Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Zweiter Chancen ❯ A Breath Away ( Chapter 12 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

*****12*****


Emery felt terrible. A massive headache, muscle pains, a fever, and a stomach that insists on doing backflips and cartwheels, have all shown up to wish him a fine - unbearable - good morning. He slept in, he must have, because the sun glaring into his eyes from the window is higher in the sky than it should be. Turning his head, he realizes that he is in bed alone. In...Ran’s bed alone. Where has the pale red-head gone, and why did he allow Emery to sleep until -

“One o’clock!!” the young German cries, grasping the clock radio in disbelief. He instantly regrets jolting up so abruptly, and crumbles back down onto the bed. “Ohhh...he musta let me sleep because of this fever...and...uhh...oh, yuck...I feel like I’m gonna throw up...”

“Don’t even think about it.” interrupts a commanding, deep, male voice. Ran slips into the room, carrying a wet cloth and a pale of water.

Omi follows closely behind with a bowl of soup, but Emery waves it away, the very idea making him turn 50 shades of green. “But...Emmy-chan...you have to eat something.” the blonde insists, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The body can’t heal without food.”

“Wh...what’s wrong with me, anyway...?” Emery groans, shivering a little as Ran places the cloth on his burning forehead.

“I was hoping you could tell *us* that.” the taller man replies. “I’ve never heard of anyone coming down with something so severe in so short a time. I woke up to you drenched in sweat and shifting around like you were in agony.”

“...I am...”

“Then maybe a bite to eat will -”

“Uhhh....” Emery groans, shooting down Omi’s renewed try at getting something solid in his stomach.

“Fine.” Omi grumbles, heading back out of the room. “But I’ll be back sooner or later, so toughen up. You’re skinny enough as it is. We don’t want you to waste away on us.”

Despite his aching...everything, Emery smiles meekly as Omi leaves the room, and then shifts to look at Ran, who has taken Omi’s place on the bed.

Bringing the back of his hand gently to Emery’s cheek, Ran tests the temperature of the boy’s flushed skin. “You’re practically on fire.” he comments, tight-lipped and very serious. “I don’t like this. It doesn’t make any sense. Omi keeps this place sterile enough to survive *Youji’s* constant escapades; we hardly ever get sick around here.”

“...stop.” Emery breathes, his mind reeling in a haze so thick he can barely see through it. “You sound...too worried...you’re scaring me...”

Ran grimaces, pulling his outstretched hand back to his side. “I wish I didn’t have to sound so worried, but I think...we *all* think...this is a sign...that your time is almost up.”

If Emery wasn’t truly frightened before, he certainly is now. “Don’t say that...please...”

“It’s the only thing that explains it. The spell should have worn off days ago, but here you are. You’re body can’t handle it anymore, and you’re fighting the change.”

“Of course I’m fighting it!!” Emery cries, trying to sit up, but succeeding only in collapsing back again. “I...I don’t want to turn back...”

Almost impossibly gentle and caring, even after the previous night’s revelations between them, Ran brings a hand to Emery’s face again, this time holding his chin within those white fingers, while brushing a stubborn tear away with his thumb.

Ran wants to offer comfort, but how can he? What comfort can he possibly give? Anything he says would be a lie, and wouldn’t be fair to Emery, even if the young boy wants to hear one.

“Think of all that has happened in these short, impossible days.” Ran begins, still holding Emery’s face in his hand. “You’ve beaten every odd so far. Even me. And I am *never* beaten. Being around you, how I’ve started to act in so short a time, takes *me* by surprise, and I usually don’t like surprises, either. Everything about this is impossible. But you *will* turn back into Schuldrich, that is certain. Fighting it will only make you feel worse.”

“Are you...telling me to give up...?” Emery whimpers, allowing a few more tears to slip down his sickly-pale cheeks.

“No. I am asking you to give *in*. At least for a moment. And once you become him again, you can take back control and remain who you are.” Ran’s voice fades away, almost before he can finish what he had meant to say, and his hand slips away as well. It slips away, but only to find the weakened grip of Emery’s fingers as he laces his own between them. “Perhaps this, too, seems impossible, but that is why I believe you can do it.”

Leaning forward, Ran brushes his lips against Emery’s forehead, remaining close enough for his breath to tickle the boy’s skin when he pulls away. Emery blushes, longing to see that minuscule smile on the red-head’s face stretch wider.

“Besides...” Ran starts in again, pulling back completely. “...if you grow up, I can stop feeling like such a pedifile. It’s bad for my brooding image to act so motherly.”

Emery laughs right in Ran’s face at that. He can’t help it; the serious, and yet almost humorous way Ran had said it, was one of the funniest things he’d ever heard in his life. Or, at least, remembered hearing.

An elegantly raised eyebrow appraises this childish laughter, but Ran eventually relaxes into a slightly larger smile than he had allowed before, even if laughing along is a little bit more than he can offer.

“Danke...Ran.” Emery smiles, still feeling absolutely horrible from one nerve-ending to all the others, but feeling at least a little bit better where it counts.


*****


“Where are you going?”

No reply.

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?”

Silence.

“Are you really going to kill him?”

Still nothing.

“How can you do this?”

Not a single, solitary word.

“Farfarello, answer - !”

Swish! A knife cuts through the air and stops right at the base of little Nagi’s neck. The boy freezes, beads of sweat instantly collecting on his forehead.

Following his teammate outside and into the rapidly approaching night, Nagi feared the worst, and with good reason. Now, the Irishman has whirled around, and is holding the boy’s shoulders with one powerful hand, while the other holds that deadly knife.

“I’m going to the flower shop. Yes, I am going there because of him. Yes, I plan to kill him if he is still that sniveling, little boy. And the reason I can...is because I can.” Farfie growls, pulling Nagi in close, pressed up against him. “Do you really want to try and stop me...Nagi?”

The young telekinetic has been holding his breath, and only now releases it, shuddering at the feel of cold steel against his skin. “I...I won’t let you do it!” he screams, tears springing to his eyes from the pressure of Farfarello’s vice-like grip on his shoulder.

Narrowing his golden eye, Farfarello increases that grip, forcing Nagi to cry out in pain. The courage in Nagi’s words are brave and just, but not smart.

“Ah! Le...let me go!” Nagi pleads. “Don’t...make me hurt you...”

“Hurt *me*?” Farf barks, hardly intimidated.

He knows full well that Nagi has the power to rip him apart - that boy is probably the most powerful of them all. Problem is, he is rarely focused enough, fearless enough, to unleash what he is truly capable of.

“Why don’t you turn around, go back inside, and crawl under the covers, little boy.” Farfarello sneers, pulling Nagi even closer, if possible. “I can’t hurt you for real, because Crawford would see it coming and kill me first. I can, however, come very close. I can cause you just enough pain to haunt you for weeks before doing any serious damage. To hell with being punished. I *will* hurt you if you continue standing in my way.”

Deja vu. Nagi is tossed back, landing roughly on the cold, hard, unrelenting ground just outside Schwartz headquarters. Farfarello turns on his heels, back the way he had been heading, and leaves Nagi there, left behind in the dirt.

Most days, Farfarello is the only member of Schwartz Nagi feels comfortable around. He can’t talk to Brad, because the American is always so busy, and has never been the loving, father type. He can’t usually talk to Schu, either, because the German always seems to be playing with his mind. But he can talk to Farf. He usually can, anyway. Knowing to stray from topics like God and family, Nagi and Farfarello talk mainly about everyday life, as well as about their fellow teammates. Nagi isn’t stupid enough to skip into Farf’s room on one of the Irishman’s more “off” days, but they get along. Until now. Now, Farfarello’s little obsession - his strange connection to Schu and their similar love for hurting the masses - has taken over.

Slowly getting up from the ground and rubbing what will be a very bruised arm in the morning, Nagi watches Farfarello leave, knowing he has the power to stop what is about to happen, but unable to see past the fear holding him back.


*****


“Feeling better, chibi?”

Emery opens his weary eyes, still lying in Ran’s bed with the covers pulled up to his neck. He smiles with a little more strength than he had that morning as Youji enters, carrying what appears to be a bowl of soup.

“Omi made me bring it.” the blonde explains, noticing the not so enthusiastic look Emery is giving the offered meal. “Don’t snub it; you haven’t eaten all day. You look better, though. Not quite as chalky as you were this morning.”

Sitting up to begrudgingly accept the bowl of soup, Emery nods, grateful for Youji’s unique compliment, and glad to be feeling more alive and well.

“See, I told you eating was a good idea.” Omi grins, bounding in to join them just as Emery is about to start in on the soup.

“Just giving in, Omi-chan.” Emery smiles sadly in reply. The others don’t know yet. They don’t know why he suddenly feels better, but he knows full well that he has to tell them. “Ehh...where’s Ken-san? I -”

“Right here, Em.” the brunette in questions responds, slipping in to add to the group surrounding Emery’s bed. Well, Ran’s bed, but it certainly seems to be Emery’s right now. “Finally closed up shop for the day.” Ken grins, crouching down on the floor, since spots on the bed are already taken. “How ya doin’? Ice Queen Aya has been extra tense all day with you feeling so crummy. You sure have a strange affect on him.”

Emery blushes. The other don’t know *that*, either, but he isn’t about to give away all of his secrets. “I...I’m glad you’re all here. I have to...tell you something.”

The members of Weiss look on earnestly, flashing each other a few worried looks, and tossing questioning glances at Ran when he finally sneaks in behind them, leaning against the wall.

Everyone is there - everyone who needs to be. Sadly, in Emery’s mind, it may be the last time he ever sees them this way. Watching him with caring eyes. Thinking of him like an added member to the family. And treating him like a human being, something Schuldrich hasn’t been in years.

“I felt sick today, because...my body wants to change back...and my mind wouldn’t let it.” The young red-head begins, his soup long forgotten and placed on the nightstand. “I can’t fight it forever, and if I try, I’ll just end up killing myself from the fever. I...I’m so sorry...but I’ve decided...to stop fighting altogether.”

Green, blue, and brown eyes all widen in realization. Violet eyes remain still. It had to come to this eventually.

“I can feel the memories trying to push their way back...so close...” Emery whispers, closing his eyes, and allowing a strange wave to wash over him. The others do not feel what he feels, but they certainly see it. Something unexplainable quivers over Emery’s face, like static on a Television screen. “All I have to do is drop my defenses, and...it’ll all rush back. After that...it’s only a matter of time...maybe minutes...maybe seconds...and I’ll be...” Emery opens his eyes. “...Schuldrich.”

“Hold on a minute!” Youji cries, standing up from his perch on the bed. “Stop fighting? Let it all rush back? If you can fight it...then fight it!”

“Youji -” Ran tries, looking even more serious than usual.

“Don’t.” the blonde cuts in. “I’m sure your immense wisdom put these thoughts into his head, but to me it sounds like losing hope, and I’m not ready to do that yet!”

“Yotan...” Omi squeaks, getting up from his perch as well, and placing a calming hand on Youji’s arm. “...think about what you’re saying. I don’t want to lose Emery more than any of us do, but...we can’t fight nature.”

“He’s right.” Ken chimes in sadly, standing up from the floor. “One way or another, this *is* gonna happen. Better if we’re prepared for it, ne?”

Moving in closer to the group now, Ran joins his circle of friends, all hovering over Emery while ganging up on Youji at the same time. Soon, the noted playboy has no choice but to back down. He knows they’re right. The fantasy of second chances without repercussions was merely wishful thinking.

“I’m not going anywhere, just...growing up.” Emery offers, eyeing his newfound friends as they settle back into their places. This time, Ran moves around to the other side of the bed and sits beside him. “I promise I’ll stay. I’m still me. I’ll still be me. I won’t let the...the monster I was...change the man I want to be.”

Even through his heartfelt words, tears begin falling from Emery’s bright blue eyes. He wants so badly to believe what he is telling them is the truth, but he just doesn’t know. There is no way he can be certain Schuldrich will retain what he has found. There is no way to know if Schuldrich will even care.

“I...I want...” Emery tries, wracked with sobs, and unable to lift his gaze back up and look his companions in the eyes. “I just...want...” he sniffles, but the words won’t come.

Boldly, Ran shifts his position on the edge of the bed and pulls the sobbing boy against his chest, tenderly stroking the tousled fire of his hair. A mild glance of surprise or even disapproval may have shot out from one or more of the other men around them, but nothing was spoken aloud to protest. All in all, anything that can melt a little of Aya’s ice is a good thing, and anything that can comfort Emery right now is even better.

“Ich...will mit ihnen bleiben...andauernd...” Emery whimpers into the folds of Ran’s shirt, addressing his slip of the German tongue to Ran as much as to everyone else.

“Forever...is a very long time.” Ran replies, and everyone takes a major double-take in how he knew how to reply at all.

“You speak German, Aya-kun?” Omi inquires curiously.

“Enough to understand ‘forever’, and to know that as much as we want Emery to stay, we have to be practical.”

“What are you saying...?” Youji presses.

Ran looks over at him across the bed, to Omi on the far end, and Ken lower on the floor. They’ll understand. And Emery has to, too. “I’m saying...let’s have faith...and wait and see what happens. Are you ready...Emery?”

Gradually raising his damp eyes from Ran’s even damper chest, Emery stares up at him, and turns slightly to follow his gaze over the same path Ran just followed.

Youji. Omi. Ken. And back again. Back to Ran, the most beautiful creature in the world. Sometimes a week can feel like a missed lifetime, and that is exactly what Emery is about to lose.

“I can do this...if you stay...” Emery whispers. “...if all of you stay...maybe Emery will stay, too...”

Release. Emery’s arms are still wrapped around Ran as they had been while he cried so helplessly, but there is a definite release in his eyes. Followed...by a cascade of far more than he expected...into his mind.

(...Emery Schuldaussen...you are property of Rosenkreuz now...property of Estet...)

Emery jerks, tossing his head back in a downpour of orange strands.

(...Welcome to Schwartz...Mr. Schuldaussen...)

Small arms cling tighter to Ran, even as the young boy’s back arches in pain.

(...I’m not Emery Schuldaussen anymore, *Mr* Crawford...forget you ever heard the name...call me...)

Biting his lower lip to suppress a scream, Emery releases Ran’s now bruised neck, falling back onto the bed. The others can hear nothing of what he is hearing, feel nothing of what he is feeling, but they can see what this release, this rush, is doing to him. Again and again that same flicker passes over his features, his entire body, like a ripple in time.

(...Schuldrich, stop wasting time...we’re here to retrieve our new member...and I will not have you riling up every mental patient we pass...)

Emery’s back arches again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, completely devoid of any focus.

(...Don’t be so uptight, Naggles...I’m just jerking your chain...it’s fun messing with people’s minds...even if you’re on the same side...)

One by one, Weiss has moved in tighter to watch over their writhing comrade, but as much as they feel they should hold him down or speak soothing words, they know there is nothing they can do. Besides, he appears to be changing right before their eyes.

(...Punishment’s over, Farf...next time, don’t be so eager to slaughter an innocent little kid...I love a good bloodbath as much as the next evil villain...but you know what a tight ass Brad can be...)

Emery’s eyes are growing more narrow, his features more sharp and mature, and his body seems to stretch and swell more and more with every tense of his broadening muscles.

(...Stupid Weiss...what were you thinking...you can’t beat us...nothing can kill us...we...are Schwartz...your worst nightmare...)

The quiver of supernatural shifts is slowing, and Emery looks hardly like himself at all. His hair is the same, his eyes the same shade of blue, but he is no longer a child. The T-shirt and boxers he had been wearing are stretched and torn, but still holding together enough to keep him covered. They were old clothes of Omi’s, but it is very doubtful the youngest member of Weiss is thinking much about that right now.

(...who am I...hehehe...I...am...)

“...Schuldrich...” he gasps, collapsing back completely, his body suddenly still.

The others remain still as well, unable to move, too stunned by what they have just witnessed. In so short a time, Emery, their Emery, has once again become their enemy. At least, on the outside.

The German’s eyes had closed after breathing out his renewed name, but now they suddenly open, wide and wild, aware and yet still somewhat dazed. They dart from one member of Weiss to another, afraid, panicking.

His whole body is exhausted, his mind completely worn out, but he struggles to remain awake and alert, desperately grasping at something that is quickly drifting away.

At last, he rests his crazed blue eyes on Ran, still seated beside him, and grabs onto the red-head’s arm tightly. “I...I don’t want this...” he whispers, his voice sounding so much deeper now. “...help me...don’t let me leave...”

“Calm down.” Ran commands, wincing at the strength in that grip. “You’re not going anywhere. You -”

“Please...” he cuts in, squeezing tighter, and looking beseechingly to all the others. “...don’t hate me...I can’t stop it...”

His breathing is ragged, his eyes drifting closed. He won’t last much longer.

“It’s going to be okay.” Omi smiles from the far end of the bed. “Just look. You’re -”

“No!” he cries, vainly fighting back as Ran and Youji push him down on the bed and pull the covers back up again. “...you...don’t understand...”

“Just get some rest, okay?” Ken soothes, smiling from his crouched position near the German’s pillow. “You’re about ready to burn out on us.”

“I...I have to...stay awake...” he mumbles, already giving in to the call of fatigue. “...I have to...protect you...”

Youji raises a curious eyebrow at that, before brotherly patting the frantic young man on the head. “Let us worry about protecting you right now, chibi.” Awkward pause. The title really doesn’t fit anymore. “I mean...urrr...just...don’t worry about anything. We’ll take care of you.”

“Listen to me! You...have to...listen...I can hear...thoughts...”

“That’s normal, remember.” Omi consoles.

“...not these...” he whimpers back, almost completely gone now. “...he...he’s coming for me...”

And the battle is lost. The now older, German red-head is asleep.

“What do you think he meant by that?” Ken asks softly, following the others out of the room. They decided it was probably a good idea to let the young man sleep.

“Who knows?” Youji shrugs. “He was delirious. Let’s just eat some supper and forget it for now. When he wakes up...then we’ll know what we have to deal with.”

That is...unless “he” gets there first...