My first fanfic!

w00t.

Eventual AxelRoxas (and maybe other pairings too, I'm not sure yet)

A little inspired by Markus Zusak's The Book Thief.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, it's all Disney/SquareEnix/whoever's.

Blue Eyes

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Axel collapsed, falling backward into the red mud of the battlefield. He stared up at the dark sky as cold rain covered him, mixing with the blood and dirt on his face and running into his eyes. He felt torn apart, and his leg was burning. The soldier Axel had been struggling with lay on the ground several feet to his side. Axel could see him if he tilted his head a little to the right.

The blonde soldier was struggling to load a small pistol.

'Don't make this so hard,' Axel wished silently, reaching a hand into one of the many pockets on his uniform and extracting a knife.

He turned over on his side to face the slightly smaller man and began pulling himself along, crawling over bodies and bits of debris, the mud and gore clinging to his hands. The blonde saw him coming and became desperate, frantically trying to jam bullets into the gun.

'It's just the two of us, buddy. You and me.'

Axel closed the distance between himself and his target, every movement causing him agony. His left leg refused to obey him, a useless addition he was forced to drag along; each inch he crawled made the limb feel more like splintering wood.

'I'm sorry.'

Axel was nearly on top of the enemy soldier, who was still fiddling with the dirty, useless pistol. Axel wrenched the thing from his hands and flung it to the side. The young soldier sat up and wrapped a pale hand around Axel's arm, pleading. He looked up and met Axel's bright green eyes, his own aquamarine blue ones filled with fear and anxiety. Axel looked away.

He slid the knife into the blue eyed soldier-- into his side and under his ribcage.

The blonde's mouth parted slightly as he gasped. He let go of Axel and slowly lowered himself to the ground, his eyes wide.

'I'm sorry.'

Axel wiped a large smudge of mud from the other boy's face.

'You're smaller than me. And younger than me, I bet. And I've done this a hundred times before. I'm sorry, because you never had a chance.'

Light blue eyes gouged into him, accusing and questioning. Axel closed them.

He leaned back on one elbow and ran a hand through his muddy hair. From what he could see, he was the only living man around. The rain fell harder.

"Damn," he murmured.

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"Axel? Axeeeeel? Hey, man. You in there?"

A hand tapped against Axel's head and he reached to swat at it.

"Whoa! Someone's awake. About time, too. I was going crazy. There's no one to talk to around here," a chirpy voice said excitedly.

Axel kept his eyes shut, frowning. 'I hate chirpy voices.'

"Open 'em up, Ax. I'm your best friend, and the savior of your life, I might add. I know you like I know myself. Only better."

"Shut up, Demyx. You're hurting my head, so stop talking. And when did you become my savior, exactly?" Axel questioned.

Demyx grinned. "When the trucks started loading up and I realized you weren't there."

Axel opened his eyes to give his friend a disbelieving look.

"Yup, that's right," Demyx continued. "I ran around, slogging through mud and dead bodies to find you. And when I did, you were out cold, and I had to carry you back. Well, it was more like dragging you, but you know what I mean. If you weren't so damn tall…" he trailed off, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "I got back just as the trucks were rolling out. Lucky for us."

Axel shut his eyes again. Demyx amazed him sometimes. Axel wanted to hug him and praise him and maybe even kiss him, but he settled for something more nonchalant.

He cracked open one startling green eye. "Thanks, Dem."

"Hey, no problem. Need a hundred and thirty pound body carried half a mile? Just call me," he chuckled, laughing at himself. He stopped suddenly, his laughter falling off into silence, and pulled something out of his pocket.

"Axel, when I found you, you were holding on to some kid real tight. I went through his pockets quick to see if there was anything worth taking, but all he had was a photo. I thought… you might… you know, want it?"

Axel took the picture carefully. He held it by the edges, as if afraid that one touch would render the already bloodstained photo indiscernible.

It was a family portrait. The soldier that Axel had knifed stood next to his father, while his mother sat in front of them with a young child on her lap. The blue eyed kid was smiling; he looked altogether different from the scared, soiled man he had killed.

Axel stared at it. He sighed and put the photo face down on his bedside table. Demyx unfolded his hands and put one on top of Axel's head, running his fingers through the bright red hair, combing out some of the larger knots.

Demyx pursed his lips. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to go get you some food?"

"No, I hate hospital food. I'd rather starve," he said dryly. "Besides, if I wanted some food, I'd just go get it myself."

Demyx looked at Axel doubtfully. "I dunno," he started, looking unsure.

Axel narrowed his eyes, reading the look on Demyx's face. "What do you mean, Dem?"

"Axel, I-" Demyx stopped, biting his lip. He started again. "Axel, you've been in here for over a week. I've been sitting here almost the whole time." He avoided looking Axel in the eye.

Axel nodded. "Spit it out, Dem. You know I can't stand beating around the bush."

"I was there for your surgery, Ax."

"What surgery?"

"The one for your leg. It's… not good, Axel," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.

"Well," Axel said lowly, getting impatient, "just how bad is it?"

"They don't think you'll be able to walk again," Demyx said bluntly. "At least not without crutches," he added, looking up to gauge Axel's reaction.

Axel's head swam.

'Am I dreaming? Please let this be my conscience punishing me by giving me horrible nightmares. It's just karma, biting me in the ass. Let me be dreaming,' Axel thought fervently, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart sank down to his stomach, a feeling he normally associated only with the anxiety of a parachute drop or a charge across enemy lines; it felt strange to have such strong emotion in a blank, un-stimulating place such as this.

He could feel long, calloused fingers pulling gently at his hair, stroking his face, running over his closed eyes.

"It's okay, Ax," Demyx whispered by his ear, "I'm here. I'll be here."

Axel felt a strong hand grasp his and eventually fell back into sleep. He dreamt only of blue eyes that night.

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Good? Okay? Absolutely horrible?

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