Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ It's All Relative ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
Usual disclaimers: Don't own, don't profit. Aya may seem OOC, but his head is messed up. Crawford and Schuldig...well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 06.24.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 780 | Status: Work In Progress
Usual disclaimers: Don't own, don't profit. Aya may seem OOC, but his head is messed up. Crawford and Schuldig...well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 06.24.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 780 | Status: Work In Progress
Aya was warm, warmer than he had been in longer than he could remember. He became aware of another, more unfamiliar feeling, one that had been missing in his life since before his parents died. His dazed and exhausted mind fumbled until it came up with the word...safe. That was it. Aya felt safe, and in his relief, he relaxed enough to notice the lessening of a strangling tension in his body. That is until he remembered where he was.
Aya's cheek was pressed into a warm...someone, and his left hand was fisted in a linen shirt. He started to jerk backwards in shock when an arm curved around his back and held him still.
"You're all right. Don't jump or you'll just tear the stitches again." Crawford's deep voice washed over him and tamped down the panic.
The panic may have settled, but embarrassment was encroaching fast on its heels. If anyone he knew could see Aya now, they would probably stare in open mouthed shock at seeing him snuggled cozily with a member of Schwarz before shooting him as a traitor. The thought was enough to have him pulling away, albeit more carefully, from Crawford. Aya thanked whatever Gods were listening that the older man let him go easily.
"What? What's going on here?" Aya silently damned himself that the question came out shaky and uncertain rather than the harsh demand he meant it to be.
"You took a turn for the worse. I stayed to make sure you would be okay during the night." Crawford answered with a small smile. Gauging the redhead's acute embarrassment he chose to leave out that Aya had refused to let him go. "Do you feel strong enough to make it to the bathroom on your own?"
Weighing his pride against his current weakness, Aya had to grudgingly shake his head and admit he couldn't make it alone.
"If you could just..." He trailed off, unable to complete the request for help.
Crawford didn't force him to finish. He helped Aya to the edge of the bed and braced the injured side to help him to stand. Aya clutched his arm tightly until the wave of dizziness passed and his legs chose to accept his weight. Slow steps took them across the room into the adjoining bathroom where a plastic chair stood in the middle of a walk in shower.
Crawford unwound the bandages and examined the wound before sealing it over with a clear, waterproof dressing. He placed toiletries within reach on a low shelf and fresh towels on table. An obviously new robe was taken from a bag and added to the table. Aya watched all this mutely and only nodded his thanks when Crawford handed him the shower hose.
"I trust you can handle the rest on your own?" No sarcasm, although Aya almost expected it, just quiet concern.
"I can do it. You...you've done enough."
"It's another advantage to being part of a team, Aya, having someone to back you up when needed." Crawford chose his next words with deliberate care. "I make sure my team is cared for. No one is left to struggle alone."
The quiet words struck a chord in Aya's lonely soul. It had been too long since someone had cared about his welfare. Even then he hadn't let anyone get too close. He might have been part of Weiss but he had never let any of them help him except in dire need. He sure as hell had never woke up in bed cuddled with a teammate. His cheeks burned momentarily at the memory. Not even to himself, yet, could Aya admit that it had been pleasant to have someone beside him, especially the coolly aloof Oracle. He gave a watered down version of his usual glare to the man observing him.
"I haven't said I would join you."
Crawford inclined his head in acknowledgement. "But you are thinking about it, aren't you?"
"I'm thinking. Now, get out, and let me have some privacy."
Crawford left Aya to his ablutions, totally unconcerned over the redhead's rude dismissal. He decided to clean up as well and air the empty room that used to be Nagi's. He knew, without a doubt, that it would be in use soon.
Aya used the shower and shampooed his hair as well, glad for the opportunity. His fastidious nature didn't allow any slacking in that department. Occasionally he paused in his washing in puzzlement. What he previously thought he knew of Schwarz and what he was seeing now kept circling his mind. Crawford wasn't behaving in any manner other than solicitous and even Schuldig had refrained from manipulating his thoughts. Or had he? Aya wasn't sure, but he didn't think so.
Aya levered himself back to his feet with a grip on the vanity and pulled the robe around himself. He used one hand to towel his hair before dropping it to stare at his reflection in the mirror. Haunted, needy purple eyes looked back. Aya thought about the fleeting contentment he had felt lying against Crawford's comforting solidness before he fully awoke. He touched the stab wound. He would need help if he wanted to find out who was behind the attack and admitted to himself that going it alone was more unpalatable than ever. Something unknown stirred in his chest and he rubbed his knuckles over the area and sneered at his reflection. He was so damn tired of being alone, dead to the rest of the world. At least Crawford and Schuldig knew who and what he was. There was some history between them, most of it unpleasant, but still there. They had fought a common enemy at the academy. What was the saying? The enemy of my enemy is my...friend?
Aya trailed his fingers through the mist on the mirror.
"Fujimiya, you are so screwed up."
Aya knew what answer he would give Crawford when the man returned.
Perhaps the Oracle had a vision or maybe he could read into a man's soul. In any case, when Crawford returned he had Schuldig in tow, the telepath looking decidedly disgruntled about leaving his bed so early. Aya belted the robe around his thin frame and accepted a little less reluctantly the arm offered to him in assistance. Schuldig sidled to his other side and bared his straight, white teeth in a winning smile. It made him look less arrogant, almost charming. From behind his back the telepath produced Aya's very own katana, no doubt swiped from his apartment while he was unconscious.
Aya narrowed his eyes at the presumption and reached for the weapon. He turned to Crawford and answered the man's unspoken question with a nod, although he was sure Crawford already knew. He would swear honey brown eyes sparked warmly at him before Crawford's face smoothed into business like blandness.
"Welcome to Schwarz, Aya. We'll have your things moved from your old apartment to one of the other rooms today."
"Or you could always share with me, Abby Cat." Schuldig's smile had morphed into his usual smirk.
Aya resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why had he ever thought the telepath's smile was charming? The man was a menace, assassin or not. Aya held his katana tighter and let his voice chill with his old disdain.
"I want one thing straight from the start. I am not Abby Cat, kitty, kitten, katzchen, or any other silly name. I'll never answer to them. I am Aya or Abyssinian."
"Of Schwarz." Crawford clarified and held out his right hand.
Aya clasped the warm palm and felt destiny swirl around him.
"Of Schwarz." He agreed.
********************************************************** *******************************************
The actual moving of Aya's belongings was accomplished so quickly and efficiently that he strongly suspected his apartment had been boxed up the same day Crawford had picked him up off the street. Aya didn't know whether to be amused or irritated at the highhandness. On one hand it irked him to be predicted, on the other it was somewhat a relief to have someone willing to handle the onerous chore.
The bed Aya had purchased upon arriving in New York was made up and ready in the bedroom between Crawford's and Schuldig's. Each bedroom in the large house had its own adjoining bathroom so sharing wasn't necessary. Still keeping a careful arm around his side Aya moved slowly and arranged his meager belongings to his satisfaction. His ascetic lifestyle meant there wasn't much to occupy his time. For too many years Aya's whole life had revolved around a seemingly normal day job with missions of death at night to invalidate the normalcy. He had trained, worked, studied mission plans and slept. Nothing else. Injuries severe enough to incapacitate him had been few and far between. Empty time had been nonexistent.
Bluntly, Aya now had time on his hands and no idea how to fill it. He didn't want to sit alone in his room and was reluctant to seek out his new teammates. The longer he sat by himself the more he questioned his decision. It wasn't like Aya to make decisions based on emotions rather than cold logic, but then he had to admit his logic had been faulty recently. If his head had been clear he wouldn't have been stabbed in the first place. The thoughts whirled in a vicious circle with no clearly defined answer.
"Aya?" Crawford's voice came from the open doorway and jerked him from his reverie. "Come into my office with us. I have the fireplace going. New York winters can be harsh."
The words were more invitation than anything else. Aya shrugged to himself and followed Crawford, drawn more by the hint of companionship than the promised warmth of the fire.
Aya's cheek was pressed into a warm...someone, and his left hand was fisted in a linen shirt. He started to jerk backwards in shock when an arm curved around his back and held him still.
"You're all right. Don't jump or you'll just tear the stitches again." Crawford's deep voice washed over him and tamped down the panic.
The panic may have settled, but embarrassment was encroaching fast on its heels. If anyone he knew could see Aya now, they would probably stare in open mouthed shock at seeing him snuggled cozily with a member of Schwarz before shooting him as a traitor. The thought was enough to have him pulling away, albeit more carefully, from Crawford. Aya thanked whatever Gods were listening that the older man let him go easily.
"What? What's going on here?" Aya silently damned himself that the question came out shaky and uncertain rather than the harsh demand he meant it to be.
"You took a turn for the worse. I stayed to make sure you would be okay during the night." Crawford answered with a small smile. Gauging the redhead's acute embarrassment he chose to leave out that Aya had refused to let him go. "Do you feel strong enough to make it to the bathroom on your own?"
Weighing his pride against his current weakness, Aya had to grudgingly shake his head and admit he couldn't make it alone.
"If you could just..." He trailed off, unable to complete the request for help.
Crawford didn't force him to finish. He helped Aya to the edge of the bed and braced the injured side to help him to stand. Aya clutched his arm tightly until the wave of dizziness passed and his legs chose to accept his weight. Slow steps took them across the room into the adjoining bathroom where a plastic chair stood in the middle of a walk in shower.
Crawford unwound the bandages and examined the wound before sealing it over with a clear, waterproof dressing. He placed toiletries within reach on a low shelf and fresh towels on table. An obviously new robe was taken from a bag and added to the table. Aya watched all this mutely and only nodded his thanks when Crawford handed him the shower hose.
"I trust you can handle the rest on your own?" No sarcasm, although Aya almost expected it, just quiet concern.
"I can do it. You...you've done enough."
"It's another advantage to being part of a team, Aya, having someone to back you up when needed." Crawford chose his next words with deliberate care. "I make sure my team is cared for. No one is left to struggle alone."
The quiet words struck a chord in Aya's lonely soul. It had been too long since someone had cared about his welfare. Even then he hadn't let anyone get too close. He might have been part of Weiss but he had never let any of them help him except in dire need. He sure as hell had never woke up in bed cuddled with a teammate. His cheeks burned momentarily at the memory. Not even to himself, yet, could Aya admit that it had been pleasant to have someone beside him, especially the coolly aloof Oracle. He gave a watered down version of his usual glare to the man observing him.
"I haven't said I would join you."
Crawford inclined his head in acknowledgement. "But you are thinking about it, aren't you?"
"I'm thinking. Now, get out, and let me have some privacy."
Crawford left Aya to his ablutions, totally unconcerned over the redhead's rude dismissal. He decided to clean up as well and air the empty room that used to be Nagi's. He knew, without a doubt, that it would be in use soon.
Aya used the shower and shampooed his hair as well, glad for the opportunity. His fastidious nature didn't allow any slacking in that department. Occasionally he paused in his washing in puzzlement. What he previously thought he knew of Schwarz and what he was seeing now kept circling his mind. Crawford wasn't behaving in any manner other than solicitous and even Schuldig had refrained from manipulating his thoughts. Or had he? Aya wasn't sure, but he didn't think so.
Aya levered himself back to his feet with a grip on the vanity and pulled the robe around himself. He used one hand to towel his hair before dropping it to stare at his reflection in the mirror. Haunted, needy purple eyes looked back. Aya thought about the fleeting contentment he had felt lying against Crawford's comforting solidness before he fully awoke. He touched the stab wound. He would need help if he wanted to find out who was behind the attack and admitted to himself that going it alone was more unpalatable than ever. Something unknown stirred in his chest and he rubbed his knuckles over the area and sneered at his reflection. He was so damn tired of being alone, dead to the rest of the world. At least Crawford and Schuldig knew who and what he was. There was some history between them, most of it unpleasant, but still there. They had fought a common enemy at the academy. What was the saying? The enemy of my enemy is my...friend?
Aya trailed his fingers through the mist on the mirror.
"Fujimiya, you are so screwed up."
Aya knew what answer he would give Crawford when the man returned.
Perhaps the Oracle had a vision or maybe he could read into a man's soul. In any case, when Crawford returned he had Schuldig in tow, the telepath looking decidedly disgruntled about leaving his bed so early. Aya belted the robe around his thin frame and accepted a little less reluctantly the arm offered to him in assistance. Schuldig sidled to his other side and bared his straight, white teeth in a winning smile. It made him look less arrogant, almost charming. From behind his back the telepath produced Aya's very own katana, no doubt swiped from his apartment while he was unconscious.
Aya narrowed his eyes at the presumption and reached for the weapon. He turned to Crawford and answered the man's unspoken question with a nod, although he was sure Crawford already knew. He would swear honey brown eyes sparked warmly at him before Crawford's face smoothed into business like blandness.
"Welcome to Schwarz, Aya. We'll have your things moved from your old apartment to one of the other rooms today."
"Or you could always share with me, Abby Cat." Schuldig's smile had morphed into his usual smirk.
Aya resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why had he ever thought the telepath's smile was charming? The man was a menace, assassin or not. Aya held his katana tighter and let his voice chill with his old disdain.
"I want one thing straight from the start. I am not Abby Cat, kitty, kitten, katzchen, or any other silly name. I'll never answer to them. I am Aya or Abyssinian."
"Of Schwarz." Crawford clarified and held out his right hand.
Aya clasped the warm palm and felt destiny swirl around him.
"Of Schwarz." He agreed.
********************************************************** *******************************************
The actual moving of Aya's belongings was accomplished so quickly and efficiently that he strongly suspected his apartment had been boxed up the same day Crawford had picked him up off the street. Aya didn't know whether to be amused or irritated at the highhandness. On one hand it irked him to be predicted, on the other it was somewhat a relief to have someone willing to handle the onerous chore.
The bed Aya had purchased upon arriving in New York was made up and ready in the bedroom between Crawford's and Schuldig's. Each bedroom in the large house had its own adjoining bathroom so sharing wasn't necessary. Still keeping a careful arm around his side Aya moved slowly and arranged his meager belongings to his satisfaction. His ascetic lifestyle meant there wasn't much to occupy his time. For too many years Aya's whole life had revolved around a seemingly normal day job with missions of death at night to invalidate the normalcy. He had trained, worked, studied mission plans and slept. Nothing else. Injuries severe enough to incapacitate him had been few and far between. Empty time had been nonexistent.
Bluntly, Aya now had time on his hands and no idea how to fill it. He didn't want to sit alone in his room and was reluctant to seek out his new teammates. The longer he sat by himself the more he questioned his decision. It wasn't like Aya to make decisions based on emotions rather than cold logic, but then he had to admit his logic had been faulty recently. If his head had been clear he wouldn't have been stabbed in the first place. The thoughts whirled in a vicious circle with no clearly defined answer.
"Aya?" Crawford's voice came from the open doorway and jerked him from his reverie. "Come into my office with us. I have the fireplace going. New York winters can be harsh."
The words were more invitation than anything else. Aya shrugged to himself and followed Crawford, drawn more by the hint of companionship than the promised warmth of the fire.