"Roxas! Shit, Rox, get up! You're gonna miss it!"

Axel's voice jolted Roxas out of his peaceful position, lying with his eyes closed, listening to the wind waxing and waning like a rhythmic wave. Axel had gone uncharacteristically quiet in the last few minutes, and Roxas had relaxed in his presence, even when he'd heard the soft rustling behind him and felt the pair of warm arms lifting him up and encircling his waist. Instead, he'd merely smiled softly, an incoherent murmur on his lips, shifting to curl more comfortably against the strangely cozy wall behind him. Cozy and contented, Roxas only barely perceived the way the wall was rising and ebbing in a way that rivaled the breaths and sighs of the wind.

Now the hands were on his shoulders, pulling him upright and shaking him gently.

Roxas groaned at the absence of a human pillow. "Five more minutes…"

"Come on, Rox. Open your eyes...Please?"

A warm hand was suddenly on Roxas's face, prying at his eyelid. His right eye forced open, Roxas found, through the jostling of his line of vision, bright green eyes boring into his. Roxas swatted at Axel's arm.

"Okay, I'm up. I'm up." He rubbed at his eyes, stifling a yawn. "What is it?"

"Jeez, finally," Axel breathed, leaning back on his heels. He seemed to eye Roxas quizzically for a second, looking amused. Roxas immediately moved to wipe his sleeve against his chin, wondering briefly and with great horror if he'd accidentally drooled on Axel in his sleep. Hadn't he had enough embarrassment for one day? His hand then shot up to his hair, attempting to smooth it back into some semblance of normalcy.

Axel merely waited, saying nothing. When Roxas had finished fidgeting about his appearance, Axel placed his hand lightly under Roxas's chin—which, to Roxas's chagrin, tickled a bit—directing it toward the train tracks. "Hear the train, way down there?" He gestured to somewhere off in the distance.

Roxas blinked rapidly, squinting through the film of grogginess clouding his eyes. His eyes centered on a small speck, chugging sluggishly but tirelessly towards them. It was then that Roxas noticed how dark it was getting out, noticing the sun barely visible beyond the horizon. How long had he been out for?

"Yeah?"

"Well," Axel said, a sober look overcoming his face. He leaned in closely, a look of intensity on his face. "The legend says that the train that comes through here at sunset—" he paused, his eyes shining with something that Roxas couldn't quite place. He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice dramatically. "No driver, no conductor, no passengers…no return."

Roxas tutted, shoving Axel hard on the chest, laughing. "You asshole, you woke me up for that? That's just an urban legend." He shook his head, the smile still taking quiet residence on his lips. Axel was something else. A total quack, but, something else.

Axel narrowed his eyes, his smile precariously poised on one side of his face. "You're one of those people who don't clap for Tinkerbell, aren't you?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "What does that have to do with anything? Besides, that's a children's story. Tinkerbell gets better no matter what!" He retorted.

"Still, you would've let her die, you heartless bastard. You don't believe enough in magic."

"Hey, I am not heartless," Roxas fired back.

"Really?" Axel asked, leaning in closer. He grinned. "Prove it."

Roxas was suddenly acutely aware of how close Axel's face was. He was even more acutely aware of how close Axel's lips were to his. Not to mention the slew of rather suggestive and disturbing images that pervaded Roxas's mind as he considered the actual implications of what Axel was asking him for. Roxas's mouth went impossibly dry.

"Wha-wait—I, uh, I don't—"

Axel snickered, ruffling Roxas's hair playfully. "Best magic trick yet—how to make Roxie's knowledge of the English language disappear."

"Shut up."

Roxas could feel his face heating up again as he stood up, turning deliberately away from Axel as he pretended to be preoccupied with dusting himself off. For a second he could hear the pulsating rhythm of his heartbeat buzzing loudly in his ear. That's when he realized the noise wasn't coming from the mutinous thing beating in his chest; it was coming from just up the train tracks.

The two leaned forward in mutual fascination, a wordless stillness falling between them. Roxas attempted to lean onto the tips of his toes, craning a little to be able to peer into the windows of the train from where he was standing. He briefly envied how mutantly tall Axel was. In the brief moment before the train came into view, Roxas found himself sucking in a breath. He didn't know why he was suddenly acting so anxious to see the train. It wasn't like it was really going to be some kind of ghost train...was it? God, was he really buying into Axel's stupid story now? Jesus Roxas, first the depleted brain cells and drugged coffee, and now what? Falling under Axel's weird voodoo spell?

And suddenly it was there, crossing in front of them. Roxas's eyes immediately scoured the train, zeroing in on a man shielded behind the slightly fogged glass of the front window. He held a radio mouthpiece in one hand, and, as the train grated to a screeching stop, he waved briefly at them with the other hand. Roxas let out the breath, not realizing that he'd been holding it for so long. Something in his chest burned as he looked at the not-so-ghost train. The doors of the train opened, a spare few individuals filing out. Roxas looked at Axel.

"This is your ghost train?"

Axel shrugged, putting his weight in one bony hip. "You just didn't believe hard enough. You didn't clap for Tinkerbell."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Oh, so it's my fault your crackpot theory fell through?"

"Yeah. I mean, I can throw all the pixie dust I want at you, but my little Roxie won't fly unless he gets over himself and believes in a little magic."

Roxas moved to sock Axel in the arm, but instead Axel merely caught his hand.

"It's okay though, you're still my favorite little cynic," he said, punctuating the end of the sentence with a quick kiss on Roxas's captive hand before releasing it.

"Yeah, and you're my favorite fantasist," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he moved to wipe his hand off on his shirt. He tried to drown out the odd tingling feeling that was permeating his hand, but before he could figure out how to do so, Axel was taking and reclaiming his hand yet again and pulling him forward.

"Come on, we're gonna miss the train."

Before Roxas could begin to voice confusion or protest or any of the barrage of emotions that were running through his head, Axel was already pulling (more like dragging) him through the open doors and onto the train. Jeez, for someone built like a twig, Axel was surprisingly strong…And since when had he been considering Axel's build, anyway? He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts.

As they sat down, Roxas looked around at the sparsely populated train. Of the few people that were on the train, many of them asleep or staring off with unfocused eyes, he recognized none of them. Slightly unsettled by the foreign atmosphere, Roxas was again plagued by thoughts of distrust. He still had no idea who this guy was—a redhead with piercing green eyes and teardrop tattoos…which, by the way, weren't those for murderers?—and yet he was letting him drag him to all sorts of foreign places…possibly to never return again, for all he knew.

"…no return"

Axel's whispered tale about the ghost train echoed in his head. To Roxas, as it bounced ominously around in his head, it sounded more like a warning. Yes, Axel seemed nice, and yes, Axel graduated from the same school as him, but that didn't mean anything. Maybe he was just a very elaborate planner, befriending his intended victims—and buying them coffee and kissing them— before kidnapping them.

Roxas squirmed a little, having been reminded of the previous night. He couldn't really be sure—he'd never kissed a murderer or kidnapper, or really anyone for that matter—but he somehow doubted it would be like that. It would've been rough or drawn blood or something, maybe. But it hadn't been anything like that. And no matter how many times Roxas tried to imagine Axel looking evil and murderous, the image that kept coming up was the way Axel had looked at him right before he'd kissed him. It wasn't cold or calculating or any of those things. It was just soft, sandwiched somewhere in the spectrum between awe and longing. It made something stir inside Roxas's chest.

Roxas turned to look at Axel, who was sitting backwards in his seat on his knees, peering out the window, his hands placed against the glass. Honestly, he didn't look like he was planning anything, Roxas thought. In fact, he just looked…childlike and… happy. Like someone who still believes in Tinkerbell, he thought.

It was then that Axel turned to look back at him. For some reason, Roxas didn't look away in embarrassment, despite knowing that Axel had caught him blatantly staring at him. A smile snaked its way onto his lips instead.

Axel pulled on a matching smile. He settled down into his seat. A comfortable silence settled over them. When he finally spoke, it came softly.

"You know, today was supposed to be the day that I headed back out of town. I figured I wouldn't really want to hang around too long after the…uh, funeral services were over." He took a measured breath, reaching out and smoothing a piece of Roxas's hair.

Roxas couldn't bring himself to mind. He merely nodded.

"Apparently I forgot to account for the freak chance of meeting a cute blond that would want nothing to do with me," he smiled, before continuing. "…and that I would want everything to do with."

A tiny part of Roxas warmed at this, feeling the sudden impulse to kiss Axel, but the majority of Roxas's thoughts overruled and he quickly repressed it—thank God, for once his body was acting like a democracy again. What he didn't understand was—why him? Axel had said himself that he went to school with Sora, his better half, according to just about everyone else. Why hadn't he pulled out all the romantic stops on him? I mean, they even looked the same…only Sora was the one with the glowing smile, and the mile long list of friends, and the amazing sports track record and the stellar grades. Roxas was just...Roxas. He rolled his eyes, souring on the idea. Axel and Sora. He shuddered.

"Axel, we barely know each other. You're a stranger. Why do you act like you care so much?"

Roxas thought he saw hurt flash through Axel's eyes for a moment. Roxas's chest seized a little, feeling suddenly apologetic. He blinked at Roxas, his face blank. It looked strange—Axel not smiling at him.

"Well, I may be a stranger to you, but you're not exactly a stranger to me."

Roxas furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Sorry, that came out weird. I didn't, like, stalk you or anything." He smiled sheepishly. "But before I graduated, I saw you around school all the time, usually hanging around with your group of friends. You know, the cute brunette girl, the kind of chubby one, and the blond one?"

Roxas nodded, a little taken aback. "Olette, Pence, and Hayner," he said quietly, more to himself than to Axel.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I mean, sure, you were pretty cute then, too, but, more than that, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew you somehow. Ah, hell, that sounds weird, too, doesn't it?" He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I felt like you reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago or something. I did briefly consider flunking so I could hang around a year longer, but you probably don't go for the deadbeat type."

Roxas shook his head too, smiling a little. For some reason, he was thinking about that dream he'd had a few days ago, filled with fire and brimstone and ending with his head cradled in the safety of the soft dewy grass. He looked at Axel, his red hair spiked precariously like crawling flames, his green eyes shining. For some reason, he understood what Axel meant.

"Well, you know me now, I guess," he breathed.

"Yeah," Axel agreed, smiling. "Yeah I do."

He reached over, lacing his fingers in Roxas's. Roxas did nothing, merely sat and let it happen, still thinking quietly about the dream. All of the emotions in that dream reminded him of being around Axel. The fear, the anxiety, the nerves, but also the calm, the security, the familiarity. He leaned over, laying his head against the crook between Axel's shoulder and collar bone. He didn't know why, but it felt right.

"So…where are we going, again?"