The Price: Despair

[eiahmon]

Title: The Price
Rating: R for the mansex even if it's not graphic.
Disclaimer: Disney and Square Enix own it all, though I wouldn't mind “renting” Xehanort for a while. He's just so cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute – even when he's summoning his keyblade and yanking out hearts with it.
Summary: After everyone rejects him, Xehanort can no longer bear the anguish.

Despair

Xehanort plodded listlessly down the darkened streets of Radiant Garden, scarcely paying attention to where he was going. His hair was dirty and tangled, his clothes unwashed and rumpled, but he didn't care. He was well beyond caring about his appearance. His face was pale and sticky with dried tears, but despite the despair that filled his broken heart, no new tears fell. He was past the point of crying; too numb to express the pain that raged within him.

No one cared. No one scolded him about letting his hygiene slip. No one noticed that he had stopped eating days ago and had lost an alarming amount of weight. No one came to check on him when he cried out in his restless sleep as nightmares plagued his nights. No one said a word whenever Braig slammed him down onto the nearest flat surface and fucked him until he screamed. He was beneath their notice now.

Whores didn't deserve kindness and love in Radiant Garden.

The night that Master Ansem had found him and Braig in bed together, he had hoped that maybe, it would end. Braig would stop stalking him, and things could go back to normal. But they hadn't. Upon finding out that Xehanort had been willing, Ansem had rejected him, and the other apprentices followed his lead, shunning the one that they had once cared so much for. Even, Dilan, and Aeleus quit speaking to him, and they forbade Ienzo from speaking to him as well. If he walked into a room with any of them, they either left or stared at him so hard that he left himself, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere. His chair vanished from the dining table, and it was made clear to him that he was no longer welcome to eat with them. At first, the servants had brought him meals in his rooms, but then that had stopped as well. The servants began to ignore him entirely, and they whispered about him, about the whore that had been using Braig. No one listened to him; no one gave him a chance to explain.

Hoping to escape the misery in the castle, he had begun spending as much time as he could in town, but soon the rumors and whispers spread there as well, and more than a few angry citizens had pelted him with rocks and garbage. Unable to escape the hostility, he had isolated himself in his rooms.

No one spoke to him.

No one came to check on him.

No one even seemed to notice that had hidden himself away.

Life in the castle and town continued around him like normal, only now, he was no longer welcome to be a part of it.

During those countless days and nights, he saw only Braig, during the marksman's many visits to his room. Those visits often left Xehanort bleeding and crying on the floor, bed, couch, or whatever Braig had tossed him down onto, but soon Xehanort stopped crying, stopped struggling, and just stopped reacting. He had crossed the line from pain to numbness, and he had lain face down on the floor where Braig had left him, unmoving, for several days, until Master Ansem had come in.

"Stop this foolishness, Xehanort." the lord of Radiant Garden had demanded "There is nothing wrong with you. This is your own fault; you brought it on yourself. I expect you, bathed, dressed, and ready to work, in the labs tomorrow morning." The older man had stomped out then, slamming the door behind him, and it was then that Xehanort began to cry as his heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

Those would be the last tears he would ever cry.

He had eventually dragged himself up from the floor, straightened his clothing so that he was fully covered, and wandered out of the castle.

Which is how he found himself wandering aimlessly through the darkened streets, lost and alone, wishing desperately for some kind of release from the pit of despair that his life had become. Weak from starvation and thirst, he stumbled and fell to the cobblestone street, and he cried out in pain as his head struck the hard stone. Nearby a door opened, and a voice called out.

"Get out of here, you whore! We don't want your kind around here!"

A rock struck him between the shoulder blades as he struggled to stand, and he dragged himself down the street, only hoping to get away from the residential areas into a place that was more isolated. A place where he could lie down and die.

He wandered through the night, and at some point, the sound of moving water penetrated the fog around his mind, and he realized that he was close to the Rising Falls. He walked a bit more and soon he was standing on the rocky platform that looked out over the yawning chasm.

Even had told him about the Rising Falls two and a half years ago, as he had lain in the infirmary recovering from his injuries. Ansem's great-grandfather had created them, using a mix of technology and magic, which allowed him to make water defy gravity and fall up instead of down. Xehanort had been unable to believe it, so, with the doctor's permission, Even had taken him there to see them as soon as he had been deemed well enough to stay out of bed for a few hours. He remembered that Even had laughed at his stunned expression, and once they were back at the castle and Xehanort was securely tucked into bed, he had explained that the falls had been closed off long ago due to how dangerous they were. The magic and machines that created them caused a dangerous vortex to form at the bottom, invisible from above. Several people had drowned in them within a few years of their creation, so they had been closed off and access to them had been blocked. Other than the staff that maintained them, only a select few could get in to them now, and only with Ansem's permission.

Evidently, someone on that maintenance staff had left the gates open, which Xehanort was suddenly glad for as he stared down at the bottom of the falls. He couldn't see the vortex, but he could hear it. The roar that many people associated with the rising water was mostly caused by the swirling water below. As Xehanort stood on the ledge and felt the breeze from the moving water ruffling his grimy hair and clothes, he realized that the falls could provide the out he was looking for. All he would have to do is lean forward and... Even had told him that the currents at the bottom were so powerful that little more than shredded fragments of those that drowned were ever found. It would be perfect.

Xehanort!

He ignored the frantic voice in his head as he stepped closer to the edge. They would never find him; they might never even figure out where he had gone. That is, if they even bothered to try and find out. It might take days for someone to notice that he was missing. Not that it mattered; no one would miss him anyway.

Because no one missed a whore.

Xehanort! Don't do it, Xehanort!

He couldn't see the bottom of the falls in the darkness, but he knew how far of a fall it was; he and Dilan had once spent a lazy afternoon throwing various things into the water. He knew that it was take him approximately 4.7 seconds to reach the bottom once he stepped off. Once he hit bottom, the powerful currents would drag him into the vortex; there would be no escaping it. He shuffled closer to the edge and took a deep breath. This was it; everything would be alright soon.

It doesn't have to end this way!

Xehanort closed his eyes and simply leaned forward. After less than a second, he felt gravity exert its pull on his body, and his feet left the ledge. He felt the cold, damp wind on his face, felt himself falling, heard the roaring of the water growing louder and closer.

And then nothing.

It was three days before anyone noticed that he was missing. It was even longer before they learned where he had gone. Once of the workmen for the Rising Falls found scraps of a lab coat floating on the water, but there was no sign of a body. That wasn't surprising, however, the currents tore apart anything that they touched.

The workman went to Ansem and explained what he had found, but the lord of Radiant Garden was unmoved by the discovery. Instead of saddened at the apparent suicide of his apprentice, he was angered at the boy's cowardice, and in a fit of rage, he demanded that the portrait of the one that he had once loved as a son be taken down and destroyed and that the name of Xehanort never be uttered in the world again. Most agreed with his request. They were better off without Xehanort anyway, they all said.

All, except one.

Once word of Xehanort's suicide reached his ears, Even found himself plagued by doubt and guilt. He finally ignored his master's words and put his mind to work, and what he realized unsettled him greatly, and he was ashamed of his actions. Only after Xehanort was gone did he realize that he had persecuted an innocent victim and had helped drive him to suicide.

Sitting alone in his rooms, Even buried his face in his hands and cried as the guilt and grief clawed at his heart.

"Even?" Even looked up to see Ienzo standing in front of him; he hadn't even heard the child come in.

"What is it, Ienzo?"

"Are you okay?"

Even wiped his tears away as best he could, and a quick burst of ice magic did wonders for the red and puffy eyes. "I'm fine. What do you need?"

Ienzo gave him a long look before he spoke. "You promised to take me into town for ice cream today."

"I did, didn't I? Well, there is no time like the present." He stood up from his chair. ''Shall we?"

A half hour later, as they sat at a table outside the ice cream parlor with their ice cream, Even paid scarce attention to Ienzo as the child chattered away. Instead his mind was on Xehanort again, and he was finding it difficult not to start crying again where he sat. Swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking the tears back, he let his gaze roam around the busy streets around them, and -

What?

"Xehanort?" he breathed, scarcely able to believe his eyes. A person stood in the nearby street, and even though the hair was brown, and the eyes were blue, the resemblance to Xehanort was uncanny. No, it couldn't be Xehanort, but was that the purple fabric of an ascot tied to the hilt of the strange weapon he was carrying?

The person gave him a gentle smile and nodded at him and then vanished into the crowd.

"Even?" Ienzo asked, and Even looked back at the child seated across from him. "Are you okay?"

Even looked back at where the person had been standing to see no one, but that face... That smile...

Oddly comforted by the person's gentle smile, as if he had known the cause of Even's turmoil, Even smiled at Ienzo.

"I'm alright." he said "Let's finish our ice cream before it melts."

Ienzo nodded enthusiastically, and Even looked back at the street.

"Good luck, Xehanort." he said softly.


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