#my wrists and hands have been pretty achy and stiff the past few days but owwwwwww everything hurts now :(

[iamsweden]

All of my bones hurt :(

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 16--Unlucky

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Unlucky.”  A routine case with a vengeful patient leaves Demyx with more than he bargained for.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It had been kind of a long day. Drizzly, but in a vague sort of way, as though the sky couldn’t make up its mind. Demyx only had one call left before shift change, and a last-minute one; a woman had badly cut her hand by the marketplace and needed help. It would be a quick fix, at least, before he could go home and collapse into bed.

The population around here was getting to be more dense, though it still paled in comparison to many of the cities he’d visited. A few people he’d healed greeted him. He still struggled to remember all their names.

The woman was waiting by her front door, her face ashen and drawn. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her hand, and it was soaked through in places. “Good, you’re here,” she said.

“Ouch, what’d you do?”

“Trying to do some slice and dice on some vegetables… and, well…” she shrugged. She was youngish, maybe thirty or so. Her apron had splotches of blood on it.

“It happens more than you think.” He smiled. “I can fix it. Why don’t you sit down?”

She sat on her stoop. He could barely see the inside of the small home, the onions and tomatoes sitting on a now-dirty cutting board. A bloody knife. A kettle had been put up, but was not yet boiling.

Demyx sat next to her. “How’s the pain?”

“It stings more than anything. The peppers, you know.” She bit her lip.

Before unwrapping it, he gave a quick scan of the wound, and cast a spell to coagulate the blood. He set the bloody towel aside. It was a clean cut, but one that probably would’ve had trouble healing on its own. He cleaned it quickly. She hadn’t even lost much blood, and it was shallow enough that it wouldn’t scar with a spell. He had it fixed in five minutes. The woman flexed her hand.

“You’re all set,” he said. “Just try to be careful next time, okay?”

“Oh, before you go. I was about to make some tea. Would you like some?”

Demyx hesitated. “That’s really nice of you, but I should let you get back to your dinner--”

“I insist.” She smiled widely, revealing straight, even teeth. “It’s the perfect kind of day for it.”

“Uh… sure. Thanks.”

She went back inside and came back a moment later with two mugs. “It’s a special blend. I made it myself.”

“Oh, are you a botanist?”

She laughed superficially. “You could say that.”

Demyx sipped at the tea. It was incredibly bitter, and he tried not to flinch. “The taste really is… unique.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.” She didn’t sip at her tea immediately.

“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“I guess, in a sense. I just moved back in a few weeks ago. This was my sister’s house, but she… well.” The woman sighed. “She fell to darkness some years ago.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m getting along just fine on my own.”

He drank the tea probably too quickly, eager to get rid of the sour taste. “That’s good. I’ve noticed the people here are really friendly. You’re in good company.”

“I’m sure I am.” He wondered if he was imagining the dark undertone of her voice. She had been talking about her dead sister, after all. “We seem to be pretty welcoming to just about everyone.”

“Yeah… I really like it.” He tried to smile. “Thanks again for the refreshment. I’ll see you around.” Demyx realized he hadn’t even asked her name, but when he turned back to fix this, she had gone inside and shut the door. He brushed off the weirdness as a lack of social skills and started the long walk back.

It did seem much longer than usual. His calf muscles were getting tighter as he climbed the shallow incline, even though he usually took it a few times a day. Demyx attributed it to exhaustion, the weather. Once he was on the flat surface of the postern it didn’t fade, however, and in face the ache seemed to be creeping steadily upwards. He tried to think about what it might be. Potassium deficiency? Dehydration? He’d probably feel better with water and rest.

He kept making his way upstairs. The cramping was getting worse, more uncomfortable, almost painful now. Had he burnt out again? That had felt kind of similar. It would figure. Broken bones and pneumonia were high-cost heals, and he’d had a couple. He started to dig in his kit for an ether, found half of one, and had just brought the bottle to  his mouth when a sharp pang in his chest made him double in two. The bottle fell to the ground and shattered, spilling the shiny green liquid all over the floor. “Shit.” He rubbed at the pain, trying to get it to ease enough to stand. A hot burning sensation replaced the pain, and his vision seemed to shimmer.

It wasn’t--no--

Demyx dug out his gummiphone and dialed Even.

His voice was sharp and snippy. “Boy, I’m in the middle of something. What do you want?”

“I think I’ve been poisoned.”

---

Demyx couldn’t make it as far as the lab. His muscles were too tight, and painful, and he sat propped against a wall waiting for help. He dug through his bag with shaking, achy fingers to see if he had any antidote, but he’d used his last on a kid who’d accidentally swallowed cleaning products. He had to wait and hope he could make it until help came.

At least it was fairly quick. “What on earth did you do to yourself?” Dilan asked sourly.

“Not me,” he hissed through his teeth. He could feel sweat coursing down his face.

“Can you walk at all?”

“Hurts too much.”

Dilan hefted him up like a baby. Being moved hurt worse than the stillness, and for a moment he thought he might faint. “You’re much lighter than you look.”

He tried to keep breathing. His head was swimming too much to try and figure out what had been done to him, and why. Even was smart. Even could handle it.

“So what is this? An accident? A cruel prank?”

“Don’t know.”

“We’re almost there.”

Time seemed to stretch, elongate…

“Demyx, try to stay awake.”

“Sorry.”

There were so many damn hallways in this place.

“Here. Set him over here.” Even’s voice, high and stressed.

“He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness.”

A sharp stab of cool fluid into his arm. Demyx’s eyes fluttered open. He could just barely feel the canvas of a cot under all the pain.

“There you are,” Even said. Another pinprick, this one in his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Hurts.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, I’m hesitant to give you anything while we’re trying to get you to metabolize this nasty business. I’m going to take some blood, alright? Let’s see if I can’t figure out what this is. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep a steady antidote drip.”

“Okay.” The words would’ve meant more to him if he could focus. His muscles were stiff, tight, and burning. Demyx wasn’t sure to be glad or not he was conscious. He shivered, hard enough that Even had trouble getting blood. Even tucked a scratchy wool blanket around him.

"I should tell Ienzo."

"No," he hissed. "No, I'll do it after."

"You're very ill. You'll probably be very ill for the next few days."

The generic antidote was making him more lucid, but it also made him more aware of the pain, insidious and awful. "That bad?"

"I'm still doing research. But you're lucky you recognized it and got to me when you did."

Through a sort of haze Demyx watched Even at work at the nearby table, watching him pipette blood and examine it under a microscope.

Time was moving weirdly. It could've been ten minutes or two hours. The pain eased in the slightest. He was desperately tired, and desperately thirsty, despite the fluids he was taking. "Even?"

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Will I die if I go to sleep?"

He smiled sadly. "No, you're rebounding enough. Get some rest. You'll need it."

Demyx slipped in and out, never quite getting all the way asleep…

"It was quite alarming to see. I haven't yet gotten the story. I think you may be right, Dilan. Someone clearly has ire for us."

Demyx blinked. Something cold wormed under the skin of his hand. "What…"

Even patted his wrist. "A more specific antidote. Go back to sleep."

"What was it?"

Even frowned. He sat on an upturned crate next to the cot. "A type of neurotoxin that causes your cells to stop accepting water. Essentially, it would've been a very quick, very painful death from dehydration. Not to worry, I've made a serum which seems to be combatting it. Your vitals are already stabilizing."

Demyx considered the irony of this. "She must've known."

Even's eyebrows furrowed. "Who?'

"The person who did this." He tried to sit up, or at least prop himself up, but his muscles were horrifically sore. “About my old powers—”

"Don't move," Even said gently. "I figured you, of all people, would understand this part of palliative care."

The joke didn't phase him. "Why else would she use a poison to dry me out?"

"Who?"

"The woman, the one who--" Hot nausea brought tears to his eyes. "I'm going to throw up."

Dutifully, Even handed him a pail to be sick into. This dealt with, he tried to focus.

"She gave me tea. After I healed her. I thought the cut was too clean, that she acted weird--"

Even sighed. "You gave her the benefit of the doubt. As any competent physician would." He paused. "Do you remember where she lived? We should let the committee know. The last thing we need is another maniac on the loose."

Demyx swallowed the taste of bile. He told Even what he remembered, but this exhausted him into a stupor. Even gave him another dose of the real antidote. He drifted off and woke suddenly, disoriented, is his own bed. There was still an IV in his hand. His head was pounding in time with his heart, an insistent thud like a metronome, and his stomach was sour. The blackout curtains of the room had been drawn, leaving it blessedly dark and cool.

In the semidarkness, he did not quite realize that there were other people in the apartment with him. The lamp by the couch was on, and it was here Even and Ienzo sat, mumbling to one another too softly for him to make out. Demyx felt horrifically thirsty, and despite all the time that had passed and all the fluids he’d taken he still didn’t feel the need to use the bathroom. He wondered if the poison had done more damage to him than he’d thought, that it had fucked with his kidneys, and if he should say something.

One thing at a time. Worry about sitting up first.

A sharp, splitting pain in his ab muscles nearly made him gasp out loud, but he managed it at last, treading dizziness. His skin was tacky with dried sweat.

The muffled conversation abruptly stopped. Ienzo stood and all but ran over to him. “You scared a few years off my life. Easily,” he said. He pulled Demyx into a gentle embrace, and if he hadn’t been so dehydrated he probably would’ve cried. Demyx couldn’t help but lean into the comfort. Too soon, Ienzo broke away and touched his face. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, wonderful,” he said hoarsely. “I could run a marathon.”

A twitchy, anxious smile broke the tension in his brows. “Are you still symptomatic?”

“Well I feel like roadkill. Like a hangover times one thousand. But the worst of the pain seems to have stopped.”

“Good.”

Even gently steered Ienzo out of the way and took Demyx’s pulse. “Aerith appraised you when you were unconscious,” he told him. “You should be alright, more or less, so long as we keep your electrolytes up to snuff. The antidote seems to have worked before the poison caused lasting damage. I’ve made more, in case our little friend decides to strike again.”

“I’m still so thirsty.”

“I’m sure it must feel that way. You’re getting more than enough fluids.”

Ienzo turned towards the window, peeking through the curtain at the moonlit night. His arms were crossed and he clutched his elbow so tightly Demyx could see the knuckles were white. He wanted to console him, but considering his brain felt like it had been microwaved all he could focus on was how shitty he felt. “Can I change clothes?” Demyx asked Even. “Maybe take a bath? I feel gross.”

Even raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel up to it?” he asked. “You should really rest first.”

“I’ll feel better. There could still be vestiges of the poison in my sweat. Which I’m kind of covered in.”

“That’s a fair point. Ienzo?”

He jerked, as though startled.

Even squinted at him. “Could you help him? I’m sure he’d prefer you over me.”

“Yes. Of course,” he said stiffly.

Standing was treacherous, and he had to lean heavily against Ienzo. In the privacy of the bathroom he let Demyx undress, his back turned as if they didn’t see one another naked on a regular basis. Demyx hung the IV fluid on a rack normally devoted to towels and settled in the warm water. “Well, this is humiliating,” he said slowly.

Ienzo sat on the covered toilet. “I’m sure.”

“I feel like an invalid.”

“You’re very, very weak.” He sighed. “While you were resting, I studied that compound. Things could’ve been so much worse, Demyx.” His voice trembled in the slightest. “It could’ve caused irreparable, irreversible damage to your brain. You could’ve had memory loss, or been paralyzed-- why are you laughing?”

The deadly anger of his tone sobered what little humor Demyx had found. “I can deal with memory loss.”

Ienzo paled, his anger dissolving. “Yes… that was… tactless of me.” A pause. “You could’ve lost so much, aside from your life. Motor skills… the ability to speak…”

“Motor skills?” He looked at his wet palms, which trembled faintly. He hoped it was from anxiety and nothing deeper. Aerith would’ve said something, right? “You mean I couldn’t play Arpeggio?”

“Amongst other things.”

He’d been too sick to realize it. He could handle the thought of death, even being disabled, because there was nothing wrong with not being able to walk or talk. Whatever would have happened, he could handle and adjust. But losing Arpeggio? Again? He felt wetness in his eyes and tried to blink it back.

“This is probably traumatizing,” Ienzo said softly. He took Demyx’s hand.

“Probably? You think?”

“I hope this is an anomaly, a lone act of cruelty. The committee is opening an investigation. Once you’re well, they want to question you.” He slumped a bit, as though his body weighed too much. “I am… furious. Even if this is revenge against the apprentices, there was no reason for you to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Unless she knew about me being in the Organization.”

“That is… possible, yes. Even so. It would’ve made far more sense for her to target one of us.”

“I interact with people more. Maybe she was trying to send a message.” His stomach was feeling a little worse, and he settled more deeply into the tub.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I had hoped Dilan was wrong, about the townspeople harboring grudges against us. I was naive.”

“You were hopeful.”

Ienzo looked up. There were tears in his eyes.

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with our pasts. Maybe she’s just crazy and wanted to hurt someone.”

“Maybe,” he said, though Demyx could tell he didn’t believe it. “Is it helping? The bath?”

“It feels good. I’m so sore.”

“You probably shouldn’t stay in too long. I’d feel much better if you were back in bed. I should probably change the sheets, in case you were right about it being in your sweat.” He stood. “I’ll do that now. If you need me, shout.”

Taking a bath wore him out. Once he had actually brushed his teeth and gotten dressed again, he fell asleep for an indeterminable length of time. When he woke up, he was still achy, still thirsty, but a little bit less so. He kept down tea and a bowl of rice, was able to get to the bathroom on his own. It was a small victory.

Aeleus visited him. After all this time they weren’t very close, but Demyx appreciated the gesture regardless. “I’ve made you some bone broth soup. It’ll help get your strength back.”

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

He sat in the chair at the bedside. Ansem had taken Ienzo out for lunch, though he didn’t know that Demyx asked him to do this. Ienzo needed air, some time to decompress. “How do you feel?”

“Much better,” Demyx admitted. “I’m getting there. Slowly. I can’t wait to get this thing out of my hand.”

“You gave Ienzo quite a fright.”

“I think it hit him harder than it hit me, to be honest.” Demyx bit his lip. “To a degree I think he thinks it’s his fault. That the woman was really after one of you, that this was some sort of revenge. It’s probably triggering him. That’s why I wanted him to talk to Ansem.”

Aeleus nodded sagely. “You know him well.”

Demyx laughed a little. “Well--I hope so. He’s hard to figure out, but I’m getting better at it.”

“You’ve become very considerate. Compared to then.”

He scratched the back of his neck with his untethered hand. His hair was a mess, but he saw no point in making it look good today. “I’ve worked really hard on that. The way I… used to talk to the others, makes me… ugh, cringe.” He bit his lip. “You want to know something really horrible? When Demyx heard about you guys at CO getting killed, he was happy. As much as a Nobody could feel, anyway.”

Aeleus’s expression barely changed. “You had to develop a sense of empathy from scratch. I, too, hardened my heart. So to speak. It was the only way to get through.”

“I already asked Even and Dilan. But how did you end up with Ansem?”

Aeleus thought about this for a few minutes. “We can say it was… progress for progress’s sake,” he said slowly. “I was young, I was idealistic. I’d heard that Ansem was pushing the boundaries of what could be, and I… feeling somewhat stuck in a rut… craved that change.”

“Did you feel trapped in Radiant Garden?”

“I believe I did. To hear him speak of other worlds, of other cultures was… intoxicating. It changed absolutely everything. Now I try my best to not be jaded. This place… I hope to nurture it.”

Demyx understood. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job.”

---

He slept again, deeply, and woke up disoriented a little after noon. He felt weird, and it took him a minute to process that he only felt that way because he wasn’t thirsty. Demyx waited for Even’s confirmation, but getting rid of the IV made him feel a million times better. He was able to at least rest on the couch now instead of in bed.

Aerith came by with Leon. She confirmed that the poison was gone from his system, but that he should still rest for another few days, at least until the fatigue dissipated. She made them tea and, exam and pleasantries over, they set to business.

Demyx told Leon everything he remembered, every detail to how she looked and acted, to how the tea tasted, where she lived. He’d told Even all this in a sort of fugue state. Giving the report made him feel vaguely nauseous.

“We’ve investigated the leads,” Leon said. “It’s so weird. When Yuffie went to that home, there was nobody there. There was no sign it was even inhabited. We’ve asked around, and nobody’s seen this person in days. We’re thinking she came over with one of the last Traverse Town flights. Without a name, and without records… she’ll be hard to catch.”

Demyx bit his lip. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Leon sighed. “Yeah, us too. And we’ve let everyone know--not that it was you, but that someone had been poisoned, and not to accept anything from strangers or what seems or tastes suspicious. The restaurant owners are all pissed at me, but I don’t do this to be liked.”

“Even has samples of my blood and the poison. If that helps.”

Aerith’s eyes brightened. “You know, it might,” she said. “Maybe if I can figure out where it came from, we can find out more about the person who did this.”

“I’d say you guys in particular need to be extra careful,” Leon said. “In case this was targeting you specifically.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Do you think it is? Has anyone ever, like, mentioned anything about us?”

Leon tapped his fingers against his notepad. “Not that I can recall. I sent Yuffie out to do some recon. She’s good with people. If there’s anything to be found, she’ll find it.”

“And at least we have and can make more of the antidote, should someone need it,” Aerith said. “It’s good you were able to recognize it for what it was.”

“I kind of have you to thank for that. That, and years of getting bitten by asshole Heartless.”

Leon smiled. “We’ll call you if we need more information. Though this brings up an important point. We need to know who lives here. What they’re doing here. Town is growing so fast. We’ve been so focused on the literal infrastructure that I nearly forgot there needs to be other infrastructure too.”

“Oh, bureaucracy.” He tried not to flinch.

“Sort of. We should start a basic census, at least.” He thought about this for a moment, tapping a pen against his chin. “Well, I hope you have a quick recovery.”

Aerith gave him a hug. “Be well.”

---

It took him about ten days before he was feeling normal. It definitely felt like he’d been really sick for a long time. He’d lost weight, and ended up having to buy a belt because nothing fit right anymore. He hoped to gain a few kilos and get back into shape. Demyx was sure if he tried to do magic right now it would wipe him out, or worse.

One of these days he and Ienzo took a walk into town to get some groceries. At first, a flutter of anxiety crept under his skin, because even though Leon said they kept his identity hidden in terms of the poisoning, he feared everyone would know. But they were treated more or less normally.

“I figured I’d use this time as an excuse to bake more,” Ienzo said. “If you need to gain weight, that’s a good way to do it.”

“I won’t say no.”

“I know you won’t. I do enjoy it.” He stood to Demyx’s left, so he has trouble reading Ienzo’s expression. He swore he heard some artificiality in it.

“Can you make macarons? The last time you did I swear I met god.”

“To be fair. We’d just smoked marijuana. That does affect taste. ...And any supposed divine revelation.”

“Even so.”

“That was a good night. We should do it again when you’re well.”

A blush crept into his cheeks. “Yes.” They hadn’t had sex in nearly two weeks; maybe if he wasn’t exhausted when they got home Ienzo might want to.

“Do you feel up to taking the long way home?”

“I think so. I’m not that tired yet.” The early morning air was fresh and cool, and he drank it in gratefully. Even with open windows, the air inside could only feel so clean. “I’ve missed being outside.”

“You’ve dealt with all this beautifully.”

“No point being weak and also miserable.”

“I suppose.”

Demyx looked back towards him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why is it you ask?”

“I wanted to make sure.”

He sighed. “Admittedly, it did dredge up some negative memories,” he said. “You and I… have a complicated history of collapsing on one another.”

“We have the combined constitution of a wet tissue.”

He chuckled. “As well as luck that is both terrible and great.” A pause. Demyx let him take his time. “I know it’s not my fault, but I do feel… guilty. If this is a targeted attack, who knows what else might happen should someone with a grudge seek revenge?”

“I really hope it isn’t that.”

“I do too--” Ienzo’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I swear I saw someone--maybe I’m paranoid.”

“Might be a Heartless.”

“Are you strong enough to fight one?”

“Maybe a Shadow--probably not much more. Maybe we should turn back towards where there are more claymores.” A seed of dread started to grow in his stomach.

“Yes. I agree.”

They walked back along the blue stone that bordered the edge of town. Ienzo kept looking over his shoulder; Demyx couldn’t help but do the same. They heard rock scrabbling. “We’re definitely being followed by something,” Demyx said, as softly as he could.

“What should we do?”

“Try and act natural until we get somewhere safer.”

Ienzo squeezed his hand more tightly than he normally did. “I’ve got a pocket knife. But I don’t think that will be much use. And my magic is still very limited.”

“Well, we’ll see. Might want to dust off that strategizing part of your brain.”

There was a quiet thud behind them. Demyx turned, tense, ready to draw the Keyblade.

The figure wore a cloak. Not an Organization cloak, a regular, run-of-the-mill cloak. It was brown.

But Demyx, after years of recon, didn’t need to see a person’s face to recognize them. The height, shoulders, and general bearing were enough. He exhaled and put a hand on his hip. “What are you doing here?”

The figure, craving anonymity, said nothing.

Ienzo squinted, confused.

“You trying to finish the job, or what?” Demyx asked.

The figure flicked back their hood and scowled.

“For the record, poisoning a healer isn’t the best way to go. We tend to be pretty resilient. You should’ve just stabbed me.”

The woman’s face was flushed red with anger. “You weren’t supposed to survive.”

“Yeah, that’s how assassination works.”

Demyx turned back to Ienzo. He was frozen; he looked like he’d been struck. Demyx wondered briefly if he’d been hit by a Stop spell, but he was still blinking, and his hands were shaking. More obvious than anything, though, was the flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Little Ienzo,” she said coolly. “Though--not so small now, are you?”

Demyx tried to think. “Who--” he began, but the woman cut him off.

“Go on, tell him,” she said.

He shuddered, then said, “One of the test subjects. One of the victims. She and her sister.”

“But she’s human,” Demyx said. The conversation he’d had with her previously clicked. “Or--”

“Not all of the people who were exploited fell to darkness. In the--the early days.” He steeled himself. “Regardless of how you feel. Take out your anger on me, not on those around me.”

“I think you were the most disturbing one,” the woman continued. “Of all the scientists. What did they do to you, to get you to act the way they did? And why are you reopening old wounds?”

“I want to help people heal from what I did. The darkness hurt me too.”

She took a step forward. Demyx tried to shove Ienzo behind him instinctively. “Not everybody wants to forgive and forget,” she said.

“More people do than don’t,” Demyx cut in. “And how is trying to kill us solving anything?”

To his surprise, he felt Ienzo taking shelter behind him; he was confused for just a second before he felt Ienzo pressing the gummiphone into his back.

The woman scowled. “He’s got you under his spell too, I see.”

Demyx rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if you want to manipulate me, you’re going to have to be a lot more clever than that.”

Ienzo pressed his palm once again against Demyx’s back. The message was clear; stall.  

“What did you think any of this would achieve?” Demyx asked. His heart was hammering, but he tried to maintain a sculpted look of boredom. “So you kill me. What would your next move have been? Infiltrating the castle? Trying to off us one by one? And then what? Regardless, you’d get caught. We work with the committee. They’d notice if we were gone.”

She seemed thrown by this. Behind the bravado, he noticed something like pain.

He sighed. “Look. I get it. I do. I know how it feels to be violated, and then to be so angry, so desperate, so hurt you’ll do anything to make it better. But you don’t have to do it this way. If you want, we can… I can help you.”

She clenched her fists. “You’d help the person who tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Honor code, right?” he held up his hand, and then wondered if this was overkill.

For a moment she said and did nothing, her expression blank. Her hands opened, relaxed. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Someone would be here soon.

With a flash, almost faster than he could really perceive, he saw the knife, but before he could duck or draw the Keyblade Ienzo threw him down and caught the knife right against his shoulder. In the space of about two seconds, Demyx smashed the hilt of the Keyblade against her temple, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He turned back to Ienzo. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Demyx hissed. “Lay down.”

He was breathing heavily, a fine film of sweat all along his face. “Feels mostly like she hit bone,” Ienzo said through his teeth.

“That’s for me to decide.” He ripped off his sweatshirt and packed it around the wound.

“Don’t do magic. Help is coming.”

“Let me at least check to see if it hit an artery.” The bleeding wasn’t visibly too much, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It could all be internal.

“You’ll hurt yourself--”

“Shut up. You just got fucking stabbed.” He tried to find the energy for a spell. It didn’t seem to want to come. He pulled hard, pulled deep within himself, and immediately felt his body start to protest. He gagged.

“Demyx--”

“No. I’ve got this.”

“Demyx, I’m fine. Really.”

He applied pressure to Ienzo’s wound. He texted Aerith, in case she wasn’t already on the way. “You still with me?”

“I don’t even feel dizzy.”

“Don’t lie.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “If you die I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I’m not going to die.” The way he was breathing seemed to betray that. “I’m not finished with you yet.” His eyes rolled a little bit.

“Ienzo.”

“Still here.”

“Don’t shut your eyes.” He had to try again. Demyx pulled harder, tried to find the magic. Blackness swam over him for a minute.

He heard their footsteps before things could get bleaker. He wasn’t sure if it was from trying to use power, or from panic, but things seemed off, his ears ringing. Aerith crouched to heal the wound, Leon crouched to accost the woman. A small, dusty smelling hand patted his cheek. “Come on, kiddo,” said the voice. Yuffie’s face barely slid into focus.

“I’m five years older than you,” he mumbled, and fainted.

He came to about fifteen seconds later when she tipped an ether into his mouth. He drank it all down, flinching at the oily taste. He turned to Ienzo and Aerith--he was pale, his eyes closed--and a strangled sound caught in his throat.

“He’s alive,” Aerith assured him quickly. “He’s alive. He’s asleep. He’s going to be fine.”

“Oh fuck,” he said to the ground. “Fucking--”

“What a day, huh,” Yuffie said dryly.

---

“I do believe Aerith’s instructions were that both of us were to rest. I also believe I don’t need any more pillows. Nor do I need them fluffed.”

Demyx took a step back. Other than being a little pale, Ienzo seemed completely back to himself.

“You’re doing it again,” he said drolly, and took another drink of the blood replacement potion.

“Doing what?”

“Taking care of me instead of yourself. Come to bed. Lie with me.”

Demyx did so.

Ienzo slid his shirt down his shoulder. “See? I don’t even have a scar. So before you exert yourself wittering over me--”

“You took a fucking knife for me.”

He put a finger over his lips. “Which was a calculated risk I knew probably wouldn’t kill me. In the moment, I admit, I was more concerned about your wellbeing than mine--”

“Probably?”

“Demyx. Breathe.”

He tried to listen.

“I’ve seen too many people die this way.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” Ienzo pulled him close.

He cried for a long time.

“I know you want to protect me,” Ienzo continued. “I think it would be easier, and more productive, if we agreed to protect each other instead. Can you agree to that?” He brushed a tear from Demyx’s eye.

“Yes.”