Binary -- Chapter Eleven
Huh. Well. Some of this kind of just snuck up on me. Ha. Hahaha. Haaaaaa.
And this chapter isn't pretty, y'all.
Required Listening: (I'm lying, it's totally optional.) I'd recommend some good Midwest hip-hop. Eminem, D12, Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, Kanye West, Nelly, Fifty Cent, and Flo Rida. Some Akon, maybe. Whatever you like.
Title: Binary
Author: Lost Forevermore or Woebegone121
Rating: R for swearing, themes, and violence. (as of now. Rating is subject to change.)
Pairings: Sora/Riku, Axel/Roxas, and various other random scatterings
Genre: Mystery/Romance
Disclaimer: If I owned it, Kingdom Hearts would be a musical.
Warnings: Slash, language, possible adult content, eighties metal music, Motley Crüe, Guns 'n Roses, Savage Garden, fat cats, Roxas' mouth, Axel's lighter, Sora with a motorcycle license, crappy apartments, and excessive amounts of randomly named bands that may or may not have anything to do with each other.
Summary: Detective AU. It all started with a motorcycle accident, a missing blond, and a stolen computer disc. Now Riku's tracking his so-not-boyfriend and a hotheaded blond down with the help of his rock-obsessed, pyromaniac, partner-in-fighting-crime and his secretary who still hasn't figured out that she works for him, not the other way around. Not to mention the gang that's trying to kill them. And poor Riku's mop still isn't magical.
Or, at fanfiction.net.
Links to previous:
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten
Chapter Eleven: Lose Yourself
There wasn’t a lot that Axel actually remembered. The shrink he’d been assigned by the government had called it something like repressed memory or something along those lines, but Axel had only ever shown up to his appointments once and had fallen asleep on the couch, so it was quite obvious that he really didn’t give a damn if he remembered hell or not. Over the months, things had started to come back, and he was not at all pleased with this. He’d looked it up once on Google - and hadn’t that been an adventure - and he’d closed out the window maybe five minutes into reading it, deciding to let them come if they were coming. He was a big boy. He could handle it.
Mostly, the triggers were simple, everyday things. A look on Kairi’s face, the way Riku would bob his head along with his precious modern alternative - or what Axel more commonly referred to as ‘cry-me-a-river-and-go-drown-in-it crap’ - an Eminem song on the radio. He looked down at his pack of cigarettes one day and heard Kairi’s voice echo in his mind, could see her look of distaste, silhouetted in neon lights shining through a dirty window.
“Those things’ll kill you someday.”
And she’d flipped her long hair and strode off to do whatever it was that she did in that crappy little apartment. He’d blinked and looked up past the fake plant and she was quirking an eyebrow at him, opening her mouth to ask him if he was alright. Before she could, he’d stood up and tossed the full carton into the trash, because he’d obviously been meant to remember that, and Axel believed in signs when it suited him.
Some things, though, he’d never forgotten. He remembered meeting Demyx for the first time, crystal clear. He easily recalled the way that the blond had been waiting for them under a dark hood, sprawled on a bench like he owned it. He easily remembered the way Demyx had grinned at them, all summer days and surfboards, and told them that if they fucked this up, he’d put a bullet in them personally. Axel hadn’t liked him then, wouldn’t like him later, and didn’t like him now.
And then there was the night that Kairi had gotten involved. She’d always technically been involved as their information analyst, a fancy term that really just meant that she got to boss them around, interrogate them, and then tell their supervisors the prettied-up version of what was going on. DiZ never found out about the nights that Axel spent hitting the bars or just how Riku got the good information out of Marluxia, because Kairi always ran damage control, and only told him what he needed to know. Axel’s coping skills and Riku’s investigative methods weren’t what he needed to know.
They did what they had to do.
It had been a surprise visit by the higher-ups, who had apparently been in the neighborhood. Kairi had been at the kitchen table instead of in the bedroom where she usually was, safely hidden away from the line of fire, and that apartment was supposed to be a safer place anyway. She had only had the time to close out the important stuff and hide the stack of files under the mess covering the kitchen table before Xemnas had strode in past Riku, the whole lot of the rest in tow. Larxene had been the first to notice her there.
“Well! And who’s this?” the blonde had asked, smiling like a cat after a bird.
“My sister,” Axel said just as Riku said, “My girlfriend.” For a moment, no one moved, and the Organization simply looked at them. Finally, Kairi stood up.
“Kairi,” she said strongly, planting her shaking hands on her hips and looking Larxene over. “I love your shoes.”
And from then on, Kairi had played the part of the gangster’s girlfriend and the gangster’s sister, filling her wardrobe full of tight jeans and knock-off tags, throwing in some black leather for good measure. She wore too much makeup and earrings that freaking touched her shoulders, and stayed as close to Axel, Riku, and Demyx as she could.
After that, the rest of it ran together. He remembered having to prove himself, he remembered getting drunk a lot, and he was pretty sure he may have helped rob a bank at one point, and possibly may have trafficked drugs through to Nebraska. One afternoon, he woke up with Riku icing tattoos on his cheeks, diamonds of all things, like he didn’t already look like a clown, but he wasn’t too sure how he’d gotten them. He didn’t feel like he had a hangover, and he didn’t remember losing at cards, but Riku looked grim, so he didn’t ask. Months later, when he’d let it slip out that he didn’t remember, Riku had refused to look at him. “Good,” he’d said quietly, and Axel left it at that.
“A-Axel… Oh, god, Axel, we…”
Riku’s breath had hitched and Axel had shot up from where he’d been lying on the crappy sofa, because his best friend was fucking crying over the phone, and he could hear Kairi in near-hysterics and Demyx was saying something in the background. He was grabbing his jacket off the coffee table and was out the door before Riku could find the breath to speak.
“…I-I killed him.”
He remembered picking them up, remembered the tears streaming down Riku’s face and the way that Demyx was holding Kairi up, forcing her to take one step after another. He doesn’t know exactly how they covered it up, just that it didn’t fucking work, because the next memory he had was in the middle of an April night.
This time, when he answered, there was nothing but silence.
He had pulled it away from his ear and looked at the number, and sure enough, it was Riku’s. He called Riku’s name, but all he got was something rustling in response, and that didn’t sit too well with him. He shook his head and hung up, figuring that Riku’s butt had called him again, even if there was a little voice inside his head telling him that no, something was horribly wrong.
He’d set the phone down again and laid back down in the dark, but it was only a few seconds later before the phone rang again, and this time it was Demyx.
“It’s over, man, they know,” the blond had said in a rush, like he was running out of time, and it hit Axel. Time was already up. And if time was up and Riku was sending silent calls…
Shit. He didn’t want to think about that.
“I’m droppin’ baby girl off with DiZ. They’re taking Riku to the warehouse by the river.”
The warehouse was already on fire by the time Axel had gotten there, black smoke rolling out the two-by-fours boarding up the windows and billowing through the broken glass up into the sky. He had spared a moment to stare in horror before sending a prayer up to whatever god was willing to listen before crashing his way through the door and throwing himself into the flames.
The warehouses by the river were big, filled with crates, most of them on fire and crackling in the heat as Axel ran past them. He crouched low and held a hand over his mouth, calling out Riku’s name through his fingers. His throat grew hoarser by the second, smoke burning its way into his lungs, until he finally succumbed to coughing in the middle of Riku’s name, stumbling and falling, just barely aware enough to dodge a falling fireball of a crate.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, coughing, a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him up all the way. The blur threw Axel’s arm over his shoulders and half-dragged, half-ran him toward the exit. Axel tried to pull out of his grip and turn away, coughing out Riku’s name, but his head was spinning with the lack of oxygen, and it was simple for the other, smaller figure to pull him back toward the door again.
There was a flash of silver and he felt an ounce of strength return as recognition flashed across his mind, just enough to let him pull himself out of the other’s grip and sprint over to the crumpled form. Dismay filled him as he found that it wasn’t Riku, but instead the head bastard himself, barely conscious.
“Would you get your ass over here before you get us killed?!” the smaller man shouted, his words fading into a cough. Axel looked over at him, and everything was still blurred and hazy with smoke and heat, then down at Xemnas, lying at his feet, the man who was the reason that Riku was probably burning alive somewhere in the warehouse.
It only took him a split second to decide. He set his jaw and dropped to one knee, swearing mentally as the jerky movements drew another coughing fit from him. He heard a crash somewhere, the roof caving in, no doubt, and pulled Xemnas’ limp arm over his shoulder, attempting to drag him to his feet and finding that he didn’t have the strength.
“You reckless, stupid son-of-a-bitch,” he heard the other man growl behind him before he leaned over and helped Axel drag Xemnas to his feet, shuffling them both toward the door. “I swear to God, if this gets us killed, I’m kicking your ass straight through Hell’s floor.”
Axel didn’t have the breath to reply.
They made it out alive, at least, and got a good twenty or so feet away before Axel collapsed to the concrete, black edging at his vision and the world swirling around him.
“Come on,” the smaller man, and he had to be an angel or something, because only an angel could have eyes that blue. “You can make it.”
He pulled Axel up again and somehow, they managed to get away from the danger zone of smoke and flames, Xemnas held up between them. This time, when Axel fell, the blue-eyed angel let Xemnas fall in order to catch the redhead before he hit the concrete. Carefully, he lowered Axel to the ground and yanked a cell phone out, just as Axel remembered Riku.
“He’s fine,” the other said, brushing a little bit of singed hair off of Axel’s smoke-blackened face. “He’s nearby, I promise. It’s gonna be okay.”
Axel let his eyes close, the words echoing in his head. His last memory was of vivid blue eyes and a soft hand and a quiet voice telling him that it was going to be okay.
Axel remembered his angel.
Kairi remembered the little things. She remembered how much she hated the smell of Axel’s cigarettes and the way the inner-city never actually slept. There had been flowers embroidered on the curtains that she had bought to close out the neon lights so she could sleep, and Demyx’s laugh had always made her want to hop the next plane for sunny California. He’d had tin foil over his windows to keep the neon lights out in his room. Riku had always looked good in black.
She remembered the subtle things, the ones that were little, but big too. Axel always liked to have a six-pack in the fridge. Demyx’s sea-breeze smile had always had a little bit of a rain somewhere along the edges. Riku’s eyes had been dead that morning, and Marluxia was wearing a self-satisfied little smile every time she had seen him that day. Luxord had always watched her like a hawk, a small smirk on his lips.
She remembered, once, the way she’d finally gotten annoyed enough by Axel’s cigarettes to say something. “Those things’ll kill you someday.”
Axel had shrugged and smirked, lighting one of the smokes in question. “If I’m lucky, they’ll hurry up about it.”
She remembered meeting Demyx for the first time, the way he had sat on their couch and played every song she could think of, from “American Pie” to “Ziggy Stardust.” His voice had been soft and sweet, and the guitar was a little out of tune, and he’d have to show her that Chinese place a couple of blocks over because they had the best sweet and sour chicken he’d ever tasted. He had shown her how to play a chord on the guitar. She didn’t remember the chord anymore, but she remembered that his fingers pressing hers to the strings were warm.
Afternoons were her favorite memories, though, when Axel and Riku were out playing their parts and she was stuck in a crappy little apartment with just her laptop for company. Demyx came by, and she figured that he was just looking for a break from being a bad guy, because he seemed to smile a little brighter around her. He didn’t try to teach her anymore chords, but the guitar was always with him and he’d play for her, and Jesus, she loved to hear him sing. She remembered one day, when it was raining outside, he played her a song that she didn’t know. It sounded like a lullaby, though, sweet and soft and filled with promises, and his fingers kept playing even when he had leaned over the guitar. His kisses, she decided, tasted like tropical fruit and the open sea.
Larxene was hard to forget. She had latched onto Kairi, apparently thrilled to have a shopping partner. She had helped pick out Kairi’s gangster wardrobe, and she’d taken her to get her nails done at the best place in the ‘hood, where the little Vietnamese guy rattled on and on like Kairi could understand him, and she’d actually had fun. Of course, that had been before she’d seen Larxene lacing a water bottle with cyanide and leaving it in the vending machine, just because she could. Demyx had gone behind her and taken it out, but Kairi still had nightmares about what kind of person could have taken a fatal drink.
Vexen had always given her chills, she recalled. Even the name made her shudder now, made her think of cold scientist’s eyes and the way he had always looked at her like a specimen to be collected. Axel had once warned her to stay away from him. “Everything’s an experiment to him,” the redhead had said. “One wrong step and you’ll wind up a lab rat.” She had tried avoiding him and found it a relatively easy task, the scientist preferring to keep to his notes and his research than to go retrieve “protection fee” from the locals.
The others she had only met a few times, but she remembered them easily enough. Xigbar liked his guns. Xaldin was a manipulative bastard. She’d only heard Lexaeus speak once. Zexion had always been polite. Saïx had an unhealthy obsession with the moon. Marluxia had a garden. Xemnas had a superiority complex, but everyone knew that.
But her most vivid nightmares came from Luxord. Luxord had played poker, all kinds. You name it, he could tell you the rules and the right way to cheat at it. Some of the Organization had thought him the luckiest man alive. Kairi was there the night his luck ran out.
It was raining that night, she remembered. He’d been waiting for them under an umbrella when they came out of the apartment building, Kairi on Riku’s arm like she was supposed to be and Demyx striding alongside them, holding their own umbrella over their heads. Luxord was smirking, and his predator’s grin widened when he saw them.
“Hey, man!” Demyx had shouted, waving and grinning. Luxord didn’t give his customary nod of acknowledgement. Demyx’s grin had faltered a bit. “What’s up?”
“I’d like to place a little wager,” the man had said. “Tell me, how much are you willing to ante up for this?”
He held up a sheet of paper and Kairi felt her heart stop as she found herself looking at an email that she had written a week before, detailing the Organization’s plans for a drug run, addressed to DiZ.
“…What exactly do you want?” she heard Riku ask quietly, reaching for the paper. Luxord snatched it away before he could grab it.
“What can you offer? And it had better be good,” Luxord had smirked at her. “I’m sure Xemnas would love to hear exactly why all of his recent business ventures are being foiled.”
“We’re not in the mood for your games,” Riku had growled.
“Then I’ll make it clear.” He reached forward and, deceptively gentle, traced a finger down Kairi’s cheek.
She would never be exactly sure who moved first. Demyx had lunged at about the same time that Riku had yanked her away from him, the blond’s guitar case falling to the ground. The two blonds crashed into a nearby car, locked in struggle, Demyx’s hands around Luxord’s neck and Luxord’s fists clenched in Demyx’s shirt. Kairi watched as Luxord slammed a knee up, straight into Demyx’s stomach, causing the blond’s grip to slacken just enough for Luxord to throw him off. Riku pulled out of her grip and threw himself into the fray, but Demyx was already on the ground and Luxord was bigger than Riku and ready for the fight. Riku didn’t see the way the blond braced himself, never expected Luxord to be able to slam him into the hood of the car so hard that he dented it.
Kairi remembered that he’d always been crap at fighting.
Luxord turned his focus on her then, taking a step forward and jolting Kairi into motion. She took a step back and fumbled at her jacket with shaky hands, stepping backwards as he stepped forward and damn it, where the hell was her gun?!
He suddenly stopped, yanked backwards by the collar as Demyx hauled him back and slammed him into the car again. Luxord elbowed back, catching Demyx in the ribs and switched their positions, pressing the smaller blond up against the car instead. Kairi froze as she caught a glimpse of metal in the neon lights and her fingers closed around her Ladysmith, thank god. She aimed as the knife pressed against Demyx’s throat, swearing when her hands shook so much that she couldn’t get a proper sight on the bastard, pressed her finger against the trigger. Luxord looked back at her, drawing a thin line of blood from Demyx’s throat, just a shallow cut.
She froze as he met her eyes. Her mind was screaming to pull the trigger, pull the fucking trigger before he could press that knife any deeper and silence that soft, sweet voice forever, but her fingers wouldn’t listen and her hands were still shaking and-
There was the sound of thunder crashing above them.
The knife slipped from Luxord’s hand and his grip loosened from Demyx’s shirt as the blond crumpled down. The gun fell from Kairi’s nerveless fingers as she watched the blood trickle out from a hole in Luxord’s head that hadn’t been there before. Demyx didn’t move for a minute, but Riku was standing up, his gun still in his hand, looking shocked as though he couldn’t believe that he had just pulled the trigger.
Demyx was the first to reach her and pull her close, pressing her face into his chest and shielding her from the blood running down the pavement with the rain, coloring it a sickening red. Somewhere in her mind, she was aware that the strange, sobbing little breaths were being wrenched from her own throat, and her knees gave out when she heard Riku say in shock, “…I-I killed him.”
Demyx caught her.
That had only been a month before it had all gone to hell, a month before Demyx showed up at the door to his apartment instead of somewhere on the interstate running drugs, without his guitar and a wild, scared look in his eyes. He’d shoved all of her notes into a bag and handed her a gun, telling her to fucking use it this time if she had to. It had hit her somewhere between Eureka and “I’m droppin’ baby girl off with DiZ” that it was all over, and she was lucky to be alive.
The car ride had been quiet after that, though she was pretty sure that she had cried and Demyx had promised that it would be okay. They hit the small, quiet house somewhere around midnight and he had led her inside, flipping on lights and calling for DiZ. When she had simply stood in the foyer, a mantra of “It’s over” echoing through her mind, he had taken her by the hand and had sat her down on the couch, and wrapped her in his arms. They’d stayed there, and she barely heard Demyx and DiZ speaking over her, mind wandering until DiZ’s phone rang.
“They’re safe.”
Kairi closed her eyes to keep relieved tears back, and Demyx’s arms had tightened around her. Suddenly, she was aware of how exhausted she was, the strain of the past seven months crashing down on her. Demyx’s heartbeat was in her ear and his fingers were warm, laced with hers. She fell asleep to his quiet voice singing some song that she didn’t recognize, but it sounded like a lullaby, and that was the last time she saw him. He had a cover to keep. He was important and she was a risk, and they did what they had to do.
Kairi remembered falling in love.
Riku remembered all of it. He wasn’t keen on forgetting any of it, either, deciding that someone needed to know what had gone down and be able to tell DiZ. Someday he’d probably have to testify, if they actually got their shit together and managed to catch the Organization. The way his luck was running, though, he’d be taking most of it to his grave, and that grave was being dug deeper with every mile they drove.
His first impression of Demyx was that the blond had been living a double life for way too long. His bright smiles were desperate, his eyes were always watching, and Riku had no doubts that he’d make good on his threat of putting them six feet under if they screwed this up for him. He was good at playing his dangerous part, and his was too important to compromise over a couple of rookie cops and a little girl. Of course, if they fucked this up, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to kill them, and Riku had a feeling that neither would they. Demyx had been their ticket in. Old acquaintances, he’d told Xemnas. Kids who were tired of walking the straight and narrow.
They’d looked the part then, Axel with his rock-and-roll spikes and his cigarettes and Riku with his cold stares and knowing smirks. They’d played the part beautifully, for awhile, at least. And then suddenly, it seemed, Riku had found himself pointing a gun at a brave bank teller, but Axel was the one who’d pulled the trigger because Riku’s fingers wouldn’t move and if someone didn’t shoot the guy pressing the alarm, the whole operation was going to hell and they were going to wind up dead. He’d been so relieved when Axel asked him how he’d gotten the tattoos. No one needed to remember the scream that Riku still heard when he thought too hard.
Kairi wasn’t supposed to have gotten involved. She was their own little addition, their information analyst, a go-between for them and DiZ. Her fingers were fast on the keyboard and she could hack into Zexion’s systems faster than Zexion could, and it became apparent that she was just as good an actress as they were when Xemnas and the gang had decided to pop by for a visit one afternoon.
“My girlfriend,” Riku had said in unison with Axel’s, “My sister.” He’d waited for it to be completely over then, for Xemnas to draw the conclusions that would lead to their immediate elimination, but Kairi had stood with the grace of a queen and had surveyed the lot of them with her hands on her hips as though she wasn’t scared out of her wits.
“Kairi,” she said matter-of-factly, and then found a way to draw attention away from herself by way of Larxene’s high heels. “I love your shoes.”
Some things he would have liked to have forgotten, however, if only to believe that he wasn’t as tainted as he felt. Marluxia ranked high in this category. Riku wasn’t proud of anything he had done, but the pink-haired bastard ran his mouth a mile a minute when he had something pretty to play with. It was a strange method of gathering information, but DiZ would never know how Riku knew about the bank heists and trafficking runs, and that was fine by him. “You did what you had to do,” Kairi had told him once, and that was all they’d ever said about it. Sometimes, it was just easier to pretend that you could forget.
He’d clung to those words like a prayer when Luxord had shown them that paper, that little piece of blackmail that would send it all to hell. They’d been set in stone when the bastard had actually had the nerve to touch Kairi, because he’d sworn up and down to himself that she wouldn’t have to see what really happened out there. Demyx had acted before him, but blind rage was no help and Demyx was on the ground before he did any actual damage. He’d jumped before thinking as well, and the rain had made the pavement slippery. He had no advantage, and he saw stars and felt the hood dent beneath his body.
The next thing he knew, Luxord had a knife pressed to Demyx’s throat and Kairi’s finger was pressed to the trigger of her handgun. Demyx wasn’t moving, wasn’t actually breathing, and there was blood trickling down his neck. Kairi’s hands were shaking and her eyes were wide. It was in slow-motion, it seemed, and he wasn’t quite sure when exactly he’d pulled out his own gun, but the thunder crashed above him and then Luxord was falling to the ground in a heap.
And there was blood. So much blood.
“Axel,” Demyx had said breathlessly, reaching for Kairi and pulling her close. “Call Axel.”
Riku’s hand almost wouldn’t move to his pocket, because his eyes were transfixed on the bloody sight before him and fuck, it was his fault. Oh god, what had he done?
“A-Axel… Oh, god, Axel, we…” He’d stopped breathing then, when it hit him, what he’d done, and that was Luxord dead on the ground before him, Riku’s bullet through his brain. It was storming, but it wasn’t rain trickling down his cheeks. “…I-I killed him.”
They did what they had to do to stay alive, he remembered.
It was a month later when Death finally came to dance with him. Kairi had gone over to work at Demyx’s apartment, claiming that Axel’s cigarettes were bothering her. Demyx was supposed to be doing a run to Iowa, and Axel was dead to the world on the couch. He’d gone for a walk, that was all, just to go get dinner, because the Chinese place a couple of blocks over had the best sweet and sour chicken he’d ever tasted. Something went wrong somewhere between the corner of Brook and Mississippi Avenue and the Chinese place, because he’d just been walking along when someone grabbed him from behind, pressed a cloth over his mouth and nose, and he saw black.
When he came around, he was still seeing black, though he had a feeling that had something to do with being shoved in something small and dark instead of being unconscious. A long strip of what he supposed was duct tape had been pressed over his mouth. He tugged at his hands and found them bound tightly behind them, the rope cutting into his skin and feeling slowly ebbing out of his hands. He swallowed and forced himself to keep calm, even as the black seemed to close in around him and slowly press down on his lungs, shortening his breath as he considered all the possibilities, the foremost being that he had been buried alive.
Something shifted behind him, though, and then everything shifted, including himself, and he came to the realization that he was moving. He shifted and hit something hard and unforgiving, wincing when it drove his cell phone painfully into his thigh. The small LED light shone through his pocket, and a moment later, he heard Axel.
“Hey, man.”
He tried to make a sound, but the duct tape muffled his voice, and then he was sliding to the side again.
“Riku?”
Shit! He shifted again, tried to make some noise that would raise suspicion or something, but he slid back toward the spare tire again. He hit it, and the phone dug painfully into his thigh again, and the line went quiet, and despair settled in again.
It seemed like an eternity later when they stopped, and he heard the slamming of a couple of car doors. A moment later, somebody popped the trunk, and he found himself glaring up at Larxene’s smirk. “Morning!” she chimed brightly, and Lexaeus reached in and hauled him up, dropping him painfully to the concrete. One of them kicked him onto his back and Larxene bent down and lifted his chin with a finger.
“Xemnas isn’t too happy with you,” she had said with a little, terrifying giggle, and then straightened. A split-second later, she slammed her boot into his side, and a pained sound escaped Riku as he felt a rib or two crack and bruise.
Lexaeus yanked him to his feet, the motion sending pain shooting through Riku’s side, and dragged him into the warehouse, Larxene following. The smell of gasoline hit him when they walked through the door, and fear chilled every inch of him, now very sure about what was about to happen and very sure that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. The smell of gasoline grew stronger with every step that Lexaeus dragged him, and he noticed that the crates seemed to be doused around him, but the concrete floor was dry. Of course they wouldn’t want to get any gasoline on themselves. Being a walking bomb was probably not what they had in mind.
The whole gang wasn’t there waiting for him, at least. It was just Xemnas and Zexion waiting, and for a moment, Riku was confused as to why the latter was even there. That was before he saw the cigarette held in artistic fingers, already lit, and he swallowed. Xemnas was smiling, and he waved a gracious hand toward a rickety chair that seemed out of place in the warehouse. Riku apparently had no choice but to sit in it, Lexaeus’ large hands shoving him down in it and trapping his ankles to the legs of the chair with two pairs of handcuffs. The irony wasn’t lost on Riku.
“Well, well,” Xemnas said, looking around at the crates drenched in gasoline. “You know the rules. Traitors must be eliminated.”
And that was the cue for Larxene and Lexaeus to take their leave, the former planting a kiss on Riku’s cheek and murmuring a bright farewell before she leaved to get clear of the warehouse and the fireball it was about to become. Zexion turned as well, taking a last drag of his cigarette before tossing it at a crate somewhere down the row, immediately igniting the first. He leisurely left as Xemnas approached Riku.
“Scared? Terrified, perhaps?” the man asked as the second crate caught fire. “Hm. I wouldn’t know,” he went on as though Riku had actually responded. “I don’t feel a thing.”
And then he was gone, and Riku was alone in the warehouse, watching as the fire spread rapidly around him, lighting crate after crate. In seemingly no time at all, it had spread so close that Riku could feel it, flames licking out and nearly burning him. The crates behind him caught as well, then spread to the crates on the other side and Riku was surrounded, left helpless and bound in a room of fire. His hands were working furiously at his bonds, but the lack of circulation made his fingers heavy. The fire crackled and cracked like a whip, and he heard a crate nearby creak and finally splinter, falling in a pile dangerously close to him. He swore behind the duct tape and attempted to scoot the chair to the side, managing to succeed only in falling over, which put him in a position of being close to the burning crates.
Another crate fell somewhere behind him, the heat on his back but not quite burning him yet, and his breath caught as he sucked in only smoke through his nose. He was too close to the fire now, only taking in smoke and not enough oxygen, his vision blurring. His head fell against the concrete as another crate fell to the ground somewhere, and he finally just closed his eyes as another crate smashed to the ground.
“Riku!”
Shit, now he was hearing things too. Was he not allowed to die sane?
The duct tape was ripped from his mouth and his eyes opened slowly as he breathed in, only to cough again a moment later. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn’t see anything but smoke and flames, but he could swear it felt like someone was untying his hands, and a moment later, he could move his feet as well. The someone pulled him up, throwing Riku’s arm across his shoulders.
“I swear to God, if you die on me, I’m dragging your ass out of hell so you can explain it to my boss!”
His legs were refusing to work, and the other was dragging him to the exit, dodging crates and flames. At one point, the other stumbled and nearly dropped him. “Shit, man,” the smaller panted. “You’ve gotta help me out here. You can make it, asshole.”
Riku set his jaw and opened his eyes as best he could, telling himself that he could make it if he just got his shit together and got the fuck out of there. It was slow, much too slow than the situation called for, but somehow he made it out, and somehow the other managed to get him safely away before his vision finally escaped him, and the last thing he heard was the other swearing and leaving him there on the concrete.
Riku remembered surviving.
And this chapter isn't pretty, y'all.
Required Listening: (I'm lying, it's totally optional.) I'd recommend some good Midwest hip-hop. Eminem, D12, Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, Kanye West, Nelly, Fifty Cent, and Flo Rida. Some Akon, maybe. Whatever you like.
Title: Binary
Author: Lost Forevermore or Woebegone121
Rating: R for swearing, themes, and violence. (as of now. Rating is subject to change.)
Pairings: Sora/Riku, Axel/Roxas, and various other random scatterings
Genre: Mystery/Romance
Disclaimer: If I owned it, Kingdom Hearts would be a musical.
Warnings: Slash, language, possible adult content, eighties metal music, Motley Crüe, Guns 'n Roses, Savage Garden, fat cats, Roxas' mouth, Axel's lighter, Sora with a motorcycle license, crappy apartments, and excessive amounts of randomly named bands that may or may not have anything to do with each other.
Summary: Detective AU. It all started with a motorcycle accident, a missing blond, and a stolen computer disc. Now Riku's tracking his so-not-boyfriend and a hotheaded blond down with the help of his rock-obsessed, pyromaniac, partner-in-fighting-crime and his secretary who still hasn't figured out that she works for him, not the other way around. Not to mention the gang that's trying to kill them. And poor Riku's mop still isn't magical.
Or, at fanfiction.net.
Links to previous:
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten
Chapter Eleven: Lose Yourself
There wasn’t a lot that Axel actually remembered. The shrink he’d been assigned by the government had called it something like repressed memory or something along those lines, but Axel had only ever shown up to his appointments once and had fallen asleep on the couch, so it was quite obvious that he really didn’t give a damn if he remembered hell or not. Over the months, things had started to come back, and he was not at all pleased with this. He’d looked it up once on Google - and hadn’t that been an adventure - and he’d closed out the window maybe five minutes into reading it, deciding to let them come if they were coming. He was a big boy. He could handle it.
Mostly, the triggers were simple, everyday things. A look on Kairi’s face, the way Riku would bob his head along with his precious modern alternative - or what Axel more commonly referred to as ‘cry-me-a-river-and-go-drown-in-it crap’ - an Eminem song on the radio. He looked down at his pack of cigarettes one day and heard Kairi’s voice echo in his mind, could see her look of distaste, silhouetted in neon lights shining through a dirty window.
“Those things’ll kill you someday.”
And she’d flipped her long hair and strode off to do whatever it was that she did in that crappy little apartment. He’d blinked and looked up past the fake plant and she was quirking an eyebrow at him, opening her mouth to ask him if he was alright. Before she could, he’d stood up and tossed the full carton into the trash, because he’d obviously been meant to remember that, and Axel believed in signs when it suited him.
Some things, though, he’d never forgotten. He remembered meeting Demyx for the first time, crystal clear. He easily recalled the way that the blond had been waiting for them under a dark hood, sprawled on a bench like he owned it. He easily remembered the way Demyx had grinned at them, all summer days and surfboards, and told them that if they fucked this up, he’d put a bullet in them personally. Axel hadn’t liked him then, wouldn’t like him later, and didn’t like him now.
And then there was the night that Kairi had gotten involved. She’d always technically been involved as their information analyst, a fancy term that really just meant that she got to boss them around, interrogate them, and then tell their supervisors the prettied-up version of what was going on. DiZ never found out about the nights that Axel spent hitting the bars or just how Riku got the good information out of Marluxia, because Kairi always ran damage control, and only told him what he needed to know. Axel’s coping skills and Riku’s investigative methods weren’t what he needed to know.
They did what they had to do.
It had been a surprise visit by the higher-ups, who had apparently been in the neighborhood. Kairi had been at the kitchen table instead of in the bedroom where she usually was, safely hidden away from the line of fire, and that apartment was supposed to be a safer place anyway. She had only had the time to close out the important stuff and hide the stack of files under the mess covering the kitchen table before Xemnas had strode in past Riku, the whole lot of the rest in tow. Larxene had been the first to notice her there.
“Well! And who’s this?” the blonde had asked, smiling like a cat after a bird.
“My sister,” Axel said just as Riku said, “My girlfriend.” For a moment, no one moved, and the Organization simply looked at them. Finally, Kairi stood up.
“Kairi,” she said strongly, planting her shaking hands on her hips and looking Larxene over. “I love your shoes.”
And from then on, Kairi had played the part of the gangster’s girlfriend and the gangster’s sister, filling her wardrobe full of tight jeans and knock-off tags, throwing in some black leather for good measure. She wore too much makeup and earrings that freaking touched her shoulders, and stayed as close to Axel, Riku, and Demyx as she could.
After that, the rest of it ran together. He remembered having to prove himself, he remembered getting drunk a lot, and he was pretty sure he may have helped rob a bank at one point, and possibly may have trafficked drugs through to Nebraska. One afternoon, he woke up with Riku icing tattoos on his cheeks, diamonds of all things, like he didn’t already look like a clown, but he wasn’t too sure how he’d gotten them. He didn’t feel like he had a hangover, and he didn’t remember losing at cards, but Riku looked grim, so he didn’t ask. Months later, when he’d let it slip out that he didn’t remember, Riku had refused to look at him. “Good,” he’d said quietly, and Axel left it at that.
“A-Axel… Oh, god, Axel, we…”
Riku’s breath had hitched and Axel had shot up from where he’d been lying on the crappy sofa, because his best friend was fucking crying over the phone, and he could hear Kairi in near-hysterics and Demyx was saying something in the background. He was grabbing his jacket off the coffee table and was out the door before Riku could find the breath to speak.
“…I-I killed him.”
He remembered picking them up, remembered the tears streaming down Riku’s face and the way that Demyx was holding Kairi up, forcing her to take one step after another. He doesn’t know exactly how they covered it up, just that it didn’t fucking work, because the next memory he had was in the middle of an April night.
This time, when he answered, there was nothing but silence.
He had pulled it away from his ear and looked at the number, and sure enough, it was Riku’s. He called Riku’s name, but all he got was something rustling in response, and that didn’t sit too well with him. He shook his head and hung up, figuring that Riku’s butt had called him again, even if there was a little voice inside his head telling him that no, something was horribly wrong.
He’d set the phone down again and laid back down in the dark, but it was only a few seconds later before the phone rang again, and this time it was Demyx.
“It’s over, man, they know,” the blond had said in a rush, like he was running out of time, and it hit Axel. Time was already up. And if time was up and Riku was sending silent calls…
Shit. He didn’t want to think about that.
“I’m droppin’ baby girl off with DiZ. They’re taking Riku to the warehouse by the river.”
The warehouse was already on fire by the time Axel had gotten there, black smoke rolling out the two-by-fours boarding up the windows and billowing through the broken glass up into the sky. He had spared a moment to stare in horror before sending a prayer up to whatever god was willing to listen before crashing his way through the door and throwing himself into the flames.
The warehouses by the river were big, filled with crates, most of them on fire and crackling in the heat as Axel ran past them. He crouched low and held a hand over his mouth, calling out Riku’s name through his fingers. His throat grew hoarser by the second, smoke burning its way into his lungs, until he finally succumbed to coughing in the middle of Riku’s name, stumbling and falling, just barely aware enough to dodge a falling fireball of a crate.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, coughing, a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him up all the way. The blur threw Axel’s arm over his shoulders and half-dragged, half-ran him toward the exit. Axel tried to pull out of his grip and turn away, coughing out Riku’s name, but his head was spinning with the lack of oxygen, and it was simple for the other, smaller figure to pull him back toward the door again.
There was a flash of silver and he felt an ounce of strength return as recognition flashed across his mind, just enough to let him pull himself out of the other’s grip and sprint over to the crumpled form. Dismay filled him as he found that it wasn’t Riku, but instead the head bastard himself, barely conscious.
“Would you get your ass over here before you get us killed?!” the smaller man shouted, his words fading into a cough. Axel looked over at him, and everything was still blurred and hazy with smoke and heat, then down at Xemnas, lying at his feet, the man who was the reason that Riku was probably burning alive somewhere in the warehouse.
It only took him a split second to decide. He set his jaw and dropped to one knee, swearing mentally as the jerky movements drew another coughing fit from him. He heard a crash somewhere, the roof caving in, no doubt, and pulled Xemnas’ limp arm over his shoulder, attempting to drag him to his feet and finding that he didn’t have the strength.
“You reckless, stupid son-of-a-bitch,” he heard the other man growl behind him before he leaned over and helped Axel drag Xemnas to his feet, shuffling them both toward the door. “I swear to God, if this gets us killed, I’m kicking your ass straight through Hell’s floor.”
Axel didn’t have the breath to reply.
They made it out alive, at least, and got a good twenty or so feet away before Axel collapsed to the concrete, black edging at his vision and the world swirling around him.
“Come on,” the smaller man, and he had to be an angel or something, because only an angel could have eyes that blue. “You can make it.”
He pulled Axel up again and somehow, they managed to get away from the danger zone of smoke and flames, Xemnas held up between them. This time, when Axel fell, the blue-eyed angel let Xemnas fall in order to catch the redhead before he hit the concrete. Carefully, he lowered Axel to the ground and yanked a cell phone out, just as Axel remembered Riku.
“He’s fine,” the other said, brushing a little bit of singed hair off of Axel’s smoke-blackened face. “He’s nearby, I promise. It’s gonna be okay.”
Axel let his eyes close, the words echoing in his head. His last memory was of vivid blue eyes and a soft hand and a quiet voice telling him that it was going to be okay.
Axel remembered his angel.
Kairi remembered the little things. She remembered how much she hated the smell of Axel’s cigarettes and the way the inner-city never actually slept. There had been flowers embroidered on the curtains that she had bought to close out the neon lights so she could sleep, and Demyx’s laugh had always made her want to hop the next plane for sunny California. He’d had tin foil over his windows to keep the neon lights out in his room. Riku had always looked good in black.
She remembered the subtle things, the ones that were little, but big too. Axel always liked to have a six-pack in the fridge. Demyx’s sea-breeze smile had always had a little bit of a rain somewhere along the edges. Riku’s eyes had been dead that morning, and Marluxia was wearing a self-satisfied little smile every time she had seen him that day. Luxord had always watched her like a hawk, a small smirk on his lips.
She remembered, once, the way she’d finally gotten annoyed enough by Axel’s cigarettes to say something. “Those things’ll kill you someday.”
Axel had shrugged and smirked, lighting one of the smokes in question. “If I’m lucky, they’ll hurry up about it.”
She remembered meeting Demyx for the first time, the way he had sat on their couch and played every song she could think of, from “American Pie” to “Ziggy Stardust.” His voice had been soft and sweet, and the guitar was a little out of tune, and he’d have to show her that Chinese place a couple of blocks over because they had the best sweet and sour chicken he’d ever tasted. He had shown her how to play a chord on the guitar. She didn’t remember the chord anymore, but she remembered that his fingers pressing hers to the strings were warm.
Afternoons were her favorite memories, though, when Axel and Riku were out playing their parts and she was stuck in a crappy little apartment with just her laptop for company. Demyx came by, and she figured that he was just looking for a break from being a bad guy, because he seemed to smile a little brighter around her. He didn’t try to teach her anymore chords, but the guitar was always with him and he’d play for her, and Jesus, she loved to hear him sing. She remembered one day, when it was raining outside, he played her a song that she didn’t know. It sounded like a lullaby, though, sweet and soft and filled with promises, and his fingers kept playing even when he had leaned over the guitar. His kisses, she decided, tasted like tropical fruit and the open sea.
Larxene was hard to forget. She had latched onto Kairi, apparently thrilled to have a shopping partner. She had helped pick out Kairi’s gangster wardrobe, and she’d taken her to get her nails done at the best place in the ‘hood, where the little Vietnamese guy rattled on and on like Kairi could understand him, and she’d actually had fun. Of course, that had been before she’d seen Larxene lacing a water bottle with cyanide and leaving it in the vending machine, just because she could. Demyx had gone behind her and taken it out, but Kairi still had nightmares about what kind of person could have taken a fatal drink.
Vexen had always given her chills, she recalled. Even the name made her shudder now, made her think of cold scientist’s eyes and the way he had always looked at her like a specimen to be collected. Axel had once warned her to stay away from him. “Everything’s an experiment to him,” the redhead had said. “One wrong step and you’ll wind up a lab rat.” She had tried avoiding him and found it a relatively easy task, the scientist preferring to keep to his notes and his research than to go retrieve “protection fee” from the locals.
The others she had only met a few times, but she remembered them easily enough. Xigbar liked his guns. Xaldin was a manipulative bastard. She’d only heard Lexaeus speak once. Zexion had always been polite. Saïx had an unhealthy obsession with the moon. Marluxia had a garden. Xemnas had a superiority complex, but everyone knew that.
But her most vivid nightmares came from Luxord. Luxord had played poker, all kinds. You name it, he could tell you the rules and the right way to cheat at it. Some of the Organization had thought him the luckiest man alive. Kairi was there the night his luck ran out.
It was raining that night, she remembered. He’d been waiting for them under an umbrella when they came out of the apartment building, Kairi on Riku’s arm like she was supposed to be and Demyx striding alongside them, holding their own umbrella over their heads. Luxord was smirking, and his predator’s grin widened when he saw them.
“Hey, man!” Demyx had shouted, waving and grinning. Luxord didn’t give his customary nod of acknowledgement. Demyx’s grin had faltered a bit. “What’s up?”
“I’d like to place a little wager,” the man had said. “Tell me, how much are you willing to ante up for this?”
He held up a sheet of paper and Kairi felt her heart stop as she found herself looking at an email that she had written a week before, detailing the Organization’s plans for a drug run, addressed to DiZ.
“…What exactly do you want?” she heard Riku ask quietly, reaching for the paper. Luxord snatched it away before he could grab it.
“What can you offer? And it had better be good,” Luxord had smirked at her. “I’m sure Xemnas would love to hear exactly why all of his recent business ventures are being foiled.”
“We’re not in the mood for your games,” Riku had growled.
“Then I’ll make it clear.” He reached forward and, deceptively gentle, traced a finger down Kairi’s cheek.
She would never be exactly sure who moved first. Demyx had lunged at about the same time that Riku had yanked her away from him, the blond’s guitar case falling to the ground. The two blonds crashed into a nearby car, locked in struggle, Demyx’s hands around Luxord’s neck and Luxord’s fists clenched in Demyx’s shirt. Kairi watched as Luxord slammed a knee up, straight into Demyx’s stomach, causing the blond’s grip to slacken just enough for Luxord to throw him off. Riku pulled out of her grip and threw himself into the fray, but Demyx was already on the ground and Luxord was bigger than Riku and ready for the fight. Riku didn’t see the way the blond braced himself, never expected Luxord to be able to slam him into the hood of the car so hard that he dented it.
Kairi remembered that he’d always been crap at fighting.
Luxord turned his focus on her then, taking a step forward and jolting Kairi into motion. She took a step back and fumbled at her jacket with shaky hands, stepping backwards as he stepped forward and damn it, where the hell was her gun?!
He suddenly stopped, yanked backwards by the collar as Demyx hauled him back and slammed him into the car again. Luxord elbowed back, catching Demyx in the ribs and switched their positions, pressing the smaller blond up against the car instead. Kairi froze as she caught a glimpse of metal in the neon lights and her fingers closed around her Ladysmith, thank god. She aimed as the knife pressed against Demyx’s throat, swearing when her hands shook so much that she couldn’t get a proper sight on the bastard, pressed her finger against the trigger. Luxord looked back at her, drawing a thin line of blood from Demyx’s throat, just a shallow cut.
She froze as he met her eyes. Her mind was screaming to pull the trigger, pull the fucking trigger before he could press that knife any deeper and silence that soft, sweet voice forever, but her fingers wouldn’t listen and her hands were still shaking and-
There was the sound of thunder crashing above them.
The knife slipped from Luxord’s hand and his grip loosened from Demyx’s shirt as the blond crumpled down. The gun fell from Kairi’s nerveless fingers as she watched the blood trickle out from a hole in Luxord’s head that hadn’t been there before. Demyx didn’t move for a minute, but Riku was standing up, his gun still in his hand, looking shocked as though he couldn’t believe that he had just pulled the trigger.
Demyx was the first to reach her and pull her close, pressing her face into his chest and shielding her from the blood running down the pavement with the rain, coloring it a sickening red. Somewhere in her mind, she was aware that the strange, sobbing little breaths were being wrenched from her own throat, and her knees gave out when she heard Riku say in shock, “…I-I killed him.”
Demyx caught her.
That had only been a month before it had all gone to hell, a month before Demyx showed up at the door to his apartment instead of somewhere on the interstate running drugs, without his guitar and a wild, scared look in his eyes. He’d shoved all of her notes into a bag and handed her a gun, telling her to fucking use it this time if she had to. It had hit her somewhere between Eureka and “I’m droppin’ baby girl off with DiZ” that it was all over, and she was lucky to be alive.
The car ride had been quiet after that, though she was pretty sure that she had cried and Demyx had promised that it would be okay. They hit the small, quiet house somewhere around midnight and he had led her inside, flipping on lights and calling for DiZ. When she had simply stood in the foyer, a mantra of “It’s over” echoing through her mind, he had taken her by the hand and had sat her down on the couch, and wrapped her in his arms. They’d stayed there, and she barely heard Demyx and DiZ speaking over her, mind wandering until DiZ’s phone rang.
“They’re safe.”
Kairi closed her eyes to keep relieved tears back, and Demyx’s arms had tightened around her. Suddenly, she was aware of how exhausted she was, the strain of the past seven months crashing down on her. Demyx’s heartbeat was in her ear and his fingers were warm, laced with hers. She fell asleep to his quiet voice singing some song that she didn’t recognize, but it sounded like a lullaby, and that was the last time she saw him. He had a cover to keep. He was important and she was a risk, and they did what they had to do.
Kairi remembered falling in love.
Riku remembered all of it. He wasn’t keen on forgetting any of it, either, deciding that someone needed to know what had gone down and be able to tell DiZ. Someday he’d probably have to testify, if they actually got their shit together and managed to catch the Organization. The way his luck was running, though, he’d be taking most of it to his grave, and that grave was being dug deeper with every mile they drove.
His first impression of Demyx was that the blond had been living a double life for way too long. His bright smiles were desperate, his eyes were always watching, and Riku had no doubts that he’d make good on his threat of putting them six feet under if they screwed this up for him. He was good at playing his dangerous part, and his was too important to compromise over a couple of rookie cops and a little girl. Of course, if they fucked this up, he wouldn’t be alive long enough to kill them, and Riku had a feeling that neither would they. Demyx had been their ticket in. Old acquaintances, he’d told Xemnas. Kids who were tired of walking the straight and narrow.
They’d looked the part then, Axel with his rock-and-roll spikes and his cigarettes and Riku with his cold stares and knowing smirks. They’d played the part beautifully, for awhile, at least. And then suddenly, it seemed, Riku had found himself pointing a gun at a brave bank teller, but Axel was the one who’d pulled the trigger because Riku’s fingers wouldn’t move and if someone didn’t shoot the guy pressing the alarm, the whole operation was going to hell and they were going to wind up dead. He’d been so relieved when Axel asked him how he’d gotten the tattoos. No one needed to remember the scream that Riku still heard when he thought too hard.
Kairi wasn’t supposed to have gotten involved. She was their own little addition, their information analyst, a go-between for them and DiZ. Her fingers were fast on the keyboard and she could hack into Zexion’s systems faster than Zexion could, and it became apparent that she was just as good an actress as they were when Xemnas and the gang had decided to pop by for a visit one afternoon.
“My girlfriend,” Riku had said in unison with Axel’s, “My sister.” He’d waited for it to be completely over then, for Xemnas to draw the conclusions that would lead to their immediate elimination, but Kairi had stood with the grace of a queen and had surveyed the lot of them with her hands on her hips as though she wasn’t scared out of her wits.
“Kairi,” she said matter-of-factly, and then found a way to draw attention away from herself by way of Larxene’s high heels. “I love your shoes.”
Some things he would have liked to have forgotten, however, if only to believe that he wasn’t as tainted as he felt. Marluxia ranked high in this category. Riku wasn’t proud of anything he had done, but the pink-haired bastard ran his mouth a mile a minute when he had something pretty to play with. It was a strange method of gathering information, but DiZ would never know how Riku knew about the bank heists and trafficking runs, and that was fine by him. “You did what you had to do,” Kairi had told him once, and that was all they’d ever said about it. Sometimes, it was just easier to pretend that you could forget.
He’d clung to those words like a prayer when Luxord had shown them that paper, that little piece of blackmail that would send it all to hell. They’d been set in stone when the bastard had actually had the nerve to touch Kairi, because he’d sworn up and down to himself that she wouldn’t have to see what really happened out there. Demyx had acted before him, but blind rage was no help and Demyx was on the ground before he did any actual damage. He’d jumped before thinking as well, and the rain had made the pavement slippery. He had no advantage, and he saw stars and felt the hood dent beneath his body.
The next thing he knew, Luxord had a knife pressed to Demyx’s throat and Kairi’s finger was pressed to the trigger of her handgun. Demyx wasn’t moving, wasn’t actually breathing, and there was blood trickling down his neck. Kairi’s hands were shaking and her eyes were wide. It was in slow-motion, it seemed, and he wasn’t quite sure when exactly he’d pulled out his own gun, but the thunder crashed above him and then Luxord was falling to the ground in a heap.
And there was blood. So much blood.
“Axel,” Demyx had said breathlessly, reaching for Kairi and pulling her close. “Call Axel.”
Riku’s hand almost wouldn’t move to his pocket, because his eyes were transfixed on the bloody sight before him and fuck, it was his fault. Oh god, what had he done?
“A-Axel… Oh, god, Axel, we…” He’d stopped breathing then, when it hit him, what he’d done, and that was Luxord dead on the ground before him, Riku’s bullet through his brain. It was storming, but it wasn’t rain trickling down his cheeks. “…I-I killed him.”
They did what they had to do to stay alive, he remembered.
It was a month later when Death finally came to dance with him. Kairi had gone over to work at Demyx’s apartment, claiming that Axel’s cigarettes were bothering her. Demyx was supposed to be doing a run to Iowa, and Axel was dead to the world on the couch. He’d gone for a walk, that was all, just to go get dinner, because the Chinese place a couple of blocks over had the best sweet and sour chicken he’d ever tasted. Something went wrong somewhere between the corner of Brook and Mississippi Avenue and the Chinese place, because he’d just been walking along when someone grabbed him from behind, pressed a cloth over his mouth and nose, and he saw black.
When he came around, he was still seeing black, though he had a feeling that had something to do with being shoved in something small and dark instead of being unconscious. A long strip of what he supposed was duct tape had been pressed over his mouth. He tugged at his hands and found them bound tightly behind them, the rope cutting into his skin and feeling slowly ebbing out of his hands. He swallowed and forced himself to keep calm, even as the black seemed to close in around him and slowly press down on his lungs, shortening his breath as he considered all the possibilities, the foremost being that he had been buried alive.
Something shifted behind him, though, and then everything shifted, including himself, and he came to the realization that he was moving. He shifted and hit something hard and unforgiving, wincing when it drove his cell phone painfully into his thigh. The small LED light shone through his pocket, and a moment later, he heard Axel.
“Hey, man.”
He tried to make a sound, but the duct tape muffled his voice, and then he was sliding to the side again.
“Riku?”
Shit! He shifted again, tried to make some noise that would raise suspicion or something, but he slid back toward the spare tire again. He hit it, and the phone dug painfully into his thigh again, and the line went quiet, and despair settled in again.
It seemed like an eternity later when they stopped, and he heard the slamming of a couple of car doors. A moment later, somebody popped the trunk, and he found himself glaring up at Larxene’s smirk. “Morning!” she chimed brightly, and Lexaeus reached in and hauled him up, dropping him painfully to the concrete. One of them kicked him onto his back and Larxene bent down and lifted his chin with a finger.
“Xemnas isn’t too happy with you,” she had said with a little, terrifying giggle, and then straightened. A split-second later, she slammed her boot into his side, and a pained sound escaped Riku as he felt a rib or two crack and bruise.
Lexaeus yanked him to his feet, the motion sending pain shooting through Riku’s side, and dragged him into the warehouse, Larxene following. The smell of gasoline hit him when they walked through the door, and fear chilled every inch of him, now very sure about what was about to happen and very sure that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. The smell of gasoline grew stronger with every step that Lexaeus dragged him, and he noticed that the crates seemed to be doused around him, but the concrete floor was dry. Of course they wouldn’t want to get any gasoline on themselves. Being a walking bomb was probably not what they had in mind.
The whole gang wasn’t there waiting for him, at least. It was just Xemnas and Zexion waiting, and for a moment, Riku was confused as to why the latter was even there. That was before he saw the cigarette held in artistic fingers, already lit, and he swallowed. Xemnas was smiling, and he waved a gracious hand toward a rickety chair that seemed out of place in the warehouse. Riku apparently had no choice but to sit in it, Lexaeus’ large hands shoving him down in it and trapping his ankles to the legs of the chair with two pairs of handcuffs. The irony wasn’t lost on Riku.
“Well, well,” Xemnas said, looking around at the crates drenched in gasoline. “You know the rules. Traitors must be eliminated.”
And that was the cue for Larxene and Lexaeus to take their leave, the former planting a kiss on Riku’s cheek and murmuring a bright farewell before she leaved to get clear of the warehouse and the fireball it was about to become. Zexion turned as well, taking a last drag of his cigarette before tossing it at a crate somewhere down the row, immediately igniting the first. He leisurely left as Xemnas approached Riku.
“Scared? Terrified, perhaps?” the man asked as the second crate caught fire. “Hm. I wouldn’t know,” he went on as though Riku had actually responded. “I don’t feel a thing.”
And then he was gone, and Riku was alone in the warehouse, watching as the fire spread rapidly around him, lighting crate after crate. In seemingly no time at all, it had spread so close that Riku could feel it, flames licking out and nearly burning him. The crates behind him caught as well, then spread to the crates on the other side and Riku was surrounded, left helpless and bound in a room of fire. His hands were working furiously at his bonds, but the lack of circulation made his fingers heavy. The fire crackled and cracked like a whip, and he heard a crate nearby creak and finally splinter, falling in a pile dangerously close to him. He swore behind the duct tape and attempted to scoot the chair to the side, managing to succeed only in falling over, which put him in a position of being close to the burning crates.
Another crate fell somewhere behind him, the heat on his back but not quite burning him yet, and his breath caught as he sucked in only smoke through his nose. He was too close to the fire now, only taking in smoke and not enough oxygen, his vision blurring. His head fell against the concrete as another crate fell to the ground somewhere, and he finally just closed his eyes as another crate smashed to the ground.
“Riku!”
Shit, now he was hearing things too. Was he not allowed to die sane?
The duct tape was ripped from his mouth and his eyes opened slowly as he breathed in, only to cough again a moment later. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn’t see anything but smoke and flames, but he could swear it felt like someone was untying his hands, and a moment later, he could move his feet as well. The someone pulled him up, throwing Riku’s arm across his shoulders.
“I swear to God, if you die on me, I’m dragging your ass out of hell so you can explain it to my boss!”
His legs were refusing to work, and the other was dragging him to the exit, dodging crates and flames. At one point, the other stumbled and nearly dropped him. “Shit, man,” the smaller panted. “You’ve gotta help me out here. You can make it, asshole.”
Riku set his jaw and opened his eyes as best he could, telling himself that he could make it if he just got his shit together and got the fuck out of there. It was slow, much too slow than the situation called for, but somehow he made it out, and somehow the other managed to get him safely away before his vision finally escaped him, and the last thing he heard was the other swearing and leaving him there on the concrete.
Riku remembered surviving.