Red and Yellow

[alba_aulbath]

Title: Red and Yellow
Chapter 11: Ashes
Series: Silent Hill/Kingdom Hearts
Rating: R
Summary: Saix, Marluxia, and Demyx are sent on a mission in a quiet place called Silent Hill.





Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!

An ideal dream would be of life and green. To smell the grass fresh, pollen stinging his eyes and sunlight burning his pale skin, but he would never mind it. To open his eyes and see a neverending blue sky with puffs of clouds, to feel the warmth -- it'd almost be like having a heart again.

An ideal dream would be of comfort. Familiar and welcoming faces, golden hair framing blue eyes (though sometimes green) and gentle touches. To remind him he's not so alone, that he hasn't completely made a mess of things.

Ideally, those would be his dreams, should he have been able to dream in the first place.

Familiar territory would be nightmares. Shadows hanging in every corner and hands rough and grabbing; husky whispers chasing after him and the stench of rotting apples. Sometimes there'd be a dead body on a bed or maybe two, sometimes a third on a bad night.

Nightmares were usually different somehow, yet always the same. Sometimes they breathed something to come in the future, or just presenting him with horrors his own and sometimes not.

That is the truth for Saix.

He isn't sure about his own death. He understands it, but can't quite confront it. He remembers it, yet it feels so distant; mostly, there's surprise that he isn't fading away. Perhaps he has no where to go, but to be in Silent Hill, to suffer inside of it. This town must surely be his prison.

He's been hiding, mostly. Where he is, why he is hiding -- he's not sure. The fact that he's very, very alone bothers him. Idly, he wonders where James might be before he remembers that James is probably still alive, unless the Red Devil decided on otherwise.

Not that he claims to understand how that creature works. Him or Valtiel.

Saix is startled to hear something, the sound of something wet yet solid being cut into. He can't smell what it is, but he knows that sound.

He's desperate, even though he knows it's a trap.

He stands anyway, following through the murky corners of his nightmare to locate the source; there are vaguely walls, but it's so dark that he can hardly see any details, anything important and nothing important. The berserker shivers and pulls away as fast as he can from the clinging shadows.

There's a door ajar, where the sound is coming from.

Slowly, he steps inside, just as the door shuts tight behind him. Saix jerks and turns to jiggle the handle, but it doesn't cooperate with him.

"Isaac," a firm voice says.

He freezes before slowly turning his head, eyes focusing on Jimmy from across the room, cutting into red and yellow apples with a butcher's knife.

"Father," Saix says flatly.

Jimmy lifts his head, staring at his son blankly, as though the blood trickling from his head wound wasn't even there. "Is that any tone to take with me?"

Saix clenches his teeth a little. "Forgive my disrespect, Father."

"All is well. You've done your part long ago, Isaac. What are you looking for now?"

In all of... the struggle, all of the wandering, Saix still doesn't have an answer to that. He wants to say Lisa, or maybe even Alessa or Walter or Vexen and at this point he'd really like to see James, too, but none of those answers are right. None of it is the right answer.

He wishes he could loathe the sensation of shame shivering up his spine. "I don't know," he tells Jimmy, awkwardly.

"I suspect you'll have a lot of time to think about it." Jimmy doesn't quite smile. "All the time possible now." He stands, holding up the butcher's knife in his hand. It drips with the juice of the apples he'd been cutting, and he approaches Saix. Instinctively, the Nobody backs away, growling and having not the spine yet to confront Jimmy. "At the moment... we have so much catching up to do."

ashes ashes we all fall down

-=-=-

BLAM!

It happens quickly, before Demyx can even think of what to do. He's managed to avoid heavy injuries, managed to avoid Walter going completely psycho on him, and managed to even save Marluxia from him. However, this is unpredictable. He didn't even think that Eddie would turn and shoot him.

It's abrupt. Too fast for him to react immediately. All he knows is the intense pain in his side and he's dropping to his knees, arms shaking as he holds onto both Marluxia and his shotgun desperately, his grip slipping fast.

He wants to ask Eddie what the FUCK but all that comes out is a series of gurgling. His only relief is Eddie's horrible aim.

"Knew it, you know? You guys, laughin' at me, behind my back!" Eddie is grinning, what the hell's he GRINNING about?!

Demyx lets his grip loosen on Marluxia, keeping him leaned up against his back; his freed up hand grabs onto his bleeding side and he groans and shudders before he can glare at Eddie. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Everybody looks at me th' same way. Don't lie to me, I know what'cher thinkin', Demyx! 'Good for nothin' piece of shit!' 'Nobody wants you around!'" Eddie is readying the pistol again. "Yeah, well -- I'm not gonna be pushed around no more!"

It takes Demyx a moment, but he finds the strength. He grits his teeth and shakily holds up his shotgun. "Shut up," he strains out. "Get the hell away from me, Eddie!"

It does make Eddie hesitate. Man with a pistol versus man with a shotgun; not much of a contest.

"I told you. I, I said..." Demyx can't stand, but he sure as hell can glare at that damn fat pig. "Get the fuck away from me or I'm going to shoot you, Eddie! I'm not joking!"

It sinks in, obviously; Eddie doesn't tremble, but he's deciding that it's not a good idea to piss off a guy with a shotgun. Good. He's turning, and he's running down the other way, down the street, and gone in the fog and ashes and snow.

Demyx shivers and sinks down, barely able to hold himself up.

"You didn't shoot." Marluxia sounds annoyed.

"Oh. Uh, heh. You're still alive." Demyx grins sheepishly. "Um. No." He winces. "I'm... I'm out of bullets. Been out since I shot Walter when he was attacking you."

"Wonderful," Marluxia grumbles. "Reach into my pocket; a man gave me some painkillers. Give it to me."

Demyx hesitates, trying not to feel his side bleeding out that dark stuff that Nobodies have -- Darkness, sometimes they say it is. Still blood, still some kind of blood for them. He swallows and reaches into Marluxia's pockets, groping around blindly until he presses a couple of pills into the other Nobody's hand, retracting his own and trying to press his hands into his own side. He listens and feels XI cough and roughly choke down the painkillers.

Otherwise, it's dreadfully quiet. Just them, Demyx bleeding -- out in this town with snow and ashes falling around them.

It's so difficult to know how much time has passed here, overall. There's the feeling of a day or two, but for Demyx, it feels like weeks have gone by. Too much, maybe it's just too much to take in. He doesn't really know if they'll find Saix and in turn find a way out of here -- he really doesn't. He just hopes, but it seems like every moment of optimism is blowing up in his face somehow.

It's aggravating.

He feels Marluxia moving away from him, finally, before taking his arm and slinging it over his shoulders. "H-hey," Demyx stammers, wincing. "You okay to do that?"

"No," Marluxia mutters. "But we're not going anywhere with you bleeding all over the place, now, are we? The sooner we find Saix, the sooner we can leave this place. Let's move."

To be honest, this is probably the nicest thing that Marluxia has ever done for Demyx. He's not quite sure how to react, but he's positive that self-preservation has something to do with it.

Well, that's fine. Demyx isn't fond of the idea of being left behind, anyway, even if he's not entirely sure he wants to put faith into anyone else just yet.

-=-=-

James remembers these bug-things quite clearly. The giant roaches skittering about their feet in a swarm, rushing down the hallway ahead of them. This guy in the blue coat is walking in front of him, keeping James from seeing Saix up ahead. This... this monster thing, shaped like a human and dressed like that Red Pyramid thing (and Saix, too, now that he thinks of it), it's got a head but not really a face, just skin stitched into a cross-shape or something, and it's pushing Saix along in a wheelchair. There are markings on his shoulders, just like Saix, but...

Anyway, it's pushing Saix in the wheelchair.

Well. Saix's body.

What the hell is he doing, following them? Why aren't the roaches attacking him?

What do they intend to do with Saix's body, anyway?

"You called him Isa," James blurts out suddenly, remembering. Blue Coat Guy called him that. "Why?"

"He told you his name was Saix, didn't he?" Blue Coat Guy sounds amused, and smirks when James nods his head. "Before he performed a ritual, he was Isaac Stone. When we were kids, I just called him Isa."

That doesn't make any sense. "Why would he change his name? How do you know him, anyway?"

Blue Coat Guy glances over his shoulder, looking faintly annoyed. "Don't sound so familiar with him. Didn't you just meet him today?" He turns his head to look on ahead as he continues walking. "After the ritual, he wasn't the same person anymore. I suppose others put the idea into his head that he needed to change his name around and put an 'X' in it."

James remembers the 'X' shaped scar in Saix's face. Did that have anything to do with it, or did Saix always have that scar?

"Isa and I grew up together. I was found, and his father was running things at the orphanage. Why not stick his son with the other children?" Blue Coat Guy rolls his shoulders back a bit. "So what happens to Isa is my concern, and it shouldn't matter much to you."

"How can you say something like that?" He's not sure how true the man's statement is, but James is certain he's concerned about Saix. Why else would he bother to tag along? "It's normal to be worried about someone else. Even... even though he's..."

Blue Coat Guy grins at him. "Give it time, and maybe things will be a little different."

...What the hell does that mean? James blinks at him, baffled, but doesn't say anything.

They make it to the end of the hallway; James jerks at the sight of the Pyramid Head, instinctively reaching for the pistol he's got tucked into his belt. Blue Coat Guy has his hand raised and glares at him over his shoulder.

"Calm down. Stay behind me; he has other business here, anyway."

The stitch-faced creature jerks away from the wheelchair Saix is sitting in; the creature is probably as tall as the Pyramid Head, but it slouches and crawls instead of standing up so powerfully, so proudly. The both of them are pressing their hands against a pair of doors standing in their way, shoving them open. The stitch-faced creature crawls ahead of them and Pyramid Head starts his way closer, heavy boots practically slamming against the floor and squashing the roach monsters along the way.

He stops to stare at James, and James can't help but hold his breath for a moment. It's like that for a moment, and he hears the heavy breathing from under that helmet.

The Red Pyramid thing moves on after a moment, walking on by James.

"I suppose this is it." Blue Coat Guy turns around and looks at James. "Watch him a bit longer for me. Don't mess up this time."

"What-- you're leaving?" James turns to him, even as he starts to leave. "Aren't you his friend?"

"Of course. That's why I have some business to finish off before we meet up again," he responds. "Follow Valtiel into the chamber. He and Claudia will do the rest."

James frowns at the Blue Coat Guy's back, watching him exit down the hallway, away from the chamber. He glances back to the wheelchair, where Saix is slumped to the side, limp as a rag doll. Taking in a deep breath, he grabs onto the handles and gives it a shove, guiding Saix into the chamber.

He did promise. Hell, he's made a few, broken a few, but he thinks... if he can salvage this one, then he can't be that much of a screw up.

Worth a try, anyway, not that he knows what any of this is going to do.

-=-=-

It's quickly easy to be dissatisfied in a place like this. In moments of noise, it pertains to monsters that are hideously worse than any Heartless that Vexen has had any encounter with; this may or may not be due to the fact that he can barely defend himself with the scalpel he had found earlier. It may also be due to the fact that he's completely alone, having been separated from Lexaeus and Zexion during their search for those stupid neophytes.

Ridiculous, all of it.

In moments of silence, it's just as lacking in fulfillment. There's dust, ash, and some snow; fog, mostly. Buildings creak as they should. As he steps into the ghostly movie theater, the boards under his boots are rotted and he's almost waiting for the moment they will collapse under him.

He looks and finds only empty seats and a screen barely holding itself together before him. Old ticket stubs litter the floor, and the only thing perking his interest are a few stray newspaper pages scattered.

Vexen allows himself curiosity, and crouches to read one.

STONE FOUND HEARTLESS

Found just a few years after Isaac Stone's suicide, his father, Jimmy Stone, was found dead a week ago, brutally murdered with his heart removed. The one responsible is still--

The doors behind Vexen slam shut suddenly and he stumbles to stand; there's the sound of footsteps clacking away in the hurry, as if someone is wearing a distinct set of heels. The scientist whirls around and sees only blonde hair and a white dress disappearing into another door, slamming that one closed as well. Cursing under his breath, Vexen tries the exit first.

Locked. And so is the other door, where the person -- he assumes it's a person -- escaped to.

"This is ridiculous," he hisses to himself. Completely illogical--

The room becomes illuminated, a projection on the screen. Numbers blip by, as if to countdown; it begins at seven, but Vexen doesn't quite watch. Something is moving, just out from the corner of his eye. The academic turns sharply, watching something mostly human looking scaling the well without trouble. It looks like it's wearing a smock or a robe or some sort, once white and now stained with substances Vexen doubts he wants to even know about.

He can't tell from this distance, but he's certain there's some sort of markings on the creature's shoulders -- and its face, or lack thereof really, seems stitched together in some shape of an X.

The screen finishes its countdown, in those matter of seconds for observation. It comes to life, more than most anything else in this dreadful town has to offer; colors aren't vibrant, but enough to make him sorely wish he could escape Silent Hill.

"--ashes, ashes, we all fall down!"

Children -- two boys, two girls -- playing nothing more than a typical game. They purposefully fall in the grass, laughing. All he can glimpse is barely what the children look like; dark hair comes from a boy and a girl, and the other two children are blonde.

The image cuts away, and Vexen can't tell if it matters or not.

The second image is out of focus; all he can squint to see is a woman -- a blonde. A white dress, maybe, with a red sweater. She sits, holding her head. Beside her is a man, which is a little easier to see what he's wearing; typical suit, clean and cut, black hair combed back.

"I don't know. I don't know... what could be keeping her alive, I--"

She turns to look at the man. "I'm sorry, Isaac. I know you care about her."

"No. This is ... hard work on you. And unfair. Dahlia and my father shouldn't be getting you mixed up in this. I should apologize to you."

Her voice lightens. "That's sweet of you to say."

"Well... Not that I should speak badly of my father--"

"Isaac." Her voice becomes firm. She reaches up, fingers running over the front of the man's face. "When will you tell me who did this to you?"

The image finally becomes focused, a close up of a scar on the bridge of Isaac's nose, shaped like an X.

Vexen almost feels his stomach sinking a little.

"...It wasn't-- don't say anything to him--" Isaac pleads.

The film seems to get cut suddenly, the screen going white until new film makes its way in, once again out of focus for a moment before it becomes clear. It's the back of a man, kneeling; long dark hair, combed back, wearing some sort of white robe. His shoulders are bleeding from some sort of complicated design having been freshly burned into them. He stands, a sword in hand. He turns around -- the scar on his face making it apparent as to who it is.

Yet, he looks older than the previous image.

"Are you ready?" says someone familiar, male.

Isaac glances away, but he nods.

"Should you do this, then you will be relieved of your sins, and give birth to the Red and Yellow gods."

"Move," is all Isaac says in reply.

The angle changes; it's a room that looks as though it should belong to a church. It's been cleared away enough. Candles are lit and there are unfamiliar markings on the floor. Isaac steps onto it, bare foot and yet moving with determination and perhaps some elegance. He pauses in the middle of it, and begins to move, arching his arms and turning, in some kind of ritualistic dance.

Vexen isn't sure if he wants to keep watching. He presses against the doors again, trying to get them open, giving them a frustrated shake.

"Don't walk, don't run," lips hiss against his ear.

He jerks away instinctively and turns around, staring into dead, blank eyes. He can't tell if it's supposed to be someone that looks like Saix or Isaac -- maybe both. A body still alive, but covered in dirt as though he's just pulled himself from a grave, or maybe it's flecks of dried blood -- hard to tell. Dark hair that'd been kept well is wild and tangled, looking more like Saix than it should.

The man wears a pair of heavy boots and latex gloves, a wool-looking robe or some kind of butcher's smock. He steps closer, sliding filthy glove-covered fingers against Vexen's face; it makes the academic wrinkle his nose in disgust, but he has no room to pull way, nor strength to shove him off.

"Are you going to find me when it's done?" The man's voice is barely better than a rasp, parched and crackling at best. Pale, strong arms are sliding around around Vexen's neck and pulling him unwillingly near.

When the man moves against him, keeping the same elegance as the film on the screen suggests he has, Vexen minds a little less -- but he remains stiff. Ragged breaths are against his ear and neck, and the scientist tries not to feel a little sick at the scent of it as he's dragged away from the door. The academic finally starts to struggle against the man; he doesn't find himself in danger, but this isn't suggesting anything pleasant.

The movement continues; dead as the man appears, he's still shifting gracefully against Vexen in some parody of the ritual that's being shown on the screen. Through the gloves he feels fingers with jagged fingernails drag across IV's back. It makes him shiver and Vexen dislikes it.

Eventually, he finds his struggling useless, but as he's not being attacked he puts up with it and trying not to focus at all on the way hips are pressing against his own. Teeth clench down as to prevent any ungodly noises coming from him, and the man breathes a little more harshly into his ear before he suddenly shoves IV into a front row seat. A hand remains to Vexen's shoulder as to keep him pinned; Vexen gives a noise of disapproval.

The man doesn't seem to care or notice; he moves, placing himself against Vexen's lap, squirming against him far too suggestively. Lips are pressing against his ear again, just for a moment -- he feels a tongue and that's enough to pull a verbal something from the scientist at the way it feels.

"I'm all around. I'm no where to be found. Will you find me again?"

Vexen doesn't answer, he doesn't make sense of it-- and blast, he's not going to groan at the way the man is grinding against him right now.

There's a loud siren that goes off. Slowly, the man pulls away, and it looks more like Saix than it should. An index finger presses against his lips, a hushed noise hissing from the scarred, dead-looking man as he steps away.

Vexen can't keep his attention locked to him. The screen is livid with color suddenly that grabs his eyes; Isaac slams the tip of his sword against the boards, then turns the blade over to prop it into the hole in the wood. He hesitates.

Then he falls forward, allowing himself to be impaled on his own sword where his heart is located; there's a moment of trembling before his body goes still.

The screen darkens--

"--ashes, ashes, we all fall down!"

--and the film stops, leaving the theater dim. Vexen sees no traces of the man that'd just been there.

He slumps back in his seat and holds his hand over his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to think about the nonsense that'd just happen.

-=-=-

"We need to find a way out of here." Zexion's tone is snapping, and he knows it. He can't care; a part of him knows it's impossible to, and he sees no reason to contain himself right now. He doesn't have anything to hide from Lexaeus, anyway. "We need to leave, right now -- forget the others."

It's not rational. The Superior would be incredibly displeased with them if they left with no answers, but Zexion can't find logic in this.

Maybe he doesn't want to, entirely.

"Zexion," Lexaeus says, in that patient voice he's always had, even as Elaeus. "We'll be all right. We simply can't be split up, not with the way this place works."

"Do you understand it, then?" He's yelling a little more. Whenever he does, Lexaeus is always unmoved. "Have I missed something that makes sense in this place?"

Lexaeus holds up his hand. Sometimes, when Lexaeus doesn't do a thing, Zexion wants to hit him, but like that would ever do anything. "It's been preying on our minds. From what little I do understand, the power in this place bends to the will of whoever is in control. The only way to do that is react to the mind."

"Then do tell, who is manipulating us? I don't enjoy being played with." Especially like that. That had never been something Zexion shared with anyone, if it could be helped, but some people were nosy enough and he simply just trusts Lexaeus.

"I couldn't say, without more information. But it has something to do with Saix." Lexaeus shrugs. "Let's just stay together and figure this out. A few more rooms, and we'll start towards the orphanage. If we can find Vexen and the others, all the better."

Right. The most logical thing to do. Keep gathering information, and they'll go from there.

It's not as if Zexion is an emotional wreck; he can't be. But the monster he'd suddenly been faced with had been much less than pleasant. It had genuinely terrified him, and it bothered him that he'd been helped by some girl who claimed to be like him.

Of course, with how nervous she was around them--

No. That's just crazy, and unlikely.

"Right. Let's take what we have and move on," Zexion agrees, much more calmly. "Though we might want to look into finding some weapons along the way."

"Preferable," Lexaeus agrees. "Let's go, then."

They carry on with their search; Lexaeus returns to the classroom for but a moment to grab the briefcase and the pictures Zexion had been looking at. Isaac Stone, Saix's "other" -- or rather, who he used to be. What sort of man was he?

How important is he to Silent Hill?

Zexion wonders, and he remembers when Vexen first found number VII. IV had been quite smug to discover the first Nobody after their own six, and took advantage of that fact, learning all he could from Saix and hardly sharing a thing. Results from a physical, response to even the most basic of questions.

Vexen turned them all down, save for Xemnas, because one can never say no to the Superior. Though Saix followed Xemnas like a clueless pup, one could say he would almost attempt to be attatched to Vexen's hip.

Almost literally.

Not long after that, Saix became less interesting when Axel appeared. Perhaps, for that reasoning, Saix was never terribly fond of Axel -- especially when the latter had sport in mocking the former in his little games.

But never much was known. Never much did the neophytes share. Not that they, the first six of the Organization, were that open either.

Still, you'd think they would be a little more obedient.

"Where did you find the drawings?" Lexaeus asks absently.

Zexion turns and approaches one of the desks in the classroom, tapping it. "This one."

Nodding and following him, Lexaeus opens the top. There are a variety of drawings inside, all crude and childish. He does lift a piece of paper, and Zexion moves to see it.

It's written in crayon.

deer alessa

I'm sorry I cuddnt protect you

I'm going to visit you soon!!! Dont tell Miss Dahlia or Daddy!!!

"Poor spelling. No wonder he never does written reports," Zexion mutters.

"I imagine he was only about eight years old," Lexaeus comments. "Perhaps we should work on finding out who Alessa is, then."

-=-=-

He can't remember how this happened.

He still smells apples. Fresh apples, rotten ones, even the green ones he hates, and there's red and yellow -- he smells it and tastes it and gags on it, even as he feels Jimmy's hands pressing down on his throat. There's the feeling of a mattress on his back, his limbs strapped down, like the time he'd been trapped on the gurney in the hospital.

Jimmy is looming over him, hands tightening on his neck, and Saix can barely breathe.

"Just a little longer," his father is whispering into his ear. "A little longer, and we'll have so much time to catch up with each other."

There's tugging. Saix is pulling at his bonds and starts to squirm, but somehow he feels too tired.

And he dreads. No, no, he can't stay here--

"What drew you back, my little boy?" his father whispers into his ear. "What are you looking for?"

And there's a different kind of whispering, a different voice, the same voice:

just a little longer no harm at all

ashes ashes we all fall down

-=-=-

The interior of the chamber is an unusual one -- not that James has been to many churches in his time, especially in recent memory, but regardless there is something terribly odd about it. There's a lack of marble, lack of wood. Most of it is composed of chains and metal gratings lining the floor and walls. There's a pedestal and a gurney set up in the center, while there's a woman waiting nearby.

She's a bit younger than himself, long hair and barefoot. She gives him a careful look, and nearby crawling on a grate against the wall is that creature, the thing that Blue Coat Guy called Valtiel.

The roaches are everywhere, squirming and hissing and scattering as James approaches. They've never done that before; they're usually trying to gnaw and snap at his feet.

How important is Saix in this whole matter?

"Are you... Claudia?" James dares to ask.

"I am." She holds out her hand, gesturing to the gurney. "And you must be James Sunderland." He barely even nods before she says, "Take Isaac to the bed, please. We will begin shortly."

He stops the wheelchair. Carrying the body again is definitely not something that he feels he can do again. Somehow, it just... His stomach is churning at the very thought. Still, he holds his breath and reaches for Saix, taking him into his arms, trying to ignore how cold the body feels.

"What exactly are we doing?" James asks quietly, grunting a little at the weight. Though Saix seemed in need of protection before, he does have muscle. There's an odd much of fragility and ferocity in the man -- yet something equally muting both those things. He settles the body down gently, instinctively brushing hair away from his face; he did the same for Mary, when she was bedridden.

He's sure he did, anyway.

"We're going to step back, and allow Valtiel to do as required," Claudia informs him. "This may take some time, of course."

The lack of answers are a bother. James frowns and slowly steps away from Saix. "Is this some kind of funeral? I don't understand at all."

"A funeral suggests the end of a life. Your answers are around you; simply await to see the truth."

The air is humming, suddenly; the ugly, giant roaches are beating their wigs and hissing and scrambling against the floor and walls. Standing on a ledge jabbing out of the wall is Valtiel, and he hunches over a wheel.

He places his hands onto it and turns with some strain, with a loud shriek of rust.

And turns, and turns--

-=-=-

Vexen jumps suddenly at the sound of a door slamming open; he stands away from the theater seat and turns sharply to see who or what is coming in now. He's taking a step back and holding out his scalpel -- as if it'll even do anything against an enemy.

The exit is, of course, untouched; it's up on the balcony that he sees a man standing. Someone completely unfamiliar, that is; tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, distinctive blue coat. Not at all someone he recognizes. Potentially a foe, of course.

The scientist gives him a wry look.

The man seems to return it. "You... must be him. You know Isa, don't you?"

Isa...? Isaac. Saix. "Where is he?" Vexen surprises himself a little with how demanding his tone sounds. Finding Saix is only important because that is his mission, because he is the center of this whole matter.

That's all.

"Then you're that scientist." The man turns his head away, then mutters. "You don't look so special."

"Excuse me?" Vexen practically snarls, his pride burning. "And just who are you?"

The man in the blue coat points to himself. "Walter. Walter Sullivan."

Vexen remembers that name. The same man who killed Jimmy. Just what story is woven behind Saix?

"Isa told me about you," Walter continues. "You've been taking care of him, right?" He taps his chest, where a heart should be. "Right here. That wound that never heals. The place where he cleaved one into two -- and now there is three."

"You're talking about the ritual." Not that Vexen completely understands what it was for. "No matter what is done to that wound, it never closes. And why--?"

"Who knows the reason." Walter is pulling down the collar to his jacket, leaning his head and revealing his own mess -- blood splattered and drooling out of an injury to his neck. "But it doesn't change for us who die and are born again in this place. It stays, reminding us." He gestures to Vexen. "I'll get you out of here. I'll take you to Isa. So you'd best take very good care of him when you two meet again."

There's no arguing options; Vexen doesn't really have any. Still, he isn't so sure he can completely trust the man who murdered Saix's father -- not that Jimmy seemed particularly sane himself. He frowns and clutches tight to the scalpel, finding the stairs to lead him up and meet with Walter.

The man is intimidating; his size isn't enormous. He's not anywhere near the mass that Lexaeus holds. A bit average, really. It's the way the man holds himself, the way he stands and gazes -- not quite looking at Vexen, not quite meeting his eyes. Glazed over and distant.

It's the way Saix looks at Kingdom Hearts.

It's not hard to tell, after a bit of observing; Vexen has studied other Nobodies for so long that just looking at one isn't difficult to tell. Though very human, he's positive that Walter must also be a Nobody.

Interesting. But he says nothing.

"I'm not understanding just what's happening here." Vexen watches Walter begin to lead the way, and he hesitantly follows him around a corner, out a door -- but not to outside. They're going, somehow, further inside the theater. "What was the ritual that Saix performed? Was it really to clear away 'sin'?" Ha. Sin.

"His position was an honor among the Order. Our religion." Walter doesn't look that pleased. "Alessa was meant to give birth to God. However, the Order lost her. There were other methods, of course. Though there was no way for Isaac to give birth to the God, he could manage to give them something else they wanted."

They begin to step onto more winding-like stairs, into a wide space that shouldn't exist in the theater. Broad, like a dungeon -- stairs intertwining with other stairs, some more broken than the others. Vexen peels his eyes away from noting the meat-hooks dangling down, various body parts he isn't sure are human or monster hanging from them.

He notes a body bag hooked in one of them, long feminine legs and a pair of red high-heel shoes sticking out from the unzipped bottom.

"Lobsel Vith, the Yellow God. Xuchilbara, the Red God," Walter continues, as if not noticing the horrid decor. "All but titles for the creatures that Isa gave birth to. Cleaving his heart in two, halves belonging to different creatures that will forever be part of him, forever indebted to him, forever loving and loathing his existence. Valtiel, and the Red Devil -- the diviner and the berserker. All the same, all the different. White becomes black, black becomes white."

Vexen raises a brow. How true is it all? He's not sure. What did he see in that theater? Was it real? Did he witness a god, truly? No. Just Heartless. Powerful, but only Heartless.

...Isn't it?

Why would Saix sacrifice a heart he's so eager to get back, anyway?

"His father asked him to do it," the man in front of Vexen continues, as if he's just read Vexen's mind. "At first, even then, Isa said no." Walter's voice is distant as they walk down the stairs. Vexen ducks his head, hissing as giant, horrendous roaches seem to hover on by, but at least they're not bothering him. "After Alessa disappeared, Jimmy asked for some years. Had him study, had him learn it all -- and it's the only thing Isa denied him. He was scared, I think. I know I was. But Isa thought he sinned, you see, for inactivity -- and because his father had no love for him. All children want is to be loved by their parents."

Vexen thinks briefly of Xemnas-- no, Xehanort, how much he looked for Ansem's approval.

How, in the end, it was denied. Often. And how much harder Xehanort worked for it, and still nothing.

"So Jimmy turned to him, and said he would love him. He would be proud of him, and it would wash away those sins. Isa caved in. He left for the ceremony, and I... did not see him, until he came back just recently." Walter narrows his eyes. "So different now. Like he's not the same person anymore."

He isn't. Vexen doesn't say it, but he thinks it. "People change."

"I suppose so. How unfortunate." Walter backhands a roach that gets too close to him. "And you? You are he, who has been caring for Isa, all this time."

"I found him." The discovery has always made his ego pleased. "Quite the discovery," Vexen says. "Though he spoke nothing of Silent Hill or the Order. Then again, his focus had always been Kingdom Hearts." And often times, pleasing Xemnas. That makes a bitter taste in Vexen's mouth; perhaps it's no different than Isaac having been trying to please his father.

Did Walter feel frustration from that?

...No. It's not the same thing, Vexen decides.

"Why did you kill Jimmy?" Vexen asks suddenly.

Walter stops -- which is appropriate, since they're near the bottom now. He turns slowly, staring at Vexen. "I could say, because it was for the ritual I am performing. Because having a heart like his would ensure my success. But he took away someone very important to me. It's only equal that I take his heart, when he took Isa's."

Then, Walter turns back to open the door, pointing. "Go on outside. Take a right, head into the church. Follow the roaches."

"Not coming, are you?" Vexen raises a brow.

"I'll be where Isa needs to go," Walter responds, turning away. "Follow the trail, if you want to see him again."

Vexen doesn't say another word. He turns away and takes the exit, all too eagerly.

-=-=-

"Do you remember obedience?" Fingers are stroking through his hair, at the top of his head, dragging through tangles roughly and making him wince. "Do you remember, when you had denied me, my son? Denied me such an important task? Oh, yes. You carried through. I am glad you did."

Fingers curl tight into his hair, pulling. "But you should have agreed sooner. Were you afraid? Were you afraid of death, afraid to lose your life? Afraid of me or what would slither out of your body? Were you a coward? Are you a coward? I do not recall raising such a spineless little creature -- I believe that nurse you liked so much had a rather negative influence on you."

Palms press down against his throat, harder than before, making breathing near impossible, and he can't do a damned thing about it -- he still smells and tastes the rotten apples, nothing fresh anymore, nothing pleasant. Hot breath against his ear, angry and like fire it almost burns.

"I think that we must review forgotten lessons."

And something inside of him hurts, grinding in his stomach, tearing without Jimmy having to really touch him

and it turns, and turns, and turns--

-=-=-

ashes ashes we all fall down

-=-=-

TURNS

-=-=-

And something is touching him, the back of his neck; the grip is tight, almost threatening but not quite. His chest burns and he doesn't hide screaming, trying to writhe away from the grip. There's a voice, or maybe two of them -- he can't quite hear it.

There are hands on his arms. Distinctively gentle.

All he has to see is blonde hair, and he's grabbing onto the person. The hand on his neck doesn't move away, impending -- and he feels. Something.

He feels, in his chest and in his neck, something like... fear. Desperation.

Grief.

"Lisa," he shudders, curling into the arms hesitantly holding him. "Lisa."

It's not quite a sob -- as if he can feel only half of what it should be, but it's still a half more than what he's felt for some years. He doesn't bother questioning it, he simply feels it and holds on tightly to the warmth offered. Hell he feels so cold.

The hand moves away, and the feeling disappears.

He hisses and buries his face against a jacket.

"Do be sure he finds what he's looking for." It's Claudia, somewhere in the room, her footsteps fading away as she steps. Something else.... something else in the room also moves, crawling, jerking--

He doesn't want to look. Saix does not want to look.

"Saix?" James. James. He sounds bewildered -- not quite horrified, not quite in shock, but ready to be. "But... you were-- I don't understand."

Saix pulls away suddenly, pulling his legs to himself and nudges away from James, staring at him. He feels his chest for a moment, not noticing any bullets or wounds, save for the one that never closes where his heart ought to be.

"I was dead," Saix murmurs. Again is the word left out. Becoming a Nobody is a form of death, really.

"Yeah," James responds, a bit stilted. "I was -- I didn't know what to do. I... took you with me. Then this guy in a blue coat showed up with this creature called Valtiel. He told me to take you with Valtiel. Claudia was there, and... all Valtiel did was start turning this wheel."

Saix listens, but can barely absorb the information. He isn't sure what to do, what to think.

He can barely move; he's alive, so to speak, and everything seems to work, but he can't move.

Was he dreaming about Jimmy?

No. He can still smell it. Rotten apples, that taste, and the pressure and pain and the hot, burning breath.

"Thank you," Saix murmurs. "For helping me. I have done nothing to ask for it."

James smiles hesitantly. "...It was the right thing to do. Wasn't it? Besides, it... it was my fault, what happened to you. I didn't think shooting that thing would harm you instead."

Saix shakes his head. "I did not expect it, either. I hold no grudge against you." He turns to finally look at James properly. "Walter... is not here?"

"Walter?" James frowns.

"The man in the blue coat," Saix responds. "Walter didn't stay?"

"No. He said he had something to do. ... Didn't you call that kid 'Wally'? And I'm pretty sure I've heard the name 'Walter' before."

"It's difficult to explain. For now, I..." VII rubs the bridge of his nose. "Just give me a moment. To let me get my bearings."

A hand is on his shoulder. The touch, finally, does not make Saix cringe. "It's all right. Let me know when you're ready to leave, okay?"

Saix doesn't think he'll ever be fully ready, but...

He knows he won't be able to stay here forever.

Briefly, he glances at the floor, then frowns; he sees, scattered across the floor, several dead roaches, giving their final twitches of life before stilling.

Something inside of Saix says that he wishes to not know the meaning of this.