A/N: Wow, I think this is the longest chapter so far. The longest in all, I suspect, will be chapter 12. (The fic will be 13 chapters long. I thought that was fitting, don't you?) But I can't tell you what happens then, anyway. Neener neener neener. :P I've found a strategy for using Roman numerals and numbers: after the word "Number," I type it out (Number Six, Number Eleven). Otherwise, Roman numerals (VI, XI). Ta-daaaa!
You guys are so great. I didn't think this story would do so well, but people seem to like it, incredibly enough! It's disappointing that I can't reply to anonymous reviews (I feel uncomfortable using their e-mail addresses, how pathetic is that?), because you two gave me such wonderful reviews that I want to hug you. Thank you, anyway. XD I'm glad you approve.
But you didn't click the link to hear me ramble. On with the fic!
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Encounter 4- Echoes
Zexion wanted to feel frustrated.
He wanted to scream, to rage, to throw chairs around, to have a tantrum. Without a heart, however, that was impossible. Ienzo had never been one to throw a tantrum, anyway.
He sulked instead, burying his nose in a book and not responding when Lexaeus tried to get him to eat something. So concentrated on the memory of anger was he that he had to read the words on the page three times over before comprehending.
It was Marluxia's fault, he had decided. The insufferable man's memory was practically magnetic. Admittedly, he had lied to the Assassin about the first time, but it really had been accidental the third. He had been repairing the damage from his original carelessness, but something inexplicable had drawn him, resulting in yet another dip into Aramuil's life. Worse, he had been unexpectedly shaky when he pulled out of the memory, shaky enough to have to cling to the other Nobody. The weakness itself had been bad, but vastly more humiliating had been the need to hold desperately on to Marluxia, of all people. The mere memory of it made him growl at the unassuming book.
Damn the Superior for ordering him to research the memories of a Nobody. In fact, damn him for assigning Zexion to Oblivion at all.
Yet, that didn't change anything, so here he was in his "office" exactly twenty-four hours after yesterday's unfortunate incident, and here was the Graceful Assassin, smiling at him in that infuriating way.
"You seem amaze that I'm here on time, VI."
Yet again, that condescending attitude. If he had a heart, Zexion was sure he would loathe Marluxia with all of it.
"You're not here to chat, Number Eleven," he reminded the other Nobody. "We have a job to do."
"And I am greatly looking forward to it," Marluxia replied smoothly, his smug grin growing just a bit wider. "Where shall we start?"
"At the beginning," Zexion said. "It's always easiest for me to find the memories that were closest to you… that is to say, your name, your family, and your homeworld. I was going to start with your homeworld. When Xigbar found you, he reported that your world had been almost completely overrun by Heartless, yet since the Key-Bearer defeated the false Ansem, it must have been restored. This would make your memories a valuable asset if the Superior is to consider taking any action on your world."
"I see," Marluxia murmured. "Well, that makes good sense." He glanced around the small room that passed as Zexion's workspace. "Aren't you going to have me sit down?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Zexion scowled, narrowing his eyes. He gestured at the nearest chair, and Marluxia sat primly. The Schemer pulled up a chair for himself.
"Yes, but only because there may be some weakness following my experiment," he replied. Marluxia grinned up at him from over his hands, on which he was resting his chin.
"Like how you had to lean on me yesterday?" he asked. Zexion couldn't quite conceal his embarrassed flush, but ducked his head slightly to hide it with his hair.
"Like how you collapsed the very first time," he countered. Marluxia leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows coming together in annoyance. Then his face smoothed out into a vague sort of amusement.
"Touché," he breathed. He raised an eyebrow again. "Shall we begin, then? Just tell me what to do."
Zexion snorted softly.
"You should be grateful, XI," he said coldly. "My performance would not be altered no matter what you did. I could dig into your mind without any consideration for your comfort at all, but I'm in a good mood today—or I was— so I'll make this easier on you."
He moved his chair closer to Marluxia's, although the smell of flowers which lingered about him was nearly overwhelming to his sensitive nose at this close range.
"Since this is for research purposes, I'll have to be a bit more careful about my methods," he explained. "Your mind's natural instinct is to fight any intrusion, but you have to accept it. If you relax, there won't be a residual headache later."
As he reached towards Marluxia's face, XI asked, "So does the physical contact make it easier?"
"On me, no. I've already said that my abilities aren't affected by outside influences like that," Zexion said distractedly, brushing rose-colored bangs aside and resting his fingers on Marluxia's temples. "But some claim that it helps them to relax."
"Some?" the Assassin inquired, raising one eyebrow. "Do you often go into other people's minds?"
"On Xemnas' orders," Zexion said shortly, "I sometimes… speed negotiations along."
Marluxia smirked at the hesitation.
"In other words?"
"The Superior," Zexion said, choosing his words with care, "uses my talents as a tool to achieve his— that is to say, the Organisation's— ends. It is not for me to question what he uses me for."
"But I doubt you ever need to touch those people," Marluxia pointed out. "Xemnas couldn't care less about their comfort."
"No," Zexion admitted. "Sometimes, however, other members of the Organisation seek me out for healing, as you did yesterday. I've been told that the physical contact helps."
"It's true," Marluxia said, closing his eyes as the first hints of Zexion's power slipped into him. "Your touch is very… soothing." With his eyes shut, he missed the Schemer's blush, but something subtle changed in the feeling of Zexion's mind exploring his own.
This may take some time, VI murmured in his mind. I'm going to try and find locations that have struck you as familiar and go on from there.
All right, Marluxia responded, as Zexion carefully delved deeper.
Trees, blue sky, wide pastures…
"There," he whispered aloud. The touch of the Schemer's fingers increased fractionally. The odd sensation of Zexion's mind filling his own grew more intense, and then—
He was standing in bright sunlight and instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes. The smell of wildflowers filled his nose and he breathed deeply, taking the time to enjoy it before looking around at his location. It was a quaint little farm in a valley surrounded by mountains. A forest bordered it on two sides, a dark, deep forest that made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could sense the darkness inside.
"Is this at all familiar?"
Marluxia jumped and turned to see the Zexion was standing next to him, also looking around.
"Yes," he answered, with another glance around him. The farmhouse and barn were right were he expected them, and he was quite sure that he recognized the apple tree in front. "How are you doing this?"
Zexion looked smug.
"This world is an illusion I created using the memories from your subconscious," he explained. "It was fairly simple, actually. Tell me what you remember about this world."
Marluxia took a few steps this way and that, taking in familiar sights.
"There's a village that way," he said, pointing towards a dusty road. "A lake over that hill." He gazed at the forest, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine. "There are stories of a castle deep in there," he said, dropping his voice as though confessing a secret. A hand on his arm startled him.
"That forest," Zexion said, nodding his head towards it. "I can sense your unease. Is that the place where Aramuil lost his heart?"
Marluxia snorted.
"Stupid, he was," he said, although to his surprise, his voice came out rougher than he had expected. "He could have escaped. He made a foolish choice." He held up a hand to stave off further inquisition. "Don't ask, that's all I can remember."
Laughter made both of them turn to the field. Three young children were playing there, two boys and a girl. One of the boys was a brunet. The other boy and the girl were blonde. All three had the same blue eyes.
"Aramuil's siblings?" Zexion asked.
"Jean, Luc, and Lia," Marluxia replied. He opened his mouth again, but Zexion cut him off.
"Before you ask, they can't see or hear us. We don't exist, to them."
Even after this assurance, Marluxia jumped when Lia cried, "Ara! Ara!" and the three children ran towards them.
"Zexion—"
He gasped as the blond boy, Luc, ran right through him.
"I told you," Zexion said. "We don't exist here. We're ghosts, you might say."
They turned to see the children swarming around a handsome young man with brown hair and blue eyes. There was a pang in Marluxia's chest.
"Is that Aramuil?" Zexion asked softly. Marluxia nodded. "I thought so. You kept his eyes."
Marluxia shrugged.
"I suppose I did."
"The castle you spoke of," Zexion murmured. "Can you remember any of those stories people used to tell?"
Marluxia frowned. "No," he said at last. Zexion hummed thoughtfully.
"Well, it's a pity we can't go and investigate."
"Why not?" Marluxia asked.
"This is your memory. Am I correct in saying that you never went into the forest?" VI inquired. Marluxia smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Only once."
"When you lost your heart," Zexion clarified. The Assassin nodded shortly.
"I don't remember it, exactly."
"From what I found, your sister's heart was taken too," the Schemer said. When this got no response but a stony silence, he turned to survey the world around them. Perhaps it could be used for the Organisation's ends later.
"Very good, XI," he said at last. "Time to go."
Marluxia frowned in disappointment, but resignedly turned to the Schemer.
"All right."
Quite suddenly, the field, the farm, and the mountains all disappeared. Marluxia stared into the darkness, trying to see through it. Was this supposed to happen?
Then the screaming began.
He recognized it immediately, of course. He had heard it enough through someone else's memory in the past two days.
The darkness crept back just enough for him to see a dim room, a cold, metal, lifeless room filled with colored indicator lights and buttons and men in white coats. In the middle of the room was a table, and strapped to the table, bucking and writhing and screaming, was a boy.
Ienzo's skin was just as pale as Zexion's, but it seemed more so because the hair which fell into his face was as black as ebony. His eyes, when they opened briefly between shrieks of agony, were also black, as dark and deep as the night sky.
"Zexion, what…" Marluxia began as he rounded on the other. The young Nobody was standing frozen, his eyes wide with fear and pain, his mouth open slightly as though he were ready to say something, but no sound was forthcoming.
"Zexion?" Marluxia asked, taking Zexion's shoulder's and shaking him lightly. "Zexion, come on! Zexion!"
The Schemer made no sign that he had heard or even felt XI. He continued to stare past him at the boy on the table, echoes of remembered terror shining in his eyes. Marluxia tried again to shake Zexion out of his trance, but it was no use.
Cursing all mind-mages, Marluxia thought quickly. He wrapped his arms tightly around VI's trembling form, concentrating withal his might on green trees, blue sky, yellow wildflowers, and the laughter of children.
He felt a tug on his mind, and suddenly they were back in the warmth and light of the memory of his homeworld. Marluxia drew slightly away from Zexion, squeezing his shoulders. The Schemer sucked in a ragged gasp, looking around wildly before his eyes settled on those of the other Nobody.
"Are you all right?" Marluxia asked. "You got kind of… scary for a second there."
Zexion shook himself, and XI let go of his shoulders.
"I…" he said, and it came out as a pathetic whisper. He cleared his throat with a cough, then tried again. "I'm sorry… I really don't know how that happened, I'm sorry… I…"
He was trembling violently, Marluxia noted. Hesitantly, he took the smaller form into his arms again. He thought he could understand Lexaeus' strong loyalty to this young man who was so much weaker than he. There was something about Zexion that made Marluxia want to protect him, to hold him tight and assure him that everything would be all right.
"Do you want to stay here for a while, or should we go?" he asked softly. Zexion rested against him.
"Elaeus," he said weakly. Marluxia felt a sudden surge of what he could almost call jealousy.
"Are you all right to take us back?" he asked, keeping his voice even. Zexion nodded, and a moment of confusion later, Marluxia found that he was back in Oblivion, still in the chair Zexion had provided for him. VI's fingers dropped from his face. "Do you need anything?" he inquired, slightly concerned.
"Elaeus," the young Nobody murmured again. "Please, I want Lexaeus."
"I'll fetch him for you," Marluxia promised, standing. He was proud that he only stumbled once or twice on his way to the room where he expected to find Lexaeus and Vexen. The long trip into his and Zexion's memories had tired him, as he had anticipated.
IV and V were indeed where he had expected them to be.
"Zexion needs you," he said to Lexaeus, and the massive man stood and left without a word.
"What have you done to him now?" Vexen sneered. Marluxia gave him his best haughty glare.
"Number Six and I were conducting an experiment which produced unexpected results," he explained, using overly scientific terms for the Academic's benefit.
"You, conduct an experiment?" Vexen snorted, his lips twisting into an amused smirk-grin. "Number Eleven, given your obvious distaste for science, you can't expect me to believe…"
"Forgive me for saying so, Number Four, but I actually don't care whether you believe it or not. Your opinion is irrelevant. You should get used to it," Marluxia said, interrupting him smoothly. The sweep of vicious pleasure he took at the look on Vexen's face was almost enough to banish the shadow of envy.
"Of course," the scientist said through gritted teeth, his gloved hands clenching into fists. "If you'll excuse me, some of us have real research to attend to."
Marluxia stood listlessly as the other swept out. What brief amusement tormenting Vexen had given him was already fading, leaving only discomfort and resentment. It was only natural for Zexion to want Lexaeus, and only Lexaeus, around in his state, but still…
Even as he opened the corridor of darkness back to his rooms, Marluxia could not cast the memory of the boy writhing on the table from his mind.
Ienzo's screams rang in his ears as he stepped into the darkness.
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A/N: D'oh. I couldn't help but sneak in my true loyalty (411 forever! XD)... if you squint...
A couple of words in there and the last bit with Vexen are a tip o' the hat to the wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Silvestris, whose birthday is tomorrow. Google the name. You'll find her and her wonderful Kingdom Hearts (specifically, Organisation XIII) art/fics. :D
Review or Marluxia will nick your knickers!!! XD