A/N: Just a short piece I wrote some time ago. It was intended to be a one shot, but I think it will turn out into a long story.

Disclamer: Not mine! –cries- I’m not making any money with it either. I’m just borrowing the characters, torture them a bit and give them back.

Characters: Brad Crawford, Aya (Ran) Fujimiya, Schuldig

Summary: Set during the first days since Aya joined Weiss. He’s plagued by dreams of a red-haired stranger.

/telepathy/

Breach

Aya lay on his back staring at the ceiling of what for all intents and purposes was his new home. Things had changed so much in such a short time that he was having trouble dealing with them. It was a month ago that he had joined Weiss, his path of vengeance. He had two clear thoughts in his head, being the death of those who destroyed his life and earn enough money to help his only living relative.

He had expected death would claim his life in the explosion, but what he had found was life. Yet it was a strange life that he did not quite understand. He was working as a florist during daylight to keep up the appearance of a normal young man trying to make a living and at night he killed people.

Turning on his side he starred at the wall forcing his tired body to stay awake. Dealing with teenage girls in the shop on daily basis who did not buy anything was tiresome. He vaguely wondered how the blond one, Youji, could enjoy their clingy attention. Adding the tension and horrors brought by missions he hardly could close his eyes in fear of dreaming them all over again and recently he was plagued by dreams of a foreigner with red hair and oddly coloured eyes.

One day he was just there without any particular reason. When he had appeared for the first time his long fiery hair momentarily flared up like a beacon burning through the darkness. It had been so bright it scarred him, then their eyes met and Aya could not move a muscle. The man had the most mesmerising blue eyes he had ever seen and they possessed some sort of hypnotic power. One glance and he was not able look away or think of anything else but them.

The stranger in his dreams was mostly laughing and taunting him in English, a language he hardly understood. It was not so much the words that hurt as the way he said them. On rare occasions the redhead just sat beside him hugging his knees and head resting on them. The bright blue eyes then were dark like the sky during a storm and when Aya woke up he was crying.

Before going to bed Aya had drunk four cups of black coffee, but despite that his eyes slowly closed.

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

"Can you see?"

There it was again, the voice of his midnight stalker.

Aya sat himself on the ground with a tired sigh and closed his eyes trying to think of something pleasant to banish the voice out of his system. Although he knew it was impossible as he remembered his past attempts. At least, the stranger did not taunt him. For the moment.

"Can you see?"

He opened his eyes again, around him was complete darkness.

"Can you see?" The voice asked again and Aya slowly realized the man spoke in Japanese with a slight foreign accent.

"Can you see?"

Aya decided to co-operate and looked down at his hands, then up again, frowning. "See what?" he asked not really caring if he would receive an answer.

"Will you see us for what we are? Or will you see us as you think?”

Involuntarily he looked up at the stars. "What do you mean?"

He had expected to hear the usual words pronounced with anger and annoyance instead what he heard made him jump to his feet and take a step back.

“Will you hate us?”

Something about the way the stranger said the words was not right and the way they reached him was not entirely right either. They were softly spoken, almost gentle.

The stranger appeared before him. Long strands of fire hanging over his eyes, words spoken by a mouth slightly curled into a smile and eyes burning with the question.

Aya backed away and started running as fast as his legs could carry him. He did not look back to see if his persuader followed fearing he would stop should their eyes met.

“Nowhere to hide, kitty.” The man laughed and the scenery changed into his new room above the flower shop. He was wearing the heavy trench coat used for mission and holding the unsheathed katana in his hand.

The door to his room was closed and he narrowed his eyes as his mind tried to figure out if this was still a dream. The door swung open with a crack and the man swaggered into the room grinning slyly.

“What do you want from me?” Aya demanded furiously.

The man grabbed his shoulder pulling him closer so their eyes could met. Aya did not hide his fear, he could not. What he did not expect was the hand gently brushing through his hair.

At the tender gesture something inside him flared, something he had never felt before and uncontrolled anger flooded through him. The assault of warm air was real than any produced illusion. Understanding that, he leashed out, heedless where it would hit.

Aya’s fist connected with the stranger’s hand palm and arms wound around him, holding his body firm in place.

"I’ll show you what it’s like to stand on the other side," he whispered into Aya’s ear.

The room was drowned in first rays of sunlight when he found himself back in his room face wet and his heartbeat too loud.

He fell back on the mattress, hand on his chest and took deep breaths to calm his thumbing heart. These nightmares had to stop. He could not lay awake every night in fear of closing his eyes because that redheaded devil would show up. Lack of sleep made him nap during the lunch break. Occasionally he dozed off at work and it was shear luck it did not happen on missions.

He grabbed his pants from the chair that stood next to his bed and trotted out of the room to take a bath. Hot water had always eased his mind and helped to think things over.

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

In a different part of town where politicians and successful business men were living in exclusive apartments, lofts and houses. In one of the lofts a redhead opened his eyes, turned his head up and smiled at the person sitting next to him. “It works.”

“Excellent, Schuldig.” The man smiled back waiting patiently until the redhead sat up before handing him a glass of water.