Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:

Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.

This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?

I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!

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Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head

Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...

Author: Kasey

Archive: Not unless I send it to you.

Status: Complete, self-edited.

Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*

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"Lavender"
-Part Five-

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Catwalks. I hated catwalks. Why was it that one out of three missions involved an abandoned warehouse with goddamned catwalks? It's not the height that bothers me, but the looming presence of someone above you.

Well, I knew it was Omi, sitting up on the catwalks. He'd picked a place where he could see most of the inside of the building, yet not be heard when he spoke into his communicator. I still didn't like catwalks.

I was waiting behind a broken-down forklift. Youji was at the door Omi told him that Nagi was most likely to come through. Aya stood in the center of the building, illuminated by the only working light.

Omi's voice came through my headphones. "Balinese, there are two coming towards your door--it looks like Shuldich and Nagi."

"Roger," I heard Youji reply. If Shuldich was with Nagi, then Youji would have to back away, and find another way to attack.

"Crawford and Farfarello are coming in the main entrance."

"Ready," Aya said.

"...Ready," I affirmed. I'm not sure if I sounded as ready as I was supposed to be. I probably didn't, considering I wasn't ready at all.

For old doors to a condemned warehouse, they were pretty quiet. I watched Brad and Farfarello walk in. They passed the office and the check-in dock, and headed straight for Aya. I braced myself for what I was going to have to do.

"Five," Omi whispered. "Four." I knew he was sighting Farfarello for an arrow. "Three."

It was silent. The heels of Brad's and Farfarello's shoes didn't even echo in the dusty room. The countdown continued in my head. Two. One.

Farfarello jumped. Literally. Straight up in the air. He reached down to pluck the arrow out of midair, then threw it back, before he landed. I fought to keep quiet, but there was no cry, so he must have missed Omi.

Then everything else went wrong.

Anyone else would have thought that the sight of Nagi and Shu, racing wildly into the center of the room, chased by Youji, would have been funny. I suppose there was a certain sick humor in the situation... Aya made a flying leap for Shu, katana flashing in the light, and barely managed to pull up before bouncing off of Youji's back. Both of my teammates rolled, and were back on their feet in seconds. Nagi was looking wildly around, unguarded. I knew Omi would not fire down into the melee, because he might hit one of his own team.

I set my resolve. I wasn't going to let Aya down. I was biting my lip so hard that it bled, but I ran out from behind the forklift, readying my weapon.

The thing about my weapon is that... it's just like punching someone. Uppercut, backhand, a sharp right... the moves are all the same, but the result is messier. I'd never hit Brad, before. We never punched each other playfully... we preferred to hold hands. There's a big difference. I tried to think that I was just punching him, lightly, even. It was a punch. I was punching him.

I yelled. It must have sounded like an animal, because that's what I felt like. Brad turned around in time to see me raise my hand formed into a fist, and I struck. He went down.

Shu cried out. I barely heard him. I was watching Brad's face, contorted with pain, as he sank to his knees in front of me. I was horrified. I'd hit him between the shoulder and neck, and there was so much blood...

"Brad!!" I howled. I couldn't believe I'd done it... I hated myself, and I hated Brad, for convincing me to be there, that night. I retracted my claws, and rushed forward to catch him.

It was surreal. Everyone stopped. Brad looked up at me, smiled--he smiled, damn him!--and then his eyes fluttered shut. I was shaking. I couldn't see anything but Brad. Brad. God...

Dimly, I heard Shu choking an order to Nagi and Farfarello. "Out," he said, his voice tight. "Let's go. Regroup." I knew Aya, Youji, and Omi must be wondering what the Hell was going on... I wasn't quite sure, myself.

I looked up. Youji and Aya were facing the door where the three members of Schwarz were leaving. Their hands were twitching, as if they were trying to decide to attack, or let them go. I didn't wait for their decision. Brad was in my arms. I jumped to my feet, and ran.

It took me twenty minutes, along back roads, hiding from any light. Brad was heavy, but I was determined to get him to the park. As my breathing became heavier, I noticed the faint scent of lavender coming from Brad's body.

"Not now... don't make me remember until I get there..." I gasped. Finally, I made it to the park. It was exactly twenty-four hours since we had met there, the night before.

There were trees behind the fountain, and I fell down among them. I cradled Brad in my arms, cursing everything that had happened, and whispering soft apologies. I was crying. I loved Brad, and I killed him. Not only that, but he had asked me to. 'Show me how much you love me,' he had said. Come kill me, was what he meant. Why, Brad? Why?

When I met him, I thought he was handsome. Cute, even, with his glasses and brown eyes. Now those glasses were splattered with Brad's own blood. I sniffed, wondering how in the world he had managed to keep the same pair of wire-frames for four years... I know I would have broken them by then, but my Brad was more careful than I... My Brad... My Brad...

"My Brad," I whispered. My throat hurt, and my nose was running, but I didn't care. I pulled Brad closer to me. As I looked down his back, I saw my own stained hands. And the weapon that had done this to Brad.

I formed my hand into a fist. I watched in awe, as if for the first time, as the razor-sharp claws /schicked/ out of their casing and reflected the moonlight. I stared at them. Brad was dead, I thought. Brad was dead... Dead... Claws...

"I think he'd get upset, if you did."

I couldn't jump, because Brad weighed me down, but I did start, when I heard Youji's voice. He stepped around the tree I was leaning against, and kneeled down.

"What do *you* know?" I asked harshly, my voice cracking.

Youji put his hands over my weapon, and he forced me to relax. The blades were silently pulled back into their sheaths. "Why would you want to kill yourself?"

I gulped. That was a good question. He was right. Brad would hate me if I killed myself because I'd lost him.

"You're in love with him?" he asked softly. Youji may be blunt, sometimes brutally so... but I guess he knows when it's time for joking, and when someone honestly needs comforting.

I glanced up into Youji's eyes. I was scared. Scared because I had killed Brad, and scared of Youji's reaction, now that he knew. I couldn't lie to him. I nodded.

"How long?"

My hands clenched in Brad's shirt. "Before Weiss," I whispered.

"And him?"

"He..." I bit my lip, and felt blood trickle down my chin. "He loved me, too."

Youji made a small sound of sympathy, but I didn't want to hear it. Brad was gone. With his simple questions, Youji managed to drag the entire story from me... it took less than five minutes, and I started crying again.

Youji put a hand on my shoulder. "Ken," whispered, "Let's get home." Then he reached out, to take Brad from me.

"No!" I held Brad firmly. Dead or not, I didn't want to let go of him.

"Ken..." Youji said slowly, pulling at Brad, again. "Ken, look."

"Uhn?" I looked up. Youji had pressed his hand against Brad's back. His hand was half covered in moonlight. Then it was dark again. Then half-covered. And then dark. Up, and down. I stared. Something... something I'd been too distracted and distressed to notice, before. "He's... he's..."

"Breathing," Youji finished.

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