Well... I went to a wedding... got drunk... partied... danced with the bride... all that good stuff. I shook my ass to "My Hips Don't Lie" and "Fergilicious" and went home with my eleven year-old-cousin, watched John Tucker Must Die until about 2:30 in the morning, finally sobering up... then passed out on the couch... went home the next day, made cheesecake, went to sleep, woke up this morning, tested, went to college, came home with about five tons of backlogged Ney York Times and the remnants of the cheesecake... then I wrote this.

Yeah. I bet you were wondering what that had to do with anything! XD Anyway... I now have Muse "Absolution" and My Chemical Romance "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" to keep me busy, as well as Samuri X: Trust and Betrayal to inspire. You can already see the effects of the Muse on this.

Hopefully this turned out better than I think it did. I'm still feeling a little meh on where to take this. I didn't feel like dragging out the week... and I know it's not December, but Christmas is always shitty for me, and I want to make it shitty for them while I'm still in the mood... I ranted. Sorry.

Anyway, the confession and the rules of the game appear here. But the Luna Diviner will help make things even more clear later. He's cool like that. Think about the title for a little while before you read this.

Axel lay there, silent, awake long before Demyx would rise, and he knew he had to do something. This was his mission. He had to change fate, and as hard as it would be, he had to succeed. He'd pay any price. He'd throw away all human ambition; he would rip out his own heart if it clouded his vision. He had to protect this one beautiful creature he'd discovered: the butterfly in the tempest.

And he thought: I am going to die.

He felt like a flame on the very end of a candle, looking down to his lover, the water that was slowly rising around the wax, ready to drown him. He was going to die at the hands of the very thing he fell in love with and said individual had no clue.

"You will be the death of me."

--- ---

Saïx stared at the guitar with big, bright eyes so amber that they looked gold. He couldn't understand the instrument, but it continued to call to him endlessly. Zipporah whined for attention, but she went unheard for the most part. Saïx was much too busy listening to the siren call of the instrument in its case, lilting like laughter but also moaning deep down in its hollow heart.

He moved forward cautiously, popped each of five latches and lifted the top away from the case. The instrument seemed to hum in anticipation of his touch. He reached down, caressed the strings, and it came to him.

A man strumming the strings. He has bright fiery hair much like Axel's, but it's longer, pulled back into a ponytail trailing down his back like a river of flames. His eyes were violent green as well, but more of an antifreeze shade than Axel's more tame jade. He has bright red scars tracing the lines of his cheekbones. He's pale too… a lovely man.

He plays with a look of the utmost concentration, but soon he's interrupted by a loud cry. He looks up and smiles softly.

"Axel, yo!" he laughs, "Come here kid!"

And Saïx finds himself smiling as he sees Axel, probably only six or seven years old with a massive grin and huge, bright eyes. He runs up and catches the older man's face in his little hands.

"Brother, Brother!" Axel cried, "Mommy wants you!"

"Alright, kid. I'll be there in a minute."

"But Reeeennoooo!" Axel whined.

"Alright, aright. Go get my case."

And with that, the vision moved forward through time, and Axel sat sadly next to the guitar, his hands running up and down the strings softly. He looked like he was probably thirteen or fourteen here, and there was a terrible sadness in his eyes. It was obvious. There was no needed explanation.

Death never requires it.

Saïx knew Axel had experienced great pain, but not something like this. And suddenly, Axel looked up at him, confusion in his eyes.

"Who are you?"

Saïx was a little shocked, but more so, he was bewildered. There was no one else in the room.

"I asked who you are…"

Saïx pointed to himself experimentally, forcing a projection of himself forward into the dream.

"Yeah… you."

"I had no idea how strong you really are…"

This was no dream.

"What?"

"Someday you'll meet me again. Be strong, Axel."

He pulled away, even though Axel's consciousness tugged at him incessantly to come back.

Saïx couldn't help but smile.

"So then, you were always like this…"

--- ---

The drive consisted mostly of silence, because Demyx was out cold. The night with his parents just before leaving had been enough to drain him to the point of no return. Not even Redbull could save him this time, but that was fine. Axel needed time to think. Time was running out.

He turned up the stereo just a tad. He wanted to keep the kid sleeping but he also needed something to keep him awake, and so he sang along with the CD, Muse, Hysteria. It was nice. He had a horrible voice—so he thought—but it was fine as long as no one was subjected to it. The light of the moon on asphalt… no one but them on the road tonight. It was Christmas Eve, and he had presents in the back for both himself and Demyx because the blond's parents were too damn nice and Xigbar insisted.

He just wanted to be home… for the most part, the painting he wanted to give to Demyx was done, and he couldn't wait to see the reaction… A week in Florida had spoiled him enough. It was time to go home to the snow and cold and save poor Saïx from that stuffy apartment.

The man was a saint…

But Axel needed him again. The blue-haired man had a way of clearing up even the most clouded of visions, thanks to his perfect ability to latch onto another person's thought processes. He was the more talented of them, no doubt, but he was the one who didn't neglect his abilities. Axel didn't want his… not up until now. Now he needed them and he was out of practice… he was just worried that he'd go off the fucking deep end again. That wouldn't be good in the least.

It had happened before.

"Hey… Axel… Don't look so stressed… are you alright?" Demyx looked worried, albeit very tired.

"I'm fine… but I…" he reached out and tapped the power button on the stereo deliberately. "Demyx… I have reason to believe you're in danger."

"Why?"

"I… I have these dreams."

"I know about your dreams… you scare the shit out of me when you do that…" he sighed, "So you're finally ready to tell me what's going on?"

"Yeah…" Axel took a deep breath. "I… hold on."

He pulled over, put on the parking break and rubbed his face roughly with both hands. A few seconds later he leaned into his seat and breathed a nervous sigh.

"Saïx… Saïx is what most people call a true psychic. He sees shit that no one has any business looking at. He's helped solve a few murders and catch a few bastards with the cops… he's good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I met him at the sanitarium during my first stay. I was really fucked up because I couldn't touch a goddamn thing without seeing something horrible, and well… they thought I was psychotic or something… that didn't help much. I just tried to find a way to die and put myself out of my misery."

"I know how that feels…" Demyx said with a soft smile, fingers absently tracing the puckering scars on his wrists.

"No… you don't know… you don't know how it feels to drown yourself, drink turpentine, gouge your own neck with a pair of rusty scissors… I've been there, done that. I don't know how many times I should have died…"

Demyx looked shocked.

"Anyway, Saïx found me and he knew exactly what was happening to me when he saw my first paintings. He said they looked exactly like his visions… but there was one key difference. He said I didn't see the past…"

"Holy shit… you're… holy shit…" Demyx breathed, "That's not possible. Stop fucking with me."

"Remember the car?" he related, "I had a dream you'd get hit by a car. I had a dream every night where you died in my arms. I listened to your last breath, felt your last heartbeat. I saw you die a hundred times, and when I reached out and pulled you back that night, I altered the course of the future radically. I've never even dared to do it before… time is something sacred… taboo. You don't fuck with it. That's what Saïx said… but I did, and now we have to pay for it."

"Axel…"

"Yeah?"

Demyx didn't look hurt, shocked, mad, or even mildly scared; instead, he looked completely and utterly love-struck, his bright eyes shimmering with tears cascading down his smooth, pale cheeks.

"You messed shit up for me? Just for me?"

"I can't imagine living without you… if you died…" and he didn't need to elaborate as the overwhelming surge of emotions swamped him all at once. "I just can't even imagine…"

"Then… Don't…"

Axel collected himself.

"You're forgetting the catch."

Demyx paled.

"One of us has to pay. Fate demands payment. There has to be a sacrifice." Axel paused. "I think I'm going to die."

"Fuck fate!" Demyx cried, throwing his arms around the redhead possessively, "She won't have you. You're mine you little shit-head!"

"If it comes down to it though… don't stop me, babe."

"What?"

"Time's running out… but if we can just hold on… Don't stop me when the day comes. I want you to live. You're still sane and you have so much potential. I want you to prosper."

"What about you then?" Demyx moaned, "You're talking like you've seen the world… like you know everything… like old people right before they die."

Axel smiled.

"Oh… I've seen it all though other's eyes."

It was then that Demyx realized he couldn't even hazard a guess at Axel's age. He was timeless. And all at the same time he was bound by the revolutions of the planet just like everyone else… But there was just something about him that made him seem like such an anachronism.

"You have…"

"So you'll let me, then?"

But Demyx never answered that. He would prove that sick bitch wrong. He had to.