A/N: Second last chapter!

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Real.

Roxas' eyes opened slowly the next morning; he groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. The effects of the sleeping medication the nurses forced him to take the night before were still hovering over him; he could feel the drowsiness threatening to take over his body and there was a dull aching at the back of his head. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and set his bare feet on the cold linoleum floor, and he rubbed his face with his hands.

"Did you sleep?" He raised his tousled blond head and eyed his brother, who was standing a few feet away from him, "Did those meds help you?" He sounded concerned, but Roxas knew it was just a cover.

"Sora, don't act like you care," He spat as he rose to his feet; his knees felt weak for some reason and he held onto the bedpost for support, "Because I know you don't." He groaned as the aching in his head worsened. "Why didn't you listen to Xion? She said to leave me alone!"

"Xion? Don't you mean you?" The brunet laughed darkly, "We're figments of your imagination, remember? There's a reason why you're stuck here wearing those clothes!"

Right on cue their half-sister materialized beside Roxas; she placed a hand on his shoulder, and her touch felt so real he wasn't even sure if he was imagining it anymore. "I'm really sorry, Roxas," She apologized; her blue eyes were solemn, "I would've never wanted this to happen to you."

He smiled his best for her, and he hesitantly raised his hand to place it on top of hers. He knew it really wasn't there, but it felt so real. "I know, Xion, but this is the way things are and I'm gonna have to find a way to work around it."

"Aw, c'mon Roxas - you can't just forget about us, if that's what you're implying," Sora crossed his arms, "Admit it - even though this was all just a part of your big make-believe game we had fun!"

"It was only fun because I thought you guys were really there," The blond growled as his hands clenched into fists, "None of you were nice enough to tell me that I was just playing around with my imaginary brother and sister!"

"Well it's not like we could tell you," The brunet countered, "We're part of your imagination - you didn't know we weren't real, so we didn't either."

"But you do now," Roxas raised an eyebrow, "And you seemed to know when I went up to my room after I found out."

"That's because we weren't 'with' you when Ansem and Mom and Mrs. Yamagata told you," Xion explained, "We were, I guess, stowed away in your head - then when you went up to your room we came out again."

"Is there anything that triggers your appearances?" Roxas asked wearily; he knew he was wasting his time talking to himself, but at the same time he knew he was the only one who could answer his questions, "I mean, do I have to feel a certain way or something to see you guys?"

"Beats me," Sora shrugged, "We're not the ones with made-up alter-egos."

"Roxas," All three siblings' heads turned towards the door; a nurse was standing impatiently with her arms crossed, "It's time to wash up for the morning."

"Okay." He gave his brother and sister one last wary look before following the woman out of the room and down a few hallways towards the baths. At least she gave him privacy in the shower - the last thing he needed right now was to be constantly supervised like he was unable to do anything on his own. He was sane enough to keep up his personal hygiene, thank you.

Once he changed into a new set of white clothes the nurse approached him again with a small paper cup full of his pills and a bottle of water. He diligently took his medication and sipped at his water, and he made sure to open his mouth and lift his tongue to show the nurse that he really swallowed it all down.

"You're good to go." He gave the nurse a small, grateful grin and shuffled towards the lounge room. Axel, Larxene and Demyx were sitting by the far table as usual.

"Hey Roxas," Larxene simpered as he sat down across from her, "Or are you Sora? No, wait - I think you're Xion."

He groaned and pressed his face into his palms. "Please, Larxene - I'm not in the mood."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Yep - you're Roxas, all right."

"I never saw this coming," Demyx leaned back against his chair and crossed his hands behind his head, "Ansem and those doctors sure are sneaky."

"Now you know why I couldn't help you when you were fighting your 'brother'-" Axel made mock quotation marks with his fingers, "-I didn't know how to help you when you were really just fighting yourself!"

"It's okay, Axel," Roxas muttered through his fingers, "I wouldn't know how to help myself either - I still don't know how to help myself. I'm trying to accept the fact that I am crazy and that I deserve to be here-"

"Don't say that," The musician interrupted, "You're acting as if you're gonna be here for the rest of your life."

"It sure looks like it," The blond sighed, "I mean, I keep seeing them, and I know they're not really there but I'm always compelled to talk to them. I don't know why."

"It's understandable, Roxas," The pyromaniac rubbed the back of his neck, "What you went through - the car accident and everything - it's traumatizing. Any kid would need therapy after that."

"But how could I forget that I got into a car accident that killed my brother and sister?"

"It's usually part of what your mind does and what those therapy sessions did to you," Larxene explained, though she was staring at her nails while she was doing it, "Naturally when you experience something as harrowing as a death of a close one your mind tries to suppress the memory - no one likes to remember painful memories, right? Then your therapist helps to suppress them even more, squeezing them into compact-sized cubes and shoving them in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Overtime you forget, but sometimes it goes a little haywire and it backfires - just like what happened to you."

Roxas heaved another sigh and glanced upwards, eyeing his friends. Axel and Demyx looked concerned while Larxene looked completely unfazed. Behind them he could see the tips of Sora's gravity-defying hair, and he shook his head and blinked furiously in a vain attempt to try and make him disappear. When the brunet stepped out from behind Axel he groaned, but he ignored him. "I-I guess so," The blond mumbled, "But...how am I supposed to get rid of this?"

Demyx gave him a rueful smile. "I wish we could answer that for you."

"Or maybe somebody else can." Axel was smirking at the doorway; everyone turned to see what he was looking at, and when Roxas eyed the small, flaxen-haired girl smiling shyly by the entrance to the lounge Sora immediately vanished into thin air.

"Roxas," Naminé's voice was soft like always, and she drifted over towards them. Instead of sitting on the chair to his right she sat on his lap; the contact made him blush but he shook it off when the scent of her hair wafted into his nostrils. He smiled warmly as she leaned in to wrap her thin arms around his neck, and he buried his face in her shoulder as he hugged her waist. She turned her head away from him to wave at the three young adults sitting on the opposite side of the table, and she smiled diffidently at them when Axel and Demyx (Larxene only gave a curt nod) waved back.

"How are you this morning, Naminé?" The musician asked, "Did you sleep well?"

The smallest blonde shrugged her puny shoulders. "I only got a few hours, but I think I can manage."

Roxas chuckled sadly and pressed his cheek against her collarbone. "You're still doing way better than I am - the only way I can sleep nowadays is if someone gives me a cupful of sleeping pills...if I don't I'll stay up the entire night talking to myself."

"Now that's something I'd like to see." Larxene chuckled, and Axel and Demyx could not help but laugh alongside her. Roxas even chuckled a little bit; if he thought about it in a lighthearted way he could see why it would be entertaining.

The flaxen-haired girl's head tilted to the side a little; the corners of her pale pink mouth were tugging downwards in a frown and her big blue eyes were sad. "So you're not feeling better yet, Roxas?"

He exchanged glances with Axel for a split second before turning back towards her and giving her a sad smile. "No, not yet, Naminé - but I will soon. As long as you're around I'm pretty sure I'll be fine."

Her pallid cheeks were now tinged a slight pink, and everyone laughed. She gave the blond a small smile and pressed her cheek against the side of his head. "Then I'll make sure to be with you as much as I possibly can."

Life as a psychiatric ward patient wasn't very eventful; the five of them spent nearly the entire day in the lounge, trying to find something to do. Naminé kept herself occupied with her crayons and drawings, but the other four were bored out of their minds. Axel, Demyx and Roxas wanted to sneak out into the arts room but there was a nurse patrolling the hallways today, so they couldn't. Larxene even tried wandering around the room, looking for a patient to terrorize but it wasn't fun when they didn't have much of a reaction.

Night finally came and the nurses arrived to usher the unresponsive patients back into their rooms. Axel and the other two young adults bid their farewells to the blondes before going to theirs.

When Roxas stood up Naminé yawned into his shoulder; she lowered her arms to his waist and nuzzled her head against his neck, and he laughed as he squeezed her lovingly. "Are you tired?" When she nodded against him he pecked her temple and guided her towards the door. "Alright, then let's get you to bed."

When they reached her room he tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead. She glanced at him solemnly for a moment, and she reached for his hand. "You're not staying?"

He gave her a contrite smile and delicately kissed her knuckles. "I have to try and get used to this place first, Naminé. When that happens I promise I'll stay with you whenever you want me to."

She nodded slowly and let go of his hand. "Okay." She raised half of her body up on her elbows to peck his cheek. "Goodnight, Roxas."

He affectionately rubbed the skin underneath her eye with his thumb. "Sweet dreams, Naminé." He flicked the light switch off before leaving her room to go to his.

Much to his relief his room was empty, which meant there was a chance he might be able to sleep tonight without the help of sleeping aides. Roxas hesitantly crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over his body and resting his head on the small pillow. He breathed a sigh of relief - so far so good.

He closed his eyes and his body began to relax as fatigue washed over him; his breathing evened out and his pulse slowed as he drifted into unconsciousness. Everything seemed fine for now; he wasn't really dreaming about anything but it wasn't like he wanted to.

Suddenly he found himself sitting in the back seat of a car. It was dark, and rain was sloshing against the glass windows. He heard childish laughter on either side of him; ten-year-old versions of Sora and Xion were chatting animatedly with him, and though it looked like he wasn't responding back they kept talking to him as if he was.

The blond stared straight ahead and spotted the twin headlights flashing in their direction. His brother and sister grew quiet; they could probably see it too.

"Daddy-" Xion croaked, but the lights were moving so quickly she didn't have time to finish her sentence.

The headlights slammed directly into their car; Roxas violently jerked forward but luckily his seatbelt kept him in place. He lurched to the side as the car somehow turned over, and he could feel himself losing equilibrium as the vehicle rolled off of the road and down a steep hill. His brother and sister were screaming beside him; he could faintly hear his father trying to comfort them through his bouts of pain. The blond was being knocked all over the place; he could feel Sora and Xion's heads banging against his as the car continued to roll further and further down the rain-slicked hill, and the seatbelt was pressing against his chest so tightly he feared his ribs were going to crack.

The car finally landed on solid ground, ending the horrific rolling with a loud, painful crash. The windows shattered and the broken bits of glass rained on him, slicing through the skin of his arms and legs. The roof of the car had somehow caved inwards; something must've fallen on top of it. The roar of thunder and the flash of lightning indicated that the storm was still raging onward outside.

He could no longer hear his siblings or his father; he glanced to his left and right and noticed that Sora and Xion were nowhere to be found. He hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and peered forward; his father was unconscious in the drivers' seat, and there was a wide gash sneering at him from the side of his blond head. Roxas could feel his pulse quickening as he hurriedly kicked the car door open; his body was throbbing and the rain was freezing cold against his skin but he didn't care - he needed to find his brother and sister.

He squinted through the endless sheets of rain and found them lying on the ground not too far away from the car; their limbs were twisted and bent in unnatural positions and their skin was ridden with all sorts of abrasions and contusions. Nausea swirled around inside of him and he stumbled into a nearby bush to empty the contents of his stomach. He could smell rain, soil, blood, vomit and gasoline sifting around in the wet air and it made him even more sick. His knees quivered and he sank into the muddy ground, his tired eyes automatically drifting towards his lifeless siblings. His throat tightened as the tears stung his eyes and he clutched the soil and leaves with his ten-year-old fists; they were gone. They were really gone.

They were never coming back.

You broke your promise, Roxas.

You were supposed to go with them.

No. No, no, no.

Stop. St-

"STOP!" Eighteen-year-old Roxas bolted straight up from bed, his eyes flashing and his forehead shiny with sweat. He raced out of his room and down the hallway to the nearest bathroom, shouldering the door open and slouching over the toilet. He vomited violently, clamping his eyes shut as the tears squeezed out from between his eyelids. The image of his dead siblings replayed over and over again in his head and the more he thought of it the more sick he felt.

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Memories of his childhood raced through his mind and it only compelled him to throw up more; he could hear the laughter of his siblings as they raced down the sand, trying to see who would reach the water first. He remembered the birthday parties and the Christmases they spent together, and the day they all promised they'd stick together no matter what.

"Me, you and Xion," Sora had tied a piece of pale pink string to all three of their pinkies, "We're siblings - we stick together forever."

"Closer than best friends," Xion added, jostling her pinky, "We'll never be apart."

"Yeah," He remembered himself agreeing with them, and he even remembered how the end of his pinky was slightly violet because Sora tied the string a little too tight, "No matter what."

Together forever, no matter what.

He flushed the toilet when he was sure he was finished and pressed his cheek against the cool porcelain bowl, resting for a few minutes before standing up on shaky legs and moving towards the sink to rinse his mouth and splash his face with some cold water. He glanced into the mirror and jumped in shock when he found his siblings standing right behind him.

"G-get away-" Roxas backed up against the sink, "-you're not real, you're not really here-"

Sora and Xion didn't say anything; they merely stood there with blank expressions on their faces. It only frightened the blond even more.

"Get away!" He burst through them, shoving past them and dashing out of the bathroom. He stumbled onto the floor, grimacing as his body slammed against the hard linoleum but he scrambled back onto his feet and resumed running. He could hear the groaning of the car rolling against the pavement in his ears, and the high-pitched screaming of him and his siblings. He clutched his head in his hands as he ran further down the hallway, and more tears flowed down his cheeks. "It's in my head, it's not real, it's not real…"

When he made his way back to his room Sora and Xion were there again, sitting on the edge of his bed. Their faces were still eerily expressionless, and Roxas felt his heartbeat quicken as he backed up against the wall.

"What do you want from me?!" He demanded, his voice high and cracking, "Why can't you just leave me alone? You're dead - you're not really here! You died eight years ago! You're not supposed to be here! You're dead!"

He could hear shuffling from outside; he was waking up the other patients. Feeling cornered Roxas sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands, sobbing like a helpless child. He could hear Sora and Xion approaching him slowly, and his shoulders began to tremble. He glanced at the floor through the spaces between his fingers and choked on a sob when he found their shadows looming over him.

"It's all in my head," He murmured to himself as he began to rock back and forth, "It's all in my head - they're not real, they're gone, they're dead...they're not here…"

He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and he twitched violently, falling onto his bottom and backing into a corner. "Don't touch me!" He growled, turning away so that his cheek was pressed against the white wall; he covered his face with his hands. "You're not real! Don't touch me!"

"Roxas…?" A soft voice called out to him, and his blue eyes popped open. Naminé was crouching right in front of him with her hands on her knees; her white-blonde head was tilted to the side and her big blue eyes were rimmed with tears. It was easy to see that she was worried about him.

He quickly glanced behind her and noticed his brother and sister had disappeared. His eyes flitted back towards her angel's face, and he laughed through his tears. "Naminé," He reached out towards her, placing his hands on her sides and pulling her onto his lap, "Oh, Naminé...I'm so glad you're here."

She held him close to her and stroked his hair, and his trembling ceased little by little. "I'm real," She whispered into his ear, "I'm real, Roxas. You're not imagining anything."

He pulled back a little to smile at her. He reached upwards to wipe her tears away before he got rid of his own. "I know you are," He chuckled as he craned his neck upwards to touch her forehead with his, "You're the most real thing in this room."

She smiled and moved to stand up; she grabbed his hands and pulled him up with her. He closed his eyes as she reached upwards to cradle his face in her small, pallid hands, and he leaned into her palm. "Do you need help sleeping, Roxas?" Her voice was quiet, delicate and beautiful - it always was.

"Yes," He sighed as he opened his eyes, "But I don't want to take any more medicine." He pulled her in and nuzzled his head against hers. "I just want to be with you."

She smiled and nodded against him. "Me too." She pulled him over to his bed and crawled onto the mattress; he followed her and draped the sheets over their bodies. When she nestled close against him and pressed her face against his neck he closed his eyes again; his fingers grazed the skin of her shoulder and he reveled in its softness, and when she sighed against him he sighed too. The scent of her hair and the feeling of her heart beating against his hand was enough to lull him to sleep, and he hugged her close to him.

This was real. It was as real as real could get, and he didn't want anything more.

"I think I might need you more often than I thought, Naminé," He chuckled sheepishly against her hair, "You're better than any pill or needle."

"That's fine with me," She mumbled drowsily against his shirt, "I can easily say the same thing about you."

He smiled and hugged her even closer to him, rubbing circles on her back and kissing her forehead. He no longer felt the lingering presence of his brother and sister hovering in the room - he never did when Naminé was around.

Maybe there was more to mental illness than clipboards, thick textbooks and pointless tests; he probably didn't even need to down a cupful of pills every morning and afternoon. Maybe there wasn't even such a thing as 'being normal' - maybe it was only a term coined by people to make them feel better about themselves. Who could define 'normal', anyway? It was such a vague term - anybody could twist it to fit their own description. Maybe the entire world was insane and people just didn't want to admit it.

Maybe the only thing he needed all this time was the small girl sleeping soundly in his arms.

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A/N: I got the therapist idea from the book/movie Girl, Interrupted.