Michele-Bell - Thank you for the beta, youaretrulyamazing. Not quite sure why you still bother with me, but I'm so glad you do.

rr - Already got your review earlier, so you don't need to bother reading this (again). Have a great vacation ;)

Notes - Written shortly after dispatch to the sea floor, which would explain some of the similarities, I suppose. Guess I couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote the ending to this. Based on prompt: next-life. So, yes. It's gonna be one of those.

[rusty getaway cars]

X

"Hey, don't freak out or anything," Roxas says, his sopping hair dripping down into his eyes. He blinks a few drops away and adds, "Please."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." Axel isn't completely retarded. It'll take a lot more than a blond kid on his fire escape to freak him out. He digs out a flattened cigarette carton from his pocket and frowns at the soaked packaging.

Fuck. He just bought it yesterday.

Roxas glances up, his fingers still pulling anxiously at a hole in his sleeve. "What?" Roxas asks, shifting nervously, and Axel notices a faint bruise peeking out from the collar of his ratty sweater. Maybe it's just the light, he thinks. He hopes it's just the light. "Do you need a lighter or something?"

"Nah, I need some dry cigarettes."

"Oh. Um. Sorry, I don't-"

"Yeah, it's fine."

They lapse into a silence that isn't as awkward as it should be.

It can't keep raining like this forever, Axel thinks, and sticks his head out over the edge of the fire escape to peer up. A few seconds later, a fat raindrop lands in his eye and he jerks back swearing. "Fucking rain. Jesus."

"Y-yeah, I know." Roxas pulls his sodden sweater closer around himself and clenches his jaw tight, but Axel can still hear his teeth chattering. Maybe it's from hypothermia. It's not like he'd know.

"Listen," Axel says, waits until Roxas stops staring down at his dirty shoes and meets his eyes before continuing. "You can come in if you want. Just leave before my mom gets back from work. She hates it when I have people over."

Roxas blinks and Axel is surprised to see confusion mixing with suspicion in his narrowed blue eyes, and, jesus, whatever happened to being grateful?

"Why?" Roxas asks, edging away until his back is pressed against the rusty railing. The balcony creaks ominously and Axel resists the urge to grab hold of the railing. "You don't even know me."

Axel shrugs, fakes nonchalance and says, "Sure I do. Roxas, from 4C. You live right above me. I can hear you sometimes."

Roxas flinches and Axel realizes that really he needs to shut up. Yells and shattering glass don't count as introductions, even if he can hear a few names screamed in hoarse voices between the crashes.

His apology dies in his throat when he sees Roxas's pale face turned stubbornly to the side, like he's just waiting for Axel to say something stupid and meaningless; something sympathetic.

Axel shuts his goddamn mouth because that feeling is too familiar to laugh at.

After an eternity of heavy rain splattering on pavement and downcast eyes, Roxas nods once, jerkily.

And follows Axel in.

X

"You know my name," Roxas says, but somehow it's not an accusation or a question. He pauses awkwardly by Axel's bedroom door, his sopping sweater cast off to reveal a dark green t-shirt plastered over fragile bones. It is, most definitely, a fading bruise on his collarbone.

Axel tosses him a shirt. "Here. You should change out of your clothes before you die in my room or something. That would suck. For me, at least. My mom never believes me when I say I didn't do it, and your dead body would be a little hard to explain."

The slight quirk in Roxas's lips sends an unexpected shiver down Axel's spine. He rubs his arms absently before bending down again to rummage through his drawers for his old sweatpants, a hoodie he outgrew a few years ago. It's easy to push the feeling down and pretend he's busy.

"Here," he says, holding out a thick gray sweater.

Roxas looks at it for a few seconds before reaching out to take it gently. Axel looks away when Roxas starts to peel off his t-shirt.

When Axel glances up again, he sees Roxas perched on the edge of his bed, dressed in his clothes, looking downright anxious as he tugs absently at a fraying sleeve and chews on his lip until it's close to bleeding.

"You're Axel, right?" he blurts out, flushing when Axel looks up at him and nods, a little surprised. They've never talked before today. He would have remembered it.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd you know that?"

"Uh. Same way you know mine, I think." Roxas pales and adds quickly, "I mean, not exactly like that. I've heard people yelling it, in the morning and at night and stuff, and you yell back, so I kind of figured. I think they're your friends."

Axel's friends are the loud-mouthed assholes who come by every morning to pick him up for school. It makes sense.

Axel thinks quickly and says, "Well, I didn't actually say anything to you, so it doesn't count. Hey, lemme try it again." He sticks out one hand and waits, grinning. Roxas looks at it warily for a few seconds before holding his own hand out, his fingers cold against Axel's warm, tingling skin. This is the first time Axel's bothered to introduce himself with a fucking handshake. He must be going crazy.

"Axel," he says, tightening his grasp. "From 4B."

"Roxas." Roxas hesitates and then draws away slowly. "I... I should be going. It's almost six."

Axel's mom gets home every night at eleven. As far as Axel's concerned, that means he's still got a few hours left to kill and he's too bored to spend them alone.

"Wanna eat? I bought some Hot Pockets."

"Really?" Roxas asks incredulously. "I mean, it's your food, I shouldn't – I shouldn't even be here, and your clothes-"

"Seriously. The Hot Pockets were on sale, nobody's going to die if you eat some. My mom really won't care."

"I…" Roxas looks down at his hands twisting nervously on his lap. "Uh. Okay. I mean, if you're cool with it, then...okay. Thank you."

"Awesome." Axel pulls Roxas up by the wrist and drags him to the kitchen, sidestepping an oily pizza box on the tile floor and depositing Roxas on a creaky chair near the window. "Hey, sorry about all the shit everywhere."

"Nah, it doesn't look too bad." Roxas looks around at the dirty dishes piled up in the sink, the half-eaten cartons of takeout on the grimy counter. "Um. Want me to help put some stuff away?"

Axel laughs. "You kidding me? Fuck that. I was just pretending to be polite. Cleaning's for pussies and people who don't have anything better to do. My mom might have a fucking heart attack if she sees how ugly the kitchen table is under all the piles of crap." He dumps a box of Hot Pockets onto a paper plate and jams it into the microwave before going over to collapse on the chair next to Roxas.

"Okay," Roxas says, smiling a little as he traces a bright orange flower pattern on the cheap plastic tablecloth. It's covered in grease and stains but he doesn't seem to notice. "I wouldn't want to kill your mom by accident or something."

Axel beams. "Yeah, that's right. Messes are good, it's the neat freaks I'm worried about. It's like, why would you clean so much unless you've got something to hide?"

"Right," Roxas says tonelessly, but Axel can tell that he's hiding a grin beneath his floppy hair. "Hey, um. Thanks for helping me out. I mean, I know you didn't have to. And not that many people would."

"Yeah, sure. The fire escape is pretty cool, but I think this is way better. And my cigarettes are finally drying out, which, you know, is doubly awesome."

Roxas looks at him curiously. "You go outside to smoke?"

"Yeah. So it doesn't smell so much."

"That's... really nice of you."

Axel almost snaps something sharp back, but Roxas doesn't sound like he's making fun of him, and that's too weird. Boys are never this open with each other. Not unless they're about to die or something.

Axel coughs a little. "So, uh. Hey, what were you doing outside?"

Roxas shrugs. "I was stupid and locked myself out. I thought I could get in through the fire escape, but the back door was locked and nobody was in, so I was trying to get back down, and when I got to your floor - " he looks down at his hands, bites his lip hard " - uh, then you came out."

"To smoke."

"Yeah."

"And invite you inside."

"I - I guess. I don't know. Maybe?"

"Definitely." The microwave dings and Axel stands up to take out the food. He can see Roxas's face reflected back on the black plastic of the microwave door; pale and confused.

"I'm Axel," he says, slowly, experimentally. "And you're Roxas."

"Yeah, okay." Roxas rolls his eyes, his lips twitching up for a split second. "I think we have that nailed."

"We've met before."

Roxas blinks. "Sure, I mean, I've seen you on the stairs and stuff. Maybe outside a few times, on the street?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I…" Axel drops the steaming plate in front of Roxas and braces his arms on the table, leaning forward. "Hey, don't you think we've met before?"

His heart feels like an old brittle rubber band, about to snap.

A few seconds crawl by before Roxas drops his gaze and mumbles, "Sorry, but... I don't really believe in reincarnation, if that's what you're talking about."

Sorry, Axel. I -

"Right," Axel says, shoving himself away with laughter spilling out of his lips. His chest feels tight and itchy. "Right. Yeah. That was really weird."

"No, it's cool. I just…that never made much sense to me, you know? Second chances and that kind of stuff." Roxas's strange, blinding honesty is resurfacing once again, and Axel wishes he knew how to stifle it. He's known people who died from that kind of thing.

"I don't know," Roxas says, thoughtful. "Maybe it's too easy."

"Yeah, okay. All right."

It takes no effort at all for Axel to steer the conversation to safer subjects - baseball games and movies and the goddamn weather - and eventually the rain will stop pouring and Roxas will return home.

Eventually, Axel thinks, but that doesn't mean right now.

His fingers brush against Roxas's scraped knuckles as he passes the warm plate over.

X

Roxas leaves and Axel goes back to the kitchen to try to make a dent in the number of dirty dishes piled up in the sink before calling it quits and dragging his backpack over in front of the television. He figures he can finish some homework while watching The Daily Show and keeping one eye on the clock.

It's three AM and he's half-asleep on the couch, some infomercials playing quietly on the flashing screen, when the front door finally creaks open and the scent of stale alcohol floats into the room, followed by breathy giggles and shhh don't wake him up. A set of heavy clunking footsteps follows his mother's into her bedroom.

He keeps his eyes tightly shut.

X

The next morning, a man in a dark, wrinkled suit comes stumbling out of his mother's bedroom, bleary eyed and swearing loudly.

Axel doesn't look up from his bowl of soggy cereal as the stranger digs around in the freezer and pulls out a box of frozen waffles, bumbling around in the kitchen like he has the right to fuck everything up. The cupboard doors are opened and shut with loud bangs and the dishes clatter on the counters, chipping blue and white tiles, cracking pieces off cheap china.

Axel grabs his bag and disappears before the man can ask him where he hid the toaster.

X

"You look happy," Larxene says, passing him a joint. He takes it with a loose, easy smile and nods.

"So, there's this kid," he says, and sucks in a deep drag. Larxene's eyes glitter when he passes it back to her, her bony fingers closing around the joint quickly. She cups it to her face and breathes in deep.

"There's always a fucking kid," she says, her cheeks hollowing as she exhales. "What makes this one so damn special?"

"I don't know. Nothing. He's been my neighbor since fucking forever."

"Uh...oh, hey, you mean the blond one, right? The one you talked to a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah."

Axel closes his eyes and leans out over the low railing of the overpass. He can feel the cars racing underneath him. It's a heady rush - the deafening sound of squealing tires and low decibel engines, people hurrying home. His hair is torn at by the slipstream as he inches further out, his heels lifting off the dusty ground.

"Get back here, dumbass."

Larxene tugs on the collar of his t-shirt until both of his feet are firmly back on concrete, his neck twisting around so he can meet her angry blue eyes. Axel lifts the joint gently away from her fingers and drops it over the edge.

"Fuck!" she says, pushing him aside to snatch it back. The joint sails into the rushing traffic and disappears.

"I need to stop smoking," Axel says. "Lung cancer sucks."

"Great, quit by your own fucking self," Larxene mutters. She slumps back against the fence and glowers, picking at her chipped red nails.

"Hey, listen, you should quit too."

"Yeah? Why the hell would I do that?"

Axel looks at her and her mouth thins; her eyes dart off to one side.

"Fine," she bites out after a few seconds. "We'll both fucking quit and live to be a hundred and twenty years old. Happy now?"

"No," he says, slipping down to sit beside her. "But thank you."

"Yeah, all right. Whatever. God, this is because of that kid, isn't it? The one who makes you smile like a fucking retard all the time?"

"Maybe." He fiddles with a loose thread on his sleeve. "Probably."

"Man, you're so fucked up. Reincarnation is for people in India and losers who obsess over their neighbors. It's for freaks."

"I think maybe this is my second chance."

Larxene looks up at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I don't want to fuck it up."

"Well..." She drops her head on his shoulder and sighs. "Then good luck, I guess. Maybe this time it'll work out okay."

They stay out all night and watch other people drive home in the dark.

X

Sunday arrives like it always does.

"God, clean up your own goddamn mess, you want me to do everything for you?"

His mother throws a plate at the wall and it cracks, splattering pasta sauce everywhere.

Thank god the plate's only plastic, Axel thinks, but the red will be a bitch to clean off the wallpaper tomorrow. Maybe he'll repaint the whole room red and try to convince their landlord that's how the kitchen looked before they bought it.

"Jesus Christ, answer me, dammit!" Her hair falls into snarls across her face, her eyes are dark and narrowed, and, oh, that man must have left without saying goodbye again. None of them stay. Not that he wants them to, but his mother never stops hoping, and the sad look in her eyes is maybe even worse than having assholes around.

"I'm going out, mom."

He ignores her cry of "Get back here!" and slips out the back door, onto the fire escape. The cool night air stings his face and he breathes in deep, lungs burning, and looks up.

Roxas is staring down at him from the ladder.

"Hey," Roxas says, smiling, and his lip is busted up and dripping a line of red down his chin. Axel wants to wipe it away.

"Hey," Axel says. "Want to go someplace?"

Inside, something fragile splinters on the floor and they both flinch instinctively.

"Yeah. I do. I really, really do."

Axel grabs Roxas by his bony wrist and pulls down.

X

There's a small diner a few blocks away so they walk there, kicking at pebbles and pausing at a few harshly lit window displays. Killing time the only way they know how.

Axel points to a few old album covers at a record store and Roxas nods and shrugs and admits to not knowing any of them, which leads to Axel giving a ten minute lecture on 'music-that-will-change-your-life-I-swear' and Roxas struggling not to laugh.

Axel finds himself not minding even though he's talking to a boy who spent his life living under a rock (seriously). Roxas has a nice smile, and it shines under the flickering streetlights, and it feels familiar in a way nothing else in this city does.

"So," Axel says, after they have grabbed a booth in the back of the diner, right next to the bathrooms so no one else will try to sit near them. "I know you don't believe in reincarnation, but what about different worlds? Like, parallel universes and shit?"

A slow smile creeps across Roxas's face and settles there, warm and soft. "What, like, in another world, where you and me are banging the hell out of each other? Because I've heard better pick up lines, Ax. That one kind of flat out sucks."

"No, like, one where we were friends or something. And who the hell tried to pick you up?"

"Shut up." The smile flickers, and Roxas's gaze turns vague as he looks out the grimy window. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't hate you on sight, and usually I can't stand being around other people my age."

"Maybe it's because I'm ridiculously hot."

"Maybe," Roxas says, and grins so Axel knows it's probably not true. "Hey, why are you so stuck on the whole after life thing?"

"I'm not." It's a lie, but they know it, so he hopes it doesn't count.

"Well, pretend for one second that you aren't convinced we knew each other in a past life. Would you still be talking to me now?"

Axel closes his eyes and opens them again.

He sees a small, pale blond boy sitting across from him, nervous and frightened and picking at a spilled sugar packet, and suddenly it becomes hard for him to swallow.

"I would," he says, and Roxas smiles.

X

"So, the kid's not just a kid anymore," Axel says, and Larxene rolls her eyes and punches him in the arm.

"He was never 'just a kid', freakshow. Even I knew that."

"Yeah, but see, I never admitted it to anyone until now."

Larxene looks at him like he's too stupid to live and he kind of agrees.

"So, I was thinking," he says. The teacher drones on, something about integrals, and most of the kids in their class are either sleeping or talking in low voices. Only one kid up front is paying any attention and that's because she's actually planning to go to college. "Maybe I should get a job or something. So I can move out as soon as I'm finished with school."

"Sure, go for it. Better than sticking around at your mom's place."

"Yeah, but..."

But I can't. But it's dangerous. But she could hurt herself.

"Axel."

He looks up, and realizes that Larxene is watching him with more fierce love on her sharp features than he has ever thought possible. It's a little frightening.

"She'll be fine without you," Larxene says.

Axel nods and doodles on his paper and doesn't really believe her.

X

Fire creeps into his dreams, burns his hair and fills his lungs with smoke, and he wakes up with his limbs tangled in his sheets, sweaty and panting and wondering why he just has a dream about a boy who looked like Roxas, only childish and happier and whole.

He sneaks up the fire escape and taps on Roxas's window, feeling a wave of relief when he sees Roxas emerge from the gloom and undo the latch with tired eyes and fumbling fingers. A new bruise is blooming on his thin arm in the shape of five thick fingers.

"Hello," Axel breathes, and reaches out to touch.

Roxas is cold and trembling and painfully real under his fingertips.

Axel kisses him.

X

"I don't know what I'm doing," his mother admits, cupping a mug of coffee. Streaks of dark mascara run down her cheeks like tears. Axel can't remember the last time her face was stripped of make-up. Maybe before his dad left. Maybe before he was born.

"That's okay, mom. I do."

He puts a pot on the stove to boil and starts to make dinner while his mother watches, her bony fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, her eyes wide like she's seeing him for the first time.

The kitchen is quiet and warm and Axel starts to hum a song he heard on the radio on the way to school last week. His mind drifts to fairytale princesses and strange dreams and blue eyes that stay constant throughout everything. He gets the feeling that it will always be that way.

That night, he falls asleep comforted.

X

On the roof of their apartment building after midnight, they are untouchable.

Roxas dangles his feet off of the edge and Axel stands behind him, close enough to see the near-transparent hairs on the back of Roxas's neck ruffled by a night breeze, and he wishes he could change the past so they had met earlier, so they could have started talking earlier, so they hadn't wasted so many years looking down and away when they could have been something.

"I think we should leave," Roxas says suddenly, and twists around so Axel can see how serious his eyes are, even half-hidden by the fall of his hair. "After we graduate, we should get out of here."

Something in Axel's chest wrenches.

His mother is sleeping three floors down, for once home at a reasonable hour. A man hasn't walked into their apartment for the past month and last night, over a sandwich dinner, she had promised to try harder, be somebody he could be proud of, and he had reached over and held her hand and smiled.

"I..." His breath dissipates in a cloud of white and Roxas is watching him carefully, guardedly.

People are too easy to break and Axel is always scared of screwing up.

"Never mind," Roxas mumbles after a while, and starts to turn away.

"How about leaving now?" Axel says. Roxas stares at him in disbelief for a few seconds before nodding jerkily and taking his hand and tugging him down the stairs at a run.

And they're gone.

X

On the highway, in the passenger seat of Roxas's father's car, Axel casts Roxas a glance and feels his heart flip over in his chest, his breath catch in his throat.

Roxas grins and opens the window and shouts, the seventy miles per hour wind tearing his words apart, and Axel laughs and says, "I knew you. I knew you before we first talked and before you first moved in and before you were born."

Roxas turns to him and says, "I know."

Axel's mother will still be at home years from now, sitting at the kitchen table, her hands curled around a chipped blue mug and her eyes glued to the clock as it counts down the seconds passing her by. Roxas's father will still be drinking upstairs, yelling at the TV, casting glances at the door and waiting for his son to walk through it again.

But today, right now, Axel has a tank full of gas and a getaway car and a broken dashboard clock that always reads 8:13.

Roxas is in the seat beside him, and his smile stretches on for miles.

X

(so we'll meet again in the next life, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after - )