Author: Trilies
Genre: Drama, Musical
Word length: 1997
Sypnosis: Vexen needs a reminder of who he is and why he does what he does. Good thing the Largo family is always willing to... 'help'.
Yaoi/Yuri/Pairings: familyship Papa!Xemnas + Larxene&Saix&Marluxia, familyship Vexen/Lucrecia Crescent + Xion
Notes: More of the Repo crossing over! And one day, I will rewrite the scene with that poor and rather familiar victim so that he gets a nicer scene and is not dead. Because I really feel bad about that. XD
Night Surgeon
Being manhandled is high on his list of "Things Vexen Does Not Like", and in any other circumstances, he would easily take a scalpel to the face of those touching him. This situation isn't so kind; not only is it the two Largo brothers who are 'gearing him up', so to speak, but he's in no position in the first place to refuse. The blonde can only remain icily silent, face twisted into a look of extreme distaste as Marluxia laughs softly and poisonously near his ear, taking his time in invading Vexen's space. They're on a schedule, however, and to Vexen's relief, he realizes they're quickly finishing up.
He's making a point to try and kill his emotions, strangle them and shove them in a body bag. Wouldn't that make things just so much easier? It's a proven method; more than once has Vexen gone through the procedure, and emerged in his helmet and black coat an empty emotionless shell of a man. It's normally so easy, but then he makes the mistake of looking somewhere besides just straight in front of him, and his eyes meet glittering cruel amber. That gaze reminds him exactly why he's here, what sharp words Xemnas had used to drag forth all those unpleasant memories that lurk below the surface. With his brow furrowing, Vexen finds himself closing his eyes. He whispers to himself, hoping to keep the words private save for the one person who needs them yet can't possibly hear... "Dear Lucrecia, I am so sorry. Can you forgive me for this...?" She had always seen the best in him before. What would she say now, with this monster in the place of the man she had loved?
A familiar grip is suddenly on his neck, and Vexen hisses as he's dragged out through the doors like some ill-behaved dog. He barely has time to process the image of the pale icy blue of a freezer room and things hanging when Xemnas' voice is in his ear. "Not the debt doctor, with the hungry scalpel!" A hand (Xemnas, Saix, Marluxia's, whose-?) shoves him forward, and Vexen's feet end up tangling so that he slams onto his knees. He hisses, but Xemnas is still talking. "Here's my prognosis; will they live?"
There's a clicking of a gun, and when Vexen glances to the side, he can recognize one of the Largo patriarch's bodyguards, a dark-skinned beauty with silver hair and eyes hidden by sunglasses. "Doubtful," Hala says, short and bittersweet.
Three different sets of distinct footsteps are following Vexen in, and he immediately focuses his gaze downwards again, not wanting to look at the face of the person in front of him, the poor b*****d who had borrowed organs and money from the wrong person... Saix seems to have no problem, in contrast, and strides past the repoman with a dark smirk on his face. "You're the street physician, carving flesh sculptures."
"Paint your a** like-a Rembrandt!" Marluxia adds, voice right behind Vexen as the blond man tries to get to his feet. "Ha..." Right as he's in a crouch, Vexen feels a shoe against him back that just shoves him back down again. Silently snarling, he snaps his head up- but that's just what Marluxia had wanted, smirking back at the repoman as he gently lays a hand on the back of a small wooden chair. "You like that?"
If Vexen is supposed to reply to that, he doesn't, can't- his eyes are locked on the person tied into the chair, a young man with messy dirty blond hair. At some point, it might have been a tiny mohawk or some such, but now it just falls in his face and down his neck. Mismatched eyes stare at him in horror, wider than they have a right to be. Vexen looks right back down, fists clenched at his sides as he tries to erase the image; he never had to deal with any of this before, never, was always careful-
"Better start praying when you see him coming," Xemnas says smoothly, striding with simple clicks of his shoes past him.
"Because tonight it's curtains!" Saix adds, dark amusement lacing his voice. Their voices come together for one more accusation:
"You're the night surgeon!"
"Remember who you are..." The words are spoken by two new foreign voices and the clack of high heels. Vexen doesn't have to look up to know who they are: Lore, Marluxia's particular favorite, and Ragnhild, Saix's. They daintily push along a metal cart, and Vexen doesn't want to see the things on it... But he stopped having choices in this damned affair years ago.
"I remember," he replies quietly, hoping that will shut them up, but it's a hollow little thing; perhaps the two Genterns can sense that.
"Remember what you did to Lucrecia!" They go around him while the Largo siblings circle him, like a pair of vicious sharks. The comparison is fitting enough, certainly. Deeper voices, from other employees here, accompany that with another reminder. "Remember who you are!"
"I remember!" This time, it tears out of his voice like a snarl, and for a moment, his acidic glare can be seen for one moment before it's hidden behind blond hair once more.
The high heels stop their infernal clacking, right behind him, and so stops the clicking of heels. Their voices are softer, now, as if they give a damn. "Remember what you did..."
Xemnas' order snaps through their words, not a request, but an order. "See your knife!" A flash of white in Vexen's view, and he can see one of the genterns kneels not too far from him. Her short pink hair is bobbed around her face, perfectly framing that devious smirk as she let's a heavy scalpel catch the light. Then it's screeching against the ground as she slides it over to him. He refuses to pick it up, just stares at it, face twisted into an unreadable look full of emotion before he weakly closes his eyes, even as Marluxia is hissing, "See it glide!"
"Remember!" Lore coos, tone delighted.
Saix's voice is closer, growling into his ear as the scarred man picks up the tool. "See it slice!" And dammit, but Vexen can almost hear it cut through the air...
"Remember!" Ragnhild's is just as soft, but sharper.
"Who's your night surgeon?" Marluxia almost laughs, mocking the beaten man who still has the gall to try and defy the wishes of his 'masters'.
Xemnas is the next to speak, but it's not to Vexen, now; no, it's to the unfortunate gagged and bound to the chair. "Hope you have my money..."
The bound man tries to speak through his restraints, muffled voice practically leaking the tears Vexen refuses to look at, but then Marluxia is sneering, "Or it's buon viagg-ee!"
"He'll do your a** like dishes!" An odd on by some one in the tiny little group which watches, perhaps in sick amusement.
"Amputation," Saix suggests, and Vexen point blank refuses to look now; he has enough on his mind, and doesn't need that disconcerting expression of quiet sadism to take up any room.
"Remember who you are!" It's not just the genterns, or the watchers, now, but it seems like everyone is accusing him with that sentence.
Softly, darkly, Vexen hisses, "I remember!"
"Remember what you did to Lucrecia!" the Genterns practically sing, Hala's voice accompanying them.
"Remember who you are..."
"I remember!" Vexen's gaze snaps up, desperate, pained, and angry all at once. No matter how many time he tries to tell, tries to get them to shut up about a thing he could never, ever forget, they continue to jab at him, prod at him, get under his skin until finally-
"I remember!" Heavy boots slam into the ground, and Vexen is suddenly on his feet, face livid with anger and hatred. It melts away to be replaced by terrible sadness, accentuated by pain. "I remember every dying whisper," he says quietly, voice loud in the sudden silence his outburst had brought on, "every desperate murmur." He closes his eyes again, light shining against his face as he directs it to the ceiling before bowing his head again. A broken man stands in that room, now, remembering an event that scarred his heart. Some might see him useless...
But, Xemnas thinks with a smile that can only be described as evil, every broken thing has its shards that can be used to cut flesh. Glancing down at the debtor, Xemnas can only raise an eyebrow in distant amusement as he catches the sad, pitying look the dirty haired victim is giving Vexen. Does he perhaps feel a bit of sadness for their precious, most skilled 'night surgeon'? Well. That won't last long.
Unaware of either looks, Vexen only continues talking to himself, or perhaps to a woman he lost once long ago. "I remember when I gaze upon her, she almost looks exactly like you... I remember... I remember!"
His fingers, once limping hanging from their joints, suddenly curl up tight against his palm, and Vexen's voice becomes sharper than any iceburg.
"I remember marking every victim with acute precision..." Out of nowhere, he's suddenly bold, whirling about to glare venomously at Lore in a way that actually manages to make the woman jerk backwards in shock. What's frightening isn't the venom, but how distant he is, cold and aloof, and how he makes her seem like a frog stuck to a tray... She takes another hesitant step backwards when he comes towards her, swiping the scalpel from her hand. For a minute, she's sure he'll take that blade to her, but then he's turning away. He inspects the tool in his hand, twisting it about as if checking for flaws, all while saying quietly, "I remember every time I hold you, my sharp companion." His gaze suddenly flickers over to the bound man, who shrinks back in alarm the closer he gets. "When I remember... I dismember!"
A desperate muffled scream from the man is cut short with a swing of Vexen's hand; instead of screams, there's only a quiet gurgle, and a bright red line which digs deep into the victim's neck. His eyes are wide, tears leaking down his cheeks and staining the gag. No longer can he speak, not with his throat slit...
It's obvious that the young man will die. However, Xemnas thinks with his eyes narrowing in satisfaction, Vexen always seems to have quite the amount of pent up stress... Once he gets started, he doesn't always stop right away.
"Because the claims medic gives no anesthetic," Vexen sneers, eyes narrowing in a manner similar to his employer's, although more in disdain than delight. His scalpel continues to slice through skin and muscle without a care; to others, perhaps it seems reckless, but his nickname is not 'the night surgeon' for no reason. Each and every slice is perfectly calculated to get just what they need... ."90-days delinquent gets you repo treatment." A smooth cut down the deathly cold chest, revealing bone and organs. "I'm the masked horror on your street corner, make your mother mourn you..." Another simple cut, and it all comes spilling out onto the now dead man's lap.
And that's just what the rest want to see. "You're the night surgeon!" As if it's something to be proud of.
Coming to his sense, Vexen just squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his grip on the scalpel. "I remember..." The scalpel clatters to the ground. He can feel Xemnas', and everyone else's, eyes on him as he swiftly turns around, storming to the door. Conviction is strong in his chest as he opens his eyes, glaring back at Xemnas. Always, always he's lived in fear and debt to this man, but... No. Not this. "I cannot do this job," he says, voice soft and firm as he stops between the two genterns. "Find some else." Each word seems punctuated, some how, and then he continues on his way. Xemnas voice is calling out behind him, refusing to let his prize weapon go-
But then the doors slam shut, and Vexen is gone.
