8-Aug-2002
Breakdown: An Alternate Universe Weiss Kreutz Fanfic
by Nixerchan and bonnejeanne
Contact: nixerchan@aol.com and bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
Category: AU
Pairings: Various, or to put it another way, most of them ^__^;;
Warnings: LEMON this section. Weird premise, weird psychic powers, probably confusing plot, um, possibly some OOC, some violence, probably gratuitous use of pointless Japanese, what else... oh yeah, LEMON from time to time... poor Nixers, I'm such a corrupting influence... ^__~
Rating: NC-17
SUMMARY/PREMISE: What if the Weiss boys actually possessed psychic powers similar to Schwartz, which had been suppressed or erased from their memories?
AU TIMELINE: Picks up *almost* at the end of the OAV, just after the death of Gen. Norman Powell.
/something/ - may indicate thoughts, telepathy or other psychic contact.
'something' - indicates just thoughts.
Chapter 7: Passing
"I don't get it," Nagi said as they left the range of the park. Omi had warned him beforehand that there'd probably be a lot he didn't, but it was harder to abide by in practice. "You showed me that my... what you took is still there.. you felt it when you cut off too? So why haven't you put it back? I know you can."
Omi sighed, opening the hand that wasn't clasped in Nagi's and grimacing as the dart's point stayed caught in his flesh. Lifting it to his mouth he pulled the dart out by the rear fin with his teeth, dropped it and kicked it into a gutter.
"I don't want to," he said. "I don't *really* think I can, without... without putting everything else back too. I don't want to," he repeated stubbornly. His voice dropped to a soft whisper. "I want to... keep you."
Without thinking about it, the other boy had taken a part of the dart's sting, lessening it by distributing it between them. He walked in silence beside the other boy, his own declaration of possession to Farfarello was still fresh in memory, and still no less of a conviction. The hand on Omi's tightened a little. "I can't go anywhere," he said, then added hesitantly, /I don't think I want to either./
Omi found himself blinking rapidly and reached up to rub the back of his hand across his face roughly. /I hope someday it won't seem like such a bad thing,/ he thought fervently. /I mean to you./
"You should have let us finish, let us rebuild everything," Nagi said, more than a little hatred stirring up as he looked over the almost idyllic park. "Everything could have worked better. It wouldn't hurt anymore. Its not bad, its just that there shouldn't be a reason for it to happen."
Omi sighed. "This seems to be my day for 'should haves'," he tried, summoning a grin from somewhere. "I need to wash this off," /And I'm... kinda tired,/ the thought had the edge of a controlled exhaustion that was beginning to eat at his stamina finally, the emotional tolls taking more of a share than the fact that neither of them had slept.
/It'd be easy to carry you,/ the thought was offered with a release of the enmity that had been building up. Little by little, he started letting go of some of the tight emotional control he'd used at the meeting and concern was starting to slip out. "You did amazingly back there, considering. They aren't... easy."
At the 'carry' remark, Omi looked over, wide eyed. "That would look kinda, weird, don't you think?" he said, a little real humor quirking his mouth. At the second, audible remark, he smiled fully. /Thanks./ There was a small rush of gratitude and appreciation. Spotting a small gas station and motor lounge, he led the other boy across the street, making his way to the public restroom area. Scanning it quickly for other visitors, he found the row of sinks and held his hand under the water for a few minutes.
"How different is it than holding hands everywhere?" Nagi asked, then shrugged. /They're mundanes. I don't care./ He watched the process out of the corner of his eye and with a little trill of anxiousness. "You didn't tip it, did you?"
"No, or I'd have been a bit quicker about this," Omi said. He turned off the water and patted his hand with paper towels. "It's a matter of degree, I guess," he added. "Holding hands they just think we're fruits. If you were carrying me around they'd think... we're fruits out of control," he said and giggled. He reached up, not thinking to curb the impulse until later when it was too late, and brushed the back of his fingers against Nagi's cheek. /I know you don't care./ "I guess it's just too deeply ingrained in me to try and avoid attracting attention."
The touch was accepted easily, perhaps even a little turned into. A bit of humor lightened the color of the other boy's eyes. "I wasn't talking bride-style," he said. Omi felt the faintest of lifts, his feet never leaving the floor at all, just more supported, lighter. /I've got extra to burn anyway./
Omi's eyes widened. "Wai..." he breathed. /You're cool!/ The admiration was tinged with more than a little wonder. Then he grinned again. "It's a lot better than being thrown into a wall, I must say."
It was accepted with the pride and faint touch of excitement of someone much younger, being allowed to show off a few favorite tricks. /I do have a range you know./ Nagi's expression changed just enough to take a possessive/predatory air. "Being pressed there might be more fun these days, ne?"
The blue eyes of the boy next to him promptly blew saucers away for comparison. A flush tinted fair cheeks instantly. His thoughts and emotions stuttered for a few seconds, resolving into an almost painful mixture of embarrassment and interest, the latter having both a wistful longing and a rawer, hormonal component. He swallowed quickly and Nagi could "watch" him scrambling to try and get his thoughts "in order".
The mental action was followed by a distinct and almost matching interest, kept at a distance again with some patience. It was a wonder, if a fleeting one, on how Omi was going to react when he realized that they'd probably need to share the same bed. "Do you want to go to your team or find another place to rest?"
Omi was just about back in control of his thoughts, although a few, more than a few, mental images slipped out before he could stuff them back under a mental rock. He focused on the question. A place to rest... a nap sounded like heaven but he couldn't leave Youji holding the end of the fuse any longer. "Let's finish this. Then maybe a nap," the wistfulness this time was tangible. "There's a pay phone just outside."
Nagi nodded and lead the way, covering for a bit of color that normal determination couldn't quite suppress.
A little before 1 o'clock, Youji's cell phone gave the little trill that passed for a ring.
With a glance at the other two, the assassin opened the line. "How's it going?" he began without preamble.
"Not bad all things considered," Omi replied, more than a hint of humor mixing with a little tiredness in his voice. "I'm still in one piece... well, yeah, in one piece, and he's in one piece..." he chuckled. "And we're still in one piece," he added, an almost helpless joke. "Um... how's it going there?"
"Settled I think," Youji replied with another quick assessment of the small room. "Maybe even a little better than it was this morning, if you'd believe that. Anyway, they know you won't be alone when you get back. Will that be tonight by the way?"
"Can we come now?" Omi said, reaching for his reserves. He was finding them deeper than he could have imagined, because of the presence that was around him, in some manner inside him, adding an extra depth and dimension to his own awareness that went beyond anything he'd known. "I think we need to get things figured out as quick as we can." He sighed. "After that, I'm gonna crash."
"You've got it. Anything you want me to clear the way for first," Youji offered. He was starting to see what Ken and Aya saw in coffee, not his usual drug of choice, but the day was wearing long on all of them and hadn't even really started.
"Yeah," Omi said, his eyes on his companion. "Tell them who I'm bringing. I'd rather not push the element of surprise with Aya right now. He seemed pretty stressed yesterday."
"Sure," the other replied. He mentally congratulated himself on resisting the urge to bang his head on the wall. A little focus of power made sure that the katana would stay sheathed unless Aya put some real effort into drawing it. 'The things I do..' Youji mused at himself, somewhere admitting that it was kind of worth it. "It's probably a good idea."
"Gomen nasai, Youji," Omi said with a little sigh. "We'll be there in about fifteen minutes."
"Don't worry about it. See ya then, bishounen."
A practiced gesture pressed the disconnect and hid the small cellphone in one of the voluminous pockets of his overcoat. He glanced over to where a game over a tattered deck of cards had been suspended at the first ring of the telephone. 'This wasn't going to be easy.' "Okay boys, how do you like it, explanation before or after?"
Aya leaned against the small counter backstage with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just say it."
Youji shrugged and leaned back, affecting a far more casual look than he felt. "Omi'll be here in about fifteen minutes with Prodigy," he said directly. "An accident, something happened between them and they're a little stuck with each other's company by what I picked up."
Youji had the pleasure of seeing Aya's eyes widen. Whatever he might have guessed, it wasn't anything close. His unleaned from the counter reflexively, but just stood there. The obvious conflicts were going through his mind too rapidly to process. The flare of paranoia was instantaneous. A part of him immediately jumped to blaming Youji for it somehow but he controlled the impulse to do *anything*. The shut down was almost visible.
"You're serious?" Ken knew it was a stupid question the moment it slipped out, but couldn't quite find anything else to follow it up. A similarly thoughtless urge to confirm the codename was cut off in time - there weren't many others out there. "You let them go?" he finally asked, heavy with disbelief.
"One, I seriously doubt I could have talked him out of it," Youji replied. It wasn't easy to pretend he wasn't watching the others carefully without a pair of sunglasses. Those he belatedly realized were still somewhere on the floor in the dressing room. "He seemed... comfortable. He was more worried about how I'd react than anything Nagi would do." He could hear the confusion in his own voice, but marked it off as too late to take it back now. "You'll see when they get here."
"What did they do to him?" Aya said flatly.
Youji shook his head, a faint upturn to his lips as he repeated Omi's jest n another context. "He says they're both in one piece, which with Omi could mean having got out of a full battle alive to they sat down to a nice tea and okashi."
The redhead's amethyst eyes sparked, the confirmation stirring his paranoia further. He couldn't stop asking himself the question of why would Omi bring an enemy to them. His lips were stiff when he forced out a question. "He signaled coercion?"
"No, he gave me every damned sign he has that it *wasn't,*" Youji said. "God only knows why that kid would need protection, but Omi seemed to be going out of his way to give it."
A muscle in Aya's jaw twitched. He stared into Youji's eyes, as if trying to see through him to the wall beyond.
"So, there's a chance we've lost Omi?" Ken asked, the words sounding forced. The dark-haired assassin watched out over the stage to the main doors of the theater, just as carefully not looking at either of them.
"Wait before you go there," Youji said, a harder, more dangerous tone returning briefly. "He said he'd leave if this wouldn't work, but... if he already had, he'd have never contacted me at all."
Aya's eyes seemed to focus back on Youji. Silently, he moved next to Ken, taking a covering position. "We'll wait," he said, the tone of Weiss's leader returning to his voice for the first time since the craziness had broken loose.
"That should be enough," Youji said quietly. He sought out one of the folding chairs stacked against the far stage wall and pulled it back over to the counter. A more comfortable seating established, he glanced at his watch and settled in to wait.
Conscious of Aya's eyes on him, Ken was doing his level best not to pace. He kept his position, half supported by the counter's edge, and drummed his fingers on the countertop. This was Omi after all, the very last one that he'd have thought of for any of this, but, he decided, that was what wasn't settling well at all. His mind rebelled against the idea of Omi betraying them for Schwartz, but it was likewise as unhelpful with supplying any explanation at all.
Preoccupied with other thoughts, the faint patterns of cold-condensation on the countertop as his fingers rose and fell, went unnoticed.
It seemed pretty obvious to Omi that the best approach would be from a direction that would give his partners plenty of time to see who was coming. The doors at the back of the auditorium opened and he stepped through, Nagi at his side. Coming to the aisle by the back row he paused, seeing the others. He raised a hand, but his expression was several degrees more serious than his normal cheerful grin. /This is gonna be ok,/ he thought, as much a wish as anything. Walking slowly down the aisle, he stopped at the last row of seats.
"You know how you guys are always saying one day I'll outsmart myself?" he said a little breathlessly. "Well... I did."
Aya was silent, everything in him focused on observing the two boys, and on preparing for an attack from some unexpected quarter.
/Do what you need to do,/ the thought was given to Omi with the air of an open offer and a degree of reassurance. Nagi calmly locked stares with Aya. "I'm not going to do anything."
Aya met the look and returned it. A part of him itched to use his new ability, now, before something could happen. It would be the safest option. Control the boy and then Omi would be free to explain what was going on. The idea crawled around in his head like a snake.
Omi watched the exchange of looks and an uneasy feeling shivered across his nerves. The emotions he felt coming from Aya were...
"No," he said, making it strong, trying not to be threatening, but he took a step half in front of Nagi.
Aya's lips thinned. So Omi was choosing... between...
Youji frowned, then sighed, pushing himself to his feet. "Why don't we take this from the top?" Youji said watching the dangerous expression on Aya's face and the unusual stillness from the man behind him. "A staring match isn't going to get anyone anywhere."
Biting his lip, Omi opened himself and unclasped Nagi's hand. /You said do what I need to do... don't... freak.../
"Aya, do it to me. The control thing. It's okay. I know you need to be sure. But me, not him. He's had enough to deal with, believe me."
Nagi finally broke his attention away from Aya to stare at Omi in visible shock, then displeasure and a protective defensiveness. He thinned his lips, but made no move to their onstage audience. /Do you know what you're doing?/
A helpless impression of shoulders lifting. /No... but I know he won't hurt me,/ the answer was without doubts.
The boy's words had frozen Aya, his hands fisting to white knuckled tightness, the katana discarded on the counter before the arrival. A vicious battle raged in his head. The near-tangible wave of sincerity from Omi was matched by the reaction from Prodigy. His mind fought - it couldn't be what it appeared to be, it wasn't possible for the emotions of the two boys to be what they appeared, it wasn't....
His eyes flickered from Omi to Nagi and stayed there, not quite able to stay meeting the blond's open regard.
"Seems like you would have a problem with that," he spoke, his voice devoid of inflection, yet implying a question nevertheless.
Nagi knew without looking back where the question was aimed. "He says you won't hurt him." The boy's voice didn't hold that same trust. Delicate hands curled on themselves, cutting off any threats before he could deliver them.
The person who stood there wasn't the Prodigy Aya knew. Was and yet truly wasn't. Omi... was Omi. But for the contradiction of his actions, he was every iota the boy Aya knew. 'He says you won't hurt him...' Youji's remarks about protecting Omi intruded on him unwanted.
Consciously, he forced his hands to open. Made himself look back into open blue eyes that waited. Waited for him to take control of the boy's mind so he could force the truth out of him.
A near-blinding flash of pain sliced through his head from nowhere. It was too sudden and too severe to cover and his face twisted for a moment before he could get it back under control.
"Aya!" Omi's voice vibrated with concern.
Swallowing an accompanying surge of vertigo down, Aya raised a hand slowly to his temple, fighting it every inch of the way. "No," he said, although he wasn't entirely sure who he was saying it to, Omi, Nagi, or more likely, himself. Pressing his fingers to his temple, the pressure dimming the throb minutely, he said, "No. Just. Tell us what happened."
Hidden from any of the others, Aya felt one of Ken's hand settle on his back, offering reassurance. A faint warmth spread from the contact, the gentle heat stealing some of the tension.
Omi watched Aya's face, his own expression one of concern. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, his hand reaching out to snag the other boy's unconsciously. "It started as just an encounter. I've been thinking about them. We talked and stuff. I sent him something, feelings, I guess I was trying to show good faith, and maybe something else. It didn't work like I thought. I didn't know things about him. Things he'd had to do to... deal with stuff. I unbalanced everything. And I couldn't... I couldn't just leave it like that..."
The other boy listened with a keen discomfort in hearing it outloud, and in front of people he hardly knew more about than how they fought. Just a reminder of his own offer and a curiosity in how the other boy saw things kept it in check. Nagi watched the juncture between the stage and the floor, not wanting to leave and not wanting to see any of the other people's expressions either. At disgust or pity, he wouldn't be able to promise Omi his good behavior.
Ken was the first one to speak up afterward. "So... this is the only way?" he asked, more concern and an guilty, unfocused relief, than judgment. It was... weird, but not the worst that his mind had been conjuring.
"This is the way I've chosen," Omi said, his voice betraying a level of maturity the others knew he possessed, but didn't reveal all that frequently. "This is what we have chosen. I know it makes an already complicated situation that much more, but there are some possible benefits if we can work it out."
Aya was silent, listening to Ken's voice, watching Nagi's face. Almost unwillingly, his eyes flickered to Youji.
The blond hadn't quite managed to relax since he'd stood up in the beginning. His head was lowered so that most of his expression was hidden by the fall of blond locks, but the set of what Aya could see was tight. "Sounds like you've got something already?" he prompted.
Omi nodded slowly. "Nagi was out last night because Oracle picked up something from what happened at the base. That's what I think, anyway. It changes things, see? And there's something else. Birman's some kind of plant, from some other group, the ones Schwartz broke away from. There might be others in Kritiker as well. All the stuff we managed to dig up is on my laptop, that's why I wanted you to take it, in case..."
Youji glanced back at the backpack resting innocently a little beyond Aya and Ken unopened. "Figured I'd wait until after 1:00," he said, a slight shrug and a glance back at the other two along the counter.
"We've been dealing with them for quite a number of years now, and you've just attracted their attention," Nagi said. "I can't get out of the way of it, so Oracle has proposed a meeting, to discuss the possibilities of a temporary alliance until there is some resolution."
Aya leaned back imperceptibly, into the touch that remained at his back. The headache was ebbing slowly. Stripping the emotional content from the situation, he pushed it through the logic. He'd an idea he wouldn't like the results, but it was past time to try and get a handle back.
"Kritiker is problem number one," he said. Dropping his hand from his temple, he turned to look at Ken, then at Youji more openly. "We need time to think about this. I'd guess you haven't slept," he directed this last to Omi.
Suppressing a sigh, the blond shook his head sheepishly.
Flickering a look across Nagi, Aya looked back to the other two. "Omi and... Prodigy, get some rest. We do some thinking and maybe some recon. Conference to discuss the proposal this evening." He left it open for objections.
When there seemed to be no objections, Nagi looked back up at Aya, keeping Omi from leaving just yet. "Force it down to your hand and crush it, then let go the fragments," he said, demonstrating with his free hand. "It's a waste, but it'll work for emergencies. You've got *too* much control."
Aya stared at the boy, his eyes widening fractionally. He didn't respond, but the words circled in his mind.
Omi smiled, tugging Nagi by the hand. He trailed around to the steps at the side of the stage, ducking back into the wings and finding his way to the dressing room. "Thanks."
Nagi shrugged slightly. "It's a basic mental exercise," he said. As the door closed behind them, he let his own exhaustion show, and the phantom support Omi felt slipped away. "What he was doing wasn't healthy." /He'd have managed to give himself an aneurysm if he'd kept that up./
Reaching down, Omi pulled the laces of his shoes and toed them off. "Youji never got blocked. I didn't start getting through mine until after Estet went down. Aya and Ken... they just sort of... popped!" Omi shrugged. "That's one of the reasons I kept thinking about you guys. You know what to do, how to do it. I don't know anybody else that knows about that stuff. Kritiker doesn't want us to know about our own talents, apparently. Youji said they'd block our memories if they knew about it. Aya and Ken are AWOL, and Youji and I just barely managed to play it under the wire, but I doubt that will last long. So I figure they will give up on the idea of blocking us and just cut their losses - mark us for termination."
The other boy slipped polished loafers that could have come with any school uniform and put them neatly aside. He looked over both beds while listening, choosing the one without the rumpled mess of fabric on it to tug Omi towards. "Depends. We don't know why they've been keeping you this long, right?" Nagi said. "It's better to expect them to try both tactics, rather than try to plan for the most likely one."
Going easily with the tug, Omi grinned. "Yes sir." /I want to know more about what happened with Aya and Ken, it's pretty sketchy. I think there was something with Birman./ His thoughts spun to silence as he began to relax into his exhaustion. Looking at the other boy. /Need to get you out of that uniform,/ he thought, and then blushed. /I mean you'd look good in some less-uptight clothes.../
Nagi blinked at Omi, looking over himself once. He shook his head slightly, not offering his own opinion on it. "Birman? That had to have been impressive, and tricky." /And what would be less... uptight?/ Omi could almost hear a mental 'hmph' at the description.
There was a mental, musical impression of mirth. A mental picture flickered by of Nagi in cut offs and a midriff shirt in a shade of green that brought out the blue in his dark eyes.
A faint smile surface on the other boy's face before he broke contact. Omi got a light shove towards the bed, an invisible pressure coaxing him to sit. The "Hmph," was audible this time.
Omi let himself drop onto the bed, grinning impudently. "Think of the impression you'd make on your team mates..." Omi was definitely teetering on the borderline of the sillies.
Nagi sat down beside him. "MMhmm which first? Farfarello's delight at me finally figuring out how to hurt God, or perhaps Crawford's lecture since I'd managed to break Schuldig's brain once and for all?" He nudged Omi in the side.
Giggling, the blond flopped back on the bed. "God likes school uniforms? Even secular school? As for Mastermind, why pay attention to a guy who thinks yellow goes with everything?"
"I was thinking painful to the eyes," Nagi corrected the first question, the smile a bit more visible. It was kind of hard to stop now, especially with Omi's humor lapping at his sense. "And I have two words for you. Orange. Sweater."
Omi grinned. "Hmmm... when did you see that, he usually wears his coat in a fight... been peeking... I shall nickname you Tom."
"Schuldig's pastime. *I* had to put up with listening to him rant," Nagi countered, laying down beside Omi on his side, almost naturally draping an arm over the other boy to complete the contact.
Just as easily, Omi's arm moved around the other boy's waist. His face was lightly flushed with laughter but his expression stilled, something seeming to catch in his throat. There was an unconscious flood of warmth and something that was a kind of quiet happiness, layered with a sudden wonder. /...beautiful.../ Then a flood of flustered confusion.
The arm around Omi tightened, bringing him a little closer to the boy beside him. Nagi sighed, a perceptible shiver running down his frame. It wasn't quite as new anymore, but he still soaked it up with the same kind of wonder. The comment and confusion didn't quite sink in for a few seconds. /What is?/
/You../ the thought beat clearly before Omi could temper it. His heartbeat sped up and he concentrated on calming it down. /...don't...he might not... no pushing... it's too soon... isn't it?/
The accidental continuation settled quite a bit of confusion that the first response had stirred up. It fell into a rather simplistic order in Nagi's mind. This he understood. He got enough leverage under himself to slide a little over Omi, lips covering his. /I can still hear you,/ the thought came quietly.
Omi gasped softly, the sensation of a soft mouth against his own stirring up both a deeply suppressed longing and a sensed of shame. /...oh... I'm sorry.../ the pulse of fear was instinctive, but it wasn't fear of the kiss, or the boy next to him. It was a simple primal fear of having his love rejected because it was somehow wrong or inadequate. It was something that came from the earliest depths of Omi's memories, with a hard pulse of reinforcement around the memory of a headstrong girl with wide eyes.
Nagi had no intentions of withdrawing at the apology, just flicker of disbelief to the other boy was his only real answer to that. He broke the kiss, but didn't move far, his free hand reaching up to trace along the side of Omi's face. /Someone else have this room too?/ A vague mental image of the sight of the second bed from the angle of someone just entering the room was offered to Omi with awkward consideration.
Omi's cheek turned into the touch, as a drop of clear liquid escaped from the corner of one eye. /Youji-kun,/ he answered without thinking, his cheeks flooding with color and heat. /I don't think he'll come in... why?/ Part of his concentration was focused on stuffing the emotions that had welled up so unexpectedly back down for fear of making Nagi more uncomfortable.
/Because I'm not sharing you anymore today,/ Nagi replied, a mix of possessiveness, a peevishness springing from exhaustion and something he hadn't figured out yet centering around Omi alone.
/Not.../ Omi's arm tightened around Nagi's waist and a soft glow of warmth slid around the dark-haired boy in reassurance and protection. /Ok..../
The boy relaxed into Omi's embrace, dark eyes closing. /Stop worrying... Do that later, over more important things./
"Aa," Omi murmured, relaxing as well. It occurred to him that the sense of Nagi's strength, a particular kind of calm he'd never felt from anyone else, had been supporting him all day. Omi watched the other boy's face for a few more moments before closing his own eyes. /Yes, Nagi-kun.../ The other boy's presence was a safe place, somehow. Relaxing completely, he drifted into sleep.
Nagi let go of a bit of tension as he felt Omi slip away. Cracking his eyes open, he shot the door an annoyed look. He settled more than enough pressure on it than any one person could force and locked it down with a satisfied smirk. /Sleep somewhere else,/ the command came out of the sleepy assumption that he'd be heard, and finally settled down to follow Omi.
TBC