(A/N: I know, I'm the worst. I take forever to put up the next chapter, and when I do, it's short as hell. I'm hitting a little bit of a writer's block, but I'm going to try and work through it. I want to get as much done of this fanfiction as possible before November, where I'll be taking a month-long hiatus for NaNoWriMo. So hopefully we can get 1-2 new chapters up by then! I'll be sure to leave with an excellent cliffhanger for us to pick up in December. Anyway, hope you enjoy!)

CHAPTER X

SUMMER MEMORY

It didn't matter what they wanted to see.
He thought he saw someone that looked just like me.
A summer memory that just never dies,
We worked too long and hard to give it no time.

Daft Punk feat. Julian Casablancas, "Instant Crush"
Random Access Memories

As sweet as Nissa had been to Sheridan, she was ruthless in the destroyed yard of Villain's Vale, occupied only by enormous, broken-off bits of castle wall, the two of them, and the newest resident of the Vale, Mariko. He wasn't convinced the day was even half-over when he collapsed on the dusty rock for a five-minute break, his white hair sticking to his forehead with thick sweat.

Mariko didn't look any worse for the wear, but at least she could throw her gray hair up into a stubby ponytail, where Sheridan's hair wasn't quite long enough yet for hairbands. She sat down next to him with care, her thin legs trembling as she slowly lowered herself to the flat of the boulder. "Regret offering to help Nissa yet?" he asked her between breaths.

He was kidding, but Mariko answered him seriously, "It's worth it to be a Somebody again."

Sheridan cocked his head to the left. Nissa must have promised Mariko she would help her restore her heart, too. How many hearts had she promised? Where did she plan on finding these missing hearts?

Mariko looked down at the longbow resting across her lap which Nissa had gotten for her. She thought she must have taken archery classes at some point in her life, because she picked up the motions wickedly fast. It was a mesmerizing weapon despite its less intimidating appearance compared to Tramontane. The weapon was as tall as Mariko was, with a glimmering, silvery tightly-drawn string connecting the legs of the deep black bow. On first glance, it was only black, but when stared at closely, one could see powdery, floating masses of color peppered with glittery white spots, like the stars in deep space.

"Araceli was strong," said Sheridan, mostly just to break the silence, "but you mastered that bow so quickly, you won't have a problem."

"Thanks," Mariko said, though Sheridan could hardly tell if she was smiling. With her right hand, she hiked the silver strap of her quiver higher up her shoulder. In the black container, the arrows, with jewel-colored shafts of jade, ruby, and amethyst, bounced from the movement. Sheridan could see the silver-feathered fletchings at the end, but not the similarly-colored, lethally-pointed arrowheads which clunked at the bottom of the quiver.

Nissa had encouraged Mariko to save those arrows for times of desperation and to, instead, form arrows from magic—lightning arrows, fire arrows, ice arrows. Mariko had managed to form a fire arrow after an hour of concentration, but it disappeared when she jumped at not having felt any sort of heat on her hands.

It was more than Sheridan could do. He found he couldn't summon magic at all in the presence of these women. He wondered if their attendance made him nervous (they were both beautiful women), or if he had to be in some sort of danger to perform best.

Nissa summoned them back up. Sheridan could hardly believe he had been sitting for a full five minutes—the sweat on his brow hadn't even dried—but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't know how she planned to do it, but he trusted Nissa to restore them to their previous selves.

Then, he thought, gazing over at Mariko, with her gray hair like a loose, wavy curtain over her left eye, her tanned skin slathered in a layer of sweat, and her short, white kimono and its charcoal-flowered sash, he could understand his connection with Mariko and maybe—maybe—nothing else would really matter.

xxx

Silas was about to open his mouth and suggest the two of them go in after Araceli before a thunderous roar of crashes, impossibly heavy, shook the open cavern, sending bats—regular bats, as all the Heartless had disappeared from the world with the sealing of the keyhole—and loose pebbles dropping from the ceiling.

He glanced over at Dylan, whose sea green eyes widened to perfect circles, his hand, ruffling through his auburn hair, stopped in its tracks. The other boy didn't have to speak for Silas to guess what he was going to say next. "Araceli."

They both turned on their heels toward the entrance to the cavern where Araceli disappeared, but before they could approach the opening, Araceli, in a blurry, gray mass, darted out, death-gripping her staff, screaming, "Clear!"

Silas wasn't quite sure what she meant, but followed Dylan's lead and backed out, giving her space. Not five seconds after her command, the edges of the cavern entrance burst open, and gray-purple boulders, gravel, and stone exploded in every direction. One such rock smacked Silas in the cheek, but he managed to deflect the subsequent offenders by covering his face with his arms. His legs, wrists, and chest already felt bruised up pretty badly.

It was nothing compared to Araceli, who seemed to sport at least one cut, scrape, or bruise in every square inch of her body. Her short, dark brown hair was in disarray atop her head, and her dress, still slightly blood-stained from Yen Sid's message, was frayed at the edges of her bell-shaped sleeves.

Silas could hardly believe what had followed her here, but didn't have the time or energy to question his sanity after the last couple of days he'd had: it was a giant, black, three-headed dog, each head with pointed teeth as long as his arm and glowing, red eyes.

"Good doggie," Dylan muttered beside him.

"Didn't find it," Araceli said, out of breath, her eyes flickering to every corner of the opening, as if trying to decide their next step.

"We did," Dylan told her. "It's sealed."

"Then we have to go." Araceli grabbed Dylan's wrist, clearly expecting Silas to follow, and they headed toward the opening through which they had arrived at the fork in the cave.

Silas was about to argue that they should fight this thing, until he saw how injured Araceli was and realized he would have to be about twice as competent as he was in order to pick up the slack and fill the hole that Araceli's skills left. Instead, he decided, she was right: they had to run.

All three heads of the giant dog snapped in their direction as their legs carried them through the Underworld as absolutely quickly as they possibly could. The creature's barking and roaring caused the hell around them to tremble and groan like a waking giant. At one point, its paw nearly grazed the back of Silas's leg, and he thought for sure that he would be torn apart and Araceli and Dylan would leave his body there to rot in that place.

It was so much longer, thought Silas as the minutes ticked by and his muscles burned beneath his skin, leaving the Underworld, than it had been as they explored deep within. Were they running in circles? Had they really ventured so deep into this place?

Finally they reached the entrance to the Coliseum, through which the three-headed dog refused to follow them through. Silas was dripping wet with perspiration, which the hot, hot sun from above ground only exacerbated. Dylan collapsed on the sand, his back rising and falling with his quick breath, and Silas couldn't help but follow in his footsteps, his jelly legs folding beneath him.

"Curaga," Araceli muttered, raising her staff the small bit she could be bothered to lift it from the ground, and the familiar, healing plant of the spell began stitching and patching them up in cool relief. Silas hadn't realized the fracture on his cheekbone was so painful until the pain was finally gone. Araceli was once again unmarked by solo journey through the Underworld.

"What the fuck did you do," Dylan asked as soon as he had the energy, "to piss of Cerberus?"

"Existed in his space," Araceli muttered. She shook her head, performing some other kind of bizarre magic on her dress. Before Silas's eyes, it cleaned itself up, and the seams stitched themselves together. This magic nonsense really was fascinating, but he never expected himself to get as good at it as Araceli was.

"No Sheridan," said Silas.

She shook her head. "We'll have to just keep going as we're going," she said, "sealing keyholes and hoping we run into him, or find the wizard."

"Any chance we could relax first?" Silas asked.

He didn't expect Araceli to take his suggestion seriously, but she said, "We can rest on the Gummi Ship on the way to the next closest world. Then we can find somewhere to eat and recuperate."

Silas glanced back over at Dylan, who moped silently as he pushed his face off of the sand, wiped it away from where it stuck to his sweat, and hiked his gun up over his shoulder. The two of them followed Araceli back to where she parked the Gummi Ship at the periphery of the coliseum entrance, where it seemed to be undisturbed.

xxx

"You're in such deep trouble," said Nico, shaking his head. The metal at the bottom of the cargo bed was hard and uncomfortable beneath him, but Silas had already stolen the blanket he stashed away in there to rest on. Nico didn't want to touch it, anyway; he already had a pretty good idea of where that blanket has been.

"Jason got lucky I'm in such a good mood today," said Silas in a mumble, holding his nemesis's black spray paint can in his hand and holding it above his head, twisting and turning it in each direction so the park's lamppost light gleamed off of the silver edges. "I should've sent him to the hospital for tagging my car."

"That seems like an extreme reaction," said Nico. It was harder to see the stars above them here with how well-lit the park was. "How's your hand?"

Silas uncurled and curled his fingers, holding them up beside the spray paint can. Gashing red marks dotted each of his knuckles from the impact with Jason's jaw. "Fine," he said, squinting slightly. Nico knew he was lying—his friend wouldn't admit to being in pain, even though Nico knew he had never been in a real fight in his life before.

"We should get some paint tomorrow," he suggested.

"Why?"

"To paint over the tag," Nico said, eyebrows furrowing, thinking it was pretty obvious. After all, Jason and his friends had spray painted a rather ugly black lightning bolt across one side, as well as some nonsense words (half of which were illegible) on the other side, and Silas was always so insistent that his first car be pure, cherry red.

"Nah, I'm going to keep it," he said, giving a small nod, and pushing himself up to a sitting position, leaning back on his hands. "Don't want them to think I care enough to get it fixed."

Nico just about stammered, pushing some of his dark hair out of his face. "But it's so… it's so ugly."

Silas burst out in laughter. "She's beautiful no matter what. Spray paint can't fuck up true beauty." He continued laughing as Nico pushed his right arm, nearly causing him to fall back down upon his gross sex blanket.

"I'm just saying my uncle can probably get you a discount on paint."

But Silas shook his head. "If anything, this tag was a gift. When was the last time you got a free can of spray paint?" he asked, tossing the can between his left and right hands for a minute. Suddenly, he pointed it directly at Nico where he laid. "Put 'em up, or I'll shoot," he threatened.

Nico scoffed as Silas rearranged himself so he hovered atop his friend, spray paint pointed directly at his heart. "Don't test me, Nicodemus!" he boomed. "I am above the law! I'm the one with the spray paint!"

"Shut up," he said, unable to contain his laughter anymore.

"Die, vandal!" he screamed, and sprayed Nico right in the chest. He couldn't even be mad that his last clean shirt was now blackened in the chest. The fumes dizzied him and only made him laugh even harder.

Nico found, as his laughter died, and Silas's continued, that he could see the small glimmer of tears in the corner of his eyes where he squeezed them shut to keep out the black paint. His lips were curled in a huge grin around perfectly straight, white teeth that had never had to see the gnarly, metallic pull of braces, like his own. His golden, dirty-blond hair, usually immaculate and in-place, was an untidy mess framing his oval-shaped face.

He could smell Silas from here—that spicy, warm-smelling cologne he had been wearing since high school began, with faint undertones of stale weed still clinging to the cotton fibers of his shirt. Nico thought maybe he could also get a hint of his shampoo from here, the coconut one his sister left behind and Silas used whenever he ran out of his own.

In that moment, drowning in the smell of the spray paint and the smell of Silas, and the hard metal digging against his spine, Nico forgot about painting over his best friend's car, forgot about the time his mom was expecting him home, and forgot about what kind of trouble they could be in when Jason told his parents what happened out there at the park. He thought maybe nothing else really mattered.

Nico felt his heart pumping. Without thinking, he pushed upwards against Silas's chest, urging him away.

"Dude, what's wrong?" asked Silas, his laughter fading slowly.

"Gotta get home," was all he could say as he hopped out of the cargo bed and made his way into the passenger's seat. The drive home was quiet.

xxx

"Morning, sunshine," Araceli said, sporting an unusual grin, before Silas could even fully interpret her words. "You pulled a Dylan."

Of course, in the seat in front of him, Dylan was dead asleep, snoring faintly. "Long day," Silas said as a sort of lame excuse, feeling almost embarrassed for having judged Dylan so much for falling asleep during the Gummi Ship rides only to do the same.

To be fair, it had been a long day.

"It's fine," said Araceli. "We're almost there."

"Where are we going?" Silas asked.

"A place called Halloween Town," Araceli told him. "It was one of the first worlds I visited after leaving my home world, so I know it pretty well. We should be able to get to the keyhole pretty quickly, and then rest."

Rest. Even after sleeping for who-knows-how-long, Silas liked the sound of that. He could also really go for more of Queen Minnie's food, but wasn't about to suggest they go all the way back to Disney Castle (though he did wonder how King Mickey was doing).

"Hey Araceli," he began, "do you dream a lot?"

Araceli, with her right hand, felt at the pocket on her dress. She pursed her lips together. "Sometimes," Araceli finally answered. "Usually, no. Why?"

"Do you ever mix up something you dreamed with what's real?" he asked, thinking back to the summer memory he was almost positive really happened… but wasn't sure. It was as if he was watching from another perspective. He thought for a moment he was there as Nico, but that couldn't be true, could it?

Of course it couldn't be true. Did that night even happen? It wasn't more than a couple of years ago. He was still groggy, he decided. It was too soon after waking up.

"Sometimes," she said, which made him feel better. "Usually if I can take a couple of minutes to contemplate it, I'll find that I can better sort out my dreams from my memories."

Silas almost expected it. Araceli reached down beneath her chair and pulled out a small, silver flask. She took a pull from it, and scooted it back beneath her chair, keeping her eyes on the road as if nothing had even happened. He thought maybe the dull roar of the engine and Dylan's rhythmic snoring would lull him back to sleep, until the Gummi Ship slowed and they began to touch down on Halloween Town.

xxx

Sheridan barely had half a good night's sleep before Nissa had emerged, knocking on both his and Mariko's door in the dead of night. He'd rolled out of his bed, in which he'd fallen asleep to the gentle hum of Mariko's breathing on the other side, and ran his hands over his face. He glanced at the clock beside his bed, situated atop the book he had, once again, pretended to read before drifting off to sleep. It was just past one in the morning.

When had he fallen asleep? Ten? Eleven? It wasn't nearly enough time.

By the time Sheridan emerged in the hallway, Mariko was already dressed up, back in her kimono, and rubbing her eyes in a similar, desperate attempt to stay awake as Sheridan had.

"I went into town," said Nissa, holding up some sort of small device that reminded Sheridan of a USB stick, "and found this. On it is a program that works as a Gummi Ship radar; there aren't a lot of ships out there these days, so if we could pinpoint which ship is Araceli's, we could find her whenever we need." She paused. "We just need a computer."

"Do you ever sleep?" asked Sheridan, finding that his filter wasn't fully-functioning this early in the morning.

Nissa was smiling, dangling the stick from a small rope on her right hand. "Nope," she said. "I bought it off of someone who said the technology was out-of-date, but I think it'll work just fine, especially if we can find some updates for it."

Mariko said, "Where can we find a computer?" Sheridan couldn't help but admire her work ethic when, by anyone's standards, after such a long day of training, the two of them should have at least been given a full eight hours to sleep.

The blond woman tapped her small chin with the first two fingers of her right hand. "I only know of one," she said, "and it's not far."