CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Axel was running.

There he'd been, standing in front of the broad, wide windows in the dining hall with Aerith and Leon, nursing a cup of coffee, left hand curled in slightly towards his body the way it did these days, in an effort to save his shoulder from any unnecessary pain. The three of them had been discussing, rationally for the first time for Axel, the various options they had as far as getting Roxas better was concerned. It hurt him, to know he was such a superfluous part of the proceedings. The only reason he was even involved was because he was Roxas' boyfriend, and had a better insight into him than the others – but as far as actually helping him, Axel was useless.

Frustration had been rising in him the longer the conversation stretched, not because nothing was getting done, but because it was. The helplessness twisted. He wanted to slam down his mug on the nearby counter, tell them both to fuck off – although, perhaps in a slightly nicer way to Aerith – and leave him to take care of his Roxie. He didn't want other people being involved, because he felt like, no matter what they'd realised, no matter what Roxas had said, he should have been able to heal the boy somehow. Should have been able to get him to talk about his problems in order to make them go away, should have been able to kiss away the fear – fucking damn it, his arms should have been safe enough to sleep in so that the blond didn't have to dream. But things just didn't work out that way, and so the mug remained in his hands, sipped at from time to time, aggravation swelling and subsiding like the tides.

And then all hell had broken loose – Aerith was cut off mid-word as the lights simply shut off for a brief second, the afterglow hovering in front of their eyes like a starburst. Then came the sirens, screaming from every orifice the castle possessed, the lights bright red and white, flashing hysterically. Axel didn't notice the cup slip from his fingers and shatter, his need to grip forgotten as his heart launched into his throat. The bewilderment lasted all of three seconds, before each of them realised, the reality of it snapping efficiently into place, that the core was in danger. It took a further moment for Axel to remember that Roxas was there – he was in the lab right now.

That was when he'd started sprinting, long legs spreading far, body staying low as he rounded each corner, scarlet spikes jolting. He didn't know if the others were following, didn't care, couldn't even think beyond the one name running continuously through his mind. Terror. That was all Axel knew. The sheer terror that came from the little voice in the back of his head telling him that this was long enough. Thirteen years of torment earned you a month of light, and then it was back to the darkness again.

Nothing lasts forever.

He met several others along the way, but their faces were blurred. They didn't exist. He was the only one, all over again. He was deathly alone, just he and his stretching, fractured, leaping shadow in this world of madness and lights. He was dimly aware of the pain that tore through his shoulder as he raced with arms pumping, radiating down to the elbow and then again to the fingertips with a surge, spreading like a blanket of warmth from one collar to the next, up into his neck, his jaw. But it didn't matter, none of it mattered.

Somehow, he shoved his way into the computer lab first, never minding that he didn't have even a single chakram, blowtorch forgotten despite its ever-present quality, danger not even recognised as he bust through into the heart of the insanity. He ground to a halt, eyes falling first on the damage, and a piece of his heart seemed as if to splinter off and shatter at seeing the familiar design of a keyblade handle jutting from the screen. Sparks flew from the terminal, the devastation astronomical, all crumpled metal and ripped out wires. He took several panicked steps in, casting about frantically for the blond he was already certain would be long gone, spirited away, no doubt forever, because that was what happened. And this time, Axel wouldn't even be able to watch him wake up each morning.

And then… in the frenzy of his anguish, his eyes drifted down to the huddle against the wall, the quaking figure, face hidden away, buried between hands and thighs. Axel's heart paused, and for a long moment there was white silence.

Roxas jumped and cried out hoarsely as the hands descended upon him, fingers wrapping around the sides of his head to bring it jerking up. He found himself blinking, shaking, into Axel's stunned features. He saw his name formed by the lips, gasped one in return, but this universe didn't allow any sound but the kind it supplied, and they were rendered mute. Axel gripped him for a moment, fingertips digging in as a wild look entered his eyes. He dragged Roxas close, crushing him in a brief embrace, wishing desperately that the boy could be breathed in, inhaled into himself where he wouldn't need to worry about people hurting him, or himself, or ever, ever leaving. Roxas' arms wrapped around him, and Axel could feel the cracked sobs trembling through the too-slender body, too small, too fucking frail. A weight of despair descended on his shoulders, chest gripping, at the sudden realisation that Roxas would only ever be okay when he was around. He couldn't leave the teen alone again, because God only knew the second he blinked for too long, Axel would find himself without his Roxas.

A moment later, he was wrenched away from the boy, desperation erupting as his fingers were jerked free. Leon hauled him to his feet, expression fierce, and shoved him over to the controls with a stabbed finger, tacit command to shut the fucking sirens off. Aerith swooped down to take his place with Roxas, skilled hands immediately beginning to check the boy over. Leon grabbed his uninjured shoulder and pushed him roughly. He stumbled a little, dazed, eyes finally disconnecting from the view of the blond. He turned his attention to the terminal.

In the meantime, Roxas, without Axel to hold him upright, slumped back against the wall. The tears continued to trickle down his face, stinging, the back of his throat burning from stomach acid, the front of it throbbing with the pain of having been throttled with the barrel of a shotgun. His ribs ached, a steady thumping metronome set up in a perfect circle on his stomach where the gun had jabbed him, beating in almost complete synchronisation with the whooping of the alarms. His pumping blood had rhythm. Aerith's touches were invasive in his current state – he suddenly wanted nothing more than to slip backwards through the wall and sleep. But he endured, eyelashes flickering slowly, anxiety twisting his insides. He couldn't stop shaking. His hands, when he unfurled them from their clenched state, jerked with each snatched breath.

At last, the sirens stopped. A collective sigh of relief was exhaled, then Aerith was holding him gently, hugging him, nails accidentally catching on his skin and making him flinch as she wiped the tears from his face.

"Please." She drew back, and both she and Roxas looked up at Axel, who hovered over them uncertainly. He held out his hands a little, helplessly. "Please, can I?" Aerith hesitated, nodded, sat back on her heels and pressed up to her feet. She and Leon watched as the redhead sank down beside the blond, as they simply folded together, like two magnets within their chests sucked them, one to the other, and clung.

Leon's face turned grimly towards the damage. "What happened here?" He returned his gaze to the two males on the floor, Axel's hands moving nervously, brushing a flaxen spike, sweeping a damp cheekbone, cupping a shoulder, an elbow.

"Leon, we gotta fucking problem!" Yuffie's voice grew louder as she approached from the walkway, the ninja screeching to a halt at the doorway a bare moment later, gripping the frame and panting. There was blood on her shoulder. Leon whipped around, eyes wide. "Yuffie?"

"Breach! Sora and Cloud are hurt! Aerith, get your pink-clad ass out there and start staunching, coz we got a couple o' bleeders going on."

Leon shifted from startled to a Fury in a heartbeat. "What happened?"

"A fucking viera," the girl panted, voice so high it touched the ceiling, leaning against the doorframe as Aerith went hurrying past without another word, skirt swishing, boots clacking sharply. She said over her shoulder, "East wing, cellar entrance!"

The woman barely wasted the energy nodding, gone a second later, while Leon spluttered, then demanded, "Cellar entrance? How did they know about it? Who?"

"I don't know," the brunette replied shrilly, hands flinging up. "All I know is that one second, Vaan's saying over the radio about a broken lock, and by the time I get there, there's a fucking battle going on!"

"It was Vaan," Roxas said, voice hoarse, strangled, a choking noise. All eyes turned upon him, Axel's grip tightening. "He took it." The tears started up again, fat drops rolling from his eyes, breaths hitching wetly.

"Took what?" Leon asked sharply. Yuffie's eyes went round.

"Use your head, Leon," she breathed.

"The core," Axel said quietly, adjusting Roxas in his arms, placing his cheek against the boy's head. "The core's gone."

Leon whipped around, face wrenched with panic. A second later he had a cell phone whipped out, was bolting from the room. They heard his voice burst out in a shout as someone picked up on the other end. Almost as soon as he'd left, more people came piling in to replace him, Zexion and Demyx, Riku with mussed hair and desperate eyes. He shoved through, saw Roxas, saw the devastation, demanded in a high voice, "Where's Sora?!"

"Cellar entrance," Yuffie responded. "He's hurt, but Aerith's on her way." The teen's eyes bulged. He was wearing boxers and a cotton dressing gown to his knees, partially untied, giving him a wild appearance as he absorbed this news. His feet slapped against the tiles, the metal walkway, and his flying silver hair was gone.

Demyx went straight over to Axel and Roxas, as Zexion shifted sharply over to the controls. His gasp was soft, but loud in the silence. "The core!" He twisted, pupils pinpricks of fear. "Where is it? Where's the core?"

Yuffie went to the clump of the trio on the floor, bouncing down into a crouch, expression filled with worry. "Roxas, tell us what happened."

"Vaan," he said again, softly, clinging to Axel. "He took it."

Demyx's mouth dropped open, head shaking. "No, Roxie, naw, you – you can't be right…"

"He said it happened," Axel snarled, his voice a furious purr in the post-traumatic hush. "Don't you dare fucking doubt him, Dem!" There was a low tinkling crunch as Zexion shifted over, also in pajamas, feet inexplicably clad in rainbow-coloured knee-high socks and fluffy bunny slippers that practically screamed an advertisement for Demyx's wardrobe. He bent also, rubbing a hand over his lover's back. For once, his hair was swept back, the heavy bangs clipped hastily to one side, both eyes visible. He looked younger like this, less of a distant man and more just barely out of his teens like Axel and Demyx. He was close to hyperventilating, his breaths so short and shallow, but his expression was controlled to just the barest hint of his distress. "Roxas, are you sure? Vaan – Vaan took the core?"

"Him and – another guy," the blond confirmed, stricken, meeting his gaze. "I – I tried, but – he had a gun, and – "

"Roxas, what's up with your voice?" Demyx asked shakily. "What's – what's with the bruising? Did – did Vaan hurt you?"

"Bruising?" Axel jerked his head back, twisted around to get a better look at the blond. Sure enough, in a rough bar across his throat, a vicious bruise was forming. Roxas gulped, shook his head in grief. "I'm fine, but the core… Twilight Town – it's – it's gone."

Zexion was gripping his hand a bare moment later, nearly painful in its intensity, Axel looking as if he wanted to yank the teen out of reach, stopping only at the painful sorrow on the man's face. "I believe you," Zexion said quickly, more emotion shaking his voice than any of them but Demyx had ever seen. "I won't let anyone blame you, Roxas. If – if DiZ tries to – "

"I'll fucking kill him," Axel growled. "Nobody's going to blame Roxas, or I'll fucking bleed them."

"Twilight Town was home for our whole lives," the slate-haired man continued, ignoring the outburst, squeezing the blond's hand further still, even as Demyx hooked his other one. "I know you tried. I know you tried."

Roxas struggled to keep from breaking down completely. Axel felt him tremble, kissed his cheek fiercely. "It'll be okay. Come on, let's get you off the floor." They stood up, Yuffie looking more upset with each passing minute.

"I can't believe we lost it," she murmured, as they all straightened but Roxas. The blond grunted as the fire exploded in his middle, clutching the site with a low, breathy groan. Axel bent, asking fearfully, "Roxie? What's up? Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," he choked out. "Just – he got me with his gun…"

"What?"

"I – I'm not shot," he cried weakly, as everyone started lunging en masse.

"Indeed you are not," a voice growled from the doorway. They turned, Roxas paling as DiZ swept into the room, visible eye blazing. "Tell me," he said shortly.

"Fucking Vaan," Axel began, upper lip curling to reveal his teeth, cut off a moment later by a curt hand held an inch from his face.

"Roxas," he clarified in hard tones. "I wish to hear it from Roxas."

Axel bristled. "He didn't do anything wrong! He did his best!"

"I wish to hear what Roxas has to say," the man boomed suddenly, silencing the redhead, his presence electric in the space which abruptly felt so much smaller. Axel's hands tightened on the teen. Roxas took a deep breath, rubbed his face slowly.

"They had a gun… I swear, there was nothing I could do…"

.o.O.o.

"This was entirely my fault," DiZ said calmly, to the collected, as they all sat around the larger table in the centre of the dining hall, the impromptu meeting place, the emergency convergence point. All the lights were on, blazing like daytime, making the outer darkness look all the more thick in comparison. There were… gaping holes around the table. No Sora. No Cloud. No Riku. No Larxene, as yet. Kairi sat between Naminé and Axel, quietly weeping, each hand being gripped. Axel's other arm held Roxas' exhausted head against his shoulder, fingers moving slowly across his scalp. Every now and then, the boy would tense, breath hitching, and Axel would pause. He would turn his chin slightly, and press his nose into the mess of spikes until the blond relaxed again, as much as was possible in this hideous, too-quiet aftermath. Every breath could be heard. Every shoe-squeak, from the few wearing any, every chair-leg scrape, every cleared throat like a small rumble of thunder through the tension, and Roxas, with a constant dull thud in his, was doing it constantly. An air of panic coursed through his veins without cessation – he could feel time wasting, could sense the thieves getting further and further away, yet here they all sat, torn from beds and duties, doing nothing. It was tearing his nerves to shreds, made him want to leap up and demand action. He might not have stopped them, but he fucking well made it so they couldn't get away, and what had happened? What had happened? They'd got away. That was what had fucking happened. Everything, everything, every ounce of effort, had been wasted. And now they were sitting.

Cid's eyes narrowed. "Whaddaya mean, your fault? You didn't snatch the fuckin' core and shoot those goddamn arrows into Cloud and Sora."

"No. Obviously. But I've been suspicious of Vaan for a while, and made no move to intervene with his activities," the man responded placidly.

"Why?" Yuffie demanded, the Committee members less fearful of the master technician than his underlings. "If you had suspicions, why didn't you let anyone know? You didn't even tell Vincent!"

"I wanted Vaan to feel safe enough to continue," DiZ said. "I wanted firm evidence."

"Congratulations," Roxas muttered. "You got some. Now can we go after the core?"

DiZ snorted slightly, sending the blond a pitying look. "That will get us nowhere. Our only jurisdiction is within the castle walls. The instant the thieves, and Vaan, disappeared from the grounds, we lost our claim to them. At the present moment, the Jenova core is in the hands of pirates, whom can be easily bought. Were we to pursue them, attention would be drawn to the conflict, and Zanarkand soldiers would intervene. What we currently have is a quandary. If Zanarkand, however, gets hold of it, we will find ourselves with a disaster."

"But – it's – it's Twilight Town!" Roxas argued, unable to keep his agitation down, sitting straighter in his chair. "What if they do something to it? I mean – why is nothing being done?"

"There are procedures to be followed," the man replied sharply. "Ones of which you are not aware. And any delay that may happen is caused directly by Sora's foolishness, at both getting injured, and allowing Vaan to be left alone with the core."

Leon frowned. "I beg your pardon, sir, but Sora's done nothing wrong. How was he supposed to know what Vaan was up to?"

"You didn't even tell him," Roxas agreed fiercely, refusing to simply back down. "He told me he had no idea who was doing it – he trusted everyone!"

"More foolish yet," the man replied curtly. "He allowed himself to be manipulated."

"How did this go from being your fault to being Sora's?" Axel demanded. "You sure flipped that around fast, sir."

DiZ's gaze found him impassively. "We must all take our share of the blame."

"Except for Roxas," Demyx interjected, for once without his usual brightness and verve. Zexion sat quietly beside him, a numb expression in place. "I think he was really brave."

DiZ sighed. "And in the meantime managed to destroy hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of technology." His revealed eye found Roxas disapprovingly, withering whatever appreciation had been building in his chest from the show of support. It was with horror that he heard DiZ say, "You would have done better letting them leave and then alerting someone immediately. Because of your actions, instead of catching the thieves before they could exit the castle grounds, those who might have been in a reasonable position to do so were too busy rushing to the main lab to discern the cause of the alarm." The man shifted slightly, adding, "Perhaps this is the point where you will realise, Roxas, that violence does not solve problems – it merely perpetuates them. It is time you learned this, properly. I only hope you take enough from this catastrophic event to keep those words in mind."

He was struck dumb. There was – nothing he could say. Nothing he could even think. The monstrousness of the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks – he had fucked up. Badly. When he'd thought he was saving his friends, he was, in fact, just widening the distance between them, before they had even left the room… His elbows hit the table hard, head sagging, smacking into his palms. He stared at the tarnished metal surface, struggling against the freshest onslaught of tears that threatened to fall. He opened his mouth, to say something, anything, something pertinent, perhaps in his defence, the other inhabitants of the table looking on with a mixture of sympathy and frustration – but all that came whispering forth was: "I'm… so tired."

DiZ's mouth thinned. "We can hope, at least, that they won't have strayed too far. I am working on it now – I have leftover files from Jenova, and I'm attempting to track down the latest prediction. Perhaps it will have something useful to offer."

"Good luck," Axel muttered, tipping his head back with a strangled sigh. "Even before it was gone, the core was fucking around with that sort of thing…"

"It's a shame there aren't more technicians to contribute to this," the man scowled. "It would be useful to know the discrepancies you've all been taking note of."

"Maybe if you'd told us," Kairi snapped suddenly, face shining and blotchy, looking like the wreck Roxas felt himself to be. He almost envied her ability to look so distressed and haggard – he, in contrast, was now locked in the stony stages of numb shock. "Maybe we could've tried to figure it out together!" She was unintimidated by his flat look in her direction.

"Young lady, I think it's become quite apparent why nothing was said."

Young lady. Condescending fuck. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but a squeeze from both Naminé and Axel, and she fell silent, content to instead grind her teeth and think horrible thoughts in amongst the petrified ones.

It occurred to Roxas that the majority of the gathered techies right now were all recently departed from Twilight Town, within the last few years. No wonder the air around the table pulsed with so much worry. They might have left it behind, it might not be home anymore, and no, it was never real, but it was their childhood. It was their memories, and the remnants of what was once their lives. Old friends might have been left behind, consigned to remain between the invisible walls, but that didn't mean they were forgotten, didn't mean no one out here cared. Glancing around, Roxas saw fear etched into the lines of their faces, and felt a slight easing of his own. It was absorbed by the slightest amount of comfort, the likes of which not even Axel's constant touches and reassurances could grant. They were – together in this. He wasn't suffering alone. And at least no one blamed him – although he was quickly beginning to see that maybe they should. If he'd just been a good coward and stayed down, run off the second it was safe to, maybe the core would be home again, within a whole, undamaged computer. By fighting for his friends, he had lost them. That… twisted.

He scrunched handfuls of hair with a deep, gradual breath, battling firmly against the swirling, anxious self-loathing that attempted to rise, sour in his gut, in the back of his aching throat. Everything was sore outside. Everything burned inside. This was – very possibly the worst night ever. In history. He couldn't remember – ever feeling this bad before. It threatened to send him howling into a corner, when the shell that had hardened around his skin and heart finally cracked. He pressed his eyes into the heels of his palms, and waited for it all to finish. He wanted to just… find somewhere dark and curl away for the next ten years.

Axel's hand on him shifted up to the back of his neck, pressing gently, massaging to soothe. It leapt away a few seconds later, however, all heads wrenching around as a panicked Larxene came sprinting into the room. "Where is she?" Her eyes fell on Roxas, a snarl forming, taser ripped out of her pocket a moment later and jammed up against his jugular. He choked in a breath, a noise of startled fright leaping from his throat. "What did you do, you little freak?"

The table sprang to life, everyone jumping up at once. Axel lunged across the blond, whipping out his blowtorch, its flare billowing to life and searing the woman's forearm. She roared, wrenching back, skin and hair smoking. "That was on a high flame, bitch," Axel growled, just about straddling Roxas, the torch held out like a gun, steady yellow fire hissing out. "You fucking touch him again and I'll slice your fucking arm off."

"Larxene!" Naminé was up, running to the woman in horror. "What are you doing?"

Larxene's head jerked up, expression turning blank for a moment before, to everyone's unending disbelief, she burst into tears. "I thought he'd hurt you," she wailed. The blonde girl took her elbow carefully, leading her over to her chair.

"Why would you think that?" she asked gently. "Roxas is my friend, he's not going to hurt me."

"He's a fucking little psycho is what he is," she snapped, tears ending as abruptly as they'd begun, though continuing to shimmer on her reddening cheeks. She jabbed the taser in his direction, making Axel's lips peel back from his teeth. "He fucking trashed Axel's room, tore the fucking place to pieces, he broke Zexion's arm – he's out of control!"

Axel was apoplectic, preparing to climb over the table and strangle the woman judging by the sudden snap in the energy around him. Roxas grabbed him before he could act on the urge, clinging to him, mumbling desperately into his ear, "Please don't leave me." Axel hesitated, then settled back against him, careful of his throat, his ribs. He glared daggers across at her, and Larxene returned the look.

"He's not out of control," Axel said, voice shaking in its struggle to remain level. "Every time he's done anything like that, he hasn't even been aware of it."

"And is that supposed to make me feel better?" Larxene demanded. "Keep a leash on him, Axel."

"Larxene, why on earth do you think he'd hurt me?" Naminé asked, bewildered.

"Because I just saw what happened to the core! And you were on shift tonight, and I couldn't find you anywhere – " Her distress was growing again. Concerned, a flash of understanding in her eyes, Naminé, to everyone's continued astonishment, wrapped her arms around the woman and hugged her.

"Larxene, explain yourself," DiZ commanded wearily, as they all reseated. "This is no time for histrionics, we have enough to deal with."

"I heard Leon and Cloud say Roxas trashed Axel's room," she spat. The eyes of all those who didn't already know turned to the blond in surprise and confusion. "So I knew as soon as things went crazy, he had to be behind it again, and I knew that Nam was on duty tonight, and – "

"I wasn't, though," Naminé broke in softly. "Sora asked me to switch with Roxas early this morning. I was reading in my room when it all started."

Larxene stared at her for a moment. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Axel hissed. "What do you care about her, anyway? Are you two sharing a bed, or what?"

"She's my cousin, you dip-shit," Larxene replied with irritation, calming slowly now that she was certain the blonde girl was perfectly safe. "How fucking slow on the uptake are you? Nice to know you pay some fucking attention when I speak."

Axel leaned forward, hands spreading wide on the surface, unwilling to forgive or forget anytime soon. "Well, maybe if you weren't such a goddamn – "

"Roxas?" Zexion's voice was soft, uncertain, cutting Axel off in a heartbeat at the concern in it. He twisted with a frown, eyebrows springing up a moment later before drawing together.

"Roxie?"

The blond's chin was touching his chest, shoulders hunched, visibly trembling. Axel reached out to touch his face, Roxas jerking away from the touch, lips pressed together, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His muscles had hardened under his skin, increasing the level of the shaking. Silence fell among the gathered, and the creaking of the legs of Axel and Roxas' chair became audible as the boy shuddered. "Congratulations, Larx, this time you really did fucking break him," Demyx said with a sigh. Axel's head whipped around.

"Shut up," he snapped. He turned back to Roxas, slipping from the teen's knees and crouching beside him. "Roxie, honey? Are you – okay?" He slipped his fingers under Roxas' chin, easing his face up without contest, but the boy refused to look at him, eyes squeezing shut, redness blossoming slowly on the skin around them as the salt-water stained him. Axel breathed a quiet curse, sweeping a thumb over the corner of his clenched eye, before announcing tiredly, "That's it, I've had enough. You guys – you have no idea what Roxie's been going through."

"What, his precious nightmares?" Larxene sneered.

"Larxene," Axel said softly, "why don't you," his voice rose on a scale, ending in a bellowed, "shut the fuck up!" in her direction. She blinked at his vicious expression. "If you're having fucking problems," he continued to snarl, "why don't you get some fucking help, instead of being a cunt to Roxas? He's doing his best, and no matter what, something always comes along to make it worse." He stood abruptly, not taking his eyes off the teen. "I'm taking Roxas to bed. He needs it more than anyone. Whatever happens, happens. Don't come and get me unless something changes – we are going to be sleeping." His brought his gaze up, resting it on DiZ. "Roxas did the best that he knew. Be grateful he was willing to fight so hard. You want things done better, next time do them yourself." He bent at the waist, taking Roxas' hands. "Come on, Roxie," he whispered, kissing the boy's head gently. "Let's go get some rest."

The teen allowed himself to be coaxed into standing, the world remaining dark as he continued to keep his eyes clamped shut. He could still feel the twin metal points of the taser digging into his flesh, splitting through his composure like miniature knives. He felt the familiar warmth of Axel's arm around him, leading him from the table, the room, a silence being left in their wake. He could feel the eyes upon him.

Little footsteps followed them in rapid succession, Axel pausing in the hall, scowling down at the wide blue eyes gazing up at him. "I'm sorry for Larxene," Naminé said earnestly, hands knotting together anxiously. "You know how she overreacts, Axel – please don't be mad at her."

"How did I not know you guys were cousins?" Axel demanded. Naminé shrugged helplessly.

"Larxene doesn't talk about it much. I remind her of the past too much." She hesitated. "She has nightmares. That's why she'd being hard on Roxas about it – she has them a lot. Usually – it's of me being taken away. I spend a lot of time in her room at night, just – just having to comfort her. It's very upsetting for her. So, please – please don't blame her. Tonight just – brought it all up for her again. Especially with – " Her eyes darted sideways to the blond, making Axel glare heavily. " – with the things that have been… happening lately." She stood for a moment, waiting for the redhead to fill the silence that developed, perhaps just acknowledge that she had spoken, but the dislike that had entered him towards her since Roxas had come along was evident, and the hush stretched. At last, Naminé sighed. "Okay, then. I hope – I hope you feel better, Roxas. You – you did really well tonight. You were really brave, just like Demyx said." She smiled sweetly, though the teen couldn't see her. He twitched as she touched his arm in farewell. "Get some sleep."

"That's the plan," Axel said sharply. The girl disappeared back into the hall to rejoin the others. It was a long moment before Axel could tear himself away from the distaste she seemed to inspire these days. He rubbed the blond's arms. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go."

Roxas followed blindly, concentrating on his breaths, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his head switch between being a weight on his shoulders and growing so light it was nearly drifting off, from one moment to the next. His shoes, the laces of one dragging along the ground, scuffed loudly. He was too tired to lift his feet. At last, the walking stopped. A door was opened, Roxas ushered in. It closed with a low click behind him, an extra noise as it was locked, and a moment later, Axel's hands, his calming touch, was back, as always, moving and brushing and plucking and gentle. "You can open your eyes now," he said quietly. "We're home."

Roxas' eyelashes fluttered up slowly, an almost dizzy sensation descending upon him as he took in the darkness, the dry coolness. His eyes fell on the wall over the bed, realisation hitting him. "This is – your room."

Axel smiled. "Yup. Got it all cleaned up." He made a slight face. "Except for that thing on the wall. Is that – okay? We can find somewhere else if you want…?" Roxas drew in a deep breath, feeling the inner pressure relax a little. He shook his head. Axel was right – this was home. He didn't want to be anywhere else right now.

He could have collapsed on the spot, if Axel hadn't embraced him in that moment, a little of his hot strength flowing into the smaller body of the blond. Roxas buried his nose into the man's sweater, fingers digging into the material and twisting. For a long while, the only thing keeping him standing was Axel's arms, his legs limp, dangling. Axel kissed his forehead, his temple, and half-led, half-carried him to the bed. "It's going to be okay, Rox," he murmured, laying the boy down. He pulled off both their dusty shoes, dropped them to the ground. Roxas immediately writhed over a foot, opening a space for the redhead to follow. Axel lifted one lanky leg and folded himself down onto the mattress, bringing the other around, lying on his uninjured right side and starting to carefully stroke Roxas' hair with the left hand. "You can cry, if you want," he offered. Roxas, eyes closed again, this time from the beautiful, sleepy reassurance of the petting, shook his head minutely.

"I've cried enough," he said huskily. "I'm just… I'm so tired."

Axel leaned forward to kiss him. "Then sleep," he replied simply. "I'll watch over you."

For a long minute there was silence, Roxas' breaths evening out, the redhead thinking he had fallen asleep already. His eyes rose to the eerie writing on the wall, the only piece of damage they hadn't been able to eradicate yet. The floors had been swept and vacuumed, the wardrobe had been hastily patched up, the mattress had been repaired, and new sheets had been lain. He didn't think his room had ever been this clean. Smirking slightly, he lowered his gaze to the supposedly exhausted blond, surprised to see a pair of large blue eyes solemnly watching him. "…Hi," he said.

"I'm sorry," Roxas replied. When Axel frowned, he elaborated quietly, "For the wall. And – everything. I'm sorry for… everything."

Axel drew a breath and sighed. "Rox, you've got nothing to be sorry for. You did your best."His hand captured the side of the teen's face, a frown in his brow as he smiled, willing the boy to understand. "You're not to blame."

Roxas' eyes slid to the side, disinclined to agree. "Do you think they'll get to the core in time?" he asked in a small voice. Axel grimaced, a finger coming up to trace patterns on the side of his face.

"I hope so. I don't really know. This… has never happened before." He clutched the boy's chin as a bitter look flashed across his face and added sternly, "That's got nothing to do with what you did, either. It's always been Zanarkand, that's all. Zanarkand soldiers breaking in, doing their damndest to capture the core. No one else really knew or cared about it." He huffed a humourless laugh. "I never realised before now how – honourable it all was. I always thought they were dirty-fighting bastards, but at least they gave us a chance to fight back. Etiquette of the battlefield and all that. I don't think anyone ever expected to have someone waltz in beyond our defences and just – take it. It was always understood that – it'd be over our dead bodies, you know?" His grip tightened momentarily, then loosened, rising to brush some hair from the boy's eyes. "But then," he said softly, "no one expected there to be a traitor in our ranks." Pain swam through his eyes briefly. "I liked him a lot. Vaan was my friend… I can't believe he'd do this." Roxas' face creased with regret, but he said nothing. Axel's gaze lost its focus. "I like to think," he said slowly, "that maybe – maybe he waited on purpose." His eyes sharpened on Roxas. "Maybe he let me get you out first… We always got on pretty well, all us original Hollow Bastion people kind of stuck together… So maybe he was – he was letting me save you, knowing how much you meant to me…" His eyebrows drew together. "It's a coincidence, isn't it?" he persisted, almost pleadingly. "That a few weeks after you get out, he finally does it. I mean – these things take time. It wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment decision. So, I mean, who knows? He – he might have…"

Roxas was silent for a moment, before nodded a little. "He might," he said truthfully. "He didn't want me getting hurt. He – he stopped the man from hurting me, even after I hit him with the keyblade… He said – " He met the man's gaze with a frown. "He said it wasn't personal. He just wanted to be free."

Axel's expression relaxed, eyes slipping shut with a sigh. "Yeah. I can hear him saying that." He smiled, green irises reappearing. "Thanks, Roxie."

Roxas' gaze flickered upward. "It's strange to think that this place could be a prison to anyone. Hollow Bastion is freedom, to me."

Axel nuzzled him. "Vaan's brother died because of DiZ. At least, that's what he always told me. He was part of the experimental militia, DiZ's first and only attempt at any kind of fighting force – they were obliterated. He always hated it here after that, even though he stayed…" He frowned slightly, pausing. "That happened because someone betrayed them. Strange to think that he would end up taking the path of a traitor."

Roxas shrugged a little, curling closer. "I guess you never know what desperation can drive you to… He really – he really, really wanted it, that's all I know."

"He'd better have," the redhead sighed. "I hope it was a hard decision, and I hope he feels like shit. He just threw away his entire life to become a goddamn pirate. It – had better be worth it." He gripped Roxas suddenly, wrapping a leg around the boy's hip, pushing his nose into the blond's shoulder. "I can't even think about what would have happened if you weren't out yet," he said, an element of panic constricting his vocal cords. "I – I'd have lost my mind. I'd have hunted him down."

"…He wouldn't have understood," Roxas muttered. "He doesn't consider them real. He'd have told you I wasn't real. As long as they're in the simulation, they don't count, as far as he's concerned." He shivered briefly. "Am I more real now? Was I – not real before? Why – why does being here make me any different than – when I was there?"

"It doesn't," Axel said firmly, drawing back, meeting his eyes. "You're real here, you were real there. Vaan's a dick if he thinks that." He laughed bitterly. "Shit, you can tell he never lost anyone to the program, can't you?"

Roxas searched his gaze for a moment, before nodding slowly. "I guess you can." Axel grimaced, leaned in and kissed him.

"Don't look at me like that, Rox," he muttered. "Don't look like you don't know if you're real or not, for Christ's sake. You're real – you're here." That same panic that had been in his voice before entered his eyes, just an edge, common sense battling it, but not quite able to keep it at bay. "Don't start thinking you're not real, please. If you weren't real – I – I wouldn't know what I was even here for."

Roxas snorted lightly. "You'd be here for Kairi," he reminded the redhead. "And Demyx."

"You think so, do you?" Something burned in Axel's eyes, something almost disconcerting in its intensity. He glared down at Roxas. "You really think I'd have bothered hanging on, if you weren't around?"

Roxas blinked, shook his head slowly. "Axel – we were just kids. How did – how did this last your whole life long?"

"Because… you were perfect," Axel answered, with a frown. "When I first saw you in the system – I was maybe ten, or eleven – you were just – you were perfect, Roxas. You were my friend. My best friend. I watched you grow up, practically, and – and whenever I'd gone and whored myself out, I'd end up sitting in the lab watching you for hours on end, kicking out whoever was on duty… Just to remind myself that my life wasn't stupid and worthless. It had a purpose – and that purpose was you, Rox. If you hadn't been around to give me that, I don't think I would've bothered. Do you have any idea what the suicide rate was around here for a few years? Hanging bodies, left, right, and centre… People without purpose…"

Roxas shuddered a little, tucking his chin in, closing his eyes to block the thought of Axel being among those ranks. The redhead was silent for a moment, before whispering, "Please. Please, Roxas, open your eyes." Roxas swallowed, eyelashes rising without thought. They were nose to nose, staring. "You are real – aren't you?" There was almost – dread in his tone. As if Roxas was going to answer negatively, and then simply fade out of existence. In anticipation of such an event, his grip tightened around the blond, leg shifting slightly around his hip. However, Roxas smiled weakly. "I think so."

"You think so?" Axel's eyes narrowed. He suddenly grabbed a handful of blond spikes, tugging sharply, making Roxas gasp. "Was that real? Did it feel real?" Before the teen could even object or respond, he shifted his hand down to the boy's hip, slipped under his shirt and pinched hard, almost cruelly. It was so close to the site of the other pains, and coming from such an unexpected source, that tears sprang involuntarily to Roxas' eyes. "Was that real, Rox?" Roxas drew in a breath of protest, ready to tell him to knock it off, but again, Axel didn't bother to wait for an answer before continuing. He shifted his hips away from the blond's, yanked open the top button of Roxas' jeans, thrust his hand inside the boy's boxers and squeezed. Roxas' head thrust back, hips jerking forward, a startled, gasping moan escaping. Axel paused at last, eyes narrowing. His fingers tightened fractionally, making the blond squirm. "Well, Roxas? What about this? Does it feel real?"

Hazy blue eyes met green, a film of sweat over his brow, lips parted. He croaked, "That – felt – real." A hard smirk appeared on the redhead's lips, thinning them. But when, a moment later, Roxas breathlessly added, "I love you, Axel," the man's expression faltered.

"You're not going to – leave me, are you?" Roxas shook his head sharply.

"Why – the fuck – would I go anywhere without you?"

Axel stared for a long moment, then leaned in for a kiss. He started kneading the semi-hard erection in his hands, making Roxas grunt and sigh, muscles shivering. The kiss was hard, and deep, his tongue delving deep into the blond's mouth. Roxas, overcome by sensation, bulldozed by the force behind each administration, helplessly responded, feeling as though, any moment, he would simply shatter and be absorbed by the power of Axel's wants and needs.

Axel pushed him slightly, so he was on his back, and slung himself onto the blond's thighs without ever breaking either contact. Roxas was writhing slowly beneath him, whimpering softly into his mouth, a white haze enveloping the world, taking his eyes rolling back. And then, just as sharply as it all had begun, Axel's hand withdrew from his pants, lips pulling away, leaving Roxas sweating and trembling. "A-Axel – "

"I'm sorry," the man murmured. "That was – mean of me. I shouldn't have started off like that… I'm sorry."

"Axel?"

The redhead tugged his sweater off in a couple of short motions, threw it to the ground, then lowered himself down onto his elbows, keeping his weight off the injured ribs, face hovering over the blond's. "I'll do it properly this time." His lips met Roxas', soft, gentle, loving. It was like stepping from icy cold water into hot – or – or maybe the other way around. It was – a shock, going from one extreme to the next. Roxas barely knew where his head was, or his body. They been separated and thrown into opposite sides of a pool. Axel's lips caressed his own, tongue this time used to coax, to brush, to dip and pleasure, rather than just – just needfully plundering. His hands roamed freely down the blond's body, swimming small circles over any flesh that had been revealed by his increasingly rumpled shirt, touch burning like the hot metal of a lighter, searing invisibly against Roxas' skin. This time, Roxas was able to participate, and returned the exploration, fingers trailing beneath the redhead's shirt, the semi-familiar planes of his stomach, his ribs, finding his nipples and stroking them. Axel occasionally shivered, a minute moan spilling from his lips. Sometimes, they would break apart, foreheads crushed together, noses pressing, and regain their breath, hands always moving.

Axel dropped his face into Roxas' throat, tongue dragging across the skin, while he reached back and grabbed the shoulders of his t-shirt, yanking and tugging until it was around his neck. He lifted his head briefly, both of them snatching the material away. Roxas dropped it to the ground, and they were kissing again. It took only a minute for the blond's top to follow, Axel sitting back on his crotch, making him groan, taking hold of the hem and dragging it slowly upward, revealing each inch of flesh with agonising anticipation. He hesitated as the bruising came into view, a repulsive purple-blue maelstrom where the shotgun had stabbed into him. He paused the removal, lowered and kissed the area tenderly, Roxas grunting slightly at the pain even this light touch brought. Carefully avoiding it, Axel straightened and finished his task, pulling the offending material away, smiling at the mess it left the blond's spikes in. He eased down, skin on skin, chests pressed together. Roxas wrapped his arms around the man, tugging him closer still, uncaring of the pain it brought. They kissed, wet noises filling the room, before Axel moved around to his ear and whispered hoarsely, "Now the pants – you're a bastard for ever wearing any."

Roxas' answering giggle was cut off, lip bitten as Axel went straight to task, climbing off him, leaving him feeling too light and empty for the brief second it took for the redhead's hands to find his jeans and just start shoving. In moments, there was nothing touching his skin at all. There was a quick rustling, the sound of a zipper, and the next time that Axel climbed atop him, there was only skin, skin and nothing, skin and heat. He started to lift his head, flung it back down to the pillow a second later as Axel's mouth slid over his erection, tongue spreading down the tight skin. "Fuck." One hand slid between his thighs, spreading them apart while the redhead sucked and kissed. As a finger entered him a minute later, he gasped a little, letting out a startled noise. There was a moist noise as Axel lifted his face, licking his lips, saying hoarsely, "It's okay… I'm just showing you how it feels… You'll like it – just relax, Roxie."

"Axel's Roxie," the boy moaned in correction, as Axel's head descended once more, his limbs shivering as the sucking resumed, the finger continuing. It was a foreign sensation, almost disturbing, almost distracting him from the intense pleasure that burst through every nerve. He could feel the digit moving inside him, squirming deeper. He tried to relax, like Axel had told him to, telling himself that things were going to be okay – there was a rise of nervousness – but then – "Oh, fuck." The fingertip touched his prostate a second time, and Roxas gave a breathy scream, soft but pure. Axel's mouth left him, a low chuckle coming at the whimper of loss as the finger also withdrew. "Axel…"

"Ssh, it's okay," the man whispered. He dragged his body up along Roxas', both of them moaning, and planted a kiss on the teen's mouth. "It's lucky I'm always prepared, huh?" he panted.

"What?" Roxas barely even heard the words, was hardly able to utter one back, tongue pressing thickly to the roof of his mouth. Axel reached under the pillow, kissing the blond as he went, pulling out a small tube of lubricant.

"Love you, Roxie."

"Love… you…"

He drew back again, squeezing some of the fluid onto one hand and rubbing them together to spread it, warm it. A moment later, his palm was sliding up and down Roxas' shaft, spreading the oil evenly, the boy shaking and gasping at the incredible contact. The bottle was tossed aside for now, hitting the ground with a low clatter. Axel, fingers slick, crawled up the teen's body, leaving marks on the sheet. He lowered his mouth onto Roxas', then eased down onto the teen's erection, at first just touching it, then pressing down, filling himself slowly. Roxas let out a strangled cry through his teeth. For a brief moment, his eyes cleared, locking on the green ones. "Doesn't… that – hurt?"

"Rather me than you," the man murmured. A small smile fluttered onto his face, head shaking a little. "And no – I – I prepared myself… it just feels…" He seated himself, sucking in a shivering breath, lowered his chest to Roxas', mouth against the boy's collar. "It feels like you."

Roxas fell back into the crystal haze as, after a minute, Axel began to rock, carefully at first, then with growing power. Their gasps and moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls, breaths intermingling, choked cries escaping one mouth to be swallowed by the other. "Roxas…"

The blond's hands found Axel's thighs and grabbed hold, nails scratching up and down the skin as they moved together. The meat of his right palm kept brushing a thick rope of flesh, fingertips finding it and teasing it unconsciously, running along it in rhythm with their motions. Axel made a keening noise, high and desperate, bending down close, fixing his mouth on Roxas' jaw and starting up a steady suction, hands massaging his chest.

"I love you," Roxas whimpered out, head twisting from side to side, sweat slick between their bodies. Axel's teeth scraped him, a long, low moan exiting his throat. His motions quickened, driving himself down three more times with a cry, before ejaculating sharply. He ground his hips down violently, eliciting a shrill breath from the blond, who followed suit bare moments later, body shaking and jerking, chest rising, heels digging into the mattress as his hands clutched one last time at the redhead's legs.

There was long, silent moment in which neither of them breathed, riding the last of the sensation until it lessened. Then suddenly Axel flopped onto him, hands jamming behind his head, pulling him close for a deep, long kiss. As they parted, he gasped, "Thank you. Oh, my God, thank you for being real."

He fell slowly off the blond, wishing he could stay but mindful of injuries, lying beside him, shoulder aching badly from the exertion, everything else simply humming. Roxas remained on his back for a long while, regaining his breath, feeling the sweat cool and trickle. The covers were damp with semen, around and beneath him. Axel clumsily gathered the sheet and mopped them both off, collecting as much of the mess as he could, that which hadn't already been absorbed into the mattress. As Roxas' eyelids flickered shut, he balled it up and tossed it away onto the ground. He reached down with a grunt, grabbing hold of the blanket, pulling it up over the blond's body, kissing the boy's forehead sloppily. "Don't want you getting cold…" Roxas cracked open an eye, utterly relaxed, at peace for the first time in days, and smiled. He shook his head, lifted a corner and gestured with his head.

"It's big enough for two, you know." Axel grinned wearily, yanked it over his own bare skin and settled beside the blond. Roxas yawned, turning onto his side, throwing an arm around the redhead's waist, a leg around his leg, twining them together with an easy, lazy intimacy he hadn't previously possessed. His heart had slowed to its regular rate, and then a little less, as he drowsily pressed his clammy face into Axel's neck. The green eyes were shut, an equally tranquil expression drawn pleasantly across the man's features. Roxas' hand brushed slowly up and down his thigh. "…Axel…?"

"Mm."

"What's this line…?" He traced a few fingers along the fleshy rope.

"Mm." Axel nestled his mouth into Roxas' hair, so that when he spoke, the vibrations of his voice travelled down into the teen's scalp. "'Member when I told you – about getting hurt when I was younger? When you first started learning to fight…?"

"Mm?"

He shifted his hand under the cover, placed it over Roxas', drawing them both along the line. "This is what happened… The guy…" A yawn. "The guy split my leg open to the bone, destroyed a couple muscles, shattered the bone. It still twinges during rainy weather, but I did some therapy, got it back to almost normal."

"Almost?"

"Mm. It was always… just a little weaker… after that." His smiled. "'M all better now, though. It was a long time ago." He kissed the boy's head. "I'm here with you now."

Roxas curled up beside him, eyes sliding shut at last, no longer able to fight the pull of sleep. "I love you, Axel."

"I'll always love you, Axel's Roxie's Roxie," the redhead mumbled. "Forever and ever…"

.o.O.o.

The swing-set was swallowed, a fierce wind whipping, a howl in the air, the ground crumbling away, bright, blinding white filling the small universe of the playground. Roxas was crushed against the invisible wall, screaming, hammering his fists back against it. It didn't part for him, didn't slide him through at the last moment, into the safety of the darkness – instead, the last inches of sand dissolved from under him, and Roxas fell. He fell into the light, his mother's embrace, felt her claws dig deep into his brain, into his soul, and be sucked into his lungs. There was no playground, there was nothing.

Eventually, slowly, Roxas' wailing lessened. It faded away. He found himself filled with voices, some louder, others whispering. Then came one, more powerful than the rest, wiping them easily aside and settling down between his ears.

Mother has been waiting for you to return. It is time, darling son, for you to be my rescuer. Mother will show you the way to go.

And Roxas said, "Okay."

.o.O.o.

Roxas opened his eyes, and looked at Axel. The redhead was sleeping soundly, features slack. He smiled gently, and kissed his nose. "You're such a good boy." He sat up, pushing back the covers, stood awkwardly with a hand on the wall, trying to move without waking the slumberer up. He crept to the end of the bed, mattress sinking under his weight, and clambered carefully down, bare feet touching the cold floor. "Clothes," he muttered, shivering slightly. He located them, pulled them on, slid his feet into his shoes, lacing them tightly. He hesitated. He would need weapons, but the keyblades had been confiscated… He glanced around the room, messy now with the redhead's few items of clothing, the soiled sheet. Frowning, Roxas went over to the wardrobe, pulling the doors open in search of the man's chakrams.

Imagine his surprise, when he found his father's keyblades sitting within, propped against the wooden back beside Axel's wheels. "Hello," he said. He drew them out with a smile, admiring them for a moment. "We prefer these to the ones the good boy made," he decided. "He is very, very good, but these are older, better remembered."

His voice made Axel stir on the bed, drawing his attention over. Roxas frowned slightly. He glanced around, found the man's jeans, bent and dug through each pocket until he located the key to the door. Smirking, he went over and unlocked it, balancing one keyblade against the wall. "Tried to keep us in, huh? A good boy, definitely, but not necessarily the most clever." He turned to smile affectionately at the redhead. A twitch started up beside his left eye, a second commencing at the corner of his mouth a moment later. "The good boy… he will try to follow us." He sighed, frowned for a moment. "He will be the first to notice we are gone. He will come looking for us." He headed back towards the bed, staring down at the long-limb, naked figure. There was a small crease between the red brows, the slumber not so peaceful with the constant murmur of Roxas' voice in the background. There was part of him programmed to wake up at the sound of it.

Roxas' head snapped briefly to one side, shoulder jerking up, before easing down into placidity again. "You're such a good boy," he smiled. His eyes went to one bare leg, the one that was marred with the pink-white stripe of raised flesh up towards the hip. He nodded to himself. "You see? Mother is always right. The left leg, just like she said." His head whipped back sharply, neck cracking loudly, eyes wide. But then, just as quickly if not more smoothly, his chin lowered back down, the smile returning. Roxas lifted up his father's keyblades, stepping back a little from the bed. He lined them up, before placing one beside the bed, on the ground. "Better to use one. Roxas has more power in his arms that way."

He turned slightly to one side, swung the keyblade over his right-hand shoulder, measuring and calculating quickly with his eyes. "Hmm." His muscles readied themselves, then spasmed. His torso snapped down, doubling over with a gasp, the motion upsetting the spare keyblade so that it clattered onto its side. Axel's eyes flickered, almost opened. Roxas scowled, shook himself straight. "Behave now," he muttered, scolding. He hefted the keyblade once more, paused, as if to see if there would be any further dissent, then nodded once. His grip tightened, shoulders hardening, and the keyblade swung down with every ounce of strength that could be summoned.

Axel woke up, and screamed deafeningly, a bare moment after the awful splitting noise filled the room. Agony tore from his throat in an almost endless howl, making Roxas scowl. Others would be alerted at this rate. He stepped away from the bed, the motion catching the redhead's attention. The terrible shrieking was muted at the sight of Roxas, calm with his bloodied keyblade. "Roxas!" It came out as a shrill whisper, face white-grey, pupils like new moons, the green scarcely evident.

"You mustn't follow us," the blond said reasonably. "You're a very, very good boy, though – Roxas' love is such a good boy. He always took such good care of mother, even if only to protect Roxas." He smiled. "Mother is sorry for the pain. Roxas is even sorrier." He gagged suddenly, bending forward, nearly choking on his own tongue, a squirt of bile shooting onto the floor. He coughed several times, calming down, standing tall again. Axel's eyes were rolling in his skull, his narrow chest rising and falling erratically. "We say good-bye now," the blond said. "Roxas has to rescue mother – and others, of course. Mother has many children still, all needing saving."

He turned to leave. Axel took a deep breath, screamed, "ROXAS!"

The blond continued, hearing the wails grow hysterical in his wake as he left the room, travelled the halls. Eventually, they faded, those tortured, broken, half-mad noises. He had left one keyblade behind, but that didn't matter, really. One would be sufficient.

He left the castle by one of the lesser-known entrances, and walked on through the night.