Warnings: masturbation jokes, non-explicit yaoi, mind tricks, graphic violence, dying, and the end of this thing. At last!

Weiss Season III

Episode Seven

Ran was flopped on the floor, wearing his boxers and a tee shirt, sweating like he'd never sweated before. It was horrible, wretched weather, too hot to do anything but lie there. His red hair was dark with sweat, sticking to his forehead and cheeks, and, while his sunburn was healing, there were patches of peeling skin everywhere on his body, a distinctly unpleasant sight.

"Aya?" asked the familiar, weary voice of Ken. The soccer player had his outstretched feet nearly touching those of Ran on one side and Gunther on the other.

"Hn?" he asked vaguely, wondering if humans melted.

"What are we gonna do about Kritiker?"

"Can't think about that now…" muttered the redhead, peeling a large slice of flesh from his shoulder. Above them, on the couch, Miry winced.

"Gross, Ayaaaaa," she whined. She was slightly better able to stand the weather than the others, being a stronger pyro, and she had, to her credit, been teaching them a little about their powers at night, when it was cooler. But even she was affected by the dizzying heat.

"Hm?" asked the near-unconscious German beside Ran, rolling his head to one side and looking at the young man. "That's… not good… for you…"

"Schu, you look really sick!" commented the girl, frowning.

The other boys looked at the telepath, whose skin was pale and ashy, eyes glassy. He was shaking ever so slightly, dressed in nothing but his own sweat-damp boxer-briefs, and would have looked amazingly sexy, all slick and glistening like that, if he didn't look so ill. Ran sat up on his elbow as Miry crashed off the couch and came to lean over his legs in an effort to check on Gunther.

"He's got heatstroke!" exclaimed Ken, recognizing the symptoms.

"So… so… dizzy," slurred the beautiful telepath, his eyes rolling back slightly as he tried to sit. Ran grabbed his shoulders and hugged him, despite the disgusting heat. "Ran… s'that you?"

The swordsman nodded and Miry hauled Ken out of the room, muttering something about supplies to help Schu. If he hadn't been so worried about the other man, he would've spared a moment's gratitude to the far more conscientious woman who was dragging the protesting soccer-player away.

"It's me, Gun," he said quietly, stroking at the sweat on the German's face. There was a faint thump at the wall and he heard some vague moaning. Farfarello and Nagi. Even in this heat, they managed to have wild—and very loud—sex. Ran rolled his eyes at the noise and tried to tune it out.

"Yeah, I know," grinned the orange-haired telepath, the glazed look on his eyes disappearing.

The redhead nearly dropped him, but Gunther grabbed the front of his shirt to keep himself upright. "Schuldig! You mean you lied about being sick?"

"No. I just… played it up a bit," laughed the other man.

Ran growled faintly. "You know, I don't think that's very funny," he muttered, prying away his friend's hands. "I thought there was something wrong."

Gunther pouted. "Ran…"

The swordsman sighed. After that one brief kiss they'd shared, there hadn't been anything more. They'd just been friendly, like always, acting kind of like it hadn't happened, almost. Although they were a bit more awkward about physical contact. Grabbing the telepath just now was all there had been since that incident, two days before.

"Don't pout at me! You tricked all of us," grumbled Ran, scowling slightly.

"No, I didn't. Just you… and Ken, by default… he's kind of dumb, isn't he?"

A pale hand ran through blood red hair, and the pyro-gifted young man rolled his eyes. "I won't deny that he's not the brightest crayon in the box…" he muttered. "But—wait, what are he and Miry doing, then?"

Closing his eyes, Gunther suddenly grinned. "Eating ice. On the table."

"Huh?"

"It pisses Brad off when people don't go to their rooms to have sex…"

"What?" Ran jumped to his feet, horrified.

Gunther laughed and looked up at him, head resting on the floorboards. "Although I'm sure Farf and Nagi and their rabbit-like libido do, too."

The redhead sank to the couch, dazed. "Is everyone having sex right now?"

"We aren't," pointed out the telepath, with a catlike grin.

Ran glared at him. "Besides us—and the answer is 'no,' by the way."

"Omi's not able to do much in the way of physical strain… although that basically just rules out athletic sex…"

"Would you please shut up?"

"Brad's not. He's just…" suddenly the German man laughed, loudly enough that there was a pause in the noise from beyond the wall. "Brad's jerking off!" he crowed.

Ran wanted to die. Maybe if I go and interrupt Ken and Miry? They can't be that far along…he thought.

"His boxers are around his ankles," commented Gunther, bringing a flush across the pyro's face. "So that leaves us as the only people not involved in some sexual activity…"

"For the last time, no!" yelled Ran, storming out of the room.

Crawford was sitting on the porch-like construct that served as a balcony, wearing a loose shirt and shorts. Undignified as such clothing may have been, it was far more undignified to pass out due to the heat and have to be lugged to the hospital. His head was swimming as he tried, desperately, to access his power. Nagi had barely been able to lift a cup of water after draining himself to help Omi, and Schuldig was no longer able to keep voices out. They were all suffering, but he was the worst off.

A noise behind him snapped him out of the trancelike state he'd been in, and he turned to see a white-faced Aya turning away very quickly.

"What is it?" he demanded irritably.

"Nothing, uh, sorry I… interrupted…" muttered the redhead.

"Interrupted my trance? You damned well ought to be! It's all your fault we're in this situation to begin with!" snapped Crawford, furious.

"Trance?"

"What the hell did you think I was doing?"

"Um…"

"Well?"

"Gun—er, Schuldig told me you were… masturbating," sighed the boy, peeling a few damp strands of crimson from his face with a look of disgust directed at the hair.

"You should know better than to listen to him."

"Yeah, well, he was being obnoxious…"

"He is always obnoxious. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

"He's not that bad!"

Crawford frowned. It sounded almost like Aya was defending the German telepath… which would have been funny, had the American not been so pissed off.

Before he could reply, though, a sharp shock went through him and he lunged, tackling the swordsman to the ground a split second before several bullets sliced through the air where he'd been standing.

"What the— ?" cried Aya, his head thudding unpleasantly against the ground.

"Kritiker! They've found us!" cried Crawford, rolling off of the redhead and dragging the younger man into cover, behind the wall.

"Shit!" hissed Schuldig, coming into the room and diving out of the way of several more rounds. There were several crashes and then Nagi and Farf came running out of their bedroom, flushed and sweaty, wearing… one another's boxers. The Irishman growled and ran back in to get his knives.

"What the fuck?" demanded Ken's voice, as he and the pyro girl came in from the kitchen area.

"They've found us! I don't know how, but they've found us!" cried Crawford, grabbing a gun and loading it as he ducked around the corner to exchange fire.

"What about Omi?" yelled the pyro, crouching on the opposite side and extending a hand to make flames blossom in front of the group of men approaching, shooting at them. She screamed in pain as a bullet sliced through her outstretched palm, eyes widening. The fire began to rage, uncontrolled.

"Just great, they injured the pyro!" moaned Nagi, grabbing a pair of guns from the bag. He was a remarkable shot, naturally, seeing as he could nudge bullets in any direction he chose. Schuldig put a hand on the boy's shoulder and the pair of them began shooting through the flames. A few bodies fell into the inferno.

"Can either of you control the fire?" shouted Crawford at Aya and Ken. The soccer player had dragged his girlfriend away from the door and was trying to bandage her destroyed hand. Useless. Aya, meanwhile, frowned and gritted his teeth, staring intently at the blaze outside.

"Trying…too…strong…" he gasped, sweat pouring off his face as his fists clenched and he tried to take control of the flames. He stopped, dropping to all fours and panting. "Can't. It's… too much…"

"Ran, I know you can do it!" whispered Schuldig. He turned and grabbed the younger man by the shoulders, raising him up and cupping his soaked face in one hand. "You can do this," he said in a quiet, emphatic voice. Dazed violet eyes stared back at him, and the telepath leaned in, kissing the boy fiercely on the mouth. "I know it!"

Crawford looked away and tried shooting at a couple other gunmen through the flames. This was messy, and things were looking very, very bad.

There was a crash outside and suddenly screams began to echo from the other side of the wall of fire created by Miry. Schuldig gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, releasing Aya as he caught himself with one hand on the ground.

"What's going on?" shouted the pre-cog. He looked around frantically, betraying his nervousness.

"Where's Farfarello?" called Nagi over the battering noise of gunfire.

"Agh—he's—they—attack on other—side," grunted Schuldig, who was being held up by Aya now.

"Forget about him," commanded Crawford. "Take the fire down so we know what's going on!"

The redhead concentrated, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, extending his hands towards the flames. They began to flicker madly, as the handsome swordsman collapsed to his knees, sweat pouring off of him. The screams increased and then a pale figure leapt through a break in the wall, holding a more slender, dark-haired form.

"Holy shit!" cried Nagi, moving as though to go after them. Crawford grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Don't," he commanded. "You'll get killed."

"But what about Farfarello and Omi?" screamed the boy, turning hate-filled eyes upon his leader.

"They can take care of themselves!" returned Crawford, pointing out the expert way the Irishman dodged behind cover, towing the young empath along, and then dove back through the inferno to emerge moments later with a lanky blonde form, which he tossed into the same place. A few seconds later, the flames snapped out, as both Aya and Miry collapsed to the ground, utterly unconscious.

Farfarello spun around to come face to face with Birman, one of the old Kritiker secretaries, and Agumi. His golden eye widened momentarily, and then narrowed, angry and dangerous. Nagi sprinted from the hotel, to be taken down by a shot in the shoulder from Birman. He flew several feet backwards, skidding across the dirty ground and clutching his pulpy shoulder in pain.

"NAGI!" screamed Schuldig, who had apparently recovered, pulling Aya out of harm's way.

"Hidaka!" shouted Crawford. "Come on, get your ass moving!"

Ken blinked and stared around, shocked, at the state of everyone. Crawford wondered momentarily how stupid the boy was, until, a second later, Birman's jacket burst into flames. The athlete stared at his hand, which was stretched towards her, and blinked, before frowning, gritting his teeth, and making the fire increase, exploding around the woman. She collapsed, writhing, to the ground.

"That's it!" screamed Agumi, leveling a gun at Farfarello's forehead. "If anyone makes another move, this psycho dies!"

Nagi yelled something incoherent, that sounded vaguely like 'You fucking prick!' But Crawford couldn't be completely sure. He frowned. He wasn't anywhere near a good enough shot to nail that Agumi bastard; Schu wasn't looking too good, and Ken wasn't going to be able to kill the man quick enough.

There was a moan from the corner and his eyes snapped there, momentarily. "Trade me…" hissed the pained voice of Miry. The American girl was cradling her hand to her chest, tears of pain trickling freely down her face, steaming as they hit her reddened, angry face.

"You?" Crawford almost laughed. Almost. But he was just desperate enough to try it.

He turned and stuck his head out the door, his body following and his gun dropping limply to the ground, where his toes connected with it and sent it spinning away. He raised his hands up to indicate that he was no harm, and called out to Agumi.

"Hey! We want to trade hostages!" he shouted. Blunt, straight to the point. But, for once in his life, Brad couldn't think of anything better. "You've already injured two of our members, and Farfarello is vital to Schwartz. We're willing to cut a deal with you and give you Bombay's secretary, in exchange for Berserker."

Agumi thought for a moment, and then trained his gun on Crawford, as Schuldig hefted the wounded American girl up and brought her outside. Farf tensed, as though ready to attack the man in front of him.

"Don't even think about it, Berserker," smirked the head of Kritiker, "Or I'll plug your leader and your telepath."

Farfarello made a vague growling noise in his throat, but backed off, as Schuldig limped up and dropped Miry at the other man's feet. She groaned, cradling her hand in pain. The gun lowered down to point at her.

"Traitors always die first," snarled Agumi, pulling the trigger.

Her hand hurt. It hurt like fuck. She'd never been shot before. She was eighteen, and had grown up in rural Texas. The closest she'd come to a bullet was when her father shot a water moccasin. Nothing more. But now, one had torn straight through her hand. There was a neat hole, beneath the bandages. Neat and round, edged with blood.

He was pulling the trigger. She had one chance. With the remnants of her energy, she poured flames from her body, out of her eyes and ears and nose and mouth, off of her skin and from her fingertips. The bandage hissed and crinkled to ash in seconds, and her clothes followed shortly after.

In seconds, there was little more than a charred skeleton with the melted metal of a gun on its hand where Agumi had stood.

She realized, suddenly, that the bullet had hit her, grazing along the side of her skull.

So, she thought, shot twice in one day…

Omi yelled when Agumi shot his friend. But, before he could leap out and further injure himself, the man erupted into flames, combusting into nothing in the space of a few seconds. On the ground, Miry was on fire as well, but she was a pyro, so there was nothing to worry about… except the bullet that had just been fired at her head, point blank.

"Yoji, she's--!"

"Wait, Omi-koi, just wait," said his lover, holding him back gently. Not like the archer could put up much of a struggle at this point in time anyway.

Ken ran over to the pyro girl a moment later, and Yoji scooped up his boyfriend to carry him there. Nagi, on the ground, was being lifted up by Farfarello and Crawford. Schuldig and Aya had their arms around one another, staggering outside together, both in need of heavy physical support.

"Ow, don't—touch—ng! —my shoulder," Nagi was hissing at Crawford as he tried to bandage it. Farfarello carried him into the house, with the pre-cog and telekinetic arguing the entire time.

Yoji stopped where Ken and Miry were. The girl was severely burned, skin bubbling in places. It was a truly horrible sight. Her hair was singed from her head, and her face was covered with ash. The young soccer-player was levering her off of the ground, having wrapped his shirt around her hastily.

"Can you say something to me, please, Miry?"

Her response was a strange garbling of several languages. Schuldig flopped to the ground wearily, blinking at the girl.

"She's in pain… and she's cold…"

"What about her gift?" demanded Ken, "Why didn't it protect her?"

The German shook his head. "Gone. Maybe it'll come back, but…"

Ken nodded painfully. "Let's get her to a hospital."

"I think we all kind of need a hospital," said Aya dryly, dropping to his knees beside the telepath.

"At least we're alive…." Schu muttered under his breath, leaning against the redhead and closing his eyes for a moment before they picked themselves up and moved onwards.

One year later…

"You know, I kind of like it out here," admitted Gunther, his cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his lover's shirt, and the firm chest beneath.

"You just don't like that there's not hordes of people to mess with," retorted Ran good-naturedly, toying absently with a strand of the brilliant hair fanned over him. They were lounged on an Australian beach—far from the desert—on a vacation with several of their friends.

A skinny, sunburned blonde girl yelped as someone splashed a bit of water on her and scrambled over to the pair of redheads, sand sticking all over the backs of her legs and her bottom. She grabbed their joined hands imploringly and shook them.

"Y-Y-Yoji s-s-splashed me!" she stammered, hazel eyes wide and pained.

The boys looked past her, to where Omi was berating his boyfriend for splashing the damaged ex-pyro.

"You're okay, Miry. The water can't hurt you anymore," said Gunther gently, pulling her into their laps and stroking her hair.

Ken sloshed out of the water, running his hands through his damp, dark hair, and came up to them.

"Mi-chan, are you all right?" he asked carefully, holding a hand out to her.

She grinned at him and let him scoop her up, leading her off on a walk. She was still unsteady on her legs, and her body had terrible burns all over it, especially on her arms. The psychic backlash of her extreme trauma had resulted in the ruination of her gift, and it had badly hurt her mind. Of all of them, she'd suffered from the worst injuries. Of course, Nagi hadn't been able to move his arm for a long time, which had apparently hindered his and Farf's bedroom games.

Gunther and Ran had decided, with Omi and Yoji, to stay in Australia, far away from any hint of Kritiker. They had, however, gone to Sydney, rather than that accursed desert. It took two months before Aya-chan joined them. To Ran's horror and disgust, she and Crawford had hit it off. They'd been together for almost four months. Omi and Yoji did get to tease the American man about being 'an idiot lovebird,' though, to their great joy.

Nagi and Farf had gone to Ireland, and from there, all around Europe. They'd invited Gun and Ran to visit them in Germany, which had been one of the better vacations the boys had had. Ken had, after a while of deliberating, chosen to stay with his old friends from Weiss, and with Miriam. Gunther had been largely responsible for her mental rehabilitation, especially the task of helping her brain sort the dozens of languages she spoke into separate ones, rather than one. Slowly, she'd recovered into some semblance of normality, to be sort of adopted by the telepath and his boyfriend. In many ways, the brain damage had left her in such a confused, childish state for so long, it was like she'd grown up all over. At long last, she and Ken were starting to edge towards being a bit more than friends.

Now the 'Blond Kois' were getting married—married—and so the whole group had reunited in Australia to celebrate. The 'Red Kois' were next, apparently.

"ACK!" cried Omi, as Aya-chan kicked him off of Yoji's shoulders. His hands grabbed at nothing as he and his lover splashed into the water backwards.

"Yeah!" shouted the girl, pumping her fist into the air enthusiastically. Crawford lowered her from his shoulders into the circle of his arms. "I told you we could kick your asses at chicken-fighting!"

"I still don't see why Farf and I weren't allowed to compete," complained Nagi, crossing his arms. His pale koi lowered his head to the boy's neck and afforded it the same licking-sucking-nibbling treatment he'd often reserved for his knives. Omi and Yoji, who'd just recovered, looked over and just shook their heads.

"Right, Nagi. We're really going to let you blast us with your powers…."

Gunther nuzzled at a button on Ran's shirt. "Wanna go join them?" he asked.

His boyfriend caught his chin and brought him up for a kiss.

"Hell no."

FIN

Well, that's that! The ending was kinda tacky, but I was starting to, um, get a bit bored…. Besides which, I lost the disk in the crap on the end of my bed…..

But it's done now! So review if you'd like. Thanks to Kasra for lots of nice reviews!