Genre: Smut, Romance, and a hint of Fluff
Ships?: Tony Stark/Zexion
Characters: Tony Zexion
Rating: R
Spoilers: Nope
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Ironman, or any related characters. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.
Music: One Minute Man by Missy Elliot
Notes:
Losing My Name
Wrong. Everything's gone wrong wrong wrong.
Worlds, people, colors, living, dying- they all blur past her as she dashes through corridor after corridor, hugging herself and choking from the scream which is locked within her own throat. Physical image don't matter anyway; her mind is too busy with memories that aren't her own, flooding the life she had been so happy to live. False friends who are not hers try to take the places of her loved ones among the Organization: pale silver hair and turquoise eyes trying to go over an image of a schemer who had smiled at her from shadows and kept her company, dark red twisting between short like her own hair and long and spiky, indigo eyes clashing with green.
Those are wrong. They don't belong, she doesn't want them there! But those aren't the only things. Lexaeus, her quiet and dependable protector, vanished (runaway), and Zexion, her partner who always kept his cool, he's... He's not himself and, worst of all, knows it, barring her from Prydain and its castle. And that Keyblade Hero the Organization wants dead...
The reality she has always known and comforted her is crumbling around her feet, and she is scared.
By this point, normally, she would have long collapsed from so much running and opening so many corridors, but she has something on her side- or, rather, in her hair. With each dash through a portal, the little paper crane hairclip seems to shine briefly purple. Her cloak and bustle are flying behind her as she continues her frantic pace, boots pounding on the ground. She has no idea where she's going... But anywhere would be better than an Organization world. She... wouldn't be able to bear another one.
At long last, something finally brings her mad running to a stop: a simple misstep, a trip on a crack or something. She crashes, hard, and finally, her legs refuse to propel her forward. All she feels she can do is kneel there on her hands and knees, head bowed and choked sobs coming forth as tears begin to splatter against the pavement. What feels like hours pass, but the tears still sting her eyes and her throat remains clogged. It takes her even longer for her to realize that there's someone crouched before her, a hand offered.
The person before her is strange indeed. His skin isn't the usual peach or dark brown, but instead a strange green, and rough stitches can just barely been seen from between his collar opening. The most startling thing, however, are his eyes. They glow a bright kind of red orange, a brighter beacon than any streetlight. Xion thinks she can see tufts of white from beneath his fedora. He doesn't say a word, but she takes his hand anyway, shaking so badly she thinks she'll fall apart.
It's when he pulls her to her feet that he finally speaks. "Are you lost?"
Is she? Xion doesn't know. It's true she has no idea what world she's on... But on a deeper level... Definitely. She bows her head. "I don't know who I am," she admits. The hand holding her own tightens so briefly, Xion thinks she's imagined it.
"If it's any consolation," the stranger says, voice deadpan but not cruel, "than neither do I."
With that admission, Xion falls apart, reveals everything, even if the details are missing. The amnesia when she first woke up, gathering her cherished friends, the memories of a person who simply isn't her. The man who now sits besides her on a park bench seems to understand it all. When's all said and done, they simply sit in silence, tension inside released and the night calm. Finally, he reaches over to lightly touch the paper crane in her hair.
"What is this?"
She reaches up gently, fingers overlapping his own lightly. "It's.... It's something a close friend of mine made..." The hand removes itself, and when she looks up, Xion sees he's staring at it. It's truly just a guess, but she thinks he looks thoughtful. Of course, the exhaustion is hitting her hard, now, finally catching up to her. Slumping against his shoulder, Xion feels herself losing to the darkness behind her eyelids. The last thing she can manage is a soft and defeated whisper.
"And... I'm losing him... too."
