CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Roxas lay carefully on his side on the bed, Axel's arm lightly around his waist, leaning carefully on the redhead's uninjured shoulder. Axel's fingers stroked the skin of his hip lightly, green eyes open and staring at the ceiling, while Roxas' blue were closed, his nose pressed into the man's neck. Silence breathed between them, sunlight streaming in through the window, rich and late.

"Did you get your script filled?" Axel asked at last, voice soft. Roxas grunted slightly.

"Aerith's doing it."

"Ah."

The blond sighed, scowled. "I don't want to leave you here by yourself. I don't see why they won't let me stay."

Axel smiled a little. "It's because sitting day and night in hospital is boring and painful enough for those with full health, let alone those who've been battered and need lots of rest and Aerith's mothering."

He dug his nose into the redhead's uninjured shoulder. "I don't care. I don't want to just leave you here. This place is shit."

"Ah, it's not so bad. I get meals brought to me in bed, after all," Axel pointed out. "Aerith never does that. Some mom she is."

A throat was cleared, an amused voice saying, "I heard that, Axel." Aerith approached the bed. "And I have brought you breakfast in bed before, the last time you stumbled home drunk and couldn't get up."

"Yeah, well – that was a long time ago," the man replied, faintly uncomfortable. He squirmed slightly under Roxas' weight. The blond pushed up slowly, gave a small smirk of understanding. Aerith, a paper bag in hand, crossed her wrists over her skirt and sighed.

"Well, Roxas, it's time to go. We've got a ride up to the castle with the florist." She beamed. "Such a nice man. He was the one you saw at the castle the other day – Marluxia. He gives such wonderful advice on cultivation."

Axel laughed suddenly. "Hah! Roxie has to ride home with the pink-haired perv."

Roxas' head swivelled. "Perv?"

"Axel!" Aerith was indignant. "Marluxia is certainly not a pervert! What a thing to say." She said to Roxas, "Don't listen to him. He's just being mean."

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Just 'cause he's good with plants…"

"Why do you think he's a pervert?" Roxas asked suspiciously. Aerith folded her arms, lifted her chin.

"Yes, why?"

Axel chuckled, patted Roxas' cheek lightly. "You don't want to know the details." He leaned close to the boy's ear and whispered, "Just watch your ass – and I do mean literally."

Roxas raised an eyebrow, while Aerith huffed. "Axel, you really are the limit."

The man pouted. "I know, mommy. I'll be good."

Roxas frowned, climbed abruptly from the bed, leaving Axel blinking. "We should get going I guess," he muttered. Aerith nodded.

"I'll meet you in the hall." She fixed Axel with a stern look. "You behave yourself. Stop flirting with the nurses. You've got half the young girls swooning."

"But at least I'm not flirting with the guys," Axel pointed out.

"For that, you're lucky," Roxas said dryly. Axel grinned, and Aerith left the room to allow them time to say good-bye. As the door shut, Axel's smile faded a little.

"Are you okay, Rox?" In response to the blank look he received, he added, "You still seem – a little out of it."

Roxas shook his head. "I'm fine. Really." He sighed, glanced around. "I have to admit, it'll be nice to get…" He stopped, a startled look appearing on his face. Axel frowned, sat up slightly.

"Rox?"

Roxas blinked, laughed lightly. "No, it's – I was just about to call the castle home."

Axel eyed him uncertainly. "Is that a good thing?"

Roxas raised his eyebrows, took a breath. "Yeah. I think it is." He smiled. "At least it means I can relax when I get there."

Axel nodded slowly, looking pleased. "And I'll be back before you know it. Just…" His expression fell into worry. "Stay close to people. All the time. Don't go anywhere where you could get – grabbed."

Roxas shook his head. "It's been five days, Axel. No one's seen him."

Vincent had come to see them on their third day in hospital, cloak more ragged than Roxas remembered, to apologise for his failure in tracking down the mysterious attacker. He had assured Roxas, however, that the man was long gone, at least for the moment. Axel hadn't been pleased, and still hadn't recovered from the disappointment.

"I don't care how long it's been," he said sharply. "It's bad enough that I have to let you go back without me – just please, promise you'll be smart about this. Please be safe."

Roxas frowned unhappily. "Okay, fine. Way to freak me out. I promise to spend all my time expecting the guy to come leaping out from every corner, how does that sound?"

"Paranoid and perfect." Axel reached for him, tugged him close, wrapping his good arm gently around the boy's waist. "I love you, Rox. I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I know," the blond sighed. He leaned in for a brief kiss. "I'll – I'll be good. I won't be stupid about it, even if I want to."

"There's my Roxie," Axel murmured with a smile. "Reluctantly clever."

They drew apart, weary affection on each face. Aerith tapped discreetly from outside. Roxas turned, grimaced, gave Axel one last kiss. "I'll come see you if they'll let me, okay?"

"And if not – see you in a couple days," the redhead replied softly. "I really do love you, you know."

"I know," Roxas breathed. He stepped back, gave a smile, heart tugging. "I'll be seeing you."

"Later, Rox." The pair parted, door closing to leave Axel alone. Roxas met Aerith out in the hall, smiled thinly, feeling all the scabs stretch. She returned the expression compassionately.

"You ready to go now?" Roxas nodded. The woman hooked her arm through his, patting his fingers, and together they left the hospital.

.o.O.o.

Despite Axel's warnings, the pink-haired man didn't try anything on Roxas' ass. Possibly because of the state of his face. Gazing out the window during the short drive, watching the plumes of dust billow up from the wheels, he found himself catching glimpses of the damage in the reflection against the glass. Up til now, he'd avoided mirrors. In the bathroom, he'd kept his face averted, not wanting to see the sickening contusions brought into reality. It was bad enough that they existed – he didn't want to have to look at himself, the reminder of that terrifying night, that voice in his ear, the madness filling the corridor simply with his presence.

Roxas cursed himself – if he'd been smart enough to realise that it hadn't been Riku that night, Axel could have at least had a chance to fight back. And Roxas – he wasn't the best fighter with his keyblades, but the two of them against the one man, with no physical disadvantage as far as wounds were concerned, and they might have been able to turn that fight into a completely different scenario.

He sighed, scowling, shifting his focus deliberately past the likeness, studying the passing rocks and edges, the white van working along the narrow trail and up to the castle. Aerith and the man chatted happily about this kind of fertiliser compared to that, the photosynthetic advantages of this particular creeper over another. Occasionally, Roxas caught sight of the man's eyes on him in the mirror, flicking instantly away the instant he glanced up.

In the hospital he'd been fine, Axel hadn't acted like anything was different, but out here it seemed he was suddenly a freak-show. He dreaded the reaction of the other techies, the members of the Committee. He feared Yuffie most of all – who knew what kind of damage would be caused from her rage alone? This was the first time he'd be seeing most of them since five days previously.

Before long, the van pulled to a stop a little way from the castle entrance. The side door was slid open for him, and he stepped out onto the packed dirt, breathing the dry air with something akin to relief. This place – it was definitely feeling like home. A great barrier in his heart broke down, muscles relaxing for the first time in days. Axel might not have been here, but he wasn't far off, and he would be soon enough. And then… everything would be okay again.

…Again, again.

It was late afternoon by this point. The sun was beginning its descent beyond the mountains, the breezes growing cooler almost from one minute to the next. Roxas took several steps away from the van, ascending the shallow ramp leading from the dust to the path up to the castle. He leaned against the low barrier keeping people from simply tumbling down and away into the mist, and gazed out at the increasingly golden-amber world. He felt the ease in breathing return, like it had been before so many ribs had been cracked or bruised. He felt like… like someone was opening their arms, and welcoming him back. It was as if, at any moment… his mom would come out of the kitchen, bringing some fresh scent with her, and – and ask how his day had been. Yes – that was what it felt like. It felt like… like mom.

"Roxas? Are you okay?" Aerith approached, head tilted curiously. Behind her, over by the van, Marluxia was pulling various pots out of the back, settling them with a thump onto the ground. Roxas turned, smiling slightly. "Yeah, Aerith. I'm good. Just… admiring the sunset."

"You should head in," she said softly. "We don't want you catching cold. It's not long until dinner – how about you lie down for a while? I can send someone to come get you."

Roxas nodded slowly, eyes drifting back to the landscape. "Sure. That sounds fine…"

He sighed, pulling the mountain air deep into his lungs, ignoring the pinch that the motion brought, and dug his hands into his pockets, heading inside. He traversed the long corridors, encountering no one, footsteps echoing. It seemed strange being back here – as if no time had passed at all. As if he could turn around and see Axel and himself wandering down the hall with their weapons. He felt time, the futility of wishing it backwards. The air was filled with strands, and if only he could reach out and touch one, drag on it, he could reverse the actions of that night, could warn them all before any of it occurred… But they were too intangible to catch.

He entered the room quietly, peering about at the neat interior that hadn't previously existed. Aerith had been in their absence, had left her domestic stamp. Roxas was pleased, however, that the faint smell of cigar smoke continued to linger. Somehow, that scent had become an embodiment of Axel.

Any tension that had risen since arriving, the odd, swimming thoughts that had been floating in and out of his mind, all faded, replaced with longing, an ache of loneliness. He shifted to the bed, climbed onto his hands and knees and lowered himself down to the sheets. They were cool, and clean, smelling of linen and soap. Roxas closed his eyes and inhaled. Now all he needed was for Axel to complete the picture, and he would be content.

Right now, the redhead was lying in his bed in the white room in hospital, all alone except for the nurses that insisted on popping in and out – especially, as Aerith had pointed out, the younger ones. It amused Roxas more than anything else, this reaction that people had to Axel. He could see how so many could have been drawn to him during his phase of sleeping-around. He wouldn't have had a shortage of potential partners, that was for sure… and now he was happy with – just Roxas? That was… weird. And flattering. And… weird. He'd spent all that time sleeping with different people, just imagining it was…?

Roxas blushed, sinking into the covers, face burying into the pillow, bruises aching. Once again, he found himself appreciating Axel's restraint. He couldn't imagine being fixated like that, and then the instant everything came good, reverting instantly to – well, basically normal. Axel had spent literally years pining after Roxas, but all he seemed to want was for the blond to be happy and get settled in. Naturally, Axel was interested in Roxas sticking around for the long-haul, so making him comfortable was an obvious tactic to achieve that end, but… Roxas still found it difficult to comprehend. Add to that the constant, ever-present love that the redhead not only claimed to feel, but that Roxas was quite certain he did, and…he was – overwhelmed, to say the least.

This was the first time in a while that he'd had time to step away from Axel, knowing that there was distance between them, knowing that he wouldn't see him at mealtimes, in the halls, not even a chance encounter. And he missed him. He missed the fact that, anytime he wanted him around, the redhead would be there. He missed that, until Axel came home – and this was home, there was nowhere else to go, nowhere else to be – there would be no warm arm around his shoulder, no whispers in his ear. It startled him, the depth of the loss, even knowing that Axel would be back in a few days.

Roxas shifted carefully around onto his back, the most comfortable, painless position he knew of, and gaped at the ceiling for a while. He – well, he'd been aware of his growing feelings for the man. He wasn't dense, or in denial. But – he hadn't really… felt it until now. Hadn't felt just – how important Axel was. And this… Wow. This was more than friendship.

He reached up, rubbed a thumb into his sore eye, yet to recover, still stained pink. Like Aerith said, he should rest. Until someone came to get him for dinner. There was nothing he needed to do, no one he needed to see… Roxas was tired, his thoughts, his emotions wearing him out. There was a dull little ache filling Axel's place in his heart, and the only way to escape was to sleep. Roxas closed his eyes, let go, and felt himself leave the room, piece by piece.

.o.O.o.

Roxas woke, and found himself in the sand. Sunset had come and gone, leaving the playground swathed, drowning in darkness. He sat up sharply, without pain, without hindrance. His fingers dug deep into the whiteness, the gritty feeling sliding across his palms. He looked around slowly.

She stood by the jungle gym, wearing white gloves, white dress to the ground, white veil covering all, even her hair. She just… stood there.

Roxas got up, brushed his hands on his pants, felt the many particles of dirt drop back to their ocean. He approached her, feet sinking, clumsy. She didn't react to the quiet shuffle of his shoes, just stared straight ahead behind her coverings. Roxas' face fell into a frown. She could have been a statue, if the wind didn't always insist on blowing her garments around, giving an eerie sense of life to something that looked, and should have rightfully been, dead.

Roxas halted several feet away, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched over. He watched her, and waited for her to speak. To move, even. Just a turn of the head would have been nice, an acknowledgement. At last, he grew frustrated.

"Mom, where'd the kids go? Why don't the ghosts come back anymore? Why is it night-time?"

A rustling of fabric, a low sigh. It was as if his words brought her to life. "Time passes, Roxas. Faster than we'd like it to. I'm starting to understand this."

"Why are we here, mom?" he asked softly. "Can't we just go home? It's cold."

A hollow, brittle laugh. "Yes, it is, isn't it? But mother cannot leave. Mother is trapped here, and only Roxas and the ghosts may visit. The bad boy has made it so."

"What bad boy, mom?" Roxas asked, confused. "I know I'm a good boy, and Axel… but who's the bad boy?"

"The bad boy is making mother sick… The bad boy is changing Roxas, even though he doesn't realise." She paused, lifted her head, touched Roxas' shoulder, and with a resounding grind, a deafening clatter, the jungle gym disintegrated, became a skeletal pile on the ground. "Mother cannot leave. But Roxas will save her – mother has seen it." She tilted her neck, obscured face pointing at the sky, the dark, pin-hole filled abyss. "Roxas will rise, and break the bones, and flee to mother… He will rescue her, because… she has seen it." Silence in the playground, the cool wind whipping. "Mother has seen it. I – have seen it." She turned to him, at last, laying a smooth gloved hand on his cheek. "Don't cry, Roxas. Mother knows you will protect her. It is built inside you to do so… You have no choice in the matter… even if you wanted to."

"Don't – cry?" Roxas reached up to feel his dry cheeks. "I'm crying?"

.o.O.o.

Roxas opened his eyes to darkness, flickering light, huddled into a corner. He was trembling, and weeping, mewling thinly for his mother. His knees were drawn up to his chest, ribs afire with the pain of the position. He suddenly stopped, inhaling sharply, grunting in agony. The tears became something new, something conscious. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, I can't move."

"Roxas?" A low voice, intent. A face in the gloom, lit up morbidly with the darting illumination. Roxas blinked in confusion, the salt of his tears stinging, clinging to his eyelashes.

"V-Vaan?" He reached up to smear his blurred vision, voice cracking and jumping. "What's going on? Wh-where am I?"

"Wh – where are you?" The other boy was bewildered. He laid his hands gently on Roxas' biceps. "I don't know where you're hurt. Am I touching anything bad?"

Roxas shook his head, sniffing, baffled. "No, my arms are fine, but my – my ribs are really bad. I can't unfold my legs. It hurts too bad."

"Shit," Vaan muttered. His hands slipped away, he sat back on his heels and rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Look, it's going to be okay. Naminé went to get Aerith."

Roxas, eyes growing used to the dimness, glanced quickly around, heart pounding. "I'm – in the computer room?" He went cold. "I didn't try to break anything, did I?" His blood turned to ice, breath hitching in panic. "Oh, my God, I didn't hurt Naminé, did I?"

"No – no, you're fine." Vaan sighed, almost irritated. "Are you telling me you don't remember coming here? You don't remember anything?" He shook his head, white-blond hair swirling momentarily. "Look, let's just get you up. The longer you stay bunched up like that, the harder it's gonna be to get you out of it…" He reached forward, trying to unhook Roxas' trembling, clawed fingers from around his calves. "Just – just let go," Vaan said softly. "It's okay now. You can let go."

Roxas, not even aware he was clinging, forced his body to relax. His muscles screamed at him, the pain thumping worse than ever, making it hard to breathe properly. He couldn't pull in a decent lungful. He coughed weakly. Vaan glanced up, sensing his growing distress. "You don't know what you were doing here?" he asked quietly. Roxas shook his head, jaw clenching automatically, flinching a moment later.

"I – I was just lying down in my – in Axel's room, like Aerith told me. She was going to get someone to grab me for dinner. I was – I was just sleeping."

"You were sleeping?" He loosened Roxas' arms, placed them gently by his sides. He paused. "Wait, dinner?" An eyebrow hiked up. "Uh, Roxas, dinner was a while ago."

"It – what?" His expression was blank. Vaan shook his head.

"Aerith's gonna be pissed," he muttered. He sat back, stood, held his hands down for Roxas to take, and slowly, cautiously, pulled the blond to his feet. Roxas hissed through his teeth. "I'll save the explanation for when she gets here," the other teen said wearily. He led Roxas over to the main chair, lowered him carefully down. There were still cracks in the plastic around the newly installed keyboard, and the screen had a fine spider's web splitting one corner. It had already been so many days, but the echoes of Roxas' brief, mindless madness lingered still.

Vaan backed up, sat down in the smaller chair, the bludgeoning one, and propped an elbow on a blank spot between controls. He drove his fingertips into the corners of his eyes and exhaled heavily. "Any ideas what happened here?"

"I… I sleep-walk," Roxas muttered. "That's what Axel thinks, anyway." He looked around, sighed, took his head in his hands. "I'm getting sick of this."

"Happens often?"

Roxas shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. But – I don't know. I'm sick of it anyway. I just – " He closed his eyes to the flickering of the screen, shutting out the ache it brought. "I wish Axel was here," he mumbled. Vaan nodded slowly.

"I've been here for a while, you know," he said. "I'm another one that didn't go into Twilight Town. My friend, Penelo – she and her family took me in. My brother – he died protecting Hollow Bastion. I've been a techie for a few years now, and I've seen Axel go crazy because of you." As Roxas' face jerked up, he hurried to add, "Not that I'm blaming you. The point I'm trying to make here is, you know, I guess I just want to let you know I think it's cool you guys are together now. He wasted a lot of time on you, and it's good to see it wasn't just in vain."

Roxas fixed him with an uncertain look. "Uh, thanks. Yeah. Me, too. I think so… too."

Vaan cocked his head to the side. "They're coming. I can hear them."

Roxas sat up, turning his head to face the door, and moments later Aerith entered, followed closely by Naminé and –

"DiZ." Vaan's voice was flat, expression changing instantly to a hard mask. The golden-eyed man, arms folded behind his back, studied the white-blond teen for a moment, before transferring his gaze over to where Aerith worried over Roxas, Naminé hanging uneasily behind her.

"Roxas, where have you been?" the flower-woman asked anxiously, crouching beside him, holding the sides of his face gently. "You've been crying! Oh, what's happened?"

Roxas tugged free, shaking his head. "It's – I'm okay, Aerith, really."

"He was sitting in the corner, crying and calling for his mother," Vaan stated dully. All eyes turned towards him. Roxas scowled.

"I was sleep-walking again. I've done it before."

"You have?" DiZ entered the conversation. "When?"

Roxas squirmed with discomfort. "Oh, ah, the day before the night that me and Axel were attacked. It – uh – really wasn't a big deal. I just woke up a few hours later than I'd meant to somewhere… different."

"How different?" Aerith frowned. Roxas closed his eyes, fought back the blush.

"Just on the wrong side of the room, okay? It's – it's never happened like this."

"And you were – calling for your mother, you say?" DiZ prompted, sounding curious. "Surely you know by now that she is dead."

Roxas shot him an irritated look, lifting his head slightly. "Yeah, thanks for your sensitivity. I'm pretty aware that she's dead. Don't blame me for having a subconscious that isn't ready to accept it."

Vaan snorted, got to his feet. "Kid, DiZ and sensitivity don't belong together. Forget about it." He walked over towards the door, was paused by a hand on his chest.

"Where do you think you're going? Your shift isn't finished yet," the bandaged man said quietly. Vaan tugged back, an insolent smile in place.

"I'm not feeling well. I figured I'd get going before I infect poor Roxas any further."

DiZ's eyes narrowed. His hand snapped back to his body, tucking behind his back. "Continue on, then," he growled. His eyes left the blond, focusing on Roxas as if Vaan had already left the room.

"Hope you feel better, Roxas," was his final parting, still an impudent tone to his voice, obviously directed at DiZ. Roxas frowned, watching the miniature show of hostility unfold, while Naminé built up the courage to join Aerith in the mothering. She knelt down carefully, delicate mouth down-turned, eyebrows drawn together. She touched Roxas' arm, capturing his attention. "Are you feeling okay now? You don't look upset anymore…"

Roxas shook his head, frowning. "That was – I was sleeping, Nam. That wasn't really me."

Aerith glared. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening, Roxas? Who knows where you might have ended up."

Roxas leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the controls, eyes skating unhappily over the remains of the damage. "I didn't think it was going to happen again. I didn't – I haven't thought about it at all since that day. And it didn't happen while I was in hospital at all… and it only happened the one time, really…"

"It sounds close to the state you found yourself in while experiencing your first viewing," DiZ commented. "Your lack of memory, of control. It is unusual, to say the least. I find it particularly interesting that you were drawn here."

"Why?" Roxas demanded, suddenly frustrated. "I don't think it sounds weird at all. Some part of me wanted my mom, and the last freaking place I saw her was inside your goddamn fake town. I'd have thought this was the natural place to expect me to come."

"…Perhaps," the man conceded, not pursuing the matter. He turned to Aerith. "Take Roxas to his room, and make sure his night time routine is calm and properly executed. In order to fight this, we must find ways to both keep him occupied and yet relaxed. Do whatever you feel will work. I leave him in your capable hands, Aerith."

She nodded, smiled thinly, waited until he left, then turned back to Roxas with a frown. "How are you feeling now? That's a terrible thing to have happen, Roxas."

The blond shrugged. "I'm okay. Really. I've dealt with that whole my-mom-is-dead thing already. It's not like I don't have people to commiserate with."

"Roxas…" Naminé continued to look concerned. "Maybe you don't understand how serious this is. You weren't – normal. You were… rocking. And crying real loud. You wouldn't let either Vaan or I even touch you. In the end, that's why I had to go find Aerith…"

"And I was already busy looking for you," the woman sighed. "I sent Demyx along at dinner time, but of course…" She shrugged. "I ran into DiZ. He's been wanting to talk to you, but I suppose he's saving it for another time." Her forehead creased, hand coming up to brush the hair from his face. "Maybe when you're feeling better."

"I feel fine," said Roxas tersely. "Really. I wish everyone would just leave me alone. I'm being good, aren't I?"

Aerith faltered, drew back, stood. "Are you alright to stand?"

"I'm fine to stand." Roxas fought hard not to snap at the woman, overcome with a sudden and irrational annoyance. He didn't need to be taken care of, after all. He didn't to be – mothered. He got up, the females stepping back a little at the boil of aggression that curled from his skin. He turned to look at them sharply, and subsided. The curling anger left as abruptly as it had risen. Roxas reached up to scratch his head. "Is it okay if I get something to eat first?"

Aerith blinked, smiled, hands clasping at her skirt. "Of course. Come on, I'll fix you something."

Naminé sighed, glancing around the room. "I guess I'll finish my shift alone. I doubt Vaan will be back. He gets into these moods, and there's nothing you can do. He goes missing for hours sometimes…" She shook her head. "Maybe I'll call Kairi," she mumbled. "Wake her up. She can come help." She blinked. "Oh, Roxas!" She turned to him. "Kairi wanted to talk to you, too. She did for a couple days before the attack. How about I get her to come get you in the morning? I noticed you'd been rostered on for a sit-in…"

"A sit-in?"

"Yeah, you know, just kind of what I'm doing now." She smiled, flopping down onto the large chair, patted its arms. "The art of sitting and making sure nothing explodes."

"Oh, uh…" Roxas nodded cautiously. "I can do that. Sure."

She smiled sweetly. "Great. I'll tell her."

Roxas left with Aerith, feeling heavy-limbed and tired. He rubbed his bruised face, willing himself to wake up a little more. His eyes itched from crying. "You know, Roxas," said Aerith quietly as they walked, "if there's anything you need to talk about, I'll always listen. I know people view me as a sort of mother-figure, but I want you to know that I'm not trying to replace anyone in your heart. You don't need to see me as a maternal presence if you don't want. We can just be friends." She smiled gently. "Friends help each other, right?"

Roxas frowned, hands sliding into his pockets as they wandered down the corridors towards the dining hall. "I know. I don't think you're trying to replace my mom anyway, Aerith. But there's nothing for me to talk about. I just…" He broke off, ran a hand through his hair. "I just wish Axel was here," he sighed. Aerith nodded.

"I understand. We'll do our best to keep you occupied until he gets back, okay?"

Roxas agreed wearily. They entered the dining hall, found Leon and Cloud at the far table. Aerith gave the blond a light shove in their direction. Bracing himself for the reaction to his visage, he approached. Hearing his steps, the two men glanced up, low-voiced conversation ceasing. For a moment, their gazes froze on him. None of the Committee had come to visit in hospital… in fact, not many people did at all. Naminé had, Sora had, Demyx and Zexion had, and Larxene had checked in once, slipping a bottle of vodka to Roxas, a packet of cigarettes to Axel, both of which were confiscated by the nurse… but in essence, not many members of the castle had ventured down.

Cloud was the first to speak. "Roxas. I'm sorry about what happened to you."

Roxas nodded slowly. "It's okay. I just wish they'd find the guy who did it."

"Vincent tried," Leon said. "He lost him in the mountains."

"Yeah. I heard." Roxas shifted from one leg to the next. "Mind if I sit with you guys?"

Eyebrows rising, Cloud reached out with his foot, nudged the chair opposite. Roxas grabbed it, pulled it out.

"You know, Yuffie's going to go nuts when she sees you," the blond informed him casually. Roxas smiled as he sat.

"I thought she might."

"Hurts still?" Leon asked shortly. Roxas hesitated.

"I've got some medication from the hospital." The brunet nodded calmly.

"Make sure to keep taking it."

"Yeah." Silence developed, easy to endure since Roxas didn't feel like talking anyway. The good thing about having Leon and Cloud as the first to see him was that there were no histrionics. However Yuffie might have behaved last time, when he'd been hurt in the valley, he was sure she wasn't going to take this latest attack lying down. Of course, there was nothing she could do about it, but he knew there'd be a fuss. He lay his arms on the table, lowered his face to the cool surface, finding relief from the throbbing a little, closing his eyes. So much for not sleeping. He'd wanted to never have to again, and that very same night he was knocked unconscious, and had done little more than sleep ever since. And now… Now it was starting again. The moment he was left alone, his body was taking over from his mind. No matter what Axel had said the first time, Roxas still found it unnerving.

He wondered if he should attempt staying awake. It had its appeal, that was for sure… Waking up, crying for his mother? His mom? God, she was dead. Axel had taken him to her grave. And hell, if he was going to start going nuts about that, why not include his dad while he was at it? It's not like he'd loved him any less… well, the illusion of him, at least. Why wasn't he crying for his dad as well? Why… why did the thought of his mother chill him so badly? The thought of sitting in the corner of that room, rocking…

Aerith came with his food, a hastily prepared arrangement, and a cup of warm milk that she forced him to drink first. "It'll help you sleep more soundly," she said, not wanting to go into the details with the two stoic men listening. Roxas merely nodded, and drank. If he could just find a way to keep from walking around, the thought of sleep wouldn't be a problem anymore.

After the meal, Roxas bid goodnight to the two men, and Aerith walked him back to Axel's room. She looked tired – Roxas figured it had been a while since she'd had any decent sleep herself. She entered the room first, tutted briefly, sent him off to take a shower while she remade the bed. As Roxas stood under the steaming water, the room empty except for the rolling steam, he couldn't help but miss Axel all over again. He wanted to slap himself for thinking about the redhead in here, but memories clung where memories clung.

At last, dressed freshly, hair damp, he padded on bare feet back to Axel's room. Aerith… she actually tucked him in. She – she peeled back the blankets, and when he climbed in, she tugged them up again, and tucked the corners in around his frame. Her green eyes were worried, despite the small smile she wore for him. Roxas just lay there and watched her. She stepped back, smoothing down the covers one last time, and glanced around.

"Is it okay if I lock the door tonight, Roxas?" Her gaze found him, concerned. "From the outside, I mean. Just to make sure nothing happens." Roxas blinked, frowned, started to sit up. "I know it seems – a little extreme, maybe," she said quickly, hands up and placating, "but I worry. I promised Axel I'd take good care of you. Until we can stop this sleep-walking for good, until we know it's over with…" She shook her head, brown braid swinging. "That man is still out there, Roxas. He got in once, and I don't care what everyone says – he might do it again."

"Great bedtime story," Roxas commented wryly. "Did you and Axel collaborate, or what?"

She grimaced. "I don't mean to frighten you… I trust you, you know that. Axel and I both trust you to take care of yourself. But there are parts of the castle accessible from outside, which aren't watched as closely, and when you don't even know what you're doing…" She left the sentence to hang in the air between them, Roxas' expression shifting slowly into a frown.

"You're right." He settled back down, nodded briefly. "Okay. Lock me in. I'm – I don't want to wake up somewhere different again. It's getting weird."

She smiled gratefully. "Alright then. I'll do that. I'll be back in the morning, in time for breakfast." She went to the door, opened it, switched off the overhead light so that the illumination from the hallway flooded in like a buttery wave through the darkness. "Sleep tight, Roxas. Take care."

The door was shut. Roxas carefully reached up, slipping his hands under his head, staring at the ceiling. Sleep tight? Apprehension filled him. He'd be fine. He'd already done it once tonight – no need for it to happen a second time, right? Weird freak-out quota had been filled. Yet, some part of him still felt nervous. He closed his eyes, let out a slow breath.

"There's nothing to worry about," he whispered aloud. "Just think of Axel, and you'll sleep fine."

Fall asleep he did. And wake up a second time in the playground, he did also.