Rating-M
Disclaimer- Don't own, don't sue, only own concept and my Oc's
A/N- This was written for my friend, thelastunicorn who has actually written a response to this, she was the one who convinced me to put it up and if she wishes I suppose I may continue with it, I do as she wishes and as the reviewers wish so tell me if you want more n.n
WKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKHe could sense it as he moved through the darkness, stealthily progressing through the pitch-black corridors as if they were lit by a thousand candles. His heartbeat was purposely slow and steady, his breathing calm and even, each step careful and well thought out, avoiding making any sound if it could be prevented. Yet he sensed it, the eyes watching him, studying every move he made, could feel invisible hands tugging at his clothes, trying to pull him in every direction as if they couldn't make up their minds where they wanted to take him to. Another step forward and he heard a gentle creaking sound from behind him, he stopped immediately his breathing become shallow as he listened to the area around him. Nothing…
"Siberian?" The voice came through the communications device in his ear in a hushed whisper that momentarily snapped him back into rational thought, slipping from the tiger like being that he became when he was stalking out the target on a mission. It was just him and Omi this time, Aya and Yohji hadn't been required, it was a simple enough job, one that only needed use of Bombay's technology and hacking skills and Siberian's strength, power, and physical agility.
"Is everything ok Bombay?" Siberian asked, standing with his back to a wall so that nothing could attack him from behind. It was unlikely that such a thing would happen, he would most likely sense the oncoming person before they even got close to him, still it was better to be safe than sorry. During missions like these his life was in his own hands, Omi was on the other side of the building and if he fucked up then that was it, better to be paranoid than six feet under. "Bombay?"
"Everything's fine over here Siberian, I'm a little concerned about you though, the camera's are picking up some weird stuff. Siberian watch…"
That had been the last thing he'd heard before everything went black… XxxxxXOcean eyes fell closed, his head pounding, it had been a simple routine mission, nothing to worry about they had said, nothing to worry about…
He bit his bottom lip until it bled, his fingernails clawing at the stretch of skin leading from his wrists up to the crease of his elbows, desperate to forget…
XxxxxXAll he knew was that he couldn't move, that the room he was in was cold and dark and that he couldn't move, his head was pounding, he knew that he had been hit with something, knew that the wound had bled. Knew that his hair was now matted with drying flaking blood, he groaned fighting against the darkness that kept threatening to pull him from consciousness, he had to stay awake. They would come for him soon and he had to be awake for the lecture he was sure to receive. Not that he really wanted to stay awake but it was for the best.
They would never let him forget it if they had to break in to save him and then to top it all off carry him home. He sighed, his vision blurring, spotting, turning black, he fought against it, staying awake, constantly fighting the black that would coat his eyes, telling him to come, to fall into the arms of unconsciousness like a small child would into a mother's embrace.
He refused, as much as he wanted to just let go, to lose the throbbing inside his skull to blissful numbness. He refused, he had to stay awake, they would come and they would need him to be awake and alert…
XxxxxXThey never came and he wondered what was worse, what had happened to him after that, or the mere fact that they hadn't deemed him important enough to come after him. He chuckled, a dark malicious sound that bounced off of the walls only to return to him seconds later,
He knew how things worked, he was replaceable, they were all replaceable, didn't mean it hurt any less. A shiver ran up his spine despite the warmth of the room and he fell back against the couch, allowing it to consume him as best it could. His head hurt and he didn't want to remember, because it hurt. It hurt too much…
XxxxxXHe was strapped to a table, various people wandering around wearing white coats, he could feel the needle for the drip in the back of his hand, could hear people talking, people moving around him. He groaned, chuckling, finding some sort of sick amusement in the fact that he was still here. That he truly meant so little,
He was worthless…
Unimportant…
He had served his purpose only to be thrown away like a broken doll, he never asked what the people were doing, he always just waited for them to realise he was awake before injecting him with yet another sedative to send him back into a world of twisted dreams. His world of twisted dreams, where he killed with people whom at one point he had believed were his friends… sometimes you can be so foolish…
XxxxxX
He briefly considered, what they had done to him, and he shuddered at the thoughts, he knew what they had caused him to become but that was as much his old team's fault as it was theirs. He chuckled again, he didn't want to know what they had done, because that meant facing certain truths that he knew he didn't want to face. Not now and not ever, he leaned forward, grasping blindly at the bottle of pills and downing more than he should have, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin atop his knees.
Waiting for the pills to take effect, waiting for the blissful numbness, he heard the door to the apartment open, heard footsteps leading up to the couch he didn't look back. He didn't have to, it wasn't that he didn't have to be cautious anymore because he pretty much figured he had to be more cautious now than ever. It was simply that he didn't care if someone was currently stood behind him with a dagger in hand ready to slit his throat,
He just didn't care…
Take my life, I don't need it anymore…His mind offered, and he chuckled, a hand was placed onto his shoulder, squeezing softly, comfortingly. He almost wished he could replace the comforting act with the harsh bite of a dagger cutting through the soft flesh of his neck, ripping and tearing making way for an ocean of blood. Blood… the colour of death… the colour of…
He stopped his thoughts and grabbed the bottle of pills, taking a few more, the male behind him sighed, frowning softly. He sat down beside the other, lifting the bottle from him and finding his shaking hand in the darkness. Holding it tightly, trying to offer him comfort, protection, love that he knew the other couldn't accept.
"Why are you sitting here in the dark again, downing those pills like they're your answer to everything, they're not you know. They're not an answer, they just make you forget the question," and he knew it was true, he smirked, looking at the others face despite the darkness.
"Exactly, no question, no thoughts, no memories," he muttered, the sound distant, isolated, somewhat removed from reality.
"You're fucked up you know that kid," he chuckled again seeing the other run a hand through his hair in the pitch black.
"I know, but it's not my fault," he sounded childlike, sure he was young but not as young as he sounded then, the other leaned forward hugging him tightly as the other chuckled almost insanely into his chest.
"I know kid, I know,"
XxxxxXHe was cold and in more pain than he could ever remember being in previously, he hated this, he was sedated and kept under medication at all times. Keeping him permanently locked in a world that was half reality half dream. He didn't know what they did to him here, losing huge chunks of his life from one day to the next in twisted dreams of a life that no longer existed. He cried, he screamed, he clawed and bit at his arms hoping to dig deep enough to pierce a vein or an artery and end it all.
He stared at the too white bandages on his wrists and remembered how he had nearly escaped, so nearly…
There had been so much blood, pouring from his right wrist as he began to bite into the other, tearing at the flesh that lay there and spitting it out when it came off in large chunks. The pain searing, burning, almost enough to make him pass out before he had reached his goal, almost…
Yes there had been so much blood that day… and he had remembered…
Remembered…
So he dug at little deeper and bit a little harder…
XxxxxX
He glanced up at the older man smirking, grabbing hold of long black silken hair, burying his head into his chest and musing over the thought that he could rip his heart out quite easily. Bite and tear until he reached the organ and then yank it from its red confines with his teeth. He chuckled again, he had once caught sight of a man doing exactly that, Farfarello, did he equal the berserker in terms of insanity now. Or did he surpass him, was he even more fucked up…
He seemed to like the thought,
"Do you want me to turn on the light?" the younger shook his head, sighing and twirling the others long black hair around an index finger,
"No… the light hurts… it burns… I don't like it," he muttered, chuckling once again, "my head hurts… pounds… make it stop." Almost transparent blue eyes stared up at the elder pleadingly, he sighed, nodding.
"Ok, I went out and got some more stuff for you, do you want me to do it?" The younger chuckled, holding up his hand and watching it shake in the minimal lighting, the younger seemed to contemplate for a minute before burying his head into the juncture between the elders shoulder and neck.
"Um hm, I think it would be best," he muttered, lips moving against the soft skin of the others neck, "we don't want a repeat of last time," he chuckled the elder shook his head, stroking his companion's back slowly.
"No, we don't…"
"So much blood, always so much blood, the colour of his hair… crimson… so beautiful…"
"What about me Kura, what colours my hair?" He asked, as he turned on the small light on the table beside them, the younger hissed at the sudden invasion of light. The elder ran a hand through his hair apologetically, "sorry, I need to see what I'm doing, well chibi, what colour's my hair?" He asked again, the younger smirked, leaning up and gripping onto the silken locks once again.
"Black, black as the night, black like numbness and forgetting and all things good," he muttered, the elder nodded, opening a clean needle and attaching it to a syringe which he then filled with a liquid in an unnamed vial. Gripping the others arm he began to push the long black sleeve up.
"That's right Kura, and what colour is yours?" The elder asked, keeping him distracted as he stared at the mess of bandages and scars that covered the younger's arm.
"Black like yours and red like his," he explained, watching the elder intently,
"What colour was it before I dyed it for you?" he asked as he pushed the needle into the younger's skin, emptying the contents of the syringe into his arm.
"Brown,"
"Yeah," the elder nodded, removing the needle and throwing it into the waste bin beside the couch, "yeah it was," the younger sagged against him as he rolled the sleeve back down, hiding the scared, bruised, cut, bandaged arm that it had previously concealed.
"It was shorter then too, and I used to like the light, it didn't hurt back then, like it does now. I was normal then… well… sort of, better than I am now, now I'm insane. Why do you put up with me Hiroki?" He asked, whispered words mumbled against his chest, he smirked running a hand through the younger's multi-coloured hair.
"Because I care about you Kuronue, I want to protect you to keep you safe," he muttered, placing a gentle kiss atop the younger's head.
"Do you love me?" Kuronue asked, glancing up before resting his head on the elder's shoulder, Hiroki smiled.
"Very much," a shadow played across the darkness, a slight huff heard as a woman passed the doorway,
"She doesn't like me," the younger muttered, no emotion in his voice showing if he cared if she did or if she didn't.
"She worries is all,"
"Worries that I'll kill her in her sleep, or that I'll take you away from her?" The younger asked, Hiroki smiled gently, meeting the younger's eyes,
"Perhaps a little bit of both," Hiroki explained, tangling his hand into the black and red mix belonging to the other male.
"Do you love her?" Kuronue asked softly, drawing invisible patterns on the elders chest.
"Yes," the younger seemed to contemplate this for a moment before smiling, and nodding,
"I'm glad, but… I… I don't know, I'm jealous," he muttered softly,
"Of Chigusa… why?"
"Because if it wasn't for her you'd be mine… but if you love her… it's alright… I don't mind, he was the same you know. I loved him but he loved her and that's why he didn't come for me because he doesn't love me… but you do…" Hiroki smiled warmly and nodded,
"As much as I can when my heart is split between two, yes Kura, I love you very much," another kiss this time placed on the younger's forehead. The younger went to ask something but the question died on his lips. "What did you want to ask,"
"Nothing, it doesn't matter… it's quiet now, in my head, I can't remember the question, the answers, a beautiful black haze concealing everything I want to forget. Well…" He explained voice soft, even more distant than it was to begin with.
"That's good," the elder told him, rubbing his back soothingly like a mother would to prompt an infant to sleep.
"Is it… I can't forget everything… never… no matter what I do…" Hiroki nodded understandably, smiling gently,
"That's because you don't want to forget…" Hiroki explained, oh but he did, he wanted to forget the things he could not the most and no matter how much pain he inflicted upon himself. No matter how much blood he spilled, no matter how many drugs he injected into his veins, how many unnamed pills he swallowed he couldn't forget. It was enough to make him cry, or throw himself off of the roof of the building whatever was most convenient. "Stop," he stroked through his companion's hair, Kuronue looking up at him in confusion,
"Stop what?" he asked softly,
"Thinking like that," he demanded, voice harsh, the younger chuckled, shaking his head.
"Hiroki, you can't hear what I'm thinking… you're not mastermind," Hiroki didn't understand that, he didn't understand a lot of what the other said, little snippets of a past life he didn't wish to relive or remember. That's all it ever was, little snippets, names, places, nicknames, that's all. Never enough to truly understand.
"No, I can't hear what you're thinking Kura but I know all the same, I know you too well not to," The elder explained,
XxxxxXHow long had he been there, waiting, always waiting for something, someone he knew would never come, he chuckled as he licked at a line of blood that slipped from a tear in his skin, where he had bitten off a chunk of flesh once again. Wanting the pain and the numbness, wanting to forget, wanting streams of crimson to carry his haunting memories away from him. He chuckled mindlessly, thinking how proud he would make Beserker if the Schwartz psychopath ever happened to chance upon him in his current state.
Insane, tearing himself apart piece by piece, and cursing whatever being had left him here to rot, cursing his team… his 'friends' and a God that he did not believe existed. Therein lied the only difference between he and Farfarello, that he could see anyway, Farfarello wanted revenge on God and he… well he wanted revenge on himself…
He chuckled, he was a strange one, both he and Farfarello and the parallels between them made him chuckle all the more.
XxxxxX"Yet another black sheep in amongst the flock, ne Beserker…" he muttered softly, wondering if Mastermind was listening to him, laughing at him, relaying everything to his white-haired lover for that was what they were. He had stumbled upon them once during a mission, Beserker pushed up against a wall, Mastermind kissing him, groping him. He chuckled, a perfect opportunity right… could have killed them there and then or so he had said, he had screamed at him, hitting him.
He couldn't have, they'd seen him…
XxxxxXThat one amber orb opened, staring directly at him, a smirk playing across pale scarred lips as he watched the kitten watching them. He knew that Schuldig knew he was there too because he chuckled and his voice slipped into his head, asking if he wanted to join in. He had stumbled backwards, turning and running away, Farfarello's voice in his head, telling him to run…
Run little kitten… run to your leader…
Run to protection…
XxxxxX
No Beserker… he was never protection…
He was anger personified, anger and grief and hatred for the world around him, running to him was like running to a wall. Strong, impenetrable, isolating,
Running to him was running to unrequited love and pain a thousand times stronger than any blade thrust into his gut. Running to him was running to insanity, yet even now, deranged as he was and with the papers to prove it, he still wanted more, more of the stoic insanity that bled from the other and into him. More pain and more hatred aimed at the world that always fell upon those closet at the time.
Running to him was suicide, he had threatened more than once to kill him, if he ran to him now and he promised the same, what would he do? Retreat like he had then? No, he'd throw himself onto the blade and push himself against the hilt, begging him to take it all away, the pain, the light, the memory, the betrayal, the scars, the confusion… the things he couldn't forget no matter how much he tried.
However despite the pain of running there, he always got what he wanted in the end right…
"I can't forget… the things I want to the most… no drug can take them away Hiroki…" he muttered lost in the darkness as he fell through it, clinging to the elder as if for dear life despite wanting to fall.
He couldn't forget…
Couldn't forget the red…
Couldn't forget Weiss…
That he had once been an assassin for Weiss, for Kritiker, that he had once loved a teammate, who had refused to come and get him when he had needed him the most. That they had been his friends and had betrayed him… like Kase who subsequently he could also not forget.
Couldn't forget Schwartz…
Couldn't forget that once upon a time far from the time he was currently living, he had been Siberian, an assassin who killed at night under the instruction of a man named Persia and a woman called Manx. Couldn't forget that he had been a man who killed to avenge lost souls, people wrongfully murdered, that he had killed for a justice stained with the blood of a million innocents. Couldn't forget that during the day he had worked in a flower shop as a cover with three other men, who were also his teammates… his friends… or so he had believed.
Couldn't forget that he had been betrayed by all of them, left to rot in a dark dank cell, that they had never even tried to rescue him. Bombay, Balinese and Abyssinian… how they had betrayed him… far worse than Kase…
All of this he couldn't forget, just like he couldn't forget what he wanted to the most…
That he had once loved the light he now feared, that he had once been happy, free from horrific memories of dark cells and an even darker past. That he had once played soccer, coaching the local kids… that he had once lived without the drugs and the pain and the scars.
Couldn't forget that he was once…
Hidaka Ken…
WKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKAlright if you like it and want more let me know, also please check out thelastunicorns fic that's sort of a parallel to this entitled I Will Find You.
Thanks for reading n.n
xxx