I am soooo happy I've finally got this out for you guys. The lyrics are from Nikelback, and not mine. The next chapter I have been waiting FOREVER to write, since I first planned this story out by chapters,and if I ever planned on letting this story die (Which I won't, thank you very much!), it would be my proudest work. I can't wait to write it!

"There's clothes all over the floor
I don't remember them being there before"

Cooler night breezes whispered soothingly across his skin as they landed. This was to be a cooler, softer sort of desert night. It was a time to be with the one you love, and the dusk was a light, treasure blue, sparkling with the first pioneer stars, winking irrepressibly in the sky.

Aladdin hit the sand at a run, as he craned his neck to look up at his hovel window. Mozenrath. He didn't see him immediately, but perhaps he was simply out of sight, or had lain down to sleep. His stomach ruffled at the thought of Mozenrath asleep; he could picture it asleep. Somehow, with the sweet liberty of choice singing through his bones, knowing now whom he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, made it easier to be more at freedom with is feelings and attractions. And it was an understatement to admit he could see a sleeping Mozenrath in his mind, being privilege to the sight more than once.

Mozenrath slept weightlessly, laid out artfully in a manner that betrayed all natural laws. Long limbs and torso, arranged like a fallen angel, with a generous spill of silken, black curls winding across the white of a pillow. It was a surprising contrast how peaceful Mozenrath held his face while he would lay sleeping, lips un-pursed, softly but gently parted. Large, heavily lidded eyes would be delicately closed, long black eyelashes brushing gently pinked cheekbones, flushing modestly in sleep. His thin chest would rise and fall with the sparest of movements.

He was peaceful, vulnerable, and absolutely a distraction that never failed to enthrall Aladdin. He'd hate to wake him, but then again, there were some creative ways to get him up that Aladdin couldn't wait to try. Perhaps an 'I'm sorry'-wake-up kiss, feeling the jolt of surprise Mozenrath would give, those arms wrapped around him in coming appreciation. He swallowed hard, feeling a warmed interest in the very pit of himself.

He panted happily as he pounded up the stairs with an eagerness unparalleled. Of course, Mozenrath awake would be just as good. Naturally, he would most likely still be cross, and worse still, hurt because of Aladdin. Aladdin knew he had to face up to that, but somehow, he felt he could face a thousand irate Mozenrath's at this point, the feeling of ready to be given love made him feel invincible.

He was willing to work to make that a reality.

He could imagine the look on Mozenrath's face when he told him that the choice had been made, he would no longer be tottering between Mozenrath and Jasmine. Mozenrath was the one he had chosen, and he was sorry it had taken him so long to realize it.

"Hey Mozenrath!" he called as he reached the top, running through the doorway with a smile that lit the room.

A smile that quickly fell.

He looked around in confusion. Now, he knew his hovel had never been the nicest place, it was in shambles, and after the fire Mozenrath started, even after mending most of the damages, it was all and all shabby to look at. But this was a different mess. Clothes were strung everywhere, hanging from loose boards, a veritable swamp of them, carelessly thrown helter skelter, and they were not just Mozenrath's, but Aladdin's as well. Nothing was left to its own devices, Aladdin's personal chest dumped out, the case Mozenrath put his gauntlet in when not in use thrown against the wall, as if rejection of Aladdin's ever pressing concern that Mozenrath should leave it behind.

Glass, dirt, rubble and fragments covered the ground like an abandoned battle. Everything, it seemed, was subjected to ruin.

Normal thought procedures and reactions failed Aladdin. He faltered, calling for the one person who could explain this, who could make it all better.

"Mozenrath?" he called out with wavering uncertainty. His own echo answered him emptily, with a lonely dissatisfaction. He could search, he could examine every cranny for a trace and false hope, but he knew Mozenrath wasn't here, not in this shell of a home. He walked around numbly, feet shuffling in the mess, not bothering to dodge the remains of his scrapped together life. He touched things; let his finger slide across toppled over bed frames with weak apologies for not being there. He turned and faced back towards the doorway, once again taking in his broken half home.

What happened here?

"The smell of perfume isn't here
Why's there lipstick on the mirror?"

He sat down heavily on his bed. Well, in all rights, he had to assume that Mozenrath did this. Why would he? He just couldn't register it. Wouldn't Mozenrath be here? Where was he?

He was uncomfortable with how abandoned the place felt, how cold, with an encompassing gap, like a tear was ripped in the middle of the building, and it was voraciously sucking in everything, sense, sound and warmth. It was like, Mozenrath hadn't just left, but had ceased to let his presence be known in Aladdin's recent history at all, as if he tore himself from time and space and come Allah or high water there was nothing to be done to get him back. It all felt so...final. And then he knew Mozenrath hadn't planned on coming back, that something happened here that Aladdin couldn't control, wasn't here to intervene and therefore doomed himself to deal with the consequences not knowing what fueled them.

Perhaps, he thought with unconvincing optimism, Mozenrath hadn't left of his own will; maybe something else occurred. But as he thought of the idea that Mozenrath might have been attacked or taken or what have you, he knew he didn't believe it really, because his stomach didn't turn to stone and worry at the prospect. No, this work reeked of Mozenrath's doing.

He sighed unhappily, mind still working on the problem at hand as he flopped down angularly on his bed. He inhaled in the sheets, sad to find that key scent, signature and identifying, wasn't there. Mozenrath had slept here, but that scent, rich, spicy, of oils and male perfumes, and of something strangely delicate and unique to the sorcerer, was Mozenrath all over, and Aladdin could remember it from when their bodies were close enough to feel each other's body hum. Aladdin had gotten used to it, needed it in the entire experience of Mozenrath.


"Still I don't understand
No pictures left in the hall
There's three new holes in the wall
Where the hell's my credit cards?
Why's my wallet in the yard?
Still I don't understand"

" But why Mozenrath?" Aladdin spoke to himself. He knew they had fought, but Aladdin had forgiven Mozenrath, couldn't Mozenrath have easily down the same? Instantly, his inner morality smacked him upside the head disapprovingly...and hard. What did he have to forgive? With shame, he could look back on their argument and see some key things he had done in his anger.

Mozenrath was right to be suspicious of him, Aladdin was a dog as far as Aladdin himself was concerned, and a no good slut too for doing just what Mozenrath thought he would do. Mozenrath was right to feel betrayed and hurt.

Of course he knew why.

Now he knew the full extent of the damage he had done, of what emotional injuries he unfairly asked Mozenrath to bear. He thought back to their argument, before he left for the palace, how bad it had ended, and winced. What was he thinking? You don't just leave someone angry like that and not expect backlash. But was this destruction of his home by Mozenrath the signs of hurt or anger? He had a sneaking suspicion, as he gazed towards magic-enhanced holes in his wall, that it was a turbulent mixture of both.

He knew he had to find Mozenrath, but the question was, did he want to be found? Did Aladdin even want to find him, knowing that their freshly cultivating relationship always turned out like this, some big explosive fight? He sighed, he knew he'd need transportation, but wasn't comfortable with leaving Jasmine without Carpet, who had come in handy in a way walking or horse riding could not more than his fair share of times. But there was Genie who had gratefully stayed at the palace to ease Aladdin's mind, and that was something. And it wasn't like Aladdin had many other choices. He was poor; there was no getting around that. He was poor by birth, and because of his reputation as a thief, a reputation he only earned by doing what he could to survive, no decent citizen of Agrabah would hire him for any respectable job. He had some coins saved up, but as he had seen what his private box's fate was, he was sure they would be lying in the dirt under his window, or slipped between the cracks of the buildings flooring. So getting a carriage or renting a horse would have been out of the question.

He was almost grateful it never really had been practical to get a portrait of he and Mozenrath made. The entrepreneuring men who sketched those who paid the right price with their charcoal and easels set up in the marketplace a couple times a week, and made good money for it. Couples would sit together giggling and smiling on an erected bench, while the artist scribbled away. He and Jasmine had theirs made some time ago, and he remembered how proud he was when she placed it on her nightstand, he having no place to put it himself. But if one had been made of he and Mozenrath, if somehow there was no certainty that their alternative lifestyle would be exposed and open to scorn, he would have definitely kept it here.

But then what?

Mozenrath would have shredded it along with everything else, and the torn, visual leftovers of what their relationship could have been, should have been would have been too much for Aladdin to handle right now.

"Well now I guess I should've listened
When you said you'd had enough"

He felt so frustrated at himself when he thought back to how many clues Mozenrath gave to how he was feeling, how Aladdin discarded any warnings of pain from Mozenrath. It was all in their argument, every word from Mozenrath meant something, and Aladdin let his dumb pride get in the way of seeing that. He could hear the angry, floating words.

"...Maybe everyone should stop referring to me like I'm not here, like I'm so conveniently easy to get rid of pest you just happened to be shouldered with. Well I'm sorry... I've burdened you all so atrociously..."

What right had Aladdin and everyone else have to keep treating Mozenrath like an ordeal, like an object to be dealt with? After making that mistake with Jasmine in his Prince Ali disguise, he thought he would have learned. How did it make Mozenrath feel to be jostled around, to be ordered, moved, and tucked away like some dirty secret? Aladdin knew Mozenrath had to feel like Aladdin was ashamed of them, and in some way, Aladdin was still uncomfortable with the fact he was attracted to a man, and might always be. Sure, he had seen Mozenrath's pain before, and though he felt sympathy and compassion for the man, had never really factored it into the actions he took that involved the both of them.

He remembered back at the hovel, his own regrettable words.

"...Can't you rise above your jealousy of her...?"

Mozenrath had a fine damn reason to feel jealous! Aladdin was spending more time with Jasmine and was acting more open and outwardly affectionate with a girl he wasn't even supposed to be with anymore than he ever thought to be with Mozenrath. How could he not feel inadequate? Hiding him in his hovel, instructing him not to leave if he wasn't there. How...Aladdin let out a noise of disgust...horrible of him. He always thought of himself as a moderately good person, so why was he doing all of these emotional injuries to someone he loved now more than anyone else?

"...It's just not that easy to break off something like Jasmine and I have..."

Well yes, it didn't end up being easy, but to think of all the people who suffered while he played deliberation with people's lives! He was supposed to be strong, and when it mattered the most, he faltered, when others could easily rise to the occasion.

"A little trick that I picked up from my father
In one ear and out the other
Why must life be so tough?"

Mozenrath had knew, had fucking knew Aladdin was going to fail him yet again and sleep with Jasmine. And he did! He did just what he fucking scoffed at doing, even scorned Mozenrath at the very idea. Mozenrath had him pinned when he called him a slime ball, he knew that know with heavy self-disgust. Mozenrath knew him all too well, and to what extent, Aladdin was just finding out to his surprise. How could he read him like that?

Aladdin could have slammed his head into a wall.

And he had to go ruin it! He was just about as useful in a relationship as his father was to his mother in her living days, as he was as a father even. The men in Aladdin's family just ended up hurting the ones they love.

So thanks Dad, Aladdin thought bitterly as he slid to the ground with his hands on his knees, I've fumbled around and made the wrong decisions and know I'm loosing the man I love most in this world.

Augh! Why was this so hard!

"Should see the look on my face
My s's all over the place
Why's this happening to me?
Why'd you take both sets of keys?
And still I don't understand"

He had to find Mozenrath; he just had to have one more opportunity to make it better. He couldn't give up; he just couldn't, not when his heart was on the line.

The problem was, where to find Mozenrath?

Where would he have gone, angry and upset and never wanting to see Aladdin again? His citadel was the first thing to pop into Aladdin's mind. With a whistle, and a short wait, Carpet flew beneath him and they were hurtling towards the Land of Black Sands.

The trip itself was torture to Aladdin. Each minute felt like an hour, and every breath he took felt strained and baiting on that hope...

He landed right outside the door, yet again, at a run, and leaving a saluting Carpet to the job of taking care of moaning mamluck guards, broke through the doors and skidded into the hallway, calling Mozenrath's name. He got no answer, except once again, his own echo, until he heard a faint whimper/groan, and the weak flop of something wet.

Some searching around, and he found, next to the right arm of Mozenrath's throne, Xerxes, lying prone and writhing on the ground, looking up at Aladdin with miserable, wet gray eyes and not trying to move. Aladdin knelt by it, and casting his dislike of the thing aside, examined it for signs of injury. There was none, but Aladdin recoiled in horror when he realized that Xerxes' visual self, his outline, was fading away, the floor beneath the eel become clear.

"What's happening to you? What's going on?"

"Master not need me anymore..." Xerxes croaked and with a shudder, faded away into a film of light, then nothing, just bare floor. Aladdin stood, eyes wide, and ran a hand through his hair. What in the hell just happened? This was way too...odd.

Then it hit him, a voice from a memory, not his own memory, but Mozenrath's, one that he himself witnessed. It was Mirage's voice, and she was addressing her son about the destruction of Morbia, about what Xerxes was.

"...It's the barrier that kept you from releasing your true potential
Mozenrath, at least, in a figurative, but when your power broke free, it was
forced to become manifest in a physical sense. Its you Mozenrath, at least
in a sense..."

Of course! Xerxes was a physical form of the person Mozenrath used to be, and Mozenrath wasn't that person anymore. Mozenrath wasn't the person of rage at Destane, and grief of Ahhmal he was that gave way to Xerxes creation. He was angry, and hurt, but just now at Aladdin, he thought guiltily.

With one look of recognition, almost respect, at where Xerxes had lain, he turned out the door.

"Well now I guess I should've listened
When you said you'd had enough
A little trick that I picked up from my father
In one ear and out the other
Why must life be so tough?"

As he expected, Carpet had made short work of the zombies and was waiting with bubbling curiosity at the door, the victims of his abilities laying in pieces, still groaning eerily. Aladdin should have been surprised, but found he expected what happened next, the shimmering fade away of the mamlucks bodies. They were incarnations of Mozenrath's past as well, and the spell was broken.

Carpet flew him into the sky once more, but hovered, as no direction had been selected yet. Where would he go if not his Citadel? Where?

Of course!

Morbia!

He had to be there, he just had to be. Mozenrath was the sort of person who unconsciously needed to pick emotional scars, and with nowhere else to go...

"But just where is Morbia? It can't be the one Mirage lives in, can it?"

Carpet arched his 'head' towards Aladdin and gave him an encouraging tassel up, and shot off without another gesture in a faintly northwesterly direction. Aladdin laughed.

"Alright Carpet! You know where we're going!"

But he didn't feel as confident as he sounded. The same doubts played over and over again in his mind like a worrisome mantra, and he sent silent, fervent thoughts to Mozenrath as they flew of with the horizon in his eyes.

Please Mozenrath, be there.