[012] // [Video] // One Missing Friend and a Sick One
[Xion doesn't look much better than Axel does, at this point -- but at least she's not sick.]
Does anyone know what you're supposed to do to cure a cold? [Because she hasn't been letting Axel do much because he's sick, but she also doesn't really know what will help make him better.] Just...any kind of medicine, or some foods ( Read more... )
Does anyone know what you're supposed to do to cure a cold? [Because she hasn't been letting Axel do much because he's sick, but she also doesn't really know what will help make him better.] Just...any kind of medicine, or some foods ( Read more... )
She managed to fall asleep at about midnight, slept for an hour or so, and then was awake again, and she couldn't make herself sleep. Every time she dreams, she sees Roxas, and sees him disappearing, and wakes up feeling worse than before -- while immediately thereafter trying to find something to keep herself distracted with.
But in the wee hours of the morning, there wasn't much to do -- and she didn't want to wake Axel.
There were a few stray sheets of paper on the floor, covered in awkward little drawings in marker. She'd tried keeping herself busy with that, which she'd only done for about an hour before crawling back into bed and trying to sleep.
So far, no dice.
Sighing, she gets up, and wanders out of her room, trying to be as quiet as possible. She figured she should check on Axel, to make sure he's all right, maybe get him some water if his fever's too bad.
She gets out to the living room, and tip-toes to Axel's side.
Immediately, worry springs through her. He looks...worse, even more uncomfortable -- even though he's asleep. Ever so gently, she rests her small hand against his forehead, checks his temperature as best she can without waking him.
...it's definitely worse.
She has to pull back quickly -- but as lightly as she can without waking him -- and then retreats to the kitchen, coming back with some tylenol and a glass of water. Xion goes back to the couch, and with the hand that has the medicine, she carefully shakes Axel's shoulder, trying to wake him as tentatively as possible.]
Axel?
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[Much to Xion's chagrin, he's actually spent most of the day trying not to sleep, because every time he closes his eyes he keeps seeing the same thing, hearing the same thing. That dark road by Memory's Skyscraper and Roxas' retreating silhouette, the hiss of rain and that harsh, angry edge in Roxas' voice.
'No one would be sad without me.'
'That's not true! I... would be sad.'
[He knows that's not why Roxas left Vatheon. He knows it's not his fault this time, but somehow he still wonders if he didn't screw up somewhere after all. He watches Roxas' figure grow smaller and smaller until his whorl of yellow hair vanishes into the shadows, obscured by the rain... Why is the rain so hot? It was never this hot before. It's stifling, smothering, like every drop is made of lead that settles like another weight on his shoulders, dragging him down.
[The Shadows that lurk along the wet cobbled roads can smell fear, sense uncertainty... all those things he's not supposed to even be able to feel. They shimmer up out of the ground like living ink, their eyes glowing sallow in the darkness, their claws tugging at his coat. He doesn't even care somehow, his eyes still searching for Roxas' yellow hair in the distance. It's not until they start dragging him down to the ground that he begins to panic. Wait, wait, this isn't right! If they pull him down into the darkness then he can't go after Roxas! And what about Xion? She's not even there--where is she? Did something happen to her?
[He struggles, but everything moves in slow-motion, his body is too heavy and the rain is too hot--he can't breathe. His knees buckle and he crashes to the ground, the hot rain falling all around him, the darkness swallowing him up, and he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't--
[With a rough, sharp gasp Axel snaps awake with a start, instinctively in defensive mode. Groping blindly, his fingers close tightly around the claws of the Shadow pulling him down and he wrenches it away from him, baring his teeth. If they think they can take him down so easily, they've got another thing coming, and--
[Wait.
[His eyes focus suddenly as a squeak of pain meets his ears, and the dark shape beside him sharpens into a figure, small hands, a familiar face. He quickly opens his hand to release the thin wrist trapped in his grip and drapes his arm over his eyes.]
Xion. Light, you startled me... [A beat of silence and he peers at her from beneath his arm, the discomfort on his face now tinged with contrition.] Did I hurt you?
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This hurt.
The noise of pain is automatic, if quiet, her big blue eyes widening, seeming to grow bigger as she stares at Axel. She's practically frozen in place, by the painful pressure, the surprise, all of what she couldn't have been expecting.
She's incredibly grateful when he seems to realize that it's her, not whatever monster he may have conjured up in his mind. Swallowing around the knot in her throat, she retracts her arm, and doesn't notice until he speaks that she hasn't been breathing.
She hitches on an intake of breath as she tries getting air to her lungs. He looks up at her, and she meets his eyes, then manages to snap herself out of her own confused daze, shaking her head.]
N-no. I'm fi-fine. [It's a lie, certainly, but he hadn't meant to do it, and she didn't want him to feel (Light, what was it these past few days about "feelings"?) bad about an accident.]
Just-- dropped the water.
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No, you're not fine. Forget the water--did I hurt you?
[Pulling his hand away from his head and hoping it doesn't actually float off his shoulders like it feels like it really wants to, he reaches carefully toward her, his palm upturned--it's an offer, not a demand. He's had years of training learning how to defend himself and inflict maximum damage on other people, and Xion's the last person he would ever want to really turn those abilities against. There's something like real fear in her eyes and the fact that she's looking at him like that makes that thick tightness in his chest constrict even tighter. ... No, it's just the cold, right?] Don't-- I mean, I'm...
[A sigh and he shakes his head.]
I'm usually a really light sleeper, you know that. You sc-- scared me, I thought... [Nngh, dammit, he sucks at this honesty thing. His voice is thin.] Sorry.
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I-it's nothing. Don't worry about it.
[She's not sure what had been going on in his dreams, but he certainly seemed shaken by it, and she can't help worrying about that; now's not the time to prod, though.]
Sorry. [She echoes his apology, glancing away from him, her eyes falling on the glass, the water that soaked into the carpet.] I just-- came to make sure you were o-okay, and your fever was worse and I wanted to bring you medicine for it... [And she hadn't known any other way to wake him. She probably could have shouted at him to get him up, but that wouldn't have been pleasant at all -- and certainly wouldn't have helped how bad he felt.] I didn't know how else to wake you up.
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Don't say it's nothing when it's not. [It's chiding, but not accusatory. He knows he could have hurt her badly, half out of his wits as he was, and he knows she knows it, too. He's just glad he didn't. Just because he knows how to hurt people doesn't mean he enjoys it. Really, he would sooner fall on his own chakram than see Xion hurt, much less be the cause of it. Leaning back into the couch he takes a moment to try and clear his head and stop his vision from warping and blurring. His eyes squeezed closed and his fingers tangled in the blanket, he says,] And don't apologize. You're the one looking after my sorry ass, so don't apologize.
[There's a beat of silence and he chances to open one eye, venturing a watery hint of a smile.]
I'm lousy with gratitude. Nobody's taken care'a me since I was a kid, you know?
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She returns a small smile, shaking her head.]
It's okay. It's...not like you really knew what was happening. [He still seems a little out of it, but that's probably just because he's still sick.]
You do things like this for friends, though, right? I-I mean, taking care of them. [She adds quickly. ...yeah, that could have come off wrong.] So it isn't like I mind. You don't need to thank me, either. [Because she knows it's hard for him to say it; she appreciates it every time he does, but she knows it's hard.
With another half smile, she reaches down to take the cup, wincing a bit before quickly using her other hand to get it off the carpet.]
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[With a bit of effort, he reaches out and takes the cup from her grasp, setting it on the table and tilting his head to the couch cushion beside him.]
Quit fussing and siddown for a minute. [He waits a moment as she hesitantly obliges, then folds his legs up and peers at her.] You don't have to worry so much. [He shakes his head and tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.] Have you even slept in the past two days? Keep this up and you'll wind up sick too, and that would just be awful, 'cuz I sure as hell dunno what to do with a sick person. I'm the worse nurse ever.
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But she does lean her head back against the couch, kind of sinking into it and looking...frankly, exhausted. She was just so wiped out from not sleeping and running all over the place, and her body just wanted her to stop, even if her mind doesn't agree.]
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Stay.
[And without further conversation he minces around the coffee table, grabs the cup, and goes to the kitchen. The streetlights filtering through the windows are enough to illuminate the apartment a bit--enough to see where he's going, at least--so he leaves the overhead light off to avoid subsequent night-blindness. Filling the cup, he sets it on the counter and then opens the freezer, reaching for the ice cream bars. Something twinges painfully behind his sternum as he takes three from the box out of habit, and he stares at the extra one in his hand before reluctantly putting it back. Shaking his head quickly, he closes the freezer and tucks a roll of paper towels under his arm, then heads back to the couch with water and popsicles.
[He sits down beside her again, handing her both ice cream bars as he sets the water down and folds up a few of the paper towels to sop up the water on the floor. Pressing the towels down with his foot until they're saturated, he leaves them there with a disinterested grunt, then folds his legs up again and reaches for his ice cream bar. Who says you can't have ice cream at four in the morning?]
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It's still good.]
Thanks. [She looks up at him with a warmer smile, still looking exhausted, but at least a little more relaxed.]
That water better be for you. [Laughing slightly, she looks up at him, taking a bigger bite from the ice cream bar.]
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Lamest week ever.
[Taking a bite of his ice cream, he glances sidelong at Xion, at the bruise he can already see darkening the skin around her wrist. Damn, he really did a number on her. She's not fragile, not by a long shot, but despite his thin frame, Axel's stronger than he looks and he knows it. He hates how well he remembers the sensation of guilt.
[Holding the ice cream bar in his mouth a moment, he pulls the blanket up around his shoulders again, then looks back at Xion.]
Hey. You, ah... [He roughly, awkwardly, clears his throat.] You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? [That fear in her eyes before had hit him like a punch in the stomach, and though he's pretty sure she knows it already he thinks it's something that should be said anyway. They're all capable of being dangerous, they were trained well to be that way--Roxas had left him with cracked ribs a few times--but he suddenly needs to know that she knows she's never in danger around him.]
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When he asks her the question, though, her smile softens, warms, and she nods.] I know. You just...surprised me. [And hurt her, but no need to mention that. It wasn't something that wouldn't heal, and it was an accident. She could certainly handle bruises.]
It's okay, Axel. It's nothing. [She tries to make her smile as reassuring as possible.]
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[Axel has many talents, but being a good, open, supportive friend isn't something he's really confident he can put on his résumé. There was a time he really knew the ropes, there was a time he could smile and laugh with abandon, a time he knew what it meant to love his friends, but knowing and remembering are very different. As much as he questions how necessary a heart may be, as much as he may want to think that Xemnas' crap about no hearts and no emotions is a crock, he's just not sure, and somewhere along the way he thinks maybe he forgot how to act around someone important to him.
[It's not like he's got a great track record. He lost Isa, lost Roxas, and though he had the opportunity to make things right by the kid here, he never managed it back home before he died. Maybe he's just not cut out for this kind of thing, but he's not letting Xion go just because he's got no idea what he's doing. He gives her a look that teeters somewhere between eager and uncertain.]
I'm kind of a jerk, I know that, but I'm done doing other peoples' dirty work, and I'm sick of being a stranger to the only people I actually give a damn about. [Wait, did he actually just say that? ... Maybe it's the fever talking. He shakes his head quickly and thumps a fist against his knee.] So just... trust me, okay? [A frown, and then he averts his eyes, glowering at nothing in particular.]
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She nods, and very briefly, she leans her head against his shoulder before straightening up again.]
I do trust you. [She trusts him and Roxas more than anybody. He surprised her, scared her, but she wasn't afraid of him. She didn't honestly believe that, had he been aware of what was happening, he would have done that.]
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Well, good. Keep it that way.
[It's easier to be his usual terse, abrupt self, even if the words ring true. He'll never be the innocent, wistful person Roxas is, or have Sora's boisterous ardency, but that doesn't mean his friends are any less important to him than theirs are to them. Axel would die for his friends--did die for a friend--and nothing will change that, no matter how awkward he is about it.
[Drawing his knees up and sort of smashing himself into the corner of the couch, he pulls the blankets up over his head and sighs audibly.]
I can't believe that I of all people don't want to go back to sleep.
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