Zexion's first impulse was to be annoyed. He'd been having such a nice dream, only to be rudely interrupted by a tickling sensation on his ear. He tried to swat it away and go back to sleep, but just as he started to sink, the tickle returned. He gradually floated back into consciousness, now aware of the soft lips and warm breath brushing over his cheek, along his neck, down his shoulder… It was so pleasant an awakening that he regretted his initial aggravation. Smiling, he rolled over to greet his persistent alarm clock and was quickly met with an impatient kiss from Demyx.

"Morning, sunshine," Demyx chuckled against his jaw as he tracked more nips down his face.

"You're awake before me?" Zexion asked with an eyebrow raised, ruffling the man's hair. "That's a first."

"Eh, I had to pee," Demyx rose, climbing over him and hovering there, staring down at him with an amorous gleam in his eyes. "But then I came back and you just looked so pretty. Couldn't fall back asleep after that."

Zexion couldn't help but laugh. He'd never been described as 'pretty' before and found the description rather amusing. "I'm not sure I deserve all this flattery."

Demyx flashed another winning smile. "You want something else instead?"

He bent down and continued to plant kisses all over Zexion's torso. Shuddering at each one, Zexion's fingers closed tightly around the sheets beneath him as heat spread over his skin. It wasn't long before he felt a familiar rising tension between his legs, and if the incessant prodding against his hip was any indicator, he was clearly not alone in his plight. His answer would have been a resounding yes, please if he could guarantee there would be time enough for the encounter. Giggling and with much reluctance, he was barely able to pry Demyx off of him long enough to find out.

"What time is it?"

Demyx squinted at the clock on the bedside table. "It's, uh… quarter past eight."

"What?!" Zexion gasped, suddenly feeling much more awake and less relaxed. "I'm supposed to already be in the lab!"

"Hey, come on, Vexen's not there to scold you."

"But—"

Demyx resumed the playful barrage of kisses, blotting his lips over Zexion's skin like an artist carefully laying the first strokes of a paintbrush on fresh canvas, every one of them expertly calculated and executed with the gentlest touch. "Come on, stay just a few minutes."

"I don't have time, Demyx, I'm sorry…"

Zexion's words diminished into soft gasps. Demyx's kisses were passionate, almost desperate now, but his hands were viciously delicate. Gliding down his chest in a tantalizing caress. Dragging so slowly up his thigh that he ached for more. It was the perfect tease, and Zexion felt himself quickly weakening to it.

"D-Demyx…"

"I can be quick."

The tension was maddening. The heat was unbearable. His body quivered with desire and Demyx ate it up. Just when he was about to finally surrender, there was a knock at his door.

"Who the hell would knock at this hour?"

"Shh—!"

There was a mad scramble to ready themselves for whatever company waited just outside the room. It was the fastest they'd ever managed to throw on their uniforms, not even having the chance to settle their arousal before squeezing into the painfully restricting leather pants. After a quick glance in the mirror for each of them, Zexion took a moment to regain his composure and cautiously opened the door. Saïx stood on the other side, holding a clipboard and wearing his usual vacant stare.

"Zexion," he greeted him blankly, his eyes darting over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Demyx awkwardly standing in the background. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything."

Zexion could already feel the burning red tones pouring into his cheeks as they spoke. "Of course not. I, uh… I overslept. My apologies."

Saïx graciously made no mention of Zexion's flustered demeanor and continued with his reason for visiting. "I would not have come if it were not urgent. Might I speak with you," his glare shifted to Demyx. "Alone?"

Demyx stepped forward with his hands in his pockets, keeping his head lowered and looking sheepish. He whispered to Zexion on his way out, barely concealing a subtle smirk. "I'll see you later."

When he was gone, Zexion invited Saïx inside, and the man wasted no time with his message. "You might want to sit down."

A nauseating shiver passed over him as he slowly sank into his desk chair. He swallowed hard, clasping his fingers together so that they wouldn't tremble. "What is it, Saïx?"

"I felt it necessary to inform you that we have not received a report from Vexen in two days."

There was a heavy thud in his chest, so forceful that it knocked the wind out of him. For the moment, he wasn't certain what he should say in response. His mind had been completely wiped of thought, and for the first time, there was nothing pleasurable about it. "Maybe he just… hasn't written anything? Perhaps he hasn't made any significant observations and felt no need to—"

"Vexen was consistently sending reports back to us at the exact same time every day. When there was nothing to report, he noted as much," Saïx paused, almost as if giving Zexion a moment to process the news. It was uncharacteristic for him to display such consideration for a fellow comrade's feelings — false as they may be — but Zexion appreciated it all the same.

Thoughts trickled back into his mind in a slow cascade of questions, worries, and regrets. The last time he saw Vexen was so brief, so fleeting. He assumed the man would come back from his mission perfectly fine as usual, and therefore saw no need for any grandiose farewells. The scientist rushed out the door of the lab and hurried off to his assignment, and Zexion already had his hands full with Axel's injuries and Roxas' examination. Did he even say goodbye to him? His hands started to shake, despite his efforts, and he clenched them into fists, hoping Saïx hadn't noticed.

"If you feel up to it," Saïx continued in a shockingly somber tone. "I have summoned everyone for a briefing, wherein I will present the schedule for our search."

"Yes… I'll come along," Zexion pressed into his temples, his head now sore from the rush of anxiety. "Will I be on that schedule?"

"Only if the situation becomes desperate. I need you here to care for Roxas," Saïx averted his gaze, fixating on the window. His expression changed. It was lightning fast, but Zexion had seen it clear as day. He rose to his feet and approached, ready to confront him, but knowing that he'd been caught, Saïx heaved a sigh and went on with his announcement. "Xemnas has ordered me to send him on a mission some time in the next week or two. To take out the giant Heartless in Agrabah."

Zexion's jaw dropped. "Wait, what? He can't be serious."

Saïx folded his arms, shaking his head piteously. "Cruel as it sounds, Xemnas hopes that a taxing assignment will upset the creature enough that it might vacate the premises once and for all."

"That could kill him," Zexion protested. "We have no idea how it would respond."

"And that is precisely why we must find Vexen immediately."

Speechless, Zexion stepped away, pacing slowly as he collected his thoughts. Of all the places to send the boy, it had to be Agrabah . Not only would the environment be particularly stressful on him — the heat, the dry air, the constantly blowing sand — but the physical demands of combat would be far too strenuous. Defeating such a large enemy would take an enormous toll on his already frail body, and that was if he even survived. To then consider how the entity living inside him might react just threw in too many variables for Zexion's tired mind to process.

Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Saïx made his way toward the door. "I must go on to deliver the briefing. If you need a moment—"

"No," Zexion stopped and took a breath, then another. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Just before opening the door, Saïx turned, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "This information is all classified. I trust you'll keep it to yourself."

Saïx didn't look at him when he made his request. There was a weighty look about him, as if he were staggering beneath the burden of a terrible secret he never wanted to keep. "Axel has been through enough. I'd rather not inject more stress into his life."

So, Zexion thought, he won't be informing Axel of Xemnas' plan for Roxas. How long does he intend to keep that up? Though it was a foolish decision, and one that Zexion certainly did not agree with, he understood the compulsion. He could stretch his morality and find it in himself to justify the omission on medical grounds. It was flimsy, but it cleared his conscience for the time being. "Of course."

The first several minutes of the briefing were a blur for Zexion. He sat quietly in his throne, tuning out the noise of his comrades' exclamations.

"What?!"

"Missing? I thought he was just doing recon!"

"Please, gentlemen," Xemnas waved them into silence before turning to Saïx. "Continue."

Saïx nodded. "The new world is vast and its terrain is diverse. We have been exploring it for months and largely finding nothing of interest. However, our last investigation revealed that it is inhabited."

Paying no heed to the surprised faces surrounding him, he turned a page in his notes. "Vexen was sent to observe and study those inhabitants. His reports abruptly stopped coming in two days ago. The Dusks who haven't been mysteriously killed have lost track of him."

Zexion sank deeper into the back of his seat, battling with whether or not he should keep listening. Dusks were easy to kill. Any animal of reasonable strength could take one out with little fuss. Perhaps there was no real mystery to their deaths at all. He kept still, trying to appear poised and professional while his composure inched toward the edge of total collapse.

"Regarding the natives," Xaldin asked. "What sort of creatures are we dealing with?"

"They are humans, divided into two warring factions," Saïx recited from his clipboard. "One side is a bit more primitive, fighting with traditional weapons. Bows, spears and the like. The other side is slightly more advanced. They use firearms and explosives."

"Sounds like a pretty one-sided war…"

Saïx flipped another page. "I spent all night plotting out a course of action for a search and rescue. All of you will be paired into teams and will operate on a rotating schedule. Two teams will be sent at a time at overlapping intervals for wider coverage. Lexaeus and Xaldin, Team Alpha, and Marluxia and Larxene, Team Beta, will begin the search. Team Delta, Luxord and Demyx, are on deck."

"With Axel incapacitated…" Luxord stroked his chin. "We are rather lacking in manpower."

"As soon as Axel can demonstrate adequate physical fitness for the task, I will add him to the rotation as part of Team Gamma, alongside Xigbar. For now, given the dangerous nature of this mission, I'd rather not send anyone alone."

He dropped the clipboard into his lap and met the eyes of his comrades, speaking with an oddly pleading tone. "Please exercise caution. These humans are violent and territorial. They will attack first and ask questions later. But it is imperative that we retrieve Vexen. It's possible that he's been captured, and he could be hurt."

Zexion tightly clasped his fingers over the arms of his throne, shivering violently enough to draw the occasional suspicious glance. He hoped they might just assume that he was cold and refrain from voicing their curiosity. The last thing he wanted was to hear their fake sentiments of pity and sympathy. He didn't want their phony comforts and empty reassurance. He wasn't a child anymore. He wouldn't go back to that life. He wouldn't live with that unbearable noise again. With a grimace, he covered his ears, wishing that he could be anywhere but in this room.

"There is a very real possibility that the situation will become dire enough to order all hands on deck," Saïx added, taking brief notice of Zexion's decline. "Should that time come, I will add our reserves to the schedule and shifts will be extended. Perhaps doubled. I advise everyone to be well-rested and prepared. You could be called on at a moment's notice."

The room was quiet. Uncomfortably so for having heard such news. Where one might anticipate gasps and whispers, there was only silence. Where one might have seen his comrades shifting in their seats and fidgeting, they were all motionless, as if frozen solid. Demyx peered across the room at Zexion's throne, struggling to read his face from so far away. He hadn't moved a muscle in several minutes and his expression was completely vacant. Vexen's empty seat loomed ominously beside him, awash in the same blinding light as the rest, unhindered by the shadow of its usual occupant. Every eye in the vicinity was drawn to it, as if expecting the apparition of the scientist's very own ghost to materialize inside of it. Demyx kept his gaze averted out of respect for Vexen, figuring it was impolite to stare.

When the silence had gone on for too long, Xemnas sighed softly, making his final remarks with an eerily foreboding tone. "I wish all of you luck in bringing Vexen home. Let us hope that he is alive and well. You are dismissed."

Everyone vanished into their corridors of darkness in nearly perfect unison. When Demyx had landed outside the round room and searched for Zexion, he was nowhere to be found. He was in neither of their rooms, and the last place he could think to look was the lab. He entered cautiously, immediately finding his friend sitting at the desk with his head in his hands. He reached out to touch him as he made his slow approach, unsure what he ought to say to him.

"Hey…" He laid a hand on Zexion's back, bending down to see his face. "You okay?"

Zexion's head shot up at his touch. "What? I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because for all intents and purposes, your father is missing."

There was an unsettling pause. Demyx regretted the comment almost immediately when he saw the resulting expression on Zexion's face. A brief wince, quickly covered with a scorned frown.

"That's awfully presumptuous of you."

Demyx arched an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"I wish you wouldn't pry, Demyx," Zexion snapped, shaking him off and pouring over a mess of papers on the desk and trying to appear busy. He shuffled the documents around, not really looking at them before laying them out in a more disorderly fashion than he'd found them. Just what does he know? Vexen was likely perfectly alive and well. Perhaps he had befriended the natives and was being celebrated as an honored guest. Perhaps those slow-witted Dusks were simply lost somewhere like the imbeciles they were. Besides, Zexion had lost parents before. He survived then, and he'd survive now.

Demyx sighed, kneeling beside him and lowering his voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just thought I could make you feel better."

Zexion kept his eyes down. His body began to tremble. "I've told you, I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Would you knock it off?"

"We're together, Zexion. You're supposed to be able to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk. I don't need to talk. I just want to get back to work."

Seeing the troubled look on Zexion's face was torturous, and all Demyx could think of was making him happy again. Maybe none of it was real. Maybe they were all performances, but the emotions were strong enough to count for him. To watch his friend fight them off so vehemently, to avoid the very real and intense pain he was feeling, was almost an insult to everything they'd worked for. This was supposed to be what having a heart was about. This was supposed to be their ultimate goal.

Still, he couldn't blame the man for his avoidance. He couldn't resent him for it. Demyx supposed he might have done the same thing. He took Zexion's hand, gently brushing the skin with his thumb. It shook vigorously in his grasp, the fingers tightening around his own. This was the loudest silence he'd ever experienced. Zexion wouldn't even look at him now.

Demyx was woefully unprepared for the helplessness of this moment. To think that he could do nothing remotely useful was more than he could bear. Maybe he'd earned his reputation for being a slacker, but this was one area where he refused to be lazy. He wouldn't sit idly by while Zexion was hurting if there was a way that he could fix it. Was that not his job now as his partner?

"Please," he whispered. "Tell me what I can do."

"You can get the hell out of here and let me work."

"Zexion—"

The apprentice finally lost his patience and raised his voice, interrupting Demyx's plea. "Just leave me alone, Demyx!"

Demyx winced, aching somewhere in his chest that he couldn't describe. Not one bruise or scrape, not one of Saix's insults, not one broken string from his sitar could compare. He hung his head in defeat, slowly trudging toward the exit. "Alright. I'll go. You know where to find me."

Zexion didn't look up. He wouldn't watch him leave. He didn't want him to leave. He'd have taken it all back in an instant. He'd have bolted out the door after him and showered him in apologies. But he could only sit there, paralyzed as he let him walk away.

Demyx wasn't like the others. His affection wasn't fake. His voice wasn't noise. He was the one man Zexion could look at with both eyes. It didn't matter that it was too much. The image of Demyx — every flawless feature, the warm glow of his aura, the calm tranquility of his mind, the heat of his passion — flooded his senses unlike any other. He could let himself be overwhelmed in that way and for once it wasn't frightening. For once it didn't hurt. He didn't have to shut down or recharge. He could get close to Demyx and know that he wouldn't disappear. He wouldn't abandon him. He wouldn't die and leave him all alone.

They warned him. Vexen and Axel said that it would hurt. They told him it would hurt more than anything, and they were right. It was likely the worst mistake he'd ever made. If only he'd listened. He was ill-equipped to weather yet another loss. The regret was so powerful that he began to feel physically ill.

We're together…

I feel this connection and it's really powerful …

That bond is so strong that you believe nothing could ever break it…

Demyx was special. He was everything. And like the fool he was, Zexion had just shown him the door.

Day 234 — Well, shit

Apparently Vexen went missing. Everyone is really nervous about it. I can feel it. It's like the air vibrates. It's making my skin crawl just thinking about it. I can tell they're worried something will happen to me and Vexen won't be here to fix it. They stop breathing when they're near me, like someone's hands are pushing on their chests. They stare at me with these weird looks on their faces. Like they're waiting for something to happen. Like they know something that I don't.

I haven't seen Axel in awhile. He got hurt and is stuck in bed just like I am. He said he fell off the clock tower. Zexion only says he was injured on a mission. He won't tell me what really happened. I miss him.

The creature is really starting to get on my nerves. I hate the way it wiggles around all the time. I hate that it's still growing. Just how big is it going to get? So big that I can't walk? Or will it just explode out by that point and finally put me out of my misery? This is all so gross. I look gross. I feel gross. My body is just one great big horror show and I don't want to watch anymore.

It's been really lonely here. No one else visits me but Axel and Zexion, but now Axel can't, and Zexion just does his thing and leaves without a word. This journal is the only thing I have to talk to. Maybe soon I'll go crazy enough to think it's talking back.

When he ran out of things to say, Roxas set his journal aside. He fell back onto his pillow, looking for something to count just to pass the time. He'd already counted the spots on the ceiling, the smudges on the window, the loose threads on his sheet, and the drips from the faucet in his bathroom. He considered eating. He considered sleeping. Nothing appealed to him.

The creature began to thrash. He turned on his side to placate it and it squirmed even more. Turning on his other side produced the same result. There was no position he could take that didn't seem to upset it.

"Cut it out, will you?" Roxas hissed, annoyed with its tantrum. When he'd had enough, he climbed out of bed and paced the floor. Though the movements slowed, they did not stop. He threw on his coat and left the room, strolling briskly down the hall, not sure where he might end up. It was no surprise when he soon found himself nearing the Grey Area. Saïx was standing in his usual place, staring out the window as he always did. Roxas was about to turn around and leave before the man saw him when a dark corridor opened and Larxene came through, followed by Marluxia. She seemed angry, and the moment she spotted Saïx, she unloaded on him. Her coat was torn at the right arm and she was brandishing a minor scrape on her skin. While he stood there with his signature stone face, she shouted incoherently about something that Roxas couldn't make out. He stepped closer to the doorway to listen in.

"You could have warned us, Saïx!"

"I assumed the wildlife would be the least of our concerns."

"That nasty little thing followed us everywhere! It wouldn't leave! Now I'm going to die of rabies!"

"I highly doubt that. It doesn't look that bad."

Another corridor opened and Xaldin entered, laughing when he caught sight of her arm. "What's this? Scratched by a kitty cat?"

Larxene fumed at him. "Who asked you, Xaldin?"

Xaldin shook his head, chuckling as Lexaeus came through the portal behind him. "Lexaeus and I encountered a bear, but here we are unscathed."

Her voice was louder with every seething response. "That bear didn't climb all over you with its dirty little jungle paws!"

"Seems to me the little creature liked you," Xaldin remarked, poorly stifling his laughter. "Perhaps you have an air about you that attracts woodland fauna."

"Gross!" Larxene recoiled in disgust. "What do I look like, some kind of fairy tale princess?!"

With a sly grin, Xaldin muttered under his breath. "No, certainly not."

"And just what the hell is that supposed—?!"

"Stop it, Larxene," Marluxia reached for her just in time to prevent her from throwing a punch. "Just calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Marluxia!"

Saïx stepped in and halted the conversation with a wave of his hand. "Alright, all of you go away. Argue someplace else."

Larxene shrugged out of Marluxia's grasp and stomped toward the door. "I need a shower anyway."

Before Roxas could react, she came through the doorway and nearly bumped into him. She gasped, quickly backing away and clutching her chest. She held her breath, paralyzed and staring at him with wide eyes. In just that brief glimpse, Roxas could feel exactly the same leap in his own chest that had startled her. The sensation was so vivid that he could have been fooled into believing it was his own. The emotion was potent and unmistakable, and given the nature of their encounter, somewhat perplexing.

It was gone in under a second. The atmosphere settled into calm once more and the fluttering dissipated from their chests. Though still obviously shaken, her body visibly relaxed. Her face, however, twisted with a mixture of anger and repulsion.

"Ugh! Watch where you're going, dweeb."

Roxas hastily stepped aside, clearing the way for her. "S-Sorry, Larxene. I didn't mean to—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just— aren't you supposed to be in bed or something? I thought you were super fragile."

"I, uh…"

She cut him off before he could come up with an excuse. "I don't care anyway. Just… keep that thing away from me."

She passed him by, hurrying away at a faster pace than before. The air was changing again. It fizzled like static, and it was getting louder every second.

"Larxene," he called to her, hoping to stop the shift in its tracks. "I'm sorry I scared you."

There it was again. The fluttering in the chest. The shudder at the nape. The sudden rush of cold on the skin. Why was she afraid of him?

She turned, laughing almost maniacally. "Wha— scared me? Oh please!" she scoffed. "I'm just trying to get out of here before I throw up!" She turned on her heel and practically ran in the other direction. "Later, twerp."

Roxas, completely baffled, stared down the empty hall long after she'd disappeared. He'd always thought she was just a hothead, full of anger and not much else. What, then, was all that?

"Roxas."

He jumped at the sudden sound of a voice behind his back. He recognized it immediately and turned to face Saïx with his shoulders slumped. "I know, I know," he sighed. "I should be in bed."

Saïx stood with his arms folded, studying him in silence. Roxas couldn't read his face — it was blank as it always was. But it was a refreshing sight. For once, the man wasn't glaring at him.

"On the contrary," he replied with no change to his flat tone. "A walk would likely do you some good."

Roxas couldn't believe what he'd heard. Saïx was letting him out of his prison at last? Why now? What had changed? Before he had the chance to ask any of his questions, the man had taken off down the hall and vanished around the corner. Left alone again, Roxas meandered into the Grey Area, gazing at his reflection in the tall window. Gross. His mirror image was such an offensive sight that he simultaneously couldn't stand to look at it and couldn't take his eyes off of it. He was about to turn away and go back to bed when something caught his eye. There were other people standing beside him. A tall man. A young girl. A cheerful-looking boy. Many others. Not one of them was familiar. He whipped around to see who was there, only to find an empty room behind him. When he turned back to the window, they were gone, and, just like every day and every night, Roxas was completely alone.