CHAPTER NINETEEN

Demyx slowed to a quick walk as he reached the crowd of students leaving by the front gates, short of breath from his jog across campus. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of red just outside the academy property – Auron waited, a hand tucked into his robes, his bearing holding just a hint of tension, suggesting to Demyx they needed to haul ass to the bus station.

He hurried to the man's side, ducking where necessary between students who didn't notice him, but otherwise finding a passage opening up for him, allowing for a quick exit. He ignored the searing, frightened looks and forced a bright smile as he reached Auron. "Heya! Sorry to keep you waiting!"

The man turned his one-eyed gaze onto him, eyebrow raised. "Actually, I'm impressed you remembered I was coming. I expected to have to waylay you as you came out. You surprised me, running over the way you did."

Demyx blinked, scratched the back of his head. "Ah, yeah, I was having a, uh, conversation with someone and it just hit me all at once. I'd forgotten until then. Good thing, otherwise you'd have been waiting for a while!"

Auron's gaze narrowed slightly at the abrasive forced cheer in the blond's voice. He knew it well, but also knew better than to question it. He glanced at his wristwatch. "Okay. Let's go."

They started walking, silent at first as they made their way through the after-school crowds. Auron's steps were steady, the heaviness of each footfall a comfort to Demyx as he concentrated on keeping up with each long stride. Auron was always so – so calm, so collected. It made Demyx feel wistful; he couldn't ever imagine being as together as that. Even before his world had gone to hell and he'd arrived at Midgar, he'd never been as steady as Auron. The guy just radiated stability. That was probably what made him so good at what he did; with his placid yet somehow forbidding presence close by, Demyx never felt at risk. And after the week Demyx had had so far… he needed this. He needed a little bit of security, for once.

After a while of walking, Auron asked, facing straight ahead, "How was your day?" It was asked mildly, disinterestedly, like he was making conversation. But Auron wasn't the type for idle conversation; everything he said had purpose behind it. Otherwise, he stayed silent.

Demyx considered the question, wearily. Wasn't he going to have to go through all this with Lucrecia, anyway…? "Tiring," he truthfully answered. "Long."

Auron gave him a brief, searching look. "You look it," he remarked, at length. "Tired." After a few more steps, he asked, "How's the pain?"

Demyx looked down at himself, at the scabbed-over scrapes on his forearms, knowing that his face still looked like a mess. Even Seifer had commented on it. He was glad that it hadn't given him any ideas about adding to the palette of fading but still prominent blues, greens, and emerging yellows. "It hasn't been bothering me. The worst is over. It's not comfortable, but…"

"Manageable," Auron concluded, sounding satisfied with such a response. If there was anything Auron expressly approved of, it was stoic pragmatism. The one person who wouldn't approve of such an attitude was Lucrecia. He would have to tailor his response accordingly. If Demyx acted in a way that reminded her of Auron, she'd get annoyed. Demyx was learning to behave how people wanted him to; it made life a lot easier when he did.

It was a fifteen minute walk to the bus station from the academy, the blond feeling worn out already after all the running he'd done during gym. He could smell the perspiration clinging to his skin, and hoped that it wasn't too strong. He wished he'd had time for a quick shower before leaving the school – not that he could actually face the idea of stripping off in public. Locker room woes were nothing new, but uh, being naked in that place was just one extra level of vulnerability he wasn't willing to voluntarily embark upon. He would just have to smell ripe every now and again.

They reached the station, Auron leading the way onto the bus, since having Demyx just pop up out of nowhere tended to startle people. Although the vehicle was starting to fill up, a seat opened up as if by magic when the duo appeared, the tattoos on the blond's left arm blazing a trail through the clog of people. As usual, Demyx sat by the window, Auron a shielding presence at his side, protecting him from the aisle. Thinking back on the woman who'd slapped him on Monday, Demyx knew that people like that could strike at any time. He didn't blame them – honestly, he didn't – but it still wasn't any fun.

As the bus rumbled into motion, Demyx stared pensively out the long window at the shifting city, finally given some space to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He had to try and figure out what to say to Lucrecia; usually, he had longer to sort his head out before a session with her. The fact that he'd forgotten about this until practically the last minute left him teetering on the back foot. She'd be expecting a substantial report from him, expecting some kind of progress, and so much had happened just since Saturday that it was almost dizzying to try and get it all straight.

The thing that stuck foremost in his mind was the prospect of having to get a job. That was definitely the urgent matter he needed to discuss with her. Auron had done his best, it seemed, but hadn't achieved a reprieve for Demyx; so his only real hope left was Lucrecia.

He struggled to remember the conversation with Zexion, the advice that the man had given him for this meeting. The problem was, when he started thinking about Zexion and their lunch together… he started to get a prickling feeling at the back of his neck that maybe he'd said a few unnecessary things. Like, blurting out that he was gay and then just rambling about it. Rambling in general. Oh, God.

"Demyx, you're turning pink."

Auron's observation wasn't helping.

"Just warm," he said, voice a little on the high side as he determinedly didn't look over at the man. "Lots of people on the bus. Unexpected hot flush."

Auron grunted slightly at that. Yes, the bus's heating was on, and yes there were a lot of people… but Demyx didn't have sleeves. Being overly warm wasn't an affliction he often complained about. Still, the man wasn't interested enough not to press him. Turning pink wasn't going to constitute a security threat to anyone else on the bus.

Demyx closed his eyes and took a breath. Relax… it's okay… Zexion wouldn't care about that stuff… he was fine at the time… He wrestled his thoughts back to the more urgent concern, smothering his belated embarrassment and concentrating on the content of Zexion's words rather than his own. What he needed to do was be clear with Lucrecia – very clear. He had to make her understand that he wasn't ready for a step like employment… not to mention having to see Hojo. If anyone could, or was going to, help him, it was her.

…If she was able.

The bus eventually deposited Demyx and Auron outside the psychiatric hospital, Demyx feeling that familiar swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of it. Along with that came a tingle of nerves, but he was prepared, and determined. He had to at least try.

Leaving Auron behind on the ground floor, he travelled up to the locked ward, Vincent on duty as per usual in the nurses' station. Demyx was given a temporary nametag and buzzed through, his pace rapid as he made his way stiffly along the corridors to Lucrecia's office.

She had glasses on, writing carefully in a folder when Demyx knocked and entered. Lifting her head, she smiled automatically, gesturing him in with a gentle wave of her hand. "Demyx, it's good to see you." When, a few seconds later, she registered the state of his appearance, the smile dropped. "Oh," she uttered quietly, and in that one sound he heard sadness and shock. She'd known, of course, about what happened. Auron would have had to tell them all. But hearing about it and seeing it were evidently two different things; Lucrecia looked stricken at the sight of his myriad bruises.

"It's not as bad as it seems," he quickly said, before she could comment. "They've healed up some, and the pain's not terrible."

Lucrecia sighed deeply, her mouth sagging at the corners, expression heavy. Again, she gestured to him, more tiredly this time. "Take a seat, Demyx."

As he closed the door, she lowered her pen. When she didn't then shuffle around for anything else on her desk, or close the file she'd been writing in, Demyx realised with a thread of unease that she'd been working on his file. He hadn't even been here yet, and she'd been writing something. Was that bad or good? He felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders tighten.

He drew back the chair in front of her desk and sat down. Lucrecia took a long moment to absorb his appearance, before shaking her head, tugging off her glasses and placing them on the desk. "Oh, Demyx." It was said softly, helplessly. "How are you? This must have been a rattling experience."

"Oh, well, sure, I guess." Demyx fidgeted, fingernails picking at the rough fabric of his bag. "But, you know, it wasn't unexpected. And the damage wasn't – wasn't too bad. Just some scrapes and bruises. I've been beaten up before." Albeit not by people who loathed him with quite the aggression of Midgar dwellers. That part had been a little more frightening.

"It's a shame that the perpetrators weren't brought to justice," Lucrecia said, with uncharacteristic sharpness. It didn't last long, however. She shook her head, her high ponytail swaying faintly, and for a moment simply looked sad. "It will get better." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was Demyx. "It has to." Helplessly, for lack of anything else to do, Demyx shrugged. He then stiffened as Lucrecia asked, "Do you feel angry towards the ones who attacked you?"

"Oh, no! Not at all!" Demyx was quick to wave the notion away, experiencing a spark of panic as he did so. He could feel his pulse suddenly jumping at his throat. "I mean, I'm sure if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd have wanted to do the same sort of thing – not, not that I've ever actually attacked anyone, or ever would, it's not in my nature, never has been, I would never…" His words became a hurried jumble, then abruptly stopped. He laced his fingers nervously together, clearing his throat, acutely aware of her gaze on him. "No, ma'am. I'm not angry. It's to be expected."

She nodded slightly. "I suppose that's true. It's good that you don't harbour resentment."

"No, ma'am," he quickly confirmed, watching her for signs of scepticism. Lucrecia, however, took him at his word. She did not appear suspicious, and as she continued, he exhaled the slightest breath of relief.

"Well, as much as I would like to focus on this one event at greater length, for now we'll have to postpone it." She adjusted her glasses, grimacing as she glanced down at the file on her desk. "Now, about this employment issue…"

Ah – so that's what that file was about. Demyx felt a confusing mix of relief and concern. It was good to know she wasn't writing strange things about him, but – employment.

"Ah, about that –"

Before he could go on, she interrupted, "I'm sorry, Demyx. There's no getting around it."

He stared with ill-suppressed horror. She was his only hope, and she was shutting him down before he could even get going. "No, Lucrecia, please wait – please, just hear me out…"

She said patiently, but firmly, "Demyx, I understand that this must be a frightening prospect for you –"

"Frightening? How about – how about terrifying?" He gripped the lip of the desk and leaned inward, gazing desperately into her sympathetic face. "Lucrecia, you don't understand – I can't do this. It's way too soon. It's way too much. I'm – I'm still just learning how to be in this world,and I was enrolled in the school just a week and a bit ago. How can anyone think I'm ready for a job all of a sudden?"

"Demyx – Demyx, hush." She made a dampening motion with her hands, the blond sucking his lips into his mouth as he realised how excited he was getting. He made a concerted effort to settle down, but Lucrecia wasn't making it easy as she went on, "I understand your concerns, but there is simply no way around it. It's not a rule I made, and neither is it one I can argue against. Sir Auron tried, and I commend him for that effort, but ShinRa is quite explicit that six weeks is long enough for a ward of the company to benefit from financial aid. Your stipend is being cut, Demyx, and if you don't work to supplement it, and start paying back the money ShinRa has loaned you to date, you simply won't survive."

"But… but…" But that's not fair! But I never asked for ShinRa's help, or their money! But how will I survive in a workplace? All thoughts that flitted through his head, none of which he had the nerve to say. In the end, all he could do was plead, "But isn't there any other way? I have this teacher at the school who said it might take my focus away from my studies…"

"What's that? You've been discussing ShinRa business with an outsider?" Lucrecia frosted over. "Demyx, you know that's frowned upon. You shouldn't be talking about this sort of thing with outsiders. And anyway, who does this teacher think they are? They've no knowledge of our rules or workings. I myself believe you fully capable of juggling both work and studies, and if I believe that, a mere schoolteacher has no place saying otherwise. Who is this teacher? What's their name?"

Demyx gulped and looked away, alarmed by her sudden interest in Zexion. "N-no, nothing, it doesn't matter who he is – I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I didn't even mean to mention anything." He glanced down at his tangled fingers, fidgeting as he spoke. "I was just worried about the whole… job thing, and he noticed and asked, but it's just because he's trying to be supportive of me…" He darted an anxious look up at Lucrecia. "I won't make that mistake again, he's nobody important enough for you to bother about. Really."

She sighed a little, conscious of his concern. "…Well, I suppose I can let it slide. I'm pleased that you have a supportive teacher, but please, refrain from discussing internal matters with him, or anyone else other than myself, Auron, or Professor Hojo."

Demyx nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Yes, ma'am. It won't happen again."

"And as for the job – there's no changing it. This is how it is." The sternness that had overcome her face at the mention of Zexion's interference softened at the sight of Demyx shrinking into his chair. Her voice gentle, she said, "I'm sorry, Demyx."

He closed his eyes, took a slow, deep breath, and nodded. "Right. I see." His tone was light. "If that's how it is, then that's how it is."

"I heard from Auron that you're already aware of the place you'll be working?"

Forcing his eyes back open, keeping as cheery a tone as possible, he answered, "Yep, yep. We go there for coffee all the time. It's as nice a place as any."

Lucrecia stared at him for a long moment, her pity palpable. Demyx felt like he was smothering all of a sudden – pity did him no good. Pity was nothing but trouble. Pity from others made him think that maybe it was okay to feel pity for himself, and self-pity right now would… it would tear him apart.

"So!" The sudden volume of his voice jolted them both, out of place in the room and conversation. "Whatever happened to me getting to wear sleeves?"

The abrupt subject change appeared to confuse Lucrecia. "Oh – that again?"

"Well, it's still winter, and I'm still freezing my ass off!" Demyx gritted his teeth as soon as he said it – it sounded sarcastic, he could hear it. He had to rein it in. "Uh, that is – I was really hoping for permission so that the cold doesn't get to me like it does."

Lucrecia touched her fingertips together, thinking for a moment. "I've discussed the issue both with my superiors and with Sir Auron. He became reasonably passionate on the topic, in fact – it seems that you've been suffering with the low temperatures lately." Demyx nodded a little, grateful to Auron. "It has been left to my discretion to decide, with the awareness that any failure on your part to follow protocol reflects directly on me." She said this part soberly, Demyx feeling his heart sink – until she smiled. "Very well, Demyx. But I have conditions."

Demyx could have cheered – sleeves! Real clothes! No more cold! "Yes! Of course!"

"No heavy coats – nothing that runs the risk of obscuring your tattoos. What this means is that you may wear form-fitting items, such as thermals or close-fitting sweatshirts, with the proviso that you shear the left sleeve off from the shoulder." Demyx nodded eagerly. "Also, you may wear vests over the top to insulate your core, so long as they do not overlap your shoulder in any way."

"They won't!" He was breathless with excitement. "I promise!"

Lucrecia huffed a small laugh. "Well, then – at least that's a piece of good news, isn't it?"

The tension of Zexion's involvement in ShinRa affairs was all but forgotten by the woman, Demyx feeling able to relax a little throughout the rest of the session. Although the conversation veered back towards the subject of the job, now that he knew there was no avoiding it, he stoically took part in discussing with Lucrecia hypothetical situations and his plans for how to cope with the new strain in his life. There was no point in arguing further, and he didn't want to incur her wrath on Zexion again. Disheartened though he was about the employment idea, the fact that he was going to be warm for once was currently overshadowing any doubts or fears he might have felt. Those would come later.

Encouraged as he was by Lucrecia's agreeability over his clothing situation, and her satisfaction with his current obedience, Demyx ventured, as the session was coming to a close, "Say – Lucrecia?"

"Yes, Demyx." She was gathering the various papers on her desk together, to slide into his file and into a drawer.

"I was wondering – is it all right if I start a journal?"

She blinked, looking up doubtfully over her glasses at him. "A journal? Of your current experiences?"

"N-no, I don't really… need to write all that stuff down." Demyx had no desire to keep a record of his life – it was kind of hard enough just living it, without having to scribble it all down later. "Actually, I was wondering if it's okay if I… if I write about my world."

Her eyebrows rising, Lucrecia sat back a little, looking thoughtful. "Your world, you say…?"

"Not – not the bad stuff. Or, like, not the… recent stuff." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his skin prickle. "Just – the things I remember. The things that are… gone now. Like, the animals. And the instruments. And some of the places, and, and the stuff I know about its history." He licked his lips, met her gaze plaintively. "It's just… if I don't, it's all going to be lost, isn't it? I know you can't tell me about other – other survivors, but I don't know if anyone else will think of it. And even if they do, they might remember different things to me. I just… don't want it to be completely lost. Or – or remembered completely badly. Does that – make sense? Or sound okay…?"

The pity was back on Lucrecia's face, but rather than the refusal he was half expecting, she inclined her head in approval. "Very well. I'll have to keep an eye on its contents, if that's all right with you, but otherwise I see no problem. Just – be careful, Demyx. Don't write anything down that might reflect poorly on you."

With a rush of gratitude, he agreed readily. "Of – of course. I'll show it to you as much as you want, and I won't – make myself look bad, or, or crazy or anything. I just – thank you." He beamed at her, Lucrecia smiling in return.

As he left her office and made his way back to the hospital entrance, Demyx was practically walking on air. He was allowed clothes, and a journal. This was like an overload of good things. When Auron saw him emerge from the elevator, he looked almost startled at the change in his ward's bearing, Demyx half-giggling at the surprise on his usually passive face.

Bad things were happening, bad things happened all the time. He was sore where he'd been beaten up, and he still had to get a job, and see Hojo this coming weekend, and deal with school crap and life crap and the loss of his world and the guilt…

But hell. At least he'd be warm.