Guilty Gear, its characters and settings are property of Sammy Studios, and are being used in this fanfiction without permission. This fic is rated R for violence and sexual content, and it contains yaoi material.

Sorry the updates have taken so long. And yes, it's a magical radio XP

Thunder Falling

Chapter 7

Being under house arrest, Anji was enjoying a drink in his room with his two companions when Wakami bustled inside. She had with her a small crystalline box, the portable version of the large ones that occupied most homes around the Colony. "It's Father," she told them urgently, activating the magic device with a wave of her hand.

The four crowded around, stilling their chatter as the voice of Murase Sousuke echoed through the small object. They listened to his announcement in attentive silence. Anji's eyes were half lidded and vague; he could imagine the men and women all over the colony seated before similar devices, most likely stunned. What he couldn't picture was what their reactions would be. In fact, he was still waiting on his own.

Murase's speech, though clear and to the point, drew on for some time as he explained to his people the reasons behind the decision he and the elders had come to. There was a lot of talk about the pride of their ancestors, the will for freedom, the equality of nations. Of striking out back into the world they deserved. Of displaying courage and fortitude in the face of disaster. And ironically, considering the season they were in, the laying to rest of tragedy and loss.

"This is our time," Murase's words filled the space of every home, restaurant, and business. "It is time for us to return home."

Baiken blew a ring of smoke; though her gaze was focused on the wall there was no doubt that she'd heard every word. "And now the riots," she muttered.

Anji frowned, but it was Chipp who replied to her first. "So what happens now?" he asked, glancing between Baiken, Anji, and Wakami. "Is the whole Colony going to move?"

"I don't know," Wakami admitted. "This is so sudden—where will we go?"

Baiken snorted. "Back to the real world," she said, tapping the ashes from her pipe. "Japan needs a lot of work before it can sustain any number of people, let alone a full population. There will probably be surveyors, then demolition and land-clearers, construction workers… But before that, they'll have to consult with the United Nations and Global Police, in order to reclaim their status as an independent country."

Chipp considered that as he leaned back on his hands. "Huh. Sounds…like a really big deal."

Though Baiken shot him a glare, Anji couldn't help but chuckle somewhat. "Yeah, Chipp. It'll be a very big deal." He reached for the cup he'd been sipping from all evening, gulping it down. "Looks like Baiken and I will be sticking around for a long while."

"Me?" Baiken glared at him. "You think I'm staying here through this mess? You've gotta be shitting me."

"You're the one that started it," Anji pointed out with a faint smile. "So now you have to see it through."

Baiken rolled her eye, and with a snort pushed to her feet. "I stayed away this long so I wouldn't have to deal with it," she muttered, moving to the panel which led out to the courtyard. She slid it open with her foot and slipped outside, but she didn't go far—just to lean against one of the wooden pillars along the porch.

Chipp spared a glance for her before turning back to Wakami. "Well, I guess your dad wouldn't go through with it if he wasn't sure about it, right?" he tried to assure her. "It'll be a big change but the real world isn't that bad. Most of the time. You know?"

"Yes, of course. It's just so strange…"

Anji glanced at them both, and after a moment went after Baiken. He paused in the open doorway, just watching her back as she continued to smoke. He knew better than to really listen to her sharp words; the uncharacteristic quiet she held now was proof enough that she was taking the news seriously. Getting her to admit it, though, would take some careful wording.

"Hey." Anji didn't attempt any closer, uncertain how much it would take to spur her stubbornness on. "What are you thinking?"

Baiken sighed, a thin trail of tobacco smoke rising. "I don't know," she confessed gruffly. "What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know." Taking a chance Anji edged a step closer, moving up beside her. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

He leaned down a little to see her face, and was surprised to see how solemn her expression appeared. She'd been surprising him a lot lately, with that look of hers. He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from her face.

Baiken's eye narrowed and swiveled up to him, and with a sheepish smile he pulled his hand back. "Did you hear me?"

She looked away again. "I didn't want this," she finally answered. "It's just the best solution. That's all."

Anji's own expression softened a little as he continued to watch her. "You really do care about us all, don't you?" he asked quietly.

Baiken lifted her head, looking startled and, for a moment, almost vulnerable. It was greater an opportunity than Anji needed, and he leaned closer still, touching his lips briefly to hers. It wasn't until they'd brushed that he realized just how long he had been waiting for that contact, and he surprised himself by being satisfied with it.

Baiken pulled back, sharply, and probably too soon for the touch of mouth to even really be considered a kiss. She stared back at him, and for what may have been the first time in his memory he couldn't make any sense of the face she was making at him. She didn't look angry or even startled—maybe only vaguely disturbed as she turned away, striding evenly away.

Anji sighed quietly, and when he turned back towards his room should have expected to see Chipp and Wakami staring at him. He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Um…"

"Smooth, Anji," Chipp snickered from behind his hand. "Way smooth."

Anji blushed, and shoved Chipp back onto his rear as he moved into room once more. "Go drink your saké, Chipp," he muttered, sitting down in front of the radio.

OoooooO

Ky and his officers searched all through the night with very little to show for it. Despite the injury Axl had described Venom as having, they were unable to discover a trail of blood from the scene past the alley. No one had seen him escape. No one had even known one of the planet's most wanted criminals was even in town. All they had to go on was the testimony of a motel maid, who had nearly been assaulted by Axl and Venom that morning. Since then Axl had apparently returned to reclaim the rest of their belongings. Ky was beginning to wish with great bitterness that he had not released Axl when he did; by now it was obvious that the pair was indeed working together. Though what Axl Low stood to gain from aiding a global criminal was beyond Ky's comprehension.

It wasn't until sunrise was nearly upon them that Ky's officers—and several volunteers from among the veterans—convinced their leader to return home. He was still off duty, after all, and they insisted that he rest after so long and trying a day. Ky was stubbornly reluctant, and in the end in took Bridget's threats of creative headlocks that at last convinced him. The young bounty hunter had not left his side during any of it; Ky was able to rationalize momentarily abandoning the search if only to get Bridget to rest as well.

They returned to his small Paris house just as the eastern skyline was beginning to glow. Ky managed only to remove his gloves, boots, and sword belt before fatigue prevented him from going further. He retreated into the living room, hoping that at least some of his worries would be eased by seeing Testament returned and well. But…the Gear was not there.

"Testament?" Ky moved through the house, wondering if perhaps he had long since gone to bed himself, but there was no trace of him, or even that he had returned after their separation that afternoon. Ky returned from the upstairs with a frown, trailing his hand along the back of his small sofa as his eyes made one last sweep of the room.

Bridget stifled a yawn as he rummaged through Ky's cupboards. "He's not back yet?"

"No." Ky lowered his eyes, and with a weary sigh sank onto the couch. He was still a moment, and then his fist came down on the armrest in frustration. "Where the hell is he? Every available police and former Holy Order officer is out on the streets tonight—he can't stay hidden for long."

"Do you mean Testament?" Bridget asked as he trotted over. "Or the assassin?" He offered one of the small shortbread cookies he'd managed to unearth. "Cookie?"

Ky regarded the offering blankly for a long moment before finally accepting, nibbling half-heartedly. As ridiculous as it seemed, he felt a little better. Maybe it was just having a bit of food in his stomach. "Thank you," he murmured.

Bridget plunked down on the sofa next to him, bouncing a little on the cushions. He covered another yawn. "Testament will be fine," he assured easily. "And the assassin guy can't get that far, right? There was a lot of blood in that place—he could even be dead by now. Either way, they'll find him."

Ky's eyes narrowed. "That's…part of what worries me," he muttered. "It was a lot of blood. Enough that most men wouldn't have survived. Not without…help."

Bridget watched him, waiting for further explanation, but Ky wasn't ready to form the thoughts in his own mind to a reasonable conclusion, let alone voice them. He sighed again, and plucked another cookie out of Bridget's hands. "Never mind. I can't think well right now." He rubbed at his eyes, which were beginning to sore with fatigue. "It's been a long day…"

A smaller body pressed up against his side, and Ky blinked—Bridget had rested his chin on his shoulder, and was watching him from very close. "So go to sleep," he suggested, looking halfway toward that advice already. "You look really awful, you know. And if you stay right on the sofa here, you'll be sure to hear when Testament gets back, right?"

Ky made a face, not exactly flattered by Bridget's declaration of his poor state. But he was exhausted, and the idea held promise… He smiled wearily and nodded. "All right, Bridget. I can't argue with you." He began to shift, drawing his legs up onto the sofa as Bridget edged back to give him room. "You can take my bed upstairs, if you want…" He covered a yawn of his own.

Bridget slid to the edge of the sofa, watching as Ky gradually stretched out to rest his head against one of the decorative pillows. He licked his lips as he waited for the officer to settle, and then shifted a bit closer, keeping a close vigil of his face. He looked so much like he had earlier, so tired…. "Ky…?"

"Hm…?" As soon as Ky's eyelids slid shut his entire body seemed to relax; it was somewhat fascinating to watch, as if he were literally sinking into the soft sofa cushions. Testimony to his exhaustion his breath was already coming more deeply.

Bridget took advantage of the man's failing consciousness to ask, "Can I stay here with you?"

"All right…if you want. Though it might not be that comfortable."

"I'll be fine," Bridget assured, his cheeks warming a little. He pushed up on his knees, and was delighted when Ky shifted sleepily, allowing him to lie between him and the sofa back. He knew this was probably wildly inappropriate of him, to be seeking this kind of half-coerced affection, but it had been a long day for him as well. Bridget reasoned that, having accompanied Ky through the morning, memorial, police station, and the late night streets of Paris had earned him a bit of pleasant rest. And, of course, he wanted to wait up for Testament, too.

Adjusting the two bodies to each other was a bit awkward in the small space, but Bridget was too determined to be put out and Ky too weary to care. Ultimately Ky lifted his arm so the boy could sidle up against his side, head resting against his shoulder. Bridget shivered happily as Ky's hand came to rest against his back once they'd settled. Though it was wrong of him to satisfy his curiosity when Ky was suffering so many anxieties, he couldn't battle back the little flutter in his chest. Curled against a strong, mature body…watching Ky's features relax into handsome tranquility…it was everything he had dreamed of in the nights since Italy.

"Ky…?" Bridget stretched his head up a little, and when the officer didn't reply he deemed it safe to press a little kiss to Ky's cheek. The officer didn't move, encouraging another. But when Bridget tried to lift himself higher, to maybe try for something even sweeter, Ky hummed quietly in his sleep and he lost his nerve. But the two little kisses and a comfortable resting place were more than enough to placate Bridget for now, and with a tiny giggle he relaxed against Ky's chest and was soon asleep.

OoooooO

"Rue Beaubourg…Rue Beabourg….white house…white…aha! Gotcha."

Axl hopped down from the roof to the fire escape, and from there carefully made his way down to the street. He had spent most of the night moving from rooftop to rooftop, doing his best to keep out of the sight of the different law officers moving about the city. He had managed to save Venom's travel briefcase from the motel before the police got there, at least—by now he was pretty sure that Ky had caught onto him, and he had no intention of facing another interrogation.

For now, it seemed that the search had calmed somewhat in the hours between night and dawn, and Axl took his chance to skitter across the road to the small white shack. He moved around to the back and knocked. "Hello? I'm completely harmless, really!"

There was no answer, and after a full minute of knocking without any sign of being answered he was beginning to wonder if Testament had misspoken. Or maybe it was a trap…? But then the door jerked open suddenly, and with a yelp Axl hopped back several steps. He gulped. "Are…you…?"

Opposite him in the doorway was an unnaturally tall figure of a man, dressed in a white overcoat and blue tie. Though a seven foot tall man would normally draw a lot of attention, Axl found his gaze drawn most acutely to the brown paper bag set over his head, which in turn donned a blue and white party hat.

"What?" the man asked in a high voice as Axl continued to gape. He pointed to the hat. "It's a holiday season, you know."

Axl stumbled over a response. "Told me to come here," he managed to stammer out. "The white-haired guy…friend…um, I think this is maybe the wrong house…?"

"Aha!" the man crowed, and Axl jumped, nearly ready to bolt once more; he'd had enough strange characters to last him a while. But before he could decide on a direction the man's wide hand curled in his jacket-front, jerking him up the steps and into the shack. "I've been waiting," he rattled on as he pulled the startled blonde along. "The Gear told me you'd be coming. That's really something, you actually showing up—as much as me accepting him in the first place. I've just finished the operation."

"Operation?" Axl echoed with trepidation. When he looked harder, he could see flecks of blood beneath the man's fingernails. He gulped. "Are you…a healer?"

"Better," he replied, and suddenly the man stopped, kicking over a nearby chair—a large section of the floor came with it, falling back to reveal a staircase heading into a dimly lit basement. "I'm a doctor."

Axl allowed himself to be guided down the narrow steps, careful of his luggage in the small space. The walls were thick concrete, unusually warm given their being underground, and the space was eerily lit with magic lights along the ceiling. They cast strange shadows on his even stranger host. "A doctor," he echoed belatedly as the steps leveled out to open floor. "A real physician?"

"Yes indeed—Faust, I'm called." He paused long enough to take Axl's hand and pump it strong.

"Axl Low," the blonde introduced dumbly. So Testament had really taken Venom to a healer—even now he almost didn't believe it. At least, not until he spotted a wisp of pale hair in the next room. When Faust motioned that it was all right for him to investigate further he did so, creeping into the room. It was a small, white-walled chamber with blue drapes over a fake window, but most importantly a bed against the wall bearing the slumbering form of Venom. Axl moved to crouch next to it, taking a look of the man. He looked a little less pale than last he'd seen him, his wounds dressed and clothing replaced by a long white dressing gown. Axl sighed quietly in relief. "Is he all right?"

"He should recover fully," Faust replied, and though Axl couldn't see his face there was something tense in his voice that didn't help him feel any better. "Though it looks like someone gave him a boost before I got him. He's pretty far down under some drugs I gave him—he won't be saying howdy-doo anytime soon."

Axl grinned. "Thanks, Doc. I owe ya." He chuckled a little to himself—when he'd sent Testament after a "crooked bloke" he hadn't meant downright odd. But at least Venom did seem to be doing all right. "Is it okay if I wait around for him to wake up? Y'know, just to make sure he's right up'n all."

"If you want. There's an extra bed in the next room." Faust backed out into the larger chamber. "Unless, of course, someone comes in needing it." Slouching forward a little, he moved off.

Axl gave a slight shrug and stood. "What a day, huh, ya damn ruffian?" he laughed quietly. Venom's full face was exposed in the dull light, thanks to Faust having tied his hair back while he operated. He didn't exactly look peaceful so much as deeply asleep, but Axl was still relieved. "I went through lots of trouble for you. I hope you're grateful."

Suppressing a yawn, Axl left in search of the bed Faust had mentioned.

OoooooO

Testament didn't return to Ky's small house until after dawn the next morning. Along the way he had discarded and incinerated his own bloodied coat, just to keep Ky from worrying when he showed up again. Though maybe "suspecting" would have fit more than "worrying." Even he had had a difficult time moving through the city with so many various officers moving about, doubtlessly under Ky's own orders. Looking for whoever had aided Venom's escape…

He moved down the front hall silently, intending to find himself something to eat while he waited for Ky to return home, or wake up, whichever happened to be the case. He was paused, however, by the sight of Ky and Bridget nestled together on the sofa. Frowning, he stood watching them for some time before moving forward. Both looked to be soundly asleep. Despite how strange the day had been he couldn't help but feel more relaxed just by seeing them.

Testament crouched down beside the sofa, and just because he could pressed a full kiss to Ky's lips. He felt the man stir beneath him, drawing a breath through his nose as his head tilted up to meet the early morning affection. The movement started to draw Bridget awake as well, and Testament reached out to cover the boy's eyes, as if keeping the morning light from him would prevent him from waking just yet.

Ky urged him gently back, greeting him with a tired smile. "We were waiting up for you," he chuckled.

Testament smiled thinly. "I can see that." He glanced at Bridget, who had fallen still again, his first curled up next to his cheek like a small child. "Do you need some help getting away?"

Ky sighed and nodded. Both being as careful and quiet as possible Ky managed to slip off of the sofa, and Testament slung an arm around his waist to pull him up on his feet. The officer suppressed a chuckle, but was soon serious. "Where were you all last night?" he asked with concern. "Every officer in Paris was out—we were worried."

"I was lost," Testament replied, which was pretty much the truth. "And I did see your officers. It took me most of the night just to get back here without being seen."

Ky sighed again, and gave him a brief hug before pulling away. "I was worried," he repeated as he headed toward the kitchen. "You shouldn't have gone so far from the house. I'm glad you and Bridget came to visit, but you certainly picked the worst time of the year for it."

Testament gave Bridget a pillow to hug before following Ky into the kitchen. "I can take care of myself."

"I know, but that's beside the point. And now assassins…" He moved to fill his teapot at the sink. "Were you in the south end of town today?"

Testament's fingers curled slightly. "South end?" he echoed innocently. "I was lost, but…I think so." He wasn't going to lie. There was no reason for that, especially when…Ky's tone sounded almost testing.

Once the fire was lit for the kettle Ky moved away, retrieving tea leaves from a small wooden box near the stove. "Venom was. You know of him, don't you? The assassin?" Ky shook his head in disbelief. "Right in the middle of Paris."

"That's…pretty bold of him."

"Yes, it is." Ky turned away to retrieve sugar to go with his drink. "Axl was there, too."

Testament's eyes narrowed; he was caught. He should have realized that even after helping the pair Axl would still report having seen him to the police. It was no wonder he'd been so wary of him when they met outside the office headquarters. And now Ky knew, which meant—

"He saw you there, you know," Ky continued, finally turning to face Testament across the kitchen. His eyes were weary, but firm. "That's all he said, but I know he wouldn't have seen you at all unless you'd let him. So what happened?"

Testament stared back at him, and though he suddenly regretted having ever left the house at all he didn't falter beneath Ky's steady gaze. "Nothing important."

Ky set his sugar cup down heavily on the countertop, so that the ceramic lid clattered off and spilled some of the contents. "Axl was helping Venom—you were with Axl. I know you did something, Testament."

Though Testament would have loved to deny it, that wouldn't have helped him against Ky. And…he didn't want to, he realized. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "I happened on them by chance," admitted evenly. "The man was bleeding badly so I stopped it, and dropped him off with a healer."

Ky straightened, his eyes widening as if he hadn't been prepared for Testament to actually answer. Some of the color drained from his face. "Why?" he asked quietly. "You know what he is. You…helped him?"

"Who he is and what he does doesn't have much of an effect on me, does it?" Testament countered. "He was hurt and I helped him." His eyes thinned. "Just like I did you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ky snapped, his anger abruptly resurfacing. He marched forward. "Venom is a murderer and wanted criminal. You know how long I've been after him, how many men I've lost. It's probably even me he's in the city to kill!"

Testament leaned back against the countertop. "He's not going to be killing anyone. He's still badly wounded."

Ky glared at him, his posture tense. He could see the muscles in the officer's jaw working to draw forth a response. "So," Ky said at last. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Probably still with the healer."

Ky's eyes narrowed in frustration. "And this healer is…?"

Testament pursed his lips as something cool and hollow pulsed in his stomach. If he told Ky where the man was, he would rally his officers and kill him, and probably Axl, too, if he found him. There was no doubt in his mind, also, that Ky would do so without waiting for either of their explanations. Though Testament himself really didn't care either way, there was something in Ky's anxious manner that was making him uneasy. "I saved a man's life," he said quietly. "I thought that was what you wanted of me."

Ky snorted and turned away, leaving his tea as he hunted for his boots and gloves. "What you saved," he muttered, "is not a man. He's a cold blooded killer, and he's going to pay for every life he's taken."

Testament closed his eyes a moment, but there was no halting the suddenly bitter taste he imagined at the back of his throat. Ky couldn't even realize what he himself was saying. "You haven't really changed at all, have you?"

Ky buckled up his boots and then started on his gloves. "I don't know what you mean."

Testament started to explain, but then stopped himself, simply watching Ky with dull eyes as he finished his dressing. It wasn't as if pointing it out to Ky would change anything. He sighed wearily. "You're such a hypocrite."

Ky was suddenly standing before him, his eyes nearly blazing. "Where is he?" he demanded, Thunderseal clasped tightly in his grip.

Testament regarded him blankly and then glanced away. "I can't tell you."

Though Testament was expecting a reprimand, the swift impact of gloved knuckles to his unguarded stomach was far greater than he was ready for. His breath left him all at once, and as Ky turned sharply away he grasped at the countertop to keep from dropping to his knees.

"I'll find him myself," Ky snapped, not looking back.

"Testament…?" a hesitant voice sounded near his ear, accompanied by the heavy thud of Ky's front door slamming. Testament gasped after his lost breath and, with Bridget's support, managed to push himself upright once more. He grimaced as he rubbed his stomach—the pain was already subsiding.

"Testament?" Bridget said again, taking a step back. "What's going on? Where's Ky go—"

"It's nothing," Testament interrupted bitterly. "Damnit…damnit, Ky…!"

Testament pushed away from the still flustered and confused Bridget, but he knew better than to leave the house—in full daylight, any one of the Holy Order veterans would be able to spot and recognize him. With another half-hearted curse he moved slump onto the sofa.

"I'm going to sleep," he muttered, pulling a pillow onto his head to block out the sun. The last thing he saw before his sight was obstructed was Bridget taking Ky's abandoned tea kettle off the stove.