Tainted But Beautiful
Part 2: The Secrets
18. Slayer
Pairings: AkuZeku, Zemyx, AkuRoku, AxDem, minor onesided VexZex, XemSaix
Rated: M
Warnings: Vampires, vampires, vampires...uh, yaoi, AU-ish-ness, abuse, noncon, rape, graphic scenes, character death, overall weirdness.
Summary: Axel is a powerful vampire slayer who's captured Zexion, a vampire, as his pet. What Axel doesn't bargain on is Demyx, his former student, developing a strong attraction to Zexion...
Notes: Quick President's Day update! And first of all, I'd like to thank every one of you reviewers for helping me get over 200 reviews--the first time any one of my stories has received so many reviews. Overall, I've been overwhelmed by the response to this story; certainly when I first set out to write it I didn't think it would be this popular. So thank you all, and treat yourself to (fat-free, calorie-free) e-cookies!
Now on to the chapter, which I imagine you're all looking forward to on account of Axel's reappearance...and don't worry, there is an explanation for it. I feel this is the most plot-intensive chapter so far; and don't worry, we are getting answers...so sit tight and enjoy the ride. I hope.
"Hey, what's with those faces? You look almost like you've seen a ghost..."
The first sensation Roxas felt was--nothing. Just a powerful, overwhelming numbness, rising from the pit of his stomach and tingling through the tips of his fingers, immbolizing him...
And then, disbelief. A crushing tide of disbelief that rose from the very bottom of his soul to knock the breath out of him, to nearly send him to his knees again, to cause his breath to come short and ragged and his head to swim, caused his limbs to shiver from dread and shock and the tiniest, tiniest, quiver of--of happiness. Happiness that he was hearing that voice again--Axel's voice--
Yet he couldn't believe it. Axel was dead, dead, dead, Roxas had seen Axel die, had done the deed himself--but yet here, against all reason, defying all logic, Axel was here, approaching Roxas with every step, the familiar languid smirk on his face, gun still casually held over his shoulder...almost as if nothing had happened. Almost as if Axel hadn't died, had never died...
Wildly, Roxas wondered if this wasn't all a dream--if everything had been a dream. Him killing Axel...him being a vampire...maybe that had all been one horrible, extended, nightmare, and now it was all over and he was awake again and nothing had changed, he was still happily living with Axel--
But even as he entertained this notion, Roxas knew it wasn't true. He knew that it hadn't been a dream, that it was all real. He knew that the him standing there right then and now--a pallid being, a fanged monster, whose ice-cold blood was splattered over the front of his shirt--was real. Was the real him, not some nightmare construct...as much as he might have wished it was.
Still...he couldn't deny that Axel was there. That Axel had stopped barely three meters in front of Roxas--and Demyx and Zexion. He was still smiling impishly, but none of the joking quality was in his eyes--there was instead a strange, serious, ferocity burning in those green depths, a ferocity that Roxas didn't quite understand...
A ferocity that, Roxas saw with a jolt, was directed towards Zexion.
Zexion was standing perfectly still as Roxas was, his arms by his sides, shaking almost imperceptibly. His head was lowered, so that Roxas couldn't see his eyes, but what Roxas could see of Zexion's face was blanched, whiter than snow, and he seemed to be biting his lip. Demyx, standing a little behind Zexion, was, by contrast, staring wide-eyed--but his wasn't the astonished disbelief that both Roxas and Zexion were feeling; it was a more general, flummoxed, sort of surprise.
But then, with a heavy sigh that seemed to contain all the weariness of his being, Zexion's shoulders relaxed, and he lowered his head further--but the movement caused his mess of slate-blue hair to shift, and Roxas could see his expression clearly. Not surprised, any longer--but--
Resigned.
Roxas had no idea why, though. Why Zexion's expression had changed so quickly, why he was looking at Axel no longer as if he was seeing a ghost, or a dead man walking, but...but something he'd expected. Something he'd known he would always see...
What Zexion said next didn't clarify matters any further. He simply said, with a slight shake of his slate-colored head, "I suppose...I had always suspected...well, now you are here, and...and it seems that I..."
What? What is he--? If Roxas hadn't been confused before...well, now he really had no idea what was going on. He saw his surprise mirrored on Demyx's face, saw Demyx reach out in an abortive motion towards Zexion, say in a low and concerned voice, "Zexy--"
Both Zexion and Axel ignored Demyx, however. They continued to stare at each other, both bearing stony expressions--all traces of the jesting grin had vanished from Axel's face, and Zexion no longer looked so much resigned as serious, strained. At length, after a silence that surrounded Roxas, thick and cold, Axel spoke.
"You miscalculated. You misjudged. Am I right? Wouldn't be the first time, though, would it?"
Zexion didn't seem to react at all to the quiet, near-toneless, words. He simply straightened his shoulders, and replied, in an equally quiet and flat tone:
"No. I suppose it wouldn't."
Roxas turned his gaze back and forth from Axel and Zexion, his mentor and his master, both acting equally as strange at the moment, and couldn't for the life of him think of anything to do, or say. Couldn't figure out what was going on. Couldn't understand; couldn't understand anything.
It wasn't a surprise, but it still...it still made him feel a little sad. The knowledge that there were things that Axel had never saw fit to tell him, important things...
To say that Demyx was confused out of his wits would be an understatement.
To say that he was lost as a blind camel in the Antarctic might be approaching the truth. He simply had no clue what was going on, what everyone was yakking about. What the hell had Axel and Zexion just said to each other? And why was Roxas gaping at Axel with a look of utter disbelief on his face, almost as if he was seeing an alien or something equally weird, instead of, well...Axel? Not to mention, why was Roxas...why was Roxas a vampire now?
Demyx thought his head would explode; he had too many questions. Worse, he felt that no one present was going to answer them--Axel and Zexion were simply engaged in a silent glaring match, while Roxas seemed equally as confused as Demyx did. Demyx could only hang back, his heart pounding, watching helplessly as Axel and Zexion continued fixing each other with unwavering glowers.
At length, Axel broke the silence. "So, vampire. Why did you come back here? I thought the logical thing to do would be to run as far from this place as possible..."
Demyx couldn't comprehend the depth of...of sheer hatred blazing beneath Axel's words, like a sharp-edged knife, like crackling flames. But he recognized it, and it scared him...almost unconsciously, Demyx took a step backwards, never removing his eyes from Zexion's back and wondering, What...what must have happened between you two...to get him to hate you so much, Zexion?
He didn't voice his question aloud, though. Instead, he kept staring, wide-eyed, as Zexion answered, head lowered, his voice tightly strained. "I...you are right. If I had my way, I would not have returned, but..."
Then, for some reason, Zexion lifted his head a fraction of an inch and nodded, briefly, in Roxas's direction. Roxas didn't even react to the acknowledgment, and Demyx was left even more mystified than he'd been before. He almost wanted to leap between Axel and Zexion and scream for them to give him some answers right now or he'd kill them all--but that was nonsense. He could hold his instincts in check...could watch, and wait, and hope that Axel and Zexion revealed all through their conversation.
"But you came back--and hey, you even brought Demyx as a snack in case you got hungry, huh?" called Axel, his tone harshly mocking, and Demyx jolted when he heard his name for the first time--and saw that Axel was pointing straight at him, a cold smirk on his face, an unpleasant light glinting in his eyes. For one wild moment, Demyx wondered if Axel had finally lost it...
Not that it was possible to lost what you never had...Demyx brushed this thought aside, though, once he registered the meaning of Axel's words, and shouted in horrified denial, "No--Axel--that's not--"
Zexion said, at the same time, "You're wrong--"
Both stopped mid-phrase when they realized that they'd spoken essentially the same thing at the same time. Zexion cast Demyx a brief, wide-eyed glance which Demyx returned with an awkward smile. The light moment was ruined, however, when Axel cut in, his tone acid, "Oh, isn't that sweet."
Zexion flushed a little, but caught ahold of himself enough to reply to Axel in the same frigid tone he'd been using before. "I meant it, though. I have no intention of eating Demyx."
Despite himself--despite his present situation--Demyx couldn't help but feel a swell of pride towards Zexion with those words. Even though Zexion was a vampire...a hungry vampire...he cared about Demyx enough to not see Demyx as food. He cared enough to refrain from fulfilling his basest instincts...
Sometimes, Demyx wondered why Zexion continued to deny that he was in love with Demyx.
Again, though, the moment was shattered by Axel, who retorted with a derisive snort and a shake of his head. "Drop it with that shit, will you? Oh, well...I suppose that's one good thing you've done...bringing Demyx back to me alive..."
Zexion swallowed visibly, but when he spoke his tone was quiet, serious. "You do know that was the entire reason that...I did what I did. For...for him. For Demyx."
With the last word, Zexion turned to face Demyx. Demyx took a startled step back, his heart jolting violently--he'd never seen that look on Zexion's face. A serious look, a resolved look...yet also a pained one, filled with stark resignation. A nervous look...as if Zexion was about to say something that he knew Demyx wouldn't like...that he was going to tell Demyx the truth.
A faint, foreboding sensation began to stir in the pit of Demyx's stomach...a sensation he didn't understand and didn't quite like. He turned his head this way and that, taking in the scene...the silent, stiff, Zexion...Axel staring back and forth at Zexion and Demyx with a strange, half-delighted, half-disbelieving, expression on his face...Roxas wide-eyed and completely lost.
The heavy silence was shattered when Axel then threw his head back--and laughed. It was nothing like his usual insidiously amused chuckles; the only way Demyx could describe this laugh was loud, raucous, ringing with utter delight. A triumphant laugh, a jubilant laugh, a very nearly mad laugh...
"Ha ha ha ha ha! A ha ha ha ha! I can't--fucking--believe--it! You--you mean you haven't told him, vamp? You mean, Demyx has no idea what you did? Go on, tell him. Tell him, why don't you, I think it's rude to keep information from him! Tell him!"
By the end of Axel's speech, all of the triumph had slipped out of the voice, to be replaced by a sharp, commanding tone--one Demyx was already intimately familiar with...one that reminded him, against his will, of those nights when he had tried to "master" Zexion...
Zexion had started shaking his head, imperceptibly at first, but then harder and harder until his hair was flying around his face, yet he didn't seem to notice or care. "No--no--no--I can't--I won't--"
Can't what? Won't what? Demyx's frustration was rising, almost choking him. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why Zexion and Axel and Roxas were acting so damn weird--enough, enough, he wanted to say, tell me already, damn it!
"Tell--" He opened his mouth to speak, about to command Zexion to do the same thing Axel had ordered him to do, the thing that Zexion seemed utterly unwilling to do, but then Axel spoke up, his voice dispassionate.
"What the hell, if you're not going to, guess I'll do it. Okay, Dems, here's the short of it, and commit it to memory: He killed me."
He killed me. The words swept meaningless over Demyx's ears, and he stood there, dumb and uncomprehending, trying to make sense of what Axel had just said. And trying to fight back an irrational feeling of...anticlimax. Demyx had been expecting something truly terrible, some awful crime that would justify Axel's hatred and Zexion's silence, but...but instead he got this. This statement which was obviously a lie. How could Zexion have killed Axel, if Axel was walking and talking this very moment? Unless Axel was a ghost... Demyx squinted, but the red-haired slayer appeared perfectly solid.
"Come on, Axel--" he began, alarmed by how weak his voice sounded but pressing on anyway, "Tell the truth, it's just mean to do what you're doing--"
"Hold on! That's what I don't get! If you--if you're dead--then how come you're--how come you're here, Axel?"
Demyx whipped around in alarm--Roxas had spoken for the first time. The boy (Or vampire? What?) was facing Axel, his fists clenched into fists, his jaw clenched, his eyes huge and wild and his entire frame quivering. Roxas really looked quite a mess--his blonde hair was sticking every which way and a dark red stain was blooming across the front of his shirt. But Roxas didn't seem to care at all about his physical state; he was just staring directly ahead, ferocity written in every line on his face, trembling crazily.
"You were dead! I saw you die! Oh--by fucking God--I killed you!" With the last words, Roxas broke down into a choked sob, and fell to his knees, his shaking legs unable to support his body weight any longer.
"Huh? What?" If Demyx had been confused before...well, now he was even more lost than a camel in the Antarctic. He whirled around to face Zexion, "But you said that you--"
"Long story, Demyx," replied Zexion in a low, discontent, mumble, lowering his head so that his hair covered his eyes again. "Please..."
But Demyx had had enough. He didn't even care if Zexion fell to his knees and begged Demyx--he was going to find out the truth, regardless of whether Zexion and Axel wanted him to or not. He'd had enough of other people witholding information from him, had enough of their "you don't need to know" attitude--damn it he was going to get to the bottom of this and straight to hell to anyone who tried to stop him. Now...now he was going to get answers. Now. He was going to solve the puzzle that had presented itself the very first time Xaldin had said, "He's a human slayer...he doesn't understand" to him.
"No! No! Enough! I'm sick of this--you hiding everything from me! Tell me fucking now! Now, now, now, tell me whether you or Roxas killed Axel, and why Axel's walking around anyway if he's supposed to be dead--"
Another anguished sob rose from Roxas at the word "dead", but Demyx was too steaming to care. He stomped across the plaza, his steps ringing in tune to the hammering of his heart, straight towards Zexion. Who gave a damn about mortal danger or whatever, when the truth remained to be known? But Zexion started backing off when he noticed Demyx approaching, holding his hands in front of him, fear in his eyes.
"Stop--please--back down--Demyx--"
"No! Tell me the truth and I'll back down!" Demyx could barely speak through his rage, his desire to know more. By now, he had backed Zexion against the broken fountain, and there were barely two yards to close between them. Zexion kept glancing this way and that, and kept trying to creep to the side, but Demyx always managed to block any escape route just in time. No...there'd be no getting out of this. Demyx wouldn't let Zexion escape until Zexion answered, answered with nothing short of the whole truth...
"Demyx...there's a time and place for..." Zexion had stopped trying to escape, but had directed his gaze to the side and down, at the ground. His arms hung limply by his sides, and he seemed frustrated...yet resigned at the same time. He had started quivering slightly, yet Demyx found it hard to summon any sympathy beneath the violent boiling of his blood.
"Now's the time. Here's the place. Tell me!" And then, recklessly, abandoning all fear for himself, ignoring the fact that this was a starving vampire he'd pinned into a corner, Demyx reached straight out to grab Zexion by the collar--
But was stopped from committing this foolish action by Roxas's voice, shrill with emotion. "Shut up! Stop it! You're not--you're not the only one who wants to know! Axel--"
Roxas had turned to Axel now, his gaze beseeching but angry, but Demyx hadn't forgotten that Roxas's rage had been directed against him only a few seconds ago... He abandoned his attempt to corner Zexion, and stepped off to his side, now fixing his eyes on Axel and Roxas...that was right, Axel would have answers, Axel would answer his beloved Roxas even when Zexion refused to answer Demyx...
"Axel," said Roxas again, and a note of quiet pleading had slipping into his voice. "Please...tell me. Tell us. How are you...how are you still alive?"
For the longest time, Axel didn't speak. Nobody spoke--the plaza was draped in silence, a silence so thick and heavy and still that Demyx almost felt like he was choking. He couldn't move; he could only stand there, suddenly feeling chilled to the core of his being though he had no idea why, aware of the darkness spread above him, aware of the cold glint of the stars, aware of the faint night breeze, aware of how empty the pavilion was, aware of how very much he felt that he, Zexion, Roxas, and Axel were solitary planets, pinpricks of life, in a vast and empty universe...
Finally, Axel broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper yet shatteringly loud against Demyx's eardrums, his words meaning nothing yet everything at the same time--
"It's because I'm a vampire slayer."
"What?" Roxas's voice rose so high that it almost cracked; undeterred, he pressed in, his face livid, his mouth twisted into a snarl that revealed his new fangs all too obvously. "What the fuck does that mean, being a vampire slayer doesn't protect you from death, damn it--"
"It wouldn't, not in your case." Axel was still speaking in that strange, quiet, almost solemn tone. It was hard to read his expression, but Demyx was quite sure that none of the old jocularity, or the blind rage, was in his eyes any longer. "Because you're not...oh, fuck, I don't know how to explain this...you're not even supposed to know and..."
"I want to know, I don't care about 'supposed to' anymore," said Roxas feverishly, mirroring Demyx's feelings precisely.
Axel unleashed a heavy sigh, and even buried his face behind his hand for an instant--but managed to collect himself quickly and let his hand fall back to his side again, and continued, still solemnly. "Look...you see...I'm not...I mean...you do know that there are two kinds of vampire slayers, don't you?"
"What? Really?" For the first time, Roxas's frustration gave way to genuine confusion, and he stared blankly at Axel, his blue eyes blinking. "What does that--"
But Demyx understood. He'd always known it...that for some reason, some strange, uncrossable divide existed between slayers like him, the weaklings who could only go after the lowest of the low vampires, and the slayers like Axel and Xigbar and Marluxia, who routinely hunted down purebloods without breaking a sweat. The divide had frustrated him, had angered him, had caused him to throw himself into his studies and training with the desperation of a drowning man, drowning in fear of his own failure. He had to overcome it, somehow, had to work hard enough to break through that barrier and become as talented a slayer as they all were...
Now, though...Axel was speaking as though there might be another component to the divide, not just hard work and talent. Something else...something deeper... Demyx perked up, pricking his ears and focusing all of his attention on Axel, not wanting to miss a second of Axel's explanation...he had to know...
"You understand, don't you, Demyx? The slayers like you...and Roxas..." Axel was now beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable, and Demyx had a faint suspicion why--because the explanation would be something that he wouldn't like. His heart began pounding violently against his ribcage, and he tried to quash a rising tide of disappointment... "You're...you're what we call 'human' slayers. Ordinary people...who can kill vampires using special weapons..."
"But you're not human." Roxas spoke the words without inflection, flatly--yet Demyx could feel the horror beneath the words, could see the troubled look on Roxas's face, the quivering of his fingertips...
Demyx understood, perfectly. Sure, there were plenty of times where he'd facetiously entertained the notion that Axel wasn't human--but he'd never seriously considered it. Yet, Axel didn't laugh at Roxas's words or otherwise dismiss them. Instead, with a brief jerk of his head, he nodded.
"I...well...yeah. I suppose you could say that...but not really." The discomfort in Axel's face and bearing had increased expontentially, and he seemed to be forcing himself to continue. "Not really...I mean...I'm not exactly...I suppose the best thing to call me would be 'vampire slayer'. No, I'm not a vampire, don't give me those faces..."
"He is the heir of a vampire slaying family." Zexion's voice, quiet and strained, broke through the silence, and both Roxas and Demyx whipped around to face him. Zexion was leaning against the shattered fountain, his arms folded, his head down, seemingly absorbed in the cracks in the ground beneath him. "If you haven't noticed already, all of the power in the vampire slaying world seems to reside with the families...and there is a very good reason for that."
"So you know too, hmm?" Axel cast a disinterested glance in Zexion's direction, but then turned back to the trembling Roxas. Demyx, too, realized with a startled jolt that he was also trembling. Trembling, and he'd gone cold inside...cold because he didn't...
Because now that he was going to find the truth...he didn't want to.
"Elaborating on what the vampire said...you two, you know about the great vampire slaying families, don't you...? The Florez, the Marchen, my own family, La Monte...but you don't know where we got our power. Well, it's not because we're nobles or anything...or because of talent. It's because...well...you see..."
Axel paused again, and then took a deep breath and plowed on. Each word now seemed unwillingly wrenched from him, as if it was hurting him to speak--but his words hurt Demyx more, hurt and confused him, with every syllable... "You know about vampires, and werewolves. Well, in the past...long ago, before any recorded history...other mythic creatures existed. Like dragons...fairies...unicorns...nymphs...and so on. Each had its own powers, its own magical abilities..."
Demyx had no idea what he was hearing, no idea if it was even true or not. A part of him again wondered if Axel had cracked, but no, Axel's words, every one of them, possessed the ring of truth to them. Axel was telling the truth, no matter how insane, no matter how fantastical, it might all sound...
"Well, you know how humans are like. When we want something...we have to get it, no matter what." Axel clenched his hand into a grim fist to demonstrate his point. His words were flowing more easily now, falling into the gentle lilt of a lecturing teacher. He was getting into his stride, whether he wanted to or not... "And that's what happened with all those strange and wonderful creatures...humans destroyed them. Hunted them, hunted them to extinction, but not before some managed to preserve secret stores of mythic blood. The blood of the magical creatures could grant any human who imbibed it supernatural abilities, so it was especially valued."
Demyx snuck a glance towards Zexion--the vampire was watching Axel intently, sometimes even nodding in agreement to portions of Axel's story. Well, the two couldn't share the same lie, could they...it must be the truth, what Axel was saying.
"In particular, the vampire slaying families kept stores of blood, and it was the vampire slaying families who knew the most about how to use the blood, about hell, its existence. Most people eventually forgot...but the families didn't. Every family kept its own store of blood; the blood of a single mythic creature. When the family's heirs came of a certain age...they would be given several drops, one, or two, or three at most, from the store...and gain the appropriate powers."
Axel stopped, pausing longer than his usual breaks for breath. Roxas seemed to take this as a cue to speak, because he said, in a tiny, strangled, voice, "But...but Axel...that's...I mean...you haven't got anything like that, you're normal, I would've noticed..."
"Am I really normal?" For the first time, a hint of Axel's usual teasing tone entered his voice again, but slipped away as soon as it had come, like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. "I'm not. You see, my family, the La Monte...we use the blood of the phoenix. The firebird."
"The creature able to resurrect itself, to be reborn from the ashes." Demyx turned in alarm, so fast he almost cracked his neck--Zexion had spoken, his tone harsh, still glaring at the ground. "That is why you didn't kill Axel when you stabbed him, Roxas. I had already suspected, but wasn't sure...so to err on the side of caution, I ordered you not to kill him, but to--"
"To stab." Roxas's words were barely audible above the night breeze, but Demyx heard nonetheless,and Axel and Zexion must have too, because both nodded in acknowledgment.
"That is right. And it seems...it seems that my suspicion has been proven correct." Zexion cast Axel an uneasy glance, and then immersed himself in the ground again. "He is imbued with the blood of the phoenix. He can choose to rise from the dead again, if he has been 'killed' in the conventional sense...and so he chose to do so this time. If I had ordered you to kill him...you would have attempted the impossible, and you would have been destroyed in the attempt." Again, another brief, uneasy glance in Axel's direction.
"Yeah, uh-huh." Axel nodded noncomittally, and then turned his attention back to the stricken, silently staring, Roxas and Demyx. "So you see...that's why I'm alive. Because of my phoenix blood..." He had moved his hand to his face, and was tracing the dark markings beneath his eyes, apparently without realizing what he was doing. "That's why I'm a vampire slayer, that's why you guys, you're..."
He broke off with a strange choked sound and shook his head--but then lifted his gaze to Demyx, meeting Demyx's eyes. Demyx took a step backwards, startled by the intensity of the emotion blazing in those green depths--he'd never seen Axel like this before, so fierce yet so sad at the same time...
But the torrent of emotions in Axel's eyes only mirrored the similar torrent swirling deep within Demyx. Axel's words were pressing down on Demyx, capturing him, smothering him on all sides, and he didn't want them to and didn't want to register them and didn't want to think about what they meant, what they meant for Axel and Roxas and above all what they meant for him, he didn't want to, no, no, no--
As if in a haze, he saw himself, seven years old, dashing across a rooftop while a bloodsucking monster of the night chased after him...he saw Axel, red-haired and ten, killing the vampire with a single neat shot...saw Axel extending a hand of welcome to himself...saw the years go by, saw him training under Axel, futilely, always futilely, struggling to best Axel, struggling to become a powerful vampire slayer in his own right...saw himself viciously battling made vampires...saw the effort it took for him to bring down just one...
Saw it all, and, for the first time, understood it all.
"No...no...no, no, no, no no no no no..." Demyx became aware of a voice, abject and broken, whispering the same word over and over again as if it was a protective mantra--it took a moment to realize that the voice was his own. It took an even longer moment to realize that he'd fallen to his knees, and that he had begun trembling, and that a cold sweat had spread across his face and the back of his neck...
"Demyx...Demyx, Roxas, both of you, but you especially Demyx--I'm...I'm...I'm...sorry." Axel's voice was almost unrecognizable, so low and gentle it was, so suffused with kindness, with sympathy. This time, Demyx knew that the emotion was real, wasn't a game or a farce. He could see it, the intensity burning like dying embers behind the green of Axel's eyes...and that terrified Demyx above all.
Because...if Axel felt the need to apologize...that truly meant that...it was true. It was true, all of it, Axel had said, and that meant that for Demyx, his dream, his lifelong dream, to become a slayer on a higher level, to become an equal to Axel...
Over.
"Really...I'm really...oh fucking God, Demyx, I'm so damn sorry...it's true, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know you had that dream, your entire life, and I'm so sorry to be the one to...I mean...to do it like this..." Axel's emotion was causing him to stammer; he most probably had never felt so much, and such genuine, emotion before and didn't know how to handle it. Demyx barely heard Axel's words, though, above the infernal buzzing in his own ears, above the repetition of the same soft, insidious word, over and over again, in his mind:
Over. Over. Over...it's over. It's all over. Everything. Over. Over. Over...
"But...hey, look...! You can still be a slayer...I mean, we still need human slayers and stuff, to take care of the made vampires for us...! You don't have to give up your dream, you can still be a slayer..." Axel was gesturing wildly now, offering useless platitudes. Demyx heard, though, and slowly shook his head in response.
"No." He was surprised he could even speak--surprised that his voice hadn't even cracked. Slightly emboldened, he raised his voice, pressing on.
"No. I don't--you know as well as I do, Axel, that...that's not what I want to do. I want to slay purebloods, I wanna...I wanna..."
He couldn't continue. He let his voice trail off into the blank air, left his thoughts unsaid; his voice had finally cracked and to his shame he could feel a hot wetness gathering behind his eyelids, stinging the corners of his eyes. But miserable as he might be...Demyx didn't want to let Axel see. He still wanted to retain some measure of pride...so he stopped speaking, unwilling to trust his words, fearing that if he went on, they would betray him.
Axel's response didn't make matters any better. His voice harsh-edged from pain, Demyx's mentor said, "I'm sorry...so sorry, Dems. Normal people just don't...don't have the speed and the strength and the reflexes to take on purebloods...I know you must want to, no, fuck, I knew all along, and I'm sorry for never telling you, but..."
"It is their best-kept secret, Demyx." Demyx jerked, slightly, blinking back the rising tears to see Zexion, still leaning against the fountain with his eyes cast to the ground. But Zexion had spoken with a measure of sympathy to his quiet voice--not the rough pain and uncontrolled emotion that Axel and Demyx were speaking with, but something...something gentler. Something more peaceful, calmer...more reassuring. Somehow, hearing Zexion's comforting tone caused a pinprick of warmth to rise within Demyx's frozen heart, yet...
...it wasn't enough. No amount of sympathy, no amount of comfort, would be enough. Still...what Axel had said before...bizarrely, it had given Demyx an idea, a way out of this, out of this crushing of his dreams...and much as a drowning man would seize on a lifeline, he seized at the sudden bizarre notion as the last anchor to his dream. Not raising his eyes from the stone beneath him, Demyx spoke, priding himself in only allowing a minimal trembling to enter his voice, "But...Axel...who says...who says I have to be a normal person? Why can't I--why can't you give me some of this blood and I--"
From the corner of his vision, Demyx saw Roxas jolt a little, and his eyes widen in--in eagerness? But of course, Roxas would be feeling similarly devastated...being a vampire slayer had been his dream as well. At least until he'd become a vampire...apparently by Zexion's doing. Demyx's head hurt too much, though, to dwell on that issue for now. No, at this moment, there was only one thing he cared about and that was--
Running side-by-side with Axel, gliding as freely as birds from rooftop to rooftop, laughing, guns by their sides, congratulating each other on the pureblood kill they'd accomplished together--
The second shattering was even worse than the first. Axel simply said, his voice quiet but still rough, "No. I'm sorry, Demyx, but...it doesn't work that way. You see...the blood has to be given very early...when you're very young. I was four when I received my phoenix's blood...you're too old, Demyx, it won't have any effect. Hell, it'd probably kill you. I'm sorry, but...but that's...it's the truth."
The truth. A truth bitter and black, seizing at Demyx's insides, tearing him apart atom by atom, destabilizing his soul, destroying him... He couldn't believe this, never in a million years had he imagined this, and the worst thing was that Axel had known all along and so had Zexion and they had never told him. They had let him believe his dream, engage in his silly delusions, while never once bothering to tell him that the one thing he desired above all else was impossible. Axel, especially...letting Demyx live under his roof for ten years, and letting Demyx trail in his shadow, giving Demyx all that false hope...while never informing Demyx of the stark truth of the matter:
Your dream will never come true.
The cracks in the ground blurred before Demyx's eyes, and then, much to his horror, he found tears, hot and stinging, rolling down his cheeks, falling with gentle plips onto the flagstone...and he could do nothing to stop them. He knew, he knew, how horrible it must look, crying like a baby in front of Zexion and Roxas and worst of all, Axel. Never had he let Axel see him cry before, but he couldn't stop he couldn't stop he was shaking too much and the tears were overwhelming him, choking him, overflowing and burning as he came, and he was making all sorts of horrible-sounding noises; not quite sobs, but little gasps and whimpers and sharp intakes of breath that were perhaps even worse, even more pathetic...
I'll never be a slayer. I'll never be the kind of slayer I want to be. I'll never be able to stand on equal ground with Axel. It was stupid, all along, me and my stupid dream, what an idiot I was, what an idiot I am, fuck I should have just burned my license and picked up the guitar, years ago...at least that's something I can do...
"Demyx...oh, fuck, Demyx..." Axel was speaking, his voice low, but there was no comfort in his words--in fact, he sounded scared. Scared and hesitant...how ironically idiotic, thought Demyx with a half-choke, half-sob, that the superhuman Axel with his phoenix's blood would be terrified of a crying human of all things...
"Demyx..." Roxas wasn't helping matters, either; he sounded at least as scared as Axel did. Maybe a little more sympathetic, but he wasn't moving to help Demyx, either.
But then Demyx caught a whiff of moonlight and violets, and before he could think about what was going on a soft and cool hand had taken him gently by the back of his neck, and another had wrapped around his waist, and drawn him close...close to a small and lithe body, close to the scent of moonlight, of violets, of bitter coffee and blood and darkness. Close to...
Zexion. A starving vampire...but Demyx no longer cared about that. With a great shuddering gasp, he returned Zexion's embrace, burying his face into the vampire's delicate shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around Zexion's slender back. He was still sobbing--he couldn't stop--but now Zexion was comforting him, rubbing gentle cirlces into Demyx's back, rocking him back and forth, whispering gentle words into Demyx's ear...
"It's all right, Demyx...it's all right...don't cry...no more tears...it's all right, it's all right, don't cry...everything will be all right..."
Of course, what Zexion was saying were lies, lies all, and Demyx knew this with the rational part of his mind. But most of him wasn't thinking rationally. Most of him wanted above all, with an aching deeper than his heart, to believe in Zexion's words, to believe that he'd wake up and this would all have been a horrible nightmare and he'd still have a chance to become a slayer. Most of him ached to be held and comforted, held like Axel had always refused to...
"Z-Zexy, oh God, Zexy, Ienzo, oh God, oh God, Ienzo, Zexion, oh God..." Senselessly, over and over again, Demyx whispered Zexion's name, shaking in Zexion's gentle but strong embrace. Somehow, being able to say the vampire's name, all of his names, comforted Demyx. Helped him stay fixed to the spot, helped anchor him to the earth, helped ground him. He even felt that as long as he could do this, as long as he could cling to Zexion and speak Zexion's name, everything would be all right. He could face anything. He could live through this, he could survive the brutal destruction of all his hopes and dreams...
...as long as he had Zexion.
"Zexion...oh God...when did I...how..." whispered Demyx, managing to speak more coherently now through his drying tears. He was still shaking insanely and could not trust his voice to stay even, but the overwhelming deluge of tears and misery was gone. "When...when did I...when did I come to...to depend on you...so much...?"
"I don't know, Demyx," whispered Zexion in reply. "Perhaps that day when you first told me you loved me--"
Demyx managed a bleary smile, suddenly realizing that this was the closest Zexion had ever came to a confession. Embolded by this realization, he lifted his head from Zexion's shoulder, maneuvered his arm around the vampire's slim waist, met Zexion's deep blue eyes--dark as a fathomless lake--and bent down to plant a gentle, loving, kiss on Zexion's soft, barely parted lips...
But that instant, that beautiful instant when Demyx could believe that everything was right with the world and nothing mattered but himself and Zexion, was brutally shattered by the harsh, sarcastic tones of an unfortunately familiar voice:
"My, my...isn't this romantic...?"
Zexion reacted in an instant. With uncommon strength, he pushed Demyx off of him, and a winded Demyx staggered backward, mind reeling and gasping for breath. Axel whipped his gun forward and pointed it threateningly across the plaza, and Roxas tensed--and Demyx realized that all three of them were facing the same direction, towards the head of the plaza...
Barely daring to breathe, still feeling overwhelmed, Demyx turned too--and took a horrified step backwards when he realized just who was standing on the opposite side of the plaza, his hair shining in the moonlight, his golden eyes glinting with an unpleasant light halfway between feral and triumphant...
Saix.
Another cliffhanger! Aren't I evil.
So...yeah. That's the reason that Axel's alive. Hopefully, it isn't completely lame or random...and hopefully it makes sense. Writing this, I discovered exactly how hard it is to write exposition through dialogue while at the same time keeping that dialogue natural sounding. So the explanation might not have made much sense...and I might have left bits out. Inform me if it's too confusing...
Next chapter, "Blood", will contain even more revelations (about Xemnas, this time). I'm on a roll with revelations here! Perhaps I've been influenced by Battlestar Galactica finally deciding to unspool some of its greatest mysteries...not that I'm comparing this story to Battlestar. Battlestar Galactica. What a great show. You all should watch it. Ahem, anyway, on to the preview:
Zexion lowered his head further, not wanting to endure more of the Superior's fury...and he knew, inwardly, that the Superior was right. That this was the reason why he refused to let his relationship with Demyx become just that--a relationship. Because Demyx was a human, and he was a vampire. "You're meat, the lot of you," he had said to Demyx, and that was right--that was all humans were, meat, and Demyx was too, no matter how often he might have protected Zexion, comforted Zexion, kissed Zexion, smiled and said to Zexion, "I love you"--
Funny how these previews have nothing to do with the plot...but I don't want to spoil anything. Anyway, keep reading and reviewing, thanks tons for the 200, et cetera, et cetera. I'll try to update as often as I can, but no promises.