This one took a while, sorry. There's some more explicit violence at the end of the chapter.

"No…I…"

Unable to understand what was going on, Ventus tried to find something to cling onto, eventually grabbing the hand that was still lying on his shoulder. One of them was shaking, or maybe it was them both, he didn't know, and he didn't understand anything.

"How could I ever…"

"You seem to remember."

He nodded, although not sure if that was really true. It was like the bigger picture of his past had returned, but no further details regarding it.

"How could you keep this from me?!"

His confusion turned into anger. Had all of this hostility and pain really been necessary, instead of just letting him in on what had happened? He wanted to understand, to be able to fathom how not knowing a thing had been a benefit to any of them.

"For what? You didn't even remember my name when I threw it at you. You wouldn't have believed a single thing."

"I remembered now!"

Although it was true that he didn't know why he was able to remember things suddenly. Thinking about it, though, he had simply cast away the thought of Vanitas being his enemy, and that made it a lot easier to accept truths that he would have discarded as lies before.

Of course it still left a million of unanswered questions, and raised even more on top. Why were they in this situation, how had they lost track of each other, and how had they even survived the annihilation of a whole town?

Instead of any answers, the look Vanitas gave him made things even worse, because through it, Ventus realized…

He had forgotten all these things. About their past and whatever terrible event had torn them apart. Even now, it were only bits and pieces that returned to him.

But Vanitas hadn't forgotten any of it. He'd been living on, knowing Ventus didn't remember a single thing. And he'd kept it to himself for who-knew how long.

"I'm sorry…," he found himself mumbling and looked down to his crossed legs. Of course he still lacked the explanation for what was going on, but the fact that Vanitas had taken the time to find him and apparently keep him at least partly safe from some other people…it was enough to make him feel very bad.

"You said they obliterated the town. How could we possibly have survived that?"

"We were…well, I'll just say lucky enough to be a little out of town. Maybe we're not the sole survivors, but I never managed to find anyone else – and I did find you."

It sounded like Vanitas was actually somewhat proud of that, and it made Ventus wonder how long he had actually been trying to find him before being successful.

"My head hurts trying to figure things out. I remember you working on that rusty old camera everyday, and that I always wondered if you even had a home."

"I just preferred being outside."

"You've changed a lot."

That wasn't really an answer to the statement, but more an overall observation. Now, of course Vanitas had changed – he wasn't a kid anymore, and instead a grown-up man. But what was it that had changed him into who he was now, opposed to a kid spending their time trying to get a simple thing like a camera to work?

"I mean, other than growing up. What happened, how and why didn't they catch us?"

"They caught us."

"But?"

Ventus was confused by the statement. If that was true, why were they here now? He doubted that he out of all people would have been able to flee from a kidnapper.

"Can we skip these hero-esque stories?"

Even though he got a general idea where this was going, he wanted to hear it. Narrowing his eyes, he waited, unwilling to let the topic drop.

"You managed to flee, end of the story."

"Oh? What about you, then?"

Vanitas gave him a very annoyed look before turning his head away. Maybe that was answer enough to it. If they'd been together, and only one of them had gotten away…

Deciding to drop the topic for now, Ventus went on to the next.

"Fine. What about my parents? Child-me runs away from kidnappers, winds up in a big city and gets adopted by a loving family? That's a bit cliché, I feel."

"Hard to say, but what else would they do? If they managed to let you forget the memories in the course of therapies, it's highly possible."

Therapy.

He had been going to therapy as a young teenager, but that had been because of his inability to sit still and concentrate on things. There were definitely no memories of anything else, although he also didn't know how old he had been back then.

"Still, no one ever mentioned anything, ever. I was raised to believe I was just some random city kid. What about the people who were after us?"

"I'm not telling you any details."

Sighing, Ventus hung his head. Wasn't there a way to prove that he would keep these things to himself? After all, he never left his apartment anyway lately, and he also didn't call anyone.

"Why don't you trust me?"

"I do. At least try to understand it, Ven. There's only so much anyone can take before spilling the information they have."

He angrily shook his head.

"Oh, what?! Just try and force me to tell you things I don't want to! I'm a lot more stubborn than you think, and I deserve some sort of truth here!"

He tried to calm himself down by shutting up, but it helped nothing. It wasn't exactly madness that was flooding him, but honest despair and the fear of having to be in this situation forever without finding out why.

Without giving him a chance to fight back, Vanitas suddenly grabbed him by the collar and pushed him into lying position, only to sit down on his hips and give him a fairly creepy, murderous look. But that was what Ventus had asked for, right? Rather indirectly, but still. He wasn't backing down now.

"You have absolutely no clue what you're saying," he was told and found himself laughing bitterly at it.

"You're so right. Because having no clue about things seems to be what I'm best at anyway, right? Don't think I'm taking my words back."

They both fell silent and stared at each other. It gave Ventus time to yet again study the long scar on Vanitas's neck, and right now, it scared him more than ever. How old was it actually, and what or who had caused it back then? Part of him wanted to know, and at the same time, he thought that the answer might be unbearable.

He tried not to expect anything bad when one hand slowly caressed his cheek, but this was Vanitas after all, and hardly anything about him was not scary. But when he spoke, it actually made it seem like the action was genuine.

"I'm not proud to admit it, but…I doubt I could do that."

Surprised about that, Ventus raised an eyebrow. Couldn't do what? Torture him? That was weird, considering in small amounts, it had already happened.

"Why not? It'd be a means to an end and you kind of already did it."

"Are you honestly comparing a few cuts to how far I would have to go? You really are an idiot."

"Oh, so now you're telling me you have scruples?"

Provocation usually seemed to be the way to make Vanitas tick, although Ventus never would have thought that he would actually aim for that ever. This time however, it didn't work, as Vanitas just rolled his eyes at him.

"I'm not doing it, and that's that."

If that was so, Ventus decided, he was done here as well, and he started trying to push Vanitas off of himself – a for effort, but failing miserably. Not only was their power gap ridiculous, but their respective positions made that even worse.

"Give up. You're well aware I'm stronger."

"Get off me! Where's the sense in talking to you if you won't talk to me?! I'm sick of you and I'm sick of all of this! Let me leave!"

"So you can get other people in danger as well? See, that's why I can't let you in on this. You're driven by instinct and that's incredibly dangerous."

Ventus immediately stopped fighting and blinked multiple times, trying to understand the words. As if it made any kind of difference how he acted. He heavily doubted that he would get any more information by acting less emotionally about these things.

"Just give me…something. I'm not even asking any detail on what's going on, just a basic, you know…concept of this horror."

So far, all he knew was that they had apparently survived the annihilation of a city. That probably meant that the threats he had gotten recently were directly tied to that. But why? Did it really matter if two of those people were still alive?

"Well, regarding the people after us…as I mentioned earlier, press called it out as a terrorist attack. But truth be told, our home was right in the center of a huge potential industrial area."

It took a moment, but when Ventus understood what that meant, he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening.

"Are you telling me there's some serious high-up companies after this? But…wait. Did they just let it happen, or are they actually behind it?!"

"It was more like…a deal. Imagine you're the head of an organization that specializes on child trafficking, and you see newspaper reports of discussions about depopulating a town, with the inhabitants fighting against their own deportation vehemently. And then you get the chance to have a nice talk with one of the companies who's very desperate to get their project to work."

It was left as only half an explanation, but it was more than enough for Ventus to understand. Whoever was behind the child trafficking had offered to wipe the town from existence, probably under the condition of some sort of immunity.

"That's sick," was all he managed to say before flinching heavily – and realizing that Vanitas had done so, as well – because there was someone loudly knocking on the door.

"Are you expecting someone?"

"No."

The question was clearly rhetoric anyway, and Vanitas had already gotten up before waiting for the answer.

"It…might just be a neighbor?" Ventus suggested lightly, although he wasn't sure if he believed that. They hadn't been loud or anything, so there was no reason to angrily knock like that all out of sudden.

"Possibly. Either way, no word until I say so. You hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

He sat back up, honestly starting to hope it really was just a neighbor. Needless to say, his hopes were crushed within mere seconds by loud noise coming from the hall. It took only a few seconds before Vanitas re-entered the room, dragging something…no, someone along.

It was a young man, probably only a few years older than them, and he was knocked unconscious. The first detail Ventus noticed was a badge on the man's jacket – the same kind of raven Vanitas had shown him before.

"I am actually mildly surprised they suddenly go so far – and in such obviously dumb ways. I wonder if you're just testing me."

Ventus almost replied something, before remembering he had been told not to and realizing that Vanitas was talking to himself entirely. So instead, he found himself watching as the man was positioned on a chair Vanitas had brought from the kitchen, and tied onto it. That wasn't exactly the view Ventus dreamed to have right in front of his TV, but he wouldn't dare say a word, so he waited while Vanitas checked the man for – whatever, really.

"He's clean, I suppose. I was sure he'd have some sort of, you know, microphone or something, but there's nothing that wouldn't be too concealed to be able to record. So, what do you think?"

The question meant nothing to Ventus. What had they been talking about before this? He couldn't remember it being something that would even need to be answered right now, so he just shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

"I meant what you think I should do with him as soon as he comes to. You know…in order to get out of him what I want."

That was when it hit him. Vanitas wasn't even mad about this guy showing up right now, because it gave him an opportunity to showcase what he had just stated. And the way he was standing there, smirking a little as if this was an act about to open up for an audience…it was scary. He was scary. And Ventus shivered at the sight.

"I…," he started slowly, waiting to be shut down because there had been no direct signal he was supposed to talk again, but nothing happened, so he went on. "You don't really want me to answer that."

It was an easy way out for him, and he didn't even feel bad about it. He didn't want to think of anything that could be done to a person in order to get answers out of them. Of course there were some basic things even he was aware that people could do to torture someone. But that didn't mean he wanted to dive into these thoughts.

"You seemed so incredibly eager on it, didn't you? How about I extend your horizon?"

He wanted to say how about no but instead didn't answer at all and tried his best to not look at the man he noticed coming to slowly. He tried to move a bit, realized he was tied up and started fighting against it, obviously without much effort. The only thing he ended up doing was knock the chair and himself over, effectively landing on his face.

"What a splendid idea. I could have come up with this," Vanitas mumbled eerily, seemingly not planning to pick the chair back up yet.

"So, what brings you here? Naivety? Courage? Dumbness?"

"I ain't telling you anything, you piece of shit," the man replied loudly and with a strong accent, even though it was a bit muffled by him talking into the carpet. Instead of getting mad about the insult, Vanitas laughed evilly before finally setting the chair upright, only to lunge and break the guys nose in one heavy swing, making him spit a tooth and blood.

"Not the answer I expected, but that explains everything. It's really too bad for you that I'm in quite the need for an idiot like you. And that you catch me in such a foul mood."

Ventus held back a disgusted snicker. It was not like Vanitas ever seemed to be in a very good mood, but him downright saying that he was in a bad one...this was going to be terrible.

"Is he really worth dirtying your hands?" Ventus asked instead, trying to talk some sense into this cruel insanity, even though he knew he was partly responsible for it. Still, this wasn't what he wanted, at all. There was no point to this.

"You're a genius," Vanitas replied, his eyes widening a bit before he turned around and went to grab something from the cubby. Somehow, that made things even worse, and when he came back, there was no doubt about why.

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, you did. You just don't know it yet."

He was sloppily turning a hammer in his right hand, and put a small box as well as some tape on the table. Ventus didn't even have to look to know that there were nails in that box. And he only noticed that the man on the chair had started screaming when suddenly it was shut down by his mouth being taped shut.

"Ah, much better. I prefer my victims crying silently, their eyes begging for mercy they know they aren't getting, you know?"

Even though the words weren't directed at him, Ventus felt like running away. And he noticed that the man did, too. There was no logical reason to feel bad for him, but the way he was sitting there, his eyes getting wet with the realization that he was nothing here – maybe some sort of bait; there had to be some reason he had made his way to them – and that not only he wasn't getting out of this alive, but there wasn't even any kind of mercy in Vanitas's words that implied him dying painlessly…

It was disgusting to even just watch, no matter if he was a bad person or not.

"How fortunate," Vanitas went on, now finally picking some of the nails from the box, causing Ventus to finally look away and focus on anything but this scenario. "That you're not even interesting enough for the whole procedure. So, which finger would you like me to start with?"

There was something in his voice, not amusement or joy, but still fairly similar, and Ventus begged he would just shut up. That, he figured, was part of the reason Vanitas didn't. It was part of the torture.

"Oh, I almost forgot you can't reply!"

He obviously hadn't, and that made the statement so much worse. Ventus didn't want to look, but it was like a bad accident. He looked away, then back to Vanitas, who was half-kneeling and grinning like a madman, looking like he had almost forgotten he wasn't alone.

"I'll just pick one then."

And without further ado, he placed one of the nails over the man's index finder on the armrest and, with one heavy hit, nailed it down into the wood. He seemed to know where to hit in order to avoid hitting a bone so it would be a smoother movement. It still made a horrible sound, and the victim visibly tried to flee in some way, tears now running down his cheeks.

Ventus reached out without even knowing why. He wanted this to stop, no matter how much he'd said he could take it. It wasn't true, and he was an idiot.

"Huh?"

Snapping out of it, Vanitas looked over to him, the grin fading and his eyes narrowing in concern.

"You are aware that this is hardly even the beginning."

It wasn't a question, but Ventus still nodded, finally lowering his head. He wanted to cover his ears and close his eyes to shut it all out, even though he knew it wouldn't help. Even though this whole scenario had already been real before, now it was even more painfully so.

"And now, say," Vanitas had stopped in his actions and casually sat down on the sofa. "How you can possibly expect me to do this to you."

Hurt.

This was what he was radiating, other than insanity.

"You don't seem to mind to much," Ventus explained silently, although he knew that wasn't a fair thing to say. This man…he meant nothing to Vanitas. He was barely more than dirt in his eyes, especially since he had tried to hurt them first.

"I don't. I would torture and slaughter this worthless excuse for a human without a second thought any day. But you know it's entirely different with you."

Ventus nodded, still without looking up. He was feeling sick, and wishing that he could just wake up from this way too real nightmare.

"Go."

And he did, although it was more running. He didn't even have the time to apologize for what he had said, but hoped that his reaction was obvious enough about it. Maybe, he figured right before vomiting his soul out, he didn't actually want to know all of this that much.