"Gone? What do you mean he's gone?"

Zexion could hardly believe the words that had just erupted from Saïx's mouth. He'd just seen Roxas this morning. He read the log in his journal, he spoke with him, he gave him a thorough examination and then left him to rest. It was mere hours ago. Hours. Now, the boy was inexplicably gone. To even begin speculating on what could have happened between this morning and now put Zexion's mind in a dizzying spiral.

Saïx, with the pure audacity to avoid eye contact, shifted uncomfortably in place, offering only a cold reply laced with apprehension. "Axel and I made a welfare check on him." He answered cryptically, appearing truly unsettled by whatever he'd seen. "His bed was bloodied and he could barely stand. He fled in fear before either of us were able to reason with him."

Zexion shuddered, still reeling with disbelief. "And you don't know where he went?"

"I'm afraid not," Saïx replied a bit sheepishly while still averting his gaze. "But Axel has gone after him. It's my hope that they will both return before…"

He didn't finish the sentence, and Zexion was glad he didn't. He needed the silence to think. Wherever Roxas was, he was virtually alone, helpless, and suffering. If the notes in his log were any indication, the situation was rapidly worsening — and now, Zexion couldn't even try to slow it down. If there was ever a worst case scenario to occur after all these months of turmoil, this was it. Just what were they supposed to do now?

He crossed his arms with a long sigh. "There isn't much time."

He'd started to pace as he turned the problem over and over in his mind, all to no avail. His thoughts were a violent tempest of noise, so loud that he hadn't realized Saïx was approaching him. He froze, watching as the man walked slowly, his steps soft and deliberate. There was something very noticeably different about him — about the way he carried himself. This devastating revelation seemed to have broken him, in a way. He'd dropped all facades, coming forward more open and, dare he say, more vulnerable than the apprentice had ever seen him.

Saïx was less than a meter away when he stopped. After that, he hesitated, clearly having concerns but lacking the courage to voice them. It was almost another minute before he finally spoke. "Tell me it isn't what it looks like."

His voice was different too. Startlingly so. Saïx was pleading with him. Even in his eyes Zexion could see his desperation. It was a jarring and somewhat frightening sight. And yet, there would be no placating him. He wanted answers. He wanted a solution. Zexion couldn't give them to him. The situation was hopeless, and Zexion was just as lost as the rest of them. And, in brutal honesty, he was tired of trying to make everyone else feel better about it.

"It's exactly what it looks like," he said pointedly. "And if it's happening now, he could be in real trouble."

Saïx frowned and dropped his eyes. "Will he survive?"

"He might. But without Vexen… I don't see how."

He resumed pacing, unable to keep still with his mind so frenzied. Vexen had left notes and records throughout the duration of this experiment, but they were complicated. Even the secret reports Saïx had uncovered from Xemnas yielded little information that could be of any use. Roxas and the entity he carried were connected by more than just their bodies. It would not be as simple as slicing the poor kid open and extracting the creature by hand. There was a metaphysical bond that needed to be untangled, and only Vexen thought he had any idea how to pull it off. Even if Zexion managed to replicate what the scientist theorized, there was no guarantee it would work. He wasn't sure he had the expertise to even make an attempt.

There was a lingering pause while the two processed everything. Chaos was unfolding right before their eyes, and they could do nothing to stop it. The utter defeat in Saïx's next words was palpable. "What a mess."

What a mess, indeed.

A mess of their own making. Of his own making.

Guilt surged to the surface of Zexion's thoughts. He helped Vexen create this thing that was now in the process of destroying Roxas. He assisted while Vexen put it inside him. He stood by and watched with fascination as the creature took hold and began to grow. He endorsed every step of this heinous experiment from the beginning. Even as complications later arose and Roxas deteriorated, Zexion allowed the experiment to be prolonged until it had reached a point of no return. He had every opportunity to speak up, but never once seized it.

And when he wasn't happily playing along with Vexen's research trials, he was wasting time with shameless indulgence and trivial self-discovery. Spending night after night in Demyx's bed. Reminiscing about the distant past. Playing the piano, drinking, staying up late, falling in love. Laughing and crying until he felt sick. Growing up and learning what he'd been missing. All while his father was nowhere to be found. All while his patient suffered in his bed upstairs.

He sank into the desk chair, head in his hands. Grief and remorse consumed him, such that he couldn't count the tiles on the floor. How dare he let these things happen? How could he allow himself to become distracted and careless when so much was at stake?

"Ienzo." Saïx's voice snapped the apprentice back to reality just before he lost all composure. "Stop. Don't do this now."

Zexion lifted his head, confused. "What…?"

Saïx took a step forward and lowered his voice. "Listen," he said. "Whatever happens, it is not, nor was it ever, your fault."

Zexion could only sigh at that, to which Saïx continued. "We all had a hand in this. You at least tried to make things right, and you did your best with what you had." He paused before adding, "I don't think Roxas would blame you."

Such sentiments were out of character for Saïx. Zexion should have been surprised, perhaps even relieved to hear them. But while he appreciated the man's words, they brought him little comfort in the moment. "No, I suppose he wouldn't."

Saïx meandered off toward the window, gazing at the black void of the sky for several minutes in silence. Zexion was not so oblivious as to think he was the only man in the room feeling remorseful over the situation with Roxas. Whether he would admit it or not, Saïx would never have stayed if he weren't battling with his own guilt. After all, his hands were just as dirty. But it was clear from the moment that he arrived that Saïx wasn't interested in wallowing in that guilt. He came with a different purpose, one more productive and strangely optimistic.

"For what it's worth," he continued in a bafflingly light tone. "You've done very well."

On any other day, it would have been worth a fortune. The highest of praises from the likes of Saïx. But today, Zexion almost wanted to laugh at that. He crossed his arms dismissively, barely hiding an indignant smirk.

Saïx was undeterred. "Any one of us would have cracked under the pressure you've been dealt. Give yourself some credit for making it this far." He elaborated with insistence. "When he learns of your accomplishments, I'm sure Even will be very proud."

It was that last statement that finally got his attention. Now, it was clear why Saïx had come, and why he had stayed. He wasn't just trying to cheer up a weary comrade. He was reminding Zexion that people were counting on him. Vexen was counting on him. Roxas was counting on him. In fact, everyone was counting on him. Counting on both of them. Saïx had come to declare that he had no intention of carrying that burden by himself. Not with everything else he had on his shoulders. But more than that, he was reminding the young apprentice that he would not be bearing it alone either.

Zexion recalled that night he'd discussed his woes with Axel. They'd shared a brotherly hug — the first embrace he'd felt in longer than he could remember. He remembered how powerful it was to sense Axel's desperation in that moment, the weight of emotions radiating from his presence, and the subtle plea for help in lifting it all off his back. Just as well, he could not forget how badly he'd needed help with his own feelings, and just how grateful he was for the support Axel provided with such a simple gesture.

Saïx certainly didn't process these experiences in the same way, and Zexion wasn't about to hug him. But even though the language differed from Axel's, the message was the same: You are not alone. That was what this little heart-to-heart was all about. Saïx, the makeshift leader, and Zexion, the makeshift healer. Both tasked with protecting their comrades in their own ways. Both struggling under the immense weight of everyone's expectations of them. But now, understanding that they must do it together, that they must share the load. They couldn't afford to crack when everyone was counting on them.

It must have shown on his face that Saïx had gotten through, for the man had turned toward him, now looking resolute, and with maybe just a hint of satisfaction over the apprentice's turnabout. "So, you understand," he said with determination. "You can't give up now."

Zexion was still uncertain, but he supposed that was the point — being strong in the face of uncertainty, like Saïx was doing. Zexion had people to fight for, people who believed in him. People like Demyx. Just a few nights ago, Demyx had told him that he can do this, and that he does have what it takes. That was just how he was, always knowing exactly what to say. Always available to listen when that was all he could do. Like any good partner, Demyx held him tightly while he broke down, and then let go when it was time for him to stand up again. He was everything Zexion needed, and he had never failed to be there.

Zexion did not have to question whether Saïx had that same support. He knew full well. And now, it was his turn to give the man some reminders of his own.

"You know," he chimed in after some time. "He wouldn't blame you, either."

Saïx paused briefly, taking in what Zexion had said. The puzzled look on his face lasted only a moment before he caught on, though he did not appear to be in any way uplifted by the remark.

"You're probably right," he answered, now a bit sullen. "More than likely, he would blame himself."

"He loves you, Isa," Zexion persisted. "He may not have a heart, but he loves you with everything he's got left."

The palpable tension and chilling silence that followed Zexion's proclamation left him wondering if he'd pried too deep. Saïx was staring into the distance with an ever-increasing furrow in his brow. Zexion could sense the turmoil inside the man's chest, the wrenching of a heart that was trying so desperately to mend itself. Emotions screaming to be heard. A forgotten longing begging to be remembered. But though he tried to hide it, Zexion could have sworn he'd seen Saïx's frame relax slightly, almost like a swoon. Notes of a subtle smile crept into his eventual response. "I know."

"And you love him."

He didn't answer that. There was no need. Saïx was leaning against the window, his mind appearing to wander to someplace far, far away from this forsaken castle. But Zexion wasn't finished. His point had not been made. He continued, his speech growing more urgent as he pressed on. "This is what it's like, isn't it? All this confusion and uncertainty? Is it always this frightening? This painful?"

"No." Saïx replied flatly. "Sometimes, it's much, much worse."

"And it never stops does it? It just gets stronger and stronger until you feel like you've gone mad?"

He was practically kneeling in front of the man, pleading with him not to close off again. But Saïx was not yet receptive and had not deciphered Zexion's message. He only heaved a long sigh, folding his arms across himself. "I'm sorry you have to find out this way. You're far too young for lessons like this."

"Am I?" Zexion questioned a bit incredulously. "I've learned that loving someone is the best feeling imaginable. It might hurt a lot sometimes, but it's always been worth it. He will always be worth it. How old were you when you learned that?"

Zexion was young, but he wasn't stupid. He had known Axel and Saïx for many years and was well aware of their tumultuous and tragic history. He wasn't old enough to understand at the time, but he now knew the magnitude of the pain they carried. He had indeed learned the lesson of heartbreak. His brief spat with Demyx was only a fraction of what the older pair experienced, but the effect was the same. There was the agony of loss, the lingering depression and bitterness, and then there was the fear — the fear of ever feeling that pain again.

It was that fear that had Saïx completely paralyzed for so long. So long, in fact, that Zexion wasn't even sure if the man was aware of it. It was unfathomable, that of all things a man like Saïx could be afraid of, it was simply love which frightened him most. It's every bit as scary as falling… Axel's wise words could never be more true. If it could make even a man like Saïx hesitate, then love surely had to be the most terrifying experience known to man.

But it was still worth it.

Love was painful. Excruciating, even. But Zexion wouldn't have traded it for anything. There was no greater feeling than the closeness he had with Demyx. Nothing on any world could be more beautiful to him. Love was painful and frightening, yes, but it was also blissful and euphoric. Zexion and Demyx, with their hollow, soulless bodies, took a chance at reaching for paradise, and they found exactly what they were looking for, exactly what they needed. Axel and Saïx had to take that same leap if they wanted to make it to the other side. Their stories — both Axel's and Saïx's, and Zexion's and Demyx's — were the whole point of this journey. To see those stories through from beginning to end, no matter what stood in their way. That was what it meant to love someone. To believe in them, to fight for them. To live for them.

Zexion was not afraid. He had already taken that leap, and he would do it again and again if he had to. He would show Axel and Saïx the true value of love, would remind them of its precious worth. He'd learned so much from them, and now it was his turn to teach some lessons of his own. People were counting on them. People for whom they cared very deeply. Whatever happened today would alter the course of their lives forever, and they had a choice now — to lie idle or to march onward.

And so, Zexion made a decision that he knew would be met with trepidation, and even some opposition, but ultimately felt like the only right thing to do. No longer would he sit and wait. He was going to stand and fight.

"Let me go down there and join the rescue party."

Saïx blinked, completely taken aback by the request. "What?"

"If we don't get Vexen back, they're going to hang him. And if he dies, Roxas dies."

"Axel and Roxas could return at any moment. You're needed here."

"If Roxas comes back, there is nothing I can do for him." Zexion pleaded with his entire being, desperation pooling in his eyes as he spoke. "Please, you have to let me go. I can't sit here and wait any longer."

He watched Saïx for any sign of a turn. Waiting on bated breath, praying for his permission. "Let me be useful. For once… please."

The whirring and humming of technology was now the loudest sound in the room. Zexion hadn't moved a muscle, not even to breathe. Saïx, in turn, stood almost equally rigid, narrowing his eyes and just staring at his younger comrade for a lengthy beat. Appearing to study him. What could he be thinking? Zexion wondered. Was he sizing him up as a suitable party member? Trying to find a little brawn among all the brains? No, that wasn't it. He was searching for something entirely different, but just as important. He was looking for Zexion's conviction. He was reminding him that he'd made a promise. A promise to believe in himself in spite of his doubts. A promise to protect, and to fight for the people who were counting on him. And, a promise to remember that he wasn't fighting alone.

This was a burden they shared. They were in this together. There wouldn't be any more losses on their watch.

"Very well." He answered, clearly approving of this new determination in the young apprentice. "Bring him home, Ienzo."

Zexion honestly had not expected that the man would agree, and so was left just standing there awkwardly for a moment before coming to his senses. When the shock wore off, he raced about the room to gather supplies. There was so little time. He made quick and haphazard preparations, flinging curatives into a small bag, deciding on a whim what was necessary and what could be left behind. He was about to finally head for the door when Saïx interrupted him. "One more thing."

Zexion turned, eyeing the man quizzically, trying to read his face. He could never have expected the words he'd say next, and in fact nearly fainted once he heard them.

"I'm very glad for you."

The surprises didn't end there. Saïx stepped forward and clasped Zexion's shoulder, locking eyes with him as he offered one last speck of advice. "Cherish this feeling. Believe that it can last forever," he implored. "Because, it can. If you want it to."

Standing before him now was a man that Zexion almost did not recognize. In every way, he looked like Saïx. He spoke like Saïx, he scowled like Saïx. But he was no longer that cold, bitter man. This was the Saïx who still had some fight left in him, who still clung to every shred of hope, no matter how small. This was the Saïx who still believed in love and wasn't afraid of it. This, in fact, wasn't Saïx at all. Zexion hadn't used the name 'Isa' for him in ten years, nor had he heard the man call him by his Somebody's name in just as long. But there was a clear reason the two had reverted to their human names today. Not necessarily to dwell on their pasts, but to restore parts of themselves that they now realized were never really lost.

The struggle of Zexion's younger self upon losing his heart was immense. The child he used to be had to grow up and build an identity from thin air. To determine a sense of self amidst constant teachings that he had no 'self' at all. Over the years, Little Ienzo quietly matured into Zexion with no fanfare, unhindered by the lack of a heart. A boy became a man, but there was no real journey to it. Nothing to learn, nothing to conquer, nothing to discover. He had no identity, no sense of self. Zexion woke up on the other side and found himself simply… empty. That's all there was to him now.

But Zexion got to experience things Little Ienzo never could. It was Zexion who had fallen in love with Demyx. Zexion was the one who rediscovered his passion for playing the piano. Zexion was first to hear his own heart thumping proudly inside his chest and to weep over the beauty of it. Only as a Nobody did he learn the power of emotions like happiness. Hopefulness. Heartache. Pain. Passion. Pleasure. Loss. Love. Ienzo might not have grasped these feelings, might not have appreciated them for how precious a gift they were. Zexion, however, had lived for many years aware of their absence, aware of what had been stolen from him. When, at last, he began to feel the first glimmers for himself, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Perhaps, he thought, he wasn't as empty as he'd believed himself to be. Perhaps the journey was always waiting for him, he just had to choose to continue it. He needed a reason to march onward in the adventure that was life, and he found one in Demyx. The two marched in tandem, sharing the same journey and heading for the same destination — a future they thought was out of their reach. So whether he was Zexion or Ienzo, he'd finally gained a sense of self. He'd developed an identity in which he felt secure and whole. Demyx, whether he'd meant to or not, had helped to reawaken his very humanity. At last, his Somebody was opening his eyes, standing on his own two feet and learning how to live again.

He was too choked up to properly thank Saïx in the moment — his beaming face would have to be enough. He could sense genuine care in the words the man chose. Saïx knew what he was talking about, and he trusted Zexion to heed his advice. He wanted to help the boy along on this particular journey of his. It was his hope that Zexion would recognize the importance of love. That he might understand he no longer had to fight it — he'd already won. He wanted Zexion to know that he'd made it, and to believe that he could hold onto that bliss and never, ever let it go.

And Zexion did believe it. With all his heart.

"I will hold down the fort here." Saïx informed him, casting aside all sentimentality for the time being. "You have until sundown. When you arrive on the new world, you can—"

"Demyx?"

Zexion's attention had wandered when he saw a shadow appear on the far wall. Seeking its source, he soon discovered a sheepish-looking Demyx eavesdropping from the doorway to the lab. Following his gaze, Saïx turned toward the entrance and frowned when he saw what had distracted his younger comrade.

"Demyx," he said with obvious disapproval in his voice. "I believe Luxord is waiting for you downstairs."

Demyx fidgeted, scratching his neck and staring at the floor, the wall, the ceiling, anywhere but at Saïx's sinister glare. "I— Y-Yeah. I just wanted to…"

His sentence trailed off as he kept his head down, thumbs twiddling away. Saïx cast a knowing glance between the two — from Zexion, to Demyx, and back to Zexion. He had clearly gotten the idea. With a short exhale, he visibly relented, addressing the apprentice one last time. "Make your preparations quickly, Zexion. There's no time to waste."

He left swiftly and without another word. Now, the younger pair were alone. Demyx remained in the doorway, staring at Zexion with disbelief. Swallowing hard, Zexion shuffled toward him nervously. "I take it you heard all that?"

"Most of it," Demyx answered a bit tersely. "I thought you weren't going down there."

It had to come out sooner or later. Unfortunately, fate had decided on sooner. Zexion dropped his head, unsure how he should respond.

At his silence, Demyx continued to prod him. "It's dangerous! You could get hurt or—"

"Roxas is in trouble." Zexion managed to cut in before Demyx's anxious fantasies could escalate. "Without Vexen's help, we'll lose him."

"But if something happens to you, Roxas is just as screwed. We all are!"

Zexion huffed softly. "Don't be ridiculous, Demyx. I've sat here idle and useless for weeks. In the grand scheme, I'm not that important."

"You are to me!" Demyx took Zexion's hands in his own. "Please, Zexion, you can't go out there. What if something happens to you? What if that nasty plant monster comes back and—"

"It's already decided, Demyx!"

Guilt set in immediately. Once again he'd snapped. Once again, he'd raised his voice to Demyx. As if he'd retained nothing from his conversation with Saïx. Trying not to panic, Zexion squeezed the musician's fingers lightly, apologetically. "I'm sorry… Please, I don't want to argue. Not now, when we've just…"

He couldn't look the man in the eye. All of his doubts and insecurities had come rushing back and he knew they would show on his face. Sure, it was a noble thing, what he was planning to do. It was brave. But what was the use in being brave and noble if it disappointed the person he loved most?

No, he chided himself. He couldn't give up so easily. He and Saïx had made a deal, a promise that they wouldn't crack. People were counting on them. Zexion gritted his teeth. This was his moment to be strong. He inhaled, long and slow, and finally lifted his eyes.

"I'm not ready to let him go." He confessed, somewhat shakily. "I have to do this. I need him back."

Demyx was quiet for a very long time. Deep in thought, searching his heart for grace. Zexion watched the man's face shift as emotion after emotion ran through his features, waiting as he slowly and silently conceded his understanding. Sure enough, his lips, pursed with sadness, eventually curled into a warm smile and his hands rose to frame the apprentice's face. He gently swept away Zexion's dark fringe, gazing amorously into his eyes before leaning in and connecting with his forehead. They lingered there without a sound, just breathing — the last bit of respite they would get.

"I know you'll get him back. One way or another." Demyx murmured as he finally pulled away. "Just… do one thing for me?"

"What is it?"

He grinned. "Squeeze the moogle," As if from thin air, he presented the old, worn, stuffed moogle. "He's got special powers, you know."

Zexion couldn't stifle his laughter, awash in gratitude as he took the toy and pressed its soft fur to his cheek. "Thanks, Demyx."

Demyx hugged him tightly. More tightly than he ever had. Like with Axel, Zexion could sense his desperation, his need for closeness and support. He happily obliged, squeezing the musician back with all he was worth. Several seconds passed and neither of them let go. In fact, Demyx had begun to sway. At first, the two just swayed in place. Back and forth. To and fro. Then, Demyx began adding extra steps. Before they knew it, they were dancing. It wasn't a complicated dance, but it caught Zexion off-guard. He realized that he had never danced before. He didn't know how.

Thankfully, Demyx had taken the lead. Though Zexion was a bit unsteady on his feet, he followed his partner's every step. First to the computer desk, then back. Then to the window, then back. All the while, Demyx was humming a light melody that Zexion swore he recognized but could not place.

"What song is that?"

Demyx paused, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm? Oh, it's, uh… Well, it's the one from before, when we…"

It took only a second for Zexion to realize what he meant. His jaw nearly hit the floor. "You remember that?"

Demyx chuckled. "Well, most of it. I thought it was nice and was playing around with the melody, thinking about some lyrics…"

Zexion was rendered speechless. The song they had written the other night… Demyx had remembered every note. Every rhythm. Every inflection. He shouldn't have been surprised, and yet he simply couldn't wrap his mind around the idea. "Th-That's…"

"Hey, if we're a couple, we gotta have a song. You know, 'our song.' Every couple has one."

"A love song?"

Demyx cocked his head in thought. "Well, I guess it doesn't have to be. But, usually, yeah."

Zexion closed his eyes, letting himself return to that night. He saw the keyboard in front of him, saw his hands hovering over it, his fingers plucking at the keys. He could hear the tinny quality of the instrument, harmonized by the somber voice of a guitar beside him. He could feel his chest drumming faster and faster, tears streaming down his face. And then, the moment it all stopped, and familiar arms wrapped around his quivering frame. He was safe. He was loved. And then, later that night, when they lay in bed together, listening to the rhythm of each other's hearts. Still safe, and still loved. The memory was so clear, so powerful. The emotions were so fresh and so potent. Zexion could think of no melody more fitting than the one they had woven together out of their own passion. If he truly had a heart, it was overflowing now just hearing it.

"'Our song'…"

The longer Demyx recited it, the easier it was for Zexion to pick it up. Soon, they were humming it together, still swaying about the room. But it could not last, as they both realized they were stalling. Time had run out, and they unfortunately had to part.

Zexion gripped Demyx's fingers again, unwilling to let him go. "Please, be careful out there."

"You, too."

"And promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

Demyx drew him close and pressed a warm kiss to his lips. Zexion's knees weakened as he received it, as if he were melting at the man's touch. There was something very different about this kiss. It started soft and slow, but grew in intensity. It was desperate. It was fierce. Electric, even. There was a deep longing to it, as if it would be their last. Zexion never wanted it to end.

It was with much reluctance that the two released each other, and when he opened his eyes, Zexion caught the musician grinning again.

"Now, say you love me."

Zexion giggled. "I love you. You know I love you."

Demyx kissed him a second time, hard and fast. "Say it again."

The second kiss was shorter, but no less breathtaking. Zexion was winded and could barely stand upright. "I love you, Demyx."

The apprentice braced himself when he saw what was coming next. His sly grin widening, Demyx was closing in for yet another earth-shattering, heart-stopping, mind-blowing kiss. "Music to my ears."

Greetings everyone. Back from the dead, eh?

I know I haven't updated this in a while. 5 years, actually. After all, this was my first ever fic, and I wound up getting pretty stuck after the last chapter. I just didn't have much of a concept for where the story would be going after that point. But I never, ever forgot about it. I always wanted to come back to it just as soon as I knew what to write. Every day I thought about it and I waited and waited for some ideas. Some came, but not enough to continue. So I went off and wrote other fics, explored other fandoms, and promised myself that once I had a plan, I'd get back to Nobody is Heartless.

Imagine my surprise when I started receiving new comments in just the past few weeks! 5 years with no update and some very kind and generous people still read the whole fic and left comments. I was so moved, I knew I had to get back in here, to revive my darling little hot mess of a fic and finish it once and for all. And so, that is what I have decided to do. It may take a long time to get it all out, but I WILL finish this fanfic! I owe it to myself, I owe it to these characters, and I owe it to you, the readers. You inspired me to keep going, to keep fighting even when part of me wanted to quit. By leaving kudos and comments, you've shown me that you believe in me, and so I'm going to start believing in myself. Like Zexion, I have folks who are counting on me, and I won't let them down!

Thank you so much my friends for sticking around for all these years. Let's make it to the end. We shall go together!

Peace and Love,

Ostelan