Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 297: Catch The Imposter

“What do you want?”

    What did she want? I wanted to go home, back to the castle with Roxas and Axel.
… but the castle wasn’t home. Not for Xion. How can anywhere be a home for someone who wasn’t real? The worlds were cruel, unfair, and with a horrible sense of humor.
I miss them, Axel and Roxas.  I miss simple missions, and simple tasks. Eternal sunsets and salty but sweet ice cream and no constant fear.
Even if Saix is always a jerk without reason. Okay without a good reason. 

More than anything she did not want to have to choose. Choose between fading away and killing my best friend? That wasn’t a choice! That Wasn’t Fair! I want to live. I want to live!
“I want  to be able to choose to live!”Xion's eyes snapped wide, staring at Riku in horror. She had not meant to say it out loud. 

 “Xion!?” oh no. Her boys came barreling around the corner, weapons drawn. Roxas’s face was somewhere between Elated confusion and blood curdling rage.
The natural result of having no information, but being excited to find his friend, even if they were in perceived danger.
Very real danger, if not from the perceived threat. Axel, oh Axel, for a man who insisted he had no heart you could see it breaking in his eyes. 

Her chest tightening, Xion’s breath came in short and short gasps. Rikku leapt forth sparks flying as enchanted steel collided. 
“XION!” Someone, maybe everyone, called her name. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. She ran.
   

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Turning on her heel she shredded her way into the dark corridors. Her brute forced, not-quite-right portal brought her to the top of a clock tower. A bright moon high above. She’s been here with Riku once, under the night sky. Somehow the wrong tower made everything worse. 
So she kept running. 

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 A new rift and a wide open area surrounded by a fence. A large structure in the middle that looked half brand new and half rusted antique. People even smaller than her, children, stopped their activities to stare. One poor boy took a tether ball to the face. Someone with a hunched back ran off, calling for Ms. something or other.  Xion did not hear, already through another rift.

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On and on she ran. Through one hap hazard corridor after another as if death herself rode her heels. A bright valley filled with ancient temples carved from stone and covered with vine and moss. Startled tigers in the forms of men snarled in shock. By the time the tigermen understood what they had seen she had already sprinted into the Deep Jungle and through another rift. 

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A loud city, full of life. Cars and smoke and grease clung to the air. Each breath sticks to the inside of her lungs. Somewhere a dog and cat were singing just barely heard of the symphony of horns voices. 

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 Xion deftly dodged around a spool of thread equal to most men. Never wondering if she was simply equal to a spool. Stumbling through a pair of mice, and through her next rift. A startled “Bianca” her only sign of passing. 

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Battle raged. Men, women, and robots clad in green and white traded fire with an endless army of Yellow robots. One of the Hornets was right in front of the rift as it tore open. A spattering of laser fire was met with Firaga. Xion was gone, and no one noticed one more slagged bot.

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Laughter and song washed through stone streets. Puzzles and stalls attended by peoples in bright colors and brighter acts. An absolute barrage of sounds and sights being touted as “Topsy Turvy Day”.  A day where black coats stand out as not standing out. Gone in a flash.

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Fear, pain, and desperation drove her ever onward. A frenzied primal urge Hoping that, if she could run far enough, fast enough, when it stopped her problems will have been left behind somewhere. Distant and forgettable. I don’t want this! I don’t want to die!

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WHY!? Why do we have to pay? Why do Roxas and I have to choose to die? Further and further. A highway stretching off into the dark. Once great structures crumbled to ruin and dust.

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Dark woods and white horses with horns. A red Dragon flying above. Faster and faster.

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 Metal and sea salt. An island of steel filled with peoples of all shapes and sizes. Calls for racers and fighters. Lungs burning.Tears falling like rain. 

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 Sweet music, and romantic light. Dogs sharing pasta dinner. It hurt, everything hurt. 

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Darkness stretching on forever. Long winding trails with no purposes. Light that was not light, coming from nowhere and everywhere. Sounds and cries echoing forever. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t seem through the tears. Something caught her shoulder, a voice she couldn’t make out. Light. “Leave me ALONE!” 
 
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 Whoever, whatever, came through the rift with her. A quick shove and a scream. 
Her Coat tore as the two split. Xion didn’t look back. Shrugging the Coat off she tore a new rift at the end of the walkway. Charging across the wooden boards, past the yellow plane, back into the dark. 

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She couldn’t feel her legs. run
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The tears wouldn’t stop. Run
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More worlds. Breathing hurt. Run.
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More Lights. Moving hurt. Run!
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Everything hurt. RUN!
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Every other thought faded away.
All that was left was the pain, and the need.
RUN!
8
Lungs heaved.
5
Sweat Dripped
2
Until she could go no further. 
Rain, thick and heavy. 
A broad wooden door, swinging open as she tore through the world's border.

 Xion smacked into the door with a slick smack.
She would run no further.
Slipping into a blackness even the Darkness could not reach.
Sleep so exhausted not even memory or dream would interrupt. 

Day One: Found

 “Blank, y’all have a good reason for lugging an unconscious, topless, young lass into my theater?” 

“Of course we do! Tell her Marcus.”

“Yeah we hav- hey wait a minute. Why me? Boss, you tell ‘er. You're the one who knocked the kid out!”

“Marcus, careful how you say things. Ruby, no Ruby listen, it’s not what it sounds like…. I suppose that’s what someone would say if it was what it sounded like isn't it?”

Chapter Text

This was a deep pain. Injuries from missions usually cleared up in a day, often less with magic. Xion tried to move, to think, but all was consumed but pain and fog.Somewhere someone was singing. A voice she did not recognize was in the room soothing lulling her back to sleep.

It became a pattern that day. Waking to pain and fog, only to fade back to a deep sleep. The singing never changed.

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Later, when told they found her at noon of the seventh day, awake, trying to climb out the window of the third floor Xion says she does not recall.
Boss Baku feels bad about that for a long time. Everyone else assumes it was a combination of stress, an unknown location, and exhaustion.
It’s years before Yen Sid hears the story. Xion gets a long, long, loooooooooong, lecture about using dark corridors without any protection.
An even longer one about unstable holes torn into the world border.


She never does remember.

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It's raining when she comes to. The thick fog that had pervaded her thoughts having faded to a dull haze. Sadly that’s the only good news. Xion can’t feel her legs. Or rather she can feel them, but it's the dull vagueness of a limb having fallen asleep. Sharp pins and needles jab at her if she moves wrong.
Her arms are wobbly and unable to take her weight as she tries to rise. Breathing is a struggle, lungs stiff, and nose stuffy. Xion has never been sick, not like this. Sora remembers a really bad spring where they had pneumonia. She’s not a doctor but definitely feels like a bad memory. How am I here? Where is here?

When the door opens its a man wearing a belt over his eyes. Odd. Several patches of his skin looked sewn on. Most importantly, he seems just as surprised to see her awake as she is to see him. With the belt she can’t tell. “Uhhh… hi? Welcome to the land of the waking.” Where am I? Who are you? He strides across the room to help her as she struggles to sit. Once he starts to reach Xion can’t help but flinch away.

Instantly the man stops. How can he see with the belt on? An inane thought, a distraction. “Can you speak?”

“...”

“Fair enough.” Belts chuckled.Silence is often its own answer.

Belts? Seriously, that's the best we have? Come on Xion you are- were, she amended, XIV of The Organization XIII. You can do better than that.

During Xion’s internal monologue, Belts (really?) had gently reached out to the pitcher on the bedside, slowly starting to fill a chipped cup. “Would you like to drink? I can help with that.”
Sometimes how thirsty we are slips our minds until some else brings it up. She was downright parched. Sadly another attempt to sit up ended the same way as the last.

“I can help you, if you would like. Or you can take as long as you need.”

Deliberation was brief. Bodily needs overriding justified paranoia. Jerking her head down and grunting. It was close enough. Belts set the cup aside before helping. Instead of pulling her up like she expected he reached out with both hands. One gently sat on her shoulder, the other hovering just in reach. Xion stared for a moment before reaching up and taking his offered hand.
Her own strength moved her, he simply supported the action.

The moment Xion was upright Pillows were rearranged to keep her that way. Breathing became easier too. Belts passed the cup into her hands. “Drink slowly.” Tempting as it was to chug the glass and ease the soreness in her throat, Xion knew good advice when she heard it.
With a pat on the shoulder and a promise of food belts made their way out of the room.

Belts did not return. Instead a young woman hip-checked her way through the door.
A large platter in hand. “Good afternoon darlin. Blank said you were awake and hungry.
I Don’t have much, this being a theater and all. But I brought some hot supper.”
She was taller than Xion (not hard. If I had to be a guys clone why couldn’t I get someone with height?) and wore a green skirt paired with a white blouse.

Xion nodded sharply twice, before being hit by a sudden bout of vertigo… worth it.

Gained: Simple shirt. Defense: 1 Magic Def: 0 Abilities: None
Description: Xion woke up in this simple but comfortable shirt.
Its a nice peach color.

Chapter Text

Xion's head was clearing at last, and it no longer hurt to breathe. Over the last few days Miss Ruby and Blank had taken care of her in the spare room of the theater. She had not said a single word since waking up, though her throat had cleared some time ago. Today, like every day, found her alone in the room, with only the rain outside, the music from the Orchestrion, and her thoughts.

I still can’t believe Belts real name is Blank. I’m not sure if that says more about The Organization, his parents, or me. I should probably thank them. For taking me in after I passed out at the very least. Should I ask for my pants back? Most of my munny is in my pockets.
…. Would it be too much to ask to keep the shirt?

“Little Miss. Little Miss?” Xion swung around towards the door. “There you are, little Miss. I was starting ta worry. You’ve been staring at the rain like fishes on dry land.” Miss Ruby moved into the room with her platter on one shoulder. “I’ve brought some sandwiches, if ya want to try solid today with the supe.” It smells wonderful, no, it smells a thousand times better than wonderful.
Xion would definitely thank them later, but for now she let it be a problem for future Xion.