Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Stray Kitten ❯ The Phoenix Rises ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimers: Alas! We don't own Weiss. However Jade does happen to own Schu's favorite black thong, and Pheno owns a pair of Ken's boxers… *get bricked*

Jade: Oy! Also, I would like to tell everyone that I do not condone the use of fanfucktion.net. mediaminer.org is where it's at, yo.

Pheno: *whistles innocently as she posts on ff.net*

Jade: --; Well I didn't post it there. Just so you all know...

Warnings/Notes: Uhm.. warnings.. warnings... Lets see.. Blood, light shounen-ai, heavy angst. Is that all? I think so. And the insanity in the A/N, but that's pretty much a given. Italics indicate personal thought, whereas {Italics} indicate Schuldich's telepathic speech.

Thank yous! Three reviews, eh? … oh well. That's not bad for mm.org. and considering this is a very short chapter.. ^^; Thanks to Hila (I've only read one other Schu/Ken, or rather Ken/Schu. It's was co-authored by my co-author. Called "Crossfire" on the evil story server that I do not condone the use of. You'll go blind. I swear you will if you use it!), Pandora.81 (Yes, yes it will be good.. *evil grin*), and.. Nani? Pheno!? --; Oh well.. A review is a review! Heheheh ^.^

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Stray Kitten

Chapter 1: The Phoenix Rises

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It was four in the morning before they finally dared to make their move, positive that most of the people had cleared the area around the wreckage.

Yohji and Omi had fought for a full hour before settling into a decision. Omi had insisted going after Ken, but Yohji claimed Ken was old enough to take care of himself. Aya had turned away from the heated argument in a calm mask of indifference, but Omi had caught the flicker of anxiety flitting across the cold, violet eyes. They just couldn't sit around and twiddle their thumbs until Ken's body appeared in the 8 o'clock news.

They needed Ken well and alive and back in the group.

So Omi had volunteered to go. After all he was the youngest and looked the least suspicious of the bunch. So he had snuck back to the bombed business center, now reduced to a pile of ash and cinder with dying fire frolicking in the breeze.

Ken-kun, where are you?

Omi prayed to find Ken unharmed even though he knew it was near impossible. Clumsy as Ken was, he was responsible. He would never leave them without notice, or spark up unnecessary worry. Either he was badly injured, or… or…

Omi quickly pushed the mental image of Ken's broken, bleeding body laying on a stretcher, or worse, in a small refrigerated morgue cabinet out of his mind. He shouldn't think like that. The brunette had survived worse than a little explosion before. Hell, he had gotten into all out punching, biting, kicking, katana vs. bugnuks brawls with Aya and walked away with only a few cuts and scrapes. Compared to the red-head's temper, this was nothing.

The young blonde circled the area where Ken was supposed to be in. He repeated Ken's escape route, found nothing. No Ken.

He was nearly about to give up when he stepped on a shard of glass a few feet away from the center. Omi blinked and rubbed his eyes to see if his eyes were deceiving him. His heart skipped a beat.

Oh… dear lord, please, no…

Lying in a clump of burnt grass was a shiny object glinting off sparks of white. It had a rusty tip. Sharp. Stained. As though it had pierced through numerous bodies until the clot of blood had gotten that thick…

Alone and abandoned, buried amidst the black soot and its master nowhere to be seen, was a broken splint of Ken's prized bugnuks. A few feet away was a large pool of blood, too much blood. Omi whimpered, praying that is wasn't all Ken's. However the remains of a burnt, bright orange sweater lying nearby confirmed that it must be.

Guilt and despair started gnawing at Omi's mind. This was his fault. He should have gone and helped, despite the older boy telling him to run. Why did he listen? He could have taken out most of the attackers with a few darts. They both could have run back to the store safely.

A soft sob escaped Omi's lips as he reached out, his hand shaking terribly. He carefully plucked the bloodstained blade from the grass, then moved to pick up what was left of the blood soaked sweater. Gently, he wrapped the blade in the orange material and stood up, then promptly fell back to his knees and pressed his face into it, letting out a harsh wail of pure sorrow and agony for his friend.

"Why, Ken-kun!" Omi sobbed, his tears mixing with the pouring rain, as well the deceased assassin's blood. "Why..."

He wasn't sure how long he had been kneeling there, clutching the bloody shirt and crying, before he felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder. Large, bloodshot eyes turned up, tears and blood marring the young face. Standing above him were his elder teammates, looking down at him with soft, sad faces.

"Omi.." Yohji whispered, kneeling down to wrap his arms around the younger man.

"There's nothing we can do, Omi." Aya's stated. His voiced stayed calm and cold. In his eyes however, Omi could see just as much sadness and hurt as he himself was feeling.

"Ken-kun..." The boy squeaked into Yohji's torso. "This wasn't supposed to happen.."

"We're assassins, Omittchi. We all know the risks involved. There's always the chance that one of us..." The blond man trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"But Ken..." The name stuck in Omi's throat as another sob sprang free.

"We take for granted that we survive night after night. Maybe this is a harsh lesson we all needed to learn." Aya said, his voice remaining infinitely steady and calm as he turned around and started to head back. Suddenly he paused. "I- I'm sorry, Omi." He said softly, then continued to walk.

Yohji helped Omi to his feet and wrapped an arm around him for support. Omi sniffled, wiping his ever-crying eyes on Yohji's shirt as they walked, one are around the tall blonde, the other clutching the blade and orange sweater to his chest.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Came a nasally cry from the front door. Crawford looked up form his work and gave the red-haired man the once-over; his eyebrow lifting upon seeing one of the younger members of Weiß cradled in the telepaths arms.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." He smirked slightly.

"More like look what dragged in the cat, I dare say," the German sniffed and with remarkable grace, kicked the door close behind him.

"Is he alive?"

"Of course he's alive, Crawlie. I don't do necrophilia." Schuldich stated as he laid the Weiß member on the couch.

The American rolled his eyes. "Don't call me that. And move him. He'll get blood all over."

"Ja, mien fuehrer!" Schuldich clicked his heels together and raised his arm up and out in a mock salute, then picked up his newly acquired toy and headed up the stairs.

Crawford took his glasses off and rubbed his temples. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the infuriating red-head…

{Because you want my sexy body, Braddikins. Don't deny it. You get all hot and bothered when I walk into the room.}

Schuldich...

{Ooh.. mmm.. ahh.. Oh, Brad.. Oooohhh..}

Brad growled and severed the mental link. He really, really hated that bastard sometimes.

Upstairs, Schuldich chuckled slightly, pleased with himself. Their leader was such fun to play with.

"But you'll be even more fun, kitten." One delicate eyebrow arched as he ran a hand over the unconscious Siberian's bloody cheek. "Yes you will, once I tame you. But that might be fun in itself."

* * *

He groaned and clapped a hand to his temple. His head fucking hurt. He bit back a wince as he touched a particularly achy spot on his head. Instead of flesh and hair though, he came into contact with a slightly damp, crusty bandage. The further his fingers traveled, the more bandage he found. Some parts nice, dry, and clean-feeling, others damp and crusty like the other bit. Carefully, he pulled his hand back down and blinked.

His fingers were covered in blood.

Gross.

With a grunt of pain, he struggled to sit up. A hand on his chest effectively stopped him however, and he fell back into the soft white covers of his bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Hush. Just relax, and get some rest, katzchen (1)."

Chocolate brown eyes stared up at the man standing above him. Flame red tendrils surrounded a porcelain-like face, in which harsh teal eyes bore down into him, as if silently warning him to obey or face the consequences. Something deep inside of him told him to run, that this man was not a friend. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe it was his surroundings…

He was in a room, but he didn't think it was his. This room had walls the color of eggshells, and it was neat and tidy and so tastefully decorated that it looked as though it had materialized out of a housing magazine, complete with a bookshelf and stacks of fat battered old books. He ran his hand over the sheets of the double bed he was lying on. Silk sheets. They felt nice, but unfamiliar. Everything in this room was slightly frightening and unfamiliar.

Sighing softly, the man settled back against the pillows and tried to make sense of.. everything. What in God's Holy Hell was going on? He looked back to the red-headed man, who was now sitting backwards in a chair, his arms folded over the back and one hand carelessly dangling a smoldering cigarette.

"What… what happened?"

The red-head arched a thin eyebrow as he took a long drag from the small white cylinder, staying silent for a long moment before speaking. "You've been out for a week, Siberian."

Deep brown eyes blinked in confusion. "Siberian? I…" He paused, suddenly very confused and frightened. "Is that my name?"

The red-head's smile grew nearly feral. "No, of course not kitten. It's just a pet name."

"Then... what is my name?" The man's voice cracked a bit. Tears of frustration began to leak from his eyes as he struggled to get up. "Who am I?"

"Tch, katzchen. Calm down. Your name is..." The red-head faltered for a moment as he tried to think of a suitable name, then smiled again. "Your name is Brandeis (2)."

"Who are you? Do I know you?" Ken, or now Brandeis, whimpered as he clung to the red-head's jacket, his head pounding, tears pouring down his face.

"Of course you know me. My name is Schuldich." The red-head held Brandeis close, rocking him ever so gently. "You know me.. very well." He purred, nipping the younger man's ear lightly.

The tears slowed its flow and the brunette looked up, startled. "I'm…I'm gay?"

Schuldich couldn't help but chuckle. "You're something, kitten. Now get some rest. I'll tell you everything that happened when you wake up."

Brandeis nodded and settled back against the soft white pillows, watching the red-head get up and start to leave.

"Hey..." The brunette paused uncertainly.

"Schuldich." Schuldich finished for him and turned back around. "Yes?"

"Uhm, is this your room?"

Schuldich snorted. "Hardly. It's too fucking clean to be mine. This is Brad's room."

"Brad..." Brandeis rolled the name over his tongue, searching for a hint of familiarity, sighing when none could be found. "Do I know him?" Chocolate eyes wavered with more confusion.

"Ja. I'll introduce him to you later. Just go to sleep for now… Brandeis. You're safe." Schuldich smiled, then turned the lights off and shut the door behind him a quiet 'snap'.

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A/N: (1) katzchen: German for kitten

(2) Brandeis: German name meaning "dweller in a burnt clearing"

Jade: Poor Omi... *whimpers* GOD, I SUCK!!!

Ken: Poor Omi?! You left me in the evil clutches of Schwarz! Completely defenseless! And I've been lying there on that grit floor for a whole fucking chapter!

Pheno: Actually we left Brandeis in the clutches of Schwarz.

Jade: Yeah, the SEXY clutches of Schwarz, and more importantly...

Schuldich: *perks up* Me! ^.^

Pheno: Exactly.

Jade: Waiii Schuschu! *glomps Schu*

Ken: *fumes* Why doesn't Aya care that I died?

Pheno: I dunno… ano, Jade?

Jade: Uhm.. because Aya sucks? *gets bricked*

Pheno: No, I suck. Aya's just a big fat bastard with a shiny katana up his pansy ass.

Aya: *glares at them both* Shi-ne.

Jade: *ignoring Aya* You do not suck, Pheno-chan!

Pheno: Yes I do. I suck and you rule.

Jade: No! You rule, damnit! Now stop arguing with me! *stomps foot*

Schuldich: OW! My foot! *whimpers*

Ken: Wanna workout Pheno-chan? *wide eyed and all innocence*

Pheno: *nosebleeds* KEN-SAMA! *rib-cracking glomp*

Ken: *falls over* Gah! Help me! I don't wanna workout anymore! Schuuuu.. *whimpers*

Schuldich: It's your own fault Kenken.

Ken: *being dragged off* ... Help...