CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Yuffie entered the next morning, she was dragging herself, face heavy with lack of sleep. She staggered to the bed and fell on top of Roxas, for the second day running startling him awake.

He lay there blinking, the girl making no move to lift herself. "Uh, Yuffie?"

She whined, "Five more minutes. You're warm, and Leon made me get up early to get you up early."

Roxas swiped his drowsy features. "We're up early?"

"You're going to the valley, remember?" She groaned, rolling to the side. "That means extra walking, which means an early start."

"But I don't want to get up yet," Roxas attempted to reason. Yuffie hit him.

"Hey, buddy, I had to get up super early to give you your massage, so don't you tell me you don't want to get up! You don't even have to yet, you just have to lie your ass still so I can rub you!"

"I'm pretty sure I'm glad Axel's not around to hear you say that…"

"Shut up," she complained. She climbed over onto his back, sitting heavily, and started off simply by thumping him a few times in the name of waking up blood vessels. Roxas wasn't so sure about the innocence of her intention, but wasn't exactly in a position to protest too loudly.

When at last she finished the hour, they were both a lot more alert. Today's session had been a lot less painful, thankfully, both his skin and muscles having settled down slightly from their previously less-than-ideal state. "So, Axel wouldn't like hearing about me rubbing your half-naked body, huh?" Yuffie asked slyly, as she swung her legs over onto the ground.

Roxas snorted. "He'd be jealous because you got to me first."

She laughed, ruffling his hair as he sat, ignoring the squinting look he sent her way. "How's that going with him, anyway?" She scowled, adding, "Demyx better not be pressuring you to have babies with the redhead."

"I'm pretty sure that would require Axel's sister," Roxas reminded her doubtfully, "whom I have no plans to impregnate now, or ever."

"Well, there's always that," she admitted with a shrug. "You've gotta admit though, it'd be damn cute." She brightened, flicking her hands at the head-height of the various imaginary toddlers bouncing around. "Mini-Axel-and-Roxas's! God, the hair! The eyes!" She pouted, folding her arms. "Why do you guys get all the best damn genetics?" She threw her hands in the air as she flounced from the room, declaring in fading tones down the hall, "In my next life, I choose to be a hot, gay man!"

"Uh… right, okay," Roxas muttered to himself, blinking around, scratching his head. Miniature versions of him and Axel? God, they'd all end up killing each other before they turned three… The adult versions had enough trouble as it was.

He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a fresh shirt, frowning at the increasingly filthy state of his jeans, and the speed that he and Axel were going through the clothes. He'd have to ask Aerith about this, see what he could organise as far as his own clothing and room were concerned. Surely they didn't all expect him to take over Axel's bed from now until forever? Where was the redhead sleeping these days, anyway?

Making up his mind to ask both Aerith and Axel about new sleeping arrangements, he tugged on his shoes, tied the laces, and set out for the dining hall. It took him a while of cautious turns and the occasional backtracking, but he managed to direct himself there without needing rescuing. His eyes lit instantly upon the sweeping view from the windows, the small group of men huddled against the tall glass, gulping down hot coffee and checking over various sheets of paper. Roxas poured himself a steaming cup and joined them, shivering as the cold leached through from outside, the sun yet to appear, the horizon deep blue with a glow of white.

Leon glanced up at his arrival, nodded briefly as he took his place beside the grim-looking Cloud. The blond glanced over at him. "Hey, Roxas."

Surprised by the voluntary greeting, Roxas managed to utter back, "Hey."

"Okay, today we're heading to the valley site like I told you last night," Leon explained, his voice low in the pre-dawn hush, an automatic response despite the electric lights blazing overhead. "Cloud's going ahead on his bike with some materials that would've slowed us down to carry. You, me, and Cid are taking the rest of the tools between us. We'll be there by nine, work until five, then come back for a late dinner."

Roxas dimmed with the realisation that he wouldn't be seeing Axel at all today, every mealtime taken up with either transit or work. "Damn," he muttered softly.

"What do you see in that guy, anyway?" Cloud grumbled, evidently aware of their situation, arms folded over his chest with his coffee in one hand.

Roxas glared. "I wouldn't expect you to know. You're too busy stomping around in heels, remember? Are they pretty pink, with bows on, or are you more of a sleek and sophisticated woman?"

"Enough." Leon's voice cut through the juvenility. "We need to get started. Roxas, grab something to eat to take with us, do it fast."

Roxas went to comply, his mood sinking. Yuffie was right – they were a bunch of grumpy shits. Cid hadn't even bothered to acknowledge his presence, Leon was using him to the best of his abilities before the week ran out, and Cloud was a mopey little bitch.

They left the castle as the sun was rising, the air chilly and windy, trees shushing, gravel crunching loudly as they walked. Cloud was leaving in another hour on his bike, currently tying various lengths of pipe and a large toolbox as securely as possible to the machine. It was going to be a heavy ride. Roxas was just glad the blond had spoken up the night before and insisted on coming, otherwise all of those things would be weighing down him. Between the three of them, they managed to cart several other toolboxes, some large batteries, and an assortment of junk Roxas knew vaguely by sight but couldn't hope to identify. They had packed it all into hand-pulled wagons, the trundling wheels grinding over the small rocks.

The walk was long and hot, far more strenuous than yesterday's trip to the city. Roxas could feel the pounds melting from his frame with the rivers of sweat dampening Axel's shirt. He'd worn three-quarter-length sleeves to save his flesh from the sun, but it was heating him up the higher the blazing star crept.

By the time nine came and went, they hadn't yet reached their destination. Cloud had long-since passed them by, and would be waiting impatiently for their arrival. Roxas' face was bent low, mouth open as he sucked in air, the taste of salt invading his lips and tongue. Leon led the way from the main, winding dirt road onto little more than an animal track, the earth freshly ripped from Cloud's passage. It was nearly a quarter-to-ten by the time they arrived, and the workday had yet to begin.

Both Leon and Cid seemed fine to start straight away, while Roxas staggered around cursing videogames and a lifetime of junk food. A bottle of water flew across the clearing, knocking him on the head, sending him to his hands and knees in the grass. Glaring, he lifted his gaze to find Cloud staring, blue eyes blinking. In answer to the scowl, the older blond shrugged. "I really thought you were looking."

Sulking, Roxas unscrewed the cap and swallowed as much as he could. He was assaulted suddenly by thoughts of Olette, making him drink after his ordeal in the tunnels. He hesitated, frowning slightly as his heart gave a little lurch, a quick stab of pain churning the dry toast in his stomach. Slowly, he drew the bottle away from his lips, wiping it clean in case the others needed to use it later. He was sitting in the grass with his knees bent, elbows propped against them, the bottle between his legs. Brows furrowed, he studied the water, tipping the bottle back and forth, watching the fluid slosh from one end to the other.

Olette. He wondered how she was doing. It had been a few days since he'd heard her voice… That last day of school, he'd avoided them all, hadn't felt like talking with everything that was going on. He hadn't – felt he could confide his fears in them, and at the time, that had solidified his opinion that all he really needed was to get out… find people he could relate to…

Roxas lifted his head, squinting through the sunshine at the three men, bent in discussion over some plans, the generator hulking down by a river passing through the valley. The ground around them was littered with tools and equipment, raw materials, the air filled with the faint rushing of water. These were the people he had left his friends for? This was his replacement for Hayner, Pence, and Olette? They had – been together forever, even when Roxas hadn't wanted or needed them… they'd always stuck by him.

Olette's tears, when she thought Roxas was coming back to them, back to himself, that old, cheerful version they used to know and love… The memories were beginning to hurt. Quite – quite a lot. He thought of them, trapped inside a network of circuits, completely unaware that the lives they were living were futile, they were two-dimensional, they barely even existed, as far as these people were concerned…

"Roxas! Get your ass over here!"

He sighed, stood, part of him glad to have the excuse to abandon the current train of thought. He shuffled over to the three men, Cid holding a cylinder of paper that he was knocking against his leg with nervous energy. "Okay, kid," he started, "we're gonna need you transferring this stuff over by the river. Me, Leon and Cloud are gonna go check out the machinery, tighten some winches and shit like that, we don't have time left in the day to be carting this stuff around anymore than we have. If you have trouble lifting anything, use the goddamn wagons, it's what they're here for." He squinted one eye. "You get all that, sunshine?"

"Uh – "

"Great." Rolling his eyes, Cid wheeled away, digging through his pockets for a packet of cigarettes, stomping down towards the generator. Leon and Cloud followed, and before long, Roxas found himself back to sweating, while they crawled in and out of the machine, calling to each other, taking notes, the clatter of tools filling the air.

The day passed, morning becoming afternoon, fading gently into evening. Roxas was sitting on a patch of grass, momentarily unneeded, enjoying the chance to let his muscles cool down, feeling the nip of the breeze as it rustled through the trees, the grass, a draught up his calves chilling the sweat that had gathered under the heavy denim material.

He was a reasonable distance from the worksite. It was within sight, easily, and within shouting distance if he was required, but he had taken the opportunity to have some time alone. Thinking of Axel, of the castle, of technicians and Twilight Town.

He heard footfalls, frowned, started to turn but was stopped by hands closing gently around his skull in a cage of strong fingers. His face was jerked back to look straight ahead, a quiet, startled noise escaping his lips.

"Hello, young man," a deep, soft voice whispered into his ear. "How are you today?"

Roxas felt the power in the hands that held him. He strained to twist, but was held in place, nails pressing warningly into his scalp. His lips pressed tightly together.

"Who're you?" he demanded. "Let me go."

"See them over there, working away… fighting to reconstruct what was so very nearly – how did she describe it? A big pile of rubble?"

Something tightened in Roxas' chest. "What?"

"Hollow Bastion was so lucky, wasn't it, Roxas?"

The blond bucked, teeth clenched, elbows shooting back. The hands drove his face into the earth, dirt through his lips, grass choking his nose, spluttering and breathing in grit. His fingers found the dirt, shoved, trying to pry his head back, but he was held relentlessly, pressure forcing against the base of his skull. He started coughing weakly, writhing. Abruptly, he was yanked back up, the claws surrounding him again, holding his neck immobile. Soil dropped from his face, the tang of blood coming from one swollen lip as he gasped. He was forced to look over at the river, the generator, Leon, Cloud and Cid so far out of reach right now.

"They are so close, aren't they?" the voice taunted. "So close – all they'd need to do is look up, look at you, and they would know things weren't right. Who would come to the rescue, do you think?"

"Let me go," Roxas said weakly. He was shaken roughly, something clicking sharply in his neck.

"No requests. No mercy. Nothing but death, and fire, and torture, and destruction. Isn't that how life is, Roxas? You wouldn't know!" the voice hissed, and he was shoved back down, smothered in the earth, rolled back and forth, teeth cutting the flesh behind his lips, scooping dirt under his tongue, scraping into the cavities of his eyes. "You were in the network, little war-orphan, little baby with blue eyes and blond hair, parents dead, little war-orphan trapped away – thinks he's suffered, does he?" Lips found his ear, the voice louder now, snarling, "You think you've suffered, Roxas? You think being locked away was such a terrible fate?"

Roxas was slowly asphyxiating, throat clogging, trying to hack and breathe at the same time, hands reaching up to tear strips with his nails at the vicious hands that held him so tightly. His feet dug into the ground, scraping uselessly. He planted his hands, pushed, pushed, fell back as he was released, gagging up dirt, gasping in air and crying.

"Poor little war-orphan." Sinuous breath. "I'll make it better, in the end." A punch to the stomach forcing out what little air he'd salvaged, a punch to the face sending his head ringing, all so tight and quick, sharp to keep him silent, the three men calmly working away down the hill next to the river. "You shouldn't have left me." His head driven into the ground, once, twice. "You shouldn't have run." Nails being dragged across his cheeks. One last warm exhalation upon his lips, one last clutching at his ribs, fingertips digging in to bruise, one last tug at his hair, hard, hard enough to sting, one last murmur in his ear: "You should have known you wouldn't get far, Roxas."

Roxas was left in the dirt, bruised and bleeding, shivering and panting, pain everywhere, heartsick, head a whirling mess, tears leaking through his grit-filled eyes. His lips voicelessly formed Axel's name, a silent plea, begging for help, the air empty around him of human presence.

Time passed. It was Cloud that found him, features twisted with horror, picking him up, Roxas' face between his grease-smeared fingers. "Roxas! Fuck!" He turned, roared over his shoulder, the other two coming at a run. Breathless exclamations, a startling lack of swearing from Cid, Leon gently removing the boy from the blond man's grasp.

"Cloud, get the bike started, he needs to be taken back to the castle."

"The hospital!" Cloud stated, eyes wide. Leon snapped him a glare.

"The castle. Aerith will take care of him. Tifa has some training as a medic. Get him to them, he'll be fine. No hospitals."

Tempted to argue, the blond nevertheless capitulated. The bike was started, Roxas slung into his arms across his lap. Cid tucked the boy's legs up, a hand brushing the dirt from his eyes. Roxas coughed weakly, face turning into Cloud's chest. The bike's engine snarled, and moments later took off, tearing a trail back towards the castle, leaving the valley far behind.

.o.O.o.

Roxas winced as someone touched his cheek, flinching away from the pain.

"Roxas, you need to wake up." A gentle voice, coaxing him from the darkness. "Come on, sweetie, I know you're nearby – push through. Open your eyes."

Blue eyes cracked open, stinging. His face was wet, the smell of rubbing alcohol drifting through his senses. He inhaled sharply, eyeballs like dry spheres of vellum in his skull, ticking slowly sideways, Aerith coming into view. She smiled slightly, green eyes concerned, a line between them he hadn't seen before. "Welcome back."

"Aer – " He broke off into a fit of coughing, voice a rasping rattle. Something cold touched his lips, eliciting pain.

"Drink," she urged softly. "You need to get it all down."

Roxas sucked noisily at the water in the cup she held, feeling the dirt pass into his stomach, scratching at the back of his throat. Aerith's fingers brushed lightly at the hair covering his forehead, bangles clacking quietly. He finished, coughing weakly, and she drew the cup away. Roxas took a deep, slow breath, turning awkwardly onto his side, bed-sheets rustling. He gazed around blearily, saw he was back in Axel's room – it looked different with the lights on. His shirt had been removed, making him shiver. He tugged the blankets up, tucking them under his chin, wanting nothing more than to return to sleep. Aerith sat beside him on a chair, still stroking his hair.

A wave of grief washed over Roxas suddenly, in the face of such nurturing.

don't be surprised if one night you wake up calling for your mother.

He buried his face into the pillow, struggling against the swelling in his chest, feeling it trickle to burn his stomach. He hitched in a broken breath, fighting for control, and Aerith just kept petting.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay for you to cry, Roxas."

He shook his head sharply, pain stabbing through at the motion. "Where's Axel?"

"He's working, sweetie. We haven't told him you're back yet. He needs to finish his shift, and there's nothing he can do."

"We're worried he'll just get in the way," Leon's voice broke in, making Roxas cower, a sudden rush of memory assaulting him at the abrupt words appearing from nowhere. He forced his head up, twisted to see the brunet man leaning against the wall beside the wardrobe, half-hidden by it. Roxas let his ear drop back to the pillow.

"You need to tell me what happened, Roxas. One minute you were right there, the next you were gone. Cloud found you half-conscious on the side of the hill."

Roxas' eyebrows drew together, the motion painful, his head a throbbing mess, extending down in a spiral around his spine. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked hoarsely.

"About five hours, sweetie," Aerith answered, sliding her hand down to slip into Roxas'.

Roxas grunted. "Shit."

"What went on?" Leon asked flatly. "Describe the attacker."

Roxas let out a huff of air. "Can't. He didn't… I never…" He drew a breath. "He came from behind. I didn't get – a chance to look. His voice, though…"

"His voice…" Leon sounded disgruntled.

Aerith, more encouraging, prompted, "His voice?"

"I'd recognise it again… but… that's all."

"Any idea of an age?" Leon demanded.

Roxas shrugged faintly, freckled shoulder shifting the covers. "Twenties? Thirties? I don't know. He was a man. His voice was deep."

"So," muttered Leon, running a hand through his in frustration, "we have a man with a deep voice running around attacking people from behind, in isolated areas." He paced away from the wall. "What was he even doing there? Did he know we'd be there, or did he just stumble across us?" He turned to glare at the injured blond. "Did you do anything? Why did you move so far away from us?"

"Leon," Aerith admonished, frowning. "Don't blame Roxas."

"I just… wanted some space…" Roxas' voice was small. He hunched into himself. "I'm sorry."

Leon sagged, a hand reaching up to pinch between his eyes. "No, look, I apologise. It's not your fault, Roxas. I'm just – angry. I didn't notice you were gone."

"Can I see Axel now?" the boy sighed. Aerith and Leon glanced at each other, her lips pressed, his expression weary. Leon nodded.

"I'll get someone to let him know what's happened."

He left the room, while Aerith gathered her materials together, getting rid of the blood-stained cotton-balls. "I'll stay until he gets here," she said softly. Roxas nodded, eyes slipping tiredly shut. She sifted through his hair a little. "Try to stay awake. You have a slight concussion. We want to make sure it doesn't develop into more."

Roxas sighed, forced his eyes back open, listening to the silence, waves of comfort radiating from the woman. About ten minutes passed before the door jerked open again, letting in an irate Axel. The air around him vibrated. His eyes narrowed angrily upon seeing Roxas' state, then transferred to Aerith as he snapped, "Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?"

"We felt it was best this way," Aerith said patiently. "He's only just woken up."

"I could've helped, though," he argued, body-language aggressive, stalking over to the bed. "I could've cleaned him up, it's not like I haven't had any fucking practice."

"You still had your shift to get through," the brunette reminded him. Axel snarled, hands moving sharply like they did when they held the chakrams, as if he itched to have them, to use them.

"Roxas is lying in bed beaten to within an inch of his life – "

"He's really not that bad," Aerith corrected.

" – and you really think that my shift is more important?" he continued loudly. He let out a hiss of air, fingers forming fists, taking an abrupt step back from the woman. "You should go," he said tightly. "I can take care of Roxas."

Aerith made no move to argue, nodding quietly and collecting her things, but leaving the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. "You can disinfect his cuts again, they got quite dirty." She stood, patted Roxas one last time, then left the room, pulling the door shut behind her with a low click.

Axel's anger found new focus, meeting Roxas' glare as the blond said, "That was a pretty shitty thing to do. Aerith was only trying to help."

"Roxas, I don't particularly care," the redhead replied, dragging the chair back to slide his long legs in beside the bed. He did as Aerith advised, unscrewing the cap of the clear alcohol noisily, soaking a cotton ball, swabbing Roxas' face. The fluid was cold, stinging the numerous small cuts and grazes. There was silence for a while, Roxas fighting off the winces at Axel's angry, efficient strokes. "Tch." The redhead's expression darkened, long fingers seizing Roxas' jaw and turning his head slightly. "You have scratches on your cheek."

"Both cheeks," Roxas quietly remembered. His voice was low, subdued. He accepted the pain, feeling sick at the memory.

"So, who did it?" Axel asked intensely. "I know you don't recognise people yet, but give me a description. I'll pass it on to the others and we'll go hunting."

"Hunting?" Exhausted disbelief.

Axel shot him a sharp look. "Hunting," he confirmed. "You think I carry those spiky fucking wheels because they complement my ass?"

Roxas shook his head, regretted the action, stiffening at the pain. Axel's eyes became slits, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried to contain his rage. "I already told Leon," Roxas said tiredly. "I didn't see the guy. He came from behind."

"What, you didn't see anything?" Axel scoffed. "Come on, Roxas, nobody gets beaten this bad from behind. You must've caught a glimpse at least."

"Well, I'm sorry," said the blond harshly, "but by the time I might have been in a position to, I had dirt in my eyes, my head had been bashed against the ground, and I was concentrating on not smothering on the fucking earth in my throat." He glared with bloodshot eyes. "You think I don't want the guy caught? He's a fucking maniac, Axel, he knows my name, he knows I'm from Twilight Town, which probably means he knows I live here. You think I want him running around free?"

Axel's lips had pressed thin. He scraped at Roxas' face with the cotton ball, along the neat cuts made by the man's nails. "Ow!" Roxas shouted. Tears sprang into his eyes. He leaned over and shoved the redhead roughly. "Get away from me, you're just making things worse! You're angry with me!"

"I'm not angry with you," Axel snarled.

"You are!" Roxas cried. "You're fucking angry with me for not fighting back! I couldn't, Axel, I tried. He was too strong for me!"

"How does he know your name? How does he know you're from Twilight Town?"

"I don't know! He just fucking knew! He must've been following me and Aerith to town, because he said something she'd said to me. This wasn't my fault!"

Axel sat back suddenly, slumping against the chair, a loud sigh ripping from his lips. Roxas glared, wiping at his stinging eyes, daring the redhead to continue. The fight, however, was draining steadily out of the long-limbed male, the tension leaving the room.

"What did he want from you?" he asked quietly, eyes low. "Did he ask for something, or were you just a convenient outlet for his insanity?"

Roxas hunched up slowly, defensiveness dying away. He closed his eyes, remembering the garble of words that had been hissed into his ear. "To be honest? I don't have a clue. He was just – nuts. Certifiable. He didn't ask for anything – just – told me I shouldn't have left him. Shouldn't have run." He blinked at Axel. "Do you think he followed me out of Twilight Town somehow?"

Axel's head lifted, eyebrows rising. "What? No, impossible. No one in the system knows it's a simulation. No one could have followed you out." He shrugged. "Hell, Rox, no one even knows you're gone."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Axel froze. His eyes rose slowly to meet Roxas', a confused, suddenly worried expression in the blond's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Axel rubbed the back of his neck, tipping his head back with a sigh. "Sorry. Didn't mean for it to just come – blurting out like that." He folded his hands between his thighs, grimacing. "One of the great things about people leaving Twilight Town is the total loss of memory those around you suffer." He half-smiled, without humour, a concerned cast to his green eyes. "You've had it yourself, Roxie. Riku, Kairi, Naminé – once they were gone, you basically forgot they existed. It's part of the program – the person in charge of getting you out of Twilight Town just goes through and systematically wipes your presence from everyone's minds. It's not that hard to do. And, well, you had Naminé technically working your case – she's not the best techie, but she's a total wizard when it comes to modifying memories…" He sucked in a deep breath, held it for a moment, said on the exhalation, "Nobody remembers you, Roxas. I mean, if you returned tomorrow, it'd pretty much break the programming, and your friends would remember you, but for as long as you're out here…"

Roxas was struck numb. Nobody – remembered him? No one knew he was gone?

No one knew… he'd ever existed?

His entire life had ceased to be.

"Mom," he whimpered. He curled a hand across his face. Everyone he'd ever loved had just been torn away from him.

"Ah – about your mom, too…" Axel shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I never meant for this to be our time for me spilling all the big secrets, but… Roxas, your mom's not real. Neither's your dad. They're – part of the program. Part of Twilight Town."

Roxas ripped his hand away, snarled, "What?"

Axel flinched, blinked. "I'm sorry," he said in a rush. "It's that whole war-orphan thing you mentioned – we're all war-orphans, Roxas, everyone who's ever been in the network and then some…"

"What are you talking about?" Roxas demanded. "What do you mean? You're telling me I'm a war-orphan? An orphan?"

"I'm sorry," the redhead breathed again, sinking down in his chair, knees pressing against the side of the mattress. He rubbed at his face, long fingers pressing between his eyes. "Yeah, you're an orphan, just like me, just like all the techies. It's – the whole purpose of Twilight Town – to house the hundreds of kids who… whose parents died in the war." He cupped an elbow in one hand, using his free hand to scrape through his scarlet spikes. "It was DiZ's idea. There were too many kids dying on the streets without people to take care of them. Everyone was – trying to pick themselves up, you know? Hollow Bastion, it was hit so hard… So many adults were killed, it was like a city of children for a while." He shrugged. "The solution was to build them a new town, some virtual nannies, and… just let them take care of themselves."

"Virt – virtual nannies?" Roxas was livid. "You're calling my parents, my mom and dad, virtual nannies? You're telling me – " His voice rose. " – that all the love, all the hugs, all the birthdays, Christmases, good-night kisses, all the – all the fucking love and care I've ever experienced wasn't real?"

"No, no Roxas, you – "

"Then explain it to me," the blond hissed. He sat up, ignoring the pain. "I won't jump to conclusions this time, Axel – you tell me the truth."

Axel was silent for a few beats. "They…" He had nothing to say. No argument to make. "It was – it was real… They were…" He hesitated. "They were made to be as lifelike as possible…"

"Lifelike?" Roxas was crying quietly, tears spilling down his cheeks, stinging the cuts there. "My parents weren't real, Axel. Lifelike doesn't mean anything. I knew that things were getting bland, and I realised once you got me out that my life was kind of a lie – but – my mom and dad weren't real? They weren't – they were all just…?"

Axel lay his head on the mattress, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Rox. I didn't want to hurt you."

"You have," Roxas snapped. "You've hurt me a fucking lot, Axel." He gripped his hair, lowered his face to his knees. "Oh, my God," he moaned. "You're the only person in the whole fucking universe that loves me."

Axel lifted his head, regret tugging his features, compassion. "Oh, Roxie, no…"

"So you don't love me then?" the blond snarled.

"No – of – of course I do!" Axel replied, sounding panicked.

"Then shut up," Roxas said miserably. "Because my friends are trapped inside a town that doesn't exist, and they stopped loving me when I stopped loving them, Axel, because I became a total ass. You're the only fucking human being that loves me."

"Roxas…" Axel got up from his chair, slid onto the bed beside the blond. Roxas flinched away from him, wiping at his face, then leaned in, tucking himself into the redhead's chest.

So, this was it, then. This really – made it final. Roxas hadn't just left a false town, he'd… he'd left a false life. His parents weren't real.

Fact. Fact, fact, fact. Deal with it. Fucking deal with it. No use – crying over a group of pixels that… don't even know you were ever alive.

Hell, they didn't even know anything to begin with. They were just… programmed to act a certain way. A deep, numbing confusion swept through the blond, the rug of a secure upbringing being tugged right out from under him. There was nothing to fall back on anymore, no intrinsic knowledge to depend upon, because everything he thought he knew was just – utterly, utterly unreal. He was hurting, inside, outside, mentally, emotionally.

He'd better learn to love Axel, and fast, because he didn't think he could stand this feeling of loneliness any longer than he had to. He needed something to cling to, something to reassure. Maybe this was why people ended up bonding so heavily with the one that took them out of Twilight Town – it was like, all of a sudden, this was all he had left. This thing with Axel, it was all that separated him from being nothing.

All those people, they were happy now, weren't they? They'd suffered the same epiphanies, people like Zexion, and Riku, and Kairi, even Naminé – they were all fine now. They knew that their lives were non-existent, that it began the moment they were pulled from the system. And they were okay.

Roxas would be okay. He insisted to himself, deep inside, even as his blue eyes continued to well up, that he'd be just like them someday. He'd move with confidence again. He'd be happy, just like they all seemed to be. Kairi and Naminé – they hadn't even had the opportunity to get together with anyone. They must've been… tougher than they looked. He couldn't imagine Larxene making it all worthwhile…

Roxas, though – he had Axel. He had Axel to make it all worthwhile.

"I'm not leaving you again," the redhead muttered suddenly into his blond spikes. "Fuck this. I'm talking to DiZ the next time I can, and I'm getting this sorted out. You can't be punished for my fuck-ups. I'll find a way to take it onto myself, like it should've been from the beginning." He kissed Roxas' head. "You've suffered enough. It's time to make you see that – that this is a life you want." He held the blond close, momentarily forgetting the injuries, Roxas not reacting to the various bolts of pain. "It'll be okay, Roxas. It really is better out here. I'll show you. I'll show you everything. And then you'll be happy."

Roxas – he really, really hoped so. Because it was such a horrible struggle… trying to convince himself that all of this wasn't a huge mistake. It was hard to not be wishing his mind back to its ignorant state of three weeks ago, Axel or no Axel.