The lyrics are from the Goo Goo Doll's song, "Name". I do not own their…whatnots.

And even though the moment passed me by
I still can't turn away

Aladdin rubbed halfheartedly at his hair with the towel laid out for him by the palace servants. Hot water was a perk of palace life. The toweling process itself was fuzzy and warm, but his hair resisted any effort of betterment and just flopped around his face. Giving up, he tossed it on the bed situated majestically in the middle of the suite Jasmine had insisted she stay in. Their clothes were now folded neatly, a satin purple outfit and his customary pants and vest. Aladdin knew that Jasmine had done that, while he was in the shower, feeling fully sated after their Spartan like romp. And now she was happy, humming as she brushed her hair back from its bed tousled mess, securing high in a bejeweled band.

Aladdin braced his elbows against the balcony railing and sighed. The weather was back to normal, hot and balmy, and the city bustled below happily in a vast expanse of gold, sand, white mortar and more sand, plus hundreds of swarming bodies. These were the normal people, where every aspiration was bred. He was born down there and somehow is here now, staring down with a dizzyingly new perspective at the city below.

He had wanted this right? All this fighting, all this clawing past obstacles was for this moment? You couldn't get any higher, the romancer of one of the most famed beautiful princesses in the seven desserts, sure inheritance to a kingdom, beloved as a city idol, an accomplished hero and appreciated friend. So why did it feel like there was something else? Why does this all feel so anti-climatic? He let his eyes glide to the horizon, past the high white walls, so gracefully trapping the city with in itself, to where the sands rolled on un- interrupted.

Is it beyond there?

Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose
Got tossed along the way

He felt lithe arms slip around his waist from behind; someone's body nuzzle up to his.

"Hey Jasmine." He sighed, feeling her beauty oppress and soothe him.

"What are you doing all by yourself out here?" she quested.

She was startled as he suddenly turned, a wild need for an answer in his eyes as he questioned down at her,

"Are you happy?"

She laughed. "Well of course."

"Why?" he pursued. " There's nothing else you need, nothing else you want?"

" Well no, " she said with a shrug, sidling up to him, " I have you."

She spread her fingers. He shivered, frantically pressing her hands to his lips.

" Jasmine, I love you."

Her eyes softened, and a slow smile spread on her lips, daintily painted with gloss, and stretched on tip toes to kiss him lightly on his lips. " I love you too." He sighed as he rested his chin in her hair, eyes still working with thought.

And letters that you never meant to send
Get lost or thrown away

Aladdin trailed his fingers across the rapidly cooling brick of the outer skirt housing projects, ramshackle houses, perilous with loose mortar and cocked support beams. But they were cheaper than the houses further into the city, and so low income families, couples and singles lodged here, doing the best they could with what they had, knowing one day they could afford a pure white house of stone, to wash and to covet on hot sunny days.

His feet took him on a well-worn path to his own building, ducking in the partly covered door and starting the climb to the top that lead to his hovel, ducking webs of disuse. It wasn't really his building. He was allowed to live in, everyone agreed on that, but he's never really owned a home of his own.

One day, he promised himself, Jasmine and I will fill a home of our own with children and support, and thrive on our own.

He hadn't visited his old hideaway in a while, Jasmine requesting his presence at the palace for many months now, but it was still oh so his, in a way ownership couldn't define. Mismatched, scrabbled together pillows strewn the area near his "bed", or ledge near the opening that gaped on a hole in the building, covered valiantly by a tattered curtain to offer some privacy. The spare blanket was tossed, left there by the rush to adventure or love, was draped across the smoothed over stone slab that served as a resting place.

Memories seeped every corner of this room. He sunk next to his bed and let his eyes wander to the door, where if the light fell through the right way, one could see a boy running up those stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him, throwing terrified glances behind him, exerting all the strength of a nine year old to block the door way with a piece of lumber, panting as he hid from the local boys who found an undeveloped, noble orphan with ideals easy prey.

If you looked slightly to the left, and let the hush fall over you, you could hear the grunts of a young man, a fourteen, perhaps fifteen-year-old young man, healing his own wounds of the chase, trying to steal him a meal. You would see his shaking hands as he ripped away his pant leg to expose a bloody gash in the flesh, marred by a broken off spear tip.

Agrabah didn't take to thieves kindly.

You would see droplets of sweat hit the floor, his muscles tense, muscles gained by a life that demanded them, and his own hand muffle his scream as he yanked the weapon from his leg.


And now we're grown up orphans
That never knew their names

We both grew up orphans, Aladdin mused on him and Mozenrath. Sure, Mozenrath had a biological mother, one who had to love him in some deep down parenting gene, but she was a general, making his life hers in her quest for her family's triumph.

Doesn't she even come to see her son?

Aladdin let his thoughts wander to the sorcerer and his plight, to how his secrecy, his hermit hole was torn from him by none other than his own hands.

How Mozenrath seemed to smile more.

I never knew my purpose, but what kept me going was the knowledge that I wanted to live, mother would have wanted me to live; I was too stubborn to let life kill me. You were kept going by a constant pursuit of betterment. You wanted to live a life with the one you loved, as I do now, you wanted to break away from that which caused you pain, your mother and her expectations, your own frustration of feeling not good enough. Its something we all want, so why were you punished?

We don't belong to no one
that's a shame

I've waited all my life for someone to…have me. For someone to be a base for me, and now, I can think of nothing but roaming.

You feel the same way, no? You belonged to Ahhmal at one point, and now, whom do you belong to?

But if you could hide beside me
Maybe for a while
And I won't tell no one your name

Nobody.

You don't even have an option.

The sun sank on the floorboards before him, but it passed, glittering and blood red, unnoticed. His mind was working on a scheme, a plan. Perhaps Mozenrath could stay here, in Agrabah, and not in some malignant tomb, a sad excuse for a home, if he would consent.

But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't just be for Mozenrath's benefit. This was a relationship he wouldn't mind putting work into, that needed work put into it.

But he wasn't naïve, he knew even if Mozenrath consented to coming to Agrabah on a semi-permanent stay, who would accept their visitor of sorts? Not the city's citizens, of course, when they can recall quite clearly his villainous antics.

And I won't tell em your name

But really, the city had to be in the way for Mozenrath to exert any effort towards its harm, in the way when it came to getting to Aladdin. Aladdin shuddered, recalling the burning, black hate he had seen in Mozenrath's eyes as they locked eyes during their confrontations of the past.

Was that real?

A fleeting, cold doubt shot through his mind.

What if this friend act was nothing more than a ploy?

His heart stopped, knowing that as much as he out ranked Mozenrath in psychical capabilities, Mozenrath was far more of a threat in the determination for blood. If not only out of respect, Mozenrath was the only opponent he ever feared. He could not lie, having some one a level he thought he was alone in was a thrill, his blood sang when they fought, exciting his desire for obstacle as the two battled for dominance.

But he let his mind accept the newer form of Mozenrath, someone who gave hesitant smiles, and engaged in gentle ribbing, someone deeper than the typical two-dimensional villain.

No, Mozenrath would not betray him like that.

In his minds eyes, he still saw the sorcerer's cross necklace swinging with each step.

Scars are souvenirs you never lose
The past is never far

But while Mozenrath's malicious leanings are behind him, Aladdin resigned with a sigh, there are some parts of his past that will never go away.

Ahhmal's betrayal, the blood on the sorcerer's hand, Mirage's failure as a mother, the world's shunning, they all stew in Mozenrath's memories day after day, even if Aladdin stopped being an audience to that. Those are scars that have left their mark on the son of the cat incarnate. They embedded themselves on his wrists in self inflicted cuts. His past will never relinquish its hold, its destructive hold, on Mozenrath as long as he still remembers. It will always have control over Mozenrath, the sorcerer too stubborn to see that.

Is there a way to let go?

Would Mozenrath except new memories to make, to replace the ones that could only affect the sorcerer adversely.

Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?
Did you get to be a star?
And don't it make you sad to know that life
Is more than who we are?

Aladdin rose, feeling the stiffness in his legs as he pushed himself up. How long had he sat there, thinking about another?

He turned to go, but the play of light on the wall made him turn to the gap looking down at the city. Tenderly, he set them aside, dust kicking up, and saw that it was indeed coming to sundown. Rich hues of red, dusty orange-gold melted across the sands toward the palace.

Aladdin leaned on his arms, like what seemed so long ago, and considered,

Did Mozenrath even fight it? Soon the lust for power, the need to fill the void of inability and self-scorn inside him, consumed every move he made.

What would that have done for you, Mozenrath? Would being the ruler of the seven deserts, would controlling the powers of Genie, have made you happy?

When are you going to understand, and is it too late to…

Life is more than titles; they die with the body. Its what we do, its what we accomplish that leaves our mark on the world.

Maybe you would have been better off knowing this.

He headed out the door with a fond second glance.

You grew up way too fast
And now there's nothing to believe
And reruns all become our history

He let his fingers trace the grooves in the walls of building after building, filled with retiring families, as he made his way back to the palace, his pace unhurried.

In a way, we are both tainted, never allowed to live up to our potential as our childhood was ripped from our aspirations. A prince is no way to grow up,

He looked up at the palace

And neither is a princess.

A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio

This play will continue its sick cycle until we die, Aladdin mused as he let himself in, if we don't do something to change it. If something drastic isn't done.

His steps grew purpose.

We can't let it be this way, we have to fight our natural instincts and accept people can change, that people are more than meets the eye.

Jasmine's shoes clicked as she rushed to greet him, suspicion cleverly hid behind a smooth façade of big brown eyes and innocence. She embraced him in the empty entrance way.

"Aladdin, where were you?"

"Where is everyone?" he cut in, looking around for the old gang.

" Oh, you mean Genie, Iago and Abu? I thought you knew Iago went to visit Thundra. Isn't that sweet?"

Aladdin nodded obediently.

" Genie and Abu went to bring him home. They'll be back tomorrow I believe."

Aladdin's eyes flashed,

"Jasmine, I need to talk to you?" he said in a whisper, leaning down to keep it between them. Immediately, her alarms were up.

"Aladdin, what's the matter?"

He didn't answer; instead he dragged her along, her protesting and questioning, into a secluded, off sitting room, and sat her down, pacing in front of her.

" Jasmine, I've been thinking, What if we brought Mozenrath into the city for awhile?"

He asked, leaning down on his haunches to face her in the eye.

And I won't tell no one your name
And I won't tell em your name

She was taken aback, naturally. "Aladdin, whatever for?"

" Well, it just seems to me he could change if around us for awhile, he could be influenced, you know? Isn't that better than waiting here for some…attack?"

He was lying through his teeth, and he knew it, but Jasmine couldn't deny the logic, and that was all that mattered. She still, however, was not satisfied.

" I guess, but Aladdin, what has gotten into you? Ever since you two have been…spending time with each other, you've been acting weird…dodgy. What's going on between you two that I don't know about?"

Aladdin looked to her, exasperated, seeing the firm line set in her lips, and felt very much like a child being admonished. He knew he shouldn't have brought anyone else into this. They wouldn't understand. He smiled resignedly, assuaging her fears in an instant.

" You're right Jasmine. It was a stupid idea. Come on, lets go find something to eat, I'm famished."

She smiled fondly at him, him and his proffered arm, and took it as he escorted her back into security.

Later, after her pretty head was safely tucked into the embrace of her pillow, Aladdin would slip off, calling on Carpet seated cat like and waiting for him at the foot of the bed, to go on one last flight to the Land of The Black Sands.

He's kept things from her before, right?

I think about you all the time
But I don't need the same

So maybe, Aladdin admitted, Mozenrath hasn't spent this much effort or thought on me since they'd last encountered, but he was still convinced his presence wouldn't be rejected, if not appreciated. After all,

It's lonely where you are come back down
And I won't tell em your name

Its got to be lonely all by yourself.