CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ghosts were dancing, one with red hair, one with blond, in the blazing sunshine. Roxas stood on the sidelines and watched them, a woman in white beside him, hands folded neatly against her long skirt. The children laughed, floating in and out of existence, darting between the struts of the play equipment. Nothing was broken. No one was dead.

"My ghost is here, too," the woman said, eyes scanning the area slowly. She paused, inclined her head towards the bench in the corner of the playground, to where two women sat. They chatted animatedly, one eye fixed perpetually upon their little phantoms. Roxas studied them for a moment, turned to glance at the woman by his side.

"…You're the ghost." He flicked a look back at the women. "She's still alive."

"She's dead."

Roxas frowned, eyes finding the small ones again, their squeals and cries filling the air. "And those two?"

She watched them, a faint fondness around her mouth. "One of those two is mine. He said good-bye to me tonight."

Roxas scratched his head. "I'm confused," he confessed. She smiled, touched his arm.

"That's alright. I didn't expect you to understand."

"How old are they?" he asked suddenly, nodding at the kids. She sighed wistfully.

"Older than they look." She turned to him, cupped his cheek. "Those bones missed you. Bones are bones."

"How can bones feel anything?"

"They can be broken, can't they?"

He blinked, baffled. "I guess."

"Break them, Roxas." Her voice was stern, eyes suddenly intent. "Break his bones. His left leg has a weakness. Your father's keyblades were always better as bludgeons than cutting weapons… When you get the chance, just break him."

"Roxas, be careful of Axel's hair! Don't pull!"

Roxas turned, distracted. The blond kid started yelling, complaining, while the red-haired ghost pouted and rubbed his head. "But mom, he – "

"But mom, he – " Roxas swung his head sideways to where she'd stood, found himself alone. Panic fluttered in his chest. He twisted slowly on the spot, searching, and when he came back to face the two mothers and their sons, they, too, were gone.

.o.O.o.

A cool hand touched his forehead.

"Mom?" Roxas muttered.

A small, affectionate sigh. "Again? Why is everyone calling me their mother lately?"

"I guess they must be fond of you."

Roxas blinked open his eyes, eyebrows drawing together. "What?"

Aerith swam into view, smiling wryly. "Good morning, young man. Feeling bright?"

"I feel…" He gagged. A pair of hands grabbed Aerith, pulled her back.

"Oh-ho-ho, no you don't. No one upchucks on momma Aerith, kid."

She tugged free, scolding, "Zack! Stop that. He needs help."

"He needs a shower." Something hideously large and bouncy threw itself on the bed, and the owner of the voice was suddenly on top of Roxas, blue eyes shining, black spiky hair falling over his face, grinning maniacally. "So, kid, tell me – did Spiky really try walking in heels? Because I'm pretty sure he swore 'never again' after that one time with this guy called Don…" Aerith smacked him sharply across the back of the head, making him whine. "Oww! Aer!"

"That's quite enough of that," she said primly. She smiled down at Roxas. "Don't mind Zack. He's an old friend of Cloud's and mine. He's come to visit, and it's just… unfortunate for you that it happens to be when you're not feeling well."

The man, Zack, straightened, simulating offence. "Oh, I see how it is – Aerith gets to play nursemaid, but no one else, huh? You know what, Aer?" He leaned forward, knees still jammed either side of Roxas' waist, crushing him slowly, hands on hips. "I think you're just an invalid hog. You want all the maternal stuff for yourself. You won't share!"

She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. Letting out a whimper, Zack followed the direction his spikes were being pulled, freeing Roxas. "There, that's better," she said, shooting the man a warning glance. She softened as she turned to the blond. "Take your time, okay, Roxas? When you're feeling ready, I drew a bath for you down the hall, and put some of your new clothes in there. Go get clean, get the smell of smoke from your hair, and there's a special breakfast for you all in the dining hall."

Zack sighed. "See, this is why I should be living here. Aerith would bathe me, feed me, wake me up each morning… I'm really not seeing a downside."

She rolled her eyes, cheeks colouring slightly. Roxas groaned. "Do I have to eat?"

She wrinkled her nose as she smiled. "Don't worry, it's Cid's special recipe, and if anyone knows hang-overs, it's him. You'll be fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want."

He threw an arm over his eyes. "In that case, I'm staying in bed," he mumbled.

"Oh, no you're not," she said sweetly. "Up you hop, Roxas, otherwise the next person in this room will be Demyx. He's really surprisingly chipper after poker nights."

Chipper Demyx. Trying to get him out of bed.

"I'll be good," the blond whimpered. Zack whistled appreciatively.

"Damn, but you fight dirty." He raised an eyebrow, bumped her with a hip. "You know, I kinda like the dirty girls."

Aerith hit him again, harder this time, making him grin. She pulled Roxas' sheets back, stripping them to the very end of the bed, folding them neatly while the blond whined and curled up to keep the cold air from the bare skin of his torso. "Come on, up," she said, with less sympathy than before. "You did this to yourself, and it doesn't get you out of a busy day. You have more time with Zexion, and tonight's your first patrol shift." She backed up, hands on hips, eyebrows rising in warning. "I will be back," she promised, "in ten minutes. If you're still in bed, there'll be trouble."

"Aeriiiith."

"Nope. Not listening!" She turned, taking Zack's arm as he held it out to her in a gentlemanly fashion, and the pair left the room. Roxas huffed out a sulking breath, scowling, fingers plucking at the pillow. Getting up was too hard. He was heavy-headed, stomach rolling unhappily, throat perched on the edge of its gag reflex. But… a bath sounded good. There were no tubs in the castle, only showers, and those were the communal ones… Where had Aerith managed to find him a bath?

At last, it was the promise of heat, and getting rid of the smoky smell which last night was an elixir, this morning just another factor of his illness, that got him clawing his way up from the mattress – that, and the threat of Demyx. The thought of that interaction actually made his stomach feel worse. For a couple of minutes, Roxas sat heavily on the edge of the bed, face lowered, hair covering his eyes, concentrating on breathing. His jeans – they were really looking gross. He could see his knees and thighs, and they were covered in all sorts of crap. New clothes – bless Aerith and her frighteningly maternal heart.

Roxas wiped his face, cleared his eyes of their grit, brushed the various bruises and winced. He scraped the hair from his face, flattening it against his crown, tucking it behind his ears, a grimace set in place as he pressed his hands to his knees and levered himself slowly to his feet. He was still in his shoes – last night, he hadn't bothered to remove anything that poker hadn't already. He pushed them off, using his feet to pry them away and drop them to the ground. Hands going to his head, holding all the broken pieces together, he shuffled to the door, still wide open, and peered through squinting eyes up and down the hall. No one was about. Thank God.

He padded down to the shower room, where Aerith had filled a large half-barrel with hot soapy water. Roxas nearly wept upon seeing the steam rise, throwing off his remaining clothes in an instant and clambering in. He sank low in the sudsy water, leaving only his nose poking out, and tried to absorb the goodness of the bath via osmosis. The cuts along his stomach and chest stung, but it was a bearable burn. God, if he could cling to this sensation for the rest of the day, he'd never feel bad again. He turned onto his side, curled up into a ball, forehead resting on the hard edge, and cast his mind back to the previous night. His memories were all perfectly intact, if perhaps a little jerky. Larxene had definitely plied him with enough, and in the end, he hadn't even had to take off his pants. How disappointing for her. Roxas was beginning to suspect that the blonde was an even bigger pervert than Axel.

Axel, though – he hadn't been a pervert at all last night. He'd been – the perfect opposite, which Roxas both felt grateful for, and disappointed by. Sure, he hadn't been exactly looking to lose his virginity, but he hadn't just been doing it because he was a pissed horn-bag, either… He'd just – lost some inhibitions about it. He'd felt sexy with the heat surging through his veins, making his head swim, and he'd wanted to make Axel feel good. It hadn't even much been about making himself feel good, although that was a nice bonus… it's just… Axel was so great. Roxas was seeing it more and more each day, and he'd – he'd wanted to show him. Not just tell him, but show him how happy he was making him. Roxas sighed, the air bubbling the water. There would be time for that later, he supposed. Neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon, and for the first time, that thought sent a frisson of excitement through him. He had – lots of time. Things would develop on their own, and… he'd be happy. He was already heading there. It occurred to him that it was – odd, perhaps, to be living his life based entirely upon the existence of another person. Without Axel, he didn't know what he had here. But… he was willing to find things. He would build it slowly, and Axel would – help him through it all. After all, Axel had done it sort of in reverse; he'd lived his life here, waiting for Roxas to come and complete it.

The blond smiled to himself, dipped under the surface, held his breath and opened his eyes, stared up at the ceiling. The world rippled, his fingers working the sweat, the traces of blood, the clinging smoke, the excess emotion from his hair. He could feel it all draining away, the hardship and confusion, all the negativity leaking from his pores to poison the water, to be tipped away and left behind, while Roxas emerged cleaner than he'd been in too long.

Chest growing tight, he emerged, bursting out his breath, spitting flecks of water in a fine mist, drawing freshness back into his lungs. He still felt sick, but damn it, he was really content all of a sudden. His head was aching, but the soreness of his battered body was soothed by the heat. Everything was balanced out by something else: he had left his childhood home, and found reality; he had given it all up, and found himself Axel's adoration; he was in pain, but his mind was calm, quiet, almost peaceable. It all worked out, one way or another.

Roxas soaked for several minutes longer, hair hanging down, plastered to the sides of his face and neck, the surface rippling then growing still. He propped his elbows on the sides of the tub, placed his fingertips against the sides of his head and massaged slowly, just to feel the comforting sensation, trying to ease away that pain that throbbed there. He opened his eyes a crack, glancing around for his clothes, saw them folded on the floor out of splash-range. Roxas smiled to himself, dragged himself out of the bath, water cascading from his skin as his feet touched the cold floor again. The warmth sat under the first layer of his skin, buzzing slightly as he dried himself. He pulled on fresh boxers, clean jeans, a t-shirt and a sweater, scrubbed his hair off to stop the drips leaking down his neck. He left the dirty stuff on the floor, after wondering for a moment where to put them and coming up blank. He figured whoever drained the tub would know what to do.

Feeling a lot fresher, Roxas headed in bare feet to the dining hall, where mostly everyone was already gathered, this morning's group division still obliterated from the night before, people from both the Committee and the techies crammed around the same table. Cid was bent over the griddle-fryer on the other side of the hall, creating sickening scents of greasy food being cooked, a hissing, sizzling sound filling the air. Faces were drawn into various states of misery and discomfort. Axel was face-down, long arms stretched across the surface, looking a lot less bright than Roxas felt. He hesitated, just watching them all for a moment. Aerith appeared at his side, smiling. "Glad to see you're still alive."

He offered a small half-smile back. "I feel better. Thanks Aerith."

She shrugged with satisfaction. "Momma Aerith knows best."

"Roxaaaaas!"

"Oh, God."

Demyx came hurtling across the room before anyone had a chance to stop him, arms wide, and the blond prepared for the worst. Seconds before collision, however, Zack surged from behind them and met the man halfway, crashing them together yelling, "Demyyyx!"

The blond squawked in surprise, cried, "Help! Zexy! I'm being abducted!" Zack laughed and whipped him in a circle.

"What, not happy to see me?"

"I don't know you!" Demyx struggled, pushing his palm against the black-haired man's face, trying to put some distance between them. "How do you know my name?!"

Zack let him down, grinning broadly. "I figure there's only one person in this room that can be described as 'chipper' after last night, and damned if that wasn't the most chipper greeting little Roxas has ever got."

"He's not little," Axel called. "He'll hurt you, he will."

Roxas smiled, scampered over to the safe harbour of the redhead's arms. Axel's eyes were warm as Roxas approached. "Morning, Roxie's Roxie."

Roxas grabbed a spare chair from an unused table and tucked it in beside him, Axel shifting along slightly to give him more room. Cloud had been slouching, glaring a little more heatedly than usual, but upon Zack's arrival, his eyes had widened, muscles stiffening. He sat up sharply, making Leon frown at the sharp motion, eyes flicking over to the new man. Zack was grinning from beside Aerith, gave a jaunty wave. "Well, if it isn't little Cloud. You going to hurt me, too?"

"…Zack?" Cloud's face went blank, shock evident, eyebrows twitching slightly together. His gaze ticked to Aerith, who smiled encouragingly. The blond swallowed, rose slowly, the others watching curiously. "What – what are you doing here?"

Zack smirked a little, rolling his eyes. "Is that any way to greet your ex-best friend, now Spiky? How about a hug, huh?"

"This guy's your ex, huh, Cloud?" Tifa eyed him beadily, Yuffie frowning slightly. They exchanged glances. Cloud laughed slightly, shaking his head, the surprise melting into disbelieving pleasure. The occupants of the table stared. Cloud looked about a hundred pounds lighter all of a sudden, a little light shining from within the clear blue eyes as he ruefully eyed the man across the room.

"No, no, he's my – ex-best friend, I guess, like he said. Zack's not gay."

"Baby, if I was, you'd be all over me in a second, though, right?" He posed for Aerith. "I mean, sexy, yes? Me? Am I man-cake?"

She covered her face, giggling incredulously, several jaws dropping at the sound of the castle's mother-figure sounding like a schoolgirl. Axel scrunched up his nose a little.

"It's like watching your mom get hit on."

"And like it," Sora agreed from a little way along, similarly disturbed. Cloud glanced down at them, grinned slightly, Leon's face slackening at the expression, a hooded, dull quality entering his eyes. The blond wandered around the side of the table, approaching the pair, Zack's hands now on his hips, beaming at the man.

"How's it going, Spike?"

"Oh, you know." There was a careful timbre to his tone. "I've been keeping busy. Bits and pieces of larceny here and there," he added dryly, glancing over his shoulder. Leon ducked his head and focused on his work, ignoring the world all of a sudden.

"Oh, that's my naughty Cloud," said Zack affectionately. "Ever the klepto." He spread his arms brightly. "So how about that hug?"

"You know, for someone who's supposed to be straight, you always like to touch me an awful lot," Cloud pointed out with a crooked smile. He moved into the man's arms, returning the gesture tightly.

"Can I help it if you make me want to grab you and never let go?" Zack muttered. He frowned, eyes closing as he gripped the blond, wrapping him up fiercely, chin digging into Cloud's shoulder. Cloud's eyebrows rose slowly, but his grip was no gentler. For a long minute, they remained clamped together, fingers twisted into the material of the other's shirt. It was as if they would become one entity if they could. There was obviously a history between them, one that the man had never even hinted at in his six weeks as part of the Committee.

At last, Zack sucked a sharp breath in through his nose, eyes flashing open to find an audience staring at them. He blinked, lowered his gaze, released Cloud slowly and stepped back. Cloud swayed for a moment, almost confused, a hand rising to scratch his head. "I missed you," he said softly. Zack darted him a quick smile, expression shivering as he struggled to contain the various emotions playing across its surface.

"I know, Spike. Me too."

"So – uh, how come you guys are exes?" Axel asked, an arm draped over the back of Roxas' chair, fingers gently twisting the damp blond hair. "You still seem pretty close to me."

Zack shrugged, as Cloud lowered his head with a frown, hands going behind his back, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. "We just kind of grew apart, I guess. Geographically, anyway. It's been – " He glanced sideways, looked the blond up and down for a brief second. "It's been a while since we saw each other."

Cloud nodded in agreement with the explanation. He seemed to cast about for something to say. "So, uh – you want some food?" he mumbled at last, suddenly awkward. He darted a glance over to the others, many of them still watching the reunion. Axel looked back speculatively. "Cid's cooking."

"What, that old battle-axe is still rattling around?" He turned, amused, watched for a moment as the man stacked bacon onto a large plate on the counter. He nodded. "I could eat." He grinned around at them all. "I'm feeling kind of like the odd one out, though. I want to be hung-over, just to fit in better."

"Yeah, we're really fucking enviable," Riku muttered caustically, burying his head into Sora's stomach unhappily.

"Riku's not great at the day-after stuff," Sora apologised, stroking the teen's long hair soothingly. Zack laughed, shook his head, grabbed a chair and swung it around beside Roxas.

"What about you, kid? You're looking healthier than you did when I was jumping on you," he observed. Axel's ears pricked. He leaned past the blond, a brow arched.

"Say again? You were jumping on him?"

"Only to wake him up," came the happy answer. Axel frowned, puzzled.

"You're like a brunet Demyx. You're way too happy. But Demyx is half-witted – what's your excuse?"

"Hey!" Demyx scowled, cuddling closer to Zexion. "I am not half-witted. I'm smarter than you!"

"Dem," he sighed patiently, "your weapon of choice is an instrument that you lined with reinforced steel so you can play during shifts."

"And that makes me clever," he insisted. "It was hard making it so the neck wouldn't snap the second it hit something. Not to mention keeping the strings tuned even after heavy impact!"

"And I'm sure your victims appreciate that. You can serenade them as they bleed."

Zack wore an entertained smile. "You guys take this pretty seriously, don't you?" His eyes glanced around, taking in the room. "You all protect this place?"

"We protect the Twilight Town core," Zexion corrected. "Zanarkand can be vicious in their efforts to take it."

"Then there's DiZ's safety to think of," Axel reminded. "He's lucky he doesn't wake up with his throat slit half the time."

Zack's interest was aroused. "Exactly how often do they make attempts? On either?"

"Often enough," Zexion answered shortly. The man grew thoughtful.

"Okay, so, why hasn't this been addressed at the peace meetings? It's not exactly a minor infringement, and Hollow Bastion's neutrality is supposed to be observed properly these days…"

"You sound like a soldier," Leon said quietly, looking up from under his brow. Zack shrugged.

"I am a soldier. Zanarkand Corps."

Eyes widened en masse, the rustling and shifting and muttering between one person to the next all stilling as those words entered the air. Everyone stared. Riku lifted slowly from Sora's stomach, blinking.

"You're what?"

Zack flipped down his collar, revealing the badge of his rank. "Hello, Hollow Bastion," he said evenly. "We going to be conducting ourselves according to the rules, or is this going to become some kind of brawl where you all try to make up for years of destruction and oppression by beating the crap out of a single, blameless soldier?"

"Blameless?" Yuffie snarled, on her feet and bristling. Axel grabbed Roxas, dragged him from his chair beside the man and onto his lap, arms protectively around him. The blond was startled, struggled automatically.

"What – what're you doing? Let me go!"

"What the hell are you after?" the redhead demanded flatly. Zack crossed an ankle over his knee, leaning back comfortably.

"I'm here to see Cloud, and to a lesser extent, Aerith." He winked over at the woman, who sat pale on the other side of the table. "She's an added bonus."

Cloud, in the chair beside Leon, had his hands clenched in his lap. Leon gave him a long look, asked without glancing away, "What exactly did you want with Cloud?"

"Am I supposed to want something in particular from an old friend?" Zack responded smoothly. "Why can't this just be a social visit?"

"Because the last time you people made a 'social visit' as you call it," Riku growled, "one man was gutted, and Demyx was hospitalised for a week."

The man's blue eyes found the blond, who had sunk back, features blank and hard. "I'm not from the area, though," Zack pointed out calmly. "I'm not one of the ones who've made the attempts on the core or DiZ."

"All it would take," Yuffie spat, "is for you to be reassigned, and you'd be one of them."

"I'm pretty sure that whoever is sending them here in the first place is operating highly illegally," the man sighed. "Look, I'm really not here for any terrible purpose. If you want, I can go, but I'll be disappointed."

Yuffie turned to Cloud. "What do you have to say about any of this?" she demanded. "How come you and Aerith are friends with a Zanarkand soldier?"

"Cid's a soldier," Cloud muttered. "He was a pilot in the war, remember?"

"Cid quit," she replied sharply. "The second peace-time rolled around, he left that sinky ship and started making right decisions for once. You're ex-bestie here, Cloud, is still a soldier, even after everything Zanarkand did to us during the war!"

"Hollow Bastion was a target of spite," Zack agreed. "I don't advocate that. I'm part of a peacekeeping group dedicated to keeping things stable."

"We've got those, too, you know," Zexion said sharply. "They're the very ones that keep attacking us."

"Which means it's a good thing I'm here," he replied lightly. "If you want, I can take notes and talk to the locals."

There was a collective snort. Even Cloud looked dubious. "Look, Zack, that's a nice thought, but… Yeah. No, it won't do any good. I haven't exactly been here long, but even I know what they're like… And – and Zanarkand's done it pretty deliberately, posting the more corrupt soldiers around this area… Hollow Bastion's still neutral, remember? And they don't like it any better in peacetime than they did before." He took a deep breath, lowered his eyes to his hands. "Guys, really – Zack's okay. He's not going to do anything wrong. He's – here to see me and Aerith. We knew each other before the war. I – I know, well… Like I said, I haven't been here long, but I'd – appreciate it – if you'd just let this go. Zack's a good person."

A brief silence ensued. Axel's hands tightened on Roxas. The blond lifted an eyebrow, met his green gaze, and shrugged. "I know I don't have a lot of knowledge yet about it all… but I'm willing to accept him," he said to the group. "He's a nice enough guy."

Axel shook his head. "Roxas, you don't – "

"I don't know the war, I know," he interrupted impatiently. He pulled the redhead's arms away and returned to his own seat. "But I'm not bad at people." He fixed Axel with a hard look. "You think Aerith or Cloud would let him stay if they didn't trust him?"

Axel was uncertain, wanted to disagree further, but couldn't bring himself to find fault in Roxas' reasoning. He wavered, glanced over at Demyx, whose eyes had narrowed. "Dem?"

Zack sat patiently, endured the scrutiny that was taking place. At last, the blond instrumentalist shook his head, frustrated. "I've got to go with Roxas on this one." He frowned at Aerith. "What do you say?"

She smiled a little, a worried expression. "I trust Zack. He's honourable. None of you need to be concerned that he's here – but, like him, I understand if you want him to leave."

Leon sighed, clicked his pen and set it down on the tabletop as Cid approached with hang-over cure food. "This would be a lot easier if I didn't feel like my brain was trying to escape through my ears," he muttered.

Cid glanced around curiously, setting the plates down. "What's with all the grim faces?"

"Cloud's friend is a Zanarkand soldier," Yuffie said quickly, before anyone could try to formulate a more delicate reply. Cid's hands paused. He looked slowly down at the plates, as if contemplating throwing the burning contents into the man's face. At last, after a lengthy hesitation, he simply let them go, stepped back, and folded his arms. "Okay," he said calmly, "how about someone a little less prone to hysteria tries telling me that again."

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. "No," he said tiredly, "Yuffie's got it right." His face assumed a controlled expression. "It's Cloud's call," he decided, drawing the attention of the table. He twisted his head to the blond, mouth pursed. "You're part of this team. We trust you. It's up to you. We'll go with that decision – all of us," he added with a firm glance in Yuffie's direction. Cloud was momentarily caught off-guard. He gaped at the brunet, who tolerantly waited for him to recover and give his verdict. A long minute passed. Leon's eyebrows twitched up slightly. Cloud blinked, Zack looking on with interest.

"I – " Cloud's throat was dry. He cleared it, nodded firmly. "Zack's not here to hurt us."

Leon tipped his head in acceptance. "Fine, then." He waved away the plate set near him. "I'm not hungry." He continued with his work, blocking out the rest of the hall almost instantly. There was an awkward silence. Zack smiled, sniffed the air.

"Now I really wish I was hung-over," he said appreciatively. "There is nothing like greasy food when you're nursing alcohol poisoning." He gained some apprehensive glances. He looked over at Cid hopefully, gesturing to the spread and asking, "May I?"

Cid eyed him, nodded. "Knock yourself out," he grunted testily, before stomping back to get the rest. Zack did as bidden, piled a smaller plate high, and, for a while, the sound of cutlery clanked and clicked as he ate. Roxas was next to start, not so much out of hunger but a show of solidarity for Aerith, who had looked steadily more distressed the longer the argument stretched. She herself didn't eat anything, but she recognised the gesture, and some of the tension smoothed from her face as she smiled at him. Doubtfully, Axel followed suit. He kept darting uncertain looks at Roxas as he ate. Generally, breakfast was a quiet affair.

When they finished, Demyx and Zexion stood, hands joined, the sedate, slate-haired man gesturing for Roxas to hurry up and follow. Glad to abandon the meal, he quickly pushed back from the table. He was stopped by Axel snaring the side of his sweater, tugging gently. He looked down, eyebrows rising. "What's up?" he asked quietly. Axel studied him.

"I'm on shift for most of today." He glanced over to the blond's instructors. "Get them to bring you for a viewing, okay? I want to be there."

"A viewing?" Roxas frowned.

"Just ask." He pulled the teen down, pressed a kiss to his lips. Roxas blinked, blushed at the onlookers, but responded, touching Axel's mouth quickly with his tongue. The long fingers tightened momentarily on his shirt, then forcibly released. Axel smiled lazily, hand trailing down and away. "See you soon," he murmured, turning back to his food.

Roxas trotted over to where Demyx and Zexion waited, joined them with a nervous smile. Demyx flung an arm around his shoulders, his other going around his boyfriend's. "Wow, Roxas, this is only your second lesson!" He shook his head. "It feels like forever since yesterday."

Roxas blinked, nodded. "Yeah… I know what you mean. A lot's happened."

Zexion glanced at him curiously. "Did Axel take you to see your parents last night?"

Demyx gasped, smacked the back of the man's head. "If I'd asked that, you would've so told me off!" he complained. "You would've said I was being nosy again. And insensitive! Exactly what are you going to do if Roxas says no?"

Roxas laughed, patted Demyx's back. "No, it's okay, Dem – he did take me to see them." He shrugged. "Well, their grave, anyway." He took a breath, eyes turning straight ahead. "It was a good thing. I'm glad he did."

Zexion nodded, closing his eyes briefly. "He's been growing restless the last few days, knowing there's so much to tell you. I thought he looked particularly pleased last night." A small smile lit his mouth. "And it's good to hear that you were so eager to defend him from the soldiers."

Demyx nodded firmly, pointing his finger almost into Roxas' eye for emphasis. "Totally. You, my dear Axel's Roxie, have cultivated this big place in my heart for the rest of our natural lives." He beamed. "I always knew he was onto a good thing with you."

Roxas squirmed a little, embarrassed but pleased. "Sure, Demyx, thanks."

Zexion moved on to the business side of things, saving the teen from further discomfiture. "Since your first patrol shift is tonight, Dem's going to show you some basic moves with your keyblades today, and we'll walk you around the general area of where to go."

"Uh, moves with keyblades?" Roxas echoed nervously. He became suddenly aware again of the slices on his flesh. They started stinging, his nerve endings reminded of their existence. Demyx, however, tickled his neck reassuringly.

"Fear not, little spiky-hair, we're not gonna fight to teach you this time. I," he added, darting a burning look at his lover, "actually know what I'm doing."

"Yes, Dem, of course you do," replied Zexion mildly, making the other glare. Roxas watched them for a moment in silence.

"Dem – why'd you end up in hospital for a week?"

The blond hesitated. "Well, I just got hurt, is all. It was a rough raid."

"They broke Demyx's left leg," Zexion said softly. "It was a bad one; the bone is meant to grow back stronger, but we all think Dem's was weakened a little. He still gets pains."

"His… left leg?" Memories stirred in the back of his mind, an odd sensation of events repeating themselves.

"I'm pretty okay now, though," the blond said defensively. "I mean, I can hop and everything. I can skip!"

"Please don't show us how," Zexion cut in, roughly three seconds before Demyx was preparing to surge forward with them dragging along. He slumped slightly, a sulky expression in place.

"So… no one's met that Zack guy before?" Roxas asked. Both men shook their heads.

"I wonder how Cloud knows him," Demyx mused. Zexion shrugged.

"Judging from his behaviour, I'd say he was probably a soldier, too."

Demyx disagreed blithely. "Oh, no, he hates Zanarkand. He had a run-in with the soldiers, I think, because he always covers up a lot when he goes into town, so none of them see him." He shot the man a strange look. "Besides, wouldn't he have told us? He doesn't say anything about his life, like, ever. Or, maybe he does to the Committee, but none of them tells us anything."

"I don't know," Roxas murmured. "He seems like the kind to play things pretty close to the chest. That's just what I've picked up on, anyway."

"Well, I'm sure that his friend will tell us," Demyx said brightly. "I mean, he might be Zanarkand, but he actually seemed okay. He doesn't even wear a uniform or anything."

"I'd still be extra cautious tonight," Zexion warned. "It's best to not trust. We don't know him, even if Cloud does."

"He seems nice, though," Roxas argued. They drew to a halt outside of Axel's room.

"Nice doesn't equal trustworthy, Roxas, not by a long shot," the man responded. "Get your keyblades."

Roxas entered the room, found the linen freshly changed on the bed, the smell of smoke lingering only slightly. He grabbed the keys from the corner where he had thrown them the previous morning, feeling their weight with growing familiarity. As he joined the two back in the hall, he asked, "Do I get to see your sitar sometime, Dem?"

Demyx grinned maniacally. "Ask, and ye shall receive, young spiky-hair! I can grab it in two seconds flat!" The blond glanced to Zexion for permission, the man nodding assent, and with a whoop, he tore off down the hallway.

"You know," said Zexion blandly into the momentary quiet, "you've just doomed yourself to a hang-over filled with loud music and Demyx warbling in the background of conversations."

"Oh." Roxas deflated. "I just… wanted to see how he could reinforce it to be so strong…"

Zexion smiled faintly. They started along again. "He certainly won't be able to cut you with it, but I'd advise you watch your head once he starts swinging."

"Zexion, what's a viewing?"

The man paused, eyebrows rising. "Did Axel mention it?"

Roxas nodded, hands burrowing into his pockets as they walked. "He said he wants to be there when we do it. He's working today, doing – whatever it is he does – and he wants me to ask for a viewing."

"Hm." Zexion ran this through his mind, shrugged. "I see no reason why not. We can go straight there after the walkthrough. You'll be seeing Twilight Town from the main monitor."

Roxas blinked. "You mean like… like Axel used to watch me?"

He nodded. "That's correct. You can see any part of Twilight Town from the main lab. You could… check on your friends."

A slow smile broke over the blond's face. "Really? That's… that's great."

Zexion studied him. "You want to pull them out, eventually?"

"Well, yeah, of course," Roxas replied with a grin. "Then we can be together again, but – but they'll be in the real world."

Zexion sucked in a breath through his nose, looking contemplative. "Just remember," he said softly, "that they have to want it. Don't be like Axel. I know that things worked out for him, but so much of that was blind luck – can you imagine, even for a moment, the kind of life he'd have ended up leading if you had never wanted to leave?" There was a silence between them, broken only by their footsteps, Zexion's eyes never leaving Roxas' face. "I'm not saying don't want it, but I'll give you the same warning I had, when I first got out, when I first viewed the town – there's a lot of people that don't need enlightening. There's a lot of people you have to let go of, and just keep as memories. Your parents are just the first. Your friends don't know you anymore. And as much as you might want to remedy that – there's a good chance they never will." His gaze was intent. "Don't pull them out just to prove to yourself that you existed in there, Roxas."

The blond was bewildered. "I – I just want them to be happy."

Zexion eyed him for a moment, then nodded. "If that's what you want, then that's fine. Just – don't plan for it, Roxas. You'll spend your entire life waiting for them to make things right. Find your own way here first, then figure out whether or not they need saving."

Roxas crossed his arms over his chest, feeling disconcerted, faintly defensive. What kind of selfishness was he being accused of? Or – was it just a warning against the rise of the selfishness? He had to admit, the thought of never having the others out here… it hurt a bit. It was a stab. He wanted to show them the truth of it all. But… if they were happy…?

They seemed happy where they were. If lies made you happy, why shouldn't you remain within them? If the lies don't hurt anyone…

All he ever had to do to keep Axel happy was tell the truth. And Axel had, in return, shown him the truth. And – this was what Roxas had wanted. He felt a hollow jerk at the thought of never seeing his friends in this reality, never showing them that there was a world to be explored. He could understand why Axel wanted to be present for what was coming.

All of a sudden, his previous good mood was being swept away, leaving him feeling vaguely chilled, cold under the skin. He grimaced a little, hearing the sounds of Demyx returning, a strumming growing louder, voice raised in tune. Zexion touched his shoulder briefly, frowning. Roxas raised his eyes. "I know how you're feeling. But – just wait until Axel's with you before making any decisions. Okay?"

Roxas stared blankly. "Okay."

"Accidents have been made," the man persisted, "when people have felt lonely. Wait until he's holding you. Keep what you feel for him in your heart when you watch them. Don't make a mistake, Roxas."

The blond drew back slightly. "I wasn't planning to," he hedged, eyes narrowing slightly. Zexion waited a beat before nodding.

"Alright, then."

Demyx appeared, toting his long blue instrument merrily, hands crawling up and down the neck as his fingers strummed. "Roxie! Check it out! I can multitask!"

"Multitask?"

The man paused, grabbed the sitar by the neck and slammed it into the wall, making the teen yelp and jump back. Demyx waved the instrument happily back and forth. "It's totally cool! I can play, and I can crack skulls! I can't wait til we're patrolling tonight! Maybe there'll be a raid, and I can show you what I'm really capable of!"

Roxas blinked rapidly. "Uh, great, Dem." He clutched the keyblades a little tighter, nodding as the other blond displayed the unchanged tuning of the strings. "That's… great."

They continued on, accompanied by a constant musical monologue.