Fear In a Bottle

By Bl00deh Switch

Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. Weiss. Kreuz. And. All. Its. Characters.

A/N: Switch is suffering from a disease called 'Writers Block'. e_e;

---

Youji sighed, placing the novel down on his lap.

Eriko was at home now, and he was alone in the room.

It was around eleven at night, and the only source of light was a small lamp on the bedside table, which faintly illuminated the room.

The only sound heard was his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears.

Youji felt the migraine plague him suddenly, as he lay down on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

'Hmm....I wonder...'

Youji asked himself mentally, blinking briefly before scanning the walls for anything interesting.

He saw the window, the same small window he saw every day and night.

A million thoughts entered Youji's mind as he stood up out of bed, semi-limping towards the window, he glanced out.

Maybe he could break out some time soon.

Maybe....Tomorrow?

He smiled to himself, making his way back to the bed.

---

Bradley Crawford had an irritated scowl on his face... But...what else was new?

His calm brown eyes rested on the wall as the sound of Farfarello and Schuldig's yelling and arguing rang through the walls of the seperate rooms.

Nagi was in the room with Brad, both sharing the silence between them, acting disinterested, though their ears were perked up to hear what exactly was going on between the other two.

Brad dully noted his surroundings growing slightly out of focus, and the american pushed his glasses up, glancing over at Nagi's silent form.

The irritated look on his face subsided as he calmed down, ready to speak to Nagi.

But of course, the Telikinetic boy beat him to it, voice sounding soothing with the harsh yelling in the background.

"What happened?"

Nagi's voice was deadpan in the cold air.

Crawford did his best to answer, only the brief shrug of his shoulders and he was finished, slowly standing up, and stretching the small ache that had formed in his back.

"....Don't ask me."

***

Youji smirked mirthfully at the situation.

There he was,

Wearing his dark clothing and trench coat,

At the front door.

The secretary had been fooled, searching in the office for some files he had asked for.

Now was his chance....

And so he broke out of the hospital, fresh air filling his exhausted lungs as he tried his best to remain stable.

His knees were still weak, and his joints ached feverishly.

But he was out.

And that was all that mattered....

**

A/N: short because of the writers block. Im writing more soon enough. =3