Ah! I'm so sorry I haven't updated, guys. Been so busy here that time slips through my fingers like a greased monkey... and unfortunately, a lack of creative loving from the people around me and several shots of rum, approximately three cases of beer, and two packs of flavored cloves - one cherry, one vanillia - as well as verious underfed, rabid plot bunnies have forced this into a temporary hiatus. I've had this chapter written, beta'd (by my wonderful and amazing beta Mousewolf. Yes that was a shameless plug, once again. I should post some side-by-side comparisons to show you how much she really does... maybe in my LJ? Anyway, back to the topic...) and ready, just waiting in my files like a loaf of lead. I just kind of forgot about it. I have portions of 35 and 36 started, but I'm scrapping them in favor of making Dem completely helpless still... I want to play with Axel's dreams a bit... show you all what he can really do. He's got more strength than he allots to himself.
Also, this is a bit of a happy chapter. There's some humor in it, if you can find it buried in there... I've been a bit angsty lately. Also, since I'm sick of a structured plot at this point in time, there will be at least one Oneshot and a PWP that gets spawned out of this. The PWP and Winter Marigolds (planned four to five chapters) are gifts to Mousewolf, of course, and the oneshot is for all of those people who can see Larxene in a very compromising situation... the kitty goes out to hunt sparrows and finds herself landing on something with well concealed talons.
There will be some Turps spinoffs soon. Also, if you guys want to write one or two, maybe do some fanart, I'll link you on my front page. I think the Turpsverse needs some variety... and so, here I go. Next update should be written and whatnot by the time I get home on Tuesday. Not looking forward to a thirteen hour bus ride, but I am NOT letting some people I don't know pack it in the bottom of a plane. It's my baby. I don't care if they would replace it. I love no other guitar like I love my Konstantine. He's beautiful...
Not that you guys needed to hear that... (sweatdrop) Anyway, I'm cutting out now. Read, Enjoy, Review, Repeat! (lessthanthree)
PS: Welcome all you newcomers! I hope you're enjoying the story thus far... to all of you who faved, reviewed, and watch, thank you all. Even as this is coming fast to a close, I still want to write for you all. You've put up with my shit so patiently... I should make the boys start going out to give hugs! (teehee)
:: Lithium ::
Axel sat on the couch, curled up with a blanket covering him to the chin. He stared blankly at the painting, haunting him with those terrible, familiar blue eyes. He wanted desperately to throw it on a fire, to slash the canvas to a million tiny pieces, to break the frame and send it to an uncertain fate in a landfill.
Anything but having it there to haunt him.
Under the blanket, clutched tight in bony fingers, the only thing Demyx had left behind that didn't quite belong to him, but radiated his presence: the guitar. Though uncomfortable, Axel clutched it in his hands.
"Sorry, Reno," he whispered, to the ghosts of maybe-never-was and maybe-could-have-been. "Sorry Dem. I fucked it up for both of you, didn't I?"
The sound of keys in the door lock. Axel jumped, gazing back over his shoulder excitedly. The door swung open, but a wave of disappointment hit him; just Naminé, though she looked mighty angry. She left the door half open, Roxas hovering nervously in her wake. She stomped right up to Axel and he didn't flinch, didn't make any attempt to stop her or defend himself when she wound back and slapped him hard across the cheek.
She hit him again and again until Roxas caught her in his surprisingly strong grip, soothed her with kisses and gentle words. She was reduced to quiet tears and a singularly unpleasant angry glare.
"I'm sorry," he finally breathed, the words dropping heavy from his lips like lead.
Naminé bristled hard, pulling at Roxas' hold again, wanting desperately to hurt him. I wish I had my drawing things, give me back my powers so help me, said her eyes, aquamarine-blue and hard as stone.
"Tell that to Demyx, you asshole!" she cried, "He's dying, Axel! He thinks it's all his fault!"
Axel turned, squeezed his eyes shut against the emotions that threatened to escape him, clinched his jaw until there was bright agony singing through the taut muscles.
"I had to make him drink some water today… he could barely swallow on his own because he won't eat anything… he won't drink anything. He's wasting away and the only thing keeping him alive is the hope you will forgive him!" she cried, still trying to escape Roxas' iron-hard grip. The ex-Key's eyes were shut, his blond head slightly bowed.
Axel felt it bubbling up in him, shunted it off as best he could manage, but it was all just too much to take. Demyx had definitely rubbed off on him. He tried to minimize the pain that his sobs caused as they constricted his already tight frame, tried to just let them happen, but there was so much regret, anger, sorrow pent up within him. He clutched the guitar desperately, wishing it could reciprocate his pain.
It was mute and uncaring of his agony. It was never his.
Roxas' warm hand found a perch on Axel's shoulder, a small reassurance, but he was alone nonetheless. There was nothing that could change that.
"You have to go to him, Axel," Roxas urged, "You have to help him…"
"I can't…" Axel breathed, "He hates me…"
"No," Naminé hissed bitterly, "Against all better judgment and logic, he still loves you. You're the only one who can fix him… for now."
"Roxas…" Axel said as evenly as he could manage, "There's a legal pad on the computer desk… I know it's not the most… I don't know… well, I'm writing him a letter…"
The boy nodded and went to get the requested items.
--- ---
Demyx opened his eyes only to find a pair of sapphire eyes bluer than his own staring at him intently. He blinked a few times and made an effort to clear his pain-racked mind.
"Oh. Hey, kiddo," he laughed weakly.
"Hey, Dem. You feeling alright?" Roxas replied in a soft, friendly manner.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Demyx assured, lying through his teeth. He did it even though a person would have to be blind to believe him. Maybe numb and deaf as well. "What brings you to my little corner of the world, kid?"
The other rolled his eyes, then ducked his head slightly. "I've got a letter for you… I was supposed to read it to you personally."
"Oh, well go ahead. I promise I won't fall asleep again," Demyx laughed, making a valiant effort to sit up. Roxas rushed to prop him up against the pillows despite the claims that he needed no help.
"There," he murmured, "You comfortable?"
"Yeah," Demyx replied softly, "Thanks…"
"Now, let's see here…" Roxas began just as quietly, unfolding the sheet of yellow paper withdrawn from his back pocket. He slumped down against the side of the bed and began to read.
"Demyx,
"I've never been much of a writer. I'm bad at introductions and I always get lost trying to write conclusions. I can never decide whether to address people with 'Dear so-and-so' or just use their name or what. I avoid writing letters like the plague, and I bet you can see why already.
"Let's just cut to the chase. I tried not to hurt you, Demyx. I tried not to hurt you and I failed miserably. I complicated you in the cruelest and most unfair ways and it hurts me to know that I made your life so miserable. I keep walking in and out of the studio because I want to paint, but your face is everywhere. You haunt me. I can't get you out of my head or my heart, and I wish I hadn't been such a fucking asshole to you.
"You remember the time when we named the guitar… when we first made love… when I promised I would make myself yours for the rest of my life?
"Those nights haunt me. The words are like poison without you here. I need you, Demyx. You're my antidote and I'm dying to have you back here in my arms. If you never want to see me again, I can understand that. I'll just try to move on with my life, though it wouldn't ever be complete without you.
"You are the better half of me, Demyx. I hope one day you can come to forgive me for being so cruel so many times before this even.
"I love you more than you'll ever know.
"Axel."
Roxas turned to look over his shoulder, was surprised to find Demyx smiling softly, tears rolling down his pale cheeks generously.
"He always was an asshole… but you'd know that just as well as me, wouldn't you?"
The blond kid smiled.
"Yeah," he agreed, "He's a grade-A moron."
"What should I do, Roxas? He wants to be forgiven but he… he didn't really…"
"Forgive him and move on. I know Nami's being kind of stubborn, but I don't think you two were ever meant for anyone else."
Demyx smiled, gazed out the window vacantly.
"You know, I could really go for some mac-n-cheese right now." Demyx said after a minute, a little grin parting his lips.
"Can we say obsession?" Roxas laughed, "Alright. I'll be back."
"You used to be just as bad!" He smirked, then shouted after the boy's retreating back, "And don't forget the bacon!"
He smiled. He wasn't letting the redhead off the hook, that was for sure, but he was looking forward to building a stronger bridge on top of the ashes of the old one.
--- ---
The reunion was sweet, to say the least.
Since they couldn't move Demyx quite yet, Axel spent the long nights at Saïx's apartment to just be with his lover. They mostly just talked and when they weren't talking, they were entwined like serpents on the bed, sleeping soundly in the warm light streaming through the windows.
Roxas and Naminé dropped by often, mostly to bring Saïx some food and maybe a few books in payment for being such a saint for this whole time. He didn't ever readily accept anything, but the two knew he was grateful in the highest degree. There were even a few occasions when Roxas fell asleep on the couch and Saïx told Naminé that she needn't worry, he had plenty to repay them. They'd spent the night a few times that way, but really, Saïx could care less. He was just happy to play host for as long as everyone was around.
Ironically, he had the worst sort of apartment for this sort of thing, so Naminé, in her infinite wisdom, began an instant cleaning streak, advising Saïx on how to keep his archives of the New York Times from migrating out of his bedroom.
This was quite a chore, as it were.
Most of the time Naminé spent was lavished on persuading Saïx to throw away issues from four years ago. She had some success until she got to the previous year's issues, which he claimed he wouldn't part with even if she tried to castrate him or maybe strangle him with his own entrails.
Naminé had realized she'd lost the war at that point, but didn't give up until Demyx had made his recovery a week or so later. Demyx literally had to drag the peppy blond out of the apartment.
So there in the third week of October, Demyx and Axel found each other again. Something was lost, but in the same right something was gained all the same.
After it's been broken, it never goes together quite the same as before. You always see the cracks ever after. But sometimes, it's the flaws that make it all the more beautiful.