16-July-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 5: Realignment
The cell phone's melody was muffled under his body, but eventually it woke Youji up.
There were of course, certain sounds or absences of sounds, that would rouse the assassin in less than an instant. This was not one of them. Sleep numbed fingers fumbled to fish out the small phone and a further second was wasted as his eyes focused, searching for the 'Talk' button.
"Yeah?" he managed to mumble, laying heavily back down into the 'bedding' he'd made.
"Youji-kun," Omi's voice was wide awake and contained a slight undercurrent of tension. "You 'wake? Need a minute?"
The tone was enough to pull the sluggishness out of the lanky blond's veins. "I'm with you. What's up?"
"I need a favor," Omi said. "There's a breakfast cafe about eight blocks south and two west of you. Can you leave the guys a note and meet me there?"
Youji was silent a moment, but sounds of movement were clear to Omi's side of the line. "Gimmie fifteen minutes," he said, fingers tearing a small sheet of paper out of his address book, the words, 'Back Soon,' freshly printed on it. "You know this isn't going to be improving my approval rating around here, bishounen."
"Well if it helps, you may be the more popular of the two of us pretty soon," Omi said, with almost helpless humor.
"Can't stand to be one-upped can you?" Youji retorted. The teasing didn't come without concern. Almost immediately he was on his feet, pushing his feet back into his boots. A moment later, a note had been tacked onto the door of their room, and the former detective was heading for the door with as much stealth as he could manage.
The cafe was easy enough to find, and busy without being over-crowded. He didn't see the blond teen upon arriving. A harried waitress asked if he wanted a booth or the bar.
"Neither, hun, I'm looking for a shortish teenager, blond hair, huge blue eyes, should be alone," Youji said, still attempting to spot the boy on his own.
Her eyebrows went up. "The kid?" She glanced back at a booth where no one was sitting. "Oh, he said he'd be right back, that's his table," she said and waved towards the booth by the window, not bothering to correct part of the description for the accuracy of the rest.
Youji gave her a distracted thanks, the flash of smile for her more automatic than heartfelt. Sliding through the crowd of breakfasting businessmen, he got to the booth in rather short order, wondering more than a little about the teenager's absence. /He's probably getting tailed,/ he decided, leaning on one elbow to watch the crowd for indicators.
It was only a minute or so later when he spotted Omi coming through the room from the back, where the restrooms were. He was threading his way through the diners, his eyes on Youji from across the room. He had one hand a little behind him, clasped in the hand of another figure which he carefully kept shielded with his own body as they approached. The blocking was purposeful, not keeping Youji from seeing his companion, just making it clear that his posture was protective.
The assassin watching deliberately waited until he knew Omi was close enough to see and opened the clasp on his watch and placing it across the table. It was true he didn't need it on to use it, but the intent in the gesture was that not to be mistaken.
A slight smile touched Omi's mouth, shifting his intent expression just a little. He gave Nagi's hand a squeeze and stopped at the booth, not sitting down yet. He continued to keep his body between Youji and the other boy, as much for Nagi's peace of mind as his own, and offering a sort of reverse shield to the older assassin. "Hi," he said, trying for the hundredth time to think of exactly how he was going to explain this.
The only warning Omi had that the decision was to be taken away was a return squeeze on his hand and the sensation of reassurance and confidence through that contact. Then it was released as Nagi slipped around Omi from behind to slide into the seat, leaving more than enough room for Omi beside him.
Youji's eyes widened immediately, and his free hand went automatically for his wrist a second before his memory belatedly reminded him when and why he'd already taken off the watch. Tearing his eyes off the enemy, who at the moment seemed to be completely ignoring him in favor of looking over the cafe's menu, he turned to Omi. A cold feeling settled hard in his stomach. "I /was/ kidding before, bishounen," Youji said, his voice sounding a little hoarse to his own ears. Intent on Omi, he missed the sharp glance from the dark boy at the nickname, "This isn't a race to 'Shi-ne.'"
Omi blushed, taking the seat next to Nagi quickly. If Youji had any thoughts about this being some kind of captive scenario with the Schwartz member using some kind of telekinetic leash on the blond, Omi's entire demeanor contradicted that possibility. When he sat, he stayed a lot closer to Nagi that a casual acquaintance or even a good friend, nor was there even a hint of anything forced about it, nor the slightest trace of fear, other than nervousness as he watched Youji's reactions. Omi shrugged helplessly. "I know," he said. "But I think I may beat you to it anyway." He look a deep breath, and decided to keep it simple. "We're together," he said, giving the simple phrase as much meaning as it would contain.
There was a very disjointed and powerful sensation of still dreaming in Youji's mind. Even taking the past few days for granted, this wasn't exactly what he expected when answering the phone this morning. "Together..." he repeated, still staring at Omi. "How long have you been...?"
"It just happened last night," Nagi answered instead. He set the menu aside, and put a finger on the watch in front of him. With a measuring look, he slid it across the table to Youji.
Omi's head bobbed, nodding agreement. "It's sudden for us too," he said, trying to keep his voice from sounding as breathless as he felt. "He picked me up last night. I figured it was an opportunity, something I'd been thinking about already but I hadn't really had a chance to plan anything or talk it over with anyone."
Huge green eyes fixed on Nagi instead, more than a little shock and doubt in them. "And you agreed, just like that?"
Nagi looked aside, sharply, the discomfort apparent on his face. "I started it," he stated. "I didn't think it would go that far."
"How... far?"
Omi peered at Youji, trying to reconcile his expression. "Youji-kun... what are you..."
Youji shook his head, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and more than a little jealousy. Leaning forward a little, he said quickly and low, "Look, I'm happy for you two, but don't you think the timing is a little off for a /relationship/?!" The last word was just a little less than a hiss.
"Youji-kun!" Omi... squeaked. His fair skin flooded with color. "You... think..." The flush took a second wave and the boy couldn't quite stop one hand from covering his face as he ran the conversation back through his quick mind. "That's *not* what I was talking about!"
It didn't help his embarrassment that the idea had certainly dashed through his mind more than a few times, each instance being squashed down as fast as he could manage it for fear of causing the other boy discomfort.
"You're... not...?" Youji repeated, watching one boy panic and the other go very, very still, though both had more than a little color. He put his own head in his hands, caught somewhere between confusion, relief and the urge to burst out laughing simply from Omi's expression. "Someone care to fill me in a little?"
Omi threw a very apologetic look at the boy beside him, taking a couple of breaths to calm down. "M-my fault, I forgot for a moment who I was talking to!" he said, making the remark one of humorous affection. He fanned his face for a moment, surreptitiously darting a look at Nagi, hoping the boy wasn't freaking out about it... even though he almost was himself.
He decided to try it from the beginning. "He was sent out to try and find one of us. He did. I spotted him. I decided that given the situation, maybe a conversation wouldn't be such a bad idea." He kept it abbreviated. "We talked. They know something is going on. Just not what. I thought maybe... maybe there was an option to consider. Better than fighting on multiple fronts, especially now. We sort of reached a very superficial agreement of sorts..." he glanced at the other boy again, trying to control to urge to find his hand and fasten on it. His tone made it clear this wasn't the end of the story.
Even disconnected, Omi could feel the other boy's embarrassment clearly, even though the color had already vanished from pale skin. Across the table Youji peeked out from between his fingers, voice a little muffled, "This doesn't seem... superficial." The younger boy probably would have heard more than a few words just from the implied negotiations from some of the other members, and he admitted, probably himself, but held it in for a certainty that the obvious was the least of it at this point.
Omi sighed and nodded. "It's my fault," he said. There wasn't any regret in the words at all. "I guess I was being clever. I made another kind of contact, intending to... well never mind. It's done, we're together, I'm not sorry, and everybody's just going to have to live with it." He ignored the possibility that they wouldn't.
While Youji took that in silence, Omi felt a hand brush along him under the table. /I'm not good at this,/ a note of apology and awkwardness came with the contact.
Omi gave up and reached out to clasp Nagi's hand firmly, fingers entwining. "You're doing better than I am," he whispered, with a small grin. "You're doing fantastic." /I'm proud of you.../ "It's not smooth but believe me, we've got the best audience for a first dry run."
Nagi nodded a little. All of Weiss were volatile giving the right circumstances, but this one seemed to be taking it calmer than he had expected. He hadn't touched the weapon he'd offered in return, but if what Omi had shown him last night was true, touch wasn't a consideration. He let out an audible sigh, catching the older assassin's attention. "He hasn't betrayed you, or he wouldn't be sitting here," he said, continuing right over Youji's attempts to protest the assessment. "I can't betray him, and even if I did, he'd know it before I'd even worked it into a plan. He likes you too much for me to do anything to the rest of Weiss either. It's uncomfortable, but that's how things stand. He can tell you the same if you don't want to hear it from me."
Omi turned in the seat, pulling his knees under him nimbly to sit on his heels facing Nagi, his expression concerned and almost angry, although it was evident to the other boy that wasn't directed at him. "Don't! You don't have to do that... it's not even *their* business why." He reached up, compelled, to touch Nagi's face and then caught himself and dropped his hand, not wanting to embarrass the other boy further. "You don't have to tell anybody why." His impulse was pure protective, the love in it throbbing as an undercurrent, having grown steadily throughout their contact during the night.
Youji looked between the two, not blind to what the other member of Weiss was making no attempt to hide. It had taken in those few short minutes that time to pull everything personal back in, and take it from a friend's viewpoint again, and then as one of the group's. Letting his hands drop and fold on the table surface, he looked between the two of them, "You know that's not going to fly," he said quietly. "Aya..." He let the word stand for itself. The swordsman wasn't going to be anywhere as patient or as restrained as he was with Youji even on their worst terms.
Omi looked at Youji, his expression determined. "It will have to fly. That's the way it is. Look, Youji, Aya needs me. He needs my help or he doesn't stand a chance of protecting Aya-chan. He can... he can control me or whatever he needs to be sure, but Nagi is left alone. Period. No questions, no pushing, no anything. I'm not going to let anybody take one bit of this out on him. I won't. I'll do whatever I have to do." Unshed tears made his eyes glimmer but he kept them from spilling over. "Here's the bottom line. You don't want to *know* why this has to be. If you don't trust anything else, trust me on that because if I have to I can make you, Aya or anybody *feel* something that will make it very clear, and you *don't* want to feel it."
/He will not,/ the thought was delivered to Omi calmly, but that only barely masked a very tightly controlled rush of aggression at the idea, threatening violence at the sheer power built up behind it. A swirl of other things, underlying emotions and memories too fast to be identified seemed only to back up the defensive threat. From the view across the table, there was an unmistakable flash of red in midnight blue eyes, even though Prodigy's expression never actually changed.
"I'm not challenging, bishounen," Youji said, the determination in the younger member making him take a mental step back. "I'm warning you on it."
Omi sent a flow of soothing and reassurance, most of it to Nagi but a little bit diverted to Youji as well. "I really don't think he'll want to," he said softly. He threw a look at Youji. "He didn't with you, did he? I'm sure it occurred to him. "
"I offered to let him, the second time," Youji replied, "But the first time he didn't have the first damn reservation. It wasn't /my/ idea to send Manx on a goose chase to the other side of the compound. I wouldn't have even left the room." He deflated a bit, "This is different and you know it."
Omi nodded. "This is different. But it doesn't make any difference how much anyone likes it or not. We have basically two options. Neither of us want to give up on existing loyalties but if the loyalties in question won't agree to deal with it..."
"We leave both of them," Nagi finished without hesitation.
'They're serious about this,' Youji thought, watching both of them. That more than anything swayed the taller blond. "You've got me, but you know how much my opinion counts for right about now. I suggest you take them one at a time... There's a good chance Ken will have a better time breaking it to Aya." Youji barely hide any of the dry humor at that. Omi had left early.
Omi tilted his head. "Um... if there's a way to manage that... problem is, how do we get Ken-kun by himself?" The quirk in his smile indicated that he had a fair enough idea what Youji was referring to, from that brief moment of opening himself to the ones next door the previous evening. "On top it which, we're kind of on a time limit. Got somewhere to be at noon."
"You can't skip it?" Youji asked, already knowing that Omi wasn't one to make frivolous appointments. "Nevermind, if it has anything to do with him," he glance over at Nagi briefly, "Don't mention it, just go."
Omi nodded. "Well I have some information for you, anyway. I did a set-up for the RV explosion and they are at least appearing to buy it for the time being. So there's a chance you could call in and run a story and it might hold for a short time. Not sure if you want to do that but the option's there. Oh yeah and Birman... is some kind of plant. I don't have much information on that yet but there are probably others."
"Any time we can buy is good time," Youji said, then gave a rueful half smile. "Normally I'd ask you to bounce the call a couple of times, but with a noon date... We'll be moving soon, do you want to try to talk to them, or get in touch with me afterwards?"
Omi nibbled on his thumbnail, thinking furiously. "Gimme your cell." When Youji handed it over, Omi dug his laptop out of his backpack and used a small cable to connect the device to the computer. After a few minutes of flying fingers over keys, he disconnected the phone and closed up the computer. "A call from this will appear to be from about five different cell frequencies. If you keep it short it should be ok." That was easier to deal with than the question. Shaking his head finally, he said, "Afterwards." Then he zipped the backpack up and pushed it over the table. "Keep this for me ok?"
Youji picked up the backpack and put it at his side. As an afterthought, he picked up his watch and wrapped it back around his wrist. "I'm assuming it won't be a lie to say you're on recon," Youji said, "Loosely speaking of course."
Omi smiled and then placed his arm on the table, extending it towards Youji, palm up.
He looked at the hand for a moment, before giving Omi a thin smile. "Nah, bishounen," he said, picking up the backpack again and slinging a strap over his shoulder as he stood up. "Like you said, I don't wanna know."
The blond's expression became distressed for a moment before he mastered it. "Gomen. I just wanted to let you know, in case. Well, words work too. Thanks for being my friend, Youji. And, I love you."
"I'm always that," Youji replied, the confidence in that overshadowing the rest. For a moment he held an indecisive expression, looking back down at Omi. There was enough implied that whatever had happened last night had the overtones of something terrible and probably not willing, even given the evidence that both of them seem comfortable enough with the result. Still, there were many things that were still outside of his ability to find a reaction to. "Give me a call sometime around 1:00 to let me know you're okay."
Omi nodded, not having to say the rest, 'if he could'. "I will." He grinned recklessly. "Then on to phase three. Who knows, we may be eating popcorn and watching movies on tape by this evening."
Youji grinned at that, "And harvesting bacon from the trees in the morning." He waved and turned to leave, "Be careful, and not just with them."
"You too," Omi called. "My suggestion: take coffee. Your popularity could skyrocket."
"So that's your secret."
Omi watched the tall blond disappear onto the street. He stretched his arms out and put his face on the table. "One down," he said, slightly muffled.
The touch across his shoulders was hesitant, but the arm settled there comfortably enough. "That went better than I'd have thought it would."
Omi lifted his head and smiled. "Not too bad at all." He turned slightly under the arm, liking the weight of it. "So is there anything you want to tell me to do or not do? I figured I'd keep my mouth shut and look dumb and pretty, mostly."
Omi could feel Nagi's amusement easily. "I don't think you'll manage that any better than I did." Nagi sighed, sobering up immediately. "It depends on who's there. Hiding it won't be an option at all." The telekinetic paused, struggling with the explanation more than a little. "I'm... different. And it won't take Schuldig to notice it."
Omi rested his hand on Nagi's knee gently. "Hiding it isn't necessary." His eyes crinkled. "No better than you, huh? Well it's true, you didn't manage to look dumb..." He grinned and looked away quickly, almost surprised at himself but not quite.
There was a little stiffness of shock and faint traces of a lingering resentment and confusion from the dark haired boy and no attempts from him to cut it off in the slightest. The boy's eyes narrowed and the hand on his shoulder drifted down, more resembling a caress than a casual withdrawal. "So kittens play with cats," Nagi said, an older tone in his voice, a harder edge following it. "Just cut me off before you do it again with him."
Omi leaned his head on his hand, propping his arm on the table. His expression wasn't anything but gently open. "That would be hard since I never did it with him to begin with." He watched Nagi, feeling a little relieved already and the conversation hadn't even happened yet. "I admit I wanted to. But try not to hold it against me... he's gorgeous and one of the few people I trust. And sometimes..." he shrugged and sighed. "I know it doesn't do any good to wish to be different, normal, but hiding at school can be hard sometimes."
Nagi reached into Omi's pocket, pulling out the pretzeled spoon to examine it with a closer curiosity. "He already acts like your lover," he said, running a finger over a smooth edge and glancing back at Omi. It was hard to keep the indignation with it laid plain two different ways. "You could probably get him if you pushed the situation."
Omi just looked at Nagi. Nagi's deep midnight eyes. Nagi's shining dark hair. Nagi's delicate features, graceful hands. "Maybe I don't want it if I have to push," he said quietly. "I think with Youji, the trust is the most important thing, to both of us." With a slight smile he added, "As for the act, it's part affection, part tease, and part... well, Youji."
"Aa..." Nagi said, turning the metal over once more before returning it to the other boy's pocket. It made a little bit of sense to him if pushed over the right logic... even if the declaration of want had the slight taste of a lie. "For Crawford, just play it straight, for Schuldig don't challenge him, and for Farfarello," Nagi shrugged, "Use your judgment based on the situation. I'll keep the attention on me."
Omi nodded. He watched the other boy for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?"
Nagi nodded a little surprise visible at the actual request.
"Why did it bother you about Youji?"
"Because he seemed to be there first," Nagi said simply. He didn't, this time, bother to hide the possessiveness or jealousy.
Omi tried not to be too happy about it. "Do you want..." he started to ask, but his courage failed him and he trailed off. "Gomen. It doesn't matter. I mean, it matters but we need to go... and..." He suddenly wished he had his backpack to fumble with.
Nagi watched for a moment, a patience he didn't know he had tempering his own reactions. He was more than prepared to wait, comfortable with what the other hadn't quite managed to hide. "We can't go until you stand up," Nagi reminded him quietly, give the wall to the other side of him a glance and taking the other boy's hand from the tabletop in his just as calmly.
"Oh, right, uh, gomen," Omi stuttered, jumping up without disengaging from the other boy. He left a tip on the table, since he'd been redirecting the waitress subtly every time she came by. Giving her a sunny smile, he led the way out of the cafe to the street, waiting there for the dark boy to take the lead.
"Just a few seconds," Nagi apologized, letting go of Omi's hand and then with as much care as he could manage closed off entirely from the blond, a grimace tightening his face. He quickly opened up an entirely different way, his own distress causing his voice to be 'louder' than he intended. /Schuldig,/ he sent, hoping that his usual terse nature over these methods would cover everything else. /Where's Crawford?/
/Tone it down,/ the reply was almost snarled, but lightened as it continued. /You sound like hell./
/I didn't ask how I sounded./
/Touchy today too. There's a park some ways down the first road the one you're on intersects with./
Nagi cut the connection off quickly, a hollow feeling building up beyond his tolerance. When his hand found Omi's again, the grip was just short of painful. "This way," he said, voice still tight as he removed the shield between them.
Ignoring the people moving around them, Omi put his arms around the other boy for a few moments. He kept the reassurance and supporting warmth from being a sudden flood, but the steady flow moved along the other boy's nerves quickly. As they reestablished the bond, Nagi felt the edges of a chill dispelling, unaware that Omi had been shivering slightly during the interval. After a couple of minutes Omi eased away from the embrace, keeping his hand clasped tightly. He concentrated on slipping some of his own blocks into place, everywhere but between them, as they walked.
TBC