*...* is normal thought,

//...// is Schuldig 'speaking' to Ken...this way you can tell the difference, ne? ^_^

~silvershadeus~

feedback, onegai! ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Weiß Kreuz related that would result in my being sued...I'm just borrowing the characters and such for a little while.

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SNAFU - Part 3

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The last thing he remembered was the blinding flash of light, panicked screams coming from all around him, and the horrified expression on his teammate's face. Everything after that was a blank.

This might explain why he wasn't so keen on returning to consciousness, where he might have to face the fact that his friend might have been killed. And that he could have done something to stop it.

If only he'd seen the Schwarz assassin sooner. If only he'd moved faster. If only he'd -

Pausing in his self-recrimination as his hearing returned, he realized that he could hear someone talking. And whoever it was, they were far from happy.

"Goddammit! I'm not going to play your twisted games!"

Frowning to himself, he carefully slitted one eye open, peering cautiously around him, taking in the inky blackness of his surroundings. Barely two feet from him was the darker outline of a vaguely familiar human form.

"Bastard, leave him out of this!"

He was filled with a rush of relief; and it was like a weight was suddenly lifted from his shoulders as he realized that his teammate was safe. There was no mistaking the familiar snarl in that outraged voice. He'd heard it all too often.

The other was sitting a few feet away with his back to him, listing dangerously to one side as he carried on a conversation…with himself?

"Like I'm supposed to believe you? You mess with people's minds for the hell of it! Just leave me alone you – "

Closing his eyes, he decided that for now he should concentrate on getting himself mobile again. His teammate's grasp on reality could wait a little bit longer.

"Oh yeah, sure. Try and act as though you never – liar! You did so! I have the scars to prove it!"

He hoped.

****************************

//You're so stuck on the past, Weiß. Things are different now, no? Don't you think we should talk this out?//

"No! I want you out of my head!"

He paused as he felt something that was eerily similar to a sigh in his mind, and then he felt a rush of overwhelming guilt.

It really wasn't the German's fault; he'd just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was sad, really, how badly Schuldig was misunderstood –

"Quit doing that!"

//Doing what?//

He really had no idea how the Schwarz assassin managed to sound innocent – something he most certainly was not, but –

//That hurts, you know. It really, really hurts to know that you think of me like that. I'm not really such a bad guy, once you get to know me.//

"I don't want to get to know you!" He snarled, his head beginning to pound again. "And stop playing with my mind!"

For the life of him he couldn't remember what had happened, and worst of all, he didn't have the faintest clue as to how to get rid of the redheaded psychopath shacked up in his head.

From what he could tell, they were in some kind of underground chamber; no doubt a part of the caves and tunnels that ran throughout the underside of the city beneath the train system.

Groaning to himself, he buried his face in his hands.

There were literally hundreds of miles of unexplored tunnels down here, and with no point of reference to start from, they were as good as dead.

Great. This is just fucking great. We're stuck God knows where, with no weapons, no food, no water, and there's a crazy assassin running amuck in my mind. How could things get any worse?

//Che, and here I thought you Weiß boys were supposed to be all genki and optimistic. Pollyanna, you aren't.//

That did it. That just fucking did it. It wasn't bad enough that Schuldig was rooting around in his head taking out his memories, looking at them like so many photographs, and making snide comments. It wasn't bad enough that his friend was lying unconscious beside him so frighteningly still. It wasn't bad enough that his head felt as though it were going to explode, but to have Schuldig – one of his mortal enemies – mocking him like that, it was more than he could take.

"Fuck you, Schuldig! I'd like to see how you'd do in my place! I'd like to see your goddamned 'ray of sunshine' act then!"

He smiled grimly as he felt the German's shock, and then so softly he almost missed it…

//Think you've got it hard, Weiß? Try looking at it from my point of view – at least you have a body.//

And just like that, the odd sensation that was Schuldig was gone from the forefront of his mind. He could still sense him in that far back corner, but it was almost as though the Schwarz assassin was trying to hide from him.

His eyes widened, and he suddenly felt, incredibly enough, remorse for his harsh words towards Schuldig. And he couldn't blame it all on the stress of the moment, not really.

What it all came down to was the fact that he was scared. He was scared that he had somehow let his teammate down, that he was going to have to pay the price for his stupidity. He was afraid of dying, and he was afraid of what had happened to him.

It had been that fear and uncertainty that had made him lash out blindly at the nearest convenient target – which just happened to be Schuldig. Never mind the fact that he probably deserved it, but still…

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you, all right? I'm just upset right now."

He waited for a response, and eventually he got one. A strange little twinge of something very much acceptance, like a wave breaking on the shoreline, in his mind.

Heaving a purely internal sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, and nearly fell as he heard the achingly sweet sound of a familiar voice from behind him. He spun around – or tried to at any rate – a hopeful smile on his face.

"Ken-kun…why are you talking to yourself?"

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"Have I mentioned yet, that I think this is a monumentally bad idea?"

Stifling a sigh of annoyance, Aya gave the lanky assassin a sideways glance. Luckily for him, the older man didn't notice how his gaze lingered on the hollow of his throat, or the tiny dot of bruised flesh there.

He had been surprised, when Yohji had called his bluff the night before, and he had been forced to back his threat against his will. Even more surprisingly, the blond didn't seem to be holding a grudge, which was not something he could say about himself. His jaw was throbbing, and a greenish-blue bruise had formed where Yohji had punched him.

"Several times, now." He snapped irritably.

Yohji seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"And yet you still seem determined to go through with it."

Not a question, and not really a criticism of his methods, but it was close enough.

Not bothering to hide his annoyance any longer, Aya turned to the taller man, grabbing a handful of the smooth fabric of his shirt in one hand. Yohji's lips quirked and one eyebrow rose in obvious amusement.

"Didn't we do this last night?" He drawled, reaching up with one hand to push his sunglasses higher up on his nose.

Violet eyes glared balefully up at him, but the slender redhead didn't say anything. He didn't dare; not while the two of them were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, countless strangers giving them a wide berth – and odd looks. And not where anyone could overhear their conversation.

His hand tightened briefly, before dropping back to his side. Bowing his head, he focused on a crack in the sidewalk as he spoke; anywhere else but on those damned green eyes that saw too much. That knew too much.

"Dammit, Yohji. This isn't a joke, and it's not one of your games."

Blinking slowly, Yohji placed two of his fingers under Aya's chin, and gently lifted it until their eyes met. Green eyes narrowed as the younger man flinched, his eyes darting away.

"I never said it was, Aya." He said quietly. "But there are other ways to go about this – better ways. You aren't in this alone, I'm here..."

…for you.

The words may have gone unspoken, but that did not mean that Aya did not hear them.

"And what the hell do you mean by 'one of my games?'" Yohji demanded angrily, glaring at the redhead.

Inwardly, where no one could see it, Aya smiled.

Muttering under his breath about arrogant, sanctimonious redheaded bastards when he received a knowing look from the silent redhead as his answer, Yohji fell into step at Aya's side.

"And don't think I'll forget this, Fujimiya." He warned the younger man, missing the way Aya's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

That, he mused, I have no doubt of, Yohji.

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Bwhahahahahahahahahaha! Erm, I mean TBC...

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