"Roxas—!" Axel didn't see what he was doing until it was too late. For the first time his strategy had turned inside out and was being thrown against him. Axel didn't care though. At once his barriers were down. A blast of blizzard to the face? He could take it, and he did, even as he felt the icy pain spreading across his exposed skin. But then there was more of a torrent, Roxas' strength of heart granting him more power for at least this last goal, and it threw Axel back. "Roxas! Roxas, stop!"
But his cries fell on deaf ears. He scraped to his feet, made one last break for it. If he could just reach his best friend, if he could, if he could—
—but it wasn't meant to be. The gravity sucked him in and he couldn't move, couldn't do a goddamned thing as he watched his best friend die before his eyes.
"ROXAS!"
Again.
It was just the same as before. That little smile. That all-forgiving, it's-going-to-be-okay smile. How many times had Ansem tortured him with that image? How many times? And how many more had Axel tortured himself with that memory?
The spell faded and dropped Axel in a heap on the ground. He recovered quickly and sped to Roxas' side, even though he knew it was too late. He summoned a Potion out of his pocket and held it to Roxas' lips, but it was no use. He dropped it.
His words were supposed to be venomous, but they were choked, thick with rage and grief. "You idiot. You idiot. You weren't supposed to die here. It was supposed to be me! You could have continued going from world to world without me for a while, as long as you needed, and... I lied again. I want to come home, Roxas. But not without you and Naminé. So this whole thing was—"
His right hand began to glow. Axel stared first in awe, and then utter contempt as a Keyblade formed, bearing the shape and coloration of chakrams. It was the last straw, and he tossed it aside, even though he knew it'd come back.
Axel passed through the dying ring of flames with the blond boy cradled carefully in his arms. The whole exchange hadn't taken more than a few minutes. He had the strength to pick up Roxas' body or hold back his tears, but not both.
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But his cries fell on deaf ears. He scraped to his feet, made one last break for it. If he could just reach his best friend, if he could, if he could—
—but it wasn't meant to be. The gravity sucked him in and he couldn't move, couldn't do a goddamned thing as he watched his best friend die before his eyes.
"ROXAS!"
Again.
It was just the same as before. That little smile. That all-forgiving, it's-going-to-be-okay smile. How many times had Ansem tortured him with that image? How many times? And how many more had Axel tortured himself with that memory?
The spell faded and dropped Axel in a heap on the ground. He recovered quickly and sped to Roxas' side, even though he knew it was too late. He summoned a Potion out of his pocket and held it to Roxas' lips, but it was no use. He dropped it.
His words were supposed to be venomous, but they were choked, thick with rage and grief. "You idiot. You idiot. You weren't supposed to die here. It was supposed to be me! You could have continued going from world to world without me for a while, as long as you needed, and... I lied again. I want to come home, Roxas. But not without you and Naminé. So this whole thing was—"
His right hand began to glow. Axel stared first in awe, and then utter contempt as a Keyblade formed, bearing the shape and coloration of chakrams. It was the last straw, and he tossed it aside, even though he knew it'd come back.
Axel passed through the dying ring of flames with the blond boy cradled carefully in his arms. The whole exchange hadn't taken more than a few minutes. He had the strength to pick up Roxas' body or hold back his tears, but not both.