Rinse

Rating: M

Summary: In the end, Roxas finds there is no 'cure.'

Pairing: Axel/Roxas, mentioned Sora/Kairi

Warning: AU, self-mutilation, suicide, character death, drug abuse, probable horrible OOCness that many will not agree with, boyxboy love, general DARKness.

A/N: This is a strange project that lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. It is very dark, which is probably because I'm a dark person at heart. This is the first submission that I have to the KH section, but hopefully not my last. I understand that some of the characters here may be considered out of character, and for that I apologize. I wrote them as best as I could in the situation that I had to put them in. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave your comments.

C&C appreciated.

Part One

____

Roxas desperately washed his hands once more. He could feel his breath coming in hard pants as he scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. There was nothing left to wash away, the large amount of hot water and soap saw to that. Still, Roxas scrubbed, washing away the tiny bits of grime that could have possibly gotten into cracks in his hands.

"Roxas, stop."

The voice did little to calm him. He continued to scrub.

"Roxas. The blood isn't coming off."

Roxas could feel tears welling up in his crystal blue eyes, could feel them rolling down his face and dripping into the overflowing sink. The water rushed out over the countertops, running like waterfalls onto the soaked floor. It was tinted red. Roxas wondered if the voice was right, wondered if the blood would ever come out. It seemed as though his hands themselves were bleeding; every time he washed some away, there was more to replace it.

"Roxas!"

"It'll come out!" Roxas screamed back, the sound of his own voice terrified him. It was strained, broken, cracking with effort and emotion. He looked at his hands, soaked in red, and began to sob. There shouldn't be so much red. It should be out by now. It should've washed out…

"Roxas!"

The hand on his shoulder made him scream. He knew who it was, knew who's comforting hand was trying to calm him. Still, the tension in his body shuddered, begging to be released.

He turned then, slowly, feeling his entire body shaking. His bare feet slipped on the bathroom floor; the layer of blond-tinged water on the floor nearly coming up to his ankles. He shook, lifting his eyes from his feet to face a blue gaze so strikingly similar to his own that it nearly made him cry.

"Roxas," the familiar stranger's mouth curled around the words, allowing Roxas to glimpse at the blood cloaking his teeth. Roxas took a deep, shuddering breath, turning his gaze onto the face of his twin brother.

Sora's eyes were sad. They were normally so cheerful; it broke Roxas' heart to see that. Blood ran down the sides of his twin's face as Sora took Roxas' hands in his own. Roxas' hands were dripping with blood again, and it made the boy shudder. The sound of the running tap behind them was abnormally loud in the white bathroom.

"Roxas," Sora said again, repeating his name as though it would cement his brother's attention on him. "Roxas. I'm already dead."

Roxas screamed again, to hear the words spoken aloud was like a bullet in his chest. He gripped his hair tightly, the blood running like rivers from his hair, soaking his clothes, the ground, running down the sides of his face.

Sora smiled at him sadly, before his body crumpled to the floor, falling through the layer of water into a dark abyss below. Roxas let out a shout of surprise, dropping to his knees and pounding on the ground. Nothing but water splashed up at him as he yelled for Sora.

"Give me back my brother!" Roxas screamed, pounding on the water, trying to reach the black abyss that lay just below. It was as though a barrier had separated him from the only person he had truly loved. "Take me instead! Please! Give me back my brother!!"

"Roxas."

Roxas sobbed, not caring about the blood, or the pain in his fist. He continued to hit the barrier, screaming incomprehensible things at the darkness, the void of nothing that had stolen the only person who had ever meant something to him.

"Give him back, damnit!"

You have to wake up, Roxas. It's time to wake up.

"Roxas! Did you hear me?"

Roxas blinked from his daze. He must've dozed off again. Lately it had become more and more difficult to tell the difference between sleeping and awake. He blinked up at his mother, who was turned around in the front seat of the car to look back at him. Roxas figured she might've been pretty once, before the fact that her sons had been suicidal had crippled her spirit. She looked tired, weary, wrinkles pulling at the corners of her eyes, her dirty blonde hair a frizzled mess.

Roxas ignored her in favor of looking out the window. The car was parked, meaning they had arrived at their destination. The school in front of him was a beautiful, large stone building. It was painted white, fresh, with a bold face to the world. It said "Come in, have fun here" to the world. Roxas had figured that his mother would be sending him to a school that looked more like a prison from the description. Sacred Heart School for Troubled Children. Roxas knew he was 'troubled' but didn't appreciate being referred to as a child.

"No," Roxas said, finally responding to his mother's question. He turned his lifeless gaze back towards her, catching the way her lips curled in distaste. She unbuckled herself, stepping out of the car and opening his door. He stepped out, grabbing his suitcase and glancing around. The court-yard was beautiful, roses flowing out of the sides of the roads, large trees, and the sounds of a not-so-far-away river. Roxas had to admit he was impressed.

"I said, this is the finest school money could buy," his mother said, grabbing her purse and locking the car before they approached the school. "They have excellent classes, wonderful teachers, and a counselor on staff all times. Almost everyone who goes to this school is cured."

Roxas despised the word 'cure.' His mother loved to use it, however.

"And the rest commit suicide in their dorms," Roxas mumbled to himself.

They stepped inside, and were greeted by a janitor, who escorted them to the principal's office. The hallways were lined with bright pictures, artwork done by students. The cases were filled with trophies and sculptures, proud projects set up on display. Roxas wrinkled his nose, listening to the echo of his shoes on the linoleum floors. He wondered where the darkness was; this was a school for troubled children. There had to be some sort of dark underbelly to it.

As they turned down another hallway, Roxas caught sight of a young man standing with a large permanent marker, writing frantically on the wall. He was muttering under his breath, writing away with wide eyes, as though the world was falling away from him and he had to finish what he'd started.

"Demyx!" the janitor shouted, causing the boy to look up.

His hair was dirty blonde, his green eyes looking as though the owner of them was lost. Roxas noticed the large blue guitar strapped to his back, his hands streaked with the maker's ink.

"It's all here, man," Demyx said, dropping the marker and spreading his arms wide. "Right here." He tapped his heart, then turned and ran down the hallway, his footsteps sounding like gunshots on the floor. When he turned a corner, Roxas watched as several Orderlies tore down the hallway after him.

"Demyx is a kleptomaniac, and has a serious case of OCD. He claims to have problems with our walls, since they don't reveal enough of what we are," the janitor explained as they continued down the hallway. "Yet I beg to differ. We pride ourselves in showing the student's work, and their progress."

"Oh yes, it's all very lovely," Roxas' mother agreed as they continued towards the principal's office.

They walked down the hallway that Demyx was decorating, allowing Roxas to look at what he had been making. All the pictures had been taken down from the wall, and the entire wall was covered in words, what Roxas realized must've been song lyrics. They all swirled around a huge, intricate drawing of a heart.

"Don't worry, it'll be painted over in a matter of hours," the janitor explained.

"Don't," Roxas said, speaking up for the first time. "It's beautiful."

The adults ignored him as they arrived in the office. They waited for several minutes, listening to the chime of a clock in the crowded waiting room. When they were finally invited inside, the man behind the desk welcomed them, smiling brightly at them.

"Welcome, please sit."

Roxas immediately tuned the man out as his mother talked with him. He looked out towards the window, into the beautiful, albeit overcast, day. It wasn't as though he wished he was there, enjoying the day, he just wished everything would cease. He was tired of dealing with everything.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of your son," the principal said, standing and shaking his mother's hand.

"Thank you," his mother said gratefully, turning towards him and giving Roxas and tight hug, and a kiss.

"I'll come visit," she whispered to him.

Roxas said nothing as his mother departed. He wondered if she was grateful he was gone.

"Now, Roxas," the principal said. He nodded towards the door, where a young, blonde haired girl had slipped in, almost as soundless as the wind. "This is Namine. She's going to be you Campus Buddy. Namine knows this school better than anyone. She'll show you to your room."

Roxas sneered. "What, you're not going to be an honorable host?"

The principal looked up sharply, his crimson gaze settling on Roxas with a fiery intensity. "Don't cause trouble here, boy. We know how to deal with the likes of you."

"What happened to 'we'll take good care of your son'?" Roxas spat, as Namine grabbed his arm, dragging him from the office towards the corridors towards the dorms.

They said nothing to one another for a long time. Roxas dragged his suitcase behind him slowly, eyeing the blonde-haired girl from the corner of his eye. He frowned; unsure if he should trust her or not. Finally resolving that she wasn't going to attack him, he relaxed. They wandered the halls filled with false joy, false light for a long time, until finally Namine turned to look at him.

"So, what've you got?" she asked.

"What?" he replied intelligently.

"What've you got? They wouldn't send you here if you were normal," Namine replied, clasping her hands behind her back as they wandered down the wide hallways. The stone building looked so elegant from the inside, like some ancient castle out of a fantasy novel.

"Clinical depression," Roxas replied, turning to look over at her. "And prone to suicide."

"Have you ever tried?" Namine asked. There wasn't any trepidation in her voice like others that had asked him. He shouldn't expect any less from a girl who went to a troubled school.

"Twice," Roxas replied. "Third time's the charm."

Namime said nothing for a long moment, until she let out a deep gasp of air. 'I've got schizophrenia," she replied simply. "Paranoid Schizophrenia. But I hate that title, so I just say Schizophrenia. It sounds prettier."

Roxas said nothing in response as they approached the dorms. She showed him to his room, handing him the key. She smiled at him, and Roxas couldn't help but smile back a little.

"Come talk to me if you ever need anything. I'm in room B63. You have a roommate, but I don't know if he'd back yet." With a smile and a quick wave, Namine waved at him, skipping down the hallway and disappearing around a corner. Roxas watched her go, wondering if the phantom girl had really been there.

Roxas let out a deep sigh, stepping into the room. One side of the room held an empty bed, stripped of everything but the sheets. The other side held posters of old bands, intricate ornaments on shelves, and a comfortable bed set up with many pillows. Roxas wrinkled his nose at the idea of having a roommate, throwing his things down on his bed, looking at the blankness of his side of the room.

Roxas… Rinse!

Three days later, it was Monday, and his first day of classes. Roxas resisted the temptation not to go. He thought about shutting himself up in his room and simply sleeping the day away. The nightmares had returned, however, which was what propelled him to get up and go to class.

His classes were fine. Namine was in his science class, and surprisingly, Riku, Sora's old friend, was in his Gym class. Riku was an adrenaline junkie who ended up getting himself seriously injured in his quests for the next 'big thing.' Roxas had spent some time talking to him, enjoying the fact that he knew someone in such a twisted school.

He didn't see his roommate all throughout the weekend. Roxas brushed it off, figured he'd probably gone home to his family. However, he realized he was wrong later that night when, as Roxas sat curled under his blanket with a book, a knock came at his door. Slowly rising to his feet, Roxas opened it, revealing two police officers standing with a young man who looked exceedingly pissed off.

"Just returning this lad to his room, sorry to disturb you," one of the police officers said, shoving the youth inside.

"If we have to bring you back here again, Axel, we'll make sure to do in while you're in cuffs," the other officer replied.

"Fuck you too," Axel shot back, slamming the door in their faces, turning his lime green eyes on Roxas. His flaming red hair sat spiked out behind him as the youth placed his hands in his pockets.

"I got a roommate now? Shit, Namine should tell me these things," Axel cursed as the young man turned to his side of the room, collapsing onto his bed.

Roxas realized his eyes were still wide, allowing himself to let out the breath of air he was holding, turning back to his bed. "Yeah, well, if you'd come back once in a while, you might be able to get these sort of messages."

Axel watched as Roxas rolled back into his bed, turning away from him. After a long moment, Axel spoke up, "So, let me guess, you've got some sort of depressive disorder."

"How'd you know?" Roxas replied, sullen, from his spot facing the wall.

"Well, your reserved behavior, and the scars on your arms," Axel replied, falling back onto his own bed and staring up towards the ceiling.

Roxas curled deeper into himself, looking at the scars that crossed back and forth over his arms. Some deep, some not so much. Each one had a story behind it, he knew. Most of the time, Roxas kept them covered. He hated the looks that others shot him when they saw the amount that littered his arms. The worst scar was his brother's name 'Sora' carved into his right arm, block-like letters, each telling a story of morbid affection.

Roxas turned over when the scent of smoke protruded from the air. Axel lay on his back, a marijuana cigarette between his teeth, watching as the smoke rose lazily towards the ceiling. Roxas wrinkled his nose at the sight, but turned his attention to Axel despite himself.

He couldn't help but admire the red hair that spanned out over the pillow. In a morbid way, it reminded him of blood, and of fire.

"What're you here for?" Roxas found himself asking. "Anxiety disorders? Anger Management? Delusions or hallucinations?"

Axel looked over at him and cracked a smile, taking another drag and letting the thick smoke roll out over his lips. "Ah, you forget that Sacred Heart is for more than just the mentally insane."

"Mentally ill," Roxas corrected with a soft frown.

Axel waved him off. "I'm a pyromaniac, and I have trouble with authority, or so they say," he said, getting to his feet and pulling off his sweater. He slumped back onto the bed, offering Roxas the marijuana, which he politely denied. "But I'm here because it kills time. And it's easy to get through high school and finally get out into the real world."

"And what would you do out into the real world?' Roxas asked, watching the smoke filling the room like a toxic poison. He could feel himself getting second-hand stoned, and for some reason was finding himself enjoying it. He was light-headed and beginning to grow very content with everything. It was a strange feeling. He'd never been high before—he had no idea what it felt like.

"I don't know. Find myself a good job. I'm thinking I could be a stunt man or something," Axel replied.

"Stunt men get hurt a lot," Roxas said with a slight smile as he turned to look at Axel's profile. "You think you could do it?"

"Oh yeah," Axel said, holding out his arms, showing the burn scars that traveled all the way up towards his torso. Roxas could make out the marks on his chest, from where his white sleeveless shirt hung loose. Roxas said up in bed, looking over the marks with awe. His gaze flickered up towards Axel's face.

"Self-inflicted?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"All accidents," Axel replied. "I play with fire a lot. So therefore, I get burned a lot." Axel turned over his arms as Roxas stole the marijuana cigarette from him. "All from different occasions, if you'd believe it."

Roxas sucked on the cigarette, coughing out the smoke as he handed it back to Axel. "I believe it," Roxas said quietly.

"Your first experience with drugs?" Axel asked, taking another deep drag and handing it back to him.

"With drugs, no," Roxas replied. "With pot, yes."

"What kind of drugs have you been doing?" Axel asked out of curiosity as they passed the cigarette between them.

"Pill form drugs," Roxas replied, feeling himself drifting away with each drag, watching the thick smoke drift in the air, hanging suspended before dissipating.

"What, so you're into ecstasy, or something?" Axel asked him.

For some reason, Roxas found this incredibly funny. He burst out laughing, placing a hand over his face as he struggled to regain his composure. Axel stared at him as though he were a madman, and for some reason Roxas didn't care. He let that final piece of him go, as he kept laughing, and laughing, and laughing.

Rinse all you want. It's not coming out.

Roxas knew he was late for class. When he'd woken up that morning, he had slept in far later than he'd meant to, and while in the bathroom, had ended up washing his hands for nearly an hour. Finally, when he finally made it to his Math class, he realized he'd missed most of the lecture. He slipped into class with his head held down; the teacher didn't even look at him.

Roxas spotted Axel in the class, and slipped into the empty desk next to him. The teacher was going on about this or that, and Roxas resisted the temptation to sigh. He didn't understand why he came to class in the first place. It was nearly over, he should've just skipped.

"Here," Axel said, sliding a bunch of notes towards him. "It's all the stuff we covered."

Roxas gave him a small smile; surprised that Axel had taken any of it down, let alone was giving it to him. "Thanks," he whispered in reply, quickly scribbling down the notes.

Axel wasn't in any of his other classes, which Roxas was both delighted and disappointed about. He didn't want to see too much of the red-haired man, in fear of getting annoyed with him. If they were going to be roommates, then Roxas didn't want to be unable to tolerate him.

After classes, as Roxas was heading back towards the dorms, Axel grabbed him by the arms, a grin on his lips and a light in his eyes. "Roxas! C'mon!" he cried, dragging him down the hall towards the door. Roxas nearly tripped over his own feet trying to keep up.

"Hey! Axel! What—what's going on!?" Roxas cried as Axel shoved open the doors, dragging him out into the muted light of the overcast sky.

"Wanna get ice cream?" Axel asked him as they hurried down the street towards the end of the drive.

"What?" Roxas shot back.

They turned around a corner as Axel slumped down on a bench set up by the small dirt road that led people towards the school. "It's the bus into town. C'mon, we can go and get some ice cream, my treat." There was a twinkle in his eyes that left Roxas stunned. He'd never known anyone so spontaneous. Despite Sora's own surprises, he was too laid back to do something like this.

"What?" Roxas tried again, wondering if perhaps he said it once more he would understand what was going on.

Axel rolled his eyes. "C'mon Roxas," he drawled, leaning back on the bench, his hands folded behind his head. "We won't get caught. I do this all the time. Look, the bus is coming. Make up your mind!"

Roxas sighed. "I don't have a bus ticket," he admitted, to which Axel waved off.

The bus pulled up in front of them. Axel paid the man for them as the pair slipped into a seat, Roxas' books still clutched tightly in his arms. The ride into town was surprisingly short, lined with large trees with leafy branches that hung down. Once they arrived in a small busy little part of town with many shops set up along a busy road, Axel led him into a small shop that sold sea-salt ice cream.

"This is my favorite place," Axel said as he bought them both a cone. "It's great."

Afterwards, Axel led Roxas up the stairs of the building onto the roof, where the boys could enjoy the evening air and let their legs dangle over the edge. There they munched happily on their ice cream, watching as the town continued to wind down after another busy day.

"You're weird," Roxas finally said, once the ice cream was gone.

"Am I?" Axel laughed. "I like being weird then."

Roxas smiled lightly as he turned his gaze onto the streets once more. People came and went, and from the height they were seated at, it looked like a mini-play set. Each piece had a mind of its own as well as a destination. Roxas liked to sit and watch the world sometimes. It gave him a feeling of peace.

In the crowd, Roxas spotted a familiar face as the person darted through people. A mop of brown hair sat upon a red outfit as the young man dodged through the street. Suddenly, the phantom stopped, his deep cerulean eyes shooting up to the rooftop of the ice cream parlor. Roxas looked at the person, watching a goofy smile cross a familiar face, and then watched as the phantom literally disappeared.

"Sora…" Roxas whispered, his mood plummeting.

"Who's Sora?" Axel suddenly asked, turning to look over at him curiously.

"My twin brother," Roxas replied quietly. "There was… an accident." Roxas let the napkin and the last of his ice cream cone slip through his fingers, drifting to the ground below them. In a sudden bout of insane depression, Roxas thought about jumping. He brushed the thought off quickly; this height wouldn't kill him.

"I wanna go back now," Roxas said quietly.

Rinse, clean, redo. It'll all go away, Roxas. All you have to do is wash the sins away…