Author's Note: Trigger warning for discussion of miscarriage and infertility.

It was as if every time she wanted to be alone, that damn door knocked. Larxene had been standing in front of the mirror, running a soft brush through her hair when the irritating sound startled her. She ignored it at first, hoping whoever it was might just take the hint and go away. She returned her attention to her hair, gently dragging the comb between the blonde locks. She was convinced she'd managed to rid herself of the intruder when the knock returned, more insistent than before. She sighed, laying the brush on the vanity and relenting.

"Fine, come in."

She should have guessed who it was on the other side of the threshold. Only Marluxia would knock twice. She wrinkled her nose, visibly annoyed by his presence. "What do you want?"

Marluxia stepped cautiously into the room. "I came to see you."

"Well, I'm not in the mood," she snapped, pointing to one of her temples. "Got a headache."

"I didn't come for that."

"Then why are you bothering me?"

"I came to talk."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm so flattered," she snorted, genuinely curious about where he planned to go with this. "More than just a booty call for once."

"So you'll talk to me?"

"Whatever," she reluctantly agreed, remaining focused on the mirror. "Not like I have anything better to do."

Marluxia slowly approached the bed and sank into the mattress, hesitating. The two of them had spent most of the day searching for Vexen together, and Larxene had said almost nothing during the entire mission. In fact, she had been unusually distant for the past few days, ever since their first shift in the search. He had come to see what was bothering her, but suddenly lacked the nerve to ask. It baffled him. Marluxia had known Larxene for so long, there should have been no reason he'd be feeling nervous to talk to her now. Nervous? Impossible. Nobodies cannot feel nervous.

"Saïx is sending me on a mission with Roxas some time in the next week."

Larxene gagged mockingly. "Yuck. Alone?"

"No. There will be five of us with him."

The briefing from Saïx was particularly unusual. Where normally the man delivered his instructions in a dull, bored monotone, now his voice seemed to shake with obvious apprehension and dread. His tension was palpable. He fidgeted and his attention wavered, his eyes darting around as they spoke. He relayed the orders almost reluctantly, no longer emitting the usual disinterest that had become so characteristic for Xemnas' right hand. Marluxia wondered to himself if the man was ill.

"Well, don't catch his disease," Larxene sneered, strolling into the bathroom and rubbing a damp cloth on her face.

"It's not contagious, Larxene. There's nothing to worry about."

"Whatever," she scoffed. "So what's the mission, then? I thought he was confined to bed. I was finally feeling like I could go into the Grey Area again, knowing I wouldn't have to look at him."

"We are going to Agrabah to take out that giant Heartless."

She paused slightly and cocked her head as if to question him, but instead only shrugged. "Big job for small fry. If we're lucky, it'll just eat him."

Marluxia turned to her, not with surprise, but with a very different reaction. Was it pity? Sympathy? He couldn't place it. It was so unfamiliar now. "Why the hostility, Larxene?"

She whirled around, seething. "Are you feeling sorry for him? Don't get all sentimental now."

"I'm not," Marluxia quickly softened. "I'm only curious."

"Curious," Larxene spat, turning her back on him. "Because that's always gone over so well for you."

The words stung, but Marluxia couldn't claim that he didn't deserve them. His curiosity had brought him to the Organization. He had believed back then that they were motivated by good intentions — a collection of men who had lost their hearts and desperately wanted them back. He could relate. He understood. They all just wanted back what was rightfully theirs. Yet, here they were, years later and with no retribution in sight.

If Marluxia had any good sense at all, he'd have left the room at that moment, but for some reason he felt compelled to press Larxene further. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted her to open up to him and share what was on her mind. He knew what it was, but he wanted — needed her to say it. He thought for a moment, planning a conversational route that would lead him to the answer.

"What do you make of all this?"

Larxene had returned to fiddling with her hair, combing through it with her fingers and tying it up. "What? You mean him? I think it's gross."

"It's fascinating…" His eyes wandered listlessly to the ceiling. "I didn't think he'd survive this long."

"Ugh. I don't care. I can't stand looking at him."

"You don't think it's the least bit interesting?"

"No, I don't. I think it's disgusting," the contempt in her voice elevated with every word. "And quite frankly, I'm the only one qualified to really have an opinion on it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm a girl, Marluxia!"

He backed off, hoping he hadn't taken it too far. Marluxia knew he was treading into dangerous territory, but he refused to shy away from it for one more second. "I suppose you have a point. You have a unique insight that none of us males could ever boast."

"You're damn right I do, and this is unnatural. It's sick and it's wrong."

It was at these words that Marluxia rose to his feet, unbeknownst to Larxene. The memories were persistent, demanding a place at the forefront of their minds. They were lying in the sand. Where had their weapons gone? How long had they been unconscious? What was the cause of this pain in their chests? Marluxia opened his eyes to see a tall, hooded figure standing over them. He told them they'd lost their hearts. He promised to help get them back. How could they refuse?

"It's not an experiment and it's not something you just play around with," she continued with exasperation. "It's serious. The consequences are permanent, no matter what the outcome might be."

Before he realized what he was doing, Marluxia was slowly approaching her. His steps were soft, cautious, wary. "You've put a lot of thought into this…"

"Of course I have! It's something I actually have to think about!"

He was inching ever closer to her. She noticed, but didn't protest. "Do you?"

She bent down to splash water on her face. Her voice was beginning to shake as she teetered on the brink of collapse. She kept her head down, forcibly averting her gaze from the reflection of the man closing in on her. "Knock it off, Marluxia. You wouldn't understand."

"I would if you'd explain it to me."

"Just stop it."

He finally reached her, laying his hands on her shoulders. Her head shot up with a gasp and her spine straightened. She looked into the eyes of his mirror image, her mouth hanging open, speechless. She couldn't read his expression. She recognized it, but couldn't name it. Why was he looking at her like that?

"Elrena," he whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

Her petite form began to tremble. "Damn it, don't do this now."

"Then when? Years and years have passed and it still troubles you."

"Nothing troubles me!" She threw up her hands and forced an unstable smile. "I have no heart! I'm living the good life."

"No you're not. I know you better than that."

She slammed her palms on the counter, watching the water swirling down the drain. It was a fitting image — helplessly spinning in a cyclone, gradually sinking toward the abyss. It toyed with her. Any second she would drown. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry for help, but words had failed her. Her stomach was clenching just like it did before. The pain was fresh in her memory. Marluxia's voice was as soft as it was back then. Sweet enough to break her. Strong enough to catch the shards before they fell.

"It's not hopeless, Elrena. You don't have to give up."

Her fingers curled into her palms, tightly closing into fists. "I'm warning you, Lauriam."

"We can try it again. And again, and again. A thousand more times if we have to."

She jolted out of his grasp, shooting him a bitter scowl. "You heard them! 'Impossible.' It's not gonna happen, Marluxia!" She darted past him out of the bathroom and back to the vanity. Her reflection brought her no more comfort here than it did in there. She hated looking at herself. The sight of her pitifully thin frame filled her with anger. Regret. Emptiness. "Besides, it's not even fun anymore."

He followed her. Every move he made was deliberate and calculated. She had erected a wall specifically to keep him at a distance, and knocking it down was a delicate process. "There's no guarantee it won't work."

"Just leave me alone."

"Roxas reminds you, doesn't he? That's why you won't come to the Grey Area. That's why you avoid him."
"Stop bringing him up!"

"It's why you can't look at him, it's why you say you hate—"

"That's enough, Lauriam!"

"Elrena… if it still hurts, that's okay. But don't shut me out. Let me help."

"I don't want your help."

He reached for her and she flinched, recoiling from his touch. There was a sharp twinge deep inside him, but the pain was all for her. "You don't have to be alone."

"Where is all this coming from, anyway? Since when do you show me all this care and affection? It's not like you."

"It's not like Marluxia. Have you forgotten Lauriam?"

"No, I haven't. Lauriam forgot me."

"Elrena…"

"You gonna tell me he's in there now? That he's been waiting for me all this time? That it was all just because Marluxia has no heart?" She laughed. She laughed at his sudden melancholic demeanor. She laughed at the absurdity of it all. She laughed to hide how much it hurt.

Marluxia was unfazed by her deflection. "No. That would just be making excuses. I won't do that to you again."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to talk to me. I want to fix this. Lauriam wants to fix this."

The memories finally swallowed her up. She lost herself in them. She was in that wretched desert again, taking out Heartless just like any other day. Marluxia was needed elsewhere on a mission deemed too dangerous for a fragile little girl like her, so she'd been sent to Agrabah to assist that mute, blue-haired freak with the X on his face. That was all they ever did — stick her with some strong man instead of ever sending her anywhere alone, as if she couldn't take care of herself. These assholes think I'm weak. I'll show them.

It was hot. She didn't feel well. She was in a rotten mood. Saïx was so quiet and blank that it irritated her to no end. She taunted him, she ridiculed him, and she argued with him, but he didn't respond. He only completed his work in silence, paying her no mind. What a weirdo.

She had just laid the final blow on a troublesome Heartless that kept healing itself if one wasn't quick enough to defeat it. She didn't see where her mission partner had gone, but could hear him cutting through some other collection of creatures off in the distance with his giant claymore. The sound of his roaring didn't match his delicate, poised disposition, and his weapon appeared to be so heavy that he had to carry it with an awkward underhand grip, like a dagger. That's a bit much. Maybe he's compensating for something.

When the last monster had vanished in a smoky wisp, it struck her without warning. The pain was sharp. It barreled through her abdomen with unrelenting force, both familiar and foreign to her. Her vision darkened and she collapsed to her knees. The clenching agony didn't stop. She could barely breathe.

She heard Saïx's footsteps rushing her way, and soon he was kneeling before her. "Larxene? What's wrong?"

She didn't have a chance to answer. She kept her head down, staring at his knees and catching her breath. That was when she saw it — the blood spreading on the sand beneath her. It seemed to pour from her by the liter, and Saïx scooted back with a gasp. "You're bleeding. Where are you hit?"

Every time she tried to speak, it crushed her again. A whimper, a grunt, a moan — these were all she could utter. What the hell is he waiting for?! She lifted her eyes to her companion, the poor kid who sat frozen, staring at her in disbelief with clear and unmistakable terror on his face.

"Take me back…! Now!"

He was too small at the time to lift her. He was dragging her to the portal when she finally passed out. When she came to, she was lying on a table in Vexen's research lab. The first face she saw was Marluxia's. He smiled at her, then his face grew blurry. Everything went dark again.

"Elrena, can you hear me?"

"Wh-where are you?"

"I'm here," she felt his hand squeeze hers. "It's okay. I've got you."

She was freezing. She shivered under the thin sheet that was laid over her. Her clothes had been removed. There was a needle in her arm. "What's happening…?"

"It'll be okay, Elrena. Just hold on."

The pain hadn't ceased. It clobbered her in waves, rising to excruciating peaks before dissipating. It was enough to make her dizzy and motion sick. "Lauriam… it hurts… what's going on?"

"I don't know. Stay with me. You're going to be alright."

"Do you think it's…"

"Don't think about that. Just relax."

"Oh god… what if—"

"Shh," Marluxia interrupted her, desperate to quell her panic. "Don't worry."

Tears sprang to her eyes. Though their presence shocked her, Marluxia didn't seem surprised in the least. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, sweeping them away. She tried to speak, but her throat was so tight she could only croak. "Lauriam, if I've lost—"

"Stop, Elrena, you're going to make it worse. Just take a deep breath."

"There was blood! It's not supposed to—"
His fingers laced through her hair. Not once did his voice rise above a whisper. "Breathe, Elrena. You're going to be fine."

"I'm not worried about me!"

Someone had entered the room and cleared his throat to announce his presence. His shape was fuzzy and unfocused, but his long, platinum-blond hair was easily recognizable.

"Vexen," Marluxia stood to address the scientist. "Have you figured out what's wrong with her?"

There was a pause. "I have."

Another pause. Vexen was hesitating. Larxene couldn't stand the delay. "Well? Spit it out! Tell me!"

Vexen only dropped his head and was silent. There was a deafening thud in Larxene's chest. She shuddered at the chill of all the color draining from her face. Her breaths halted altogether, catching in her throat and choking her. "No…"

"Larxene…" Vexen sighed. "I'm so sorry. We weren't able to—"

"No! No, it's not true!" It couldn't be true. It had to be a mistake. There was something he'd missed. Something he misread. Miscalculated. She was sure of it.

Vexen only shook his head with a solemn expression. "I'm sorry, Larxene. There was nothing we could do…"

She had long since tuned him out. Vexen was explaining what went wrong. Larxene wasn't listening. She stared at the ceiling. Numb. Blank. In this moment she wanted so badly to cry, but now she found that she couldn't. She could only lay there, wondering how much this was supposed to hurt. How agonizing would this be if she'd had a heart? She searched inward for a memory of pain that might have fit this situation, but found none. This experience was new and unique. The emptiness she felt was genuine. Even now, so many years later, Larxene could vividly remember the sweltering heat of the desert and the frigid cold of the lab. She could still feel the painful clenching in her stomach and the suffocating lump in her throat. She could still hear Marluxia's voice calling out to her.

"Elrena… Come back to me, Elrena… Come back to the present…"

He was right in front of her, intimately close, right where he was supposed to be. He had her face in his hands and his eyes locked on hers. He was motionless and steady, an anchor to keep her from floating adrift. She was wrong. Lauriam had kept his promise. He would always be there to yank her out of her flashbacks and spirals. Even after all this time, he hadn't failed her yet. He was here in his place, gentle as he always was. He showed her only tenderness and patience while he waited for her to return to him. He hadn't forgotten her.

She clutched her abdomen. The hollowness had followed her everywhere she went. The pain shot through her when she least expected it. She had lost so much more than her heart. She had lost all hope. She had lost her spirit. She couldn't fathom how fate could be so cruel as to not only take away her child, but to also rob her of her ability to grieve for it.

What am I doing? Crying?!

She hadn't realized it until she had her face buried in Marluxia's coat. His arms enfolded her, protective in their strength, comforting in their warmth. She was safe there, and she collapsed with the security of knowing he'd catch her before she hit the ground.

"It's not fair… It's not fair…"

"I know."

All these years, and this was the moment when it finally came crashing down on her. The passage of time did not dull the sting even a little. It was just as real now as it had felt back then. But it was different. There was a new clarity, an intensity that hadn't been present before. At last, she could feel the agony of her loss. She could mourn that loss now, for the first time since that day. She could remember that crushing emptiness. She drew from those images, creating not a performance or a display, but a true, visceral representation of the pain she'd felt then. She lived in that memory, experiencing the event all over again, but now she could fully immerse herself in real, excruciating despair. For once, she could hurt, and to her surprise, the catharsis of finally shedding these tears felt good.

"Every time I look at Roxas, I remember…" She murmured into the damp leather. "I wonder what could have been… It's not fair, Lauriam…"
Marluxia had waited many years for this moment, wondering if it would ever happen at all. There was something very natural and familiar about the steps they took now, the parts they played in this scene unfolding between them. Every action was pure and authentic. It was so easy to take her into his arms and hold her like this. It was almost instinctive, the desire to be close to her now. Listening to her weeping, feeling her tiny body shaking against him, sensing the urgency in her grasp as she clung to his coat — now, the experience carried warmth. Humanity. Now, it felt right.

The air in the room was heavy and smothering. Her anguish was so palpable that Marluxia could feel it alongside her. They endured it together, as if they'd never forgotten how. The pain was fierce. Savage. Real. The how and the why were completely irrelevant. All that mattered was the two of them. Their connection, their love, their loss. Tonight, they weathered it all as one.

"You're right," he whispered, his fingers settling at her nape. "It's not fair. It shouldn't even be possible for him, Nobody or not."

"I can't stand the sight of him," she growled. "That hideous little brat, showing me that image every single day. He doesn't even have what it takes!"

The emotions — or whatever they were — continued their assault. Sadness and regret transformed into anger and bitterness. The sorrow had been cold and biting, but her rage now was scalding hot.

Marluxia winced at the sudden shift in her tone. "He didn't ask for this, Elrena."

"So it can happen for him by accident, but…" her sentence trailed off. She couldn't bring herself to say the words. They lingered on her tongue, ready to be delivered but she swallowed them back, as if refusing to speak them aloud prevented them from being true. "God, it's not fair…!"

"I know. I know it's not fair. And I'm so sorry."

The anger was dissipating, making way for the nauseating grip of remorse. It poured over her, drenching her in those old intrusive thoughts she'd hoped to have been rid of. All of those nagging questions, the troublesome worries, the menacing taunts from which she could not escape. They rained their punishment on her, lashing at her skin like whips. The pangs of guilt were sharp, burrowing into her chest at a torturously slow pace. The shame crawled over her flesh, nipping at her like hungry rats.

"If I had known… I never would've…"

Her body began to tremble, her knees threatening to buckle and drop her to the floor. Marluxia quickly intervened, cupping her chin and meeting her eyes with his own. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't I? I chose this."

"You didn't choose to lose your heart."

"I joined you… you told me to stay back but I ran in after you," she sobbed, her composure faltering. "I wanted to be with you. I would have followed you wherever you went."

"Then the one to carry the blame is me."

There was no comfort in those words. There was no sense assigning blame to anyone for what had happened. Doing so didn't make it hurt any less. She dropped her head, blinking as the tears burned in her eyes again. "It doesn't matter anymore… It's over… It's gone now and I won't ever get it back…"

The sound of defeat in her voice weighed heavily on him. He longed to lift her spirits, to encourage her to keep going, but he knew not what to say to put the fight back in her. "That's not true. There's still a chance. There always was."

He questioned his decision to make such promises. Larxene had been right — impossible, just as Vexen said. It was impossible to create life if one lacked the heart with which to conceive and nurture it. He regretted that, in his zeal to console her, he may have been instilling a false sense of hope in her. "Elrena, if I could take it back…"

"Well you can't, so don't bother telling me what you'd do. I'd rather live with the mystery."

He paused. The expression on her face said it all. She'd had enough. She was spent. Drained. Too tired to fight any longer. With an understanding nod, he let the matter drop at last. "Alright. I won't."

He took her hand, guiding her to the bed where they would sit together. She leaned into his embrace, sighing as the knots of tension inside her unraveled. Pressing against his chest, she listened through its walls and relaxed into the steady rhythm of his breath. She was soothed by the gentle hum of his voice. His hand softly caressed her, sliding up and down her back in an almost hypnotic motion. Again, she basked in the sensations of security and trust for him. The others didn't understand. To them, she was course and mean and spiteful, and she intended to keep it that way. But after everything and through it all, Marluxia was always there, a stalwart source of comfort when she needed it most. It was then that she finally felt brave enough to let down her guard, and she settled herself in his arms, vulnerable, but safe.

"Promise me something…"

A stray lock of hair had fallen into her face and he swept it away with a warm smile. "Anything."

She took a slow breath. "Keep him safe… Whatever is in there deserves a chance… The chance ours didn't get… Please, protect him…"

He reached for her hand, taking it delicately into his own. He regretted that he hadn't removed his gloves, longing to touch her again. He instead brought it to his mouth and tenderly pressed his lips onto her knuckles. He lingered there, reluctant to pull away. Her skin was just as soft and warm as it had always been. When he finally parted with her, he almost couldn't stop himself from kissing her again and again. This wasn't the time for that. He restrained himself, instead closing in until their foreheads met and he could feel her breath on his face.

"You have my word, Elrena."

She crawled beneath the sheets, managing a weak smile as he bent to kiss her forehead. In her exhaustion, her eyes closed immediately and she could feel herself drifting off. All was still for a few moments, granting her some semblance of peace for now. Soon, the mattress creaked as a weight was lifted from it. He was leaving. Something like panic rose in her chest and she reached for him, tightly clasping his fingers. "Don't go…"

He said nothing, only nodding with a look on his face that she hadn't seen in a long time. His eyes gleamed with affection for her. There was a glow in his cheeks, a smile on his lips — his features hadn't lost an ounce of their charm. All of his love and devotion had transcended the loss of his heart, and for the first time, she believed it. She shared it.

She never let go of his hand, even as he was undressing, preparing to join her. When he had dropped the last garment to the floor, he turned out the light and climbed into bed beside her. All evening, through the entirety of their conversation, her body shook with emotion. It trembled with her fury and heaved with her sobs. Her muscles were tense, her entire frame on edge, alert. Now, however, she was still and relaxed as she curled up to him. The atmosphere was calm and light. He could feel her breaths slow as she surrendered to sleep.

Even in the dark, he couldn't help but admire her in all her perfection. She was right when she accused him of forgetting her. He'd forgotten her beauty, her passion. He'd forgotten the Elrena hiding beneath Larxene. But he remembered her now. He remembered what it felt like to have his heart flutter in his chest when he saw her. He remembered the longing ache during their separation. He remembered how he loved her. Fond memories made for pleasant dreams, and he rested comfortably knowing that in the morning, her face would be the first thing he'd see.

Author's Note: This chapter means the world to me. I think it is my favorite piece in all of my stories. I hope that it moves you just as it moves me.