Summary: "The idea that all this time we merely had to die to be given our hearts back, laughable, and we weren't laughing." Years after the end of Organization XIII, certain loose knots and fallen kings are on the mend. Xemnas/Saix

Rufio: First off, to make things clear right off the bat, I have molested, raped, and Stockholm syndrome-d the HELL out of what happened in kingdom hearts so that this fiction would make sense. The first person who defies my logic I'm going to eat.

Pre-Chapter notes:

- I WILL explain Ansem

- I WILL explain everything else

- You WILL donate to my charity.

Disclaimer: No shit not mine or else Sora…pfft…WHAT Sora…

Warnings: Slash obviously, violence, dead blonde kings, abuse of Ansem's personality, abuse of Xemnas, house wife Xemnas (eventually), Pedophile bear!, Violence, cursing, eventually sex, and death, and anger, and werewolves, and my own interpretation on where the HELL everyone came from.

Have fun darlings…

Song inspiration for this Prologue: "Muscle Museum" -Muse

Choices were made, accompanied by decisions and delusions. A dream, perhaps a wish, granted only by the death of others. We killed those people, perhaps not directly, but we did. Sent our shadow soldiers to devour them, to end them, simply so we could be real once more. We took away their hearts, in hopes to gain ours. We longed to fill the emptiness of our chests, the gaping, rusted hole in our bodies that creaked with each haunting breeze. We thought, we believed, that by destruction and ruin we'd be given back what was taken from us. Our old lives, our families and friends; we wanted them back.

So we damaged that around us for selfish goals.

We killed and created more like us. Lesser beings just as empty as us.

Took and tormented the lives of children, put mere kids in the line of our blood soaked path

Victory was so simple, so clean and there, staring us in the face. Just one more heart, one more plan, just one more time knowing one of our "own" died and it would be alright.. We would be whole.

We were all defeated by a boy…a mere child that we had strung up like a marionette.

Perhaps it was for the best.

Though, the idea that all this time we merely had to die to be given our hearts back, laughable, and we weren't laughing.

Collateral

The pain came first, numb overtaken by the overwhelming shock of waking nerves after a long sleep. Tendrils of fire wrapped around each vein, cutting into the marrow, causing each inch of flesh to throb. He would have screamed but his body was not cooperating, refusing, denying his control. There was fabric at his fingertips once the flesh stopped peeling away, cushion on his back, and something frigid at his neck. He screamed, finally able to hear more then the thrashing of his terrified heart. He could feel the tremors of panic rushing his system, the uncertainty and terror…And worst of all…

He could feel.

"Stop!" The voice sounded foreign to him, unfamiliar, but it was a voice that was screaming what he was thinking as hands began to smooth over screaming flesh. "STOP!"

"Xem--s-" The struggling male heard bits of another's voice. "Si---cal---own. Plea--." He continued to fight regardless of the cool rush his mind suffered at the voice. "Xe--as---aix----sir---" Pain. Such great pain. He wondered vaguely if this was hell, did Nobodies quality for hell anyways? There was such agony here, confusion, feelings, emotions! His skull felt ready to tear in two while sweat soaked every inch of his skin and he was shaking. Why did this hurt? Who was he? Why were none of his Organization protecting him? What Organization? They all died. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, only adding to the screeching of his bones and acidic blood. They're all dead for you.

"SIR!" His eyes shot open and the light cut them in half. Noises, most commonly found in pets after tails had been crushed under heel of neglectful owners, burst from his dark lips and the male attempted to sit up and cover his eyes. More of the first faceless voice, and another joined. This one did not give off the radiant calm of the first, instead sent a burning sensation straight down his spine. Out of unknown reflex he began to swing at the regal second voice, wanting to catch it, crush it, devour it. That voice, it hurt more so then his exposed nerves and mangled bones all together. A hint of cloak, his strong hand scrambling to wrap a grip in the fabric, yank the bastard closer and…He had no idea who this was…but strangulation sounded fair.

"Sir, stop." The first voice again, his wrist was caught up in an unusually cool grip and pulled away from his targeted cloth. The limb was forced with impeccable strength to join the bed and lay at his side where it was pinned by the foreign vice of the other's hand. He muttered out a few demands, wanting explanations, answers, and even strangely questioned the state of some heart? There was silence, he turned to face the first voice and began to open his eyes. The light did not scald as much as before, yet the world was ablaze in a smear of whites and yellows as pupils struggled to adjust. A hint of blue came into focus, his vision tunneling slowly into clarity. Dark blue, midnight sky blue which framed a pale face, long thin lips hardly visible with how straight they were. He blinked, clearing his sight further, demanding to know the face of the cold voice. A sharp nose, carved cheek bones and…His eyes widened as he saw dark lashes that framed the most predator of glowing yellow eyes that could never change, and a scar that could never heal…no matter what body, heartless, or nothingness the man was. He stared, the other stared back before pulling away almost shakily from pinning the suffering other to the bed. It was a bed, a bed in an unfamiliar place, with an unfamiliar ceiling, and most of all an unfamiliar sight.

"Saix," Xemnas finally spoke, frowning at how his voice had changed, not knowing why or how. The short haired male, with the too dark of hair and far too slouched of stature for his number seven, perked slightly, raising yellow eyes that held pain in them: as though the name was a punishment.

"Yes Superior?" Saix's voice was the same.

"You cut your hair." And Xemnas, leader of Organization XIII, Lord of Naught, King of the emptiness…passed out.

The scarred male stared down at his once superior for the longest time before he dared to breathe, reaching over to begin adjusting the blankets that the dark skinned male had mused in his pain.

"He recognized you rather quickly."

"Yes."

Ansem the Wise noted as he fused over a wrinkle in his cloak. "Are you surprised? None of the others responded so, vigorously."

"He is stronger then most." The man once known as Saix stated simply, wolf eyes daring the blonde king to open his mouth again. "We are lucky he is weak. I could not control him before." The king's eyes watched carefully as pale hands obsessively smoothed the blanket over the sleeping male. As though a mere wrinkle would disturb his sleep.

"Ah, I suppose your right." Ansem nodded and began to head towards the other room upon hearing his tea kettle calling "I always found the best way to shut him up though, was a good bop on the head and shoving an ice cream bar in his mouth, then walking away as he hissed."