AN: Sorry for the REALLY long update delay. I know some things might seem a little off in this chapter, but hopefully they wont. I have nothing else to say.

Disclaimer: Notta mine. Well, some of the characters are, but none that anyone would want.



Through These Eyes

Chapter Seven

Wolves in the Walls



"Every whisper

Of every waking hour I'm

Choosing my confessions

Trying to keep an eye on you"

- Losing my Religion, REM



~~~~~~

Riku sighed and rubbed his temples before absently batting away the large mouth trying to nibble his hair. Operation Monster Mover had been exhausting, even if none of his personal efforts had been successful. That, plus the mental drain from having an absolutely furious Anti Sora pacing around had left Riku with a pounding headache and a bone deep weariness. To top it all off, the young behemoth absolutely refused to move unless it could see silver haired keybearer. It followed him like a love starved puppy and tried to chew on his head every few minutes.

At first he had tried to leave it, hoping it would go find mommy or whatever it was that made baby heartless and go off on it own. But it followed them relentlessly, shrugging off Riku's orders with apparent ease. Anti Sora was riding it.

The clone lay stretched out on its back, glaring at the sky, and it said something for his current level of pissyness that he didn't even try to bait his master.

The shadow was in the ground under their newest addition, in the hopes that Anti Sora was an out of sight out of mind sort of guy. Which, of course, he wasn't, but the doppelganger's mind was far too full of dark images involving the Riku clone and about a million acupuncture needles.

Remington walked behind the rest of the group, gate measured and easy, note pad shoved into a shadowy pocket. He was the only one completely at ease.

With a heartfelt sigh Riku signaled them to stop. The sun was below the tree line now, they had lost their only bearing back to the road. "We'll stay here for the night." He ran a hand across the behemoth's head, wiping away some of the dirt. It nuzzled his chest before sinking slowly to the ground. It didn't understand the human words, but it could tell there would be no more traveling today.

Anti Sora slid off the broad back and walked stiffly away, shoving Remington as he passed, before disappearing deeper into the forest.

The affronted heartless watched him leave, expression considering.

~~~~~~

Mary sat on the edge of the boardwalk, head in her hands. No one in town would go search for Sora, not tonight, and it was too late to go ask her elder sister for help, she would never make it there before dark. She didn't know what to do.

Well, okay, that wasn't true. She did know what to do. Go home, tell mother what had happened, write up a will. Still, it wasn't a very appealing thought.

She could go look for him herself, but that was really asking for it, from both the monsters and her mother. Even if she survived one, she surely wouldn't survive the other. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, another skill sharply honed. She didn't really have much of a choice at all. "I'd best go home."

"No, really?"

Another sigh. "Go away, Taylor. You're no help."

"I'll walk you home."

She raised her head, glaring at him, "I can make it by myself, I'm the tough sort, too."

He smiled down at her, eyes glowing gently in the remaining light. "I'll walk you home."

~~~~~~

"Heeelloooo?" Sora cocked his head, listening for an answer. He could hear pained whimpers coming from deeper within the forest, carried by the cool candy scented breeze. "Hello?! Riku? Is that you?" His only answer was a weak wail that might have been the wind through the branches.

Except that it wasn't.

Sora hesitated for a moment, he had finally rediscovered the path, or a path at least, and really didn't want to lose it again. But there was the possibility that those weak noises were Riku, or some other innocent, and he couldn't just ignore them. With an expression more resembling grimace than his usual grin, Sora once again veered off the road and into the brush.

It rustled loudly as he pressed through it, thorns he didn't remember being there cutting his hands and face. The whining grew louder and more desperate as he got closer, or perhaps as the sun set lower.

The trees played tricks with the sound, despite the volume increase, and Sora nearly fell over the lean figure sprawled on the ground before him. Would have, if it hadn't cringed when his shadow fell across it. "Whoa!" Sora jerked back, regaining his balance.

The creature huddled into a ball and whined, sounding truly pathetic; it was covered in dirt and leaves.

Sora knelt down besides it, worried. "Hey, what's wron-"

It lunged with all the speed of the dark wolf, knocking him on his back in the soft dirt, muddy hands gripping his shirt, face twisted into a furious snarl. One angry blue eye glared at him.

Sora, wide eyed with shock and a trickle of fear, struggled to get the keyblade between him and the creature. He wriggled madly and kicked out at the thing's legs, but it didn't lose its hold. He could feel its breath on his face, hot and sick. One of its hands grabbed his chin, and suddenly his head was still, held unmoving by a grip like steel.

All at once the creature stopped and drew away, its head cocked quizzically, confusion replacing the burning fury. "You- You're just a boy."

Sora kicked it in the chest and scrambled back, raising the keyblade in front of him. The thing didn't follow, just hunched over, leaning on its arms, and staring at him. It was then that Sora realized he was looking at a man. He was filthy, more child than adult, but definitely human, with grey-white hair, feminine hands, and one bright blue eye that trained itself warily on him. "Well, what else would I be?" Sora snapped, annoyed, "I've been calling for twenty minutes."

The boy shrugged, managing to look sullen and apologetic at the same time.

"What are you doing out here any- Oh." There was a rusty, jagged toothed wolf trap clamped tightly on the boy's ankle. Sora's eyes followed the chain trailing from the trap to the large spike stuck in the ground. "Oh."

"I can't get it off." The boy was back to looking pathetic, his eye clouded with pain.

"Oh." Sora stared. It was a terrible sight, blood mixed in with torn flesh and shards of white that might be bone. "I-I'm sorry. I don't, I wouldn't know how to open it either... I'll go look for help, there's got to be someone around here somewhere." He stood up.

"No!" The young man scrambled to his hands and knees, damaged leg stretched out behind him, "Please! Please, don't leave me." Tears shimmered in his eye.

"I-" Sora ran a hand through his hair, "I don't know what to do. I don't know where we are. I don't know what to do."

The tears spilled over.

"I- Oh God, I guess I can give it a try, but- Well, it'll probably really hurt." He raised the keyblade.

The boy nodded, gritting his teeth in anticipation. He didn't question what the giant key was for, or how on earth a child younger than him could do anything but run for help.

Sora focused on the trap, concentrating, this would be totally worthless if he took of the other's leg too. He cast fiagra, very, very, carefully. A thin tongue of white hot flame hit the cool metal. Sora ignored the sounds of shocked pain coming from his companion, focusing on the next spell. Ice crystals appeared on the super heated trap, melting instantly. The metal cracked and fell away while the one eyed boy howled with pain.

~~~~~~

While Sora and Riku were preparing to spend the night out in the creepy forest Kairi was lounging on her living room couch watching television. Her mother sat in the recliner cutting out coupons for the Saturday fish market. Her father was still at work.

"Did you have a good time with your friends, dear?" Her mother's voice from the other side of the scissors, a bit more distant than usual.

"Yeah. Selphie's mom made us cake."

"Hm." There was an awkward pause, "What kind of cake?"

"Pink."

"Ah," her mother's eyes grew distant for a moment, remembering when her little girl really was little. "I bet the boys loved that."

"They must have, they ate most of it." She turned slightly to smile at her mother. "Love you, Mom."

The older woman matched the expression, eyes softening, distance closing. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

They settled back and watched TV.

~~~~~~

There aren't many things stupid enough to think they can eat a behemoth. Even a small, tired behemoth is a lot more than the typical forest critter can manage, so most of them avoided Riku's camp and the ones that did go to investigate stayed well away from the firelight.

Riku himself was already asleep, leaning against the young behemoth's side, his head on its foreleg. He kept a firm grip on the keyblade, nonetheless.

His clone wasn't nearly as relaxed. Remington sat by the fire, staring into the forest. He could hear Anti Sora rustling around somewhere nearby and it was beginning to annoy him. The other heartless had refused to do anything, tramping off into the woods for three hours before finally returning to sulk just outside of the firelight.

Remington did his best to ignore the continued crunching, which echoed quite nicely between the trees. Every monster and its mother had to know where they were. It was only a matter of time until one of them grew bold enough to attack.

The shadow sat by Riku's side, antenna poking up from the ground, shifting a little at every cracking twig and crunching leaf. It jumped at the dull thud of a shadowy keyblade lodging itself into an ancient tree trunk. Trembling as the wind picked up into an angry howl.

Remington stood. This had gone on long enough. A sword, a dark replica of Riku's curved scimitar, materialized in his hand and he walked out into the darkness.

Personally, Anti Sora felt he was being remarkably restrained. What he wanted to do was cut off Remington's head and stick it in a blender, then beat his 'master' half to death with a big stick, potion him back to health, and set him on fire. He considered attacking trees and stomping around a mature and reasonable substitute for manslaughter. Remington, the little suck up, obviously disagreed. He stood in front of the dark Sora clone, arms crossed over his chest, wearing an expression of cultivated disapproval.

Anti Sora glared at him before sneering and purposefully slamming the cloned keyblade into the dry flesh of an old oak.

The disapproval grew.

Anti Sora turned his back, sticking his nose in the air. There was a gentle pressure on his arm and then he was being pulled backward and forced to the ground. Remington ripped his keyblade from the tree and held it up like a scepter before casting some sort of light spell that Anti Sora didn't recognize. A dozen sharp toothed faces were illuminated, angry and snarling. Most leapt back as the light hit their eyes, stumbling and yelping. A few held their ground, growling deep in their throats.

Remington ignored them, choosing instead to trail his fingers over the wounded oak. He crouched next to Anti Sora, holding his hand an inch from the other's face. It was wet with blood.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Then Remington stood, pulling Anti Sora with him, and hauled the other back to camp.

~~~~~~

It was exactly what Mary had not been looking forward to.

"What do you mean 'he ran off'?"

"Just that. He ran off, right out of town. He was really fast!"

Amelia sat on Lance's lap, eyes wide and frightened. The other children sat in their own chairs, eyes locked on their sister.

"I'm sorry, Mama." Mary stared at her feet, defeated.

"I should hope so. And what do you have to say for yourself, Taylor? That boy's not from here, he doesn't know half the danger out there." Mrs. Lawrence rounded on her young guest. She had known his parents since grade school and was more than comfortable lecturing him.

Taylor looked down as well, suppressing the urge to shrug or say something flippant. An 'oh, really' would not go over well. "He's a tough kid, he'll be all right."

"You don't know that! All you know is that he's alone in the woods! You have no idea if he's safe."

"I'll go look for him, Mom." Lance's voice was soft but dramatically audible and Amelia looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

Mrs. Lawrence hesitated. "No. No." She shook her head, night had already fallen and town was miles away, it would be gone midnight before a search could really start. She wouldn't have her son out in that, not when chances of finding the boy were so slim. "We'll all go looking tomorrow; I want all of you up by four." The sun rose at five thirty, they would have time to do the essential chores and eat before they set out. "Larue,"

The middle boy perked up.

"Go get fresh sheets for Taylor."

"Oh, that's all right. I'm not staying."

~~~~~~

Rufus Shinra was playing golf.

"Oh my God, look out!"

A version of it anyway.

He stood on one side of his 67th floor office, club in hand, swinging at brightly colored golf balls that, upon flying out of the open picture window, were transformed into lethal weapons. The shouts of the people below carried up from the narrow streets, echoing nicely in the cold air. The blonde smiled, expression content.

Rufus liked dangerous things. It was why he kept so many guns, though he had more than enough bodyguards, why he drove a white sports car with turbo engines down the congested midgar streets, though he rarely got the chance to speed, and why he usually had Tseng stand just inside his office door like a sentry, though the man would be more useful elsewhere.

Rufus dropped another ball onto the floor, this one neon yellow, a happy face on one side, his own expression growing slightly sour.

Tseng. Unfortunately for him, the leader of the Turks wasn't merely dangerous, he was reasonable. He never took things too far, never made rash or foolish decisions, never raged. He also had the uncanny ability to project his opinions across an entire floor, possibly farther, without acting sullen or argumentative. Everyone knew when Tseng disagreed with something, though after politely voicing his beliefs he never said another word on the matter unless specifically asked. He was always right.

It drove Rufus crazy. The blonde was not particularly reasonable. Oh, he could act cold and unfeeling, professionally detached, he was a superb actor, but inside he boiled, inside he plotted how to get what he desired, no matter how foolish it might be. But somehow Tseng always knew when he was plotting something, and more often than not the Turk would present a polite but irrefutable argument against Rufus's plans.

Tseng disapproved of office golf.

Luckily, Tseng wasn't there.

Rufus lined up his shot and let fly.

~~~~~~

Incidentally at that very moment Tseng was also flying. And in a frightfully similar manner to the little yellow golf ball. The leader of the Turks sat strapped into the pilot's seat of Shinra World's one and only gummi ship. He was alone in the cockpit, having sent Elena and Reno into the back after spending two hours listening to them bicker. Rude had gone with them, presumably to break up any physical fights before they became too bloody. He closed his eyes briefly, hands still tense and ready on the controls. There had been a massive number of hostile ships zooming around, firing at anything not in their formation.

The Turks had been deployed to find and capture the boy who had done such tremendous damage to a 40 floor concrete and steel skyscraper. The money it would take to repair the building had put young President Shinra into a very bad mood. A normal company wouldn't have too much trouble, insurance covering the cost of most repairs. Unfortunately, Shinra wasn't a normal company; it was the world, as well as the singular insurance provider (and the police department and the airport). Rufus wanted retribution, he wanted Riku to be drug back for use as a superweapon, killed, or given a very large bill.

Personally, Tseng thought the entire space venture was a bad idea. The likelihood that they would find their target in a timely manner was extremely low, as was the probability that any good would actually come of finding him. Obviously Rufus had repressed the similar trouble they had experienced with Sephiroth once upon a time.

It also left Shinra World without a strong and versatile attack force. SOLDIER, while quite capable, was like a massive bomb, indiscriminately destructive. The Turks were more like a well placed pen knife, good for all occasions. However, when Tseng had quietly expressed these thoughts to his employer the blonde had twitched, smiled tightly, and ordered him to accompany his team; to provide them "focus" for the mission.

Tseng had gone to make the necessary preparations.

~~~~~~

"Avery Wolcott, pleasure to meet you." The one eyed boy dipped his head and smiled. It was an odd expression on him, making his face look slightly crooked.

"Sora." The keybearer smiled tiredly back, not really noticing the other's facial distortions. The two were walking through the woods together; that is to say, Sora was walking, Avery was performing an odd little hop-skip that might have something to do with his recently curagra-ed ankle but was just as likely a symptom of his personality.

"Have you been in the country long?" It was a broad smile, more of a grin really, with extra teeth. Still, they were cheerful teeth, which somehow made them both better and worse at the same time.

Sora shrugged, grimacing. He was really going to have to get better at this infiltration stuff; everyone seemed to know instantly that he was a foreigner. He would have to learn the illusion spells Donald had used to disguise them. Sora's eyes slipped shut briefly, thinking about the duck making him droop even more.

"Only you don't seem to know very much at all. You were off the path at night, and while it was quite good for me, it was incredibly foolish of you. I'm very grateful." Avery was walking backwards now, facing Sora, face madly animated.

Another shrug. He was feeling past drained. Sora had realized, rather painfully, that the white haired boy seen in town was probably his current companion, which put him back at square one as far as finding Riku. He felt tired and hopeless and the continued jovial temperament of his fellow wasn't helping. Not even the growing scent of cookies revived his spirit.

Sensing his savior's poor mood, Avery fell silent.

~~~~~~

"We must be insane."

"Most likely."

Mary swung a scratched crowbar nervously at her side, knuckles white against the black metal. The moon reflected blue off the grass and leaves on either side of the road. Next to her was Taylor, smoking a cigarette as they walked.

Lance was also out, though Mary had no idea where. He had left long before she had dared to slip out of her bedroom window, only to find Taylor leaning casually against the woodpile holding the crowbar and a stout stick, as if he was waiting for her.

"Then why are you here helping me? I thought that you thought that Sora could take care of himself."

"I do." He took a long drag before blowing smoke into the cool air. "You, however, are a different matter entirely."

"You don't think I can take care of myself?!"

"Nope."

Mary started at the ground, mouth a thin white line, contemplating being alone out in the freezing night. "...Thank God."

"You're welcome, dear."

~~~~~~

Riku sat up in the darkness. He felt off, disconnected from himself, as if he were in a thousand different bodies at once with only the most tenuous tie to his own. Closing his eyes made it worse, so he left them open and watched the world spin as his brain struggled to right itself.

The behemoth slumbered next to him and there was a warm spot on its foreleg where his head had rested. On the other side of the shrinking fire Anti Sora and Remington were silently fighting. It was quite remarkable, considering that Remington was quite asleep. Anti Sora kept glaring at the other, then staring at his feet.

Riku rubbed his eyes and sighed, somehow watching them made him feel oddly disheartened.

The shadow sat next to him, gold eyes glowing in the darkness. It was hugging itself, thin spidery arms wrapped around its body, its antenna curled around each other. It managed to huddle at Riku's side without actually touching him.

"What's wrong?" His voice was husky with sleep.

'The others are watching,' its antenna tightened and pressed against its head.

"What others?" No longer muzzy, but sharp and soft.

'Us,' A flash of the heartless, filled with mingled sadness and hate, 'and the forest... and the mountains.' a mental shiver, it scooted a fraction of an inch closer, but still did not touch. 'They watch,' its yellow eyes brightened for a moment, underlining its point.

"Why? What do they want? Everywhere I go they follow me. That dragon. This behemoth. They never stop following me. Why? If it was for the keyblade they would have attacked already." His voice was a fierce, stressed whisper.

The shadow's surprise flared in his mind '...because you made them, master.'

"No." he almost smiled. Not a nice smile, and not a sane smile. "No, the only ones I ever, ever made were the clones." He glanced over at Anti Sora and Remington, resting in relative comfort on the other side of the crackling fire.

'You made all of us master.' The shadow cocked its head, holding its twined antenna in clawed hands.

"No!" with force and feeling, not volume. "Ansem made you. Ansem. Not me." He shook his head, silver white hair reflecting blue in the moonlight.

The shadow cringed back, hunching over. 'Only master.' It felt afraid and confused, 'only ever master.'

"How can you think I'm him?!" His eyes widened with pained exasperation, "We don't even look alike. He's older than me, not to mention black."

The shadow hunched down, its golden globe eyes looking imploringly up at him. 'Looks change. But... you smell the same, sound the same, feel the same... You, your master!'

Riku pulled back. The shadow had never expressed a thought so violently before, with so much force, or desperation. "I don't want to be the same." A breathless, desperate snarl. He shivered, eyes burning. "I don't want to be the same."

A million different bodies shivered with him.

~~~~~~

It wanted to take off its coat but it couldn't find the buttons. They had been lost somewhere. It was glued inside the sweltering skin, unable to pull free. Sweating through its feet and its mouth and its eyes. Its steps were awkward and drunk, listing to one side, then the other. It fell against trees, bouncing back and forth like a pinball. Its sides heaved from running. It had run for hours, trying to work off the heat, but the burning never lessened, only grew like some blood sucking worm deep inside.

It wanted to tear free of its skin and run naked on the turf while the soft, dewy, green grass cooled its feet. It wanted to drown in a lake and lick the cool sand at the bottom. It wanted the hot fire worm to rip free and die in the dawn air.

It wanted so very many things.

The heat wanted revenge. The heat wanted death. The heat wanted other's blood to run. The heat wanted to cut, slice, tear. Rip, rend, bleed, bite, break, crush, crack, maul, mangle, hack, spear, slit, split, snap ...

So very many things.

~~~~~~

"What is that smell?" Mary inhaled deeply, expression perplexed.

"The cookie house, probably."

She stopped, eyes growing wide, iris swimming in white, "The cookie house? She's baking tonight?"

"Apparently."

"Oh, no. Oh, no. I didn't tell Sora about her! We have to hurry!" walking again, but at a much faster pace.

Taylor followed behind. His steps were still calm, but the muscles across his shoulders had tensed and his eyes were hard.

~~~~~~

"Friends don't keep secrets, Sora, and secrets don't keep friends." A drawl in the dark, close to his ear.

Sora's head snapped up. He frowned, shooting a look at his traveling companion, "What d'you mean secrets?"

Avery's expression was flatly annoyed, "Weeell, you aren't from around here, and when I tried to, ah, more subtly suggest that you tell me from whence ye came, you clammed up." His manic grin was lopsided, and his dirty white hair cast jagged shadows across his face.

Sora was tired. Too tired to deal with the hyper boy and his bright eye and his sensitive questions. He just wanted to curl up and sleep for a few years. "I can't tell you, okay? I just can't." He hesitated a moment, courtesy battling petulance, "Sorry."

"Well." There was an offended pause, then: "Hey, Sora? You hungry?"

The brunette looked up, again, eyes half closed and teeth locked in a smile that wasn't particularly nice. "Why? Do you have a hamburger restaurant in you pocket or something?"

"Noooo." The eye rolled upward, in some bizarre expression of amusement. "But I know where there's food. Not burgers, of course. But cookies and candy." Another broad, superior smile. "You can smell it, but I can find it." He leaned in close, skin dappled and ghostly pale in the moonlight.

Sora perked up, eyes round with wild hope. "Food?"

"Food!"

"Well, lead away then!"

~~~~~~

Lance was not having a good night, but for once, he didn't really notice. He had a purpose, and that purpose overrode discomfort, misery, complaints. The water he sloughed through was most definitely cold, but he didn't shiver; the cries of wild animals were all around him, but he didn't jump or cower.

Like the others out that night he had noticed the scent of sugary flour in the air. It made him walk faster. It made him take risks. A part of his mind observed all of this and began to wonder if all that time spent with sawdust and woodchips was affecting his brain.

Lance left the road at ten-fifty-seven P.M. and was still off it three hours later. He guessed he was somewhere past the town, it was small and easy to miss, but wasn't sure how far.

So he followed his gut instincts and prayed for a miracle. Prayed that somehow the magic that had healed him, saved him from death, would call to him. Prayed that he would find Sora before the brown haired boy knocked on the wrong door and ended up worse than dead.

There was the hiss of monsters around him. He could see them, darker than the darkness. They were angry, but their fury wasn't directed at him. They were focused on low burning fire, staring at it intently, their hate in their eyes.

A few of the small black ones turned, looking him over, golden eyes considering, but they made no move toward him. He pushed past, shielding his eyes as he strode into the circle of firelight.

Lance hadn't found Sora, wasn't called to him by some mystical force, but he did get a miracle.

On the other side of the smoldering flames Riku stood up, silver keyblade in hand, and stared.

~~~~~~

At home, safe in her bed, Kairi was dreaming of a movie theatre full of flying cows that turned to look at her with startled, scandalized expressions when she walked into the large, dark room. A Tropicana orange juice commercial was playing on the big screen, two children singing in high pitched voices about the wonder of 3% juice and palm trees.

Kairi sat and struggled to be inconspicuous, the cows couldn't fit into regular theatre seats, so instead there were a series of bench like steps leading down. They were covered in the typical red, gold trimmed carpet of all movie theatres but were uncharacteristically clean.

The cow next to her ruffled its large wings, looking at her over its nose, before offering its box of popcorn.

"Thank you." Munching a handful of buttery goodness, Kairi settled back to enjoy the movie. Or at least the orange juice ads.

~~~~~~

"Who are you?" The tone of voice was normal, for Riku at least, a mix of curiosity, veiled surprise, and gentle arrogance. He had never been able to shake the last bit, it was always there, hanging onto his words, twisted easily into a friendly jibe or a condescending brush off.

Lance stared openly, taking in the scene before him, hideous monsters arranged around a fifteen year old boy with soot on his face and mud on his clothes.

"Who are you?" and ice had replaced the surprise.

Remembering a story told around the breakfast table over pancakes and homemade butter. A story of ducks and dogs and white haired boys with giant's keys. "Are you Sora's friend?"

"Who. Are. You?" Suspicion stood in for curiosity and arrogance hardened behind frozen aqua eyes.

"My name is Lance." calm and measured and only a touch annoyed, "and if you're his friend then you had better help me because he's out there somewhere and so are the monsters. He was looking for you." No accusation, but guilty pain flashed across Riku's face nonetheless.

"Tell me."

~~~~~~

It wasn't sure where it was anymore. Wandering aimlessly, staggering onward at an awkward run through the aging night. It saw shapes, but didn't recognize them. It didn't need to, none of them were important. Rectangles and ovals and cherry red buttons passing on either side.

The ground melted beneath its burning feet, turning soft and sticky. It trotted drunkenly on, leaving fur and blood behind, stuck to the landscape. It ran straight into the barrier, took half a step back before plowing doggedly onward, forcing its way through.

Its feet ghosted over softness, following the sounds of frightened breathing.

She looked like an outline of heat, burning red in the darkness, flares of bright orange jumping from her to the ground.

It killed her, then collapsed to the floor, sides heaving.

The heat was waiting, it knew that there was more to come.

The other didn't care, it didn't care about anything anymore.

~~~~~~

"There!" Avery pointed ahead, expression smug.

Sora stared, mouth dropping open. They were standing before a small cottage, complete with thatched roof and a little path.

A strawberry straw thatch, and a rock candy path, that is. The little lane was lined with gingerbread men leading up to a licorice porch. The bushes were shaped like small animals and grew gumdrops, the windows were made of more rock candy, the house itself was primarily gingerbread held together with caramel and frosting.

Sora felt rather uneasy about it all. He stood uncertainly at the end of the lane, torn between greedy hunger and common sense. Remembering his mother's yearly warnings about improperly packaged food.

Avery had none of his companion's misgivings. He bounced cheerfully down the path, breaking of the arm of a gingerbread girl as he went.

Sora winced. "Won't, ah, someone be ticked if we eat their house?"

Avery waved a hand dismissively, talking around a mouthful of crumbs, "Nah, wolves and squirrels and stuff gnaw on this place all the time. The owner," He snickered into his hand, "is pretty used to it."

The keybearer walked uncomfortably down the candy lane. It clung to the soles of his shoes, making squelchy, sticky noises whenever he lifted his feet. It made him feel slightly ill, but not ill enough to stop him from pulling free a giant red gumdrop and taking a cautious bite.

He chewed thoughtfully, expression considering. He looked up at Avery, locking eyes with the other boy, before grinning broadly and stuffing the rest of the candy into his mouth.

It tasted wonderful.

~~~~~~

It was gone midnight, incredibly cold and terribly dark.

Riku had gotten them all up and moving within five minutes of Lance's arrival. Anti Sora could still feel his master's controlled panic rubbing painfully across his mind.

The little local boy had given them all the short-short version of events before making to leave. He had claimed that two groups would have a better chance of finding their errant keybearer, though Anti Sora suspected the woodcutter just didn't want to spend more time than absolutely necessary with Riku. He approved of the boy's judgment, having much the same feeling himself.

Unfortunately, Lance hadn't been able to come up with a reason to keep Anti Sora and Remington from going with him. Riku had just half smiled, claiming that the other could hardly be a group by himself and ordered the clones to accompany him. It was clear that they would be going with him whether he agreed to it or not.

Anti Sora checked his imaginary watch. By his estimate they had been walking aimlessly for almost an hour in the incredible cold and terrible dark. And the only things they had managed to stumble across were rocks. It was fifty minutes of his life wasted with only the perfect little bastard for company; Lancelot didn't count. The other clone was walking purposefully in front, carefully moving the greenery out of the way. The two hadn't communicated, even with glares, since the tree incident.

He was such an arrogant little shadow spawn, so sure of the way the forest worked, when he had only been 'born' that morning. Acting like he knew more than his predecessor, trying to rescue worthless behemoths and listening to all of Riku's orders as if the teenager were God. He was such a perfect. little. bastard.

Golden eyes narrowed.

For Anti Sora seething was an art form. He could be vilely angry, intensely furious, terribly agitated; he could even manage definition 2b. churning as if boiling. But this was an entirely different type of seethe. This was the suffering violent internal excitement seethe. For most people that meant anger or frustration. For Anti Sora it meant love.

Remi didn't stand a chance.

~~~~~~

While Anti Sora cultivated a violently obsessive affection for his fellow clone, Riku was learning just how fast a man could travel with a tired baby heartless and a nervous shadow.

The behemoth kept lowling miserably and bumping into its master, Riku's shoulder was very quickly turning unflattering shades of black and blue. The shadow wasn't much better, it would stop randomly, refusing to move forward or back and just stare into the darkness. Riku would have made a light, but all his power was focused on tracking down the other keyblade, he could feel it in his mind, oddly insubstantial but still glowing brightly. It was somewhere close, that he could tell, he could see it much too clearly for it to be far off, but at the same time he couldn't reach it, couldn't pin its location down.

The behemoth was upset, he could feel its fear, pressing against him, distracting his attention from the burning golden keyblade. It didn't know where they were, it didn't know what they were looking for, it didn't know what was wrong with master, it thought he must be wrong/sick/hungry/tired/weak. It bumped into him again, and its thoughts came into focus, sharp relief that it was not alone, that Riku was still there, that he had not disappeared.

He was stabbed by a sudden coldness, eyes he hadn't closed snapped open, the keyblade vanished from his mind, along with the second consciousness, leaving him reeling in a body the wrong shape. He had too few legs and his eyesight was too sharp, he was cold and fragile and not half as strong as he should be.

He looked down, mouth slightly open, trying to readjust.

The shadow was looking up at him. And holding gently onto his hand.

Riku shivered and strode forward, focused on the lost keyblade once more.

~~~~~~

Larue, Lance's younger brother and Mary's elder brother, was sitting at the kitchen table with his remaining siblings. He told them ghost stories and hero stories, stories of princesses and stories of beggars, cat stories, dog stories, duck stories.

Luthe, the youngest of all, sat on the floor under the solid oak table, blue eyes intense. Amelia, her golden hair in a braid, leaned against her older brother's leg, fisting her hands in his nightshirt. Both listened intently, straining to hear each softly spoken word.

Their mother slept restlessly down the hall, tossing and turning and muttering. She didn't know they were there, and they didn't want her to. It was two o'clock in the morning, dawn seemed as far off as nightfall had been, and the silence in the kitchen left them alone, separated from the rest of the world.

The last time it had been like this their father hadn't come home. Their mother had slept then too, though only after hours of nervous crying. Her six children had huddled secretly then, in the kitchen by the cold stove, half of them crouched under the table, listening to their sister tell stories. Red had been seventeen, not due to meet her husband for another two years, and she told the old stories that she had learned from their grandmother. Tales of wicked witches and evil kings. But they were a touch different, for the first time any of them could remember there were only happy endings. For the first time any of them could remember no one died. Even Luthe, then only fourteen months old, had hazy memories of a beautiful voice speaking quietly of giants and frogs and talking cats. He couldn't remember his father's face, but he remembered that night.

Larue was a much better story teller than his sister had been. His tales were more dynamic, more mysterious and magical. Everything was more elaborate, close calls became even closer, but one thing remained the same. In his stories no one, not even the evil king, died.

His sibling pressed closer, intent on happily ever after.

~~~~~~

Sora had been breaking off a bit of the roof when the candy window shattered, exploding outwards. He was half blinded by the flying sugar and fell backwards on to chocolate ground and plastic Easter grass.

After that everything happened too fast.

Avery shot upright from his place by the gumdrops and started for a fourth of a second before leaping to his feet and sprinting back towards the woods. He didn't waste time shouting or screaming or whining, he didn't look back, or hesitate with concerns for his friend.

And just like that Sora was alone.

Well, not alone exactly.

The dark wolf stood in the ruins of the colored window, the sharp sugary edges cutting into its feet. It was a mess of blood and fur, still reeking of fire. Its eyes were wide, milky white and staring, its mouth hung open, tongue hanging out, raw and swollen.

It attacked instantly, ignoring the fleeing Avery. All of its being, all that was left, was focused completely on Sora. There was no precision, no art, power or beauty, just a desperate bleeding lunge of teeth and paws and torn muscles.

Sora was half way to his feet and half way through a spell when its bulk hit him, knocking him back down.

Its teeth closed on his upper arm, sliding easily through cloth, flesh, muscle, bone that cracked apart, breaking into fragments and falling loose into the flesh, puncturing it like glass shards.

Sora's scream was devoured by white eyes and leering teeth and hot rank burning breath, a testament to the rot inside the creature's body, the cancer that powered its heartless corpse.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was never supposed to be like this.

The dark wolf howled between clenched teeth, its head shaking back and forth in a voluntary seizure, ripping away muscle, blood saturating its furless muzzle.

Sora struggled, stabbing upward with the keyblade, tears sharpening his vision. A dozen jabs with nothing to show for it except thick black blood and then somehow someway Sora got it in the neck, and the fur there parted, splitting open to show pulsing veins and it fell off him, rolling over, his flesh in its gaping mouth.

The creature that had been the dark wolf only yesterday shrieked with breathless laughter and circled, it moved like a drunk, occasionally missing a step, falling forward.

The dark wolf had never been kind, but it had never been mad either. It had been focused on killing and eating and moving on, but the burning insanity that filled it now wanted torture, it wanted to hear screams, smell terror and pain and desperation, see the heat in the other's body rise and pour from a million wounds. It wanted to eat its victims alive.

It had just enough intelligence left to aim for the spine, to break the fragile vertebra low so that its prey wouldn't flee... or die.

Sora was on his knees, each breath a heaving gasp, his uninjured arm was braced against the ground, holding him up. He was trembling, eyes glazing over with shock. His arm hung oddly but he didn't notice, didn't feel the pain, didn't feel fear, didn't really feel much of anything. He didn't even wonder why his life wasn't flashing before his eyes.

"Are you giving up already?"

~~~~~~

Kairi rolled over and woke up. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, yawning, it was still dark out but she was too thirsty to go back to sleep. She staggered out of bed and trudged down the hallway to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of orange juice, drinking it all and rinsing the glass before going back to bed.

Ten minutes later she was up again, blanket trailing behind her, stuffed alligator stuffed under one arm. She settled on the couch, turned on the TV and cuddled down into her blanket.

She spent the rest of the night watching 'I Love Lucy' reruns, not falling asleep again until the sky lightened into pink over the ocean.