Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Guilty Pleasures ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Title: Guilty Pleasures (8/?)

Author: Phaedra

Email: pkabyssinian@yahoo.com

Rating: R~ish, maybe NC-17~ish.

Disclaimer: Dammit! I still don't own anything that is even remotely connected to Weiss. If only the darling Koyasu-sama would take pity on me and share. *whimper*

Author Notes: Well, a forever and a half later I've churned out more on this. Part of the kick to the seat this time was the fact that I realize I've dragged this on for over a year. The other part is the wonderful people who keep encouraging me to finish this beast. Thanks!!

There are spoilers for Gluhen in this chapter and in the next one. Expect anything from episode 9 on to be fair game to grace these pages. Chee. =)

One last note: I only know the animes. I have little to no knowledge of the drama cds so I make shit up. I think it's known as artistic license? ;)

[Schuldich, 15 months from now]

I'm miserable in this leaky little flat that Crawford has chosen to hide us in. Not that I want to sound ungrateful, but living in a slum apartment, one bedroom I might add, with Brad and Nagi is enough to try anyone's patience. Even one so saintly as myself. I really have to smirk at the thought. At least I'm lucky enough to have tonight be my night for the bedroom. In order to keep us from loosing our already short tempers Brady-poo came up with the brilliant idea that we would rotate through the privacy of the bedroom.

On these nights I like to take stock in how my life has turned to such a shit pile. Isn't that happy and optimistic of me? Kritiker has at least managed to keep us alive, and Brad has hidden our money so that Estet can't track us that way. Three months ago, when our original contract expired I had thought that we would return to Japan. You see how well that has worked. Brad fanatically negotiated a new, long-term contract that will keep us hidden in the greatest hellholes of Europe for quite a while yet.

The worst part is that there is limited (read no) contact with Weiss. Aya and I had almost three weeks together before we were shipped out, eighteen days of near bliss. For the first week we barely left the bed. Stop thinking dirty thoughts, that's my department; he was grilling me on what my teammates and I were capable of. I was lucky enough that he didn't run screaming from the room at any point during our 'conversations', nor did he attempt homicide when the subject of his sister was brought up. Damn, did I get lucky or what?

We did, of course, spend our 'down time' pursuing far more pleasurable pursuits. It began as simple sex and then it changed. We cared about it and about each other. How fucking sad is that? So, not only have I been miserable I've also been celibate. Go ahead, laugh yourself silly.

Nagi is in constant contact with Persia, and they are growing closer, like brothers. Which means that little shit had better not try to screw me out of anything. Twice I've been able to bribe the brat to carry a message to my Aya. Only once has a reply been forthcoming and it wasn't anything that I wanted to hear. Damn Abyssinian sent back a curt message that warned me not to send such foolish, risky, unimportant mail. Fuck him. Hmmm… wouldn't I like to!

So I've been working on my telepathy. There are times when I swear I can feel him. We built a mental bridge during those eighteen days as well, until I could sift through his mind as if it were my own. Now I can, maybe, pick up stray emotions if I concentrate hard enough to give myself a migraine. Other than that, no contact.

Brad, when he's feeling particularly kind, tells me what he sees of Aya in visions. He, unlike the rest of us, insists on calling him Ran. I think it's just one more way to be a prick. He's going to be teaching children soon and his hair is gloriously long. At least I know he's keeping that one trivial promise. Makes a boy feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He hasn't forgotten me.

A pounding at the door pulls me from my reverie. That fucking Nagi had better not need a god damned thing from in here. He's known for the last 48 hours that the room will be mine tonight and not to fuck with me. Not since the last time.

Out of all of us I am the least changed. I still have my natural hair color; I might dress a little more flamboyantly than I used to. Brad has begun bleaching his hair and he hasn't needed to use his glasses since the… thing… that happened with him and Farfarello. I don't understand it, but I swear I can see Farfarello peering out from Brad's eyes at times. And Crawford's normally brown eyes will bleed to Farfie's golden yellow. It's fucking spooky! Nagi has simply grown up, gotten taller, his voice deeper now than we ever expected.

"Schuldich, open this fucking door… right god-damn now!" Brad bellows at me. Brad? At the door? On a night when he knows it's my room? Will wonders never cease? I wonder if this is important or if there is something massively wrong with Crawford.

I open the door a fraction of an inch, just enough for me to see the glint of Brad's monocle. How fucking gay does he look? I snort at the idea of Craw-daddy trying out the foppish look. His face could be chiseled in stone for all the emotion that he betrays but I can feel the nervous tension bleeding off of him. Something must be wrong. But I really can't take Mr. Gay-boy seriously when he's got the ruffled collar on along with the slicked back hair. I swear he stole that hairstyle from the blond brat in the Harry Potter movie. Not that I watched it… Nagi wanted to see it. Really.

"Dad, I know it's bedtime but I swear I'll turn the lights out in a minute…" I whine then slam the door shut. Risky, but then I don't really think he'll up the ante. I wait for a moment then crack the door again. Crawford is gone and I smirk. Pussy.

I close the door and flop back onto the bed. This bed is spongy and has no support; I don't know what's worse… sleeping on the couch or on this piece of shit. Probably the couch since I'm too tall for it. I dig my shoulders into the abysmal mattress and try to relax my mind. Seriously, I'm bound and determined to give myself a migraine searching for Aya. One of these days I'll be able to reach his mind no matter what. Ye little gods, I'm a sucker!

Just as I settle in the door splinters under extreme force. Fucking Crawfish had the fucking telekinetic boy wonder destroy my door! This is the kind of shit they do in grade school. I grin; realizing this is my kind of move and not at all like our dear, esteemed leader. Farfie must really be getting to him.

"Did the door offend your delicate sensibilities Nagster?" I coo at the boy. Crawford is actually turning red with rage as Nagi levels his disquietingly blank stare at me. This kid is serious fucked up in the brains department… he can level a building with a thought but can't interact among social equals. Ah, isn't it great that we brought him up right?

"Fuck off, Schuldich. Stop being petty and moping over Abyssinian," Nagi says finally, his voice as devoid of expression as his face. The three of us have been working so closely together we are all interconnected in strange psychic ways. Nagi seems to be able to tap into our powers in a way that shouldn't be possible and Brad's visions leave me with blinding headaches. I get the added bonus of having my ability to project my thoughts much farther than normal and on rare occasions I can use a strange blend of telepathy and telekinesis. I do so now, giving the brat a mental nudge that actually knocks him off balance.

"Stop playing. We're in serious trouble. Epitaph has found us, we need to get out of here now," Brad tells us. I actually stop the fight I'm picking with Nagi and focus my attention on fearless leader.

"I thought you said that there was no way Estet could track us?" I growl at Brad, accusation heavily lacing my voice.

"You know that Epitaph and Estet are different," Nagi chides, his overly long bangs falling into his eyes and interrupting the staring match I'm trying to have with him.

"If we're lucky they'll only send Rosenkreuz agents after us. Our contacts are dead or gone so we have to leave with what we've got," Crawford continues as if no one else had spoken. Gotta love a man who jumps to the heart of the matter and ignores the rest of us.

"So, what do you propose? Do you have a contingency plan to get us out of here? Where will we go next? Italy?" I ask, not really caring where we're headed. It really sucks that this is happening now.

"Our escape route is known to Epitaph already. We're going to have to do something else," Crawford tells me, grabbing my shoulder hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make me realize the importance of what he's about to tell me. Oh shit.

"So, what do you propose?" I scoff; terrified to touch his mind and pull the information to me. Whatever it is I want it to be spoken aloud to make it more real, that way it will have the weight it deserves to make me this uneasy.

"I want you and Nagi to work together to teleport us," Crawford says clearly, enunciating each word. I raise my eyebrows, not only at the suggestion but also by the fact that Nagi has turned pale and looks vaguely upset.

"You'll kill us all, Braddy-kins. You know we've only talked about the theory of that being possible," I growl, nervous and on edge.

"Well, we either die trying to get away or wait tamely for our deaths. We are survivors; we are climbing the evolutionary ladder. I don't relish the thought that you and Prodigy will scatter our bodies and consciousness across the globe but it's the only option open to us," Crawford finally snaps, tension making his tone strident and not at all what I have come to expect of our calm, collected leader.

"Schu, lets try it. We could jump straight back to Japan and set up operations there again," Nagi whispers, his eyes alight with unholy glee. The brat is positively dying to try this… no pun intended. I give him the finger before turning my back on them.

"Will we go back?" I find myself asking, hope lunging into my throat like the hungry bitch she is. I can't believe I'm even entertaining the thought of doing this. What the hell, what's the worse that can happen? No… don't answer that.

"We are rapidly running out of time. Are you ready yet?" Crawford needles me. It's like the fucking bastard knows I'll say yes, he just wants to get a rise out of me. Well, screw that… we don't have time for prom-night histrionics.

"Yeah. Kiddo, get over here and let's put monkey in the middle. No one fucking move once we start. Where are we headed?" I demand, trying to sound adult and grown up about this.

"How about the old safe house just outside of Tokyo? We can be right under their noses," Nagi says, a dreamy look plastered on his face. What the fuck?

"No, the little basement apartment in Sakura City, where we used to hide Farfarello on his bad days, " Crawford orders. Still, it's Japan. It's close enough and best of all it's only any hour away.

We form a strange little semi-circle and Nagi and I make eye contact as our hands reach for each other. Crawford completes the circuit and Nagi and I mesh our talents as the room starts to blur and fade. I think this might actually work. Then the world goes white and all I can see and hear is static. Oh shit.

I wake up alone but intact, my head has a dull ache to it but nothing that I can't ignore. What bothers me more is that I feel as weak as newborn and I'm severely dehydrated. Lack of water or proper nutrition means that our talents start to eat us up from the inside out. A not so good sign. I'm not feverish yet so I roll over planning to go in search of water, but somebunny loves me because there's a large bottle of Evian next to the bed. My favorite of the bottled waters, yay! I open the lid and begin sucking down the warm, but wet, contents. The pounding in my head eases perceptibly and suddenly I am aware of more than just this room.

My telepathy kicks in with blinding force, almost as if it's doubled in strength and range. And then I realize what's in my head. Pictures of austere classrooms and blurred faces. This is Aya; this is what he's seeing. I close my eyes and rub my hands together with glee. I watch like a patient voyeur for a few moments then I have to hear the rough rasp of his voice in my head, I have to talk to him.

Just as I am about to re-awaken the bridge between us a hard hand clamps down on the nape of my neck. I crack open my left eye to catch blur of movement that can only be Crawford before his other hand barrels into my temple.

"Fucktard! What the hell was that for?" I scream at him, I am going to beat the hell out of big daddy for this.

"Don't make contact. Ran can't know that we're back. Not yet," Crawford warns, his voice low and urgent. Fuck. More of this cloak and dagger shit. Once this bullshit with Estet and Epitaph is done Aya and I are going to stick together. Even if I have to go and play with Weiss. What the hell is wrong with me?

"You better have seen something damn important to cut me off like that. This shit doesn't fly with me," I growl, rubbing at my abused head.

"Our mission is not to intervene yet. We have to wait for the right time, Persia doesn't even know that we're back yet," Brad growls at me. Well, I'm slightly mollified that Nagi can't contact Mamoru either. Still, he didn't have to fucking hit me. Bastard.

"This is only for a few weeks. Then it will all be over," Brad warns me in his spooky voice. Great. That could mean that we'll all be dead and wise and powerful Oracle simply doesn't feel the need to tell us that. I flop back on the mattress that is infinitely more comfortable that the one we left behind. I guess I should be a good boy.

"How is Nagi?" I ask, doing my best to sound concerned about the brat. I am, really, I'm just more concerned with the fact that I'm back in Japan and can't talk to Aya. How petulant of me.

"He, like you, will be just fine. He also has better control over his urges than you do," Brad scowls at me, an obvious reminder that I should take classes in how to be a mini-Crawford. Fuck that, where would the fun be?

"Great, great. O esteemed leader… what are we going to do here?" I ask. I know I won't like the answer but I really should know what's in store for us.

"We wait for Weiss to get the pertinent information on Epitaph, we destroy the Rosenkreuz agents, and we topple Epitaph. Understood?"

"Oh, yeah. That's easy enough," I mutter while waving my hand at him. Why not just crush Kritiker as well and make a clean sweep of it?

"Remember, no contact. If I find out that you've leaked anything to Abyssinian I'll kill you myself. We're here to be a surprise," Brad threatens, his voice even and cold. Yeah, I'll listen. For once I actually mean it. I offer his a thumbs-up sign and he leaves the room looking slightly mollified. Just because I can't talk to Aya doesn't mean I can't eavesdrop on him.

I am surprised to find that Yohji left the team and is sporting around Europe gathering information. It's a shame he and I never ran into each other. Think of all the fun we could have had! After an hour or two of rummaging through Aya's head like it was a garage sale I sleep some more. In the morning I'll go looking for food.

I wake to blinding sunlight in my face and Nagi looming over me. The least the little shit could have done was to stand on the other side of the bed and block the sun for me. I blink owlishly for a moment before broadcasting my morning thoughts at the kid.

"We have training to do," Nagi tells me simply in his dead voice. There are times when the little shit creeps me out. This is one of them.

The next few weeks pass with a speed that I can hardly comprehend. When we aren't training ourselves mentally and physically, I'm being forced to pick the minds of influential people. I learn more about Koua Acadamy that I think I need to. They use all the best tricks from Estet and Rosenkreuz to create their monster children, children with no morals and who are abnormalities of nature. Some of us are born twisted with these cursed 'gifts', why would anyone force children to develop these unnatural tendencies? I am almost impressed by how efficient they are. I know that Brad wishes that he could make me more like the brainwashed children. Like it would make me easier to handle. As if.

Somehow we all manage to skirt around the school without being noticed by the members of Weiss. I'm not so happy with the little bitch teacher who keeps hanging around Aya, like he'd be interested. Who, me, jealous? I spend what little free time I have nosing around the Acadamy, or in Aya's head. I am unpleasantly surprised by Kudou's return as an art teacher, or the impression he makes on Aya. My own stomach clenches with dislike and anticipation. Why are the three of us pulled together like this?

As luck would have it I am the one on recon duty the day that shit starts to go down. Crawford seems to think that if we monitor the school enough that eventually a pattern will emerge that will be useful to us. It's the anal retentive in him coming out. So, anyway, I'm minding my own business, being a good boy and hiding from the world when the little bitch teacher stumbles across a dying girl. Yeah, that's right whore, be a Good Samaritan. My only consolation is that Brad says that doing exactly that will get her killed. Petty, I know.

I don't know why I decide to keep a mental tab on them; other than whenever that bitch Asami is involved then Aya tends to turn up. Sure enough she wants to get dear Fujimiya-sensei to help her little lost lambikins. I have decided to 'nudge' the girl into accepting Asami-sensei's offer, but much to my surprise I find that I don't have to. The child already knows who Aya is and actually wants to make a deal with Kritiker. The little one has an impressive bargaining chip as well, all of Tsuji's data on one little disc. Betcha they'll pay handsomely for that! Lambikins might even get better lodging than Schwartz did!

Asami isn't the brightest crayon in the box since she doesn't even question the fact that this girl knowing Aya is a statistical impossibility. I guess I should feel lucky that I won't have to sully myself by wiping her mind of any questionable thoughts or urges. Unless one counts me removing her more, um, passionate urges toward Aya. I didn't think so.

Suddenly I feel the bright mental spark that is Tsuji approaching the room. Asami is such a dumb ass. She brings the one person who should be kept far away from the girl directly to her. Aya isn't close enough to be of any use in this situation. Just what I expect from a man. Insert a long-suffering sigh here. Tsuji, true to form, doesn't even try to keep things under wraps; she simply attacks the unknown girl in the bed. Asami, the colossal moron, tries to stop the carnage. Ah, this must be what Brad saw for her. And here I was hoping it would be something that would be more drawn out.

Aya is finally looking for the little darling Asami, but he'll be too late. Tsuji, with murder in her mind outshining the glee, punches one perfectly manicured hand through Asami's chest. I amplify Asami's final screams so that Aya can hear them, doing my absolute best to shield myself from him. It's so damn hard, though. His mind recognizes even the lightest tough of telepathy and reaches out for my mind. My world is narrowed down to throwing up the best shielding and mental roadblocks I can and he still, almost, crashes through them. All this and he's totally untrained. No wonder I think he's hot!

I escape after planting the subliminal idea that there is something important in the little organizer that Aya bought for Asami. I know he'll find the data, I'll have to inform Crawford of this little turn of events. Tonight will be the night. I sense it, I almost feel like a pre-cog.

And that, boys and girls is how I have ended up on this damn rooftop. The moon is full, something I'm grateful for, it gives us plenty of light. I know that this will end in death in destruction and not just because Crawdaddy says so. Part of this night passes in a blur, until I see Aya, his hair shorn short and my world and vision narrow down to him.

There is a breathless little noise next to me but I can't find it in myself to spare any attention for it. There is the sharp crackle of gravel before Crawford's deep voice whispers in my ear, "You will have to make a choice, Schuldich."

I nod and start the rather involved process of returning to myself. Just as I think I've done it, the impossible happens. Again, my world narrows down to a thin gleam of light as Kudoh's wire wraps around Aya's throat. I mentally kick myself as I know the only reason that Kudoh has an edge on Abyssinian is that he has been mentally searching for me. His mind has been reaching out, trying to touch mine, trying to reopen the bridge that we once had. I am astounded and suddenly my tunnel vision evaporates and color returns to the world.

Both men are ready to kill each other; Yohji is as focused as I've ever known him to be. Unfortunately he is engrossed in trying to kill someone who is… important… to me. Aya is at a severe disadvantage as I feel his attraction for the lanky blond as well as a certainty that he won't harm Yohji. Will I ever fucking win? The wire is stretched thin and taught, Aya's blade could snap it in a second but he doesn't move. I feel a helplessness clawing at the back of my throat as I watch the scene play out before me. I find myself cursing the fact that I don't have Bradley's ability to foresee the near future. Time is unwinding in raveled strands that I want to catch in my hands to delay the inevitable. I find I am holding my breath, waiting.