Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ It's All Relative ❯ Chapter 26 ( Chapter 26 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.14.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 564 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.14.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 564 | Status: Work In Progress
It was a neat trick and a damned near impossible one to get four blood-caked men back inside a five star hotel, especially with two of them looking dead, and most especially because the one who could be the most help was one of the two. Crawford was literally growling deep and menacingly under his breath and seething with the urge to shoot someone else. Yohji was worried for his teammates, frazzled and wary around Crawford who was behaving much less than his cool, composed self, and craving a smoke so badly he was jittering in the dark.
They lingered in the shadows with their grisly burdens until finally some lazy employees had propped the doors of the loading dock with a wedge and wandered off to smoke. Crawford and Yohji dashed inside, and using Crawford's second by second precognition, managed to use the service elevators to get back to their suite. Crawford gently lay Aya on the chaise in their bedroom and immediately put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the suite door.
"Balinese, come here," Crawford ordered. He brought a large white tackle box with a familiar red cross on it from his largest suitcase. Inside was not only basic first aid, but the supplies to create a miniature field hospital. "Once we get them bathed they need to be hooked to some IV solutions. It's a definite that Aya is suffering badly from dehydration and Schuldig is, too, along with some blood loss. We can't do anything about that and it's a good thing neither lost much, but we can start them on the fluids."
"I, er, I've never.." Yohji, experienced assassin, blanched when Crawford held up the seemingly huge needles.
Crawford sighed. "Never mind, I'll do it. Just get Schuldig cleaned first. Take him in the shower with you and dress him in just the hotel robe."
Yohji carefully and gently stripped the telepath of his bloodied clothing and quickly undressed himself. He turned the shower on and waited for the temperature to warm while trying to finger comb some of the tangles from Schuldig's long hair. Stepping into the large enclosure, he was grateful the shower had a built in bench and the head was detachable. Handling the telepath was like washing a life size, boneless doll. More than once he nearly lost his grip on a soap slippery arm or shoulder. Schuldig hadn't eaten much during their enforced stay at the desert compound and what he did manage to eat rarely stayed down. Yohji could distinctly feel each rib and the jut of hip and collar bones. It made him wonder what kind of shape Aya was in if Schuldig looked so emaciated.
Crawford could have told him had he been able to manage words. Snarling continuously under his breath, the Oracle bathed his limp lover and examined the deep, gashed cross that Pollock had scored into Aya's chest and abdomen. It had bled copiously and would scar, but thankfully the blade had never punched deep enough to pierce the innards. Fastidious as his lover, Crawford was furious over the circumstances Aya had been forced to endure. His crimson hair was so dirty and greasy it resembled old blood and his soft breaths were tainted with the fetid, rotted smell of one close to death by dehydration. There was blood caked beneath Aya's fingernails from Pollock's throat and evidence of self-inflicted damage to his hands once Crawford managed to peel the dried, stiff gloves off.
Crawford finished the bathing and bundled Aya into a robe to attend his wounds. There was no help for it. The gashed cross would have to be stitched and apparently Yohji was no hand with a needle. Although he didn't think the man would wake, Crawford smeared some numbing ointment on the clean edges of the wound and set to work. By the time he was finished he was trembling with fatigue and his contact lenses felt welded to his eyes. He would have to take them out and replace his glasses if he wanted any hope of correctly accessing veins for the fluids.
"Yohji," Crawford raised his voice in summons. "Bring Schuldig in here and put him on the other side of Aya." At Yohji's raised eyebrow he continued. "They will need to be watched constantly and it will be easier for you if they are together."
"Where are you going?" Yohji asked.
"After I set them up on the fluids I'm going to get us some supplies, food and medical. We may be here a day or two until I can arrange for a private ambulance and plane to take us back to New York."
"Is it safe to return to New York?"
"A good question and another I will have answered before we leave. Now stop with the questions and assist me so I can get them set up."
Crawford put tourniquets on two thin pale arms and readied his supplies. Even with the dehydration he was able to find some decent veins easily enough, they were usually very healthy men, after all. Crawford made a noise of slightly amused disgust each time he sunk a needle home and Yohji had to look away.
"And you kill people for a living?" Crawford sneered.
"Piss off, Crawford. This is different, and I didn't exactly see you carrying Aya in here slung over your shoulder or dragging behind you. You're not so hard-assed as you would have me believe."
Yohji stopped himself with a gulp. Crawford's eyes had narrowed to deadly slits of golden fury and his replaced glasses flashed eerily in the bright light of the room. It was enough to remind Yohji how coolly and remorselessly Crawford could kill a target even if they were begging on their knees. It was also foolish of him to taunt Crawford over his gentleness with Aya. Even if Crawford felt some tender concern for his lover it certainly didn't mean it would extend to Yohji. Yohji backed down from his leader's alpha stance.
"Saaa, never mind. Our bickering doesn't help them. Do you need me anymore right now or can I go on the balcony for a smoke while you finish?"
Crawford gave his consent with a sharp nod. "Close the balcony doors and stay in the shadows. We're up pretty high, but anything's possible. Stay unseen until we can leave."
Yohji hurried off to his nicotine craving in hopes it would settle his nerves. He seriously doubted Crawford would let him have a drink and if he was this paranoid, Yohji's smoke breaks would be few and far between. Yohji lit up after carefully closing the door behind himself and took a deep drag. He rolled the slim stick between scarred fingertips and exhaled slowly while examining the glowing tip.
"Man, Aya, Schu, you two need to wake up in a hurry," Yohji mumbled to himself. "So we can all escape this nightmare. And it's still not over." Yohji's heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the thought of Aya's sister dead. She had been completely innocent and, Gods, what if she was really dead? What would it do to Aya? "Fuck." Yohji hissed.
He worried, too, for the sanity of his own lover who had been buried in Aya's head for days, too guilt-ridden to let Aya suffer alone. Would knowledge of his greatest tormentor's death be enough to shore up Schuldig's previous boundless confidence in his skills? Would he be able to help Aya? Although he was no telepath and he knew Schuldig had restored Aya's memory of the place, he didn't think Schu had had the time to correct any of the changes Pollock had made to Aya's memories. That much was apparent from the way Aya had almost attacked Crawford a second time before he lost consciousness.
Yohji shook his blond locks. Damn, but this mission had been costly. He smoked two more cigarettes before Crawford rapped on the glass door to bring him inside. Crawford looked more composed and even handed Yohji a cup of freshly brewed coffee, ushering him back to the bedroom where chairs had been drawn up to both sides of the large bed. Both redheads lay there, unresponsive, and looking very childlike with their narrow faces, pale skins and slender forms tucked in the voluminous hotel robes. Yohji's eyes traced over the collapsible IV poles holding the bags of fluids, down the lines to where the access cannula disappeared beneath fair skin. Both arms being used were strapped straight to a plastic, inflexible board to protect the sites.
"I'm going to get some more supplies," Crawford said, pulling on a nondescript coat over his clothes. It nicely covered the gun in a shoulder holster and allowed him easy access. "If Schuldig should wake up, try to keep him calm and soothe him as best you can. If he can't shield and can't be managed, inject one of those pink syringes of sedatives into his IV port. It will last for a couple of hours. Each time he comes around assess him again for his mental stability and strength."
"Okay," Yohji filed that away. "And Aya?"
It could have been Yohji's tired imagination but he almost thought he saw apprehension flicker over the Oracle's face before he answered.
"Use the blue syringes and inject one into his port slowly over a minute every three hours on the hour. Do you understand, Balinese?"
"Hai, you want to keep him asleep for now, but why?"
Crawford let his eyes trace the form of his lover then flick back to Yohji. Even in his exhausted and drugged sleep, Aya was frowning and looked stressed.
"Aya will not be satisfied until he has some answers. He will not rest or give himself time to recuperate before setting out to find them. I don't think he would listen rationally to any of us right now, especially me." Crawford faltered a little. "I will try to find out what I can before I wake him then help him deal with whatever answers and facts we receive."
Yohji felt a little unwanted pity for the Oracle.
"When you planned this you didn't see everything, did you? You didn't see anything about Aya's sister or the extent of the damage to Aya."
Crawford was silent and glaring for so long Yohji thought he would leave without answering.
"No," Crawford finally said in a low voice. "I did not see everything. I did not know about the sister and I did not know the measures Pollock would use against Aya to break him. I didn't know what it would do to us," Crawford finished to himself and almost too softly to hear.
Yohji wanted one more clarification.
"And if you had, would you still have proceeded as we planned.?"
"Yes, Balinese," Crawford snapped his head up and answered without hesitation. "There was no other way."
"Well then," Yohji said as he escorted Crawford to the door. He gave the impression of swearing fealty to his leader. "We continue as we should go on and take care of our own. I'll do what I can here until you return."
Crawford appraised this serious, steady version of Yohji with a twitch of his eyebrow.
"You have the number of my cell. If anyone comes to the door but me, the game is over. Kill them and try to save our team.....Yohji"
"Just hurry back, Crawford. I'm not much of a nurse."
They lingered in the shadows with their grisly burdens until finally some lazy employees had propped the doors of the loading dock with a wedge and wandered off to smoke. Crawford and Yohji dashed inside, and using Crawford's second by second precognition, managed to use the service elevators to get back to their suite. Crawford gently lay Aya on the chaise in their bedroom and immediately put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the suite door.
"Balinese, come here," Crawford ordered. He brought a large white tackle box with a familiar red cross on it from his largest suitcase. Inside was not only basic first aid, but the supplies to create a miniature field hospital. "Once we get them bathed they need to be hooked to some IV solutions. It's a definite that Aya is suffering badly from dehydration and Schuldig is, too, along with some blood loss. We can't do anything about that and it's a good thing neither lost much, but we can start them on the fluids."
"I, er, I've never.." Yohji, experienced assassin, blanched when Crawford held up the seemingly huge needles.
Crawford sighed. "Never mind, I'll do it. Just get Schuldig cleaned first. Take him in the shower with you and dress him in just the hotel robe."
Yohji carefully and gently stripped the telepath of his bloodied clothing and quickly undressed himself. He turned the shower on and waited for the temperature to warm while trying to finger comb some of the tangles from Schuldig's long hair. Stepping into the large enclosure, he was grateful the shower had a built in bench and the head was detachable. Handling the telepath was like washing a life size, boneless doll. More than once he nearly lost his grip on a soap slippery arm or shoulder. Schuldig hadn't eaten much during their enforced stay at the desert compound and what he did manage to eat rarely stayed down. Yohji could distinctly feel each rib and the jut of hip and collar bones. It made him wonder what kind of shape Aya was in if Schuldig looked so emaciated.
Crawford could have told him had he been able to manage words. Snarling continuously under his breath, the Oracle bathed his limp lover and examined the deep, gashed cross that Pollock had scored into Aya's chest and abdomen. It had bled copiously and would scar, but thankfully the blade had never punched deep enough to pierce the innards. Fastidious as his lover, Crawford was furious over the circumstances Aya had been forced to endure. His crimson hair was so dirty and greasy it resembled old blood and his soft breaths were tainted with the fetid, rotted smell of one close to death by dehydration. There was blood caked beneath Aya's fingernails from Pollock's throat and evidence of self-inflicted damage to his hands once Crawford managed to peel the dried, stiff gloves off.
Crawford finished the bathing and bundled Aya into a robe to attend his wounds. There was no help for it. The gashed cross would have to be stitched and apparently Yohji was no hand with a needle. Although he didn't think the man would wake, Crawford smeared some numbing ointment on the clean edges of the wound and set to work. By the time he was finished he was trembling with fatigue and his contact lenses felt welded to his eyes. He would have to take them out and replace his glasses if he wanted any hope of correctly accessing veins for the fluids.
"Yohji," Crawford raised his voice in summons. "Bring Schuldig in here and put him on the other side of Aya." At Yohji's raised eyebrow he continued. "They will need to be watched constantly and it will be easier for you if they are together."
"Where are you going?" Yohji asked.
"After I set them up on the fluids I'm going to get us some supplies, food and medical. We may be here a day or two until I can arrange for a private ambulance and plane to take us back to New York."
"Is it safe to return to New York?"
"A good question and another I will have answered before we leave. Now stop with the questions and assist me so I can get them set up."
Crawford put tourniquets on two thin pale arms and readied his supplies. Even with the dehydration he was able to find some decent veins easily enough, they were usually very healthy men, after all. Crawford made a noise of slightly amused disgust each time he sunk a needle home and Yohji had to look away.
"And you kill people for a living?" Crawford sneered.
"Piss off, Crawford. This is different, and I didn't exactly see you carrying Aya in here slung over your shoulder or dragging behind you. You're not so hard-assed as you would have me believe."
Yohji stopped himself with a gulp. Crawford's eyes had narrowed to deadly slits of golden fury and his replaced glasses flashed eerily in the bright light of the room. It was enough to remind Yohji how coolly and remorselessly Crawford could kill a target even if they were begging on their knees. It was also foolish of him to taunt Crawford over his gentleness with Aya. Even if Crawford felt some tender concern for his lover it certainly didn't mean it would extend to Yohji. Yohji backed down from his leader's alpha stance.
"Saaa, never mind. Our bickering doesn't help them. Do you need me anymore right now or can I go on the balcony for a smoke while you finish?"
Crawford gave his consent with a sharp nod. "Close the balcony doors and stay in the shadows. We're up pretty high, but anything's possible. Stay unseen until we can leave."
Yohji hurried off to his nicotine craving in hopes it would settle his nerves. He seriously doubted Crawford would let him have a drink and if he was this paranoid, Yohji's smoke breaks would be few and far between. Yohji lit up after carefully closing the door behind himself and took a deep drag. He rolled the slim stick between scarred fingertips and exhaled slowly while examining the glowing tip.
"Man, Aya, Schu, you two need to wake up in a hurry," Yohji mumbled to himself. "So we can all escape this nightmare. And it's still not over." Yohji's heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the thought of Aya's sister dead. She had been completely innocent and, Gods, what if she was really dead? What would it do to Aya? "Fuck." Yohji hissed.
He worried, too, for the sanity of his own lover who had been buried in Aya's head for days, too guilt-ridden to let Aya suffer alone. Would knowledge of his greatest tormentor's death be enough to shore up Schuldig's previous boundless confidence in his skills? Would he be able to help Aya? Although he was no telepath and he knew Schuldig had restored Aya's memory of the place, he didn't think Schu had had the time to correct any of the changes Pollock had made to Aya's memories. That much was apparent from the way Aya had almost attacked Crawford a second time before he lost consciousness.
Yohji shook his blond locks. Damn, but this mission had been costly. He smoked two more cigarettes before Crawford rapped on the glass door to bring him inside. Crawford looked more composed and even handed Yohji a cup of freshly brewed coffee, ushering him back to the bedroom where chairs had been drawn up to both sides of the large bed. Both redheads lay there, unresponsive, and looking very childlike with their narrow faces, pale skins and slender forms tucked in the voluminous hotel robes. Yohji's eyes traced over the collapsible IV poles holding the bags of fluids, down the lines to where the access cannula disappeared beneath fair skin. Both arms being used were strapped straight to a plastic, inflexible board to protect the sites.
"I'm going to get some more supplies," Crawford said, pulling on a nondescript coat over his clothes. It nicely covered the gun in a shoulder holster and allowed him easy access. "If Schuldig should wake up, try to keep him calm and soothe him as best you can. If he can't shield and can't be managed, inject one of those pink syringes of sedatives into his IV port. It will last for a couple of hours. Each time he comes around assess him again for his mental stability and strength."
"Okay," Yohji filed that away. "And Aya?"
It could have been Yohji's tired imagination but he almost thought he saw apprehension flicker over the Oracle's face before he answered.
"Use the blue syringes and inject one into his port slowly over a minute every three hours on the hour. Do you understand, Balinese?"
"Hai, you want to keep him asleep for now, but why?"
Crawford let his eyes trace the form of his lover then flick back to Yohji. Even in his exhausted and drugged sleep, Aya was frowning and looked stressed.
"Aya will not be satisfied until he has some answers. He will not rest or give himself time to recuperate before setting out to find them. I don't think he would listen rationally to any of us right now, especially me." Crawford faltered a little. "I will try to find out what I can before I wake him then help him deal with whatever answers and facts we receive."
Yohji felt a little unwanted pity for the Oracle.
"When you planned this you didn't see everything, did you? You didn't see anything about Aya's sister or the extent of the damage to Aya."
Crawford was silent and glaring for so long Yohji thought he would leave without answering.
"No," Crawford finally said in a low voice. "I did not see everything. I did not know about the sister and I did not know the measures Pollock would use against Aya to break him. I didn't know what it would do to us," Crawford finished to himself and almost too softly to hear.
Yohji wanted one more clarification.
"And if you had, would you still have proceeded as we planned.?"
"Yes, Balinese," Crawford snapped his head up and answered without hesitation. "There was no other way."
"Well then," Yohji said as he escorted Crawford to the door. He gave the impression of swearing fealty to his leader. "We continue as we should go on and take care of our own. I'll do what I can here until you return."
Crawford appraised this serious, steady version of Yohji with a twitch of his eyebrow.
"You have the number of my cell. If anyone comes to the door but me, the game is over. Kill them and try to save our team.....Yohji"
"Just hurry back, Crawford. I'm not much of a nurse."