Axel lived with his father, a tall man named Auron who'd adopted both Axel and his sister, leaving their older brother at the orphanage because Reno had been too old, almost seventeen, and with total disregard for any rules set forth. Axel and Kairi were only ten and eight, and Auron had been willing to allow the two children to keep in contact with their older brother by providing visits every holiday.

When Axel was barely fourteen, he met Demyx.

Demyx was a practical polar opposite of Axel. Where Axel had vivid red hair that was cropped and stuck every-which-way, a long nose, pointed chin and angry emerald eyes, Demyx's hair hung down in his face and curled under his chin and around the nape of his neck, his baby blue eyes were kind and his face was cherubic. Demyx had towered over Axel at the time, having been a good three or four inches taller. They'd started off their friendship a bit unsteadily- but had become close after time had passed. From the age of fifteen to sixteen, Axel had hit such a growth spurt that he'd shot up in height to stand a good fair amount of inches over Demyx ad even his own father, an intimidating number of 6'4".

On his sixteenth birthday, after much prying from Demyx the week before about whether Axel had gotten his first kiss or not, (to which Axel had denied, stating he didn't have time for girls) Demyx had ignored their audience of Auron, Kairi and a few friends that Axel had accumulated over time, and had laid a full kiss right on Axel's lips- complete with his hands engulfing the redhead’s thin face and his eyes closed. Axel hadn't expected the startled flutter of his heart or the way his body seemed to cease movement, eyes wide in disbelief.

Xigbar released a retching sound and Demyx stepped away from Axel.

That had been the day that the redheaded teen had made a startling realization.

Over the course of their sophomore and junior year, Axel had fallen in love with his best friend. He'd yearned for Demyx's embrace, to feel the soft touch of his lips again, like so long before. He couldn't keep his eyes off of the way Demyx moved, the way he sang and how he laughed. He was entranced, and Axel was nearly positive that there was no way out of the proverbial pit that he’d dug himself into.

That is…until Zexion had moved in and Roxas came along.

It had all seemed to have happened in one fell swoop, to be honest. That morning, Demyx had parked himself down in his usual spot beside Axel; cerulean eyes alit with an emotion not often found on anyone’s features, let alone Demyx’s. Axel had leveled his companion with an odd look that silently demanded his unasked questions to be answered. Demyx had run his hands through his messily concocted Mohawk (which had been shaved into such over the summer) and had said to his red-haired companion with an excited grin that his family had new neighbors and that one of them was a cute sophomore named Zexion who's hair was even prettier than Axel's.

Axel had instantly gotten defensive, opening his mouth to blurt out that Demyx shouldn't act like such a girl, but he'd stopped whenever the classroom door had opened.

In fact, everything seemed to have gone silent as the newcomer walked in, gaze down and fingers clutching to a checker-patterned strap of his messenger bag, what was obviously a school schedule, held in thin fingers. His pants sagged off of narrow hips, the ends tattered and hanging around checkered sneakers. His shirt was a red long sleeve, that same squared pattern spreading over the chest and arms, drawing Axel's attention to the faintly breathing chest, and then to the soft chin and pouted lips. Axel dragged his eyes up, enraptured with thick eyelashes and golden hair that framed a porcelain face. It was like all those years before, and Axel couldn't stop the surprised skip of his heart whenever the newcomer lifted heavy lashes to look at Axel with an empty steel blue gaze.

Axel’s mind instantly labeled him as the Checkered Shirt Boy.

For a few weeks, Axel paid a little less attention to Demyx’s mindless chatter, and a little more to the Checkered Shirt Boy, who sat quietly in the back of the class with his head on his arms and his eyes always drooping, lips down-turned in a permanent scowl. Axel observed how the boy would always be clumsy in the way that he pulled out his textbook, or how he only did work in class whenever their teacher would approach him and draw attention to the blond – as if he refused to get anything other than the passing glance. His shoes were always the same, always tapping a mindless tune whenever he became absorbed into his work, and always toeing the edge of the skateboard that he had begun to bring with him after the first few days of school.

Gradually, Axel started to notice him in other places besides their World Religions class. He saw shocks of blond hair and checkered squares amidst the chaos of the lunch room, when he and Demyx wandered the halls before the morning bell, or when they drove out of the school parking lot. (Axel had spotted the boy skating down the street with his head barely paying any mind to the flurry of traffic that surrounded him.)

Demyx seemed to notice Axel’s diminishing obsession with him, also. He may have been somewhat absorbed into his own relations involving Zexion (who now joined them at lunch and hitched a ride to and from school every day) but he wasn’t so much blind as to the redhead’s lingering gaze on the enigma that sat in their Religions class, or the way that Axel no longer gave Demyx lasting touches of the hand or the odd brush of finger as they were walking. He noticed that Axel no longer wore as much of the color blue as he used to, and how Axel’s music had reverted away from Demyx’s favorite band and back to the variety that the redhead had so often listened to the year before.

Demyx may have been blond, but he was far from an idiot. Axel had some sort of infatuation harbored for the Checkered boy, and Demyx refused to let it go un-acknowledged. It was barely into the middle of September whenever Demyx’s patience had snapped.

In the midst of a silent study session, Demyx snapped his book shut and stood, approaching Checkered Shirt Boy’s desk and sitting down in the seat just in front. The other blond had slowly lifted his head, from where it was resting on folded arms, a look of mild curiosity dotting those normally apathetic eyes. His lips parted, but no words came out. Demyx grinned back, reaching out his hand, only to have it shoved to the side by Axel. The redhead’s face hid panic and a nervous smile, his lanky hand stretching out to Roxas.

“The name’s Axel, but you can call me the Axenator.” Axel drawled out, surprising Demyx with his cocky tone of voice. “You can be one of my henchmen, but this is Demyx, he’s the second in command. Think you’re up to it?”

An awkward silence descended upon them- one filled with a suffocating anticipation- before the Checkered Shirt Boy quirked his lips and shrugged a thin shoulder.

Axel’s face lit up with a grin and he shoved Demyx out of the desk in front of their new companion, earning a squawk of indignation from the exuberant blond as Axel leaned onto the Checkered Shirt Boy’s desk.

“So, what’s your name, eh?”

“Roxas…” Axel’s eyebrows quirked, because the voice that spoke to them was a soft one, filled with some kind of inner-defeat that had the redhead’s mind reeling. It was a sweet voice -- obviously male – but it held something in it that was just… off. Axel grinned nonetheless.

“I think we’re gonna be great friends.”

Axel’s words seemed to have sealed their fate, because the trio became close in a near-instant. Axel had exchanged numbers with Roxas, as if his entire goal was to coax the introverted teen out of his proverbial shell of misery. Axel hadn’t expected Roxas to open up so readily to him, especially the night that he’d gotten a distressed phone call as Roxas blurted out how his mother had struck him because he’d broken a porcelain bowl while doing the dishes, and she’d called him a series of cruel names. Axel had tried to coax Roxas into explaining the situation, telling him that abusive parents were not something that Roxas should be hiding, but Roxas had vehemently stated that they were going through a financial crisis and that ‘she just can’t cope with stuff very well and I know that she hits me because grampa hit her when she was little, and it’s just a subconscious thing because she grew up like that and it’s not her fault, it’s mine.’

Axel had remained silent, opting to let Roxas pour out his troubles to the redhead – who sat at home, clutching tightly to his pale red quilt and wishing he could do something better than just listen.

Time had passed; Axel had taken Roxas out of his house as much as he could whenever he didn’t have to work. Roxas opened up more and more, and Axel felt like he was falling for the blond fast, too fast for him to even comprehend what was going to happen.

It was the nineteenth of February, Roxas had told Axel about how his birthday was on the twentieth. Axel had planned on asking Roxas if the blond would like to go with Axel to the park, where they could ice-skate for a few hours before heading back to Axel’s house. It was the redhead’s best idea of a date that wasn’t overly romantic, but would let Roxas know that Axel cared about him in a way that was more than just friendly.

Axel had uttered to Demyx that he wasn’t sure if Roxas knew how to ice skate, and his best friend eagerly replied that he’d ask. They ignored their teacher whenever the man called out a question, and Demyx reached out to tug on the familiar checkered-sleeve of Roxas’ obviously favorite shirt at the same time that the younger blond raised his hand.

Time stood still in Axel’s mind as the sleeve gave way to reveal a pale expanse of intricate and grotesque scars; scars that looked like the ones that used to cover his mother’s body before she committed suicide whenever he and Kairi were still just children. Axel’s breathing stopped altogether, his heart clenching so painfully in his chest with panic and fear that even his fingertips ached with the need for oxygen. He ran his eyes along those hideous markings, some old and some new, eyes burning with memories, burning with a bubbling terror that Roxas was going to end up just like his own mother.

Roxas’ arm slowly came back down, drawing itself into the boy’s frail and barely-moving chest. “Roxas…” Their teacher was the first to speak, and his voice came out as such a croak that the man had to clear his throat before continuing softly. “Come up here please.”

Whenever their friend didn’t move, Demyx gently placed a hand to Roxas’ shoulder, murmuring the blond’s name and gearing no form of response. Roxas held eyes filled with a hurricane of emotions, eyes quickly turning red at the edges and taking on a watery look. Axel did the first thing he could think of, getting out of his seat and walking to the front of the blond’s desk. He had to get some form of reaction – Axel feared his own life depended just on that.

“Hey man. Roxas…” No response, he grasped tightly to the smaller boy’s shoulders. “Roxas listen to me, look at me.” He pleaded. Those blank blue eyes turned away from Axel’s penetrating stare, down casting as the blond ducked his head. Axel felt a part of him wrench, his jaw clenching and a low breath escaping his nose as their teacher softly called for Roxas again. It seemed as if the boy was going to remain comatose- until Roxas pushed Axel’s hands off of him in a quick shove, standing on his feet.

Roxas- who looked now like a child who’s greatest punishment was about to be served – approached their teacher’s desk slowly, feet scuffling on the ground. He reached mid-way point before freezing in place, fingertips twitching and apparently deaf to the sounds of his name being chanted by the teacher. Instead, the blond whirled around and bolted, rushing past Demyx and narrowly escaping Axel’s hand that grabbed for him.

Axel tripped over himself in his exuberance, cursing and jumping to his feet as their teacher picked up his phone to contact an administrator. The man yelled at Axel to sit back down, but was ignored as the lanky redhead shot out of the classroom, slamming the door behind himself. He could see that ever-so-familiar mixture of blond hair, checkers, and tattered jeans, and darted after the boy. “Roxas! Roxas stop!” He shouted, though his attempts were futile. The chase continued until Roxas stumbled out the front doors, nearly keeling over, hands on his knees and body heaving for breath. Axel hurriedly ran over, opening the door and slowing himself to a walk when Roxas whirled around.

The look in the blond’s eyes reminded Axel of a skittish deer, wide and filled with an indecisive panic. He moved slowly, holding out a hand in a sign of peace. Roxas took a single step back, spun on his heel, and took off for the football field.

Memories hit him again, of his mother’s dead body lying in the kitchen, face down in her own blood that had once leaked from her mutilated arms. He refused to let anyone he cared about be hurt again – he refused to let Roxas suffer, even if it required forcing the blond to listen to him. Roxas’ stride was getting slower, his knees seeming to buckle just a fraction with each stride the blond took.

They barely reached the entrance to the field when Axel’s fingertips brushed Roxas’ right forearm and grabbed a hold of the blond’s un-injured arm, wrenching Roxas back towards himself. It seemed like Roxas was a scared animal, instantly wrenching his arm towards himself in a panicked attempt at escape. Axel did nothing more than increase the ferocity of his grip, generating a wince from the blond boy. Roxas’ attempt was weak, and his voice was even weaker as he gasped out, “Let me go.” Axel could not stop the way his stomach and chest tightened, watching Roxas attempt to make another step in the direction of the bleachers.

“No.” He replied firmly, in hopes that Roxas would finally calm himself down enough to listen to logic. However, it seemed as if the blond tensed up instead, his injured arm spinning from out of nowhere to punch Axel across the face. The action sent him reeling back with enough surprise to let go of Roxas, who instantly took off again.

Up the bleachers they ran, and to Axel's horror, Roxas made it to the announcer's box, whipping the door open and then slamming it behind himself a second before Axel reached it. Unable to stop himself, Axel thudded against the heavy surface with a 'whumph'. He paused for a possible split second in order to regain his scattered equilibrium, hands curling into fists and pounding an uneven rhythm against the door.

"Roxas! Roxas, open the door!"

There was silence on the other end, and Axel leaned his entire body into the door, his heart throbbing unhealthily against his ribcage as the redhead began to take in panicked breaths and his eyes stung with unshed tears.

Nine years ago, Axel and Kairi had gotten off of their elementary school bus and began taking the moderately long walk down the road to their home. Kairi's small hand was clasped in his own, and Axel had pushed open the door to their home to catch a whiff of something vile, dropping his sister's hand to cover his mouth. Kairi started retching, and Axel had quickly told her to stand outside and not to talk to anyone. Axel had wandered through the house, his muffled voice calling out for his mother, until he stumbled into his mom's room to see her body on the floor, arms gouged wide open from something unnatural and red liquid pooling all around her. A horrid, gut-wrenching scent of coppery blood and musk wafted from the center of the room, so strong that it nearly suffocated the small eight year old.

To this day, Axel didn't remember much past the white haze and his own screaming, until Reno had run into the room and taken Axel into his arms, cradling his little brother and carrying him away from the grotesque scene.

Axel was torn from his memories when there was a loud click and the echo of feedback from the megaphone. He didn't stop hitting the door, even as Roxas' broken voice began to speak.

"I'm sorry Axel. You won't... have to worry about me at all. I'm nobody... and tell my parents I'd rather be cremated. I think... its better that way." Though Axel knew it was Roxas that spoke – he barely recognized that broken whisper – and he felt all of his energy leave him like sand slipping through weak fingers. His knees buckled, hands stilling and the sound of a group of teachers and administrators running along the football field. Everything hit Axel with a sudden force and his energy returned with twice the ferocity. He stepped back from the door, gathering his wits about him just long enough to lunge forward, his entire body colliding with the door loudly, pain flaring in his shoulder and arm.

“Roxas! Roxas I swear to God- open the door!” He screamed, feeling a tear inside of his throat, a sure sign that his voice would go raw soon. “Please, just open the door! Please, Roxas! Don’t do this! Don’t hurt yourself because you’re hurting us too!” His arms swung down, hitting the door with all the energy left inside of him as the teachers started to crowd around him. He felt Demyx place a hand on his shoulder, but shoved the blond boy back with a rough push, his fists connecting with the door again.

The microphone made another feedback echo as it hit the ground.

“Please, Roxas, stop this! Please, please let me in!” Axel’s voice cracked towards the end of his pleads, his knuckles raw and bleeding as pain fired down each finger. His pinky finger no longer worked properly, and he was leaving red smears along the door from his fists. One of the administrators – a larger man who was even taller than Axel – grabbed onto his wrists, holding Axel back from hitting the door again.

Axel snarled, kicking his legs out and hitting one of his teachers on accident as he writhed and jerked his body to get out of the man’s grasp. “Let go of me!” He snapped, ignoring how badly his teachers attempted to calm him down, while a few of them went back to trying to coax Roxas out. There was a moment of utter silence before Roxas’ agonized scream crackled over the loudspeaker, deafening everyone and sending a terrorized chill throughout Axel’s very bones. His breath escaped him, knees buckling. The administrator released him and Axel would have fallen completely to the stairs had Demyx not caught him up in comforting arms, running his hands through Axel’s carmine locks of hair.

After what seemed like an eternity, Roxas fell silent, not even releasing a single breath that was audible over the mic. The teachers crowded up around the door again, placing aged hands on the doorknob and jiggling it to and fro. One of the administrators was on a walkie-talkie, beckoning for a janitor to hurry to the announcer’s pit with keys. Axel picked his head up from Demyx’s shoulder, pushing his friend back and standing. He stared at long, painted glass window that sealed up the pit, and he curled his bloodied fingers into fists.

Ignoring the hands grasping at him, Axel leapt over two sets of aluminum seats, vaulting himself into the air with his arms crossed over his head as he made a desperate leap at the glass. There was a thud, followed by a loud crack, and then glass exploded everywhere as Axel hit the ground inside of the pit and rolled up against the wall. He held back a pained grunt, eyes snapping wide and darting everywhere until they landed on Roxas’ immobile body. He knew he’d been crying, and his eyes burned all the more when they took in the sight of Roxas sitting limply under the desk, his arms sagged at his side and blood cascading down pale arms, pooling in his hand and dripping between each finger.

Axel scrambled towards the blond, his arms grabbing at a weakly protesting Roxas and pulling him into a tight embrace. Roxas’ head thudded lifelessly against Axel’s shoulder, soft-spoken protests escaping the blond and trembling, blood-coated fingers attempting to pry Axel off of him.

Memories struck Axel again, and he tightened his hold on Roxas – terrified that if he let go, the blond would die even faster than he already was.

“Don’t do this Roxas.” He breathed out into golden curls of hair. “Please, don’t do this to me.” It was nearly a desperate moan that escaped him, and Axel moved to drag Roxas out from beneath the desk, gathering the smaller boy into his arms and grunting with exertion as he stood. He tucked Roxas’ legs around his hips, one hand supporting Roxas’ behind, the other cupping his back. He stepped towards the locked door, where all of the teachers were yelling at Axel and at Roxas to come out, and Demyx was already trying to climb in through the broken window -- before an administrator tugged him away from it. He shifted his arms, unlocking the door and opening it. Teachers, Demyx, and a handful of kids from their class that Roxas knew, stood there.

Roxas weakly lifted his head up to observe everyone’s worried stares, but limply dropped it to Axel’s shoulder a second afterward. Axel could feel Roxas’ shallow breaths against his chest, each one becoming more of a struggle than the last. The school’s nurse placed a hand to Axel’s shoulder, muttering softly into his ear. “The ambulance is on his way, we’ll take him from here.” As she spoke, the same man that had held Axel back earlier, slipped his hands around Roxas’ chest and tugged him out of the redhead’s arms. Axel barely had time to react, feeling a horrible pain inside of his chest that spread through his fingers and gut as the blond was taken from him.

Roxas seemed to be comatose, not even reacting as Axel grabbed the man’s arm, blurting out. “Please, you have to let me come, you have to. I can tell the medics plenty of stuff about him before his parents show up.” Axel tightened his grip on the man’s arm, drowning out the voices of Demyx, Hayner, Pence and Olette, who kept trying to wake Roxas up by softly asking him if he was okay, and so forth.

An ambulance was wailing in the background, horn blaring as it grew louder and louder. Axel couldn’t keep his eyes off of the administrator’s face until the man caved, nodding once and turning away from Axel. The redhead hopped down the steps, tripping over himself in an attempt to keep up with the older man, his eyes trained on the trail of blood that seemed to follow their movements. The ambulance pulled into the parking lot just beside the field, and paramedics rushed out, two of them retrieving a gurney and the other one hurrying out to the field. They reached the bottom of the bleachers as the paramedic reached them, his hands flying to check Roxas’ pulse via the blond’s limp neck.

“He’s losing it, get over here, now!” The man snapped to his fellow paramedics. He pulled some sort of pack from his side, procuring a breathing mask that he strapped over Roxas’ mouth as the gurney was rushed over. “Hang on there kid.” He lifted his head. “Does anyone know his blood type?”

Axel recalled, months ago, when, after visiting the blood mobile, Roxas had randomly informed Axel that he’d gone for years without even knowing that his blood type was O positive. Though it was a flippant remark, Axel cherished that information more than anything. He stepped forward, attempting to keep his gaze away from Roxas’ paling body. “Its O-positive, sir.” He said softly, and the paramedic looked up at him as they strapped Roxas down, mask in place and a blanket being thrown over the blond’s body.

“Get in the back with us.” He said, motioning to the ambulance as they started to pull Roxas back to the wailing vehicle. Axel ran up beside the gurney, catching sight of barely-squinted azure blue. He slipped his hand into Roxas’, ignoring the sticky blood that instantly covered his fingers.

"Hang in there, Roxas." He pleaded. Roxas seemed to purse his lips for a second, before his eyes fell shut and his head went limp, lolling to the side.

The gurney was lifted up into the ambulance, and Axel directed a final glance to Demyx, who looked on worriedly from where he stood inside a group of teachers and students, before the doors shut and the truck jerked to life. Axel was directed to sit down on a small seat beside the gurney. He did so, clutching to Roxas' limp hand. The paramedics motioned for Axel to relent his grip, and he did, knowing that it was the same one that held the source of all this hysteria. Two of them pulled out roll after roll of medical tape after tugging on latex gloves while the third procured a heart monitor and pulled Roxas' shirt up and off to reveal thick scars on the blond's hip that dissappeared into his pantline. Axel watched them silently begin to bandage up Roxas' bloody arm as the heart monitor beeped to life - giving way to a struggling heartbeat.

Axel couldn't keep his eyes off of Roxas' pale face, the way his thick eyelashes settled unevenly against his cheeks and how his hair seemed to hang lifelessly in his eyes.

Roxas had to live, because Axel hadn't fallen for anyone as fast and as hard as he had for the smaller boy.