"Victim interrogation: Roxas DuPont. Age: 17. Height: 5'4". Weight: 115 lbs. Kidnap victim. Open for alteration." The mean-looking FBI agent turned the tape recorder off and looked up at Roxas, who was staring numbly at the table. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, his deep blue eyes having a cold, shallow look to them.
"Are you ready to begin?" He asked. Despite his rough appearance, his voice was soft. His dark brown dreadlocks hung neatly down to his mid-back, pulled up in a tight ponytail, dark skin nicely contrasted by his light clothes.
Roxas glanced up slowly and blinked a few times, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry. It seems I've forgotten your name. Could you tell me again?" His voice was soft, void of emotion. Too quiet.
"You can call me Detective--"
"No, I would like your first name too, please." Roxas interrupted him, but the manner with which he did it was so politely detached the law officer had no choice but to answer him.
"Xaldin." He said.
Roxas raised an eyebrow. "No last name?"
"I feel like you're trying to distract me." Xaldin muttered. "Would you like to do this another time, or are you sure you're ready to do it now?"
Roxas stared at him blankly for a moment, and Xaldin had to repress a chill. He had been told that there was something not quite right about this kid before the interrogation had begun; that he had been through something extremely traumatic, and would probably be a little off. But this wasn't what he had been preparing for. The emptiness that he saw in Roxas's eyes wasn't fragility, it was calculating. Almost like the kid was staring into your soul.
"I suppose so." He answered after a moment, shifting in his chair and leaning forward on the table on his elbows and supporting his head with his hands. "But first, may I ask you something?"
Xaldin sighed and sat back, and a sly smile worked its way onto Roxas's face. "Sure. What is it now?"
"Have you ever been in love?" The smile disappeared as soon as the words were out of the blonde's mouth, and Xaldin blinked for a moment before he chuckled. The kid couldn't be serious, could he?
"I um…I don't know. I assume it's the kind of thing that'll make itself known once it happens. Why, have you?" Of course he hasn't. He's only a kid. Even as the words echoed through Xaldin's train of thought, he felt an uneasiness about him. The way that kid looked at him. It was eerie.
"I have, actually." Roxas's tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "And it didn't make itself known at first. It took me a while to realize what was going on. So if I were you, I'd stay on the look out in case you're actually interested in finding someone."
"Alrighty…" Xaldin crossed his arms after tossing the file down on the table between them, but Roxas's eyes didn't deviate from the other's face once. "Are you ready to--"
"Do you have any idea how close you were to finding me?" Roxas interrupted again. His tone was curious, eyes dead. The kind of look that could send chills down anyone's spine, be it the most practiced attorney or the druggie down the street.
"I do, actually." Xaldin answered. He was starting to get irritated, and it was plain on his face. He could've sworn he saw a spark of satisfaction in Roxas's eye, but the moment it appeared it was gone. "We were so close, we actually found you."
At this, Roxas actually laughed. But it was a bitter laugh; the kind of laugh one never wanted to hear if it was directed towards them. "You didn't find me. Someone told you where I was. I mean actually finding me."
"Care to enlighten me?"
"One of your state troopers." Roxas answered, leaned back again and mimicked Xaldin's position. His scrawny arms, however, didn't have nearly the intimidating affect that Xaldin's muscular arms did. His pose was eerie, just like his stare. "He pulled us over. Of course, he had stolen the car and they guy's license, stuck a picture of himself in there…nothing was suspicious."
"We're not in control of the State Police--"
"Oh please. It's all part of one big government conspiracy. You all play for the same team, regardless of what you call yourselves or what your shield says." Roxas sighed and closed his eyes, cracked his knuckles. Xaldin watched him for a moment, about to speak about three different times but decided the better of it.
"Do you have any idea what it's like, being kidnapped?" Roxas asked softly, and Xaldin glanced up in surprise. They had been silent for much longer than he had initially realized; about twenty minutes.
"I…well, studies say--"
"I don't give a fuck what the studies say." Roxas snapped, glaring. "If you've never been kidnapped you have no idea what it's like. So, have you ever been kidnapped?"
Xaldin's mouth worked in framing words that wouldn't translate into sounds before he finally gave up and shook his head. "No. No I haven't."
"Well it isn't fun." Roxas's tone had gone from flat to bitter, and he was now crossing his arms and staring at Xaldin intently. "Where are my parents?"
"They should be on the other side of that glass." Thankful for the change of subject, the FBI agent pointed to the two-way mirror and smiled reassuringly. "If you want, I can--"
"I want them to leave." Roxas said immediately, his expression set. "They don't need to hear what I'm about to tell you."
"Well, policy says--"
"Get me a lawyer. I don't care. Whatever you need to do to get them away from here." Roxas glanced at the mirror before turning his attention back to Xaldin. "This isn't a happy story."
Xaldin blinked. He glanced at the mirror as well, and could hear his captain tap on the glass signaling for him to come out. "Can you excuse me for a moment?"
"Do I have a choice?"
--
The tall blonde lawyer sat down next to Roxas, pulling random papers out of his briefcase and clearing his throat. "Alright mister…?
He glanced at Xaldin, awaiting a response, but all he got was a blank stare. Roxas snorted and put his feet up on the table separating them, arms crossed. The blonde attorney blinked for a moment or two before he began speaking again.
"Very well, then. My name is Luxord, and as you probably know I will be representing the young Mr. DuPont."
"Are we ready to start or not?" Xaldin barked. "This kid's been wasting my time for the last two and a half hours. I've got a life, and I'd rather enjoy living it sometime in the near future."
Luxord glanced at Roxas, who glanced back, then nodded. "I believe my client has a pretty good idea of what he's willing to tell you."
"What he's willing to tell me?" Xaldin snorted. "He's a victim! What wouldn't he want to tell me."
"There are certain aspects of his captivity that he feels don't need to be shared with you." Luxord replied matter-of-factly, straightening his tie as well as his posture. "If you can come to grips with that fact, I think we might be ready to begin."
Roxas smirked and nodded approvingly at Luxord, who placed his briefcase on the floor beside his chair and waited for his client to begin speaking. The shorter of the two blondes sighed and glanced up at the ceiling, letting his gaze linger on the flickering overhead light.
"For starters," He began. "You're going to want to change that beginning statement to kidnap, rape, and domestic violence victim."
"Domestic violence?"
Roxas chuckled. "Do you find it so hard to believe that I grew comfortable around my captor, detective?"
"I do, as a matter of fact."
"I suggest you do a little reading up on Stockholm Syndrome, then."
"Well, in any event, please continue."
Roxas shrugged. "It's not a good story, but it's a short one. I was taken about two neighborhoods away from my school, about three or so blocks from my gated community. My captor offered me a car, I liked the car, he offered me a ride, so I got in. I told him where I live, even though I'm sure he already knew.
"He passed the turn for my house, and when I asked him where we were going he didn't answer me. We got a motel. He got me knew clothes, colored contacts. When he found out that his partners in crime wouldn't be joining him because they backed out, he got really pissed off and decided he wanted to rape me.
"Of course, I resisted at first, which would usually end in the occasional beating. After a while I got used to the rape, had to keep reminding myself not to fight back because it would only end in far more pain than I was already in."
Roxas stopped, took a deep breath. Naturally, Xaldin and Luxord thought, rightly so, that he was closing his eyes trying to remember. But what they didn't know what how hard Roxas had to fight to keep tears from spilling down his face. How, in recounting the story, he could see Axel doing all of those things to him. His Axel had, once upon a time, hurt him.
"We moved around a lot." He continued, opening his eyes. "Petoskey, some place in Nebraska, Chicago. You found me in Florida…"
"And what kind of things happened here? Did he go to these places for any specific reason?"
Roxas shrugged. "To get away from the police, I guess. He never met up with anyone…except for this one hooker he used. He was a fag, you know, so he hired this male prostitute to come in and satisfy him when apparently raping me wasn't good enough."
Roxas was dying as he told the rest of the story, Xaldin and Luxord both watching him in horror. Naturally, however, he had to exaggerate some facts. He had to leave out all of Axel's affectionate kisses, all of Axel's loving caresses, all of Axel's tender hugs. He finished a good two hours later, the story finally ending when the FBI found him in Florida. He had conveniently forgotten how much Axel loved him, how much Axel cared, about the note, about the things that Roxas still kept a secret…
"Now Roxas," Xaldin said, blinking. "I'm going to ask you a very difficult question. If you can't answer it, that's fine. Are you ready?"
"Shoot."
"Do you know the man who did these things to you?"
Roxas almost felt like laughing. His shoulders visibly shook with his silent laughter, and he nodded. "Of course. He only reminded me about a million times."
"What's his name?"
Roxas paused for a second, lips parted, as though he was thinking very hard about something. Finally he answered, "Reno. Reno Russo."
--
"Sora, please." Roxas's mother placed her hands on the brunette's shoulders, looking at him earnestly. "He won't talk to any of us…at this point, I think you're the only one who might be able to break through to him. This could very well be a life or death situation for him."
Sora bit his lip, still hesitating, before he nodded. "Okay, Mrs. DuPont. I'll talk to him if you want me to."
She smiled and kissed Sora on the forehead as though he were her own son, nodding. "Good boy. Thank you so much, Sora."
The teen began ascending the spiral staircase after that, all the up to the loft, all the way up to Roxas's door. It was interesting how the staircase came to an end right in front of the door; there wasn't a hallway or anything. There was a very horror-movie like aspect to the set up, which didn't really surprise Sora. Roxas had always been into that kind of stuff.
He walked up to the door and smiled softly, knocking lightly. "Rox? It's me. It's Sora."
"Go away." The reply came, but it was muffled. Not muffled enough to hide how broken Roxas's voice sounded, though. Sora sighed and shook his head, blinked a few times.
"Come on, Rox." When he didn't receive any reply, he gave a resigned sigh and opened the door slowly. Roxas was kneeling down by his closet, and Sora could hear him whimpering softly, holding something black up to his face.
"How's my Roxy Snuggle Baby?" The brunette asked, a smile coming to his lips at the old pet name. However, at the sound of his nickname Roxas let out something that sounded like a hiss, and glanced at Sora out of his peripheral vision.
"Don't call me that ever again."
Sora blinked, slightly taken aback by the blonde's harsh tone, before he knelt down next to Roxas and put a hand on his shoulder. "Rox--"
"Get. Away. From. Me." Roxas continued to glare, but before the words had even taken affect Sora had caught sight of the black thing in Roxas's hands. It was a t-shirt, and it was way too big to belong to the blonde. It said, 'Fuck me, I'm Italian.' and it had a picture of a shirtless Italian leering on the front.
"Rox, who's shirt is that?"
Roxas sighed and pressed his nose in the soft, gentle fabric that welcomed him as warmly as Axel's arms once had. It still smelled strongly of the redhead, treasured memories flooding into Roxas's mind as soon as the smell registered in his mind. "Leave me alone."
"It's his, isn't it?" Sora gasped in shock. "You took that from the guy who stole you away from me!"
"Sora!" Roxas shouted at him, tore his face from one of the only relics he had that reminded him of Axel, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. "Don't do this. Please. I…" He sighed, shook his head. "I still care about you, and if you do this you'll only be hurting yourself."
"Get rid of it." Sora hissed. He tried to grab it away from the blonde, but Roxas shielded the t-shirt with his body, whimpering softly as it was torn at.
"Don't touch it."
Sora laughed disbelievingly and stood up, marching over to the door. "If you don't get rid of that thing, I'm going to tell you parents that you have it."
"Go ahead. See if I care." Roxas's face was buried in the fabric once more, and his eyes were closed, a perfect picture of Axel's face forming in his mind. "It's not going to change anything."
--
As Sora was halfway out the front door, well on his way to his car, Roxas's mother stopped him. "Sora? How did it go? What's wrong?"
The brunette turned and glared at her, tears streaming down his face. "He's your son. Why don't you ask him?"
A/N: Mkay. So...I don't really like this chapter. It's too short in comparison to the last one. But it had to happen. I mean, Roxy implicated Reno instead of Axel (sexy, hot, adorable Axel) which is important for the next chapter, and Sora caught him snarfing Axel's old t-shirt. Which is also important. 'Cuz they are NO MOAR! D
Anyway. Yes. The next chapter will be the trial, and my parents are lawyers so I'm going to be using coutroom lingo. Not that fancy, condensed version of law and order, people. It's gonna be the real shebang. So....yay? xD Then...THE EPICLOGUE! 8D I think I'm going to do it in three parts, considering that that's the only way it'll make sense to me. They're not going to be as long as chapters, but they'll be a little...you know...different. xP
Can you guise believe it's almost over? I don't want this to end! D8 I remembered getting my first reviews, and there were like...twenty of them. I was like...'Damn. This might actually be popular.' xDDD So for all of you guise who have been with me from the very beginning and will be with me until the very end, you're all amazing. I love you so much. You made Amber happen. ^^
Once it is finally over, I plan on starting a new fic immediately after. It might take a few days, but I have a million ideas that've been festering in my head for the last few...month. xD So I'm really looking forward to getting them on paper. But just to know which one should go first...would you guise rather see Axel as a creepy step-dad (lemons galore!) or as a dance rehab teacher (lemons, fluff, less angst than the first one)? Lemme know!
~Sara