Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. This is a not-for-profit fanwork.
**This chapter features a character experiencing the aftermath of a trauma, and as such, might be disturbing or triggering to some.**
XXIII.
Trauma
"I'm so sorry, Nine." An hour later and Ienzo was still apologizing. Half of it was because he was dazed himself, sapped of energy, and feverish to the touch. Even had found them both and corralled them into his lab.
Demyx felt strangely numb. Even had given him a wet washcloth, which was supposed to be for his face, but it was more comforting to hold in his hand. His mouth was dry.
"You are both idiots," Even hissed. "Why on earth would you do this without consulting me first? Ienzo. This is unlike you. Especially because your own power is still so fragile."
Demyx was only half listening. He lifted up the wash cloth and placed it over his eyes. He was sitting in a chair, a soft one. He tried to confront the word, in his head, but it wouldn't come.
"Hold this against your face," Even continued to Ienzo. "Don't make me have to cool you."
Footsteps. Demyx couldn't move. Even touched his shoulder.
"Could I get you something? Some juice, perhaps? Are you hungry?"
"No," he said hoarsely.
"Maybe some medicine? Do you still have a headache? Something to help you sleep?" The false saccharine in his voice made Demyx feel sicker.
"You're only being nice to me because he told you," Demyx snapped. The wash cloth flopped off his face. A lush, shattering dryness loomed inside of him.
Even didn't flinch. He came back with a glass of ice water. "You're dehydrated."
"I don't care."
"Nine, I don't want to have to sedate you."
"No, do it." His voice caught and he was crying again, suddenly and without warning. "Please. I don't want to think."
Even rubbed his back for a moment in smooth, rhythmic motions. "I'm sorry you had to remember this way. Believe me, Ienzo and I will have a talk."
"He was trying to help," he said thickly. "He really was." It was all starting to make sense, the thick fear. "I want to take a bath."
"I'm not sure you should be alone right now."
"Please. I feel so…" Half-seen fragments of the memory stabbed at him. He curled his knees to his chest. "When will it go away?"
"It'll probably feel more like a memory in a few days. But… this isn't an average memory. I don't know. Let me get you something to eat."
"I don't want—" But Even was already gone.
Several hours of numbness. After he had eaten—and thrown up—dinner, Even put him to bed, giving him more pills. Through a hazy wave of tranquilizer, he looked out the window. He said the word once, softly, to himself, and pulled the blanket above his head.
A few days passed like this. For the first two, they let him lie in. Aeleus brought food; Even chattered idly about the weather. After that, they started asking—first kindly, and then more adamantly—that he leave the room. "It would do you some good to get you out of there," Even said.
Silence. It was easier not to speak, to feign sleep.
On the fourth day after, the door opened and he hid under the covers. It was hot under here, but safer. He waited for Even's voice, or Dilan's, telling him to get the fuck out of bed. He heard shoes—pretty heavy shoes—on the floor, then silence. Metal set against the chair. He still was numb.
Yuffie slid into bed next to him. He already knew the feel of her body against his, and her smell. She kissed the back of his neck.
For a long time neither of them spoke; she just held him. He wondered how she had known. He started to cry again, though for the first time in days it felt like relief. He turned to face her. "You came," he said.
"I was worried."
"Did they tell you?"
"Only bits and pieces." She wiped at the tears. "I had sort of thought so."
"I'm sorry."
"It's completely okay." She leaned against his collarbone. "I thought you would smell, after so many days in bed."
"It helps when I take a bath." He still didn't feel clean. He wasn't sure he would for a while.
Silence. He could feel her heartbeat. "I think I might have accidentally started caring about you," she said after a minute. "Sorry."
He laughed, still crying.
"I'll stay here with you for a while," she said. "As long as you need."
And she did.
It took nearly a week for him to get back towards normal. Yuffie helped; she drew him out of bed and back out into town, running all sorts of weird and unnecessary errands. He was still shaken—the world looked a little different, colder. If the others noticed the time they were spending together, they didn't comment on it, for which he was grateful.
Lea returned one day at the very beginning of July, battered and bruised, with a spectacular black eye. His cloak was torn at the bottom, and his hair was frazzled and limp. "Honey, I'm home," he said dryly when he returned to the castle. He started raiding the pantry in the kitchen absently, and Demyx didn't have the heart to stop him. "Listen. After they interrogate me, I'm getting fucking hammered. You're free to join."
"That bad?" He asked.
"I'm exhausted," Lea said. "I forgot how shitty recon work is."
"You don't have to tell me," he said. "Better that than anything else, though."
He shrugged and started heating a can of soup in the palm of his hand. "So what's been going on around here?"
Demyx paused. "…Not much."
"Right. Sure."
"Really. I mean it. It's been pretty boring."
Lea rolled his eyes. He started eating with a spork he'd been carrying in his pocket. "My place. Later. I'm going to see the eggheads."
Getting drunk did sound appealing.
Maybe that was what he needed; to get smashed out of his mind. It might make him feel better.
So he did go to Lea's. Demyx found him there, in casual clothes, smoking, perched precariously on a pile of stone. "What a look," he said dryly.
Lea shrugged. "Feels good on my back." He jumped down and stretched. "I'm getting old."
"You're not even thirty."
He gestured vaguely. "I'm guessing you haven't done much upkeep on your training."
"I did with Aeleus, a little bit. But I got sidetracked."
Lea appraised him silently. "They said something happened to you, and to be delicate, yadda yadda. I didn't want to put much stock in it."
He flinched. He could feel the memory threatening to rise in him and he clamped down on it. "Ienzo was getting me ready to leave. It didn't go well."
"I don't want to talk about work," he said. "Enough of that."
The living room, the mugs, the absurdly strong alcohol. Demyx drank slowly; he wanted to see if he would ramble again. He didn't want Lea to know everything. "So was it bad?" He asked. "The questioning?"
"I gave them everything I knew. It still wasn't enough. The risk, blah blah. Sora, blah blah." He kept smoking, steadily, one after the other. Demyx was vaguely jealous. "But they're kinda amateurish. The New Organization, I mean. Or else they were really comfortable letting me spy on them."
"More amateurish than we were?" he asked.
"Surprising, right? It seemed kind of… frantic. They didn't have a whole lot of time. I didn't ever really go inside, and I didn't see much, but I did see them running around, and the Nobodies were still hobbling around too. It looks like he wants to control them. They seem kind of drugged. I called an Assassin, just to see what it would do, if it would respond. It kind of did." He gestured to a still-healing scar on his arm. "Even thinks they might have used the same break tactics on the Nobodies that they might have used on all of you. You have to admit it makes sense." He groaned. "Talk about something, please. I'm sick of this crap."
"…I haven't got much," Demyx said. "So were there still Dancers?"
"A few. There weren't a whole lot of Nobodies in general; Sora took care of that. They were about the same. Plenty of Berserkers and Snipers, though." He whistled. "I saw him, you know. He didn't see me."
"…Isa?"
"Yep. Rat bastard. Stupid smug expression on his face. I wanted to hit him, I really did. But I showed restraint. I'm an observer, after all. You were always better at it than me. I always wanted to get involved."
"It was easier, to watch," Demyx said. "It still is."
Lea offered him a cigarette, finally. "…You want to talk about it?" He asked.
"No," he said. "I really don't."
"That's fair. I figure I'd offer."
"Thanks," he said. This cigarette was far better than any one of Cid's, and he focused on the head rush.
"I heard something else," Lea said. "I don't know if you'll like it, though."
He didn't know what it could be. "What is it?"
"I heard stupid kids gossiping. They like me, you know. I'm cool now, apparently." He smiled. "But anyway, they said you and Yuffie."
"We what," he said blankly, trying to be casual.
"I figured there wasn't anything in it. It was a dumb rumor. Not many people around, when two people start hanging out, it seems like there's only one way it will go."
He shrugged.
"How long," Lea asked bluntly.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Haven't had to tell a lie in a while, huh? You've gotten pretty bad at it."
He exhaled smoke. "Why do you even care?"
"Because it's not boring and it's something to talk about."
"…A few weeks, I guess," he said. "Don't tell anyone. I'm still kind of fucked up."
"Your secret's safe with me." Lea leaned back against the couch. He laughed. "I should have bet money on it. Could've won something from Cid."
"You guys had a bet?"
"Not really. We thought it might be funny. Oh boy. She really hated you for a while. Strange how that happens."
He chuckled. It had felt surprisingly good to finally admit it. It made it real. "I'm not… in love, or anything," he said. "But it's nice."
"I'm sure." Lea's expression darkened. "Though I'm not sure how entrenched you should get yourself here."
He tapped the excess ash off in a tray. "I'm tired of being by myself. Or a tool, for some eventual plans. I like… being a person." He took a long drink, forgetting the promise he'd made himself earlier. Combined with the taste of nicotine, the alcohol was that much harder to get down.
"We don't get to be people," Lea said sharply. "Not yet."
He was right, of course. "I just want the summer," Demyx said. "Just the summer. And then I'll do whatever. Ship me off. Have them torture me. I'll try my best to bring back what I can. Let me have this one thing."
"I never said you couldn't," Lea said. "You're an adult. You want to get hurt, it's up to you."
True blue July. The air got, if possible, hotter. He started getting painfully sunburned and had to smear a musty-smelling salve on his skin. Now that Lea was back, he was kicking Demyx's ass even harder in training. He'd improved; to the point where Lea ended up with a gash in his thigh that would have been impressive if the sight of blood hadn't made Demyx faint.
Even, Aeleus, and Lea started splitting his time evenly. Even insisted that they start training his powers again. Aeleus first started showing up to his sessions with Lea, under the pretense of training alongside him, but he was soon just as harsh. Between the three of him he was constantly sore and exhausted and stretched thin. He needed to be back in fighting shape, as close as he could get to when he'd been a Nobody. It was working, he could tell. At least the exhaustion kept him from thinking. He told himself that repeatedly as he tried to drag himself out of bed.
Curiously, though, Ienzo was avoiding him. Demyx was secretly glad. He couldn't imagine what else Ienzo might accidentally trigger.
So he spent his free time, what little he had of it, with Yuffie. Alone. Along Aerith or Leon or even Cid. He was sure they had to suspect something but was almost beyond caring. It was worth the embarrassment to have an afternoon feeling like an average human, making out, talking errantly and pretending the inevitable would never come.
Time passed. Time passed much too quickly. He could see it in the way his hair was growing, in the way the fit of his clothes changed, the way the sunburn gave way to a hesitant tan. Summer would have to end eventually.