AN: Eek. Welcome back everyone. Or rather, I'm welcomed to be back. Ready for chapter fourteen? Finally? Good, me too. This is the calmest chapter for a while. There's going to be a lot of craziness here in the near future. Prepare yourselves! Again, thank you to all my reviewers, especially these new ones I still seem to be getting! You guys are amazing! I'd almost given up and then I go to my email once and see how many people have favorited/reviewed/followed this baby. Guys, seriously? I almost cried. Life isn't going so well and as far from according to plan as it could get right now. So to see that I still have people that love my one true talent... yeah. Thank you so much everyone! :') Here you go~

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Wax and Wane

Roxas stared down at his hands, which cradled the ever-so-significant vial of blood that hung from the cord around his neck. He had gotten dressed that morning, not being able to stand one more day in hospital clothes. His uniform felt bigger, heavier. When Axel came by that morning, in some strange state of shock and depression for some reason, he had been pleased to see Roxas in red and black once more. It showed recovery. And yeah, Roxas was moving about now, taking walks around the base, but he had a sinking feeling inside.

Something wasn't right.

He felt healthy, but not whole as he was before his collapse. It felt like something was slowly but steadily draining away from deep inside him, a siphoning of his very life force. Frightened, he didn't dare tell Axel. The redhead already had enough on his mind. He had been talking a lot about Reno and that new friend of his- Demyx. So Roxas resolved to keep his worries to himself. Even when he stood up once that morning and felt the whole world tilting and spinning around him. Shocked and feeling a bit of terror run through him, he'd immediately sat back down and was reluctant to try getting up again. But he had to.

He steeled himself as best he could and looked forward, talking to Axel sometimes and to Vexen at others, wondering about revealing to the doctor everything that was going on now. His strength seemed like a fading dream, but one that he tried to cling to nonetheless. The scariest thing of all about it, though, was a random thought that hit him near noon that day…

I don't want to disappear.

He'd blinked then almost started sobbing. Because that's exactly what this was beginning to feel like- as if he was slowly fading out of existence, disappearing from the world. Even Axel wasn't looking at him as much now- was looking through him. But why? Why was this happening? He worried himself into exhaustion but could not for the life of him sleep.

The sicker Sora grew, the better Roxas became, and vice versa. It was like a cycling, parasitic relationship that no one was able to see because of the differing allegiances and locations. If all parties involved were to gather, surely they would understand at least a little of what was happening, but no. Because they were cruel to each other, prejudice against one another, there was no getting together. Or so Roxas thought. That was until he woke up after finally drifting off that evening to find that Axel was scooping him up into his arms.

"Axel, what the hell are you doing?! Put me down!" Roxas yowled groggily, attempting to roll out of the redhead's grip, but Axel held tight and kept moving in a swift, silent manner that was too much like the Turks'. Roxas took in his expression and abruptly cut off his own protests, feeling dread because of the serious, grim look on his friend's face. Eyebrows were pinched together and angling downward in the center angrily, lips drawn into a heavy flat line, and a jaw clenched so tight Roxas was waiting for it to crack at any second.

"Where are we going?" the blonde ventured at last, patting the older soldier's shoulder in a signal to be let down. Axel actually obeyed this time and set him on his feet. Skeptically, Roxas tilted his head at the hesitated silence that began to draw out, "Axel? Where?"

"West."

Muscles bristled suddenly, and Roxas's spine went rod-straight, his crossed arms tightening over his chest painfully.

"What?" he whispered breathlessly, looking up into his years-old friend's shocking poison eyes.

Those eyes met his finally, locking on and burning a path straight from Roxas's retinas, all the way down into his heart. He couldn't be serious, Roxas told himself, but the look in Axel's eyes said otherwise.

"We're going West. Not permanently. I just need to visit."

"Visit who?" the laugh Roxas attempted cracked miserably and did nothing other than making him sound hysterical.

"Demyx."

"Demyx? Who is that?" Roxas demanded, beginning to feel the burn of anger. What the hell had Axel been doing while the blonde was in a coma?

"A friend I made. He was visiting here, and I only found out when he left that he is from the West. He's amazing, Roxas. Everything about him is just… I can't explain it. He's perfect."

"Oh wonderful. You're in love with a Church-lover."

Axel reeled back at the title, and a fierce scowl took over his features. The redhead turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, "Think what you will, Roxas. But I'm going to find Demyx. You can come with me, or you can stay here. Either way, I'm going."

"He better be pretty gods damned special," Roxas grumbled, following after his friend despite the gnawing sensation around the edges of his heart. It's not that he had something against the Church. The only reason he was against them is because he wasn't with them. No, he had something against how Axel was now acting. Like a lovesick warrior going to search for his damsel in distress.

Axel led them down into the hangar where all the vehicles at this base were located. The North Branch hangar was about twice as large as the other branches', mainly because they used a lot more equipment than any of the other branches. Moving past all the strange-looking machinery with tracks and wheels, Axel picked out one of the smaller desert-traversing vehicles; a sand spitter. It was about the size of a queen size bed, only double the length. It was set on four wheels, which had track inserts that could be used, and appeared to be topless except for a single strip of metal that went from front end to back in an upward arc. The arc had strange, narrow cones sticking out from it, with little wiry attachments wrapped just under a ball at the end of the cones.

On the back there was a large gun set into the metal of the rear, and a seat that was facing back so that threats from behind could be eliminated. The front in looked almost like a bike in its shape. It was made for a motorist to straddle metal while leaning forward and gripping the steering handles. There was an open bar down the side diagonal from the handlebars, where the motorists' feet were supposed to settle. There, almost hidden in the corner between the bar and the body of the spitter, was the tiniest pedals.

Roxas just stared at the vehicle for a moment. He had never ridden on one before. Really, he's never even seen one before. These were a newer breed of vehicles that incorporated physics and natural magik beyond Roxas's imagination. Axel had no such thoughts, and moved forward without hesitation, throwing his leg up over the side so that he was straddling the front, his feet not yet resting in the bars. He raised an eyebrow at the blonde, who startled and hurried to climb into the back.

"Okay," Axel murmured, playing with the control board that surrounded the handlebars, "let's see if I can remember this."

Roxas could hear the beep and fizz of many buttons, and twisted around nervously, wanting to make sure the older soldier was doing everything right, but the engine started before he could open his mouth.

"Got it!" the redhead crowed, pumping a fist in victory. His booted heel raised up and slammed down on the tiny pedal.

With a sound like a butterfly tearing out of its old cocoon and shaking its new wings, malleable magik glass shot out from the arc of metal overhead, going in either direction to form a glass dome that completely enclosed the vehicle. Axel was grinning, and flicked a switch somewhere among the sea of switches on the left side of the command board. Roxas had to jump back, spine ramming into the butt of the machine gun, when a wall of metal and glass shot up to separate him from Axel.

"It's alright, buddy. That's just to separate our supplies of air. Because soldiers drive in these for days upon days, there's a special system that pumps drugs and fresh oxygen into the front. I could stay awake for a week on this kind of shit. Know what I mean?"

He didn't, but he wasn't about to say so. Roxas nodded mutely, scrambling back to the seat he had been sitting in before. He now had a square metal door to lean against. Axel revved the engine, which had begun to sputter. Roxas leaned and peered curiously to see what the man was doing. A hand went to the right side of the control board, flicking switches and pressing buttons that lit up and darkening others in a flurry of motion so fast that Roxas's baby blue eyes couldn't keep up. His head spun, until he saw Axel's hand approach a suspicious-looking lever. The biggest lever on the front of the thing. It was at the top left hand corner of the command board, and was painted bright, highlighter yellow. Around it there was red paint, and bold black words scribbled in that Roxas couldn't quite see because of the distance and the shimmery mirage the glass cast on everything around him.

He realized what it said after Axel cranked the lever up and pushed it deep into its slot, though.

CAUTION: ELECTRICITY

By cranking the lever, Axel unleashed the magik that was stored in a crystal tank inside the Sand Spitter. Blinding yellow lightning hissed and sprang from receptor to receptor (from cone to cone), until a faint layer of lightning was laying on top of the glass and around the body. The electricity shone blue around the wheels, and licked around the hard, metallic rubber hungrily.

Axel grinned and finally revved the engine to its full potential, switching the vehicle into gear and taking off.

Not long into the drive- about the time that they were hitting the desert, Roxas began to feel even more drained and weak. He drifted in and out of consciousness, barely able to respond when Axel talked to him. It took Axel about three or four hours, when they were pretty deep into the desert, to notice something was off. He immediately slowed the vehicle and skidded to a though, switching off the glass barrier. Lightning and magik receded back into metal and the tall form was abruptly right beside Roxas, pulling him up from where he had slumped against the side of the machine gun. Concerned eyes danced around his face as frantic hands checked his forehead, pulse, and breathing.

"Roxas, are you with me man?"

The teenager tried to turn his head away, words coming more quietly than he wanted when he said, "Yeah. Why'd we stop?"

"Shit, Rox, you're freezing! And your heart is too slow!"

Axel quickly stripped off his uniform jacket and threw it around the blonde's shoulders. Then he just stood there a moment, as if he truly had no idea what to do. The lost, torn expression on his face stabbed straight to Roxas's heart. His best friend was torn between him and Demyx.

"Let's keep going."

At Axel's shocked expression, Roxas gave a tired smile, "It won't matter where I am, Axel. Better there than back in that base."

Even more worry wrote itself across the redhead's face but the soldier nodded and got back up front, starting up the vehicle and revving the engine painfully, letting the Spitter shoot forward even faster than before. He was rushing now. Roxas wasn't sure whether that would matter. He was fading fast. He coughed violently for a moment, raising the back of his hand to his mouth and bringing it away when he felt something wet against his skin. Scarlet spray covered the pale skin and Roxas let his head roll back so that he could stare hazily up at the sky through the glass and electricity. He was so tired.

With every minute that passed his mind went more and more groggy, to the point that he felt like he was floating through the desert. He didn't even feel the metal or hear the hum and hiss of the Spitter under and around him. He just saw the sky- cloudless and such a pale blue it was almost a golden-white, searing through him and carrying him shallowly just above the ground. Fluttering shut, his eyes still held their image through the darkness. For a while he could still hear. The sounds of the desert passing started to sound like shores of the ocean licking at sand, greeting him with their gentle sways. He wanted to see the sea. He wanted to wade out in the waters, where there was no care about the Military or the Church or death or the future. There was just that moment, trapped between trillions of beads of water conglomerating into one careless, joyful body. Roxas was lost in those waters.

†

Voices surrounded him- a crowd of murmurs whispered straight into his ears, but there were so many that he couldn't really focus on any single one of them. Their combined attack caused a singular, rumbling voice that spoke in an alien language. His eyebrows tightened and there were several hushes before the murmurs finally fell silent. He was glad. He had been beginning to get a headache.

"Sora?" asked a wavering, somewhat familiar voice. It was male, but the tone it was spoken in was breaking with hope and fear.

He struggled to open his eyes, swallowing the thickness in his throat and ignoring the barren, aching feeling in his stomach. Yet his heart was beating, pulsing away with light and every-building life. He felt stronger and more aware with every passing second. Finally, after a few more seconds, he managed to blink his eyes open.

He awakened to a world that looked too bright. He winced, trying to put his palms over his eyes but a pair of hands caught them. Squinting, he looked up into emotional aqua eyes and the stiff face they were set in. Stiff but beautiful and pale. Silver hair fell to tickle Sora's face with their edges.

"…Riku? What happened?"

The Guardian took a fast, shallow breath of relief and closed his eyes for a long moment before meeting Sora's once more, "Do you remember the attack? You held up the barrier for almost an entire day, Sora."

The brunette's eyebrows furrowed further and he tried to think but it all came up blank. The last thing he remembered was… was…

His face in the dirt, praying to all that was holy to protect his people. The Gods' cruel response to abandon them.

Sora blinked. And then the memories came rushing back, "What happened after I passed out? Are all the Knights okay?"

"Yeah, Sora, everyone's fine. What soldiers survived retreated. Everything's going to be alright."

He must have realized that Sora was panicking because he laid a careful hand on his shoulder. Sora tried to relax, but motioned for Riku to help him sit up. He and Riku were alone for now, but Riku told him everyone else was worried and many people had been coming in and out the past few hours.

"Hours? How long was I out?"

Riku hesitated, "Almost three days. You've been getting better but just now pushed through. It took you awhile to heal. Understandable. Speaking of which, how are you feeling?"

"Better and better," Sora smiled truthfully and basked in the relief that Riku showed, "were you really worried, Riku?"

And then the Guardian did something Sora would never have expected. He smiled softly and leaned forward, pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around the Angel. Sora froze for just a moment before his eyes drifted shut.

Riku's lips were surprisingly soft, with just a hint of roughness and dryness underneath. Still, shocks ran through Sora from the contact, and he felt his own hands coming up to pull the older boy closer to him. He wanted to drown in the love and warmth resonating from the man. For just a moment, at least, the darkness had drawn back completely, leaving a silvery light inside that Sora could almost taste.

What seemed like too soon, Riku drew back and held Sora's face in his hands, those aqua eyes searching the brunette's features and were apparently appeased by what he saw.

"Never again," Riku said, "I'll never leave your side again. I promise. No matter what happens, I'll be right there beside you. I love you Sora, and not even the Gods could pull me away from you."

"I'm glad," Sora grinned, pulling Riku onto the bed so he could rest in his arms, "because I love you too, and wouldn't have it any other way."

Silence went on for a while, but neither of them minded. They bathed in the feel of each other- light and dark side by side. Forever.

Then there was a strange twinge in Sora's heart and he looked around with confusion.

"What?" Riku asked worriedly, seeing the strange expression.

"Something's happening. I think… someone's here?"

The last word barely left his mouth before the clunking sound of Zexion's awkward sprint was heard. The door flew open and the Guardian practically collapsed against the doorway, panting.

"Hurry- someone's injured! Demyx and Aerith went on ahead."

"Who is it?" Riku asked, swinging himself off the bed, immediately alert.

Sora looked at him and their eyes met. The Angel's lip twisted and fear and worry rattled through his chest,

"Roxas."

AN: The end! For now! As a last note I wanted to let you all know that I'm putting the results of those scene requests up at the top of the next chapter. So if you usually skip the mopey, grateful AN's at the beginning, might want to pause and take a look at the next. Thanks you guys! Review please! Even though I know you probably hate my cliffhangers by now!