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Darkness. That was all that surrounded him, and nothing but a bittersweet silence accompanied him. For hours, that had seemed like an eternity, his world had been anguished and empty. Axl's body may have been unresponsive in the real world, but it was free to roam about in this imaginary state. Although, the dreaming mindset of a tormented Reploid is a strange and inexplicable system, and it has a way with further emotionally damaging those in already in anguish.

From his current perspective, the world was enveloped in frigid shadows. Anyone could quickly become lost in the endless space, either physically or mentally. Life is meant to be shared with another; it could almost be considered abnormal or unhealthy to face the world alone, like he had been doing for what appeared to be forever.

But on the same note, Axl realized that this was simply 'another day on his own.' How was it different from all the other wasted days? If anybody else had been with the young Reploid, trapped in this dreamy state, maybe he would have felt less apprehensive and uncomfortable.

Just as the youth had begun to adjust to his settings, the sound of footsteps reverberated through the vast emptiness. Axl was unable to determine exactly how this was possible, seeing as though there were no visible walls or barriers. However, he also realized that he was at the mercy of this nightmare, and if it was going to bend normal logics, then there was nothing the child could do to change it.

Within a second's time, a distorted figure had appeared in front of him, and an atmosphere of bitterness had followed. The form resembled a demon, with a lust for the blood of an innocent; he wore an expression that could intimidate even the most experienced warrior, who might have spent years in the heat of battle. This manifestation obviously thought of himself as a Reploid upholding superiority, and he was going to let the frightened child know it.

"Oh, my dear child," hissed the translucent form, his tone dripping with malignity. "Why do you still cry over such trivial matters?"

Axl's head sharply snapped upward, and he administered the figure a seemingly venomous glare. Even with this anger that had ignited within him, the greater, and more abundant, feeling of sadness swept him away. Silvery tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill; to prove him as a weak, inferior being. The small teardrops rebelled against him, and they slid down his synthetic flesh. Despite his constant efforts, Axl was incapable of keeping them locked within; again, he was a true image of weakness.

"I'm not crying!" Axl screamed, while brushing away some of the glistening droplets. However, more quickly replaced them. "I'm not...crying..And I..I'm no 'dear child' of yours...You don't even care about me anymore, Red. Not like you used to.."

"Does this really surprise you?" muttered the dream version of Red, with a quick roll of his eyes. "I gave you a home, which was all just fine, for a while. But, you failed to repay me for this unecessary kindness. You didn't pay the price of the love you were given."

Axl flinched at the final statement, as if it was physically painful to hear. A look of shock, resentment, and distress crossed his countenance; this clashed with the determined tone that accompanied his voice, but it also reflected upon the confusion the young boy felt.

"Since when could you put a price on love?"

The manifestation of Red shot Axl a vulgar glare. "You are such a foolish child. I believe everyone else would agree," he said, deliberately avoiding Axl's question. "It must hurt to know if you had only given me what I needed, you may have been able to save so many precious lives."

Just as Red had done, Axl was now evading the answers he was expected to give to Red. "You're not even listening to me!"

The larger figure crossed his arms in an arrogant fashion, while a smirk formed upon his features to match it. From the way Red was quivering, it appeared as though he were desperately trying to stifle his laughter; and, after this feigned effort, it had finally escaped his vocal systems.

"Of course I'm not going to listen to you. Would anybody else listen to a bloodthirsty killer? For, that is what you are. Just a shameless killer."

The young Reploid backed away, stunned by the statement; he could not believe what he was hearing. Never once in his life, had he willingly wounded or killed anyone, without valid reasons. Or, at least, for reasons he believed to be good ones. Was the pride of an irrational parent reason enough for what he had done? Before he knew it, he discovered the truth within Red's cruel words; he had slaughtered civilians and soldiers alike, without a second thought - and it had not even bothered him, until now.

"You don't know what you're talking about! You're the shameless one! And I.." Axl trailed off from there, fighting with his own conflicting emotions. Even though he was used to taking emotional abuse as from others, there was only so much of this he could contain. Once he managed to regain the strength to speak again, the tone he used was not insecure, fearful, or loving, as it usually was; it possessed a deadly edge.

"I hate you, Red."

Red remained completely still, all except for his eyes; the pair of normally colorless optics now resembled the most powerful, and malevolent, flames. The embers within them danced about the area of milky white pigmentation, almost as if they were laughing at the young runaway. Soon, however, even Red lost control of the roaring blaze, and brilliant flares of scarlet encompassed the dark perimeter. The illogic and horrifying fantasy of the nightmare had begun to take control.

The flames licked at Axl's body, and now proceeded searing through his dark armor. It took no longer than a few seconds, for the intense fire to expose an abundance of his vital system circuitry; the entire area that had once been his chest, was now no more than an unrecognizable disarray of melted cybernetic components and blood tainted wiring.

And all Red could do, was extend his left index finger, and laugh uncontrollably at Axl's misfortune.

"..No more.." Axl whispered, trembling wildly amidst the bedsheets. His optical systems fluttered for a moment, as his vision was blurred and unfocused; but, as of right now, that was the only affliction that he could feel for himself. Although, the other wounds still existed, they no longer throbbed or pulsated heavy amounts of vital liquid.

When his functional eye finally adjusted to the brilliance of the light, the first thing he noticed was the slightly dried scarlet stain on his small pillow. Blood had soaked into the silky white fabric; because of his tossing and turning, he had disrupted the wounds on his eye, and caused them to bleed. It was no longer at a life threatening level, however, and the sight of his own bodily fluid no longer surprised him. It was just as natural as waking up in the morning.

The young one turned from the tainted pillowcase, and gradually, began to cease shaking in fear. He was quick to give up this attempt, however, as soon as he caught a glimpse of another Reploid; namely, Zero. The crimson hunter was previously reading a tattered, aging, and extremely dusty, lavendar book. He had turned to face Axl once the child had awakened from the comatose-like state; he had even given the younger a gentle smile, as if to comfort him.

"G'morning, sunshine," Zero uttered, trying to alleviate the tension Axl felt at the moment. "I was starting to believe you were just going to sleep forever. Anyways, with that aside, how do you feel?"

"Like smashing someone's face in," Axl replied shortly, positioning himself upright. He was clearly much more willing to admit to the anger he held within, than he was to confess his sadness or fright.

"Axl, that isn't what I meant. Here, allow me to rephrase: How is your physical condition?"

The teenage Reploid was stunned, once Zero's words had finally processed; it reawakened a notion that had been forgotten to the youth. After an extended pause, he finally recovered the strength to speak again. And, this time, there was no tinge of confusion or regret in his voice; something that had accompanied him for a long time.

"Wait," Axl started softly, "You mean...You actually care? About me?"

It took all of Zero's might, emotional and physical, not to jump backward at those words. Sometimes, even he believed himself to be lost and alone, if he was faced with hardships he thought he could never overcome. But, to actually be so dispirited, and to be pushed so far as to come out and say it; that was truly despairing.

"Axl, did I ever give off any impressions that would prove otherwise?" stated Zero, while watching the younger rise from the bed. "I've never felt any dislike or bitterness towards you. That isn't going to change."

Standing up felt unusual to Axl, since he had not consciously moved much since the incident. He staggered for a while, and often came close to falling miserably; however, he would eventually re-adapt to standing and walking normally. Despite this knowledge, he had other matters plaguing his mind - the dream he had experienced, for example. And, with the recollection of the nightmare, came a sudden realization and a nagging, decisive question. A question he could not hold back.

"Then, would you hate me if I asked you a serious question?" the youth inqueried, lowering his gaze to the floor. Zero released an elaborate sigh, and gave an expression of mock-disappointment. Had they not had this conversation before?

"You know, I think you've been asleep much too long. Didn't I just say I've never, nor will I ever, feel like that? You never have to worry about that from me, got it? So, go ahead. Ask away."

Axl's lugubrious response made Zero desperately wish he had not finished that last sentence; it was the kind of response that retained enough potential to break anyone's heart in an instant. And, obviously, it had done just that.

"What's the cost of your love?"

-

This story is not shounen-ai or yaoi. The last statement doesn't mean that kind of love. Just making sure that's clear.

I think I'll make it a routine to respond to reviews. It's a little strange that I choose to start doing this when the story fourteen chapters old. Khilai does many stupid things. Ah, whatever, it doesn't matter. Onward!

PRIVATE: I actually did include something about Axl resembling an infant; it was meant to clash with what Rovin said. I'm sorry about your computer, too. Before I joined this site, I had to restore my computer for the same reason. Viruses are so evil! But, I don't think Lyza has the brain-power to damage your computer. She's just too stupid.

Rue-07: So'kay, Axl will get a little more love soon. Rovin's not nearly as bad as Red is; I'm just setting him up for future reference and conflicts. But, feel free to burn him as much as you want anyway! Maybe I should put a warning label on this story, 'Do not read if you do not have a destructive force or weapon nearby. Side effects of this story include a significant decrease in the number of matches in your possession, and the addition of a burning ritual in your daily routine.'

Lady Axlia(Formerly known as Lady Pamie): Go ahead, kill Red as many times as you want! Didn't you hear? It's the all-new trend! It's also proven to be good for your health. So, kill a Red near you!

Prjct. WAR: Rovin is a rude jerk, isn't he? I hate him just as much as everyone else does. Although...I have the power to make his life miserable. I can make him get up and dance in a pink mini-skirt. Not that I would.. And, Lyza can go jump off a building. Must suck to be her. And, Red too. Everyone seems to love to kill them in many interesting ways.

LadyHammer: Wow, I'm happy I played a part in making you like Axl a little more. Makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something! The biggest downside to this story is, it's pretty much guaranteed to make you hate Red's metallic guts. That is, if you don't already. Thanks for reading this!