Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Redemption ❯ One-Shot

Redemption

Written by: Skyyler Kaori

 

-oOsSsOo-

 

Spare this torment oh God

Release me from the flames in which I dwell

The cross I once could bear has become

Like so much rain

Overflowing an already full bucket

Of a five year old child

He will break under the strain

Just as I have

I plead at your feet

Free me from unspeakable torment

Let the world see me for what I am

Let them condemn me for what I've become

Pour my spirit into hell

And set my soul free

 

Blood, rain and the battered shell of a man.

Glazed mocha colored eyes glanced up; squinting against the icy droplets of rain that poured down around his body. The clouds tonight were dark and foreboding, blotting out the pale sliver of the moon like a black cloth over a clean silver platter. The only light that reached out to him was that of faded yellow bulbs that had seen to much use on these shadowy street corners. He grinned hollowly and brought one hand up to wipe at his eyes, the sting of tears that burned behind his eyelids a very unwelcome intrusion. He didn't notice the smear of red that decorated his face from the simple movement and if he had he probably wouldn't have cared anyway. The blood was just some more paint added to the already death-soaked canvas of his life. He was stained, tainted and corrupt, and he couldn't hide from it anymore. In the beginning it was okay to pretend, to make believe that everything would be alright as long as he was fighting on the side of good. But what was good? A judgment passed by those who had been hurt or wronged? What if the good ones were the ones that he killed? Not all of them, but some. What if they were only doing what they did to ease their aching souls? Who was good? Who was bad? Which was he? Perhaps he was a little bit of both, in his heart he wanted nothing more then to protect innocence, but somewhere in him the adrenaline rush that accompanied each kill was like a choleric drug. He couldn't turn away from this morbid lifestyle, and given the chance he didn't think he would have. Nothing that he did anymore mattered, it didn't change the fact that he was ultimately condemned to hell, just like the rest of them were.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

His world was red; spider webs of black the only thing breaking the color's solid, frightening truth. The only time he was free from his world was when he was hidden in the protective embrace of sleep. Even then, sometimes, he couldn't escape. Recent missions...no, murders, would plague him. They would rewind and play over and over inside his skull, taunting him, each playback more gruesome than the last. On days after those dreams he would wake restless and disturbed. His feelings would fester inside his soul, creating a black void where his heart had once been. The dreams came more often now, and he became more distant. His teammates were worried about him, and in some small part of his mind knew that he could trust them, but he refused to allow himself that small luxury. A killer didn't deserve friends.

“It hurts,” he whispered into the rain, letting chilled rivulets of water stream over the contours of his face to mingling with the tears that were finally allowed their freedom. His body shuddered under its layers of clothing and he hugged himself tightly. The wind whipped up around him, pulling at tree branches and bending them to its will. The grass beneath him bent and broke under the harsh gusts that tugged at the air. The brunet could relate. He was bent and broken every day. His heart ached more tonight then it ever had before. Because tonight he'd shattered the fragile trust that had developed between he and the only stable pillar in his life.

The mission had been relatively simple; two of them would go in, dispose of the bad guy and get out. It ran smoothly, everything going according to their well-laid plans. That was, until they reached him. The man they were supposed to kill. He didn't put up much of a fight; in fact, he didn't seem to even care. Ken could remember the look of resignation the crossed the man's face in his last few seconds of life. It seemed as if he knew how this would end and he accepted it. He could remember staring helplessly at the blood that covered his weapons, wishing it could have been different. “I'm sorry,” he had whispered then. Just as the words had left his mouth an explosion could be heard shattering the foundations of the large office building. Like clockwork they exploded, one after the other.

He didn't remember much about how they'd escaped, just that he'd been yelled at and lectured by his redheaded partner before being left in this park to sulk. Ran had told him that he was an idiot. He had told him that he knew that the explosives were set and that he wasted time staring at that man's corpse. He told him that he was lucky they escaped with only minor cuts and burns. He told him to get his shit together before he became Weiß's first casualty. He told him that he was tired of his mistakes and that he would be on down time until he finished battling with his inner demons. He told him that he couldn't stand him half the time. He verbally berated and broke him, never once pausing to allow the brunet to speak. Ken admitted that he was an idiot, and he had wasted time. He did know the explosives were set and he knew they were lucky. All of it was true, and the truth didn't hurt so much anymore. But the fact that Ran couldn't stand him stung deep, deeper than it should have. He'd always known that there was something about him the redhead didn't like, but he'd never imagined that he hated him.

“Why do you hate me?” He murmured sullenly. He shuddered again as the wind slipped beneath his jacket and chilled his skin, like the cold fingers of a faceless lover.

“I don't Ken.”

Coffee bean orbs snapped up to meet hard amethyst. When had he gotten here? “Yes you do.”

Ran shook his head slowly, soft crimson hair glimmering with raindrops. “You drive me insane, you screw up all the time, you're careless and you annoy me, but I don't hate you.”

“Then why are you so mean to me?” The brunette turned to stare at the sopping ground he sat on; unable to look into the eyes that could pierced his soul without even trying.

“Because…”

“Because why?” Ken whispered sullenly.

“Because I hate the way you make me feel.”

The words were soft, but to Ken they sounded like thunder, drowning out every other sound around him. “What does that mean? What are you playing at?”

“I'm not playing at anything.”

He sounded sincere, but he couldn't be. This had to be some sick joke, something else to make him feel worthless. Maybe Ran was trying to get him to quit Weiß on his own. “Screw you Ran,” he snapped. He waited for a reply and nearly smirked when none came. He waited a few moments with the pounding rain the only sound to remind him that he was still alive. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a body settle behind his. Well-toned arms pulled him back against a strong chest. He didn't struggle or protest. It was one of those dreams again; there was no other explanation. It was some dream that his twisted subconscious had cooked up to torment him further. Give him a taste of what he wanted and then throw him violently back into reality.

“You're shivering.”

That cool baritone voice was so close, nearly tangible. Ken turned ever so slightly, catching the redhead's gaze again. Usually icy violet had been replaced with something close to compassion, maybe a silent apology. There was still a hard edge to those chiseled gem stone orbs, but something there made Ken's heart skip a beat. That look was so real, was it possible that he could dream something he'd never seen? Maybe... Before his mind had caught up with him Ken found himself shifting his body, leaning closer to those pale features that reminded him so much of sculpted porcelain. His lips brushed softly over Ran's, sparking something in him, speeding his heartbeat. He blinked, as if stunned before moving to pull away. He found himself trapped, held still by a pleasantly gentle embrace. “I, uh...I'm...”

“Sorry?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I...because I....uh...I...”

“Kissed me?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“So?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You mean you...” The brunette was cut off when Ran placed two fingers over his lips.

“No, Ken, I don't care, yes I do care about you, and no that doesn't excuse your screw up tonight, but I'll forgive you anyway.”

Brown eyes blinked and Ken stayed silent even after the older man had removed his fingers, leaving him free to talk if he so chose. He stayed quiet for a moment before: “Redemption,” he whispered softly.

“Hm?” Ran glanced at him curiously, his skin seeming to glow in the gauzy light of the street lamps.

“You're my redemption. I'll be ok if you're with me,” he replied. He nuzzled the side of the redhead's neck and settled more comfortably into his embrace. The rain continued to fall around them, but the world suddenly didn't seem so bleak anymore.

 

Fin

 

-oOsSsOo-

 

Disclaimer: I own nuttin'.

 

Author's Note: Uhm…cheese? This is just a little thing inspired while I was listening to Endless Circle. I forget which band sings it. I'm working on breaking a writer's block that has existed for about eight months, so excuse any mistakes. Comments and reviews are much appreciated. Thanks. Bai bai!