Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts does not belong to me.

Warnings: Yaoi.

Edited: 8/21/2011

They released him two days later, calm and collected, all traces of bruising and dementia gone. The nurse that had been tending him was the one to wheel him from the hospital, and when they reached the large overhang bordering the parking lot she dumped him unceremoniously on the asphalt, heels clicking angrily as she turned and went back in.

Zexion watched her go, glaring, then stood to brush himself off.

He didn't have a car, didn't know anyone that could come pick him up, and the last thing he wanted to do was walk all the way to Demyx' house to claim his belongings. In fact, he didn't care if he did have a car, he still wouldn't have wanted to go see the blond. It hadn't been long enough, and while he was pining for his books he preferred waiting over the inevitable argument that would ensue.

"What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into this time, Zexion." He grumbled to himself, hands clenched tightly at his sides as he strode into the sun and across the asphalt. There was a general store not too far from here, and if he was lucky there would be a pay phone there that he could hail a cab with.

Not that transportation services were very common in this part of the city, but still. Maybe he would get lucky.

The sun beat down on his ill-worn hair, drawing sweat from pores and making his bangs stick to his forehead. It did nothing for his mood, and even less for his confidence out here in the open. He was hot, sweaty, and clothed in nothing but a hospital gown and his favorite coat. The clothes he'd worn the night he'd been brought in were ruined, stained so deeply with mud and twigs and so torn that even hookers would have hooted at him as he walked by. So he'd opted for the flimsy hospital clothes, thrown his jacket over it and said he'd manage, regardless.

It had been Lexaeus he'd told that to, and the man hadn't seemed to approve very much. Had even offered to go out and buy him a few things, if it would make him feel better. Zexion quickly nipped the conversation in the ass, making it clear that he could fend for himself just fine, thank you. The officer had been anything but approving.

But he didn't really care what the other man thought.

The esteemed, or so he liked to be called, Dr. Vexen had managed to acquire a pair of shoes for him, ratty Chuck Taylors that honestly didn't match what he was wearing at all, not to mention that the creepy doctor himself had refused to tell him just where he'd gotten them.

Most likely, he chose to assume, from the morgue.

When they'd brought in his coat at well, he'd half-heartedly reached for the inside pocket, feeling for the book he'd stolen. But unsurprisingly it wasn't there, and instead he found a sticky note with a frown scribbled on it. He'd growled, crushed the note, and thrown it out the window.

At the edge of the parking lot he was forced to wait a good three minutes for traffic to slow, and even as the light turned red and the cars were required to stop, he was nearly clipped by a speeding truck. After giving the man at the wheel the finger, Zexion continued across the road and took the sidewalk, hoping to reach the general store before anyone he knew saw him. The college wasn't too far away after all, and lunch was creeping up. This area would be swarmed with hungry students before long.

Not even a minute after he'd thought it, a group of laughing, pretty-faced girls turned a corner not too far from him, and much to his dismay they were walking straight towards him. Zexion looked down at his hideous looking gown, the fact that it stopped just short of his scraggly, scarred knees and was adorned in white polka dots to contrast its light blue hue made him dart off the sidewalk and into the nearest building, which, to his relief, was an antique shop. It was pretty much assured that no one from his college would have any interest in perusing something like that.

The girl at the register gave him an odd look, eyes traveling up and down to take in his clothing and ragged appearance. She watched him as he ambled over to the far window, peered outside and watched the group of girls toddle past. When Zexion let out a sigh of relief, he heard the sound of shuffling and turned to find her armed with an umbrella.

"What are you doing in here? Hiding from someone?" She stared fixedly at his hospital attire, then gasped. "Dear God, you're not a patient from across the street are you? Don't tell me you ran away, cause I will beat you down with this umbrella and-"

"Relax." Zexion said quickly, annoyed at the girls reaction. "I've been legally released from the hospital, I just didn't have any proper clothes and had to make due with what I had. Now if you'd be so kind as to put the umbrella down I'd be happy to leave your establishment post haste."

The girl eyed him for a minute more, and in the silence Zexion could hear the sound of a small portable radio blasting terrible pop music.

"Well," The girl began, looking guilty. "I guess you can't be too crazy if you can still talk like that. What with the post haste and establishment talk..." She dropped the umbrella on the counter and sighed. "Sorry man, but you never can tell with people nowadays. I mean, not three days ago I heard about a guy stealing the towns Lexicon out of nowhere! Crazy stuff, huh? And once, this guy came in and -" She chuckled, missing the look of guilty terror on Zexion's face, "Well, it's a dumb story and you probably aren't interested anyway, so yeah, just uh, go back to doing what you were doing!" She left him to round the corner of the register table, and in her absence Zexion quickly schooled his expression into something that probably resembled calm.

Despite the fact that he was anything but.

"My name is Kairi by the way, nice to meet you!" Zexion returned his attention to the girl, and took the hand she offered him, head inclining as he supplied his own name.

"Zexion, huh? Sounds exotic! But I guess Kairi isn't the most typical name either..." Kairi began to drift in thought, hand on her chin. Zexion watched her awkwardly, waiting, then cleared his throat.

She flinched and looked back at him, then smiled, bemused.

"Sorry 'bout that, I tend to drift. Anywho, what brought you here of all places? I mean, no offense to my dear old Grandma, but it's not exactly the best shop around."

"I'm just, ah, poking about, I suppose. I've never been in here so I thought that maybe-"

"You really were hiding from someone, weren't you?" Kairi giggled behind her hand at the look she received, one of shock and guilt and then embarrassment. "It's okay," She continued, soothing him. "As long as you aren't running from the cops or doctors or something, feel free to stay here as long as you'd like. It wouldn't be the first time someone's darted in here to hide, after all. From angry lover's to dentists to dogs... And I can't really blame you, I mean, you don't exactly have that casual pedestrian look to you in those clothes." Kairi laughed again, and Zexion tried his best not to find her happy-go-lucky attitude irritating. "I've seen my fair share of strange things, I guess. But anyway, I've gotta get back to work. Don't be a stranger, Zexion!"

"Ah, thank you, Kairi." Zexion watched her amble towards a room in the back, but before she was out of earshot, "I'll be sure to come back and actually buy something next time. And to visit, of course."

"I'd like that." She replied with a smile, and with a cheery little wave Kairi disappeared through an open doorway and did not return. A moment or so later he could hear her voice answering a call from another, much older one. He sighed, glanced about the shelves around him, then made to exit.

He planned on waiting a while longer, perhaps even until lunch hour passed and traffic slowed down a bit. But he didn't think Kairi's invitation would stand that long and he didn't really want to still be there when she did come back. The thought of looking around and maybe finding something to buy crossed his mind, but as the girl had said there really wasn't much to look at. And furthermore...

He knew he had someone waiting on him.

He also knew that he probably should have waited back at the hospital, because said someone would be quite angry if he found him wandering around town.

But Zexion didn't really care.

He left Kairi's shop tentatively, watching and waiting for anyone he may have known. When no such person appeared he headed back down the well-worn sidewalk in the direction he'd been traveling.

The cars passed by, some slowing to stare at him, other speeding up when he glared angrily. One man had the nerve to stop and ask him if he needed a ride, to which he replied, teeth tight, "Thank you sir, but no. I'm quite fine on my own, thank you." They sped off, leaving him in the dust and Zexion began to wonder if I'm fine, thank you was becoming his motto.

After that he took a more discreet path, one hidden between the buildings that required a bit of walking through the grass. It didn't bother him that the dew soaked his shoes pretty quickly, or that the people loitering around shop windows could clearly seem him. Let them stare like he was some crazy, demented person, he knew who he was. And that he was just... just...

"I just want to be alone." He groaned.

When he finally arrived at the tiny little general store on the corner, he fully intended to sidle along the aisles until he reached the furthermost corner of the place. There he would be able to hide until nightfall. No one would notice him and no one would ask any questions, and maybe if he was lucky he could swipe a pack of gum and a Coke while the clerk was on break.

But before he could even enter the store, a voice called out to him, an angry tone that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Zexion swallowed around the knot in his throat, turning to face imminent danger. Danger in the form of an angry officer whose hands were clenched into fists as he stomped across the parking lot towards Zexion.

The lilac-haired teen offered a weak wave, one that was definitely not returned. Lexaeus' eyes narrowed.

"You were told to wait at the hospital, Zexion. I'm going to assume you forgot that, and that's why you're all the way over here, in the middle of nowhere and dressed like..." Lexaeus trailed off, but Zexion ignored his roaming eyes in favor of thrusting a finger into the man's chest.

"You don't own me, and I won't be leashed, officer."

"So you want to go to jail after all? Because if someone else had seen you here and recognized you, you'd be in a lot of trouble right now. You're supposed to be with me from this day onwards, remember? You're not supposed to leave my line of sight, and you'd do well to not forget that."

"How could I? It's only the worst possible thing that could ever happen to someone like me." Zexion crossed his arms over his chest, inclining his head at the idling police cruiser parked in one of the empty lots. Its lights were flashing in a startling array of colors that dredged up memories he really wasn't planning on dealing with.

In a moment of humor, he pointed at the car and said, coyly, "Are you planning on arresting me, sir?"

Lexaeus scoffed. "I have cuffs, don't tempt me."

Zexion rolled his eyes and turned, "Whatever. Before we go I need to buy some things. I most certainly don't want to be toted around in a police cruiser in this attire, after all. The things people would say..."

"We have somewhere we need to be, your clothes will have to wait." Lexaeus reached out and snatched Zexion by the wrist, pulling him away from the automatic door and the sudden rush of processed air that spilled out of them. Zexion growled, trying to yank away, knowing that to anyone in the store or lot would think he was being taken in, but he didn't care, he just wanted him arm back.

"I can walk myself, thank you very much!" He griped, and Lexaeus released him, leaving the teen to rub his wrist sorely. "Don't touch me." He muttered, making his way towards the car.

The door opened smoothly, air conditioning welcoming him happily. Zexion settled in, pulled the belt tight across his chest and immediately pushed a few random buttons on the radio. Lexaeus climbed into the driver's seat and eyed him warily, ears tuned to the sound of punk rock music. Zexion raised a delicate eyebrow.

"What are you looking at?"

The driver sighed, closed his door and pulled the seatbelt across his wide chest. "I just saw you as more of the classical type."

"I listen to all kinds of music." Zexion grumbled, and directed his attention out of the window, completely blocking the other man out. Lexaeus' eyes roamed over his face for another minute more, wondering at the sheaf of bangs covering the teen's face. Why someone would want to obscure their face in such a way he didn't know, but he decided not to question it, due to the fact that Zexion really didn't seem to like him at the moment.

Without another word he pulled out of the lot and headed in the general direction of the address he'd been given a day or so ago. An address he himself was unfamiliar with, but Zexion would know quite well.

Three miles from their intended destination, Zexion began to fidget. Lexaeus paid no notice to it at first, but when the man began to loudly drum his fingers on the door, he asked him if there was something on his mind that needed sharing.

"We're going to Demyx' house, aren't we?"

A stop sign deemed them to halt, and the officer took the chance to glance at Zexion from the corner of his eye. "Mhm. We're supposed to be collecting your things, and that's it. I've called ahead so everything is set and there's no need for you to worry." He turned his head to look the passenger in the eye, stare firm. "I don't want you getting into another fight either, so do try to stay calm."

"I'll be fine." Zexion retorted, and the car crept forward, speeding up to obey the limit. They passed a few small houses, some surrounded by dingy white fences and other open and free. Zexion had known this neighborhood as a child, had lived close to it, and had been told that this was where the poorer people lived. He sighed, set his head against the window and watched the homes zip by. "It won't take that long to pack my things." He whispered. And in that same breath he mouthed a prayer to anyone willing to listen. A prayer begging for his precious books to lay where he'd left them, in a small mountain that surrounded his small futon. The window would be closed, the curtain pulled across to shield the room from the harsh rays of the sun. The covers would a mess, half pulled onto the floor from a clumsy departure. Zexion hoped Demyx had at least picked up a couple boxes.

Ten minutes later they were pulling up a thin gravel driveway, rocks popping under the cruisers heavy tires. Said driveway was lined with lovingly tended shrubs and flowers, the house itself also lined with plants, each perfectly watered and flowing over their hanging pots and pitchers. When the car stopped Zexion popped the handle on the door and got out, his face pale and his hands wringing nervously together. If he'd had the option, he would have thrown himself back into the car and never come out again.

Lexaeus opened his own door and stared awkwardly at the tiny house. He knew he was supposed to keep Zexion in his line of sight at all times, but to intrude on a place so private... It didn't help that they'd just met, and that the tiny teen was currently clinging to the side of his car. This probably wasn't going to end well.

Zexion took a shuddering breath and headed up the sidewalk, not stopping to see if the officer was following him. In his heart he hoped that Demyx wouldn't be home, that way he could just filch the key under the mat and let himself in.

But seeing as how the owner of the home already thought he was an awful thief, that probably wasn't the best course of action.

The doorbell was cold under his finger, and he found that no matter how much he wanted to, he could not find the courage to push it. So instead he pulled back the metal grate covering the door and knocked slowly, waiting for an answer.

Silence met him, deafening and lonely. Vaguely he registered the sound of boots on stone, and then the creak of footsteps on the porch. A presence at his back...

The door opened, revealing a very neutral-faced man, one whose blue hair rivaled in oddity that of Zexion's own.

A spark seemed to pass between the lilac-haired teen and this blue-haired fellow, and Lexaeus suddenly wondered if this was Demyx, and if it had been wise to let Zexion knock on the door instead of himself. But the teen's shoulders were relaxing, and in as polite a tone as possible he said, "Good afternoon, Saïx. I trust you know why I... why we're here. May we come in?"

"Yeah, sure." Saïx said stiffly, giving off the air of someone who couldn't care less one way or another. He stepped away from the door to allow them entry and Lexaeus nodded at him, presenting his hand.

"Officer Lexaeus, nice to meet you."

Saïx took his hand, shaking it firmly. Lexaeus couldn't help but notice how cold it was.

"My name is Saïx, nice to meet you as well. Although, the circumstances make this a most... awkward meeting." He sighed, shrugged and returned to the loveseat he'd been occupying before the two had arrived. A cold glass of green tea sat on the coffee table before the seat, placed neatly beside an open novel. "Demyx is out." He added, an underlying note of amusement in his voice. "He didn't want to be around while you were here, so I'm keeping watch instead." Saïx picked up his book and flipped it open, opting to block out his guests instead of leading them further into the house. Completely guiless to the look of raw frustration on Zexion's face, he flipped a page and that was that. Shaking his head, the teen gestured for the officer to follow him and stepped carefully around a pile of shoes to lead them down a hallway in the back. Lexaeus trailed close behind, having to duck his head slightly to keep it from bumping with the ceiling. He noticed at that point just how short Zexion was, and wished that he too could be just a foot or so smaller. Being tall had its advantages, sure, but the disadvantages seemed to outweigh them a majority of the time.

So engrossed in his thoughts, the giant of a man nearly bowled Zexion over when the lilac-haired teen stopped to unlock a door. The boy glared up at him, that single visible eye just barely illuminated in the darkness of the hall.

"Sorry." The officer said, taking a step back.

The door opened with an ear-splitting shriek, and Zexion muttered a curse as he kicked it open. He'd meant to get it fixed at some point, but as busy as he was he'd never quite gotten around to it.

Nonetheless, he ambled into the room, left hand reaching for the light fixture above his head. He had to jump to pull the string attached to it, and he blushed angrily when Lexaeus chuckled at him.

In the center of the room were three folded boxes, and atop them lay a white piece of parchment. Zexion snatched it before the officer could see and quickly shoved it into his pocket. He picked up the box laying on top and shaped it quickly, wanting to get this done and over with. Once that was done he shoved it at Lexaeus and pointed to the tiny dresser by the bed.

"Take out the contents of the first two drawers. Don't worry about folding them because they're already as neat as I like them. Just be careful and don't stare at my undergarments any longer than absolutely necessary."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Zexion plucked the second box up and shaped it as well, deciding that it would probably only hold a third of his books, and that in the end most of what he owned would have to be carried to the car or left behind. He sighed and set to work, placing well-loved novels into the cardboard as carefully as possible. The stack was nearly as tall as he was, and by the time he'd filled his box up Lexaeus had already finished his own task. Zexion felt something soft hit the back of his head, and when he picked up the projectile he found himself frowning down at a pair of socks.

"You have a strange folding style." Lexaeus told him, placing the box by the half-open door.

"I prefer unique." Zexion retorted, tossing the socks back over his shoulder.

A third box and a tiny stack of unpacked books later, Zexion was shoving his quilt into a fresh pillowcase, tying it up like a runaways rucksack. Besides the sheets, his clothes and his books he had little else to bring with him. His officer had already taken the boxes out to the car, his only comment being, "I sure don't hope we have to arrest anyone on the way home. They'd have to sit up front with us!"

Zexion had snorted and handed the man an armful of books to shush him. Before long they'd cleared them all, and after the lilac-haired teen had retrieved the few he'd hidden about the room he was nearly ready to leave. All he had left was a large bookbag and a few notebooks sitting on the floor. Inside the bag were his textbooks for college, and essentially everything he needed to attend school.

It had been awhile since he'd gone, though...

With everything said and done Zexion ushered Lexaeus from the room, turning to face it for one final goodbye. He'd become a bit attached in his time here, and even if the room was small and plain he had always found it perfect.

"I'll get the car started." Lexaeus said, leaving him to his own devices. Zexion was slightly grateful, because it gave him the chance to sigh and fold inwards on himself a bit, suddenly sad at the prospect of never seeing this place, or its main resident, ever again.

The note in his pocket crinkled loudly.

He pulled it out, unfolded it and smoothed out the creases. Demyx' large, clumsy scrawl wriggled its way across the page, dominating lines and obeying not a single law of proper letter making.

It read as such,

"Zexion,

Hey man, I know I was pretty mean to you the other day, but I couldn't help myself. In some ways it was a bit uncalled for, mostly that last bit, but, I mean, if I didn't say it then I knew I never would have been able to later on... Anyway, I just wanted to say that I apologize, and that I'm going to think long and hard about all of this. And maybe, just maybe, when your sentence is over and all of this has faded a bit, I might let you come back. Best friends forever, right? Also, the school's been calling about you. Skipping class, are we? If you could see me now you'd see that I'm shaking my head. In the next couple months, try to get yourself straightened out, okay? I... I just want you to be happy. In present and future. You know my number.

May the Force be with you,

Demyx

P.S. Yes, I did just quote Star Wars. Sue me. :)

Zexion crushed the note in his hand, letting forth a shaky breath. His eyes were teary but he refused to let the liquid fall over his lashes. He'd thought Demyx would have been angrier, and for a much longer time. But from the looks of the letter...

It only served to confuse him, and he left the room without waiting a moment longer.

When he got to the living room Saïx was leaning against the wall, book in hand, and when he walked in the man looked up, eyes narrowing.

"Before you leave," He started, voice lower by several degrees. "Demyx wanted me to ask you if you had anything left to say to him. I'd be happy to pass the message on for you." He waited, watching the look of deliberation on Zexion's face with a passive, if not bored, expression. Finally, Zexion shook his head. But not because he didn't have anything to pass along, per se. It was due to the look on the other man's face, the cold spark in his eyes, the rigidness of his posture, Zexion couldn't help but think that the last thing Saïx wanted to do was pass anything on.

"I don't have anything to say right now. But... I guess you could tell him thank you. For everything."

He left then, backpack in hand, not stopping to look back. Saïx followed him out the door, saying nothing as he did so. Zexion nodded a goodbye, threw his bag in the back seat of the cruiser and climbed in. All he wanted to do was get away from this place, to put this neighborhood and its people as far behind him as possible. Lexaeus didn't speak to him, just motioned for the seatbelt leaning against the frame of the car and then put the vehicle into drive. Saïx watched them leave, eyes morphing into hard shards of amber.

He would not be passing on any messages today.

A few minutes down the road, Zexion shifted in his seat, eyes staring fixedly at the man beside him.

"Can we buy clothes now? This gown keeps riding up."

Lexaeus turned the radio down, blocking out the sound of angry guitars and choruses and said, "Not just yet. I got a call while you were finishing up. I've got, ah, guests, waiting for us at home." He smiled knowingly to himself and glanced quickly in Zexion's direction to take in his reaction. "I might have told them a bit about your situation, so they're eager to meet you."

"You did what?" Zexion seethed, hands reaching for the larger man's throat. Lexaeus took one hand and shoved the man back, ruffling his hair as he did so. Zexion pouted, arms crossing over his chest at just how childlike he felt in that moment. And indeed, the pout on his face, the flush to his cheeks and his small stature made him easily similar to that of a small child. "I can't believe you'd do that. How rude."

"You'll be alright. They're good guys, so you don't have to worry. And it's not like I told them your life story or something."

"Only because you don't know it." He huffed.

Lexaeus smiled at him. "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

Zexion didn't answer.

The house they pulled up to was not a mansion by any means, but it was larger than any house Zexion had ever had the opportunity to call his own. He stepped out of the car and collected his bag, leaving the books and the boxes for later. Lexaeus had told him he would carry them in himself, and because they were so heavy Zexion didn't argue. He noted the second police cruiser already parked in the driveway and frowned. So Lexaeus hadn't been kidding, but he never mentioned that the guests were more cops.

The large man called for him to follow and led him up the wrap around porch. Lexaeus didn't bother looking for keys, knowing that the door was certainly unlocked. He turned the knob and opened the door to a rush of cool air, and ushered his guest in first.

The house opened immediately up in all directions, before him being a hall that led to what seemed to be a dining room, to his left he assumed was the living room(wherein a large tv was on, spewing forth the sounds of crazy car chases and screaming dames), and to his right a staircase, then a small sitting room. It opened further in the back, probably to extra rooms and a kitchen, but he thought it rude to go exploring without permission.

"Hello?" Lexaeus called out, ambling into the living room as he slipped off his coat. Zexion removed his shoes and followed, unsure of what he'd find. He feared that the man's guests would turn out to be rugged enforcers of the law, ones who looked even scarier than the man he'd come here with. Zexion gulped.

When he stepped into the living room, the light snapped on and before him lay a scene he could have very well done without.

Two men, one not too much younger than himself and one probably just a bit older, sat on the couch before the television. Pillows were strewn about the floor, and the remote to the otherwise forgotten television was a mess of batteries on the carpet. The younger man sat atop the others lap, their faces flushed as they clung to one another.

Zexion blinked, then scoffed and averted his eyes.

Because they were, well, kissing.