. An interesting pastime. A habit hard to break.
An obsession.

So beautifully ironic; a master assassin caught by his own snare.
Why, aren't you just a laugh, Marluxia…

He made a sardonic grimace and walked on, tracks so fresh on the soft moss he had no trouble following.

The trees were thinning up ahead, and he finally spotted the tall dark shape he had been searching for, and those walls, and that gate, and that mansion and oh, hell.
Much too late the pieces clicked into place and he stopped short, concealed among the sylvan shadows.

Vexen just stood there, his back towards the woods, silent and still as though transfixed. When he finally moved it was with slow, stiff motions, like a sleepwalker painstakingly tracing out the pattern of a lucid dream. Or nightmare..?
After a few final staggering steps the man shuddered violently and sank into a crumpled heap by the wall, hugging himself tightly, shaking.

Unexpected, his stunned mind coolly supplied.

Vexen always had been so stubbornly proud, refusing to utterly break down no matter what creative torment was bestowed upon him. And here, now, finally…

It should have been me accomplishing that! sulkily mixed with a more rational This little reminiscence may well come to have negative consequences for the future of the group, tinged by an exceptionally unexpected Damn it all, you were supposed to have died then and there, Vexen! I shouldn't have had to look you in the eyes afterwards, forced to justify my actions to you.

A Hawk must make sacrifices, that superstitious old hag had told him in the forest. But what good were sacrifices if rejected by some higher powers, the dead returned to confront you about flawed choices already long since left behind?

Vexen was still crouching by the wall. Truly a fool, wasting energy on such a strong reaction; but then, the old man always had been lamentably lacking in self-control.
Succumbing to ostentatious bouts of uncontrolled emotion was a trait of the weak anyway; perfect inner balance and equilibrium the only state befitting a true lord and warrior.

Yet, even so, as he watched the pitiful crumbling form of a once worthy adversary, there was an inexplicable constriction in his chest, the faintest echo of emotions he had never bothered with much even before the loss of heart.
Not guilt, never that - but maybe, perhaps, the very smallest sting of regret.

Difficult, things were always so hopelessly difficult with Vexen.

The seemingly eternal sunset made measuring the passing of minutes or even hours impossible, but Marluxia remained standing hidden among the trees for a long, long time, keeping silent, unseen watch over his once-enemy.

He had been given quite a lot to think about.

This town was… dull. Despite an hour or two having passed since they arrived, the warm twilight was still the exact hue and brightness it had been then, the sun seemingly stuck in its descent for one everlasting, beautiful evening.

Hugely impractical, if that was the case. What good was a world without night and day? Some cozy gloom for dark deeds? The sunshine was soothing, though, almost making one forget the Darkness lurking nearby.

Larxene strolled around the town, poking her nose into alleyways and tiny shops, smiling charmingly at the locals whenever one got close. Lookie, little people, nothing dangerous here, see? She certainly was not to give anyone a reason to kick her off this world before she could get a proper shower. Hah, as if one couldn't always rely on her traveling companions for that!

Her wanderings brought her nothing more interesting than a small potion shop, though. No titillating little stores with black painted windows in back alleys, no interesting little bottles with deadly content at the apothecary.
Boring.
Everyone seemed happy and friendly, without a care in the world. It made you shake your head, it really did. This world could use a real shake-up, and it was only a pity she'd have to refrain from giving it one.

Aimlessly, she drifted back to the Station Plaza. The others had wandered off, Darkness knew where. Lex and his little runt were probably screwing each others' brains out at this very moment, and that was not at all fair given that she wasn't getting any. Axel might be good for scratching that itch, if she could just locate him.

He'd have to come to her, sooner or later. She had the room key, and thinking of that, a long shower and some of the underwear in her bag freshly washed in the bathroom sink… oh, yes. Perfect. She leaned on the low wall on the precipice overlooking the town, idly mulling over the view. Maybe she'd be lucky and catch a splash of pink or red somewhere down there.

"Hey! You!"

The youthful, angry voice shouted almost in her ear. Turning, she found herself face to face with three of the natives, led by a blond with a too-short shirt and some attitude. Larxene lifted an eyebrow.

This only seemed to agitate the little punk further, as he puffed up his chest and with attempted authority said "We are the Twilight Town Disciplinary Committee!"

"And…?" Larxene didn't bother to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"Don't you diss Seifer, ya know!" the large, burly boy cut in. Larxene could feel a smirk growing on her face.

"And we think you are looking suspicious. You're with those other freaks in black, aren't you? State your business here!" the blond answered, looking annoyed.

"Weird," it came from the third one, the little girl with the Zexion-wannabe hair.

Larxene tittered, smiling her most girly little smile, and pinched his cheek. "What a little cutie! Don't you worry, dear, we're just passing though. Nothing to worry about."

The kid looked like he'd die of combined mortification and rage. Face blushing red, he jumped back and brandished what looked like a giant blue dildo on a stick in Larxene's face. "Stop doing that, you, you…stranger!"

Larxene did what was probably the most unforgivable thing of all.
She laughed.

Roxas was not in Twilight Town.

That much had become painfully apparent after a few rounds of thoroughly searching every nook and cranny of the place. Well, dammit.

Axel sat dangling his feet over the edge of their usual spot high up in the tower of the station, chin in his hand, looking out over the sleepy town below.

It had been a gamble from the start, but it could have happened, y'know, things for once going his way? But no, couldn't have that, of course not.
Fuck.

Maybe the kid had stopped coming here altogether after Axel's good influences had been withdrawn from him. Roxas must think him dead by now, anyway.
Good ole Boss and his rabid lapdog were probably smack in the middle of turning Key of Destiny into the loyal, unquestioning puppet they had always seemed to think he should be.

Axel would readily admit to himself he needed Roxas, but what the boy didn't always seem to realize was that he needed Axel, too, if only to have someone trustworthy there to watch his back.
And maybe do more than that, if the mood was right…

He absently traced an 'R' into the balcony beside him with his finger, the stone as yielding and soft as butter confronted with the blaze of his inner temperature.

He never thought he'd say it, but these past weeks spent running around with the other idiots had actually made him think about a number of things in a new way. He was less certain than ever now that the Organization was the best option, for him and Roxas both.

Careless and free - if not for the company he'd kept, the past month and a half had almost been fun.
If only Roxas had been here, he could have been neatly snatched away to join their team…

But Roxas wasn't here.

And that meant the time of indecision was over.

Maybe the Organization wasn't the best thing for them in the long run, but leaving Roxas behind any longer was just out of the question. They could always sidle off together at some later date, but for now…

Sorry, guys. It's been great and all, nothing personal…

He determinedly scribbled a lopsided 'A' next to the 'R' and circled them, because drawing a heart would both be girlish and downright ridiculous in their specific case.

There had never been any question about where his true loyalties lay. His current companions all called him a traitor, but really, that was all just a matter of perspective. Concepts like loyalty and treason always were.

Once they were all asleep, he figured he'd slit their throats before burning the hotel to the ground. It'd be the nice thing to do, considering how at least some of them felt about his element.
Oh, and it'd also make absolutely certain there'd be no miraculous escapes this time.

He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees.
Shame, really, but what could you do?

Well, sir, that's a long story, sir, but now it's all taken care of, no need to worry, sir. Roxas around?

The muffled sounds of some kind of commotion down below shook him from his thoughts and he peered over the edge to see Larxene cheerfully harassing the local fauna.

He stood with a stretch and shrugged.

Yeah, probably about time to get moving anyway. He was getting hungry, and from up here he could spot several of the others aimlessly drifting back towards the hotel, probably for the same reason.

After one final thoughtful look at the view he turned and left.

Left behind on the balcony lay the pitiful remains of two ice-creams slowly melting into sticky, turquoise puddles under the ever-setting sun.

"Can't we talk about this, lady?!"
The boy's voice had taken on a new note of desperation.

Larxene playfully shook his leg slightly, watching in amusement as Seifer yelped and tried to grab onto the wall next to him. Just to be sure, she extended her arm so that he dangled a bit further out over the precipice.
"Oh, I think you have done quite enough of talking, dear."

"Let Seifer go, ya know!" the other boy yelled, making her victim turn yet another shade of pale.
"No! Don't let go! Don't let go!"

The ugly cap slid loose and began the long, long fall down towards the rooftops below. Larxene grinned. "Well, maybe if you asked me really nicely…"

A new voice from behind interrupted her fun. "Larxene, stop playing with the locals."

She turned her head and pouted. "But Lexie, he was really, really rude to me."

"Probably well deserved," Zexion sniffed, then rubbed his nose.

Larxene gave him an artfully wounded look. "Actually, for once I am totally innocent, I promise."

The others seemed to be gathering around. Vexen had just walked up from the town below, and now gave her a doubtful glance. "Larxene, I highly doubt you have ever been innocent of anything in your entire life."

The two lackeys had been trying to discreetly slide up and assist their dangling leader during the little argument, and Larxene now gave them a sweet smile. "Want to join in on the fun, darlings?"

"Larxene." There was a clear warning in Lexaeus' voice.

She uttered a rude sound. "You'd better pay for something really nice today." Swinging her arm around, she dumped the blond in an undignified heap on the flagstones. The other two immediately rushed to his side, fussing and moaning.

"Are you all right, man?!"

"Ow…."

"Retreat."

The trio staggered to their feet, lackey one and two dragging their unsteady leader towards safety. Larxene watched them go with regret in her gaze. That was probably all the fun she'd have today.

Axel exited the station doors and raised an eyebrow as the brats stumbled by. "Been amusing yourself, Larx?"

"Until I was interrupted," she giggled, and placed a hand on his arm. The smile he gave her in return was a bit distracted, so she gave him a measured zap. Just to get his attention.

Once the fading cursing had died down, Marluxia had also returned, standing silently at the edge of the group. Both he and Vexen had the same distant look in their eyes, Axel too, come to think of it. Was there something in the water here?
Larxene stretched her back and grabbed her bag.

"Don't know about you guys, but I could kill some dinner right now."

"Luckily, you won't have to," Vexen said dryly. "We need to replenish our supplies, as well."

"Let's head downhill," Axel suggested. "That's where all the shops are."

They had stopped by a small store with a garish neon sign and gorged themselves on hot, delicious food that for once someone else had prepared, sitting on the broad stone banister following the road. The owner of the place also carried potions, and everyone slipped a few of the precious little bottles inside pockets or below robes.

The food had cheered them all up, and they congregated on the stall across the street with renewed vigour. It took some determined haggling between them before Lexaeus was allowed to purchase a box of tissues for his suffering companion.

"If you gets toys, we should to," Axel noted, supported by Larxene.

"One could argue that the tissues are medical equipment, not toys," Zexion replied, then sneezed.

"I want one of those." Larxene said with a just-because tone of voice, pointing at a display of flashlights on a shelf.

The Elders looked at each other, then nodded.

"Acceptable suggestion. And it should be handy to avoid more great furry animals at night. I shall bespeak a pen and a notebook," Vexen said.

Axel pursed his lips. "You know, when you put it like that, I could use one too… a flashlight, that is, not some pieces of boring paper."

Everyone else taken care of, the collective gaze turned to Marluxia.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Marluxia replied, evidently returning from deep within his own thoughts. "What are we discussing?"

Axel snickered. "Lost in dreams, Marluxia?"

"I know the perfect thing," Lexaeus said, stepping up to the counter and quickly returning with a bottle and a small brush.

Marluxia shook the bottle with a confused look. "What the hell is this?"

"Dish soap," was the reply, to general sniggers. Marluxia snarled.

"Oh, don't." Larxene draped one arm around his shoulders. "You'll be happy for it soon enough."

The glare Marluxia gave the Silent Hero promised death, but he slid the bottle into his pocket without further comment.

Lexaeus paid for the purchases, and the shop owner's faintly confused smile followed them as they continued down the slope, towards the great Tram Common where the tram rumbled around in an eternal, seemingly useless circle. Vexen was savouring the last of the coffee from a thin paper cup, Zexion was blowing his nose in relief and Marluxia was silently bringing up the rear.

There was a small shop, right in the middle of the common; a small round house, with signs displaying colourful sweets and cookies. A cat sat grooming itself on the roof, and the small lady behind the counter cheerfully served a customer.

A tall customer, wrapped in a red cloak and with red bandages covering what could seen of his head. He seemed to be nodding as the lady piled several containers with a brilliant blue content before him.

The Elders stopped dead in their tracks. Marluxia walked straight into Lexaeus broad back, and Larxene continued a few steps before realizing she was now on her own.

"Wha..?"

The coffee cup fell from Vexen's stiff fingers and splattered its contents over the ground. Lexaeus looked like a corpse, all colour drained from his face, eyes bulging. A gagged little whimper was all that escaped his lips.

"It's him. Oh mercy, it's him." Zexion's terrified gaze was glued on the tall man, who was gathering up his ice cream, oblivious to his audience. With force of will seemingly driven by pure panic, he twirled around and grabbed Lexaeus' hand, trying to tug the large man into moving. "Come on, come on, we need to get away!"

"What are you talking about?" Axel seemed shaken as well, and his edgy gaze jumped back and forth between the man at the counter and the terrified Elders.

The man had begun to turn, his arms full of packages. Vexen and Lexaeus were still frozen in place, looking like deer in headlights, prey frozen under the eyes of approaching doom. Zexion's voice had taken on a shrill tone.
"Move, damn you!"

The tram came rumbling along the track, briefly blocking out the stand, the little lady and the man in red from their sight.

The respite seemed to kick Marluxia into action. Grabbing Vexen's shoulder in one hand, he ripped open a portal and all but threw the paralysed man though it, growling at the others.
"Get moving! We're out of here."

Axel and Larxene scrambled to obey, sliding into the Darkness as Marluxia took hold of Lexaeus' other hand and helped the frantic Zexion to haul the Silent Hero along, into the unknown beyond.

The tram rolled away, and all that remained was an empty paper mug gently rolling to a stop, and the faintest wisp of Darkness quickly dissolving in the hazy afternoon air.