Israel's Son - Silverchair

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Blood ran in rivulets, in slowly meandering trails, threading back and forth like veins of chaos, deeply, darkly red against the pale skin it traversed. It was stopped at the ropes that bound the wrists, seeping into the rough fibres, staining them. Beneath this point, the hands were clean, but twitched weakly, unconsciously. They'd been bound so tight, Sora didn't know if he'd ever be able to use them again. His thumbs quirked. It – it might have been okay, or at least a little more endurable, if… if only they hadn't been wrapped so savagely around the back of the chair. His shoulders – they screamed for mercy. He himself could only sit there, feeling the way every limb was strapped down, knees spread apart, feet at odd angles to the floor. His chin rested against his chest, exhaustion and pain and blood making this whole… consciousness thing… increasingly difficult.

That said, he didn't know if he was brave enough to just pass out like that. He'd be leaving himself to the mercy of the madman with the red hair.

Every now and then… he would try to reason with him. "Axel," he croaked. "Please. I don't – I don't even know who Roxas is. Why do you people… keep calling me…" He trailed off. That was it – that was the most he could manage. That was his burst of energy all used up. The defiance had been bled from his flesh. He honestly didn't know how much longer this would, or could, continue. At this rate, he was going to fade away, and never come back.

But Axel wasn't about to let that happen. "Don't go falling asleep now, key-whore," the man said pleasantly, slapping Sora's cheek lightly with the flat of the dagger that had done the honours to his carved-up arms. "We've had this discussion, haven't we? If you pass out, then Roxas passes out. And I'd quite like to speak to him before that happens, if it's all the same to you."

Sora stiffened, head jerking slightly, voice low and cold as he asked, "And if it's not?"

Axel went still, blazing eyes narrowing. His face ducked quickly, trying to peer up into Sora's. "Who was that just now?" he asked intently. "Who said that? Roxas?" There was no response. The boy was still awake, but no one was answering. The redhead grew angry, fingers tightening around the knife. "Goddamn it, Roxas, stop fucking around. You think I'm not serious about this or something? You think that at the end of this, if you haven't shown your fucking face, I'm just going to let this prison for you walk away?!" Still nothing. A minute of silence stretched, in which the man's face grew rapidly darker. "Get out here." His voice was thin, impossibly hard. "I swear to God, Rox, I've had enough." He sat back suddenly, laughing sharply, an unstable sound, hands throwing wide. "I'm telling you, I'm reaching breaking point here." He flipped the knife around, leaned forward again and pressed its cutting tip to Sora's throat. "If you're not here soon, I'll kill him." There was a tremor to his hand, but he held the blade hard against its target.

The brunet hitched in a shivering breath, Axel watching with wide eyes, waiting expectantly.

"I don't know who that – " He screamed in agony as the redhead drove the dagger into his shoulder with a roar. He stood, paced savagely for a moment, then turned and smacked the boy hard, open-palm, a stinging blow across his entire face. "I've heard enough," he snarled. "Fine! If that's the way you want it to go – say g'bye, key-whore, you can thank the other side of your heart for this shitty little fate. If it wasn't for him, you could be off saving the universe as we speak, but nooo, Roxas has to be the same apathetic, difficult little bitch as always, huh?" He wrenched the knife out, Sora crying out brokenly as warmth flooded his shirt. The redhead walked away again, swivelled on the spot, came back with furious features and wound up with the knife, got ready to slam it deep.

En route, Roxas raised his head, crystal-blue eyes sharp, and spat, "Don't you fucking dare."

Axel froze, half a foot from Sora's exposed chest. He turned to rock, could have been a statue if not for the heaving of his chest. Green eyes met azure, scarlet brows drawn together. Almost uncertainly, the man murmured, "…Roxas?"

"No. It's the tooth-fairy," came the sarcastic response. Voice like a whip, he snapped, "Who the hell else would it be?" He leaned forward as far as he could, demanding in a hiss, "What the hell do you think you're doing? How dare you hurt Sora like this!"

Like someone flicked a switch, every ounce of Axel's anger turned to pain. "I can't let them do this to you. You already know I'd kill for you, Rox. So how is this any different?"

Roxas' voice rang out harshly: "It's different because this is how I want it! I want to be whole, Axel. Isn't that the whole fucking point of the Organisation? To find our hearts?" He glared at the lost-looking redhead. "Well, I've found mine. It's here, in this body. And if you do anything to jeopardise that, I swear to God, Axel, I will come after you, and I will make you suffer."

Axel floundered for a moment, still knee-deep in grieving loss. "But… I don't want to let you go."

The blond/brunet shook his head, lowered his gaze. His voice low, he said, "But you already did. You didn't have a choice in the matter… I'm gone now. I'm not dead… I'm alive for once." His chin returned to his chest. "Please. Let Sora go. Let us go, Axel."

Sora woke up a while later, feeling woozy, sick, heavy-headed. There was no pain at the moment, not anymore – he wondered if he was too far gone for it now. He realised, after several groggy minutes, that he was all alone, and when he looked around, he saw the knife with his blood on it, stabbed into the floorboards between his feet. That was when he realised that his ankles weren't tied to the chair anymore. He wasn't agile or clever enough to somehow work the dagger up out of the ground and flip it around to cut the bindings at his wrists… but he could heave himself to his feet at last, and stumble-shamble out of there, all the doors left open, out into the light.