_________ closing in ... }

He felt. God, he felt. He felt, and he tasted, and he touched, and he lived. Maybe the things he sensed from outside and within weren't that great, but he was aware of them, and that was what counted.

He could've sworn there was someone else there with him, holding his hand through it all. Sometime during the murky night before, he'd shifted and opened his eyes just a peek, and spotted unruly blond hair paired with blue eyes cold enough to chill anyone's heart.

Sora vaguely remembered yelling at Roxas, the appearance of a swift bluish animal. He remembered smacking his head on the door of Axel's car, and apologizing for bleeding all over Roxas. That was it, really. Sora wiggled his left arm experimentally. Something nagged, but mostly he just felt the strain of bandages wrapped from shoulder to shoulder, covering the vulnerable spot between his arm and his chest. Sora was still delicate in so many ways, as fragile yet sunny as the quiet blue drapes decorating the room.

Ah, sunlight. He felt better already. No one was around to talk to, unfortunately, and Sora had a lot to say. He wished he knew where he was. Maybe this was Roxas' relative's house, or something, and when Sora staggered into the hall he'd be greeted with that happy, bright-eyed smile-- the one he'd taught Roxas himself.

Sora touched both bare feet to the foor. Both were somewhat bandaged, much to his disdain. Maybe he could scare Roxas into thinking he was part mummy! Oh, man... He could make it out into the hall. He had the hope, and the stomach. One, two, three!

"Mmfm, floor..." He found himself introduced to bluish-gray carpet. It was only when he lifted his head again that he realized how dire the previous night had been. Or was it more? Maybe a week had passed without Sora's knowledge. Was Roxas okay? Of course he was! More importantly, Sora had his good leg beneath him, trying to push himself up with his good arm, and he only ended up tilting to one side.

"Sora!" a motherly but firm voice snapped in alarm. He blinked up into a fabulous pair of all-knowing green eyes framed with auburn. Warm hands, hands he remembered from his twilight sleep, looped around him and gently placed him back on the bed. A green smell-- flowers-- rolled off Aerith's long, freed curly hair. "What are you doing out of bed so early? You aren't ready yet."

Sora beamed at Aerith even though his arm nagged at him, a sinking down sort of feeling. "I'm ready for anything! I wanna see Roxas. Where is he?" Sora glanced around the room again. "He's here, right? Can you tell him I'm up?"

Aerith's small concerned smile wilted at the corners. "Sora, he's... he left with Axel and Demyx three days ago."

Sora faltered. "Oh..."

Aerith nudged his arm gently. "Here, I'll fix you up some breakfast, then we can talk about everything. Look over there-- I left you crutches..."