Email: swythangel@hotmail.com
Title: Devil In the Sun
Type: Series 4/6
Teaser: Ken is caught by Schwarz and, ah hell, I can't describe it..just read please
Rating: PG -13
Spoilers:
Warnings: Shonen Ai, yaoi hints, torture, AU
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is not mine…will never be mine but damn if that'll stop me from torturing their lives in my fics...
Keywords: Ken, Brad, BradxKen, Schwarz, torture
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and chuckle>for those who have been asking for lemons and limes...er, would you settle for sap instead? sweatdrops at glares>guess not....
As usual, comments are dearly welcomed and sought after...
OOC Brad I think...but I couldn't resist ^-^v
Devil In the Sun
Part 4
For weeks, Brad walked around performing his job as usual. If anyone ever noticed how pale and drawn he was, no one commented. No one dared to. Only Schuldich ever did. And after the putdown he received, Schuldich would never ask again.
Esset summoned him to a place he had never been to before. A place not far from Tokyo but definitely the rustics. And he obeyed.
Of course he obeyed. He worked for them.
Based on the directions, he had to hire a helicopter to get to the place. A fact that made him wonder just what he had to accomplish in such an outlandish location.
The helicopter touched down on a steep mountain and Brad saw a small wooden cabin, not unlike his family's former hideaway in America, nestled in the mountain's side. No one was around the cabin.
/What is the meaning of this?/
RiNg!
Brad took his cellphone from his suit's breast pocket.
"Brad Crawford here."
"Crawford."
/Esset./
Crawford listened in stunned silence as Esset explained that the cabin was his. It was furnished with a bedroom, a library, music, fireplace, even electricity from a generator. And almost as an afterthought…
"You have a companion."
Crawford had a funny feeling they weren't talking about a pet.
"What companion?"
"The one you wanted."
"But…" He wanted to protest as blood drained from his face.
"Crawford." They interrupted. "It is compensation. For the loyalty you have given us. You may refuse. But for no other reason than because you do not want it."
Brad couldn't say a thing. Logic warred with emotion. What could he say when he wanted to accept but was afraid to.
"We will take your silence as a yes. Consider this paid vacation. You have two weeks."
Brad closed his phone and put it back in. Hesitating, he entered the cabin as his heart pounded an irregular beat against his ribcage.
FLASH!
[Ken shifting on the bed
to snuggle closer to Brad in his sleep, a smile on his lips.]
/Its been a long time since my visions came back. Is this a sign?/
A fire had been left in the hearth, the flames licking higher as air from the opened door rushed in to feed it. It guttered back down once Brad shut the door.
Pine. The room smelled of pine. It brought back memories of skiing trips when he had been a youngster in the United States, when he had still been innocent.
He turned a glance to his surroundings and saw a small kitchen on his right as well as a bedroom and bathroom to the left. And at last, he couldn't avoid it. His eyes eventually became drawn to the center of the room, to the boy sitting on the thick carpet beside the bookcase and sound system.
Ken Hidaka was swaying a little as he leaned against a couch, staring at him with vacant eyes. Brad looked at him with concern. Ken looked too thin in the silk pajamas he wore but he was healthy enough and clean.
Brad took off his gloves and set them aside, going over to where Ken was, to check his face. They had drugged him senseless. That much, he was sure of, as Ken looked at him and gave him a bright swimming smile.
After making sure that Ken was alright except for being drugged, Brad rose and sat on the chair opposite the couch Ken leaned against. He kept his overcoat on, as though he was very cold. He knew that his face was as white as the snow outside as he tried to tell Ken why he was here.
His cheeks were burning up with mortified shame and he knew it stood up in stark contrast to his paleness. Brad wished he was wearing shades rather than glasses. Because then, he could hide behind their darker lenses while he confessed to the object of his desire.
All in all, he actually made a commendable effort. He managed to maintain an even voice even as his mounting terror at being rejected betrayed itself in the white line around his lips.
"This is not my doing. I ordered you killed. I didn't know they would do this."
Brad shifted a little in his seat.
"This is really very undignified and humiliating…but I, I have decided to accept."
/God, what must he think of me now./
He hadn't looked at Ken once since he had started talking. And the silence irked even him who loved quiet solitude. He raised his eyes, finally, to see how it went over and saw Ken grinning vacuously up at him.
Brad couldn't believe it went so well. But then again, Ken was drugged. He would probably have raised high holy hell if he wasn't. After all, his files said that he was a hothead to begin with.
/Well we can't do anything about it now./
And as if in defiance to what he knew would have been Ken's reaction, he warned the boy. "This may not look like a prison, but I assure you that it is. There is no way out of this steep mountain except by air. You will never be able to escape."
Ken was very agreeable to all this, nodding at him with a grin that looked like it was permanently pasted on his face.
Brad shook his head. Was there anything he could say to get a reaction from the boy?
"Do you want to sleep? Hungry? Thirsty?"
After a long confused pause, Ken answered him.
"All of the above."
Brad helped the drugged Ken up and put him to bed on the big mattress, noting that Ken was unconscious as soon as his head touched the pillow. Brad set a glass of water on the nightstand near Ken and left him alone.
He drifted back to the main room and put some classical music on, reading by the fire until the sun went down on the horizon.
***
Ken stirred hours later, found the bathroom and took a shower. When he came out, Brad had clothes laid out on the bed.
"Those are mine, I'm sorry. They provided nothing for you. I suppose they expect me to keep you tied to the bed. I'll try to arrange for something better next time."
The clothes swam on Ken which was expected. In the first place, Brad was noticeably taller and broader of shoulder than Ken. And Ken had lost so much weight as it is. Ken almost looked lost in the clothes.
/Ah hell! At least they're clean clothes!/
It was infinitely better than the clothes he had left in Schwarz headquarters, all bloodied and torn. Ken thought as he emerged from the bedroom, ruffling his hair.
"I look like shit." He told Brad. He hadn't seen a mirror since the time Schwarz had captured him. And what he saw in the mirror almost didn't resemble him at all.
"No kidding?" Brad said dryly. "I didn't notice. I wasn't that concerned with your looks at that time."
Ken didn't reply. Instead, he sat on the couch opposite Brad and looked at the table between them. The low table held a tea tray for two and a chess set.
White had one pawn out.
Ken curled into the couch and moved the black pawn, lifting chocolate brown eyes to Brad's bespectacled ones.
Brad made a counter move and offered Ken tea and food from the tray.
Ken lifted a teacup but hesitated before it reached its lips.
Brad noticed. "There is nothing in that. I have those right here." He opened his palm to reveal a container of pills. "It's a drug to keep you docile. You were pumped full when I arrived. But they should be wearing off by now."
Ken stirred at that and Brad sought to avert any temper flares.
"Don't get violent. I am not going to use these." He peered at Ken through his glasses. "So are you waking up?"
"I think so." Ken set his cup down and deftly switched it with Brad's. Brad indulged him and drank first.
Ken frowned. He glanced at the chessboard and back to the cups.
"Here, damn it!" Brad took a swallow from what was now Ken's cup as well. And Ken finally drank.
"This isn't Schwarz headquarters." Brad told him. "I told you I ordered you killed. This isn't a trap to reveal who commands your group. Here, I am not Crawford but Brad and you're not Siberian but Ken." He leaned forward and captured Ken's eyes with his own. "I swear I will never ask you again. You must believe that."
Ken nodded.
And Brad shook his head. "You don't believe me." He said witheringly.
"Are you a mind reader, like your friend, Schuldich?"
"No." Brad said. "I am a master interrogator. I can sense lies."
"How do you do that. Tell when I'm lying I mean." Ken asked, moving another black pawn.
Brad considered the board and made his counter move before answering him.
"I've been trained to. It could be something as telltale as twitching hands or a flicker of an eye. The trick is to be observant."
Brad looked at Ken and smiled a small smile.
"In your case it is too easy. You're too open with your feelings and it shows through in your eyes."
"Have you ever been wrong?"
"In reading if it's a lie or not?"
"Yeah."
"Never. Especially with Schuldich as backup."
Ken moved his bishop. "Well, then you guys should've known that I don't know anything important."
Brad threw a white pawn at him. And Ken smiled as he reached down to get it.
"I get you."
"You should know better by now."
"I do." Ken said and looked at him. At first Brad didn't understand why Ken would look at him so, then he realized that the boy was looking for affirmation.
"Truth."
He held up the container of pills. "Do I need this?"
Ken shook his head and Brad tossed them into a drawer.
Silence reigned for the time being as Brad studied the chessboard. His brows drew together in a frown as he realized his position.
"Damn it!"
"Ha!" Ken knocked over the white king. "I won. I never thought I'd win against you."
A suspicious look entered his eyes. "Or did you let me win?"
"I didn't intend to." Brad told him, disconcerted. It suddenly dawned on Brad how many times Ken won against him, not just in the chess game but in everything. It might not seem like it but the innocent youth was on top of the power struggle between them. Ken controlled the situation.
This agitated Brad. He had always been the one in control.
/What are you doing to me?/
"I'm sort of disappointed though…"
"Nani? Why?" Brad asked Ken, confused.
"I always feel that White should win over Black."
Brad laughed, the utter naiveté of the boy…
"Aa, you are, of course referring to the allusion of good always defeating evil."
Ken inclined his head and looked at him oddly. "You talk funny. But yeah, something like that."
"The chessboard is not a venue of good and evil, Ken. Its just a game f strategy manipulated by two players."
"I know that." Ken frowned at him.
Brad arched his brows, smirking smugly. "Then why all the pointless whimsical questions?"
This provoked Ken. "You needn't look so smug you know, Mr. High and Mighty! I still beat you, you know."
That made Brad's smirk disappear. And it was Ken's turn to smirk.
"Ha! That brought you down to earth."
Brad narrowed his eyes. "Baka."
"Loser."
***
It grew very late. Ken swung his head to look out the solitary window. He saw the multitude of stars twinkling outside. The moon had come up a long time ago and it was long past time to go to bed.
He turned towards Brad and found the older man blushing and shivering, like he was cold or something. Ken noticed he did it every time Ken's gaze turned his way. And the room was not cold. Not with the fire burning in the fireplace.
/He told me they gave me to him because he wanted me. Why isn't he doing anything about it then? Why is he stalling?/
Ken suddenly realized that the older man had turned shy and couldn't go through with his intentions. A bubble of laughter threatened to burst out. Somehow Ken had always envisioned Brad Crawford as an aggressive, cold bastard.
Not this blushing uncertain man who sat next to him, which was kind of endearing actually.
Finally, Ken couldn't stand it. He asked Brad what he wanted.
"Don't." Brad told him.
"Why?"
Brad blushed and without looking at him, said, "Do you know the meaning of Stockholm Syndrome?"
Ken nodded. Omi had explained it to him once, long ago, when they had been watching the news and it had come up. It was a psychological defense that kidnap victims go through to survive the trauma of capture. The victims fell in love with their captor.
"You're stockholmed to your eyes," Brad told Ken, "I have no excuse."
But in the end, Brad's pride couldn't resist the melting brown eyes and the warm body that sought to press itself against his own.
Ken won over him again. The
Black King won again.
TBC
^_~ Comments as usual?