CHAPTER NINE
Keyblades. Keyblades were good.
It was eleven-thirty, and Roxas' parents were asleep. The good thing about their tiring days was that they were always in bed by ten, and both of them slept like rocks. Roxas was fully dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt and a black zip-up sweater. Outside, it was raining. Clouds had developed, as if pulled by the magnetic force of Roxas' burning misery, and the world had turned to water. It drummed against the tiles of the roof, the noise hissing in through the open window.
He moved quickly, efficiently, emotionlessly, pulling on shoes over thick socks. He stood, holding Axel's note in his hand, looking at it one last time before tucking it into his pocket with a sense of finality.
His eyes flicked to the clock, making certain he wasn't running late – that wouldn't do at all. No. He wouldn't want Axel wondering where he was…
Keyblades.
Roxas carefully exited his room, padding quietly down the hall, down the stairs, into the kitchen. He unlocked the door to the garage and slipped through. The air was cold and dry, the noise from above louder than ever. He crept cautiously past the cars, to the back of the room where a series of shelves had been bolted to the wall. A lifetime of detritus was packed along every spare inch of storage space. Somewhere in amongst all the junk lay two oversized keys. His dad had made them in high school, the first in his junior year, the second in his senior. He had earned the highest grade in his metalwork class, and had even presented one of them, which he named Oathkeeper, to Roxas' mom on their wedding day.
They weren't exactly made with combat in mind – his dad just really liked keys, collected them, kept them in a box – but in a pinch, they'd work. Hell, they could at least bludgeon.
As he dug through the mess, seeking them out, Roxas slowed at one point. Was this what he wanted to do? Did he want to really hurt Axel?
His rage answered him: yes. Perhaps he wouldn't end up using them, but he would take the keys with him, and if nothing else, give the redhead enough of a fright to teach him to never fuck with Roxas again. He wanted to inflict something. His dreams had all been shattered by that one slender, white hand. The least Roxas could do was mangle it up a little.
He found them, fingers touching cold metal. Drawing them out, careful not to make any undue noise, they clanged together lightly, letting out a dull ring. Roxas held them up, muscles hardening with the weight. Get enough swing behind them, and they could do real damage.
Again, just for a moment, something flashed in his conscience, shivering weakly.
It was obliterated.
Roxas straightened, resting a keyblade on each shoulder, their ornate designs making them beautiful to behold even after all these years. The teeth were the cause for the name his father had given, fashioned with an edge. A few times, growing up, Roxas had played with them. There were chips in the paint from when he was ten, and, using both arms to lift one, managed to cut down a small tree.
He shifted back into the kitchen, let the door swing shut and lock automatically, briefly blocking out the hammering against the roof. He passed through the house, and exited into the street.
For a long minute, he stood staring at the endless sheet of drops shooting through the illumination of the streetlight, silver needles bulleting to earth, smashing upon impact, dying violently and becoming part of a whole.
Axel was out here, in this. He would be waiting.
Roxas left the shelter of the overhang, wet in an instant, keyblades hanging an inch off the ground. Eyes blinked slowly through the fluid streaming down from his hair, wetting his clothing through and through, slicking everything extraneous against the curves of his body. His steps were even and steady, through puddles, across mud, his thoughts already casting ahead, hovering at the clock tower, waiting for his flesh to catch up.
He wasn't sure at which point the rain became tears, but eventually he became aware of the warmth. Axel's note was falling apart in his pocket.
Love, Axel.
He headed uptown, renewing his grip on the keyblades. The station appeared, dark and empty, the tower above it stretching high. Roxas halted, head tilting back, rain abating slightly, enough for him to wipe his vision clear, push the soggy locks of blond away.
Again, irritatingly, he faltered. Why couldn't he just go home? Why couldn't he consign this night to the ages, forget it as the part of his life which was almost the biggest mistake he'd ever made? The voices in Roxas' head didn't want to hurt the redhead. He had hurt the blond, hurt him terribly – he and Naminé had irrevocably broken some vital part of the teen, more than just his trust – but that didn't mean… he didn't want to stoop… it didn't need to be like this…
The coldness in his heart told the voices otherwise, muffled them, smothered them under the humiliating thought of Axel with Naminé all this time, bending Roxas to his will in such a sickeningly short amount of time. That took talent, which Roxas' cold heart intended to repay.
He took the steps steadily, one after another, not rushing, not taking his time, just trudging up, and up, and up, one foot and the next, in a tight, square spiral. His muscles tightened, hands adjusting slightly on the handles of the keyblades, drawing them up higher, the storm within growing darker the closer he got to the top.
As he reached the doorway, he slowed, drawing in a careful breath, chin tucking down, eyes fixing instantly on the black-clad figure standing at the edge of the wall, long coat, hood pulled up obscuring the wild hair, elbows angled out as the hands rested in coat-pockets, undeniably Axel in every inch of his posture. His position was pensive, watching the rain develop and peter from this eyrie in the sky. Roxas' shoe scraped as he stepped forward, alerting the redhead. He turned, and for the first time in nearly four days, Roxas was graced with those green eyes, slivers of red framing the narrow, handsome face. The lips softened and smiled, a trembling expression. He took a step toward the blond. "So, you came, then."
Roxas snapped.
He lunged forward, keyblades swinging high, ready to bring down on the cruel man's shoulder, a pained grunt the loudest sort of scream he could manage as he tried to injure the one person who had caused him more destruction than he had ever known could exist.
He swiped downward, teeth clenched, lips drawn back in a silent snarl, everything that ever cared for the redhead focused on causing harm, causing damage.
Axel moved fast, a blur as he darted, Roxas missing but following, crossing his arms over his body, muscles pulling and stretching insanely, hard as rock beneath his skin, two backhand slashes, simultaneous, not even aiming this time except to hurt, to hurt – with a heavy crash of metal on metal, the keyblades were stopped, caught jarringly, the jolt reverberating deep into his nerve endings, numbing his fingers, but he maintained his grip.
For a moment, both boys gasped for breath, eyes locking, before Roxas glanced down at the resistance – twin discs, wildly spiked, the size of car tires, deadly sharp, heavy-looking, dangerous, red and black, just like Axel.
"What're those?" the blond demanded angrily.
Axel's eyes widened, he snarled, "What the fuck're those?"
"Let me show you more intimately." Roxas leapt back, dragging the keyblades free with a clatter and clang. "I see you came prepared," he sneered. "It wasn't enough to hurt me inside? Had to finish the goddamn fucking job?" He drew the keyblades up, drove them forward in a stabbing motion hard enough to knock Axel from the tower, fury and rage the dictators of this fight, howling for blood, slavering for revenge.
The redhead had other ideas. Swinging the discs, he caught the twin blades in between the sturdy bars and yanked back, using Roxas' momentum against him. With an enraged cry, Roxas stumbled, refusing to release the handles, dragged to his knees. He tugged back sharply, wrestling stubbornly to free them. He barked, "Let go!"
"What're you doing, Roxas?" Axel glared down at him in disbelief. Roxas' eyes tore upward, narrow, incensed, lost.
"You brought this on yourself," he stated, voice shaking desperately. Then he lifted his legs and kicked at Axel's exposed knees, making the redhead howl in pain, grip weakening, allowing the blond to rip backward, wrenching his weapons away, Axel only just managing to keep hold of his own. Roxas scrambled to his feet in a second, sweating heavily despite the chill in the air, the icy rain still falling.
"You fucking brought this on yourself, so don't try and blame me." He cut sideways with one, stabbing deep with the other, the movements sloppy and awkward, but vicious. Axel caught them easily, knocked the blades aside, breathing hard, expression torn and bewildered.
"Roxas, you're not making sense!" he cried anxiously. "What did I do? What are you gonna do, kill me?"
"I don't know!" he screamed, slashing wildly. Axel blocked both with one disc, used the other to smash down on the metal right above the blond's knuckles, stunning the hands, sweeping forward with one ankle to trip Roxas. In one deft motion, he hooked the teeth of each key back into the discs and tore them from the shorter boy's hands, throwing all weapons in a low arc to the ground a few feet away, where they clashed and jangled, forming a messy heap behind him.
Panting, fists bunched, wanting to punch the shuddering pile of human on the ground at his feet until he started talking, Axel demanded, "What the hell, Roxas?"
Roxas, fire gone, everything important just gone, drew his knees up into his chest, and continued to shake. He wasn't rage, he wasn't fury – he was simply a boy again, miserable and in pain. He was drained, exhausted, he should have been in bed, but instead he was in the rain with someone who hated him. His hands covered his face, fingers spread wide to form a cage, clutching hard as he quivered and gasped.
Axel stared, uncomprehending. His hood had fallen back during the brief battle, releasing his spikes to the rain, steadily becoming heavier, drooping down towards his back. Softly, he asked, "Roxas, what were you doing? Why'd you try and hurt me?"
The blond said nothing. Worried, Axel stepped forward, knelt down, touching the teen's shoulder. Roxas came to life, sat up with a snap, pushing backward sharply, repulsed.
"Don't! Don't you dare!"
Axel snatched his hand back, startled. His eyebrows drew together. "Roxie…"
"Don't call me that," came the mumble, the blond burying his face into his knees. "Just do what you came to do, and leave me alone. I'm done now."
A frantic feeling stealing over him, finding it more difficult to breathe here in frightened repose than when he had been fighting for his safety, he begged, "Roxas, I don't get it, where's this coming from? I left you that note, hoping you'd come tonight – don't you want to know where I've been, why I haven't been to see you?"
"I don't care!" Roxas burst out, tearing his face back up into the cold. "I know about you and Naminé, I know this was all some giant trick to you, I came here to get some sort of closure, but all I did was – was make a big fucking mess of it. I don't even care anymore, Axel. Do whatever the fuck you want to me, I won't even try and stop you."
The redhead lunged forward, black-gloved hands seizing the sides of Roxas' face, drawing him up to his lips, kissing him hard for a long moment, before the blond found his chest and shoved violently back, nearly sending him sprawling. Gasping, he screeched, "What the fuck was that?"
"You said you wouldn't stop me," Axel panted. He gave a little grin. "You need to be careful, making those sorts of sweeping statements around me – I often take things to heart."
"You don't have a heart," Roxas spat. Axel dimmed, water trailing rivers down his face. He sat back on his heels and studied the saturated, embittered blond.
"I don't get it, Roxie. I don't know what I've done." His voice was quiet, almost defeated. A trace of desperation entered as he begged, "What is it? Please, just tell me what I did wrong, and I'll try and fix it."
Roxas drew in a sharp breath, roared, "Naminé! I know about Naminé!" He shuddered, gave a cracked, sad half-smile devoid of hope. "No need to pretend anymore, Axel. You can go – go wipe your mouth now. After all, you just kissed me. Kissed a guy you don't even like, never even wanted – so go ahead. I won't blame you."
Axel stared, horrified. "Roxas… I – don't…"
"I know, Axel," he said quietly, tipping his chin to one side, eyelashes low. "Just leave me alone. I have a life to go live."
The rain pattered down around them, pooling and draining back through the door, to fall down between the cracks in the stairs. Axel settled down onto his knees, ignoring the dampness, crawling closer to Roxas, whose face had returned to its hiding place in his thighs. The blond heard him coming, was too tired to fight anymore. Whatever would happen would happen, and Roxas just wanted this whole night to be over. Tomorrow… was a fresh start. Tomorrow, Axel would be gone, and he could go back to pretending this was all he ever wanted.
"Roxas." His voice was low, devoid of humour, softly raw. "I don't want to leave you. I'm not going to."
"Why?" Roxas asked hopelessly, muffled by his legs. "I know your secrets now. I know about Naminé."
Axel took hold of his shoulders, sparking with frustration, fingers digging in, shook him slightly when he didn't lift his head. "Okay, so you know about her – I don't see how, but oh, well – I still don't get why this means you're virtually trying to kill me, Rox."
This drew the blond out again, eyes wide, lips twisting down, looking ill. "Are you serious? You're not even trying to deny it?"
The green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Deny what, Roxas? What exactly do you know?"
Roxas let out a low scream of anger, surging from his subdued state and slapping the redhead away, reaching out to thrust at his shoulders, send him splashing back onto his elbows. "You son-of-a-bitch. I know everything. How dare you keep trying to pretend, when it's so fucking obvious I know the truth!" He started beating the redhead with his fists, every piece of yielding flesh he could reach in the few seconds before Axel grabbed and immobilised them, tugging him hard enough to fall into the strong arms, where he struggled and bit.
"Fuck, Roxas," Axel hissed, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep his snapping jaws away, twisting the blond's wrist behind his back sharply. "Roxas, I came here tonight for you, don't you get that? Damn it, stop struggling! I came here so we could leave together, you crazy fucking bitch, because tonight's the last night I can be here – I'm not even meant to fucking be here, I snuck the fuck in. Will – you – stop – struggling!" He released the wildcat that Roxas had become with a push, climbed quickly to his feet and out of range of the sudden kicking, the enraged sobs becoming more and more shrill. He gazed down in disbelief. "Roxas, what happened to you? What did Naminé tell you?"
"She didn't need to tell me anything," Roxas howled, lurching up to standing. "I figured it all out for myself, you fucking con-artist."
"Con – con…? Roxas, what the fuck?"
"You! And Naminé! And all this!" Roxas threw his arms wide, demanded, "What the hell did you even lure me here for? Huh? What's the final blow, Axel?"
The redhead snapped, "The final blow is me asking you to abandon your family and friends to come back to Hollow Bastion with me, right now, tonight." With Roxas effectively shut up, hysteria put on temporary hiatus, he continued, "You and your fucking conclusions, Roxie, they're gonna be the death of me, very nearly fucking were tonight! You keep saying me and Nam? Me and Nam? Like we're together or something? God damn it, Roxas, how much more do I have to display my feelings for you before you'll accept them? I'm always trying to touch you, I think you're fucking sexy, I think you're beautiful, I think you're a good fucking person, and I'm pretty fucking in love with you – there is no 'me and Naminé'."
"You're lying," Roxas said miserably. "All you do is lie."
"I've told lies, Roxas, yes." Axel stepped close, tangled a handful of blond spikes and angled Roxas' head back roughly, forcing his eyes up, tears springing involuntarily at the pain in his scalp. "I wasn't allowed to tell you the truth. But the important thing is, how I feel, is truth."
"You love me?" Roxas attempted to sneer. Axel shook him hard by his hair, making him bite back a gasp.
"Yes," said the redhead firmly, jaw set. "I do. Roxas – I'm not supposed to be here right now. It's supposed to be Naminé who gets you out of here. I lost you because I fucked up, I ignored the rules, I didn't leave when I was meant to on Sunday, and so they haven't let me come back." His fingers loosened, travelling down to the blond's face, cupping it gently when Roxas didn't try to pull away. "There's a lot of things going on that you're not aware of. I'm sorry that whatever Naminé did or said led you to this, but honest to God, Roxie, I never wanted to hurt you." His soft eyes traversed Roxas' pale skin. "I want you to escape this place with me. We don't have a whole lot of time. Someone's going to realise I'm not where I said I'd be…" He lowered himself, so they could stare at each other, green intent, blue confused and wary. "I won't let you be attached to Naminé. I can't let that happen. If you stay tonight, she'll be your only ticket out of here. This is our only chance to do it together, Rox."
Roxas was in turmoil, a churning of emotions, hope, underlaid with the bubbling, tar-like river of anger which refused to believe simply because the redhead spoke so prettily. Roxas tugged out of his grip, eyes narrowed, pain and hurt in his gaze. "Everything you've ever told me is a lie."
"Damn it, are we talking in circles?" Axel demanded impatiently. "Please, Roxas, get over whatever hatred you've formed towards me the last three fucking days of my absence and just understand that whatever lies I've told you were completely necessary, and that I had no choice in the matter."
"There's always a choice," Roxas strangled out.
Axel nodded. "Sure there is. And my choices ended up with me not being allowed to see you anymore!"
"Axel – you…" Roxas was breathing quickly, not sure what to think anymore, the certainty of the betrayal being slowly pulled out from under him, leaving him to flounder. But what about Naminé? What about the watches? "How do you even know Naminé?" he challenged, desperate to cling to whatever knowledge he'd thought he had.
Axel dug his hands back into his pockets, dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Naminé is a friend of mine. We both live in Hollow Bastion, but she usually travels around."
"So you are together," Roxas accused, hysteria preparing to pitch back up.
"Actually, we're separate," Axel murmured. "She doesn't know I'm here."
Roxas faltered. "She – what? But…"
"Roxas – I was here to try and convince you to leave Twilight Town." Axel spoke earnestly, quietly, green eyes calm but intent. "I broke some rules by staying longer than I was meant to. They decided…" He laughed sharply. "They decided I was too attached to you emotionally, that I was being irresponsible." He fixed Roxas with a fond look. "They got the first part right, at any rate. But," he sighed, "they also decided I wasn't doing my job like I was meant to, and cut me off. They sent Naminé in my place, to finish what I started, minus the kissing and telling you how cute you are."
"Then… then that's why she…" Roxas' face was lowered, face creased in thought, a flutter of panic forming in his gut. "Why are you trying to get me to leave?"
"You don't belong here, Roxas." Axel reached out cautiously, took the blond's hands. They hung limply in his grasp, but that they weren't instantly snatched away was a good sign. "You belong in the real world. With me."
"That doesn't tell me anything," Roxas said, verging on anger, refusing to lift his face. "Why me? Who makes the rules? Who, aside from you, wants me out of here so bad?"
Axel was silent for a few moments, studying the blond between the falling drops, depressed and scared-looking, so uncertain. "Your Twilight Town isn't real, Roxas. It's part of a computer simulation. The real world is in Hollow Bastion… outside of this program."
Roxas lifted his head, features screwed up, squinting at the redhead. "…That's the biggest pile of shit I've ever heard you speak," he commented with disgust.
"And yet…" Axel shrugged. "I know you're angry at me, but I didn't do anything wrong. I've given you no reason not to trust me, Roxas."
The blond laughed bitterly. "No reason? One lie, two lies, a million lies, all with a promise that one day you'll let me know everything. Then, when the day comes, you just make up a story."
Axel's fingers tightened around his arms, making him wince slightly. There was something burning in the redhead's narrow, bright green eyes, crimson brows pulled low. "I'm not lying anymore," he insisted, trying to keep the anger at bay. "I'm telling you the truth, Roxas." He released the blond, backed away several paces, then turned his head sharply to look out at the dim town. He swept an arm out, gesturing at the spread. "Look at this place! It's completely isolated, no one ever leaves – not ever." He met Roxas' gaze again. "People don't just exist solely in their own town like this, Roxas – and what about college? No matter how many homebodies might live here, why doesn't anyone ever go to a college outside of Twilight Town? They all go to that dinky little community college!" He stalked back towards the blond. "You remember how I said that the few people who do come to Twilight Town rarely leave by themselves? It's because whenever someone new comes, it's to take one of you away, back to Hollow Bastion!" He tucked his fingers under Roxas' chin, lifted it once again to look down into those blue pools swimming with bewilderment and a slight amount of shock. "Now it's your turn, Roxie. Naminé left two years ago, right? Well, it was with a friend of mine. Maybe you remember her – Larxene, she was the age then that you are now. She knew Naminé before the Twilight Town program was set up, and was allowed to bring her out – when the time comes, we're allowed to take out someone we once knew." His expression became pleading. "I know you don't understand yet, but Roxas, I'm here for you. You're the one I chose, and you've been ready to go for such a long time now. But if we don't leave together tonight, you'll end up going with Naminé instead, and you'll be attached to her. When one of us takes back one of you, a connection forms between the two people – I don't want that for you and her. I want it for you and me." He stroked the sides of Roxas' face anxiously, brushing the wet hair away, smoothing a finger along one eyebrow. "I came back for you, even though I'm not allowed to be here anymore. They'll know I broke into the system, and they'll make sure I can't do it again after tonight – that's why this is our only chance."
Roxas drew in a deep breath, broke free, jerking back a step. "You can't be serious," he muttered. "This is all just part of your joke. Yours and Nam – "
"Will you shut up about her?" Axel glared for a moment, then let him go, stomping over to where the weapons lay forgotten. He bent, untangling his own from Roxas' keyblades, gave the blond's choice of weaponry a blank, puzzled look. Carrying them over, his discs under one arm, Roxas' keyblades under the other, he pushed the blond's weapons at him. Roxas took them quickly, shooting the redhead a cautious look. "Are we going to start fighting again?" he asked tightly.
"Fuck, Roxas, no. Not unless you start swinging those things around again."
"What are they?" Roxas couldn't quite contain his curiosity. Then he darkened. "More importantly, why did you bring them?"
"It wasn't going to slit your throat and throw you off the tower, if that's what you're thinking," the redhead spat. He gave the discs a twirl. "They're called chakrams. And now, Roxie, I'm giving you a choice. This little rooftop encounter has gone on long enough, as far as I'm concerned." He shrugged, taking several long strides back, opening up a path to the door. "I mean, I was fully prepared to waste a good thirty minutes making-out and possibly getting to third-base by taking advantage of your joy at seeing me again, but hey, things obviously don't work out in non-reality like they do in your head." He fixed Roxas with a steady look. "Now, it's up to you, Roxas. You choose what you want to believe, what you want to think or feel. I'm standing right here, and I swear to you that I love you." He sighed. "I've been watching you for almost a whole year, waiting for this day. I never figured it'd be playing out like this… Something you don't remember is that we were friends as kids. Before the war. And I – " He hesitated, suddenly looking unsure… vulnerable, almost. "I never forgot you, Rox. I've been waiting for the day when I could bring you back. Everything I've said tonight is the absolute truth. So – do you want to come with me?" He said it abruptly, sounding like a nervous teen asking out his crush on a first date, despite the heavy implications behind the request. His face was twisted slightly, expecting the worst. After everything he'd heard spill from the blond's mouth since the moment he'd appeared with dark intent at the top of the stairs, he was certain that he'd lost his chance. Roxas had obviously assumed some wild and desperate ideas about why Axel had vanished… and Naminé had somehow fucked up by letting him think those things…
Axel didn't have a hope in hell of being the one to attach to Roxas now.
The blond, meanwhile, on the other side of the doorway, was struggling violently with himself. The little voices were back with a vengeance, each of them screaming something different, confusing him almost to tears. Stick to facts, Roxas.
Fact one: Axel was here. He was right here, right in front of him, and he – he claimed to love him? Roxas didn't know if he loved Axel… it hadn't even been two weeks, how could he love him after only – Facts. Okay. Fact two: Axel… was leaving? Tonight? And – wanted Roxas to come, too. He wanted Roxas to leave Twilight Town in the middle of the night, without even saying good-bye to his family, without seeing his friends one last time… He wasn't sure if he was ready for this. Not in this hasty fashion. But if he didn't… he wouldn't be able to go with Axel at all. He'd go with Naminé… assuming that he believed Axel's story, that is.
He lifted his chin, gazed out at all that Axel had gestured to. If Roxas had heard right, Axel was suggesting that all of this – wasn't real? It was all just… some kind of computer program? And – and all that about other people leaving… Naminé leaving with one of Axel's friends… Fact: …it was all too goddamn confusing to draw any concrete thoughts.
Roxas didn't know what to think, what to believe. He'd spent all this time fearing for Axel, had formed such strong convictions at last about the redhead's intentions being so heinous, and now here he was again… What did he have to gain from continuing this charade? Roxas didn't have money, which cancelled out the main force behind his certainty.
"Roxas." Axel's deep voice cut through the maelstrom of his thoughts. He jerked around, brow furrowed in consternation.
"I don't know what to do," he said helplessly. "I don't know… what to think, Axel."
"It doesn't need to be forever," the redhead reassured him with an edge of pleading. "They'll let you come back later and say good-bye. It's just that – if it's not now…"
"It's not with you," Roxas finished. He pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of the keyblades dragging him down. He wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room, curl up in bed, and dream his way through this whole mess. When had his nice, pretty, sleepy little life got so screwed up?
Well, the reason was standing in front of him, really. All of this was because of Axel. And all of what was to come…?
"Roxas," Axel hissed desperately. "Please."
Roxas met his gaze, saw the longing, and the aching, the core of Axel's anxiety bared so easily for him to see. He saw – he saw…
Roxas saw sincerity. Verity. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't think that he could believe a word of what Axel had said… but suddenly, Roxas felt the last three days fall away, washed clean with the rain. He relaxed, the tips of the keyblades dropping to the ground. Something deep and hard subsided into warmth.
Axel was Axel again.
"I don't know what's going to happen," Roxas said, feeling the voices melt together and seep away, taking the blood-thirsty rage with them, leaving only a blond boy standing in the rain on the clock tower. "And I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He dropped the keyblades with a noisy clatter, Axel's eyes following them, rising back to Roxas. "But I don't want to lose you again."
Axel's head bowed, chin touching his chest. Roxas watched the tension calm in the redhead, and when the green lit upon him again, there was a smile on the redhead's face. "I really do love you, you know."
Roxas drew into himself slightly, warily eyeing the other. "Sure, Axel."
Moments later, he was enveloped, the hard edges of the chakrams pressing into his back as Axel wrapped himself as tightly as he could around the blond. "I missed you," he murmured into Roxas' ear. Slowly, gingerly, Roxas lifted his hands and placed them onto the black-clad back.
"It was… only three days," he mumbled. Axel laughed harshly.
"They tried to make it longer, Roxie. But nothing can keep me from you, you understand that? I don't care if you don't love me back yet, you will in the end. I will always fight for you, no matter what."
"Was it… because you broke your watch?"
"The watch wasn't important," Axel said, shaking his head, burying his nose into the short spikes at the back of Roxas' neck. "It's the fact that I stayed beyond the alarm. We're only allowed in for a certain amount of time… fucking rules," he added in a mutter.
"So…" Roxas fidgeted slightly. "What happens now?"
Axel drew back reluctantly, knocking the blond's elbows with the weapons. "Well, I guess if you're coming with me, we'd better get going." He bent to peer into his face. "That was what you meant, right? You are coming with me, aren't you?"
Roxas averted his gaze. "I don't know what's going on, Axel, but… I guess I don't want to lose you. Or whatever. I don't want this to be the last time I get to see you."
Axel broke into a sudden beaming grin. "That won't happen, Roxie. We go together, that means we're attached. They'll never be able to separate us again."
Roxas nodded. "Alright then," he said quietly. "Where do we go?"
Axel became business-like. "The mansion," he said. He gave a crooked smile. "Seventh wonder of Twilight Town."
Roxas shrugged. "It's really not that much of a wonder. Naminé's the closest thing to a ghost that place has…"
"God, you're telling me – this one time, at breakfast, she just snuck the fuck up behind me out of the blue and said my name. She was like, 'Axel!' and I was just like, 'Holy shit!' I spilled my cereal everywhere."
Roxas stared, perplexed. "…What?"
Axel was sheepish. "Okay, keeping to the seriousness, got it." Then he frowned. "Wait, you mean Nam's at the mansion?"
"She's living there," Roxas confirmed.
"Shit." He raised a hand to his mouth in thought. "No, wait, it's okay, we'll just be quiet. She must be standing guard or something. They must have expected me to make a move like this…"
"There was someone looking for you today," Roxas remembered. "A boy. His name was Sora."
Axel blinked, startled. "What? Sora was – here? In Twilight Town?"
"Yeah." Roxas thought, then added, "He said your sister sent him to look for you."
Axel scowled. "Oh, great. There's something to look forward to." He sighed, shook his head. "Jesus, we really need to get going. The instant someone knows I'm here, they're gonna come after me. That's why I brought these." He held up the chakrams. Then he glanced down. "You going to bring your keys, Roxie?"
Roxas followed his gaze. "My dad made them… one of them belongs to my mom… they might notice they're missing…"
"They'll be slightly more concerned about the missing Roxas," Axel said gently.
Roxas hesitated, then nodded. "It'll give me… something to remember them by, I guess." He knelt, picked up the weapons.
"They suit you," commented Axel lightly, with a smile. Roxas looked at him, swallowed thickly. He couldn't bring himself to return the expression. His stomach was in knots. He still wasn't sure if this was the right decision to make or not – but it seemed the need to escape was stronger than the need to protect himself… He only hoped that his faith wasn't misplaced.
Following Axel as he headed briefly out of the rain into the innards of the clock tower to descend the several flights of steps, one of the little voices that had yet to vacate whispered that maybe things would be okay, after all.
