More dreams? Ho shit!

Yes, I cuss like there's no tomorrow and I really can't stop myself... err... I need to tell you, I'll probably be gone all this weekend. No updates, this means... so I figured I'd put two in tonight... and this chapter is short so it's all good... hope y'all enjoy it. If you don't it's never too late to go back and rewrite completely. I'm serious. If the major consensus is that the past few chapters sucked, you can get me to go back and revise it entirely...

And I hate to burst your little bubbles... but someone is going to die... and to tell you the truth, I'm still not sure which. The roulette isn't over just yet. It may turn out that I change my mind even... but who knows... things are still very up in the air. You may be able to sway me one way or another, but in the end, it's probably not going to be a happy story... Which makes me sad...

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Reviewers... I love you all.

Mahogany always elicited the most pleasing sound. That was his consensus, at least.

"Soft, dark woods resonate better," Demyx said softly, his fingers working smooth and soft on the cool brass strings, "And it's even better that this is all solid… where did you get it?"

"A long time ago from a friend," Axel replied, voice unusually hushed. These moments sooth the beast in him.

"This is a beautiful guitar… does it have a name yet?"

"No…"

"Well… let's see… it's a Marten…" Demyx laughed appreciatively, "And a classic Dreadnought… what would be a good name here…"

"Herman," Axel said with a wicked grin.

Demyx nodded, "Alright. Herman Marten it is."

A nice memory…

And that's the exact one he's thinking of. Axel can tell because when Demyx remembers that moment, he smiles like he's being held. It's the memory of one of those moments where everything was perfect. A moment where they had forgotten the circumstances and the problems that surrounded them…

And now he lies there, looking up to the sunset streaked sky with such forlorn eyes.

Life is bleeding out of him slowly, the little hole in his side is so innocent-looking, but his blood is black like an oil-slick on the pavement. It doesn't hurt though. Mercy found him at the end of a pistol's philistine muzzle.

"I wish… I wish you were here…" he whispers, face ashen white. "I wish I could have died in your arms tonight."

And the comet he's been waiting for blinks into view. He smiles. Only for a moment, though, because his body goes limp like a rag-doll.

And there was so much blood, and that grin… the man who held the gun was grinning like a shark. It haunts him. The pain is unbearable.

"Bang."

Axel wakes with an involuntary cry, and someone's arms are vise-tight around his waist, he claws desperately to get away, but he's shaken from his panic by Demyx's sleep smoothed, soft voice.

"Hey… Hey, it's alright, love… I'm here…"

It's uncomfortably dark and this place is unfamiliar, but he can see the faint glimmer of blue and he presses himself as close as he can be short of crawling inside the other man.

"Hey… it's okay, love," he says shakily, "You scared me…"

"I'm sorry…" Axel barely manages to whisper.

Demyx sighs and buries his furrowed brow in the forest of red peaks of his lover's hair. They'd spoken of these things… the insanity. Axel told him how bad it could get, but this just scared him terribly… seeing it in person. Demyx didn't care what happened to him… he just wanted the one he'd fallen so hard for to be happy.

"Now I wish I had a parachute

'Cause I'm fallin' bad for you

And I can see the ground approachin' now

But I'm not sure what to do

Oh, I feel like a piñata

Once you take a swing at me

If you could just crack the shell open

I think inside you would find something sweet…"

Axel sighs. Demyx is relieved. It seems like the beast in his lover's head calms when there's music in the air, and though his voice is still shaky, and he's terribly unsure of all that's happening, he sings until Axel finally falls asleep again. For some reason, those haunting lyrics return to him.

I heard you fell into a rabbit hole

Covered yourself up in snow

Baby, tell me, where'd you go

For days and days?

"No crack for you. You're trippy enough without it," he whispers to his unconscious lover. "What am I going to do with you?"