I know, I know, Where the Hell haveyou been? Busy, very busy. But I promise to finsish this thing, since I love the story so much. And I have new inspiration! Ha ha!

For the record, I own nothing of this except for its original storyline.


Aya drove home quickly after the mission was complete, and everyone in the car was tightlipped and silent. Their target lay dead in a pool of his own blood, and not a single sound had been made. No police would be alerted until someone came to check the hotel room, and the three members of Weiß hoped to be sleeping in when that happened.

Ken leapt from the car, not even waiting for the redhead to stop completely. He was so worried about Omi, especially after what had just happened. It'd almost been hard to focus on the mission, he kept thinking about what Yoji said had happened. He had hoped it was just some kind of flu, but it sounded so much worse.

He was going to take the boy to the hospital, no matter what Manx always said about public disclosure of unexplained suspicious wounds. This was too serious for them to wait for Kritiker to look into. What if the he was going to die? Ken couldn't even think about what it would be like without the blonde. He was family; Ken loved that chibi. They could fix him at the hospital…

"Omi, we're home!" He called, throwing his jacket on the hamper just inside his door and stripping off the sweater tied around his waist. Something felt wrong, making him frown anxiously. Omi's door was open, and the room was empty.

"Omi?" He stuck his head in the open bathroom, but the shower was empty. Eyes wide, he ran into the living room, where Yoji was staring down at Aya. The redhead was hidden behind the couch, kneeling and looking down at the floor. His face was obscured, but a coldness was radiating from him. Panic started to well up in the brunette's throat, dropping a rock in his gut.

"Aya, Omi's missing! He's not in his room… I can't find him anywhere…" Ken was starting to hyperventilate, his words coming out in a panicked rush. He rounded the furniture, half hoping that Omi would be on the ground. His heart sank when it wasn't, and stopped when he saw what was.

Blood on the carpet, and small swatch of gauze a few feet away. Aya stood up and nodded to Yoji, his eyes steel, so cold it seemed they burned. Yoji looked over at Ken, their eyes meeting before Aya stepped between them and went to his room, seemingly in slow motion. Ken took a step toward the older blonde, recoiling from the scarlet spots. His mind put two and two together, and he said only a single word.

"Schwarz." He spit the name out like poison, searing the air with all the hatred he could muster. Yoji nodded, and inside Ken anger flared and blazed, a forest fire igniting his heart. Tears pricked his eyes, and his hands clenched into fists. He shouted in rage, his body trembling with it.

He almost turned and went out the door right there, intent on one thing and that was to find Schwarz and kill every single one of the bastards. How dare they kidnap Omi, who was so sick? The boy never hurt anyone, and he was so weak! But an arm around his chest held him back, and he stood quivering in Yoji's arms.

"I'll kill them… I'll kill them all!" He howled, letting the man hold onto him as the red in his vision slowly faded and his anger smouldered.

"Ken. Ken listen to me! You can't run after them yourself. You'll get yourself killed. We'll get them…we'll find Omi. We'll find him." Yoji whispered fervently in Ken's ear. "We'll bring him back."

Aya had already called Kritiker, threatened that if they didn't start looking for Omi immediately he would search the city himself. Now he was angrily staring out the window, willing the night to freeze so he could find their teammate.

If anyone deserved a second chance at life it was Omi. Of all four of them those sky blue eyes were the only ones that always held onto the vibrancy of life… no dark beast would extinguish that light in Omi's eyes. Not while Aya still breathed.

His sword lay on the bed, ready to be drawn once more. Aya walked past it without looking at it, but hatred made his eyes stone.

"Manx, he's been kidnapped!"

"Abyssinian, you cannot go out tonight, not after you just completed a mission. Your safety-"

"-Omi's safety! He's hurt, damn it!"

"We'll get on it, Aya."


"We can't."

"Then I will search every building in this city for Omi."

"You do and we will be forced to terminate you. Who will take care of Aya then?"

"Leave her out of it! … If you don't have information tomorrow we're going on our own."



Streetlight flashed on the face of a blonde with pale cold skin, but the brightness didn't wake him. Schuldig grinned to himself as he reached over and stroked the boy's hair with one hand, the other on the steering wheel. Farfarello had Omi in his lap; his eye gleamed maliciously, and with awe.

"Is Bradley right?" the Irishman's voice was quiet.

"It looked like it didn't it? But only he knows." The German put a finger to his head. "He knows eeeverythiiing." The sarcasm ate holes in the air. Farfarello didn't notice, his full attention back on the boy.

"I want to hurt him… but he makes God cry. The Father made a mistake when He made you, didn't He?" Farfarello said softly, touching Omi's forehead. "He let the monsters destroy His pretty angel, and make it like them… does He cry when He sees you?"

"Farf stop that, it's creepy. It's just a Weiß kitten." Schu made a disgusted face as they pulled into the driveway. "Now hurry up, get him inside before anyone really notices." Which was an empty threat, really. Schu kept everyone who lived in this neighborhood blissfully unaware of the building four houses down from the corner.

They brought him into the living room where Crawford was already sitting, his fingers steepled as he waited for them. He rose as they entered, and motioned towards the couch in the corner with a hand. Farfarello dumped the unconscious body unceremoniously.

Nagi's head peered around the doorframe, watching with silent blank eyes. Schu caught the movement and turned on him, letting Crawford do what whatever he was doing in favor of the opportunity to tease the boy.

"Oi, Nagikins, we've brought a kitty home for you to play with. You like it?"

"Shut up, Schuldig. You'll wake him up." Crawford cut off the German and Nagi's head fled back behind the wall. The American straightened, his smile satisfied. He strode past a hungry looking Farfarello to his desk in the adjoining room. "And don't let Berserker touch him yet."

"Crawford, he's not dangerous. We picked him right up-" Schuldig began, then noticed Farfarello inching closer and smacked his hand away from the couch. Crawford grew serious, the smile fading as if it had never been.

"Oh he's dangerous, Schu. I'm calling Eszet, so be quiet." He turned his back and dialed the phone. It rang once… this was an amazing find. Takatori's work had all been destroyed in the fire, and his superiors had been very unhappy about the loss of it. Very unhappy indeed.

Twice… He brushed the files on the desk with his hand. It'd taken so long to decipher, then to track down the subject of the story written between the lines. He'd followed a hunch and now the proof was lying on his couch.

"Yes, it's Crawford. We found it."

Schuldig shook his head at the insane formality of the American. Don't go out to clubs when there's work to do, don't be so lazy, don't touch the Weiß boy… sometimes he just wanted to pull a gun to their frustrating leader's head.

Movement on the couch made him go back to the living room. The boy was stirring from his sleep, and Farfarello looked as anxious as a cat staring at a petrified mouse. Better do something about that, or their esteemed know-it-all would be angry. He put a hand on the Irishman's arm and pulled him away. It took a lot of effort.

"Come on Farfikins, time for bed. You can play with the kitty tomorrow." The golden eyed Irishman was already tensing to fight the German off, but Schuldig pressed with his mind. Make him tired… tell his body to shut down… Farfarello stumbled as Schuldig reached out to catch him.

Honestly, how could they ever control the man if Schuldig wasn't a telepath? The thought made Schuldig smirk amusedly as he half drug the psycho to his room. Panic in the streets as an Irish murderer killed whole families in a single night, leaving a broken survivor to live alone. He could see the newspapers now.

As he strapped Farfarello in for the night he made a mental note to ask Crawford about the idea. Maybe they could let the Irishman go for just a day or two, just to make things interesting. Life was so much more flavorful when chaos was rampant in the streets. A wonderful spicy sweetness to flavor their minds, it was all he could ask for.

He could still hear Bradley on the phone when he reentered the living room. Numbers, dates, and so many things Schu couldn't give a rat's ass about. He scoffed and sat backwards on a chair to watch their little captive. He brushed the boy's mind with his, and almost fell over in surprise.

"What the…?" He couldn't see anything. It was there, his mind and memories, but it was as if they were underneath a dark curtain. He could see the silhouette of those thoughts, but no definition. No detail, nothing. It tasted and smelled like metal and ashes. He could almost feel it like a taint, like oil on water when you touch it.

Then his concentration was broken as Omi shifted into slight consciousness, opening shining blue eyes that made the German gasp. Were they that blue at the boy's flower shop? He didn't think so, and now they were so bright. The boy was staring at him and through him, as if the psychic wasn't there.

Crawford had said he was sick, and the blonde was feverish when they picked him up. Suddenly Schu wondered if he was going to die on him. Oh man would Crawford be pissed then. And Eszet would be right on his tail. They wanted their captive alive, and probably wouldn't mind killing the one who killed him.

"Come on kid, pull it together." He grumbled, and got up to move next to the boy. Bombay's skin was cold, and Schu made a face as he shoved the boy over so he could sit down. He wasn't squeamish often, but this was kind of creeping him out. "Damn it, if you're contagious and I get this, you are so…"

Bombay was sitting up, his eyes locked with Schuldig's. They almost reminded him of Nagi's empty eyes, except they were so much bluer. Like the brightest summer sky… he couldn't think straight. His heartbeat beat faster in his ears and his spine sent tingles along his body as if his instincts were separate from him, and terrified.

But there was nothing to be afraid of, it was just this sick kid who couldn't even stand. Omi reached out, moving a little closer. Schu didn't move, staring into those blue, blue eyes. Something in his mind was screaming, but he couldn't hear it clearly and payed it no mind. The boy didn't say a word as he pressed close. Somehow his skin had warmed.

Unconsciously Schu put his arms around the little blonde. The boy placed his hands on the older man's chest, making his heart pound. Schuldig could hear him breathe next to his ear, could feel him tremble… Omi put his lips on the man's neck, and Schu closed his eyes. It felt so good… so beautiful…

The brief flash of precognition made Crawford's eyes widen. He dropped the phone with numb hands, sending it crashing to the desk. He flew from the room into the adjoining living room. The two were sitting there, for all the world looking like two sweet lovers.

"Schuldig get away!" He only had a moment to act, so he did the only thing he could think of, and crashed into the couch. It fell over and sent all three of them sprawling in different directions across the floor. Crawford was up first, and grabbed the gun Schuldig always carried. He quickly got over to the boy and knocked him unconscious with the weapon.

"I told you he was dangerous." He accused the German, who was shaking his head like he'd just been hit himself. Crawford dropped the gun next to the long haired man and stormed back to phone to apologize for the interruption.

Schuldig stared horrified at the boy, his breathing heavy. He felt like he'd just been saved from drowning… oh that was horrifying. That yawning emptiness that opened in his head, beckoning him to throw himself in. It made his skin crawl, that hideous sickness in that boy's mind…

"Crawford, what the hell is he?"


Anyone know yet? You should know by now what Omi is, and maybe why. We'll see.