CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Their footsteps were quiet, the hallways virtually deserted. As the hours melted down, a hush fell over the castle. Roxas could feel the night grow deeper beyond the walls, the normal tone of their voices jarring and harsh when they should have been whispering.
Axel spun his chakrams easily as he walked, a swinging stride, black gloves reflecting the light as his hands shifted up and down, fingers twining the bars of the weapons. He wore his long black coat, hood hanging loosely at his shoulders. Roxas' new clothes were shades of black and white – baggy two-tone pants, a short-sleeved jacket over a black t-shirt. He wore his old shoes, dusty and comfortable, Axel's boots clomping whenever he took a broader step, pulled by the momentum of his chakrams. The keyblades were hooked over the blond's shoulders, easier and safer than carrying them aloft, his elbows stuck out slightly as he adjusted his grip on their handles.
So far, things had been quiet, just as Axel had predicted. Zexion and Demyx were settled in the main lab, tinkering further with the cracked casing, completing the last of the repairs while they monitored the communication between the various teams lazily patrolling the castle perimeter. Both Roxas and Axel had small walkie-talkies clipped to their clothing, could hear the occasional crackle of static and a bored voice reporting lack of activity at key entrances. Three hours passed without event.
"And… you guys do this every night?" Roxas asked dubiously. Axel shrugged, sighed, took a few chopping steps forward, slicing his chakrams at imaginary enemies.
"Yep. This is the night-life of a techie. We take shifts, though. I mean, no one works every night, or all night." He grinned. "That's the plus of having so many of us."
Roxas nodded slowly, fingers tightening then loosening on the keyblades. "And… is it always this boring?"
Axel laughed, the sound ringing through the corridor. "You bet your ass it is. This is the dullest fucking job in the world." His eyes twinkled, teeth baring in a semi-feral grin. "Unless, of course, there's a fight. That breaks it up nicely."
Roxas rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure, because gutting people, that's always fun. And you – didn't you get hurt last time?" Axel sobered slightly, Roxas watching curiously. "That's what that asshole in town said, right? He got you."
Axel grunted sourly. "He might have. Only because he's a jerk that plays dirty, though. If he had any kind of skill at all, he'd have got me down without being such a fucking pussy about it."
Roxas' eyebrows rose, lips pursing in a silent whistle. "You're planning on leaving me for him, aren't you?"
Axel shot him a wry sideways look. "Yes, dear, I'm afraid your petit cute blondness just doesn't compare to the beefcake, ginger-haired hunk that that guy is." He threw his arms up, flailing dangerously with the chakrams, covering his eyes with his wrist. "Oh, Bickson, my love, I am here for you!" His voice echoed as he dropped to his knees, Roxas snorting with laughter. He kicked the redhead's waist, making him drop a wheel with a clatter, continued on as Axel yelped and snatched it back up. He scrambled up to his feet and jogged to catch up. He twisted, walking backwards, slightly ahead of the blond, smiling broadly. "Then again, I could always go for second-best."
"So could I, I suppose," replied Roxas easily. "Naminé's really looking hot lately, don't you think?"
"Oh, you bitch."
Laughing, Roxas was slammed against the wall, keyblades knocking hard. "Uh-uh-uh, Axel, we're patrolling, remember? No funny business on the job!"
"Who said I was going to do anything funny?" the redhead growled. "I just figured my chakrams could do with a little of your blood on them, that's all."
"Kinky," Roxas offered, far more confident with all his clothes on than he had managed to be in the sultry atmosphere of the showers. "I need to ask Nam if she's into that sort of thing. Maybe – " He wheezed with amusement as Axel released him, stalking down the hall. "Maybe you could give us lessons!"
Axel managed to thrust up his middle finger while keeping hold of his chakram. Roxas trotted after him, chuckling. As he reached the man's side, he received a poisonous, green look. "Are you done now?"
"I don't know," the blond mused. "Where's your self-esteem right now?"
"Two words away from pounding you into a quivering ball."
"I keep telling you, Ax, not on the job."
Axel snarled, face contorting. "You're pushing you're luck, shortie."
"Oh, I am, am I?" Roxas raised an eyebrow. "And you telling Zack you'd leave me in daycare – "
"It was a joke!"
" – to have your way with him, and I'm joking too!" Roxas gave him a disbelieving look, passed one keyblade over to hold both in the one hand, and whacked the back of Axel's head. "Duh. Are you honestly this insecure, or do you really think I'm some kind of slut?"
The redhead shot him a disgruntled glare. "Don't be stupid. I told you, Roxas. I don't like you kidding around like that. I swear, she likes you. She'd snatch you from me in an instant…"
The blond scowled. "She wouldn't, Axel. Even if she does like me, she's nicer than that. She's not going to try and lure me away from you. Not to mention that fact that Demyx would drown her if she did."
"Before moving onto you," Axel agreed, nodding. Roxas smiled slightly, peering up at him from under his bangs.
"So, are we cool now? Has Axel stopped throwing a jealous fit?"
He was given an annoyed look. "It wasn't a fit."
"Was too."
A chakram slammed into the wall in front of his nose, bringing him to a sharp, startled halt, Axel's arm extending up from it, expression calm. Roxas glared. "What the fuck was that?"
"Was not."
The second chakram crashed down on his other side, pinning the blond between them. Roxas let out a yelp, twisting, trapped between the chakrams and his keyblades, not even able to lower them with Axel standing so close. He shoved at Axel's chest with his elbows. "Let me the fuck out!"
"Say it, Roxas," Axel said, a slight grin in place. "Say, 'Axel wasn't throwing a fit'."
"I won't," the blond spat stubbornly. "Let me go, you asshole! I don't like being stuck in small spaces!"
In response, Axel pressed closer, crushed the boy against the wall, arms stuck out awkwardly with the keyblades. He smirked. "So then say it. It won't be hard."
"You were throwing a fit, and if you don't get off me right now," Roxas snarled, "I'll be next."
"Aha, feisty, Roxie…" He lowered his lips, neck craning awkwardly, and started kissing the side of Roxas' face. Roxas hissed.
"I swear to God, Axel, get off."
"What?" Axel darted out his tongue. "You don't want to continue what we started in the shower?"
"Not while I'm crushed against a wall," Roxas choked incredulously. "Seriously, get off me. Now."
Pouting, Axel withdrew. He released the chakrams, left them planted in the wall, crossed his arms and shuffled back so that Roxas could breathe, could push away and escape the confines, arms dropping at last to his sides. The redhead eyed him uncertainly. "You don't like small spaces? What about those tunnels in Twilight Town? You were okay then."
"I don't like small spaces," Roxas snapped. "Little. I just – I don't like being cramped like that. And what was that hard thing in your pocket? And don't be fucking gross when you answer!"
"Uh… blowtorch?"
"It was bigger than the blowtorch. I said don't!"
Axel wrestled the smirk from his face. "Oh, it's okay, it's just a drink I brought along for the just-in-case situations that sometimes arise."
Roxas regarded him sceptically. "You brought a drink? Like, alcohol?"
The redhead shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no." He winked. "You'll find out for yourself, maybe." He deflated slightly, and added, "Sorry, I guess. For the squishing you in a small space thing…"
Roxas shook his head, let out a low growl. "Forget it. Can we just – ?"
"Is there a problem here?"
Both men let out yells, whipped around, Axel clutching his heart, to find Vincent standing a little way behind them, the tattered hem of his long red cloak swinging gently around his ankles. "How – the fuck – do you move so quietly?" Axel demanded, breathing hard. The man quirked a dark brow, took several graceful steps forward, coming level with Roxas. He paused, looked sideways at the blond, who gazed back nervously. "Are you alright? You two seemed to be having some trouble."
Roxas blinked rapidly, frowning. "Wh-what? Yeah, everything's fine." He added earnestly, "Axel was being an ass, but really, that's nothing new."
The redhead snorted. "Actually, Roxie provoked me. He knows what he did."
"Oh, that's right, I didn't let you win. Silly of me."
Vincent watched silently, lips pursing slightly. The two paused, remembered him, looked over blankly. "Are you – uh, patrolling tonight, Vince?" Axel asked. Vincent nodded briefly. The redhead glowered. "Thanks for telling dad about me, too."
"You're welcome. Happy to help," the man replied quietly. He turned back to the blond with a small smile. "Roxas, I'm glad your bruises are fading already."
Axel, mouth open and ready to continue, paused. There was a slight, uncomfortable silence. Roxas rolled his shoulders, replaced the keyblades upon them. "We never thanked you properly for that," he realised awkwardly. "So, yeah – thanks. I was – pretty dumb going after all three like that."
Vincent studied him for a long moment, then shrugged, started moving again. "I personally would've done the same," he muttered, making the blond blink. He gave a ghost of a smile. "Glad everything's working out with you two." He reached out, clapped Axel's shoulder with his flesh hand as he passed. His gliding steps took him down the hall and around the corner, both boys watching. When at last they couldn't hear his feet any longer, soft as they were, Roxas murmured, "That guy's weird."
Axel nodded fervently, eyebrows high. "That's our Vincent. Still he's pretty cool when you talk to him." He grinned. "Don't be thrown by the whole 'vampire' look he's got going on."
Roxas chuckled slightly, curling his fingers around the blade handles. For a moment, their gazes locked, breaking apart a sheepish moment later. "So, uh, maybe I threw a fit," Axel admitted, scratching his head. Roxas snorted.
"Yeah, of course you did."
The redhead glared, grabbed the sides of the blond's head and ruffled the spikes violently, spilling them down into blue eyes. "You know, that was your cue to say – " His voice went into a shrill falsetto, " – 'Oh, Axel, I've been a fool, take me on the floor!'"
Roxas laughed breathlessly. "Why would I say that?"
Sternly, Axel asked, "How can we have make-up sex if you won't make-up, Roxas?" He grabbed the blond, fingers slipping under his shirt to tickle his sides. Roxas yelped, bucked, keyblades dropping noisily as his hands spasmed.
"Fuck!" A mean grin in place, Axel mercilessly tickled, got him against the wall, legs sinking, the hysterical giggles bubbling and echoing. "Get off! Don't!"
"Well, well, I didn't know you were this bad," Axel teased, continuing with the assault. "Say the magic words and I'll stop!"
"Please! Please?" Roxas gasped.
"Nope!" Axel declared brightly. "That's not it!"
Roxas choked on his mirth. "Ah – ah! You weren't throwing a fit!"
"Sorry, that doesn't work anymore," the redhead sang, long fingers scrabbling, nails intensifying the sensation agonisingly. "I already admitted it, so now there's a new magic phrase!" He stopped suddenly, crushed Roxas against the wall, breathing heavily into the blond's ear. "Can you guess what it is?"
Heart thundering, coughing and tittering, startled, Roxas could only pant and gape. Axel squeezed his hips hard. "A-Axel…" The redhead pressed their noses together.
"Wow. You got it right. Your prize is a kiss."
He wound his hands around the blond's neck and crushed their lips together, tongue pushing into Roxas' instantly parted mouth, licking the muscle he found there before breaking away and pecking a trail down the blond's throat. "You thought I forgot the shower, didn't you?" he growled, nipping a collarbone. "Thought I was going to be a good boy… and just patrol… on the one night that nothing is happening…"
Roxas' eyes slid shut, chest expanding with a sharp intake of air as Axel's fingers crawled up to his nipples and tweaked the hardening buds. Then they flattened out, the man pressing against his chest, a slight frown in place. He paused in his ministrations, waited for Roxas to open his eyes, dazed blue swinging around to meet the green. "Wha – why'd you stop?"
"Roxas…" Axel's hand pushed up through the collar of Roxas' shirt, cupping the boy's cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin. "I'm not going to say this to get a response… I'm just saying it because I want to… I love you, okay? I love you."
Roxas blinked, nodded, uncertainty striking his features, averting his gaze. Axel smiled gently, stroked the hair around his face. "Just wanted to remind you…"
The kiss this time was deeper, less of an attack. Roxas sucked in through his nose, frowning as he returned the emotion. He might not be able to speak it, but he felt it. He felt the tightness around his heart, the warmth in his stomach, everything telling him that the day was close when he'd be saying it back.
For a long while, there was just the wet sound of lips, of tongues, small inhalations, slow exhalations. When Axel's hand dipped low, entered the waistband of his pants, slid down to the hot skin beneath his boxers, Roxas groaned, tipped his head back. Pleasure sparked through his nerve-endings, sent everything white, pure. Axel's mouth was on his throat, fingers squeezing gently, and it was all Roxas could to do just… stay conscious under the onslaught.
There was a sharp, loud crackle of static, a voice speaking urgently in the background. Axel jerked slightly, the motion travelling through his whole body, causing Roxas to moan breathily. His lips lifted from the blond's skin, hands pausing, eliciting a small whimper from the teen. "Axel…"
"Ssh," the redhead whispered against his neck. Roxas scowled.
"What do you mean, ssh?" he muttered.
Their radios crackled again, Zexion's voice buzzing through, muffled. Axel sighed, hit his head carefully against the wall beside Roxas, removed his hand from the blond's pants, the other from his shirt, Roxas gasping at the sudden loss of contact. Sending him an infinitely apologetic look, Axel unclipped the radio from his belt, took a couple of steps to the side to allow Roxas to recover, pressed the button on the side of the device and snapped, "What? What do you want?"
Zexion's voice murmured, Axel pressing it to his ear to hear better, while Roxas slumped against the wall, panting, staring blankly. A humming had set up under his skin, pleasurable even after the fact, a heat that hovered. He closed his eyes, lifting trembling hands up to his face, wiping away the fine sheen of sweat, touching his lips and concentrating on regaining enough oxygen to stand on his own again.
A little way along, Axel said, "What?" Zexion continued to speak quickly.
Roxas heard footsteps nearby, coming along from the T-intersection of the corridor up ahead. Vincent returning, judging from the lightness, the quickness.
"But they come in groups. Why would there be just one?"
Roxas straightened, smoothed his clothing, tried to look less ruffled, less – obvious. His pants were half unzipped. He quickly dragged the fly back up, blushing slightly, hands burning, a little thrill of anticipation racing through his veins as he thought of what had been, what would be. He cleared his throat.
"Okay, okay, we'll keep a lookout. Yes. Yes! We'll be fine. Yes, I'll look after him, asshole. I love him. Fine."
Axel hooked the radio back onto his belt, sighed, tousled a hand through the long red spikes, turned back to Roxas, whose head was tilted slightly to the side, staring down the corridor.
"Riku?"
Axel's eyebrows quirked up, before drawing into a frown. "Riku?" He walked to the blond, whose eyes were trained on the end of the hall, around the corner from him. He glanced at the redhead.
"He just walked past…"
"He's not scheduled for tonight."
"Roxas?"
The blond's face twisted back to the intersection, he took a step forward, Axel joining him in that moment, still frowning. "Riku, how come you're – "
He slammed back, letting out a grunt, followed by an agonised cry, the long blade pinning his shoulder to the wall extending back into the black-gloved hands of a man with long silver hair. Roxas let out a low wail as Axel's chin lifted, the cords of his throat jutting out, breath hissing in between clenched teeth. His gloved hands rose to the narrow blade, uselessly tugging.
"You'd be the boyfriend then," the man said, voice deep, a delighted grin splitting his lips, aqua eyes dancing.
"You'd be – the intruder – " Axel choked. Roxas darted beneath the sword, fell to his knees and grabbed up the keyblades, whipped around, staggered back up and lunged. The man twisted the sword, bringing a scream from Axel, wrenched it free from bone and flesh, steel stained brightly, whirling on the inexperienced blond and blocking the twin downward slashes. "Hello again, Roxas," he said happily. "I see you've been keeping yourself well."
Axel collapsed, gripping his shoulder, face contorted in excruciation. "Axel!" Roxas bared his teeth, brought the keyblades around in a cracking blow, stopped easily. Steel slid across metal, Roxas yanked his weapons back and stabbed with growing desperation, no hope. The man was toying with him, a smirk in place as he deflected the hits, a hand curled elegantly behind his body, dancing easily out of range. His blade flicked up, found Roxas' throat, stopped the boy before he could lunge further.
"I missed you." His voice was soft, the smile manic. "Did you miss me, too?"
"Roxas! Run!" Axel roared from the floor. The silver-haired man's expression fell into a moue of displeasure, the sword dropping away from Roxas, flipping back to its owner, rising high and preparing to stab downward in a single smooth motion.
.o.O.o.
The sun was lower in the sky than it previously had been. The temperature had dropped, a slight breeze fluttering Roxas' hair, the skirts of his mother's white dress, the pair of them standing at the edge of the sandpit and watching the children on the swings, the red-haired one pushing towards the sky while the blond struggled to get a regular rhythm in motion.
There was an edge of urgency nagging at the back of Roxas' mind. "I shouldn't be here," he muttered.
"I don't feel well, Roxas," his mother said softly, her hands folded gracefully over her stomach. "Will you stay?"
"I don't think I can," he replied. "There's something calling to me."
She frowned. "You're leaving me already? You don't have to stay always – just for long enough. Stay until I feel better."
"Mom – I have some bones to break."
She canted her head to the side, smiled faintly. "You're breaking bones for mother?"
He shook his head firmly. "Not for you. For that one." He nodded at the redhead swinging, voice raised in a joyous laugh as he lifted high in the air.
"Ah, I see." Her eyes turned onto the taller of the ghosts with a speculative gleam, a hint of understanding. "Well, we all do what we must."
Roxas nodded. "I have to go now. Axel needs me."
He was already alone again. His mother was gone. The children were gone.
.o.O.o.
Roxas woke up two seconds away from the man's left leg, skidding along on his knees, didn't bother to try and cut, just smashed with the back of the keyblade, cracked the metal across the bone. The silver-haired man screamed, doubling over at the pain, eyes lighting up with green inner fire as his fury pierced the blond. He forgot Axel, forgot his intent, saw only the blond, the cause of the agony. He straightened slowly, teeth ground together, jaw pulsing, and started forwards.
Roxas was still on the floor, gaping up. He started scrambling back as, with only a limp, the man came after him, dripping blood from his lower lip where he'd bitten it, spit and madness dripping from his mouth. As he got near, Roxas raised the keyblades, had them knocked away to the side. A large black boot came stomping down on the teen's forearms, eliciting a wail, fingers jumping apart, keyblades slipping away. The man bent, gripped the front of the boy's shirt, hauled him to his feet, rammed him into the wall.
"You're just like him," he hissed, before bringing the hilt of his sword across Roxas' face in a blinding, skin-splitting blow. Red sprayed finely across the wall beside the blond's head, spilling down his chin in an instant. The world went momentarily silent. The second blow, knuckles solidified by the sword, sent his head spinning the other way. Poisonous whispers in his ear: "Just like him, little orphan. You should have been happy to see me! Stupid little war-orphan. You will learn your place."
A punch to his stomach, vicious, hard, accurately placed, knowledgeable knuckles cutting deep. Another hard hit across the face, an explosion of pain, of tears, of stars and lines and visual static.
"You shouldn't have run! You shouldn't have run!"
Fists thudding, leather connecting with flesh, Roxas growing more and more distant, a tooth coming loose, nose ceasing to exist, blinded by sweat and blood and spit.
"Stupid Cloud! Stupid fucking Cloud! You shouldn't have left!"
Roxas was balled in against himself, arms up to feebly try and block the blows, not allowed to fall, not allowed to give up and just drop. Suddenly the man stopped, seized him by the shoulders, shook him hard.
"Why did you leave? Why did you do this?!"
A sharp breath, Roxas a pathetic mess, mewling faintly, body trying hard not to inhale its own fluids. The hands gentled, fingers running through his hair. "But you're not him, after all. You just look like him, don't you, Roxas? Same blond hair, same blue eyes… you could have been brothers…"
Numb lips, bleeding teeth, and the man leaned in for a kiss, Roxas unresisting, unfeeling as the thin, metallic taste was sucked from his mouth and into another, a foreign tongue probing to see how many of the little mastication bones remained standing tall.
A sound, a strange sound, a watery, raining sound in the abrupt silence. The man pulled back, frowning, head twisting to the side, where Axel was crouched, eyes viciously hot and hard, a bottle in his hand, the murky liquid within spraying out, dribbling onto the ground, wetting the side of the silver-haired man's pants, his arm, the exposed section of his turned chest, the tips of his hair. He let out a small noise of disgust, feet sliding slightly as he turned. Axel grinned wickedly, threw the bottle aside with a hollow clatter, pulled the blowtorch from his pocket and lit it up.
It was then that the smell translated, the strong reek of kerosene quickly billowing through the confined space. Teal eyes narrowed at green.
"Let Roxie go," the redhead said, crooked smile in place, "or you go 'poof' now. Immolation surprise." He staggered to his feet, left arm curled uselessly against his body. The torch bobbed with his every motion, a knife of blue, the air around it swirling and swelling. He left a pool of crimson on the ground, a long smear along the wall. His eyes narrowed, the smile snatching away into an ugly scowl when the man didn't move to comply. He brandished the torch menacingly. "Let Roxas go, or I toss this at your head. All that pretty hair will burn."
The edges of the man's lips tugged back into a twisted grimacing grin, amusement, insanity, and he slowly wrapped his arms around the shivering, helpless form of the blond. He pulled Roxas close, rubbed against him, transferring the flammable fluid, sharing the danger. He turned, the teen clasped to his chest, hanging low, hands dangling down, fingertips twitching every now and then. "Are you going to burn Roxas, too?" he asked happily, eyes having never once left Axel's.
The redhead's expression had slackened, eyes turning dull, at the defeat, at seeing Roxas head-on like that. "What are you going to do?"
The man laughed, nuzzled his face into Roxas' hair. "I think I'll take my Roxie and go."
Axel flared, nearly crying out, nearly throwing the torch and damning the consequences, because anything was better than this psycho having Roxas, calling him his own. He trembled, shook, mouth opening, a small, anguished noise escaping. His tongue swelled, throat revolting, bitter saliva flooding his mouth, heart clutching.
"Let him go! You don't need him!"
"Oh, but I do," the man responded, smiling thinly, pinching one beaten cheek as if the boy were some cherubic child to be adored instead of a bleeding, broken teen unconscious in his arms. "Roxas belongs to me now. I've decided I quite like him. He's got that fight in him." His eyes narrowed, lips pressing tightly together. "His shell will make a fine puppet."
Axel cracked, tears streaming down his face, demanded, "Who are you?"
The man's gaze ticked sideways to the blowtorch. "Shut that thing off. Throw it away. Then I'll tell you."
Axel hesitated, realised there was nothing he could do with it anyway. He clicked off the flame, tossed it backwards, heard it hit the ground, flip, roll out of reach, leaving him utterly defenceless. The long sword was still firmly grasped in the man's hands, blade touching the floor. He smirked.
"Good," he said softly. "It seems there are those who can be trained after all."
Axel choked, asked, "Who the fuck are you? What do you want with Roxas?"
The man hitched the boy up, nestled his nose tenderly into the mottled flesh of his cheek, kissed it gently. "My name is Sephiroth. And I desire this boy. I want to own him, and put him on a leash, and play with him. He is just like Cloud…"
"Cloud?" Axel burst out, hands forming fists. "What's he got to do with it?"
Sephiroth snarled, "What business is it of yours?" His tone flattened. "He doesn't even matter anymore. He left, and Roxas is mine now." He raised his sword, pointing it violently at the redhead, eyes blazing. "And there's nothing you, or anyone else can do about it! He – belongs – to me! I'll slit his throat before I see him with you again!"
"Guess it's a good thing that your eyes have only got a few seconds left, then," Axel replied curtly, making the silver-haired man falter slightly.
Larxene attacked from behind, taser jamming deep into the man's back, a sharp jolt travelling through his body, limbs spasming out, sword dropping with a clang, Roxas simply slipping to the ground. His knees hit, body crumpling backwards, skull thunking as it connected. Sephiroth fell sideways against the wall, Larxene darting in and gathering Roxas up, half-dragging, half-carrying him in a run past Axel. The redhead had spun to the wall where his chakrams resided, used his good arm to rip one free, bringing chunks of chipboard fluttering out. He ran towards Sephiroth as Larxene dragged Roxas the other way.
"Why isn't he dead?" he barked, as the man pushed away from the wall, head dipped low, hair hanging across his face in a silver curtain.
"It's still fucking around," she snapped back, of her taser. "Be glad I came at all!"
Axel got to Sephiroth as he was reaching for his sword, a large boot swinging up, cracking the man in the face, sending his head snapping back, hands snatching away from the hilt on the ground. Hair flew, blood flew, Axel growled and wound up with the chakram, sent it spinning down the hallway. It missed Sephiroth by a bare inch as the man, seeing the danger a split-second before it hit, threw himself to the side. The leather encasing his right arm was split open, the flesh cut deep, but the death Axel had been anticipating was cheated from him. His other chakram was still in the wall, but Sephiroth was running back towards his sword, and the redhead knew he wouldn't be able to defend himself one-handed.
He turned on heel, sprinted after Larxene, snatched up his blowtorch, cool to touch, as he swept by it, heard Sephiroth chasing in his wake. Roxas. He had to get to Roxas.
He raced around the corner, gasping for air, dizzy and weak from blood-loss, heard the man's heavy breathing, the hiss, the brutal fury radiating forward, snapping at Axel's heels. He saw Larxene, bellowed, "Hurry the fuck up, bitch!"
She paused to scoop Roxas up properly, legs dangling over her right arm, head pressed against her shoulder and breast. She started running in earnest, the flat heels of her shoes clicking rapidly. Axel followed, gaining on them, and when he felt the threat of Sephiroth's sword drawing near, he bounced to a stop, whipped around, torch already alight again, hissing loudly, intense and ready to ignite.
Sephiroth slid to a halt, as Axel brought it up, eyes wild. "I'll run at you, and take you down," the redhead vowed. "If you take another step. I've got kerosene on me, too – we'll both go up, but at least you won't get Roxas." He saw the man's hesitation, his doubt. "I'll fucking do it," Axel roared, stabbing the flame forward as he spoke. "Roxas is mine. I'll defend him from anyone. I will kill you, I will kill me, I will fucking destroy all of Hollow Bastion if it means keeping him safe." His eyes danced, burned, shone with the obsession that had carried him through the long, dark years, the one point of light that kept him going in a world barren and empty.
Sephiroth saw. And decided he didn't want to die for some blond boy that wasn't even Cloud.
His eyes found Axel's, conceding the fight. "Don't let him out of your sight," he warned softly. "Because I've claimed him now. He belongs to me, and I will return for him."
"I'll set this whole fucking castle on fire," Axel promised shakily.
The man's gaze flicked down to the ground, came back up smiling. "You've got a little blood on you."
He walked away, and it was all Axel could do to not pass out in the middle of the corridor.
