Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ When the Levee Breaks ❯ Fracture ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Pairings: Yohji +/x Aya, Schuldig x Aya

Warnings: AU, spoilers for Kapitel series and portions of Verbrachen Strafe, m/m relationships, lemon, dubious consent, violence, language

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of its characters. I merely use them for my own amusement.

When the Levee Breaks

Chapter 1: Fracture

Killing had never come easy.

While others in his situation could perhaps fool themselves into thinking that it was all for the greater good, and that the murder of so-called `dark beasts' could somehow be justified, he wasn't one of them.

Kudoh Yohji was no one's fool, despite all evidence to the contrary.

However, striking down the despicable could be undeniably fulfilling.

With knowledge borne of experience, he realised that not only would strangling the life out of this bastard be supremely satisfying, but it was proving to be surprisingly easy. The fucking mindreader wasn't even putting up much of a fight, his futile squirming doing little to unseat him. No, he wouldn't be thrown from his place on the other man's hips, riding out the thrusting and bucking of the redhead beneath him.

In another time and another place, he would have found himself growing uncomfortably aroused. The desperation of the movements however, prevented that nicely.

Instead he focused on the feel of the wire in his hands, the flexing of his own muscles as he twisted it tighter, then tighter still. The other man had gone down easy to be sure, but he was taking a long time to die. Even now his fingers were latched beneath the wire, keeping the worst of the pressure from his throat. A ribbon of blood bloomed from the effort, spattering the wooden floorboards beneath them. His own blood rained down on Schuldig's face, reminding him of just how close he had come to death. He had returned to his apartment to find the Schwartz telepath standing in the middle of his room, seemingly surveying his surroundings. Yohji had burst into action, gloves forgotten in his rage and haste, throwing out the wire to ensnare the enemy before him without thought. The look of surprise on the redhead's face had sparked something inside of him, and before he knew it, he had tackled the other young man, throwing them both to the floor. Apparently stunned by the fall, Schuldig had not struggled when Yohji moved to straddle him, nor when the garrote was wrapped around his throat. In fact, he had barely moved as the other man had done his best to strangle the life out of him; not until he managed to catch the brunette's eye did he even reach up and try to divert the force of the wire.

The man was trying to mouth something, but Yohji focused on tightening his weapon. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Schuldig's lips moving, as well as the slightly blue tint they were beginning to take on. Just a little more then, but…

He didn't know exactly how the man's power worked, but he wasn't about to take any chances. Pulling on the wire, he was satisfied when the man's upper body was forced to follow. After a moment of deliberation, he reversed the trajectory, rapping the telepath's head strongly against the floor, ignoring the startled noise of pain that burst from between the man's lips. When Schuldig's fingers slipped from beneath the wire, Yohji was ready. He tightened it fiercely, feeling the body beneath him go as taut as a bowstring, Schuldig's struggles renewed with a fervor that Yohji could easily understand.

It had become dangerously clear to the both of them that Schuldig was going to die.

If he wished to, Yohji could, with a flick of the wrist, simply sever the man's jugular and leave him to bleed out on the floor. It would be a relatively quick death, and in Yohji's mind, much more than the bastard deserved. No; he was going to ride it out and make sure the prick felt every last second of it, to give him back just a fraction of the suffering he had inflicted on his teammates. Schuldig's antics had left Omi irrevocably scarred, and Aya…Aya had nearly been broken. Given this chance, he couldn't afford to fuck up. Not again. If this was what it took to redeem himself, so be it.

Just as he was about to withdraw his weapon and finish the job by hand, Schuldig's movements began to weaken, his hands rising to scrape ineffectually at the other man's shoulders. There was a queer rattling noise from somewhere in the other man's chest, and a renewed burst of strength as he clawed and scratched at Yohji's back. Wincing at the pain, the oldest member of Weiss increased the pressure, and his opponent's face twisted violently.

A flash of violet.

Yohji's arms threatened to give under the strain, but still he held on, determined to see it through. This was for Ouka, and Aya-chan, and even Sakura…for Omi, and for Aya. For Aya, who had been sucked into this life partly due to this fucker, and had been tormented by him ever since.

“Just die already.” He hissed, barely flinching as the man's nails raked the unprotected skin of his throat. “Just fucking die!”

Schuldig's eyes squeezed shut, his face darkening rapidly, movements stilling slowly. Yohji watched as his eyelids fluttered and he gasped for air, hands rising to weakly paw at the length around his throat before…

He jerked back as one rose to touch his face, but he was too late. Schuldig managed to cup one cheek, fingers sliding up and then down in a near caress, before falling away entirely.

It didn't take much longer. The man's body went completely lax, his face relaxing even as Yohji tightened the wire once more, reflexively.

A few more minutes passed before Yohji was able to unwind his wire from around the man's throat, his own heart thudding violently in his chest. He climbed off of Schuldig and scooted backwards until he hit the wall, legs akimbo. There he sat, staring at the body, breath coming in short pants. Shit. He had actually done it.

The intimacy of the kill was not lost on him. It hadn't felt exactly like that since, well…at this he frowned, rubbing his hand over his face before pulling it away in disgust. It was still spattered with his own blood.

The sound of clapping startled him from his reverie.

“Bravo.” Schuldig loomed in the open doorway, a look of satisfaction on his face.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“You're dead.” Yohji said stupidly. He had just strangled the bastard, and here he was for a second round. Had the telepath managed to fuck with his mind somehow?

“Bingo.” Schuldig was bemused, cocking his head to the side and looking the playboy up and down. “Of course, it didn't take much of an effort, Kudoh.”

Yohji's vision swam, rage rising to the fore. “I fucking killed you!”

The other man shook his head, a brief grin flitting across his lips. “Not quite, depp.” He looked pointedly over Yohji's shoulder, at the body sprawled inelegantly on the floor.

Despite his best efforts and unwillingness to turn his back on the German, he found himself following Schuldig`s gaze, his eyes immediately drawn to the feature closest to him: the man's hair.

It was the wrong shade of red.

“If I'd known that this would work so well, I would have tried it years ago.” Schuldig mused, leaning against the open door.

Yohji barely heard him. He couldn't believe it…he just couldn't.

“I'm flattered that you went after me with such zeal, Balinese. Poor Abyssinian didn't stand a chance.”

He'd killed Aya with his own two hands. He'd murdered one of the few people he cared about and could call a friend.

“You…son of a bitch.” Yohji murmured, still staring at his teammate's still body in disbelief. Aya's right arm lay arched above his head, but it couldn't conceal his expression. Unlike most of their targets, he looked remarkably peaceful, almost as though he really was asleep. Only the angry red line around his throat proved otherwise. The older man reached out, hand trembling, desperate to touch the younger redhead and prove that this was all a dream. “Aya…”

“Uh uh.” Schuldig swiped carelessly at his side with one foot, and Yohji went down gasping for air. “You've had your fun…now it's my turn.”

When he managed to catch his breath, Yohji propped himself up on his forearms, determined to get to his feet. Though his ribs howled in pain with each movement, he managed to slide into a crouch. Still hunched over, he grabbed out with one hand as the German strode past, heading towards Aya. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Schuldig regarded him with vague amusement, lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. “Retrieving my prize, of course.” Shaking Yohji off, he continued on towards Aya's body, ignoring the brunette's shouts behind him. He stopped beside the young man's body, eyeing him critically. “You really did a number on him, Balinese. I'm impressed.”

Yohji saw red, and moved to stand again, ignoring his body's protests. “Stay away from him!”

The telepath paid no attention, stooping beside Aya and lifting one of his arms gently. He pulled, raising the redhead's upper body, and Yohji winced at the sight of Aya's head lolling on his neck. Schuldig continued to ignore him, propping Aya into a sitting position and running a finger over the mark on his neck, hand rising to rub a spot of dried blood from the corpse's cheek.

Yohji tried again. “Leave him alone, you fucking bastard!”

Schuldig spared him a look, then turned his attention back to the body in his arms. Aya hung limp in his grasp, the colour slowly leeching from his face until it was a sickly white, nearly translucent. Seemingly satisfied, Schuldig placed the redhead's arms over one of his own shoulders, then stood, shifting his weight easily. He had Aya in a fireman's carry. Yohji looked on, confused. What the hell did the man think he was doing? Suddenly a thought struck him, and he recoiled in disgust and terror, scrambling to his feet. Surely Krittiker's earlier efforts had proven fruitful? Surely they couldn't possibly want Aya's body for that?

An empty vessel.

Schuldig's smile grew wider, and Yohji rushed forward, determined to kill the man and retrieve his fallen teammate. There was no way he and the rest of Weiss were going through that again, and no way he was letting this asshole get out of here with Aya's body. The man was going to be laid to rest properly, it was the least he could do after…

The guilt hit him suddenly, painfully, and he dropped to his knees more than two feet from Schuldig, defeated. His vision swam and he tried to block out the telepath, whose smug voice finally overwhelmed him.

“I win.”

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was one of Aya's palms, fingers slack and stained with blood.

Notes: Oof, another Weiss fic! You may not have realised it yet, but I enjoy fucking with Yohji quite a bit. As such, expect lots of angst and Yohji torture throughout the story, as well as a healthy dose of Schuldig's patented brand of mindfuck. I'm still working on the next chapter of DD, and hope to alternate between the two stories…as well as finish up a few of my non-Weiss WIP fics.