gravity
by neener

Thanks for the reviews guys. I hope you enjoy the chapter, please review!! –hugs-

chapter one: departing

Ansem looked pensively out of his window, watching the lake. Usually it was filled with life: birds and fish, boats and waves, but today it was empty and calm, despite the sunny weather. He sighed deeply, shifting the mug of coffee in his hands. Steam spiraled up towards the ceiling.

Behind him, a throat cleared. Ansem sighed and turned around to face the seated figure on the other side of his desk. The young man was strikingly handsome, hair standing out against his white shirt, two teardrop shaped tattoos set beneath his vivid green eyes. He had a relaxed air about him, bordering on uninterested, but he also looked slightly guilty, like he knew he had done something wrong. But Ansem knew that he only thing Axel was sorry about was getting caught disobeying his orders.

"Coffee?" the much older man offered.

Axel shook his head. "No, thanks."

Ansem turned back towards the window, frowning slightly. "Do you see the view out there, Axel?"

The redhead shrugged. "Yeah. Course. I see it all the time."

"Why is that?" Ansem sat down and propped his ankle up on his knee, leaning back in his chair.

Axel shrugged again. "Everyone knows what the lake looks like, Ansem." The older man gave him a look that obviously said wrong answer. "I guess because I'm in your office a lot."

Ansem nodded. Bingo! "Do you think Larxene knows that view as well as you do?" Axel stared at him. "What about Xigbar, or Demyx? Even Xemnas, your supervisor and my most trusted employee, probably doesn't know this view as well as you."

"I doubt it," Axel said, smiling brightly. "Xemnas doesn't have a photographic memory like I do. He's losing it with age."

Ansem laughed lightly and set his coffee down on the desk, but his tone soon became somber. "Axel, you should have no idea what that lake looks like from out of my window. You shouldn't know the pictures I have on my desk, or what color my carpet is." He frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair. "Do you know what that means? It means you're being called into my office far too much. And you know why that is, don't you?" Axel merely looked back at him, vaguely disinterested. "I should never need to tell you to make your collections on time." He raised his voice. "It's a rule that you must obey, Axel. This is your job I'm talking about, not something meaningless and disposable, like – "

"A human life?" Axel suggested.

Ansem glared.

"God, it was just a joke," Axel muttered, looking down at the ground.

"I happen to think that you do not take your job seriously," Ansem continued, even though that much was obvious. "Out of the thirty eight collections you had this week, you only made" – he glanced at a for on his desk – "three."

"I was busy this week," the redhead replied defensively.

"Marluxia had twice as many collections as you and he got them all done," Ansem replied, his voice bordering on dangerous. "It is not a question of how busy you are. These are human souls, souls you are supposed to be delivering to Heaven. It is not a game, Axel! We have discussed this many, many times."

He paused, sighed, and stood up. "You belong to a group of the highest paid, most respected, and most talented soul collectors in the Universe. I had hoped you would step up to your position and show how much you enjoy this job, but I'm afraid I may have been mistaken." Ansem turned towards the window and frowned. "I'm going to have to ask the council what they think. In the meantime, do your job. There are souls who are counting on you to guide them into the next world."

Axel stood, his face strangely blank. "Can I be excused?" he asked in a tone that was almost mocking. "I probably have a collection or something."

As the redhead exited the room, Ansem dropped back into his seat and pulled Axel's file forward. It was thick with forms and papers, most of them reports about his duties being neglected. Others were about his history, his education, his previous jobs. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.

Axel was a soul collector – one of the best, in fact. When a person died, he or one of his thousands of fellow collectors would appear on Earth and guide them to Heaven. The transition was usually difficult, and it sometimes took hours to coax a particularly reluctant spirit to leave their home. If a soul collector was not strong or smart enough to help, their charge would often wander off, becoming a ghost that would have a hard time finding peace. If a collection was ignored altogether, the person's spirit would return to their body. Unfortunately, this was not always a wanted thing.

When Axel did make a collection, his results were always fantastic. The problem was him actually getting around to doing his job.

"No," Ansem muttered to himself, turning the papers in the folder. That wasn't the only problem. Axel had never been human, and neither had any of the other soul collections. But Axel held a certain disdain for human beings. When he wasn't making a collection, he was arrogant and biting and cold, qualities that grated on everyone's nerves. But when he was sent to Earth on a job, he automatically become a polite, compassionate, and helpful guide.

The only question is, Ansem thought, picking up the copy of Axel's diploma from school, who is the real Axel? Which one is an act?

Axel tapped his cigarette on the side of the ashtray, frowning. Luxord was playing solitaire over in the corner, but otherwise the room was empty.

"Where is Larxene?" the redhead complained. He shifted on the couch and took another long drag on his cigarette. "We should continue our game."

Luxord had a look of deep concentration on his face. "I thought you won," he murmured. Axel shrugged and lay down on the couch, staring up at the blank ceiling. The room he was in could have been anywhere in the world – Axel had made collections from rooms like this, for old men who had heart attacks, women who drank too much, people who shot each other over who was winning the poker game.

So stupid, Axel thought, glaring generally all around the room. Humans can be ridiculously dumb.

His bitter thoughts were interrupted by two people coming into the room. Both were dressed identically in black suits and white dress shirts, though their ties were different shades of blue. The younger of the two, Demyx, had on a dark blue tie; his companion had on a silvery one, matching the streaks in his dark hair, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. A dark patch covered his right eye. His name was Xigbar. Both were soul collectors.

"Hey guys," Xigbar said, shrugging his jacket off. "What's up?"

Axel grunted.

"Sounds fascinating," Xigbar replied, taking a seat next to Luxord. Demyx loosened his tie and tossed it towards Axel's red one, which was draped over the back of the couch. "Lux, wanna play a hand? I've got a collection at three forty, I need some time to kill." Luxord quickly finished his game of solitaire and then pulled the cards into a messy pile, readying them to be shuffled. "Let's play Go Fish or something," Xigbar added. Demyx laughed and sat down. "No, really."

"Too scared to play poker with the champion?" Demyx teased, pulling off his jacket.

Xigbar snorted. "Yeah, as if. I just don't wanna play anything too heavy. I just had a collection about an hour ago – a whole family, husband, wife, kids, even a little baby. Some asshole rammed into their car." He shook his head. Luxord began dealing the cards. "Damn. It's a shame, that's what it fucking is. Shit like this makes me wanna quit."

"Can you do that?" Demyx asked curiously, frowning at the hand he had been dealt.

Xigbar shrugged. "Sure. If you can get fired, why not quit?" Luxord set the remaining cards down between them. "I won't though."

"Let's just get on with the game," Demyx growled, frowning deeply. Axel couldn't tell if the younger man was bluffing or not; despite his harmless and innocent appearance, Demyx was actually an extremely good actor. He had been studying musical theatre, in fact, before deciding to come a soul collector. They both liked to play tricks on the others, especially some of the older collectors. It was a way to relieve some of the tension that easily built up.

"I heard Ansem called you into his office," Demyx called, setting down a pair of eights. "Luxord, got any queens?"

Luxord grudgingly handed him one.

"Xigbar, got any jacks?" Demyx asked, turning to the man on his right.

"Nope," he replied. "Go fish."

"Axel?" Demyx repeated, glancing back at his colleagues.

Axel put out his cigarette and leaned back. "Yeah." He paused. "He said I'm a good collector, but I don't do enough of it." He rolled his eyes. "Everyone misses a few."

Xigbar snorted. "Yeah, but you have such a fucking attitude about it," he said, not even looking at the redhead. "You don't care about the souls you bring here."

Axel shrugged. "Why should I? I hardly ever see them again."

Demyx sighed but said nothing. The others were silent too. After a short pause, the brunette said, "If Ansem told you you were doing a bad job, it was for a reason."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Axel said dismissively. He stood up and grabbed his jacket and tie. "Sorry I can't sit around and listen to you boring old hags, but I have a collection."

"Do you really?" Luxord asked mockingly.

"Yes, I do," Axel said in a cool voice. As he slipped out of the room, he could hear Xigbar mutter, "Yeah, whatever you say, Axel."

The room was filled with screaming and crying. The two naked figures on the bed had faces that were twisted up in horror and disgust and shock. The body on the floor lay still, blood seeping from its head. A gun lay nearby.

Axel appeared, though the man and woman could not see him, just as they couldn't see the dark-haired figure looking down at the body. Her body.

"So I really did do it," she said in a hollow voice, hardly glancing up at him. "I killed myself."

Axel stood silently, his hands clasped behind him. The woman finally looked up, her ethereal face streaked with tears, and then glanced at the man in the bed. A sudden look of anger overtook her face, making her look ugly and cruel.

"That bastard is screwing my sister!" she cried. "How could he!?" She broke down into new waves of sobs, though Axel wasn't sure whether they were of rage or regret.

"People do stupid things sometimes," Axel said, extending his hand. "Come with me, Alice. It's time to go."

"Go where?" Alice's eyes were wide. "Oh, my god. Am I going to hell? They say that if you commit suicide, you're going to hell."

"You're not going to hell," Axel said.

Alice looked warily at him. "I'm not? I'm going to heaven?"

Axel nodded. She was strangely calm, for someone who had just put a gun to her head. Axel had had more than his share of reluctant spirits, of people who needed hours of explaining. At least she isn't trying to take him with her, he thought. That, too, had happened to him. It just made his job all the more unpleasant.

She took a step forward, though she still looked suspicious. "What about purgatory?"

A smirk twitched up Axel's lips. Somewhat bitterly, he replied, "Earth is the purgatory, Alice. It's just another stop." He paused; his voice changed back to compassionate. "Heaven is waiting for you. Your parents are there."

Alice stared at him for a short time until she finally reached out and took his hand. The man had leapt out of the bed and was frantically dialing 911; the woman merely lay there, sobs convulsing her body. Alice deliberately didn't look at either of them. "Is it nice there?" she asked, tightening her fingers around his. The outline of her body shimmered, as if reflected in water.

"Yeah," Axel said, leading her away. "You haven't lived until you, well, haven't lived."

Alice smiled uneasily, but then laughed. Axel grinned genuinely at her. They walked together, back towards Heaven.

When Axel returned to the rec room, it was filled with his colleagues. The huge television was on, and everyone was gathered around it. On the screen were two creatures battling it out. A booming voice announced, "Pidgeotto used whirlwind!"

"Hahah, beaten at your own game!" Xigbar shouted triumphantly. "I rule!" Both he and Xaldin were bent over video game controllers, their faces concentrated on the television screen.

Axel sat down on the back of the couch behind Larxene. Next to her was a man somewhat older than Axel, though he wasn't paying attention to the television screen like she was; he was boredly reading a magazine. His dark pink hair fell haphazardly into his eyes. The man glanced up at Axel and a look of disdain came over his face.

"Ansem wants to see you," he said calmly.

Axel wanted to make a face at him, but knew even that wouldn't be a good idea. Marluxia wasn't a barrel of laughs to begin with, and doing just the tiniest thing would only piss him off more and cause problems. So the redhead muttered a 'thanks' and hurried back out of th eroom.

The sun was hanging low over the horizon as Axel strolled across the lawn towards the large office building, where Ansem was located. There were other spirits strewn across the grass, talking to one another or reading on their own. A football game was going on by the lake.

Several people called out to him, but Axel ignored them. He preferred not to talk to spirits after he guided them; it only made him uncomfortable. The other soul collectors were company enough.

He ducked into the cool, air conditioned building and breezed past the secretary. Ansem's office was on the sixth floor. Axel knew the way by heart – he could have walked it blindfolded.

The elevator and hallways were filled with people carrying stacks of folders, files about the dead, forms that needed to be filled out. The building was always bustling with activity. It made Axel uneasy. It was bad enough when the rec room was filled with people, especially when they were all playing Pokemon Stadium. Axel shook his head.

Ansem's door was shut, but he could hear the man talking on the phone animatedly. Axel considered just waiting until some woman brushed passed him, her hair hitting him in the face. He grimaced and knocked forcefully on the door.

"Ansem, it's Axel," he called. Seconds later, the door opened, and the older blonde man beckoned him in, seemingly done with his phone conversation. The desk was piled a foot high with folders and paperwork; the trashbin nearby was overflowing with empty ice cream pop wrappers.

"Have a seat," Ansem said, his voice a bit strained. Axel was surprised – and curious. Ansem was a calm and centered man, who hardly ever lost his temper and strongly disliked shouting. For him to be worried or tense, it must be important, Axel thought. He stayed quiet as Ansem sat opposite him.

"I'm afraid the council was not sympathetic to your actions," Ansem finally said.

Axel stared at him.

The blonde man continued, "They worry that your inability to perform your job is due to the fact that you have no appreciation for human life."

Axel let out a bark of laughter. "That's not true, Ansem. I have a huge appreciation for human life."

Ansem gave him a look. "Now is not the time." He sighed and grabbed a report off of the top of the stack, flipping it open, and began to read. "My soul collector was really funny, he made me feel at ease despite the circumstances. He helped me to the orientation office and also told me where the best place to buy ice cream was. I definitely give him a ten out of ten, or whatever your rating system is." Ansem threw the report back on the stack. "Axel, all of your reports are like this. Why can't you just do your job?"

Axel said nothing, but sighed in annoyance and looked up at the ceiling.

The older blonde man stood up. "The council has given me orders to send you to Earth."

Axel's face paled and his jaw dropped open. "Er… what?"

Ansem sighed. "They hope that by living there" – Axel began to stutter in protest – "you will learn at least a little about what they go through." He paused. "They've only given you thirty days. If they do not believe you've learned your lesson, you will no longer hold this position."

"I don't want it anyway!" Axel growled, standing up and putting his fists on the desk.

"Do not lie, Axel," Ansem said pointedly. "This job is the only thing you feel attachment to! You will live as a human for 30 days."

Axel ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. This was an uncommon punishment, but it had happened before – one of Axel's previous colleagues, a man named Saix, had abused his position and was sent to Earth many times, but he never learned anything from his trips, and so was permanently ordered there to leave out his life as a mortal. Axel's stomach flipped. Is that what I want? Definitely not!

"Fine," he finally said. "Okay. I'll do it. Will I get killed or anything? What if I get hit by a car or stabbed or something?"

"No," Ansem told him. "You are safe from death – we want you to return and hopefully, possibly, reclaim your job. But you will feel both emotional and physical pain."

The redhead chuckled humorlessly. He already had a plan. "I'm looking forward to it." How hard is it going to be to live in a hotel for 30 days? The only emotional pain I'll be feeling is if my room service is late.

Ansem frowned. "There is one other term."

Axel turned to face the door, and paced across the room, a look of disbelief on his face. This is ridiculous, he thought. "Fine," he muttered. "What is it?"

Ansem hesitated. "On your way back, you have to bring someone with you."

"I don't understand." Axel's brows knitted together. "I have to bring someone back with me? Who?"

"You will know when the time comes," Ansem replied cryptically.

"But why – "

"Now, we must go," he interrupted.

"Wait, now?" Axel was aghast.

Ansem nodded and quickly crossed the distance between them. He grabbed Axel's arm in a vice grip and dragged him forward. Axel could feel the strange sensation of his body slipping away at the edges, fading away into the air. He shut his eyes tightly, his mind racing.

When he opened them, they were standing in a deserted alleyway. Rain poured down upon them, but it fell right through their skin, as if they were only holograms. The streets were filled with cars; people bustled up and down the sidewalk hurriedly.

"Where are we?" Axel asked, staring out into the city streets. Ansem let go of his arm, and the redhead felt a thundering shock, his body solidifying, becoming heavy and alive. Suddenly he could feel the rain coursing across him, feel the cold raising gooseflesh on his skin, feel every single part of his body in startlingly stark detail.

He looked up at Ansem, who had a solemn expression on his face. "See you in thirty days," he said, adjusting his tie before turning on his heel and fading away, leaving Axel alone in the alleyway, his clothes and hair soaked with rain.