Chapter fourteen

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Roxas moans, his eyes opening to a blur and quiet voices that fall silent before his sight clears. He slowly sits up, rubbing his head at the sharp pain in his head and a dull throbbing in the rest of him. He feels a hand rub his back soothingly and the aches dull a bit, becoming more manageable as he looks around and takes in the familiarity of the living room before focusing on his two friends.

"Ugh, What happened? Did I drink too much or something?" He asks groggily. Axel chuckles wryly while Xion shows nothing but worry.

"Not...exactly..." Xion says, looking behind him. Roxas raises a brow before realizing the hand that is on his back is not from either. He whips his head around, eyes bulging when he catches site of familiar blue eyes and brown spikes.

He yelps and jerks back, twisting around on the couch and scooting to give himself some distance as he looks at Sora like he is a spectre. Sora smiles at him, tilting his head slightly.

"We need to stop meeting up like this Roxas," he says, voice sounding almost apologetic. Roxas gives him a look, not understanding what the hell Sora is talking about. He jumps when he feels another hand on his shoulder and meets the worried eyes of his red headed best friend.

"You don't remember anything about what happened?"

Roxas shakes his head, confusion growing as his eyes dart between them. Sora gives him a sympathetic look, by now used to Roxas' memory lapses.

"You almost killed a Mage and Merman; if I hadn't stepped in, you would have."

Roxas' jaw drops and he looks wildly around at the other two, eyes appearing to about fall out of his head as he finally remembers; at least up to the point where he blacked out. He takes a shaky breath and closes his mouth, steeling himself, "tell me what happened..."

.o.o.o.0.0.0.o.0.0.0.o.o.o.

Demyx and Zexion teleport to the the base of Organization Thirteen, gasping with each jostle of their wounds as they try to hold each other up. Larxene takes that moment to greet them, he lips curved smugly as she crosses her arms.

"So," she says, "I take it that the little mission didn't go so well?"

Zexion glares up at her from his slouched position, Demyx not even having the energy to look up and instead focusing on keeping the two from collapsing. Larxene tsks and looks down her nose at them, here voice becoming exasperated.

"Did you at least find out anything useful?"

Zexion grimaces, "actually, we found out something very interesting. If you give us some time to recover, we can inform you along with the others."

"The Superior doesn't have time to recover," Larxene growls, "he wants info now, if you don't at least tell me the important stuff, you'll find your asses on the receiving end of Xemnas' lasers for withholding information."

"Grr...very well," Zexion snaps, leaning Demyx and himself up against the wall, "it seems that number Eight and Thirteen are traitors to us-"

Larxene scoffs, "we already knew that, Xemnas was just waiting for the right time to nail their asses to the wall. We have a new unofficial member anyways, so get to the important part."

"Death's Left Hand has returned," Zexion finishes gravely.

Larxene blanches, "she's back? But I thought-"

"No, she herself is still dead," Zexion interrupts, "but I believe she might have involved herself with someone...someone of equal power to her...and has created a male offspring before her passing."

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