Warnings: Violence, Gore, Horror, Slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of its characters.

AN: Thanks to all reviewers (who are individually addressed at the end of the chapter), and I apologize for the delay. This may well be the longest chapter I've ever posted; hopefully that will make up for it a little bit.

Oh and in case it isn't obvious, Gluhen doesn't exist for the purposes of this fic…

I would like to give a special thanks to Moonraven, for reading so much of my stuff and pointing out the nasty bits. Anything left that doesn't make sense is strictly my fault!!

Gerechtigkeit für die Toten

Chapter 2

by Xellas M.

Ken woke up, trembling and gasping for air. Deciding that another attempt at enjoying the healing powers of sleep would be a waste of his time, he glanced at his bedside clock. The large red display told him it was 6:00. Good. At least only four hours had been wasted in his pathetic attempt to escape nightmares by having them. Well, he'd certainly had them and they had been filled with life-sized human dolls, staring at him through fake glass eyes but touching him with real human skin.

He staggered down to the kitchen to brew a very strong cup of tea, hoping the caffeine would revive him enough so that he wouldn't fall asleep in the shower. He paused for a moment in the doorway to gather his strength. Omi and Youji were already there, apparently finishing up their dinner. Who in their right minds ate eggs and bacon at night anyway? It had to have been Youji's idea; it was, after all, the green-eyed man's favorite Western-style breakfast. Usually, Ken admired the way his teammate was able to do whatever he chose, whenever he chose, without so much as a passing nod to convention. Sometimes, though, the playboy was just plain weird.

And other times, like now, when the tall man was leaning back arrogantly in his chair, ogling the oblivious Omi (or more specifically the younger man's ass) as the younger man cleared the table… Ken sighed. Ever since the youngest Weiss had turned 18, Youji had been giving the blue-eyed young man open looks of pure predatory lust more and more frequently. It was only a matter of time before the playboy tried something. The soccer coach had been intending to have a friendly chat with Omi to warn him, but it kept slipping his mind. Maybe he'd get a chance now; Youji never stuck around long when there were dishes to be washed.

Tea. He had wanted tea. With an effort, Ken pushed off the wall and walked into the bright kitchen.

"Ken-kun! You look terrible! You should go back to bed." Omi ran up to him and if the look on the blue-eyed man's face was any indication, Ken looked every bit as awful as he felt.

"Nah, I'm OK. I just need some tea." It took every bit of effort in him not to snap. Omi didn't deserve that, Ken knew he didn't, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to take any more questions before caffeine. Idly, he wondered if this was what it felt like to be Youji working a morning shift…

"Well, 'guess I'd better go. Don't want to be late!" The resident slacker said as he stood up to leave. The soccer coach noticed as the green-eyed man passed Omi, his eyes flickered downwards for one last visual groping of the young genius' ass and he actually licked his lips. Ken decided then and there that The Talk was going to happen sooner rather than later.

Youji unknowingly reinforced this decision as he turned back to the smaller blond and said casually, "Take your time, Chibi. I'll keep the ladies busy until you get there." Apparently the playboy had finally succeeded in convincing Omi to join him at one of his infamous clubs, where he would ply the unsuspecting innocent with drinks and have his wicked way with him.

"Thanks, Youji." Omi's reply was warm and grateful.

The older assassin finally gone, Omi turned to Ken and said sweetly, "Ken-kun, why don't you sit down? I'll get you some tea." Before the exhausted man could come up with a suitable reply, he was maneuvered into an empty chair.

"Omi-kun, we have to talk."

"Yes, Ken-kun? What is on your mind?" Damn, the man was so open, so childlike! The athlete felt a surge of resentment against Youji.

"It's about Youji."

Omi stiffened, then began moving more briskly, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove. "What about him?"

If there was a diplomatic way to put this, as tired as he was, it was beyond Ken. "He wants you."

"For what?" Came the innocent reply, although a light blush stained the college student's cheeks. Apparently, he had understood well enough, but didn't believe it.

"I mean, he's attracted to you. Very attracted."

A dull crash as the teacup Omi had been carrying dropped to the floor. His face now bright red, the younger man picked it up and examined it carefully. "No damage." He reported, then continued in a voice that tried its hardest to be casual. "What makes you think that?"

"He's been - looking at you. All the time. Please, you're just going to have to trust me on this one."

By now, red didn't even begin to adequately describe the crimson glow emanating from Omi's face. "Yeah, well, you know him. It doesn't mean anything."

"This time it does. I haven't seen him like this in well, *ever*. Just promise me you're going to be careful around him, OK?"

The whistle of the teakettle cut into their conversation with a shrill cry for attention. Omi poured the steaming liquid into the teacup and placed it in front of Ken.

"Thanks for the warning." The athlete couldn't quite place it, but there was definitely an odd tone to Omi's voice. "I'd better get going now, you know how it is when Youji tries to open the shop by himself. If I don't get there soon, there won't be any flowers left for the paying customers!"

Open the shop?

It was 6 o'clock in the morning?

Then…he had slept for 18 hours straight!

"Ken-kun, you really don't look well. Why don't you lie down awhile longer? Whatever this bug you have is, I don't think the rest of us want to catch it."

"Hai." He agreed weakly, still trying to reconcile the fact that he had been out cold for almost an entire day. He watched, dazed, as Omi left. He started to turn back to his tea, only to be distracted by the sight of a growing crimson stain spreading along his left arm and shoulder through his white t-shirt. A wave of dizziness and nausea rendered him helpless to do anything other than watch as blood seeped through the thin material to drip onto the floor.

Eventually, aware that he would die of blood loss if he did not call for help, he managed a hoarse cry to the only member of Weiss remaining in the house.

"Aya!" It was not very loud, but Ken heard Aya moving rapidly through the hall and to the stairs almost immediately.

The redhead's pace slowed as he neared the kitchen doorway and it was with his natural caution that he carefully looked inside.

A normal man would have had to roll his eyes or sigh loudly in exasperation to communicate the same sentiment Aya expressed with a brief "Hn".

Ken blinked in surprise. Of course he had known Aya was an uncaring bastard, but blowing off a teammate bleeding to death at their kitchen table seemed a bit harsh, even for him. In fact, given how badly the brown-haired man was hurt, it was surprising that he hadn't passed out already. He glanced down again at his shirt.

Not so much as a single crimson droplet, anywhere.

He swallowed heavily, now absolutely convinced that he was losing his mind. Would he end up like Berserker? He shivered at the thought. He pinched himself, hard enough to leave a mark. To his utter relief, it hurt so badly that it brought tears to his eyes and a small cry to his lips.

A dry cough from the doorway reminded him of Aya's presence.

One benefit to being perceived as an idiot is that it is always fairly easy to come up with an excuse for just about anything.

"Good morning! Hey, I was just wondering…do you know if I have a shift at the shop this afternoon? I was hoping to run a few errands, if I'm not needed." Ken blurted out quickly, as though he always called up the stairs for Aya rather than check their schedule.

"You're not working tonight." The redhead's response sounded more like a judgment than an answer to Ken's question.

"Aa. Well, thanks!" The younger man smiled brightly.

Instead of turning and leaving immediately as would have been expected, Abyssinian stared hard at his teammate for a few moments. It was evident that he surprised even himself by adding, "Is there something you need to tell me, Ken?"

The athlete's throat suddenly became very, very dry. If Aya suspected that anything was wrong, the consequences could be humiliating personally and catastrophic professionally. He tried his best to answer casually. "No, why?"

"Hn." The grunt could have indicated either agreement or only mere acceptance, but whichever it was, Ken had achieved the desired result. Aya left.

Hands shaking, Ken turned around and reached for his teacup, only to find that the liquid had iced over. He tipped the cup upside down in disbelief, shaking it until its contents hit the table with a solid thump. Examining the cup itself produced nothing unusual, except that the ceramic had cracked from the rapid change in temperature.

The poor assassin groaned. These were Omi's favorite teacups and he was going to have a fit when he found out, especially after this particular one had survived a fall Ken knew had also been indirectly his fault. Things really couldn't get much worse.

But, of course, they did. When Ken next looked up, he found Professor Gewissenhaft, ghostly wounds and all, staring at him through hollow eyes.

Trying his best to ignore the specter, the frightened man sat and desperately attempted to think. Although a large part of him wanted to call out again for Aya, or better yet run up the stairs to the older assassin's room, but that idea was out. He originally had intended to shower, but Ken definitely was not going to do THAT with the angry undead following him around. No way in hell - he had seen too many movies to fall for that one, thank you very much. OK, so he smelled bad and felt even worse, but he'd take a little dirt and sweat over playing the lead role in a bad Hitchcock remake any day.

What he really needed was to calm down, to clear his mind and clear it fast because he was starting to believe in his own delusions, especially the one standing just on the other side of the table. He should relax and do something normal. Then he would remember that there were no such things as ghosts.

* * * * *

After he had jogged a few miles, the athlete silently congratulated himself on how well his plan had worked. The natural endorphin high that came from running long distances had kicked in and he was finally beginning to unwind. He was still sweaty, true, but it was the good, clean sweat of activity rather than the sour-smelling evidence of fear. The events of the past day or so were only a fluke, a reaction to stress, probably caused by his recent hit-or-miss attitude to his daily workout regimen.

He felt so much better that he decided to stop by the flower shop and see if Youji would like anything for lunch. Omi would have left for classes hours ago, shortly after the fangirls. While it was no problem for a single person to handle normal business, whoever ended up taking the long shift often missed at least one meal.

Ken threw open the door with almost every bit of his old energy. "Youji-kun!"

"Be right out…" Came the older man's response from the back room. Even though the heavy scent of flowers hid the immediate evidence, the athlete knew exactly what his co-worker was up to.

He waited until Youji sauntered back to the front, and then teased, "Smoking in the shop again? Aya's gonna kill you!"

A very smug expression settled itself on the taller man's face. This did not bode well. Youji only wore that expression when making an especially snide remark. Few had ever managed a satisfactory comeback after a comment delivered alongside that particular expression.

"Well, Kenken, it's a good thing *I'm* not the one who lives and dies by Aya's opinion then, isn't it?"

Fuck. He knew. Mentally, Ken added several points to Youji's scorecard.

The brown-eyed man was still trying to come up with a suitable reply (he certainly was not going to bring innocent Omi into this) when the blond rubbed it in.

"Never mess with a smoker getting his fix, Kenken. It's unhealthy, you know."

Ken was just about to point out the obvious dangers involved with inhaling a mix of various addictive chemicals, when he looked into green eyes and realized that interfering with the bond between an addict and said chemicals could be even more dangerous.

The bell above the shop door rang, ensuring that the athlete would not have the chance to figure out a good way to insult Youji in return.

"Youji-kun! Ken-kun! Where's Aya? We need to talk, now." Omi walked in, bouncing and smiling merrily as was normal for him, but a gleam in his blue eye indicated that something serious had happened.

"Aya's upstairs in his room, I think." Youji replied. His body language had shifted subtly; the real laziness of a few minutes ago had become a mere pretense.

"Could you get him please? I'm afraid we are going to have to close the shop early today." Coming from Omi, it sounded like a request and not an order. Still, the eldest assassin nodded and practically ran to get the missing team member.

"Ken, what are you doing out of bed?" The student sighed. "Never mind, it's just as well, you need to hear this too. Let's close up."

Ken swallowed against his sudden premonition that he was not going to like whatever Omi had to say and nodded his agreement. He went to the front door, flipped the sign to "CLOSED" and locked it, telling himself the entire way that it was definitely not getting colder in the shop and that the strange feeling he had of being watched was entirely his imagination.

"Why aren't you in class, anyway?" The soccer coach asked, hoping to divert his thoughts. He grabbed a mop and began following Omi, who was sweeping the floor.

"That's what we need to talk about, Ken-kun. Classes were canceled today out of respect for the deceased." Omi paused in his sweeping to look up, worry written clearly across his features. "They found Professor Gewissenhaft."

"What? How!?" Krikiter's cover-ups were flawless. It was unheard of for a body to be found after Krikiter had decided it would remain hidden. Both the cold in the atmosphere and the strange feeling intensified until the shaken man was desperately fighting the urge to turn around and see who was behind him. Sternly, he reminded himself that no one was. He had locked the door himself.

"That's what we need to find out." Omi replied, his voice as serious as it ever became.

The prickling on the back of Ken's neck intensified and he gave in, whirling around. The apparition was back, and this time it grinned at him mockingly.

"There! Omi! Do you see that!?" The athlete pointed at the specter, not daring to look away even to see his teammate's reaction.

"What, Ken? Is something wrong with the roses?" Omi sounded confused and Ken risked a glance. The shorter man was looking in the right place; in fact he should have been staring right at the ghost, but obviously didn't see a thing.

Ken turned back around, fully expecting the ghost to have disappeared again. Instead, it had moved, coming several feet closer in the fraction of a second the athlete's head had been turned. Barely an inch of space now lay between its carved up chest and the assassin's finger.

He wanted to scream, but did not dare. The last thing he needed was for his own team to send him to Krikiter's Psych department.

"U-um…ne-never mind. My mi-mistake." Ken stammered.

Omi shrugged and resumed cleaning. Shaking, Ken followed as best he could.

* * * * *

Ken descended the stairs to the mission room with great relief. Weiss was strong as a team; when they were together almost anything seemed possible. He took particular comfort from the fact that Aya was already sitting on the downstairs couch. Ken sat as close to him as he possibly could without anything seeming unusual. He scanned the room and didn't find the slightest sign of anything remotely freaky or unnatural. Apparently the ghost could not follow him down here.

Omi walked over to the computer desk. A worried frown had spread across his normally cheerful face. From what Ken had already heard, this was going to be a considerable headache to the one who had taken over Persia's responsibilities. He definitely did not envy the younger man.

Bombay did not waste any time. He swiveled in his chair to face the group and began speaking, his voice unusually low and quiet.

"I'm only sure of two things. One: someone spread rumors around the college that something had happened to Professor Gewissenhaft, that he hadn't simply gone away on vacation. Two: The body appeared today in a science lab, in very strange circumstances."

Omi quickly pulled a chip from his digital camera, inserted it into the computer, and projected the image on the screen. The Professor's body was lying naked on a lab table. His eyes hade been carefully removed and small incisions made at key points on his body. All the wounds from Ken's bugnuks had been carefully sewn shut.

The computer genius clicked the mouse and the angle shifted, showing that many of the major organs had been removed and thrown in a small sink.

"Obviously, whoever did this was interrupted, but there's no question that whoever it was, he or she was an accomplished taxidermist."

Ken shivered. Weiss had taken care of any number of dark beasts, but this case had officially now gone off the top of the Creep-O-Meter. "How did they find the body?"

Omi nodded. "That is exactly the question we need answered. One possibility is that someone within Krikiter has leaked information."

Youji whistled. "If that's the case, this could get really ugly."

The youngest team member nodded agreement. "Which is why we're going to discount all other possibilities, first. We will need to figure out who did *that* to the corpse and why. I'm going to need your help."

"Aren't we suspects?" Aya asked, dryly.

Omi smiled and for the first time since he had returned home, his smile really was the warm and cheerful one they were all accustomed to seeing. "Yes, Aya-kun, technically you are all suspects. However, I just can't bring myself to believe any of you had anything to do with this. And before you lecture me," The computer genius held up a hand before the redhead could even begin to speak, "if I don't trust someone, sometime, I'll end up insane. I trust you guys, and that's final."

"What would you like us to do?" Ken asked. Anything to end this nightmare.

"Did any of you notice anything unusual about this mission?"

Ken felt Omi's eyes boring into him as he asked the question. What was he supposed to say? That the target had been haunting him for the past couple of days?

"Nothing." It was all the athlete *could* say.

The others echoed the sentiment.

Bombay sighed. "Oh well, it was worth a try. I'll go over the files tonight and make sure we haven't missed anything and keep you guys posted."

* * * * *

After the briefing, all of Weiss, with the exception of Youji who was going out, gathered in the living room. It was a relatively new development for them, that they would choose to share the same space even though they almost never shared the same activity. Aya read downstairs now more often than in his own room; he had ever since Aya-chan had woken up. Omi worked on his downstairs computer, which he claimed was faster than the others in the house. Ken watched TV, soccer when it was available of course.

The familiarity of the setting and the presence of the silent redhead allowed Ken to feel safe. Whatever was happening was only in his mind. The athlete was optimistic enough to hope that since the case was now reopened, his subconscious would stop playing tricks on him. It wasn't long before his sense of comfort lulled him into a deep sleep.

* * * * *

Ken stirred uneasily, nervous. He was finally getting ready for his first real date with Aya. Every detail had to be perfect! He glanced over at his bed, nodding in satisfaction at the shiny plastic cover he had placed over the bedspread. Aya would be lying there later, naked, and it wouldn't do for the sheets to be ruined.

Satisfied that his room was in order, he began to get dressed. He put on his clothes with great care, making sure everything was just right, that there were no stains or wrinkles. Halfway through the process he realized that was putting on his full assassin gear, but it didn't seem strange. Aya would understand. He set his goggles on top of his head carefully, and then stepped into his boots.

He smiled at his reflection, which grinned darkly back. Definitely dressed to kill. He had almost turned to go when he realized with dismay that there was something he'd forgotten. His heart skipped a beat at his near mistake. The very least the redhead deserved was that his date came prepared! Ken reached into his closet and pulled out his bugnuks. Shaking his head at his own forgetfulness, he pulled them on. He flexed his hands and let out a sigh of relief when the spotless blades flashed in the light.

All set, he grabbed the small box that contained his special present for the redhead and went to the door. As a last check, he lifted the lid of the gift box, checking to make sure nothing had happened to its contents. Carefully using one of the long knives attached to his gloves, he parted the red tissue paper to search for the present inside.

Two perfect eyes stared up at him. Somehow Ken knew he'd had to special order them weeks in advance to get glass eyes in just that shade of violet.

* * * * *

Gasping, Ken woke up. Only Omi was still awake, clicking through every shred of information Krikiter had collected on the Professor. On hearing Ken, the blond turned around.

"Where's Aya?" The athlete asked, immediately. He felt sick to his stomach. That dream…he had been going to kill Aya, to stuff him into some kind of life-sized doll for his own entertainment.

"He went to bed a couple of hours ago, Ken."

Ken tried to convince himself it was silly to feel so unsettled because of the redhead's absence. After all, there wasn't much a katana could do to a ghost, especially if it was just a figment of his own delusional imagination. The best thing to do was to wrap up the loose ends of the case quickly and put the whole thing behind him.

"How is your research going?"

Omi sighed. "Nothing new, no matter how hard I look. I'm afraid we're going to have to do some hands-on investigation."

* * * * *

~End Chapter 2

To Be Continued

Stefi: I completely agree! There isn't enough horror, or anything else aside from pure romance (which is great, don't get me wrong) out there. I'm really glad you enjoyed the first part and hope you like the rest as well…

Sky Rat: *blushes* Thanks! I'm sorry this update was so slow, I had the next chapter of Insight to get out and I also kinda hit a bit of writers' block along the way. I really hope to have this out more quickly from now on!

kasugai gummie: I'm very glad you like it. *beams proudly* I will do my best not to disappoint!

Krysana: *LOL* I'm sorry, I just think soccer has a few too many rules for Tasuki-chan. ^__^ Can't you hear it? *whistle* 'Genrou! No burning your opponents to cinders!!! Penalty!' And er…oops, Ken didn't describe Aya as flaky - Ken was thinking that Aya would describe KEN as flaky. I'm still trying to figure out how to fix that one, no da… Can we just say the author is flaky and leave it there until I come up with something better?

Aikawa Fuuko: Um, this probably doesn't count as soon…gomen, ne?

Romennar: I hope this chapter was just as good…poor Kenken…

Ashen Skies: *blushes* Wow, thank you very much! And I promise there WILL be Aya/Ken action, on my honor as a hentai fangirl. ^___^

Moonraven: *glomp* You read with your eyes closed? Hn…I wonder if that's enough to get ya into Schwarz these days? hehe And thanks so much for asking, I'd forgotten I'd never translated the title (it is now, in the summary). I could spend another page and a half thanking you for everthing else, especially making sure this - and Insight - was postable, but I guess I'll hafta settle for a big *HUG* for now.

Space Cat: Hiya!! Hope all's well - when do we get to see your Tas/Chi, hey? Er, I'm not supposed to lecture here, am I…oops! hehe Anyway, sorry about the Youji/Omi…I do like the pairing (though not as much as Youji/Ran) and it has been planned into the story before I even sat down to start. I don't plan on giving them a lemon if that helps…hope you manage to continue to enjoy anyway!