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Entry tags:
Completion Part 2
Title: Completion
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Side story to Burning Heart. After his rebirth as a complete person, Even returns to Castle Oblivion, looking for a distraction. Instead of research notes, he finds the last surviving Vexen Replica and takes it in. How will the Replica adjust to life outside the lab? Can the damage caused by a difficult early life and months of isolation be undone?
Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish I owned Kingdom Hearts. At least then I could fix some of the inconsistencies and spackle the worst of the plot holes.
"M... ma... master." No. 47 gurgled as Master looked him over. The four day old Replica looked to No. 23 for approval and was met with a smile and an encouraging nod.
"Has it learned to walk yet?" Master asked No. 23, who nodded.
"He just started to walk earlier today, Master."
"A day late then."
"Yes, Master."
"Show me."
No. 23 helped him down from the exam table. "Show Master that you can walk. 47." No. 47 smiled happily; he liked it when No. 23 talked to him. No. 23 moved to the other side of the room and gestured him forward. "Come here, 47. Show Master your walk."
No. 47 wobbled a bit on legs that were still somewhat unsteady, and then he took a step forward, followed by a second, and then a third. He toddled towards No. 23, who was still holding his hand out to him, but he had only covered half the distance when he missed a step and fell. He wailed in pain when his chin struck the hard floor, and Master, who was standing close by, pulled him back to his feet.
"Stop your squalling, No. 47. You are uninjured." Sniffling, No 47 snuggled against Master, who stiffened.
"Master." he gurgled again as he nestled against Master's black coat, but Master shoved him away. The shove sent him tumbling down back to the floor, and he landed hard against a nearby counter. He wailed in pain again and began to cry. He saw No. 23 moving towards him, and he reached out, wanting to be picked up, but before No. 23 could reach him, Master's hand clamped down on his arm and dragged him to his feet.
"There is no excuse for such infantile behavior, No. 47! Now cease this bawling at once!"
The angry tone only made him cry louder, and Master made an angry sound and dragged him across the room to a small closet. He opened the door, and No. 47 wailed a third time as he was thrown into the small, dark space. "You can stay in there until you've learned how to act!"
"Master!" he sobbed as the door slammed, leaving him alone in the dark closet, and he heard Master talking angrily to No. 23.
"It stays in there for the rest of the day. This is its final chance. If it is not out of this state tomorrow, you will be throwing it into the incinerator, while it is still alive! And then you will follow! Now return to your normal duties. Do not come into this room until I say you can let it out."
"Yes, Master." said No. 23 quietly, and No. 47 banged on the door and cried as he heard footsteps walking out of the room, leaving him crying, scared and alone, in the closet. He beat harder against the door and cried as loud as he could, but there was no answer. No. 23 did not pick him up and hold him like he had before, and No. 47 felt the pain in his heart when he realized that he had been left behind. He banged on the door and cried until his hands and throat hurt, and No. 23 still did not come back.
Finally, too tired to keep up such a ruckus, No. 47 plopped himself down on the floor, sniffling, and rubbed at his eyes. His head hurt, his nose was stuffy, and he was so scared. He curled up in a ball close to the door and rocked himself back and forth, while trying to pretend that it was No. 23 that was rocking him. He cried a bit more, but after a while, he fell silent.
When the door finally opened hours later, he was hungry and tired and thirsty, he had wet himself, and he was cold and sore from lying on the floor for so long. No. 23's warm arms gently gathering him up were such a relief that he began to cry again, and he snuggled close to No. 23's warm body.
No. 23 held him and gently wiped his tears away. "You need to quiet down, 47. If Master hears you crying again, he'll throw you back in there. You need to hush." He gently pressed No. 47's face into his shoulder to muffle his cries, and stood up with him. "I can't carry you anymore. You have to walk from now on. Come now, let's walk to the bathroom so I can get you cleaned up and into dry clothes. Then you can have some dinner, and then you're going to bed."
No. 47 shuffled along, sniffling quietly, and by the time he was bathed and fed, he was quiet, and he tried to walk to his room to go to bed. But No. 23 pulled him in a different direction.
"No, 47, that's not your bed anymore. You have to sleep in the storage room with the rest of us. Come along now."
He whined in protest and tried to go that way regardless, but No. 23 kept tugging him in the opposite direction until he began to cry in frustration.
"You need to stop, 47, before Master hears you." No. 47 looked at No. 23 with tears running down his face, and the other Replica held him and kissed him lightly on the top of his head. "I know, I know, but that's not your room anymore. You have to sleep with me and the others from now on."
He walked him through the open door into the large storage room then, and the other Replicas were already there, settling down for the night. No. 8 was there as well, and No. 47 hid his face in No. 23's hair as the oldest Replica spoke to the other.
"I convinced Master to give him more time." No. 8 said "but he is still irritated at the failure. I have excused you from all lab duties for the next two days, so that you may spend more time with him and hopefully get him to catch up."
"Thank you, No. 8. I hope it's enough."
"Mm-hmm," No. 47 felt something soft being draped over him then, a blanket, he realized. "This is for him. I imagine that he's had enough of lying on cold floors for one day." No. 47 looked up then.
"Th... thank... you." he managed to stammer, and No. 8 smiled at him.
"You're welcome, 47, now get some sleep. You have a lot of catching up to do." No. 8 walked away then, and No. 23 walked No. 47 to a back corner of the room where a blanket was lying on the floor, folded into a makeshift bed. He took the blanket that No. 8 had given him away and made him lie down on the folded blanket. No. 23 laid down next to him and draped the other blanket over the both of them. No. 47 snuggled close, and No. 23 kissed him on the forehead. "Go to sleep, 47. We have much to do tomorrow."
Warmed by the blanket and comforted by his caretaker lying beside him, No. 47 closed his eyes and drifted off.
Even watched Vexen reading the children's book and realized that No. 8 had been right; it looked as though Vexen was simply delayed. He had quickly mastered reading and writing and was learning at an astonishing rate. His intelligence was obvious, though he still seemed very childlike. Even wasn't sure if that was due to some defect during his time in the tube or if it was due to trauma. He also wasn't sure if the child would outgrow it in time or if he would forever be like that.
To his surprise, Even realized that the latter possibility didn't really bother him.
"Even?" Vexen asked hesitantly, and Even turned to face him, sitting on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace with the book in his hands.
"What is it, Vexen?" he asked gently. It had been five weeks since he had brought Vexen home, and though he was doing very well, there was still a sense of fragility around him, like he would break at the slightest touch. For that reason, Even was very careful how he acted around him. He didn't want to do or say something that would set him back.
"I am confused."
Even sat down beside him. "Why is that?"
Vexen pointed to a block of text in the book. "The little boy in the story doesn't call him father by name. He calls him 'father'. Why is that?"
"Ah, I understand. Father is not only the name of the male parent of a child, it is also a title used by children when addressing their father or referring to him. There are other words too; each language and culture has its own words and titles for parents."
"What are some of the others?"
"Well, 'Dad' is the most common. Many worlds use it in one form another. 'Daddy' is also very common, though it's normally used by younger children. 'Father' is used when the child is being formal in most cases. It's also used in books, as you've seen in the one you're reading."
Vexen nodded thoughtfully, and he slowly closed the book and set it aside. He was silent for a long moment, thinking. He then looked up at Even. "May I..." He hesitated, and Even smiled gently at him for reassurance. Despite five weeks of care, the child still feared the original Vexen's temper. "May I please... May I call you Father?"
Even felt his heart melt, and tears stung in his eyes and ran down his face. "Of course, Vexen, of course you may." He opened his arms, and Vexen climbed onto his lap without hesitation. Even wrapped his arms around his son – his son! - and buried his nose in the soft blond hair atop the child's head. "I love you, Vexen. I love you so much." He gently took one of Vexen's hands and placed it over his heart. "Can you feel it, little one?"
Vexen looked up at him in confusion for a second, and then his eyes widened. "Is that what love feels like?" he asked quietly, and Even nodded.
"This is what a parent feels for their child."
Vexen snuggled close and closed his eyes. "Father," he said softly, and Even held him tighter. He was going to have to do something really nice for Ienzo for suggesting that he go back to Castle Oblivion. Soft snoring from his lap made him look down, and he laughed quietly when he saw that Vexen had fallen asleep on his lap. He carefully stood up – the child had reached a healthy weight, and carrying him had gotten awkward as a result – and carried him into the bedroom to lie him down for a nap.
"So what's going on, Vexen?" Larxene asked, using a condescending tone that made Vexen long to strangle her. "Your Riku was supposed to counter Sora. What's he waiting for? Where is he?"
"He's hiding somewhere to lure Sora deeper into the castle right?" Axel said casually, and Vexen repressed a growl. Heart or no heart, he hated the both of them with a passion. "I suppose we should just leave it at that, you know."
"Ah-ha!" Larxene said "Oh I see now! I would never guessed that! So sorry, Vexen!"
"Silence!" Vexen snapped. How dare these neophytes speak to him in such a way!
Larxene was unperturbed. "Predictable response. Forget it, men without hearts are so boring."
"You're one to talk." Vexen reminded her "As if you have such a heart to speak of yourself."
Marluxia's voice echoed through the room them, which made a shiver of fear race up Vexen's spine. The castle's lord was bound to be unhappy with the failure of the Riku Replica. "That's enough." A dark portal opened in the room, and Marluxia stepped from it.
Marluxia walked up to Vexen. "Vexen, the simple fact is that your project was a failure. You best not disappoint us again."
"Disappoint you? You go too far! In this Organization, you're Number XI! I'm number IV, and I will not have you -" His sentence was cut off abruptly when he had to lean backwards suddenly to stop from being sliced open by the end of Marluxia's scythe, as the pink haired Nobody pointed it at him threateningly.
"I've been entrusted this castle and Naminé by our leader. Defying me will be seen as treason against the Organization."
"Traitors are eliminated." Axel said from behind Vexen "I believe that's what the rules say."
"Who needs a half baked good-for-nothing anyway?" Larxene added. Vexen growled angrily.
Marluxia spoke again."Vexen, you cannot win against Sora."
Vexen smirked at him. "Pity to be so ignorant. As you're only able to see the surface of things, I should not expect you to appreciate my true might."
"Oh?" Marluxia dismissed his scythe. "Then let us watch as you prove it."
Vexen hadn't seen that coming. "What?"
Marluxia turned his back to him. "None of us wish to be suspicious of a comrade."
"Your insincerity is comforting." Vexen said sarcastically as he portaled out of the room and to his lab. He had preparations to make.
It was been two months since Father had brought him to Radiant Garden, and Vexen had never known that it was possible to be so happy. He was given three meals a day, as well as snacks, he had a warm bed to sleep in, toys to play with, and books to read. Most of all, he had Father, the man that had given him life and who cared for him and loved him. He read to Vexen, told him stories, bought him toys and books, held him on his lap whenever he was frightened or upset, and kept that man away from him.
"She took the two rose-trees with her, and they stood before her window, and every year bore they most beautiful roses, white and red." Father finished reading the story and closed the book, and Vexen smiled up at him from his bed, where he was lying with the blankets pulled up to his chin. Father smiled back and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Goodnight, Vexen. Sweet dreams. I love you."
"Goodnight, Father." Vexen replied as Father tucked the blankets around him and brushed his hair out of his face before leaving the room. As usual the bedroom door was left open, Father said his fear of being in small dark spaces was called "claustrophobia" and that it might fade with time. Comforted by the light coming in from the living room, Vexen turned over onto his side and nestled into the soft mattress, and he fell asleep quickly.
"So M... M... Master wants us to t.. t...take care of the lab?" No. 47 asked in a small voice.
No. 23, nodded. "We also help him with his experiments as needed, so there are a few things I'll need to teach you soon. He'll expect you to do as he says without screwing up, so make sure you pay attention." No. 23 led his charge around the basement of Castle Oblivion, though the tour was slow moving, due to No. 47 still having an unsteady gait at times. He was shown the private library shared by Vexen, Lexaeus, and Zexion, and he was warned that the Replicas were never to go in unless invited. He was shown the kitchen and was given a quick lesson on operating the appliances, though he was told to never use them without supervision until he was cleared to do so. The last thing he was shown was the castle's incinerator, which is where all garbage was disposed of, including things from the lab.
"When you clean the lab," No. 23 explained "everything that is not to be kept should be thrown in here. If you're not sure, ask one of us, but anything that is not needed ends up in here." No. 47 nodded in understanding, and No. 23 led him back to the lab to start the day's work, but they had barely gotten started when they were interrupted.
Master stormed in, and the air temperature around him dropped. The Replicas scattered to get out of his way – he was clearly angry, or what passed for angry for Nobodies – and No. 23 tried to pull No. 47 out of the scientist's way, but the five day old Replica stumbled and fell right in Master's path. He cried out when Master tripped over him, resulting in a painful kick to his side, and Master snarled as he regained his balance.
"What are you doing on the floor!" he snapped as he spun to face No. 47, who hadn't gotten up yet "What is wrong with you! Well, answer me! Why are you sitting on the floor!" No. 47 lowered his head and began to cry. Master's anger scared him greatly. A hand clamped down on his arm and dragged him to his feet, and he wailed as Master's fingers dug painfully into his upper arm. "Cease this crying at once! You are not an infant!" He grabbed No. 47 by the shoulders and shook him hard, which only made him cry louder while the other Replicas stared. "Silence!" He shook him again. "You will cease this wailing at once! What is wrong with you!" No. 47 wailed and scrubbed at his eyes, and Master snarled in rage and shoved him away. No. 23 caught him, and he hid his face in No. 23's shirt as the latter rocked him soothingly.
"I must deal with the keyblade wielder." Master snarled "And when I return I will destroy you as I should have done the day you were born! Both of you will go into the incinerator!" With that Master stormed out of the room, and No. 23 held No. 47 close and murmured soothingly to him. He cried into No. 23's shirt, and he barely heard No. 8 speaking over his wails.
"I will try to talk him out of it." No. 8 said quietly "For now though, he is beyond reason. That bastard Marluxia threatened him, and No. 47 was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just stay with him and calm him down, and when Master returns, I'll talk to him."
No. 47 felt No. 23 nod, and he was walked to a quiet corner of the room and sat down on the floor. No. 23 pulled him onto his lap and rocked him while No. 8 told the others to get back to work. No. 47 clung to No. 23 and cried as his hair was stroked and his back was rubbed. He didn't want to go into the hot fires of the incinerator; he didn't want to die!
"It will be alright, 47." No. 23 said softly "We'll get Master to change his mind."
No. 47 didn't know how long he cried, but it was the lab going silent that made him look up and quiet down. The other Replicas were standing still and silent and looking at No. 8, who was standing in the main door leading to the rest of the castle. The oldest Replica looked pale and drawn, and No. 47 knew somehow that something was very, very wrong.
No. 8 took a deep, trembling breath and spoke, and his voice rang clearly throughout the room. "Master is dead."
As surprised murmurs filled the room, No. 47 looked up at No. 23, who looked shocked. Did that mean that they weren't going into the incinerator?
No. 8 continued. "He was slain by Axel, Number VIII in the Organization. All of us.." No. 8 paused and closed his eyes for a second. He then seemed to gather himself together and finished. "We all need to keep going. Master wouldn't want us to stop now that he's gone. All of you, continue on like normal, and we will decide what to do later." No. 8 turned and left the room, and No. 47 though he heard the oldest Replica crying as he walked away.
No. 47 nestled close to No. 23, confused. Master was dead. Should he be happy? Relieved? Sad? He didn't know, but a quick glance at No. 23's face didn't comfort him any. The older Replica looked worried and frightened, and his arms tightened protectively around him.
A blood curdling scream shattered the peaceful silence of the darkened bedroom, and Even bolted upright in bed, heart hammering in his chest just as another scream echoed in the room. He realized immediately where the screams were coming from, and he leapt out of bed and ran over to Vexen, who was thrashing around in his own bed, deep in the grip of some nightmare.
"Vexen?" he called as he gently shook the child to try and wake him "Vexen, wake up. You're dreaming, little one." Vexen's back arched as he screamed a third time, and Even gathered him into his arms and tried to soothe him. Vexen struggled against the arms around him, and his fist connected solidly with Even's nose. Even gasped in pain and dropped him, and Vexen bolted from the room. Even got to his feet and quickly followed him, not caring at all about the blood that was streaming from his nose.
By the time he made it into the living room, Vexen had already ran out of the apartment into the hallway, and Even chased after him. He didn't know if the child was awake, or if he was simply fleeing in his sleep, trying to get away from whatever he was dreaming of. In the hallway, Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan were poking their heads out, curious as to what was going on, but Even ignored them as he chased Vexen down the hallway. The child had a decent lead, but his stride was shorter, and he was running with no clear direction in mind, which allowed Even to gain on on him easily.
Finally, the child collapsed to the floor in the main entrance, and he huddled down against the base of the fountain, crying hysterically. Even knelt down beside him and reached out to him. "Vexen?"
Vexen seemed to finally wake up then, and he raised his head and blinked his teary eyes at Even. "Daddy? Daddy, is that you?" He then leapt into Even's arms with a pained wail. "Daddy, he killed them! He killed them all! Why did he do that, Daddy? Why?"
Even held Vexen tight and rocked him; he had a pretty good idea of who he was speaking. "Shhh, Vexen. It's all over. You're safe here with me now."
"Buy whyyyyyyyy, Daddy? Why was he so mean? Why did he have to kill them? He hurt them, and they were crying and screaming, and then I was all alone! Why did he do that?"
"I don't know, Vexen." Even was debating whether to let Vexen cry himself out, or put him to sleep with a spell. They needed to discuss the nightmare, but they couldn't do it with the child hysterical. "It's alright now. I'm here with you, and I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Daddy..." Vexen sobbed, and he buried his face in Even's pajama top and cried, though he was calmer than he had been just a moment before. Even was vaguely aware of Ienzo and the others running into the room, but he ignored them as he did his best to comfort his son.
"What is going on?" came Ansem's voice from the hallway, and Even looked up at him just as Vexen screamed in horror and renewed his earlier struggles.
"He killed them, Daddy! He killed them!"
Even gently placed one of his hands against Vexen's left temple and spoke a single word softly: "Sleep." Instantly, Vexen's cries fell silent and he went limp in Even's arms as the spell put him in a deep, dreamless sleep. Even gently settled the child in his arms and stood up, ignoring Aeleus' offer to carry him. He looked over at his shoulder to look up at Ansem, who was standing on the landing above the fountain. To be fair, the man looked quite distressed at Vexen's fear, but that did nothing to stop the surge of pure rage that rose within Even's heart.
"Why did you do it, Ansem?" he asked, his voice ringing clearly in the suddenly silent room. "Why did you kill them? Were you angry that you couldn't get to me, so you took it out on them instead?" He looked away and shook his head. "Whatever your reasons, I hope that you're happy with yourself." With that, he turned away and carried Vexen out of the room, and Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan followed without a word.
No. 47 stayed close to No. 23. The atmosphere in the lab had become tense and oppressive with Master's death. No. 8 kept everything moving, but it was clear that he was upset and having a hard time keeping himself together. There was talk among the others about leaving, but that was quickly shot down, because none of them, not even No. 8, had ever left the castle and had no idea what awaited outside as a result. No. 8 occasionally brought them news, including the deaths of Lexaeus, Larxene, Zexion, and Marluxia, and some wondered if that meant they could have the castle all to themselves.
No. 47 didn't know, and he honestly didn't care. He clung to No. 23 and barely spoke. He assisted with the work as needed, and ate and slept when he was supposed to, but that was all. He did not like the feeling of the lab anymore, and he longed to get away from it, even as the thought of leaving terrified him. He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching the lab, but he ignored it. It wasn't until silence swept through the lab again that he looked up.
A man was standing in the lab door, and he was clothed in red, with his face covered save for his eyes and mouth. He stared at the Replica's that were staring back at him in silence for the longest moment, and then with a single gesture, No. 19 exploded in a shower of gore. No. 47 screamed in horror, and he felt a hand clamp down over his mouth, and he was dragged towards the back of the room and shoved down under a table.
"Listen to me, 47." No. 23 said firmly yet urgently "No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear, you stay here and don't make a sound. Do you understand?" No. 47 whimpered in fear. What was happening? No. 23 shook him slightly. "Do you understand me?" No. 47 whimpered again and nodded, and No. 23 smiled sadly. "I love you." he said, and kissed No. 47 on the forehead before he stood up, and covered the table with a white drop cloth intended to protect the equipment that was not being used from dust. The cloth blocked out his view of the room, but it did nothing to mute the sound, and No. 47 scooted back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the cries and screams of the other Replicas as they died. He could hear the sounds of battle in the room, glass breaking, equipment being smashed, the crackle of ice magic, and the sounds that were heard whenever Master had used Darkness nearby. He heard liquids splattering on the walls and floor, and the thumping sounds that he somehow knew were bodies hitting the floor. The cries from the other Replicas vanished one by one, until there was only one left. Despite being told not to, No. 47 couldn't resist a peak, and he raised the cloth just enough to peer out from under it.
No. 8 was the only one left standing, the rest were lying still on the floor, and ice and darkness were flying from his hands as he fought against the red man, but nothing he did seemed to faze him. Finally, No. 8 fell as well as his ruptured heart burst from his chest. No. 47 let go of the cloth and backed up against the wall again and stuffed a fist in his mouth to muffle the scream that wanted to come out. He laid pressed against the wall, shivering in terror, as the red man muttered to himself. He heard more equipment being smashed, papers rustling, and then the crackle of flames.
The red man moved around the otherwise silent lab for an unmeasurable amount of time, before he walked out. Too terrified to move, No. 47 stayed huddled under the table for several hours. He heard the red man's voice once or twice, along with a girl's voice, but soon they were gone, and only then did he work up the courage to come out of hiding.
For the first time that he knew of, the lab was silent and still. He climbed to his feet and looked around. Blood covered the walls, floor, and ceiling, shattered glass and broken equipment littered the room, and lying on the floor, as still and silent as the lab, were the other Replicas. All of them were dead. Some were lying with their eyes closed, as though they were merely sleeping, others had looks of horror on their faces, still others looked as though they had died in agony. All of them were injured in some way, and in most cases, the visible injuries were obviously the cause of death.
He found No. 23 not too far away from the table. He was lying on his back, looking up with sightless eyes at the ceiling, with the back of his skull crushed. No. 47 looked down at him, and the horror of what had just happened crashed down on him, and he began to scream. He screamed, tore at his hair, and clawed at his face and arms, and after several minutes, his screaming tapered off into sobs as pain exploded in his chest with the realization that he was all alone. Everyone was gone.
Crying and shaking with his sobs, he laid down on the cold floor beside No. 23 and snuggled close to him. He laid his head down on the still chest and wrapped one of his arms around him and tried to pretend that he was really holding him.
"Please come back," he sobbed "Please don't leave me alone." There was no answer, and he cried himself to sleep.
When he woke, nothing had changed. The lab was still silent save for the sounds of his own breathing, and the other Replicas were still lying lifelessly on the floor. No. 23's arm was cold and stiff, and he had to wiggle out from under it before he could stand. He stood up and looked around for a moment before he realized what he had to do. Stepping over the bodies, he went to where No. 8 was lying, and heaved him up. It was difficult because the body was stiff and so much heavier than him, but he managed to heave him up onto his back and carry him slowly out of the room. He could hear No. 8's booted feet dragging along the floor as they went down the silent hallway, and the sound unnerved him greatly. It was almost like No. 8 was still alive and moving his feet, and it was so eerie that he stopped a few times to verify that no, No. 8 was not breathing, and that he was cold and lifeless.
He finally reached the incinerator room, and with a grunt of effort, he heaved the oldest Replica's corpse into the chute and watched it fall down into the roaring flames below. He then turned away and returned to the lab, where he picked up the next Replica, No. 38, and repeated the procedure.
Not counting himself, there were 29 other Replicas, and, one by one, he carried them all out of the lab and threw them into the incinerator, like he had been taught to do. The work was exhausting and mind numbing, which suited him just fine. Staying busy prevented him from thinking about what had just happened. He saved No. 23 for last, and by the time he got to him, he body was pliable once more, though it was colder than before. He sat No. 23 up and hugged him, and he began to cry as he hoisted him up onto his back and began to carry him out of the lab.
He approached the incinerator, and he paused. He didn't want to throw No. 23 in there; he didn't want to let go of him, but he had to. His instructions had been clear about cleaning the lab: anything that wasn't to be saved went into the incinerator. Crying, he gently lifted No. 23 up to the chute and watched him slide down to the fire below. He didn't look away as the flames began to devour the one that had cared for him, even though the tears blurred his vision and his chest heaved with sobs. Soon the fire grew so intense that he could no longer see No. 23 through the flames, and exhaustion and heartbreak made his knees buckle under him, and he collapsed to the floor in front of the incinerator.
When he woke later, the fire had gone out, and he could see nothing but smoky darkness as the bottom of the chute. Scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, he left the room and returned to the lab, where he began to clean up as he had been taught to do.
"I cleaned up the lab," Vexen said quietly as his father held him and rocked him on his lap. "That man had burned all the papers and destroyed the equipment. I cleaned up the mess and washed the blood off the walls and floor as best as I could. I couldn't get it all though." He looked down, wondering if Father would be angry with him for not cleaning up properly, but the man simply held him tighter and said nothing. "I stayed in the storage room, and slept on No. 23's blanket. I didn't touch the others', even when the castle got really cold. It made me feel sick to think about using the other blankets.
"I had bad dreams sometimes. Sometimes I dreamed of the red man coming back and throwing me in the incinerator with the others. Sometimes I dreamed of No. 23 crawling out of there, all burned and blackened, and he would crawl into the lab and ask why I had thrown him there. He would then try to hold me, but I wouldn't let him. He would get angry then and drag me back into the incinerator with him. Sometimes..." His chest hitched, and tears began to trickle out of his eyes and down his face. "Sometimes I would dream that nothing had happened, and everyone was still alive, and I wanted so much for those dreams to be real, but they never were.
"I ate out of the lab kitchen for a while, until that food ran out, and then I took food from the other kitchen that you and the others used. When that food ran out, I had to catch mice and rats and eat them. Sometimes they made me sick, but..."
Vexen fell silent and snuggled close to his father for a moment before he looked up at him. "Father?" he asked hesitantly "Did you know... that I was still alive?"
"No," Father said hoarsely – had he been crying too? "I had just been reborn a few months before I found you, and I was too unstable to do little more than sleep at first. Once I was feeling better, I never thought about Castle Oblivion. I had died there, and I tried to keep it out of my mind. I had gone back hoping to find something to interest me. I wasn't sure if any of you had survived. If I had known that you were alive, Vexen, I would have come for you sooner. I swear I would have."
Vexen nodded and laid his head against his father's chest and listened to the steady thump-thump of his heart. The horror of the events that had taken place over a year ago had mostly faded, but seeing the red man again... Vexen shuddered, and his father rocked him some more.
"I will keep him away from you, Vexen." Father promised "I don't care what it takes. He will not come near you again." Vexen felt a soft kiss on his hair. "I love you, little one, and I want you to feel safe here. If that means making sure that that man never looks at you again, then that is what I will do."
"How long was I alone there?"
Father sighed. "Fifteen months. You were alone for fifteen months."
"A long time."
"Yes, a very long time, and yet you survived, and are here still." Vexen snuggled close and said nothing more, Father rocked him, and they sat in silence for a long moment before Father spoke again.
"I have something for you to take," he said softly "that will help you sleep without dreaming. It's only temporary, so you can only have it a few times before I can no longer give it to you, but it will help you for now."
Vexen nodded, too tired to argue even if he had wanted to, and he drank down the dark liquid in the dropper that Father held up to him without a word. Almost immediately, his eyes sank shut, and he fell asleep on Father's lap with a quiet sigh.
Even gently laid Vexen down in the center of the larger bed and tucked him in. The poor child had been through so much; it was amazing that he was only badly wounded, not broken. He brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him on the forehead and just spent a few minutes watching him sleep. He then walked out into the living room, where Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan were sitting.
"Is he alright?" Dilan asked with genuine concern.
Even sighed. "As well as can be expected. I gave him a sedative to help him sleep, and I need to ask a favor of you three."
"Name it." Aeleus said, and Ienzo nodded in agreement.
"I need you to watch him and keep Ansem away from him while I am gone."
"Gone?" Ienzo asked "Where are you going?"
"Back to Castle Oblivion. I have something there that I need to collect. Will you watch him for me? I should be back by the time he wakes, but I don't want him to be alone after what he just told me."
"So Ansem did really kill them all?" Aeleus asked.
Even sighed again. "He did. Every single one except for Vexen, and the only reason Vexen was spared was because No. 23 hid him under a table."
"We'll look after him." Dilan said "Would you like one of us to go with you though?"
"No," Even shook his head "I need to do this alone." He summoned his black coat from his peg by the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Vexen will give you signs that he's starting to wake. If he does, come and get me. I want to be there with him when he wakes up." Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan nodded, and Even slipped his coat on and portaled out.
He portaled into the empty lab inside Castle Oblivion, and he went straight into the storage room where the Replicas had slept, where he quickly gathered up the handful of blankets that he found there. On the colder nights, the Replicas had slept grouped together to keep warm. He didn't find the blanket that he knew to belong to No. 8, which made his heart ache. The original Vexen had cared deeply for No. 8; he had just denied it to himself and never shown it, preferring to keep a professional distance from his creation.
Once he had the blankets piled together, which formed to create a depressingly thin stack, he grabbed a trash bag from their place in a cabinet and went back to his old rooms. There, in the bedroom closet, he found No. 23's blanket, and the blanket that had belonged to No. 8 until he had given it to No. 47. He remembered that blanket well; he remembered wrapping a newly born No. 8 in it and scolding him lightly for crying even as he cradled him and fed him his first bottle. No. 8 had grown attacked to his blanket quickly – one of his first words had been "blankie" - and Even had many memories of him snuggling with it, whether in bed, or in the original Vexen's arms, or on the floor. No. 8 had slept on a cot in Vexen's bedroom for quite a while, and it wasn't until other Replicas were born that he had voluntarily moved to the storage room to sleep with them.
Even sighed as he bagged up the two blankets and deposited them on the lab floor. Later, he would take them back to the castle and have them washed before giving them back to Vexen. He then grabbed a second bag, the stack of other blankets, and walked out of the lab to the incinerator. He went into the utility room under the chute room, and opened the door to the ash tray. Inside, on the floor of the tray, was a large pile of charred bones and bone fragments, all that remained of the other Replicas. Sitting the stack of blankets on the floor by the door, Even began to silently gather up the bones and deposit them on the blankets. He couldn't leave his Replicas here; they deserved so much more than to lie forgotten at the bottom of an incinerator. It took several hours to get them all, but once he had done that, he scooped up as much of the ashes as he could, using a large broom and dustpan intended for that very purpose, and poured them on the blankets with the bone pieces.
Once that was done, he wiped his hands off, and carefully folded the blankets over the bones and ashes, and then slipped the folded package into the bag that he had brought.
"I'm sorry." he whispered as he laid his hand over where the ashes and bones were "I'm sorry that, now that you're gone, I just now came back here for you I'm sorry that I didn't care for you. I'm sorry that I was so cruel to you. I'm so sorry, and I wish I could bring you all back, but while I can recreate a body perfectly, I cannot recreate your hearts and souls. Have you gone on, to whatever afterlife awaits? Are you living new lives even now? Please don't be trapped here, and if you are, please go on. Don't stay here, trapped in misery and anger." He bowed his head for a moment and reached out with his senses. To his immense relief, he could sense no wandering souls or hearts in the castle. Hopefully, they had all gone on to better lives.
Carefully picking up the bag and blanket wrapped remains, he walked out of the room and back to the lab. He picked up the bagged blankets there, and then portaled home, leaving the castle once again silent and empty.
Vexen shifted as he began to wake up, and he opened his eyes to find himself in his father's bed instead of his own.
"Vexen?' came Father's voice from nearby "Are you awake now, child?"
Vexen sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Father?"
"Right here, little one." Vexen looked over to see him sitting in a chair by the bed. "How do you feel?"
"Tired."
Father smiled gently at him. "Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Then go get your shower, and then we'll have breakfast."
Vexen nodded and got out of bed, and as he walked towards the bathroom, he noticed that Father looked very tired, like had hadn't slept at all. Hadn't he gone back to sleep after he'd given him the sedative? He would have to ask later. He quickly washed himself down, dried off, combed his hair, and dressed himself. He no longer needed Father's help for any of those things; he was a big boy now. The two had breakfast in silence, but once they had eaten, Father spoke:
"Go put your shoes and jacket on. We have someplace to go."
Vexen looked at him curiously, but Father said nothing else on the matter, so he did as he was told, and once that was done, Father gathered him to him, held him close, and portaled them both out of the room.
The stepped out of the portal in a grassy, flower filled meadow outside of town. A short distance away, he could see Aeleus, Ienzo, and Dilan standing by something on the ground. He looked at Father again, but the man said nothing, and only walked him towards the other three. When they got closer he realized they they were standing by a hole in the ground, and at the bottom of that hole was a pile of folded blankets, blankets that looked very familiar. He stared at them for a moment before he turned to Father, who was standing beside him.
"You went back and got them?" he asked as he began to cry.
"I did," Father said quietly "I couldn't leave them there."
"All of them?"
"Yes, I got them all. I wasn't going to leave anyone behind." Father wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, and Vexen buried his face in his shirt and cried. He finally let out the grief that he had held back while simply trying to survive in the abandoned castle.
"Where any of them still there?" he asked through his tears, hoping that Father would know what he meant.
Thankfully, Father did. "No, I checked, and they have all moved on." A hand gently smoothed down his hair "Let's put them to rest, okay?"
Vexen nodded, and at Father's instruction, he took a handful of dirt from the nearby pile and tossed it down into the grave. Father did so as well, and then so did the others. Only then did Aeleus gesture to the rest of the pile, and it flew into into the grave and compacted itself neatly inside. With another gesture a headstone appeared, formed out of granite, and an inscription etched itself into the stone while they watched.
When someone you love becomes a memory,
the memory becomes a treasure.
Here, sleeps ours.
"If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again." Father said quietly, and Vexen looked up to see a few tears tracking down his face as he looked at the grave. After a moment of silence, Ienzo, Dilan, and Aeleus walked away and portaled back to the castle, but Vexen and Even remained by the grave for some time, holding onto each other as they grieved.
******
That night, Vexen was awakened by soft crying, and he sat up in bed to see Father crying into a pillow. He climbed out of bed and climbed into Father's bed beside him and snuggled close. One of Father's arms came around him and held him tight, and Vexen kept silent while the other cried, silently offering the comfort that he had been given so many times. After several minutes, Father's cries quieted, and he sat up in bed and summoned Vexen's blankets over; the one that had belonged to No. 23, as well as the one that he had been given by No. 8. The maids had carefully washed and dried them, and he had been so happy to have them back. Father gently wrapped him in No. 23's blanket before tucking him under No. 8's. He then pulled him close, and Vexen snuggled into his chest and listened to his heart beating.
"I love you, Vexen." Father said quietly as he wrapped his arms around him, and Vexen smiled as he closed his eyes.
"I love you too, Daddy." he whispered, and then he fell asleep, warm, safe, and loved, nestled in his father's arms.
Holy god, it's finally done! Wheeeeeeeee! Cough anyway, for those that want to know, below is the timeline I used for the first 8 days of Vexen's life.
Day 0: No 47 is born. No. 23 cleans him, dresses him, feeds him, and then puts him to bed.
Day 1: Vexen examines No. 47 and takes note of the height deficiency. No. 47 is over a foot shorter than he should be. He thinks about destroying it, but No. 23 talks him out of it.
Day 2: No. 23 continues to care for No. 47, and he begins to wean him from the bottle.
Day 4: No 47 begins to walk and talk, though he is still very infant like. Vexen locks him in a closet as punishment and leaves him there for several hours.
Day 5: No. 23 takes No. 47 for a tour of the lower floors of Castle Oblivion, including the incinerator. They then return to the lab, but Vexen, enraged at Marluxia, storms into the lab. He takes his anger out on No. 47, reducing the Replica to tears, and tells him that when he returns from dealing with Sora, he'll get rid of him "like I should have had the day you were born!". Vexen goes off to face Sora and is then killed by Axel.
Day 5 - 6: The other Nobodies are killed by Sora.
Day 7: Ansem arrives in the castle, and he kills the other Replicas. No 23 hides No. 47 under a table, out of Ansem's sight, and then he too is killed. Once Ansem and Namine have gone, No. 47 crawls out from under the table and curls up beside No. 23's lifeless body, and cries.
Day 8: Remembering what he had been told, No. 47 carries the bodies of the other Replicas to the incinerator and throws them in. He then spends the next 15 months alone in the castle.
Part 1 --
Back to the Burning Heart Archive
Back to the Main Archive
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Side story to Burning Heart. After his rebirth as a complete person, Even returns to Castle Oblivion, looking for a distraction. Instead of research notes, he finds the last surviving Vexen Replica and takes it in. How will the Replica adjust to life outside the lab? Can the damage caused by a difficult early life and months of isolation be undone?
Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish I owned Kingdom Hearts. At least then I could fix some of the inconsistencies and spackle the worst of the plot holes.
Part 2
"M... ma... master." No. 47 gurgled as Master looked him over. The four day old Replica looked to No. 23 for approval and was met with a smile and an encouraging nod.
"Has it learned to walk yet?" Master asked No. 23, who nodded.
"He just started to walk earlier today, Master."
"A day late then."
"Yes, Master."
"Show me."
No. 23 helped him down from the exam table. "Show Master that you can walk. 47." No. 47 smiled happily; he liked it when No. 23 talked to him. No. 23 moved to the other side of the room and gestured him forward. "Come here, 47. Show Master your walk."
No. 47 wobbled a bit on legs that were still somewhat unsteady, and then he took a step forward, followed by a second, and then a third. He toddled towards No. 23, who was still holding his hand out to him, but he had only covered half the distance when he missed a step and fell. He wailed in pain when his chin struck the hard floor, and Master, who was standing close by, pulled him back to his feet.
"Stop your squalling, No. 47. You are uninjured." Sniffling, No 47 snuggled against Master, who stiffened.
"Master." he gurgled again as he nestled against Master's black coat, but Master shoved him away. The shove sent him tumbling down back to the floor, and he landed hard against a nearby counter. He wailed in pain again and began to cry. He saw No. 23 moving towards him, and he reached out, wanting to be picked up, but before No. 23 could reach him, Master's hand clamped down on his arm and dragged him to his feet.
"There is no excuse for such infantile behavior, No. 47! Now cease this bawling at once!"
The angry tone only made him cry louder, and Master made an angry sound and dragged him across the room to a small closet. He opened the door, and No. 47 wailed a third time as he was thrown into the small, dark space. "You can stay in there until you've learned how to act!"
"Master!" he sobbed as the door slammed, leaving him alone in the dark closet, and he heard Master talking angrily to No. 23.
"It stays in there for the rest of the day. This is its final chance. If it is not out of this state tomorrow, you will be throwing it into the incinerator, while it is still alive! And then you will follow! Now return to your normal duties. Do not come into this room until I say you can let it out."
"Yes, Master." said No. 23 quietly, and No. 47 banged on the door and cried as he heard footsteps walking out of the room, leaving him crying, scared and alone, in the closet. He beat harder against the door and cried as loud as he could, but there was no answer. No. 23 did not pick him up and hold him like he had before, and No. 47 felt the pain in his heart when he realized that he had been left behind. He banged on the door and cried until his hands and throat hurt, and No. 23 still did not come back.
Finally, too tired to keep up such a ruckus, No. 47 plopped himself down on the floor, sniffling, and rubbed at his eyes. His head hurt, his nose was stuffy, and he was so scared. He curled up in a ball close to the door and rocked himself back and forth, while trying to pretend that it was No. 23 that was rocking him. He cried a bit more, but after a while, he fell silent.
When the door finally opened hours later, he was hungry and tired and thirsty, he had wet himself, and he was cold and sore from lying on the floor for so long. No. 23's warm arms gently gathering him up were such a relief that he began to cry again, and he snuggled close to No. 23's warm body.
No. 23 held him and gently wiped his tears away. "You need to quiet down, 47. If Master hears you crying again, he'll throw you back in there. You need to hush." He gently pressed No. 47's face into his shoulder to muffle his cries, and stood up with him. "I can't carry you anymore. You have to walk from now on. Come now, let's walk to the bathroom so I can get you cleaned up and into dry clothes. Then you can have some dinner, and then you're going to bed."
No. 47 shuffled along, sniffling quietly, and by the time he was bathed and fed, he was quiet, and he tried to walk to his room to go to bed. But No. 23 pulled him in a different direction.
"No, 47, that's not your bed anymore. You have to sleep in the storage room with the rest of us. Come along now."
He whined in protest and tried to go that way regardless, but No. 23 kept tugging him in the opposite direction until he began to cry in frustration.
"You need to stop, 47, before Master hears you." No. 47 looked at No. 23 with tears running down his face, and the other Replica held him and kissed him lightly on the top of his head. "I know, I know, but that's not your room anymore. You have to sleep with me and the others from now on."
He walked him through the open door into the large storage room then, and the other Replicas were already there, settling down for the night. No. 8 was there as well, and No. 47 hid his face in No. 23's hair as the oldest Replica spoke to the other.
"I convinced Master to give him more time." No. 8 said "but he is still irritated at the failure. I have excused you from all lab duties for the next two days, so that you may spend more time with him and hopefully get him to catch up."
"Thank you, No. 8. I hope it's enough."
"Mm-hmm," No. 47 felt something soft being draped over him then, a blanket, he realized. "This is for him. I imagine that he's had enough of lying on cold floors for one day." No. 47 looked up then.
"Th... thank... you." he managed to stammer, and No. 8 smiled at him.
"You're welcome, 47, now get some sleep. You have a lot of catching up to do." No. 8 walked away then, and No. 23 walked No. 47 to a back corner of the room where a blanket was lying on the floor, folded into a makeshift bed. He took the blanket that No. 8 had given him away and made him lie down on the folded blanket. No. 23 laid down next to him and draped the other blanket over the both of them. No. 47 snuggled close, and No. 23 kissed him on the forehead. "Go to sleep, 47. We have much to do tomorrow."
Warmed by the blanket and comforted by his caretaker lying beside him, No. 47 closed his eyes and drifted off.
******
Even watched Vexen reading the children's book and realized that No. 8 had been right; it looked as though Vexen was simply delayed. He had quickly mastered reading and writing and was learning at an astonishing rate. His intelligence was obvious, though he still seemed very childlike. Even wasn't sure if that was due to some defect during his time in the tube or if it was due to trauma. He also wasn't sure if the child would outgrow it in time or if he would forever be like that.
To his surprise, Even realized that the latter possibility didn't really bother him.
"Even?" Vexen asked hesitantly, and Even turned to face him, sitting on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace with the book in his hands.
"What is it, Vexen?" he asked gently. It had been five weeks since he had brought Vexen home, and though he was doing very well, there was still a sense of fragility around him, like he would break at the slightest touch. For that reason, Even was very careful how he acted around him. He didn't want to do or say something that would set him back.
"I am confused."
Even sat down beside him. "Why is that?"
Vexen pointed to a block of text in the book. "The little boy in the story doesn't call him father by name. He calls him 'father'. Why is that?"
"Ah, I understand. Father is not only the name of the male parent of a child, it is also a title used by children when addressing their father or referring to him. There are other words too; each language and culture has its own words and titles for parents."
"What are some of the others?"
"Well, 'Dad' is the most common. Many worlds use it in one form another. 'Daddy' is also very common, though it's normally used by younger children. 'Father' is used when the child is being formal in most cases. It's also used in books, as you've seen in the one you're reading."
Vexen nodded thoughtfully, and he slowly closed the book and set it aside. He was silent for a long moment, thinking. He then looked up at Even. "May I..." He hesitated, and Even smiled gently at him for reassurance. Despite five weeks of care, the child still feared the original Vexen's temper. "May I please... May I call you Father?"
Even felt his heart melt, and tears stung in his eyes and ran down his face. "Of course, Vexen, of course you may." He opened his arms, and Vexen climbed onto his lap without hesitation. Even wrapped his arms around his son – his son! - and buried his nose in the soft blond hair atop the child's head. "I love you, Vexen. I love you so much." He gently took one of Vexen's hands and placed it over his heart. "Can you feel it, little one?"
Vexen looked up at him in confusion for a second, and then his eyes widened. "Is that what love feels like?" he asked quietly, and Even nodded.
"This is what a parent feels for their child."
Vexen snuggled close and closed his eyes. "Father," he said softly, and Even held him tighter. He was going to have to do something really nice for Ienzo for suggesting that he go back to Castle Oblivion. Soft snoring from his lap made him look down, and he laughed quietly when he saw that Vexen had fallen asleep on his lap. He carefully stood up – the child had reached a healthy weight, and carrying him had gotten awkward as a result – and carried him into the bedroom to lie him down for a nap.
******
"So what's going on, Vexen?" Larxene asked, using a condescending tone that made Vexen long to strangle her. "Your Riku was supposed to counter Sora. What's he waiting for? Where is he?"
"He's hiding somewhere to lure Sora deeper into the castle right?" Axel said casually, and Vexen repressed a growl. Heart or no heart, he hated the both of them with a passion. "I suppose we should just leave it at that, you know."
"Ah-ha!" Larxene said "Oh I see now! I would never guessed that! So sorry, Vexen!"
"Silence!" Vexen snapped. How dare these neophytes speak to him in such a way!
Larxene was unperturbed. "Predictable response. Forget it, men without hearts are so boring."
"You're one to talk." Vexen reminded her "As if you have such a heart to speak of yourself."
Marluxia's voice echoed through the room them, which made a shiver of fear race up Vexen's spine. The castle's lord was bound to be unhappy with the failure of the Riku Replica. "That's enough." A dark portal opened in the room, and Marluxia stepped from it.
Marluxia walked up to Vexen. "Vexen, the simple fact is that your project was a failure. You best not disappoint us again."
"Disappoint you? You go too far! In this Organization, you're Number XI! I'm number IV, and I will not have you -" His sentence was cut off abruptly when he had to lean backwards suddenly to stop from being sliced open by the end of Marluxia's scythe, as the pink haired Nobody pointed it at him threateningly.
"I've been entrusted this castle and Naminé by our leader. Defying me will be seen as treason against the Organization."
"Traitors are eliminated." Axel said from behind Vexen "I believe that's what the rules say."
"Who needs a half baked good-for-nothing anyway?" Larxene added. Vexen growled angrily.
Marluxia spoke again."Vexen, you cannot win against Sora."
Vexen smirked at him. "Pity to be so ignorant. As you're only able to see the surface of things, I should not expect you to appreciate my true might."
"Oh?" Marluxia dismissed his scythe. "Then let us watch as you prove it."
Vexen hadn't seen that coming. "What?"
Marluxia turned his back to him. "None of us wish to be suspicious of a comrade."
"Your insincerity is comforting." Vexen said sarcastically as he portaled out of the room and to his lab. He had preparations to make.
******
It was been two months since Father had brought him to Radiant Garden, and Vexen had never known that it was possible to be so happy. He was given three meals a day, as well as snacks, he had a warm bed to sleep in, toys to play with, and books to read. Most of all, he had Father, the man that had given him life and who cared for him and loved him. He read to Vexen, told him stories, bought him toys and books, held him on his lap whenever he was frightened or upset, and kept that man away from him.
"She took the two rose-trees with her, and they stood before her window, and every year bore they most beautiful roses, white and red." Father finished reading the story and closed the book, and Vexen smiled up at him from his bed, where he was lying with the blankets pulled up to his chin. Father smiled back and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Goodnight, Vexen. Sweet dreams. I love you."
"Goodnight, Father." Vexen replied as Father tucked the blankets around him and brushed his hair out of his face before leaving the room. As usual the bedroom door was left open, Father said his fear of being in small dark spaces was called "claustrophobia" and that it might fade with time. Comforted by the light coming in from the living room, Vexen turned over onto his side and nestled into the soft mattress, and he fell asleep quickly.
******
"So M... M... Master wants us to t.. t...take care of the lab?" No. 47 asked in a small voice.
No. 23, nodded. "We also help him with his experiments as needed, so there are a few things I'll need to teach you soon. He'll expect you to do as he says without screwing up, so make sure you pay attention." No. 23 led his charge around the basement of Castle Oblivion, though the tour was slow moving, due to No. 47 still having an unsteady gait at times. He was shown the private library shared by Vexen, Lexaeus, and Zexion, and he was warned that the Replicas were never to go in unless invited. He was shown the kitchen and was given a quick lesson on operating the appliances, though he was told to never use them without supervision until he was cleared to do so. The last thing he was shown was the castle's incinerator, which is where all garbage was disposed of, including things from the lab.
"When you clean the lab," No. 23 explained "everything that is not to be kept should be thrown in here. If you're not sure, ask one of us, but anything that is not needed ends up in here." No. 47 nodded in understanding, and No. 23 led him back to the lab to start the day's work, but they had barely gotten started when they were interrupted.
Master stormed in, and the air temperature around him dropped. The Replicas scattered to get out of his way – he was clearly angry, or what passed for angry for Nobodies – and No. 23 tried to pull No. 47 out of the scientist's way, but the five day old Replica stumbled and fell right in Master's path. He cried out when Master tripped over him, resulting in a painful kick to his side, and Master snarled as he regained his balance.
"What are you doing on the floor!" he snapped as he spun to face No. 47, who hadn't gotten up yet "What is wrong with you! Well, answer me! Why are you sitting on the floor!" No. 47 lowered his head and began to cry. Master's anger scared him greatly. A hand clamped down on his arm and dragged him to his feet, and he wailed as Master's fingers dug painfully into his upper arm. "Cease this crying at once! You are not an infant!" He grabbed No. 47 by the shoulders and shook him hard, which only made him cry louder while the other Replicas stared. "Silence!" He shook him again. "You will cease this wailing at once! What is wrong with you!" No. 47 wailed and scrubbed at his eyes, and Master snarled in rage and shoved him away. No. 23 caught him, and he hid his face in No. 23's shirt as the latter rocked him soothingly.
"I must deal with the keyblade wielder." Master snarled "And when I return I will destroy you as I should have done the day you were born! Both of you will go into the incinerator!" With that Master stormed out of the room, and No. 23 held No. 47 close and murmured soothingly to him. He cried into No. 23's shirt, and he barely heard No. 8 speaking over his wails.
"I will try to talk him out of it." No. 8 said quietly "For now though, he is beyond reason. That bastard Marluxia threatened him, and No. 47 was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just stay with him and calm him down, and when Master returns, I'll talk to him."
No. 47 felt No. 23 nod, and he was walked to a quiet corner of the room and sat down on the floor. No. 23 pulled him onto his lap and rocked him while No. 8 told the others to get back to work. No. 47 clung to No. 23 and cried as his hair was stroked and his back was rubbed. He didn't want to go into the hot fires of the incinerator; he didn't want to die!
"It will be alright, 47." No. 23 said softly "We'll get Master to change his mind."
No. 47 didn't know how long he cried, but it was the lab going silent that made him look up and quiet down. The other Replicas were standing still and silent and looking at No. 8, who was standing in the main door leading to the rest of the castle. The oldest Replica looked pale and drawn, and No. 47 knew somehow that something was very, very wrong.
No. 8 took a deep, trembling breath and spoke, and his voice rang clearly throughout the room. "Master is dead."
As surprised murmurs filled the room, No. 47 looked up at No. 23, who looked shocked. Did that mean that they weren't going into the incinerator?
No. 8 continued. "He was slain by Axel, Number VIII in the Organization. All of us.." No. 8 paused and closed his eyes for a second. He then seemed to gather himself together and finished. "We all need to keep going. Master wouldn't want us to stop now that he's gone. All of you, continue on like normal, and we will decide what to do later." No. 8 turned and left the room, and No. 47 though he heard the oldest Replica crying as he walked away.
No. 47 nestled close to No. 23, confused. Master was dead. Should he be happy? Relieved? Sad? He didn't know, but a quick glance at No. 23's face didn't comfort him any. The older Replica looked worried and frightened, and his arms tightened protectively around him.
******
A blood curdling scream shattered the peaceful silence of the darkened bedroom, and Even bolted upright in bed, heart hammering in his chest just as another scream echoed in the room. He realized immediately where the screams were coming from, and he leapt out of bed and ran over to Vexen, who was thrashing around in his own bed, deep in the grip of some nightmare.
"Vexen?" he called as he gently shook the child to try and wake him "Vexen, wake up. You're dreaming, little one." Vexen's back arched as he screamed a third time, and Even gathered him into his arms and tried to soothe him. Vexen struggled against the arms around him, and his fist connected solidly with Even's nose. Even gasped in pain and dropped him, and Vexen bolted from the room. Even got to his feet and quickly followed him, not caring at all about the blood that was streaming from his nose.
By the time he made it into the living room, Vexen had already ran out of the apartment into the hallway, and Even chased after him. He didn't know if the child was awake, or if he was simply fleeing in his sleep, trying to get away from whatever he was dreaming of. In the hallway, Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan were poking their heads out, curious as to what was going on, but Even ignored them as he chased Vexen down the hallway. The child had a decent lead, but his stride was shorter, and he was running with no clear direction in mind, which allowed Even to gain on on him easily.
Finally, the child collapsed to the floor in the main entrance, and he huddled down against the base of the fountain, crying hysterically. Even knelt down beside him and reached out to him. "Vexen?"
Vexen seemed to finally wake up then, and he raised his head and blinked his teary eyes at Even. "Daddy? Daddy, is that you?" He then leapt into Even's arms with a pained wail. "Daddy, he killed them! He killed them all! Why did he do that, Daddy? Why?"
Even held Vexen tight and rocked him; he had a pretty good idea of who he was speaking. "Shhh, Vexen. It's all over. You're safe here with me now."
"Buy whyyyyyyyy, Daddy? Why was he so mean? Why did he have to kill them? He hurt them, and they were crying and screaming, and then I was all alone! Why did he do that?"
"I don't know, Vexen." Even was debating whether to let Vexen cry himself out, or put him to sleep with a spell. They needed to discuss the nightmare, but they couldn't do it with the child hysterical. "It's alright now. I'm here with you, and I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Daddy..." Vexen sobbed, and he buried his face in Even's pajama top and cried, though he was calmer than he had been just a moment before. Even was vaguely aware of Ienzo and the others running into the room, but he ignored them as he did his best to comfort his son.
"What is going on?" came Ansem's voice from the hallway, and Even looked up at him just as Vexen screamed in horror and renewed his earlier struggles.
"He killed them, Daddy! He killed them!"
Even gently placed one of his hands against Vexen's left temple and spoke a single word softly: "Sleep." Instantly, Vexen's cries fell silent and he went limp in Even's arms as the spell put him in a deep, dreamless sleep. Even gently settled the child in his arms and stood up, ignoring Aeleus' offer to carry him. He looked over at his shoulder to look up at Ansem, who was standing on the landing above the fountain. To be fair, the man looked quite distressed at Vexen's fear, but that did nothing to stop the surge of pure rage that rose within Even's heart.
"Why did you do it, Ansem?" he asked, his voice ringing clearly in the suddenly silent room. "Why did you kill them? Were you angry that you couldn't get to me, so you took it out on them instead?" He looked away and shook his head. "Whatever your reasons, I hope that you're happy with yourself." With that, he turned away and carried Vexen out of the room, and Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan followed without a word.
******
No. 47 stayed close to No. 23. The atmosphere in the lab had become tense and oppressive with Master's death. No. 8 kept everything moving, but it was clear that he was upset and having a hard time keeping himself together. There was talk among the others about leaving, but that was quickly shot down, because none of them, not even No. 8, had ever left the castle and had no idea what awaited outside as a result. No. 8 occasionally brought them news, including the deaths of Lexaeus, Larxene, Zexion, and Marluxia, and some wondered if that meant they could have the castle all to themselves.
No. 47 didn't know, and he honestly didn't care. He clung to No. 23 and barely spoke. He assisted with the work as needed, and ate and slept when he was supposed to, but that was all. He did not like the feeling of the lab anymore, and he longed to get away from it, even as the thought of leaving terrified him. He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching the lab, but he ignored it. It wasn't until silence swept through the lab again that he looked up.
A man was standing in the lab door, and he was clothed in red, with his face covered save for his eyes and mouth. He stared at the Replica's that were staring back at him in silence for the longest moment, and then with a single gesture, No. 19 exploded in a shower of gore. No. 47 screamed in horror, and he felt a hand clamp down over his mouth, and he was dragged towards the back of the room and shoved down under a table.
"Listen to me, 47." No. 23 said firmly yet urgently "No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear, you stay here and don't make a sound. Do you understand?" No. 47 whimpered in fear. What was happening? No. 23 shook him slightly. "Do you understand me?" No. 47 whimpered again and nodded, and No. 23 smiled sadly. "I love you." he said, and kissed No. 47 on the forehead before he stood up, and covered the table with a white drop cloth intended to protect the equipment that was not being used from dust. The cloth blocked out his view of the room, but it did nothing to mute the sound, and No. 47 scooted back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the cries and screams of the other Replicas as they died. He could hear the sounds of battle in the room, glass breaking, equipment being smashed, the crackle of ice magic, and the sounds that were heard whenever Master had used Darkness nearby. He heard liquids splattering on the walls and floor, and the thumping sounds that he somehow knew were bodies hitting the floor. The cries from the other Replicas vanished one by one, until there was only one left. Despite being told not to, No. 47 couldn't resist a peak, and he raised the cloth just enough to peer out from under it.
No. 8 was the only one left standing, the rest were lying still on the floor, and ice and darkness were flying from his hands as he fought against the red man, but nothing he did seemed to faze him. Finally, No. 8 fell as well as his ruptured heart burst from his chest. No. 47 let go of the cloth and backed up against the wall again and stuffed a fist in his mouth to muffle the scream that wanted to come out. He laid pressed against the wall, shivering in terror, as the red man muttered to himself. He heard more equipment being smashed, papers rustling, and then the crackle of flames.
The red man moved around the otherwise silent lab for an unmeasurable amount of time, before he walked out. Too terrified to move, No. 47 stayed huddled under the table for several hours. He heard the red man's voice once or twice, along with a girl's voice, but soon they were gone, and only then did he work up the courage to come out of hiding.
For the first time that he knew of, the lab was silent and still. He climbed to his feet and looked around. Blood covered the walls, floor, and ceiling, shattered glass and broken equipment littered the room, and lying on the floor, as still and silent as the lab, were the other Replicas. All of them were dead. Some were lying with their eyes closed, as though they were merely sleeping, others had looks of horror on their faces, still others looked as though they had died in agony. All of them were injured in some way, and in most cases, the visible injuries were obviously the cause of death.
He found No. 23 not too far away from the table. He was lying on his back, looking up with sightless eyes at the ceiling, with the back of his skull crushed. No. 47 looked down at him, and the horror of what had just happened crashed down on him, and he began to scream. He screamed, tore at his hair, and clawed at his face and arms, and after several minutes, his screaming tapered off into sobs as pain exploded in his chest with the realization that he was all alone. Everyone was gone.
Crying and shaking with his sobs, he laid down on the cold floor beside No. 23 and snuggled close to him. He laid his head down on the still chest and wrapped one of his arms around him and tried to pretend that he was really holding him.
"Please come back," he sobbed "Please don't leave me alone." There was no answer, and he cried himself to sleep.
When he woke, nothing had changed. The lab was still silent save for the sounds of his own breathing, and the other Replicas were still lying lifelessly on the floor. No. 23's arm was cold and stiff, and he had to wiggle out from under it before he could stand. He stood up and looked around for a moment before he realized what he had to do. Stepping over the bodies, he went to where No. 8 was lying, and heaved him up. It was difficult because the body was stiff and so much heavier than him, but he managed to heave him up onto his back and carry him slowly out of the room. He could hear No. 8's booted feet dragging along the floor as they went down the silent hallway, and the sound unnerved him greatly. It was almost like No. 8 was still alive and moving his feet, and it was so eerie that he stopped a few times to verify that no, No. 8 was not breathing, and that he was cold and lifeless.
He finally reached the incinerator room, and with a grunt of effort, he heaved the oldest Replica's corpse into the chute and watched it fall down into the roaring flames below. He then turned away and returned to the lab, where he picked up the next Replica, No. 38, and repeated the procedure.
Not counting himself, there were 29 other Replicas, and, one by one, he carried them all out of the lab and threw them into the incinerator, like he had been taught to do. The work was exhausting and mind numbing, which suited him just fine. Staying busy prevented him from thinking about what had just happened. He saved No. 23 for last, and by the time he got to him, he body was pliable once more, though it was colder than before. He sat No. 23 up and hugged him, and he began to cry as he hoisted him up onto his back and began to carry him out of the lab.
He approached the incinerator, and he paused. He didn't want to throw No. 23 in there; he didn't want to let go of him, but he had to. His instructions had been clear about cleaning the lab: anything that wasn't to be saved went into the incinerator. Crying, he gently lifted No. 23 up to the chute and watched him slide down to the fire below. He didn't look away as the flames began to devour the one that had cared for him, even though the tears blurred his vision and his chest heaved with sobs. Soon the fire grew so intense that he could no longer see No. 23 through the flames, and exhaustion and heartbreak made his knees buckle under him, and he collapsed to the floor in front of the incinerator.
When he woke later, the fire had gone out, and he could see nothing but smoky darkness as the bottom of the chute. Scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, he left the room and returned to the lab, where he began to clean up as he had been taught to do.
******
"I cleaned up the lab," Vexen said quietly as his father held him and rocked him on his lap. "That man had burned all the papers and destroyed the equipment. I cleaned up the mess and washed the blood off the walls and floor as best as I could. I couldn't get it all though." He looked down, wondering if Father would be angry with him for not cleaning up properly, but the man simply held him tighter and said nothing. "I stayed in the storage room, and slept on No. 23's blanket. I didn't touch the others', even when the castle got really cold. It made me feel sick to think about using the other blankets.
"I had bad dreams sometimes. Sometimes I dreamed of the red man coming back and throwing me in the incinerator with the others. Sometimes I dreamed of No. 23 crawling out of there, all burned and blackened, and he would crawl into the lab and ask why I had thrown him there. He would then try to hold me, but I wouldn't let him. He would get angry then and drag me back into the incinerator with him. Sometimes..." His chest hitched, and tears began to trickle out of his eyes and down his face. "Sometimes I would dream that nothing had happened, and everyone was still alive, and I wanted so much for those dreams to be real, but they never were.
"I ate out of the lab kitchen for a while, until that food ran out, and then I took food from the other kitchen that you and the others used. When that food ran out, I had to catch mice and rats and eat them. Sometimes they made me sick, but..."
Vexen fell silent and snuggled close to his father for a moment before he looked up at him. "Father?" he asked hesitantly "Did you know... that I was still alive?"
"No," Father said hoarsely – had he been crying too? "I had just been reborn a few months before I found you, and I was too unstable to do little more than sleep at first. Once I was feeling better, I never thought about Castle Oblivion. I had died there, and I tried to keep it out of my mind. I had gone back hoping to find something to interest me. I wasn't sure if any of you had survived. If I had known that you were alive, Vexen, I would have come for you sooner. I swear I would have."
Vexen nodded and laid his head against his father's chest and listened to the steady thump-thump of his heart. The horror of the events that had taken place over a year ago had mostly faded, but seeing the red man again... Vexen shuddered, and his father rocked him some more.
"I will keep him away from you, Vexen." Father promised "I don't care what it takes. He will not come near you again." Vexen felt a soft kiss on his hair. "I love you, little one, and I want you to feel safe here. If that means making sure that that man never looks at you again, then that is what I will do."
"How long was I alone there?"
Father sighed. "Fifteen months. You were alone for fifteen months."
"A long time."
"Yes, a very long time, and yet you survived, and are here still." Vexen snuggled close and said nothing more, Father rocked him, and they sat in silence for a long moment before Father spoke again.
"I have something for you to take," he said softly "that will help you sleep without dreaming. It's only temporary, so you can only have it a few times before I can no longer give it to you, but it will help you for now."
Vexen nodded, too tired to argue even if he had wanted to, and he drank down the dark liquid in the dropper that Father held up to him without a word. Almost immediately, his eyes sank shut, and he fell asleep on Father's lap with a quiet sigh.
******
Even gently laid Vexen down in the center of the larger bed and tucked him in. The poor child had been through so much; it was amazing that he was only badly wounded, not broken. He brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him on the forehead and just spent a few minutes watching him sleep. He then walked out into the living room, where Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan were sitting.
"Is he alright?" Dilan asked with genuine concern.
Even sighed. "As well as can be expected. I gave him a sedative to help him sleep, and I need to ask a favor of you three."
"Name it." Aeleus said, and Ienzo nodded in agreement.
"I need you to watch him and keep Ansem away from him while I am gone."
"Gone?" Ienzo asked "Where are you going?"
"Back to Castle Oblivion. I have something there that I need to collect. Will you watch him for me? I should be back by the time he wakes, but I don't want him to be alone after what he just told me."
"So Ansem did really kill them all?" Aeleus asked.
Even sighed again. "He did. Every single one except for Vexen, and the only reason Vexen was spared was because No. 23 hid him under a table."
"We'll look after him." Dilan said "Would you like one of us to go with you though?"
"No," Even shook his head "I need to do this alone." He summoned his black coat from his peg by the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Vexen will give you signs that he's starting to wake. If he does, come and get me. I want to be there with him when he wakes up." Ienzo, Aeleus, and Dilan nodded, and Even slipped his coat on and portaled out.
He portaled into the empty lab inside Castle Oblivion, and he went straight into the storage room where the Replicas had slept, where he quickly gathered up the handful of blankets that he found there. On the colder nights, the Replicas had slept grouped together to keep warm. He didn't find the blanket that he knew to belong to No. 8, which made his heart ache. The original Vexen had cared deeply for No. 8; he had just denied it to himself and never shown it, preferring to keep a professional distance from his creation.
Once he had the blankets piled together, which formed to create a depressingly thin stack, he grabbed a trash bag from their place in a cabinet and went back to his old rooms. There, in the bedroom closet, he found No. 23's blanket, and the blanket that had belonged to No. 8 until he had given it to No. 47. He remembered that blanket well; he remembered wrapping a newly born No. 8 in it and scolding him lightly for crying even as he cradled him and fed him his first bottle. No. 8 had grown attacked to his blanket quickly – one of his first words had been "blankie" - and Even had many memories of him snuggling with it, whether in bed, or in the original Vexen's arms, or on the floor. No. 8 had slept on a cot in Vexen's bedroom for quite a while, and it wasn't until other Replicas were born that he had voluntarily moved to the storage room to sleep with them.
Even sighed as he bagged up the two blankets and deposited them on the lab floor. Later, he would take them back to the castle and have them washed before giving them back to Vexen. He then grabbed a second bag, the stack of other blankets, and walked out of the lab to the incinerator. He went into the utility room under the chute room, and opened the door to the ash tray. Inside, on the floor of the tray, was a large pile of charred bones and bone fragments, all that remained of the other Replicas. Sitting the stack of blankets on the floor by the door, Even began to silently gather up the bones and deposit them on the blankets. He couldn't leave his Replicas here; they deserved so much more than to lie forgotten at the bottom of an incinerator. It took several hours to get them all, but once he had done that, he scooped up as much of the ashes as he could, using a large broom and dustpan intended for that very purpose, and poured them on the blankets with the bone pieces.
Once that was done, he wiped his hands off, and carefully folded the blankets over the bones and ashes, and then slipped the folded package into the bag that he had brought.
"I'm sorry." he whispered as he laid his hand over where the ashes and bones were "I'm sorry that, now that you're gone, I just now came back here for you I'm sorry that I didn't care for you. I'm sorry that I was so cruel to you. I'm so sorry, and I wish I could bring you all back, but while I can recreate a body perfectly, I cannot recreate your hearts and souls. Have you gone on, to whatever afterlife awaits? Are you living new lives even now? Please don't be trapped here, and if you are, please go on. Don't stay here, trapped in misery and anger." He bowed his head for a moment and reached out with his senses. To his immense relief, he could sense no wandering souls or hearts in the castle. Hopefully, they had all gone on to better lives.
Carefully picking up the bag and blanket wrapped remains, he walked out of the room and back to the lab. He picked up the bagged blankets there, and then portaled home, leaving the castle once again silent and empty.
******
Vexen shifted as he began to wake up, and he opened his eyes to find himself in his father's bed instead of his own.
"Vexen?' came Father's voice from nearby "Are you awake now, child?"
Vexen sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Father?"
"Right here, little one." Vexen looked over to see him sitting in a chair by the bed. "How do you feel?"
"Tired."
Father smiled gently at him. "Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Then go get your shower, and then we'll have breakfast."
Vexen nodded and got out of bed, and as he walked towards the bathroom, he noticed that Father looked very tired, like had hadn't slept at all. Hadn't he gone back to sleep after he'd given him the sedative? He would have to ask later. He quickly washed himself down, dried off, combed his hair, and dressed himself. He no longer needed Father's help for any of those things; he was a big boy now. The two had breakfast in silence, but once they had eaten, Father spoke:
"Go put your shoes and jacket on. We have someplace to go."
Vexen looked at him curiously, but Father said nothing else on the matter, so he did as he was told, and once that was done, Father gathered him to him, held him close, and portaled them both out of the room.
The stepped out of the portal in a grassy, flower filled meadow outside of town. A short distance away, he could see Aeleus, Ienzo, and Dilan standing by something on the ground. He looked at Father again, but the man said nothing, and only walked him towards the other three. When they got closer he realized they they were standing by a hole in the ground, and at the bottom of that hole was a pile of folded blankets, blankets that looked very familiar. He stared at them for a moment before he turned to Father, who was standing beside him.
"You went back and got them?" he asked as he began to cry.
"I did," Father said quietly "I couldn't leave them there."
"All of them?"
"Yes, I got them all. I wasn't going to leave anyone behind." Father wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, and Vexen buried his face in his shirt and cried. He finally let out the grief that he had held back while simply trying to survive in the abandoned castle.
"Where any of them still there?" he asked through his tears, hoping that Father would know what he meant.
Thankfully, Father did. "No, I checked, and they have all moved on." A hand gently smoothed down his hair "Let's put them to rest, okay?"
Vexen nodded, and at Father's instruction, he took a handful of dirt from the nearby pile and tossed it down into the grave. Father did so as well, and then so did the others. Only then did Aeleus gesture to the rest of the pile, and it flew into into the grave and compacted itself neatly inside. With another gesture a headstone appeared, formed out of granite, and an inscription etched itself into the stone while they watched.
When someone you love becomes a memory,
the memory becomes a treasure.
Here, sleeps ours.
"If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again." Father said quietly, and Vexen looked up to see a few tears tracking down his face as he looked at the grave. After a moment of silence, Ienzo, Dilan, and Aeleus walked away and portaled back to the castle, but Vexen and Even remained by the grave for some time, holding onto each other as they grieved.
******
That night, Vexen was awakened by soft crying, and he sat up in bed to see Father crying into a pillow. He climbed out of bed and climbed into Father's bed beside him and snuggled close. One of Father's arms came around him and held him tight, and Vexen kept silent while the other cried, silently offering the comfort that he had been given so many times. After several minutes, Father's cries quieted, and he sat up in bed and summoned Vexen's blankets over; the one that had belonged to No. 23, as well as the one that he had been given by No. 8. The maids had carefully washed and dried them, and he had been so happy to have them back. Father gently wrapped him in No. 23's blanket before tucking him under No. 8's. He then pulled him close, and Vexen snuggled into his chest and listened to his heart beating.
"I love you, Vexen." Father said quietly as he wrapped his arms around him, and Vexen smiled as he closed his eyes.
"I love you too, Daddy." he whispered, and then he fell asleep, warm, safe, and loved, nestled in his father's arms.
******
Holy god, it's finally done! Wheeeeeeeee! Cough anyway, for those that want to know, below is the timeline I used for the first 8 days of Vexen's life.
Day 0: No 47 is born. No. 23 cleans him, dresses him, feeds him, and then puts him to bed.
Day 1: Vexen examines No. 47 and takes note of the height deficiency. No. 47 is over a foot shorter than he should be. He thinks about destroying it, but No. 23 talks him out of it.
Day 2: No. 23 continues to care for No. 47, and he begins to wean him from the bottle.
Day 4: No 47 begins to walk and talk, though he is still very infant like. Vexen locks him in a closet as punishment and leaves him there for several hours.
Day 5: No. 23 takes No. 47 for a tour of the lower floors of Castle Oblivion, including the incinerator. They then return to the lab, but Vexen, enraged at Marluxia, storms into the lab. He takes his anger out on No. 47, reducing the Replica to tears, and tells him that when he returns from dealing with Sora, he'll get rid of him "like I should have had the day you were born!". Vexen goes off to face Sora and is then killed by Axel.
Day 5 - 6: The other Nobodies are killed by Sora.
Day 7: Ansem arrives in the castle, and he kills the other Replicas. No 23 hides No. 47 under a table, out of Ansem's sight, and then he too is killed. Once Ansem and Namine have gone, No. 47 crawls out from under the table and curls up beside No. 23's lifeless body, and cries.
Day 8: Remembering what he had been told, No. 47 carries the bodies of the other Replicas to the incinerator and throws them in. He then spends the next 15 months alone in the castle.
Part 1 --
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