CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The sun had set further still over the playground, creating pools of shadows, crevices of darkness in amongst the spears of amber light. There was still a stifling warmth hanging on the air, but it was underlaid with a chill that crawled under Roxas' skin and got him shivering. He frowned, looking around slowly. The place appeared to be empty. There were no cries, no squeals, no little ghosts sending the sand kicking up. There was a loneliness in the air, a hollowness.
His feet took him slowly across the white sand, hands chafing at his arms. He moved through the abandoned equipment, eyes scanning for signs of life, of death.
"Have you come to see mother?"
Roxas twisted, saw the white figure walking around the edge of the playground, steps measured and even. Even from here, he could see the bony-thinness of her arms, hands clasped in front of her legs, shoulders jerking with each step. Frowning in concern, he started across the lot towards her. "Mom?" he called. "Mom, are you alright?"
She lifted her head, covered by a white net veil, obscuring her face, though letting her hair tumble freely down her back. She didn't look at the blond. "Mom, wait!" Roxas reached her, stretched out to touch her, gasped as his warm fingers connected with her icy flesh. There was a resounding crack, bringing him whipping around, hand snatching back, eyes wide. It took him a moment to realise what had caused the noise – he saw the see-saw lurch drunkenly, its freshly splintered edge pointing up the sky as the seat bounced once, twice, and settled. A massive rock, out of nowhere, had dropped and crushed the opposite seat.
For a long minute, he stared, heart thundering. A piercing of fear stabbed deep, a sudden certainty that one of the children had been sitting there. Letting out a panicked cry, he took off across the sand, shoes sinking and skidding, jacket flapping around his waist, the air growing thick and sultry. His quick, quiet steps took him to the chunk of stone, almost as tall as Roxas himself. He swallowed thickly, gasping through his mouth, eyes darting around the base of the rock with terror. He circled it swiftly, searching for little hands, little arms, little mangled corpse beneath the crush.
Nothing.
Roxas let out a sigh that was almost a sob, crouching for a moment, taking hold of his head, trying to calm the pounding through his veins. A hand touched his shoulder, bringing his face jerking to the side, eyes falling on the greyed claws curling around him, once fingers slender and young. With a heavy groan, the jungle gym across the playground bowed suddenly. It held, but was no longer shining like new, looked old, looked tired, a layer of rust coating the chipped metal. A fresh burst of cold swept through the area. Roxas raised his gaze, saw the veil, no hint of what was behind it.
"Did you come for mother?" Her voice was a dry whisper, rasping in her throat.
"M-mom?"
She knelt beside him, wasted arms enveloping him, drawing him against her emaciated form, sharp corners digging into Roxas' flesh, his breathing short and shallow, eyes wide and darting, muscles tense.
"Mother misses you, Roxas." Her fingers ran through his hair, nails catching every now and then against the scalp, making him wince. "Make sure to return to mother, yes?"
Roxas swallowed, nodded slowly. "I miss you, too, mom."
There was a sigh. "I wish I could see you. You feel so far away. I wish you would return."
"Return where?"
"Home, dear. Come home to me. As soon as you can… I need my boy to feel better again." One hand came around to cup his face, turn it towards her, towards the white wall where her face should have been, her kind eyes, her smile, blanketed from him. Her skin was parched against his, chapped, almost painful to have touching. "You don't forget mother, and mother won't forget you. We will always be one, as long as you continue to return. The boy has seen to it. The bad boy has made certain we remain together always, my dear son."
"Bad boy? Who's a bad boy?" Roxas frowned. "Not Axel?"
She laughed quietly, and it was that same tinkling sound that reminded him of being tucked into bed, the fullness of contentment in his chest. "Your love is a good boy, just like you."
"So who's the bad boy?"
She patted his cheek, made him flinch. "Just make sure to remember the left leg, Roxas. Bones have yet to be broken."
.o.O.o.
Dawn came to the castle, peeping over the top of the mountains, stabbing light through the darkness. DiZ moved through the corridors quietly, feet barely making noise, robes rustling softly. The halls were deserted, all occupants but five either sleeping, or dumbstruck and waiting for his presence. His hands twitched slightly, fingers interlocked behind his back, the stray end of the bandages surrounding his face fluttering as he walked. It was a rare occasion that brought him from his study, and it surprised him not that Axel was part of the reason. Nor the new boy, Roxas. That one was made for Axel… had been stirring trouble since day one of his arrival… had inspired it in Axel before he had even stepped foot out of Twilight Town.
He traversed the old passages sedately, mind calm, working carefully through the information he had garnered, seeking a conclusion, a solution. He entered the dining hall, saw the sun glowing behind the mountains, nodded to it in greeting, approached the table at the far end, where those involved, and those concerned, were gathered.
Leon stood quickly upon noticing his arrival, the others turning to look, following suit, some awkward, others respectful. Cloud just looked… confused. Zack stood quietly beside him, a hand on his back, present. DiZ took his position at the head of the table.
"I have spoken to Aerith," he said abruptly, tongue rolling with the 'r' in the flower woman's name. "She says the boys will be fine."
Collective sighs of relief, Cloud's chin dipping to his chest, hands clamped behind his back, Zack's hand shifting up to his shoulder and squeezing.
"She, Zexion and Demyx will stay with them at the hospital until afternoon, and ride up to the castle with the next wave of deliveries," the man added. He swept in front of his chair and sat regally, the others taking the opportunity to collapse into their own chairs, Larxene crossing her legs carefully, a scowl in place, Cloud stiff, Leon's elbows set on the surface, hands over his mouth, watching the blond. Sora, dazed and sleepy, one of the few full technicians along with Luxord, slumped over the table. Riku, insisting on joining them despite his lack of involvement and lower status, laid his head gently against the boy's spine. Yuffie was grim, hair tousled, the chair beside her empty.
DiZ brought his hands up and elegantly folded them on the table, his golden eyes finding each of them in turn. "Tell me what you have found out since the intruder left."
"Vince is still tracking him," Yuffie grunted, a hand holding up her head, fingers raked through the soft hair. "He switched off his phone, which means he doesn't want to be heard… He must be close to the guy…"
"Sephiroth…" Cloud muttered, Zack's grip tightening on him. The blond took his face in his hands, sucking in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
"That's the General, is it not?" DiZ asked sharply. "Zanarkand's celebrated General Sephiroth?" He thought it over. "Impossible."
"Don't I know it," the blond mumbled. Larxene looked at him sharply.
"That's the name Axel said. He said the guy called himself Sephiroth."
"I wish Aerith had let me speak to the boy," DiZ said darkly. "She is far too protective of him. She wouldn't let me question him in his injured state any more than he already had been."
"It's probably for the best," Zack said quietly from beside Cloud. "He couldn't have told you anything pertinent."
"Nothing pertinent?" Leon's hands dropped to the table, wrists arching over as his knuckles rapped the surface. His expression was disbelieving, distasteful. "He was there. He saw the whole thing, and was conscious at the end of it. He told us everything that happened, and you think it isn't pertinent?"
Cloud shook his head, a frustrated motion, hands balling at his forehead. "Leon – you don't understand. Zack doesn't mean that Axel didn't know anything… just… nothing important…"
Leon stared. Silence reigned around the table, all eyes upon the three men, Yuffie barely containing her fury. "Okay…" he said at last. "I'm listening, Cloud. What do you know that we obviously don't?"
Yuffie exploded. "How about the fact that he's a soldier?" she barked across the table, drawing the attention to her small, shaking frame. Cloud's azure eyes widened, hands falling, arms folding against the metal top. He swallowed, as the eyes of the gathered turned promptly back to him. Yuffie sneered. "I heard you. Last night, after dinner. And I saw Zack give you those dog tags. What, did you drop them on the battlefield, and your dear friend tracked you down to return them?"
His eyebrows knitted together, head dropping sharply. He was a long time answering, plunging in only when Leon tersely asked, "Well?"
His eyes fluttered closed, refusing to lift his face. His voice was soft. "I – I never lied to you. I just… didn't tell you."
Yuffie's palms smacked the table, her shoulders hunched over aggressively. "You failed to tell the truth! Cid's retired – you're still in the army. You're Zanarkand. You have been all this time!"
"I'm Zanarkand," Zack interjected sharply. "And you found a way to tolerate me. Why are you being so harsh on Cloud? Why would he want to tell you anything, knowing you'd react this way?" His dark blue eyes bored into the ninja's angry hazel. "Leave him alone. You obviously didn't even hear the entire conversation."
"Cloud can fight his own battles," snapped Leon. "We don't need you speaking for him."
Zack shot him a harsh look. "He's my friend. If you think I'm going to let you people gang up on him – "
"'You people'?" Yuffie bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Hey, does everyone mind shutting the fuck up?" Sora's cutting words hung in the air, slicing the heat. His cerulean eyes found Yuffie. He didn't say a word, but after a long moment, she sank back into her seat, teeth grinding. "I think you've all forgotten what this meeting is about," the boy continued, voice like a whip. "Roxas and Axel. That's it. Who the fuck cares about Cloud being a soldier when they're lying in hospital, both horribly hurt? I just want to know who did this to them."
Silence fell tense across the gathered. "Well said," commented DiZ quietly. He lifted his chin slightly. "Cloud – you were saying?"
Again, Yuffie wanted to leap up and speak, but a cold-eyed Riku, arm wrapped around Sora's waist, stared her down. She bit her tongue, subsided, threw herself back and crossed her arms.
Cloud, sitting shell-shocked throughout the exchange, lifted his gaze slowly, meeting no one's, looking past them all, features slack. "I – didn't want to live that life anymore," he said dully. "I didn't want to hurt more than I was." He returned his eyes to the table. "So I left. I ran away. From – from Sephiroth. Because… I couldn't stand it anymore."
"You know the man that did this to Axel and Roxas?" Leon demanded. Cloud flinched away minutely from his tone, Leon earning a fierce glare from the raven-haired man at his side. The blond shook his head slightly.
"I don't know him, Leon. I knew him." At the blank looks he received, he heaved a sigh, thumbs fidgeting with each other. "I – I was his lover. Sephiroth's. He was the General… and I was his."
"His bitch," Yuffie snapped. Cloud lifted his chin, let out a short bark of laughter a moment later.
"Call it what you want, Yuf. It doesn't matter anymore." He took a deep breath. "The thing is – Sephiroth… didn't do this. To Axel, to Roxas – it wasn't him. And I – I know that Axel said he thinks that – it was Sephiroth that day in the valley… but it wasn't him then, either." He raised his eyes, met Yuffie's burning glare, slid across to Leon's blank grey eyes. "Sephiroth's dead. He killed himself. And his brothers. Two weeks ago." He shuddered suddenly, drew in on himself, head sinking, hands clamping in his lap, knees pressing together. Zack shifted closer, wrapped his arm more firmly around the blond. His gaze was hard on Leon.
"How do you know?" Sora asked tiredly. Then he shook his head. "Stupid question. Zack?" He looked at the man, who nodded.
"It's why I'm here. I came to deliver the news."
Cloud laughed curtly. "He told me just last night. After dinner. I'm still… kind of dealing with it."
"What a load of bullshit," Yuffie snapped. "If the General Sephiroth had killed himself, we'd have found out ages ago. Hollow Bastion would be dancing in the streets!"
"It was kept quiet," Zack responded abruptly. "The war might be over, but that doesn't mean morale doesn't matter anymore. If the troops found out that the top general took not only himself out, but three of the best soldiers the army has known as well, how the hell do you think they'd all react?" His expression was angry, bitter. "You might want to lump us all as heartless bastards, but all those soldiers are just one man after another doing what he thinks is right. They deserve better than knowing that their general was so repelled by himself and his brothers he chose to exact revenge on behalf of all you."
Yuffie blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
Zack let out a snort of disgust, leaning back in his chair, fingers gripping Cloud's shoulder tightly.
"Actually," DiZ entered the conversation at last, stirred from his observation, "it's not a lie. The General is dead." In answer to Zack's surprise, he added dryly, "Reluctant though I may be, I am the political head of Hollow Bastion – these things have a habit of getting around the upper echelons."
Larxene leaned forward, frowning. "So you're saying that guy last night – whoever he said he was – isn't actually Sephiroth?" She thought for a moment. "Maybe it's a different Sephiroth? Axel didn't think automatically of the general when he heard the name. More than one guy?"
Cloud shook his head sharply, sucking a breath. "Only one with silver hair and a long sword. Hard to imitate…"
"Yet someone managed, if this is all to be believed," Leon said with a scowl. "Because a man with a long sword and silver hair tried to kill Axel and kidnap Roxas." He looked at Zack. "Why would a man like that kill himself? And all his brothers? Did he just go insane, or what?"
Cloud chuckled hollowly, a startled noise to begin with, before melting into laughter hard enough to be called howls, tears springing from his eyes. With the occupants of the table staring, DiZ included, he leaned over the table and pounded it with his fist. Zack, worried, patted him on the back. "Come on, Spike, snap out of it."
Cloud waved him away, pushing himself up, face contorted with giggles, smearing the moisture from his cheeks. It took a minute for him to regain composure, breathing hard, gasping in every now and then. "Did – did Seph go insane, you ask?" He chuckled again, coughed hard, a fist clamped to his lips, eyes squeezing shut. After a long moment, he cleared his throat, took a long, shuddering breath. He lowered his hand back to his lap, smiled in a disturbed fashion, nodded. "Yeah. Seph lost his mind, Leon. Why – why do you think I left when I did? He – he was going nuts. Bit by bit – he was…" He stopped, lowered his head to the table, pressed the hot skin of his forehead to the cold steel. "Oh, man. That could've been me. If I hadn't left when I did… He'd have taken me out, too."
"He tried to take Roxas last night, to replace you," Larxene said, squinting. "You still think the dude is dead?"
Cloud stilled. "I don't know who that was… but it wasn't Seph."
"How do you know for sure, though?" Leon demanded.
"I saw the body," Zack interjected quietly. "I was called in to identify it. Other than Cloud, I was closest to him. Believe me – you could throw him into a weir with rocks tied to his feet, and he wouldn't get any deader."
There was a silence at the table, the information sinking in, swirling around with ever more questions. Sora closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly, Riku's hand sliding over his naked shoulder. Larxene huffed out a breath, arms crossing tighter over her waist. Leon stared at Cloud, who gazed at the table.
"So," said Zack softly, "we're brought back to the question of who. And how they know Cloud… What's the connection?"
"How many silver-haired freaks are there running around?" Larxene muttered. Her eyes darted up briefly. "Sorry, Riku."
Riku's brows rose, he shook his head. "Oh, no, it's cool. I mean… there was the General, then his brothers… I've read about them. Their war-crimes were atrocious. Categorise all you want – I don't mind being the exception."
Cloud's eyes slipped shut again, chin dropping to his chest, leg setting up a restless jig under the table. The sound of his shoe squeaking filled the air. Leon's gaze, narrow, was stuck to him. "How could you be with someone like that?" he asked in a low voice. "Didn't you know what he was like?"
"Look, you don't know what he was like," the blond muttered. "He wasn't bad."
"Not bad?" Yuffie shrieked. He gave a shrill, short laugh. "He destroyed Wutai, Cloud! We were in Zanarkand's path, so they just rolled over us! He was the one giving the orders! The man was prime fucking evil!"
"He wasn't," Cloud burst out desperately, face coming up. "He was a good soldier, that's all! He was too good!"
"You've got a skewed idea of good," Sora said sharply. "There's a difference, Cloud, between a good soldier and a ruthless one."
The man grated his teeth together, an anxious expression on his face. "Look – you don't… He really wasn't bad. He was good in his heart."
"You mean that cold, black thing in his chest?" Yuffie was on her feet again. "Look, I see nothing else worth discussing here," she snapped. "We don't know who did it, since Cloud's darling is already six-feet under, and Roxas and Axel are being taken care of, so why the fuck am I still hanging around?" She pushed away, stalked from the table, heading for the door. "Leave it to Vincent," she called. "He'll find the guy, shoot him through the head, and then we'll know for sure."
She vanished through the doorway. There was… nothing much else to say. After a moment, Cloud stood quietly, went to the broad windows overlooking the brightening world. Zack budged, as if wanting to rise and follow, but allowed the blond whatever privacy he needed. Leon's head was tipped back, legs stretched out, breathing slowly.
Cloud stared out blankly for a long minute. His clasped hands, behind his back, fell to his sides, trembled, formed tight fists. He coughed once.
Then he screamed, and punched the glass, once, twice, cursing violently, knuckles bloodied in moments. Leon was up in an instant, lunging across the room beside Zack, the two men grabbing the furious blond, wrenching him back from the shivering pane.
"Spike! Cut it out!" Zack yelled as Cloud thrashed and writhed, shirt riding up, feet scraping the ground as he struggled to continue the attack on nothing and no one.
"Cloud! That's enough!" Leon barked. "Keep it together!"
With a growing growl, Cloud went still, then tore from their hands, dancing lightly on the balls of his toes. He steadied, damaged hands shaking, snapping down to his sides. He caught Leon's gaze, rage glinting in the blue depths. "I – am so sick," he hissed at the brunet, "of you judging me." He turned to the assemblage, who were wide-eyed and shocked, Riku and Sora on their feet, ready to intervene. He cried, "I didn't do anything wrong!"
When Leon tried to touch his arm, he jerked away roughly, arms wheeling, blood droplets flying through the air. With one last torn look, the blond turned and left, much in the way of Yuffie. Zack tried calling after him, "Cloud…!" He was ignored, and their number was reduced by another. Zack clicked his tongue, scratched ferociously at his head for a second. He glared at Leon. "You're really some kind of asshole, you know that?"
Leon flared, snarling, "Me? The only reason you're even here is to tell Cloud his boyfriend killed himself! Where were you the last six weeks, when he'd sit in the corner of the table just to be able to stare out the fucking window every mealtime? Where were you when he was like some hollow fucking gourd with human skin?"
"I was trying to not find him!" the raven-haired man yelled back. "If I'd found him, Seph would have found him. Cloud didn't want to be found!"
"So, despite being such a good man," Leon sneered, "Cloud still ran away. He ran? Why the hell couldn't he just leave like a normal person?"
"Because normal people don't love the general of the Zanarkand army," Zack spat. "And normal people don't wake up with their lover carving his arm up for the pretty patterns it makes at the breakfast table at two in the morning!" He drew back, calming down but no less angry. "You can judge him, but he's right – Seph was a good man, and a better killer. It's the whole reason he's dead now. Imagine being a merciless killer with a heart, Leon – and then imagine living in peacetime. Then, try to picture yourself as that tortured person's lover, and maybe you'll have a shade of understanding for what Spike went through." He glared at everyone at the table. "I'm finding Cloud. Then we're waiting until Aerith comes back. Then the three of us are going to have a long talk, and you just might find yourself minus a couple people you pretended to appreciate before they didn't fit your ideals."
"You're not taking Aerith away!" Leon boomed. Zack whipped around to him, disgusted.
"You know, she really wasn't the one I thought you'd worry about most." He shook his head. "Forget you, man. Cloud's better off alone, with me and Aer."
A flash of panic crossed the brunet's face, before clamping down under the regular dispassionate expression. "Maybe you're right."
The meeting broke apart.
.o.O.o.
Roxas woke up in the hospital in a white room. His eyes cracked slowly open, blurred, the right one swollen almost completely shut. He breathed in slowly, felt himself swimming through a fog. His fingers twitched against the tight sheets pinning his waist to the bed. His mind was empty, blank, gaze content to rest upon the ceiling. The sound of a page turning drew his lagging attention, brought his head turning carefully to the side. Zexion sat cross-legged in a chair next to the curtain-obscured window. The man held a small novel in one hand, the thumb of the other perched absently upon his tongue. The hand hold the book was encased in a white plaster-cast. Roxas closed his eyes.
"Zexion…"
The man looked up sharply, tongue darting back into his mouth, the book snapping shut. "Roxas?" He stood, slipping the novel onto the chair, coming over to the bed. He rested his knuckles on the mattress, studying the boy. After a moment, in which Roxas neither moved or spoke, Zexion faltered uncertainly. He leaned closer. "Are you awake?"
"…Yeah…" the blond sighed faintly. The man blinked, frowned, a hand tenderly touching the side of his face.
"Are you in pain? They've got you on painkillers, but I can get them to up the dosage if it still hurts."
"Where's… Axel?" Roxas mumbled, numb, not even feeling the fingers brush the hair from his face.
"He's in the next room over," Zexion said softly. "Aerith is with him. He's going to be fine."
"I want him."
The man shook his head. "You can't have him. He needs rest even more than you do. He's lost a lot of blood." He smiled slightly. "If we let him see you the way that you are now, we'd never get him back in his own room."
"Even more reason to bring him to me." Roxas' eyes flashed open, hand jerking out to wrap around the heavy cast, weak and clumsy. "Please. I want him."
Zexion gently disconnected the fingers. "When you're stronger, you can go to him, Roxas. But you need to stay put for a couple of days."
"Days?" Roxas' voice cracked. His eyes slipped shut, already exhausted by the brief encounter, words slurring. He shook his head minutely. "I want him…"
Zexion was already walking back to his chair, seeing Roxas' losing battle, resigning himself back to sitting, reading, waiting. Dem would be back soon with the coffee, cheap crap that it was. "Sleep, Roxas. Your body needs it. The sooner you're better, the sooner you get Axel."
Against his will, the blond was swept back out of the room and into the darkness.
Demyx entered a few minutes later, dressed in a woolly jacket and a thick scarf, toting two large Styrofoam cups and a bright smile. He glanced over at the motionless figure on the bed. "How's our invalid?" he whispered loudly, passing the beverage to the grateful Zexion. The man popped the lid off, sniffing the murk within.
"He woke up for a minute. Asked for Axel."
Demyx snorted, taking the seat against the opposite wall, hunching down in his warm clothing. "He's just like Axel, then. He won't give up about it. Poor Aerith's just about going nuts." He grinned briefly. "I think Axel's enjoying cracking her cool."
Zexion refitted the cap on the cup, lined up the small drinking hole, and sipped delicately. He grimaced at the bitter flavour. "Sugar?"
"It eats it," the blond replied earnestly. "I put like, three sachet thingies in. There's enough sugar in that sucker to rot your teeth."
The slate-haired man sighed, shrugged, took another swallow. For a while, there was silence. Demyx unwound the massive scarf from his neck. "It's chilly out there," he murmured. Zexion shot him a small smile.
"Bored, Dem?"
The blond rolled his eyes. "I'm dying over here." He peered over curiously at the slumbering teen. "What did he say? Anything about what happened?"
The other man shook his head. "He wasn't conscious for long enough. His head really wasn't in the room. He just wanted Axel."
Demyx was frustrated. "Those two just can't get a break, can they?" His expression grew worried. "Aerith said we've only got two hours left before our ride leaves for the castle." He met his lover's eyes across the room. "I know this is boring and all, but – I don't want to leave them. They'll both be alone if we're not here."
Zexion looked over compassionately. "They'll be here for at least another three days, Dem. Longer even, for Axel. We can't stay all that time. We can come down to visit, though."
Demyx sighed, kicked his feet, dragging the shoes squeaking across the floor. "I know. I just feel bad. What if Roxie doesn't wake up again before we leave? He'll be expecting you to still be here!"
Zexion shrugged slightly, eyes returning to his book as he sipped at his drink. "We need to return, Dem. Roxas will be alright. The staff here is very good."
Demyx humphed, crossing his arms. "I know that. I was here, too. And…" He fidgeted unhappily. "I hated being alone. I hated when everyone had to leave…"
Zexion fixed him with a flat look. "I stayed, Demyx. The entire time."
The blond brightened momentarily. "I know. It was like a slumber party." He sagged. "The kind where you're a huge loser, and only one person turns up."
The other man rolled his eyes again, more broadly this time. "Hospital visits aren't a chance to exhibit popularity, Demyx. We all have our duties at the castle to attend to – even Aerith can't stay, as much as she desperately wants to. It's out of our hands."
Demyx nodded gloomily. "I know. I just wish, is all."
The time passed quietly, Zexion reading his book, Demyx doing the crossword in a newspaper he'd found in Roxas' beside dresser. The blond teen didn't stir, despite Demyx's frequent checks. Just when he was beginning to wonder if the boy was even still breathing, the door eased open, and a weary Aerith entered the room.
"The doctor's making his rounds, boys – we need to get going." Zexion sighed and stood, clutching his novel to his side, while Demyx dug his heels into the ground, crossed his arms, and pouted. "Dem," Aerith warned. "Don't you make a fuss and wake Roxas."
"But I want him to wake," the blond whined. "At least then we could say bye!"
She smiled faintly. "I know it's hard." She shifted over to the bed, gazed down at the reposing blond. "But he needs his sleep. We'll be back tomorrow."
Demyx hung his head, dragged himself to his feet, leaving his empty Styrofoam cup on the ground, and proceeded to wind himself back up into his scarf. Zexion moved to his side, took his hand when he was ready, and with a last glance over their shoulders, the three left the room.
Roxas opened his eyes, as far as he could, and waited until Demyx's voice had faded down the hall. The instant they had stepped out, his tone had leapt back to normal, loud. Roxas listened to him for quite some time, until he was sure that they weren't coming back. He wondered how long it would take for the doctor to finish his rounds. He was exhausted – it was all he could do to keep his eyelids open. Demyx's incessant whispering had drawn him from the deeper part of his mind, kept him aloft, hovering, the slightly more alert part of him scheming and desperately wishing they would all just go. He heard no words that were spoken, just the low buzz of voices as he gripped to consciousness and the image of the redhead, burning to know if he was okay.
Roxas swung, waltzed back and forth across the line separating sleep from wakefulness, the world thick and hazy around his ears. At last, there was sound again, pricking his gliding state, dragging him up through from one plateau of awareness to the next, rising ever for the surface. He felt fingers on his skin, around his wrist. An eyelid was pried open, almost tearing him awake, but he clung to his drowsiness, knowing that anything more would result in questions, in further tests. He just wanted to be left alone. Then he would be able to find Axel. Bright light flashed into his skull, burrowing into the hollow of his pupil, and vanished again. His eye slipped shut, with great relief.
For several minutes, there was no noise, but the footsteps had yet to leave. He remained still, and struggled to not simply slip down again. Eventually, the doctor left, Roxas basking in the silence, the emptiness. He fought to open his eyes again, found with panic that they were sealed tight. Fuck. He'd fallen asleep again. His mind fought his body, clawed its way through the veils and curtains separating him from the world of sight and motion. When he finally managed to free himself of slumber's drug-induced bindings, whatever dim light had been filtering through the covered window was gone. Night had come.
This time, staying awake wasn't as much of a chore, but pain throbbed with each breath. Axel was close, though. He was just beyond the wall. The blond concentrated on moving, stiff muscles complaining, ribs stabbing as his stomach struggled to tug him up to sitting. His face felt like a mess. He could feel the various swellings, the all-over aching. His legs, though – they were okay. And his arms – they were bruised a little, and moving them hurt his chest and ribs, but they were okay as well.
He plucked at the tight sheet, kitten-weak, struggled to tighten his fingers enough to release himself. He squirmed, scowled, felt frustration rise and hiss. He bit it back, took a deep, painful breath, shoved at the covering, getting his elbows in on the effort, using his entire, agonised upper body. At last it came loose, the relief like a dam bursting, and Roxas was able to draw his legs out and lower them to the floor.
He stood carefully, clutching the edge of the mattress, attempted to take some weight onto his legs and nearly folded. His fingers dug in, knuckles going white, everything shivering, jelly-like. His arms trembled, tears springing involuntarily from his eyes as his pulverised torso took the strain. He swallowed, breathing harshly, and locked his knees. His second attempt, less ambitious, more cautious, was successful in that he could stand alone. Roxas took a shuffling step, shambling, hunched over like an old man, arthritic. However, he wasn't falling, and it wasn't hurting too bad now that the emphasis was back on his legs and hips.
Giving a weak cough, he managed to reach the door, drained already. He leaned against the wall, praying no one would come in now and ruin all his hard work. After taking a few minutes to recover, he opened the door. Unable to lean out and peer to see if someone was coming, he just blindly went forth, hoping for the best. Axel was closer.
Roxas hesitated, unsure which direction to take, which 'next room over' the redhead resided in. He could only guess, and followed the way that Aerith, Demyx and Zexion had left. He was in pale hospital pyjamas, light cotton that clung to the sweat developing in a wave across his body.
Carefully breathing through his mouth, nose blocked off, swollen out of shape in a distracting manner, he hobbled down the corridor, head down, limbs heavy, swaying slightly with each step. He reached the door of the neighbouring room, paused to regain his breath, again choking, tasting blood, feeling desperation rise and wondering suddenly if he should have just remained where he was and tried to get better faster. After all, no one was going to let him stay. He would have to return to his own bed as soon as they found him here, on the next round of checkups by either the doctor or one of the nurses.
But he had to see Axel. No matter what Zexion had said – and he hadn't said enough to soothe Roxas' fears – he couldn't get the image out of his mind of Axel being driven into the wall. Pinned, butterfly-esque, the blood, the scream he'd given when the silver-haired man had twisted and wrenched the blade back out. He'd never known Axel was capable of such a noise. He had vague, flashing snatches of memory concerning the events after he'd been beaten to a bloody pulp by the man's vicious fists, but nothing concrete, nothing to tell him that Axel was in fact still alive, heart still throbbing away inside the pale chest. Roxas needed to see red.
He opened the door, entered the dimness. It was the right room. There could be no other with that hair, that manner of taking up the bed. There were machines set up around Axel that Roxas didn't recognise, but nothing seemed to be connecting the redhead to life, he didn't need help in that way.
Sucking air, huffing it out again, trying not to move his shoulders too much, trying not to move his neck, he approached the bed. Axel was sleeping deeply, features relaxed, lips parted, the breaths coming slow and even. Roxas smiled waveringly, climbed up, frail and wasting away with every moment. He lay upside down beside the man, no space for them both at the higher end of the single mattress, heart settling at last, mind finding peace. He was careful not to push his feet against Axel's face, back flush against the sheets, the warmth of a leg against his arm. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, feeling his body grow further away, numbness stealing back through him like a blanket. A small smile on his face, Roxas drifted away, the sound of Axel's breaths a lullaby.
