this is long and it has big old kh3 spoiler warning on it. also i did not read it over or proofread it at all. get wrecked
//
You must be exhausted.
I am.
If he had been asked a week ago, or even a day ago, Lea would have said that he would rather have died than return to this place, and it would have been the truth. Too many bitter memories, too many ghosts, both his own and those of others who had been twisted beyond recognition alongside him. Despite all outward appearances, he wanted nothing more than to leave Axel, and everything he had done, behind him. He wanted to be worthy of doing so.
And yet it always did surprise him, the lengths to which he was willing to go for Isa.
Wouldn’t you like to stay here? To sleep?
Yes…but there is someone coming for me. I can’t stay.
He had expected the worst of it to be over, and in many ways it was. He had hoped to find Isa back in Radiant Garden, to discover him lying in the same room in which he himself had awoken once recompleted, maybe a little bit dazed, but theoretically safe with the others. But when he had arrived at the lab, Isa was once again nowhere to be found, and Lea realized too late how unlikely it was that his heart would have been taken there and then, with the risk of any of them waking up and interrupting. Of course they had moved him first.
How can you know that?
I don’t.
Of course they would take him back here.
He had searched the badlands and the graveyard, trying not to think about what it meant that he was looking for Isa in a graveyard in the first place, trying to focus on what he knew rather than how it had felt to have him fade away in his arms. At least he hadn’t been alone. At least his heart had been his own in his final moments as Saïx.
Regardless of all symbolism, it quickly became apparent that Isa wasn’t there either, and the old frantic feeling that he recognized from the first time he had gone missing returned with equal speed. Even though it was foolish.
It had been Even who suggested it. Said that was where his own heart had been corrupted. Offered to go with him, but Lea refused, naturally.
And yet I can see that you believe it’s true.
I trust him.
A world that never was. A world that was, but never should have been. Either way, it was no longer a place for him, and it was no longer a place for Isa.
He had, of course, considered the possibility that Isa was simply gone.
The others had as well. They hadn’t said anything out loud, but he knew pity when he saw it, and the way they looked at him out of the corners of their eyes was heavy with it.
Everyone but Xion, who had caught him by the arm as he left and looked him in the eyes with that sorrow and hope that had always struck him as far too deep for a girl whose time in the world had been as short as hers. But he knew her loneliness came from the knowledge she carried, that she had known and felt things that no other soul would ever be able to understand, self-formed heart as she was. She could have been so angry. Instead she was just kind.
“You’ll find him,” she had said. “No one is ever really gone.”
“You don’t have to—” Lea shook his head. “You don’t have to. I—I appreciate it, but he, with you he…it was—”
“I know what it was.” She looked up at him seriously. “And I would really like to understand why, so get him back here so I can ask him about it, okay?”
Lea could barely conceive of the depth of Xion’s compassion, the forgiveness she appeared to be capable of. Forgiveness she extended even towards those who likely didn’t deserve it yet, but was willing to believe in until they showed her that they did. People who had treated her as an object, sometimes because they didn’t know any better, sometimes because they didn’t care.
As he made his way through the halls, still so blinding in their unforgiving brightness, he wondered if he had tried hard enough to make Saïx see the truth about her. If things might have been different had he succeeded. Lea had finally seen an empty replica recently, the one that Even was working on repairing for Namine, and the blank, dead face had made him nauseous, knowing that was what Saïx had been seeing where Xion should have been.
Saïx had been too jealous to ask or to listen. And Axel had been too lonely in the wake of their crumbling relationship, too willing to throw himself entirely into anything at all that could make him smile again, and once he had been reminded what that could feel like, it had been hard to even look Saïx in the eyes, feeling the loss of that love all too acutely. It was still there; he could see that now, from the other side. It would have been impossible for them to hurt each other so deeply if it were not. But it was a wounded thing, poisoned by envy and hopelessness and anger.
They had given up so much for one another, and in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
Are you afraid?
Of?
Going back.
Of course I am.
Lea stared up at the towering thrones, white pillars where they had once sat and waited, never quite knowing for what. He had half expected to find Isa in his old seat, legs crossed and hands locked together to keep them from shaking. None of the others had ever known that was his reason for being so tightly held together, and Axel had never told a soul. Saïx, like Isa, relied on appearing as though he had no doubts. About himself, about his plans, about any of it.
And yet he had been so afraid. And fear made him angry. And anger made it easier for Xemnas to sink his poison deeper and deeper into the heart he refused to acknowledge he had.
He shuddered, remembering the telltale glow of his silhouette, the emptiness behind those shining yellow eyes. The flat fury on his face that held nothing to suggest that the man he remembered was anywhere inside, the heavy blade held above him, ready to fall and end the life that had once been lived for he who wielded it.
But it never did.
No matter how many times he had come close, he was never able to finish it.
He leaned his forehead against the doorframe when he reached his old room, closing his eyes at the familiar touch of cold metal. Remembering the number of times Saïx had found him here, in the beginning, curled into a ball on the floor, trying to make himself as small as possible so that his tears wouldn’t feel like a weakness.
You’re just remembering, Saïx had said, pulling Axel to his feet. I asked Vexen. He said this could happen. It’s still possible to cry. The memories of your emotions are evoking a physical response.
You told— Axel wrenched his arm away. You told him I was crying?
Saïx looked at him. No, he said evenly. I said that I was.
…Oh. Really?
Yes.
For a moment, they were silent.
Axel laughed shakily. Can’t I just…hit the kill switch or something? Wasn’t emptying out supposed to get rid of all this crap?
You need to be strong. It’s the only way.
Specific. Any ideas on how?
Saïx smiled at him, small and sad but real, even in those days already an expression all too rare. He placed his hands on the sides of Axel’s face, resting his thumbs underneath his eyes.
Get some upside down tears. Marks right here. Keep you from crying.
Axel chuckled despite himself. You think?
Oh, of course.
When he opened his eyes and saw the figure slumped against the wall, the flash of blue hair that told him everything he needed to know, he felt for a moment as though he should have anticipated that this was the only place he could possibly be.
“Isa!”
Lea fell to his knees at Isa’s side once more, his heart pounding when he saw the unconscious face. He was breathing, but his eyes were only half open, staring at the ground with a blank look that scared him more than any rage ever could. It was impossible to tell what color his irises were.
“Isa. It’s over. It’s safe.”
When he brushed Isa’s cheek with the back of his hand, his skin was cold. He had always ran much colder than Lea, of course. But he didn’t want to think about how long Isa had been lying here. How long he had been waiting.
“Wake up. Come back.”
He pulled Isa back into his lap and held him as he had the dying Saïx, trying to bring him back down the same way he had set him free.
“Please,” Lea whispered.
Time to go?
Time to go.
Good luck.
And Isa returned to life in the same way that Saïx had left it; in Lea’s arms.
For a moment they stared at each other, Lea trying to process the enormous kick of relief that had swept through his body, Isa more disoriented than anything else, unable to recognize the warmth in his chest for what it was. He blinked up at Lea, realizing for the first time what it meant that he was there, with a body and a beating heart and an intact soul.
“You’re alive,” Isa breathed. “You’re all right.”
“I—me?” He laughed in disbelief. “You—you’re talking about—when you just—”
“You are alive? This isn’t some sort of…”
“Isa…” Lea pulled him up to a sitting position, still gripping him tightly by the shoulders, correctly assuming that if he let go Isa was at risk of collapsing again. “If you think this is heaven, you either have shit standards or those three hit you harder than I thought they did.”
“Both are likely true, but fortunately injuries don’t appear to carry over.” He winced at the memory. “Xion may have cracked a rib. Can’t quite find it in my h—”
Lea watched his frozen face curiously as he stared down at his hands with an incomprehensible expression.
“In my heart,” Isa murmured after a prolonged pause. “Can’t quite find it in my heart to blame her.”
“In your heart,” Lea repeated slowly. He pressed his hand against Isa’s chest, feeling for the heartbeat he knew so well, even after ten years. The rapid thump greeted him like the old friend it was. Always so much quicker than you would expect from an exterior that lacked any sort of ripples, as Isa’s seemed to, if you didn’t know where to look. “Isa, what happened? Are you hurt?”
“What do you mean?”
“You should have been able to wake up straight off. We all did.”
“Even didn’t.”
“He—oh.” He thought about it for a moment. “I guess he didn’t.”
“The damage,” Isa said delicately, “was particularly severe, in both his case and my own. Not physically,” he added upon seeing the stricken look on Lea’s face. “Just needed to be called home.”
“Well…” Lea slid down the wall beside him with a soft thump. “Did say I’d drag you home too.”
“I’ll be all right in a moment.”
“Take your time.”
He snorted, looking at the ceiling. “While we’re here? I would rather not.” When he lowered his eyes, Lea was staring at him intently. “What?”
Lea blinked. “Your eyes.”
His heart sank. Impossible. “You don’t mean—”
“No, I mean your eyes. They’re yours.”
Isa leaned forward carefully to get a good look at the window, watching for his own face in the dark glass. He had seen his yellow eyes for the first time in this room, had stared in mute horror as Axel tried to get an answer out of him as to what had happened, where did you go, what happened to your eyes, what happened to your face.
The cyclical shape of it all struck him when he caught his own eye and found green there instead.
“I certainly hope they’re—why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m—I hated seeing you—I never want to see you like that again,” Lea said.
Isa chuckled under his breath. “It wasn’t so bad, that time, actually.”
“You were—I haven’t seen you in that much pain since—”
“Maybe so,” he said quietly, “but at least, this time, I wasn’t alone.”
Lea watched him as he looked around at the colorless room, expression impassive, eyes haunted.
“This time’?” he said at last, when it became apparent Isa would not break the silence on his own.
“The last time I had to fade in such a way,” Isa said, knuckles white where his hands had knotted reflexively into fists, “I was…very much alone. I can’t remember a time when I felt more alone.”
You died alone. You died afraid.
“You remember what it feels like when your body goes, I’m sure.”
“Yeah.” Lea shuddered. “Wish I didn’t.”
A lead weight at the bottom of his stomach. What felt like a thousand hands pulling at him from all directions while feathers tried to lift his skin from the inside.
“I was ready to die on my feet again,” Isa muttered. “I didn’t expect you to be there. I didn’t expect you to catch me.”
“What, you—you thought I’d just sit there and watch you—”
“I thought you were already lost to me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know. I know.”
“I’m so sorry, Isa.”
“For what?”
“I wasn’t there for you. It kills me that you had to go through all of that alone.”
Isa looked down at his hands. “I didn’t want to be,” he said after a moment.
He continued to watch as Lea reached for them, allowing him to pull one of his hands into his lap and hold it in both of his own. He held it much too tightly, but that was just Lea. Always afraid that if he didn’t sink his teeth in far enough Isa might slip away again. It was difficult to blame him, considering that at least once his fears had been proven to be grounded.
“It felt—” His grip tightened further. “Felt like you didn’t want me back at all.”
“Oh.” Isa laughed weakly. “Oh, I did. More than anything. It was eating me alive.”
“Then why—”
“I knew it was only going to get worse,” he said. “And as hard as it was living without you, losing you a second time would have been more than I could take. I figured if I never had you back, at least…you couldn’t take yourself away again.”
“Isa, that’s horrible.”
“It’s the truth.”
They looked at their fingers, laced so tightly through one another’s that they were both beginning to go numb, but neither had even the slightest inclination to let go.
“I don’t want to be in this place anymore,” Isa said. “I would like to leave.”
Lea nodded. “Get up together, okay?”
“Yeah.”
He pulled Isa to his feet, where he swayed a little but steadied after realizing there was someone beside him waiting to support the weight he couldn’t take.
“Hey, one second.”
Isa turned. “What—”
It had been years since he had been kissed. It was so easy to forget how soft of a feeling it was when his memories of love had become so harsh, when towards the end Saïx and Axel had been more given to drawing blood than sharing what little warmth they did have. And Lea was, of course, more than warm, more like a compact wildfire with the heat he gave off. He had been so cold, for so long.
But Lea was there, and he burned like the sun, and he kissed Isa like it was the first and last thing he would ever do, and the pressure of it made both of them feel more real than they had in a decade.
“What was that for?” Isa said breathlessly when they finally came up for air.
Lea grinned, arms still locked around his waist. “Axel and Saïx had their first kiss in here, remember?”
Isa blinked. He had forgotten entirely, but it occurred to him that Lea was right.
“So Lea and Isa…”
Isa laughed out loud. “You’re ridiculous,” he told Lea, and pulled his face down to kiss him again.
It sucks you keep getting ak*roku asks, but every time you post about it and really drive home that it’s pedo bullshit, I gain like ten years back to my life that seeing people acting like it’s not has taken away.
“Miss Vahe? Were you able to access the computer without any difficulty?”
Having a new face within the castle shouldn’t have been too difficult of an adjustment, Ienzo supposed. He supposed that, but this woman was… interesting, to say the least. An enigma, and thankfully, not in the same way that Xehanort had been. It was the more interpersonal kind of enigma, and one Ienzo didn’t think, frankly, was possible of his guardians.
If there were two things he couldn’t fathom Even exhibiting, it was fear and adoration, but fear, at least, had a rational place among recent events. And with Even currently out of the castle with Master Ansem, it was hard to rationalize anything about Miss Vahe outside of him.
Still, if she had caught onto his apprehensions at all–and he was certain she had, one way or another–she was kind enough not to comment on it, offering only gentle, albeit mysterious smiles.
“I told you, Ienzo, you needn’t be so formal.” Her eyes twinkled, and whether that was a exaggeration or not on his part, he couldn’t say. He understood her powers even less than Even did, but he understood enough to know that there’d be no illusion that could fool her. “But, since you asked! I was able to get it running on its old OS with little difficulty. I’m not sure exactly what all of you did to its system when you brought it here, but I built that system from scratch. And I always make sure to leave myself a backdoor.”
“Meaning… it’s fully operational again?”
Miss Vahe smiled again, lips against a cup of tea. “Quite so. I’ve reconnected it to my datascape server; you should be able to access the 3D map of the city I constructed. With any luck, it’ll make the more cosmetic restoration efforts go by that much smoother.”
“Excellent.” Hand on his chest, Ienzo sighed quietly of relief. “Thank you, mom.”
Suddenly, like a record being pulled off its player, all movement in the dining room ceased, and every pair of eyes in the room landed on him.
Ienzo stared back. “…Why is everyone staring at me?”
“You just called Fiona ‘mom’.” Braig, never one to be at a loss for words, answered immediately. “You said ‘Thank you, mom’.”
“What–no, I didn’t?” Ienzo retorted. “I said, ‘Thank you, ma’am’.”
“You most certainly did not.” Dilan chimed in a second after; his tone and scent showcased genuine shock. “Ienzo. Do you see Fiona as a mother figure?”
“No!” It wasn’t characteristic of him to become so bristly, but Ienzo had never been fond of being treated like a child. Especially not now. “Perhaps, if anything, I see her a bother figure, because she’s always bothering me.”
“Ienzo.” Aeleus spoke up now, setting down the morning’s crossword puzzle sternly. “Show your mother some respect.”
“I didn’t call her ‘mom’!”
“No, no no no, Ienzo, everyone, calm down.” Miss Vahe set down her cup, and waved her hands downward, signaling the room at large to settle. “I take it as a compliment.”
“It’s really not a big deal!” Xion spoke up from beside Miss Vahe, still holding a half-eaten slice of toast in her hand. “I called Even ‘dad’ once.”
“Yes, you did!” Ienzo gestured one hand in Xion’s direction, looking at his guardians directly. “Jump on that, why don’t you!”
“Oh, please, that’s old news. Even has an adoption problem, big deal.” Braig said. “But you, calling Fiona ‘mommy’–”
Ienzo was not about to let that stand, and cut in quickly. “Hey. ‘Mommy’ is not on the table.”
“I will concede that, Braig.” Miss Vahe said. “He definitely did not say that.”
“There. You see?” Ienzo threw his hands up. “Miss Vahe even admitted it herself. I didn’t say it.”
“Of course, of course.” She added. “I believe you.”
Ienzo nodded once, slowly coming to peace.
“–Son.”
Peace was now gone. But before Ienzo could raise up another complaint, Miss Vahe rose to her feet, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can discuss this more later–perhaps while reviewing the data from the computer? I’d like to teach you how to operate the new system now, after all.”
The room went silent again while Ienzo processed the proposal–and then quietly, he answered. “I’d like that.”
“I’ve missed you” kiss w/ fio and even do it do it do it
hey guess who wrote 11 pages of heart palpitations IT WAS ME
(also not to be an early 2000s emo kid on main but this helps with the vibe)
Nightfall in Radiant Garden was, despite all odds, just as Even remembered it.
The sky of their world existed in a near constant state of dawn, and the lavender of the day would always melt into a deep, bluish violet, speckled with stars. Summer or winter, the night sky was always the same. It was a comfort Vexen had been too proud to admit he’d found comfort in, in the eternal midnight of the Organization’s world, but that was… mostly in the past, now. Even could admit he’d missed it. Taken it for granted, one might even say.
“Well, there you are.”
In retrospect, it seemed like he did that for many things, despite his best efforts.
He turned to face Fiona, one hand still on the castle’s ledge, and his heart swelled in a way it hadn’t for many, many years. “Shouldn’t you be inside resting?”
Fiona just smiled in that infallible way of her, arms crossed, and walked over beside him. Close, but not too close. “Surprising as the whole ordeal was… it would take a lot more than that to knock me off my feet. I’ve learned to bounce back quick.”
She looked out onto the town and the sky, just as Even had, and unable to argue that or the way his heart twisted in his chest, he fell into silence, and looked back out with her. “…Hm.”
Things had settled, since earlier in the day. Fiona’s sudden, surprising return to the world of light had thrown everyone for a spin, most of all her, and she and Even had definitely let their emotions overcome them, once they saw one another again. It took Fiona fainting in his arms after a long overdue embrace, and Aeleus having to tear him away from her chambers before Even was finally able to collect himself. All embarrassing, in and of itself, but understandable; Ienzo, surely, would be asking questions well into the next millennia over this, but at least the others wouldn’t give him any grief.
Well, Aeleus wouldn’t—the jury was still out for Dilan.
When your deceased fiance of two decades essentially comes back to life, one is bound to become a little emotional over it. Of course now, with composure, Even was left with the reality that he actually had to face Fiona. He, and all the sins he had accumulated.
He remembered her in the hospital, before she passed. She’d told Even that she didn’t want him chasing answers for how she ended up there, but also, that she wouldn’t be surprised if he did anyway. “You’re a scientist,” she’d said, with that knowing, wise-beyond-her-years smile he’d come to treasure so dearly, “Experiments are what you do.” But he had wondered then, and Vexen had wondered, and Even still wondered now, if that still held true, with all said and done.
She’d been in his heart all that time, after all. He’d carried her with him those twenty long years, even if he hadn’t known it. There was no hiding the things they had done. The things he had done.
There was a bump into his shoulder, and Even tore his gaze away from the sky and back to Fiona. She’d nudged herself into his arm, a quiet way of getting his attention that he was more than accustomed to, coming from her.
“Everything alright? It feels like you have thoughts.”
She looked at him without a hint of resentment, still smiling in her usual manner, and the first thing to cross Even was how much older Fiona looked. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t noticed before, or that he hadn’t aged himself. They all had. But Fiona, in his mind, had been forever cemented as a young woman. He’d never dared to think about what she might have looked like past where his time with her ended, if only to spare himself from the melancholy.
Vaguely, he remembered that Vexen had similar lines of thinking; his memories of Fiona had still been fond, as fond as Vexen could be, but even with the (admittedly, prematurely reached) condition of the Nobody, he had also made it a point to not let his mind wander. She was gone, after all, and trying to imagine what she would have become would have done him no good.
But, oh, here she was, despite all odds, skin still like alabaster and hair like flowing ink. She was ever so slightly taller now, with a few more curves here and there, and she looked more tired–in the darkness of night, Even thought he caught a glimpse of those scars along her tear-troughs–but after everything she’d just been through, he supposed it was only natural she’d be exhausted. He must have looked the same when he’d been recompleted, as well.
Most of all, though, he saw her eyes. Fiona’s eyes had once been cloudy, with only a faint hint of brown around the film, a distant reminder of what they once looked like when they were children. But they’d changed, one way or another, now a grey white from iris to scalera, laced with spinning gears and ciphers. Something familiar, and beautiful, yet new, and alarming.
Just like all of Fiona.
King Oswald had explained this, as best he could–about the eyes, about Axofin. Those eyes were the only remnant left of her time as a Nobody, and they had made her, for all intents and purposes, into a gorgon. And with these eyes, to a point, Fiona could see.
Could she see him, now? Was her glancing at him more than just muscle memory? Did he even want her to look at him?
“Even?”
“I’m glad you were alright.” He’d said it without thinking, muscle memory of his own, and Even cursed himself for being so familiar so soon. It had been little over two decades. He should be taking this slower. Yet it was too easy to slip back into his old habits around her. “That you were… well taken care of. With how much you were at odds with Radiant Garden, it’s a relief.”
“‘At odds’? That’s putting it mildly.” There was a very obvious tease to Fiona’s voice, and Even’s heart relaxed a bit, eased by her casual nature, and the luck that he hadn’t offended. “The Wasteland welcomed me with open arms, and I’ll never forget that.” Her smile turned a little more frank. “I only regret that it was just me.”
“What for?” If Axofin had tried to contact him directly, Xehanort would have must certainly sunk his claws into her the moment she came into his sight; Even had come to that conclusion rather quick, in the midst of King Oswald’s explanations, and she knew it as well as he did. Just imagining Fiona with those accursed, golden eyes made his blood boil; Even was grateful it had been him instead. “You did the right thing, keeping your distance.”
“Mmm, I know… but it got hard to, near the end.”
Fiona brushed back a lock of hair behind her ear. It had long since fallen out of the ponytail Axofin had kept it in, and was now hanging loose along her back in waves. Even wondered why she hadn’t pulled it back already.
“If I could have guaranteed the kind of reaction you’d have, there wouldn’t have been much keeping me away. Positive enough of a response, I might have even planned a return.”
“…You weren’t planning on coming home?”
Even tried not to make his voice sound so dejected, and if he was to say so himself, he didn’t succeed. But Fiona didn’t seem to take any notice, and if she did, she said nothing about it.
Instead, she sighed.
“I didn’t think I’d have a place here. I wasn’t exactly banking on being complete again, after all. My heart is… trickier, than most. Which doesn’t mean much now, given how all these children turned out, but—“ She shrugged. “More hoops to jump through, at another’s expense. You know I couldn’t have it.”
“The little King did mention something like that.” And as curious as he was about it, Even had to admit they’d all studied the heart more than enough for one lifetime, and so he kept his curiosity to himself. “Still, it wouldn’t have hurt to at least have left a breadcrumb, or two.”
“Oh, I was close to doing that, actually. But I’m glad I didn’t, in the end.” Fiona laughed quietly, barely over a titter. “Axofin would have driven Vexen mad, and not in the endearing way. You and I both know that.”
“…True.” He wasn’t about to deny his own high-strung tendencies, nor how they were amplified on Vexen; if the stories he’d heard about Axofin were true, it might have been like dealing with a second Xigbar, in terms of grandiose and just general flippancy. Good God. If Axel hadn’t ended him first, all the popped blood vessels might have. “Memories alone wouldn’t be enough to ensure the same reaction, with what fragile hearts Nobodies grow.”
“There’s really no telling what the reaction would have been. Half the research into Nobodies was manipulated from the word go, anyway.” Fiona paused a beat, and then added, “Even so, I wouldn’t have wanted to make things harder, in that state.”
“For me? Or for yourself?”
“Both.” No hesitation. “You and I–all of us, were in so much pain. And we each overcame it in time, true, but for you and the others, that was always a promise. But if I were to come back still half a person, when the rest of you were whole, what would you have done? After everything you would have been through, would you have welcomed me back? Just like that?”
Even did not answer. He did not know how.
Fiona glanced back at him. Her smile was still there, ever thoughtful, but now just the faintest bit sad. “It isn’t your fault. It’s just the way things turned out. If the tables were turned between us, it very well likely would have been the same.”
He snorted. It was the closest he’d come to a smile himself all night. “I highly doubt that. There isn’t a force on any world that could have told you what to do, or what to think. Not even Xehanort could change that about you.”
“You flatter me. But that isn’t entirely true.”
“Isn’t it? I seem to recall you saying once that the forces that be had to blind you, because if they hadn’t, you would have murdered them at sixteen.”
“Yes, and that is true! But that’s not what I’m talking about.” Fiona lifted herself off the wall, and she stared at Even with soft, quizzical look.
“Even. Has there ever been a time where I told you ‘no’?”
And Even… Even had to think about that.
As many years as it had been since they were last together, his memories with Fiona were still bright and strong, and he reviewed them in silence. She’d been a stubborn girl when she lost her sight, refusing help from anyone that offered that wasn’t family… or him, when he asked to help guide her. And that give and take happened in all walks of their lives thereafter. Schoolwork, their magic studies, personal lives–for a good while, he was helping Fiona get dressed in the mornings, because she was too intent on not being something to pity, and he was too intent on being by her side, just in case.
He remembered the night he asked her to marry him. It was hardly romantic, and more sudden than he would have preferred, but she had been so terrified for a future she didn’t think she’d live to see that it was all he could think to do to show he wasn’t leaving. He’d told her he didn’t need an answer, if she couldn’t give him one–but she’d told him yes without a second thought. Like it was obvious. Like it was as simple for her to do as breathing.
Fiona, to her credit, had never told him ‘no’.
“…Huh.” Even glanced to the ground, rather vacantly, as the realization fully dawned on him. “I hadn’t realized.”
“You sound shocked!” The tease came back to her voice; the twinge of sadness still remained, but at least Fiona was smiling again. “Is it really that surprising? Why would I refuse you?”
The ludicrousness of that question almost gave him whiplash. “I could very easily think of a few reasons, within the last decade alone.”
“We’re all victims of circumstance.” She waved that all off perhaps a bit too casually. Another remnant of Axofin? Or had Fiona just deduced this was coming, and prepared accordingly? “And if I’m to be honest? As morally dubious as the experiments were, none of you ever actually took another person’s heart. Just… pulled out the darkness, as you saw once before. Xehanort was the one that actually extracted the heart from others, and I’m not going to fault you or any of the others for his crimes.”
She paused a moment, then added. “Well. Perhaps I might blame Braig. But the rest of you are in the clear, as far as I’m concerned.”
“You’re far too forgiving.” And Even was far too self-deprecating–much more than he should have allowed himself to be in pleasant company, but for all he knew Fiona might just slip through his grasp again. Best to say what he had to say now, before this dream ended. “It pays to keep an open mind, but this is foolhardy.”
“King Oswald holds very true to the belief that everyone deserves a second chance, and that’s something I agree with. It’s more than I can say for other Keyblade Masters of his generation. And besides--my loyalty to you has always run deeper than my loyalty to Radiant Garden.”
Fiona crossed her arms beneath her chest; she raised one hand to the air, twirling her fingers like she was reciting a poem. “‘For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part’.”
“Ah–” Oh, what a blessing, and a curse, to be able to blush properly! Even’s only saving grace was that Fiona was blind and couldn’t see him so flustered, though who could say how much that held true anymore. “I–why on earth would you bring that into this?”
“Well, I’ve been referring to you as my husband for the last decade to my coworkers.” Again, that all too casual shrug. Did this woman never learn to listen to herself in the past ten years? “Why wouldn’t I bring it up?”
“Your–! Fiona, we never got the chance to have Master Ansem sign the license.” Because like hell did either of them want a ceremony. “We aren’t legally–no, wait. Go back to the part about your coworkers, who were you telling this to?!”
“Oh, you know.” No, I don’t know, he thought, but Fiona started to count off the people on her free hand. “King Oswald and Queen Ortensia, of course, Gus, the Doctor… though in retrospect, it’s highly possible some of them might have thought I was joking.”
“Joking how?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should connect myself back here–the walls have ears, you know how it goes–so I referred to my marital status specifically as ‘married to science’, which… well, it does make it sound like I was saying I was married to my job. But, given that we’re both researches, it also wasn’t entirely incorrect of me! I told no lies, just not a whole truth.”
“Unbelievable.” Even squeezed the bridge of his nose, but despite everything, a smile was still tugging at his mouth, unable to be deterred. “You really couldn’t give a straight answer if you tried, could you?”
“I’ve never had to my whole life, and I don’t intend to start now.”
Fiona sounded far too smug about that. It was… nice, to hear that bravado again. Even sighed, and even that sounded more fond that he would have wanted to show. “Well… I suppose that is something to look forward to, now.”
“What is? The delayed presents from the gift registry?”
“No. Your mouth, your two hands, and your burning, eternal desire to make those everyone else’s problem.”
Fiona’s smugness didn’t last, almost melting away as soon as the words left Even’s mouth. She looked at him, vaguely, and vacantly, and when the thought finally came to him that oh no, this is what did it, this is what ruined it–she started to laugh.
It was startling, almost. Even hadn’t heard that laughter in ages. To think he’d almost forgotten how boisterous she could be. But why now? “You think this is funny?”
“No, no, it just… I suppose I’m just… relieved.”
And it truly did look that way, like a burden Even hadn’t noticed had been lifted off her shoulders. “After all this time… even though we’re all back in one piece, I was so scared of what might happen when we saw each other again. I was preparing for the worst, but, here we are–!”
Her arms gestured widely, between Even and herself. “We went straight from saying our ‘I love you’s, to poking fun at how dedicated I am to being a nuisance.”
Fiona’s laughter fell into elated sighs. Her arms dropped to her sides, and she glanced back at him with an honest smile, hair wiry and wispy around her face, chest heaving, eyes unseeing but looking straight into him. His heart hadn’t been broken, per se, but looking at Fiona–looking at that face of hers so racked with fear and relief and adoration, an expression he’d only seen on her twice before–she had his heart in her hands, and was squeezing it without having to even lift a finger.
Even had noted earlier that, while beautiful, Fiona was so unusual now. Quietly, he retracted that: she was only beautiful.
“It’s so… like us.” There was such emotion in those four words. Emotions and experiences she’d had over the last ten years that Even couldn’t begin to imagine. “We’re still us, Even.”
It was so rare that he, of all people, was left to silence, but that was a power Fiona had always had over him. From when they were children to now, and a part of him was glad that was still so.
Even cleared his throat; it was an awkward sound, a move he normally made around His Lordship in regards to research, or even Ienzo, but here, hopefully, it got across his… lack of a proper response.
He had words planned, a sentence on his lips, but what he heard in his own voice, softly, was “…we did not technically say those.”
Fiona laughed again, more like a breathy chuckle. “And? We’ve never once said them in a ‘normal’ way. Would either of us have been walking on eggshells all this time if it weren’t true?”
He didn’t have a rebuttal for that.
“Still,” Even continued, after another awkward cough, “there is something of a, ah… proper procedure to this… sort of thing.”
Some thirty odd years ago, he would have never considered himself in anything remotely like this position. Love in this sort of venue was just… it wasn’t for him. It was childish, in its own way, and perhaps that’s why it took him so long to realize what he had when it was there. Fiona was his constant companion, so yes, of course he loved her, but for it to run so deep, deeper than he’d ever thought it could run, caught him off-guard.
When had his dedication to her changed so, anyway? It’d been without notice, without warning, and soon, just as much as she could not refuse him, he could not refuse her. He would have guided her to anyplace she wanted to be, would have been her assistant in any field of study she’d chosen, would have worshiped her between her thighs, had she so desired it. He’d pushed all those emotions back as far as he could after she’d passed, in a ditch effort to not drown in that sorrow, but now those carefully locked gates were flung open and he was sinking down in those feelings even more than at first falling. It was like the night he’d asked for her hand all over again.
Except, it was even more, somehow. Perhaps it was due to the sensation of having his true heart back in his chest, or the elation and fear that Fiona still lived. Or perhaps, it was because Fiona had breached the gap between them, and placed her hands on his face.
“Even.”
Their eyes were locked together, and even without the glimmer of those special eyes and their magic, he knew Fiona was looking straight at him. “It has been more than twenty years since we were last physically in the same space together. It’s only you and I out here on this part of the castle grounds. I’ve been referring to you specifically as my husband to anyone who asked. So I need you. To stop talking. And do something about it.”
His eyes widened. Blindness be damned, with his face under her fingertips, she had to have felt the way his cheeks burned at the insistence of that sentence. Fiona had never been a woman who didn’t make her intentions clear on such personal matters, and, seemingly satisfied with the point she had made, gave move to let go of his face.
But Even caught one of her hands just before it left his skin, and pulled it back flush against his cheek.
He’d done it out of instinct, more than anything. That was what he told himself. But as he placed his own hand over hers and squeezed it, ever so gently, it was impossible to ignore what a longing he felt for this. Fiona was warm; she always had been, much warmer than Even had ever been, and while heat was something he’d been trying to block out the sensation of–thank you again, Axel, for that one–he’d almost forgotten natural her hand in his had felt.
“I missed this.”
His voice came out quieter, more shaky than he’d thought it would, and it really, truly struck Even now that, yes, she was here, and yes, he was allowed to feel that longing, and yes, she had felt that, too. He pulled Fiona’s hand down his cheek, just enough to place a kiss on her palm, and he whispered against her skin, “God, I missed you.”
When Even dared to open his eyes again, he saw Fiona, and how she was smiling at him, tears pricking at her eyes, and all of a sudden they were twenty-something again, side by side, brilliant and unstoppable.
“Weren’t you the one always saying it?” She brought her other hand back to his face, and brushed their lips together. It could hardly have been called a kiss, but it didn’t have to be one. “You and I–we’re a team.”
A sword and shield, the perfect pair. Perhaps he’d been professing his love far longer than he’d thought.
That reaffirmation did it, though, and with no further need to worry about what might or might not happen between them in this moment, Even wrapped his arms around Fiona, and she in turn around him. It was a much more tighter, meaningful, desperate embrace than the one they’d shared this morning, but it wasn’t remorseful, like it was the day she died. It was… dare Even describe it, hopeful. Empowering, even. He placed his chin in the crook of her shoulder, and breathed in her scent, sweet like jasmine, and sighed, his heart finally at ease.
He was here. Fiona was here. And they were together.
And then she shivered.
It might not have been noticeable, had they not been so close, but. It had been a rather large shiver, and Even felt the shudder all the way down her back. He also felt the way Fiona tensed after the fact; she must not have been prepared for it either.
He thought about it, and then shook his head, smiling into her shoulder. “…You just couldn’t have picked a better time.”
“Oh, quiet, you!” She gave his back a hearty pat, but she was laughing right along with him. “It’s the middle of the night, of course I’m cold!”
“Why didn’t you wear your lab coat? It was a much thicker one than mine, if I recall.”
“Dilan insisted on repairing it, and then rather conveniently forgot to tell me where the laundry room in the castle was. And with all the twists and turns the castle has, I thought I might actually die again if I tried looking for it.”
“A most unpleasant hyperbole, please refrain from using it in the future.” He pulled away while he chastised, and when free from her hold, Even removed his own lab coat, placing it around Fiona’s shoulders. It was thinner, as he’d noted, but it would do for now. For her warmth, and in some ways, for his own ego.
“Such a gentleman.” She seemed rather pleased with the outcome though, and tugged the lapels a bit tighter over her chest. “Thank you, dear.”
“Honestly, one would think you’d be used to the cold.” Even thought to offer his arm, like normal, but in a sudden surge of boldness, opted instead to place his hand around Fiona’s waist. “How many times were we told we were joined at the hip?”
“Too many.” Fiona rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to guide her from behind. “But this isn’t cold to me. It never was.”
“Hmm.” Even said, but it came out more like a “hum”, which was perhaps unfitting of a scientist of his caliber, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You certainly pick the strange ones.”
“Then that must go doubly for you.”
“It always has.”
He squeezed her waist, just enough to pull her closer without making her stop. “Truly, I… I’m glad you’re back. It would take a million lifetimes for me to understand how you are, I’m sure. But I’m grateful I didn’t have to wait until death stuck to see you again.”
“Oh, Even, stop that, now.”
Fiona did stop walking here, and beat the back of her hand against his chest lightly. “I know I made light of it before, but no more joking about dying, or hopelessness, or futility, alright? From you or me.”
She unfurled her pointer finger, poking Even in the collar on every beat. “We’re going to get back into that lab, we’re going to continue our research, we’re going to set this town back on the right path... and then!” Her tone turned devious, almost conspiratorial, “We’re going to have sex on every flat surface in Radiant Garden. And I would love to see someone try and stop us this time.”
And here, finally, Even burst into uncontrollable laughter. For the love of the powers that be, he’d never be used to those sudden, tactless proclamations. And he never wanted to be. “F-Fio, you’re too much.”
“Call me greedy.” He felt her lips on his cheek again–perhaps a bit lower than their intended mark, it hit close to his jawline, but still. “I worked a long time to ensure you got a happy ending, and now that I actually get to be in it, we’re going to have it, no matter what.”
“Is that a threat, or a promise?”
“What do you want it to be?”
“Both.” No hesitation. “I do so admire a woman that would kill the gods that made her without hesitation.”
“Not until I’ve gotten them to share the secrets of cold fusion. I have to bring you back a souvenir.”
“Oh, darling, show me the means to manipulate dark matter, and I might not be able to control myself.”
A happy ending, indeed.
~
(“Say,” Fiona said, her arms and legs tangled together with his as they laid in his bed, “I just thought of something.”
Even rose from barely-there slumber,idly rubbing strands of her hair in his fingers; he wondered distantly if he still remembered how to braid her hair. “Mm?”
“We had everything set up to just have Lord Ansem sign our marriage certificate, and have that be that. That’s still more than fine with me, but do you think we can, anymore?”
“Hm… we could certainly try,” That was a good point, actually, but alas, “But I doubt we’ll be getting anything past Aeleus this time. And given the circumstances, he won’t stand for there not being a ceremony.”
“Ohh, why would you say that. I can’t argue The Aeleus Factor.”
“He’d make it an appropriate affair.” Even offered, and placed a kiss on her forehead, simply because he could. Drunk on power, truly. “If I’m correct, it’d be the first wedding since the restoration concluded. A bit more celebration could hardly be a bad thing, in such times.”
“We’ll just have to take one for the team.” She sighed, and one of her hands found its way over his body, lazily tracing circles in the small of his back. “I suppose those boys wouldn’t want that honor right away. Not until Isa’s scar heals, at least. I imagine it wouldn’t be a very fun thing to find in the photo album.”
“Understandable.” Even paused for a second, as though sleep was claiming him once more, and then added, “Just don’t expect me to wear black.”
“Oh? What if I wore black, then?” Fiona’s voice lilted with amusement at the idea. “I could take your old coat, and Queen Ortensia could help me make it into a dress. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Fio. Could I divorce you before actually marrying you?”
“Good luck. If you couldn’t get rid of me the first time, it’s not happening the second.”
Even shook with silent laughter, and smiled into her hair. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”)
