CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Kadaj had an army-issue motorbike tucked away into the trees, creating a tense moment during which Vincent, Leon and Jenova argued over who would ride it out of the forest, while the remaining pair hiked back to where Cloud's bike rested several miles away. Though he was a key subject in the discussion, Kadaj stood silently by, under Vincent's watchful eye, and stared blankly at the trees. It was when they tried to tie his hands that the silver-haired man finally reacted, panicked. "W – wait," he exclaimed anxiously, pulling away from Leon only to fall back into Vincent, a hand closing tightly around each arm. His eyes widened, breaths suddenly shallow and shrill. He wrenched forward, fighting to break the man's grip, crying with increasing lack of control, "Let me go!" He sucked in deeply, stiffened, then let out a growl, collapsing his weight onto Vincent as he kicked his legs high. He grabbed Leon by the neck before the brunet could react in time, the toe of one boot curling behind his spine while the heel of the other jammed into his larynx. "I said let me go," he snarled.
Leon froze, scarcely able to inhale, small creaks escaping his lips as he attempted to, with increasing need. Vincent had his gun out even as the man was moving, jabbed the barrel under Kadaj's chin, muttering as soon as he finished speaking, "Let him go."
"Oh, I insist, you first," the soldier hissed.
"Stop! That is enough!" Roxas' voice was high, demanding, alarmed by the rate at which things had transpired, sluggish senses rendering Jenova slower to react. Kadaj twisted his head, pupils vast, body quivering in its arrow-like position. Leon's desperate choking filled the silence, the world seeming to hold its breath as the silver-haired man hung poised between choices. Roxas' head shook slowly from side to side. "If you do not behave," Jenova said, a warning in her tone, "you will be taken away from mother."
Kadaj's eyes narrowed, chest hitching slightly, head angling back minutely under the pressure of Vincent's gun. A tense moment passed, before the man abruptly unwound from Leon, boots clumping heavily to the mud. In a heartbeat, Vincent had him hauled up, arm twisted securely behind his back, the gun digging against his jaw. Lips peeled from teeth, Kadaj leaned his face away from the threat, though it relentlessly followed. Leon was bent, gasping, hands wrapped around his neck. His head lifted, he spat hoarsely, "He's insane."
"I don't want to be tied up!" the man cried back.
"Should've thought of that before you became a murdering, kidnapping bastard!"
"Enough," Jenova repeated sharply, stepping in among them with a glare. "Both of you, discontinue speaking. And you – " A finger swept up to stab at Vincent. "Remove your weapon from Kadaj."
"This isn't going to work," Leon said angrily, straightening, hair a mess. "We have to get rid of him!"
Kadaj resumed his struggles at the statement, Jenova bristling, fingers closing tight around the jewellery box, but before she could launch into a tirade, Vincent quietly asked, "Do you want to be the one to do it, Leon?"
"No one will harm Kadaj," Roxas raged. "We had an agreement, Committee members!"
Leon, however, was looking suddenly startled. "I didn't mean – "
"It's a little different out of the heat of battle – I doubt you're ready to become an assassin," the amber-eyed man continued softly. "And those days of mine are too distant for this."
The brunet sighed sharply, dragging the heel of his palm across his creased brow. "Okay, fine." His gaze found Kadaj, cold. "But anymore shit like that, and I will personally knock you out and drag you to the castle behind the bike, got it?"
"It's a fucking deal," the silver-haired man sneered in return.
"Kadaj," Jenova cautioned. He hesitated, lapsed into dark silence. Leon stared, shook his head.
"Whatever," he muttered to himself. He lifted his eyes, met with Vincent's. "So, you'll stick with him?" He frowned at the answering nod. "Be careful."
Jenova eyed them both narrowly. "I am still not happy about this separation." She looked at Kadaj, concern flickering to life in Roxas' blue eyes. "But I have been reassured that at least the ex-assassin will not cause harm…" A deep breath was heaved. "Kadaj." The man glanced up resentfully. "You must not cause trouble during the journey. Mother will be waiting at the castle for you – please, do not be long. Roxas' physical form is failing. It requires rest." They all took a moment to stare, reminded that Roxas was, in fact, still present in the proceedings. Jenova was too good at consuming attention, twisting minds to see her as herself, rather than a ghost inhabiting a shell. Roxas was still as much a mess as ever – the dangerous chill had not subsided from his flesh, but Jenova controlled the shivers, kept them down, found them too distracting. The brightness of his eyes belonged not to him, but the program. Leon was gripped with sudden dread for what would be left of Roxas when all this was over. Forgetting his previous ire, his doubt, remembering why they agreed to this in the first place, he shrugged off his jacket, striding over to the boy.
"Put this on," he commanded. Kadaj's eyes thinned, from the tone of the man's voice and the fact that it was Leon, not he himself, helping Roxas.
"I'll behave," he said, drawing her attention. She smiled, nodded.
"Mother will meet you, then. You are her good boy, Kadaj."
Leon cut Vincent an irritated look. "We'll see you there. Watch yourself." Vincent inclined his head. Clamping his hands on Roxas' shoulders, Leon forcefully steered the boy over to where the bike sat, covered in tarpaulin, keys ready in the ignition. He ripped the cover away, a sense of urgency entering his blood. "Get on the bike."
Jenova was finding it difficult to keep the shaking down all of a sudden – the warmth of the jacket, Leon's own heat, was stealing control from her as Roxas' muscles fought to tremble and aid the process. She staggered a little, frowned, renewed her grip on the body, and climbed clumsily onto the machine, sitting awkwardly. Leon grabbed Roxas' hips, slid him back several inches, swung his own leg over the bike and settled, kicking up the stand. "Arms around me," he said with terse impatience, as Jenova continued to clutch the jacket closed. She reached forward, hooked them around the man's waist. A sharp sigh, Leon straightening briefly, grabbing Roxas' hands and tugging, tightening the blond's elbows around his ribs. Jenova let out an involuntary hiss on the boy's behalf, pain reaching up to her lofty position without warning. Grimly, Leon bent over the bike, started it up, put it into gear and set off.
There was an obvious trail to be followed from the cabin, where the tires had already churned the ground two days previously, and every time before that. Kadaj hadn't bothered keeping his entrances irregular, never imagining he would be discovered, perhaps not caring in his Cloud-obsessed state. The bike tore along, the air whipping and whistling around them, Roxas' grip tightening instinctively, even if the boy himself wasn't there to make it so. The fear gripping Leon's heart heightened a notch, took up residence. He changed gears, went faster.
They blew out onto the main road fifteen minutes later, while Vincent and Kadaj continued to trek through the woods, four miles left before they reached Cloud's vehicle of choice. The silver-haired man refused to speak, suiting Vincent just fine. The thin man sensed none of the madness swirling the air that he had been told of by those that had encountered him in the castle. No fires burnt within him now, there was resignation to his pose, mingled with… something else. Perhaps a small amount of anticipation? Vincent wondered what it was that had joined him so firmly to Jenova, even knowing that she was only a program. Then again, it was hardly surprising when he thought about it – her main prerogative was to protect and nurture the parentless, take them as her own, and for someone as traumatically disturbed as the young man in question, Vincent could imagine it being like a lifeline thrown into an endless ocean.
He spared the occasional sideways glance, to study as opposed to simply tracking at a peripheral level. There was – a blankness to the man's expression that hadn't existed in Jenova's presence. He sensed no remorse from his actions, nothing to suggest that he regretted having nearly killed one man, blasted a mere boy into eventual death, only three nights previously. He was the seasoned killer, it would seem, that Vincent had researched. He had been trained well, had put it to practice too many times to start repenting now. No doubt another factor to his madness, but then again, maybe not. After all, he hadn't been like this until Sephiroth had killed himself and three younger men… Vincent wondered who the third had been.
As they at last neared the bike, Kadaj started tugging restlessly at his bindings, which Vincent had applied, this time without struggle, after Jenova disappeared with Leon. "It was your own fault, you know," he said quietly, earning a startled glare, the man not expecting to be addressed. "You shouldn't have stolen the materials for your hut from the Committee supplies. It gave you away."
Kadaj stared for a moment, before asking faintly, "That's… how you found me?" Vincent nodded, going to where the bike rested. Kadaj followed behind. His eyes fell upon the machine, dulled, his motions pausing. "This is Cloud's."
"It is." Vincent gestured, cloak swinging. "Hop on. They'll be back by now. I doubt Jenova will want to be kept waiting."
"J…" Teal-green eyes remained fixed on the bike. "…We're riding… Fenrir?"
"You need to climb on now."
"Is Cloud going to be at the castle?" A faint thread of desperation. Vincent's gaze narrowed.
"Whether Cloud is there or not, it's time to leave. Jenova is the one holding your safety. Despite what I may have said earlier…" A silken quality entered his bearing, his tone. "I will do what is necessary, just as I always have, if it comes down to it."
Kadaj finally glanced away from the vehicle, the threat shivering the air. He stiffened, a flash of anger lighting his gaze, but as he looked backat the bike, almost against his will, it leaked away, replaced by something colder. "Alright. I'm ready to go."
They exited the forest ten minutes later, and started back towards the castle, Vincent's gun out of his holster, gripped awkwardly in his hand along with the handlebar, where Kadaj wouldn't be able to snatch at it if the mood struck him. He may have seemed tamed by the computer's manipulative tongue, but Vincent refused to take chances. To do so with a man such as the one he was ferrying would be foolishness. Still, Kadaj stayed silent at his back, his presence empty though his body was warm. Vincent thought of Roxas in his frozen state, and hoped wearily that the boy would be okay.
They drew up to the castle, engine rumbling, throbbing, then cutting out. The path was deserted. Vincent was certain that Roxas was within Aerith's care, very possibly already taken to hospital, whether Jenova allowed it or not. Roxas' life might have seemed virtually expendable to her, considering her actions so far, but there wasn't a single person within those walls that would tolerate such treatment of him. The thought of Aerith versus Jenova was briefly amusing, if a touch disconcerting.
The man looped Kadaj's arms back over his head, climbed from the bike, returning his gun to its home at his thigh. He turned to see that the soldier had remained in place, was staring down at the machine. "We need to go in," Vincent said on a sigh. "The others will be waiting for you. Jenova will be."
"She said… she'd meet me," Kadaj muttered, face to the side.
"Roxas will be being cared for," the man replied patiently. "He looks awful. Leon won't have just waited around outside with Roxas slowly dying while we walked through the woods. Jenova is inside."
Kadaj lowered his head, shoulders hunching, trembling briefly before lifting his head and yelling, "How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know you haven't – haven't taken her away, and – and – "
Vincent grunted softly, faintly surprised by the motion that caught his attention, twisting his head to note it. "She's here." Kadaj looked up sharply, trepidation washing over his tightening features at the party of people that had emerged from the castle. Roxas descended first, alongside DiZ, Aerith and Leon glaring in the background. Someone, probably Aerith, had cleaned the blood from the multitude of claw marks marring the blond's face. He had a thick fur-lined overcoat on, though his same ripped and wet clothes peeked through the flapping opening with each step. There was a grim look to his expression, a displeasure that made Kadaj cower slightly. Roxas' movements were graceful, just a slight limp, Jenova overriding his weaknesses to appear more confident. From the way that Leon and Aerith were eyeing him off, Vincent suspected that any false moves would have them clubbing him over the head and dragging him back down the mountain to a room near Axel's.
It was only as they neared that Roxas relaxed a little, Jenova sending Kadaj a small smile. She stopped, lifted her icy hands to cup his face, Kadaj flinching uncertainly at the touch. "Mother is here now." Blue eyes rose to his forehead, the dried blood providing a war-paint down his nose, through his brows. "Is Kadaj's head still hurting?"
He blinked, slight confusion touching his features. "I – I don't know. I can't… feel."
Jenova turned to the pink-clad brunette. "You must heal him."
Aerith's eyes flashed. "I will do no such thing. This man…" Hate, foreign and bewildered, mixed with pain in her gaze. "… killed a boy, kidnapped another, stabbed Axel, and – and the state of Roxas…" She drew a sharp, angry breath. "He shouldn't even be here at all."
"Nevertheless, he is now my son," Jenova stated, making Kadaj jolt, eyes widening at the blunt force of the declaration. Aerith's eyes became slits, her voice rising to echo from the castle walls, swallowed by the ravine. "He is not a Twilight Child! How dare you rank this monster among the orphans?"
Kadaj's breath hitched. "I'm not a monster," he croaked, drawing her gaze.
"You don't deserve peace," she replied coldly. His brows rose, a hopelessness entering his expression, mouth slackening. His desperate gaze locked with hers for a long moment, disappointment sharp. "I… don't?"
She frowned, as Jenova scowled, seethed. The anger on Roxas' face, directed her way, was enough to silence Aerith, withdrawing into hurt uncertainty. Her green eyes flickered back to Kadaj, puzzled, hesitant. "Kadaj deserves what all mother's children have," Jenova said firmly. Roxas' hands slipped into his, the man's wrists still bound. She squeezed them, drew him carefully off the bike, focusing on keeping him steady. His knees sank a little, slight lack of focus in his eyes suggesting a concussion. Jenova tutted, took him by the hand, turned back to the castle. DiZ blocked her way.
"I don't think I can allow this," he said, for once irresolution in his tone. Roxas' chin lifted, Jenova calm.
"Master, you have little choice," she reminded him. "I may have relinquished the core back into your care, but I still exert control over its actions. We are one and the same – if you deceive me, you deceive the core. We will not function until we have our newest son in our care."
The one golden eye tightened with conflicted frustration. "You call me 'master'," he growled, "yet you utterly ignore me and make your own decisions. I created you."
"Children do not forever remain within the influence of their authority," she softly replied. "You have taken enough of my children, I have let enough of them go, for me to understand this."
"…You are far more sentient within Roxas," he observed, not without disapproval, single eye squinting.
Roxas, in a very unmechanical way, shrugged. "Within Roxas, I do not have a city and its occupants to focus on."
The man pursed his mouth, gaze transferring to the soldier gripping her hand, a half-dazed, half-wary stamp across his features. "And what do you have to say about this? Why should I allow a high-ranked Zanarkand soldier with a recent history of violent insanity into Twilight Town, among children, young people trying to live their lives?"
"Why has nothing to do with it," Jenova cut in warningly. "I have delivered you the ultimatum, you have no choice but to agree, or doom not only Roxas, but the entirety of Twilight Town to obscurity."
He stared for a long moment, uncomprehending. "Why?" he uttered at last. "How have you become this attached to someone not even part of the program?"
"Mother is a mother to all that need," she replied sharply. "She does not discriminate from one child to the next."
He sent her a hard look, glanced back at Kadaj. "You do realise what she is attempting, don't you? She would have you trapped within the simulation for the rest of your days – you would, effectively, be imprisoned indefinitely."
The silver-haired man lowered his chin slightly. "Isn't that… what would happen anyway?" He looked at them from under his brow. "You found me. I'm tied up. I've hurt people." He glanced away. "The simple fact that I – I ran away… would have me dishonourably discharged. C-Cloud owns all our possessions." He stumbled over the name. "I have… nothing." Hollowness. "Where's my bag?" He lifted his head sharply, panicking. "Where's my bag?! My gun – my brother's gun, where is it?" They all stared at him blankly, including Leon and Vincent, who hadn't thought to bring the man's belongings along. "Th-there's a bullet in it, for me. I n-need my brother's gun."
In the face of the others' shock, Jenova cradled his chin. "You will not need your brother's gun. You are coming home with mother." Her touch remaining gentle, she turned her head, voice like ice, and said, "Roxas continues to degenerate. I no more want him harmed than I do Kadaj, but you drag this out and endanger him. His core temperature is low. He is infected. Either find a definitive argument, or let's move this along."
"But…" DiZ shook his head slowly. "How will he be any better off within the simulation? He will be the same person. His mind will be as disturbed as ever, even with his memories smoothed over. It will be like delivering a time-bomb into the confines of an elevator."
"Then the memories will be removed," she answered harshly. "They will be dug out at their root and replaced. Do not act as if I do not know it can be done. The girl-child will make it possible – I am her mother, I know her mind, I know her skills." She eyed him haughtily, his budding resignation. "Now, do you acquiesce, or is this futile bickering going to continue? You do not have time on your side, and I will not relent." She looked back to Kadaj, a frown forming on Roxas' beaten features. "My son… needs saving."
"Yes, he does," Leon agreed curtly. "From you. We have no choice right now, DiZ – Roxas is sick, you can tell just by looking at him. If we don't get him to hospital soon, we might be too late. We need to get this done."
The man fell steadily into a glare as Leon spoke, his gaze locked on Roxas'. A long, tense moment passed. "Very well," he muttered. "Luxord should have installed the core by now. We will go directly to the computer laboratory." He stepped back, folded his arms sharply behind his back, and turned on the spot, stalking regally back up the ramp. Her grip tighter on Kadaj's weak hand, Jenova tugged gently, got him walking. Together, they made their way up to the castle entrance, just as Cloud emerged, a wild look in his eyes. Leon faltered, glanced between him and Kadaj. "Cloud…"
The man's wide blue eyes found him, blank for a moment. "Why – didn't you tell me he was here? Why didn't you tell me it was…" He looked back to the silver-haired man. "…him?"
Kadaj had stopped, was staring at Cloud, frozen still. Slowly, incredibly gradually, he turned his head to look at Roxas. His gaze stayed for a moment, before swivelling back. "…Cloud?" A long moment passed, in which the two men just looked at each other, blue eyes conflicted, green strangely empty. Confusion flickered a moment later. "Sephiroth's gone." Cloud's expression sagged with pity, tinged with anger, frustration.
"Why did you do this?" he asked through his teeth.
"…You left us." His head turned slowly away, eyes lowering blankly to the ground. "I tried to make it… as if you never had."
"Continue, please," DiZ called impatiently from ahead, already within the castle. Jenova was more than ready to comply, already pulling the man along, Kadaj coming easily. Cloud caught his elbow, jerked them to a brief stop, gaze wide and pleading. "Just – tell me what happened? With Sephiroth. Did you – did you do it?"
Kadaj paused, shook his head, an almost thoughtful expression fixed on his features, though it was torn in places. "I came home," he said quietly, "and they were dead on the kitchen floor… He was in his chair, and his head was gone." Tears pricked at his eyes, though he didn't seem to notice them, face not acknowledging them, that same look remaining. "He didn't bother to wait for me." Cloud hitched a pained breath, features dropping even further, as his brows rose into his hair. His eyes were a study in agony, on behalf of the broken young man standing before him, relating the tale so – so calmly. "And so," Kadaj continued softly, "I found our aide, and I shot him. He had hair… just like mine…" His fingers raised, Jenova releasing him, and touched the frayed ends of his silver locks. Cloud closed his eyes sharply. "At least now I know what I'll look like," he murmured, "if I ever decide to blow my face off."
"That's enough." The blond's voice shook, horror and rage, and deep, deep despair. He was crying. Kadaj raised his eyes gradually, met Cloud's, and again, they stared. "Keep going, Kadaj," the man said at last, tremulously. "DiZ is waiting."
The green irises settled for a moment on the tears sliding down his face, faintly interested in why, or perhaps even how. He nodded slightly. "Bye, Cloud." He hesitated, before adding, "I'm leaving you now." He slipped his hand back into Roxas', and he and Jenova continued up to the castle, leaving the blond to sag into Leon's arms, the brunet never far away. His low moan followed them in through the broad doors, and was lost.
Demyx was just inside, standing anxiously beside Aerith, who had her arms around him, the stricken look on her face telling that she had overheard the exchange. A small noise escaped Demyx's throat as he saw Roxas, a hand fluttering up to his mouth. Shortly, DiZ commanded, "Demyx, find Naminé, bring her to the computer laboratory immediately. It would seem – " Golden eye flashed balefully in their Jenova's direction. " – that Roxas' life depends upon it."
The blond swallowed, ventured, "Roxas?" as Jenova and Kadaj went walking by. His eyes were stuck on their joined hands. Jenova ignored him, they passed him by. His voice became shrill: "Roxas?"
Footsteps, leading away. He let go of Aerith, trailed behind them, deflecting DiZ's stern, "Demyx. Naminé. Now."
"Roxas, Axel misses you," he cried out, grabbing at the collar of his t-shirt, tugging with distress.
Roxas paused. His head turned slightly to the side, chin tucking in. Jenova tightened her grip on Kadaj. In a voice so like his own, the blond said, "Roxas misses his love also. They are good boys." He glanced over his shoulder, smiled. "As are you, and your own."
They resumed walking, left Demyx to struggle with her words and be sent by Aerith to find Naminé. The brunette woman followed the small group at a distance, hesitant, a little lost. DiZ led the way with heartfelt disgruntlement. Their steps took them through the winding passageways, over the clanking metal walkway, onto the clicking tiles and the bright illumination. The system terminal was still a mess – slashed metal, shattered glass in the controls that hadn't quite been all dug out – but the technicians had been working in continuous shifts to restore it to useable functionality virtually since the moment the core had vanished. They had fully expected it to return – too many of them would lose their direction in the world if it was gone for good. They had to believe it would come back – and it had.
Luxord looked up, startled by the sudden influx. "Stand aside," DiZ said, a growl in his tone. "I will control the proceedings from here, until Naminé arrives." He sat himself in the master chair, spreading his robes neatly, focusing with hard determination on the screen. He began to rapidly type. Instantly in his element, the man quickly interfaced with the newly re-installed core, reconnecting threads between the system and its point of control. At one point, he grunted. Roxas smiled thinly. "I told you. We are one and the same."
"And what will happen to you when this occurs?" DiZ asked tersely, continuing to work quickly. "Am I to believe that you will simply submerge and be gone from Roxas? It isn't safe to have you within him. It is a constant security breach."
"I have no intention of staying within Roxas," Jenova responded. "It is not my place to remain. We are already aware of the unnatural situation this has become – we were aware from the beginning. It was not our choice to be mutated and kept within his tissue." She pursed her lips. "Remember, I have given many children before now. I have no reason to change."
"What can we expect?" the man demanded, the information crossing the screen in a barely legible stream.
"I will burn away," she said simply. "As I should have." Kadaj turned slightly, a fearful, questioning look in his eyes. She smiled. "Mother will be with you, though. We go together."
Naminé entered, with Demyx and Zexion following closely. The blonde girl froze at the sight of Roxas with Kadaj. "R-Roxas?" she stammered, wide-eyed.
Roxas smiled. "Hello, child."
Aerith shifted to her, held her shoulders. "It's okay," she said softly. "Things are going to be fine. We need your help, Naminé." Roxas' eyes sharpened, studying the brunette's movements.
DiZ turned, glared at Demyx and Zexion. "I had not intended this to become a circus attraction," he said crisply. "But now that you are here, you must stay." The chair swivelled, he faced the group. "Naminé, this man needs a new set of memories." He gestured curtly to the silver-haired soldier. "The core has been reinstated; use it to find all the data on him that is available, build him a life inside Twilight Town." His gaze was hard. "It must be flawless and foolproof. If he has even a single breach, it could utterly destroy his mind. I don't suppose I need to tell you how devastating that could be on those surrounding him."
If possible, the girl's eyes got rounder, pale eyebrows rising. "Um…" Aerith squeezed her.
"You were chosen because you can do it," she said softly. "It's going to be okay – you know this stuff, right, Naminé?"
"Mother knows you are capable," Roxas interjected, fixing Naminé with a steady look. "She has felt your touch on many occasions, wiping slates clean, remoulding as directed. You must recreate my new son Kadaj – you must make him happy."
The man clung to Roxas' hand, a bewildered, slightly trapped expression in place. Naminé stared, along with Demyx and Zexion. "You're… the core," Zexion realised faintly. Roxas smiled again, affectionate and gentle.
"Mother has missed your presence within the simulation." Her eyes switched to Naminé. "She misses all her children. She feels the space where they once stood, and breathed." Demyx surreptitiously wound a possessive arm around Zexion, a little fearful.
"Naminé," DiZ sighed, rubbing his fingertips at his forehead. "Hurry. This is no small matter, by any means." The girl hesitated, shifted over to the terminal, standing beside the chair, delicate hands hovering for a moment over the controls. She glanced over her shoulder at Kadaj, worried, before slowly turning back to the workstation. A slight falter of her fingers, and then they were quickly, precisely tapping away, golden hair swinging down past her shoulders, brushing her upper arms, blue eyes focused. A small crease appeared between her brows, concentration setting in. While she worked, DiZ once more faced the collective, grimly. "This never leaves this room, are we understood? We never laid eyes on the General's younger brother. Roxas was never gone from the castle, and neither were present when Vaan was shot." His eye found Kadaj, who stood mute through the speech, looking dazed. "The man was shot dead by his own brother. That is how it shall remain."
A murmured chorus of assent. Silence developed. Jenova absently stroked Kadaj's knuckles, shifting restlessly, small shivers occurring every now and then despite the sweat gradually slickening Roxas' face. "Is this going to take long?" Kadaj muttered. "I don't feel very well." Concerned, Jenova turned to him, cupped his face, smiled tightly.
"It won't be much longer, child. Then mother can take care of you properly. She will put you to bed until you are healthy again." His eyes found Roxas' slowly, studied them for a long moment.
"…Is Roxas going to be okay?"
Sad worry, an upward curve of the lips. "I'm sure your brother will be fine."
Kadaj frowned. "Then... he really is like Cloud. Both of them are like… brothers." Aerith stiffened across the room, something akin to anguish flashing through her eyes. Kadaj said no more, sank into himself, as Jenova lovingly picked the thin coat of dried blood from his face, making him flinch more often than not.
At last, Naminé's tapping slowed, sped up in one final burst, ceased. She straightened, brushing her hair to lie down her back, taking a deep breath and letting it free. She sounded abruptly exhausted. "There," she said, in her usual soft voice. "It's done." She turned, hands forming a nervous arch as her fingertips met. "I did the absolute – best that I could."
"Is it good enough?" DiZ demanded. She shot him a glance, grimaced, nodded after a moment.
"I believe so."
"Will it make him happy?" Jenova asked, a frown in place. "Will Kadaj have peace?"
Naminé took a breath. "When he passes through, into the system, his pre-existing memories will be buried under the new ones. They won't re-emerge, I'm certain of it. I've tied in new circumstances with the old, to fit them together… It should work." She shrugged helplessly. "That's all I can offer, really: it should work."
"It's good enough for now," DiZ growled. "You can improve on it later, seal his mind off properly. For now…" He flicked his gaze to the bedraggled pair. "It is time for this to happen. We have lingered enough as it is. Jenova:" She lifted Roxas' chin, the vaguest challenge in place. "You will control him, or he will be eliminated. Do not forget that you are not in sole control of Twilight Town – if I feel that either he, or you by association, is a danger to its occupants, I will take measures to correct the problem, make no mistake."
"I have already taken that into account," she replied coolly. "I am not willing for any of my children to be harmed. I will monitor Kadaj closely, I assure you, master. He needs as much of mother's love and attention as she can give." She put pressure on his hand, drawing his attention over. He smiled, confused, but with the same brilliance he had possessed in the throes of his madness. It was a beautiful, disturbed expression. Aerith closed her eyes briefly.
"Well, then," DiZ grunted. "Everyone, to the sides of the room." The gathered selection instantly shifted away, leaving Roxas and Kadaj by themselves in the centre. Jenova turned to the man, took his face in her hands, held him firmly.
"Mother will be waiting for you. She will not abandon Kadaj, not ever." Roxas' hand trailed slowly down his face. "Kadaj must stay in place, and be calm. You are going where the war-orphans go." She released him, stepped back towards the terminal, a smile in place, encouraging, concerned. She glanced down at DiZ, nodded slightly. "We are ready to depart."
DiZ didn't wait, started typing immediately. A blue light flickered to life in the centre of the broad circle on the back wall. It found Kadaj, scanned him briefly. DiZ grunted, engaged the core, and Roxas suddenly bucked. His head flung back, hands spasming wide, a deep gasp dragging into his lungs. Kadaj grew alarmed. "What's – "
Jenova fought, sent him a crazed, shaking smile. "I am required… to join the whole…" The blue light spread, became a grid, flashed and cemented the silver-haired man in place. Roxas bent over double, clutching his stomach with a low cry, strings of saliva descending from his wide-spread jaws. A pained whimper escaped him; he whispered, "Mother," and a moment later, collapsed to the tiles. No one moved to grab him, the danger of interrupting the insertion process holding them back, though all that stood leaned instinctively forward, fear and sympathy on their faces.
"Wh-what happened?" Kadaj demanded, still unable to move. The system was ready to insert him, but he clung to reality, locking himself in place. "Where did she go?" He started to breath heavily, distressed. "Mother?"
Aerith lowered her face, took a breath, shook her head. "Kadaj?" His eyes jerked toward her, filled with panic. She clamped her jaw, eyebrows drawn together, and gently said, "You don't have to hang on any longer." His eyes shimmered, lips shivered, a swallow taken.
"You – said…"
"Everyone's waiting, if you're ready," she added, eyes slipping shut. And there – that long crack in his soul, that broken quality, it was revealed plainly in his face, exposing him to them all. He was frozen in place, but his spirit moved, blackened in so many places, undulating uncertainly, caught between tainting the air and hiding away. Peace. He desired it, above all. His soul cried for it. He drew a split breath, shuddering, gaze shifting back to where Roxas lay crumpled. "Mother…"
The light sliced through him, broke him apart, shattered him and sucked him away, piece by miniscule piece into the network. Aerith started crying quietly, a hand rising to her face. The small blue light died away, and Kadaj, Sephiroth, everything to do with that part of Cloud's life, was gone. The brunette went to Roxas, bent at his side, took him into her arms and cradled him, and to Vincent, who had stood by the door the entire time, it was like entering the cabin all over again, watching a 'mother' hold her injured 'child', and want nothing more than to keep him safe.
He drew a breath, watched for a moment longer, then turned, shoes clicking quietly over the metal walkway, amber eyes darkened by tired lashes. He went to find Yuffie, to eat, and to sleep.
.o.O.o.
Roxas was lost in darkness. For a long time, his thoughts drifted, passing from one eddying stream to the next, never alighting for more than a moment or two before moving on. The world was comprised of black outer, glittering inner, and a fine slice between the two in which he resided. Slow, high noises sparkled in and out of being, drawing his attention from time to time, but more often than not, he would retreat from them, return to the oceans, the rivers, the gullies and brooks and expanse of space. He found himself searching, but he couldn't be sure of what. Years passed, decades, centuries, in which the feeling gnawed at him – something was missing, something was needed. He followed every trail his glowing feet touched, never quite able to cease seeking.
At long last, his toes touched white sand. He existed, like a shadow exists inside a pocket of nothingness, and stared out at the bright world. The sun was high, the air still but cool, and splashes of colour pitter-pattered from place to place. A happy noise filled the world – high, excited squealing. Roxas blinked, and the ghosts came into view, small, gleeful creatures, one with red hair and acid-green eyes, the other short, blond, chubby. They were happy together. They were… having fun.
A low bubble of laughter caught him, dragged his eyes over to where two young women sat on a low park bench, chatting, one eye forever kept upon their charges. One of them bounced a baby on her knee. The scene segued suddenly, Roxas found himself in a room, blue walls, old furniture. The same ghosts, the same situation, only different: the blond ghost had a boat. The boat was made of wood. The other boy, with his hair forced back into a tie, had a boat, too, different to the blond's, and he was attempting to show the the smaller how one could tug the other… And there were voices in the background, soft and feminine, and a baby was coughing out the first needy sounds of a cry…
A cool hand touched his forehead, just as one of the voices whispered in his memory. His lips parted, he murmured, "Mom?"
"Roxas, it's time to wake up."
He opened his eyes, hoarsely repeated, "Mom?" She smiled, was gone, was never there in the first place, except… he could still picture her. Could picture the room, and the playground, and the women, and the baby. He could… he remembered… It was brief, it was only a snatch, but – he thought he could still hear Kairi crying, and Axel instructing him on how to join the boats together. He could… he could see his thick, clumsy fingers struggling. And… he wasn't entirely sure, couldn't say for certain, but – he thought he remembered that little red-haired boy eventually taking the boat away, hooking the two together for him, and graciously handing them back… Axel had been – a good friend.
A low, steady beeping drew the fog away from the world. Roxas' head turned sideways, slowly, noting with only a small amount of surprise the machine beside the bed. His fingers twitched, chest swelling with the first deep breath he'd drawn in days. He blinked sleepily, and stared at the machine regulating the fluid into his body, another beside it focused on his temperature, another next to that concentrating on his heart-rate. There was a needle in his arm, a clamp on his fingertip, an obstruction when he swallowed. He screwed up his face, let out a small, baffled noise, reached one hand carefully up and felt the slender tube taped to his nose, leading up into his nasal cavity, curling down into his stomach. It was uncomfortable, stung. He didn't like it, but left it alone, hand drifting back down onto the sheet. He blinked for a while, in a haze, before realising that he hadn't yet found what he'd been looking for. It was still there – that nagging desire for something out of reach, something he needed, but couldn't touch.
It really didn't take too long to figure out what that something was. He could only wonder at the fact that he hadn't known sooner, had spent all those millennia hunting, when a mere ten minutes in the real world brought his answer so clearly.
He sat carefully, feeling tightness around his middle, bandages wrapped firm. It was echoed in his right thigh, reminding him vaguely of all the ills his body had endured. He felt weak, but stronger than he last remembered being. It was easier, this time, to unpeel the sheets, to twist and then stand. He took hold of the tube in his nose, gagged as it scraped up through his throat, left it leaking on the bed. Next to go was the connection to the IV, the latch clumsily undone, a dose of his blood rushing to fill the small canister connected to the needle still snugly splinted to his arm. A beep sounded, a measure of liquid pumping out onto the floor with a trickling noise. Roxas stared at his heart-monitor, eyes following its power cord to the wall. He leaned past the machines, wrapped his hand around the plug, and tugged. When he then removed the clamp from his finger, no alarm sounded. There was nothing to realise that, according to the data, his heart had just ceased beating.
He staggered to the door, head swimming, clutched the frame and rested against it, but again, it wasn't so hard this time. Perhaps the pain was less, or maybe Roxas had just got… used to it. He opened the door cautiously, exited into the hallway, blinking at the dim lights illuminating every few feet of ground at this late hour, allowing the nurses to see on their rounds.
Aerith was waiting for him. Roxas gasped, choked a little, fell faintly against the wall as she stood from the hard orange chair that had been set up outside his room in the hallway. She folded shut the book she had been holding, tucked it against her side. "They said you'd wake up sometime today," she said softly, before Roxas could attempt to gather what little wits were present in order to offer some kind of communication. "So I thought I'd hang around for a while. I've spent enough time here lately to be used to it." There was silence between them, Roxas' poor, sleep-addled brain swirling, the fact that she was even here enough to confuse him into helplessness. Aerith, however, seemed to be waiting for him to speak. At last, he managed to utter, "Axel."
She nodded, crossed her wrists over her skirt. "He's in another part of the hospital." She smiled sadly. "I'll take you to him, if you'd like. It's why I stayed." Roxas could only nod. She hooked an arm through his, led his limping, hobbling form down the long hallway, crossing into another, finding his old room from the last time he'd been a patient, her shoes clicking, his feet soundless. They stopped, she let him go, drew a breath and gradually released. "Well, here you are. I'll be waiting outside, in case a nurse comes. Their rounds don't repeat for a little while though." She swallowed, eyes finding him in the darkness. "…Roxas?"
He struggled. "Yes – Aerith?"
"…It's – it's going to be okay, now. No one's going to hurt you anymore."
He was slow to follow, but eventually nodded. "I know… All the bad people are gone." When nothing more was said, he turned the handle, entered the redhead's room. Aerith drew it shut behind him, when he simply shuffled forward. He approached the bed, gazed down at the figure beneath the sheets. Blue eyes travelled to the bulky section where the man's leg had been put back together, was being held tightly in place. The blond inhaled slowly, sighed quietly. He went around to the other side of the bed, climbed slowly in beside the figure, movements stiff, wanting little more than to just fall asleep all over again. As he carefully burrowed into Axel's side, he felt the redhead stir. Roxas stilled, waited with full, fluttering lungs, but the man didn't waken. Too full of chemical, he merely drifted back away from the surface of consciousness. The teen relaxed. He adjusted his position, grunting lightly at the spines of pain that sparked from time to time, but he had felt it all before, was drugged himself, nerve-endings being soothed by little, injected voices that told them everything was fine.
Roxas settled with his head on Axel's shoulder, and spent the next several, sleepy minutes studying him. It didn't pay to think about what had happened, what would come, what almost prevented this, what could have killed them both. Instead, he lifted one hand, brushed a few vibrant strands away from the closed eyes, pressed the pads of his fingers to Axel's jaw, and tilted his face towards him. Again, for a little while, he just stared, watched. Then, he placed a kiss upon the slumbering lips.
There was no fairy-tale ending to all this. The badly injured redhead didn't flicker into waking, called by his beloved's tender mouth – he slept on, as his body would have him do, even if his heart, given the choice, would have had another scenario play out.
It wasn't long before Roxas' own body followed suit, his mind slipping away as his eyes fell shut. It didn't matter that Axel didn't see him yet. When he eventually woke up, he would, and for once, all would be right with the world.
