*...* 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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SNAFU - Part 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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?"
****************************
"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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bwhahahahahahahahahaha! Erm, I mean TBC...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
