Surprise – Omi and Aya, Ken, Yohji, Schuldig, Nagi

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Warnings/Disclaimer: NC-17. Shonen-Ai, I'd say. ANGST! And they never watch their language, damn them. Don't own, though I regret that. I'd love to own them all. All rights with their original creators.

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A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who spared the time to read and review - I hope you will keep enjoying this and keep helping me by telling me what you like and dislike. Apologies for any slips and mistakes - I have no beta reader.

Omi snapped back the catch of his gun. He felt empty, the raging inside his soul having left but bleak silence. He felt exhausted, too, and staring at Aya's back, just longed for all of this to end.

"Aya," he breathed as he stepped closer, until he could smell Aya's warm, spicy scent, hear his breathing, sense his warmth.

"Do it already, chibi," came the soft reply.

"Do it? Fuck you, Fujimiya," Omi blurted out, "fuck, fuck, fuck..." His finger tightened on the trigger. "You bloody bastard! Why d'you beat Yohji, why're you doing this to us, why d'you fucking snap-" He broke off, drawing a harsh breath, finger tightening a bit more still, then his eyes narrowed, taking in a last image of bright crimson hair flowing over plain white, the picture of the vase with the rose flicking past his mind, the smell of blood and scorched skin rising to his nostrils, before he screwed his eyes shut and pulled through.

He had not bothered with a silencer. The bang nearly tore his eardrums, the recoil hit his arm, rolled up his elbow and shoulder and flung him hard against the pillar. Omi gasped as the corner of the concrete structure knocked the breath out of him, and let himself drop limply to the ground, the gun slipping from his fingers.

Ken's yell cut across the garage even as he stormed through the gate. "Omi! Damn you, where are you?" He scanned the place and rushed to Omi who slowly dragged his eyes open and scrambled to his feet. Ken was over him in a flurry, gathering him in a frantic hug, raking shaky fingers through his hair, but Omi pushed him away.

He collected the gun and straightened, pale and still to meet Ken's worried gaze. "I'm fine," he said quietly, making to sidestep his friend, but Ken seized his sleeve and held him back.

"What happened? Good grief, you look like a ghost... and what are you doing here? And they?" He jerked back his head, and Omi – about to struggle free – took a moment to register this, then paused abruptly and gaped at Ken who regarded him uneasily. "Have... haven't you-" He swallowed and shoved Ken aside.

By the car, where Aya had stood, he saw Yohji, unfurling his lanky frame from a crouch.
And two of Schwarz, ducking behind the vehicle.
And, between them-

"Aya?"

Omi stiffened and yanked his arm free. Slowly he walked towards the four men. "What's going on, Bali?" he demanded, locking eyes with Yohji.

Who shifted ever so slightly, to wedge himself in front of Aya. "Please, Bombay, put the gun away – I'll explain."

"I've seen enough, I think," Omi replied quietly, his gaze never leaving Yohji.

Ken rushed across and fell into his arm as he raised the gun again, aiming it at Yohji who covered Aya who fidgeted to shake off the two Schwarz men, and the bullet whipped into the roof. With a furious yelp, Omi tugged to free his wrist from Ken's grip, his breath coming in hard pants in between an endless stream of curses and angry sobs.

"Bombay, wait," Ken pleaded, trying to restrain the younger boy, "don't let me hurt you, please, gimme the damn thing, stop it, oh, please!"

"Let the fuck off," Omi raged, even as Ken hauled him back and spun him. Omi suddenly found himself immobilised with his back against Ken's broad, unyielding body, his arms clasped within this steely embrace, but a kick against Ken's shin and an elbow into his stomach broke the deadlock, and Omi stumbled free, whirled round and trained the gun once more on Aya who stood still between Yohji and the redhead from Schwarz.

Agitated and focused on Aya and the two men by his side, Omi hardly saw Nagi move, was barely aware of the boy until a cool touch to his shoulder sent him reeling. He felt a wave of ice hit his mind, then rip through him with a force that snatched his breath and stalled his heart, before he came to with a deep, moaning gasp and found himself flat on his back on the grimy concrete floor.

To meet a pair of dark eyes that stilled him with their gaze, for though they were set in a face as young as his own, they were ancient.

Crouching by his side, Nagi regarded him briefly, before getting up. He slipped back to Schuldig and whipped out his game again while Ken rushed to gather up Omi, and Yohji pushed Aya none-too-gently into the car.