Pairings: LexZex, DemZex

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts.

Warnings: Insinuated yaoi. Mild language. Violence.

Edited: 8/21/2011

Demyx, his roommate, was there when he awoke.

The man held a sleek silver plaque in his hands, expression one of boredom. Zexion assumed that the faded square on the wall across from him was where the plaque had once resided, and Demyx, in his curiosity, could not resist taking it down. The blond had a way of musing aloud, and even as he thought it, Demyx began to grumble,"I don't care how many credentials this Vexen guy has, he looks like a pedophile..." Zexion couldn't help but chuckle.

"You say that about every doctor you come across. And dentists, as well. Actually, you say that about everyone."

"I can't help that people have strange tastes, Zexion. I can only point it out and shudder to think that maybe, just maybe, I too will someday accommodate an incredibly disturbing fetish."

Zexion chuckled, head shaking slightly, then settled into silence, tongue heavy in his mouth as he wriggled further into his bed. Demyx was just as quiet, hands on his hips as he looked at everything but the slate-haired teenager, and Zexion couldn't help but wonder why he'd come to see him in the first place if he was going to act this way. He assumed the blond was there to fuss over him as he usually did, what with his rambunctious personality and his need to make everyone in the immediate area smile. But today the man seemed despondent, as if something that had been plaguing his mind for quite a while had finally bubbled to the surface and refused to bob back down.

When a nurse came in to drop off a small plastic cup and two pills, Demyx ran his hands through his hair, face pale as the lilac-haired teen downed the meds and the water, then thanked the nurse. The moment she was out the door, Demyx cleared his throat, scratching the tip of his nose idly.

"So... I heard about what you did... yesterday, you know?"

"Word travels fast in small towns."

It was safe to say that he was definitely unsurprised. He'd known it would get out, that his condition would be made known and all the residents of Twilight Town would begin to pat their pockets as he walked by. To clutch purses and bags alike closer, assuring the contents stayed safely intact.

Demyx hummed a low note in his throat, lips forming words, but Zexion spoke first.

"Listen, if you're here tell me off, or to give me some bullshit about how I should've told you about my... my condition, then forget it. I couldn't and wouldn't tell you even if you wanted me to."

"I'm not here for that." Demyx mumbled, looking strangely defeated, and perhaps even a little embarrassed. Zexion eyes narrowed coolly.

"Then what exactly are you here for? As far as I know I'm not even supposed to have visitors. What is it you want, Demyx? What's so important to you that you come here not twenty-four hours after my assault?"

"I'm revoking my invitation."

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees; subconsciously, Zexion pulled his thin sheets closer, face carefully neutral.

"Revoking your invitation? To your... to your house, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Zexion growled, utterly confused and hurt that his roommate, his best friend, would even consider it. He thought that people were supposed to be supporting, comforting, in times like this, but no, this was all wrong, this was -

Blood pressure rising, pulse ascending, Zexion clenched his hands into tiny little fists, fully aware that Demyx knew exactly how much this was affecting him. The incessant beeping from the monitor beside his bed was condeming him quite effectively, and Demyx took note of it with the slightest glance, resolve firm and unyiedling.

"Listen Zexion, I'm sorry, but I can't have some... some... thief... holing up in my house! I mean, I can't house a guy that's going to go out and steal a bunch of shit, then come running home with a bunch of cops on his ass! And that's exactly what you were planning on doing last night, don't you even deny it, Zexion!"

"Demyx, listen to yourself!" Zexion pleaded, his sanity waning, anger rising; this was his friend he was speaking to, his friend who was accusing him in such a way that made him sound far worse than he actually was. "It's not like I'm out stealing people's hearts or bars of gold! Little things, Demyx, little things! Utensils left on trays, maybe a book of two from the library, a newspaper from the general store, but nothing big!"

"Then what was last night, huh?" Demyx nearly shouted. "You stole the very symbol of the town! You stole government rank documents! That makes you a criminal, Zexion."

"I couldn't help myself, Demyx. I'm a Kleptomaniac, I can't control it!"

"Then you should have warned someone." Demyx murmured, carding a hand through his mussed up hair.

"You should have told me."

"I couldn't, Demyx."

His roommate let out a shaky breath, eyes closing in frustration as he fell silent. Zexion took the opportunity to turn the tables in his favor, even if the point he was planning on making was completely unrelated. If it would work...

"You told me you loved me once." He started, and when Demyx let out another shuddering breath, he almost felt guilty for manipulating his friend in such a way. "You loved me, and I loved you. And back then, that was all we needed."

"That was back in high school, Zexion. We were children."

"It only ended last year. We're not children anymore."

"I've already told you that I can't do it again. I can't deal with your... your..."

"Frigidness. That's the word you used to use, if I remember correctly."

"Exactly." Demyx, who had decided this conversation was a draining and lengthy one, drew a chair from the corner and plopped down in it. As he hunched over, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, Zexion realized that only a few hours ago it had been Lexaeus' hulking figure occupying that chair.

"Yeah, you're a frigid person, Zexion. And for the two of us there is no future. I've already done so much for you, can't you see that? I promised you friendship despite the fact that I always wanted more, I let you stay with me even after things were broken off, even afterSaïxand I..." He backtracked, willed the thought away as if it was a very painful one and continued on. "I just can't have you in my house anymore, it's too much for me to handle and that's that."

Zexion's anger spiked. "So this isn't about my condition at all, is it? You just want me gone so you can have Saïx over instead!"

"This has nothing to do with him." Demyx said calmly. "You're a thief and I have no way of telling if you're going to lie about something as big as your condition again or not. So once you get all of... of..." He gestured with his hands at the room they were in and the word he was looking for seemed to fail him. "When you're better and this mess has blown over, come on out and pick up your stuff. I'm sure you can find another guy to bunk with until you find a place."

"What are you insinuating?" Zexion howled, his body shooting up. He reached for Demyx and found his collar, yanked him, wide-eyed, up onto the hospital bed. "I'm not some cheap slut! I can afford a place of my own if I want to, and I don't need anyone's help to do so!"

"Then why are you so worked up over all of this?" Demyx shouted back. His hands were bone white, gripping Zexion's wrists until his too were pale and bloodless. "Get yourself together, get out of my house, and move on with your life because we're through!"

A nurse poked her head through the door, obviously attracted by the noise. Her eyes were wide with fear, and when Zexion pulled his hand back, made a fist, and popped Demyx in the eye, she fled from the room, voice echoing down the hall in a call for help.

By the time an orderly and a doctor had made their way back to the fight, Demyx and Zexion had fallen to the floor, the lilac-haired man fisting Demyx's dirty blond hair in his hand as he repeatedly smashed the other teen's face. Demyx, who was shouting obscenities, had his fists aimed at Zexion's hollowed stomach, his legs kicking thin shin bones whenever he could. Zexion was howling as blinding pain washed over him, knees aching agonizingly, but he clung to Demyx regardless, doing as much damage as he could with his blunt fingernails and thin fingers.

They rolled about in the floor, growling like animals, and the doctor, who had nothing on him but a stethoscope and an empty needle, hesitated before jumping into the fray. There was a struggle between the three of them, and at one point they seemed to find him just as much of an enemy as themselves. The orderly was forced to join in as the doctor began to howl in pain, red lines flowing down his cheeks as Zexion scratched him as well. He seized the blond by the calf, yanking him away from the much smaller man in the floor and the furious doctor. The effect was immediate, the blond quieting as he panted for air, and the doctor sighed, hand over his heart as he stood, grasping the edge of the bed for balance.

But the lilac-haired teen on the floor was glaring daggers, voice a raspy growl as he whispered, "Your house is shit anyway. Ever heard of a vacuum, you moron?"

And while the doctor had begun to relax, he was forced to grab hold of the furious blond once more as he threw himself at the teen on the floor, the orderly howling in pain as he held his nose. Blood gushed out from between his fingers, and the doctor couldn't contain the cries for help spewing from his lips.

The nurse was long gone, legs carrying her down the hall as she fled.

The doctor, whose golden name tag flickered in the light, read Dr. Vexen, finally managed to haul Demyx away before he could do any more damage than he'd already done. They were halfway to the door when the man squirmed in his arms, turned his head back towards the tiny creature in the floor and shouted, "Forget all your stuff Zexion! I was even going to be nice and pack it up for you but you can forget that now! I bet the Pawn Shop will love all those books!"

"No!" Zexion's voice was filled with anguish, the last dying cry of an animal backed into a corner. A creature with the enemies teeth at its throat. Zexion continued to howl at the retreating pair, tears spilling over his lashes and onto his cheeks. Demyx couldn't, wouldn't, get rid of his books. He knew what those meant to him! But he had to make sure, he had to, so he stood, ambled past the orderly in a drunken, painful daze, hands extending for the doctor and his best friend, ex lover, his roommate, Demyx.

They were leaving fast though, and the doctor was shaking Demyx by the shoulders, shoving him forward as he said, "Close your mouth, you heathen! Out, out with you, this is a hospital for God's sake!"

They hustled out the door, closing it firmly shut, and Zexion was left to fall before it, cheek sliding down it as he fell to the floor. He cried in pain and terror, fearing for the loss of the only things that made him feel anything anymore. The only things that carried him away, cradled him from the things he feared, from the creatures he hated.

His books. His lifeline.

"Don't you sell them, Demyx! Don't you sell them! I'll never forgive you if you do!"

The orderly, hands soaked with blood, dashed to the cabinets in the corner of the room, hands feeling for a key in his scrub pocket. He seized it, nearly dropping it a few times, then shoved it into the keyhole.

Inside was a various array of needles and concoctions, and he reached for them without thinking. The man against the door continued to sob, shoulders straining with the effort. It sounded to the orderly like the sobbing of a madman, and when he'd finally prepared a needle, he darted to the door and wrapped his free arm around the lilac-haired teen's middle, pulling him away from the door and shoving him face first to the tiled floor. The teen struggled, still crying senselessly as he shouted and screamed.

The orderly wasted no time in sticking him with the needle.

Zexion finally went slack, and save for a final, heart-wrenching sob, stayed quiet.

Sighing, the orderly tucked him back into bed and backed up to the door.

He left the room as quickly as possible.

Lexaeus had always known that his friendship with Axel would pay off one day.

Admittedly, the red head was a pure-hearted soul, but annoying as hell, and while it had been a battle every step of the way, today it finally proved worthwhile.

After detaining the startlingly intelligent Zexion last night, Lexaeus had immediately been intrigued by his story.

A Kleptomaniac; it wasn't often you met one. Not a true one, at least.

He'd promised himself he'd help the tiny man, but for what reason and on what principle, he still wasn't sure. He'd told himself over and over that it was only because he'd dealt with Axel for so long; Axel, who was a Pyromaniac to the fullest extent. Axel, who would surely understand Zexion just as much as Lexaeus was trying to as well.

It was this connection and this understanding that had compelled him to help the teen out of the fix he'd drawn himself into.

The book they'd gotten off his figure had been the town's Lexicon, an icon of Twilight Town that spoke of events unknown to the typical civilian, unknown crimes and people and villains...

He himself knew little of it, but it wasn't something someone would want to be caught stealing, that was for sure.

Amazingly enough, though, he'd still managed to get a pardon of sorts for the mysterious Zexion. The polite and very intriguing, Zexion.

So as he'd sat in traffic, engine idling as he waited for the light to turn green, Lexaeus smiled. The pardon had conditions. And somehow he knew, just knew, that Zexion wasn't going to like them. But it would give them the opportunity to work together, and somehow Lexaeus knew that something great was to come of it all.

A few hours later he was entering the heavily air conditioned lobby of Twilight Town's one and only hospital, a towering giant amidst all the other buildings here. He ambled over to the counter at the edge of the room, maneuvering his way through aisles of chairs and stools. The nurse looked up at him nervously, asked him his name, then handed him a sheaf of paper.

Forms, and God, how he hated paperwork...

Ten minutes later he was on the 34th floor of the hospital, leather boots echoing on the white-washed walls as he made his way to room 309. Inside he would find Zexion and the esteemed Dr. Vexen, or so he'd been told.

Inside he would relay what the head chief had told him, and furthermore, what the judge he'd visited had decided.

'304, 305, 306...'He counted the doors as he passed them, slightly nervous. He wanted to be on good terms with Zexion, and while it was unclear as to why he was so strongly drawn to the man already, he was happy to go along with it.

When room 309 came into view, he stopped before it and listened briefly. Inside came the sound of a steady murmur, a voice all its own that seemed to be musing to itself. Lexaeus straightened his coat, tried to settle his unruly hair and failed, then knocked three times on the door.

"Come in." Came the same voice he'd heard before. He reached for the handle and turned it, poked his head inside.

Zexion lay quiet on the bed, chest rising and falling evenly. His face, Lexaeus noted with disapproval, was scratched and bruised. He couldn't remember it looking that way the day before, and the first words out of his mouth as he stepped into the room was, "What happened to him?"

"Good afternoon to you, too." The doctor grumbled. His pale skin was nearly translucent under the glow of the fluorescent lights, and Lexaeus strained to read the tag on his breast. This man was Dr. Vexen. Lexaeus frowned.

"Afternoon, Dr. Vexen, do pardon my rudeness. Tell me though, what happened to him?"

The doctor sighed, flipping a page on his clipboard as he said almost too casually, "He was in a scuffle with his roommate this morning. A Mr. Demyx something or another, as I was informed. Don't worry about anything. He was quickly... escorted... from the premises."

"Not quickly enough by the look of those scratches."

"..."

Lexaeus strode across the room and leaned over the bed, eyes taking in the purple swells on Zexion's cheeks. It was a shame, he thought, that such a thing marred a face so pale and sweetly peaceful.

"Would you like me to wake him?" The doctor asked him, looking completely bored as he ambled to the other side of the bed. In his hand was a cocked needle, fully ready to diffuse should the officer give the okay. Lexaeus stilled the man with a hand held aloft.

"I have questions for only you, first. Then we'll wake him."

In a wave of consciousness, Zexion could hear the words, faint and just barely distinguishable, "We can't trust him one his own. I think the incident this morning proved that. Does he have any family?"

"No. I had someone look into it and he's the last of his surname. The roommate was the one he'd been living with. And now, well, it looks like he's back to being all on his own."

"No others friends?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"A pity... he looks so peaceful right now..."

'One of those voices... I know that voice... Lex...'

He faded out again.

"Can you hear me, Zexion?"

"Unfortunately."

"Good to see the fight didn't ruin his sense of humor."

Zexion, whose eyes had otherwise been clenched closed, sat up in bed, eyes pinning the officer to the spot. He was angry for some reason, but couldn't remember why. The time he'd spent in the hospital was all blurring together, and his memories began to muddle. But Lexaeus had said something about a fight?

"How long was I out?" He settled for asking, and when the doctor held up three fingers and mumbled something about hours, he sighed. Some decent doctors they had here. The man couldn't even be bothered to lift his eyes from the clipboard in his hands, and Zexion wondered briefly if there wasn't a dirty magazine pinned there.

Lexaeus cleared his throat.

"Zexion, have you had time to think over what you did?"

The lilac-haired man thought about it, hand finding his chin. He scratched at it, grumbled to himself, then said, "I believe I have. I, the naughty child, have finished my time in the corner, if I do say so myself. Have you managed to convince some people in higher places, Mr. Lexaeus?"

"I have indeed." The burly man said, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a grin. "You've been pardoned by the great mayor Ansem himself."

A great sigh of relief left him, hand finding his heart. It was over, it was all over.

He remembered then the fight with Demyx, a swirling vortex of acidic tasting memories. His eyes swam, but he held back tears and tried to look at least somewhat thrilled.

"That's good. I can go home then, move on, you know?"

He tried to push back the covers and found his hands were shaking too hard to do so. His knees ached, his head pulsed.

The doctor obviously hadn't given him any medicine.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and when he looked up into the rugged face of the officer that had taken his freedom and then given it back, he found the expression there to be unsure.

"There are... conditions."

Zexion paused, taking this revelation in stride. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like them?"

Lexaeus smiled grimly. "Because you won't."

"Then just give it to me bluntly. Don't sugarcoat it."

Pausing, Lexaeus found the creepy doctor Vexen to be staring up at him, looking just as curious as Zexion. He scratched his neck, palms sweating. How to word it?

"Well, in short... You and I will be seeing quite a lot of one another for the next month or two."

"No, don't tell me," Zexion began, a look of stricken panic taking over his face. "You're not going to be following me around or something, are you?"

He thought of how the next few weeks would be if his guess was right. Trying to picture Lexaeus sitting behind him in class, or pushing his shopping cart, Zexion couldn't help but feel a little sick. He hated that his privacy was about to be invaded in such a personal way, and at the moment he absolutely loathed the cop before him, freedom or not.

But Lexaeus didn't look done. In fact, his expression only darkened.

"You're only... slightly right. You see, you're being place under house arrest. But since you don't have your own home, well..." He looked to Dr. Vexen for help, but the blond only shrugged.

Lexaeus groaned inwardly.

"You'll be staying with me, in my home and everywhere I go, for the next sixty days."