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“Bring him back, or destroy him. Is that understood?”
I should have known they'd choose me for this.
Dammit, Roxas, why did you have to do this to me?”
“Is that understood?”
“Yes, Superior.”
“Good.”
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It was my decision. I could have just as easily taken the initiative to do what the others couldn't; they knew where you were, and why DiZ had put you there. Why every single memory of us had been erased, when that was all we ever had to begin with.
Watching you with them, I almost don't want to. You look happier than you ever have been, and that's all I've ever wanted for you. Before, you never smiled. Before you were content within nonexistence. Here .. it's almost like this is where you were meant to be. Even if it isn't real.
I don't want to take that away from you.
But at the same time, the hollow core of my own nonexistence is that much more empty without you there.
It was always enough to just have you around, even if you were less than personable.
When you dropped your guard enough to let me in, when the walls collapsed and you smiled—hearing my name fall from your lips when I touched you, it was always enough.
I look at you now, carefree and completely oblivious, and I know you aren't the same. Even when there were no memories, we made our own, and now those have disappeared along with the rest of them. You're a formatted drive, a clean slate—malleable, just like he wanted you.
They told me you were gone. That the Roxas I knew had been completely erased, and that I should have no qualms about ending this should you refuse to come back with me.
I'm not as weak-minded as they think I am.
You have to be in there somewhere.
And I won't give up until I make you remember.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
He sat at the very top of the clock tower, looking down over the Sandlot. The blond below was completely unaware of the green eyes that lingered, lost as he was within the joys of having no responsibilities, and good friends with which to entertain himself.
If you only knew.
Axel shifted his weight, bringing a knee up beneath him chin and grimacing. It was too bright, too colorful, too .. real, here. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed with DiZ's fabrication, or wary of the fact that he was too good at what he did.
Manipulative bastard.
He gazed downward again, eyes growing tight. The task at hand wasn't going to be particularly simple. How exactly does one make another remember nothing? Because, no matter how much any of them wished differently, that was what they were. He had his memories, sure, but to impart them on someone whose entire previous existence had been erased—that was a feat far beyond even his manipulation.
You're not even supposed to be here. If you hadn't thought it would do you any good at all to leave .. You always have to make things difficult for me, don't you?
He sighed. He'd wasted enough time, watching, recalling in his own mind what he was there to do, and trying all at once to convince himself that whatever he thought of, it was going to work. That this whole thing wasn't just a fluke, a dance around the actual resolution.
Bring him back, or destroy him.
If you hadn't let him go in the first place, you wouldn't be in this position, would you?
Axel shook his head. No, he'd done everything he could to make him stay. Once Roxas had made up his mind, there was no swaying him. No amount of reasoning ever made it through that thick skull of his.
“They'll come after you.”
“Yeah? Let them try.”
And I was right, wasn't I? Here I am, their fucking errand boy, come to bring you home. You've played too long, it's time to come inside and wash up for dinner.
The redhead smirked to himself.
You always did like to play games.
He stood, eyes glittering, and summoned a portal that would take him closer to the reason he used to constantly question whether or not it was worth the trouble to have a heart.
Play with me, just one more time. For old times' sake.
It'll be fun, I promise.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
He was alone for once. His friends had thought it a prudent idea to catch up on their summer homework; even Hayner, who was usually first to throw school on the back burner. For the first time he could remember, Roxas was bored.
He sat in a corner of The Usual Spot, twiddling his thumbs, racking his brain for a solution to his predicament. Leaning his head back against the wall, he let his eyes fall shut and sighed audibly.
Never realized how boring this place was until now. Jeez, what a waste.
“'Bout time I found you by yourself, Rox. I was beginning to think you couldn't handle alone time anymore.”
The blond's eyes snapped open, coming to rest first on a pair of unfamiliar boots, and as his gaze moved slowly upward, a pair of equally unfamiliar bright green eyes staring back at him. The mouth was curved into a patronizing smirk, which somehow made him a bit more uneasy than he felt he should have been.
“Excuse me? Who the hell are you?”
The Unknown shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “They really did a number on you, didn't they? The name's Axel. Got it memorized?”
Roxas blinked, eyeing him warily. “...yeah, sure.” He regarded the other momentarily, taking in the wild nest of red hair, the odd tattoos on both cheeks just beneath the eyes, the hooded coat that was obviously out of place, being the middle of summer and all.
The guy should have been dripping with sweat, yet he appeared altogether impervious to the heat of late afternoon.
“Can I .. help you with something? Or did you just come here to gawk at me?”
Axel tapped his chin thoughtfully, cocking a hip and allowing his stance to become more relaxed as he began pacing in a slow circle in front of the blond. “Well you see, I'm in a bit of a situation here. I've been told to bring you back with me—which, trust me, is the lesser of two evils--” He paused mid-stride, offering a perplexed, overly exaggerated frown. “Or destroy you. Your choice really, but if it were me, I'd pick the first one.”
The other raised an eyebrow, incredulous. He fought the laughter rising from his chest and barely won, leaning back and forcing his face into a neutral expression. “Can I like … buy some pot from you or something? Because whatever you're on, it has to be some good stuff. Seriously.” He cracked a smile, shook his head dismissively. “What do you want?”
The redhead sighed. “I wasn't kidding when I said they'd come after you.”
“Huh?”
“He put you here, Roxas!” Axel held his arms out, gesturing with a certain exasperation at their surroundings. “You tried to leave, and he trapped you here. Took away every memory of the Organization, your purpose, me … and gave you this piss-poor excuse for reality.” He stopped then, venturing a bit closer. “Why do you think this is all you've ever known?”
Roxas sneered, vaulting himself in a standing position, and putting as much space between himself and the redhead as possible. “You're full of shit. I've lived here my whole life, that's why it's all I've ever known.” He propped himself against a far wall and crossed his arms. “That stuff you're on? You need to give it a rest. You're delusional.”
The other snorted and inclined his head, giving an arrogant smirk. “What's the first thing you remember, then? First day of school, maybe? Meeting those friends of yours for the first time? Or maybe your parents singing you lullabies as they tucked you into bed, to help you go to sleep?”
“Fuck you, I—” Wait a second.
When did I meet them?
He'd never stopped to think about it. They'd always just .. been there. No awkward transition into friendship, no first-time conversations between himself and Hayner, about girls or anything—not even any fights, for that matter. They just were. Pence and Olette were the same, fading into the background.
School?
All that came to mind were Olette's constant reminders about the summer homework; no finals, papers, projects due in two days that he'd yet to start. Nothing.
… Mom and Dad?
He never saw them much. When he woke up, they had already left for work. When he came home in the evenings, dinner had been left out for him and he'd assumed they'd already gone to bed. He heard them moving around in their room once in a while, but other than that .. He never thought to bother them for anything, not even extra munny.
When was the last time I talked to them?
The redhead coughed and Roxas snapped back into conscious thought, staring blankly at the other as he appeared to study a gloved hand as though he could see his nails. The edge of Axel's lip curled just slightly. “Think of anything?”
The blond inhaled deeply and held it. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus. Something … anything … birthdays? Holidays … snow? No. Somehow it always seemed to be the middle of summer. Family member dying? It was horrible to think about, but he still found nothing. He wasn't even sure he'd met any other family members. Anyone else significant? Names, faces … smiles …
Damn it, why can't I remember?!
“You aren't going to find anything,” the other offered almost sadly.
He cracked his eyes open to find that emerald stare burning right through him.
“But only because there's nothing to find.”
Roxas held his head between his hands, barely suppressing a groan. “What are you getting at?”
“He put you here to buy himself some time. He wasn't going to let you go so easily.”
“Who's 'he?'”
Axel shook his head. “Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I bring you back. Unless you prefer the alternative?”
The blond's brows furrowed. This is too much. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding in a low whoosh. Too fucking much.
“So because I apparently have no past memories of being here up until now, you expect me to believe you when you tell me some asshole took my memories of another place, another time?” He stared at the redhead, deadpan. “Fuck off.”
The other grinned, the light in his eyes shifting fractionally. “That's where the fun part comes in. I fully intend to .. jog your memory, so to speak.”
He snorted. “Yeah? How you gonna do that?”
Axel's grin grew even wider, taking on a mischievous air as he moved closer. “The only way I know how.” He stood in front of the other, bracing his arms on the wall on either side of his shoulders. Leaning in, he let his lips ghost over the shell of an ear teasingly. “Trial and error.”
“Trial and error? What the fu—”
The pressure of the other's mouth on his shocked him into silence. He froze, stock-still, stunned to the point of forgetting to breathe as the redhead kissed him slowly, even .. shyly?
Why would he …?
Roxas, you're not—get him off of you!
His hands shook as he braced them against the other's chest, pitting all of his weight behind pushing that lithe body away from him. His cheeks flushed pink, eyes glittering hard and cold as sapphire ice; his voice trembled as he spoke with barely suppressed contempt.
“Get away from me,” came the harsh whisper of a command, head bowed so he was looking up at the other through the fringe of his lashes. "And get the hell out of here."
The redhead sneered, grabbed his wrists and held them in a tight grip above his head against the wall. “I was hoping you'd put up a fight, Rox.” He dipped his head low, biting sharply at the edge of the other's jaw. “Makes things a bit more … interesting, don't you think? It's no fun if you don't make me work for it. You always did before.”
The blond fought, wrestled uselessly against the hold the other had on his wrists; he went to kick at those scuffed black boots, only to find a knee wedged firmly between his thighs, putting just the slightest pressure on a part of his anatomy that he wasn't particularly comfortable with. He growled low in his throat, pulling again at the hand that seemed to hold him so easily. “I said let me go.”
Axel appeared to ignore him completely, taking a fingertip from his free hand between his teeth and removing it from its leather sheath. He then tossed the glove carelessly aside, reaching beneath the other's shirt with now bare digits; one simple word fell from his lips as he leaned in again, breath warm against his skin as he exhaled needlessly, seductively.
“No.”
“If you don't—”
You need this, Roxas.
What—?
It hit him hard, the first few images, swirling endlessly within the core of his mind; voices, faces, smiles … laughter?
“He's so tiny!” a blonde woman screeched. Two tendrils of hair on the top of her head swayed as she spoke, giving her an appearance not unlike that of an insect waving its antennae.
“What the hell has Xemnas come to, recruiting children?”
Xemnas.
Why does that sound so familiar?
“I think the little dude'll do all right,” another voice offered, belonging to a man with a hard, chiseled face and an eye patch. He regarded the woman with a certain look of disgust. “All he needs to do is stay clear of you, Larxene.”
The woman gave an indignant shriek and the laughter returned, fading out to silence as he was once again aware of the other's touch. A warm mouth at his throat, tongue darting out to taste his skin; blunt fingernails scraping dully over his ribs.
The blond gave a muted whimper, strength seeming to fail him as his jaw tightened, arms twitching as he sought to escape the unwelcome onslaught of that which was so new, and yet struck a chord within him that resonated with familiarity.
He could almost feel the arrogant smirk spreading across the redhead's mouth as he spoke, the touch of his lips likea a whisper of breath over the rise of his clavicle.
“Anything … coming back to you yet?”
“Damn it, would you just .. back off?”
Oh, you know you don't want him to. Not when he swirls his tongue like that. You used to love it, remember?
I don't … no—
The second time, it wasn't as intense; the breath still somehow managed to leak from his lungs and he gasped, taking in the form of a man with a horrible fake tan and long silver hair.
“Thirteen, I'm sending you on your first mission today. And since you're still rather new to the Organization, I've appointed another member to accompany you.”
He motioned to a figure slouched lazily against a wall in the corner, arms folded over his chest. His eyes were a piercing green, hair a mass of spikes the color of old blood.
“This is Number Eight. He isn't as much of a neophyte as yourself, but you both still have much to learn.” He paused, brows knit together as though there was more to say, but somehow exceedingly unpleasant to do so. His deep orange eyes passed from one to the other and back again, and he sighed.
“See that he doesn't .. cause any unnecessary fires.”
The redhead grinned sheepishly as they were dismissed, turning to the blond and offering a hand.
“Name's Axel. Got it memorized?”
“Shit!”
He was very nearly panting, trembling as a drop of sweat trickled from his temple to the edge of his jaw, where the other lapped it up willingly. “You're remembering, aren't you? What was it this time? Demyx flooding your room because you swiped the last cookie he thought he'd hidden?”
Roxas tossed his head, unconsciously rocking his hips against the knee between his thighs. He forced his eyes open, pupils dilating as he took in that sultry grin.
“I don't remember anything. Let. Go.”
Axel merely shrugged, letting his fingers wander lower, curling into the band of the blond's pants.
“Guess I'm just not trying hard enough.”
He dipped beneath the band, palm slick with perspiration, and enveloped his cock in a slippery warmth that wrenched a strangled moan from a dry throat.
“Want me to make you remember how to scream for me?”
“... don't remember ever doing that ...”
But you did. You would bleed, and you would scream. Every. Night.
Never—
He almost fell willingly into the abyss, the dancing bits and pieces floating all around him; almost, but not quite. He struggled feebly, a moan caught at the back of his tongue as the hand wrapped around his length stroked him slowly, and his perception shifted.
He lay on top of the redhead, limbs entwined, fingertips tracing tiny patterns across a pale chest. He was sweaty, and sore, but strangely content. Looking up through a fringe of blond hair, he found the other's eyes closed in sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly comforting as the sound of their mingled breaths were lost to the quiet of night.
He let his eyes fall shut, absently curling his fingers around the other's.
If we had hearts … I could love you.
But only then.
“... not mine! These aren't my memories!”
He gave a garbled moan, a scream covering a sob as he came. His chest ached, constricting painfully around a strangely hollow core. Fighting to breathe, a broken sigh countered his attempts at speech; Axel released his wrists and he collapsed against the wall.
“Please say you remember.”
The blond was silent, stunned. It didn't seem plausible, but somehow …
“I don't know who are you, or why I remember you.”
He paused, the coming swell of a false accusation dying before it was ever really born.
“But I don't think I want to anymore.”
He was afraid to look up, inexplicably afraid to face the blankness in those green eyes. Time stood still, until he felt a fundamentally disturbing absence. He was alone as before, though at a loss for want of a reason for the sudden lapse in his reality.
A glitch in the program.
Never heed the words of the figment of your imagination.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
I never thought of myself as a failure.
I bring out the big guns every chance I get. Fires start small, but they burn just as well as anything else—so you better make sure you're not in the way.
It started when you left, and took a piece of my invincibility with you. I never doubted myself before I failed to give you reason enough to remember me. I guess he really is too good at what he does, to make that place feel like home to you.
Maybe I never really did have it in me to do what they couldn't do themselves; even when I had assured myself that there was no way, nothing I could say to make you remember.
You're still his clean slate.
And I'm just the fool that tried to rewrite what had been erased.
The next life? Sure, I'll be there. But will you be who I remembered?