CHAPTER EIGHT

Roxas's conditions were fairly simple for the meeting with Demyx. None of that 'public area, plenty of space' crap. No, Roxas insisted on going somewhere familiar, somewhere quiet, and somewhere it wouldn't matter if things went… awry.

Despite scowling at the implication, Axel went along with it. No zipping or unzipping this time; he and Roxas left on foot under the concerned and wary eyes of Sora and Riku, respectively. Working phone booths were rare, but not quite yet obsolete, and Roxas was able to lead them one with his phone's GPS. 'No traceable electronics' had been among the conditions. Since Axel's phone had been sitting in his locker at work this entire time, that hadn't been an issue up until now, but that changed when Roxas had refused to let him use his own phone to contact Demyx. The enemy had an IT department, apparently. Or maybe this was the sort of shit Ansem did – Axel wouldn't have put it past him.

The two of them squeezed into the booth, nearly blacked out by all the graffiti on the glass panels, Axel picked up the bulky, black receiver and hesitantly placed a couple of coins into the slot. The sound was strange – another decade reaching across town – as it trilled in his ear. It was answered quickly, despite being an unknown number on Demyx's phone: "Hello?" Demyx sounded almost breathless. Then, "Axel?" and Axel's heart nearly broke, because there was such hope and dread in that one word. He let out a gasp, leaning hard against the wall, hand gripping the receiver so hard that it hurt.

"Demyx!" he rasped, and it sounded… well, almost the same, really. Hope and dread. The potential for such relief, or such despair.

There was an almost incomprehensible screaming babble on the other end, made all the worse by the crackle of old technology. Then, eventually, through the blaring, he heard, with joy and gratitude, "Axel! Axel, oh my god. Oh, my god, where are you? Are you all right? Where have you been? No one's seen you for days, your work called me up and said you'd just left everything behind and – and –" He seemed to break down into tears, Axel squeezing his eyes shut before sending a raw look Roxas's way. He could hear it. It was so loud, he could hear it, too. Roxas met his gaze, but helplessly just shook his head.

"Demyx," he tried to catch his friend's attention, but when this didn't quite break through the weeping, he said, more sharply, "Demyx!"

There was a small breath, before Demyx demanded, "Where are you? I'll come to you, wherever you are."

"No," Axel said, through his teeth, one hand squeezing the phone box so tightly that it made Roxas touch his shoulder, but he flinched away, in no mood for comfort. "Are you home? I'll come to you."

Roxas's reasoning was that his own apartment could potentially be under surveillance by Xemnas's people for his return, if indeed Demyx was one of them. By turning that on its head, they had a better chance of getting Axel to Demyx without anyone possibly coming to back him up, though the very thought was so bitter that Axel had rejected it immediately upon Roxas's suggestion. He'd go to Demyx. And you know what, recent events as they'd been, he could believe in gods, and hell, why not demons and spirits while they were at it. But the line was drawn at Demyx having other people around to help him to subdue Axel.

"I – are you sure?" Demyx sounded confused, but acquiesced, "Sure, come here. You're – you're okay, right?"

"I'm okay, Dem," Axel told him, head sagging deep towards the ground. "I'm okay. I'll see you real soon, okay?" He hung the phone up quietly, stood still for a moment, then turned and started punching the fibreglass phone booth siding until his knuckles split and Roxas was able to yank him away. They tumbled out of the booth, Axel panting furiously, staring at his shaking, claw-like hand, the flesh bleeding fast and free.

Roxas started cursing and tossed his hoodie on the ground, peeling off his shirt and wrapping it tightly around Axel's hand, not caring that it hurt. "So you're one of those guys, huh?" he asked, distastefully. "Good to know. I'll have Sora reinforce the walls with metal plating." Once he was done, he picked his hoodie back up, flapped it out a couple times, then zipped it up, shivering with the lost layer of warmth now wound firmly around Axel's hand. Axel glared at him, wanting, needing a target for the rage coursing through him right now, but his knuckles stung from the fabric of that shirt, and Roxas… shit, Roxas couldn't be it.

Upon realising this, he deflated. Roxas eyed him, then said, not without sympathy, "You're on your own from here. I'll scout ahead and be watching. I'll be with you, even if you can't see me." He unzipped the world, gaze locked with Axel, then disappeared in the span of a blink. None of the passers-by who had been giving them a wide berth as they had their weird-ass lover's spat in the middle of the sidewalk seemed to notice, or care. What the fuck was up with that. He looked around at them, but they just avoided eye contact and kept going. He just… didn't get this god shit.

Oh. That was why Sora called it that. Yeah. Good choice.

He returned to the phone booth and called for an Uber, then stood shivering in the brisk autumn air, wishing he was in more than the white tee that Roxas had grabbed for him and the cycling shorts he'd been wearing when he'd turned up. God, he'd have accepted one of Roxas's hoodies at this point, even if the arms were probably only as long as his elbows. Although if Riku was a frequent enough visitor, maybe he had some clothes in Sora's room that Axel could poach. Damn, he wished he'd thought of that sooner.

The Uber arrived, and he climbed in and gave directions to Demyx's, paying when they arrived with Riku's credit card, which Roxas had got Sora to swipe for them. It had to be a twin thing or something, because as far as Axel could tell, Sora was just as obviously in love with Riku as Riku was with him. But not, apparently, above petty theft.

Slowly, he climbed out of the pleasantly heated insides of the Uber car and back into the cold. The car pulled away, leaving Axel standing on the sidewalk, staring up at Demyx's building with such a rampant chaos of emotions he could have happily turned right around and left again, but he didn't remember Roxas's address.

He didn't know… if he wanted this anymore. He'd thought he'd wanted to know, but now that he was here, he wasn't so sure. What if. What if.

But… the sound of Demyx's voice on the phone. It had sounded so real; so Demyx. There was no way some god of war gave a shit what Axel's wellbeing was, and he couldn't have made Demyx sound that convincing just on his own. No one acted that well. And especially not Demyx, who wore his whole heart and head on his sleeve, so you not only knew what he was feeling, you could also see his thought processes at all times. He was a simple, sweet, funny guy that had been like a brother to Axel since they were kids. You couldn't fake Demyx, not even if you were wearing his body. Axel would have known immediately. That had been Demyx on the phone, and Demyx had been frantic because for three days no one in the regular world had any idea what had happened to him. It must have been like he up and vanished into thin air. He'd even made his delivery.

He couldn't leave Demyx wondering. The Demyx on the phone… he was waiting for Axel.

So he forged forward, heart pounding harder with every step closer he got to Demyx's door, barely able to rap against the wood before it was flying open, a thoroughly sleep-deprived and dishevelled Demyx on the other side gaping at him with wonder and disbelief. Then, he shrieked, "Axel!" and leapt into his arms, nearly crushing him with his arms, making Axel choke and stagger under his weight. Then he was gripping him back, fiercely, and he set Demyx down and they just… kept hold of one another, hugging so tightly it was starting to hurt, but it felt so natural that they just remained that way for a while.

Axel became aware that Demyx was crying slightly. He always had been quick to tears. He was wiping his eyes around Axel's shoulder, sniffing in his ear and making him chuckle, because it wasn't the first time he'd heard that sniff, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be the last. He gave Demyx one more squeeze, then softened, the blond doing the same. They parted, but Demyx now started patting him down, asking worriedly, "You're sure you're okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" He found Axel's shirt-bandaged hand and stopped abruptly. Eyes wide, he asked Axel, "What's this?"

Shaking his head, Axel said, "I did that to myself. Punched a wall again."

Immediate understanding. Damn it, he really was 'one of those guys'. He really hoped Sora wouldn't actually install metal panels into their walls. He was just as good at fixing up holes in walls as he was at making them, and he really didn't do it that often. Demyx tugged him inside and closed the door, hugging him again once it was shut, a gentler hug this time. It felt funny to be hugging someone his own height again – he had been getting used to Roxas's stature. He returned the grip, inhaling the scent of Demyx, unmistakeable, inimitable. Demyx was just… Demyx.

Demyx's eyes were still watery when they finally let go of each other, but he was wearing a smile. "Thank goodness you're safe," he said. Then he shoved Axel. Oh, yeah. Same old Demyx. "I was – so worried about you," Demyx told him severely. "Where were you all this time? You didn't even take your phone! I know, because I have it, after your manager called me to come clear out your locker!"

Axel groaned. "Seriously? Wait." He frowned and did the math, gut sinking. "Does that mean I got fired that afternoon?"

"If you mean the afternoon you decided to stop being a courier, then yeah, it was that afternoon." Demyx planted his hands on his hips, looking Axel up and down, a little incredulous at his outfit. He shook his head. "That was three days ago. I've been frantic, and look at you. Where have you been? What were you doing?"

"I… just needed a break," he said, a vague excuse thought up by he and Roxas beforehand. "The stress just kind of got to me, and I needed some space."

"Space? Really?" Demyx sounded unimpressed, then went over to the bookshelf, bent down, and pulled out the one thing Axel had forgotten to take into account. Ah. He recognised that case. "Including from your violin? You left your violin in your locker at work, to vanish for days, without a single word to anyone? Uh-uh." He shook his head. "Not buying it. Why are you lying to me, man? It's me. It's Demyx. When have we ever had to lie to each other?" He asked it with confusion, but like… was it just Axel, or was there a little bit too much confusion?

No. That was dumb. How could Demyx be too confused, when he was making an extremely good fucking point. "…It was the pressure of the rehearsals," he tried to bluff. "I got scared, so I ditched it for a while."

He might as well have told Demyx he had taken a magic carpet ride to the moon. He was genuinely puzzled now. "Why… are you lying?"

Axel sucked on his lips, thinking fast, then threw up his hands and declared, "I met someone." It was, at the very least, a partial-truth, the timing was just a little different.

"You… met someone," Demyx echoed, sounding irritated now. He crossed his arms, tapping a foot. "You met someone, and you decided to what? Spend the next three days fucking in some skeezy motel room? Is that why you're dressed like… that?" He waved a disparaging hand at Axel's attire. Another good point, and a sound conclusion to reach. He was wondering exactly when it was that Demyx was supposed to start acting like the puppet of a god, because so far all he had done was behave… exactly like someone whose best friend vanished off the face of the planet for three days. Demyx was suddenly wiping his hands over his face. "Oh, my god, and I made a police report and everything. Shit. I should've waited longer." He glared and pointed accusingly at Axel. "It's your fault! You, leaving everything at work, not even taking your phone, leaving your – your violin…" His voice quavered slightly, the tears back and ready to fall. "And it's because you met someone?" He shook his head, at a loss, and Axel hugged him. Demyx slapping at his back and saying, "Hey! No! I'm angry with you!" He was already weeping again. "Asshole. I really thought something had happened to you."

"It did."

This was a new voice. They broke apart, turning away from each other to face Roxas, who had entered the room silently. He was supposed to just be monitoring from a short distance away, not inserting himself into it. Axel frowned. "Roxas," he asked, cautiously, "what are you doing?"

"You know this person?" Demyx asked, but his face was turned slightly away so that Axel couldn't see his expression. "Is this who you were with the past few days?"

"Yes," Roxas answered for him, Axel shooting him a look, before saying to Demyx, "Yeah, it is. This is –"

"I know who he is." The way he spoke was clipped, but disappointed. Axel blinked rapidly.

"You mean… you've met him before, right?" he softly asked.

"We've never met," Roxas volunteered.

"No. Not in person," Demyx said, and when Axel stepped away from the chill in his tone, he saw that – that Demyx's eyes weren't blue anymore. They were yellow. Unnatural. Seeming to glow faintly.

"Demyx," he started, but Roxas cut him off.

"He isn't Demyx. That's Xemnas." Sharply, he demanded, "Right?"

Demyx gestured like he was weighing it up. "A little from column A, a little from column B. Right, Axel?" he suddenly asked, looking right at him, Axel wincing at that golden gaze touching him. "I'm still Demyx. I'm just… also more, now." He said this with a smile, looking at each of them in turn. "You know, you should really consider listening to what Xemnas has to say. Xehanort's coming, like it or not, and all he wants is for us to take our natural places with him. As gods of humanity."

Axel stared at him in horrified wonder. "Since when did you care about… lording over humanity? Come on, Demyx, man. It's me." See, he could pull that card, too. "You've gotta tell me it's more than that."

Demyx's gaze never wavered, but – his mouth did. Just briefly, it twisted like he wanted to cry. Not his usual at-the-drop-of-a-hat stuff, but genuinely – howl, with sorrow. It grimaced, even as his upper face remained pleasant. He lifted a hand over his lower face as if he'd let out a burp mid-conversation. "Excuse me." It hovered there a moment, then when it lowered, he was smiling again.

Axel stepped back. "Oh, shit," he said, in sudden understanding. He got it now. But also: "You're still in there, aren't you?" He looked over at Roxas, to make sure he had seen it, too. He had. His expression was… shaken.

In the moment he'd broken their gaze, Demyx moved, way too fast, and suddenly Axel was hitting the wall, Demyx pressed against him, the breath punched from his lungs. He'd moved so fast that not even Roxas had had time to react. "We could have been something, you know," he told Axel, studying his face up close like it was… some kind of fascinating object. Like Xehanort was… leafing through Demyx's memories of him to find an in-road. "Why didn't we ever go any further?"

"Further than what?" Axel asked, sounding strangled. "We met when we were kids, Dem. You'll always be that gap-toothed kid on the playground to me. Aren't I to you?" He managed to lift a hand and clutch Demyx's face, so hard it must have hurt. But he needed him to look at him. He needed Demyx to see him. "Remember, Dem? The day we first played? It was the, uh, the spinning thing, right? Is it a carousel? Aw, fuck, I don't care." He searched Demyx's yellow eyes. "Remember me spinning you so hard you puked everywhere? And because you were spinning so fast, it just kept hitting me as you kept going around, and I couldn't stop you because the bars were so hard and I was just a kid." Usually, they would be breathless with laughter by this point in the story. But there was nothing on Demyx's face. It was oddly expressionless.

Then he blinked, and asked, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to elicit a reaction? A return to 'regular' Demyx?" His grip on Axel tightened painfully. He bared his teeth. He wasn't Demyx. "This is me, now. I'm a god," he said, the sound so proud and smug it almost physically hurt because that wasn't Demyx. If Axel could have pulled away through the wall, he would have. Regardless, Demyx sensed his recoil and jeered. "What, don't tell me you wouldn't love to be powerful again?" He pressed up against Axel almost sensually, breathing against his face, "He shows you your memories, Axel. All of them. And god, the adulation we used to receive."

"…I saw them, too," Axel said, rejecting this with every fibre of his being.

"So you know," Demyx said, and it was almost a groan, a longing, until Axel hesitantly shook his head.

"I only saw them for a second. Then I forgot."

Demyx's gaze went empty for a moment. Then he said, "Forgot?" in a voice so small it was barely audible. "You – you forgot me?" His stare became wild. "You… forgot me? You remembered me – but then forgot about me? Me? I am your best. Friend." He was hurting Axel, pushing him into the wall with abnormal strength, Axel gasping for breath. "We were lovers once, until that little slut came along. Then it was all 'Venus, Ventus, Ventus'." He sneered this name, an ugly sound. His face was caught in a snarl so alien to his face it didn't even look like him anymore. "How about him? You remember him?"

"…No?" Axel offered helplessly, barely able to inhale and wondering where the fuck Roxas was while this was going on. "I'm sorry, Demyx. I forgot it all. All I know is that I'm… this."

"You are a god of fire," Demyx announced angrily, voice soaring. "You are a god of passion. We could have gone back to that. We could have been powerful again, together, and you could have inspired me, because I'm the god of water and music, if you even cared." He shoved Axel, the man coughing out in pain, smothering now, bones grinding, ears ringing from the volume being blared directly into his face. And then – then he was kissing Axel, mashing their lips together, until Axel chomped down on him and Demyx gasped like a bucket of ice had been dropped on him. And Axel knew what that felt like, so he really identified with that. He also recognised the sound of it because it was exactly what waking up had felt like when the fever had him and wouldn't let him go. When for one brief moment, he was startled back into the real world, and that, for a shining moment, was Demyx.

The pressure against him immediately eased, Axel sucking in a deep, grateful breath. Eyes blue, blood on his teeth, Demyx turned to Roxas and said, "Get him out of here. Why is he even…" He clutched his head, breathing hard, grunting slightly. "Fucking go," he commanded, and Roxas, who had been watching the entire fucking thing unfold like he was in the peanut gallery of an especially entertaining play, leapt forward, grabbed Axel, and dragged him through the universe. The ice. The pressure. The gloom. The dread. And then they were in the middle of an empty football field, and Axel started wailing. He begged Roxas to take him back. He pleaded with him to get Demyx and lock him up somewhere Axel could take care of him until he figured out how to get Xehanort out of him. When the boy refused, when he kept on refusing, Axel punched him. Actually, full-on-the-face, punched him.

Roxas staggered back, but managed to remain upright, looking briefly astounded, before fury flared up and he swung back at Axel, who did nothing to get out of the way or stop him as he drove his knuckles directly into the side of Axel's nose. He felt it crunch, felt the pain flare instantly outward right when the blood erupted downward. He let himself fall, and let it hurt.

And that was how he found himself lying on a football field, crying while he streamed blood from his face, as Roxas stood panting above him, rubbing his swelling cheek balefully. "And?" he demanded, as merciless as his brother. "What did that achieve?"

Axel just cried harder, choking on the blood as it drained into his throat, coughing it up, apparently pathetic enough for Roxas to lose the will to fight. "Ah, come on," he heard muttered from above, then Roxas was sitting next to him on the grass. A hand started stroking his hair, and he sobbed. He sobbed, and he bled, and at some point he grabbed hold of Roxas, squeezing his torso desperately, like he was lost at sea and the only thing keep him from giving up and drowning was that small, warm body.

They got him. They got him. They got Demyx. He was a puppet. Demyx was a puppet.

He cried until the tears ran out, until his body softened, until he felt… hollow. Scooped out to the rawest level of flesh. Throughout, Roxas had continued petting him, and once things were quiet again, he pulled out his phone and dialled Sora. "Yeah," he said, his voice springing Axel's suddenly sleepy eyes apart. "We're fine. But Axel got, uhhh… injured, and I'm gonna get Kairi in on this. Yeah. No, I'm sure. Okay. Love you, too." He ended the call, leaned down and kissed Axel's exhausted forehead gently. "Sorry about your face," he said, "but I've got a friend who'll make it better. Your face, I mean. Not…" Axel heard him sigh heavily. "Not… all the other stuff, but your face." Seeming to shake himself, he archly added, "I didn't wanna be looking at all that puff and pus, anyway."

And he unzipped the world, the football deserted seconds later except for the blood seeping into the earth.