When he knocks on the door of Naminé's new lodging, downstairs and with better access, Axel doesn't expect to have it opened by a spiky-haired boy with a scowl on his face.
"She's not seeing anyone, fuck off."

"I'm – "

"I know who you are. Fuck off to your girlfriend."

The door is slammed in his face, but Axel's not taking this, not from some bratty child who no doubt doesn't know what the hell is going on, and is randomly attacking him. He hammers on the door again.

"I said fuck off." Comes through the door, snarled, raging, but Axel has had enough, smacking the door with his fist until it opens.

"Let me in to see her."

"Fuck. Off."
"Don't start with me, kiddo, just let me in."

"Do you have any idea what's going on? She's not even here right now, she's up at the hospital getting another cast put on, because she's finally gaining some weight, because I'm sat over her making her eat, and it's all because you're a fucking asshole who couldn't be bothered to behave like a decent fucking human being. Get the fuck out, and don't come back. She doesn't want to see you, and even if she did, I sure as hell don't."

Axel steps back at the vitriol, but he's not giving up, he's not getting out of the way, because he needs to see Naminé, doesn't care if he has to wait and see her when she gets in, so he shoulders past and sits himself on one of the beds, the one which clearly isn't set up to house someone with a broken ankle.

"Who even are you, to be doing this?"

"Her brother, asshole."

Axel sighs and buries his head in his hands.

"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I was sorry."

"What, that you've ended her career, just like your girlfriend wanted?"

Axel starts at that, moving upwards and towards the kid before he realises that he's a foot taller, broader, stronger, and backs away again at the fear in those blue eyes, so much like hers.

"You don't know shit about Larxene, so don't start trying to talk like that. You even met her?"

"Don't want to, don't need to. Look, she'll be another hour or so. I'll… I'll get her to call you, okay?"

Axel shrugs – there's nothing more he can do – and walks out, feeling that gimlet stare boring into his body as he walks away, before he hears the door click shut. He's not sure he's doing the right thing, but he's damn well going to try.

Once Axel's gone, Roxas lets out a long breath and lets his hands unclench from their fists, slumping back down onto his bed in the same space his object of lust had previously occupied. He didn't know how he'd feel, seeing someone who once embodied his love of dance, but at the same time, seeing the person who has crushed his sister's dreams. She's young, she's healthy, she may dance again, but there is no telling, yet, considering how bad the break was. Roxas is appalled to realise that he still wants the redhead, still wants those broad shoulders, those plane muscles, to sink his hands into all that hair and pull him down for a kiss, to be underneath that strong, graceful body, feeling those muscles work as Axel thrusts into him – and then he gets hit with the vision of Naminé, his sister, turned into something more skeleton than living, bone reset, grimacing, crying when she is told the outcome of her fall, screaming rage and frustration into his shoulder, hands like claws in his shirt, like he was the only thing holding her together, roundly cursing Axel's name, cursing Larxene, cursing ballet. He doesn't ever want to see her like that again, and if that means never seeing Axel, never going to watch anyone dance, never taking the lover he wants, then he's prepared to do that, for her sake. He loves her like he loves no one else, and it doesn't matter, then, that he might be forced to give up everything he loves. Everything she loves may have just been stolen from her. At least he gets to choose.

Axel is surprised to realise he's shaking when he sinks back down into the stretch, Marluxia tutting behind him, and he hadn't even heard the class start, had just followed the movements, just taken his brain out of the equation and let himself dance, head up, eyes blank, gliding across the floor like he doesn't have blood and a heart, just mechanisms, slowly ticking over whilst he lets himself think. He hasn't had a call from Naminé, but he didn't really expect one, not with the venom her brother – why can't he remember his name? – levelled at him. He'd probably rather call up hit men than the person who may have ruined her chance to ever dance again, and Axel can't exactly blame him. He can't imagine he'd react any better if his hopes and chances were dashed. And whilst the little blonde is kind, generous, everything that he has always admired, she might not be able to forgive him this, no matter how lovely she is. He misses a jump, lands hard, and feels his muscles twinge all the way up his leg.

"What is this, hm? You want to end up like your Clara, you want to break bones and ruin careers for you as well? No more mistakes!"

Suddenly Marluxia's voice is too much for him, his chiding too strong, and he walks steadily over to his bag, swaps his shoes, pulls on a pair of sweats, and leaves, ignoring Marluxia's swearing behind him. He doesn't have to take this, doesn't have to be in class, it's not like they have understudies for the lower school show. He keeps walking, doesn't stop until he finds himself at the door of Larxene's lodging, crowding her back against it when she lets him in, pressing her against the wood and devouring her mouth. She doesn't seem too pleased, but quickly gets with the programme, stripping his leotard off and tumbling them both into the narrow bed, her long, lithe body stretched out beneath him, his face pressed to her cheek, panting, connected as closely as they can be, and yet he still feels empty, lost, like he's missing something. This isn't the first time they've done this, of course, but it's the first time it hasn't been a natural progression, the first time he feels he has simply come in and demanded that he can take what he wants. He feels the press of Larxene's foot at his back, and can't help but think of Naminé, her perfect arch ruined because he couldn't pay attention, because he was more used to dancing with this blonde than his little treasure who had made him practice and practice to come to school with her, rather than be left behind in that little community theatre. He is crying as he shudders, pressing himself closer, and Larxene just lies there, stroking his hair, one leg twined with his, not saying anything. Axel thinks that maybe she doesn't know what to say. He knows that he certainly doesn't.

When he's leaving Larxene's room, he walks straight out into Naminé's brother, who takes one look at him and startles back, nose wrinkling in disgust as he takes in his ruffled appearance. The boy has red-rimmed eyes, his hair is sticking up all over the place, and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week. Axel opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. What can he say to this boy, this kid who's been uprooted from home to come and look after his sister, a sister who would be fine if he'd only been paying attention and not let her land like that. The boy looks at him, vibrating with fury.

"She'll see you. If you want. If you can pull yourself away from fucking your girlfriend long enough to come visit her."

Axel winces, because of course the kid would see him now, of course he'd note that he was leaving a room in the girls' area of the lodgings, of course he would. He wouldn't be lucky and let Naminé have an unobservant brother.

"I'd love to see her." He says, honestly, because it's all he can offer, and the boy looks him up and down for a moment, before sighing.

"Let me know when, then. You want my number?"

Axel nods, pulling out his phone and realising, with a sinking feeling, that he doesn't know which name to put in.

"It's Roxas." The boy says, with a hint of amusement, "Don't worry, I didn't expect you to know."

Typing in the phone number, Axel has the distinct feeling that he's just failed a test that he didn't know he was taking. Roxas walks away, slowly, heading back towards Naminé's room, pulling a paper prescription bag out of his satchel as he reaches the door. It's a big bag, a lot of drugs, and any good feeling which might have remained after his time with Larxene is drawn right out of him by that. The blond looks up, catching Axel's eyes, and quirks his lips in a tiny smile, before vanishing inside. The sight of that, a gentle suggestion of forgiveness, warms Axel more than anyone else's body could ever have managed. He straightens up and returns to his room, getting ready for afternoon class. He isn't going to get Naminé's strength back by dancing, but equally, he's not doing anything for her by sitting around and feeling sorry for himself. Time to do what she taught him to do, and just dance, with everything he has.