Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Underneath It All ❯ Starting Over ( Chapter 1 )

AN: This beginning of this chapter is a bit atypical of how I usually write, but I need to give a feel for where they're living now since I can't rely on the usual anime/manga backgrounds.

 

Warnings: Violence, Language, Rape/NCS

 

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

 

 

Internal Dialogue

Telepathy

 

Chapter 1

 

Six months. It had been six months since that horrific night, the night when they lost Ken, Nagi, Farfarello and Yohji. For several days after their initial escape, the remaining members of Weiss and Schwartz had essentially stayed underground until Crawford deemed it safe to return to the shore where they knew the bodies of their fallen comrades to be. It had taken some time to gather them all together, but once they had, the four left behind set them ablaze, watching as flames consumed the empty vessels that once housed the souls of friends and lovers. It was the best they could offer, given the circumstances, and they knew it was more than any of them had ever expected should they fall in battle.

 

The days that followed were used to keep themselves busy, making preparations to go into hiding. There were two major issues holding them back from leaving immediately. The first being Ran's reluctance to leave his sister behind - he had decided to go back to using his given name after determining that Aya would be joining them. Crawford agreed that she would not be safe in Japan any longer, so they were looking for a way to bring her out of the country with them. The next problem was Manx. The American couldn't explain why, his visions at the time were too vague, but they needed the woman with them for what was to come. Omi said he would take care of it; Manx, after all, had practically raised the archer from the day he was rescued from his kidnappers. If anyone could convince her to abandon what remained of Kritiker, it would be him.

 

Neither task proved to be difficult in the end. Aya was beyond thrilled to find her brother alive and had readily gone into hiding, trusting implicitly that he knew what he was doing. Even easier was getting Manx to join them; the red headed vixen had come across some information regarding the destruction of the tower. Upon seeing Omi, she had immediately warned him that he was still in danger. All he had said was `I know' and `You need to come with us.' She hadn't needed any convincing, though she was rather surprised to find out who exactly `us' entailed.

 

Now, it was six months later, and group of six were out of Japan and settled into their new home in France. The house they had acquired was three stories tall with much more space than any of them required to live. There was a large, open field to the front, a lake off to one side, and a steep cliff covering the other side and back. All in all, it was rather defensible. At first glance, the size of the house didn't seem practical, but once one looked inside, the reason became obvious. An entire room on the second floor had been dedicated to weapons' storage, something they knew would be necessary when the time came; the arsenal was no longer limited to their weapons of choice. There were still crossbows, swords, guns, knives and other such items; now included, though, were a variety of explosives, staff weapons and many other deadly arms, as well.

 

The room directly across from it was where they all trained, Aya included - Ran knew better than to try and shield his sister from what was coming and thus decided to prepare her instead. Omi and Schuldig were also brushing up on their close-range combat techniques as neither had ever really found it necessary before. Crawford and Ran were the most efficient in that area, but they, too, used the room to keep their skills honed; it would be detrimental to their cause should any of them not be thoroughly prepared. Manx, who was now going by her given name, Hanae Kitada, due to the fact that she was no longer a part of Kritiker, had also proven very adept in hand-to-hand combat. This had not come as surprise to any of the assassins; one did not become Persia's second by being weak.

 

Also on the second floor were bedrooms belonging to Crawford, Ran and Aya, as well as an office for the American; the house was indeed that big. The bedrooms were typical, containing the obligatory beds, closets and personally effects. A bathroom connected the precog's room to the swordsman's, while Aya had use of her own, private bathroom. To say that Crawford had chosen the house wisely was an understatement; it was almost as if the place had been designed specifically for them.

 

On the third floor, a similar setup could be found pertaining to Schuldig, Omi and Kitada's living arrangements, as well as three other rooms that had various purposes. Much like Crawford, Kitada had a room she used as an office. Directly above the `gym' was where the archer had set up what turned out to be a state-of-the-art hacker's wet dream. There were three top of the line computers, all modified to Omi's satisfaction, as well as a corner dedicated to the design and building of any electronic equipment they felt necessary. No one ever asked where the blue-eyed teen got the money to pay for all the machinery; it was a given the any income came from less than legal methods. The same went for the purchase of the house.

 

The final room on the third floor was used as a conference room for meetings and planning; it probably wasn't necessary, but it was easier for them to have set times and a specific place to go when such events were called for. Currently, they were only using it once every couple of weeks as a place to update each other on their progress. With six people living there, it was often difficult for everyone to know what everyone else was up to, plus it satisfied Crawford's need for that type of organization.

 

The first floor of the house was the most lived-in. There was a large, fully stocked kitchen, littered with the occasional dirty plate or half-empty glass as is typical when living with four men. Next to the kitchen was a rather cozy den, fireplace and all, where they often gathered to relax in the late evenings. Beyond the den was the hallway leading to the front door, off to the side of which was a small room. This small room contained all the surveillance equipment they had installed for security purposes. They would not be caught off guard should their enemies ever find them. The final. Used room on the first floor was much like the den, only it contained a large entertainment system in perfect view of the three couches placed around the room. Deadly assassins that they were, even they needed time to occasionally just sit down and veg out in front of the idiot box. There were also three rooms that remained unused on the first floor. They would eventually be used as either storage space or as bedrooms for any allies that might turn up.

 

Currently, they were all gathered in the third floor conference room, Schuldig, Omi and Kitada on one side of the table, Crawford, Ran and Aya on the other. In the last six months, they had slowly been gathering information and trying to determine if there was anyone with whom they could ally.

 

“I've searched for the whereabouts of the four men who were Weiss before your group,” Kitada was saying. “After locating them and looking into their activities, I'd have to say they've side with our enemies; they are not an option.” When the green-eyed woman had initially brought up the subject of the former Weiss team, it had seemed like a good idea; the team was sorely disenchanted with all things Kritiker, and Ran had looked eager at the chance to once again train with the man who had taught him the way of the sword. Looking over the report Kitada had handed to everyone, he decided that he needed to reassess his idea of a role model. Someone who supported the act of killing just to kill was not someone he would give his respect to.

 

“What about the Crashers?” Omi asked. The Crashers, another of Kritiker's former teams with whom they had connections, was probably their best bet at this point; they had disappeared not long after the fall of Esset's tower in Japan. The archer had surprised both Ran and Kitada at bringing them up in the first place; he was definitely not supposed to have had that information. When that was brought to his attention, they were given a roll of the eyes and promptly ignored. They didn't need to know that he knew more about Kritiker's operations than Persia himself probably knew. The only thing no one could find out was who it was that ran the organization behind the scenes.

 

“We still can't locate any trace of them,” the red haired woman sighed in frustration. “They must have figured out what was going on and went underground. If they don't want to be found, they won't be.”

 

“Let Omi have a crack at it,” Aya suggested from her seat next to Ran. “No offense to your skills and connections, but I've noticed that he's much better at finding the more obscure or hidden information.”

 

“I know he's better at it than I am,” Kitada conceded with no hesitation, “but his time is better spent trying to find the identity the one behind all of this.”

 

“I can work on both,” the archer stated. “It will take a few days for the program I've got going to finish its run anyway. While I'm waiting, I can try to see if there is any trace of the Crashers and how to contact them if there is.” The others nodded their approval to that course of action.

 

“Has there been any headway in finding the rogue Esset agents?” Ran questioned once the previous matter had been settled.

 

“I've discovered one faction is hiding in Canada, although I haven't been able to determine an exact location as of yet,” Crawford replied. “They seem to have also gotten caught up in whatever has begun; they may prove to be powerful allies, though we will have to be cautious in any dealings with them. Several of their numbers have proven to be… untrustworthy in the past, to say the least.”

 

“A last resort, then,” the telepath concluded.

 

“Yes,” the American confirmed. “But we will keep the option open.” The precog took a moment to look the table before continuing. “It won't be long before something happens. My visions are still vague due to the fact that I don't know all the factors involved, but I have seen that we only have two, maybe three, months before this war begins.” Five sets of eyes sent him sharp glances.

 

“That's not a lot of time,” the archer was the first to speak. “Unless there's anything else, I'm going to need every spare moment to work or train.”

 

“That's to be expected,” Crawford replied. “The only other thing I want to add is that I think we should meet like this once a week from now on. It's more important now than it has been in the previous months that we remain constantly informed of one another's progress.” There was no argument; they all knew he was correct. Each gathering the materials they needed from the meeting, they all went to perform their individual tasks: Schuldig, Aya, and Ran to train; Crawford, Omi and Kitada to gather intelligence and hopefully allies.

 

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“Son of a bitch!” Omi yelled as he tried to run from a group of armed men. The blonde teen had gone out to purchase a few upgrades for his computers; what he hadn't planned on was being ambushed while returning to his bike from the store. This can't be related to our enemies. I checked with Crawford before I left; there's no way anyone has found us yet. The archer was correct in his assumption; the men currently chasing him had absolutely nothing to do with their situation. They were simply small time thugs from a local gang on the prowl for their next target. Seeing the young blonde exiting a store with what had to have been several thousands of francs worth of computer equipment immediately screamed `mark' to them. Omi would have no problem defending himself if he wasn't so greatly outnumbered, that being the reason he had chosen to run. That'll teach me never to go out on my own again; at least not when it's dark. Schuldig! The archer tried to contact his telepathic friend; the attempt was in vain as he was apparently too far from the German's range to make any contact. I'll just have to keep trying while heading in the direction of our home. Unfortunately, his Japanese heritage was hindering his ability to escape, being that he was several inches shorter than his pursuers. His legs just couldn't make up for the fact that the men following him had much longer strides. Schu! I'm in trouble, he tried one last time as he was tackled to the ground, face first. The archer was roughly flipped onto his back and tightly pinned beneath a rather large man before he could even begin to struggle.

 

“Tu nous dedommageras de la chasse que tu nous as causé,” the man atop him snarled. While this was being said, another of the assailants unsheathed a knife and pressed it up against the blonde's throat. Rather than pay attention to what was being said to him - he didn't have time to think about the translations - Omi was busy assessing his situation. From his limited visual range, he could see five men other than the one who was straddling him; he didn't for one minute assume there couldn't be more. All thoughts stopped, however, once he felt the cold, hard metal of the knife bite into his skin, eliciting a small hiss of pain before it was removed. The archer could feel the thin line of blood as it trickled down his neck; he could tell it was nothing to worry about, and dismissed it as he once again tried to figure out his options. I'm definitely outnumbered. I could easily get away from this heavy guy, but there could be more of them behind me. I'm just going to have to hope that I get through this alive, he thought with no little resignation.

 

More words were exchanged between his captors before the one holding him down stood, another man immediately taking his place while a second man moved to grab his wrists, positioning them above his head. Blue eyes widened in panic as the knee of the man previously straddling him forced his legs apart.

 

“Tu crieras pour nous,” he heard. Though he was having trouble comprehending the words, Omi was well aware of the intention behind them; the sadistic gleam in the hovering man's eyes was more than enough to tell him what was going to happen if he couldn't escape. The teen began struggling for all he was worth, but a third man joined in holding him down, effectively stilling his smaller body. It was at that point he that he once again felt the icy sensation of knife on his skin, however, this time it was positioned face up on his abdomen. With one swift slice, his shirt was cut from his body, exposing him to chill of the night air.

 

“Arrêtez!” Omi finally found his voice and the correct word, though the plea went ignored. The blonde tried once again to free himself, but that only egged the soon-to-be rapists on. He could feel the clammy, calloused hand that was uncaringly removing his pants and boxers, leaving him completely vulnerable to these men's wanton desires. He wasn't sure how it happened, but Omi found himself once again flipped over and forced onto his knees, feeling what could only be one of the attacker's erections pressing against his ass. Before he could try anything at all, though, someone was grabbing his head and forcing another hard cock into his mouth. Two things happened at this point. First, wanting no part of being anyone's sick pleasure, Omi bit down, hard, on the invaders dick; the strangled scream pulled from the man's throat would have been satisfying had the man hovering behind had not chosen that exact moment to shove into him without regard. He wasn't sure who was screaming anymore as the rapist roughly thrust into his passage repeatedly; he could already feel the blood running down his inner thighs. The pain was overwhelming as the teen was sure he was being torn in half. Stop. Get off. Stop it. Stop it. STOP!

 

“STOP!” he screamed both mentally and aloud, though he wasn't aware of the telepathic plea, as he heard the man behind him grunt his release. The archer was in utter shock to find that his torture had, in fact, ceased as he was now fully collapsed on the ground, no one touching him; he considered the possibility that it was a nightmare but quickly ruled that out due to the burning pain he was still experiencing. Cautiously, the blonde raised his head to locate his assailants. If he had been surprised when they had actually stopped, he was more than surprised as he saw several limp bodies lying in various contorted, unnatural positions all around the alley. It looked as if each and every one of them had been thrown against the walls with such force that nearly all of their bones had snapped. The archer had one final thought before the all-consuming pain forced him into a state of unconsciousness. Nagi…

 

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“He should have been back by now,” Ran muttered from one of the couches in the den. Schuldig and Crawford both looked up from the documents they were reading.

 

“What?” the green haired telepath asked, having not quite heard the swordsman.

 

“Omi,” the crimson haired man replied. “He should have been back from the store by now.” A quick glance at the clock over the fireplace confirmed that the violet-eyed assassin was indeed correct.

 

“I'll try to see if there's anything in my visions,” the American stated, sitting up and preparing to go into a trance. For several minutes, two sets of eyes watched as the precog tried to find out what had happened that was keeping the archer. Aside from the obvious fact that someone was likely after them, they all had an intense fear of losing anyone else. After the tragedy at the tower, the four remaining assassins had all silently vowed to protect one another from something like that ever happening again.

 

STOP! The mental cry of terror caused Schuldig's eyes to widen; he gasped as he momentarily felt the tremendous pain that accompanied the frantic plea; there was also another, more familiar and warm feeling that traveled along the brief message.

 

“Shit,” the German's voice was filled with anxiety. At the same time, brown eyes snapped into focus.

 

“I know where he is,” Crawford stated. “We don't have much time; their intent is to kill him.” He was already out of his chair with Ran and Schuldig on his heals, heading out the door and towards his car.

 

“I don't think they'll be able to kill him,” the telepath quietly remarked once they were on their way.

 

“What do you mean?” the swordsman asked, worry for the safety of his young friend evident in his voice.

 

“He called out to me, though I don't think it was intentional,” the German replied. “You know I'm partially empathic, right?” The red head nodded. “Well, along with the word `stop', I was able to briefly feel what was happening to him… it… it isn't something I want to talk about,” he had enough of his own experiences with what he was sure Omi had just gone through that it was a very touchy subject. Ran seemed to understand this and let him continue without question. “There was something else, though, something that I've only ever felt from one other person.”

 

“Just tell us already!” Crawford nearly shouted as a means of venting his own frustration at what he had seen only ten minutes prior. Schuldig knew the anger wasn't directed at him and continued on as if his usually collected friend hadn't momentarily lost it.

 

“This is going to sound strange,” the olive haired man's voice held an odd quality. “But it felt just like Nagi did that time when he saved the Schreient girl.”

 

“How is that possible?” Ran asked clearly understanding what the telepath was not saying. “Omi has never shown any signs of having any sort of psychic ability before.” The German could only shrug as he wasn't sure himself. He had never sensed anything from the teen before, though he did recall a surge of something the day the tower fell; he had considered it to be the last of Nagi's life draining from his body and hadn't given it a second thought as there were other, more important things to deal with at the time.

 

“Whatever the case may be,” Crawford interjected. “It's not important. Our priority right now is to find Omi and get him to safety.” After that, the remainder of the forty minute drive into the city was silent.

 

“What the hell was he doing in this area?” Ran breathed out as he stepped out of the car and took in their surroundings. As Crawford could only see the possible futures and not the past, he could not explain what the archer was doing alone in such a dangerous place. He considered it rather lucky on his part that he had been able to see even the immediate possible future that had led them to Omi's current location.

 

“He's this way,” the American gestured for his companions to follow him into a small, dark alleyway. Almost immediately, the trio froze in their tracks upon seeing the bleeding, naked form of their friend surrounded by the dead bodies of what looked to be six men.

 

“Omi,” Schuldig gasped, tears threatening to form behind his eyes. That one word, though, managed to snap the three assassins back to reality, and they rushed to check on the archer.

 

“He's still alive,” Ran was relieved when he noticed the consistent rise and fall of the teen's exposed back. Wasting no time, he removed his long coat and draped it over the blonde while the German moved to carefully lift the archer into his arms. As gentle as he was, Omi still felt it as the pain wracked his system, forcing him awaken. Blue eyes cracked open, confusion evident in the dull orbs as they met the gaze of worried, golden eyes.

 

“Schu?” he rasped out. “Wha… what's going on? Why… why does it hurt?” Omi obviously didn't remember the most recent events, and Schuldig wanted to keep it that way, at least until they got the teen home.

 

“We'll talk about it later,” his tone was soft. “For now, we just need to get you home.” The archer nodded slightly before slipping back into the blissful darkness of his mind.

 

“If they weren't already dead…” Ran growled, a vicious glint in his eyes as he glared at the lifeless bodies of the thugs.

 

“If Omi hadn't done whatever it was he did,” Crawford began. “We wouldn't have gotten here in time. Be thankful that we don't have to kill them.” The American stepped further into the alley, collecting Omi's ruined clothing as well as the bag of electronics, removing all evidence that the teen was ever there. “Let's go,” he motioned to Ran, Schuldig having already returned to the car with Omi.

 

“Call ahead and let the others know what happened,” Crawford ordered once they were seated in the car. “Have them get things ready for our arrival.” The swordsman was quick to respond, pulling his cell out and dialing his sister's number, all the while keeping his eyes on the archer in the backseat with his head in the German's lap. Before his sister picked up, he was sure he saw a single tear trail a path down Schuldig's face.

 

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The faint rustling in the room woke the green haired German from his light doze; it took him a moment to realize that he wasn't in his own room. Rather, he had fallen asleep while keeping vigil over his traumatized friend, who now appeared to be suffering the affects of his most recent living nightmare. Standing from the chair, he moved to sit next to the eighteen year old archer in the bed, reaching out a hand to gently shake the blonde awake.

 

“Omi,” he called out. “Wake up; you're safe, at home.” The teen's eyes shot open, though they were not the normal shade of cerulean the telepath was familiar with. Instead, they shone a brilliant red, reminiscent of Nagi's eyes when he had used his telekinesis; that in and of itself was enough to convince Schuldig that Omi had somehow `inherited' the ability. “You need to calm down, Omi,” the older assassin kept his tone low. “It's me, Schuldig. If you don't calm yourself, the entire house could go down.”

 

“Schul… Schuldig?” the archer's eyes faded back to their sky-blue color. “What… nng!” a low moan escaped his lips as he tried to sit up. “Oh, right. The alley; it wasn't just some horrible nightmare.”

 

“No,” the telepath sighed. “It wasn't. I wish I could tell you differently, but I can't.” Omi took a closer look at the German upon hearing the strain in his voice and noticed the bloodshot, puffy look of his eyes.

 

“Why have you been crying, Schu?” the older man lowered his head at the question.

 

“I just hoped that no one I cared about would ever have to go through this,” he whispered. He was surprised when deceptively thin, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into a warm embrace.

 

“It's okay,” the teen comforted. “There was nothing you could do. I was too far out of your range to call for help. Besides, it's not as if that was the first time.” The last part was spoken so softly that the German almost missed it. Almost. His head snapped up and gold bore into blue.

 

“What did you say?” he already knew the answer, though.

 

“It wasn't the first time,” the archer turned his head, ashamed that he had allowed such an act to occur for the second time in his short life. “It happened when I was kidnapped, before Persia saved me.” This time it Schuldig who offered the comfort.

 

“It's not your fault. We saw how many men there were in the alley,” the green haired assassin stated. “There was no way you could have fought them all off, not when you didn't realize what you were capable of.” It was Omi's turn to throw shocked look to his friend.

 

“That really happened?” he asked incredulously. “I thought… I thought I had dreamed that part. It felt like Nagi was with me, so I thought I must have shut myself away in my memories. H-h-how? How is that possible?” The archers hand absently grabbed at the pendant around his neck, the last remaining piece of his lost love, as silent tears fell from his eyes.

 

“I'm not entirely sure,” Schuldig whispered. “I think that since you were holding Nagi when he died, he somehow transferred his ability to you. I remember feeling a surge of power just before he slipped away. At the time, I didn't think it was anything other than that, but now, I'm not so sure.”

 

“Are you sure… I mean are you certain that I've become telekinetic?” there was a hint of hope in the question, hope that he could always carry a part of Nagi with him. “Why didn't it manifest before now?”

 

“I don't know that answer to that,” he replied, “but yes, I'm positive that you have the ability. Your eyes, they were glowing when you first woke from your nightmare. It's a rather obvious indication of telekinesis. Plus, now that I know it's there, I can feel its presence in your mind.”

 

“I'm not sure I know how to use it,” the teen leaned his weary form further against the telepath's warm body.

 

“Don't worry about that right now,” Schuldig whispered. “Brad and I can teach you how to access the power. For now, you need to sleep.” He felt the exhausted archer nod against his shoulder. He moved to lay the blonde against his pillow and rose to return to his chair, but a hand grasping his wrist halted his steps.

 

“Please,” blue eyes seemed to beg along with whispered words. “I don't want to be alone right now,” he took a shaky breath. “Every time I close my eyes…” he trailed off and turned his head in embarrassment, though there was nothing wrong with wanting to feel safe after his ordeal.

 

“It's okay,” the German offered a smile. “I understand completely.” Those were the last words spoken between the two as Schuldig settled himself on the bed and pulled the archer into his protective embrace. The next morning would find a young, brunette woman opening the door and gently smiling at the sight of the peaceful scene after such a devastating night; she would leave them there without waking them, content to let her friends turn their troubles over to the Sandman for at least a little while.

 

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“Damn it! This isn't working,” Omi shouted. He was feeling rather frustrated at the moment. It had been two weeks since the telekinesis had manifested, and he was trying to learn to control it. So far, he could lift small objects and `float' them for a few minutes before they would succumb to gravitational forces. What really pissed him off was that he knew he was stronger than that; he had instinctually proven that fact when his life was on the line.

 

“Be patient,” Crawford told him for what had to be the tenth time in the past hour. “It took Nagi two years of grueling training to reach his full potential, and there is absolutely no way either Schuldig or I will force you to endure that.” Hearing that calmed the archer a bit; Nagi had told him only bits and pieces of time he spent in a place called Rosenkreuz, and though he didn't know all the gory details, he knew it was as far from pleasant as it could get.

 

“I know,” the blonde sighed. “I'm sure I'll get it eventually,” he tried to be optimistic. “How are things going with Aya?” Omi changed the subject, hoping to ease the tension he was feeling.

 

“Her training is coming along rather nicely,” the American stated. Not even a full day after the attack on Omi, Aya had discovered that she harbored a bit of psychic power as well. It seemed that although the Elder's hadn't managed to even perform the summoning ritual with her body, she was still affected by it. Her ability was complimentary to Crawford's. Whereas he could look into the future, she could look into the past. The ability made itself known while she was sparring with Kitada. The red haired woman had been chatting about something personal, and Aya went stock still halfway through the story. When she snapped out of her daze she looked directly into green eyes and finished the tale, able to describe every last detail. It wasn't long after that, that they had figured out what happened, and now everyday, both she and Omi would train with either Schuldig or Crawford.

 

“That's good,” the blonde commented. “Maybe once she has a better grasp of her power, she can see what really happened at the tower. It may be the only way we'll ever find out… Though I am getting close to finding the identity of the person behind all this.”

 

“You're ahead of schedule,” the precog was surprised at the off-handed statement before he narrowed suspicious brown eyes. “You haven't been sleeping, have you,” he accused more than asked. The archer had the good grace to look at least a little guilty.

 

“I haven't really been able to,” he admitted. “Ever since that night… every time I close my eyes… I guess I'm afraid of what I'll see while I sleep.” Crawford sighed. He knew the teen had bounced back too fast; he just wasn't sure how Omi was actually dealing with it.

 

“You can't do that to yourself, Omi,” the dark haired man reprimanded.

 

“He can't do what to himself,” a feminine voice broke into the conversation; Kitada was apparently getting ready for a work out.

 

“He's not sleeping,” Crawford replied to which the woman shook her head. It really frustrated the archer to know that, although he was eighteen, he had two people who tried to parent him as if he were still five. It had really surprised him when it was Crawford who tried to be the father-figure; apparently the man, after having lost two of his teammates, one of which he had practically raised, realized that he couldn't afford to play the part of the stoic, cold-hearted leader. Instead, he met himself half-way, being more open around his new team while at the same time maintaining the attributes that made him a respectable and trustworthy leader.

 

“Look,” Omi interrupted. “I know it's not healthy, but there's really nothing any of us can do about it. I need time, and you both need to realize that I've been capable of taking care of myself since I was twelve.” He sent a pointed look in Kitada's direction. “You made sure of that.” Identical sighs of resignation came from the two eldest; they knew that everything the archer had said was true, but they just couldn't quash the urge to mother-hen him to death. They also tended to act that way with Aya, who by all rights was eighteen as well, though her physique was that of a sixteen year old. The two youngest put up with their overprotective natures for the most part. However, occasionally, one of them would remind `mom' or `dad' that they wouldn't be able to protect them when the fighting started. Even Ran had long since given up trying to protect his little sister knowing that she would be fighting alongside him when the time came; she would also do well against any opponent, having proven extremely efficient with a whip, of all things. A loud crash broke the two eldest from their wandering thoughts. Looking up, they saw that, once again, Omi had dropped his latest attempt at using his power and was now softly cursing himself under his breath.

 

“Maybe I really do need some sleep,” the archer suddenly said, more to himself than the others. “If I wasn't so tired, maybe this wouldn't be as difficult.” Wisely, neither Kitada nor Crawford chose to comment; they knew the teen was correct in his self-assessment, and they didn't feel it necessary to comment seeing as how the archer had proven that he was, in fact, very capable of figuring out his own weaknesses. Plus, it would have been rather childish for either of them to say `I told you so'.

 

“I'll see you guys later,” Omi said as he walked towards the door. The teen turned to the right and headed up the flight of stairs, making his way towards his bedroom. As he was passing by the door leading to Schuldig's room, he thought he heard a muffled sob. Deciding to find out what was bothering his friend, the telekinetic made a detour, knocking softly before entering the German's room.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked as the telepath raised a tear-streaked face upon hearing the archer's footsteps. The man didn't need to reply as Omi immediately spotted the source of the twenty-three year old's depression. In his hand was an old picture of Yohji smiling with an arm draped over Schuldig's shoulders. Almost instantly, Omi lowered himself to the floor and wrapped his arms around the telepath, understanding exactly how his friend felt; Omi was prone to doing the same thing when he would come across photos depicting the happiness he had once shared with Nagi.

 

“It's still so raw,” Schuldig's voice was thick with emotion.

 

“I know,” the archer whispered, running a hand over long, green hair. “I know,” he repeated just as softly. Slowly, he pulled the older assassin back to lean against him as he put his own back against the side of the bed. They stayed that way for nearly an hour before the German finally fell asleep. Not having the heart to wake his friend, Omi leaned his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes. The combination of sleepless nights and emotional trauma soon found the blonde following the telepath into the world if dreams. For the first time since the night Schuldig had stayed with him, Omi's slumber was nightmare-free.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------- -------

 

“I know what happened,” Aya announced at their weekly meeting, interrupting something that Kitada was saying.

 

“Care to enlighten us as to what you're talking about,” was the dry response from the golden-eyed German. For his sarcastic efforts, he received a glare from chocolate colored eyes.

 

“As I was trying to say,” Aya continued, glaring at the telepath one more time for good measure. “I know what happened at Esset's tower.” That statement was more than enough to give everyone in the room whiplash as they snapped their heads to stare in awe at the brunette.

 

“When did this happen?” Ran asked his sister, voice barely above a whisper. He was about to find out why two of the people he cared for most in the world had to die. The others looked just as anxious as he did.

 

“I zoned out while Omi was giving some details about his latest hacking breakthrough,” she replied. “Anyway, I wasn't able to find out who is behind all of this, but I did see the events as they played out.” Everyone looked at the girl with expectant eyes. “While Weiss was freeing Sakura and Schwartz was trying to wake me up, the last Elder had run off, correct?” At the various nods of confirmation she went on. “Well, he didn't immediately go to the room where I was; instead, he contacted someone he was conspiring with against his own comrades. Apparently, whoever is behind this had struck some sort of deal with him.” She paused to take a breath. “I wasn't able to hear what was said, but before he went in search of Schwartz, he raised his hands and summoned his power, effectively collapsing the entire support structure of the building.” Aya turned her gaze to Omi. “The explosion you set off did not cause the building to collapse.” The blonde looked infinitely relieved at hearing that; he had been blaming himself for months, and nothing anyone could say made him think any differently, at least not until now.

 

“So the deal that Esset bastard made with our new enemy was the unknown factor,” Crawford reasoned.

 

“Yes,” the young woman confirmed.

 

“Now all that's left is to find out who it was,” Kitada spoke up.

 

“And gather our allies,” Ran finished for her.

 

“Speaking of allies,” Omi interjected. “I found the Crashers; only two of them are left: Knight and Pawn. Bishop and Rook were killed during their escape from Japan.” Ran looked pained at the news but quickly recovered himself; he would grieve for his lost friends later.

 

“Where are they, and can you contact them?” the American asked.

 

“They're hiding in Australia, for now; they move around quite a bit, which is why it has been so difficult to track them,” the blonde replied. “And yes, I can contact them. What do you want the message to say?”

 

“I think we should leave that up to Ran,” Kitada suggested. “He's the only one of us who had any real association with them, more so than even I had, and would be more likely to come up with something that doesn't make them think we're leading them into a trap.” The crimson haired swordsman nodded his willingness to comply.

 

“We can send the message once we've finished here,” he told Omi. “I already have a fairly good idea of how it should read.”

 

“Okay,” the archer agreed before continuing with his next piece of information. “I also managed to track the activities of rogue Esset cell we've been considering.”

 

“What did you find?” the precog asked.

 

“You were correct in assuming they wouldn't be worth the effort,” the teen replied. “They've been performing some rather questionable tasks as of late. The assignments they take on are extremely similar to those we've managed to connect to this new organization we're after.”

 

“Then, assuming we can get the remaining members of the Crashers to join us,” Schuldig began, “we're basically a team of eight taking on an entire army, half of which are bound to have some sort of psychic ability.” For once, the telepath's voice held none of its sarcastic quality; things were looking very grim at the moment.

 

“The only thing we can do is keep trying,” Ran stated, violet eyes shining with determination. “We will make them pay for the doubtless countless lives they've stolen in order to achieve their goals.” The fact that those countless lives weren't really what had them so full of resolve to defeat their adversary went unspoken; it was well known that they were fighting to avenge the deaths of their friends, the number of which had just increased to six.

 

“And once we have the name of the instigator, the only missing piece of the puzzle,” Crawford started, his glasses giving off that confident glint for the first time months, “we'll be able to ensure our victory.”

 

 

TBC

Translations:

Tu nous dedommageras de la chasse que tu nous as causé

-You will pay for making us chasse you (literally: you will compensate us for the chase that you gave us)

Tu crieras pour nous

-You will scream for us

Arrêtez

-Stop

 

End of chapter note: I needed a telekinetic, and I wasn't about to bring in some OC for that, so Omi got the part. I'll eventually bring out a less vague explanation of how that actually happened. Also, as opposed to my other fic, Knight and Ran have never had a romantic relationship; this will definitely be a CxR/RxC, and their casual interactions won't start up until next chapter. Due to the circumstances in the fic, the core relationships are going to build up fairly slowly, so don't expect too much action for awhile. I do have the secondary pairings worked out, though, and they won't be as difficult to develop, so I can promise a little lime-ish action by around chapter 8 or 9. As for the language barrier; they've only been living in France for about six months, and even though they learned the language, they wouldn't be fluent in such a relatively short period of time, thus Omi would most likely have to translate the words rather than actually be able to think in the foreign language.