The Fragile

Something in him wanted to cry out desperately, wanted to reach out to whatever tangible thing was left in the universe, wanted to pull himself from the depths of this blackness. He imagined that if there had been anyone around to observe his physical state, he would be noted first for the expression of utter loss etched into his features. Then would follow the helplessness of his tattered body--limbs akimbo--stretched out on cold, hard concrete.

His eyes were open. They were piercingly green and they stared at the angry sky above them, but saw nothing. He was only vaguely aware of his surroundings--that same concrete beneath him, a light breeze stirring his red hair. There was no distinguishing smell or feel to the place, but he knew where he was. He knew he was Nobody lying in the streets of a World That Never Was.

He willed himself to laugh at the irony, for his lips to curl into a smirk, but nothing happened. Willpower alone couldn't move him. He felt frozen and his mind seemed to be the only thing working anymore.

Perhaps there was no body, no street, no breeze. Perhaps it was only the memory. That would explain a lot. But if he could feel it, why couldn't he see it?

"You're broken."

He wanted to look around, willed himself to see the face that accompanied that familiar voice.

"That's why you're here. You're broken and need to be repaired. Otherwise, you'll be this pitiful thing forever."

He wanted to call out, to touch the face he knew was there, to see the blue eyes. He knew the expression would be the same; placid, detached and unfeeling. But those blue eyes revealed the inner turmoil and frustration that was in them all.

"It's your memory," the voice continued. "If you can remember how, you can see all of these things that you're feeling. Remember how to speak?"

"Am I dead?" He was startled by the sound of his own voice, and was certain that his mouth never moved.

"Dead? You never existed."

The words stung, but he knew them to be true. Finally, he felt the muscles pull at the corners of his mouth. A grin.

"Roxas," he said, and met the blue eyes that always seemed to penetrate his soul. That same boyish face, blonde hair, pale skin and small frame. He remembered Roxas. He saw Roxas. "What happened?"

"You've spent your energy. You're back to nothing."

"Ouch."

The boy tilted his head. "Can you remember anything else? Can you remember yourself?"

He wanted to laugh aloud at that. Remember himself? How ridiculous. How could he forget himself after all of the times he remembered that look Roxas would get around him? He knew that Roxas was the only one who made him feel alive, made him feelreal and more than a heartless shell, more than a Nobody.

"Yeah. I think I got it."

Roxas blinked. "Tell me who you are. Tell me what happened."

He scanned Roxas' impassive face for a moment, unsure. What happened? Whathad happened? "Name's Axel. Number VIII of Organization XIII. I…" He paused, fingers working at the dead space around them, if only to move, to feel for the chakrams that weren't there but felt familiar enough. "I fought and…" He looked around him, surprised to find himself sitting in the middle of a street in Dark City, Roxas before him some feet away. "Ishould be dead."

"How can you be dead? You were never alive."

Axel struggled somewhat to get to his feet, then made work of dusting his long coat. "But after what happened, I should have died."

"Whathappened?"

Axel hesitated, snapped his jaw shut, fidgeted. "Me and Sora. We fought those Nobodies in Betwixt and Between. I had kidnapped Kairi and he was going to save her." That sounded right. Why had that been so hard.

Roxas nodded. That was the right answer. "And now what?"

"Now… Now I don't know."

"What was it you said to me about a 'next life'? That you didn't have one?" The subtlest of humor, so dry Axel could taste the chalk in his mouth just hearing the words.

But Axel laughed. "We're Nobodies; we're nothing, right?" He didn't wait for a response. "We were never alive and we can never die." Here he stopped again and looked Roxas straight in the eye. "We cannot feel."

Roxas averted his gaze and his expression went sour. "No. But wecan remember."

Axel surveyed the city around him for a while and turned his attention back to Roxas when he felt the boy's gaze on him again. Roxas put on a weak smile and then turned to walk away, motioning for Axel to follow.

Axel sighed and obliged, but not before responding; "Then maybe that's all we need."