Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Convergence ❯ Convergence 4 (Part B) ( Chapter 6 )

Convergence

Part 4

(part B)

 

“Calm yourself down, Kudoh!” Mamoru barked, letting the steel come into his voice.

 

Ken nearly laughed at the surprised look on Yohji's face. His friend hadn't ever really been on the receiving end of the Takatori death-glare before. Not quite as good as Aya's, but pretty darn effective.

 

Once his friend had stopped his rant, Mamoru allowed his voice to regain its normally calm cadence. “I'm going to tell you everything, Yohji, but you have to stay calm. I need you to listen carefully because this is very important. What is the last thing you remember about the Koua mission?”

 

The blond ran a hand through his hair, showing clear annoyance at how short it was. “I had an argument with Aya. He didn't want me there, didn't think I could handle it after Europe. I remember walking out on him. Everything after that is a complete blank.”

 

Mamoru apparently decided that his best option was just to dive it. Dancing around the facts would not help Yohji in the least. “You were on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown during the mission. When you got back from Germany, you were treating us all like strangers, especially Aya. He did not want you involved with the mission since the primary target was a woman and you seemed especially sensitive to that. During the course of the mission you physically attacked Aya, disobeyed orders and decided that you could not stand to be part of Weiß anymore. We were able to piece together from your actions that Tsujii offered you the chance to erase your past, and that you accepted it. You gave Aya no choice but to leave you behind. When you were found afterwards, I understood how unhappy you were in the past months and I wanted you to have the chance for a normal life if that was what you really desired.

 

“I kept track of you this past year. You never regained your memory on your own and married your nurse about two months after you were discharged from the hospital. I made sure that you had a job and that you would be safe. For the past year you've lived as Itou Ryou. We had no intention of ever interfering with your new life but unfortunately, circumstances have changed and I need to reactivate Weiß. I will not force you to go along with us. If you choose not to go with us after hearing what I have to say, then I will see to it that your memories are put back to sleep and you can return to being Itou Ryou. Am I making myself clear?”

 

Yohji nodded, blankly, trying to absorb everything that Mamoru had told him. Ken had to feel sorry for him. It was clear that while he tried to remember those events, a good chunk of his memory was a complete blank for the time being. Yohji didn't have a whole lot of choice except to just go along with them, but he didn't hesitate to make his displeasure known.

 

“We'll discuss this little God complex you've got going on at another time,” he warned Mamoru, making it clear that he was not going to just forget about the manipulations. “I want to know what is going on and where the hell Aya is. Why isn't he here? If you're bringing Weiß back on line, don't you think he should be part of it? Or is our illustrious leader too busy to join us?”

 

“Yohji, Aya is the mission,” Mamarou said softly.

 

The older man glared down at him, the coldness in those green eyes hinting that more than a year had not healed the anger that had driven him away in the first place. “I think you'd better explain things right now before I really start thinking that you're the one I shouldn't be trusting.”

Mamoru nodded, maintaining his calm façade. At least one of them needed to stay in control. “After the Koua Academy mission, you were deactivated and Ken took a leave of absence,” he explained, ignoring Ken's snort at his choice of words. “Aya remained…” He paused, as if looking for the right words. “Aya remained in the profession but not under Kritiker's control. He was targeted and badly injured. He's currently in a hospital in New York City under protection that I arranged, but that protection cannot be provided indefinitely and as for now I don't know who was behind the attack.”

 

Yohji made no comment at hearing that his old lover was hurt, but Ken caught the flash of pain in his eyes before the older man was able to mask it. He bit back a bitter smile, glad to see that at least some feelings were still there. Even long before the Koua mission, it had seemed as if Aya and Yohji's relationship had been damaged beyond repair. While the two of them had clearly tried to keep their dispute private, the rift between them was threatening to split all of Weiß apart.

 

“As we don't know who was behind the assault, any protection that we can provide Aya must come from outside of Kritiker. So far as anyone else in the organization knows, you and Ken are still inactive. I need for you to get to New York and protect Aya until I know who is behind this,” Mamoru concluded.

 

Yohji didn't say anything at once, his eyes fixed on Mamoru as if his old friend were some species of disgusting insect that he'd just discovered in the bathroom. The expression on Mamoru's face did not change, maintaining a cool and collected façade, but Ken got the definite feeling that he was not unaffected by the clear mistrust from his former teammates. Not that Mamoru had any right to blame them, since all of his efforts to protect them had been for naught and did nothing but cause them all more pain. But still… having those who had stood by your side for years not being able to trust you now had to hurt.

 

Yohji finally spoke, clearly trying to keep his voice calm and even. “Let's say that I believe you, that everything you're telling me is the truth and that what happened to Aya was in no way your fault. I want you to explain to me why you decided to suddenly wake me up if I was so happy. Did Aya tell you to?”

 

Ken winced, wishing that that particular subject could be put off a bit longer. Apparently Yohji had at least some clear memories of what had gone on between him and Aya and they were not happy ones. Neither he nor Ken knew the real reasons why Yohji's and Aya's relationship fell apart, but it was obvious that both men had been monumentally unhappy at the time. When Mamoru sent Yohji to Europe had been almost a blessing back then since it removed one of the sources of tension from the team.

 

Ken hated to admit it, but if he had been in Mamoru's shoes, he would have done the exact same thing. Even considering how close they all were, Mamoru probably didn't have much choice about considering Yohji expendable at the time. As painful as it was to admit, Aya was the valuable one to Weiß. The blond was just another agent, and a badly performing one at that. Aya had wasted too much time trying to cover up for Yohji's mistakes on their last few assignments, and the deterioration of their relationship had thrown Aya off of his game at a time when Weiß could not afford him to be so distracted.

 

“No, he didn't. Aya doesn't know that we are here,” Mamoru insisted. “I'm not going to lie to you, Yohji, but when I left New York his condition was still listed as critical. When I last checked with the hospital, he had stabilized somewhat, but has not regained consciousness. He nearly bled to death before help got to him.”

 

The older man did not comment immediately, as if trying to take a minute to process everything he was being told. He glared at Mamoru, not even making a bare attempt to hide his mistrust. Mamoru did not seem surprised when Yohji turned to Ken for confirmation. “You've been awfully quiet there, Hikada. Is he telling us the truth for once?”

 

Ken shrugged. “As far as I know, he's telling us the truth about Aya. I wasn't in New York, but I saw the reports. He was bad off, Yohji. And I don't trust anyone else to watch his back until he's on his feet. I guess that we can take care of that and then see what's going on.”

 

Yohji turned his attention back to Mamoru, clearly debating on what to do. There had to be the painful temptation to just turn his back and return to his amnesiac state, to just walk away from the pain that he knew was waiting for him. He didn't owe Takatori Mamoru anything.

 

But Ken knew that he would never be able to just completely walk away from Aya. He didn't know if Yohji could live with himself if he turned his back on Aya again. Somehow Ken knew that even if they wiped Yohji's memories clean again, he would still know what he'd done.

 

“One question,” Yohji demanded of his former friend, refusing to look at him directly. “Was I happy?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“With my… my wife,” he clarified, stumbling over the word as if the very concept of having a wife was alien to Yohji. “Was I happy with her?”

 

Mamoru sighed, appearing to Ken to understand that denying Yohji the truth would not make this easier. “At first, you seemed to be,” he granted. “But things have been rocky the last few months. She's been taking night shifts so you don't see each other much.”

 

Yohji nodded, seeming to accept that Takatori was being honest about that. “Who is she?”

 

“Her name is Itou Asuka.”

 

Yohji didn't react at first to the name. He stood there quietly as his mind seemed to struggle with the information, and then gave a painful laugh. “Asuka, huh? Must be some kind of cosmic joke. Unless you sent her to me,” he said pointedly to Mamoru.

 

Mamoru shook his head. “She had no connection to Kritiker in any way,” he assured his old friend. “She just happened to work in the hospital where you were taken. I can't say that I was unhappy to see you make a connection with her, but I didn't set anything up. It was just a happy coincidence.”

 

“Is there really any such thing?” Yohji wandered over to a small table in the corner that held several pictures in plain wooden frames. Several of them were of a young woman with dark hair and a small mole near her mouth, but those only similarities she had shared with the woman who had haunted him for so many years. There was only one picture of her posing with her husband. Yohji ran his hand through his hair, looking about the apartment again. “Well, if we're not happy she won't be too surprised if I just take off.”

 

Mamoru didn't respond to that assessment. “I'll make sure that she is taken care of financially,” he offered, hoping to soothe any concern that Yohji might have had for this innocent woman. “In a few weeks, she'll get notice of your death and a small life insurance policy you had with your employer. She won't have to worry about money and will be able to go on with her life.”

 

Yohji snorted, putting the picture down. “You think it's really that easy?” he demanded, clearly a little disgusted at how Mamoru seemed to think that by throwing a little money he could make the pain they were about to cause an innocent woman go away. He looked down at his hand, fingering the wedding ring before pulling it off of his finger and putting it down on the table. Ken watched him take a deep breath, as if reading himself to take a huge leap.

 

Yohji suddenly smiled, the glint in his green eyes so familiar of the man he had been when they first met. “Well, let's get moving,” he urged, allowing a hint of his familiar cockiness to show. “I've always wanted to see New York. And the sooner we pull Aya's ass out of trouble, the sooner we can hit the night spots.”

 

Ken forced a smile onto his face, trying to hide his unease. He did not miss the brittle sharpness in Yohji's smile, nor his seeming lack of concern about seeing his old lover again. It reminded him painfully of how Yohji acted before leaving for the Germany mission; all smiles and laughs when inside he was shattering. He hoped that he was wrong, because if he wasn't he didn't think Yohji would survive a second breaking.

 

Yohji's brittle good cheer faded as eyes went distant for a moment, the smile fading from his face. “I… there's something I need to bring with us,” he said before disappearing into the room that had been the bedroom he had shared with his wife. Ken wondered what it was that Yohji had remembered in there and followed his old friend. The older man was on his knees in front of a closet, wildly digging through the linens stored in there, tossing things out of his way onto the floor.

 

Wondering at what Yohji was trying to find, Ken knelt down at his side. “What are you looking for? Can I help?” he asked, but Yohji did not answer. He merely threw things aside before finding what he was looking for.

 

He pulled out something wrapped in an old sheet, bound in string. The expression on Yohji's face appeared to be one of surprise, and more than a little pain at finding the object. His hand shook ever so slightly as he untied the string and unwrapped the bundle. Ken looked at the object Yohji held in his hand and inhaled sharply. No wonder Yohji looked as if he had been struck.

 

He was holding Aya's katana.

 

Ken had never known what had become of his friend's weapon. Aya had it during that last mission, but emerged from the ruins of the academy without it. Ken had asked what happened to it, but Aya only said that he had lost it. Assuming that the weapon had been either lost or destroyed in the explosion, Ken had not questioned it further. Now it was obvious why Aya had accepted its loss so readily.

 

Yohji's hand gripped the scabbard tightly, his face gone pale as his eyes took on a distant quality. “I… I told Aya that I would find him. That I would bring it back to him. I told him…” His voice cracked as the sudden pain of just what he'd lost washed over him.

 

Ken stared at his friend as the full impact of what Yohji had said. He was going to rejoin Aya after the fight. Aya had given him his own weapon for the final battle. Which meant that Yohji had not to wanted to give up his memories in the end. Aya would never have surrendered his katana otherwise.

 

Perhaps it was a good thing that they would be leaving Japan soon. Because he didn't think that he could ever stand to be around Mamoru or anything remotely associated with Kritiker again without bloodshed being the result.

 

* * * *

 

Schuldig fought back a yawn, trying to refocus his attention on the task at had. Waking up Kudoh had taken more out of him that he would have expected, but then again he hadn't expected to have to shield himself from his kätzchen at the same time. When Aya realized that his mental attention was elsewhere, he had tried to see what Schuldig was up to. He still hadn't figured out just how Aya had suddenly developed telepathic abilities, but it was making his job just a bit more difficult.

 

Good thing that he remembered to remind der schwachköpfe to remember Aya's katana. That idiot certain could not be trusted to remember it on his own. If his poor schnuckel had to put up with his old lover coming to make a nuisance of himself, at the very least Kudoh should bring Aya's favorite weapon back. Seeing Aya with any other weapon just struck Schuldig as being unnatural. He supposed that was the very least Kudoh owed Aya for all the pain he'd caused his love.

 

He was not looking forward to having Kudoh around. The man was all but useless and would probably just end up mooning over Aya and bemoaning the injustice of his miserable life. And Schuldig would be hard pressed to think of something for Hidaka to do to keep him busy, considering the man had the IQ of a deranged orangutan. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and frankly he was feeling the strain of being so completely on guard. He needed to stand down, and soon.

 

Not the mention the definite lack of real sleep. He was able to doze every now and then, but needed to keep a mental “eye” out for any trouble. He would require a good amount of uninterrupted slumber in the not too distant future if he wanted to be of any use. Perhaps even with a long-limbed, violet-eyed bedmate to keep him warm in his dreams. Ah yes, that would certainly make the sleep deprivation worthwhile.

 

Speaking of long-limbed, violet-eyed potential bedmates… he had better finish washing Aya before the water got too cool. Aya had been very upset about not being bathed enough, and made sure that Schuldig had known of his displeasure. Personally, Schuldig thought that Aya was plenty clean and realistically, how dirty could he get just laying in bed? His slumbering kätzchen, however, had a very different opinion. The fastidious Japanese man was not satisfied with the perfunctory washing he'd received that morning, and complained often enough and loudly enough that Schuldig had no choice but to mentally coax one of the night nurses to bring a cartload of supplies to properly bathe Aya.

 

Apparently night nurses weren't as big on bedside manner as their day shift peers. Aya had suffered through her washing his hair, splashing his face with water before she moved on to wash his body. After watching her scrub at Aya's limbs like she was waxing a car and feeling Aya's annoyance at being treated like an unfeeling object, Schuldig shooed her out of the room, deciding to do the job himself.

 

Hardly a hardship he thought, as the task allowed him to put his hands all over Aya. All of his fantasies laid bare for him, and the reality certainly lived up to his rather vivid imagination. He gently ran the sponge over Aya's lower body, making sure to wash between his pretty long toes and up those nice muscular legs. Schuldig couldn't resist running a hand up that leg in the sponge's wake, liking the feel of Aya's skin against his hand. Aya had such nice legs, all lean muscles and just a light dusting of pale red hair over his calves.

 

Schuldig moved to wash his arms, paying careful attention to the armpits so that his kätzchen was clean and sweet smelling. Thankfully Aya had not been unconscious long enough to lose much in the way of muscle tone, allowing Schuldig to enjoy running his hands over the strong limbs, massaging gently in a way that he knew would be both pleasurable to Aya and help keep his muscles supple. He felt a faint purr from Aya, who certainly would never deign to admit that he found the touches pleasurable, but was unable to completely hide the fact that he was enjoying it. Schuldig paused in his task to take Aya's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

 

While having a compliant Aya to play with was fun, Schuldig wished that there might come a time when Aya did this willingly with him. When the caresses were accepted and returned, and Schuldig would feel those calloused hands running over his own body. But no, Aya would more than likely return to that ridiculous blond when Kudoh arrived in New York and he could do nothing to try to stop it. Well, he could at least enjoy his advantage while he still had it.

 

The water was still warm enough to finish bathing Aya. Gently lifting up the hem of the hospital gown covering him, Schuldig looked with poorly disguised hunger at Aya's most private parts. The Japanese man's cock lay quietly against his pale thighs, the nest of pubic hair a bit sparse and a shockingly bright red against his nearly white skin. Schuldig would have liked nothing better than to take Aya in his hand, to give him a little bit of pleasure but was prevented from doing so by the catheter protruding from the tip of Aya's cock, the tube trailing to connect to the bag clipped to the side of Aya's bed. Though the tubing spared Aya the humiliation of soiling himself, it was uncomfortable and Schuldig knew from his own experiences in a hospital bed that fooling with it would only hurt Aya.

 

The catheter was only one of numerous tubes violating Aya's body. He had been unconscious long enough that verwünscht doctors decided to insert a tube down Aya's nose so they could administer nutrition. IV lines punctured the skin of his arms and the back of his left hand, the pale skin around the needles turned dark with bruises as fluids and whatever medications the medical staff deemed necessary were injected into his bloodstream. Schuldig's eyes were drawn from Aya's genitals to the sutured wound on lower abdomen, the skin around the incision puffy and red. A tube ran from the wound to another collection bag, draining infection.

 

It had been a near thing, Schuldig realized. Once again he was struck by how close he had been to losing Aya completely. And the thought of his world without this infuriating, impossibly beautiful man was just too painful to consider. He supposed he could accept Aya in the arms of another if it meant that Aya would live. After all, he never got to enjoy Aya's charms for himself, so he supposed that he could survive without what he'd never had.

 

He was shaken from his woolgathering by a mental jab from Aya, who was getting impatient with being exposed and not completely clean. Forcing a lecherous grin on his face, he trailed his eyes back down Aya's body. Pity about all the equipment you've got here. We've got the perfect opportunity… a bed, a room all to ourselves and a night nurse who would much rather be reading that issue of Cosmopolitan she's got stashed away in her bag. We could have ourselves a little fun…

 

Bath. Now. Aya's command was clear and unmistakable.

 

Schuldig chuckled, dipping the sponge into the basin and wringing it out before returning to his task. You know, you're taking all the fun out of this.

 

He took mercy on the comatose man, washing the rest of his body quickly, lingering no longer than necessary over Aya's groin and up between his buttocks while making sure that he was perfectly clean before coving him up again.

 

Happy now? All clean and modesty restored. I think I deserve some sort of reward for this service, Schuldig thought, his mental voice teasing as he allowed Aya to feel just a hint of the lust he felt. How about a kiss?

 

How about I break your arm? Aya thought back, his patience with Schuldig's teasing apparently at an end. He might not be able to carry out his threat now, but once he was out of this bed…

 

Schuldig snorted, putting aside the bathing supplies to be picked up by the night orderly. Aya's mental communication was growing increasingly clear and he was not at all shy about making his demands known. Nice to see that he was just as obnoxious and pushy mentally and he was verbally. Of course, there was still the question about how he suddenly gained such an ability. Crawford had yet to give him a satisfactory answer, merely saying the he needed to investigate further.

 

Aya seemed to mentally settle, turning his attention to resting and healing and deliberately ignoring Schuldig's flirtations. The telepath sighed and tried to refocus his mind on his assigned task but it wasn't easy. He had less than twenty-four hours left alone with Aya. Soon enough, what was left of Weiß would arrive and he would have to step back and allow Kudoh to try and renew what he and Aya had shared.

 

Schuldig…

 

Sheiße! The man must have a sensor to alert him to whenever Schuldig was contemplating going against orders even in the smallest degree. Couldn't the control freak grant him just the least breathing room before butting in? There were times when he wished that he could just shred the link that they shared.

 

What? he demanded sharply, not bothering to try to hide his irritation.

 

Crawford's thoughts, as usual, were as cool and collected as the man always appeared to be. He's getting stronger, isn't he?

 

Well, he's in a decent hospital, so I guess he'd better be healing.

 

That's not what I meant, Crawford corrected. His telepathy. I've been getting very lucid thoughts from him along our link. He's communicating much more clearly.

 

Schuldig wasn't at all surprised to see just how closely Crawford was keeping tabs on their charge. Ja, he is. Still don't know how he's doing it. He's initiating more of our conversations, telling me what he wants. This doesn't make sense. He's not a telepath.

 

No, he isn't, Crawford agreed, for once granting that Schuldig was correct about something. I'm still looking into exactly what he is. Unquestionably, he has some sort of talent that is now manifesting itself but it's not one that I've seen before. I've asked Nagi to investigate Esset's records to see if there are any clues there.

 

If Crawford was willing to take the risk of looking into Esset's files, he had to be completely stumped, Schuldig considered. While Nagi was one of the best hackers around, Esset's security would make the most covert government agencies green with envy. Trying to hack into their files from the outside was beyond risky and he was a little surprised to learn that Crawford was willing to risk Nagi, especially given all the trouble they'd had inserting him into Kritiker.

 

There is so much that I just can't see yet, Crawford warned, annoyance coloring his thoughts. All that I am certain of is that whatever is going to happen, Fujimiya is at the center of it. We need to handle him carefully.

 

Well, I'll make sure not to break him when I play with him, Schuldig promised. Should I put a `fragile' sticker on his forehead?

 

Schuldig, stop fooling around for once, Crawford snapped. I'm being serious, in case it failed to meet your notice. I'm no closer to finding answers for us, so please spare me your games.

 

The mental outburst took Schuldig by surprise. For as long as he'd known Crawford, he could count the times on one hand that he personally witnessed the precog's legendary patience fray. Even with matters spiraled completely out of control, he could be depended upon to keep his head and lead them through the danger.

 

None of this is making sense, Crawford insisted. I've done a thorough search on Fujimiya's background after our first confrontation and there is nothing in his or his family that would explain why they would be of interest to Esset. One or two minor latent talents over the years, but nothing to hint that a major talent would emerge from that family. Certainly not enough to draw Esset's attention to Fujimiya and his sister or to explain how a major talent like this would escape Esset's control for so long.

 

Isn't he a little old to suddenly be showing an ability like that? Schuldig asked. Most Talents were fully manifested by the time one was in their early teens. Schuldig's telepathy had become apparent at the ripe age of twelve, and Nagi had been even younger when his ability developed. Schuldig had never heard of a talent manifesting so late in life.

 

It is unusual, Crawford granted, the irritation at not having all the answer readily at hand clearly apparent. But it's not completely unknown. If they survive the awakening, the late developing talents are sometimes among the strongest. It's very possible that his latent ability is what allowed Fujimiya to fight us as effectively as he had. However, it doesn't explain why his talent has suddenly become active or just what abilities he will have.

 

So, you think that Esset are the ones after him? Schuldig asked, hoping that Crawford would assure him that they were not. Even though its power was diminished, Esset still had a very long and dangerous reach.

 

Crawford gave a mental sigh, again not bothering to hide his frustration. I don't know, he admitted reluctantly. Maybe. After the debacle with their foolish ritual and then the academy, the main body of the organization was left pretty much in tatters. Unfortunately they are still enough of a presence to be a problem for us. If I'm right and Fujimiya is a major talent, then we have to assume that Esset might be involved.

 

Wonderful. Just what I needed to hear, Schuldig groaned. Not entirely unexpected news, but not news that he was happy to hear confirmed. So what are we going to do?

 

Right now, continue doing what we have been. I don't see any danger to us for at least a little bit. The Weiß operatives will arrive shortly and there's no sign of anything happening before that.

 

While he felt more than a bit of relief that there was no immediate danger facing them, he could easily have done without Crawford's reminder that his time with Aya alone was coming to an end. You really enjoy digging the knife in, don't you? he snapped, not bothering to try to hide his peevishness.

 

Schuldig was surprised to feel a thread of sympathy coming from the other man. I'm sorry that I have to keep bringing it up, but I see how attached you are to Fujimiya. You know that…

 

I know! Schuldig mentally snarled, cutting the other man's thoughts off. You've told me often enough that I don't have a chance with Aya. Damn, do you enjoy reminding me over and over?

 

I never said that you wouldn't have a chance with him, Crawford corrected, his thoughts calm in the face of Schuldig's anger. As irrational as it seems, you have some connection with Fujimiya that I would be hard pressed to explain or understand. But that doesn't change the reality of what needs to happen. If you want to keep him alive, please don't fight me on this.

 

Schuldig inhaled deeply, trying to tamp down the anger. He looked at Aya's quiet form, taking in the lines of his beautiful face and knowing that despite his intrinsically selfish nature, there was no way that he could allow harm to come to this glorious creature. No one would ever accuse Schuldig of having even a trace of selflessness in him, but for some reason when it came to Aya, he would find himself acting far for his typical norms.

 

You're asking a lot of me. You know that, Schuldig reminded him.

 

He heard Crawford mentally sigh, and felt a trace of genuine regret coming from his leader. I wouldn't ask this of you if the stakes weren't so incredibly high. If I thought for an instant that allowing you to see your infatuation with Fujimiya through would not hinder our goals, I would have no qualms over the matter. But too much rides on this. Please Schuldig… if you've ever trusted me on anything…

 

Schuldig wished that Crawford's argument had been a shade less convincing. Unfortunately, he knew better than anyone else just how accurate the clairvoyant's visions could be. The man had seen them through hell and fire more times that he cared to count. Crawford might come across as cold and unfeeling, but the man had shown a frighteningly single-minded determination to see Esset destroyed and the lot of them with their freedom. And as much as he hated to admit it, he owed Crawford far too much.

 

Through their link, Schuldig could get a good sense of Crawford's emotional state and he could easily pick up on the near desperation of the clairvoyant. There was no deception there, and Schuldig knew that he had little choice but to go along. He could not risk the penalties for defying this command.

 

Taking Aya's hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly, he sent a silent thought of acquiescence to Crawford. He didn't trust himself to try to voice the thought; it hurt too much to finally give up on what he'd desired for so very long.

 

Schuldig, I promise you that you will not regret your decision, Crawford assured him. It may not seem it now, but…

 

Crawford, please. I promised to go along with this, haven't I? Just leave it alone, Schuldig requested, struggling to hide his emotions from the other man. Let Crawford think that he was just upset at losing his toy and hopefully not suspect that his anger over this went far deeper.

 

Thankfully Crawford was nothing if not tactful and could respect the wishes of another if it didn't go against his carefully established plans. Now that he had what he needed from Schuldig, there was no need to drag out his subordinate's discomfort. Schuldig felt a wave of genuine sympathy come from the other man before the connection on their link was quietly ended.

 

Schuldig took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to regain control over his feelings so as not to disturb Aya's rest. He could only be grateful that he had been able to shield the mental communication from the sleeping man. Let Aya continue to believe that Schuldig's interest in him was merely lustful rather than something more intimate. Bad enough that Crawford probably suspected, but he didn't know what he would do if Aya himself ever found out.

 

For now, all he could do was watch and wait and prepare himself for the inevitable. He had learned long ago that he rarely got what he truly wanted. It just never hurt quite so much as now.

 

TBC