Chapter 13 - Oh dearest brother

And so time went on. Days flew by like calender sheets and on every one of them was written a new letter or a new bit of knowledge. Soon, Zexion could read whole books alone and he grew faster and faster at absorbing the stories like a sponge. So Miss Venable lay the focus on the basic education, like history, art and geography. The days grew longer as the shadows on the pebble stones grew shorter and the snow baked away to give place to the ever present rain of London.

For Zexion life couldn't be happier. Of course, he still missed his sister, and every month there was a new flower on her grave. But Zexion had a feeling deep down that his sister was pleased with his current situation. She had always wanted the best for her little brother, putting his well being before her own. She had been a sister first and a woman second. He always thought about her in the early morning hours, whenthe world was grey and clean at the same time.

And it was in one of those grey hours in the early, early morning in the middle of march that his perfect world crumbled down.

It was still cold for this time. The morning winds were biting in your skin when you got the un-luck to enter the street, although there wasn't snow any more, there was still fresh ice in the ponds and on top of the river every morning. Fog swirled like ghosts through the streets, heavy detached to the ground. But the pure and bright sunlight the flew through the clouds changed this grey and dark world into a glittering place where everything was as clear as the chilly air.

Zexion entered the saloon on the first floor. Which was quite a achievement judging from the heavy loaded tray in both his arms. He balanced it carefully on one arm -quite expensive china after all, worth more than himself on a slave market- to shut the door behind him. Madam Mireille had dusted and cleaned them with great care and had let them dry over the night. She hadn't wanted to scratch the flowers with a cloth, so now Zexion brought them back into their place as an eye catcher in the saloon.

He placed the tray on the big table, turned and suddenly got aware of the tall lanky figure standing in the bright morning light in front of the huge window. Zexion inhaled sharply. The figure appeared to stand there for eternity but also to have shown up just a second before.

Zexion gulped down his fear and surprise. "Er, who are you.... sir?" he added uncertainly. Before being addressed the man had stood perfectly still... Just like a lifeless statue.

He took one step away from the window, now, with the bright and blinding light behind him Zexion could see that the man was indeed unnaturally tall. From his point of view even doubly as tall as himself. Tall, lanky, nearly painfully thin and red hair so unruly that several spikes had escaped his ponytail. A very handsome-looking gentlemen, dressed in the attire of the Parisian Upper Class.

But Zexion could not be fooled. As the guy had turned around Zexion had seen the eerie glow in his eyes, that flickered now in their sickening green, like poisonous flames in a deadly fire. He knew what this man was. And with just a look the man knew now that he was aware.

"Would you be so kind to tell Master Coerdu la Quaorix that I have arrived? He will know who I am." He spoke with a light French accent, but again Zexion couldn't be fooled. He could tell that the accent was false, but he did hear the same strong and hard tones that were so similar to the way his master spoke.

The fear for his master and the way the foreign vampire looked at him and spoke to him made him more angry than fearful. "The Master is still asleep, I fear. It has been a long night for him. But if you like I would gladly make you an appointment so you can come back at another, more adequate time." Again, Zexion hadn't noticed the cruel smile on the thin and colourless lips until it worsened.

He was sure he hadn't blinked, not even a second he would let a creature like him out of his sight. But suddenly he stood in front of him, closer than was comfortable. That smile was almost a smirk now.

"I'm very sure he'll find the... ah motivation to get up for me... whatever may have been last night." The French accent had gone, Zexion noticed. But still he was too stubborn to give in to the stranger, who made so much more a fearful vampire than his gentle master. And it had been a rough night for Demyx. He'd come back just some hours ago, clothes drenched in blood, his expression furious and a heavy, stormy sea in his eyes. He had been woken up by the noises in the entrance hall. Artur and Mireille had tried both to calm him but when they noticed Zexion Demyx had rushed up the staircase, leaving the door open for Artur to follow him. Mireille had hushed him back in his bed and had promised to explain it to him in the morning.

He'd found out that there were a handful of lower vampires in the dirtier streets and last night one had dared to disturb Demyx, who was a far better vampire than those scum.

"I don't know what you think you know about last night, sir, but my Master is in no good shape, so would you please be so kind to come back at another time?" Now the smile had for sure changed into a cruel smirk.

The vampire stepped forward. Fast. He grabbed Zexion's right wrist in an iron grip. He didn't know what he'd expected, but the hotness on the skin was sure surprising. Zexion gasped in pain and tried effortless to free himself from the deadly creature. "You have to be his new pet, Tyr knows why he always keeps humans around him." The pain was to hard to bear, his wrist grew hotter and hotter, it didn't matter how much he struggled. The strange man would still stand there tall and unmoving and smirking cruelly.

"Did your dear master forget to tell you to let me enter whenever I show up? No? Hm, not very thoughtful of him when he wants to keep you for himself. After all, we'd always shared everything we have." For the vampire it was like breaking a small twig as, with a turn of his hand, he broke every little bone in Zexion's wrist. The cry needed only a second to leave his mouth and was then drowned out by a loud crash in the wings as the white doors banging open by themselves.

Demyx rushed into the room, his face white and his expression furious. With eyes more of an animal than a human, every drop of water in the room, from all the vases and fish bowls (leaving enough water for the fish to breath) poured out of their containers and hit the lanky vampire, hard, throwing him all the way into the wall enough force that cracks formed in the white tapestry. Soaked and breathing hard, the foreigner tried to get up but with a angry flick of Demyx's hand the water changed direction and whipped him off his feet and into the corner, where he knew better than trying to get up again.

Demyx spun around and knelt down beside the huddled figure. Zexion had curled into a tight ball, protecting his injured left hand and giving whimpers and little cries of pain. As he looked Demyx in the eyes panic overtook him. He had only once before seen the sea and there was a storm raging outside. The waves were of deathly iron blue and these waves were now in his gentle master's eyes.

Demyx gently took the cringing boy in his lap, brushing his cheek absently while making soothing noises. "Sh, sh, Zexion, it's all right. Sh, did you hear a crack?" Somehow he managed to nod in his pain. "Sh, it's ok." Demyx closed his eyes to force the inner beast back into its realms, then he gently put his fingers on the boy's temples. He was delighted when Zexion went limp in his arms and the tensed muscles relaxed.

"You know-" began the man from behind, but was immediately silenced by the wild look in Demyx' eyes.

"YOU! Stay silent!" He stood, taking the light boy with him. "Zexion," he called in a soothing voice, "does it still hurt?"

"Yes master."

"Do you still feel the pain?"

"No master." Relieved, Demyx's shoulders relaxed.

He carried Zexion out of the saloon, aware that the red haired man was following them, up the stairs and into Zexion's room. With a kick he got rid of the blanket and laid the boy down. He took the broken wrist in both his hands. Behind him the door was closed.

"I came all the way from France, from Paris to you. I even travelled by ship, and you know how much I hate the thought of being surrounded by water. I took a coach as soon as I entered London. And I did all that to just see you, Dem. And that's the way you greet me?"

"Keep your foul mouth closed, Axel. How could you break the bone of one of my servants!?" Came the hissed response. He shook his head, concentrating back on Zexion then. It seemed as if only the ulna and radius were broken. Zexion's head lay facing him nd he felt observed by those clouded purple eyes. He knew that his little servant still was in there, somewhere deep. Only his thoughts were slow and that he was more of an outsider in his own body.

"It was his own fault."

"Haven't I just told you to shut up?"

So Axel was his name, but who was this odd looking stranger? A vampire, that's for sure, and a mighty one, just like Master Demyx, Zexion thought. As always when he was under his master's control he felt like he was in dream just before it ended. Now the stranger came closer and knelt down behind his master. Like snakes the long and thin arms encircled his master.

"Didn't we always share whatever we have?" He whispered into the blond hair of Demyx' neck. Zexion noticed how his master began to tremble at these words. "Like the brothers we are?"

"Go away and let me heal what you've damaged!" Demyx cried out and shoved his visitor away. He looked Zexion in the eyes, but even in his state, Zexion saw that his master must be seeing something else. He bit into the palm of his hand until it was smeared with blood and then he started massaging the injured wrist. He felt a strange and cold prickle on his skin, something entirely indescribable. As he looked up again, Zexion's breath hitched; his master was the monster he had always feared! The skin the colour of bleached bones, the inhuman features, the deadly glow in his eyes and his teeth and lips stained with crimson. Nonetheless, he did not feel threatened by him,

"Go to sleep now, Zexion, tomorrow there'll be everything fine," and so things went black again.

Demyx stood up, turned, and nailed his brother with an iron glare. "How could you dare harm my servant?!" his voice was calm, but Axel had known him long enough to hear the subtle tones in it. For one there was the not-so-well-controlled fury, then there was also the ire and hidden deeper beneath those there was the arousal.

"His blood smells as sweet as his eyes are purple. I just couldn't resist." Demyx lashed out and slammed Axel hard into the wall.

"He's absolutely forbidden! Do you hear me?! One bite and I won't hold myself back, brother or not!"

Then there crept that smirk on Axel's features again as he gently encircled Demyx' wrists. Oh, how much he loved that smirk and how fast his self control melted.

"Besides, I couldn't resist to see you that angry either," he said, changing to the language they'd spoken as humans. The tongue of their fathers. "I always love to see that in your eyes, this raging sea." His face came closer to get a better look into those pools of blue and green and iron. "And now I fear I cannot hold myself back, not with you already stained in blood." Axel leaned down, threw Demyx hard around so that he had the wall in his back now. "Let me taste you."

Demyx gave up his struggle and hugged Axel hard, gasping silently as his brother started to lick the blood from his lips. How long had it been since he'd last seen him, felt him? It seemed like centuries now. He opened his eyes a slit and took a deep breath of Axel's flavour. The breath stopped mid-way in;

Zexion still had his eyes open and wet streams of glittering tears leaped down from them. Within a second Demyx was again kneeling besides his bed. "Oh, Zexion, does it hurt so much that you can't go to sleep?" he asked while he brushed the tears away. "Wait, I will help you to bear it." He searched for the strings and put Zexion in a deep, deep sleep. He wouldn't wake up the whole next day, but perhaps it was for the best. He should remember to tell Madame Mireille about it. Or better not to; she hated Axel with a passion. Sometimes he couldn't be angry at her because of that.

"I see, I won't get what I want in here. Why is this little human so special to you?" Demyx got up once again and led Axel by the hand out of the little chamber and into his saloon. He opened the wide window and stepped out into the chilly night.

"This boy is my salvation." Axel just gave an understanding grunt. He knew him so well, only that sentence would be enough for him. Still, he was mad at him.

"How old are we?"

"What?"

"You heard me"

"Why the heck are you asking me something like that in a situation like this?"

"The boy had asked me, I was surprised I can't name the years."

Axel was silent for some time and let his gaze wander over the sleeping city as well. "Since the day that that witch Jenova... that Mother changed us into what we are now, 674 years have passed."

"Plus the 18 years of our mortal lives, we are 692 years old. Wow."

"Yup."

The silence settled for a time over them until Demyx leaned his head on Axel's shoulder. "I'm glad you came. Of course I'm still mad about what you did to little Zexion, but I just realise now how much I missed you."

Axel smiled warmly and hugged his brother with one arm. Then his smile turned into a lustful grin that Demyx didn't need to see to know of its presence.

Whuiii~ I was so looking forward to this change!

Axel's just the perfekt bad guy, I love to picture him as an ass xD The reason I made him Demyx' brother here will be revieled later in the story. Some of you have already asked who this ominous brother could be Demyx was talking about. Ah, Axel, he's still my love, of course I couldn't go with this sotry without him :)

Oh, and he'll turn hotter with every new chapter xD