Chapter 14

.

"Damn, it! Hold him still, Yuuri!"

Like a child being squirted with a garden hose, Wolfram shouted protests as Yuu pelted him with freezing waterballs, perfectly styled blond hair plastered against his face and dripping down into his eyes. When the chaos started, the double black had turned to the soldiers next to him, both of whom were Wolfram's men, and demanded their canteens. Reaching in with his magic, he managed to get three glittering waterballs out of them. But having a steady target had been his main issue.

Two of the projectiles hit Wolfram's hand, putting out the flame, and the last splashed the blond bishonen in the face. Yuuri, kneeling behind him, took part of the spray, too. He shook his head like a wet dog, but held on nonetheless—determined not to let go of Wolfram out of fear.

The healer managed to weave herself through the group. Ignoring the wet grass, she sat before Wolfram and Yuuri, getting her bottom soaked immediately. "Must…get these off!" Gissela ordered, manhandling the warm metal cuffs. "Unbuckle him!" she shouted at Yuuri—meaning the leather ties at the shoulders and sides that kept the front plate and the back plate together.

At the first touch, Yuuri felt drained, lethargic—out of the sudden fear or the exposure to Wolfram's armor, he didn't know which. But, from his short experience, being near the blond and his fingers gliding over metal and leather, he made a connection. There was a build up of power—and a sensation that could easily spin out of control if he didn't concentrate hard enough. The maou spirit within himself struggled again and seemed to threaten to come out. Not right now! Wolf needs help. And I can do this on my own. No, I need to do this for him… on my own.

Yuuri unbuckled the leather straps, freeing Wolfram. And, in doing so, he noticed the blond's body wilting in his arms. The double black chucked the worthless thing away. Never, in a million years, would he allow Wolfram to touch it again. They'd find another way. That's all there was to it.

"Exactly what did you do to these rocks?" Gissela demanded of Anissina who had one of the cuffs in her hand. Gissela inspected the twin with a soured look.

"It's a dampening spell applied to an elixir of grappa with an active ingredient of bala root and a brief exposure to unakite. Instead of waiting for the usual week of applications, I used my "Speed-up-the-process-kun."

Gissela nodded as she examined the cuff again. "In theory, it should have worked because it could dampen magic without causing an imbalance within the body," the healer admitted. "But I would have made it for you if you'd have asked."

The inventor shook her head in agreement. Yes, asking for help probably would have been better. But, she had been so eager to fix things. If she made the mess, she wanted to be the one to clean it up.

"As it is," Gissela said, touching Wolfram's forehead and gently moving dripping wet bang's from his closed eyes, "this armor is just too powerful for him." She felt the pulse in his neck. "Even the original soldiers had no more than four stones set in their armor."

She glanced at the inventor. Anissina's trying too hard. I'd better work to keep an eye on her. "That's why I think we should team up from now on." She forced a smile that she didn't feel at the moment. Angry as she was, directing it at Anissina would only cause a rift. There was no way around it. She would have to model the patience and control that the situation needed. This would make things better for everyone.

Low murmuring and words of concern caught her hears. The healer could feel the stares of the people gathered 'round. Another problem. This isn't a show.

A groan.

Both Gissela and Anissina turned to Wolfram. He was soaked to the skin, passed out, and leaning heavily against Yuuri—head back and resting on his shoulder. The blond was folded into a black-clad chest with arms hugging him tightly.

"He's burned," Yuuri said piteously. "His hand…burned…"

Yuuri's fingers trailed down the right arm and reached the palm. A green glow came. He buried his face into Wolfram's cold, soaked neck as he produced a warm, healing flow into the limp hand.

Conrad glanced behind him, eyes cutting to the side. There was a body directly behind his—one that held onto him around the chest when the trouble started and was still holding onto him now. "Yozak." Coming back to himself, the spy immediately let go of his captain.

"My apologies," he muttered, feeling uncomfortable now. On some level, though, he felt grateful that all of the attention was still directed at Wolfram.

"When did you get back?" he asked, distracted. Half of his interest was still directed at Yuuri and Wolfram.

"I was here long enough," Yozak answered, coming closer to Conrad's ear to make their conversation more private, "to see that you were about to dive into a situation to save you brother. However…"

The face was smooth, serene. But, the eyes held an angry glint. After all of their years together, it was impossible to miss. "However…?"

Even tone.

Not good.

He glanced at Gissela. She had taken over for Yuuri and was healing Wolfram's palm. The blond, however, was still unconscious.

"We're not like them. We can't do what they do." Sky blue eyes peered deeply. "And my body just moved on its own." He turned to leave. Maybe, he'd go back to his quarters to take a nap. That last scouting trip to find The Gaki made him stay awake for two days straight. And, tonight, he might have to go out again. In fact, he'd prefer it. "So, I won't apologize."

He could feel Conrad's cross stare boring into his back, but Yozak was too exhausted to care. It was another one of their "non-arguments." And he wasn't in the mood.

Kenneth and Murata looked on as Yuuri straightened his back and forced himself up, keeping Wolfram his arms as he did so. The twins, with dual detachment, simply stood there with a flash of light shielding their eyes.

"Did you hear what Anissina said about the elixir she used?"

"Yes, I did."

He leaned in to Murata. "Do you think that we can find a better one at Shinou's Temple?"

A broad grin. "Yes…and I think Ulrike may know a few things to help us, too." He walked over and fetched the breastplate, hooking a finger into the opening of a buckle. Then, he leaned over to Anissina and Gissela—taking the cuffs, too. "We have an idea," Murata murmured and set off before they could say anything.

Returning to Kenneth's side, dark auras began to seep off rapidly from the cuffs and breast plate, clouding his vision. The double black squinted a few times, pushing himself to move forward.

"I'll take these," Kenneth said politely. The cuffs were now in his hands and he walked closely to the double black, shoulder to shoulder to prop him up. "Lean on me…if you need to, Murata."

Murata, head clearing, turned to his side and noticed the enigmatic smile.

"Thank you," he said.

"Well, you can pay me back tonight," came the sexy voice. Kenneth was only half serious about it. He knew too well that Murata had his pride, even though he often projected the image of a carefree youth.

"Hmmm…" came the buttery voice next to him. "I just might take you up on that."

They made their way to the stables. Ulrike would definitely have some advice for them to follow.

Going in the opposite direction, feet trudged through the grass.

Yuuri felt himself pale. Wolfram was in his arms, a rag doll. Add to the fact that he was much lighter than Yuuri had predicted that he would be. Sure, they'd wrestled together, fought together with swords. But, he'd never actually picked the blond up. The double black just assumed that there was more weight to him. He was wrong. Yuuri worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Even when he's at his most desperate…he still calls out for you…only you," Yuu said, walking at Yuuri's side as they headed for the castle.

Holding Wolfram against his chest—a precious burden—Yuuri felt a blush to his face.

"He truly…belongs to you," Yuu stated. But it was more than that and Yuuri knew it. I was an admission of defeat with a touch of envy.

"But, it's good to know," Yuu went on with Wolfgang trailing behind him, hearing him, "that somewhere, in some world, I'm…happy." He smiled inwardly at that thought. Wolfram wasn't his, exactly, but, in a way, he was.

Wolfgang gritted his teeth at that. He had the sudden desire to drive his fist into a wall. Instead, he stomped on a tall weed and got his right trouser leg all covered in thorns.

Far behind the others, Gissela walked along in a thinly disguised huff. This had turned out far worse than she had anticipated. It annoyed her that her advice was being brushed off in favor of Anissina chaotic plans. But, on the other hand, she could understand why.

"Gissela?"

The healer was shaken out of her thoughts by Gwendal. He'd stopped walking with the others to allow her the chance to catch up.

He took a quick breath and released it.

"I know that you're…displeased about the situation," he began diplomatically. He had thanked Shinou that he'd brought her along for this—knowing that something might possibly go wrong. Once it did, he came to realize how important she was to him.

Gissela stepped lightly over a trodden on weed. "And I know that you're worried about your brother," she said back, cutting through what she knew to be male "ego" and getting to the heart of the matter. He was worried about Wolfram, definitely worried—the lines on his face had hardened. His blond baby brother is still out cold, people are distressed, someone has to be in authority to give guidance and order... "And I'm going to check him over as soon as I can," she explained. "I'll have my assistant attend to him and then I'll take over. I'll stay up with him all day and night, if necessary." She forced a reassuring smile.

"Still…I can see that…you're upset," he went on, just slightly ahead of her. He glanced down over his shoulder to see if she was still with him, paying attention.

Gissela walked with her hands behind her back and remained a few paces behind.

"I'm not mad," she said.

"Really?" He raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Hm," she hummed in a decidedly lighter tone.

"Why don't I believe you? Could it be that you're lagging behind to avoid me?" With him being so preoccupied with Wolfram's situation and Anissina's schemes, he didn't need to be fighting with Gissela, too.

The healer huffed. She didn't want to do this. But, being blunt was, quite obviously, the only option left. "Could it be," she muttered with a note of sarcasm, "that I've been sitting in damp grass while healing my patient and my butt is wet?" Talk about embarrassing! Ugh!

She brushed the huge, almost heart-shaped damp spot across her posterior as though that would make it dry before reaching the castle where everyone would soon see. Blades of grass fell off.

Gwendal's hand twitched a movement and she glared a warning. They were in public!

"And, no, I don't need help brushing the rest of it off."

"Of course." But a man can dream…

"Tell Gissela that I've brought him here instead of the infirmary," Yuuri said evenly as he laid Wolfram out on the bed—their bed. The blond opened his eyes weakly and then closed them again.

"He's regaining consciousness. That's good," Gissela's assistant returned with a bit of relief in her voice. She cocked her head to one side with a smile before straightening up and making notations on her clipboard.

Wolfram shifted slightly on the bed, curling into himself lethargically. Immediately, Yuuri took his hand. The assistant smiled at that, too, as she stepped away.

There was a muffled "thump" in the background as the door closed. Yuuri's mind barely registered that the two of them were now alone. Only the blond filled his vision.

"Cold," came the moan beneath him.

Cold? Of course, you would be. And, after all of that fire you used up, I'm certain that…

"Oi, Wolfram?" Yuuri said as he leaned down to the soft features that were prettier than any girl had ever been—lithe body, spun gold hair, alabaster skin, pale lips parted. "I'm going to take off your wet clothes and put you into your gown."

He got no response.

It would have been better, more practical, to have Gissela's assistant help undress Wolfram. But, Yuuri knew how shy Wolfram could be about certain situations even though he often came across as bold and fearless. Yuuri could remember times when they'd been naked together in the baths without it being a problem. And, he knew that Gissela's assistant had undressed Wolfram before. However, in their room, in this place, it might be a different matter entirely with the two of them undressing him together.

Summoning up his courage, Yuuri stepped to the closet and got out a night gown that was apricot with blue ribbons down the front. He placed it on the bed and circled around to Wolfram. The boots were gone after a few struggles to get them off. The coat was equally difficult—requiring that he roll Wolfram a bit to get the arms out. The neckchain was simple once he figured out the clasps. But, once Yuuri got to the clammy, wet shirt that was sticking transparently against Wolfram's pale skin, he had to pause to think. No, I really need to do this. If I don't someone else will. Forcing back the thought of an angry Wolfram hurling fireballs at him for getting too "fresh" with him while he was passed out, Yuuri unbuttoned the shirt and, with some minor struggles, removed it.

The shirt hit the floor with a strangely satisfying "smack."

Now, the trousers.

Yuuri chewed his bottom lip. He had to do this. If he could just keep his hands from shaking, it would be a lot better. With effort, his hands went to the buckle. He grabbed the end. He slid the leather back. And again. How strange to be doing this to somebody else. It felt almost backward. On myself is one thing…automatic, but… He blinked and realized that part was done. Yes, the belt was easy enough when he distracted himself. But, now…

The button…the zipper…!

He could feel his heartbeat pick up as he unfastened and unzipped Wolfram's dark blue military trousers. The double black hooked his fingers into the waistband. Uncomfortable and awkward in his own skin, he, nevertheless, began to slide them down the narrow hips only to reveal white legs—slim and perfectly proportioned.

The emerald eyes opened.

Yuuri jumped back. Oh, no! What if he thinks I'm about to molest him?! No…no…no… I can't…I…

"Yuuri?" the blond groaned. "'M…so…cold…" He tried to turn onto his side, but he had no energy. His legs felt tangled in cloth, maybe. He wasn't sure. "Never be…warm again…" His naked body shook and his bottom lip quivered. Half opened eyes pleading.

"Wolf?" Yuuri said and remembered what Yuu had told him. 'Even when he's at his most desperate…he still calls out for you...only you.' The double black felt a little relief at that. It was true. Wolfram had called for him, needed him.

Pride be damned.

Yuuri straightened back his shoulders and lifted his head. "I'm taking care of you, Wolf. Trust me, okay?"

The green eyes slid shut. "Always," he whispered.

"Wha-?" He blinked at the shivering body below him. Then, with purpose, Yuuri pulled the trousers all the way off and tossed them carelessly onto the chair. He grabbed the gown and opened the buttons hiding behind the row of blue ribbons.

"Here we go, Wolf." Yuuri put the gown over Wolfram's head and reached inside. He slid the arms in and brought the rest of the gown down over Wolram's black thong underwear.

Wolfram struggled—still exhausted. Somehow, he managed to curl cutely into the warmth of the dry clothes. He opened his green eyes a little more when he felt a gentle push. Yuuri turned down the covers and then rolled Wolfram's body back and in between the sheets. The covers then came up to Wolfram's nose.

There was a blond, mussed-up curled head with half-mooned emerald eyes that peeped out.

"Warm enough now?" the double black asked, leaning in with hands on his hips.

There was a pause before Wolfram muffled a "no."

Onyx eyes narrowed, concerned. "Do you need a blanket or anything?"

"No." Wolfram shivered and snuggled in again. He could feel his connection with the elements but his magic was low, incredibly low. In his mind's eye, the flame was there and it danced, flickered with life. But, had Yuu not distracted him, he would have gladly spent all that he was and all that he had on some worthless straw dummies just to show off. He felt foolish. What kind of responsible man was that? What kind of soldier? What kind of parent? Stupid, that's what.

"Yuuri?" Sad green eyes stole a look at him again from under the covers.

"Yes?"

"I failed you," he sighed. "Once I'm stronger…I'll find a way to use that armor and…"

"No! What are you saying?! There's no way I'll allow it!" Yuuri's eyes narrowed, fists now clinched at his sides. He was boiling. He'd grown so angry so quickly that his first instinct was to slap Wolfram, as weak as the fire Mazoku was, all over again. In spite of his "sweetness and light" reputation, he wasn't beyond giving a good hand to the face when someone deserved it. And, saying such a dim-witted, self-destructive thing was on the borderline of a face slap or, at least, a dope slap.

From the look on Yuuri's face, it was clear that he was heated. But, Wolfram was just too exhausted to argue. And his conscience still nagged at him for all that had gone wrong. If only he'd been a stronger person. If only he hadn't paraded around like some peacock. Too much pride when training. How many times had he drilled that into his own men? Embarrassing. Ridiculous. A waste. "Sorry," was all he could utter before the thought occurred that he should just escape Yuuri's angry face by going to sleep.

Wha-? Yuuri thought, frowning at the word. He'd really expected this to be another one of their on-going arguments. But, it wasn't and the blond was in no shape for one. Picking on the weak. That's what it felt like now. "No… You…actually…did your best," Yuuri admitted, thinking back on it and recognizing the tone he had taken with Wolfram was a near copy of a scolding he got not too long ago from his brother, Shori, on an entirely different topic. Yuuri's face fell a little. Maybe, he'd taken it a bit too far and let his emotions rule him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." Yuuri sat on the edge of the bed. He fidgeted. "You were really quite…handsome…out there today, too." He lowered his head, embarrassment or jealousy—he wasn't sure which. "Your men thought so."

There was a bratty "huff" coming from under the sheets. "There's only one man I'm interested in. And, right now, he's mad at me." He sunk a little deeper into the mattress. But, in the next second, he kicked himself mentally. A man—a real man---shouldn't act this way.

"Only when you say ridiculous things…like putting on that armor again." Yuuri's tone lightened up. "The rest of the time, I…kind of…like being by your side.

"Hm…."

"So, going back to my original question…" Dark eyes, much rounder and kinder now, turned to Wolfram. "…Is there anything I can do for you?" Yuuri finished it with a quirked smile, the kind that the fire Mazoku could never resist.

"Anything?" Emerald eyes glanced up from under long, thick lashes.

"Yup." Yuuri leaned over to get a better look. "Water? A snack? Oh, I really should go tell Gissela and your family the good news that you're awake."

Wolfram struggled but managed to sit up in the bed. "Join me?" He turned the covers back and waited to see the reaction. What little warmth he had before was almost gone now. He shivered again even though he'd braced himself, not wanting to look weak in front of Yuuri.

The double black glanced at the door. He was certain that someone would, eventually, come into the room to check on them. Plus, he was wearing his street clothes, not pajamas.

"Hold me?"

Yuuri turned his head back. Wolfram had scooted over in the bed to make some room.

With an indulgent smile, Yuuri kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed. The blond shivered up against him and put his head on Yuuri's chest. "Just for a minute…and, then, I'll let you go," he promised.

I won't hold you to that. Yuuri stroked impossibly soft, damp blond hair—raking his fingers through and working the knots out. "Close your eyes."

There was a hum of agreement.

"And Wolfram?"

"Yes." He shivered and his voice quivered the word.

"You didn't fail me." Hands tightened around cool shoulders, sharing body heat. "We'll figure this out. And we'll do it together."

"As you say…" Oh, Yuuri felt so good against him—so warm, like sunshine. The flame in his heart began to build slowly. The element grew brighter within.

"Oh, and Wolfram?"

"Yes?"

"You forgot to say 'wimp'."

Yuuri could feel the blond chuckle into his chest. The brief ruble was reassuring.

"…Wimp…"

"Now, that's more like it."

Ten minutes later, Gissela, her assistant, Gwendal, and Conrad all stood in the royal bedroom with a hallway of Wolfram's men mixed in with off duty soldiers peeping in through the open door. The four poster bed's curtains were drawn closed and there were two sets of light snores coming from within.

"Should we…check on them?" the assistant asked, biting a nail nervously. Disturbing The Demon King could have dire consequences not to mention a certain fiery blond's sharp tongue. But it might be medically necessary.

"Not if you want Wolfram to use the last of his magic frying you for interrupting his…personal moment," Gwendal said brusquely. Gissela put a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle as Gwendal pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the migraine from getting worse. How did these two, who weren't even engaged anymore, keep ending up in bed together? In semi-public ways, no less? With a deep frown, he gestured to everyone in the room to leave. They filed out like the good soldiers he expected them to be. Only Gissela hanging back (and giving him a quick peck on the nose for good measure) got the frown off in time to shut the door.

From behind the curtain, Wolfram heard the door and, somewhat lethargically, raised his head. He was surprised at the sudden darkness, the curtains being drawn not registering in his clouded mind just yet. Then, he felt a palm pressing against his curls, directing his head down against Yuuri's chest.

"Go to sleep," the double black murmured. The arm around the blond's waist tightened.

"Gladly."

"Tom?" Dana called, coming out the back of the house, wiping her wet hands on her apron.

The aging Mazoku turned his grey head at the sound of his name, realized it was just his nagging wife, and went back to his work.

"Still cleaning the fish, huh?" she asked, casting faded pink eyes in his direction as she approached.

With it being obvious, he gave her a non-committal shrug and kept on at it. "Well, it's not like you'll let me clean fish in the kitchen."

"And get scales all over the place for me to clean up? You must be joking." She stood at his elbow and tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her husband, while a good man at heart, was basically the type who never finished anything unless he was monitored. And, keeping an eye on him was one of her constant tasks. She wished to Shinou that things had been different between them. But this was her husband's personality. So, she just had to work with what was there.

The wind blew and the watery fish blood seeped over the side of the rickety, wooden table.

"You will be cleaning this up after you're done…right?" she went on.

"Yes, Dear," he sighed impatiently. Of course, he also knew that the "Yes, Dear," comment would drive her crazy and that she would have the overwhelming desire to put a boot in his ass. But, he did it anyway.

"I could put extra black spice on these," she muttered to herself darkly.

"Woman, what are you thinking? I hate that mouth-burning crap! Don't even think of doing that to these fish after all the work I put into catching and cleaning them." Tom pruned up his face as he finished removing the scales on the last one.

Dana sliced a mean look in his direction. "Then, stop the 'Yes, Dears.' And, while you're at it, cut out that fish anus, too." She pointed down at the rather large panfish he was working on. "Unless, of course, you enjoy eating fish bum."

Tom snorted in her direction, "Of course!" He'd been cleaning fish all his life. He didn't need her to tell him what to do. "So, go back in the house and find something else to do. I'm really tired of you nagging like this. You drive me crazy!"

She circled around the table, now face to face with him. "You don't appreciate anything that I do."

He rolled his eyes. How many centuries had they gone through this argument? He knew it by heart. In fact, he wondered if he could excuse himself from the argument because it would be the same whether he was standing there or not.

Palms down on the corners to keep her hands clean, Dana leaned heavily on the table. "Who cleans this house? I guarantee it's not the 'house cleaning sprite' or a 'wood fairy'." She folded her thin arms across her chest. She wiggled her hips, too. Even at her age, she had a fetching figure and that wiggle told him that he'd be a lonely man for the next four weeks if he didn't acknowledge her talents in the home. In fact, she might make him sleep on the roof again.

"So, Tom, what I'm telling you is…"

A rustle.

Something in the shrub moved.

"It's heading that way!" a robust voice shouted followed by a fireball.

The shrub exploded. The remains caught fire.

A roar of pain.

In a flash, Tom was around the table with the knife. He grabbed Dana and dragged her back to the steps of the house with the intent to get the door open.

Something purple and blue with a multitude of dark legs scuttled out of the smoldering foliage—fur singed.

And, then, it stopped.

Tom had Dana in his left arm. He curled her against him and, dangerously, he pointed the cleaning knife in the direction of The Gaki.

The creature blinked and sniffed. The black nose flexed and sniffed again.

Drool fell in large, thick droplets. And the scent of burnt hair and rotting rubbish filled the air.

Tom's arm shook. The knife was red, bloodied. A fragment of fish entrails wobbled at the tip.

From behind the creature, another fireball was volleyed along with shouts and the thundering of horses hooves. "This way!"

Black, soulless eyes regarded them for only a fraction.

It opened its jaws and snapped up all the fish.

Another fireball.

The hairy body scuttled off. With a jump, it could be seen springing into the leafy trees that bordered their neighbor's property.

The thundering grew louder. Men were shouting to each other.

"This way!" a blue clad soldier shouted, reigns in one hand and a fireball blazing in the other. Ten of Gwendal's men followed.

"That's Lord von Voltaire's men and the leader belongs to Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld," Dana breathed, shocked at the celebrities who just galloped through her back garden.

They were here! Right here at her house!

The neighbor's door opened and Betsy peered out, looking to her left. "Dana? What was all that hullabaloo?" She blinked at the backs of men on horseback—all shrinking from her sight within seconds.

"Well!" Dana said while disentangling herself from her husband. "That monster came…"

"The Gaki!" Betsy gasped.

"The same! And could you believe it…when my man, Tom, stood up to it?" Dana went on in her most gossipy voice.

"Seriously?!" Betsy blinked at Tom and noticed the filthy knife that was lowered to his side. He grinned back a bit nervously as his wife could be heard saying, "Definitely! Oh, and the beast stood right there." She pointed. "And it drools!"

Another gasp. Betsy put her hands up to her cheeks.

"It wanted to kill me like it had done the others. But, Tom was so…so…"

The women walked off together a ways. Dana pointed in the direction that the men on horseback had gone. She stomped on a smoldering spot on the grass where a fireball had landed. A third neighbor woman joined them and Tom leaned against the house and enjoyed the view.

He'd get lucky tonight. That was for sure—meaning he was certain that Dana would give him some money to go down to the pub and drink to his heart's content. After all he'd done, it was the least she could do.

The knocking caught Yozak's attention right away. Sitting at his desk in a collared purple silk nightshirt, he was about to place another card down in the pyramid, hand raised slightly with the five of spades. Solitaire was one of the games he liked to play when he was too wound up to sleep.

Just like tonight.

"Could you open the door, Yozak?" came the voice from outside.

He always knows when I'm here…and when I'm awake.

"Sure," the spy sighed passively as he trudged to the door. He might as well get this over with.

Yozak placed his hand on the lock and slid the mechanism back with a firm click into place. Then, he grabbed the door and gave it a quick yank to open. "Captain." His words were tired and even. Still, politeness dictated that he stand back and usher the man inside.

"I'm surprised you're still awake," Conrad said pleasantly as he walked in "considering what little sleep you've had."

"It's one of those times, ya know." He tried to sound cheerful, but the dark circles under his eyes gave him away. In fact, they'd been together for so long that they could read each other's bodies, getting tell tale signals that words—or pride—could not convey. Sometimes, it was very pleasant. Sometimes, as in this case, it wasn't.

"Did you try the usual tricks to sleep?"

Yozak nodded. "Wine, beer, cookies and milk…"

"All at once?" Conrad joked, a playful smile tugged at his lips.

A shrug. "Well, I started with the cookies and worked my way up to wine." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I think the kitchen staff knows that the sages have been sneaking wine from the vaults for their own personal 'parties.' So, they left a bottle out…" He then winked. "Sadly, it disappeared." He motioned to a goblet and an open bottle next to the pyramid.

"Still no luck, hm?" Conrad's eyes trailed over the cards on the table. How long had he been playing?

"Yeah," the spy said, dropping his smile a little. The tone of voice was now a dead giveaway.

Well, I'd better get this part started. I've delayed it long enough.

"About today…I'm…"

Conrad nodded in agreement. "We both acted according to our natures."

Hearing it, Yozak's body slouched, making him place a hand on his hip to force himself upright. "I understand that your brother means the world to you…more than he'll ever know. But, I can't apologize for seeing a dangerous situation and needing to…" He lowered his face, staring at his feet. "…Needing you…" Was it the fatigue that was making him brutally honest? Was it? "We've gone through so much…lost so many things, so many comrades in arms… I can't lose you to something…something like what happened today." Yozak raked his fingers through orange hair roughly. "That blond fireball…who saved my life earlier…was…" A bitter laugh. "… Making a fireball…literally…only, he couldn't stop and...I know I owe him one, but…"

Yozak found himself shaking his head at that kind of stupidity. Of taking an experiment of Anissina's too far without the thought of something going wrong…no limits, no precautions. But, it wasn't just Wolfram. Were they all so desperate? Yes, in fact, they were.

"You're not leaving me alone in the world. I lived that way before I ever met you…but now I can't…without...." He walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. The scene was dark and peaceful. Only a few soldiers were on duty below the window, standing guard. Others were making their usual rounds.

"My mother's grave… Your father is gone. We've fought in wars. We left that last one together and I was crying inside the whole time…every step back. You'd lost so much blood. For the only time in my life, I cursed the fact that I'm not a full blooded Mazoku…no power to heal." Strong arms circled his waist, hands stroking the silk. A brunette head rested on his shoulder.

"You do realize, Conrad, that if you die…if you leave me alone in the world…I'll never forgive you. Your life belongs to me. You may spend it with the kiddo, but it belongs to me…whether I am by your side or not."

"I know" was murmured into his ear.

"I hope you do," Yozak returned. "I hope you know that if you die, you won't be alone for very long. My soul will follow yours into the next life. I'll be your right hand again. Pissed at you? Yeah…but I'll be there."

A kiss to the side of his neck. "Don't say that. I'd never want that…or even deserve that."

"Then, don't die stupidly." He lowered his head, heart heavy. "Let me die first…and then you can go on by Yuuri Heika's side for as long as he needs you." It sounded like jealousy. Maybe, it was.

"Don't talk about death. You're the one who almost…" The usually pleasant voice took on an edge.

Yozak laughed a little bitterly. "Do you know what? When your brother tricked me into drinking the antidote, he told me that he knew we were…together."

Conrad's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"Nope," Yozak returned. "But, he was…glad…" He turned around in Conrad's arms and wrapped his own arms around the soldier's neck. "Glad… for you because he didn't want you to be alone. I had to promise him that I would always stay with you. Maybe, in a strange way, he kind of…married us. I have to remain by your side as 'the years slowly pass' as he called it." Yozak smiled thinly at Conrad when the arms around his waist tightened.

"Wolfram is full of surprises," Conrad murmured to himself, pleased. He leaned forward, their foreheads touching.

Sky blue eyes closed, weary. "But…maybe, by agreeing, I…lied."

Conrad cocked his head to the side, curious.

"I can't promise you that. I can't promise forever. That's why it's been this way between us for so long. I have to give it my all, accept death… if I'm to do my job right, that is." Yozak nuzzled his cheek against Conrad's for a second. "And the same goes for you…no matter how much I hate it. I guess…this makes me a hypocrite, though." He pointed to the window. "But, at this moment, that monster is stalking deer in the woods, breaking into markets, and raiding rubbish carts. So far, with the curfew, no one had died. But, for how long?"

The spy tilted his head back briefly in exasperation. "There's unrest. I've heard more than just grumbling in the town square and in the markets. Protests at the castle gate will be next. We have to do something or, at the very least, appear to…"

Drained now, Yozak leaned his head against Conrad's shoulder. "So, I suppose, I have my own answer as to why I haven't slept in two days and why I can't sleep now." He sighed a puff of air against Conrad's neck. "Most of all…I really wanted to get back…to see you…to be with you…" His voice trailed off as his eyes slid shut. "Still mad…I guess…? It wasn't what I had hoped for when I came back." The spy's arms hugged Conrad's neck, fingers tugging at the material in the jacket. "To be with you…" he repeated to himself. And again. The words were murmured, fading away.

Conrad would have said something. But, at this point, it was unnecessary. Conrad glanced down at the beefy, silk-clad figure who was now asleep on his feet. There was something tender and innocent about it. But, Yozak always appeared that way when dreams took him.

The tall brunette side stepped them both to the simple bed that had the covers disheveled from an occupant frustrated from insomnia. Not now, though. The spy was heavy in his arms. The orange haired man was that tired.

He tucked Yozak in and gave him a silky kiss on the forehead before blowing the candle out.

Their non-arguments always ended up the same way—with the words "to be with you." It was just Yozak's turn to say them. That was all.