"Won't Let Go" and the general concept of "Won't Let Go" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney.
Background: I could never explain, I don't think. It's... poignant and personal in too many ways.
Won't Let Go
by Orin Drake
It's okay to laugh. And it's okay to cry. Sometimes it's okay to do both at the same time... because that's all that can be done in that moment.
It's a cold night, but Riku convinced Sora to venture with him to the island. Maybe "convinced" isn't the right word--more like, Riku ran and Sora followed. Riku hadn't run from him--never really had, truth be told--but the fact he'd run at all meant only that Sora was to follow by necessity. The brunette had faced too many obstacles to give up so easily.
Something had happened. Details did not matter in the least; obviously someone had said or done something with the intent to remind Riku of the darker portions of his past... that was enough to go on. Sora finds the older boy slumped against the wall, just inside the Secret Place, and so many things within them both ache.
Some people would likely tell Sora to stop following. To let Riku go off by himself because he ran so damn often that it was clear he wanted to be on his own. That maybe he liked manipulating Sora by making him follow. But the younger Keyblade Master knew better than those who spoke too freely of things they could never hope--nor want--to understand.
Sora wraps his arms around Riku's quivering form. Others would be afraid of the action, afraid they'd get punched in the face or drawn and quartered by a Keyblade. As others should be cautious--but not Sora. Never Sora.
Holding Riku is like trying to hold a wild, scared and foaming animal in his hands--hands that are already scarred by teeth and claws and endless kinds of tangible pain as the creature panicked and struggled and blindly tried to get away because that was the only instinct that broke the surface. But it's... it's so much deeper than that. The wild thing in his grasp does not have any intent to harm--it merely has no other recourse. It knows not what to do with its own emotions, with the gifts it's been given. Riku is a beautiful creature, of splendor and grace... but he cannot believe that of himself. He stumbles and then blames himself until he falls.
Sora can feel his own shoulders start to shake with the thought. No matter his reassurances, or Kairi's, or the countless thankful that had learned of Riku's part in Sora's awakening... the silver-haired boy remained a little damaged. Cracked, but not broken. And Sora knew that sometimes... that was almost far worse.
Riku finally reaches up to wrap his arms around Sora's, feeling a fool to be crying. Again. He knows he's supposed to be strong and solid, supposed to be a man. But all he feels is that cocky little boy he may have once been, completely beaten by the Darkness he tried to control. Someone who has no right to be around those that he loves... those that he tried to hurt, once upon a time.
And Sora knows. He can't put it into words, but he knows. Somehow holding each other is enough. Maybe not forever, but for now... for this moment... it's the holding on that's the most important thing. Holding on. And Sora lets a few tears come. He cries because it hurts to remember, sometimes. But he laughs and he smiles because of everything they managed to hold on to. And regardless of the pain--regardless of those moments of brilliantly blinding hatred that he will never admit even to himself--he'd never wish it to have been any other way. The wild creature in his arms may well one day maul him with a panic risen higher than ever before... but he is this creature's to tear apart. And this creature is still his to hold. He won't let go.