Through a Mirror, Darkly

(AKA, "unoriginal title is unoriginal")

They were two pairs from two worlds. They might have appeared the same, but they thought they were too different to find any common ground. Until they were forced to work together. Zemyx, Dexion

Warnings: Yaoi, graphic scenes, abuse, S&M, seme!Zexion and uke!Zexion, seme!Demyx and uke!Demyx (...don't ask), a fat load of weirdness and craziness oveall. Please don't take any of this shit seriously.

Hahahaha, it seems I actually am holding true to updating once a week. XD Spring break is coming up (after the Academic Decathlon state tournament...sigh. I only want a Super Quiz medal, that will make me graduate happily. I have no hope of beating those frighteningly talented kids from that one other school that's so much richer and better than my ghetto dump of a school), so I'll probably finish this story completely then. :)

Only three more chapters left~! Actually, technically, it's more like two, since the tenth chapter is mostly a short epilogue deal, and about half of it will be taken up by an ending note explaining the meaning behind the entire story.

It was getting very late at night by the time I finished this chapter, which probably explains the utter bizarre-ness of the last scene. Plus, makes it fairly obvious that I was listening to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack while writing it.

7. A Stairway Not To Heaven

The four gathered at the base of the staircase, craning their necks in an attempt to see its end. Zexion had even made Demyx hoist him to his shoulders so that he could better see, but that effort had resulted in nothing but an aching back for Demyx and a brief glimpse of a staircase spiraling through clouds for Zexion.

Zexion dispensed his conclusion. "This staircase doesn't end."

"Or, rather," the other Zexion said, sounding peeved, "it does, but it ends too high up for us to see from where we are now."

"That doesn't seem safe," Demyx said. "I mean, isn't there not that much air that high in the sky?"

"Oh my, you're a rapper," Zexion said sourly.

"No way! That was unintentional!" Demyx shouted, quite offended--he made no secret his hatred of rap.

The other Zexion coughed, loudly; he was giving the two of them the evil eye. "Now, getting back on topic--it doesn't matter where this staircase leads. Whatever happens, we're climbing it."

"I'm assuming that it most probably leads to the master of the world. Otherwise, there'd be no reason for it to appear," Zexion said.

"Am I the only one who thinks this isn't a good idea?" Demyx butted in.

Zexion threw him a sidelong glare. "Yes."

Demyx folded his arms and matched Zexion's glare perfectly. Even though he was outwardly acting annoyed with Zexion, he couldn't help but feel a little bubble of--relief, of all things. This was more like the way he and Zexion had been before...so it seemed even after everything that had happened, he hadn't lost Zexion. If anything, their bond had been strengthened.

He gazed up the spiral staircase, as high as he could before his neck cramped, and again shuddered. It went so high up. He imagined himself falling over those cracked gilded railings and immediately wished he hadn't.

The other Demyx, standing at the edge of the group, seemed to share his feelings; whenever he cast a fleeting glance up the staircase, he immediately convulsed and turned away. Demyx found himself feeling somewhat sorry for his double--after all, his Zexion had just been beating him up! He looked much more pale and wan than before, and had hunched his shoulders and was nervously clutching the front of his coat.

"Demyx," Zexion's voice snapped. Demyx blinked and noticed that Zexion was still glaring at him.

"What is it now?" he said with a heavy sigh.

"Don't space out now. We're going to climb it," Zexion said, gesturing towards the staircase.

"All right," Demyx said, "but can't we think this over a bit? I mean, come on, what if we fall? Seems like a really awful height to fall from--"

"Demyx, look at how wide the damn thing is. We won't fall."

"Perhaps you should order him," suggested the other Zexion, flashing a snide smile at the two of them.

"Wh--what?" Demyx sputtered indignantly.

"Yes, I'd like a side of fries," Zexion said, a vein twitching in his temple. "A fine thing to say, you hypocrite. Why are you standing all the way back there, then? Obviously, you're afraid to step onto it first."

"Excuse me?" The other Zexion turned pale and then bright red. From milk to tomato sauce. "I will have you know that--"

Demyx settled back, prepared to watch a very amusing pissing contest. Well, it probably wouldn't be that amusing, but it was better than climbing that horrible thing!

A low rumble and the crunch of stone from behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. Alarmed, Demyx whirled around--to come face-to-face with a monster.

Not just any kind of monster. It was easily the hugest being he'd ever seen since he'd entered this world, bigger than two elephants put together. And it was...he couldn't even begin to describe it. Bubbling, ropy blobs of flesh like putty hung from its bulky body, and it didn't seem to have one face as dozens sprinkled throughout the pale putty flesh of its body, all with equally blank and wide-eyed expressions. Sometimes, the flesh bubbled and burst open like the mud in a hot spring, and a new cadaver-like face would rise to the surface.

The faces...they were...his and Zexion's.

The monster rumbled again, even though it technically had no mouth with which to make any noises. The rumble was low and deep, reverberating in Demyx's bones--and then the monster lurched forward, its heavy steps sinking into the stone beneath it.

Demyx reacted without a second thought. He turned around, screamed, and ran.

The others were fast behind him; he could hear their desperate panting and the thud of their steps, first on the dull stone of the plaza and then click-click on the discolored marble of the stair steps. Demyx bolted up stair after stair after stair, still screaming like a murder victim, waving his arms and quite sure he looked like the biggest idiot to have ever walked any of the worlds. But he couldn't help it. That monster could be right behind them--he was hearing snorting, scratching, and then a hair-rising half-squeal, half-roar that almost made him trip from panic. Thankfully, he regained his balance and continued up the stairs, now leaping up them two at a time.

His legs were burning and nausea was swimming in his head from running in circles (since the staircase spiraled), but he couldn't stop. Not if he didn't want to be caught and eaten by that horrible monster--no, not eaten, but worse. He realized with a sick shuddering jolt that the faces buried in the monster's flesh must have come from past Zexions and Demyxes.

Perhaps they four weren't the first two couples brought to this world...

Demyx's panic wound to an even higher pitch. If that was true, then it meant that their own chances that they'd get out of here alive, already low, had plunged to astronomical depths.

But he had to believe this would work. Otherwise, otherwise he...he and Zexion...Zexion would...

That wasn't a thought he wanted to entertain in the slightest.

He continued leaping his way up the steps, sometimes collapsing and falling on his hands and knees on the black-veined marble and scraping them badly, but he didn't care; he just shot right back up again and kept on running. That was all that mattered. Getting away from that horrible monster--

"Demyx! You idiot! Stop!" shouted a voice somewhat beneath him.

Demyx, startled by the alarm in Zexion's voice, stopped so quickly that he almost lost his balance; he swayed wildly, flailing his arms in the air like a drunken swimmer, before managing to seize the staircase railing. Breathing hard from his close shave, he turned around.

The other three stood many steps below him, the Zexions both fixing him with irritated glares. The monster was nowhere in sight.

"What...what..." Demyx wheezed, disbelieving. Sweat was rolling down his face and his chest felt tight and painful; he had no idea that he'd been running so strenuously. "Wait...the monster..."

"It didn't go up the stairs," the other Zexion snapped, glaring over the edge of the railing.

"It appears that the monster was only sent to get us onto the staircase in the first place," Zexion said. "How underhanded, though I suppose it suits the master of the world..."

"Where is it now?" Demyx said, panic still fluttering in his stomach. Zexion gestured over the railing and down, towards the plaza. Demyx seized the edge of the railing for stability, and glanced down--

But only for a second. A sick feeling of vertigo rose inside him and his head spun and his ears buzzed. He had to sit down on the cool marble of the steps again, massaging his temples to stave off a stabbing ache. They were so...high up. The tallest buildings (most of which had crumbled) were but children's blocks by now, and from this vantage point Demyx could see almost the entire city, stretching bone-white and lifeless until it terminated against the black band of the ocean.

Had he really run that far up? Yet the staircase showed no signs of ending anytime soon...oh, this would be the worst.

"Well, the important thing is that the monster isn't chasing us any longer," the other Zexion said. "It does seem clear that the only way to go now is up."

"Great. Up." Demyx groaned and tried to keep himself from glancing back over the railing. "Defying gravity, huh?"

"And you can't pull me down," Zexion said sardonically.

The staircase was really quite a beautiful piece of work, if Zexion stopped to think about it. The black-veined white marble was chipped and discolored with age, but all the same, it was apparent even now that plenty of care had been put into building every step. Each one was edged with a slender, slightly raised band of gold, which gleamed dully in the peculiar gray light now washing over the entire world.

Zexion had plenty of time to contemplate the steps because he kept on staring at them. He'd have liked to look straight ahead so he would know where he was going, but it was a bit hard to lift his head when Demyx's arm was draped over his shoulder.

The weak idiot. Demyx apparently suffered from severe vertigo, so Zexion had been forced to support him as they made their way, agonizingly slow, up the steps. By now Demyx's arm felt like a lead weight and the rest of his body, limply slumping against Zexion's, felt like it weighed at least a ton. Zexion was surprised that he was even still able to move.

The other two were already some distance ahead of them, though they had slowed their pace down as the day progressed. Zexion had no idea how much time had actually passed since the sky remained uniformly gray, yet it had to have been some hours already. The four had been climbing the stairs nonstop during all that time. Zexion's leg muscles felt like they were made of burning acid.

He wasn't used to so much physical activity, and it didn't seem to have an end in sight. They'd climbed so high that they could no longer see the ground; everything was blanketed in fluffy gray cloud, chilling the air significantly. Every time they breathed, little white wisps escaped their mouths, blending in with the heavier gray of the clouds.

At least it was a relatively peaceful climb. Sometimes--scaring the shit out of them all--a winged monsters would suddenly break through the clouds and swoop towards them, keening. Then, without fail, everyone (even his stoic alternate self) would fall over with their hands over their heads, yelling or screaming in surprised panic. Thankfully, it didn't happen often--although Zexion suspected that only made it worse. Being constantly attacked by monsters would at least somewhat desensitize the group to their presence.

Otherwise, the four didn't really do much except climb...and climb...and climb.

In a way, Zexion supposed that Demyx's vertigo-induced near-vegetative state was a good thing. Zexion was certain that if Demyx had been in prime condition, he'd have been making all sorts of annoying comments about stairways to heaven or whatnot, if he wasn't whining about how long the climb was--or worst of all, singing that horrible "Defying Gravity" song. As it was, everyone else had the sense to remain somewhat quiet.

Even though Zexion was moving at a snail's pace, no thanks to heavy Demyx, he wasn't that far behind the other two. The other Demyx was moving slowly, taking little steps with consciousness to avoid pain. His Zexion could clearly scale the steps with more speed than he was taking, but he hung back so that he wasn't too far ahead of his Demyx. Sometimes, he even stepped down a few stairs so that he could pat his Demyx on the arm and whisper something to him that Zexion couldn't hear, though he supposed he was trying to encourage his Demyx.

Your fault, Zexion thought sourly, remembering how the other one had beaten up his Demyx in the first place.

Still, bizarre as their relationship might be, he would have to get along with them...

"Urgh Zex." For the first time since he'd collapsed against Zexion's shoulder, Demyx issued a semi-intelligible noise. Zexion stopped walking.

"What is it, you idiot? Don't waste your energy on speaking. If you open your mouth too much you're going to vomit..."

"Ahh, how nice of you to worry 'bout me..."

"It's nothing to do with you, fool. I simply don't want you to puke on my clothes."

"Ouch, figured."

"What's going on here?" demanded the other Zexion, who'd stopped as well; he had a hand protectively on his Demyx's shoulder.

"Nothing," Zexion said. "Come on, Demyx, let's move..."

"No, I was just--I just wanted to ask what you think is gonna be at the end of this staircase," Demyx said, sweeping his gaze briefly ahead of him before squeezing his eyes shut again; he rocked a little, apparently stricken by a new wave of vertigo. Zexion grabbed him tighter out of sudden concern.

"What--what does it matter? Just take of yourself, that--"

"Clearly, the master of the world," the other Zexion said.

"Really, now?" Demyx mumbled. "I...I dunno. I get the feeling that, that...what if this staircase doesn't end at all? What if it just goes on and on and--and we'll die here?"

Cold horror twisted Zexion's stomach. "Don't say that," he hissed.

"That--that's terrible," squeaked the other Demyx, speaking for the first time since, well, forever. "Would she really--do you think she'd really do that?"

"No, she wouldn't. Hush, Demyx. There's no reason to panic," the other Zexion said soothingly.

"It's just--a thought," Demyx said, managing a pained smile and lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"And not one we will entertain. Don't be so depressing. It doesn't suit you," Zexion said.

"Oh, the Great Zexion has given his judgment. Whatever shall I do?"

"I mean it! There is something at the end of this staircase!" Zexion shouted, less because he believed it than because he had to believe it. Otherwise, all this, all of their climbing and effort (and supporting Demyx...), would have all been in vain. What a fine ending to their sorry little quest in this world. A fine ending to their own existences, pitiful as they might be. He'd always envisioned fading away in a slightly more dramatic manner than starving to death on an endless staircase.

"Yeah, at least if we're climbing we're getting away from that monster," the other Demyx said, putting his hands on his hips.

Demyx's smile became more of a grimace. "Good point."

"So? Are we going to keep going?" demanded the other Zexion; he had already scaled three steps higher than the rest of the group, and was clinging lightly to the railing, looking fully ready to continue striding. Well, wasn't someone Eager McBeaver. "Enough with the arguments and self-doubt. We should direct all of our energy towards defeating the master of the world."

Well, wasn't he enthusiastic about this. Zexion would have dearly liked to point out that the other had no right to be so gung-ho, seeing as it was Zexion who had originally come up with the idea that they band up and work together against the master of the world. It wouldn't be very sporting to say that, though.

The four climbed higher, and higher. As they did, the clouds grew thicker and darker around them, until every step felt like he was fighting through a dense stew to keep on pressing forward. He could barely support Demyx now; at some points his own knees almost gave way and only by leaning against the railing could he stay upright. He could barely see ahead of him; even the glimmer of the gold band in the steps was growing progressively dimmer.

The fog was almost black now. Even though he was clinging to Demyx, he felt alone, utterly alone, in a realm in which he did not belong. Not the world of darkness, but something even more dangerous. Even more powerful.

Stupid, you're growing paranoid, just keep climbing, he told himself feverishly--but it was telling that he no longer saw the staircase at all now.

"Zexion! Zexion, oh Zexion please stop stop stop stop," Demyx sobbed, writhing and jerking against the chains binding his wrists. He tried to do something, anything, to move his body out of the range of the whip that Zexion was so expertly wielding, but it didn't work; no matter how he contorted himself, he only seemed to be exposing more of a target to the cruel, lashing braided leather tails.

And still Zexion showed no signs of stopping. If anything, he was whipping hard ever before; Demyx felt ready to faint from the pain. He thought that by this point, with his back torn to bloody ribbons, he'd have become numb to the pain, but each lash just set his old wounds on fire and opened up more bloody stripes on his back, flaring anew with agony. He sobbed and begged but it wasn't enough, it was never enough for his Zexion, his cruel master...

"Zexion oh Zexion I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry--"

"Are you now?" hissed Zexion, stomping hard on Demyx's back; Demyx unleashed a fresh howl that tore at his raw throat. The pain was beginning to blind him. "Are you now! I don't think so. You see, Demyx, you're a bad boy. That's simply your inner nature. And that is why I punish you as hard as I do."

"Noo Zexion--I swear I, I swear I--I'll be better, I'll be good--"

"It's not enough. It never is!" Zexion whipped him again, three times in quick succession. "And it never will be. You're a foul, dirty creature, Demyx. Kindness? You think you deserve any? Why, this is much better treatment than you actually deserve!"

"Y-you're so cruel, you're so cruel," Demyx found himself sobbing, speaking wildly from the pain. But it was true. Why, why did Zexion always have to torture him like this? He'd given Zexion his all, everything he could of his heartless being, and Zexion had rewarded it with--what? Constant beatings, constant rape. Constant pain.

"That's fine by me, you naughty boy," Zexion hissed, and lashed Demyx again.

Demyx scowled as he stormed through the library, anger and disappointment knotting into a ball in the pit of his stomach.

Seriously. He'd waited an hour, and Zexion hadn't shown up! And when they'd gone to such lengths to plan this date in the first place. Well, not "they," exactly. More like Demyx. Hell, he hadn't even told Zexion until yesterday, because he'd wanted it to be a surprise. He'd assumed Zexion would remember, but that assumption also meant assuming that Zexion actually cared about their dates. Considered them important.

He heard voices. Backtracking, still furious, Demyx ducked behind a bookshelf.

Vexen was striding down the aisle between two shelves--and Zexion was beside him.

Not just beside him, but--but they were holding hands. Holding hands. Demyx felt like he'd swallowed a gallon of freezing water. He couldn't believe--just wouldn't believe--what was happening. They were holding hands, and smiling at each other, and talking in such soft, affectionate tones...

"Didn't you have a prior engagement?" Vexen was saying.

"Hmm, really? I don't remember this..." Zexion said.

"Yes, you did. I do believe that you told me something about being booked for this evening--something about IX."

"IX. Ahh." Zexion threw his head to the side and unleashed a bark of derisive laughter. "As if an engagement with him means anything..."

Vexen laughed, and squeezed Zexion's shoulder. "Quite right."

Something exploded like a firework inside Demyx's chest, and he sank to his knees, his legs no longer able to support his weight. He clutched the bookshelf and trembled and let the hot wetness streak from the corners of his eyes. It was no use telling himself that he didn't have a heart to be broken.

"Demyx! Where are you? Dammit, Demyx, come out! I don't have time for this!" Zexion shouting, his panic winding to a higher and higher pitch the further he searched.

He thought he'd combed through all of The World That Never Was by now, and yet Demyx wasn't anywhere in sight. Not in the rooms, not in the chambers in which Xemnas and Saix had once performed experiments but now were content to let rot, not even in Luxord's faded old casino. Nowhere. He was now striding through Marluxia's dying garden, kicking aside the bramble that clawed at his ankles.

"Demyx!" he shouted.

He heard a little whimper. Alarmed, Zexion whirled around--to see Demyx cowering beneath a cracked stone bench, one of Vexen and Marluxia's favorites.

As Zexion strode towards Demyx, Demyx shrunk back. "What's the matter?" Zexion asked, keeping his tone as soothing as possible. "Come now, Demyx, you don't want to stay under there..."

"N-no, no!" Demyx wailed. "No, get away from me--stay away--please--"

"I won't hurt you," Zexion said.

"Yes! Yes, you will!" Demyx's voice was rising, hysterically so. "You will, you will! You've always hurt me, all the time, you're hurting me--I'm scared, Zexion, don't you get it, I'm scared of you--"

"Shh," Zexion said as soothingly as he could. "I promise you, I won't hurt you any longer."

"That's a lie! You always s-say that but you h-hurt me anyway." Demyx was sobbing now, curled up in a disconsolate ball. Unreachable. "I'm s-scared, y-you're scary, y-you hurt me..."

Zexion stood back, feeling numb, and knowing that every word Demyx said was true.

"Demyx! Where the hell are you, you idiot? You said you would be here!" Zexion shouted, kicking over one of Demyx's stacks of sheet music out of spite. But still. He'd gone through all this effort to wait for Demyx in Demyx's room--as they had planned for that night--and the singing moron hadn't shown up! There was something severely wrong with that.

"Idiot...you promised..." Zexion hissed, plopping down onto the bed. Now he didn't know what to do. He'd been waiting for over an hour already, but no Demyx.

A portal opened behind him; Zexion didn't need to turn around to know that it was Xaldin.

"Xaldin," Zexion said in an instant. "Where is Demyx?"

"Is that what you're doing here? Waiting for him?" There was a faint note of disgust to the older Nobody's voice. "If you really must know, he's outside. Giving an impromptu concert, it seems. Nothing you'd want to see."

But Zexion did. He stumbled towards the window, fumbled it open, leaned outside in the cold night air of The World That Never Was--and caught strains of Demyx's haunting sitar music, of his beautiful tenor voice, raised in a thrilling warble.

"Our wrongs remain unrectified--"

He was swaying, rocking out to his sitar--in front of a cheering and clapping Axel, Xigbar, and Luxord.

Zexion clutched the edge of the windowsill, something sick and cold tightening and twisting inside him, and realized at that moment how little he truly meant to Demyx.

It took Demyx several moments to realize that the floor beneath him wasn't the rough stone of the dungeon in which Zexion had been whipping him so cruelly, but rather the cold, smooth marble of the staircase. It took him another moment to realize that the pain throbbing in his back wasn't the severe burn of hundreds of whiplashes, but rather the more manageable ache of fading bruises left by the belt.

Tears were coursing freely down his face and he felt like he wanted nothing more than to retch. His fingers curled up over the marble, scrabbling at it for something solid, some surface to cling to--little whimpers were escaping his throat. It was an illusion, what had happened to him--but it felt so damnably real.

Am I really that afraid of Zexion? Deep down inside...

"D...Demyx..." whispered a voice at once comfortably familiar and shockingly strange. It was Zexion's, but not at all like Demyx had heard him before. There was none of his cool and confident self-assurance; just a broken, miserable, and so terribly vulnerable quality. Barely daring to breathe, terrified of what he would see, Demyx looked up.

Into Zexion's eyes.

His lover was staring at him with the most painful expression Demyx had seen on anyone before--on Zexion, of all people, it was more frightening than anything. His eyes were wide and his mouth was trembling and his face was whiter than chalk, and--and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, Demyx, Demyx," Zexion said, still in a broken whisper. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I--I had no idea--I really--"

"Zexion," was all Demyx could manage. His head was swimming; he couldn't believe any of this.

"I h-had no idea, I had no idea you were so--so afraid of me. I...I hurt you, didn't I? I..."

His voice rose to a squeak and cracked; he lowered his head, his fringe falling into his face and hiding his eyes from scrutiny. But not the trembling to his thin shoulders, not the little gasps and hiccups escaping his throat.

So strange. Usually in their relationship, it was Zexion comforting Demyx. But now...well, the tables had turned, and Demyx didn't protest that. Strangely, seeing Zexion so utterly miserable and guilty--seeing him cry--did more to banish Demyx's doubts than anything had before. Now he knew that the Zexion he was afraid of meant far less than the Zexion he loved. If Zexion had truly been the cruel creature Demyx had hallucinated him as, then he wouldn't have taken it as hard as this, would he have?

"It's okay, Zexion," Demyx whispered, wiping away his tears with one hand, and stroking Zexion's hair with the other. "It's okay, I know--I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know. I love you, that's a fact, I know it--even if--even if you do--even if you hurt me, sometimes. You wouldn't hurt me for real. And I...I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about?" Zexion said harshly, still keeping his head lowered, though he'd nestled closer to Demyx. "It was me, all me...always me..."

"No," Demyx said in a low murmur. "It wasn't you. That person--the you who hurt me--wasn't you."

"Ohh Demyx," Zexion groaned, shaking harder. "Why? Why are you so forgiving, you--"

Someone was singing, nearby. Singing a soft and pained song that did much to soothe Demyx's jangled nerves. "Think of me...think of me fondly when we've said goodbye...remember me, once in a while please promise me you'll try..."

The other Demyx, a few steps beneath them, knelt beside his Zexion; they had wrapped their arms around each other and the other Demyx was stroking his Zexion's hair much as Demyx was doing right now, and he was singing. He had quite a lovely voice, but he wasn't singing to show off; he was singing to comfort himself, to comfort his Zexion.

"We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea...but if you can still remember, stop and think of me..."

"Demyx, I'm sorry," whispered the other Zexion.

"If you're sorry, well, I'm double sorry," his Demyx replied, before humming the tune of the song for a few bars. "We've got to try now, both of us. 'Cause we now know, don't we? We know... Think of all the things we've said and seen--don't think about the way things might have been..."

He stood up, hauling his Zexion up with him; it struck Demyx right then how much the other one did love his Zexion. He kept an arm around his Zexion's shoulder, keeping him steady, and smiled down on him with such tenderness that Demyx felt something ache in that space where his heart had once been. The tears blurred in his vision again and he let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away.

He'd been wrong. He and Zexion weren't perfect--and the other two weren't fundamentally flawed. He saw that now. It was humbling, and it was beautiful.

"Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned," the other Demyx was singing, still gently, as he guided his Zexion up the stairs with him. "Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind..."

"Wh-what...what was that?" hissed Zexion, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His lips were still trembling and he was still unhealthily pale; Demyx placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder, causing Zexion to blink and stare at him in alarm.

"I dunno," Demyx said, "but I think that was the master of the world. Screwing with our minds...sending us a message..."

"I hate to admit that..." Zexion paused a bit, that pained and tender expression returning to his face. It took Demyx's breath away. "I hate to admit that...the message may have been...sorely needed."

"Zexion, it's okay," Demyx said with a smile, taking Zexion's slender hands in his. "Don't change the way you are."

"All the same, perhaps I have been...too forward," Zexion said, the faint ghost of a smile flashing across his face.

Demyx could have died in love right then. He didn't think he'd ever loved Zexion so much before, never would love Zexion more. Of course he'd always loved his beautiful Zexion, his angel and devil and master--but all the same, he'd felt a slight discontent. The fear that Zexion didn't really care about him, that he was just messing around with Demyx's mind...but now he knew. He knew that Zexion was willing to change--somewhat, neither wanted to lose the darkness inherent to their relationship--and that, that was...if that wasn't a sign that he truly loved Demyx, then Demyx didn't know what was.

"Thanks, you bastard," he whispered to the sky, to the master of the world, offering her his most hateful smile.

He hadn't intended for anyone to hear, but it seemed the other Zexion had, because, stomping forward, clinging tightly to his Demyx's hand, he snapped, "Thank her indeed. She will not escape unscathed for this, I promise."

"The point of no return," his Demyx said with a sad little laugh. "You scared, Zexy?"

"Not at all," the other Zexion snapped. "Well? Are you going to invite us in? Or must we be rude guests and break down your door?"

At first, Demyx didn't know what he was going on about--but then, turning so that he was staring directly ahead, he saw that the staircase ended only about ten steps above them. And at the end of the staircase was...a grand manor, pure white in color and classical in style, lined with columns and statues of young men clad in elegantly swirling marble robes. It was telling that Demyx didn't look twice when he saw the statues bore his and Zexion's faces.

This must be it. The lair of the master of the world.

"You four are far more resilient than I give you credit for," came the voice of the master of the world, as serene as ever yet layered with some level of impatience. "Still, I will succeed. Only two of you may leave. That is an unshakable law and that will never change."

"Say whatever you want," Demyx shouted, rage unfurling like a sail inside him. "That doesn't make it true! All of us are getting outta here alive, got it?"

"Demyx..." Zexion said, looking stricken. Demyx flashed him a brief smile--which Zexion returned with the ghost of a smirk. Yet that smirk, however brief it'd been, was enough to incongruously delight Demyx. It was so damnably familiar, after all--Zexion's "I'm going to have to punish you later for this, you bad boy" smirk.

"My, my, such defiance. Then come for me. Just try to defeat me in my own realm. The realm of infinite possibility!"

The doors swung open--and blinding light flooded the staircase.

Seme!Dem seems to really like his musicals. But that's okay because "Defying Gravity" and "Think of Me" are great songs. I like Emmy Rossum's "Think of Me" better; I know that Sarah Brightman is technically a better singer, but IDK, Emmy's voice appeals to me more.

"Our wrongs remain unrectified" is a line from Muse's amazing "Sing For Absolution." It actually connects to one of my Organization project songfics, which was a Zemyx fic written to "Sing For Absolution." I don't know why, but that song strikes me as so very Zemyx-y.

Finally, I don't hate rap nearly as much as Demyx does. ~_^ Actually, I do hate most of it, but I make some exceptions. Namely, ROW ROW FIGHT THE POWAH!!! And I am of the firm opinion that Linkin Park was better when there was more rapping in their songs.

First non-music related comment--finally seme!Zex is showing a bit more of a vulnerable side. Out of all the characters, I have to say I like him the least (though I don't hate any of them), so it's a relief to write him in a different (i.e., less smarmy) way. I'll have more in depth thoughts on all the characters in the chapter ten ending note.

Don't forget to review!