A Different Kind of Door Ficbit – Keys

“Roxas?” Pence’s voice shook as he dodged edged white. “What the heck is that?”

“The Keyblade… protects someone who’s willing to protect the worlds,” Roxas breathed. “And it unlocks… any door….”

He dove and rolled through a gauntlet of twisting white, a gold glow striking out from the Keyblade to fling locked infirmary doors wide open. “Hayner, go! Get help!” He fell into stance in a white nest of blades, lashed out and dodged without conscious thought. “I can handle this!”

“But-”

“Go!” Janet ordered, as more white creatures dashed to block the door again. Hayner grimaced, leapt out-

Slam.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Olette yelped.

“Don’t know,” Roxas quipped, dodging another pale blade. “I can’t remember.” Wait for it, wait- Move!

It was like walking. Running. Breathing. He didn’t have to remember how or when he’d learned this. He just had to know that these were people he was trying to protect, and let the Keyblade and his body handle the rest.

A last white form dissolved around steel. Roxas held his crouch a moment more, waiting for any other flicker of movement. Stood, turning a tired smile Olette and Pence’s way-

Fear.

He felt it, breathing over his skin; saw it plain in pale faces, wide eyes looking back at him. The sight of it vanished a heartbeat later, as they gave him tentative grins… but he knew what he could feel.

No fear around Janet. Just focus, and sober calculation, which didn’t help Roxas’ nerves at all-

Clap. Clap. Clap.

“Roxas. All right. Fight, fight, fight.”

Janet’s head shot up, indignant. Roxas whirled toward that warm, manic voice, stomach suddenly churning, panic and relief and no little bit of anger all mixed together. Why? “Who are you?”

“You really don’t remember.” Black boots crossed the distance between them; a black coat flared gracefully as knees dipped in an ironic curtsey. “It’s me.” Knees straightened, bringing their owner back to his full, thin height, as the redhead gestured grandly at himself. “You know; Axel.”

“Axel…?” Unconsciously, his left hand crept up to etched silver.

Safeties clicked off. “You, we can shoot,” Pence said matter-of-factly.