Ende des Weiss?

by oooknuk

Summary:

Ran's demons endanger them all

Notes:

My thanks toTiggy for betaing this, yet again, and for her support and friendship

Chapter 1

With the advantage of hindsight (something that Schuldig didn't need any special powers to use), he had been ludicrously impulsive in accepting Yohji's offer. Worse than that, he'd been swayed by emotion and sentiment, and he just knew Brad was laughing his ass off wherever he was, watching the mess Schuldig was in now.

He should have known – he had known, if he was perfectly truthful – that Fujimiya's order that the security anklet be removed, in effect saying he was free to go, was in fact an order to go. Yohji, of course, being a kindly man, had chosen to interpret that as Schuldig having a choice. More than that, Yohji had encouraged him to stay, and it being the first time in Schuldig's life that someone had offered him a chance to belong not because of his powers or his willingness, but purely out of friendship, Schuldig had overridden his natural good sense and accepted.

The warm glow that this had given him had lasted all that morning – right up to the moment that Yohji had gone in to visit his foul-natured lover and told him that Schuldig was staying. Schuldig, Omi and Ken had been sitting in the kitchen when that happened but the separation by a door and a floor hadn't hampered their ability to hear the whole charming conversation that followed. The exchange about who did or did not have the right to invite someone to become a member of Weiss had left Omi with bright spots of anger in his cheeks, Ken looking extremely unhappy, and Schuldig with a burning desire to go up and find out if the stick up Fujimiya's arse would prevent the insertion of his katana as well.

Now Omi was upstairs too, and Schuldig guessed the infrequent respite in the noise was when the kid was talking. Yohji and Fujimiya weren't moderating their tone at all, although it seemed that while Yohji was yelling only at Fujimiya, the redhead was an equal opportunity screamer – both his team mates were getting it in the neck, although Yohji seemed to be his main target. Omi was collateral damage.

"Perhaps I should just leave," Schuldig said. He was used to arguments going on around him, but he wasn't used to being the cause of them. Correction – the unwitting cause. Starting fights was a speciality of his, but in this case, it was the last thing he wanted.

"He'll calm down," Ken said, with more confidence in his voice than his expression. "Yohji will talk him into it."

"Somehow I doubt that, Ken."

"Sure he will. This isn't the first time Weiss has had someone foisted on them. I punched Ran's lights out when Manx threw him at us."

"Really?" Schuldig had never heard this story. "Why?"

"Because he was a cold little prick and we didn't know who he was. It was Yohji who said he was called Aya – we didn't find out any different for a year. We knew nothing about him, his sister, his parents. And I didn't like Yohji much either to begin with."

This was fascinating. Much more so than the anger pouring down the stairwell. "Why? I thought you all loved Yohji." With good reason too, Schuldig thought. The man was the heart of Weiss. Fujimiya was its spine, Omi its brain, but Yohji was what kept them going. Or so it seemed to him.

"Now, yeah. Back then...." Ken poured himself more tea before he continued. "He was like Ran, in a way. With Ran it was a 'don't touch me, you unworthy mortals' kinda thing. With Yohji it was 'touch all you like, I won't feel it.' But both of them were pushing people away. Yohji drove me crazy – he didn't seem to take anything seriously, nothing was important to him, and the way he treated his body...." Ken shrugged and smiled. "I had issues," he said simply. "But we didn't find out why he was like that for a long time either. Until then, we clashed non-stop. In some ways I think I got on better with Ran than with Yohji a lot of the time."

"I think I'm a different case, Ken," Schuldig said. "I was the enemy."

"Yes, I know. But Yohji and Omi are on your side. So am I, I guess."

"Until I fuck up," Schuldig said with a little bitterness.

"Depends on how you fuck up, Schuldig. Making a mistake on a mission, we all do that. Actively harming any one of us by choice, that's different. I know you know the difference. Don't tell me Crawford would have tolerated that."

"No. But he would never have taken me in either. He had no patience with weakness."

Ken looked startled that Schuldig was sharing this with him. Schuldig wasn't sure why he was, except that his dead friends were much on his mind today. If Fujimiya thought Yohji had betrayed Weiss, Schuldig was only slightly less sure that he had not betrayed the memory of Schwarz. Only that he knew Brad wanted them all to survive, to have a life outside Estet, and that ultimately the other three had died fighting for that dream, allowed him to give this a try. The continued yelling above them was eroding his confidence with every second.

"I'm going for a walk," he said suddenly, standing up. Ken made no comment but gave him a look of concern, probably because it was the first time that Schuldig had been able to do any such thing unaccompanied since he'd come to stay with them. The thought was oddly discomforting to Schuldig too, but the urge to move, to escape the unpleasantness, was stronger than his anxiety.

But before he could even leave the room and get his coat, a door slammed and he heard someone stomping down the stairs. Yohji came into the kitchen a moment later, and seemed taken aback to see them both there. "Oh. Uh. Schuldig...."

"Where's Omi?" Ken asked, but then the kid walked in behind Yohji. "Omi, are you all right? Did Ran upset you?"

"I can handle Ran," Omi said through gritted teeth. "I just don't think I should have to," he added bitterly.

Yohji grimaced. "I'm gonna go talk to him again...."

"Leave him alone, Yohji-kun," Omi interrupted. "When he's in a fit state to talk sense into, I'll try myself. You've done enough."

Yohji winced. "Omi, I'm sorry...."

Omi glanced in Yohji's direction and a forced-looking smile appeared on his face. "No, wait. That came out badly. I don't mean you did anything wrong. I meant that you've done all you can. Thank you."

Yohji put his hand on Omi's shoulder. "I'm still sorry, Omittchi." As he spoke, he looked at Schuldig, an unfathomable expression in his eyes. "I'm going to go sulk in the living room if anyone needs me."

Omi smiled again, a little more normally this time, but Yohji's automatic answering grin didn't reach his eyes. He turned abruptly and walked out.

"Omi?" Ken asked gently.

"I just wonder," Omi said in a shaky voice, "how much more of my life I have to give to Weiss before Ran accepts that I've given enough."

"Omi." Ken wheeled himself over to his friend and took his hand. "Sit down. You know he doesn't mean it."

"He does, Ken. That's the problem. He doesn't actually understand the difficulty. It's hard enough fighting Estet without fighting my best friends too."

Goddammit, the kitten was actually crying. "I'll go speak to him," Schuldig growled, sick to death of being a stick to beat other people with.

But Ken reached across and grabbed his arm. "Schuldig, don't. Please don't. When Ran gets like this...he feels under attack and there's no telling what he'll do."

"I can't just sit here and be the problem, Ken!" Schuldig exploded.

"If you want to help, go talk to Yohji. He needs someone to shout at who might listen and he won't yell at us." Ken let go of his arm. "It's the best thing you could do for him." He nodded at Omi, who was resting his head on his folded arms, his face hidden. "I'll look after things here," he added quietly.

Still Schuldig hesitated, unused to the role of comforter, but Ken cocked his head, indicating that his destination was elsewhere. So Schuldig went looking for Yohji.

He found him in the living room, in one of the armchairs, his legs pulled under his chin, his arms wrapped around his legs. He glanced up at Schuldig.

"Ken said I should let you yell at me. Said it would be good for you."

Yohji laughed a little and put his legs down. "I don't want to yell at anyone any more. Takes too much energy." Schuldig sat down. "I guess you heard most of it."

"Until Omi went upstairs, yeah."

"I should have waited until he'd taken his painkillers. He was hurting and then he got too angry to take them."

"Yohji, you are not responsible for Ran's behaviour. Or his bad temper. You don't need to keep explaining him to me."

Yohji gave him a rueful grin. "Yeah, but you're not getting a good opinion of him."

"I don't give a damn about him. I don't care what he thinks or how he feels."

"And he's the same about you, so, that's terrific. I can see a lot of progress being made there. He wants to believe you're an evil, lying prick, and you want to believe he's nothing but a short-tempered tyrant."

"He is," Schuldig snapped. "And a damn bully – Omi's crying in the kitchen, you know that?"

"He and Omi have things to work out, sure. But don't judge Ran when he's sick, and don't judge him when he's off-balance either, Schuldig. If he was like this all the time, do you think I'd love him as much as I do?"

Now Yohji was glaring at him. "I have no idea, Kudoh. You have a capacity for delusion which astonishes me. After all, why did you let me stay? A sensible person wouldn't have."

"No one's ever accused me of being sensible," Yohji said tiredly, tipping his head back against the cushions. "Anyway, this isn't about you. Not mostly, anyway. He asked me to help him kill Tennchi and I said this time we should wait until it fitted in with our strategy. That's what really set him off. You're just the icing on the cake."

"Tell me what I should do, Yohji. Should I leave?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Yohji asked flatly.

"Because I'm causing friction, and much as I would once have loved to do that to Weiss, it's no fun now."

Yohji had his eyes closed, and appeared not to be listening, which Schuldig found insulting. But then – "I try," Yohji murmured, "to do the right thing, but I keep fucking it up."

"By asking me to stay?"

"By wanting things I can't have."

Schuldig was surprised at that. "What do you want, Yohji?" he asked gently.

"I want Ran to be happy. I want you to be part of Weiss because you need a team and we need you. I want, some day, to wake up in the morning and not have the end of Estet be my only reason for getting out of bed."

Schuldig could see how these things seemed impossible to Yohji. They seemed damn impossible to him. "What can I do to help?" he asked a little hopelessly.

"Nothing, Schuldig. Nothing that you aren't doing already. Be nice to the others, don't provoke Ran, help Omi make mission plans."

"What about you?"

"Eh?"

"I was asking how I can help you."

"Those things...."

"Are about the others, Yohji." He leaned forward. "What helps you?"

Yohji looked at him. "I don't think you understand. Helping them helps me. They're my family, Schuldig."

Schuldig snorted in derision. "And when they make themselves miserable because of their own blind stupidity, you suffer needlessly."

Yohji's fine brows drew together and his lips pursed. "Ran is neither blind nor stupid and I won't sit here and listen to you run him down. I've told you that before...."

"Before he nearly got you killed, you mean," Schuldig snapped, his body going into battle mode without his conscious will. "The man is so wrapped up in his personal vendetta that he thinks Weiss is his personal killing machine!"

"Oh and you don't think that?" Yohji said in a tight voice. "This morning you said the only thing you wanted in life was revenge and to destroy Estet. How do you think that differs from Ran's motives?"

"I'm not trying to get other people killed while I do it."

Yohji glared at him. "Ran cares about this team, Schuldig. He's proved that over and over. He's not trying to get anyone killed."

"He doesn't care who he hurts, and he's thrashing about like a spoiled brat."

"He saw the man who killed his sister, Schuldig. Not just killed her – Tennchi tore her apart and let her die in agony, and he smiled as he did it. He smiled at Ran as Aya died. You tell me that you'd be any more rational."

"Fine," Schuldig said unsympathetically. "His pain is the worst any human being could ever feel. So why was Omi yelling at him? Why aren't you skipping off to do his bidding?"

Schuldig didn't want to be doing this. He had come in to make Yohji feel better, not worse.

"You're not helping," Yohji said, echoing his thoughts. "And you're not making any attempt to listen to me or to understand him, so I don't know why you're bothering."

Affronted, Schuldig snapped, "I want to help but you're all so insistent on wallowing in your damn misery!"

"Hah, like you can damn well talk. You wallow at Olympic standard. You could wallow for Germany. You could teach Wallowing 101 at Tokyo University."

A lazy grin was curving Yohji's generous mouth, and despite himself, Schuldig found himself grinning back. "God, you're a wanker, Kudoh."

"That's pretty much all that's left to me these days," Yohji said dryly.

"See? There's an issue right there you should be pushing the little ice prince over and you won't because you think his needs are more important than yours."

"What the hell do you think I should do, Schuldig? Force myself on him? Rape him?"

"No, you tell him to get his shit together and either love you or leave you!" Schuldig shouted.

The silence was deafening. "You've never been in love, have you?" Yohji said almost casually. "I doubt you've ever loved anyone."

"No, but what's that got to do with anything, Kudoh? I can see...."

"You can see but you can't feel, Schuldig. Yes, things are tough now and I'm not happy. Yes, I'm sex-starved and really sick of Mrs Palm and her five daughters. But you don't just give up on someone because they're in trouble. Ran was there when I needed him. I'm here now for him. If he can't deal with a sexual relationship, then why would I want to make him? I don't see this as a permanent situation, but even if it is, even if we never have sex again, I will always love him. I can't make you understand that, because you won't or can't understand him. What you're seeing now is Ran at his low point. You won't help me by trying to turn me against him."

"All right, I can understand that, at least. But why the hell do you put up with it making you so unhappy?"

"I'm not unhappy, Schuldig. I'm frustrated, there's a difference. I'm also worried about him."

"And you want to cave in his skull for being an ass but you can't," Schuldig couldn't help but add.

Yohji smiled, although his eyes were sad. "Sometimes I would like to give him a firm prod, yeah. But I don't want to hurt him, I don't want him hurt, and I don't want the others hurt either. That includes you, in case you don't realise. The problem is that in denying him what would hurt the rest of us, he thinks I am hurting him." He sighed and closed his eyes. "That's what I mean about fucking up."

Schuldig once again felt the unfamiliar sensation of wanting to hug Yohji, and suppressed it. The blond would not appreciate the gesture. "I don't know about being in love, you're right about that, but I do know this isn't your fault. Deal with Fujimiya as you need to, but stop blaming yourself."

"Easier said than done," Yohji murmured. "You've really never been in love?"

"No. You don't meet a lot of potential partners in my line of work," Schuldig said with perfect honesty. "Knowing what goes on in people's heads isn't exactly a turn on either."

"I guess not. No one on your team? What about Crawford? He was kinda hot in a creepy sort of way."

"Yeah, you have no idea," Schuldig said a little smugly. "We used to fuck, but he was obsessed with someone else."

Yohji sat up and looked interested, his love of gossip clearly piqued. "Yeah? Who?"

"Another American, a student at Rosenkrüs. Estet separated them when they found out. So, you know, forbidden love, yadda yadda. Very boring. But relieving his frustration was fun."

"I bet. What about the kid? He had that thing with the Schreiend girl, the nutty one."

Schuldig considered the members of Schreiend. "That doesn't narrow it down much, you know," he pointed out. "Tot, yeah. Silly bitch got herself killed, Nagi was heartbroken, yadda yadda."

Yohji's mouth twitched in an almost grin. "You're not very sympathetic, Schuldig."

"What can I say? Other people screwing up their lives for love is dull."

"Is that why you never fell in love yourself?" Yohji asked, and Schuldig remembered that this was not, after all, a stupid person he was talking to.

"No. Like I said, I just never met the right person. Sex is easier to come by."

"You're only young, I guess. Still, not to have had at least one romance at twenty five is sad."

"Says the man dating his own hand."

Yohji rolled his eyes. "It is way too early in the day for this conversation, Schuldig. I never thought I'd be talking about sex to a member of Schwarz, and just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder."

"Ja, it could. You could be fucking a member of Schwarz."

Yohji shuddered. "For some reason, I just thought of Farfarello. Thank you so much for that image, but I think I want to get some gym work in before I eat." He stood up and touched Schuldig's shoulder. "Thanks. I appreciate what you were trying to do."

And then he was gone, leaving Schuldig with a vague sense of not having quite got what he'd bargained for out of that conversation.

 

---

Yohji really did mean to go up to the workout room, but as he passed by the kitchen, he saw Ken and Omi huddled together, and realised that Omi was still upset. He went over to the sink and filled the kettle. "Tea and some lunch, ladies, what do you think?"

Omi sniffled. "I'll get it, Yohji."

"Sit down, kid, I can do it." He pulled out some frozen beef stew from the freezer, ran the container under the tap and dumped the contents into a saucepan. It wasn't exactly gourmet, but with some bread, it would be hearty and warming, which he felt they all needed. He still felt cold after his dunking and the atmosphere was definitely chilly. Omi had his arms wrapped around himself and he looked pale. Yohji wondered if the kid was coming down with something. "You sick, Omittchi?" he asked gently. Omi was rarely ill, but he had once been prone to colds and minor illnesses picked up at school, and Yohji was used to him trying to soldier on until he collapsed.

"I have a headache," Omi admitted.

"Ah, well, Ken will get you some aspirin and with a little tea and uncle Yohji's patented TLC you'll be fine," he said cheerfully. Ken left the room to find the medicine. "Don't let Ran upset you, Omi. He's not himself right now."

Omi's head hung down, and Yohji couldn't resist placing a gentle hand on his hair. Since Omi had been blinded, Yohji found that physical comfort was more effective than anything else in helping him stay connected with what was happening around him. He rubbed the fair strands between his fingers. "What's really bothering you, kiddo?"

"All of it, Yohji-kun."

Yohji kept up the caress, and waited for Omi to explain. It took a minute or two, but then Omi sighed. "We've been fools, you know. All of us as blind as me."

"And how's that?"

"What we've been doing. Kidding ourselves we could destroy Estet, the four of us. If my...father...couldn't, with all his resources, how can we? And who am I to tell Ran that killing the man who murdered his sister has to be put off because we might possibly make the tiniest dent in Estet's capabilities? He's right, killing Tennchi will do as much good as anything else we've done."

Yohji was confused. "So you think we should just kill him?"

Omi looked up and carefully brushed Yohji's hand aside. "As a strategist, I say no. This is the first time we've got a really big fish in our grasp, someone who is connected to so many things that Estet is doing and planning. Tracking him will lead us to others, and by destroying the whole of his team together, I think it will hurt Estet. I'd be lying if I thought it would destroy it. But as a friend, I can understand Ran's need."

"But as a friend and a strategist you're trying to make sure his need for revenge doesn't compromise what we really need to do?"

"I just think rushing into this could be a really big mistake and he's not giving us time to think. It's Takatori Reiji all over again."

Yohji nodded. It was exactly the same, although that time, Ran's need for vengeance dovetailed with Persia's own desires, and in the end, it did no real harm. "We need to plan this. Don't let him push you, Omi."

"Oh, I won't. But he'll hate me for it, and Estet will still be there and what is any of it worth, Yohji?" Omi said bitterly. "Takatori Shuuichi formed Kritiker to attack his brother's activities, or so we were told, but now I find out that it was all a personal vendetta. We kept Weiss going to destroy Estet, but Ran sees it as nothing more than his way of assuaging his own grief. How can I stand in his way when my father was no better?"

Yohji put his hand back on Omi's head. "Omi, this isn't about your father. Ran can't make us puppets any more than Persia did. Persia was wrong, Ran is wrong. If killing Tennchi is the right thing to do, we should do it. If not, then Ran shouldn't push." He patted Omi's shoulder. "Killing him won't bring Aya back."

Omi turned blind, blue eyes on him. "And what happens when he kills Tennchi and he destroys Estet and he realises that Aya-chan and his parents are still dead and he still aches inside? What will he do then, Yohji-kun? Will he turn on us? Will he kill himself?" His bottom lip trembled ever so slightly. "I feel like there's a hole in Ran's heart too big for any of us to fill. That's what's upsetting me. Not him yelling. It's knowing that no matter what we do, that emptiness will never disappear. "

Yohji draped an arm over Omi and pulled him into a hug. "I know," he said softly. "I feel like that all the time. You feel helpless and angry and...hopeless," he added. "But then I tell myself, we're all he's got, and he's all we've got, and somehow we've survived all the shit that life's thrown at us. We're all young, Omi. So many years ahead of us, if we're careful. Maybe with time...and luck...."

"Which we've had so much of," Ken said sarcastically, startling them. He rolled over to the sink and poured a glass of water, bringing the glass and the pills over for Omi. "Here," he said, taking Omi's hand and putting the aspirin in his palm. He waited until Omi had taken the dose before speaking. "Omi's right. We're never going to beat Estet."

"Ken-kun," Omi protested tiredly.

"But you know what, Omi, I don't care, because I figure we can't possibly be the only people on the planet who know about these guys, and I bet there are people all over the world sitting around like us and talking about how to beat them. It's a war, and wars are tough. But we have to fight them, and if that's what I'm meant to do with my life, then okay. It's not like I'm gonna suddenly be playing David Beckham any time soon, is it?"

Yohji protested. "Ken, that's a shitty reason to do this."

"No, Yohji, it's the best reason. Because I can make a difference fighting Estet, and there's nothing else I can do that's as important. What am I gonna do? Get married? Have kids? Become a salary man or a coach? Like this?" he said bitterly, gesturing at his body. "No, I figure we got chosen because this is what we're good at. We just can't give up when it's tough, that's all. And Omi? Ran's being an ass."

"He's sick, Ken," Yohji said mildly.

"He's still being an ass. He's part of a team and that means sometimes things don't go the way you want. You've been Weiss a lot longer than him and you've given up as much or more. Don't you let him tell you different or try and make you feel like you don't count."

"He doesn't, Ken-kun. He...he just...."

"Is being an ass," Yohji said, sighing. "Omi, we should do what's best for our primary aim, which is damaging Estet, even if we can't defeat them. Tennchi will be dead at the end of it, one way or another, and that will have to be good enough for Ran."

"It's not like I want the man to live," Omi said tartly. "I just want to take as many of his friends down with him as we can when we get rid of him."

"Exactly," Yohji said. "Anyway, Ran's injured and I sure as hell am not going after Tennchi on my own, and Schuldig's too damn smart to even think about it, so we've got a few weeks until Ran's arm heals. You guys can come up with a plan in that time, can't you?"

"Of course," Omi said, almost as if he was affronted that there was any possible doubt. "Now we know he's at that hospital, we can string together some leads we were looking at. He was the key we were missing, actually."

"So some good came out of that mission?"

"Some. Not as much as we hoped, but every cloud, yes?"

Now Omi was smiling again, something Yohji far preferred to his tears. "Okay. Let's eat, and then you two can get to work."

"Us? What about you?"

"Oh, I have to go and hone my perfect body some more. It's my main asset, after all."

"Yoh-ji," Ken said, in a long-suffering voice that was part of the routine they had developed over so many years together. It felt comfortable. Like home.

 

---

Honing the perfect body had to wait for the extension to lunch that happened when Schuldig wandered in just as they were finishing up. The German was slightly miffed, or so he claimed, that they hadn't called him to eat, but Yohji was well aware that Schuldig had kept out of the way while the three Weiss had talked and eased the tension a little. Omi mentioned Ken's theory about there being cells of resistance to Estet all over the world, and Schuldig had blinked. "I didn't realise you didn't know that," he said, puzzled. "Of course there are. They're not doing a lot of good, though, or they weren't."

Omi had got strangely thoughtful after that.

Schuldig announced that he was going to go for a walk if it killed him, but had let Omi lecture him about not taking any risks or drawing attention to himself with what, for Schuldig, seemed admirable patience. He'd given Yohji a considering look before heading out the door, but what it had meant, exactly, Yohji wasn't sure.

What he was sure of was that he wanted to work the chill and lingering ache out of his bones with a workout, hoping the exercise might burn out the weariness he'd felt all day. Ken had warned him the hypothermia would take a few days to fully recover from, and that was even without factoring in the bruising and muscle wrenching he'd sustained in the fall to the river. But with him and Schuldig being the only active and reasonably fit members of the team, it wouldn't do for him to loll about in bed. Come to think about it, lolling was something he hardly ever did any more. He'd given that up around the time he'd stopped having a sex life. Oh, how the mighty are fallen, he thought ruefully.

He had one foot on the first stair up to the second floor when he heard a thump and the distinctive tinkle of breaking glass. Ran's room. He dashed the short distance to the open door of Ran's bedroom and pulled up short as he saw Ran crouched on the floor. "Are you hurt?" he asked, walking over more sedately and crouching down across from his friend. On the floor was a photo in a frame – it was the glass which had shattered.

"It's broken," Ran murmured, not looking at him, staring at the mess.

It had been nearly two years since Yohji had seen this picture. It was an old one – Ran and Aya on her fifteenth birthday. It was literally the only photo Ran had of her or any of his family, and if it hadn't been that this one had been recovered from Aya's rooms after her death, Ran wouldn't even have this. It was one of the only personal items that had survived the explosion of his parents' house, and the shabby picture was probably Ran's most precious possession. He'd put it away after he'd got out of the hospital and they had moved into this house. Yohji had assumed it was simply too painful for him to look at it. "I broke it," Ran said, finally looking at Yohji, blinking.

Yohji reached out to touch his face, but Ran flinched, so he dropped his hand. "It's all right, love. We'll fix it."

Ran blinked again, and turned his head away. Yohji sat back on his haunches, looking at his lover. Ran was, to put it frankly, a mess. The normally fanatically neat man was dishevelled, his hair in a lopsided untidy braid that was all a man with only one good hand could manage. His shirt was misbuttoned, and he hadn't shaved, two days' sparse red stubble speckling his skin. Worse than all that for Yohji was the sorrow in Ran's eyes. "You want me to fix your hair?" Yohji asked gently.

Ran shook his head, and got slowly to his feet. Yohji picked up the broken picture frame with care and also got to his feet. "You upset Omi," he said mildly. Ran wouldn't look at him, turning away to stare at the bookcases. "Ran, you can't treat him like his views don't matter."

"Omi understands the situation," Ran mumbled.

"Better than you, I think. Ran, look at me."

"Go away, Yohji. Leave the picture."

Yohji grasped one thin shoulder and pulled Ran around. "Don't do this."

He almost didn't see Ran move, but suddenly his hand was being yanked away and he was shoved hard against the wall with an iron hand in the middle of his chest. "Don't touch me."

"Don't touch you? Since when?"

"Since I told you not to, Yohji. Leave me alone. I have to do this on my own, and I don't need your help or your permission." He put his hand out for the broken frame. Yohji noticed it was shaking. He gave him the picture and Ran laid it on the desk reverently.

"You need our help and we need you, Ran. When did Weiss become a one man unit?"

"When you invited a Schwarz into it without consulting anyone else," Ran said, biting each word off precisely. "If you won't help me do what I've vowed to do, then I'll do it myself."

"And the rest of it?" Yohji asked, not listening so much to Ran's harsh words as watching the bleakness in his eyes, his expression failing to convey the cold anger of his tone. "You want to be alone?"

"That's all I want. Leave."

"I don't believe you," Yohji said, stretching his hand out, only to have it knocked it away again. "Have you taken those painkillers yet?"

"No and I won't be."

"For fuck's sake, Ran! Broken bones hurt like hell and you've just had a dislocated shoulder! What's the point of not taking them?"

"The point, Kudoh, is that I don't like being taken advantage of when I'm drugged," Ran said bitterly, his eyes flashing with true anger now. "I need to stay sharp. Our enemies are all around us."

"Yeah, sure they are," Yohji said wearily, knowing there was no reasoning with Ran when he was like this. He'd try again later. "Why did you get that photo out anyway?"

"None of your business. Leave me alone."

The guy should have that phrase on tape, the number of times he'd said it in Yohji's acquaintance with him. "Okay. But if you need me, you know where I am." He reached out again and touched Ran's cheek. "Take the pills, babe. No one's after you here."

Ran turned his head, dismissing the gesture and Yohji's words. Yohji sighed. "Stubborn fucking bastard. I'm going up to the gym. You go back to bed."

"I don't need you to tell me what to do!" Ran almost shouted.

"No. You don't." Yohji pulled himself away from the wall and Ran backed up. "But when you decide what you do need, I'll be there."

The bedroom door was slammed behind him as he left, which he thought was unnecessary, but it was clear Ran was in an unnecessary gesture kind of mood. It didn't, Yohji thought, take a genius to work out that Ran, feeling let down, maybe even betrayed by his team mates, would be looking for consolation in the memory of his beloved sister. It just seemed so incredibly sad to Yohji that Ran's shattering grief was somehow easier to bear than his isolation. "Man, you're so fucked up," Yohji said to the closed door.

 

---

Things only improved, in Schuldig's estimation, in that there was no more shouting. However, Fujimiya's frigid silence, the cold looks directed at Yohji, and the pretence that he, Schuldig, didn't even exist, were, after first amusing him somewhat, becoming a real pain in the arse. He could understand it if it was because of what he'd done to Fujimiya in the past, but to have it because of something he hadn't been responsible for in the slightest, galled Schuldig, and he had to bite back on the childish instinct to stick his tongue out at the redhead just to get his attention. After a week of it, the less childish instinct to get inside that head and do some serious damage was a serious temptation, and only the knowledge that Yohji would (a) kill him and (b) never forgive him, stopped him giving in to it.

Schuldig had finally resorted to hoping Fujimiya would fall down the stairs and break his neck. It was a distinct possibility – the man was looking ragged and tired, and would have been a figure for pity if Schuldig were prone to such things, which he was not, and liked Fujimiya in the slightest, which he did not. However, he didn't care for the effect it was having on Omi and Yohji. Omi was too preoccupied even to have many foreign language chats, something the youngster had been most insistent on for weeks. Schuldig, perversely, felt he needed to push now, and took to only answering the kid in German when they were alone. It startled Omi at first, but as Schuldig expected, he rose to the challenge. His fluency was improving, but he would never be completely accentless. It hardly mattered so long as Schuldig could coach him into not sounding Japanese. Sounding 'foreign' was fine.

Yohji was less easy to distract. The guy needed a hobby, Schuldig thought, and working out in the gym didn't count. "Why don't you have any damn CDs?" Schuldig bitched, coming into the bedroom one evening to find Yohji lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "No normal person lives without music."

Yohji only spared him a momentary glance. "I had a lot of CDs but they were all lost when Kritiker was taken down. Now I just use an MP3 player. Ken finds me the songs."

"That bitty thing? I thought it was a radio." Schuldig recalled having seen Yohji holding a tiny white box with earphones connected to it. "But don't you like your music over there?" Schuldig liked to be surrounded by sound. This house was too quiet, especially now.

Yohji shrugged, still staring at the ceiling. "Sure. But rebuilding a collection just to lose it all again seems like more hassle than it's worth. It was bad enough finding clothes I liked."

"You lost your clothes?"

"We lost everything but what we were wearing when we got to hospital, and a couple of things Manx put in safe storage for us while we were recovering, like Ran's sword. Oh, and what Aya-chan had in her room." Yohji's voice was dull, as if what he was describing was of no consequence. Schuldig was inclined to put it down to Yohji having had another futile encounter with his sullen lover. He could have confirmed this, of course, by peeking inside Yohji's thoughts, but he'd promised himself not to do that without permission. He'd worked hard to build up a little trust – he wasn't going to blow it just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Well, that sucks and all that, but that doesn't explain why you don't replace the CDs. You bought more clothes."

Yohji finally turned his head to look at Schuldig, who had flopped down onto his sleeping pad. "Clothes are just...things. Music has a life, it means something to me. To lose something I'd put together with care all over again would hurt too much."

Schuldig blinked at the quiet words. "They're just bits of plastic, Yohji. Expensive bits of plastic, I'll admit...."

"But it's not that. It's the experience of finding them, choosing them, deciding what to have and not have. The pleasure of the accidental discovery, the gifts from friends...." He smiled lopsidedly. "Aw, crap, listen to me bullshit on."

Schuldig didn't think it was bullshit. He just found it sad that Yohji would willingly shoulder all the other pain in his life because of the benefit it brought to others, but deny himself the real pleasure of music because its loss only pained him. "When this is all over...will you start a collection then?"

"Maybe."

"So, like what?"

"Eh?"

"What kind of music do you like?" Schuldig asked patiently.

"Oh, everything. Anything that's got a good tune, a nice rhythm, Jazz, pop – classical, I like a lot of light classics. Ran likes opera but I don't care for a lot of that. What about you?"

Schuldig grinned. "Noisy heavy metal crap," he announced cheerfully, using Crawford's term for the stuff he'd heard emanating from Schuldig's room.

Yohji winced. "Then don't play it around me, for fuck's sake. Or Ran. Gods. How can you dance to shit like that?"

"I can dance to anything, Kudoh, my feet have wings."

Yohji laughed. "Now that, I'd pay money to see."

"Deal. You get the music and you can watch my moves."

But Yohji's smile faded. "Yeah. Maybe later. You know, when this is all over, okay?"

Schuldig bit his tongue to stop himself asking which 'this' Yohji meant, and that any 'this' he could mean, would probably last longer than Schuldig had years left. "Sure," he said casually. "You got any ideas how to solve this problem with Red?"

"He's got a name, Schuldig. It's Ran. Not 'Red'."

"Whatever, Yohji. I think the situation is a little more serious than what I call him."

"Maybe, but I'm sick of the two of you insulting each other through me. Neither one of you is being fair to the other."

"Yeah, whatever, Kudoh," Schuldig snapped. "You didn't answer my question. What are you going to do about him and this thing with Tennchi?"

Yohji put his arm across his eyes. "I dunno. Omi will have to talk to him. He said he'd call a team meeting soon and tell us what he found out about Tennchi and the rest of it. I'm just muscle, nobody tells me a damn thing any more."

"Poor widdle Kudoh. If only you had a brain."

Yohji uncovered his eyes and smirked at Schuldig. "If only you had a heart, Schuldig. But we're not in Kansas any more."

"Yohji, how is it that you don't know basic facts about Western culture, but you know the Wizard of Oz?"

Yohji smiled brightly. "Because I'm a friend of Dorothy?"

Disgusted, Schuldig threw his pillow at him.

 

---

It was two days later that Omi mentioned to Schuldig that he wanted to speak to them all after lunch. The meal itself was of a piece with the others that week, with no one talking much, and the atmosphere decidedly frosty. At least Omi didn't make the mistake he had, the first supper after Fujimiya was out of bed, cooking steak which the redhead simply couldn't cut up. A sensible man would have let Yohji do as he offered and cut it up. Not being sensible in the least that Schuldig could see, Ran had struggled with the meat, eaten the vegetables and then stormed off from the table, the uneaten steak sitting forlornly on the plate, a reproach to them all. Today, Omi had made a stir-fry, which a sensible person could have easily eaten using a fork. For reasons that utterly escaped Schuldig, Fujimiya insisted on using chopsticks in his unfavoured hand. Schuldig was getting tired of his masochism. Yohji refused to talk about it.

"Ran-kun, Yohji-kun," Omi said as they finished eating. "I'm calling a team meeting. I have things Ken and I have found to discuss with you."

Fujimiya glanced at Schuldig. "With him too?"

"Why not with him, Ran?" Yohji asked. "It's a team meeting."

He grunted and took his dirty plate to the sink. The others cleared the rest of the table and once that was done, Ken produced the folders of information they'd prepared, and Omi briefed them about the little they had found out about Tennchi and his operations. The man had a code name, "marabou", which Weiss had encountered before in intercepted communications, but to which they had never been able to tie an identity. It was clear that Tennchi was intimately linked to the present leadership.

"Which is why I say we take him out as soon as possible."

"Abyssinian, I understand your feelings...."

"Somehow, I don't think you can, Bombay," Fujimiya said flatly.

Omi glared at him. "Be that as it may, killing Tennchi right now would minimize the damage we could cause. In any event, it's clear that until we can destroy the marker in your head, you cannot be involved in any such mission."

You could practically see the fur go upright on Fujimiya's neck. "We've only got his word for it that this 'marker' even exists." He stood up and filled the kettle.

"Excuse me?" Schuldig said, bristling automatically.

"You heard me. We only have your word for it, and unless I had more proof of its existence, I think we should consider the other ways Tennchi could have found out we were there," Fujimiya said, leaning against the counter, his good arm crossed over the sling, his long bangs obscuring his eyes, but his voice making his emotion plain.

"Oh, like maybe some idiot going off on a gung-ho quest on his own and leaving his partner in the lurch? You mean like that way?" Schuldig said. Yohji glared at him in a silent invitation to shut up.

"I was thinking more of someone who used to be in Estet's pocket maybe wanting to get back in their good graces and tipping them off."

"Ran-kun," Omi protested, but Fujimiya continued.

"Someone, let's say, who used to be Schwarz? That's a lot more likely than this magical 'marker'." Fujimiya's head came up in a defiant stance, his eyes boring into Schuldig's.

Of course Omi had to try and break up the fight. "Abyssinian, Schuldig...."

"Is Schwarz. Not Weiss."

Yohji's expression tightened and he stared at Schuldig, no doubt waiting for the explosion. Schuldig just smiled sweetly and stood up. "Ach, Weiss, Schwarz, who cares – cats and assassins are grey at night, Orchidee. You have fun, Kinder." He waved with a cheeriness he did not feel, and carefully did not slam the front door.

 

---

Yohji badly wanted to kick something. "Was that entirely necessary, Ran?"

Ran refused to look at him directly. "I was just pointing out some facts which you are apparently choosing to ignore, since you all seem so determined to make decisions based on that ignorance."

"Oh, like what? Keeping you away from Tennchi? That's for your own damn good, you stubborn ass!"

"No, like inviting him to be Weiss. You had no right to ask him to stay," Ran said coldly, now staring at Yohji.

"Excuse me, Ran," Omi said with equal coldness, "Yohji-kun is every bit as entitled to invite Schuldig to stay as any of us. As it happens, I agree with his actions."

"So do I," Ken said quietly.

Ran's head snapped around. "You? You were the one who wanted him to go."

"I changed my mind the night he saved your life, Ran." Ken held Ran's gaze easily.

"Why you are so sure I'm wrong about him possibly tipping Estet off, Yohji? It seems to me your feelings for Schuldig are obscuring your common sense."

"My...?" Yohji's voice almost squeaked in shock. "Are you fucking insane? No, don't answer that, you are obviously cracked."

"Ran-kun," Omi said. When Ran refused to answer, he said his name again.

"Yes, Omi?"

"You're out of line and you know it. If you have a problem with Schuldig or the plans, there are ways of bringing it up without tearing the meeting apart. If we have no discipline as a group, we have no team, whether Schuldig is here or not."

Now, an angry Omi was a scary thing, but Ran was clearly too caught up in his own obsession to care. "If he's a threat to our stability then he should leave."

"You're the only one who has a problem with him," Ken said calmly. "Why don't you leave?"

Yohji froze, and the shock on Omi's face was almost – but not quite – mirrored on Ran's own. "Perhaps I will," Ran said finally, moving forward with the clear intent of going.

Yohji leapt up and grabbed his arm. "Will you calm down for fuck's sake? Ken didn't mean you to go, he's just pointing out you're being a dick."

Ran looked down at his hand, and then at him. The supercilious effect was somewhat ruined by his bloodshot eyes and the shadows under them. "Fine." He clearly expected Yohji to unhand him.

"Abyssinian, sit down."

Uh oh. Omi had gone past angry and was now coldly, completely furious. A lesser man would have quailed, but Ran remained unmoved. "No, I don't think I will."

He pulled himself out of Yohji's grip and moved quickly out of the room. "Ran!" Yohji yelled. "Get back in here!"

"Leave it, Yohji," Ken said. He looked at the two of them. "I think we better have that meeting and decide how the hell we're going to solve this. Because if we don't – it's the end of Weiss."

 

---

Schuldig had left the house with no clear objective other than to absent himself from Fujimiya's animus, but quickly realised that he was in a city he didn't know, and with no idea of who was looking for him. It had been many years since he had not been able to rely on the back up of a competent team when he was exposed to danger (the last two years excepted, naturally), and he was more nervous than he could have predicted. His previous excursion to a nearby park hadn't really given him an orientation for the area, and it was now too dark and cold to wander about outside. He needed to stop walking aimlessly.

He could have hit a bar and got rat-arsed, but that was a singularly bad idea in his vulnerable position even though, God, he needed a drink. He'd been wound so tight, and he needed to find some release or he would commit murder. Not that he had any objection to that, but the consequences would be disastrous. He was dimly becoming aware that miraculously, he had found a home again, after having given up hope, but it was already being threatened by Fujimiya's distrust and anger. Killing the man would not, he was forced reluctantly to admit, make things any easier.

He found a café and ordered an extravagantly rich beverage of coffee, cream and chocolate, and some cake as well, but hardly tasted either as he gnawed over the situation. He knew what Crawford would say. 'Get the hell out, Schuldig. You don't need them, you only need your powers and your funds and you've got both.' But Brad had been as self-deluded as any of them. He'd not been able to live without human affection and neither could Schuldig. Besides – to leave Weiss was to expose himself in a new world order, and to be utterly alone was the same as being dead, literally and figuratively.

The cafe was crowded, and the press of strangers' thoughts brushing against his mind was a familiar, if long absent sensation. He didn't welcome it. Once, he had revelled in the thoughts of the weak and powerless, but now, he didn't want that knowledge. If he'd brought his controller with him, he could have tuned them out, but he'd left the thing in the study desk. He didn't need it for day-to-day stuff and if he did, he knew where it was. He wished he had it now.

He listlessly poked the almond and cream covered confection in front of him. There had to be a solution to this problem which didn't involve killing Fujimiya or getting inside his thoughts and doing a thorough rebuild, a task Schuldig shuddered to even contemplate. It would never work anyway – it was okay for a one off thing, when forcing an unwilling person to do one's bidding, but the others would notice the changes in Fujimiya's behaviour and personality, and know who was responsible. Anyway, damned if he'd make the little prick like him that way.

When the waitress came to take his plate and ask if he wanted more coffee, he was startled to find he'd been sitting there for nearly an hour. Worse than that, he had been so lost in thought, anyone could have come up and taken him down. Growling, he threw money down on top of the bill and stalked out. He was putting himself at needless risk. The only solution, unpalatable as it seemed, was to return to the house and brazen it out. With any luck, the other three Weiss had beaten a little sense into the red-haired Wichser.

He found a store that sold booze and bought two bottles of the best scotch available. He looked longingly at the cigarettes, but firmly resisted, knowing it was best not to revive that addiction. If he was taken prisoner again, it was one more thing they could torture him with. Besides, it would be unkind to Yohji, who still struggled occasionally with his own former addiction to the evil weed.

The house was in darkness, but a little probe into the general aura of the residents' thoughts told him that no one was asleep, and that emotions were still turbulent. He carefully didn't enquire more than that. He made his way into the living room, turned on the light, and found he was not alone. Yohji was lying on the couch, his arm over his eyes in a posture which Schuldig was coming to realise meant he was nearing the end of his ability to deal with things. "So, how many bodies?" Schuldig said lightly. He didn't sit. He wasn't sure of his welcome.

"None, but not for want of trying." Yohji slowly sat up, swung his long legs around and faced Schuldig. "Where did you go?"

"Just out. Had coffee." Yohji grunted. "Uh, do you want me to sleep down here tonight?"

Yohji seemed startled by the question. "Why?"

"I thought you might be mad at me."

"I guess I could live without you picking stupid fights with Ran, you know. But strange as it may seem, you're the only person I'm not cranky with right now."

Schuldig finally sat down. "What happened?"

Yohji shrugged. "Yelling. Lots of yelling. Then there was the sulking. Right now, Omi's pissed with Ken, who's pissed with me and Ran, and Ran is pissed with all of us."

"Do I want to know why the other two are angry?"

"Nah. It won't last. It's overprotectiveness crossed with hurt pride and a lot of frustration. What you got there?" He pointed at the carrier bag Schuldig was carrying.

"Come upstairs and I'll show you." Yohji arched an elegant eyebrow in a lascivious expression. "Oh please, Kudoh. It's just some scotch."

Yohji turned serious immediately. "I thought I told you...."

"Ja, no booze in the house. I know, although you never explained why. But, Gott, Yohji! I can't go to the pub in case Estet are looking for me, and if I can't have a drink or a joint or something, I may do something you regret!"

Yohji held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. The thing's done. But take it upstairs, and let's keep the noise down. The last thing I want is Omi on my case again."

Schuldig refrained from asking what Yohji could have done to annoy Omi, and decided it probably didn't matter. They were all strung tight, and Omi was almost as bad as Fujimiya. Schuldig was of the opinion they all needed to get laid, and thought that maybe he should take the kids to a Soapland. Surely Hidaka must be able to enjoy something.

"What evil twisted plan are you hatching?" Yohji asked as he closed the bedroom door behind them.

"Oh, just planning to get Omi and Ken to have sex."

Yohji choked. "What is it with you and the nasty little mind pictures, Schuldig? For your information, I plan to keep those two virgins for as long as possible. It's simpler that way."

Schuldig thought about some of the things Omi had let slip during some of their chats and decided it would not brighten Yohji's day to have his fond illusions shattered. "Maybe they feel differently."

"Maybe they do, but it's a moot point right now. So, you're just going to sit there and drink yourself unconscious?"

"Care to join me?" Yohji hesitated. "Kudoh, do you have a problem with alcoholism? Because if you do, I'll take it...."

"No, no – it's not that, it's just been a long time since I had a drink and I'm wondering if it's a good idea."

Schuldig left the bag untouched. "Care to explain this house rule to me? Who's the alcoholic?"

"None of us. All of us, potentially. We...." Yohji's chin came up. "One evening, a couple of months after we were all out of hospital, Omi had a doctor's appointment. I took him up to the hospital, Ran went shopping. We were only gone a couple of hours, max. When we came back, Ken was completely drunk, sitting at the kitchen table with his gun. He was trying to get up the courage to use it on himself. He had the note written and everything."

"Mein Gott," Schuldig said softly.

"He was depressed anyway but the alcohol made it worse. We sobered him up and he made us promise to hide the gun and the alcohol. Omi made him go to the doctor and get himself on anti-depressants, which helped. But it was Ran who said it could have been any of us – the gods know I've been in that place myself – and that it was just kinder to everyone not to have the temptation. He also said we should try to never leave anyone alone for too long, and we don't. Too many demons and we never know when they'll attack."

"And Fujimiya's demons are chewing his leg off right now, I guess." Schuldig pulled out one of the Scotch bottles and handed it to Yohji.

"You know, that's the first sympathetic thing you've said about him. You're not expecting me to drink all this, are you?" he asked, holding the bottle up.

Schuldig waved his hand. "So go find yourself a glass. I'm not being sympathetic, I'm just stating facts. He's not handling things intelligently and for that I have no sympathy. Biting the hand trying to help you isn't the action of a smart man, and whatever I think of him, he's apparently not stupid."

"No, he's not. Wait, I'll fetch a couple of glasses."

He was gone just a couple of minutes, but in that time Schuldig uncorked the bottle he was holding and gave the expensive fluid inside an appreciative sniff. When he had just wanted to get high, he had done recreational drugs quite happily for the effect they had on him, but he actually liked Scotch, and was determined to enjoy this.

"Sure, drink straight out of the bottle, that's really classy," Yohji said grinning, shutting the door again. He flopped down on the floor next to Schuldig's sleeping pad and set out two glasses, tossing Schuldig a bag of chips. "For the munchies."

"Good thinking," Schuldig said approvingly, laying the food aside. He poured out two large drinks, and handed one to Yohji. "Hope you're not one of these perverts who insists on water and ice."

"No, I'm not one of those kind of perverts," Yohji said, accepting the drink. "We should toast to something, but I can't think of anything cheerful. 'Death to Estet' is kinda tedious."

"Nah, let's not do that. Toast to the death of sobriety instead. You need to loosen up, Yohji. Were you always this serious? I don't remember." He hadn't, in truth, formed much of an opinion of Yohji before the Schreiend thing, and of course, the man was so torn up by the mind fuck that was Neu, it was impossible to know what he would have been like before.

 

"Yeah, I can understand that," Yohji said dryly, saluting Schuldig briefly with his drink. "Seeing how every time I saw you, you were trying to kill me or I was trying to kill you."

"Professional hazards, Yohji. You know that."

"I'm not holding a grudge, Schuldig. Just saying that we weren't exactly in a position to get to know each other."

Schuldig sipped the whisky, and enjoyed the slow, smoky burn. It had been too long. "Well, so," he said lazily, leaning back against the wall, a pillow behind his back. "Tell me about yourself."

"Why don't you just pull it out of my head? You could." Yohji sprawled on the floor, leaning on one elbow. His tone was mild, and Schuldig couldn't detect any animosity either in his voice or the general flavour of his mental activity.

"Because I don't want to, and you don't want me to. Oddly enough, I don't always enjoy being privileged with other people's thoughts."

Yohji took another sip of his drink. He'd switched all the lights off in the room except the little lamp at his bedside, so he was a study in shadow and golden highlights, the liquid in his glass a honeyed counterpoint to the hair curling at his shoulders, his lips moistened a little with the Scotch and catching the light. He looked like a...well, like a damn buffet spread out for Schuldig's pleasure, actually, and Schuldig's body couldn't help but respond. He firmly wrenched his mind off that idea and realised Yohji was speaking.

"...thought you liked reading people's minds?"

Schuldig covered his distraction smoothly. "Not all the time. Some people taste like honey in your head." Like you, he thought. "Some of them are like having sandpaper scratched over your brain." Like your lover.

"Oh." Yohji considered as he swirled the scotch in his glass. "I don't know much about how this telepathy works. I don't know how you can pick and choose like that, or how you can stop people just hitting you with their thoughts."

"It comes with training, and I have pretty good shields. Come to think of it, it's pretty weird the way you can break through those." Schuldig regarded Yohji thoughtfully. "The only other people who could do that were those with paranormal powers, like Crawford and Nagi."

"So you mean I've got powers too?" Yohji just seemed interested, not worried.

"Not that I can tell. Like I said, you're very, very slightly empathic, but no more so than a lot of other 'people' people." He made the quote marks with his fingers. "In your case, it's probably more of a curse than a gift. You are more sensitive to other people's feelings and when they hurt, you hurt."

"Oh." Yohji seemed disappointed. He poured himself another generous slug, and gestured to Schuldig with the bottle. Schuldig was surprised to find his own glass was empty, and accepted the refill. "So how do I...break your shields?"

"Not break – break through. If you want to 'talk' to me, you pretty much can do so at will unless I'm actively guarding against it, which you really shouldn't be able to do without me setting up a link between us."

"A link?" Yohji's interest perked up. "Like a telephone line?"

"Something like that," Schuldig said, amused at the unGifted man's metaphor. "Schwarz had a telepathic link between the four of us. All any of us had to do was 'raise' our mental voice and we would be heard by whoever we were contacting. I'd do the same for Weiss, if it was wanted." His voice grew colder. "Clearly, it won't be."

"I can't see Ran allowing it, no," Yohji said softly. "Omi and Ken would probably think it was really neat." He poured himself another drink. Schuldig blinked – that second glass had disappeared pretty fast.

"I can't see anything more likely to fuel his paranoia than creating a network without him."

Yohji sighed. "I know. I'm sorry about all this, Schu."

Schuldig blinked again, as much at the apology as the nickname. "What on earth for?"

"For... twisting your arm, I guess. Maybe you should have gone, for your own good."

Schuldig poured himself nearly a glass full of whisky. "Make your fucking mind up, Kudoh. Stay, don't stay. I'm not a goddamn toy." He nearly spilled the drink as a hand touched his arm, startling him. "Yohji?"

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop saying that? Just explain. And while you're at it, do you want me to stay or not? I told you – I won't stay where I'm not wanted, not and put up with Fujimiya's crap. Why the hell did you ask me to stay if you thought I should go?" To his surprise, he found he was really angry about this. He swallowed a large mouthful of Scotch, and bit down his emotions. He didn't want a fight with Yohji over this.

Yohji didn't speak, but lay on his side regarding Schuldig with large, sorrowful eyes that were far too beautiful for a man's. Schuldig scowled at the way his thoughts were going and Yohji misinterpreted his expression. "I didn't lie to you," he said hastily. "I meant what I said, I really thought that you should stay for your sake. But after this week...." His voice trailed off. "It's hard," he said finally, softly. "Ran...Ran is so angry, so hurt, and I can't stand seeing it. But to hurt a friend, just to ease that...and I don't think it would work anyway," he finished, almost mumbling.

He suddenly reached for the bottle. Schuldig thought about grabbing it from him, but settled for protesting mildly, "You need to take it easy, Yohji."

Yohji put the bottle back down. "Sorry."

"Will you stop apologising? Scheisse! When did you become responsible for everyone and everything that goes wrong?" Schuldig snapped. "And if you want a fucking drink, have one!" He snatched up the bottle and sloshed some of the whisky into Yohji's abandoned glass.

Yohji just stared at him. "You're angry."

"Oh, you think?" He glared back. "I don't know what's worse – Fujimiya being pissed with me for no good reason, or you taking responsibility for his idiocy, or you somehow trying to fix me as well when you're nothing whatsoever to do with the goddamn problem!" He nudged the glass. "Drink up. I think I've decided I'm going to get drunk after all." Yohji was still looking at him with those painfully sorrowful eyes. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this. I'm sick of it."

"I think we can agree on that at least." Yohji picked up the glass, made a face and knocked almost the entire glass back. He slammed the glass back down. "Yuck."

"Yuck?" Schuldig said, offended. "That's the best whisky money can buy."

"Yeah, but I can taste it. I can't get drunk if I can taste it."

Schuldig thought privately that Yohji wasn't having too much trouble getting inebriated, considering. "Then don't. Do what you want, Yohji. What would you like to do?"

"You keep asking me that."

"You keep not answering. Let's keep it simple. Do you want another drink?"

"Yes."

"Fine." It was duly produced and the glass passed back to Yohji. "Now. Do you want to get drunk?"

"Not particularly, I guess."

"Then don't drink so fast. Now, isn't that simple?" Yohji grinned. "Do you want to talk about Fujimiya?"

"No."

"Good, that makes two of us." Schuldig poured himself more Scotch.

"I just wish I knew how to get through to him."

Schuldig sighed and resisted the temptation to bang his head against the wall. "How long have you known him?"

"Three years ...no, it's nearly four now."

"And he gets like this a lot?"

"Um... define a lot."

"Does everything set him off?"

Yohji gave him a hurt look. "No, of course not. He's not petty." He winced. "Not usually. But he's sick, Schuldig. He's not sleeping, you can see that."

"Yes, because he's not taking the pain medication."

"No! Not just that, dammit! He's having nightmares again...." Yohji appealed to Schuldig's sympathy. "You don't know what it's like for him. I've been there, I've lived through it. I don't know how...." He laughed but there was a bitter edge to it. "I was going to say how he stays sane, but maybe this is what's happening. He's finally losing it. And I just have to watch."

To Schuldig's horror, Yohji's voice cracked with emotion. Schuldig reached out a hand helplessly, but aborted the gesture, grabbing the Scotch bottle again. "I don't think he's going crazy, Yohji." He tried to infuse as much gentleness into his voice as he could manage. What happened to not wanting to talk about him? he thought resignedly.

"Really?"

Oh, the hope in the question was painful. "No, I don't. I do think he's running the risk of a nervous breakdown if he keeps on this way – I'm no expert, you know, but he must be pretty strong. I think he's frustrated and he's tired and he's...." He bit back the word he was about to say. Which was 'jealous'. "He needs a concrete task. Introverts prefer action to words, you must have noticed that."

Why were they talking about Fujimiya? Schuldig wanted to talk about Yohji, but everything kept coming back to the absent man. All he could do was to pour Yohji another drink. He noticed that Yohji's relaxed posture was becoming positively loose. It looked good on him.

The problem was that Schuldig really didn't know Yohji that well, and what he did know was hardly less painful. It made casual chatting difficult. He could just see it. 'So, tell me, how did you feel about that Neu chick?' or 'So, that time we shot you and nearly killed your asses....' Yeah, that would really work. "Have a chip?" he said, for want of anything more positive to say, desperate to get the conversation off something that was so futile.

Yohji seemed to recognise Schuldig's unvoiced desire. He took a handful of chips and ate them daintily, holding them in one hand, and picking them out one by one with the other. Schuldig found himself watching the movement of the pale flakes from hand to lips with fascination, then shook himself mentally. That way madness lay. Or a smack in the jaw. "So, you and Crawford, huh?" Yohji said overcasually.

Schuldig almost grinned. He knew that Yohji wouldn't let that one go. Which was the reason he'd mentioned it in the first place. That, and the fact that it was one way of remembering Brad and talking about him, thinking about a time before they had all been broken and destroyed.... Brad had been so...he had looked so....

A touch brought him out of his thoughts and he startled. "Hey, I'm sorry if it's painful to talk about it." Yohji's hand was on his leg, and he was peering up at Schuldig with concerned eyes.

Schuldig made himself smile, and reached for the bottle again. "It's not. Just the opposite. What do you want to know?"

Yohji grinned, and if it seemed a little forced, it could just have been the light. "Oh, nothing much. Positions, frequency. Who was top, what flavour lube, that kind of thing." Schuldig threw the cork of the whisky bottle at him. After all, it wasn't as if it would be needed again. "Oh, is that a sensitive subject? Were there whips involved? Alsatians?"

"Yohji, we had a fifteen-year-old kid in the house," Schuldig said in a pained voice.

"A fifteen-year-old assassin, Schuldig. Look, there's no way you'll convince me you two weren't into kink."

"Why?" Schuldig was feeling too drunk and mellow to be offended, but he was genuinely curious. "Just because we were Schwarz?"

"Um...I guess...." Oh, this was cute. Yohji was blushing. "We used to ...," he mumbled, then stopped.

"You used to... what? You as in Weiss? Yohji, did you guys sit around discussing my sex life?" Yohji's embarrassment got worse and Schuldig began to giggle. "Oh, that is really priceless," he gasped. "How fucking desperate were you guys?"

"Shut up," Yohji muttered, pinching some more chips and the second bottle of Scotch, even though the first wasn't quite empty. "Anyway, you guys just screamed kinky sex – fuck, Schuldig, Farfarello used to lick knives and wear Jean Paul Gaultier!"

"And that makes the rest of us kinky?" The last of Schuldig's bad mood evaporated as he cackled at Yohji's beguiling, and scarcely credible innocence. "Besides, I wasn't fucking Farfie."

Yohji rolled over and pillowed his head on his arms. "Something I am really grateful to know, Schu," he said. "But you still haven't told me who was on top," he persisted drowsily.

"Are you going to sleep on the floor? Why don't you get up and go to bed?"

"Don' wanna. Too far. Who did who, Schu?" He chuckled to himself. "Hey, it rhymes."

"Yeah, you're a true poet. At least get on the mattress, the floor's hard."

Yohji pouted and heaved himself a few inches across the floor to flop on Schuldig's bed. "Mmmm, yeah, it's softer," he yawned. "You don't look like a uke, but neither did Crawford."

"You're obsessed, you know that? We switched, whoever felt like being top, was. It wasn't important. It was just...." Schuldig's mouth twitched as he remembered. "It was just fun. Brad was fun. You wouldn't think it, but he was. In bed, anyway."

"Weird."

"Oh and Red's not a raving slut when you get him going?"

"You've been reading my mind after all," Yohji said seriously, but ruined it by smirking.

"Well there you go. Just because he looks like the stick up his arse has a stick up his arse doesn't mean anything."

"Schu...."

"Yeah, yeah, don't diss Orchidee. But now you tell me. Who's on top?"

"Not in this lifetime, Schuldig. I like all my body parts right where they are, and I know you well enough that you'd drop that information into a conversation with him if it suited you."

"I could just read your mind."

"I could kick your ass."

Yohji was grinning at him with the amiable cheerfulness of the truly sloshed now. That allowed Schuldig to dare to ask something he'd been curious about. "So, tell me. Is he the best you've ever had?"

"Oh, like I'll tell you that."

"So that means he's not, or you'd tell me." That got him a wobbly glare. "Well?"

"No, he's the best. No question." The certainty was completely honest.

"Really?"

"Why is it so hard to believe?"

"No offence, but he doesn't strike me as a natural, and he can't be that experienced." Yohji shrugged as if to say 'still, that's how it is'. "Is it love? Does that make the difference?"

"Are you taking a survey?"

"No, I just want to know." To his surprise, Yohji heaved himself further up the mattress and flopped next to him. "What the hell are you doing, Kudoh?'

"Getting con...comftble.... Gimme pillow."

Someone was now very, very drunk, Schuldig thought not without a little amusement. "No, piss off. Get your own."

"Is mine, stupid. Share."

"Fuck off.

"Mine." Yohji grabbed the pillow and clutched it to his chest. He pouted at Schuldig. "You're mean. I'd give you my pillow."

Schuldig chuckled at the expression on his face. "You already did, Kätzchen. Take it if it makes you happy."

Yohji did just that, curling around the pillow. Then, apparently realising this meant there was nothing under his head, he suddenly moved and laid his head on Schuldig's thigh. "Do you mind?" Schuldig yelped, not expecting to have Yohji's far too pretty face so close to his treacherous groin.

"Nope," Yohji smirked. "What does 'Kätzchen' mean?"

"It means 'pain in the arse', Kudoh."

Yohji pouted again. "Does not."

"How the hell would you know?"

"I'll ask Omi."

"Oh, and will you tell him under what circumstances I called you that?"

"No, of course not." Fortunately, Yohji was looking at Schuldig, and not Schuldig's crotch, or he would have a lot more to be curious about. "Wanna another drink."

"I think you've had enough, kitten. You can hardly keep your eyes open."

"You're not...," Yohji yawned copiously, "...my mother." Then he blinked. "Kitten?"

"Well, you guys did kinda bring that nickname on yourselves." Seeing Yohji's confusion, he added, "Kitty in the house?"

"Oh. Gods, that's so long ago. I'd forgotten...."

Schuldig regretted mentioning it, as Yohji's expression became sombre. He strove to lighten things up. "And that's all Kätzchen means. It's 'kitten' in German."

"You've got nicknames for all of us, don't you?"

"Just a bad habit. I mean no harm. Not usually," he had to add truthfully.

"Hmmph," Yohji said, rolling a little and almost burying his face in Schuldig's thigh. "Tired."

"Then go to bed."

"Don't wanna move."

Schuldig sighed. "It's okay, you can sleep here, I'll move...."

But Yohji's hand grabbed his knee. "Nah. Lots of room," he said, yawning again.

Now, if Yohji had been sober, Schuldig very much doubted he would have missed the implications of what he was saying and doing. But by Schuldig's reckoning, he'd accounted for most of at least one of the bottles of Scotch on his own. It was very likely that if he stood up, he'd throw up. Schuldig gave in. No one could possibly blame him for just sharing a mattress with Yohji, and if it was a little, private slice of heaven for him to be near such an attractive, kind man after so long an abstinence, no one needed to know.

He pushed all the glassware and bottles aside, so they wouldn't be stepped on in the dark. He could reach the comforter on Yohji's bed with a stretched arm, and he dragged it off, pulling it over the two of them. No pillow for him, but he'd endured far, far worse so he couldn't complain. Yohji seemed already asleep, and didn't even twitch as Schuldig moved him about. The pillow clasped close to him, his face peaceful, he looked like a slightly soiled angel. Schuldig had enough control not to do as he wanted and drop a kiss on one perfect cheek, but he lay facing the other man, drinking in the sight, until the alcohol and sleep took him under the waves of consciousness.

 

---

Even when he was a child, he'd always known when someone was near him as he slept. His mother could wake him simply by standing in his room and waiting for a few seconds.

Therefore it was a cinch that if someone he trusted could wake him that way, the silent observation of someone who hated his guts would be as good as a dinner bell beside his ear. He cracked a bleary eye open and saw Fujimiya standing frozen in the doorway, staring at him. Or rather, staring at the way Yohji's head was snuggled on Schuldig's shoulder, where his warm breath was gusting gently on his neck.

Oops. He started to move Yohji away, so he could get up and ... uh... well, explain was probably the wrong word ... but Fujimiya suddenly turned and disappeared down the corridor.

Well, fuck. What the hell was the man doing, opening Yohji's door like that without knocking? If he'd knocked, Schuldig knew he would have heard. Maybe he was hoping to catch Yohji out, and couldn't handle it when he had.

He supposed he'd better go and see what he could do to limit the damage. Yohji was still out of it, and with any luck, maybe he would never know there'd been a problem. Luck. Huh. Miracle, more like.

He debated whether to shower and get into clean clothes, and then thought Fujimiya would probably see it as some kind of insult, that he'd taken the time. Or he might take mortal offence because Schuldig hadn't changed. Oh the fuck whatever. He marched downstairs to face the music.

The redhead was the only person in the kitchen, staring at the toaster as if it held the secrets of life. Schuldig knew that Ran favoured a traditional Japanese breakfast of rice and soup. He also knew that unless Omi was up to make it for him, there was no way he could manage with his broken arm. "Fujimiya," he said.

The other man's shoulders tensed but he didn't turn around. "What do you want?"

"I thought you ... look, he just fell asleep, okay?"

Stony silence. The toaster popped up but Fujimiya made no move to take the bread out. "Why was he in your bed in the first place?"

"We were drinking and ... he fell asleep there."

"You could have slept in his bed."

"I didn't think he'd like that." Not exactly the truth, but never mind.

Now Fujimiya turned. His jaw muscle was jumping, and his eyes were hooded behind the too-long bangs. "Then you should have made him go back to his own bed."

Schuldig had very few reserves of patience, none at all for this man, and the lordly tone made him want to jab, just a little. "Well, that wouldn't have been very gentlemanly, would it?" Fujimiya's head tipped up, and his eyes met Schuldig's in a hard stare. "After what we did ... together ... it would be just rude to make him leave, yes?"

He'd meant it as a joke, and he would have said so if there had been more than a split second between the end of his sentence and Fujimiya's good hand flying for his face. His vaguely hungover state, the fact he was never good at mornings anyway, and his still slightly debilitated condition after years of captivity meant that his reflexes weren't as fast as they could have been. Fujimiya's fist landed and Schuldig stumbled backwards. "Son of a...." but he didn't get a chance to finish before Fujimiya was on him like the wrath of God, hitting both with healthy hand and his cast-bound arm.

Schuldig was taller than Fujimiya, and normally faster, but he wasn't at his peak. Fujimiya was shorter, fitter, lethally trained, but he was visibly exhausted and obviously injured. In other words, they were probably evenly matched for the first time in their encounters, but Schuldig was suffering a handicap that Fujimiya was not – he wasn't trying to kill his opponent. Not yet, anyway.

He cursed as Fujimiya's foot caught him high on the hip and he grabbed at it, hoping to flip the other man, but Fujimiya was a little too fast. In dodging Schuldig, he made himself stumble, and Schuldig took the chance to get away from the corner into which he'd been backed, a stupid mistake for which Crawford, never mind Abyssinian, would have kicked his ass in times past.

He shoved a chair in Fujimiya's path, and it slowed him, but not enough. Before he could get to the door, Fujimiya had grabbed him and pulled him back, spun him around and landed another couple of solid punches, splitting a cut over Schuldig's eye.

"Will you stop, you fucking moron?" he screamed, blocking a blow from the cast with his own arm, a move which goddamn hurt.

"You. Keep. Away. From. My. Family," Fujimiya gritted out. "Keep your fucking hands off Yohji!"

"Oh, how dog in the manger of you, Liebling," Schuldig said, spitting a gob of bloody saliva at him. "You won't touch him, no one else can?"

"You leave him alone. You leave us alone."

Schuldig gave up trying to not seriously hurt the guy and punched him hard in the chest, just short of a killing blow to the heart. A lesser man would have been knocked flat by it, and it certainly slowed Fujimiya for a second or two but he came back viciously, slamming Schuldig against the wall again. When had Fujimiya become this dirty a fighter? Schuldig vaguely wondered. He'd been crap against Brad, the sword the only real advantage he'd had, but this demonic apparition was quite deadly. Schuldig had every chance of ending up deceased, if he either didn't get out of the trap the room had become, or stop him, and stop him fast.

Well, there was one weapon he hadn't used, but Fujimiya left him with no choice. He grabbed the other man's shoulders and held him off as long as he could so he could use his telepathy to knock him out but just as he did there was a burst of pain in his head and a shout from the doorway. "Schuldig, no!"

The slight distraction meant he let his grip relax, and Fujimiya landed another punch to his jaw. He tried to use his powers again but had to grip his head in agony. "Stop it, Schuldig!"

Ken. Ken in the doorway, holding Schuldig's controller in one hand and a gun in the other. "Back away from Ran now."

"He's the one...!"

"I said now, Schuldig, or I'll shoot." Omi appeared behind him, one hand on Ken's chair, his expression worried. "Ran, get away from him."

To Schuldig's amazement, he did so – but only so he could grab a long carving knife from the knife block on the counter, and lunge at Schuldig. "Scheisse!" Schuldig yelled, dodging a clear attempt to kill him. He tried to blank Fujimiya's mind again but nothing came – Ken had obviously turned his powers off.

He wondered if the other two were just going to watch him be killed, but suddenly a tall figure streaked across the room, throwing himself at Fujimiya and pinning him against the wall. "Schuldig, get out," Yohji yelled at him.

Despite Yohji's words, Schuldig froze, not sure where he stood any more, with the two younger Weiss still watching him grimly, Ken's grip on his gun firm and his aim straight at Schuldig. Fujimiya broke the deadlock. "I want him gone now or he'll be dead by the end of the day," he ordered in clipped, bitter tones.

"You wish," Schuldig sneered. Fujimiya struggled in Yohji's grip, murder in his eyes.

"Schuldig, get out," Yohji said desperately. "Do as he says."

"Leave? Like this, now?"

"Move, Schuldig," Ken said. "Come on, get out."

He stared at them in disbelief. "Are you kidding? He's the one...."

But Omi was there now, touching his arm. "Please, Schuldig. Please come out now."

Omi's blind eyes were pleading, his expression solemn, and Schuldig could argue no more and gave up – but not before he saw Yohji's sad look. "Yohji?"

"I'm sorry, Schuldig."

Schuldig found he could not bring himself to answer as he let Omi tug him out into the foyer. Ken followed them out, but lowered the gun as soon as they were out of sight.

"What happened, Schuldig?" Omi asked quietly.

"That arsehole attacked me. You aren't just throwing me out because of him, are you?"

Ken spoke. "I'm sorry, Schuldig, but it's for the best. He means it – he's been building up to it all week. If you stay, one of you will be killed."

Omi peered up at him earnestly. "We can't take that risk, Schuldig. I'm sorry."

Schuldig shook off Omi's hand on his arm. "Yeah, sure. Do I at least get to put a coat on?"

"Of course," Omi said politely. When Schuldig turned around from fetching the garment off the hook, he found Ken holding a wad of money out to him. "Blood money, Hidaka?"

"Please take it, Schuldig," Ken said. "It's not much but it's all the cash we have between us. It'll tide you over until you can get to the bank."

Schuldig ignored the bills in his hand. "And that's it? Fujimiya throws a hissy fit and I'm out?"

"Please, Schuldig. It's for your sake too," Omi said. "I can't let you hurt him, and I won't allow him to kill you."

"Yeah, I could feel the love when Ken was blasting my head."

"That was an accident, I'm sorry. I was trying to turn you off but I mixed up the buttons," Ken said abashedly. "Here. Please don't use it until you go."

Ken was still nursing the gun, and Schuldig didn't remind him that he could kill him before Ken could get his finger on the trigger. He took the controller from him and put it in his coat pocket. "One more thing, Schuldig. Please remember this number – it's my private cell phone." Omi carefully recited it, and made Schuldig repeat it. "When you get set up, please, call me."

"Why bother?" Schuldig said bitterly, his anger and sense of betrayal a tight lump in his throat.

"Because I'll worry about you. Please? I'm so sorry things worked out this way, but...." Omi shrugged helplessly.

"All right, I'll go."

He turned and walked down the hall. "Schuldig?" Omi said.

Schuldig stopped, then stiffened as Omi hugged him, trapping his arms. "I'm so sorry," he said in a muffled voice. "Es tut mir wirklich leid."

Schuldig freed one arm carefully, and patted Omi tentatively on the head. "Ja, Miez. So am I. Auf Wiedersehn."

Ken was watching them, his expression unreadable, but with no anger or negative emotion that Schuldig could see beyond regret. "You look after him, Hidaka," he said gruffly, then pushed Omi back gently and strode out the door. He didn't look back.

 

---

Yohji threw his boyfriend into a chair and wrenched the knife out of his hand, throwing it across the room. "What. The fuck. Are you doing?"

Ran refused to look at him, let alone answer him, but Yohji had had enough. He had the mother of all hangovers, he'd woken up to the sound of angry shouting, and stumbled downstairs to find his lover trying to kill his friend, and Ken and Omi apparently holding them both under guard. He had no idea what had set Ran off, and right now, he didn't care. "You are an A-grade prick, Ran, you know that?"

"And you're a cheap lay. What did he do? Get you drunk? Use his powers on you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Yohji yelled, thrown off course by this apparent non sequitur.

"You slept with him."

Ran's flat voice was like a knife in the chest. "I ... I didn't...." Had he? Yohji was uneasily, suddenly, assailed by the memory of lounging all over Schuldig, and wondering how Schuldig would taste with whisky on his lips. Of having no memory whatsoever of how he'd ended up sleeping in Schuldig's bed.

"He said you did. He boasted about it. Obviously I mean nothing to you."

Damn that Schuldig and his lying mouth. Yohji shook Ran's unresisting shoulders. From being full of piss and vinegar, all the fight had gone out of him, and he was sitting slumped in the chair, staring at the table. "How do you get from A to Z on that, Ran?"

Ran lifted his head and stared at him with dull eyes. "You slept with him."

"I ... might have," Yohji said honestly. "But it didn't mean anything if I did. It would have just been stress relief."

"Relief from me, you mean. You ran to him and he took you with open arms." Now the dull voice held a sneer. "And didn't he just love it." If Ran had left it there, Yohji might have been able to retrieve things. But he had to add, "Clearly your promises mean nothing to you."

Yohji suddenly snapped, his temper already shortened by the stress of what he'd seen and by his headache. "My promises? When exactly did I promise you anything other than my love and support? Am I supposed to be celibate for the rest of my life?"

"I suppose it's too much to ask you to show any control." Ran's eyes flashed with anger. "You obviously don't have any, since you fell at the first hurdle."

"The first ... you little shit! If I wanted to sleep around, do you think Schuldig is the first opportunity I've had?"

"He was the easiest, obviously. You didn't even need to leave the house."

Angry beyond words, and finally pushed past his limits, Yohji slapped him. The sound of the blow resounded like a gunshot in the quiet room. Ran stared at him with shocked eyes, his cheek reddened but the rest of his face stark white. He stood up slowly, and held his broken arm to his chest.

"Ran...."

"Keep the fuck away from me. You and I are done."

"Ran, don't, I'm sorry," Yohji pleaded, genuinely horrified at what he had done, and uncomfortably aware that he might not be on the side of the angels in this situation.

But Ran didn't stop, only pulling up short because Ken and Omi appeared in the doorway. "Is he gone?" Ran asked.

"Yes. Ran, we need to talk about what happened," Ken said.

Ran waved a dismissive hand in Yohji's general direction. "Ask him. He seems to have all the answers." Then he stalked out, pushing past the other two, and apparently deaf to Omi's request for him to stay.

Ken blocked the doorway, stopping Yohji running after Ran. "Let me out, Ken," Yohji snapped.

"No way. What's going on? Did that fight have something to do with you?" Ken's eyes were hard. "Yohji, two of our team just tried to murder each other. What do you know about it?"

Yohji flung himself back into the room, and into a chair. "When the hell did this turn into pick on Kudoh morning? I need coffee, and I really need a fag."

"I can make coffee," Omi said calmly, "but I think a cigarette is not a good idea. I can smell you've been drinking, so had Schuldig. What happened?" he asked as he prepared the coffee maker and set it running.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Schuldig brought some Scotch back and yes, I know he shouldn't have but, shit, it's not a hanging offence." Yohji ran his fingers through his hair and winced at the state of it. "We talked, got drunk ... that's it. The next thing I know I came downstairs and those two were at it."

"I heard some of what he said, Yohji," Ken said. "Did you sleep with Schuldig?"

"Is that any of your concern, Ken?"

Omi slapped the table, making Yohji jump. "Balinese, we've just lost a valuable team member, and two others are at loggerheads. Any information you have is relevant."

"My private affairs are not 'relevant', Bombay, and don't you pull that tone on me, you damn brat. I can remember when I used to sign your homework off, so you have no business asking about my love life!"

"So you did sleep with him," Omi said, not one whit abashed.

"Sleep, yeah. I woke up in his bed. I can't remember if anything else happened and he was gone when I woke up." The last thing he expected to be doing this morning was discussing sex with Omi. "Look, I have a headache and I need coffee. Please, can this wait until then? "

"Ken, please get the aspirin." Ken immediately departed for the bathroom. Omi poured a tall glass of water. "There's some vitamin B tablets in the cupboard but I can't remember where they are. Find them and take them, drink this too. It'll help."

Faced with 'Doctor' Omi, stronger men would have backed down without demur. Yohji obeyed his instructions meekly, taking the vitamins and the aspirin when Ken returned. The coffee was ready, and Omi poured him a cup, making him some toast without asking.

Omi even graciously waited long enough for the caffeine, the water and the aspirin to have some effect. It was Yohji who finally asked, "Schuldig?"

"He left. I hope he'll get in touch. I won't blame him if he doesn't," Omi said.

"And if Estet recaptures him and picks our location out of his head, I guess we'll have you and Ran to thank for that," Ken said acerbically.

"Shit." Yohji hadn't thought about that at all. He'd just been too worried that Ran would slice Schuldig into teeny little pieces. "There's nothing we can do about that now."

"No," Ken admitted. "All we can do is hope he keeps his head down. But what about you and Ran?"

"There is no me and Ran any more."

"Don't be stupid, Yohji," Ken said. "You had a fight, so what? You've had fights before."

"It's not that, Ken. He obviously doesn't trust me, and while there's no trust, there's nothing. He couldn't trust Schuldig and have him on the team, he doesn't trust me not to sleep around and I don't trust him...."

"Don't trust him to what, Yohji?" Omi asked.

"Not to push me into doing things I don't want to do."

Yohji groaned. His physical headache was slipping away, but his emotional pain was rising by the second. "What am I gonna do?" he asked the others.

"Right now, you need to shower because you stink," Ken said briskly. "Give Ran some time to cool off, and you apologise."

"Me? I didn't do...."

"You want to fix this or not?" Ken demanded. Yohji nodded. "Then you apologise, and then maybe when things are calmer, you can talk to him."

Yohji nodded again. "And Schuldig?"

"Forget about Schuldig. It's over. You guys screwed it up and he's gone. We just have to go on as we did before."

"But ... Omi, we need him."

Omi's expression was hard. "Then you should have thought about that before you got drunk and slept with him, Yohji."

And with those words, Yohji's humiliation – and his despair – was complete.

 

---

The first thing Yohji did when he crawled back in disgrace to his room was to empty the rest of Schuldig's fine whisky down the toilet and dump the bottles in the bin. The rest of the day he spent staring into space, wondering how, exactly, he had lost control of the situation. He was furious with Schuldig. He could easily imagine the German using innuendo to provoke Ran, although whether he'd outright lied to him, remained to be seen. He still had no idea why Schuldig had said anything to his lover – former lover? – but it was irrelevant now, with Ran holed up in his room and Schuldig gone the gods knew where.

Two things kept milling about in his mind. Had he really had sex with Schuldig? And if he had, should he really apologise for it? The unfairness of Ran's accusations seemed at times to him all too obvious, but then he thought about how it still must have hurt his friend, promises of fidelity or not. Ran didn't want him, did that mean no one else could have him? Or did it just mean only Schuldig? And why the hell would Yohji even want to sleep with someone else when he was in love with Ran?

He wasn't sure he did want to sleep with anyone else, any more than he was sure he had. A fellow could look, he could appreciate the long lines of a good-looking man or a woman without it being a betrayal, couldn't he? It wasn't even as if he thought Schuldig was that good looking, not any more, but ... he was nice, when he wanted to be, and funny, and he listened to Yohji and seemed to care ...was it wrong to like his company and to want to be his friend? Was the past always going to taint their futures?

Yohji thought about Ran's decree that they were over, and it terrified him. With anyone else, Ken's advice that they would calm down would have made sense. But Ran wasn't like that. He didn't say things he didn't mean, and he held a grudge forever when it was serious. That this was serious, there was no doubt. Ran saw betrayal as the worst possible crime, one that could never, should never be forgiven. Yohji remembered warning Schuldig about that not that long ago, never guessing how soon his own words would come back to haunt him.

He loved Ran, no matter how big a prick he was being at the moment, and the thought of losing his affection made him feel cold and desperate inside in a way he hadn't felt since Asuka died. One part of him wanted to do anything, say anything, abase himself in whatever way he needed to, to mend the breach. But another part of him, the self-respecting part of him, rebelled at that. Not only would Ran be disgusted, Yohji didn't really believe he should have to crawl like that. He'd let Ran dictate the terms of their relationship, why should he dictate the bounds of what was not part of that?

All day, his emotions see-sawed between anger, misery, self-loathing and pure confusion, until, when Omi tapped diffidently at his door to say supper was ready and asked if he would like some, he was simply too tired and sick at heart to answer yes. Instead, he crawled under the covers of his bed and went to sleep, the solid, dreamless sleep of the utterly miserable.

He felt better the next morning, which actually made things worse since nothing had changed. Omi was still sorrowful, Ken was still being stolid, and Ran was nowhere to be seen. Omi said he hadn't appeared at all the previous day. Yohji knew it wouldn't be anger alone that was keeping Ran from emerging. He knew, and it made him sick to know this, that Ran would be deeply hurt by what happened, and he, Yohji, had played no small part in it. Hurting those he loved ranked top on Yohji's personal list of things he never wanted to do. Ever.

Disgusted with himself, his situation and with life in general, he had to get out of the house or he'd do himself an injury. He told Ken he'd be gone all morning, that he had his cell phone with him and he'd be careful, and then he slipped out into the cold, dry winter morning, not even waiting to have breakfast.

The cold was unwelcome, the chill in his bones his constant companion for over a week, and after masochistically meandering the empty paths of the local park for half an hour, he admitted defeat and headed for a coffee house on its edge. There he ordered a pot of Darjeeling and some cookies, and tried to pretend that life didn't suck from its very core.

He wondered what Schuldig was doing. It was strange how after just a few weeks, the man had wormed his way into their lives. Omi would miss him the most, that was for sure, but even Ken seemed to find plenty to talk to their pet German about, and he himself, well ... it was just amazing how, for most of the time, Schuldig could rub along so well with them. Of course, it was the tiny percentage of the time when the devil was in him that you could never be sure of him. Why the hell had he provoked Ran that way? Didn't he know the most likely outcome was exactly this? Schuldig on the street and Yohji in the doghouse? Yohji had thought Schuldig cared a little for him, was at least concerned for his happiness, and yet he had managed to fuck things up for everyone in the most spectacular way. It was hard not to resent that.

But as he did with Ran, because he loved him, Yohji tried to understand Schuldig because he had come to like the other man, and to pity his lonely situation. Yohji knew what it was like to lose a partner, friends – lovers – and even if he didn't like Schwarz personally, he could understand how their loss affected Schuldig. He and Ran were similar in so many ways, Yohji thought wryly, knowing both men would castrate him for even the suspicion he was thinking it, but it was true, nonetheless. Both had been grievously hurt, and both used the considerable force of their personalities to try and ensure they weren't hurt any more. The problem with that was that they invited new and different pain by doing that.

Both would have been very different people if their lives had not been derailed at a young age. If Ran's parents had not died – been murdered – if his sister had not spent two years in an expensive coma, he would be a far less shielded individual. And if Schuldig had been cut a better break right from the start, and not been groomed and forced into the role of a killer, he would probably have been a teacher. He was a natural at it, so far as Yohji could see. He and Ran were both intellectuals in their own peculiar way – gifted at languages, eager for knowledge, quick to learn anything they put their hand to, and agile thinkers. Yohji supposed one of the things that drew him to both men was the sense of untapped potential in them, the idea that with favourable conditions, they might achieve anything they wanted to. Yohji found that fascinating.

But right now, he had neither of them as his companion, let alone as a lover (and he hadn’t wanted Schuldig as a lover, he sternly told his conscience). He ordered another pot of tea, more as a way of wasting more time before he had to go back to the house. He had no choice, as he well knew, but to go back eventually, unless he decided to cut his ties completely with Weiss, and that, he also knew well, would never happen. He would simply miss them all too much, and even with Ran hating his guts, he would rather be near him, and the others, than alone. Yohji feared solitude more than he feared torture, and for over four years now, Weiss had given him the companionship and friendship – with all the tribulations that had come with it – that he desperately needed. The question was – would Weiss allow him to stay? If Ran persisted with his coldness, it would tear Omi to bits, and Ken would never stand for it. If Omi's survival meant one of them had to leave, Ken would make it happen. That was the real meaning of what he'd said to Ran the day before, and Ran had known it. He hadn't taken it well.

Yohji finished the second pot of tea, and decided his tortured bladder would not thank him for inflicting more liquid on it. He used the café's bathroom, dawdled as long as he could, and then faced the cold again. He'd killed a mere two hours. Pathetic. He really needed to get a life, or a hobby, as Schuldig had become fond of telling him.

Ken was in the study when he got back. "Where's Omi?" Yohji asked. No point in asking where Ran was – he would still be skulking upstairs.

"He's gone with Ran to the hospital – now calm down, Yohji," Ken quickly added, as Yohji drew breath to yell 'hospital?!' "He's been in pain all night – it seems that bashing Germans with a broken arm isn't good for it."

Yohji winced. "Don't tell me he drove? And why did Omi go with him?"

"Yes, he drove. He refused to let me take him, and he refused to take a taxi. You do remember this is Ran we're talking about, right?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. Omi?"

"Omi just went with him to make sure Ran was okay, and so they could pick up some groceries on the way back. They should be back after lunch."

Yohji relaxed slightly, although the idiocy of a man driving with a broken arm and wonky shoulder was plain to all to see. "I suppose there's no point in asking if he seemed less upset."

Ken shook his head. "Sorry," he said mournfully. "Omi's in a funk too."

"God. What a fucking mess." Ken was still staring at him. "What?"

"You didn't sleep with Schuldig, did you."

"What difference does it make now? Ran thinks I did, and I don't remember that I didn't...."

"But you don't remember if you did?"

"I was drunk, Ken. I did fall sleep in his bed."

"Yeah, but I've 'slept' with Omi and never had sex with him."

"You can't begin to imagine how relieved I am to hear that, KenKen," Yohji said weakly, and Ken smiled a little. "But your point?"

"My point is that if you didn't, maybe the rest of it can be fixed."

"Schuldig's gone, that won't change."

"No, I know that. But Ran's still here. I just hope that eventually he might see sense."

Perversely, that made Yohji cross. "I just wonder when I had 'Property of Fujimiya Ran' tattooed on my arse."

Ken grinned. "Oh, come on, Yohji. You were his the second you met him, Omi and I both knew it. It just took a while for you both to work it out. And that's why I think you couldn't have slept with anyone else because I don't think it's ever crossed your mind that you wanted to." He sat back in his wheelchair, his arms folded, a satisfied look on his face.

Yohji put his hand on his forehead. "I must be running a fever if talking to you about my sex life makes me feel better. But you're wrong if you think that I wouldn’t sleep with Schuldig. He's got his good points, you know."

"If Ran wasn't around, I'd agree with you. But see, I know something Ran seems to have forgotten – you've been waiting for him for nearly two years, and you've never once even joked about finding someone else, even just to sleep with. There's another thing – if Schuldig thought there was even a one percent chance of you having sex with him, he'd have been all over you."

"Huh?" Yohji said, confused.

"Schuldig had a crush on you the size of Mount Fuji," Ken said dryly.

"Are you kidding?" Yohji yelped.

"Nope. I thought you realised but thinking about it last night, I knew you couldn't have or you'd never have got drunk with him in your bedroom."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Yohji, you should have seen him the night you and Ran got into trouble. He was like a mad man – you can bet your ass if it had been Ran alone, Schuldig would only have helped if you'd asked him."

"But ... but...are you sure?"

"Yohji, Ran knew it too. He could tell just by the way Schuldig looked at you. Why do you think he was so quick to believe you had slept with him?"

"You were pretty damn quick too," Yohji said, hurt that no one had bothered to tell him this astounding conjecture, and not ready to believe it despite Ken's apparent certainty. "I never, I mean, if I'd thought for a second he felt that way, I would never.... Did I?" Had he led Schuldig on?

"No, Yohji, you didn't, and that's what I realised last night. I'm sorry, I should have trusted you, I was just upset because Omi was."

Yohji just looked at him, unable to comprehend how this mess had just got worse. "Oh God – Schuldig. And Ran ... he must have thought that I ... and Schuldig...."

"Yeah. It's not like Ran's the most secure person about relationships, and even if you'd done nothing, knowing how Schuldig felt...."

"But you should have said something to me, Ken. Why the hell didn't you?"

"Well, I wasn't sure until the night you nearly died, and then I thought you knew. Anyway, if I had, it would have made things pretty uncomfortable for both of you, wouldn't it?" Yohji thought about it and realised this was true. No way would he have continued to share his bedroom with Schuldig if he'd known. "If I thought Schuldig was doing anything about it, I'd have said something. But he wasn't – at least not until last night."

"No, that's not fair," Yohji said firmly. "He didn't lay a finger on me, not even...." His face suddenly blushed hot, and Ken looked fascinated. "It wasn't like that, I just get all cuddly when I'm drunk!"

Ken chuckled. "Yohji, you're incorrigible but I believe you. Schuldig's not that stupid."

Yohji sighed. "But shit, what a mess. Schuldig gone, Ran angry as hell. I want it to be two weeks ago."

"Well, it's not. I'll help, Yohji. I'll even talk to Ran, if you want."

"Really? Would you? You're a real pal, Ken." Yohji grinned, feeling a little lighter at heart to know at least one of Weiss didn’t think he was a slut. "So, in gratitude, I'll make your lunch. Will they be back in time?" It was close to noon, and Omi usually made their lunch about 12.30.

"Omi said not, and yes, I'd like lunch early because I skipped breakfast."

"Oh?"

Ken shrugged. "Didn't feel hungry. I am now."

"Done." Yohji stood and stretched. Was it possible things might come right, eventually? He had to hope so.

 

---

They ate lunch and Ken went back to his arcane computer activities. Yohji undertook the depressing task of removing traces of Schuldig's inhabitancy from his bedroom, and to carrying out some routine chores. So busy did he keep himself that when he stopped and realised it was 3.00, he was surprised. And then, as he realised Ran and Omi had not returned, concerned. He came back downstairs and asked Ken, who agreed they were late and called Omi's phone. That resulted in the distinctive tones of a ringing mobile from Omi's bedroom. "Now why the hell didn't he take it with him?" Yohji asked in exasperation.

"Um...."

"Ken?"

"Well, he kinda gave Schuldig the number and told him to call, so...."

"He didn't want to risk Ran hearing the conversation." Wonderful. "Call Ran then. He probably just got delayed at the hospital, you know what they're like."

But Ken had no more luck with the other number. "That's weird – if Ran had turned it off because he was in the hospital, I'd understand that, but it's not picking up. Did he leave it behind too?"

"Call it again and I'll check his room." Yohji dashed up the stairs and waited, but no ring tones were heard. He ever checked the gym, the lobby and the kitchen, just in case, but nothing.

Ken was at a loss. "Would he have turned the ringer off?"

"Possible, but not likely. Ran would see that as stupid." Yohji gnawed on a lock of hair. "Right, I'm going to search." He hesitated. "Will you be all right on your own?"

"I'll be fine, and someone needs to be here to call you if they get back. You've got your cell phone, haven't you?"

"Yeah. Call me in a half hour, and every half hour after that."

"Go, Yohji. Hospital first, and then the grocery store."

Yohji nodded, but he was already on his way. He had to use Ken's car, which was a little tricky but he'd spent time learning how it worked just in case he did have to use it. He wished he still had Seven, even if the Lotus would have been bloody freezing to drive in this weather.

Damn Ran for driving anyway. He shouldn't have been on the road in his condition, and to take Omi with him, of all things. Fuck it.

Yohji drove quickly to the hospital where it was confirmed that Fujimiya-san had been seen hours before and sent home. Yohji relayed that information to Ken, who told him there was still no show at the house. The only thing left was to retrace the route Ran should have taken to the grocery store they habitually used, a habit they tried not to break for Omi's sake.

Yohji never got as far as the store, because he spotted Ran's car parked less than five minutes from the hospital. He nearly had an accident screeching in behind the other vehicle, and dashed out of his car to the driver's door. The car was unlocked, the keys still in the ignition, but there was no trace of its owner. If the police had stopped them, they would have locked and possibly impounded the car. With an icy knot in his chest, Yohji realised what must have happened. He dialled Ken's number. "Ken, the car's here with the keys. They're not. "

"Have ...have they been captured?"

"Work on that assumption." Yohji's mind snapped coldly into mission mode, and he refused to think about what this meant for him personally. "Siberian, execute Phoenix. I'll be at your location in fifteen minutes, be ready in thirty."

"Understood, Balinese."

Yohji locked Ran's car, debating briefly whether to take it or Ken's vehicle, but the latter was larger and it meant Ken could drive it. Then he drove as quickly as he could and still be legal, back to the house.

Phoenix was the operation Omi had planned even before Schuldig had arrived on the scene, but it had been refined and tightened further once they discovered just how vulnerable Ran was. Omi had ordered that all the belongings they absolutely had to keep with them could occupy no more than a small back pack, and these were to be kept ready at all times if they didn't want them lost. A set of toiletries was allowed, if it fit in the backpack. Important documents such as chequebooks, prescriptions, passports and bank account information were kept ready also, and one encrypted laptop was always loaded with their latest software and backups of all data. Every other thing in the house was disposable. All Ken had to do was collect the backpacks, medkit, essential paper files, weapons and laptop, and then initiate the virus which would completely erase all their other computers. Yohji would make sure nothing was left behind to indicate their whereabouts.

Ken had worked fast and was just setting the destruct sequence going on the third computer as Yohji arrived. Yohji spared only a moment to tell him to make sure they had Omi's phone as well their own before he methodically but rapidly checked each room, making sure that precious items such as Ran's photo were packed, no bank statements or bills were lying around, and especially no mission folders. All was in order – Omi had been most thorough in his briefing.

Ken was already packing the car. Yohji locked the house up tight, even though he knew it wouldn’t deter Estet. He just hoped that, in the remote possibility that this was just a ghastly mix up, they would be able to return home.

But somehow, in his heart of hearts, he knew. Estet had Ran and Omi, and the only hope they had were their team mates. May the gods have mercy on them.