Work Text:
"Of course." Ansem's voice came through as a low grumble. "That insolent subordinate."
Ansem…!
Desperate to stay undetected, Xion cowered further into her hasty hiding place beneath Xemnas’ desk, swallowing against her increasing panic. Tried to, anyway. The action proved fruitless, the clamor of Ansem swiping everything clean off of the desk's surface still ringing heavy in her ears.
He must've been coming to see Xemnas, obviously furious that he wasn't here. Or perhaps, furious that he knew Saïx had something to do with that. His ‘distraction’ that allowed Xion to infiltrate the office in the first place. She drew her clenched fists close to her chest, painfully aware of how they trembled; of the startled gasp she hadn't been able to help amidst the displayed aggression, and her now wavering breath breaking to allow a tiny whimper to escape. It cut off with a hand slapping over her mouth, hoping against everything that it'd kept the sound at bay.
Please, please don't let him have heard me…
Another moment of silence. Then, seemingly accepting he wouldn't get what he came for, a shuffle indicated Ansem turning in place.
But not for the exit. No, the slow click of boots strengthened rather than diminished. Coming closer.
Xion's heart beat wild in her chest. Wide eyes stayed glued to the shift of shadows growing around the flickering light of the toppled over lamp, soon eclipsed by the dreaded sight of those boots stepping into view. Slowly, they pointed toward her position. Next came Ansem's head ducking just as slow, mouth stretched thin with a chilling smirk.
Xion's stomach sank.
She'd been caught.
A crook of his finger beckoned her out. Useless in trying to stifle any longer, this whimper fell unimpeded. Hopefully the cover of her hood at least hid whatever pitiful expression she was sure her face had twisted into.
The weight of defeat made Xion's limbs sluggish as she forced them to obey, crawling from the cover of the desk and standing stiff in Ansem's presence. He reached out, harsh fingers pinching into her ear and tugging her much closer than preferred, hood effectively slipping to leave everything plain to see. So much for that tiny solace. Pained gasp ignored, the man summoned a dark corridor, Xion's shock at its appearance barely having time to register before being awkwardly dragged through to another, identical dark office – Ansem's own, she had to presume. Nothing about this situation was getting better.
The tight grip on her ear released. She staggered back – away – resisting the urge to rub at the sting left behind when facing Ansem once more.
“W-we're not supposed to use dark corridors to travel the castle.”
Xion didn't know why that was the first thing to come out of her mouth, of all the thoughts tumbling in her mind, that one feeling the most prevalent. Maybe because it was one of the first warnings Saïx had given after her reintroduction, of how serious of an offence the higher-ups regarded that. But for a higher-up to do so himself? It didn't matter that she had been entertaining the very idea of summoning her own for a quick escape route at the appearance of Ansem; the notion rang unsettling beyond something she could describe. “To use the shortcut is to admit you're doing something you're not supposed to be.”
Ansem's eyes turned upward as his shoulder gave half a shrug, a movement almost unnatural to witness from one usually of such serious stature. “Is that what you think I'm doing?” he questioned back, tone indecipherable. “Something I should not?”
Xion didn't know what to think. Only that she'd been caught red-handed and really didn't want to be here right now.
Thankfully, Ansem didn't push for an answer. “On the topic of things we shouldn't be doing,” he diverted, turning away to pace the moonlit room that failed to feel as spacious as it should have. “Care to explain your presence in my Other's office?”
“Um.”
What was she supposed to do here? Not tell the truth, that was for sure. Xion was already letting Saïx down just by being here, she couldn't let his intentions to undermine the Organization slip, too; that she'd been searching for any clues that would help them understand just what the higher-ups were planning for this war of theirs. Just as that wasn't an option, neither was staying silent, refusing to respond painting her in a just as guilty light.
Panic gripped Xion's lungs, ceasing to do their job in providing the steady, even breath she needed to think. And mellowed by the pounding of her heart, a serious voice echoed in the back of her mind, relaying another warning she had been subjected to many times.
‘Panic is a killer.’
Not that Ansem would kill her. No, Saïx had made the importance of their position clear, and that there were other means the higher-ups would resort to should they not stay in their expected lanes. The last way Xion wished to learn of said means was to witness them herself. The situation was screaming at her to run. She had to think of a way out of this!
“...I was looking for Saïx.” The lie frustratingly hesitated when leaving her drying throat, as if it itself knew how lame of a cover it was. “When you came in, I got scared. So I hid.”
Ansem's head gave a slight shift over his shoulder. “Has Saïx not retired to his chambers by now?”
Crap. “Um– no, w-well…”
He wasn't buying it, that half-concealed grin spreading at Xion's sputtering telling her all she needed to know. The realization impossibly dried her throat further.
“Well, no matter.” Ansem stopped at a separate door on the far side of the office. It was locked with a tiny click. “Wherever you tend to stray, the mutt is usually never far behind.” A couple of more strides brought him to the window, drawing the blinds and snuffing out what little light had been permitted to come through. “He's bound to come looking for his missing pup eventually.”
Xion ignored the slighted terms for the sake of maintaining that scrap of composure that so wanted to flee. It didn't stop her freshly sprouted fangs from itching in irritation though, those much harder to ignore while blinking in the new darkness to keep track of Ansem still on the move. “I don't understand,” Xion managed to voice. Was she in trouble or not? “You're not going to tell Xemnas?”
“On the contrary. I'm not obligated to divulge everything to my Other.” Ansem stopped at one of two chairs behind his desk, taking a seat. “Consider this a lenience on my part for providing me the opportunity to reconvene with Saïx. You'll just have to provide me suitable company until then.” He leaned back with a crossing of his arms. “Do refrain from doing anything else foolish in the meantime.”
He made it sound like he was expecting her to stay in here. Now confusion began to creep into Xion's growing unease. “If Saïx is who you want to see, what do you need me here for?”
“Let's just say, he's due to give me something. And your presence will ensure that I receive it.”
That didn't necessarily clear things up. If anything, it had Xion feeling more confused. Saïx wouldn't want to hear about her findings until morning, that's what they'd discussed when concocting this whole plan. He'd clearly be worried if she failed to meet him, Xion already kicking herself at having let the one thing she promised him wouldn't happen indeed happen. Even when Saïx did eventually come looking in light of her absence… then what? What exactly was Ansem's plan here?
Considering recent discoveries, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
A hand gestured to the chair next to Ansem's. “By all means, have a seat.”
Xion's feet stayed firmly planted where they were. Images of bruises not yet completely faded sprang to mind. Fresh memories of a mangled wrist and a quiet, sparse explanation that didn't entirely make sense.
“Are you… going to hurt him?”
“That doesn't concern you.”
Screw repercussions.
Xion's hand flew sideways, a dark corridor answering her call.
As quick as it had appeared, it disappeared, the dark swirls sinking back into the ground seconds before Xion could bolt through them. She spun around, throat seizing when met with Ansem's own still-suspended hand and very stern look he wore.
“Don't test me, puppet.”
Of course that wouldn't work. The man's affinity was literally darkness, able to bend it at his will. There was no getting out of here until permitted by Ansem.
With no other choice, Xion sauntered over to the waiting chair. She may have to be compliant, but she didn't have to be happy about it, her face set in a scowl to show him as much when dropping into the seat.
That slimy, self-satisfied grin returned, the way Ansem lounged in his own seat with his arms crossing back over his chest stoking that irritation. She mirrored him, adamant on holding that gleaming gaze to convey that she was prepared to face whatever the rest of the night would bring; a lesser lie than the previous one, so hopefully not as easily detected.
“How fares Saïx? Has he been looking after that wrist of his?”
“...”
“What of you? Have you kept that parasite ability in check?"
“...”
A rumbling laugh filled Xion's stubborn silence, domineering, and reverberating to her core. But no more questions followed.
So, they waited.
And waited.
They waited, and Xion deliberated.
What can I do? How can I prevent something terrible from happening?
Because something terrible would happen if she just sat here and allowed Saïx to walk right into her mess, no doubt about it. She had to protect him, the same as he's been doing for her. Yet no solid plan would formulate within her fatigued brain, lack of sleep catching up to her fast. Xion's eyes threatened to close more than once in the stretching quiet, lidding Ansem from view before anxiety was shaking her back to wakefulness. She had to stay alert, she had to think.
A knock. Immediately Xion was wide awake again, fearful eyes thrown at the door. That can't be him already!
Ansem too sat upright, a smirk aimed at her when he spoke. “Enter.”
Xion swallowed hard, time feeling to slow as the door eased open with no heed of how unprepared she was to meet that guaranteed disappointment from Saïx so soon. Along with Ansem's dreaded next step.
Thankfully, she didn't have to.
“Xion?”
Vexen paused on the other end, a stack of folders clutched under one arm and wearing a bewildered expression shadowed by the sliver of light bleeding in behind him. Possibly the best person Xion could've hoped for to interject in this uncomfortable arrangement. His next question – of what was going on, surely – was interrupted by a wave of Ansem's hand.
“Nevermind that,” he coldly dismissed, disappointment at their visitor clear. “What do you want?”
“Uh. I have an update analysis for our, ahem, project.” Vexen’s attention briefly cut back to Xion at the stressed word. “I was told to have you review it before it could be passed along in the morning.”
“The young master is perfectly capable of reading as well; bother him with that.”
Xion shot a desperate look to the scientist, hoping it'd convey her unspoken plea: please don't leave me here.
When meeting it, Vexen gave no reaction outside of a hair of a twitch from his brows, so subtle that she feared the message might've gone over his head. But it appeared to be received loud and clear, automatically holding her breath as he scrabbled for some kind of excuse to stay. “You and I both know how the young master is about his sleep,” the blond countered at Ansem's idea. “If I were to rouse him for this, I'd never hear the end of it. Besides, you outrank him, correct? Would you really rather me pass something so important to your junior?”
There was a pause. Ansem then decidedly stood, stomping toward the scientist and roughly snatching the files.
“Begone.”
The door swung forward– only to be stopped by a surprisingly strong grip from Vexen refusing to budge. “I-if I may inquire–” he insisted, gaze locking back to Xion's.
“No, you may not. We were just having ourselves a discussion.”
“Well, it's much too late for that, don't you think? She really ought to be in bed.”
“Irrelevant,” Ansem again dismissed. A dismissal that was ignored.
“I'll see her to her room.” Vexen extended a hand. "Come, child."
Xion sprung from her chair, rushing for her ticket to freedom.
"Stay."
The curt command spitting from Ansem stopped her dead in her tracks. As did it cause Vexen's arm to retreat back to himself, Xion not missing the way his thumb nervously ran along his knuckles.
“Really now, Ansem.” Neither did she miss that tiny waver to his voice. “What could possibly be important enough to discuss that can't wait until morning? To deprive her of valuable rest needed for missions?”
Ansem stood still and silent in the face of the scientist's persistence. That alone should have offered some semblance of hope, that the chance to worm out of this slip up was still possible. However, unable to see what mystery expression stared down Vexen's obviously straining one, only served to fill Xion with the opposite.
A fist knotting into the blond's coat didn't do that any better, Vexen the next to be dragged into the office.
“Yes, alright–!” came his disgruntled compliance, left stumbling towards Xion's direction. Her preemptive attempt to steady him went ignored, the man quick to stand tall and brush out his bunched coat with a huff. How he managed to not be scared out of his wits – whether that was completely staged or not – was beyond Xion. Unashamedly, she inched closer to Vexen’s side, like that could somehow siphon the courage she lacked.
When the door shut, descending them into darkness once more, she swore he further closed the gap.
Ansem tossed the files to his desk, papers messily sliding from their vanilla covers in a way that Xion was sure Vexen would’ve had a few choice words about were he not immediately pinned back under the higher-up’s scrutinizing glare. “If you must know, I found this one snooping around Xemnas’ office.”
Xion inwardly cringed underneath the stunned expression aiming her way. At least being in Ansem's presence got her off the hook from an undoubtedly lengthy lecture, Vexen deploying it for no longer than a second in favor of covering her back. “I'm sure it's not what it looked like.”
That had Ansem's eyes narrowing. Suspicious. “What's this? Why so eager to defend such blatant insubordination?”
“I'm not!” Vexen quickly explained, lie that it was. “I'm saying that this must be some kind of misunderstanding!”
Again came that unsettling smile, just as bone-chilling as when Xion had faced it alone.
“How interesting… My Other has had his suspicions about his hand chosen for some time now, you and Saïx. I didn't waste my thoughts on the matter, but I have to say, now I'm intrigued. This makes for a much more entertaining game.”
Xion stiffened, barely containing a gasp. That couldn't be true, right? No way Xemnas knew what they were up to. The same alarm must've struck Vexen as well, stiffening alongside her and blowing out a less than easy laugh.
“Oh, come now. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? There is no game– there is no betrayal! Certainly not from the lot of us.”
Ansem wasn't having it. “Tell me what it is that you three are scheming.”
Shaking her head, Xion did her best to pick up the scientist's faltering confidence. “There's nothing to tell.”
“I think there is.”
The man stalked forward and Vexen nearly collided into Xion in his haste to maintain distance between them, a hand shooting back to grip her arm. He was trembling. And his grasp only grew harsher when Ansem continued, pushing them closer to the desk in their retreat where they'd soon have nowhere to go. Xion cast the barricade a worrisome glance, mind racing with what they should do.
That's when she saw it. There, on one of the reports scattering the wood, its bold text barely able to be made out in the darkness.
‘Influence of the mind.’
That title. It was the very same title she had spotted among the reports in Xemnas' desk before her untimely interruption – although, unable to decipher any of the strange symbols that had been written beneath it. But these words here were perfectly legible as far as she could tell beneath the shrouding shadow. Xion's head bowed, eyeing Ansem whose attention stayed fixed on the man obscuring her. The further he advanced, the closer she was guided to the precious information. She only needed to discreetly take in all that she could.
Vexen spoke up again, upholding the dispute with slow, forced steadiness, though the conversation merely playing in the back of Xion's mind as she began straining to put sentences together.
“I think you are mistaken.”
“We shall soon see. Perhaps Saïx will be more interested in explaining. And not a single one of you will be leaving until I get some answers. If I have to extract them myself, so be it.”
‘Vials… evenly distributed… during experimentation…’
An indignant noise sounded above. “You don't expect us to stand here all night, do you?”
“Unless you have something to confess first?”
Experiments? Xion pondered. Like some sort of procedure?
‘To r-renounce… sense of self… perform… experiments on–’
A sudden burst of noise interrupted her scanning as well as Vexen's fumbling for yet another excuse, the office door again thrown wide without so much as a knock. And again, the visitor they were greeted with was thankfully not who Xion expected – though this one far from a welcome sight to see.
Xigbar froze halfway through the frame, one hand still grasping the handle, and a rectangular bottle of… something filling the other. His single stunned eye landed on each of them in turn.
“Well, ain't this a surprise,” he chuckled, hearty, and grating to Xion's ears. “Are we getting a party started in here, or what?”
“What we're getting is sleep deprivation!” Vexen snapped back at the higher-up fully letting himself in, heedless of the one still crowding them – even going so far as to throw a hand in the face of that returning displeasure at yet another intrusion. “Ansem here is accusing us of treason on nothing but baseless assumptions! And is refusing to let us leave on the inane logic that he's bound to discover something that isn't there! Just the kind of impulsiveness you'd expect from a Heartless!”
He boldly spit the term, clearly the presence of a familiar coworker rejuvenating some of that lost fervor. Or maybe it was that ever pitching fear, the rush of adrenaline that provoked such a tone. Both were still very much there, Xion sensing their negativity that seeped off of the body attempting to keep her shielded, its haze constricting like his persistent hold grown painful and taunt.
If anything else planned to fire off, it was promptly bit back by the glare Ansem bore back, another threatening step taken in their direction. There it stayed when giving his own explanation.
“These two conniving subordinates have stepped out of line, simple as that. They pry and conspire where they shouldn't, and dare think they can deceive me from right underneath my nose.” Xion instinctively shied from the narrowed gaze felt raking over her in particular. “Reeducadation is in order.”
It was one's word against another's, though Xion painfully aware of where the scale tipped in their favor. Opposite of the wound-up Vexen and seething Ansem, however, Xigbar appeared wholly disinterested in the accusations. Almost bored, she'd dare say. “Look–” He strolled forward, hand lazily resting on his hip. “I don't know what's going on here, and frankly don't care. But if you're thinking of roughing up our surrogate and trump card, I'd advise against it. They're under Xemnas’ jurisdiction, let him deal with them.”
Mention of the Superior had that glare whipping around to the one-eyed man– whose hands promptly rose in defense, the copper liquid of his bottle one careless swish away from spilling past the lip.
“Whoa, fine! Why not just bump them up the list for the program then and be done with it? We've all got work to do in the morning.”
“No! You mustn't!”
The volume of Vexen's shout startled Xion out of her skin, thick with desperation that hadn't been there moments ago. Her head swiveled between the three others in alarm, wariness ramping up anew. “What? What does he mean?” The question might as well have never been uttered.
“My work has been steady! My progress indisputable!”
“You realize just because you're the brains behind the operation, that doesn't exempt you from the line-up, right?” Xigbar interjected.
“Please!”
Vexen's continued defense came shrill and frantic, a far cry from the sturdy lies that were delivered for Xion beforehand. Those words she'd barely managed to decipher, their meaning still a mystery in the context she woefully lacked… They blared loud in her mind, front and center and overtaking all other thoughts like a warning just as desperate to be heard as the scientist's crying pleas. Xion snatched from the painful grasp anchoring her and rounded on him, no longer able to keep her own panic from slipping forward.
“What are they talking about?” she repeated. “Vexen!”
Wide blown eyes landed on her concerned ones, lips wringing like they were actively keeping an explanation from leaving their confines. Again Xion was ignored in favor of the men before them.
“This is an unfortunate mistake that I will personally ensure will never happen again. Leave the child be, a-and allow me another chance to prove we are nothing but dutiful, just– please.”
Ansem and Xigbar said nothing, their executioners standing in wait. Pondering? Or simply ignoring the request as they silently deliberated amongst themselves? Xion may not completely understand, but Saïx's spoken suspicions were all but confirmed. But this thing – program, experiments – Vexen was in on it, too? Or was this just something else he was duping the higher-ups with, playing them the same way he had played his way back into the Organization's ranks on her and Roxas’ behalf?
That didn't matter right now. Xion had gotten her answer either way. The Organization was indeed planning something and it had Vexen terrified.
That left only one thing to do.
Xion lunged into a wide stance, her body now the one to shield his. Open fingers were thrown to the air, momentarily blinded by the blaze of cyan flames that summoned her replicated Claymore into her grasp. Barely catching the shout of her name from behind, she flipped its hefty weight to point square at Ansem with zero hesitation.
“There is no misunderstanding, and it wasn't a mistake that I was in Xemnas' office. I snuck in because I thought he might be hiding something in there, plain as that.” Xion didn't dare include Saïx's name in the spontaneous confession, him having originally come up with the plan to snoop. The stakes that this situation had devolved to was her fault and her fault alone, and she'd rightfully take the entirety of the blame. “I know it was wrong, and I don't care what happens to me. But I am not going to let you hurt anyone else.”
Her fingers wrapped tighter around the handle, detecting the slightest thrum of energy resonating with her statement. Xion doubted she could take the two of them on her own, even if Vexen were to jump in to assist – a prospect she also unfortunately had doubts about. The consequences would be severe. But if she reached past her fear, dug deep down and called upon that bubbling anger simmering somewhere beneath the surface, maybe she could get Berserk to awaken. That's how it worked, right? To call upon the moon and be granted a boost of power influenced by hate and rage? That's how Saïx had explained it to her. Although its light was not available to her, the moon was indeed high in the sky and Xion begged to it, for hatred to triumph and aid her in protecting Vexen and Saïx from their selfless betrayal being discovered. It would stave off those consequences at the very least, if not downright tear the higher-ups asunder in her stead.
Work, please…!
“The thing admits it.” Ansem's hand shot out, wrapping around the teeth of the Claymore and yanking to close the distance it guarded, Xion going with it. Any notion to retaliate flew out the window, the sneer aiming down his nose locking her in place– just as much as his cold declaration. “And the three of them shall pay the proper sentence. Thoroughly.”
Vexen might’ve exclaimed something. Xion wasn't sure. It sounded like Xigbar answered him, but it was an answer she couldn't make out, nothing registering past the involuntary freeze that overtook her body, like chains had been thrown over her shoulders and her boots filled with lead. Silver and gold ruled it all, so close and suffocating and too much– and there was that overdue hatred, but it didn't come from her. Oh no, Ansem wore the emotion like a second skin, reeked of it, an all encompassing darkness that blotted out the other bodies in the room, Xion the sole target of its ire. Fixed, stuck, and full on anticipating to be devoured by its vengeful jaws.
It took approaching movement for the rest of their surroundings to click back into reality, Xion's eyes quick to cut to Xigbar breaking through the dark cloud.
“Hey, I'm a compassionate guy,” he drawled in that tone that she didn't at all trust. “It's pretty late, so I suppose I'll let this one off with a warning. Just this once.” The unoccupied hand landed on the shaft of the Claymore, turning down a look onto Xion. “Don't think we'll be forgetting this little act of rebellion, though! You've got a very special visit waiting for you down the line.”
“Xigbar.”
The warning hiss from Vexen was paid no mind, crinkled eye staring into Xion's like he was waiting for another retort or bout of questions. She had none to offer. Initial adrenaline had been all but snuffed out. No extra power surged through her limbs. No boost in strength encouraged her to swing at the crowding men. Only terror reigned throughout her stiff form; for what that could possibly mean and what would happen in the upcoming seconds.
Xigbar eventually turned his pointed look to Ansem still latched onto her Claymore. Xion did too, muscles trembling with the effort of keeping the weapon erect. The sensation in her legs could be shamelessly excused for the same reason.
For a long moment, Ansem didn't move, not even deigning to blink in his gazes’ refusal to leave her. His lips parted, speaking through gritted teeth. “There's a lesson to be taught. To Xemnas’ sniveling lap-dog, especially. For this arrogant attitude he and his pup feel so comfortable displaying.”
“C'mon, boss-in-law,” Xigbar pressed. “You know the old man won't take kindly to his schedule being interrupted. And anything that affects his mood affects Xemnas’ mood, which is gonna affect my mood, sooo…” Air sucked in between his teeth, giving a noisy hiss. “I can't let you do that.”
Another long, terse moment, filled with nothing but Ansem's unrelenting glower.
Finally, finally the Claymore was released– shoved away, more like, rough enough to knock Xion sideways as it dissipated into thin air. Before she could straighten, Ansem was suddenly very close again, hunched to bring their faces mere inches apart.
“Pass a message along to Saïx for me,” he whispered, words hot in her ear. “I always get what I want. And the longer he keeps me waiting, the more I shall make him regret it.”
Those trembles failed to subside, leaking into Xion's voice. “Y-yes, sir.”
Ansem's chin jutted towards the door. Permission to go.
Xion swiftly abided, Vexen on her heels out the exit. Xigbar, too, followed behind them, clearly no longer bothered to see through his reason for visiting Ansem in the first place.
The office door slammed shut once out in the safety of the hallway. Xion drew her first easy breath in what felt like hours. A jolt ruined the basked in relief courtesy of Xigbar, loudly piping up.
“Welp, can't say that's how I was expecting my night to go. Don't say I ain't never done nothing for ya!” He pointed to Vexen before gesturing up the bottle in hand with arched brows.
“No!”
Xigbar shrugged at the rejection, taking a drink for himself. His free hand balled into a fist, colliding hard into Xion's shoulder when the bottle lowered from his lips now turned up in a strange smile. Unsure what that was about, all she could do was rub at the sore spot while the one-eyed man turned down the corridor, leaving her and Vexen alone.
Together they stood in stagnant, nearly unbearable, weighty silence.
Suddenly, Vexen was whipping around with a scowl and a scolding finger at the ready. Xion flinched, prepared to spill a slew of apologies. Until it all melted away. His posture sagged, expression matching. When his voice finally found him, it came out much quieter than expected.
“We do not speak of this to anyone. Especially Saïx. Forget everything you heard tonight. Understand?”
Blinking back, Xion relented a single nod. Then she rushed forward.
A small “Oof,” squeezed out of the man as her arms wrapped around his torso, breathing a whisper into his coat.
“I was so scared…”
A second of nothing followed her admission. But soon the embrace was reciprocated, a hand raising to her head and settling gently at her back, the simple contact of the pats they delivered offering an astronomical comfort. Xion relaxed further into his arms. The encounter had been terrifying. Beyond disturbing. But thankfully, she hadn't had to face it alone.
Too soon did the contact retreat, Vexen just as gentle when pushing Xion away. She swallowed a twinge of disappointment at that. She knew it was just to prevent anyone else from seeing; they've already gotten in enough trouble for one night.
When Vexen stepped back to clear his throat, Xion pretended not to notice the hint of red rising to his cheeks. “Well… that was a very brave thing you did back there. Albeit, extremely foolish. Regardless, I can't withhold my appreciation for that.” He sighed, a low exasperated sound. “You're alright, and that's all that matters. It's done with.”
It was, that was true. Tell that to the queasy churning of her stomach. Something told Xion she'd best join in the tiptoeing Saïx had been doing these last few days. She… wouldn't be getting that voice out of her head for a while.
“So…” The blond continued. “Get yourself to bed. Straight away, now.”
The sternness that attempted to lace that order didn't quite stick. Vexen lingered a second more, giving an awkward shuffle of his feet before he too was hurrying away.
Yes. Xion would very much like to get to bed. She'd need a fresh mind to recount the details of her findings to Saïx in the morning.