11.
His peace, incredibly tenuous, does not last long.
He receives a call midmorning the next day, from Ienzo. "Even. I need help." His voice sounds shattered.
"Whatever is the matter?"
"It's Demyx-"
Even takes a quick breath. "Is he hurt?" He seems to have recovered from that wound, but that means nothing.
Ienzo's voice is full of glass. "Not physically."
Oh. Of course. Now that they're bonded… he may have very well become fully human. And his memories were only a hair's breadth away. "I think I understand. I'm on my way." He goes to his lab, grabs a few different things which may be of help.
He finds them in the study room which seems to be their favorite haunt. Despite himself, he feels a concern for the boy-is it for what this implies about his own wellbeing?
"What is it? What's happened?"
Ienzo has the boy on the ground. The boy's face is contorted in pain; he's breathing hard and twitching a little. Ienzo's face is drawn. "I'm not really sure-he-this score… he insisted it was his, and then he went into this weird trance, and I think he's remembering something . Even, I don't know."
Even catches sight of this supposed score. At a glance, he can tell it's ancient; much like the young man on the floor. He crouches next to him and begins checking his vitals. The boy's heart is positively racing. The blood loss was really hard on his heart. "He's clearly in pain, and cannot maintain a heart rate that high for very long." He sedates the boy, and finally Demyx settles into it, his expression slackening, his heart rate beginning to lower to something livable.
The boy's memories must be coming back. The score was a trigger. If he is as emotionally fragile as Even-and is reliving all that war trauma-he might not pull through, his new heart might break.
"You know what this is, don't you?" Ienzo asks.
He looks back at the score again. It doesn't surprise him Demyx hasn't told Ienzo. Where to even begin? Then again, does Ienzo need to deal with yet more lies of omission? "It was not my secret to share."
"Even," Ienzo says, his voice sharp and, if he's reading this right, afraid.
"Xehanort had more than one trump card up his sleeve." He sighs."Didn't you find it strange how we all arrived in groups? Us apprentices with Lea and Isa, and then the four neophytes. There was some degree of time between each arrival, but not nearly enough to justify what were were told. If we were to believe it, that humanoid Nobodies were rare, shouldn't it have taken a lot longer to find the original thirteen?" He brushes his hair out of his face. "I'm not sure how exactly, but Xehanort pulled four Keyblade wielders from the age of fairy tales and made them Nobodies. Obfuscated their memories too, from the looks of things. I have no idea why it is he did this. But Xemnas told them at some point before the war, and Demyx asked me to investigate. I'm guessing this connection between you two only furthered his progress to humanity, and that when presented with a trigger, the memories came back."
Ienzo looks down at him, his expression pinched. "So it's true then."
Even nods. "...Yes. It's true. I've studied his DNA myself. You positively would not believe it, Ienzo-"
Something like hurt crosses his face. "And you didn't think it prudent to ever mention this to me?"
"Would it have changed your mind?"
He drops his eyes. "No."
"Precisely. I assure you he hasn't experienced that passage of time."
"...He said he'd remembered something from his past. I did not think it was this. So that means he's really a-" He bites his lip.
"Yes." He smiles sadly. "I worked so hard to make replicas who could wield Keyblades, and we had four wielders right under our noses."
"But will he be all right?"
No point lying any longer. "Hard to say. All of those memories, some doubtless very gruesome and traumatic, his heart just healing… we must be patient."
Again, they maneuver him to his bed, as gently as possible. Even starts him on fluids, another dose of the sedative. They can't afford to have his heart rate spike. In all this, and despite his own nursing training, Ienzo doesn't help; his expression is empty, horrified. He's crying, though soundlessly. Even takes him away, makes him drink some tea.
"It is… a lot to process," Even says. "But we've seen Roxas and Xion in spells like these and they both came out on the other side. Have faith." He doesn't mention that the two had considerably fewer memories to recover. This will not help Ienzo. Then again, Even isn't sure what will.
In a voice that breaks Even's heart, he asks, "Why is healing so dangerous?"
Question of the century. "It's only as dangerous as we delude ourselves," Even says finally. "Unfortunately, the spell he was under was a strong one."
"Do you think he'll be different?"
He thinks about it, about Ienzo's own dramatic transformation once he returned to himself. This gentle boy is nothing like his cruel Nobody; though likely that took, and is taking, work. "Perhaps," he says. "But no different than you yourself are. But the boy loves you, Ienzo. You can tell by the way he looks at you. I don't think that will change."
He drops his eyes. "Is it typical, to feel this amount of shock?"
He reaches out to feel Ienzo's temperature. Clammy. "Like many such reactions, it's a stress response."
He speaks haltingly. "It is so… strange. With all that's happened in the past month or so, I find myself wondering if it is good to allow such vulnerability."
This is the most candid Ienzo's been with him yet, the closest insight Even's had to his emotions.
The last thing the boy needs is to close himself off more. "I admit the situations have been… extreme." Even flinches. "But we've spent long enough closing our hearts and minds off to others, don't you think?"
This doesn't provide the comfort he thought. "You're one to talk," he says in a sharp voice. "You've been holed up in your lab all day every day, barely speaking to anyone. You seem to be the most hesitant of us all to accept humanity. Atonement aside."
Thing is, he's right. "I don't deny it. But I have not spent my time experimenting."
"What are you doing, then?" He looks exhausted now.
"Writing. Reflecting, mostly. Things always were the most tangible to me when they were on paper. If I can record my thoughts as data, perhaps I can make sense of them."
His eyes soften just a little. "Is it working?"
Even can't believe it; a real conversation. "Heavens, no. But if I do not tread these tides of emotion, then I am more foolish than I thought."
He cants his head slightly. "What is it you feel?"
"Mostly-remorse-" He admits. He shakes his head. "As scientists, one of our duties is upholding a moral code. Needless to say, we broke it. Xehanort was manipulative, yes, but while you were a child, I was an educated man who should have known better. I did know better. But I figured the gains I made would offset the costs. They have not. And now I want to use my skills for the greater good." But how?
"Do you think the replicas could have anything to do with that?" He becomes yet more earnest.
He still has those samples needing analysis, sitting quietly in the freezer. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." But-what right does he have to create life, anymore? Isn't it unnatural? A query to ponder over later-back to the matter at hand, the real, tangible human sitting across from him. He gathers the rest of his remaining strength and looks Ienzo in the eye. "I must apologize to you, Ienzo."
He blinks. "Even-"
"We can blame Ansem's utter lack of paternal instinct all we want, but ultimately it is my fault that this all happened to you." He thinks of his foolhardy plan to escape; even after that there were opportunities. "I should have understood Xehanort's machinations and taken you out of that mess, but I was selfishly nearsighted. Things are always clearer in retrospect. Are they not? You deserved a normal childhood, a normal adolescence, and got anything but. And years of fear and trauma on top of it." Who knew where Ienzo might have gone, otherwise? Without all this holding him back?
The boy exhales. "I forgive you," he says.
He can't mean that. There's no way. But there's no dishonesty in his face, his body language. A warmth wells in him, something bittersweet. Is it possible to mend their bond? Or is this just another example of Ienzo's newfound "niceness"? "You're a kind young man," Even says. "I will try to make this up to you." He stands. "I'm off to do some reading. There might be a better way for me to help Demyx after all." He squeezes the boy's shoulder.
And retreats to his work.
He wonders if his replicas might be of use once more. The screen seems piercingly bright when he cracks open the laptop.
It's actually been a while since he's read the real journals. He starts from the most recent, begins working his way back, skimming over all the biological nonsense, towards the more metaphysical.
There's a question how to give No. i memories, he reads. It's going to need them, to carry through-if we hope to make its "heart" worthy of a "Keyblade", it's going to need a sense of self, a certain nobility. How to do this while also keeping it under our control?
Oh, Vexen. You naive dunce.
The replica reports aren't much use. Xion did all the work on her memories herself, almost spontaneously. There has to be something he can do to wavebreak the tide, so to speak; not just for Demyx, but for everyone. He storms to the library, digging for volumes, his hands trembling. In a sort of desperation, he even seeks fairy tales. The boy basically is one. But it's all magic, and Even has no magic-
He feels helpless. If he fails Demyx, he fails Ienzo. And he can't do that.
Maybe sleep will give him some clarity?
Some hope.
He's just drifting when he hears the door creak open. Without thinking, he grabs the scalpel on the table next to him. "Who's there?" He blinks, his vision focusing. "Oh… Ienzo? Is something wrong? Is it Demyx?"
"No, he's still stable-it's fine. It can wait until morning." His tone is devoid of feeling.
"Clearly not, if you felt the need to come to me at this godforsaken hour. Whatever is the matter?"
He thinks for a moment. Then, "Do you think it's possible to regain our powers?"
Of course-with Zexion's power of illusion, and therefore memory, he might be able to shake this horrid spell, or at least find some way to help. But… humans simply aren't meant to have these powers, otherwise they would've had them already, yes? He's read something about this… he tries to remember. Won't the use put yet more undue strain on Ienzo's body? "Why on earth would you want that?"
"Illusion let me see memories. If I can gain control over it, maybe I can help purge the darkness in the basement and help whoever's stuck down there find peace." He bites his lip. "Demyx is likely to be shaken up. Perhaps I can help him too. If I can make order of his memories, perhaps he will wake up without too much damage to his heart."
Naturally Ienzo will be the best one to handle this- if he can control those powers. But the nature of such power is that it is unnatural. It's not supposed to exist. In their studies, the calculated entropy alone- "Have you even tried casting a spell?"
"Once," Ienzo says. "It… did not go well. I had a terrible migraine. I was wondering if you might have some sort of medicine that might let me work through the pain."
Even darts over to his bookshelf, seeking a certain volume, finding it finally. "You see… the thing is… such elemental power comes from the will, typically as a manifestation of some psychological trait or another. Hence why, in the absence of a heart, we were able to use it as Nobodies. But now that you are human… you've no need for such defense mechanism. Your being is whole. Trying to invoke it could be disastrous. The entropy of it alone would, in the best possible scenario, induce sleep." His heart and will would fight for control over his body, destabilize him…
"Sleep?" the boy asks.
"Sleep akin to death," Even says darkly. "They must lie so closely together. And you must hope you find the strength, fast enough, to save your life before you're claimed by the other side. Ienzo." His turns towards the boy beseechingly. "Would the risk be worth it? Is there not another way you can atone?"
"What about the reward?" he asks instantly.
"Ienzo-"
"Please, Even. I'll be careful." His eyes show that his mind is made up. Regardless of whether or not Even helps him, he's made his decision.
Even can't make this boy's choices for him anymore. If he were ever able to. He crosses over to a cabinet, considers what's left of his store, what's still good. He finds one of the only painkillers he has which can also allow the boy to remain lucid. "Take half of one of these," he says sternly. "You'll feel no pain. But should your nose start bleeding, drop everything instantly and rest."
"Is that a side effect?"
"No. But that'll be entropy wreaking havoc on your body." Even presses the bottle into his hand. "Let me watch over you."
He looks at the pills. "I think this is something I have to do on my own."
"You children always think you know what's best. Fine. But if you do not text me within three hours I will hunt you down."
He nods. For just a second, Even senses a kinship between them again. "Very well. Thank you, Even. This means a lot to me."
"Don't thank me yet."
As the timer ticks down… Even frets, and paces. He prepares a kit, should this all go poorly, with fluids and epinephrine and the like. His own anxiety is spiking. But if he were in the same shoes, wouldn't he do everything in his power to save his dear one? Imagine the guilt otherwise?
He can't breathe. Panicking will be no use. You must be calm. Focused. The boy has always been more than he seems. If anyone can do this, it's Ienzo.
He's still not prepared when it happens. When he hears the gummiphone, and sees it's Ienzo, the relief hangs heavily in him. But the voice that speaks isn't his, it's Demyx, jagged and full of razors-"I need help. Even, I need-"
"Demyx? How long have you been conscious?"
"I think Ienzo's dying and I don't know how to stop it."
Dying. The word echoes heavily, and so does the further gut punch- I knew it. This is his fault, he should've fought Ienzo harder. "I'm coming. Stay on the line. Put it on speakerphone, do you know how to do that? What happened?"
Demyx sobs. "He found me. In my memory. I don't know how, but he-he said he wasn't supposed to have that power."
Even grabs his kit, already on the move. He swears. "No. He isn't. There's a reason humans don't control the elements willy-nilly. What are the symptoms?" How bad did the boy let it get?
"He's having trouble breathing. His pulse is really fucked up. His nose is bleeding and it seems like he's in a lot of pain-" He gasps out another sob. "I'm sorry, Even."
His legs feel barely there as he runs. "I know you didn't ask for this."
"Why is this happening?"
The words feel divorced from him. His fingers fly across the screen-he needs more than mere medicine. "Power like that comes from the will. It can only exist without the presence of a fully realized heart-otherwise, it's too much power. Hence why Nobodies can use it as a defense mechanism. At that point, entropy starts wreaking havoc on the body. Your cells literally start to break down and melt. The will to live starts to wear down." He has no doubt that the boy overextended himself. His fingers feel numb as he reaches out to that woman, the one who healed Demyx. If she could fix that, she may be the only one to fix this.
Demyx's breath catches. "Ienzo…"
Admittedly, it's a relief that the boy cares so much for him. "I've messaged Aerith. I don't think my skills are enough. We must keep him alive until then." His heart is beating so fast. You don't have time to panic, you old fool. Get it together. Demyx can do all the suffering for both of us.
Distantly, tinnily, he hears, "Don't do this. Please don't do this."
"Demyx?" he prompts, another thrill of panic making his vision sheeny.
"He's not breathing."
"I need you to start doing compressions. Hard. We can fix broken ribs." He's almost there. Why did he let himself get so physically weak?
"Why would you do this?" the boy asks. "Why didn't you let me drown?"
He's there. Finally. He throws the door open. He sees Ienzo on Demyx's bed, more corpse at this point than boy, soaked again in blood from his nose, and Demyx frantically trying to do compressions. He pulls the syringe of epinephrine from his bag, sticks the boy. Demyx is sobbing, a weirdly animal sound. Without machinery or magic, Even has no way of truly assessing Ienzo's condition. He barely has a pulse. "Keep doing what you're doing," he says to Demyx as gently as possible. "If you're tired I can-" But he can tell he's talking to a wall. The younger man isn't responding.
Aerith arrives at last. He sees something like horror in her green eyes before a mask settles into place.
"You should go," Even tells Demyx. The last thing they need is for him to have this mental breakdown right here.
"I'm not leaving him."
"You are in far too much distress to be a comfort to him."
"But what if he-"
Even seizes him by the arm and pushes him. He slinks towards the door, trembling all over; Aerith whispers spells, ancient old words. "What happened?" she asks after a moment.
Even explains as quickly as possible.
"I can try to treat the body," she says, though her teeth. "But if his will is worn down, then-"
"Do you think it is?"
"Oh, it is," she says. "I use… when I heal, I use people's own energies, their auras, which is basically the physical version of a will. I can barely feel anything, Even."
He feels himself go numb. "Is this a fool's errand, then?"
"Like I said. I'll try my best. If it would be more of a comfort you could leave too-"
"I will not."
For a moment, the sharpness of his tone causes her head to snap up; she quickly glances back down. "Can you connect the port line you've started to the blood replacement I brought?"
He does what the woman asks, feeling so helpless. "Would it break your concentration, to tell me what's going on?"
She takes a quick breath. She holds her hands over him, and while it looks like she's not doing much, Even can see the strain the magic is having. "It's the internal bleeding that's the problem," she mumbles. "Between that, and the nosebleed, he's lost something like three liters-and he's a small man. A lot of his organs have failed, and some are bleeding too. Feels like the power must've started eating them. Not to mention his heart. It feels like it hasn't been beating, though I know Demyx was doing good compressions-two of his ribs are broken. He must've entered something like sleep to stay alive while he used his powers. Fixing it is going to take time-time I'm not sure he has." She glances up. "But I'll try my best."
"Is there anything I can…" Ienzo's in more trouble, and he can't do a single thing except watch.
"Ethers, if you have them. I'm going to need them."
Numbly, Even nods, and leaves the room. Demyx sits curled next to the door frame, his hands bloody from the compressions, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. "...Boy?" Even asks softly.
He doesn't respond. Likely he can't.
He heads back towards his lab, spots Aeleus. At least one thing can be done.
The other man takes in his bedraggled appearance, the spots of blood on his white coat. "Even?" he asks.
"Aeleus, I need you to do something for me-likely several. You need to look after Demyx. He's in shock. I'm not sure what he might do. I'm afraid Ienzo's done something foolish in order to save him." He explains about Demyx's past, Ienzo's condition. "I need to be with him, and help that woman how I can. Do not let Demyx in-I don't care what you have to do to the boy. Nor Ansem, should he approach. Understand?"
Fear breaks his stoic expression. "Of course."
Even feels himself slipping, adrenaline and panic making him weak and clumsy. He gathers what supplies he has for the healer, and then he returns. "Anything?" he asks her.
"He's fighting. But he's so tired," Aerith explains. "Still unstable. I'm working on it."
So Even waits. He watches her hands twist and gesture in foreign spells, offers her ethers, water, cloths for the sweat on her face. Mostly he just tries to keep it together, to not allow himself to consider what might happen if Ienzo doesn't pull through. After what must be hours… she drops her hands, breathing hard. Even begins bracing himself. "Stable," she says quietly. "The bleeding's under control. We should probably bring him somewhere he can recover in the long term."
"...Just pick him up?"
"His body's rebounding well… that's not what I'm worried about."
The door slits open-Even sees Dilan's face, his own panic mirrored back at him. "What on earth is going on-"
"You moron, we don't need your meddling right now-"
"Can he carry him?" Aerith asks.
"I'm sure I can," Dilan says. "But what-"
Even sighs. And explains.
"But why would Ienzo do this?" he asks. "He never-"
"I will not have you fret," Even snaps. "Let's get him moved."
Dilan approaches Ienzo slowly. Despite the transfusion, he still looks deathly pale. As carefully as possible, he lifts him. They settle him back into his own bed; Even dresses him in something clean. He knows the boy is unaware of everything, but still is embarrassed for him anyway. Washes the blood off his face. Tucks him in. Aerith starts another transfusion.
"You said you're not worried about his body," he says, suddenly processing what was heard earlier.
She shakes her head. "Now that the damage is largely healed," she says. "It's his will to live-healthy body or not, if he's weakened it, there's no animating force behind him. It must've taken energy to… do what he did. He must've essentially lent Demyx his own, to get him out of the memories. There are a… few things I can try, to gauge how bad it is. He's hanging on now. That's the important thing." She looks up. There are bruise-colored circles under her eyes. "Is he a… determined person?"
"...Stubborn to a fault," Even admits. "How do you think he got in this mess? First he didn't listen to me about… falling in with that boy, and then he wouldn't let me monitor him."
She sighs. "Good. That's good. It might make all the difference. You should go tell your family."
It's the word choice that startles him. "I'm sure Dilan's doing nothing but making them worry." But before he can move, there's a gentle knock.
Ansem, exhausted and haggard. "My poor boy…"
Even scowls. "I thought I told Aeleus to keep you away from here."
"Aeleus is preoccupied."
"He doesn't need more stress."
"Even, I've missed most of the horrific events in Ienzo's life. The least I can do is be present now."
"And he definitely doesn't need you two squabbling," Aerith says firmly. "Stay, or go, I don't care, but what Ienzo needs is peace. If it's something this deeply metaphysical, he'll definitely sense the difference."
Ansem nods and approaches the boy, sitting at his feet.
Very well. Let Even do all the heavy lifting. Like he always does.
He leaves. He can feel he's shaking. If Ienzo passes on… what then?
What would he possibly have left?
He finds the other three in the sitting room; Demyx wrapped in a blanket, Aeleus gently consoling him; Dilan sits with his head in his hands. "He's stable," he explains when the three of them look up. "Aerith is with him now."
"What exactly happened?" Dilan asks. "Demyx said something about overextending his power."
"As far as I can tell-and it's still early-that's the case." He clutches the back of a chair. "We're not meant to truly have access to our elemental power. It's an essence of the self, a projection in the absence of a heart-weapons are another mystery. By trying to regain it, however lightly, the entropy of a Nobody's nonexistence began to eat away at his organs. Particularly his heart."
"...The organ?" Demyx asks. It's the first Even's heard him speak since. His voice is odd, hollow. "Or-"
"We're not sure how his metaphysical heart has been affected. But I have to learn to relinquish control when something's out of my hands… and it is. Aerith is healing the physical damage. He's asleep right now. Ansem is with him too." He meets Demyx's eyes. "Might I have a word with you?"
The boy's eyes widen a little in fear, but he follows Even, taking the blanket with him. He leads the boy to his quarters, gestures for him to sit. "Can I get you some tea? Something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry." Hollow and raw.
"You're going to need your strength." There's not much of anything in his cabinets, just some likely stale biscuits in a tin. He places them on the coffee table in front of the boy, but he doesn't take any. He has no idea how to help. If Ienzo has saved Demyx's life, the least he can do is be of use. It's what the boy would want. He starts taking his vitals. "Slight fever. Blood pressure low. Eat something. It'll help. We should probably try to get some more caffeine into your system too." Demyx watches him warily. Something looks different about the boy, something Even can't place his finger on.
"Did you lie to Aeleus and Dilan?"
"Not technically." He takes off the stained coat, sits. He's exhausted. "I need to gather more information about the situation. And considering the extreme… delicacy of the situation, I figured you'd rather have some privacy."
He shivers and won't make eye contact. "How is Ienzo really?"
"The picture I have is not clear." He puts a hand to his splitting head. "As I said, use of his power wrought havoc on his internal organs. There's a good deal of internal bleeding, as well as kidney failure. But the most concerning of these things was his heart. I'm not sure yet for how long or when, but use of his power stopped it from beating. Not… death, exactly, but a type of sleep very near it. Something impossible to maintain without intervention. So, naturally, once he tried to wake back up, he went into shock." Even pauses. Now that he's coming down himself, his perception is improving. The boy is different. His eyes were never that deep shade of green. "Have your eyes always been so green, or am I just getting old?"
Demyx stares at him blankly.
"Can you tell me what you recall from earlier yesterday afternoon? Do you remember anything?"
He sighs. It's a heavy sound. "That's putting it mildly," he says. He explains that they'd been working, that he'd realized the ancient score was his. "I just… started remembering. Everything about my life then started coming back, wave after wave after wave. There was just so much pain. I felt like I couldn't escape it. I couldn't . And then… well I don't know how. But he got into my head, literally, and dragged me out of the memory. And then I woke up."
It's all starting to click. "...Fascinating," Even mumbles. "Zexion always could use the memories of others to create illusions. But to actively be able to alter them…" He clucks his tongue. "If he's closely bonded to you, it makes sense that he was able to do so. Naminé was only able to alter memories of those in and around Sora. His power must have functioned similarly."
"He should have left me there," Demyx whispers.
"I believe his friendship with Sora has given him something of a hero complex." He uncrosses his legs. "Nonetheless, you deserve to live too. I have been too harsh with you. I always have."
"I wasn't exactly a good person then."
The admission surprises him. Demyx always had a sort of cockiness to him in the past. To have him out here so nakedly; is this the memories giving him clarity? Or is it simple change? If Even were not so shocked, he would find it fascinating. "No worse, I'm sure, than I. The complex dynamics of the Organization involved quite a lot of groupthink. It was easy to blame you as the source of our problems. The truth is more nuanced than that."
"The Organization was all I knew at the time." He tightens the blanket around his shoulders. "I still wanted to be free. But I didn't want it enough to make the effort of fighting worth it. So I made do."
"As one does." He can't help but see himself in this story, his wayward attempts at survival doing nothing more than causing himself and Ienzo years of trauma.
"It's okay." Demyx sighs. "Dilan and I agreed to start over. Maybe you and me should do the same."
Even nods. "Second chances involve quite a lot of forgiveness," he says. "But perhaps we all have more common ground than we think."
This said, the boy's eyes settle back into the middle distance. He is different; Even can just feel it. More intense. More serious, and vulnerable. He thought it was the lighting at first, but the boy's hair has changed, all the remaining blonde gone. Changed like a replica when it gets a heart, though the boy's body is organic. He holds himself a little straighter.
So he's done it, then. Completed his reformation. Something similar must be coming towards Even in the coming weeks and months. Something that may be worth studying-at the very least, so he can brace himself, fall apart as little as possible. Not to mention, the richness of what Demyx might know of such old times, times that were hardly written about. Even feels a small thrill despite himself. "I understand you're still in shock, and naturally are very worried. But will you tell me about your past? I can only imagine what this must all be like for you."
"Shock is right. I feel numb." He sounds it.
"Perhaps you should get some rest," Even suggests.
Demyx shakes his head. "I want to see him."
How can this traumatized boy offer Ienzo the peace he needs? Not when he himself is so uncertain. "I don't know if that is necessarily the best for either of you at the moment. Believe me. We will keep an eye on him. Sleep might help you get some clarity."
"What I'd like to do is take a bath. I'm so cold."
"Then by all means."
Demyx leaves without so much as casting a backwards glance in his direction. He hasn't eaten, Even realizes.
He does not have the strength to care for the two boys and himself at once.
Even sinks into bed. He can feel wetness in his own eyes.
Don't do this, Ienzo. Don't give up. Please.
But is he praying for the boy's sake, or his own?
No; Even does not matter. Ienzo deserves a full and happy life. He still has so much left ahead of him; unlike the rest of them, he can bounce back, can be forgiven for his mistakes (though are they really his own?).
Even can't sleep. He is numb, tired. He forces himself up. Aerith and Demyx both need feeding. But he finds that Aeleus has already cooked. "The least I can do," he says softly. "Even… you look positively horrid."
"I… know why Ienzo did what he did," he says. "If it were me… if I could save the person most important… I… like to think I would've." I wish I could do it now.
"It makes it no easier," Aeleus says, with a nod. "You should eat as well."
"Yes." Aeleus is a decent enough cook, but the soup tastes like nothing. "Any word?"
"Nothing yet. She hasn't left that room but to ask for some water."
"The girl needs food. It's a lot of magic." He doesn't sound like himself. "I'll get her."
"Even?"
Wearily, he turns.
"You can be upset about this," Aeleus says. "I know it must… evoke painful memories."
Even chuckles. "What doesn't, these days," he admits.
Aerith is still crouched by Ienzo. "His body is still alive," she says when she sees him. "I'm afraid… he's very deeply asleep."
"More than on a physical level, I assume," Even says.
"Well, yes. The will's worn down, but still here. It needs to rest, to restore itself. Kind of like… putting itself into power-saver mode. Ergo, Ienzo can't move."
"Can the boy recover from it?"
"I… believe so," she admits. "But I honestly have no idea how long it will take. Weeks? Months? I've never seen something like this before."
"I can care for a sleeping child. I've done it before."
She nods, slowly. "I'll come back later to check on him."
"Aeleus has made dinner. I insist you go get some. You look peaked."
"Thank you… saves me the embarrassment of asking." She smiles a little.
"I… can't thank you enough. If it were only me…"
Aerith nods. "It's my duty. My pleasure." She leaves.
While he's at it, he rouses Demyx, too, who is just as surly about eating until Even tells him Aerith's there. Both children fed… he returns to the scene of the crime.
Ienzo sleeps.
Much like that night all those years ago, he's breathing much too deeply and evenly, not so much as twitching. It's not natural sleep in that regard. Keeping the body breathing and the heart beating is all his will can manage. He sits next to the boy. He's positive Ienzo can't hear him, unlike a normal coma patient; but he still speaks anyway. Science is reasonable; scientists are human. "He's alright, you know," Even says to him. "But I'm afraid I'm going to give you a stern talking-to concerning your self worth, when you wake." He brushes the boy's hair out of his eyes. His skin is a little feverish. "Do not… scare me like that again." He squeezes Ienzo's hand gently.
And lets him sleep.