Warnings: mild yaoi, swearing, violence and a list of Farf's meds. Now that is terrifying.
Weiss Season III
Episode Six
It was quiet. Crawford and Miry, as cultural experts and fluent English speakers, were gone, with Yoji and Ken, to seek medical treatment for Omi. Schuldig and the Weiss redhead, Aya, were off by the pool, stealing Nagi and Farf's spot for their own purposes.
The Irishman ran a finger absently over the brunette boy's cheek, along his neck, to his collarbone, leaning back against a smooth rock with Nagi's head in his lap. He sighed. His medications were running low, and he doubted that anyone would care if he ran out. With the amount of drugging they'd done to him, people often forgot just how bad he was when he had nothing in his system.
What was he taking…?
His mind ran over the names, touching them and prodding them as the meds listed themselves. His brain actually worked with machine-like efficiency when he was at the incredibly lucid point two hours after he'd taken his meds. Three times a day, one hour each time. And now, one hour and fifty-seven minutes after the morning dose, things were suddenly becoming angular and sharp, all traces of insanity chased away with chemicals.
Effexor. He took about half a gram of it… 450 mg. 100 in the morning 250 at midday, 100 at night. It was an antidepressant, used to treat people with extremely chronic depression and bipolar disorder. His last dose lay huddled in its bottle, a 250 mg pill rattling alone.
Loxapine. An extreme anti-psychotic, with sedative properties. It was used to treat instances of schizophrenia, and had almost immediate effects. This one he didn't have to take, only when he was causing trouble. It was injected intravenously every four hours, at 50 mg, when he had extreme psychotic episodes.
Diazepam. A sedative. Taken at night, at lunch, and in the morning, though he didn't like it in the morning. It helped him to sleep, though. 10 mg each time. He had until tonight to run out of it.
Seroquel. An anti-psychotic, meant to treat schizophrenia. Which, he had to admit, he had exhibited several symptoms of. But he really didn't hallucinate. The truth was that he went into killing rage that he had trouble getting out of, and everything took on the taint of religion and death. And he hated religion with such a passion, the very thought of it made his gut twist. He took 300 mg of seroquel three times a day. It would last him another day.
With the same computer-like accuracy, he saw the darkened, hooded glow of purple eyes staring fixedly at him, and he blinked. The strange dark girl was awake, but he didn't know how long. That made him slightly nervous. He'd heard her stir about an hour ago, but that was during the lulling drowsiness that the drugs always brought at that time.
What shocked him most, though, was that he was actually afraid.
Farfarello had learned to recognize insanity, and to recognize evil. The creature staring at him was the embodiment of both, an unholy mixing of the two. Unconsciously, his fingers dug into the silky brown hair beneath his hand, clenching in a grip that made the boy in his lap twitch.
"F-Farf? Uh—Itai! Lego' my hair…" slurred Nagi, one inky eye opening to look at his companion.
The pale man—well, at the moment he was red—gently released his hold on the telekinetic's head, pulling him up into a sitting position with a hand curled around his slender bicep. His single eye remained fixed on the woman-thing tied to the tree across from him.
"What's wrong?" muttered the boy, still hazy from his exertions helping Omi. Schuldig had kept him from a coma, however, which was just as well. One invalid and a crazy bitch were enough.
"What's wrong?" echoed the woman at the tree. Her voice was harsh and grating, words slurred and a bit lisped, and blood dripped from the corners of her mouth as she spoke.
That woke Nagi up.
"You are," answered Farfarello coolly. The young man beside him made a fist, frowning, but stopped, clutching his head.
"Am I?" she asked, taunting.
"Who are you?"
"Let me out. I'll help you feel pain…"
The silver-haired man shook his head slowly. "Interesting as it sounds, I think I'll pass."
"Hurt everyone. We'll hurt everyone. Cut them up. Rip out their throats, eat their hearts… we'll drink their blood. Everyone. The whole world. Do you want to help?"
Nagi, who had been frozen in shock for a long moment, let loose with the only other weapon he had. "AYA! SCHU! HELP US!"
A sickening, deranged laugh glittered from her bleeding mouth and she tilted her chin up, exposing her throat.
"Just kill me then, why don't you? You want to… I'm the one tied to a tree, remember?"
The red haired swordsman came crashing over the rocks, stumbling gracelessly to his knees as a foot caught in a crevice from his hurry. The laughter increased, a disgusting and vile sound that crept like tar over everything it touched.
"Aya…" smiled the woman. "Aya, come here. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It was a stayed strike, but the boy jumped forward just enough…."
Tears fell from the dark, glowing eyes, running over the red, burnt cheeks to mix with the blood. Her eyes glowed a bit brighter, and the young pyro stared at her.
"Shit…" muttered Farfarello, as he saw the answering amethyst glow in Aya's own eyes. He slid away from Nagi, pulling a knife from his boot and grabbing at the woman's chin. "Don't touch him!"
Aya's fist connected with him and he was thrown sideways, rolling over and onto one knee to see the redhead standing over that frightening woman.
"Schu!" screamed Nagi, staggering to his feet and rushing at Aya. The redhead backhanded him out of the way, a gesture that came too easily as the glow behind his eyes intensified.
"You'll never win," she sneered, as Aya began to untie the ropes furiously. Schuldig stumbled over the rocks and stared, in horror at the scene.
The Irishman knew he had only one chance to save everyone. One chance, that was all. His knife flashed outwards just as the first knot loosened, before she could move to defend herself. Even Aya didn't move, because, with the last of his strength, the telekinetic had frozen him to the ground.
Blood spurted out, and insane, glowing eyes locked with his, a horrible, sadistic grin curling her lips for the last seconds that she was conscious. Then she drooped forward, and Aya yelled, jumping back, as her hold over him collapsed, watching her throat gush out the last of her life.
Yoji was asleep, finally, his head resting on the bed next to Omi's heart, cradled in the young bishonen's arm. Their fingers laced over his neck. It was a touching scene.
Crawford had managed to talk Miry and Ken out of going back and murdering Tei on the spot, but he himself was feeling stressed, and overtired, and so he'd fallen asleep on a chair in the waiting room after telling the guards that the other two were not to leave the area for any reason. He'd given them money, too, just to be sure.
That was why Miry was now involved in a heated argument with a security guard as to whether or not she could go to the cafeteria. Or so she said. Ken came out of the bathroom to find her glaring at the two burly men, the tips of her hair growing scarlet and her cheeks flushing with anger. He didn't understand a word of what she was saying, or what they were saying back to her, because he didn't speak English, but from the tones of their voices, he knew that something was starting.
"Miry, maybe we shouldn't ant—" he tried, to be cut off by a torrent of angry words.
He understood her muttered Japanese about the foul acts that had created both guards, which seemed to involve the crossbreeding of their mothers with a number of animals, but she was far from done with the guards. He decided to use the one English phrase he knew, one that Schuldig had coached him in, but never explained the meaning of.
Grabbing her arm, her said, "Let os go fock now," in the same language she was using.
She turned, staring at him, her honey-brown eyes widening and blinking several times. The guards exchanged looks and then snickered, and laughter was heard from somewhere behind them.
"You know what you just said, Hidaka?" asked Crawford's voice.
Ken shook his head slowly, backing away from the angry look that flooded the girl's face. At that admission, she paused, frowning and pursing her lips slightly.
"You don't? Well, that's the only thing that'll save you, because you just said 'Let's go fuck now,' in English," said the girl.
Ken flushed. Whoops. Time to change the subject!
"Crawford, how long have you been awake?" he asked desperately.
"About five minutes," answered the American man. "I had a vision while I was asleep; that's why I woke up."
Miry lost all interest in Ken and went over to the pre-cog. "What is it?"
"Tei. The crazy woman. She's going to be dead in another fifteen minutes," he replied.
"Damn! And we didn't even get to help," muttered Ken.
"I can't believe it…" murmured Ran, eyes glazed over as he stared out at the sunlit desert. "I can't believe I fell for it…"
They'd spent the past four hours burying the body of Tei, and Nagi and Farf had claimed the pool for their own… purposes. Which left the sweaty redheads waiting their turn in the water at the far end of the oasis.
Gunther put a hand on the younger man's shoulder and rubbed it gently, restraining it to a brotherly touch and nothing more. "You wanted to believe there was something good left in her… that was why she picked you. Your mind was unguarded, and she wasn't strong enough to just grab hold. She needed inside help."
The pyrokinetic man buried his face in his hands. "I'm such a fool…"
"You're not a fool, Ran. You had hope. I think it makes you less a fool, and more a man," murmured the telepath, slipping his fingers under the young man's chin and tilting it up so that their faces were a few inches apart, violet and jade eyes meeting.
"Gunther, I—I'm pouring my heart out to my former enemy over a woman who tried to kill my friends and would've killed me, but who I still wanted! I think that's a sign that I'm an idiot," sighed the swordsman, turning his head away glumly.
"We all do stupid things where feelings are involved," confided the German man. "That doesn't make the feelings any less real. And it doesn't make us any worse. Because, unless it's love, feelings fade over time. So you made mistakes. Big deal. We've all been there."
Ran looked up, a faint, sad smile playing over his lips. "Even you?"
Gunther leaned forward, closing the gap between their mouths for a brief moment, feeling a flash of surprise from the one mind that he was completely tuned in to, every second, and couldn't shield out. Not that he wanted to.
"Even me," he said, with an answering smile.
The harsh lighting of the hospital woke Omi up, and he immediately looked down to see the blonde head of Yoji pressed against his uninjured side, a warm, comforting sensation, like the fingers interlocked with his. His free hand stretched over to stroke over the silky hair gently, and he smiled faintly at the sleepy mumble from the older assassin.
"Yoji…" he whispered, pushing a few strands from the other man's face and rubbing his thumb over the cheek. "Hey, wake up a bit."
"Huh?" was the tired response, and the blonde lifted his head up a few inches off the mattress, blinking. His expression went from bewildered to ecstatic in a few seconds as he saw that the young brunette was awake. "Omi!"
The archer nodded carefully, not wanting to disturb the grumbling headache he was feeling. Painfully, he shifted over on the bed. "Come on up here. You'll get a sore neck like that…"
A faint smirk played on the blonde man's lips. "On the bed?"
"Yea… but… don't get any ideas. I'm still pretty sore…" replied the boy with an answering grin.
Not needing to be told twice, the lanky smoker kicked off his shoes and slid under the sheet on his side, nuzzling his face into Omi's neck and slipping an arm beneath his back, one hand lying on his chest, well away from the newly-stitched wound. For his part, the brunette rested his far hand on top of Yoji's and the other arm wound around his… lover's waist. His lover?
"Mmm, you're warm…" murmured the blonde, cuddling closer and slinging a leg across Omi's.
"Yoji…?" whispered the archer, a faint frown creasing his forehead.
"Hmm?"
"Did you… mean that? About loving me?"
The older man raised his head up, staring at the boy with curious green eyes across the space of a few inches, over their shared pillow. "I've never meant anything more in my life," he replied, quietly but vehemently, before he closed his mouth against Omi's.
The kiss deepened, growing more fiercely passionate as their lips and tongues pressed each other, their hands shifting and wandering. Omi arched against Yoji slightly and then broke away, wincing and panting faintly, a hand clamped over his side.
"Gaah! I… I love you, too, but this… still hurts," muttered the boy, hissing softly.
Yoji kissed his neck gently. "Huh. Guess I'll have to be patient," he smiled. "Sorry about that…"
Omi turned to look at him, face still faintly awash with pain. "It was half my fault. I shouldn't have tested your patience," he grinned.
"I just want to check up on him, dammit!" yelled a female voice.
"If he's awake, he and Yoji—" began the attempted reasoning of Ken.
"—Can't do much, seeing as he's just out of surgery! Baka!"
"And if he's asleep, you'll be bugging him!"
"If you weren't so loud!"
"Me loud? You're shouting!"
"Oh, who's shouting now?"
"Will you two please shut up?"
"As soon as Ken lets go of me!"
Omi winced faintly. "Great timing, huh?"
Yoji nodded, wrinkling his nose, and decided to test the young man's resolve by nipping at his earlobe lightly, then sucking on it. Omi gasped slightly and tugged the blonde away from his skin, a slight flush crossing his cheeks.
"You horny baboon," he muttered, rubbing a hand over Yoji's stomach, under his shirt.
"Me? You're worse…" Leaning in to brush lips over Omi's throat.
"Am not…" Flicking fingertips over the blonde's strong chest.
"Are too." Running a hand beneath the hem of the hospital gown, over the archer's thigh.
Before it could degenerate into a combination childish argument and petting contest, Crawford, Ken, and Miry burst in the door. The two men on the bed quickly snatched their hands away, grateful for the cover of the sheet over them.
Crawford cocked an eyebrow. "Comfortable?" he asked with a smirk.
Yoji gave him a dazzling grin. "Very."
Ken blushed a bit, embarrassed by the public display of affection. Well, semi-public. Miry snickered. "Yeah, all it took for ya to get it together was bein' stabbed," she muttered. Ken smacked her arm and she smacked him back, and a moment later a full-on slap fight had begun.
"Well, anytime you're ready to leave, so I can be done babysitting," quipped the pre-cog, eyeing the pair of pyros as they fought.
Unable to resist, Omi said, "You know, they kind of remind me of us, Yoji."
Miry stopped, mid-dodge, and got whacked in the face. "You? The lovebirds? Who were at each other's throats, like, yesterday?" She didn't appear to notice the large red handprint forming on her cheek, and Ken took the opportunity to step behind Crawford.
"I could stab one of you. That might help," offered the blonde man with an evil grin.
"Hell no," said Crawford. "If anyone gets to stab those idiots, it's me. I've been stuck in a waiting room with them for almost ten hours."
"You were asleep for nine of them!" protested Ken.
"Yes, and your childish behavior haunted my dreams," replied the pre-cog seriously.
Miry glared at him sulkily, looking more like a five-year-old being scolded than anything else. "You're such a bitch, Bradley."
"Schuldig. I knew you were spending too much time with that idiot," muttered Crawford, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Ken sighed and flopped over Yoji and Omi's legs, making both of them yowl in protest.
"Hey, you guys have a bed!" he retorted, glowering at them. As an afterthought he added, "And someone to cuddle with."
Omi silently pointed at Miry, who was engaged in a staring contest with Crawford. Or would have been, had he not been ignoring her entirely. Ken blushed.
"Do you know what that boy said to her in front of the security guards?" said the American man suddenly.
"No! Nonononono!" yelped Miry, lunging at him. He sidestepped her and she crashed to the floor.
"Don't say it!" begged Ken at the same time, sitting up so that all his weight was on Omi's right foot, getting kicked by the left one for it.
"He said, in English, 'Let's go fuck now,'" announced the pre-cog with a satisfied smile.
Both of them dropped their heads to their hands, and Ken's ears practically glowed with embarrassment.
"Whoa!" laughed Yoji. "Moving pretty quick there, huh, Kenken?"
"Shut up!" mumbled the brunette from the confines of his hands.
Agumi stalked out of the airport, surrounded by an entourage of bodyguards and secretaries, feeling a compelling need to kill something. Actually, several things. Weiss, Schwartz, and those two traitors, Bombay and Hellcat. Who gave a shit what their real names were, anyway?
"Sir, our computer expert just found records for an Omi Tsukyono being checked in to a hospital two days ago. Apparently he had severe lacerations to his side, and was accompanied by four people, two English-speakers matching the descriptions of Oracle and Hellcat, as well as two foreigners who matched the descriptions of Siberian and Balinese. Oracle, Hellcat and Siberian have apparently checked in to the only hotel in that town," said Birman, stepping up alongside him and keeping pace.
"What about the others? The remaining members of Schwartz and Weiss?" demanded Agumi.
"We checked the database of the hotel. Abyssinian, Prodigy, Berserker and Mastermind all joined their teammates there, but there has been no sign of the Weiss psychic, Siamese. Cross-references have shown that she has not been spotted anywhere in a surrounding radius of ten miles, not even at the nearby oasis. That's the one thing we're still worried about," answered the brunette woman with a faint frown.
"What the hell could she be doing?"
"Perhaps she's hiding out, and they're expecting us."
"Perhaps. Or, perhaps, she's left them. She always was more independent than the others."
"True, sir, but not as much as Bombay. And he's remained with them."
"Well, he and that secretary of his that he's fucking," growled Agumi. He adjusted the overpriced Prada shades on his nose and stepped in to the jeep they'd rented. "What's the name of this town they're at?"
"Sandstone. It's about fifteen miles south."
"Good. Now ends Weiss and all of our problems."
Upcoming: a gunfight. A really hot day. And lots more implied yaoi…. XD
