All Good Things 24
Dec. 24th, 2012 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lumelleFor story summary, warnings, pairings, etc, see the first chapter.
Chapter: 24/25
Chapter title: The Final Hurdle
Chapter rating: PG-13
Chapter warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Chapter summary: With Roxas there but not recognising him, Lea is taken over by despair. However, perhaps everything isn't entirely hopeless.
"Roxas?" Now he frowns, wondering just what is going on. "Roxas, it's me. Lea. Axel, remember?"
"I don't know you." His voice is rough, probably from lack of use more than anything, and there's a wild look in his eyes. A frightened look. "Who are you?"
"Uh, just your best friend, doofus." Oh, no. He's not going to be scared. Not even though it feels like his heart is busy freezing over. "Remember? I taught you pretty much everything you know. Well, used to know, anyway."
"I don't remember." And the look in Roxas' eyes is indeed one he would give to a stranger. It's eerily similar to the blank expression he often wore when he started out in the Organization, except that was only right after he had been formed, and now he has been around for over a year if the kids can be trusted. Why wouldn't he have regained his memories, his thoughts?
He recalls his own words to Mickey, now, about why Roxas wouldn't have shown up yet, why he wouldn't have contacted them. Maybe he didn't remember. Except even then, even as he himself brought up the possibility, he never thought for a moment that such a condition wouldn't be reversed the moment he found Roxas again.
He hasn't approached anyone, Lea recalls, hasn't talked with anyone. Maybe that's the reason, maybe it's interaction that really forms him, like it was when he first started to open up to Lea more that he started to show an actual personality the first time around. That could explain why he's still like this, so long after becoming his own person again.
He still should remember Lea, though. Lea never even considered that Roxas might not recognize him, and frankly, this situation scares him.
"I'm your best friend," he repeats, as though that would suddenly make everything better again, as though simply reiterating the point will make it real despite all the evidence to the contrary. "We used to eat ice cream together, up in the tower. You liked watching the sunset."
The frightened look is still there, and Roxas tugs his arm, trying to break free. "Let go of me."
"No, I will not." He cannot, not anymore. "I let go of you once and you disappeared. I've been looking for you for too long to let you go again."
"I don't know you." And there's a hint of desperation in Roxas' voice now, desperation and fear, as though he just very much wishes his words would make him let go, make him leave.
Roxas wants him to leave.
The shock of that realization is enough to make his grip loosen, and all of a sudden Roxas is tearing himself away, backing out of his reach. There's one last frightened glance at him and then he's away, black coat disappearing into the shadows of the thick foliage, soon disappeared without a trace.
For a moment Lea simply stands, too stunned to even react. Then he rushes after him, not about to let go, not now, not again.
As he pushes his way through the forest he's glad he took his cloak off; it would certainly hinder his way through the bushes. Instead, he just finds scratches on his arms, not that he cares much. There's no time to slow down or try to find an alternative route, not when he has to find Roxas, has to be fast enough and smart enough to find him again. Using a bait won't work, not again, and if he lets Roxas slip away now he's never going to locate him again, not after this.
Except he is in the middle of the forest now, with no sign of Roxas, no idea of where he might have disappeared, where he could have gone. All of a sudden he isn't sure he didn't just lose the tracks a long way ago. For all he knows, Roxas could be back on the beach, relieved to be rid of the frightening stranger.
Coming to a halt at last, he leans against a tree, trying to get his bearings. He has no idea where exactly he is. It's not going to be hard to find his way out, the island isn't exactly big enough that he could be lost forever, but at the moment, it feels overwhelming. He's surrounded by trees and bushes, with only the slightest bit of a hint of sky overhead, and for all the time he's spent running from one world to another since facing Xehanort this is the first time that he has felt completely, utterly lost.
Suddenly, Lea feels weak. Leaning even more heavily against the tree, he finds himself sliding down to his knees. Some of the scratches on his arms are bleeding, smearing the bare skin, but he barely even notices.
He's lost Roxas. He's definitely, unquestionably lost Roxas. Nothing could compare with this kind of pain, not even the tearing claws of the hooded Heartless in the Land of Lanterns. It's his heart being torn out all over again, except this time he's sure it will never grow back, it's done that once already and that only served to give him more pain.
Shoulders hunched, he sinks his hands into the ground, trying to find something solid to grasp. He doesn't know what to do, anymore, doesn't know how to proceed. He's found Roxas, after all this time he has seen and touched and talked with Roxas, and it's just not enough.
There's a rustle in the leaves, and his head shoots up, instincts taking over from his despair for a brief moment, hand reaching for the weapon that wasn't there just a second earlier. Just as his hand closes around the handle, a bird flies out, screeching at him before disappearing into the sky, almost mocking him in its freedom. Lea glances after it, then looks down at his weapon, and freezes momentarily.
It's not his keyblade. Instead of the shining image of flames the head resembles the handle he's used to grasping, much like one of his old chakrams, with the handle of this one being a much simplified version of the same, a figure 8 combining the two parts. He stares at the keyblade, trying to figure out where it came from and why it's different. Trying not to wonder just how broken his heart must be for his keyblade to spontaneously take on a different form, one that is all about spikes and tearing and cold metal instead of his familiar warm flame.
Not that it matters. Nothing matters anymore. It's almost worse than if he hadn't found Roxas at all; at least then he could imagine Roxas is out there somewhere, living a life of his own, somehow happy even without Lea and really he shouldn't worry. Instead he sees this frightened ghost, this shadow of the man Roxas is supposed to be, with no sign of the teasing words and cheerful smiles and the laughing blue eyes that gave him a heart. And this is all there is, this is all there is to be found, no matter where he looks or how far he travels he will never find more than this because this is Roxas, his Roxas, except nothing about this is his, anymore.
Not that Roxas ever was his. Not that he ever got the chance to tell him that.
"I can't go any further," he murmurs, knowing nobody is there to listen but right now he can't contain everything inside himself. "I can't give any more. I've been fighting everyone and everything all this time and it's still not enough."
There is no answer. Of course not. He has scared away the one person whose words could possibly change anything at all.
"I thought it would be enough. That somehow, with everything I've done and everything I've sacrificed, the world wouldn't be cruel enough to deny me my own reward. Should have known better, really." The chuckle that escapes his lips is bitter, bitter and devoid of any true amusement. "Should have known that life would just screw me over just like I've done to everyone else."
His only response is the rustling of leaves in a faint breeze. It's such cruel mockery, being ignored so completely by everything and everyone.
"What else am I supposed to do?" It's a scream more than a proper question, his frustration and pain trying to get out even as he claws at his face, tearing away the eye-patch. "I've given up everything! I've given my eye and my friends and my life, and it's still not enough! It's never going to be enough…"
For one wild moment he considers just giving up, against all his promises and deals just putting a definitive end to his search, never again having to feel this pain. He can't do that, though, not with everything he has promised Mickey, not with his word given to Xion. He'll just have to live on, no matter the pain, and hope that some monster gets him sooner rather than later.
The keyblade is growing hotter in his hand, at least that part being familiar despite the unfamiliar design, and he knows it really should burn him except he never was that good at being vulnerable to fire, certainly not his own. He's not surprised as it actually catches fire, the flames blazing high yet barely touching the plants around him, a visual form of his rage and anguish rather than a weapon right now.
The fire spreads up his arm, now, yet he barely notices; if anything, the flames seem to be burning cold, now, sending a chill down his spine as they envelope his hand, his arm, his shoulder. The coldly burning fire covers his entire body, to the last spiky tip of his hair, but the only pain he feels is in his heart.
He raises his head to where the sky would be if it bothered to make an appearance between the thick foliage, screaming out his hurt, words lost to him by now, not that they would make any difference anyway. Any tears that have found their way to his face are swallowed by the fire, leaving him with no way to show his pain, a perfect reflection of just how much life seems to care about his happiness.
How dare he ever think that he might actually deserve a happy ending of any sort.
There's a rustle of leaves, again, from a different direction now, and his head snaps around. This sounds bigger, definitely bigger than just a little bird. It shouldn't be anything dangerous, the children wouldn't be allowed around here if anything dangerous was prowling the forest, but at this point, he's prepared for just about anything.
Roxas steps out, a wary look on his face and holding Lea's folded cloak.
Well, that one he did not expect.
They stare at each other for a while, and Lea can feel his fire dying away, the pain too new and raw in his heart for such a thing to bring any relief. His keyblade is still aflame, though, refusing to go out, pulsing with cold heat under his hand.
It's just as Roxas opens his mouth, apparently to say something, that he realizes it's not the fire that's pulsing through the weapon.
He lifts the keyblade, now, the feeling similar to that he felt when closing the keyhole. Roxas takes a step back, a wild look in his eyes, and Lea is about to apologize when a beam of light bursts out once again.
There is no keyhole, certainly nothing he can see with his eyes, yet he can almost feel the keyblade touching something anyway. The shock in Roxas' face is wiped away, replaced by a look that seems almost dreaming, the cloak falling away from his hands.
For a split second there is a burst of light from Roxas' chest, right where the beam touched him, and the next moment the keyblade fades without Lea even consciously sending it away and Roxas is stumbling forward. He shoots to his feet on instinct more than anything, rushing to steady Roxas even though he knows it probably won't be welcome, more concerned with Roxas' safety than the pain of the inevitable new rejection.
Roxas looks up, then, looks at him with those incredible blue eyes of his, blue like the sky or possibly the sea or maybe just the horizon between those two, and for a moment, Lea sees a spark of recognition rushing through them.
"Axel?" Roxas asks, his tone one of wonder, and then, in exclamation, "Axel!"
He lets go for a second only to draw Roxas into his arms instead, holding him close, this time determined to hold on no matter what. "Lea, actually," he murmurs, and he knows his voice is rough with tears he is trying and failing to hold back. "It's Lea, now. Get it memorised."
For a moment he almost thinks this is a dream, he must have fallen asleep in the sun or maybe he's just hallucinating after his breakdown, because nothing like this could truly happen, not to him.
Then he feels a pair of slender arms reaching around him, familiar hands digging into his back as though afraid he's going to scatter in the wind any moment now, how ridiculous is that when it's obviously Roxas who just keeps disappearing on him.
"Lea," he hears a whisper, the voice the slightest bit different yet so very familiar, and honestly there have been times when he didn't think he'd ever hear his real name in the tones of that voice. "Lea, I found you."
There's so much wrong with that, so much that they have to discuss and all the news to share and plans to make, but all that can wait. Right now, he has Roxas here in his arms, Roxas who exists and is alive and now finally knows who he is, too.
Everything else in any of the worlds can wait.
Chapter 23 - Approaching Destiny
Chapter 25 - Epilogue: To Those Who Wait
Chapter: 24/25
Chapter title: The Final Hurdle
Chapter rating: PG-13
Chapter warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Chapter summary: With Roxas there but not recognising him, Lea is taken over by despair. However, perhaps everything isn't entirely hopeless.
"Roxas?" Now he frowns, wondering just what is going on. "Roxas, it's me. Lea. Axel, remember?"
"I don't know you." His voice is rough, probably from lack of use more than anything, and there's a wild look in his eyes. A frightened look. "Who are you?"
"Uh, just your best friend, doofus." Oh, no. He's not going to be scared. Not even though it feels like his heart is busy freezing over. "Remember? I taught you pretty much everything you know. Well, used to know, anyway."
"I don't remember." And the look in Roxas' eyes is indeed one he would give to a stranger. It's eerily similar to the blank expression he often wore when he started out in the Organization, except that was only right after he had been formed, and now he has been around for over a year if the kids can be trusted. Why wouldn't he have regained his memories, his thoughts?
He recalls his own words to Mickey, now, about why Roxas wouldn't have shown up yet, why he wouldn't have contacted them. Maybe he didn't remember. Except even then, even as he himself brought up the possibility, he never thought for a moment that such a condition wouldn't be reversed the moment he found Roxas again.
He hasn't approached anyone, Lea recalls, hasn't talked with anyone. Maybe that's the reason, maybe it's interaction that really forms him, like it was when he first started to open up to Lea more that he started to show an actual personality the first time around. That could explain why he's still like this, so long after becoming his own person again.
He still should remember Lea, though. Lea never even considered that Roxas might not recognize him, and frankly, this situation scares him.
"I'm your best friend," he repeats, as though that would suddenly make everything better again, as though simply reiterating the point will make it real despite all the evidence to the contrary. "We used to eat ice cream together, up in the tower. You liked watching the sunset."
The frightened look is still there, and Roxas tugs his arm, trying to break free. "Let go of me."
"No, I will not." He cannot, not anymore. "I let go of you once and you disappeared. I've been looking for you for too long to let you go again."
"I don't know you." And there's a hint of desperation in Roxas' voice now, desperation and fear, as though he just very much wishes his words would make him let go, make him leave.
Roxas wants him to leave.
The shock of that realization is enough to make his grip loosen, and all of a sudden Roxas is tearing himself away, backing out of his reach. There's one last frightened glance at him and then he's away, black coat disappearing into the shadows of the thick foliage, soon disappeared without a trace.
For a moment Lea simply stands, too stunned to even react. Then he rushes after him, not about to let go, not now, not again.
As he pushes his way through the forest he's glad he took his cloak off; it would certainly hinder his way through the bushes. Instead, he just finds scratches on his arms, not that he cares much. There's no time to slow down or try to find an alternative route, not when he has to find Roxas, has to be fast enough and smart enough to find him again. Using a bait won't work, not again, and if he lets Roxas slip away now he's never going to locate him again, not after this.
Except he is in the middle of the forest now, with no sign of Roxas, no idea of where he might have disappeared, where he could have gone. All of a sudden he isn't sure he didn't just lose the tracks a long way ago. For all he knows, Roxas could be back on the beach, relieved to be rid of the frightening stranger.
Coming to a halt at last, he leans against a tree, trying to get his bearings. He has no idea where exactly he is. It's not going to be hard to find his way out, the island isn't exactly big enough that he could be lost forever, but at the moment, it feels overwhelming. He's surrounded by trees and bushes, with only the slightest bit of a hint of sky overhead, and for all the time he's spent running from one world to another since facing Xehanort this is the first time that he has felt completely, utterly lost.
Suddenly, Lea feels weak. Leaning even more heavily against the tree, he finds himself sliding down to his knees. Some of the scratches on his arms are bleeding, smearing the bare skin, but he barely even notices.
He's lost Roxas. He's definitely, unquestionably lost Roxas. Nothing could compare with this kind of pain, not even the tearing claws of the hooded Heartless in the Land of Lanterns. It's his heart being torn out all over again, except this time he's sure it will never grow back, it's done that once already and that only served to give him more pain.
Shoulders hunched, he sinks his hands into the ground, trying to find something solid to grasp. He doesn't know what to do, anymore, doesn't know how to proceed. He's found Roxas, after all this time he has seen and touched and talked with Roxas, and it's just not enough.
There's a rustle in the leaves, and his head shoots up, instincts taking over from his despair for a brief moment, hand reaching for the weapon that wasn't there just a second earlier. Just as his hand closes around the handle, a bird flies out, screeching at him before disappearing into the sky, almost mocking him in its freedom. Lea glances after it, then looks down at his weapon, and freezes momentarily.
It's not his keyblade. Instead of the shining image of flames the head resembles the handle he's used to grasping, much like one of his old chakrams, with the handle of this one being a much simplified version of the same, a figure 8 combining the two parts. He stares at the keyblade, trying to figure out where it came from and why it's different. Trying not to wonder just how broken his heart must be for his keyblade to spontaneously take on a different form, one that is all about spikes and tearing and cold metal instead of his familiar warm flame.
Not that it matters. Nothing matters anymore. It's almost worse than if he hadn't found Roxas at all; at least then he could imagine Roxas is out there somewhere, living a life of his own, somehow happy even without Lea and really he shouldn't worry. Instead he sees this frightened ghost, this shadow of the man Roxas is supposed to be, with no sign of the teasing words and cheerful smiles and the laughing blue eyes that gave him a heart. And this is all there is, this is all there is to be found, no matter where he looks or how far he travels he will never find more than this because this is Roxas, his Roxas, except nothing about this is his, anymore.
Not that Roxas ever was his. Not that he ever got the chance to tell him that.
"I can't go any further," he murmurs, knowing nobody is there to listen but right now he can't contain everything inside himself. "I can't give any more. I've been fighting everyone and everything all this time and it's still not enough."
There is no answer. Of course not. He has scared away the one person whose words could possibly change anything at all.
"I thought it would be enough. That somehow, with everything I've done and everything I've sacrificed, the world wouldn't be cruel enough to deny me my own reward. Should have known better, really." The chuckle that escapes his lips is bitter, bitter and devoid of any true amusement. "Should have known that life would just screw me over just like I've done to everyone else."
His only response is the rustling of leaves in a faint breeze. It's such cruel mockery, being ignored so completely by everything and everyone.
"What else am I supposed to do?" It's a scream more than a proper question, his frustration and pain trying to get out even as he claws at his face, tearing away the eye-patch. "I've given up everything! I've given my eye and my friends and my life, and it's still not enough! It's never going to be enough…"
For one wild moment he considers just giving up, against all his promises and deals just putting a definitive end to his search, never again having to feel this pain. He can't do that, though, not with everything he has promised Mickey, not with his word given to Xion. He'll just have to live on, no matter the pain, and hope that some monster gets him sooner rather than later.
The keyblade is growing hotter in his hand, at least that part being familiar despite the unfamiliar design, and he knows it really should burn him except he never was that good at being vulnerable to fire, certainly not his own. He's not surprised as it actually catches fire, the flames blazing high yet barely touching the plants around him, a visual form of his rage and anguish rather than a weapon right now.
The fire spreads up his arm, now, yet he barely notices; if anything, the flames seem to be burning cold, now, sending a chill down his spine as they envelope his hand, his arm, his shoulder. The coldly burning fire covers his entire body, to the last spiky tip of his hair, but the only pain he feels is in his heart.
He raises his head to where the sky would be if it bothered to make an appearance between the thick foliage, screaming out his hurt, words lost to him by now, not that they would make any difference anyway. Any tears that have found their way to his face are swallowed by the fire, leaving him with no way to show his pain, a perfect reflection of just how much life seems to care about his happiness.
How dare he ever think that he might actually deserve a happy ending of any sort.
There's a rustle of leaves, again, from a different direction now, and his head snaps around. This sounds bigger, definitely bigger than just a little bird. It shouldn't be anything dangerous, the children wouldn't be allowed around here if anything dangerous was prowling the forest, but at this point, he's prepared for just about anything.
Roxas steps out, a wary look on his face and holding Lea's folded cloak.
Well, that one he did not expect.
They stare at each other for a while, and Lea can feel his fire dying away, the pain too new and raw in his heart for such a thing to bring any relief. His keyblade is still aflame, though, refusing to go out, pulsing with cold heat under his hand.
It's just as Roxas opens his mouth, apparently to say something, that he realizes it's not the fire that's pulsing through the weapon.
He lifts the keyblade, now, the feeling similar to that he felt when closing the keyhole. Roxas takes a step back, a wild look in his eyes, and Lea is about to apologize when a beam of light bursts out once again.
There is no keyhole, certainly nothing he can see with his eyes, yet he can almost feel the keyblade touching something anyway. The shock in Roxas' face is wiped away, replaced by a look that seems almost dreaming, the cloak falling away from his hands.
For a split second there is a burst of light from Roxas' chest, right where the beam touched him, and the next moment the keyblade fades without Lea even consciously sending it away and Roxas is stumbling forward. He shoots to his feet on instinct more than anything, rushing to steady Roxas even though he knows it probably won't be welcome, more concerned with Roxas' safety than the pain of the inevitable new rejection.
Roxas looks up, then, looks at him with those incredible blue eyes of his, blue like the sky or possibly the sea or maybe just the horizon between those two, and for a moment, Lea sees a spark of recognition rushing through them.
"Axel?" Roxas asks, his tone one of wonder, and then, in exclamation, "Axel!"
He lets go for a second only to draw Roxas into his arms instead, holding him close, this time determined to hold on no matter what. "Lea, actually," he murmurs, and he knows his voice is rough with tears he is trying and failing to hold back. "It's Lea, now. Get it memorised."
For a moment he almost thinks this is a dream, he must have fallen asleep in the sun or maybe he's just hallucinating after his breakdown, because nothing like this could truly happen, not to him.
Then he feels a pair of slender arms reaching around him, familiar hands digging into his back as though afraid he's going to scatter in the wind any moment now, how ridiculous is that when it's obviously Roxas who just keeps disappearing on him.
"Lea," he hears a whisper, the voice the slightest bit different yet so very familiar, and honestly there have been times when he didn't think he'd ever hear his real name in the tones of that voice. "Lea, I found you."
There's so much wrong with that, so much that they have to discuss and all the news to share and plans to make, but all that can wait. Right now, he has Roxas here in his arms, Roxas who exists and is alive and now finally knows who he is, too.
Everything else in any of the worlds can wait.
Chapter 23 - Approaching Destiny
Chapter 25 - Epilogue: To Those Who Wait
