I am so very, very sorry for this. May the world forgive me.
But admit it. You know someone was going to make this joke sooner or later.
Roxas awoke.
Well, he didn't merely awake, not really. It was more of a gradual, creeping thing. He'd been happily ensconced in dream land (he remembered something about a cat, a fat queen, and a bunch of card soldiers trying to behead him- better keep a close eye on X in the future) when suddenly vicious, nasty old Mister Consciousness stole up behind him and sank its festering, rotting barbs into his unprotected back.
He would have happily beat the daylights out of it (knocking consciousness unconscious, now there was a thought) with that giant key that followed him around (it wasn't much of a Keyblade, honestly, no point, edge, or anything else that usually went along with the term) but had found, to his eternal chagrin, that metaphorical manifestations of awakening can't be dispelled with giant hunks of metal, whether they be blades or no.
He awoke with a pounding head and a gaping hole in his memory. Apparently the gods of the forge had relocated to his skull, as every second that passed was a hammerfall of agony. This was the mother of all headaches, he supposed. Perhaps. The grandmother? Maybe… maybe even the great-grandmother.
Damn. Now that was a scary thought.
But what was far more disturbing was the fact that he couldn't remember anything after downing that 3rd martini at the annual faculty party last night. Some would dispute that he was a minor and therefore prohibited from alcoholic beverages, but what those (ugly and smelly, in Roxas' opinion) disputers failed to realize was that they were all minors. Having come into (non)existence with the un-aging physical bodies of their predecessors, most of them had really only been "born" a few years ago. Why, Roxas himself was perhaps the most handsome, intelligent, handsome, drop-dead gorgeous, and extremely mature 1-year-old alive. (One and a half, he would explain with great pride).
Ah, but he was drifting. In his own mind. While in the throes of a massive migraine. Was this the work of Namine?(He refused to dignify her name with the accent). She'd been known to mess with their minds before when those magic pieces of paper and crayons she so obsessed over apparently ceased being magic. Last week's escapade involved Saix (No accent for you either, bub! thought Roxas maliciously), an elegant yellow dress, the false memories of a certain resident of Beast's Castle, and the Beast himself. It was impossible to say who was the angrier upon Saix' restoration, which had only taken place after she felt Saix had flirted with the poor furball enough. No Nobody was allowed on his goddamn property, the Beast had elegantly informed them with all the couth of a middleaged airship pilot, except Xaldin, because they had poker and he needed to win Cogsworth back (and Roxas would be glad to see him go, the little bastard had made a bad habit of sitting on his endtable every night and ringing every morning). And Namine wondered why they kept her locked up at Oblivion.
But he couldn't smell the scent of broken crayons and decaying flesh, factors that usually indicated Namine's involvement. Therefore she was certainly not to blame.
But what if that's what she wanted him to think? What if she had put that memory there? What if she had put all his current memories there?
This day was getting scary and he hadn't even woken up yet. Headache or no headache, he desired to throw himself at the feet of the designated driver who had braved perilous danger to get the group home that night. Well, as long as it wasn't Marluxia. All that gardening and he never once washed his shoes.
With a groan, Roxas eased himself into a sitting position, barely registering that his cloak was off (an offense declared as high treason by Xemnas- "YOU WILL SHOWER AND SLEEP WITH THESE CLOAKS. LITERALLY. SLEEP WITH THEM NOW."). Nor did he notice that his gloves were gone too. And his shirt. And his pants. Wait, and his pants…? And his… boxers?
What the hell?
Okay, so maybe he did notice.
Yep, a quick glance down at his nether regions confirmed that he was a naked as his birth in the hospital room. Well, actually, that analogy doesn't work here, now does it? Hmm… Okay, as naked as the day he was spawned from Sora's body and soul. Was he naked when Xemnas found him? Yes. He was. Seriously.
Stop drooling.
Hand check!
You fail.
Obviously, something had happened last night. He didn't usually come home from drinking stark nude (that was Luxord. And Xigbar. And Demyx. And Axel. And sometimes Vexen. And occasionally Larxene, though they weren't exactly complaining) and on the occasions that he did, someone always took the trouble to gang up on him and force him to at least wear some boxer shorts. Last night, no Nobody did. Something was wrong here.
There was also the fact that this wasn't his bed.
Or his room.
Or his castle.
To be honest, he had no idea where he was. The room was dark and filthy, rats littering the floor (one of them looked particularly regal, and those round ears seemed kinda familiar). A shudder of fear ran through him. The Organization had a lot of enemies, after all. What if he had been kidnapped? He was also naked, of course. What kind of sick, twisted people was he dealing with?
"E'eey, Roxy, you're awake!" came a cheerful voice. Roxas twirled towards the door, expecting the worst- only to see that no one was there.
The voice had come from right next to him.
It was also very familiar.
"AXEL?" yelled Roxas in confusion as the red-haired man arose from a heap of blankets next to him- a little too close for comfort.
"Roxy… Foxy… Foxy Roxy!" slurred Axel. "Yeah… yeah… How ya feelin', foxy? Sore? I am! Doesn't mean I can't keep goin', though. You wanna do it right now?"
"…What?"
"Aw, whatssa matter, foxy?" grinned Axel stupidly. He slipped an arm around Roxas, who twisted away in disgust.
"Gah! Axel!"
"Thaaaat's m'name, beautiful!"
"What the… how did… what's… GAAAAAH!" Roxas, in his shock, had lost the ability to form a coherent question. "What… What happened? Why are you naked? Why am I naked? Where are we?"
"Why are we naked?" repeated Axel. "It was your idea to take off our cloaks. Personally I just wanted to do it with them still on, but you're so cute when you smile!"
"What? Axel, work with me here! What's going on?" shouted Roxas.
"Aw, all work and no play makes Axel a dull boy. I'd rather play with you. Like last night."
"Focus, man! We've got to figure out what-"
Suddenly and horribly, Axel's words hit Roxas like a Fat Bandit on a catapult.
"Are you… saying… we…" he whimpered.
"Hey, is Roxy awake?" came a voice from the covers, and suddenly Demyx was in the bed with them on Roxas' left. "Sweet! We ready to go again?"
"Demyx! Thank the heavens. Axel's gone nuts, he says we- Oh shit you're naked too and can we PLEASE STOP TOUCHING ME?" he screamed the last part at Axel, who grinned guiltily.
Okay. OKAY. Roxas took a deep breath, as he feared he was beginning to hyperventilate. He needed to stay calm, he needed to STAY CALM DEAR GOD WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT. His thoughts began to crash together and run over each other. A stray gust of wind pulled back the curtains, and Roxas spotted a large sign outside his window: Motel 6.
"Whatssa matter, Rox?" asked Demyx. "You're acting really weird. That last martini go to your head?"
"I think it did." said Roxas calmly, his voice seeming to come from afar. "It obviously did, which is why I'm having this nightmare. In just a few moments, I'll wake up in my own bed, and you two won't be there telling me we had a gay threesome-"
"Gay?" cried an indignant feminine voice from the covers, and then Larxene was there cuddled up next to Axel. "Do I look like a man to you?"
"AAAAGH!" screamed Roxas. "But-but-but!"
"I know, I know, it's sexy." Axel smirked, and Roxas violently recoiled from Axel's hand on his posterior. "I'll get to you in minute, okay? Larxy needs love too, and you got all the attention you needed last night." At this, Larxene purred and hugged herself close to Axel's head.
"BUT!" insisted Roxas. "How can she be here? She's dead! That Keybearer guy killed her! GHOST! GHOST!"
"He killed all of us," said Zexion, popping up next to Demyx, "but you didn't think we'd miss this just for that, did you?"
"Just how big is this bed, anyway?" Roxas was by now embarrassed beyond all recognition, blushing furiously and holding the blankets close to his private parts. "Um, uh, okay Roxas, think rationally here. This is clearly a hallucination, a dream, a subconscious manifestation of your fear of… sleazy motels!"
"Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, you know." said Zexion matter-of-factly. "And the only way to cure it is with good old-fashioned butt sex. Are we all ready?"
"I know I am!" came a deep rumble, and to Roxas' eternal horror, Lexaeus arose from the opposite side of the bed. To Roxas' eternally eternalhorror, Vexen and Xigbar came up with him, their arms wrapped around the larger man's waist.
"Hey, what's up with Roxas?" Xigbar seemed worried. "You look a little pale. It's okay to take a break, you know, as long as you don't try to leave or anything."
"IDOWANTTOTAKEABREAK!" screamed Roxas, leaping out of the bed with a blanket wrapped around his waist. "A long break! A permanent break! What happened here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" smiled Vexen. "I can't imagine why you seem so surprised, XIII. We are Nobodies, after all. Born of the body and soul of a lost heart. And the body has certain needs. For example, my body needs yours. Right now."
"I second that notion!" cried Demyx cheerfully.
"Y-y-YAAAAAAAH!" Roxas let out an agonized cry of sheer terror and ran to the door.
It was locked, of course. The headache from before seemed like a paltry walk in the park, surrounded by hundreds of butterflies compared to the raging horror that was stampeding across his mindscape.
"You can't leave!" cried Marluxia's voice indignantly. Roxas didn't even turn around, but only continued to furiously yank the door handle. Oh, if only, if only there was a way to unlock this door and end the nightmare! Some sort of magic key to-
Son of a- Cursing his own stupidity, Roxas summoned Oblivion and raised it to strike down the accursed door, only to have a lance fly in from nowhere and trap it against the wall. Teeth bared in an animalistic snarl, he whirled around with his back to the wall. Xaldin's head popped up from the sea of Nobodies in the bed, a positively evil smirk on his face. "You're not going anywhere, XIII. Come back to bed!"
"Never!" roared Roxas. His fingers began scrabbling across the wall, searching for a crack, an indentation, anything he could use to tear the door down with his bare hands. "This is totally pedophilia! Even Demyx is at least, like, three years older than me!"
Roxas, like most people, was remarkably selective about his age. When it came to drinking, he was a legal adult. When it came to waking up, hung over, to find that he may have had sexual relations with his twelve coworkers, he was an innocent little minor. Ah, the joys of loopholes.
"Geez, Roxas, that's not what you said last night." frowned Demyx. "In your exact words: 'I know I'm only fifteen, Demmy, but I still want you to stick it up my-"
"ENOUGH!" Roxas screamed. "All I want is to get out of this motel, find a barrel, and dunk my head in it!"
"I've got a barrel right here, Roxy." smirked Xaldin.
"That is not what I meant!"
"Angry is good look for you, Roxas." commented Marluxia, flipping his hair seducingly.
"I'll say!" Larxene grinned. "Ooh, Roxy! I wish I had a turn with you last night! Lex, why'd you have to hog him?" Lexaeus grinned sheepishly. "Ah, well, it's only morning. Let's make up for lost time, Roxy!"
Two cards appeared behind Roxas, blocking his passage to the door. If you can't figure out whose they were, go to school and educate yourself. If you already went to school and simply haven't played Kingdom Hearts 2, er, a little extra education never hurts.
Well, maybe sometimes.
By this point Roxas was hardly surprised to see Luxord appear in the bed next to Xaldin. Gang's all here! he thought madly. Everyone except-
The door suddenly burst open and Luxord's cards were sent flying. Slowly, dreading to the core of his being what he was about to see, Roxas turned around and gave a small whimper at the sight before.
Number 1, The Superior, Head Honcho of the Organization himself, Xemnas, stood before him, stark naked, carefully cradling several cylindrical cans in his arms.
"Rejoice, subordinates!" he boomed. "Let the bards of the universe sing tales of my epic journey to the breakfast lounge, for I have suceeded in my mission and obtained the whipped cream!" He held the cans aloft for dramatic emphasis. "Commence the creamed whipping!"
The assorted members on the bed began to whoop for joy. Axel swung his arms around Demyx and Larxene, all three of them grinning happily. Zexion wept happily while Vexen and Luxord began a tickle fight. Feeling left out- and NO NOBODY leaves Xemnas out- Xemnas jumped into the bed, spraying whipped cream all over his comrades.
Suddenly Zexion stopped crying and looked at the open doorway.
"Where'd Roxy go?"
"Um, George?" came a tentative voice from behind the receptionist counter. George, the resident motel janitor (and superhero by night- shhh!) looked up from the dirty floor he was mopping and over at his coworker Cindy, who for once was not engrossed in one of her teen magazines, and was instead staring at the open double doors of the motel in a mixture of awe, shock, disgust, and teenage (w)hormones.
"Yeah, Cindy? Someone's car get stolen out there?"
"Did a naked 15-year-old blond boy just go running through here and out the exit while screaming and waving a giant black key around?"
George stared at Cindy for a long time. Her gaze never wavered from the doors.
"Cindy, give me the drugs. I told you hallucinogens were bad news, but you never listen to me!"
"I'm serious!" Cindy waved her arms for emphasis. "It was at least 4 feet long!"
"Dammit, Cindy why do you think I want to know that?"
"I was talking about the key, pervert!"
"Whatever." George turned back to the floor, only to find that it had been sullied once more by bits of dust and plaster. He looked up at the ceiling, where the light fixture was swaying precariously and pieces of cheaply affixed plaster were falling off. "Sheesh! Do those guys on the floor above us ever stop?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" screamed Sora as he sat bolt upright in bed. His Keyblade (mis)adventures were at least 7 years ago, but the nightmares never really went away. He was plagued by fitful dreams of chaos and slaughter, where the beasts of the darkness finally found him, alone and defenseless, and sank into his flesh, their beady yellow eyes boring into his soul as they rent his flesh apart…
Of course, he greatly preferred those to this type.
Kairi stirred next to him as he stood up and walked over to the window. "Sora? You okay?"
"I don't know, Kairi." replied Sora grimly as he watched the moonlit tide. "I don't know if I ever will be."
"Another nightmare?"
"Yep. Another Roxas nightmare. I feel soiled that my Nobody ever joined that crazy Organization. It's like they raped him. It's like they raped me."
Kairi felt sorry for her husband, who had sacrificed more than they thought on that journey. "Well… The past is the past, right? It's over now, so… Come back to bed, okay?"
"Yeah, Sora." echoed Riku, Donald, Goofy, Mickey, Minnie, Jiminy Cricket, Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, Cloud, and Pluto from their various positions on the bed. "Come back to bed."
Old habits never really die.
I say again. Forgive me.