A/N: Hey! I'm so excited! This is the sequel to Fading! ((Never thought I would say that)) So if you're here without reading Fading, then you'd better book it on back to my profile and check that one out first! This'll probably still be here when you get back ;)

This story takes place directly after Fading. There hasn't been much of a break at all in terms of time.

I'm gonna go back and edit this over tomorrow night. It's pretty late here now and so I'm just posting this for now. If you'd like to wait until tomorrow night to read it (this might have a few typos) you're more than welcome to.

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On the very edge of consciousness, the entire world seemed dyed into a startling white. Crass and harsh, the sharp color was almost painful to look at. The room was small— suffocating and cramped, the walls seemed to bend and cave forward, pressing down on him and making it difficult to breathe properly. Yet from the pressing sensation, there wasn't any kind of escape. There were no windows; the sole exit to the small prison was a small door on the far corner of the room. The color, that biting brightness of white, only seemed to make everything more insufferable— it seemed to exaggerate and highlight just how small the place was. Staying a moment too long in the room was enough to stab deep panic into anyone's chest, and a demanding sense of anxiety to bubble up in the back of one's throat. You were filled with a jittered-filled urge to shoot up and rush out of the confined space, and it was only made a million times worse when you realized that wasn't an option.

He couldn't move— the smallest twitch of a finger was the equivalent to trying to move a building with sheer force. He was prostrate, flush against the ground as he found that he could do nothing but rasp uneven gasps in and out. Apprehension and fear beat at the back of his throat, practically begging to be let out in the form of a sharp scream. But it was all he could do to hold back the shouts, leaving them to pound against the barrier of his clenched teeth. He was restless— pent-up energy seemed to course through every inch of him in an uncomfortable sear, yet he knew that attempting to move was a fruitless venture.

At first, that was all that existed. His inability to move despite his desire to, along with that harsh, oppressive color of white that caused his chest to constrict in on itself tightly. But then he became aware of something else; he could hear voices, slowly coming into focus as if they were static on a radio. A cold chill gripped the boy, and he immediately began to flounder; he had to get away, he had to leave now, he had to leave! But he couldn't. Heaving, he could only remain still as the voices came closer, sets of footsteps approaching him in a slow gait, as if in a funeral march. Panic rushed over him like waves on the beach, and it only grew as the footsteps suddenly stopped over him.

A pressure forced itself on the boy's left shoulder, and before he could react in the slightest, he found himself suddenly being wrenched to the side, forced onto his back rather than his stomach. The boy blinked rapidly— his sight was a little wavering, he couldn't seem to make very much sense of what was in front of him. Yet this only caused yet another wave of panic to clog in the back of his throat. He tried to move yet again, but yet again he came up with nothing, as if he was paralyzed. He could only lie still and watch as a muddled sense of clarity began to settle over him. There were people crouching over him; at first he couldn't tell who it was, but as muffled voices reached his ears, he knew that he could not mistake their identities.

The voices were just as hazy as the faces that peered down at him. His mind was scrambled, and he wished nothing more than to be able to make clear sense of it all, and to be able to move out of the way. He needed to get out of the way. He needed to. "…think that you're…but…" The person's voice, however recognizable, faded in and out of focus. He turned his head, feeling a harrowing cleave in the pit of his stomach as he could make out the black blur of hair, the glint of harsh blue eyes. Xaldin smirked, seeming to find amusement at his blatantly-apparent debility. And again, the Nobody's voice echoed over him as if he was underwater. "Look at you…pathetic…" He looked up, over at the other man that had walked in with him. "Luxor…hold…"

He felt more pressure push down on him, and though his mind was dragging and sluggish, the boy realized with a lash of shock that he was being forced down even further to the ground, in such a way that kept him permanently rooted to the spot. He was forced to be frozen and still, his chest heaving unevenly up and down as he struggled not to succumb into hyperventilation. Though he knew that such an effort would be put to waste. He blinked rapidly, clearing his eyesight slowly as he craned his neck awkwardly, looking down as he felt a force tug his arm out to the side.

His mind was going a million miles an hour by now— he was thinking of every possible thing that could happen and everything in between. Fear raced up and down his spine, yet he remained still. He tried to open his mouth; he didn't know what he was going to say, or how much it would change his situation whatsoever. But before he could get a syllable out, a sudden surge of excruciating pain inserted itself directly into the center of his hand. He tensed, his joints locking together as his mouth stretched open into a silent screech of agony.

He looked down, his eyes round and hollow with shock as he turned and looked at his hand. It was twitching, his fingers curled inwards slightly as fire burned at his skin. His vision was blurred, but the boy could clearly see what had happened— one of Xaldin's lances had left the man's side and was now buried deep into his palm, not all the way through, but deep enough. He gagged harshly, trying to twist and pull his hand back to himself, but the movement only caused him more harsh pain. He might have let out a piercing scream, but he didn't think so— he couldn't breathe in enough air for that. All he was positive of was the fact that he could hardly concentrate on anything at this point.

He heard a laugh over his head; he couldn't tell where or who it came from. But no sooner had the boy become aware of the chuckle did the lance suddenly twist sharply to the side, wrenching his hand right along with it. This time he was perfectly aware of his scream— it was far too loud to even come close to missing. He screeched and writhed, his hand clenching erratically as he tried to break away. But he was being held down— even as adrenaline pumped through his veins in response to the pain, he was still left rooted. His eyes shut tightly and he let out a harsh sob as the lance was forced down an inch further into his hand. His back arched sharply, and a harsh gasp wrenched itself down his throat.

Xaldin seemed to derive amusement from the sight of his distress. And the boy felt the lance give a harsh jerk once again, the spear nearly turning in a full circle. He let out yet another screech of distress, his forehead creased over in a severe amount of agony as his entire body was reduced to fall prey into a series of tremors and spasms. "Sora!" The boy wasn't even aware of the shout at first, the lance digging farther into his palm as he sobbed and shrieked, his throat already burning from its rapidly-growing misuse. "Sora!" He screeched, the boy suddenly becoming aware of a stinging sensation in his eyes and the feeling of hot tears rushing down his cheeks. "Sora!"

The third shout was the loudest, and it was enough to finally jerk the boy awake. With yet another harsh gasp, Sora's eyes snapped open, the boy finding that his heart was ramming unevenly against his ribcage. For a moment, all he could see was darkness, and Sora was rigid, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated in panic. His lungs refused to work properly, and he found that he had fallen into the pattern of hyperventilation quickly. He looked down at his hand, his head moving fast enough to give him whiplash.

It wasn't gushing blood; there wasn't a spear skewered through his skin. It was bandaged tightly; his skin was completely out of sight behind the white gauze. Instead of the hard bite of the ground underneath him, Sora was aware of the much more reassuring embrace of a mattress. There was no more forcing pressure on his shoulders…no more Organization looming over him…no more… Sora was gasping shallowly, and it was almost a full minute before he was aware of anything other than the pure fear and apprehension that was biting on his already-frayed nerves.

"Sora…" The voice, previously gently, was now noticeably softer— much gentler. "Sora, look this way please. C'mon. Over here." As soon as he realized that there was someone else beside him, the teenager immediately jerked, a harsh noise of both pain and terror grating out of his throat as he turned and whipped around to face the speaker. He felt a hand resting on his shoulder, and against himself, the boy's throat shut closed in terror as he wondered desperately whether or not he was in danger. And, slightly paranoid, he was bracing himself for anything.

But when he turned, instead of spasming in panic, he just blanked with slight confusion. Merlin had been sitting closely at Sora's bedside, yet now he was standing, bent over Sora where the boy lie, his blue eyes clouded with not only worry, but of severe pain as well. When the boy finally turned to meet his gaze, silence congested the room thickly. Nobody spoke at first. Sora made a move to say something, yet his mouth could only hang halfway open, the boy left mute. Merlin only seemed even more agonized by the boy's expression, looking down and watching as tears streaked down the sides of his face numbly. "It's alright, my dear boy," he murmured softly, obviously straining to try and reassure him in any way possible. "It's alright. You were having a nightmare; it's okay. You're awake. You're back— you're in Hollow Bastion, Sora; it's okay. You need to breathe, alright? Calm down, you can do it."

Sora blanched, his eyes shutting tightly. He forced himself to listen and make sense of everything that was around him. Right— no, this was…this was right. He was in his bed, which, pandering to his state of inability, had been moved back downstairs. He could hear the fire crackling and flickering in the hearth off to the side. And though he didn't actually move to do it, he knew that if he turned and looked over the actual room itself, he would see the Christmas decorations, which were still up. Merlin was by his side as breathing proof of where he was, and Sora struggled to take confidence in the physical touch that rested, albeit wearily, on his shoulder.

It was a dream. A nightmare. Well…more specifically, it was a memory. Sora had only been awake for a few days now, but he knew well enough by this point that specifics were to be avoided like the plague. He remembered that night with the same vivid-yet-foggy awareness that he had adopted in the last few weeks of being held inside of the Organization's stronghold. Along with every other thing that had happened to him, it lingered in the back of his mind like a cobweb he could not shake off. Bile rose in the back of his throat at the recollection, and he forced himself not to look back down at his hand, for fear of getting worked up all over again.

As he slowly came back to himself and came to terms with what had happened, his confusion and panic was slowly replaced instead with a large amount of embarrassment. He felt like some kind of stupid kid that was getting scared about a monster under their bed. He turned away from Merlin and raised his arm up – his only working one at the moment – to press the heel of his hand against his forehead with a small grimace. His voice was a small mumble, and it was hardly audible. "…I'm sorry." At that moment in time he was sorry for many things at once, but it did well enough to just let the wizard take the apology any way that he wanted.

Merlin blinked, drawing away as he realized that Sora had calmed down, though there was still an obvious spark of concern in the old man's gaze. "Oh no— no, no, my boy. You don't have to apologize." There was a beat of silence, and when it was clear that Sora would not reply, Merlin gave a small cough and glanced down at the ground. He seemed almost as remorseful as Sora was— maybe even more if such a thing was possible. "Would you like something to help you sleep?" There still wasn't a reply, and, noticeably slower now, he pressed: "I could fetch you a glass of water?" Sora kept his eyes shut, his eyes beginning to burn as he gave a small sigh. Merlin sobered, tilting his head to the side. "…Would you like to talk about it, Sora?"

The answer was already clear before Merlin could finish. "No." The reply came out a tiny bit harsher than what was first intended, and immediately Sora was overcome with a wave of guilt. He shook his head and cleared his throat, backtracking in the effort to try and make his reply better. "No, I just— it was stupid, I don't want to…" He hadn't talked about it; he hadn't uttered a single word concerning his stay with the Organization. He had put on a smile and made a point to shrug it off in front of everyone else; but he couldn't control himself as well when he was asleep, apparently. "I don't want to." His voice was slurred and befuddled with sleep— despite the amount of emotion that was crammed into the few words, it was almost too quiet to hear in the dark.

Merlin blinked, looking at the boy closely. "Are you quite certain?"

Sora replied by turning his head away. He couldn't roll over on his side; moving too much like that would only bring pain, and he couldn't roll away from Merlin without laying on his broken arm. The most he could do was turn his head to the right, keeping his eyes closed as he gave a small sigh. His forehead creased over in pain, and his stomach clenched in an uncomfortable way. There was a pause of silence, heavy and constricting where they lingered in the dark. Yet after a moment, Sora felt Merlin reach over and place his hand gently once more on his shoulder.

But no sooner had the touch registered to the young boy did it disappear just as fast. There was a series of footsteps fading away, and Sora realized that Merlin had retreated. The wizard must have realized that, especially at this point, it was better to offer solace rather than even more contact. Sora's eyes cracked open, and he turned his head slightly, looking over just in time to see Merlin start to step outside. The teenager blinked, yet another touch of guilt prodding at him incessantly. Nevertheless, he turned back, just in case Merlin glanced back his way.

His heart was still thudding a little faster than normal, and the scene he had just been forced to witness a second time felt like it was burning in the back of his mind. He looked down at his hand, the boy's heart tearing slightly as he remembered how long it had lasted. How, when Xaldin had finally wrenched back his lance to himself, he hadn't had time to scream anymore before a sudden warmth spread over his mangled hand. He had been so shocked. He hadn't known what to do, or what the odd change had meant. He didn't know what it meant until it had started all over again.

Four potions had passed before Xaldin had grown bored. Four potions had passed before Sora was left alone inside of that stupid room again. His hand was drilled through, offered a meager helping of healing salve, and then drilled all over again, four times over. There wasn't a reason for it. It was just…it was just to…

Sora looked away again and shut his eyes. He locked his jaw backwards and struggled to tear his mind away from the dark corner it had been flung back into. Instead he tried to clear his mind and even out his breathing— slow it down into a much more rhythmed sigh in and out. He tried to go back to sleep. But in the back of his mind – the same place that everything else seemed to be coming from – he knew that such an effort would be nothing other than wasted.

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It was snowing outside— again. It had started snowing nearly every day now at some point, and outside snow was quickly building up in drifts and stacks. It was freezing; you could throw a pot of boiling water outside and it would evaporate into mist and fog before it could even hit the ground. The fire was roaring in the hearth— Merlin was making an extra effort to make sure that it didn't weaken in the slightest. If even an ember sparked out of life, you were sure that the old man would scurry forward to correct the wrong. Everyone was decked out in thick sweaters and jackets, and some were wrapped up like burritos inside blankets. Once again, there had been talk of taking down the decorations sometime today. But it was pretty much agreed that they were probably going to stay up until New Year's.

Sora was sitting down on the floor, having eased himself down to the floor with the utmost care. Aerith had given him a baggy sweater to wear, and after working for a good – painful – three minutes, he had managed to finally wriggle into it. Over his baggy shirt a dense blanket rested over his shoulders. Though he couldn't move his right arm, he held it together with his left. There was a steaming cup of tea seated beside him, but he hadn't touched it since it was put there; he couldn't even tell who had put it there in the first place.

His injured leg – his left one – was left to splay out a little awkwardly to try and alleviate pain or stiffness from it. His better one was folded in in a halfway-crossed fashion. The boy wasn't paying any attention to anything; dark bags were weighing down underneath his eyes, and his mind was so exhausted that he was mostly left just staring dully off into space. He wasn't focusing on anything in particular; he was too worn-out to try. And, if he was being completely honest, he was almost too scared to let his mind wander too far away from him.

Ever since he had been jarred awake, he had been unable to fall back asleep and rest more. He was left with little to no energy. And in the back of his throat, the boy couldn't help but struggle to stifle down the lingering trace of jitters and fear that stung there from his nightmare. Despite his attempts to forget it, he couldn't manage the feat— his skin was still crawling. Frankly, he was almost happy that he was too tired to concentrate properly.

"Sora?" At first he didn't hear his own name being called. He was staring off towards the window on the far end of the wall, watching the snowflakes stream past the glass with a blank expression. But the next attempt at getting his attention was more successful, as the speaker's voice raised slightly. "Sora!" Immediately he jerked around, blinking as he jumped slightly. And as soon as he moved so sharply, the teenager hissed, closing his eyes and ducking his head as he gritted his teeth. Upon reaction to the sense of pain, Aerith straightened, looking concerned as her eyes widened. "Oh, Sora, I'm— I didn't mean to…" She seemed at a loss of what to say.

The few of them were all seated on the floor, clustered together around the game board that was in front of each of them. But it was clear that everyone who had been previously taking part in the game was now completely off of its topic, having looked up instead to stare with mirrored looks of apprehension Sora's way. Gradually, and with a deep wince, the teenager forced himself to straighten, despite the pain that wrapped tightly around his stomach with the correction. "No, no, it's—" He broke off and grimaced, shuffling a little bit and shaking his head. "It's fine, I was just—" His voice dropped into a low mumble. "I was just…spacing, I guess."

Aerith looked unsure, but she offered him a smile nonetheless. "It's your turn."

At first he was confused. "My…my what?" It took a moment to realize what she meant, and quickly the boy looked down at the board with a series of rapid blinks. "Oh, right— the game. Sorry." He had no idea what was happening; he had stopped paying attention. The other three had made progress it looked like; they were all in different parts of the board than the last time that Sora had looked. That, or Sora just wasn't paying attention to begin with, apparently. He scanned the board wildly for his piece, and when he found it he blinked, tilting his head to the side.

Glancing up at the others and realizing with a stab of panic that they were still staring at him intently, he cleared his throat. "I'll uh— I'll take a guess, then?" Aerith blinked, her forehead creasing a little bit. But she didn't say anything to discourage him. "Uhm…" Hurriedly, he looked over the board and at the cards that were in front of him. "I say that it was…that it had to be…Colonel Mustard…in the— in the kitchen with the gun." The last few words dropped back into a mumble.

Aerith blinked, looking confused as she looked down at the game board.

Yuffie was sitting close beside the brunette, and she looked just as befuddled as she did as she too looked down. Her mouth hung a little halfway open, as if she wasn't too sure on what she should say in reply. Upon their reactions, it was clear that Sora had done something wrong, and the brunet was immediately grasping for what it could be.

He looked across the board, a look of stress slowly crawling over his face. He was in the kitchen— there was nothing wrong there, he could still guess that. The gun wasn't in his cards, he was pretty sure. Was Colonel Mustard in his cards? He couldn't remember; he had just glanced over them to begin with. He hadn't even wanted to play this game in particular, but it was between this and Candyland. And he sure wasn't inclined to get all the way to the top of the board just to be sent back to the start whenever he drew the 'Mr. Mint' card.

"Sora?" He was roused by another voice, and he turned to look over to the left, already grimacing a little bit. The voice sounded worried, and its owner was even more so. Kairi's eyebrows were knitted together, and when Sora looked over at her with a more reserved expression, the redhead tilted her head to the side. "Sora…are you okay?" Her voice was weighted down in concern with the question, and Sora was really beginning to wonder whether or not Candyland would have been a better choice. At least in Candyland you had straightforward directions. With this, apparently he was wildly off-base.

"What?" Sora looked from the board to the girl, puzzled. "I-I just guessed…"

"Yeah, I know," Kairi said, still seeming anxious. "You gave that same exact guess your last turn."

"It was wrong then, and – I mean, I don't claim to be an expert on the rules – but, I'm pretty sure that it's still wrong now," Yuffie coined.

Sora shut his mouth with a snap, looking back down, though he still looked a little lost. He'd…he'd already guessed it…? Kairi seemed even more bothered by his puzzlement. She leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes a little clouded. "Are you okay, Sora?" When he didn't reply, too busy staring down at the game, she hedged on slowly. "Sora…if you don't want to play this, we don't have to. You know? If you want to do something else…then that's completely fine."

The teenager didn't reply at first. He cleared his throat after a moment, closing his eyes briefly and cursing himself. "I'm sorry, I just…I just haven't been…" He pursed his lips quickly and shook his head again, clearing his throat. "I haven't been able to focus today. It's not a big deal. Don't stop the game on my account. I can be better, don't worry about it."

Yuffie leaned back, trying to shoot the boy a quick grin, yet the expression came out a little wearier than was probably intended. "I think we'd better take a break," she offered helpfully, though it was clear that there was a little bit of hesitation layered over her words. "After all, we've been playing for…" She looked over at the clock on the far side of the wall. And her voice fell a little bit as she added slowly: "…a while. Maybe we can crack it open again a little bit later?" She looked over at Sora, biting down slightly on her lower lip at the sight of the boy.

He thought of turning the offer down a second time. But it was clear by the look that was being shared around the trio in front of him that even if he tried, it probably wouldn't work. He ducked his head, shifting with a small cringe as he tightened the blanket around him, the movement coming across as a little self-conscious. "Yeah, yeah, that's…I guess that's fine. Sure." There was a small pause of hesitation, Sora looking down and focusing on the mug of tea that was placed at his side. Mentally, he berated himself, knowing that he couldn't act like this. Number one, it was wildly rude. But, really, it was more important to keep any kind of concern off of him. They were worried enough as it was. Adding to their anxiety was just mean.

Aerith and Yuffie leaned forward and took up initiative to load the game away. They paused long enough to reveal the killer; apparently it was Mrs. Peacock in the dining room with the candlestick. Gee— he got absolutely nowhere close with his guesses. With both of his guesses— all two of them. Kairi helped them fold all the pieces back in, but when the two girls stood to put the box back where they had it – where had they found that? – she stayed back.

The redhead was still very clearly troubled. And, a small frown weighing down her face, she turned and looked over at Sora with a careful look. "Sora, are you sure you're okay?" The teenager reached down, grabbing hold of the string on the other end of his teabag and pulling up and down on it. But by now, something was seriously wrong if the leaves hadn't already soaked completely through. How long had he had it, like twelve minutes? Kairi didn't seem to pick up on the vibe that he would much rather avoid prying. Rather she just narrowed her eyes slightly. "You look exhausted, Sora." If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that her voice held inside of it a touch of reproach.

Sora turned, shooting her a look through raised eyebrows. He let go of the blanket, trusting it to remain on his shoulders for the moment as he leaned over to poke her gently in the shoulder. He looked down at her sweatshirt, noticing for the first time that day that it had a snowman on it. What else had he failed to notice so far? "And you still look way too filled with Christmas spirit considering Christmas was two days ago," he shot back, his voice light and teasing. He felt a touch of relief as Kairi softened, her worried look melting just slightly as the ghost of a smile twitched on the edges of her lips. Sora shook his head and leaned back, grabbing hold of the blanket again. "But you don't see me making a point on commenting about that."

Kairi shook her head, grinning now. "Hey, Christmas lasts until New Year's Eve; you know the rule." But before Sora could even start to find relief in the response, she had sobered, straightening up and tilting her head to the side. "Seriously, Sora, you really do know that if you need to…" Don't say it. "…if you need to talk about anything...I'll always be willing to listen. You know that, right?" She seemed just a touch alarmed as she said this, as if she was wondering what she had done to make him think anything differently.

Sora was torn. He didn't know whether to be frustrated or touched. It seemed like no matter where he turned, that was the question he was faced with. 'Do you want to talk?' 'Do you want to talk about it?' He knew that the question came from a good place; where else could it possibly come from? His friends were worried about him, and it was quite plain not only from the looks on their faces, but in their actions as well. But their concern, instead of making him feel better, only made him feel worse. Just like getting in that stupid wheelchair made him feel worse too.

The teenager turned and looked down at his tea, which had started to cool off by now. Childish as the thought came across…he just wanted things to be normal. He didn't want to be woken up at two in the morning because Merlin was just a little bit too loud when he came down to check on him. He hated looking up from whatever he was doing to catch the fact that at least two people were staring his way, their eyes filled with pity and sorrow. And it made it even worse when they quickly looked away, as if they could hide the fact that they had been gawking. He didn't like all these cushioned tones when people talked to him, and he didn't like the veiled sense of guilt and tension that crackled through the air sometimes like lightning. He didn't like any of this; he just wanted to keep things together and the way they were…before…

After a moment of silence, the smarter part of his brain quickly admonished the thoughts. Let's try not to be a complete idiot, alright? That might be a good plan. She was worried— they all were. Why wouldn't they be? Sora was worried…why should he get bitter over people feeling the same way? And, glancing back over at Kairi and seeing his friend so unsettled, he found that he felt a little better. A little clearer, at the very least. She cared enough about him to try and help; he would be an awful person to throw it right back into her face. Giving out a small sigh instead, the teenager softened, offering the girl a small smile. "Yeah," he said, giving a small nod. "Yeah, no, I know. Of course."

Kairi waited a heartbeat, watching him almost expectantly. She was probably waiting to see whether or not he could actually weigh in on her offer. But when Sora only stared back at her just a levelly, she cleared her throat, speaking a little reluctantly. "You're sure you're alright, then?"

Sora nodded. "Completely. Why wouldn't I be?" Moving on before Kairi could try and pry any further – and he had the idea that she might – Sora started to reach out for his cup so that he could nudge it closer to her. "Do you want this?" he asked. "Aerith gave it to me before we started playing, and my stomach is kinda—" He broke off abruptly, his mouth snapping shut along with his eyes. He flinched deeply, the slight movement of reaching for his cup causing his side to split with a lash of pain. The boy jerked his arm back to himself quickly, whining in the back of his throat as his forehead creased over. He ducked his head down so that his chin was touching the top of his chest, the brunet being forced to wait until the agony ebbed itself away.

Kairi was alert at once, leaning over as her hand rested softly against his shoulder. "Sora?" Her voice was taut with panic, and no doubt it garnered the attention of everyone in close proximity— which was the entire house. But if the redhead noticed she gave no heed, she just looked at Sora in concern, waiting for him to right himself. And when he did, his eyes raw with pain, the teenager blew out a shaking sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, as if to try and clear it. Yet Kairi wasn't all that assured with the reaction. "Sora, are you okay? What happened?"

He blinked rapidly to clear the dots away from his eyesight. His head was pulsating, yet the boy was rather skilled in trying to look past such a sensation. "It's fine. I just—" He held back a sigh of frustration and looked down at the mug with something akin to disdain. "I just was trying to scoot that over to you." The words ended in a harsh mumble. He felt like a knife was stabbed up in between two of his ribs, and it made breathing a little harder than it normally was. Trying to look past the burst of pain, and he cleared his throat, trying to hide a flinch a little unsuccessfully. "You can have it if you—"

Kairi was already shaking her head, looking saddened. "No, no, that's…that's fine." She frowned, looking at him a little closer. "Your stomach hurts?" Sora opened his mouth to reply, but the girl was already going on again, looking back and glancing over the room with a worried expression. "Do you want some medicine? I know Merlin already gave you some, but if it isn't working, then I can get you more." When the boy didn't reply, she looked back, her blue eyes pained. "Sora, you really should try and have some of it. You haven't eaten much at all since you woke up."

Sora held back a small sigh. He turned and looked down at the ground to where the board game had been only a moment or two before. "I'm not hungry."

"It's been four days, Sora." The objection was small.

He just nodded, not giving an audible reply.

Kairi hesitated. She stared at him levelly, and through her worry-clad look, she started to try and say something more, as if to press on. But thankfully before she could get a single syllable out, the door opened behind her. It cut her off before she could even start, and Sora turned, feeling the smallest sense of relief at the distraction. Yet what started out as the smallest hint of a smile on his face only grew and widened at the sight of everyone who filed in. Goofy and Donald were first inside like they normally were when they left. They dashed inside, their eyes already combing the house before landing on where Sora was hunched on the ground, wrapped up in a blanket.

"Sora!" Goofy chirped, a smile immediately slapping itself over his face. He bounded over to the boy, obviously overjoyed just at the mere sight of the teenager, however harrowed the boy was at the moment. "You're up now!" He skidded to a stop and stooped down, leaning over and wrapping his arms around the boy without hesitation.

Kairi stiffened noticeably, starting to reach out as if to try and get him to stop. But Goofy was smarter than he seemed— his hold on Sora, though bracing, was more than gentle enough. It was loose, so he wouldn't hurt the boy or jar his injuries. And though Sora was grateful – he certainly would like to avoid pain if it was possible – it also brought a sense of sorrow to touch over his expression.

He remembered all the other times that he had spent with Goofy and Donald. He remembered how, when they had finished off Shan Yu and saved China, Goofy and Donald had immediately crashed into him, wrapping their arms around them so tightly that he couldn't even breathe through his laughter. Or when they had first tried out practicing dancing through music in Atlantica and Goofy had tripped over himself, spinning out of a haywire flip and careening straight into Sora and Donald, who had been bickering about tempo. At first he had been frustrated – Donald hadn't been helping in the slightest – and he had tried to be irritated. But the effort was wasted; they had all started cracking up in less than three seconds despite the fall.

This wasn't like any of those times. It was way too gentle and way too…well, it was way too different. It was like he was made out of glass now, and even Goofy, who was so clumsy and aloof nearly all the time, was taking care of tiptoeing around the boy. It wasn't like it had been. Despite the thoughts, and despite the fact that Sora's throat closed slightly on him, the boy grinned, looking up as Goofy drew backwards and offering him and Donald a wide beam. "Yeah, sorry about that, I was just…" His excuse slipped his mind, and quickly he righted himself, shaking it off. "How's it look out there?"

Before Goofy could reply, someone else beat him to it. "Just as boring as it's been. No changes whatsoever." Sora turned, his grin lightening noticeably as he turned and looked over to the door, watching as Axel strode his way inside over the threshold. The man had twisted his head to the side, reaching up to brush aside some snow that had dropped onto his shoulder. Sora beamed at the irritated look that was on his face, and the smile only grew when the Nobody turned, shooting him a mocking look at the sight of how amused the young boy seemed to be.

"Aw, no," Sora mumbled, watching as Leon filed in after Axel. The party had left like they did every morning to go and do a once-over of the entire town. It looked like, just like the other days had, they came up without any threats. Unless of course they counted Scrooge and his awful ice cream as a danger. "It really can't be that boring out there, can it?" There was a note of wistfulness in his voice as he asked the question, yet it wasn't as noticeable to the others as it was to him. He would give his leg – it certainly didn't work as well for him as it was – to be able to run outside and breathe in fresh air. The past few days he had just sat around the house, trying to juggle his pain and discomfort while trying to remain outwardly optimistic and social. And that wasn't as easy as it sounded.

Axel gave a huff, rolling his eyes pointedly. "If I have to listen to one more spiel from your pal over there," he gestured over to Goofy, who didn't seem all that bothered by the implication that being sent his way, "then I will explode. And I will take that guy down with me." It was clear that Axel wasn't meaning to be hurtful, and Sora grinned once more as the Nobody flashed him a meaningful look, mouthing out: Do you even know how long those last? Yes, Sora knew. Once, while scouting out the new world of the Pride Lands, Sora had listened to a twenty-minute long story about how one time Goofy had made a mistake and locked Mickey out of the castle and let a Heartless in on accident. Entertaining? Sure. Long? Even more so.

Leon grinned at their exchange, yet his eyes softened a little bit more as he turned and looked over at Sora. "Hey," he greeted, his voice warm as the boy perked up from his blanket. "How you doin' champ? You feeling any better today?"

He smiled, albeit tiredly. The expression didn't reach his eyes in the slightest, yet he answered brightly nevertheless. "Totally. I just got back from running four entire laps around Hollow Bastion." He grimaced; he couldn't stay still in one posture for long before pain started to wrap around his stomach. The boy shifted and tried to compensate, his forehead creasing as he moved over into a hunched and awkward position, finding that such a pose was the only one that would really keep weight, and therefore pain, off of his midsection. It was a hard thing to accomplish. Clearing his throat and making sure his voice was clear, he added: "But you missed it. And now I'm tired; so don't expect anything else from me."

Leon grinned at the attempt at humor. Sora was about to return the gesture when the last remaining person of the party filed inside. He was always last in, and he was always first out. Sora blinked, his attention flickering away from Leon to the newcomer, and immediately he tried to welcome them the same way he welcomed the others. He grinned up at Riku, though the expression felt somewhat awkward on his face. Riku started, a smile folding over his own face as his eyes fell down to where his friend was on the floor. "Hey, Sora." Kairi turned, brightening at the sight of her other friend. In comparison to Sora, who was on-edge and ill-looking, it seemed much more genuine. "What happened to playing a board game? When we headed out, Yuffie and Aerith mentioned something about Clue."

Kairi started to reply, yet when Sora caught sight of worry creeping back into her eyes, Sora started to speak before she had the chance. "We came to the realization that I couldn't solve a murder if it happened right in front of me two seconds ago. It kind..." He cleared his throat as it his voice gave out on him in the middle of the sentence. He grimaced and doubled back to fix it. "It kind of fizzled out." He looked down at the ground again, studying the floorboards and watched as, after a few seconds, they started to shiver and shake in front of him.

He was exhausted.

The boy looked down, letting go of his blanket and reaching up to rub at his eyes. He felt like keeling over right this second. Yet he knew better than to try and take a nap, especially now when everyone was inside the house. He would much rather stay awake— having a repeat of last night would only be multiplied in terms of embarrassment and shock. So he shook his head back and forth in the attempt to jar himself awake, and Riku looked over at him with a tilt of his head. "Sora, are you tired? You can—"

"I'm fine." The words came across much sharper than Sora first intended. But he was more than irritated by now. How many times had he been asked that question in the past hour? He was starting to wonder whether or not he should just go and pretend to sleep; maybe then he would be able to duck out of everyone's focus. But he knew that it probably wouldn't stop even then. He would just be turning a blind eye to it like he was struggling to do at the moment. If it didn't work now, it certainly wouldn't work later. So he took in a small sigh and shook his head again. "I don't want to sleep. I'm perfectly awake."

Riku blinked. At first he seemed a little surprised and unsure of how to reply. Yet he recovered quickly and offered the boy a small grin. "Yeah; of course. Sure." Sora didn't look back over at him this time, staring off to the side with the smallest trace of a frown. Riku seemed awkward; he hesitated briefly, as if wondering whether or not to try and drag out more conversation from him. But Kairi looked over at him and offered a small shake of the head. He closed his mouth and locked his jaw backwards, seeming pained. Nonetheless, he dropped the subject. He turned, doubling back over to Merlin and starting to rely what they had seen around town.

Goofy had watched the interaction between Sora and Riku closely, and his friend's eyebrows pulled together in sharp concern. "Sora?" At first he thought that the brunet was ignoring him. Sora just kept staring off into space, his eyes suddenly distant and far away. And after a few seconds of the boy just looking off and not focusing, Goofy realized he just hadn't heard him in the first place. He leaned a little closer and raised his voice slightly. "Sora?"

Sora tensed and jumped at once. He whipped around, blinking rapidly, as if he was roused from a dream. The movement took his breath away, and he bent over slightly, his good arm going down to clutch around his stomach with a cringe. Goofy pulled backwards as he immediately picked up the sense of fear that swamped through Sora's blue eyes for a panicked moment. Quickly, realizing himself, Sora struggled to shake off the sense of bottled anxiety. But it was too late— it was clear by the look on his face that Goofy had not only picked up on the boy's panic, but he had also garnered his own alarm from it as well. Sora opened his mouth to try and fix his accidental wrong, yet Goofy beat him to it. "Sora, are you alright?" Immediately the boy's grin dissipated, and he pulled backwards slightly, as if stung. Oblivious, Goofy pressed: "Are you okay? You look a little—"

"I'm fine! Okay!? Can you just stop!?" The yell burst out of Sora's mouth before he could even begin to stop it. Goofy blinked, his eyes widening a little bit at the shout. Sora's face creased over in the smallest hint of anger as he looked up at his friend. Yet as realization dawned slowly over him, and as everyone present in the house went silent to turn and look back at the teenager, Sora blinked, slowly coming back to himself. He had lost control of his breathing slightly, and, gasping softly, his eyes rounded out slowly. Guilt swamped forward to replace his panic, and quickly, he shook his head. "Goofy, I didn't…" His face fell and his voice fell even more as it dropped into a small mumble. "I didn't mean to yell, I'm…I'm so sorry…"

Goofy recovered as quickly as he could. He grinned toothily, but Sora was not swayed by the attempt at reassurance. "It's alright, Sora! Don't you worry 'bout it!" The boy's stomach twisted into a knot with the words, and his throat swelled a little bit as he looked away. "I shouldn't have bugged you so much."

Sora shook his head, feeling his lower lip start to tremble and shake. Color rose up to his face and though he tried to stifle it, he couldn't manage the feat. "No, don't try and turn it so that…" He trailed off, sighing underneath his breath. Frustration beat in the back of his throat and it was all he could do not to tip his head back and scream. He could feel everyone's gaze burning through him, and the tension and worry was palpable in the air; if he had a knife, he could quite literally cut through the empty space. He didn't look back up at Goofy, and his voice was a quiet as he mumbled: "I'm sorry."

Goofy started forward, as if to try again. Kairi cleared her throat pointedly, and as the girl turned and looked pointedly over his way, Goofy gave a small nod and started to take a few steps back. Sora didn't turn back when Goofy left, looking down at the mug instead as he reached out to lightly touch the steaming mug in front of him. It was still hot— it warmed his hand upon initial contact. It must have been boiling in the first place to still be so warm; maybe, having hindsight, Aerith had made it so hot to begin with because she knew that Sora would not drink it. Or maybe she knew that at the very least Sora would let it sit for a long while before taking his first sip.

He stared down at the cup, his eyes slightly narrowed as he kept his hand in place, feeling the warm sensation grow into the smallest burn and prickle. It wasn't enough to actually hurt him; yet his gaze was heavy as his palm lingered. His shoulders drooped, and he gave a small sigh, which came out immensely tired. And, feeling self-conscious, he bit down on his lower lip in the effort to keep it still.

Four potions.

It had lasted four potions.

He wished that it could just get out of his head— it was like the memory was wedged somewhere deep and no matter how hard he scrambled at it, it just wouldn't get out. It was in the back of his head like a ghost. He gritted his teeth and wished that he could concentrate on something else; he would really take anything over this at the moment. But his plea only came up disappointed. Choking back his pained exasperation, the teenager remained still, just staring down at his cup and keeping his hand there, slowly growing used to the slight sting that the beverage's heat inflicted on him.

"Hey." Sora blinked, turning as Kairi spoke up. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were even more so as he turned and met her stare. She offered him a small smile. Reaching over, she put her hand gently on his shoulder. "It's okay. Right?" The young girl shook her head. And, glancing back at the others, who were slowly returning to what they had been doing before, she went on in a small whisper, lowering her voice. "Sora, no one blames you if you're upset. So you shouldn't blame yourself either. You know?" She nodded bracingly. "It's okay. It'll all be fine."

He didn't reply; he just stared at her.

Four potions.

Kairi scooted closer, so that there was – at the most – only a few inches of space between them. She leaned over and wrapped her arms very gently around Sora, keeping her hold on the boy as light as she possibly could while still offering a sense of comfort. And she remained there, desperately offering any kind of security that she could. At first Sora didn't move or react. He only blinked and stayed still, trying to find a way to hold himself under her embrace that wouldn't cause him more pain. But eventually he dropped the attempt. He was too tired. He was too exhausted.

Turning to the side and giving a small flinch, Sora ducked his head down and pressed his forehead down into the crook of Kairi's neck, shutting his eyes and giving out a small, slightly wavering sigh. The girl responded by tightening her hold just a little bit, shifting so that he could maybe be a bit more comfortable. He was at a loss of what else to do. He couldn't get up and walk away to clear his head— his mobility was vastly reduced, and he wouldn't be allowed an inch out of the house. He couldn't try to fall back asleep and get some of this exhaustion off of himself— he was afraid of what would be waiting for him when he closed his eyes.

He couldn't…well, he couldn't do anything, really.

The best he could do was lean to the side and try to breathe through the pressure centered around the stab wounds in his stomach, groping for some kind of relief that seemed a bit too out of reach.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

A/N: A review reminded me that I left something out of the intro! This story will not be purely emotional. No; upon further plot-creating, I've decided to scratch that. This story will have just as much, if not more, action as the first one did, so don't worry! But, as you can tell from this chapter, there will be much more emotion than the first one had. This is just an intro, so just sit tight.

I do stand by what I said before though. No matter how excited I am for this story, I am not about to ruin the first one. If this story does not get reviews, I'm pulling the plug. I really don't want to do it, but at the same time I don't want to mess anything up. So please review! Not only for that reason, but also because I sincerely would like to know what you think about the story and what it's shaping up to be. So…yup. Like I said, any questions, feel free to PM me! And…yeah! I hope you like the first chapter!