A/N: My first chapter fic. Joy. This is my take on what happens between episodes 21 and 22, after the whole military installation/Neu/death defying toxin plot line. Of course, spoilers for that epi. I never understood how Bombay was having trouble breathing and just miraculously was cured, so here's my own answer. Plus... I love to hurt the boys, so any time I get to hurt them a little more goes well for me. It gets quite dark for Yohji later on (early as chapter 2, I think), but it's not a Yohji fic. It's a Weiss fic. I love the boys equally. Now Schwartz would be a different matter :hugs her Schu and Nagi plushies:. Oh yes, Schwartz and Schrient will make appearances later on. Enjoy!

Disclaimer - The members of Weiss, Schwartz and Schrient, unfortunately, do not belong to me. I'm a poor college student and own nothing but a few helpings of Ramen, so please, no suing me.

Chapter 1

The slow, constant machinery whirls and sporadic bleeps of a nearby monitor were the only things that dared make noise in the otherwise quiet room; the bare, white walls, nearly blindingly so in their intensity, somehow seeming to make each noise much louder than they actually were. Upon long bouts with the annoying company, it could nearly cause a grown man to think of reaching out for insanity and gladly grabbing hold of its thorny roots, ready to become one with the feeling if only it could knock the damned noises out of their skull.

Ken Hidaka was teetering precariously on the edge of that decision.

The very air was thick with worry, those sitting around the room unable to mask their feelings of regret and concern for the young man lying motionless under light blue sheets. An oxygen mask covered thin lips which had, thankfully, finally turned a shade closer to normal, rather than how they'd nearly matched the bed sheets only a few hours before hand. Dampened towels cooled heated skin at strategically placed areas on the body. An IV fluid bag hung ominously from it's peg on the wall, connected into tender skin at the crook of an elbow by a rather large needle, medical tape keeping the life-support linked into the boy's vein.

Ken winced to see such a thing. He hated needles. The way they looked, the way they felt. Hated even more knowing that the boy needed one to stay alive. Not that it would bother the patient so much. After all, he used them, daily, in ways that would make the hospital staff cringe.

How ironic was that? The only thing that was keeping their youngest member alive, was also the thing that the boy had used to take life, time and time again.

Death was definitely not a new foe for the men of Weiss. It was more of a friend than anything. They treated it as a job, like any other. A little florist work in the day, and a little murder at night, at which time they hoped none of the blood staining their clothes was actually their own. Blood was a life force, but they were seeing first hand just what happened when that circulating fluid was contaminated.

"C'mon Omi, you can't sleep all day and night. We gotta open the shop in the mornin', so stop makin' us worry or else we won't get any sleep. Don't do this to us," Ken spouted off the first rambling's of his mind, intertwining his fingers with the young assassins free hand and squeezing gently, just to prove to the unconscious form that he was there with him. A brotherly bond had formed between the four men of Weiss, most notably when they hadn't been looking for it.

Some might say they had their little clicks within the four-man group, leaving someone out at times, but that was just plain crazy talk. If that was the case, they'd most likely be dead by now. Teamwork meant trust. Ken knew he trusted these men, these friends.

Sure, Aya was the stoic, reserved one, even now leaning against the far wall as if merely his presence could hurt the already wounded adolescent. The man got along with his teammates about as well as oil and water, but he was there for them when they needed him the most, even if at times they did have to wait for him to come to his senses.

Yohji tried to pretend that women and smokes were all he cared about, but anyone with half a brain could tell that he felt much more than that. They were his family. Sure, families bickered now and again, screamed, swore, even threw punches that still physically hurt when recalled, but they were also there for you when it was needed. All hostilities and shortcomings seemingly vanishing into the misty night air when preparing themselves and each other for whatever might come their way.

Omi was... hell, Omi was 'Omi'. The kid didn't let things get him down, knowing others would pick up on his depression and feel responsible when the feeling spread like wildfire. It happened to be that depression was contagious; someone feeling as though they had to mirror that particular mood so that the party-in-question wouldn't be alone in it. He could even make Aya smile, even though it was a rare occurrence. Very rare.

And himself. Ken couldn't come up with words to describe himself. It just didn't seem right. He cared about all the members of Weiss, but especially Omi. The younger brother he never had. The bond he had with Omi wasn't at all like that of his soccer kids, or the other men, but something else. It was hard to explain to anyone who didn't have the same type of feelings. Perhaps he was trying to make up for what had happened with Kase...

Yeah, whatever. He didn't want to think about that right now.

Whatever the case, the bond wasn't going to be cut as easily as this. It couldn't be. Omi was tougher than that, a little poison and Schreient was not going to come between them.

Ken had pulled his chair up close to the bed, one hand still locked with Omi's, while the other pillowed his head on an empty piece of mattress.

Lost in thought.

Thinking. It was all he could do. Sit, think and worry, then repeat. A man could go crazy from such dull things. It was clear as to what he should be doing though...

The not-so-sane part of him wanted to storm out and hunt down the women of Schreient, tear them limb from limb and carve hundreds of bloody crevices with his bugnuks into each of their laughing little heads. He really wanted to see who would 'have the last laugh'. Schoen's bitter laugh still rang in his ears as she'd told them about the military installations little chemical problems, just fueling the fire and nearly causing Ken to forego any logical thought left within him.

However, every so often (like now, for instance) Omi would moan weakly behind the mask, effectively dousing any desire to kill as efficiently as throwing the ocean atop a campfire. Overkill, but effective.

"Shhh, Omi, it's ok... we're here. Ken, Aya and Yoh..." with a quick hitch in his voice that turned to a startled mew, Ken looked around the room. Where was Yohji?

"Aya?"

"Rooftop."

The redhead hadn't even lifted his chin from where it rested against his chest to answer. Typical Aya, Ken thought blearily. The man knew his question before it was even being asked, and what was creepier still, he knew how to answer it as well.

Ken slowly moved his gaze back to the unhealthy youth, his eyes first settling on white-encased ankle. It'd been twisted as a strange angle from the sudden connection with the cave-in, a few of the bones broken and needing alignment. Higher up, Ken could make out the rough outline of bandage wraps under thin sheets. One on each leg, from the scrapes he'd received falling into a hole. That damn, cursed hole. The wounds themselves were hardly bad enough to cause bleeding, but whatever substance had been coating the rock walls was what kept Omi bedridden with failing health. Some sort of toxin, Schoen had said, but the doctors knew nothing. They'd try different antidotes until something worked. Not the best of tactics, but when nothing else would work, what could be done?

The pale, clammy skin hadn't changed much though, still as sickly as possible. Not at all considered healthy; not by anyone's standards. A slight flush had appeared over the rounded cheeks ever since Ken had cradled Omi's limp body in his arms, that damn metal bar effectively cutting off any escape from their in-ground prison as Aya and Yohji had fought the women of Schreient.

Thinking of this wouldn't make it any better. At least he seemed to be doing better. That was something, right?

His thoughts drifted back to their arrival at the large hospital. Kritiker run, of course. After hearing a few choice words of information, the staff had immediately taken a limp, hardly breathing Omi from the hesitant arms of one truly worried Siberian. Only a few seconds of pacing had passed before the dull throb of fear, which had settled deep within his chest, had snapped into a full, blown out rage when he'd heard Omi labored screaming down the hallway.

"OMI!" Ken's call could be heard by every patient within the hospital, and each of them would've known what fear really meant by the sheer tone of his voice. He'd slammed open the doors that read 'Hospital Personnel Only' and ran towards the choked sounds of a struggle, Aya and Yohji hot on his heels.

"... him down! Now!... Where's that dose!" The doctor, only noted as such by a white labcoat and the way in which he gave orders, governed the small exam room. Two nurses accompanied him, carrying out the commands.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Ken screamed, nearly making it across the room to forcefully rip one orderly off the bed where he was holding a thrashing Omi down before Yohji grabbed his arm. The blond shook his head as if trying to dispel Ken's nearly murderous rage.

"Get them outta here!" the gray-haired doctor slammed his hand against a red wall button, the other hand pointing to the threesome. He was used to getting his way, being who he was, and considering the rumors of these men in front of him, he wasn't taking any chances.

"OMI!" Ken watched helplessly as a nurse tied the convulsing body down, restraints biting painfully into already tender wrists and ankles. There was blood atop the sheets, glistening in the glow of neon lights and a stark contrast to the otherwise white room. It made a trail along the cotton from Omi's mouth, bright red that just screamed it was fresh from either his stomach or lungs.

"He'll be fine, just please let us do our work. You can see him in a little while, once we get him under control," one of the nurses pushed him away. It was all nonsense that she spouted off, stuff that they were paid to say. Had paid to learn. Anyway, 'a little while' always meant a few hours, or more. Ken was no idiot.

"Screw that! Get off Omi! Let him go!"

"Security!" the aggravated doctor spotted the officers he'd rang for earlier, waving them into the room and pointing to Ken as if he were a deranged psychopath. At the moment, it wasn't that far from the truth.

Two beefy security men, decked out in the dark blue of the hospital staff, grabbed him by each arm. For one moment Ken wished he hadn't of taken off his glove so he could disembowel the men hurting Omi as he struggled against his own bonds.

"Ken, calm down! They're helping him... who else would they get to do their dirty work? They need us, remember that! They aren't gonna hurt him... now calm down and let them work!" At some point in his tirade, Yohji had dug his thumbs painfully into the crooks of Ken's neck, forcing him to regain some ounce of self.

It was the truth, whether Ken liked it or not.

"Now let him go," the blond had turned to the officers, eyes glinting with something other than rage. One of the men laughed, though it stopped abruptly with the presence of Aya's hand on his shoulder.

"You heard him."

Snorting derisively to cover his slip-up of 'mean-man security', the man gave a confirming nod to his partner and the two of them let Ken go simultaneously. Siberian had calmed down enough to be ushered out of the room, Omi's frantic moans having died down with a dose of some sort of medication. He was no longer thrashing, and that, to Ken, was good enough.

That was how many hours ago? Ken wondered at this, his eyes too bleary to get a good view of his watch. The scent of sterility that only a hospital could afford slowly burned at his gut. The fact he hadn't eaten since before the mission wasn't helping matters all that much, either, but he didn't want to leave Omi.

"Go."

How was it that Aya always seemed to be able to read a person's mind? Was he related to Schwartz? A mocking snort issued forth from Ken at his own stupidity. The rumblings of his stomach could be heard down the hall, so it was no big surprise that Aya could tell.

"I'll watch over him. Go."

The brown-haired assassin tilted his head towards his leader at that. Aya usually said, 'I'll watch him' when one of them was in trouble. There was a difference. There was a difference in his tone as well; much more sincere and... caring, than usual.

"Yeah, ok. You want anything?"

"No, but Yohji probably does. Even if he doesn't know it."

The same would go for Aya as well. The man could be the most stubborn bastard when he wanted to be. "Alright." Well, if Aya wanted to protect Omi, then he'd allow him that. It was a rare occurrence, to be cared for by the usually despondent man. Plus, the youth seemed to be doing better. There'd be no hurt in leaving for a few moments.

"I'll be back in a bit," and with that, Ken scooted off the chair, untangling his hand from Omi's and made his way out the door, a lingering glance at the bed before he disappeared from sight.

From the corner of his eye, Aya watched the ex-soccer player leave the room with heavy footfalls. Waiting until they'd faded down the hall, the swordsman took a deep breath before continuing in his silent vigil for their youngest.

End Chapter 1