Chapter Six:

Demyx's Return

Raxet walked slowly through the halls of Castle Oblivion, contemplating Naminé's words. There was so much she didn't understand, so many more questions she wanted to ask. But Naminé had dismissed her after showing her the picture, telling Raxet that she had no more to say—her knowledge had all been drained. Unfortunate timing.

Raxet rubbed her sore hand, her boots scuffing quietly as she dragged her feet. She didn't feel like climbing the separate staircase that led to her room—her tiny, colorless room—so she sank into a corner in the main room of the castle, the room where all the stairs connected. She leaned her head against the wall and sighed deeply.

Raxet was fairly preoccupied with her self-pity, but not quite so absorbed that when a darkness door opened in the middle of the room, and Demyx fell through, bloody and blurred around the edges, she didn't notice. She leapt quickly to her feet and sprinted over to him. She caught him before he hit the ground, his blood quickly dampening her dark uniform.

"Demyx!" She gasped, supporting almost his entire weight. She knelt quickly, lowering his head to her lap. "What happened?" she wiped blood off his face with her sleeve.

"Raxet?" Demyx squinted, trying to focus his gaze. "Where am I?"

"Castle Oblivion. Demyx, what happened?"

Demyx laughed, then winced, the action causing him pain. His left hand covered a wound in his chest, grasping it, trying to keep the liquid life from oozing away between his fingers. His other hand clutched his sitar, refusing to relinquish it, even when Raxet tried to pry it away.

"The…Keyblade bearer…he's strong."

"Demyx…Sora? Is that who hurt you? Sora?"

"Yeah…I'm alright…just…weak." He laughed again, blood flecking his lips. Raxet looked around helplessly. She couldn't carry him herself, and there was no-one around to help her.

"I've got to get you help…" She whispered, brushing stray hairs out of his face. He was burning with fever, and the touch of his skin scorched her icy flesh. She hissed quietly but didn't complain.

"I'm…fine. I'm not Fading…"

"Of course…" She slid her arms underneath his, standing slowly, dragging him up with her. "Can you walk? Lean on me…"

He tried to put his feet underneath him and stumbled. She caught him again, sliding under his arm.

"Thanks…" He coughed.

"It's fine." She grunted, staggering slightly under his weight.

"Raz? What're—" Axel rounded the corner after climbing up a set of stairs. Raxet swore under her breath, Demyx turning to look at her curiously. Why did it have to be Axel, she wondered. And why did it matter that it was Axel? Why did that guy piss her off so much? He made her chest hurt, more even than Xemnas did.

"Damnit, woman!" Axel dropped the papers he was carrying. They scattered, but he didn't gather them back. He rushed forward instead, jerking Demyx's sitar away forcefully and positioning himself under Demyx's other arm.

"Shit, Raz! What'd he do to you that you beat him up so bad!"

"Rah. Zay." She told him forcefully, gritting her teeth. "Nothing. I mean. Damn you! I didn't do it! Sora did!"

"Sora? You let that kid get to you, Demmy?" Axel glanced at Demyx, who had closed his eyes and was breathing raggedly.

"I think he's…gotten better…since…" He didn't finish his sentence. Axel had stumbled, jogging Demyx and causing him to choke.

"Ow…" Demyx protested weakly.

"Sorry, man," Axel nudged Raxet forward, and they began to drag their companion to the staircase.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Raxet asked as they closed the door to Demyx's room a little while later.

"Probably. He looked pretty stable." Axel examined the ceiling, his arms crossed and his posture tense. What had she done to make him angry? Or was he upset about his friend?

"Hey!" They both turned, reaching for the doorknob. Raxet smacked Axel's hand away and opened it, leaning her head in, Axel pushing her aside and doing the same.

"What!" They asked, almost in unison to Demyx's shout.

"I…er….I just wanted my sitar…" He muttered, surprised at their vehement response.

"I'll get it!" Axel and Raxet glared at each other.

"Stop that, bitch!"

"You stop, you useless bastard!" They ducked out of the door, snapping at each other. Demyx made a face.

"Oops," He muttered.

"I got it!" Raxet had slid down the banister, scooping at Demyx's sitar as she hit the floor.

"Damnit!" Axel tripped over the bottom stair and fell on his face, grinding his nose into the tiles.

"I'll take it up to him—" Axel stuck his foot out to catch Raxet as she started to run back up the stairs. She fell, hitting the stairs squarely.

"You bastard!" she muttered, wiping blood off her chin. "That actually hurt."

"It was meant to, Razzy-poo," Axel jerked at the sitar, but she wouldn't let go.

"He asked me to get it—" she protested, holding the bridge with both hands.

"If you go in there the poor guy'll die of hormone rush."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She kicked him, pulling the sitar with her, out of his hands.

"It means you turn him on, bitch!" Axel yelled, dodging her foot and kicking at her face. She swerved, avoiding his boot, which threw him off balance. He caught himself on the banister, unable to stop his foot, which threw out, catching a pedestal and knocking it over.

"Shit!" Axel swore, staring at it. Raxet also stared. Axel recovered first, and jerked the sitar away. "Look what you did, idiot!" He yelled behind him as he sprinted up the stairs.

"Bastard!" She yelled after him, starting to follow, then stopping and staring at the smashed pedestal. "Damnit."

"You're gonna pay," She muttered, glaring at his back as he faded into the darkness of the closed staircase. She waved a hand at the broken marble, and it floated back into place, a thin sheen of ice holding it together from the outside.

"You know, Xemnas won't care," Raxet jumped.

"Luxord!" She protested.

"Sorry. Just thought I'd tell you that Xemnas wouldn't give a rat's ass about that pedestal."

"You tell me this after I fix it?" She grumbled.

"Sorry." He shrugged again. "Here," He tossed her a white handkerchief. A small club wasembroidered inone corner."Wipe your face—you're bleeding."

"Thanks," she muttered, dabbing at her lip, "What're you doing, sneaking around the castle?"

"Taking bets," Luxord grinned. "You want in?"

"What're we betting on?"

"Lots of things—but mostly how many Heartless Sora will kill before he gets here. Or, you could bet on how long it'll take him, or how many times King Mickey will have to save his sorry ass, or—" Raxet held up a hand, stopping him.

"Not interested, Luxord,"

"Oh, come on! I know you could use the munny!"

"I'd rather keep my investments to myself than gamble—especially on that rotten Keyblade bearer."

"Suite yourself," Luxord shrugged, shuffling a deck of cards distractedly.

"You're as bad as the rest of them," Raxet groaned disparagingly, "I think I'll leave now." She turned, began to walk away.

"Hey." She stopped, halfway across the room already, heading to the staircase that would lead her to her room.

"What?" She didn't turn around.

"If you want to know how to use a darkness door—or learn to fight like a real Organization member—ask Axel."

"I'm not asking him for anything!" she bristled, turning around.

"He's the only one who will help you. Demyx is hopeless—you saw what Sora did to him. Xemnas will tell you no, and give you flowery explanations. Axel…he's a good fighter. A good man. The others don't care."

"What about you?"

"You wouldn't take my bets." He shruggedhelplessly and heldup five cards, flashing thehand at her—he had nothingbetter thana pair of aces.