CRIMSON PETALS

Okay, for the record right now, I have NO IDEA where and why this story popped into my head. This is one of those EXTREMELY cracked Organization pairings involving Zexion and Marluxia. I'm so used to sticking with one pairing of people in a section and keeping that relationship going throughout all my stories that this one took me for a spin. My sister thought I was on crack or something and was going to call our parents to take me to more counseling for writing this. Of course she was also drunk at the time I told her so I'll take that into consideration, that, and steal her keys, (again)

Anyway, hope you enjoy.

I don't own anything in this story so all you greedy little lawyers can back the hell away from me…or I'll stab you with my Spork of evil.

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White and black, that's all they ever saw. Unless they were sent on a mission to one of the many worlds to do some scouting, the members of Organization Xlll stayed in the Castle that Never Was. Black, to represent the darkness they commanded, white to remind them of what they didn't have and their goals to accomplish. Zexion was sick of it all.

He was disgusted with the white, barren walls that staring into them could make one go blind. He was disgusted with the black, the constant reminder that they didn't belong in the light, the whiteness of the world. He was disgusted with the rest of his comrades who never complained about the environment they had to live in. And most of all, he was disgusted with himself.

Logically, Zexion knew he shouldn't feel this way. Hell, he shouldn't feel, period. But he did. He wanted to see just a tiny bit of color. It didn't have to be big, just maybe change the walls a darker white. They had no control over the food they ate. It all had to be either black or white, giving the members little to work with when it came to food preparation. Their rooms, while they could have stuff, had to be black or white. Superior's orders. He knew he was being greedy, but can't one dream even when you don't have a heart?

He always grumbled and shook his head when he thought about the colors and tried clearing his mind of it but, as the days inside the castle drew on and on, it kept getting worse. It proved to be too much for him the day Lexaeus came back from a mission. In the meeting, Lexaeus kept going on and on about what he saw while staking out the Pride Lands as a mighty lion. There was an oasis not far from the place he had landed in his Gummi Ship that he spent most of his time staying at. That little voice inside Zexion's head was screaming, "Why couldn't I see the colors too?" over and over in his head.

Soon the meeting was adjourned and Zexion began walking. In his head, colors kept repeating, blue, yellow, orange, green, purple, brown, pink. Dark colors like dark blue, hunter green, blueberry. Light colors like lemon yellow, orchid, light orange. But what color was missing? What was the missing color he couldn't think of? Ah, red. Red was the color he was missing in his monologue of color. Red was the color of rubies and strawberries and Number 8's hair. It was also what was coming out of Zexion's wrist.

Logically, Zexion knew he wasn't there. He knew that he had not walked to the bathroom, slumped down the wall, pushed up his sleeve, and dragged the knife he always carried with him, besides his weapon, across his arm. Logically he didn't sit there and stare as his blood began to first seep out of the cut then came gushing straight on the floor, the PURE white floor, staining it an awful shade of crimson. Logically he knew he didn't do any of this. He, when he was human that is, had survived the horrible household he came from, survived living on the streets, survived conducting the grueling experiments he helped with as Ansem's apprentice, survived having his heart taken away and becoming a Nobody. He knew better than to give up. He LOGICALLY knew better. So why? Why did it come to this? Why was he dying, feeling the life force being drained from his body and feeling his body fade? Why did it come to THIS just for him to see color?

His vision was fading. He was losing consciousness. He was too tired, too weak to call out or even make a dark portal to get help. He knew what tears were, having seen too many people while the Heartless rampaged over a town, and they were coming down his cheeks. Who knew Nobodies could cry? He tried laughing at his rhetorical thought only to have it come out as sobs. He suddenly realized his eyelids were very heavy. Logically he knew in situations like this, that one should not close their eyes, for fear of never waking up, but he was so tired. Just before he closed them, he thought he heard a noise and what looked to be a blurry shape of pink in front of him.

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"Zexion, Zexy…are you awake?" The gentle voice stirred Zexion out of his slumber. He opened his eyes and realized he was looking straight into Marluxia's. Wait, Marluxia? He groaned and tried getting up, only to realize he couldn't move his body. "Don't worry. I'll help you. You're just weak from the blood loss." Zexion felt like he was lifted up and soon he was in a sitting position on the bed. The queen sized bed, with flowery bed sheets, and smelled of roses. Zexion's eyes looked at the sheets and he began fingering them, that is, with the hand that wasn't bandaged up.

"Are you thirsty?" That voice again. He looked up at the source of the voice. If his brain were functioning normally like it wasn't right now, he would have known that gentle voice and Marluxia don't mix. But the voice, the gentle voice, the voice that only a mother or someone who really loved you would make, was coming out of Marluxia. THE Marluxia. Number Eleven. The Graceful Assassin. Said Graceful Assassin was holding out a glass of water that REALLY looked good right about now. Zexion whined a yes and the glass was soon pressed to his lips. While he drank, his mind was whirling. Did he just…whine?

The water helped and began to clear up his mind. Zexion began looking at his surroundings. The room was white but was covered in vases full of flowers. Unfortunately, they were all white, not like the colored ones that were on the sheets. The flowers on the sheets were the only color in the room besides… Zexion looked over at Marluxia who, while he had been looking at his surroundings, had gone over to a cabinet and was rummaging around in it.

Marluxia came back over with some bandages in his hands. Logically Zexion knew he shouldn't have been staring so intently at the man in front of him, but Marluxia's hair… Why was it such a brilliant and beautiful shade of color? Why was he thinking about this? Especially at a time he really should be cautious? He WAS called the Graceful Assassin after all. His train of thought was brought back to reality when he felt the pressure of the bandage on his arm lift. He looked down to see Marluxia undoing the bandages on his arm.

After the last bandage was unrolled, Zexion got a good look at his arm. He resisted the urge to empty himself of the water he had just drank, he was pretty sure nothing else was in his stomach. The gash, it was more than a gash actually, began at the base of his hand and traveled to where it was nearly at the crook in his elbow. He could also tell the wound had been pretty deep. The stitches in it looked hurriedly done, but also with a small bit of precision. Zexion stared at the wound in shock. Had he REALLY done that to himself?

Marluxia began applying a light green paste on the wound, gently rubbing it in. Zexion stared at his arm, with the green paste on it, and the hands that were oh so carefully applying this…color…to his arm. "It's a healing herb. It's really good for cuts and things." The gentle voice came out of him again. Zexion looked back up at Marluxia and his shock of pink hair. Why was he doing this? He was one of the newer members who despised the first six superiors. When given an order, he would never obey by it unless it benefited him. Vexen had even said he never got any respect from any of the "neophytes", the word they called the younger members. Logically, Zexion knew this wasn't right. This wasn't the way he portrayed Marluxia. Why was it that Marluxia was taking care of him instead of…?

It was beginning to hurt to think. Zexion let his mind go blank and he just stared in a daze at the bed sheets… The sheets with so…many…colors… A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality yet again. Why was if becoming so hard for him to stay focused? Zexion took note that his hand was bandaged again. He fingered the bandage; missing the feel of Marluxia's hands caressing his arm…Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Did he just think what he thought? He MISSED Marluxia's hands on him!

He looked back up at Marluxia, carefully studying him. The man had a half worried half relieved expression on his face. That couldn't be right though. Logically, Nobodies couldn't show emotions. It just didn't make sense logically. "Are you still tired? Do you want to lay back down?" Zexion felt his head shake. He couldn't go to sleep now, not when he had mysteries to solve. Marluxia walked away for a moment and came back with a mug in his hand. He handed it to Zexion. "Its' a special tea I brew. It will help you to focus some more since you want to stay up." Zexion sipped the tea and indeed did his head clear up even more.

Marluxia took the mug away when Zexion was done and placed it on the table beside them. "Now before you start asking questions on some things, there's something I'd like to know." Marluxia's voice had changed. No longer gentle, but the stern emotionless one Zexion, and the rest of the Organization for that matter, was used to. He took Zexion's bandaged arm in his hands and his voice, though still stern but had got softer, Zexion could tell. "Why did you do this to yourself?" Zexion gasped. Why DID he do it? What was the reason he had done this? "You know, usually when people try to commit suicide, they find a place no one can find them quickly, or in your case, they lock the door. Here I am, walking in the bathroom to take a shower when who should I find, bleeding to death on the ground, but you. You're the LAST person I thought would ever try something like this, so why did you do it? Are you THAT unhappy?"

Zexion didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he COULD say anything. The grip on his arm tightened and Zexion could hear Marluxia's voice beginning to quiver. "I nearly lost you a few times Zexion. I didn't know what to do when I found you. I knew I had to stop the bleeding somehow. I stopped it as best I could and tried to get Vexen, but he locked himself up in his lab. I did the best I could with what I had. I'm sorry the job is so sloppy, but I had to close it. You'll probably have a bad scar, but at least you're alive. I thought I was doing a good job but after a few days, when you didn't wake up, I was worried you were never going to wake up and…" "I wanted to see color." Zexion interrupted. "Color? You wanted to see…color?"

Logically, Zexion knew that Marluxia didn't…COULDN'T care about him, but he decided to humor him. "I wanted to see color. The castle is so white, no color at all. We have to wear black. Black and white, that's all we're allowed to gaze upon. I just wanted to see a small bit of color, just for a change from this emptiness, and when Lexaeus began talking about his scout duty and him describing all the colors…" Zexion didn't realize his own voice was cracking, cracking as tears fell from his eyes and his words became sobs.

He felt warm, warmer than he had been in the sheets and realized Marluxia was hugging him and gently coaxing him into his lap. Logically Zexion knew he shouldn't allow this, shouldn't allow Marluxia to run his fingers through his hair and gently stroke his back as he kept sobbing. Logically he knew that, now that Marluxia knew his secret, his weakness, that he shouldn't go back to sleep because he was suddenly feeling really tired. His eyelids again felt so heavy, he felt so sleepy even after saying he wasn't. Logically…logically…fuck logic.

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A strange smell invaded Zexion's sinuses and stirred him from his slumber. He wearily opened his eyes and came face to face with…green. Green? What the hell did he know was green? Grass. Grass was green. And that was exactly what it was. Zexion shakily got up, groaning as he did. His bandaged arm felt like it was in so much pain and kept throbbing. He tried blocking out the pain as he made out his surroundings. It seemed to look like a garden of some sort. The plants and flowers looked very exotic and rare and…beautiful. Never, even when he had lived in Radiant Garden back when he was human, did he see foliage so…colorful as the ones before him. A huge tree was right in the middle and Zexion slowly made his way to it.

Once he reached the tree after some difficulty, he looked up at it. The treetop was completely pink, the leaves? petals? gently swayed with the small wind. Zexion propped himself up at the trunk of the tree and sat there as some of the petals fell and drifted on him. He picked some of them up and held them in his hands, wondering why they looked familiar.

"They're sakura blossoms." Zexion looked up to find Marluxia standing over him with a bowl in his hands. Marluxia sat down next to Zexion and began to peel the fruit in the bowl. "Hope you like apples. They were the only fruit ripe enough to eat." he grinned as he handed a few slices of apple to Zexion. Zexion let the blossoms go and took the slices and slowly began to eat them. He guessed it had been a few days since having eaten last. He knew when you went without food for awhile, you should start slow and let your stomach get used to food again, lest you bring up everything you tried to eat.

Zexion hadn't realized he had been starving once he started eating the apple. He looked at his now empty hand where the slices were and silently wished for more. Somehow, Marluxia seemed to read his mind and he placed more slices into Zexion's hands. Marluxia kept restocking the apple into his hands until the bowl was empty. A small blush escaped Zexion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" "It's okay. You hadn't eaten in a few days and besides, I brought them for you. I didn't realize you liked them so much. I should have brought more, but they're good right? I grew them myself, just like everything else in here. It's my little secret that now you know too."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Zexion kept looking at the scenery, the grass, plants, flowers, Marluxia… He quickly looked down and picked up the petals he dropped earlier and began to study them. They were soft, like silk and were just a shade lighter than Marluxia's hair… His gaze slowly made its way back to the pink haired man.

A sharp pain in his arm forced him to drop the petal and he let out a whimper as he clutched his bandaged arm. Marluxia quickly sprang into action. "Darn, I'm sorry Zexion! I totally forgot!" He reached in his pocket and took out some bandages and some more of the green paste. Zexion scooted closer to Marluxia as he began unrolling the bandages. As he applied the paste, Zexion noticed the wound was healing faster than it should. Marluxia hadn't been kidding when he said the herb would help. Zexion let his mind go blank as Marluxia took care of his arm, watching the Graceful Assassin work.

Zexion hadn't realized that, while Marluxia was busy taking care of his arm, he was inching his way closer to him, until at last, he was resting his body next to him. He felt an arm go around his body and pull him closer. Zexion closed his eyes as he felt Marluxia's chest move up and down as he breathed and listened to the soft humming Marluxia had begun to make. Logically…no. No more logic for him, the Cloaked Schemer. Logic was for people who had nothing to do with their lives and no one to keep them from loneliness.

A chime brought both of them back to reality. Zexion moved reluctantly and Marluxia stood up. "That's probably Vexen. I left an urgent note about you when I couldn't reach him. Now we can get your arm properly fixed." Marluxia offered his hand to Zexion to help pull him up. Zexion stared at the hand, his eyes tearing up. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave this colorful paradise. He didn't want to leave Marluxia. Shakily, though, he held out his hand.

Marluxia patted him on the head instead. "I'll be right back." he softly said. Zexion watched as Marluxia walked away. He looked down. Why had he acted like that? What did he think he was doing? This was Marluxia's paradise of color, not his. Even if Marluxia had shared it with him, he knew he had already wasted enough of the Assassin's time. He knew he should have gone with Vexen. With Vexen's help, the wound wouldn't leave a nasty scar he knew he would have. But…Marluxia… He had done a good job without not knowing what to do. And it was healing nicely. He didn't need Vexen tinkering around with his arm. He knew Vexen would keep asking questions about what happened. He didn't want Vexen to know what he had done. Couldn't it just be his and Marluxia's little secret?

Even if it could just be their secret, he knew he needed to leave. He couldn't stay and bother Marluxia anymore. He had watched how to take care of his arm. All he needed was that green paste herb stuff. He would ask Marluxia to give him some when he got back and leave. They would go back to being members of the Organization, barely talking to each other. Zexion knew the only reason Marluxia had been nice was because he had been injured. If you could call what that was nice. Nobodies didn't have feelings he remembered. Even though…he would miss the gentleness Marluxia had shown…

Zexion heard the grass crunch and looked up. Marluxia looked down at him and smiled. He walked back over to his previous spot and sat down; placing the plant he had in his hands down beside him. "Well, I just gave Vexen ANOTHER reason to hate me. And of course now this plant is named Zexion. I grabbed this plant and hysterically said that Zexion was dying on me and if he had any books to help. He gave me this really creepy evil stare and flipped me off! Can you believe that! Well, you did know him before, so I guess you can but still…" "Look, Marluxia, I'm sorry. I was just wondering if…" "Why didn't you just say you didn't want to leave?"

Zexion looked down at the ground, absentmindedly scratching his arm. "I'm sorry. I should have gone with Vexen. I've wasted too much of your time already, but I didn't want him to start asking questions about what happened. I didn't want him to know what I did. Thank you for what you did but I've bothered you enough now. I can take care of myself just, could you tell me what herb you use to put on my arm so I can do it myself?"

Marluxia looked at Zexion, his eyes softening. He reached over and embraced him. Zexion gasped, but let his arms snake their way around Marluxia. Tears began threatening to erupt out of his eyes. "You're not a bother to me Zexion. You never were and never will be. Even though you were hurt, you trusted me to take care of you. I could tell that you were acting cautious, thinking I would do something. I know that you know my way of thinking, you being the Cloaked Schemer and all. The Graceful Assassin. You knew I could have done away with you at any time, that's why you were being cautious. But you didn't realize one thing while being like that, if I had planned to do away with you, why didn't I just leave you there to die on the bathroom floor?"

The tears erupted in full force as Zexion clutched Marluxia tighter. "Do you know why I saved you? It was because I saw in you the same thing I see in me. You and I both know you didn't want to die. It was an accident that made you do that. You enjoy life and the different colors that make it up just as I do. You wanted to see past what we are forced to live in. There's nothing wrong in that." Marluxia let go of Zexion and brought his hand up to Zexion's face, gently lifting it up so that Zexion was looking at him. Slowly he came toward the smaller boy and gently kissed him.

Zexion laid down in Marluxia's lap as Marluxia began to run his fingers through the boy's hair. The kiss kept lingering on Zexion's lips as he began to relax. It tasted like something but he couldn't quite make it out. "Hey, did I tell you that sakura means cherry in Japanese and that sakura blossoms are a symbol of rebirth and life? Oh, and that I made a killer cherry cobbler when the cherries start growing on this tree?"

Zexion smiled as he let sleep overcome him again. That's what the kiss tasted like. Cherries. That's what Marluxia tasted like. And the sakura blossoms…he had forgotten until now that that was one of Marluxia's attacks. And how fitting. Rebirth and life. Marluxia symbolized his rebirth and life. Marluxia had given him another chance at life, even though ironically, his weapon was more associated with a grim reaper. His name WAS the Graceful Assassin after all.

All Zexion had wanted was a little color in his life. Who would have thought that the only color he needed was a light pink sakura blossom.

Man, would LOGIC have a tough time figuring this out.

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(scene shift: tons of clouds, angels as far as you can see. They are all singing, "Halleluiah!")

I'm DONE! Holy mother of God did this take forever to write! I even wrote some at work, despite the stares I got. Writers of fiction take note. When you work in a place in a small town where everyone knows you, don't bring stuff like this to write on when you're on break. I learned this the hard way and now one of my coworkers thinks I'm a pervert. A female pervert…that's a new one…..

Anyway, this turned out better than I thought it would. Hopefully you'll agree. You'll LOGICALLY agree.

Review and make me a happy person. I'm a better person when I'm happy. I'm less likely to burn people's houses up and put sugar packets in their pockets when I'm happy.