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Love:: Misunderstanding
By : hachi-miitsu
Category: Kingdom Hearts > AU - Alternate Universe
Views: 1826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: SEE FULL DISCLAIMER PLEASE
Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Whoopsie :U Repainting the house so…there’ve been no updates for a bit xDD Still not done but I didn’t want anyone to think I was slacking -----> *totally was* Things have been hectic guys, sorryyyyy~ To make up for it I’ll…double post today ^^ (read: double-stuff) LOL xDDD I couldn’t resist!
Anyways, I’m in a fairly good mood at the beginning of this but because of the following content my good mood is going to be effectively ruined. I’m torturing myself for you. Be happy.
I tried to make the claim that I owned Kingdom Hearts but then Square Enix spanked me with a Keyblade ;~; It was mean! Anyways xD I don’t. And I don’t have any munny. Seriously…I don’t. I ate paint today =__= ++ Bah.
Song lyrics stuff at the end. Enjoy!

Chapter Six: Sleeping Chrysalis
The bathroom had always been small, Roxas thought. But now it was stifling. Did Axel stand so close before?
No, maybe it was because they were both standing now. Axel braced himself behind Roxas as the shorter boy swayed in front of the sink. Long fingers rinsed carefully around the raised flesh on Roxas's hands but the blonde couldn't feel it. He was sandwiched between the countertop and Axel's front while Axel's arms threaded behind him. A sandwich.
He giggled at the thought.
I'm going insane.
"Don't do that", Axel barked.
Roxas winced and looked up to meet hard emerald that bored into him from the mirror. The water rushed over their joined hands, the only sound besides the blood in their ears. Funny, how both kind of sounded the same.
Shhhh.
It'll be alright.
Water won't wash away what you need to face.
Shhhhhh.
The shorter boy pressed his lips together as Axel herded him to sit on the toilet. When the redhead turned, a knife was lodged between his teeth. He knelt and placed Roxas's limp hand on his knee. Striking his lighter, Axel disinfected the very tip before bringing it close to the first of the blisters. He paused and looked up at the blonde who blinked back.
"This might hurt, but try not to move."
Roxas blinked again but felt nothing save a soothing numb that had washed over his whole body as Axel swiftly probed the pustules on first one hand then the other. There weren't that many thankfully, but he was thorough. Rising to his feet again Axel snatched a tube of aloe off the counter and popped the cap off with his thumb. His brows knitted together as he squeezed a healthy dollop on the wounds. The clear goop glistened against the grisly sight of burnt flesh and a hiss escaped him when a minty sensation sank through the numb. This wasn't good. He whimpered and sighed out a soft scream when the pain was ushered in to eradicate the last of his shield. The blonde curled his hands to his chest and leaned over, face turning red with the exertion of keeping his voice down. After a few laborious minutes he straightened again with a sniffle.
Axel drew back and stared up at the blonde whose face pulled into a grimace that spoke volumes. A muscle worked in his jaw as he wrapped Roxas's hands in gauze. When he was finished, the boy rested them in his lap and examined the coarse fabric that was soft against his skin. It seemed at odds with its nature, he thought; white things, coarse things were not supposed to feel soft.
“—tal.”
The taller boy felt his chest clench at the small voice that sounded as broken as its owner looked. Were they in any other place, it would’ve been lost. As it was, the wave rippled off tile and echoed a little. Teeth sank into his lower lip as he refrained from touching Roxas. He did rock forward to hear better though. “Hm?”
"Shouldn't we call a hospital", the blonde mumbled, his words a thick slur.
Axel shook his head. "That was the first thing I asked when I took her up to her room. She was pretty vehement."
When the blonde closed his eyes this time it took visible effort to pry them open again. Heavy. He felt heavy and his expression relaxed as the wave ebbed and beckoned on another one, less painful now that he was used to the first. He dragged his eyes up to Axel and they screamed. They begged and they cursed. “It…hurts.”
The redhead tried to smirk back but it looked more like a snarl. "I know. I'd say it gets easier, but…"
"Yeah…" Roxas glared at his fingers that were now clenched into boney cages around his palms. The popped blisters throbbed over the underlying sting. "What do you think is wrong with her?"
Axel shrugged but wouldn't look at him. The blonde rose to his feet and made to push past Axel but he stumbled.
The taller boy snaked an arm around his waist as he caught him. When Roxas straightened he didn't pull away, leaning instead on the chest that was offered.
"Looks like the report is going to have to wait", Axel mumbled. He was trying to distract; distract himself, distract Roxas. It worked as the blonde gave a low chuckle. They exited the bathroom and plodded back up the stairs quietly, pausing in the doorway.
Roxas's mother was in the same position they had left her in, only her eyes were open and glassy as they stared at the ceiling. The blonde's body coiled as she shuttered a cough, thinking nobody was around.
She closed her eyes and placed a hand to her chest to steady her breathing, expression taut with pain. Roxas didn't realize he was trembling until Axel squeezed his shoulders and deftly kneaded the muscles in a way that was both warning and comfort. Roxas shook himself and pushed the door open further so they could enter.
The woman glanced over, looking far better than she had before she'd fallen though still frightening in her raggedness. Both boys forced smiles on their lips and she returned the gesture. Suddenly, Axel bowed his head and tried to step out of the room. Without thinking Roxas turned and snatched his sleeve.
"Where're you—"
The look in those garnet eyes was enough to quell the blonde as Axel gently extricated himself. "Be with your mom. I'm gonna try and make some headway on that report."
Roxas nodded, though he really didn't want to be left alone with what he sensed his mom had to say. He swallowed and swiveled around, smile locked in place as he tugged the chair back to rest by her bed.
"Mom…" He faltered and she reached out a hand towards him. He placed his own in her small grip as she squeezed. Her hand was cold.
They sat in the quiet gloom of her room for a long while. Roxas couldn't say how long exactly, because there wasn't even a clock to mark the passing seconds. He frowned. There should have been one on the chest of drawers—it was oak, carven, and old fashioned; surrounded by a charm his mother had always adored. It wasn't there.
"What happened to your clock mom?"
Her expression serene, she squeezed his hand again. "I hid it."
"…why?"
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she seemed to be gathering her thoughts and he peered at her, suddenly wishing the room was brighter so her coming words wouldn't... Finally she began.
"You've been such a good boy, Roxy. Always patient. It hasn't been right of me as a mother…" She cut off, coughing. Roxas’s blood sped up, a rush so cold that it burned as it jolted through his veins. Without him noticing, his back straightened and he leaned back a little as if to distance himself. This was wrong.
"My baby boy…" She paused again to bite her lip to stop its trembling. So wrong. His mother was never weak.
Roxas’s body hummed with panic. "Mom", he started, teeth chattering hard enought he thought they might break. "Stop talking like this. Tell me what’s—"
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you everything a mother should."
"Mom! Stop! Don't talk in past tense. I'm fine. And y-you're fine t-too…" His words garbled into an anxious sob. "S-see?" he shrieked. "Everything is going to be f—" Even he didn't believe it. Roxas almost tugged his hand away to cover his ears, to stop her from saying what she was about to. He hiccupped as air filled his lungs to capacity. He needed to take bigger breathes. Deeper breathes, but they snagged. He couldn't breathe. Something was pressing in on his chest.
Her smile was patient, loving, like her words weren't tearing apart her most beloved. "Roxas, you aren't dumb. You know something's been wrong for a long time don't you?"
"No", Roxas moaned, shaking his head. "No, no. No!"
Yes. He knew.
Please God, why did he have to know?
No, no, no.
"Honey you need to listen. Roxas?" She tugged his hand until he was looking at her. The boy gritted his teeth and crawled into bed beside her. She moved to accommodate him, swallowing another coughing fit. When he was tucked properly against her, she wrapped her arms around him and rocked from side to side.
"I'm dying Roxas."
He froze and hugged her tighter. "You're lying."
"You know I wouldn't lie to you."
"You're lying", he shrieked into the hollow of his dear mother’s throat.
She let him rail against her, squeezing tight. She cherished this contact, like she'd never cherished anything else before. Her baby boy, who'd come from her. She only had him in all the world and after a hard day, he'd be there to greet her. To hug her and tell her he loved her. She remembered changing his diapers. Feeding him. Tending his scraped knees. Laughing and rolling with him in the grassy park.
Protecting him. Saving him. Loving him. Her arms tightened as she pulled him closer, remembering the hardest, most painful, most beautiful truths of motherhood. The human heart was not designed to survive when away from it's body and yet, each child represented just that—a parent's heart naked and raw and bittersweet, beating forever outside its chest.
Roxas was her heart.
And now she'd have to…
Motherhood was a choice she hadn't made just once when she'd decided she wanted a baby. No, it was one she made every day; to put Roxas's happiness and well-being ahead of her own, to teach the hard lessons, to do the right thing even when she wasn't sure what the right thing was...and to forgive herself, over and over again, for doing everything wrong.
Like she wanted Roxas to forgive her now. She'd have to harden herself. Yes, because a mother was not a person to lean on but…a…person to make leaning…unnecessary.
"Mom, this isn’t funny."
"I know baby."
"Didn't you go to the hospital? You can't be dying…", he pleaded.
A tear fled down her cheek but she kept her voice steady as Roxas shuddered against to her, fisting the fabric of her work shirt. "You wondered why I'm home so early from work today. I didn't go. I haven't for a couple of months now. I've been visiting the hospital and having tests done to see what's wrong with me." She paused to draw in a few taxing breaths. "That's why I told Axel not to call tonight. I'm kind of sick of it." She chuckled at her own bad joke.
"See", he perked up to look at her with a fierce expression. "You'll be—"
It was her eyes, more than anything. That resigned disappointment. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
"Why", his voice broke but he pushed on though his throat felt so hoarse he was surprised it wasn't bleeding. "Why didn't you tell me before this?" Why didn't you tell me what was wrong?"
Surprisingly, her voice didn't crack and she didn't shed another tear as she outlined exactly what was wrong with her, like she was examining the condition in another person. The only indication Roxas had that this was more than just a normal conversation was that she kept holding him tightly like she wasn't going to be able to again.
Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. Terminal… tissue… lungs… scarred. It didn't matter. The title didn't matter. The symptoms weren't important. Death by any other name meant that someone was still getting left behind.
"Roxas?"
He flinched and glanced at her, feeling the sweat on his body and his muscles tense. Feeling lightheaded as a raw throb in his chest twisted harsher than any blade could. Yeah, a torture table. He was strapped to a torture table and there was no escape. They were just words. Just words. Just…
Why couldn't he focus at least once in his life, when it was most important?
…lung tissue becomes thicker…. Lose….ability…move oxygen…bloodstream. Roxas shook his head and strained his ears. He would listen. She deserved that much at least.
"As a result, your brain and other organs don't get the oxygen they need."
Roxas's face twisted. It was his fault. His fault for being so indulgent, for knowing something was wrong. Knowing she was sick and pretending he didn't. His fault. If he’d brought it up maybe she could've….
She said softly, "It wouldn't have helped to say something about it, even if we had caught it early on. For what I have, there isn't a cure yet."
Yet. So there could be a cure? But not for her. When they found it it'd already be too late. She'd be…too late. Didn't she deserve the cure? His mom hadn't done anything wrong, to anyone. Why did she have to d—
No. He couldn't say it. Not yet.
Anger reared up like a tidal wave, battering down as it bathed him in acid. It threatened to cripple every rational part of him. Roxas was not a violent person but at that moment he wanted to earnestly, painfully, messily…slowly kill the doctor who'd been dumb enough to make the diagnosis.
He sat up slowly, flicking his eyes at his mother and entertained tearing into her a moment. For holding her pride and her concern for him above her own life. He wanted to hurt himself for not being able to do anything to help her. Not a fucking thing.
Like in every other way in his life…he was helpless.
And dammit, he wanted the right to turn away and cover his eyes, plug his ears. He wanted to sing la-la-la, tell her the cameramen could come out now and yell 'surprise'.
She wasn't going to die. This bad joke had gone far enough.
He glared at the darkest corners in her room, desperately wishing for those cameramen even though he knew there weren't any there. There couldn't be.
She wasn't joking.
It was the easiest thing in the world to face the impending death of a loved one…because no one ever joked or lied about something like that. Face, not accept. Face, not want. Face, not… Death was there and the only one laughing in the end was the reaper in all its painful, ugly glory.
His mother was dying. Roxas shook his head and scrunched his eyes closed as she pulled him back down to lay in her arms. His lip trembled as sobs scraped against his esophagus. "D-don't leave me. Please don't...don't go. I need you." He clawed at her shirt and burrowed his face into her neck, muffling his pleas.
Her only answer was to brush a kiss against his feverish temple.
How long?
When?
He didn't ask, though the morbid curiosity gnawed at him. Instead, he placed up mental arms to ward off the heinous blows. Nothing helped.
It was love and pity in her gaze. Pity. Was it for herself or her son, she wondered. Coughs kicked at the back of her throat again, throbbing. Demanding release as they stole her life with every rattle. This wasn't the way she wanted Roxas to see her, not like this in her final moments.
She wanted him to remember her as the mother she'd tried to be for him.
"Roxas."
He tensed then sat up, rubbing one eye as he looked down at her.
"Let mommy rest now okay? It's been a long day."
He hesitated. Her chest clenched for her baby boy…
Keep him here.
"Go honey."
I love you.
"Call me if—"
"—I need anything. I will. Go on now, and help your friend with that report." Her tone was stern enough to make him chuckle.
"I love you mom."
"I love you too baby. See you in the morning."
I'm so sorry.
He gave her a weak smile and got up. As if on silent cue, Axel came back in with more hot water and another bowl full of broth. She thanked him softly and the two boys walked out, keeping the door cracked in case she should happen to call.
Roxas managed to make it to his room in a stupor. He sunk down on the floor and examined his carpet. Everything else had developed the same fuzzy edge. White.
A plague, a disease.
White fury and pale death.
White was not soft. White was hospital walls. White was gauze hiding ugly burns. White was nothing. It was empty and mean and cold...
Axel was close behind him. Roxas could feel the slight dip in the carpet where he was standing. He wanted him there. He wanted him to go away. He wanted…
Tears scalded his cheeks as they fell, staining the pristineness with drops of grey. Axel bent and crooked his legs so that he was surrounding the blonde. Roxas leaned back into him. There was no intimacy now. There was just Axel; the silent, warm object of comfort.
Axel drew his arms around the boy’s quaking shoulders. He stiffened when Axel's grip tightened. Roxas shook his head. Again and again, he shook his head. He raised his arms and grabbed at chunks of his hair but Axel dislodged them so that their fingers threaded together. With Axel guiding his movements, Roxas hugged himself as his agony translated into words. "I don't want…to cry…", he gulped. "I want it to s-stop. Why her? Why… she's…she's really…oh God."
His teeth chattered as shivers engulfed his whole body. A guttural scream ripped from his throat even as he strained to stiffle it against the quickly moistening fabric of Axel’s shirt. He was hot. He was cold. The blonde tilted his chin up to where he could bury his face into the hollow of Axel’s throat.
Alive. It was pulsing with the primal beat of life. His tears stung as they marooned themselves on creamy flesh. Roxas choked as he realized how cold his mother had been. How…she might never be warm again.
"Why", he shrieked again. "Why does it have to be her?" Blunt nails dug into his skin and Axel used that pain to anchor himself here, remembering all too well what this had done to him. But he'd been young, too young perhaps. Too alone.
There was a catch in his voice when he said, "Roxas, mother is the name of God on the lips and hearts of all children. When a god crumbles, so too do parts of the ones that love it. It's…okay to cry. Let it all out."
And so he did. If he hadn't been so conscious of the door down the hall, he might have shaken the very heavens with his grief. Axel rocked with the boy and held him fiercely, never letting go. They stayed that way for a while until he was too exhausted to cry. Blue eyes were half open; swollen and rimmed with red, glazed with pain, with anger and loss.
Axel carried him to bed and tucked the blonde in. He gazed down at the figure, half a step away from losing consciousness himself. This was too familiar. Too raw.
He saw in Roxas now, a grief he hadn't known how to express. And it hurt to watch. It hurt to feel. Why was he here, taking care of this fragile creature? What was there for him to gain?
He'd never been particularly cold hearted unless he was involved in a fight for his life. But he'd never been overtly nurturing either. There was something about Roxas; that sharp, guarded expression that melted into genuine grins every now and again. His shoulders, so slight yet weighed down with the entire world. A jaded anxiety. A want he was too prideful, too selfish to let himself have.
He begged for protection, even though he didn't realize it himself.
And Axel wanted to touch him. To keep protecting him, to take him and lock him away. But that would ruin everything
Axel pondered on this as he padded to sit on the corner of the mattress so he could lean against the wall. Or at least, that was the intention. He managed to plant his posterior on the end but when he scooted back, something cut across his ass cheek. Hard.
He cried out and Roxas jerked up, tearing his covers off just in time to see Axel vault off the mattress. An erroneous looking plushy was latched firmly to his backside and the redhead flew around the bedroom, snarling, squawking and carrying on in a display that Roxas was quite unsure how to even approach.
Still in a daze, Roxas watched him finally stop dancing around and yank the offending pain off his tushy. He brought it up for closer examination and dropped it a second later as if it had tried to bite him again.
"Fuck. What the fuck is… that?"
Cranky from his teary migraine, Roxas got to his feet and padded over, affronted. He bent down and snatched the ragged looking doll off the ground, making Axel swallow. When he straightened again, he didn't notice how Axel's pupils had dilated, how the pulse in his neck jerked and how his palms were sweaty. No, he just cradled the doll as he brought it up for closer inspection.
It had straw poking out in places and its eyes consisted of two sewn letter x's. Its mouth also looked like it had been sewn shut in a crisscross manner with leather cord. Made of burlap, it was, in short, the ugliest thing Axel had ever beheld.
"This is Captain Gaga."
The redhead eyed the malevolent thing lying innocently in Roxas's hands. "Captain Caca is more like it”, he snapped, rubbing at the wound in his derriere. “That thing is a fucking hazard. And no offense kid, but you need to work on your doll making skills."
Roxas cuffed the older boy playfully, staring at the rag-a-muffin with a fond twinkle dancing in his eyes. "I didn't make it, you doof. My mom did on my fourth birthday."
Both boys froze simultaneously. Air clogged in his lungs like smoke but Roxas grit his teeth and rode out the rising alarm. He was jerked into the past…to the day she presented it to him. Her hair was rumpled as it glistened like spun gold in the sunset, cheeks flushed with giddiness as her son gave Captain Gaga a similiar reception.
It was a special day, more than just his birthday. They'd been liberated from his father. His mom had laughed. They'd shared ice cream in the sun dappled park. And she had whisked her baby up into a hug, kissing him with abandon as they both basked in love and happiness and freedom, sprawled out on plush grass that cushioned them like the finest pillows. They'd both been on top of the world that day, with Captain Gaga lounging between them as witness. She’d been so strong…everything had been perfect. New, with endless possibilities.
But then the bills had come, stacked to startling mountains on their kitchen table. The collectors rapped at their doors like invaders trying to batter down the gates of a castle. The phone calls, the ringing, ringing, ringing. Oh god, the endless sound of that screaming phone demanding money they didn't have. His mom, forced to adopt a different strength for their survival.
Roxas wasn't even aware of crumpling to the floor now as he curled into fresh shudders, broken sobs; feeling the loss before it even started. The sick despair. The debilitating fear. None of it was fair!
Flashes of her through the years pummeled Roxas’s mind, so familiar and solid. That was all they’d have left. Would he forget? He couldn’t! …but of course, time steals all things. Soon she wouldn’t have a face. She’d become a passing memory, a cheap imitation, relegated to shallow recollections exclusive to his heart. No more hugs, no more words of comfort or guidance.
He was alone.
The delirium crushed his chest in like an empty can until he too thought he was going to die. And again, Axel nurtured and tended and catered. He hushed the hysterical teen and knelt silently, taking him under the arms and making him walk to the bed this time. The motion would do him good though his limbs dragged like he was already dead.
Nonsensical babble tumbled from Roxas’s lips, his head lolling back against Axel’s chest as the boy’s limbs were urged forward.
The blonde tried to get up again when Axel pushed him down on the bed but the taller boy splayed a hand to his chest and kept him in place. He didn't bother asking for permission as he climbed on as well, locking his arms in a steely embrace as he let Roxas rail. The redhead spooned flush against the small body, tucking one leg between quivering thighs and taking a deep breath into the peachy scent of Roxas’s downy spikes.
"Shh, she'll be okay. Be strong. Shh-hsh…it'll all be okay."
It wouldn't, of course. But he couldn't just sit there and say nothing. He knew how it felt, though people said he'd been too young. That was the way of it, to recall nothing of a person but their impression. She may have been a kind woman but she'd left him behind. Left him to deal with a father who hadn't wanted him in the first place. Pain hurt all the same and not a day went by that he didn't feel it, bleeding and raw and exposed as it festered in his soul. But he'd learned to cope, to hide.
Roxas didn't know how. And now he was doing something for the lost boy in his arms that he'd laid awake in bed for years at night wishing someone would do for him.
Roxas nuzzled closer, seeking that solidity while he clung to the scruffy thing his mother had made as if by doing so, some of his strength would flow into her frail body. Axel was whispering something, but the words weren't really meant to be heard. They were meant to clash with the inevitable, to fill the empty space that was full of death and dark things.
Roxas drifted. His hands throbbed because of his grip on the plushy, and his head was heavy with unshed tears, with the countless things he wanted to tell his mother before it was too late.
Funny how when you think you have all the time in the world, you waste it by saying and doing meaningless things. With a finite amount time, words don't come as easily and they always feel cheap.
Axel shifted, breathing against the sensitive flesh lurking behind the blonde's ear. Roxas shivered and pressed against him, embracing the goose bumps and the slight pressure of Axel's arms that loosened but still encircled him completely. Long fingers played against his chest, tracing patterns to ease his breathing. The leg between his thighs came up then moved back down just a little.
This was…comfortable. The reality outside his door and just down the hall was agonizing to even contemplate but in here he was safe. He would use this escape.
Roxas resolved that he'd only nap for a few minutes. He was so tired and it had been such a long day. Just five minutes…

Not done yet. Read on.
- 6
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Love:: Misunderstanding	By : hachi-miitsu Category: Kingdom Hearts > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: SEE FULL DISCLAIMER PLEASE

Love:: Misunderstanding