Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3256625.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Weiß_Kreuz
  Relationship:
      Naoe_Nagi/Tsukiyono_Omi, Hidaka_Ken/Tsukiyono_Omi
  Character:
      Tsukiyono_Omi_|_Takatori_Mamoru, Naoe_Nagi, Hidaka_Ken, Kudou_Yohji,
      Fujimiya_Aya_(Ran), Schuldig_(Weiß_Kreuz), Brad_Crawford, Farfarello_
      (Weiß_Kreuz)
  Stats:
      Published: 2001-01-01 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 39226
****** Judgement ******
by Miko_no_da_(Miko)
Summary
     An angel and a demon have been given one last chance to redeem
     themselves
     (Posting OLD fics off my defunct website)
***** Chapter 1 *****
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Catch me now, I'm your fallen angel,
You taught me why angel's fall!
Watch me fly, your fallen angel,
I can break through your wall!
Oh love's a test for the heavens
Turns an angel's dreams around...
'Fallen Angel' - Debbie Gibson
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They clung together, scaled black and feathered white wings entangled around
them. The incubus laid his head gently on the seraph's shoulder, as the angel
stroked his hair soothingly. Both trembled as they awaited the moment of their
judgement.
Michael, highest of all the Archangels, regarded them with a serious gaze.
Beside him he could feel Gabriel practically vibrating with rage as he waited
for the order to carry out the transgressors' punishment. He could understand
his friend's fury - this particular seraph was high among the Nameless Hosts,
perhaps only a few centuries from earning a Name and Title of his own. His
betrayal was a harsh blow to Heaven's forces.
"You have broken one of Heaven's most immutable laws, seraph," he intoned
grimly. His face was stern, but with his eyes he begged the young angel before
him to reconsider his rash actions. "God is almighty, but He is also all
merciful. You have one last chance; repent your actions, bow down before God
and beg His forgiveness, and you shall be redeemed. What say you, seraph?"
The little demon clung to his angel lover fearfully, and Michael's heart sank
as he saw the conviction in the seraph's eyes. "I will not cast him off," the
angel replied, voice firm and unwavering. "All the Hosts know that love is a
gift from God, to be treasured and valued above all else. How, then, should I
repent of that which God Himself has bestowed upon me?"
Michael tried one last time to save the soul of the angel before him. "Seraph,
what you say is true. But all the Hosts also know that no demon is capable of
love. There is nothing the Prince of Lies would love to see more than one of
God's favoured angels fall. He has deceived you; repent and be shriven of your
sins!"
"This love is from God," the angel replied evenly, eyes flashing in anger. "If
He is so unjust as to punish us for our actions, then He is a God I do not wish
to serve."
There were many shocked gasps from the watching Hosts at that blasphemy, and
Michael shook his head sadly. "So be it, then. You have sinned and you will not
repent; hear then the judgement of God."
Every angel in the room held their breath, waiting for the sound of that most
feared and most beloved Voice. There was no doubt as to what the punishment
would be; the seraph would be cast out, to live as a Fallen angel among the
demon Hordes.
*FROM HEAVEN THOU ART BANISHED,* the booming voice rang out at last. The little
demon shrieked and clasped his hands over his ears, unable to hear the Holy
Voice without pain. He buried his too-perfect face in his lover's shoulder and
whimpered as the Voice continued. *TO THE MORTAL WORLD I SEND THEE, THERE TO
BIDE FOR SEVEN YEARS. THOU SHALT INHABIT THE BODIES OF TWO MORTALS WHOSE SOULS
HATH FLED BEFORE THEIR TIME, WITH NO MEMORIES OF THY ETERNAL EXISTENCE. IN THAT
TIME THOU SHALT SUFFER HARDSHIPS OF MANY KINDS. IF THOU CANST DISCOVER ONE
ANOTHER AGAIN AND PROVE THY LOVE IS TRUE, HEAVEN SHALL BE OPEN TO THEE ONCE
MORE. IF IN SEVEN YEARS TIME THOU HAST NOT PROVEN THYSELVES THUSLY, THOU SHALT
BE CAST OUT TO LIVE AMONG THE FALLEN AND THE DEMONS. THIS IS MY JUDGEMENT.*
There was a collective gasp of shock as the Holy Presence faded, and the
murmurs and whispers began immediately. Unheard of! Was this an admission that
it WAS possible for a demon to love? Didn't the Almighty KNOW if their love was
true? Surely He hadn't meant to imply that an incubus would be allowed into
Heaven if they should prove themselves...
"Enough!" Michael finally snapped, recovering from his own shock. He could see
confusion and burgeoning hope in the faces of the two condemned before him, and
gave them a moment to collect themselves before continuing in a more gentle
voice. "The Almighty has spoken; His will shall be done. Gabriel will escort
your souls to their new places, and ensure the erasure of your memories. May
God be with you in your trials."
The little demon flinched as Michael blessed them both, the words physically
painful to one who lived so far from God's grace. The seraph held him tightly,
staring intently into his lover's eyes. "I WILL find you," he proclaimed
fiercely. "No matter what. Believe in me."
"Always," the incubus replied, melodic voice rife with intensity. Michael
allowed them another minute together before gesturing for Gabriel and his
guards to separate them. As they reluctantly let go of each other and turned to
face their captors, Michael found himself silently wishing them luck. God alone
knew they were going to need it.
 
===============================================================================
"Omi. Omi! Hey, earth to Omi..."
Omi blinked at the hand being waved in front of his face, and looked up to see
Ken standing over him. "Huh? I'm sorry, Ken-kun, I wasn't paying attention."
"I'll say," Ken replied, leaning one hip against the table. "You okay? You've
been awfully distracted today."
"I just... didn't sleep well," Omi answered, raking a hand through his hair and
yawning. "I've been having weird dreams lately." A world made of nothing but
white feathers...
Ken regarded him seriously. "More memories coming back?"
"N-no..." Omi replied hesitantly. "I don't really remember anything about the
dreams," flying through an endless eternity, "but they certainly weren't
nightmares." He yawned again, covering it with a hasty hand.
"Saa! Sounds like our little Omittchi is finally growing up!" Youji exclaimed,
and winked at him. Omi blushed as he realized what the older man was implying.
"Youji-kun! They weren't THOSE kind of dreams!" all of space and time laid out
before them, "Just... strange..." He trailed off and stared down at his hands
in his lap, trying again to remember. Every night for the last week he'd spent
the night tossing and turning, waking more tired than when he'd gone to bed,
all because of this nagging, persistent dream.
If only he could remember more than the half-seen glimpses of feathers and the
sensation of flying through the Heavens! Each morning he awoke with a new sense
of urgency, a feeling of something missing, something incredibly important that
he had to find...
The sound of someone snapping their fingers in front of his face brought him
abruptly back to reality. "Oh!" he exclaimed, jumping a little in his seat at
the sudden intrusion. "What..."
"You drifted off again," Ken told him, eyeing him worriedly. "You were totally
zoned, Omi! I called you like three times."
"You sure you're up to this, bishounen?" Youji asked him in concern, gesturing
at the blueprints spread out on the table before them. Their target for that
night was a chemical laboratory that had been involved in the production of a
new, highly addictive synthetic opiate. The drug had hit the streets three
weeks previously, and had already been the cause or suspected cause of at least
a dozen deaths. Their mission was to destroy the lab and all records, after
getting a copy of the chemical formula for Kritiker to examine.
"I'll be fine," he reassured them. "I'm just a little tired. Once we get out
there the adrenalin will wake me up. Besides, if the rumours are true and
Schwartz really is involved, you're going to need me there with you."
The others returned to making plans, and though he tried his best to
concentrate he found his mind drifting off again. In the two months since
Esstet had fallen Schwartz and Weiss had crossed paths perhaps a dozen times,
and each battle was more vicious than the last. The only thing that had kept
the Weiss assassins alive this long was the fact that the psychics' powers had
apparently become unstable in the backlash of the failed summoning.
That meant that for the first time, Omi had the upper hand in his battles with
Nagi. The telekinetic was obviously unused to actually using physical force
against an enemy, and for once Omi was able to deal him some damage.
It was strange, though - lately he'd found himself looking forward to their
fights, anticipating the moment when he would see the wiry telekinetic again.
He felt drawn to him the way a moth was drawn to a flame, entranced by the
beauty despite knowing the danger.
Beauty? he thought to himself, startled by the track his mind was taking. Where
did that come from? I suppose he is very pretty, in an androgynous way. He
considered his mental image of the youngest Schwartz member. Nagi was indeed
beautiful, his delicate features belying the strength of his mind. Omi found
himself regretting the cuts and abrasions his attacks had caused to mar that
perfect skin.
Ah, mou! First weird dreams that keep me up all night, and now I'm sitting here
thinking about how attractive my enemy is. I think I need a vacation!
In fact, now that it had occurred to him, the idea was more appealing with
every passing moment. They'd been working very hard lately, trying to make up
for the slack caused by the loss of agents to Esstet's manipulations. He
wondered if the others would be receptive to the idea of going up to Villa
White this weekend if they didn't have another mission.
His wandering thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the
stairs. Aya appeared, dressed in his trench coat and carrying his katana. He
had been out doing recon, establishing the patterns of the guards and locations
of security cameras. "Everything checks out," he said in his gruff voice.
"Shift change is in one hour - the guards going off duty won't be as alert.
That's our best chance to get in."
Omi nodded, rapidly assimilating that information into the tentative plan he
already had formed in his head. "Good. Ken-kun, you're the best after me at
setting explosives, so you take care of the lab. Youji-kun, you cover Ken-kun.
I'll hack the computers for the formula and process, and start the virus to
wipe the system. Aya-kun, you cover me and keep an eye on our escape route.
Everyone keep their eyes peeled for any sign of Schwartz."
Even after more than two years it still felt a little strange to be giving
orders to people older than him, but they had grown used to following his
plans. Of them all Omi had the most training and the most experience in their
line of work, and he had been the first member of Weiss. He was the one
responsible for holding back in the fights, staying clear of the battles and
providing overall tactical advice for the team. Just as well - while he was a
crack shot with compound or crossbow and a computers and explosives expert,
hand-to-hand fighting was not his forte.
"Everyone have their receivers?" he asked, hooking his own set-up over his ear.
The others followed suit. "Good. I've already set the frequencies on bands one
and two - stay on band one unless you hear otherwise, or unless you start
picking up something that's not us. If that happens, switch to band two. We
shouldn't need to worry about it too much, though." He took one last look at
the blueprints, checked his darts and the crossbow bolts in his thigh sheath,
and slung his laptop case strap over his shoulder. Picking up his crossbow and
gesturing to the stairs, he smiled grimly. "Let's go."
 
===============================================================================
Omi tapped at the keyboard of his laptop, frowning at the display. "Where the
hell did they get this kind of security?" he whispered to himself, booting
another code-cracking program. It was the third one he'd tried, and his most
sophisticated - if this one didn't get him into the system, he wasn't sure what
he'd do. Not only could he not get a copy of the formula, it would be a lot
harder to wipe the drives without access.
He shifted from foot to foot impatiently as the program ran its course. He
tried not to use this alternative program, because it could take so long to
run. Luckily they hadn't encountered much resistance on this mission, and it
looked like he would have the time he needed.
Just as he was starting to worry that it wouldn't work after all, the computer
beeped triumphantly at him. With a relieved sigh, he set to work searching out
and downloading the proper files. "Here's the formula," he murmured to himself
as he worked, taking a moment to memorize the chemical structure in case
something happened to the data. "And here's the process. Now I just have to
wipe the system and..."
The compact little computer trembled under his hand, then exploded without
further warning. He shrieked and jumped back, bringing his hands up to shield
his face from the shrapnel. "What the..."
His question was answered as he was picked up and thrown forcefully against the
wall. All the air was expelled from his lungs with a whoosh, and he gasped
frantically to try to get it back. Damn it, he hated having the wind knocked
out of him! It also meant he couldn't call for help to the others.
Just as he was starting to get a few wheezing breaths back, he felt his
earpiece being lifted away from his head and flung to the side. He fumed and
struggled against the force pinning him high on the wall, and it abruptly let
go.
Typically, he didn't manage to get his feet under him in time, and landed on
his ass. Unfortunately he also took some of his weight on his right arm at a
bad angle, and lancing needles of pain shot through his wrist. Sitting up, he
gingerly tried to flex his hand and nearly screamed as it protested the
movement. So much for his throwing arm.
Nagi stood at the other end of the hallway, a little breeze ruffling his hair
and the edges of his clothing. "Why the hell," Omi asked him in irritation,
struggling to his feet, "does the wind come up whenever you use your powers?"
Nagi blinked at him, and actually smiled a little in bemusement. "I don't
know," he answered in his soft voice. "It just does. Why?"
"It's just always bothered me," Omi told him as he leaned against the wall,
cradling his injured wrist to his chest. "And did you have to blow up the damn
laptop? That thing was custom made!" He wasn't sure why he had this urge to
talk to his opponent, unless it was to distract him long enough to make a break
for it. He edged backwards along the wall as Nagi walked forwards.
"If Abyssinian could afford his sister's hospital bills AND a new Porsche, you
can afford to replace the computer," Nagi replied reasonably. "You certainly
don't spend the money you're getting on anything else."
Omi rolled his eyes. "What, are you tracking my bank accounts now?"
Nagi shrugged. "Crawford asked me to. He likes to know absolutely everything he
can about his enemies." He reached out as if grasping at something, and Omi was
picked up like a rag doll. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what was coming
next. Sure enough the next thing he felt was the impact of his shoulder on the
wall, and he suppressed a grunt of pain. He wasn't about to give the Schwartz
brat the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt.
Nagi drew him back for another toss, then cried out and Omi fell to the floor.
He managed to take the shock properly this time, avoiding further injury, and
glanced over to where the psychic stood. The younger teen had his hand on his
head and was leaning against the wall as if he was dizzy. This was the sign Omi
had been waiting for - Nagi had temporarily lost control of his powers again.
Omi charged forward, determinedly ignoring the pain of his sprained wrist. He
didn't have the agility for anything fancy, and he didn't know how long he
would have until Nagi recovered, so he settled for an old-fashioned tackle. He
caught Nagi around the waist and they both went down; he heard the satisfying
smack of flesh on concrete when Nagi's leading shoulder met the floor, and the
telekinetic shrieked in pain.
"You..." Nagi hissed at him furiously, squirming beneath Omi's body. Omi
shifted until he had him securely pinned, and lay panting for a moment. Nagi
glared impotently at him, and he glared back.
"Why do I always get stuck fighting you anyway?" he asked the other boy
rhetorically. Nagi narrowed his eyes and didn't answer. Omi searched for a way
to knock the other assassin out, but he couldn't use his right hand and his
left was occupied holding the boy's wrists.
Abruptly Nagi surged upwards, kicking his feet to try to knock Omi off him. Omi
fought back and they wound up pressed tightly together, legs tangled as they
both tried to either do some damage or get away. Omi could feel the other boy's
warmth through the thin cotton of his clothes as they struggled, and he was
horrified to find that he was becoming somewhat aroused. What was wrong with
him? This was not the time, the place, or the person!
Nagi whipped his head around to try to bite at him and their faces collided. It
was very nearly an involuntary kiss... their lips brushed along each other's
jaws and they both gasped at the contact. Omi felt as if he'd grabbed hold of a
live wire, shocks of electricity racing through his veins. It was, he realized
vaguely through the haze, the first time that he'd ever touched Nagi skin to
skin...
Wings twined around them in a protective cocoon They drew back and stared at
each other, struggles forgotten soaking up the warmth of the body just a breath
away from his dazed gazes meeting as they tried to sort out what was happening
to them the thrill of knowing they were acting on dangerous impulse leaning
forward hesitantly, as if in a dream, until their lips brushed together
forbidden touch from a forbidden lover and that strange energy crackled between
them again, locking them helplessly in place never leave me promise you'll
never leave meuntil the sound of gunshots down the corridor sent them jerking
away from each other frantically. "Believe in me!"
Omi sat panting on the floor, dizzy and lightheaded from the shock he'd gotten.
He lifted one hand to his lips, unable to believe he'd just kissed a member of
Schwartz, and saw Nagi doing the same just a few feet away. They stared at each
other wordlessly, and Omi felt that same strange tugging that had led him to do
it in the first place.
Another gunshot had him scrambling to his feet, and he could see Aya running
down the hallway towards them, followed closely by a laughing Schuldich. The
telepath was playing with the swordsman; they all knew he could easily outrun
Aya, without even breaking a sweat. His shots were also going deliberately
wide, only occasionally taking a small bite out of a non-vital area of the
White Hunter's limbs.
"Abyssinian!" he cried out, seeing the blood on his teammate's body. "Are you
okay?"
Aya grunted as he stumbled to a halt next to him, a sound that could have been
either an affirmative or a negative. "Did you get the data?"
"I memorized the formula, but my laptop is in pieces," Omi replied under his
breath, gesturing at the wreckage of the laptop scattered around them. "My
wrist is twisted too - I can't use my weapons." Behind Aya he could see that
Schuldich had stopped next to where Nagi was still sitting, and the German
actually had a faintly concerned look on his face as he crouched over his
stunned teammate.
"The mission is blown, we'll come back another day," Aya decided, and Omi
nodded to show that he agreed. Wedging himself under the taller man's arm to
support him, they edged down the hall away from the psychics.
"Leaving so soon, Weiss?" Schuldich snarled at them, bringing his pistol up
again. "How about I give you a parting gift?" Omi saw his finger squeezing the
trigger, and knew he was about to end up with a rather large hole somewhere on
his body. Abruptly Schuldich dropped the gun and clutched at his head; at the
same moment Nagi moaned and every movable object in the corridor was picked up
and blown directly away from the telekinetic. Including the three other
assassins.
Omi and Aya prudently took the opportunity to escape, allowing the telekinetic
pressure to help them along. Schuldich had been thrown in the opposite
direction and he couldn't get to them or his gun without passing by Nagi, which
was currently impossible to do. It didn't look like he was in much shape to do
anything anyway; he was still holding his head and whimpering softly.
They staggered out to the parking lot where they met up with the others; Ken
had Youji's arm thrown over his shoulders, and was helping the wounded playboy
walk. "Farfarello," he said by way of explanation when Omi made a concerned
noise. "Figures the knife-wielding psycho would be the only one unaffected
by... by... whatever the hell it is that's messing with their powers."
"As long as it keeps them from killing us, I'm not complaining," Youji replied
wearily. "Crawford got the bombs before that fit hit him - all the detonators
are disconnected. You guys have any better luck?"
Omi shook his head miserably. "We'll have to come back another day and try
again. For now we need to get out of here and bandage our..."
He froze, feeling malevolent eyes on him. Wildly he searched the darkness
around him, trying to find the unseen observer, but was unsuccessful. "What's
wrong, Bombay?" Ken asked him in concern.
"It's... it's that watcher again," Omi replied nervously, voice thin and high
with tension. At the site of almost every mission since the Esstet disaster, he
had felt this strangely hostile gaze on him. It filled him with an unreasoning
fear, making him want to bolt from the area and never stop running. None of the
others had noticed it, and he'd never been able to see the person watching him.
"It's closer this time," he added, shivering with fear.
"Let's get out of here," Youji seconded his earlier suggestion. "Before
Schwartz recovers and comes back to kick our asses." Shaking, Omi followed him
back to the section they'd cut out of the fence, wondering as they went where
the guards were. Aya leaned heavily on him, having lost enough blood that he
was having trouble standing on his own, and Omi distracted himself by
concentrating on helping his older teammate.
He didn't manage to shake the feeling of being watched until they were well out
of sight of the lab - and he didn't stop shivering until hours after he was
safe in his own bed.
***** Chapter 2 *****
They lay twined together, panting in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Despite
the angel's natural immunity to the dangerous allure of the incubus, sex
between them was always wildly passionate and incredibly draining. The seraph
dredged up the energy from somewhere to stroke gently along the demon's back,
knowing how much his lover appreciated the petting just after sex.
The incubus arched into the touch as he always did, purring with pleasure. His
slit-pupil golden eyes were half-lidded as he drifted in the afterglow, and the
seraph thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his existence.
He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until his lover smiled at him sweetly,
needle-sharp teeth hidden by the curve of his lips. "I was designed to be
irresistible," he pointed out with a chuckle. His husky, melodic voice sent
shivers down the seraph's spine. "You're the beautiful one. And don't tell me
that all angels are beautiful - your radiance outshines any other celestial
that I've ever seen."
The angel actually blushed, though he knew that flattery was first nature to an
incubus. Still, something in the golden eyes told him that though the words
might be glib, the sentiment behind them was true. He hugged his lover tightly,
burying his face in the long sable hair. "They're going to catch us," he
whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Michael is starting to suspect.
They're watching me more closely now - I almost didn't get away to see you
today."
The incubus sighed, and stroked his wings in return. "You didn't," he told him,
and the seraph jerked his head up to stare at his lover. "You didn't get away,"
the demon repeated. "I wasn't going to tell you yet, but... they're already at
my perimeter defences. I didn't notice them until it was too late - we can't
escape."
The seraph shivered, wondering what would happen when Gabriel's Enforcers
reached them. "How long do we have?" he murmured, feeling his heart clench at
the thought that these would be his last moments with his demonic lover.
"An hour at best, but it won't take them less than half an hour to get here,"
the incubus told him with a hint of pride. "I traded Iuvart for these defences
a couple of centuries ago, and they're strong," he added, naming one of the
lesser devils that ruled over the demons of Hell. By now the angel knew better
than to ask his lover WHAT he had traded - he probably didn't want to know the
answer. "Not strong enough to hold out a determined Archangel, but strong
enough to slow them down for a while."
They were silent for a moment, holding each other tightly and trying to stifle
their fear. "They will take us to be Judged, first," the angel finally
murmured, thinking aloud. "There's no question that we're guilty, though. And
no question of the punishment - I'll be cast out, Fallen. And you..."
"I will be turned over to Lucifer, and given to Carreau most likely," the
incubus said matter-of-factly, and the seraph shivered at the thought of his
lover in the hands of the devil of cruelty. "Lucifer may decide to keep my
spirit intact, but he's more likely to order me destroyed." He hesitated, then
added, "Angel, you don't have to Fall."
"What do you mean?" the seraph replied, puzzled.
"They'll give you the chance to repent. If you repent, He forgives you, right?
Then you wouldn't Fall. You should..."
"No!" the seraph cut him off with a palm slapped over his mouth. His lover's
sorrowful eyes stared up at him over his hand, pleading with him to save
himself. He gentled his tone, and continued, "I won't renounce you. I couldn't
- it would be a lie, and He would know it. I love you, and I won't deny that
love."
The incubus licked the palm of his hand, and he drew it away with a gasp. The
little demon rolled him over with a surprisingly strong shove, winding up
perched on top of him, straddling his hips. He showered kisses over the angel's
body with the desperation of one who knows he is damned, and is stealing a last
moment of glory. "Then if this is to be our last hour together, let's make it
count!" he rasped, and the angel willingly gave himself over to the emotions
that raged between them.
 
===============================================================================
Omi awoke with a gasp, the sun streaming into his eyes from the window. His
body was on fire, strung tight with desire from the dream that had just been
interrupted. He panted for air, cursing his over-active teenage hormones.
Then he realized that if the sun was in his face it had to be almost noon.
Panicked, he shoved himself up to a sitting position and fished for his alarm
clock amidst the mess of electronics on his bed. Had he forgotten to set it?
Sure enough, the glowing digits read 'eleven-fifteen', but by then his mind had
caught up with him. He had graduated from school last month, and he didn't have
to work in the shop today until noon. He hadn't overslept after all.
He sighed and curled back up in the one clear corner of his bed. Absently he
nudged a keyboard out of the way with his foot, reflecting for perhaps the
millionth time that he really needed to stop using his bed as a storage space.
Now that his panic had subsided, his body was making its needs very clear
again. Groaning, he buried his face in the pillow and willed the arousal away.
It didn't work, as usual. Damn it, he knew he was almost eighteen, but surely
this was a little excessive even for a teenager!
Every morning for the last two weeks he'd awoken like this, hard and ready and
desperate for the feel of someone, anyone, against him. That was the part that
really disturbed him; for those first few agonizing moments before he took care
of it, he knew with absolute certainty that if Brad Crawford were to walk
through the door, he would jump him without a second thought. It was all he
could do to keep himself from going in search of one of the other Weiss
members!
Biting his lip to restrain the impulse, he snaked one hand down beneath the
covers and gripped his erection. He'd given up on wearing pyjamas entirely -
too frequently they were disgustingly sticky when he awoke, and he'd discovered
that he liked the feeling of freedom that sleeping nude brought.
Unbidden, an image of wide blue eyes, soft dark hair and delicate elfin
features came to him as he stroked himself. He hissed quietly, hating himself
for thinking of his enemy, for not even being in control of his own fantasies.
Since that night two weeks ago when they had kissed he had been unable to get
the thought of Nagi out of his mind, especially at moments like this.
Sable hair, midnight eyes, ivory skin and impossibly lovely features; Omi had
to admit that the telekinetic was beautiful, but he'd known plenty of beautiful
men before, not the least of who were his teammates! None of them had ever
driven him with this need that was perilously close to an obsession, so why
Nagi?
His body tensed as the waves of pleasure coalesced into a single, throbbing
point, then exploded outwards. He muffled a sharp cry with his free hand as his
stomach and fist were coated with sticky white gobs, not wanting any of the
others to hear him if they were around. He lay panting as the aching need
within him slowly faded, abated but not sated by his self-pleasuring.
Finally he stretched, enjoying the feel of the cool linens against his skin and
the pull of his muscles. Sighing, he swung his feet over the side of the bed
and reached for his bathrobe.
Half an hour later, showered, dressed and ready for the day, he wandered into
the kitchen. Ken was there, munching on a sandwich with a glass of milk and a
sports journal on the table in front of him. "Ohayou, Ken-kun!" Omi chirped
sweetly, rummaging through the cupboards for his own lunch.
"More like 'konnichi wa'," Ken told him, laughing. "It's almost noon. I swear,
Omi, you've been getting as bad as Youji about sleeping in!"
"I have not," Omi replied mildly, settling in at the table with his cup ramen
and a glass of apple juice. "I only sleep in on the days I DON'T have morning
shift."
Ken chuckled and conceded the point. "Are you still having those weird dreams?"
Omi nodded. "Hai." In between erotic ones of you, Youji, Aya... and Nagi, he
added mentally. "And I still can't remember what they're about." Silk sliding
against his skin like a lover's touch...
They ate in companionable silence for a few moments. Omi felt content, happy to
be just spending some time with his best friend in a normal, domestic
situation. For a few moments he could pretend that he was a normal boy, with a
normal life.
Ken sighed and gulped down the rest of his milk, holding the empty glass to his
face to capture the last of the coolness. "It's so bloody hot," he commented,
fanning himself with his free hand. "It's almost October, shouldn't it be
cooling off by now?"
Omi nodded his agreement. "It feels like it's about twenty degrees hotter today
than yesterday," he added. "I hope it rains soon - that should cool things off,
at least for a while."
"There's Popsicles in the fridge," Ken told him, and Omi was instantly on his
feet, rummaging through the freezer for the cool treat. "I bought them this
morning when the weather forecast starting saying how hot it was gonna be this
week."
Omi pulled his arm out of the freezer, brandishing the little package
triumphantly. "Grape okay with you?" he asked his friend, and Ken nodded. Omi
expertly broke the Popsicle in two, then opened the package and handed one
piece to Ken. Sighing with pleasure, he slid his own half into his mouth.
"I don't know how you do that," Ken said ruefully around his Popsicle. "When I
try to break them I end up with about a dozen pieces, not two."
"Practice," Omi told him cheerfully, settling back into his chair and sucking
on the icy sweet. "You know how addicted I am to these things in the summer."
He poked the smooth length into his cheek with his tongue and sucked at it for
a moment, then pulled it deeper into his mouth. He loved the way it tasted
slightly different on the different areas of his tongue, loved the sensation of
it sliding between his lips with slippery coolness. Grabbing the wooden stick,
he pulled it free of his mouth with a soft 'pop' and started licking at it
blissfully.
Glancing up, he found Ken staring at him with his Popsicle half in his mouth,
dripping down his shirt. "Ken-kun? Are you okay?" he asked his friend in
concern.
Ken jumped a little, like he was waking from a daydream, and unaccountably
blushed. "Uh... yeah," he said, his voice just a little breathy. "I just, uh,
zoned out there for a second. Oh, damn," he swore, glancing down and seeing the
stains on his soccer jersey. "Damn it, I just washed this!"
Omi chuckled as his the other teen dropped his Popsicle onto his empty plate
and dashed for the sink, wetting a washcloth and scrubbing frantically at the
stains. "It had to be grape, too," he commiserated as the purple marks only
spread. "That's the worst for leaving stains."
"No kidding," Ken said wryly, giving up on getting the juice out of his shirt.
"I just hope it's not permanent." He stripped the shirt off as Omi moved to put
his dishes in the sink, still sucking absently on his Popsicle. Omi couldn't
help but notice the way the muscles moved in Ken's strong torso - he hardly
ever saw the ex-soccer player without his baggy clothes, and it always
surprised him just how well built Ken really was. He enjoyed the rare sight and
hoped he wasn't staring too obviously - none of the other Weiss knew that he
was as interested in boys as he was in girls, and he didn't want to make his
friend uncomfortable.
He was paying more attention to Ken's body than to what his own hands were
doing, and lost his grasp on the ceramic plate. It crashed into the sink and
shattered, and one large, sharp-edged piece grazed the edge of Omi's hand. "Ow,
shit!" he yelped without thinking, yanking his hand back. The loosely held
Popsicle fell from his mouth to splatter on the floor, and he swore again.
"Damn it! Mou, I'm such a klutz!"
Ken was giving him a funny look. "You've been swearing an awful lot lately,
Omi," he informed his friend, turning to grab the roll of paper towels from the
counter. "It's not like you."
Omi glared at the line of blood that was welling up all the way down the side
of his index finger, and stuck the wounded digit in his mouth without thinking.
He lapped at the blood, feeling the sting as his saliva touched the cut. "Have
I?" he asked absently around the finger he was sucking on. "I hadn't noticed.
Youji-kun must be rubbing off on me. Damn it, this is going to need a bandage."
Ken glanced at him as he moved to dump the soggy mess of towels and Popsicle
into the garbage, and blushed again. "You, uh... you shouldn't be doing that,
Omi. You'll infect it. Here, let me see."
Omi obediently withdrew his finger from his mouth, holding it out for Ken's
inspection. The blood instantly flowed to the surface again, mingling with the
traces of his saliva. Ken took his hand and turned it this way and that,
examining it carefully. "Doesn't look like there's any shards in there," he
finally concluded. "It's not deep enough to need stitches, but it's too long
for a band-aid. I'll wrap it for you."
"Thanks," Omi replied, putting pressure on it with his thumb to hold the edges
together and stop the blood while Ken ran to the bathroom for the first aid
kit. He sat back down in his chair, licking his lips and catching the last
coppery drops of his blood. Idly, he wished he had another Popsicle - then
looked over and saw Ken's abandoned one lying on his plate. Glancing at the
hallway, Omi shrugged and reached over and grabbed it, hastily slurping the
melted liquid off it. If Ken was just going to let it sit there and melt, there
was no sense in letting it go to waste.
Ken returned with the bandages, and made a face at him. "Hey, that's mine!" he
protested, kneeling down and taking possession of Omi's injured hand again.
Omi shrugged. "You weren't eating it," he told him lightly, and stuck his
tongue out in a gesture of defiance. Ken laughed.
"Your tongue is purple," he informed Omi, and the younger boy giggled. Ken set
to work wrapping Omi's finger, long practice making his movements quick and
efficient. Omi watched him, dark head bowed over the small hand in his two
bigger ones, muscles in his back rippling with his movements. He was still
shirtless, and Omi drank in the sight with appreciation.
God, Ken-kun is so hot,he thought to himself, scraping his teeth gently along
the end of the Popsicle and grateful for its cooling effect. And the best part
is, he doesn't even know it. Mmm, I could watch him like this all day.
Embarrassingly, he found his body was reacting to the sight and hoped Ken
wouldn't notice it. Mou, I hate being a teenager! Most people have a one-track
mind; I have a one-track body.
He shifted so that the bulge in his pants would hopefully be a little less
obvious, and tried to think about cold things. The Popsicle was almost gone
now, and he bit the last of it off the stick before slurping up the final
juices.
Ken glanced up at him, eyes slightly glazed and face flushed. Omi blinked back
down at him, praying the flush wasn't because the older boy had spotted his
erection. "Uh, Omi..." the other teen started, then trailed off and ducked his
head again.
"Nani?" Omi asked, wondering if Ken was okay.
"N-nandemo nai," Ken muttered, tying off the bandage around Omi's finger.
"Nothing, it's nothing." He stood hastily, not looking the younger boy in the
face as he turned to the sink and rummaged among the pieces of the plate.
"You'd better get downstairs for your shift - I'm still on lunch break, so I'll
clean this up."
Omi nodded, perturbed by his friend's behaviour, and slowly moved for the
stairs. Mentally he cursed his wayward body, wishing he could figure out some
way to keep his hormones under control. Though of all three of them, he was
glad it had been Ken. Youji would never have stopped teasing him, and who knew
what Aya would have done. Cut it off, maybe?
He shivered and felt his erection wilt at the very thought. Well, at least I
found one image that helps!he thought to himself ironically.
Entering the store, he found Aya hard at work and Youji flirting with the
girls, as usual. With his usual bright sunny smile, he greeted all the girls in
the store. It was summer break, so they had to deal with the fangirls all day
long instead of just after school, though it did mean they didn't all show up
at once.
"Omi."
Aya's smooth voice drew him over to where the redhead was making an Ikebana
arrangement. "Hai?" he asked, watching Aya's hands fly over the delicate stems.
He loved watching Aya work; the graceful, economical motions that created the
artistic arrangements that were the only way the swordsman permitted himself to
express his emotions.
"We've got a bunch of deliveries ready, will you run them out?" Aya asked him,
pausing to glare at a brave fangirl who was reaching out to touch him. The girl
snatched her hand back with a little squeak and scurried back to rejoin the
group of her friends around Youji. Omi suppressed a chuckle.
"Sure thing, Aya-kun," he replied, picking up the address sheet and the scooter
keys. "Are they all out in the scooter already?"
Aya nodded, and he waved a cheerful goodbye to the store in general, ignoring
the protests of the girls that he had only just got there. Trotting out to the
back where they kept their own vehicles as well as the shop scooter, he snagged
his helmet from the rack and strapped it on. After double-checking that the
arrangements were in fact in the tiny refrigeration unit, he headed out for the
first address.
Nearly an hour later he smiled cheerfully as the last recipient signed the
form, and sighed with relief as she closed the door in his face. It was much
too hot to be out of doors, he decided wearily. There was a little ice cream
store on the way back to the shop; he decided to stop and get himself and the
others some ice cream.
Not surprisingly, there was a huge crowd gathered around the store. He had to
park his bike nearly a block away, and decided to leave his helmet on the seat.
He would be standing in line for a while, and it would be much too hot to wear.
He trudged back down the sidewalk towards the store, humming happily under his
breath. It was, he reflected again, nice to just be doing normal things, things
that any other teenager might be doing - working, getting ice cream for his
friends, just living his life in peace.
As if on cue he felt himself being yanked by an invisible force, dragged
towards a nearby narrow alleyway. He tried to cry out for help and found his
jaw clamped shut; tried to reach for his darts and found his limbs held
immobile. He was still a few dozen feet from the crowd around the store and no
one was looking his way; he vanished into the alley without anyone even knowing
he'd been there.
He struggled futilely against the restraining force, knowing it was useless
unless another one of those odd 'fits' took the telekinetic. He knew it was
Nagi - there was no one else it could reasonably be.
Sure enough, after he'd been dragged a good fifty feet down the alley he found
himself shoved up against the wall with a lean, hard body pressed up against
his. Nagi glared at him from inches away, using his own body weight to keep Omi
pinned in case his powers faltered.
Omi had to admit to being a little frightened. They all knew Schwartz was out
for their blood, but thus far the psychics hadn't actually sought them out when
they weren't on a mission. Nagi looked furious - Omi had never seen so much
emotion on the normally collected boy's face. He gulped and tried to squirm
away, succeeding only in rubbing his body against the younger assassin's. For
the second time that day he was mortified to feel his body reacting in an all-
too predictable way.
"What the hell did you DO to me?" Nagi hissed at him furiously, eyes a little
wild. "What was that energy? Why did you kiss me? And WHY can't I stop thinking
about you?"
The last was little more than a wail, and Omi stared at him. Finding that his
jaw was working again, he replied in a hoarse voice, "I could ask you the same
thing. You're the one who's got someone on his team capable of messing with
minds."
Nagi ground his back teeth together audibly. "Schuldich swears up and down that
he didn't do anything," he gritted out. "Though gods know he's laughing enough
about it! And Crawford just keeps warning me to stay the hell away from you. I
can't stand it any more - I need to know what the hell is happening to me!"
"I don't know," Omi replied quietly. "I really don't. It's happening to me,
too."
Nagi's shoulders slumped as he gave a defeated little moan, and Omi felt the
pressure holding him against the wall slacken. Instantly he was struggling
again, and he managed to free one foot enough to kick out at the psychic's
legs.
That proved to be a mistake - Nagi tripped and fell backwards, hands
instinctively grabbing at Omi's shoulders to keep himself upright. He lost his
concentration and the supporting force around Omi dropped away entirely,
sending them both sprawling onto the ground.
Omi wound up in a rather compromising position, straddling the telekinetic's
hips as Nagi clutched at his shoulders. Their groins brushed together, and
somehow Omi wasn't surprised to find that Nagi was as aroused as he was. They
stared at one another, panting hard and both trying to find the willpower to
shove the other one away.
Both of them were wearing simple shorts and t-shirts, and everywhere their skin
touched Omi could feel a deep tingling sensation. It wasn't unpleasant - far
from it, in fact, but it was driving him to distraction. A wave of deja vu
swept over him, as though they'd been in this position many times before.
"What's happening to us?" Nagi gasped out from beneath him, and Omi shook his
head.
"I don't know," he repeated his earlier reply, feeling his entire body
trembling from the strength of his need to gather this beautiful boy in his
arms and kiss him senseless. Slowly, with an extreme effort of will, he managed
to pry himself away from the telekinetic's clutching hands and roll away so
they weren't touching any more.
They both lay there in the dirt of the alley, panting and staring at the sky,
unwilling to look at each other for fear it would begin all over again. "I feel
like this has happened before," Nagi finally murmured, echoing Omi's
sentiments.
"I don't like you," he added as he sat up, as though there had ever been any
doubt. "You're a goody-two-shoes and a pain in the ass. I can't stand the way
you think you're better than me because you're killing for 'justice'."
"Well, I don't like you either," Omi informed him sourly, carefully avoiding
looking into his eyes after one brief glance made them both breathlessly dizzy.
"I hate the way you hurt people without even thinking twice about it. I hate
you for the way you protect evil people while they hurt innocents, instead of
using your ability to protect those innocents."
They were both standing shakily now, leaning against opposite walls of the
alley for support. "Now that we've firmly established that we don't like each
other," Nagi said wryly, "what the hell are we going to do about this? How am I
supposed to fight you if I get a hard on every time I even think about you,
never mind look at you?"
Omi growled a little and shook his head. "This is ridiculous. We're enemies. We
hate each other. Why is this happening to us?"
They were both silent for a moment, thinking. "Maybe we should just get it over
with and get it out of our systems?" Nagi finally suggested hesitantly.
Surprised, Omi snapped his gaze up to see Nagi's face without thinking, and
they were caught again. "I mean," the younger boy continued, his voice gone
suddenly breathy, "we don't have to like each other to sleep together. I don't
think this is going to go away on its own."
Omi was tempted - oh, was he tempted! His body was frantically urging him to
take the other boy up on his offer here and now, in fact. But something told
him it wouldn't be that easy, while another part of his soul cried out that it
shouldn't be this way. "No," he gasped out, struggling with himself. "No, not
like that. I... I can't just jump into bed with you, whatever my body might
want." I want to be in love with the person who is my first!his mind added in a
wail.
As he spoke he was amazed to feel some of the straining tension ebbing from
him, giving him a little breathing room. He could see from the look on Nagi's
face that the other boy felt it, too. After a few moments it wasn't so painful
to look at each other any more; after another few the clawing in his gut faded
away to a simple ache. They were both breathing a little freer, still leaning
against their walls for support as they stared at each other.
"Is... is it gone?" Omi finally ventured to ask. He was still shaking in
reaction to the power of the feelings that had enveloped him, and Nagi didn't
look very steady either. "Will it come back, do you think?"
"I don't know," it was Nagi's turn to say. Tentatively they both straightened
up, awkward and uncertain with each other. Experimentally he reached out with
one hand, and Nagi hesitantly met it.
Their hands met and fingers tangled, and both felt a tiny little surge of that
strange energy. But it was nowhere near as strong as it had been, and it was
gone almost as fast as it came. They continued to stare at each other over
their twined fingers, still not sure what to do next.
"Do you want to get some ice cream?" Omi heard himself blurt out, and he
wondered if he was losing his mind. Had he really just asked Naoe Nagi out for
ice cream?
Nagi looked as surprised as he felt. "Ice cream?" he repeated in such a
bewildered tone of voice that Omi had to giggle.
"Yeah, you know... cold stuff made from milk?" Omi prompted him.
Nagi scowled at him. "I know what ice cream is," he informed him crossly. "I
meant, 'why'?"
Omi blushed and dropped his gaze, and was startled to find that they were still
holding hands. Hastily he tugged his fingers free. "I don't know... it was
stupid. I just thought... I mean... oh, just forget..."
"Okay."
Omi wasn't sure who was more surprised by the acceptance, him or Nagi. He
peered up at the other boy through his lashes, and saw that he was blushing and
staring at the ground. Rather than questioning it, he simply turned and started
walking back down the alley.
There was a choked noise behind him, and he turned curiously to see Nagi with
his hand over his mouth, eyes dancing. "What?"
"You've got crap all down your back," Nagi told him with a snort. Twisting to
try to look at his back, Omi was dismayed to find that he was right. The ground
in the alley was filthy, and he was covered in it where he'd lain on his back.
"Damn," he said, softly but with feeling as he started to brush ineffectually
at the dirt. Nagi watched him struggle for a moment, then sighed and helped him
get the places he couldn't reach.
Omi caught a glimpse of Nagi's own back, and started to laugh. "You're even
worse than I am," he giggled. "I think I'm just going to get Ken-kun to turn
the hose on me when I get back."
Nagi chuckled at the image, and before they knew it they were both laughing,
leaning on each other for support. They staggered out of the alley and into the
line for ice cream, ignoring the looks they were getting from the other
patrons.
"We look like we either just had a major fight, or sex in a really dirty
place," Nagi whispered to him conspiratorially, a hint of a smile still tugging
at his lips.
"Well, we almost did!" Omi replied just as quietly. They both giggled again,
and were still laughing when they finally got their ice cream.
They took it to the park across the street, and sat on the grass in the shade
while they licked at the rapidly melting treats. Omi slurped contentedly at
his, as always happiest with something frozen in his mouth. He watched Nagi
surreptitiously, uncertain how to act around his not-quite-so-hated enemy. He
caught Nagi looking back at him, and they both blushed and glanced away.
This is weird, he couldn't help thinking. First I hate him, then I kiss him,
then I can't stop thinking about him, then I want him - oh, how I wanted him! -
and now we're sitting here like friends - or lovers. I think this may be just
about the strangest day of my life.
They finished their ice cream and sat in silence for another long moment,
neither quite willing to end the odd scene. Abruptly Nagi jerked his head up
and stared off into space.
"I have to go," he said, sounding just a little reluctant but mostly relieved
that this strange encounter was coming to an end. "Brad wants me for
something."
"How do you know?" Omi asked him curiously.
Nagi gave him a 'duh' look. "Schuldich told me." Omi blushed, feeling stupid.
Nagi stood and automatically brushed at the seat of his shorts to get rid of
the grass marks, then rolled his eyes as he realized it was pointless
considering the muck already there. He paused, then shrugged awkwardly. "Thanks
for the ice cream."
Omi watched him go, needing another few moments to gather his thoughts before
returning to the Koneko. Whatever force it was that was playing merry hell with
his life, he had a strong feeling it wasn't through with them yet.
***** Chapter 3 *****
They sat curled around each other on the floor of the demon's lair, naked,
luxuriating in the feel of the silks, satins and velvets that lined the little
dimensional pocket. The incubus played gently with the feathered tip of one of
the seraph's great white wings, purring with pleasure as his lover ran a soft
brush through his hair.
The angel kept his strokes even and gentle, enjoying the response the pampering
elicited from the little demon. "Now I understand why humans insist on keeping
cats as pets," he murmured softly, affection clear in his voice. "I think that
purring of yours is the most soothing sound I've ever heard in my life."
His lover glanced back over his shoulder, hurt showing deep in his golden eyes.
"Soothing?" he repeated, affronted. "It's supposed to be erotic!"
The seraph chuckled quietly. "It's that, too, and you know it," he told him,
tapping him on the nose with the brush before returning to his steady stroking.
"But I'm not as susceptible to your wiles as the poor mortals."
"Oh?" the incubus drawled, stretching lazily. The angel caught his breath at
the wave of lust the simple action sent crashing over him. "You seemed
susceptible enough half an hour ago," the demon continued, a glint in his eyes
showing that he was well aware of the effect his movements had on his lover.
"And why 'poor mortals'? They've never objected to my... attentions..."
"That's because you've snared them with your powers long before they realize
the danger they're in. By the time they figure out what you are, it's much too
late."
The demon shrugged negligently, the muscles in his back rippling enticingly
with the motion. "At least my victims don't die in mortal agony," he replied
indifferently. "Their last moments are full of the most incredible pleasure
they've ever felt. That's more than you can say about most demons."
The seraph sighed and leaned forward to rest his head on his lover's shoulder.
"I don't understand how you can be so casual about killing people!" he
complained, a familiar argument between them. "Pleasure or not, you're ending
their lives prematurely. It's not right!"
"It's my nature," the demon snapped back in frustration, tired of having to
justify himself to the angel. "Your nature is to run around orchestrating the
saving of souls of mortals who don't want to be saved, and mine is to sleep
with anything that moves and feed off the sexual energy. And despite what they
might believe of incubi, it's not like I'm hurting their immortal souls any.
Bless it all to Heaven, why can't you at least try to understand that!"
Despite himself the seraph had to chuckle at the sound of his lover using a
blessing as an epithet, though he'd heard it many times before. To another
demon the words would have caused a shiver of pain, but of course an angel was
unaffected by them. Seeing his reaction, the incubus scowled and deliberately
changed his wording. "Damn you," he hissed, and there was enough force behind
his words that the angel actually cried out in pain. "Damn you to Hell! I
didn't ask you to fall in love with me, I didn't ask you to turn my life upside
down and make me fall in love with you! You may be in danger of Falling, but
I'm risking eternal destruction to be with you! And you can't do anything but
lecture me about things I can't help and wouldn't change if I could. Damn it,
you knew what I was when you fell in love with me, and you knew what that
meant!"
He'd gotten up and paced to the other side of the room, too upset to bear the
touch of his angel lover. There were tears on his face, the tears of a spirit
in agony. The seraph saw that and his sobs from the pain of the curses turned
to sobs of repentance.
"I'm sorry!" he cried, reaching a hand out pleadingly to his lover. "Love,
please, I'm sorry. You're right. I have no right to judge you, and I shouldn't
try to change you. Please, forgive me! I just... I just can't understand you.
I'll try harder, I promise!"
The demon sighed and hugged himself tightly, his wings drooping until the tips
dragged on the ground. "Bless it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his
head. "Why can't I ever stay angry at you?" Moving back to the nest they had
made, he dropped down and wrapped his arms tightly around the seraph's neck.
"Just hold me?" he whispered, tucking his head under the taller celestial's
chin. The angel rocked him gently, and they both cried for the pain of an
impossible love between two such opposite beings; a love that they nevertheless
could not deny.
 
===============================================================================
Omi tossed and turned in the narrow bed, utterly unable to sleep. His room at
Villa White had no curtains over the window, and he could see a tiny block of
the night sky, the bright stars staring down like watchful eyes. It gave him
the shivers, reminding him of the sensation of being watched that he'd had at
every mission for most of the last four months.
His frustrated body was not happy with him, and it was letting him know it in
no uncertain terms. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing in his groin, Omi
wondered if other teens had this much trouble with themselves, or if he was
just some weird kind of sex-starved pervert. Damn it, he'd already taken care
of it once that night, only to wake up a few hours later with the same problem!
And it was all because of Nagi, he was convinced of that. They'd seen each
other twice more since that fateful incident in the alley; once as enemies
fighting over a target, and once when they'd run into each other in an arcade
and spent the afternoon challenging each other's high scores. This horrible
driving NEED got worse with every contact they had, though they had never
directly felt that strange electricity again as anything stronger than a small
shock. He still couldn't stop thinking about the other boy, and to make matters
worse, he was actually starting to like him for his own sake.
They had talked to each other, really talked to each other, for the first time
that day in the arcade. Over the sound of the bleeps and whistles from the
machines, a surprising number of bits of information had been traded. He now
knew that Nagi's favourite colour was gold, for example, and that the other boy
had a secret sweet tooth at least as strong as his own. He'd told Nagi a bit
about what it was like to live without all his memories, and Nagi responded
with all kinds of stories about the impossibility of living with his teammates.
It made the psychic real to him; not just a hated face from across the
battlefield, but a living, breathing boy not really all that different from
himself. He was acutely aware that it wouldn't have taken much for him to be in
the same position Nagi was in - the other boy hated the world because of all
the pain that had been dealt to him in his short life, and only Persia's
intervention had saved Omi from what would have been a similar life on the
streets had he managed to escape his captors. For that matter, if he hadn't
been kidnapped at all, but had remained with his family, he had few doubts that
he would be a very different person.
What's more, Nagi had begun reluctantly responding to the gentle cheerfulness
that Omi always exuded, opening up and becoming a little less angry. He'd
confided that Crawford had taken him aside after their encounter in the
alleyway, and fumingly ordered him not to ever speak to Omi again. He told Omi
that he suspected it was because of the possibility that the White Hunter might
'corrupt' him - convince him that not everyone in the world was deserving of
his hate. That would weaken Crawford's control over him, and therefore his
usefulness to the American.
Of all of Schwartz, Omi had concluded, Nagi was the best of the lot. He was
beginning to see signs of an inherently gentle nature behind the angry
exterior, and he almost dared to believe that Nagi might one day decide to
leave the dark influence of his teammates. It was a thought he kept very, very
deep in his mind, lest Schuldich pick it up and decide to do something to
prevent that occurrence.
With a groan he dragged his mind back to the present, unsurprised to find that
his wandering thoughts of Nagi had brought about a predictable reaction. His
hand was wrapped around his erection, pumping in time to his heartbeat. He gave
in to the inevitable.
Finally he lay gasping on his bed, hand and stomach coated for the second time
that night. His body felt weighed down with exhaustion, but he was still too
wound up to sleep. Suddenly he felt an urgent need to talk to someone about the
mess that had become his life. Maybe if he could get someone else's point of
view, it would help him straighten out his thoughts.
Wearily he cleaned himself up and slid on a pair of pyjama bottoms. He debated
about the top for a few moments, before deciding that it was much too hot to
wear them. Barefoot and bare-chested, he crept out of his room and down the
hall.
He passed by Aya's door without a second thought. He sincerely doubted that Aya
would be sympathetic to his plight. At Youji's door he paused, thinking. Youji
had more experience with relationships than Ken, and Omi was fairly certain he
could count on Youji not to tease him about something this upsetting, but he
wasn't sure he could actually bring himself to confess his problem to the
playboy. He also didn't know what Youji's reaction to finding out that Omi
liked boys would be. He passed by, and knocked softly on Ken's door.
Then he wondered what he was doing. It was three in the morning; Ken would be
sound asleep and probably wouldn't appreciate being woken up. They were
supposed to be on vacation, catching up on their rest. However much he wanted
to feel someone's arms around him, comforting him, he was being selfish.
Wrapping his own arms around his torso as a poor substitute, he turned away,
shivering.
There was a rustling behind him as he moved down the hall back towards his own
room, and Ken's door opened to reveal the sleepy-looking ex-soccer player. He
yawned and rubbed his eyes, and blinked at Omi. "Omi? What're you doing up?" he
whispered, yawning again. His expression became concerned when he saw the way
Omi was shaking. "You okay?"
Omi forced himself to nod, the movement jerky with effort. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm
sorry I woke you up, I... uh, I was on my way back from getting a glass of
water and stumbled against your door," he hastily improvised. Ken frowned,
unconvinced.
"C'mon, Omi, I know you better than that," Ken chided him. "You decided it was
rude to wake me up and you were going back to your room, weren't you?"
Omi cursed himself for blushing, knowing Ken would read the truth on his face.
The older boy chuckled softly. "Sometimes you're too polite for your own damn
good, Omittchi," he berated him. "I'm already awake, and I'm not going to go
back to sleep if I'm worrying about you, so why don't you just come in?"
Omi hesitated, but finally gave in and gratefully slipped in through the door
Ken held open for him. The older boy shut the door behind them, and immediately
Omi found himself enveloped in a firm embrace.
"You looked like you were in desperate need of a hug," Ken told him fondly,
lifting one hand to stroke his hair. Omi leaned into the caress, burying his
face in Ken's shoulder and hesitantly returning the embrace. They stood there
like that for a moment as the tense muscles in Omi's neck and shoulders finally
began to relax; then Ken pulled away and took his hand, tugging him towards the
bed.
They sprawled out together, Omi tucked securely against Ken's side with his
head pillowed on the older boy's shoulder. He listened to the soothing sound of
his friend's heartbeat, and relaxed further.
"It's been a long time since we've done this," Ken murmured softly, stroking
his back. "Remember when it was just you and me, before Youji and Aya came?"
Omi nodded, wrapping his arm around Ken's waist and holding tight. Two years
ago when they had been alone in Weiss they had often slept curled up together
like this, trying to chase away the nightmares. Despite Omi's long history with
Kritiker, killing had been new to both of them, and they had needed each
other's help to deal with it.
By the time Manx brought Youji to them they had long since dealt with their
consciences, and slept together only for the comfort it brought them. The first
time their new teammate had discovered them, however, he had teased them for a
week straight. Embarrassed, they had put an end to the practice. Sadly, Omi
realized now that the closeness of their friendship had been weakened because
of it. "I've missed this," he confided, revelling in the simple warmth of his
friend's body against his. Ken was also dressed only in his pyjama bottoms, and
the spicy scent of his skin was strong when Omi inhaled.
"Me, too," Ken answered, squeezing him briefly. "Now, do you want to tell me
what's bugging you? You don't have to."
Omi sighed, and snuggled a little closer. Hesitantly, he began, "I... I have to
tell you something, first. I... I... I like boys," he finished in a rush,
mumbling the words against Ken's chest.
The older boy blushed, hard enough that Omi could see it without raising his
head. "Oh," was all he said, awkwardly. Omi felt his own face flaming.
"Please, don't be disgusted with me," he pleaded in an anguished whisper. If
this ruined his relationship with his best friend, he didn't know what he'd
do...
"No!" Ken exclaimed, sounding shocked at the thought. He hugged Omi closer to
him. "I'm not disgusted, just surprised," he reassured the smaller boy hastily.
"You're... you're not?" Omi peeked up at him with one eye, studying his face
intently.
Ken laughed softly. "I'm the last person who'd be disgusted by it, Omittchi,"
he murmured gently. "Didn't you know? Kase and I were together for years." Omi
stared at him in surprise, thinking back over the mission that had involved
Ken's former best friend. Suddenly several things that hadn't made sense at the
time fell into place.
Ken shrugged, reading his thoughts in his eyes. "We didn't advertise it, it
would have gotten us in trouble," he explained. "And he was kind of a special
exception - I generally prefer girls. Is that what's been bothering you
lately?"
Omi shook his head. "No, I dealt with that a long time ago. It's... it's a
couple of things, really. I've been having these dreams..."
"The weird ones you were telling me about?" Ken prompted him when he trailed
off, embarrassed.
"No... well, yes, I'm still having them, but aside from the fact that they seem
to make me more tired, I've kind of gotten used to them." Omi sighed. "When I'm
not having those dreams, I'm... they're..." He blushed fiercely, unable to
express himself.
Ken caught on anyway, and chuckled. "Erotic dreams?" he guessed, and Omi nodded
mutely. "Aw, Omittchi, that's no big deal. You're a few months short of
eighteen - I'd be worried if you weren't having them!"
"I know that," Omi replied, red-faced. "I've had them for years. It's just...
they're getting more frequent. A LOT more frequent. And I'm reacting to all
sorts of things while I'm awake, too. It's like I can't think about anything
else - it's embarrassing, and it's getting out of hand!"
Ken shrugged, the movement making his chest muscles ripple beneath Omi's cheek.
"Welcome to your sexual peak," he told the younger boy wryly. "Get used to it -
you're going to be living like that for the next couple of years. I'm just
finally getting past that stage, and I'm almost twenty now!"
Omi still felt that he wasn't conveying the strength of his problem adequately,
but he really didn't want to go into any more detail. He dropped that topic,
and went on to his other, more pressing problem. "It's also... WHO I'm dreaming
about," he admitted shyly.
"Hmm, let me guess. The three of us?" Ken took a stab at it. "That's not
surprising either, you know. I mean, we're all reasonably attractive, and
you're around us all the time. You don't really have any other friends you're
close to."
Omi shook his head. "I do dream about you guys, but... lately the only person I
can seem to think about is... is... Nagi," he finished in a shamed whisper.
Ken leaned up on his side to get a better look at him. "Nagi?" he repeated in
surprise. "Why Nagi? I mean, I suppose he's pretty enough, but I thought you
hated him?"
"We... we sort of kissed, by accident, in a fight once," Omi told him
miserably. "He'd lost his powers and I had him pinned; he was trying to bite
me. It was like... it was like there was this weird electricity between us, a
sort of connection like nothing I've ever felt before. And ever since then, I
haven't been able to get him out of my head."
Ken was chewing on his lower lip, absently stroking Omi's shoulder
reassuringly. "It could be Schuldich," he finally suggested. "Playing with your
head. It's just the sort of thing I could see him pulling..."
"No. Nagi says Schuldich swears that it wasn't him..." Omi stumbled to a halt
and blushed again as he realized what he'd just admitted. "He's been having the
same problem," he explained in a rush. "He cornered me in an alley a couple of
weeks ago and demanded to know what I'd done to him." Some instinct of self-
preservation kept him from mentioning the ice cream and arcade - he wasn't
ready to admit to openly associating with his enemy just yet, not even to Ken.
"I've tried everything I can think of to get rid of it - short of 'getting it
out of our systems', which was his suggestion."
Ken sighed, and hugged him. "Sounds like you're infatuated with him," he told
him frankly. "It's not too surprising, if you think about it. You're both the
youngest ones on your teams, both physically the weakest, both hackers. You're
always fighting each other; that would lead to a kind of fascination all by
itself. And he IS very attractive. The best cure for an infatuation is either
time, 'getting it out of your system' like he said, or... or finding a real
relationship."
Omi closed his eyes in defeat and leaned his forehead against Ken's shoulder.
"That's what I was afraid of," he murmured despairingly. "This attraction is so
strong, I'm afraid I might eventually give in to it. That's... that's not how I
want my first time to be!"
"Then I guess you'd better find someone else to fall in love with, Omittchi."
There was an odd quality to Ken's voice that made him look up; the older boy
was looking at him with an expression that was both intent and uncertain. Omi
was suddenly breathless, and all too aware of how close he was to his friend's
beautiful half-naked body.
"Ken?" he whispered, hands clutching at the well-muscled shoulders. His body
was awakening for the third time that night, and he spared a brief thought to
marvel at his own stamina.
"Omi," Ken breathed out in return, burying his face in Omi's neck and making
him shiver at the feel of his breath on the sensitive skin there. "I... I've
been thinking about you a lot, lately," he admitted quietly, his hands stroking
along Omi's bare back. "Haven't been able to get my mind off you, in fact. Ever
since that day with the Popsicle... god, Omi, you have no idea how erotic it is
to watch you sucking away on one of those things! I swear if I didn't know
better I'd think you did it on purpose." He sighed, and Omi gave a low moan. "I
was going to wait until you turned eighteen to say anything... and I was afraid
YOU would be disgusted."
"Oh, Ken..." he moaned again and pressed close to his friend's body, loving the
sensual glide of skin against skin as their bare chests met and rubbed
together. THIS was what he'd been wanting, needing - this feel of another hard,
hot body against his, exciting him and bringing him to new heights of pleasure.
How often had he daydreamed about doing this with Ken in the last two years?
Surely this would make the gnawing ache inside him go away. "Help me forget
him," he murmured, pleading for surcease from the thoughts that had been
driving him to distraction. "Help me, Ken!"
Ken leaned down and captured his lips, kissing him long and thoroughly. His
lips parted without him even thinking about it, and his tongue tangled eagerly
with the other boy's. Ken pushed lightly on his back, drawing him closer until
they were touching along the entire length of their bodies. Omi moaned again as
their erections brushed together through the thin cotton pyjamas, breaking off
the kiss to gasp for air.
"You're so sexy, Omi, you have no idea!" Ken whispered into his ear, tongue
darting out to brush the delicate shell and making him shiver. "I always used
to think you were cute, sweet... I must have been blind. Or crazy. Youji's got
nothing on you." He trailed his kisses down past Omi's ear to his neck, biting
lightly and blowing on the wet marks he left behind.
Omi ran his hands gently down Ken's chest, exploring. This felt so right, so
good! He could stay here like this forever and be content, just enjoying the
sensations evoked by their closeness.
Ken slid his hands down further, dipping below the waistband of Omi's pants and
cupping the soft globes of his ass gently. Omi cried out as Ken pulled their
bodies more tightly together, grinding their erections together in maddening
little circles. His entire body was on fire and he was panting for air, and
yet... suddenly something seemed off kilter, out of place. He shoved gently at
Ken's shoulder, uncomfortable with the speed things were moving at. "Ken,
wait."
Ken nuzzled at his neck, making him gasp and arch into the contact. "It's okay,
Omi," he murmured in reply, still rocking their hips together. "Just relax,
it's okay."
Omi tried to obey, wanting to recapture that feeling of rightness. It felt so
good, he wanted it so much... except for that tiny part of his soul that was
crying out again, the same part of him that had objected to Nagi's suggestion
that they deal with the problem by getting it out of their systems. This wasn't
right, this wasn't how it was supposed to go!
"Ken, please," he gasped out, trying unsuccessfully to pull away. Ken held
tightly to him, dipping his head to bite at one of Omi's nipples. He moaned
again at the jolt of pleasure/pain, and suddenly he was a little desperate.
"Ken!" he exclaimed, shaking his friend's shoulders. "Ken, stop! I... I'm not
ready for this..."
Ken made a soothing noise, freeing one hand from his ass to stroke his
quivering stomach muscles gently. "Relax, Omi, I won't hurt you," he said, his
words muffled against Omi's heaving chest. "You're just nervous, it's natural.
You know I'd never hurt you."
He trailed his hand further down, to grip at Omi's erection through his pants.
Omi cried out and his hips thrust up of their own volition, aching for more of
that rough touch. Omi told himself forcefully that Ken was right, he knew the
older boy would never hurt him; it was just nerves. Ken pumped him slowly,
rubbing his own erection against the outside of Omi's thigh, and Omi's eyes
rolled back in his head from the pleasure.
Still, he couldn't rid himself of the tightness in his chest. However much his
body was screaming for more, his mind cried out against it. An image of Nagi
came to him, and he ridiculously felt as if he were betraying the other boy.
"No! Ken, stop!" he cried out, softly so the others wouldn't wake and hear
them. Ken ignored him, biting painfully at his nipple and increasing the speed
of his hand. Omi's body tensed, rapidly approaching a crest of pleasure that he
desperately didn't want to reach. Not like this! Tears welled up in his eyes as
he pleaded, "Please, don't, Ken I don't want... I... oh, gods!"
He sobbed as he reached orgasm despite his attempts to hold it off, crying for
the pain of his soul and the pleasure of his body. Ken held him tightly,
whispering gently in his ear. "See, it's good, nothing to be afraid of. It gets
even better, I promise. Just relax, let it happen."
"No..." Omi turned his head to the side, avoiding the older boy's kisses. Ken
just trailed his mouth down Omi's neck, his hands busily drawing the now-soaked
pyjama bottoms off Omi's body. He whimpered, struggling uselessly to free
himself from Ken's hard grip. "Please, Ken..."
"Shh, just relax," Ken admonished him, his voice tight with his own desire.
"C'mon, Omi, you can't tell me it didn't feel good," he added, trailing one
hand through the warm liquid pooled on the younger boy's flat stomach. "You
want this as much as I do, I can tell."
"Noooo..." Omi sobbed again, hiccupping on his tears as Ken coated a finger in
the sticky mess and trailed it down, beneath his still hard erection. He
squirmed to try to get away from that intrusive finger, even as his body ached
for it to be inside him. He felt like he was at war with himself, struggling
against his own desires.
"Omi." Ken's voice had gone suddenly hard with warning, and his eyes glittered
with as much anger as lust. "Don't be such a tease. It's just nerves. You want
this - just look at how hard you still are. Relax, damn it!"
Ken was right - he was still so hard it hurt. Was he just being silly? Surely
if he just relaxed and let it happen, it would be good. It had felt so
wonderful even when he was protesting, maybe if he just forced himself to
respond it would be okay...
His mind rebelled as he felt that questing finger slip inside him up to the
first knuckle, and he reacted without thinking. His knee came up sharply, and
he caught Ken by surprise. The older boy curled around his injured genitals,
crying out at the unexpected pain and freeing Omi from his grasp. He scrambled
off the bed, heedless of his nakedness, just wanting to get away. He heard Ken
cursing quietly behind him as he fumbled the door open and staggered into the
hallway.
He headed straight for the bathroom, since that was the only room in the
building that had a lock on the door. Not that a simple lock would stop Ken if
he was really determined, but Omi didn't think his friend would go that far. He
shut the door behind him and flipped the latch, leaning against the solid wood
and trembling wildly.
Had Ken really just almost raped him? No, no, Ken would never do that. Not to
him, not to anyone! He'd led him on, he'd practically begged Ken to do it,
pleading with him to help him forget. So he'd gotten what he'd asked for, it
was his own fault. Only, it didn't feel like it was what he'd asked for.
Shuddering in reaction, he stumbled over to the shower and turned it on full
blast, not caring if the sound would wake Aya and Youji. He stepped under the
water, letting the icy spray cool his still raging body as he leaned weakly
against the tiled wall and cried.
***** Chapter 4 *****
"You know, I've always wondered," the seraph mused quietly, playing absently
with a long lock of his lover's hair as usual, "maybe you can clear this up for
me..."
"Hmm?" the incubus replied lazily, not really paying attention. They were lying
on a grassy hillside in a deserted part of the mortal world, just spending a
few rare moments together watching the clouds. "What is it?" he asked more
clearly, shaking himself from the half-trance he'd fallen into.
"Well, everyone knows that angels can Fall," the white-winged being pointed
out. "If they do too many evil things, or if they disobey one of the Laws of
Heaven, or half a dozen other things."
"Sure," the demon agreed, rolling to face him curiously. "Worried that you're
going to Fall because of me?" he asked gently.
The seraph shook his head. "No. I mean, I WILL Fall if we ever get caught, but
I gave up worrying about that a long time ago. I can't bring myself to give you
up, so that's that, and there's no point in fretting about it."
The incubus had to smile to see some of his own careless attitude rubbing off
on his lover. How it surprised him, sometimes, to remember what a stiff-necked
puritan the angel had been when they'd first met! "So?" he prompted, wondering
what had brought about this sudden bout of philosophy.
"So... why isn't there a correlation among demons? If angels can Fall from
grace, doesn't it stand to reason that there might be demons who could... I
don't know..."
"Rise to grace?" the incubus suggested, and the seraph nodded. "We can. It just
never, ever happens."
"Well, why not?" the angel wanted to know. "You're no more inherently evil than
an angel is inherently good. Why hasn't it ever happened?"
The incubus sighed, and rolled back over to stare up at the sky. "Because it's
not permitted," he answered reluctantly. "God," his mouth twisted as he said
the word, "is merciful. He gave His creations free will, and He lets them use
it. If an angel chooses actions that cause him to Fall from grace, He cries but
He lets the angel make that choice."
"And Lucifer... doesn't?" the seraph hazarded a guess.
"Any demon that shows signs of Rising, is destroyed," the incubus confirmed.
"Lest it give the other demons ideas." He sighed. "I don't think the angels
would allow a demon in Heaven anyway, Risen or not."
"But... if I'm in danger of Falling because of our relationship, aren't you in
danger of Rising?"
"Yes. If I hadn't fallen in love with you, I'd have just been congratulated on
bringing about an angel's destruction, but... the fact that I CAN love you
means that I'm very close to Rising. I think."
The angel hugged him tightly, burying his face in the crook of the demon's
neck. "I don't want to be the cause of your destruction," he whispered,
anguished. "I couldn't bear to cause you pain!"
The demon stroked his silver-blond hair reassuringly. "It's too late for
worries," he pointed out inexorably. "You said so yourself. I can't give you
up, so there's nothing we can do about it. And angel..."
The seraph raised his head to see the demon looking at him with such love in
his gaze that it brought tears to the angel's eyes. "I love you," the incubus
whispered, choked with emotion. "Even if I'm destroyed - it will be worth it,
to have been with you."
 
===============================================================================
Omi automatically seated himself at the computer, sitting backwards on his
chair. It was as far away as he could get from Ken, sitting on the couch, and
still be in the same room. It was a reflex, now, after nearly three weeks of
studiously avoiding the ex-soccer player.
Ken had apologized to him the next morning, and Omi had accepted that apology;
but he knew it would be a long time, if ever, before their friendship returned
to some semblance of what it had been before. They were awkward around each
other now, Omi shying away from Ken's touch and Ken not sure what he could do
to make it up to his friend. If Aya and Youji had noticed their teammates' odd
behaviour, they forbore to comment on it.
Birman watched them all impassively, waiting until they were all settled. The
moment the lights went off she popped the tape into the player, and the new
Persia's shadowy form appeared on the screen.
"This is not a mission of your normal type, Weiss," Persia told them in his
smooth baritone. Omi shivered - even after all this time, it was still strange
not to see his uncle's form on the video. At least they weren't using that
horrible computer generation anymore.
"At each of your last several missions, there have been people going missing.
Guards, passers-by; innocent people. The abductions occur at approximately the
same times that you are making your strikes. Now the bodies are turning up."
Several photographs flashed onto the screen, and Omi had to work hard to
suppress his gag reflex. He heard a strangled noise from the vicinity of the
couch that told him the others were having trouble as well. The bodies had been
literally ripped apart; all the organs and large chunks of the limbs were
missing. It looked as though they'd been eaten by some kind of huge, rabid
animal.
"It is possible that someone is attempting to frame you for these deaths,"
Persia pointed out. "Regardless, this horrific loss of innocent lives must be
stopped. White Hunters in the darkness, hunt the futures of the dark beasts!"
The video ended, and Birman stepped forward with several file folders. "Who's
in?" she asked impartially, seemingly unaffected by the gory scenes they'd just
witnessed.
"I'm in," Ken said immediately. Aya nodded to indicate his acceptance, and
Youji sighed.
"Even if there weren't women involved, I'd take this one," he admitted roughly.
"But there are, so there's no question. I'm in."
They all turned to look at Omi, surprised that he hadn't already spoken up.
"Bombay?" Birman prompted him impatiently.
Omi swallowed hard. Something about this mission was deeply upsetting to him,
though he couldn't put a finger on it; the bodies were gruesome, but he'd seen
others just as bad. There was just something in the pit of his stomach that was
screaming at him that he wanted nothing to do with this one.
Steeling himself, he ignored it. People were suffering, and his presence on the
mission might make the difference between life and death for more innocents.
"I'm in," he said, glad that his voice didn't squeak to betray his terror. "How
are we going to go about this?"
Birman shrugged, passing around the files. "The police have already exhausted
all clues afforded by the bodies and crime scenes. They lead nowhere. It's as
if some monstrous beast suddenly appeared, devoured the victims, and then
disappeared into thin air. There's been no DNA traces left on the bodies, and
the bite marks aren't consistent with any animal our scientists can
identify..."
"Wait. Bite marks?" Ken repeated, sounding ill. "You mean something actually
ATE them?"
"It appears that way," Birman replied coolly. "However as I said the bite marks
aren't indicative of any known animal; the obvious conclusion is that someone
is making it LOOK like the victims were eaten. Why, we don't know."
Omi wasn't so sure, looking at the photos that were in his file. The killer
would have had to go to an awful lot of trouble to fake that, and whoever it
was they were working fast. Weiss had never caught a glimpse of them, hadn't
even realized that there were corpses not of their doing.
"Are all the victims from our mission sites?" he asked, forcing his bile back
down to his stomach where it belonged. Birman shook her head.
"No. Most of them, yes, but a few have been found at seemingly unrelated sites.
However research of those sites has shown that they were locations Schwartz was
either guarding or attacking. Additionally, more than the usual number of
bodies has been found at sites where both groups were present."
"Could it be Schwartz that's doing it?" Youji asked. "Farfarello's been even
more nuts than usual - this is a little gory even for him, but..."
"No, when we're fighting them they're all accounted for," Ken pointed out.
"And sometimes bodies were found in two different sites in one night," Omi
added, studying the sheets of printed information. It always struck him as sad
to see so many innocent people's lives reduced to nothing more than black marks
on a piece of paper, just one more statistic. "Times of death indicate that in
certain cases it couldn't possibly have been Schwartz - they were busy at one
site while people were being killed at another."
He followed the thoughts to their logical conclusion. "The only time the
killers strike is when we're on missions," he pointed out. "That means our best
chance of catching them is to hold someone back in a mission, specifically to
watch for them. What else have we got coming up?" he asked Birman, who looked
thoughtful.
"I'll check the files," she told him. "I'll try to find you something
relatively easy, so that it won't affect you to have one or two members holding
back. In the meantime, I suggest you try to figure out what common enemies you
and Schwartz might have."
 
===============================================================================
Omi fidgeted nervously, trying to shake the feeling of eyes trained on his
back. He was perched high in a tree overlooking the target warehouse,
straddling the branch with his back against the trunk. A few feet away he could
just make out Youji's dark form in another tree.
"Who put the ants in your pants, bishounen?" Youji's smooth voice murmured at
him from his earpiece. Despite the fact that they were less than ten feet
apart, he couldn't hear the older man's voice except through the receiver.
He touched the switch that would restrict his transmission to Youji. "You know
how I keep saying that I feel like we're being watched on missions?" he asked,
long practice allowing him to whisper almost silently and still be understood.
"Well, it's stronger than ever tonight. I feel like it's breathing down my
neck, whatever it is!"
"You think this feeling of yours has something to do with our killers?" Youji
wanted to know. Omi shrugged, forgetting that his teammate couldn't see him in
the darkness.
"I think it's too much of a coincidence not to be connected," he replied
nervously. "I started getting the feeling about the same time the first victims
disappeared."
"Right after the Esstet fiasco," Youji pointed out. "You think maybe they're
behind this? They've got good reason to hate Schwartz as much as us, and I
wouldn't put it past them to find or create something freaky enough to eat
people."
Omi shivered. "It would make sense," he admitted. Beneath him the guard passed
by on his regular rounds, completely oblivious to the presence of the two
assassins above him, not to mention the two assassins who had already
penetrated the perimeter.
"Target acquired," Aya's voice sounded over the comm as if on cue. "We're going
in."
"Acknowledged," Omi returned absently. "Be careful, guys. No sign of our
killers yet."
Abruptly the feeling of being watched shifted, as though the observer's
attention had gone elsewhere. At the same moment a horrifying aura of pure evil
washed over him, making him cry out and clutch at the branch for support. There
was a massive presence nearby, and below him to the left he thought he heard a
strangled whimper. "Yo... Youji," he croaked out, hoping his teammate would
hear him since he couldn't gather the strength to raise his hand to his
transmitter.
He felt the tree sway as Youji jumped over to him. "Bombay, what's wrong?"
Youji asked in concern, putting a hand on the boy's arm and feeling him shaking
badly.
"It's... it's here," he whispered, teeth chattering so hard he could barely
speak. In his terror he forgot about using codenames entirely. "Youji, it's
here. It got the guard, I think. I... I felt it..."
"Sit tight, kiddo," Youji replied, and swung down to the ground. He slipped
silently through the trees to where the guard should have been returning on his
rounds. Omi wanted nothing more than to obey him, but morbid curiosity and fear
for his friend drove him off his branch.
He heard Youji's quiet exclamation before he saw them - the playboy was hunched
over a dark form on the ground. Standing, he backed up to where Omi was and
took him by the shoulders, forcibly turning him away from the grisly sight.
"Don't look," he advised wearily. "It's pretty bad. How the hell did it get by
us, and how could it do that so fast, and without a sound?"
Omi was hyperventilating, his eyes darting back and forth around them. Every
shadow beneath every tree was suddenly a potential monster, and he was certain
that whatever the killer was, it wasn't gone yet. "It's still here," he
squeaked, quaking in Youji's arms.
Youji looked around as well. "I don't see anything," he said quietly. "I don't
know what you're picking up on, Bombay, but you seem to be the only one of us
that can see this thing coming."
"We... we have to warn the others," Omi managed. Youji nodded, and released his
shoulders to move a few feet away.
"Balinese to Abyssinian, our killers have struck," he heard the older man say
quietly. He heard the words in a kind of eerie stereo over his receiver as
well. "Bombay felt it coming, but we didn't see it."
"What do you mean, he felt it coming?" Aya demanded, his voice tinny over the
tiny speaker.
"That same feeling of being watched that he keeps getting, only stronger,"
Youji replied, and you could hear his shrug in his voice. "I didn't see or hear
a thing, but we've definitely got one dead guard here. Whatever it is, this
sucker is FAST. It came and went before we knew it was there, and the guard was
practically right beneath us."
"Be careful," Aya cautioned them. "We're on our way out."
The breath froze in Omi's throat as that awful presence suddenly swelled again,
the only warning he had. He threw his arm up to shield his face instinctively,
and that was the only thing that saved his life. Slavering jaws closed over his
forearm instead of his throat, and he screamed with pain and terror.
Glowing red eyes stared balefully down at him, full of hatred and cruelty. He
knew without question that this thing was purely evil, and its sole intention
was to rend him to shreds with its double row of sharp teeth. He screamed again
and struck at it with his free hand, kicking and squirming beneath it as it
clung to him. Its saliva dripped down, burning like acid where it touched his
bare skin.
It vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him panting and crying on
the bare earth, lying in a rapidly spreading pool of his own blood. He clutched
his wounded arm to his chest and frantically tried to stop the bleeding,
praying that it hadn't severed an artery. After a quick glance at his arm, he
changed the prayer to just hoping that he would be able to save the hand.
He felt someone drop to their knees beside him, and suddenly other hands were
holding the wound closed. He sobbed and writhed in agony, nearly jerking his
arm out of the person's grasp before someone else knelt forcibly on his
shoulders. A third set of hands held his legs still, and he glanced up through
his tears to see his teammates surrounding him. Ken was sitting on his
shoulders to keep his arm steady for Youji, while Aya crouched down over his
legs.
"What the hell happened? What was it?" Ken demanded, voice high and tight with
fright.
Youji shook his head, and Omi had never seen the playboy so pale and frightened
looking. "I didn't see it," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "It was right on
top of him, it HAD to be, and I didn't see it. All I could see was him
screaming and hitting at something, and his arm torn to shreds!"
"Demon," he whispered, his voice more than a little hysterical. He knew as he
said the word that it was true. "It was a demon! Oh, gods, it's stalking me.
It's playing with me! It could kill me any time, but it wants me to suffer..."
he was babbling but he couldn't stop, the words pouring from him on a wave of
terror and pain.
"Shh, Omi, it's okay," Ken hushed him, stroking the side of his face gently.
"It's gonna be okay. Just relax..."
He choked on the words as he realized what he was saying, the words too similar
to that horrible night at Villa White. Omi moaned, then shrieked when Youji
shifted and jarred his arm. "My... darts..." he managed to get out, panting and
shaking. "Left side... they're tranquilizers. White bands on the grips, not
black. Knock me out, PLEASE!"
Aya nodded and reached forward to rummage through his jackets, pulling out a
dart and examining it carefully to be sure it was a tranquilizer, and not
loaded with the lethal poison Omi used on his victims. Omi felt a sharp sting
on the side of his neck as Aya leaned forward and jabbed him, and then
everything faded away on a blissful wave of oblivion.
***** Chapter 5 *****
"Angel?"
The seraph looked up from his sundae, curious at the hesitant tone in his
normally brash lover's voice. They were in mortal form, seated in a soda bar
somewhere in North America - he had been amused to discover that the little
demon had a sweet tooth and a craving for cold things. "What is it?"
"What... what is love?"
The angel nearly choked on his spoonful of ice cream, and hastily wiped his
mouth with a napkin. "Where did that come from?" he wondered, still coughing.
The demon gave a little shrug, looking wistful. "I just wondered. The concept
is so foreign to us, I can't even begin to comprehend it. And I've never had
anyone I could ask about it before."
The angel sighed, and thought about it for a moment. "Well, love is different
things to different people. Everyone experiences love in a different way. I
think the best description of it that I've ever heard, is: 'love is when the
other person's happiness is vital to your own.' You are happiest when the
person you love is happy, so you will go out of your way to do things to make
them happy."
The incubus looked thoughtful, sipping on his milkshake and studiously ignoring
the trio of teenage girls in poodle skirts who were sighing at him from across
the bar. Even in mortal form, the angel thought fondly, his lover was
stunningly beautiful.
"I guess that covers things like, friendship and family, right?" the demon
asked, thinking it through. "I've never understood those, either."
The angel was a little stung. "I'd say we're at least friends, wouldn't you?"
he said, trying to keep the hurt from showing in his voice.
He didn't succeed; the incubus gave him an apologetic look. "That doesn't mean
I understand it any better, angel. If anything, I'm more confused now than I
was before I met you."
The seraph had to chuckle at that; he knew exactly how his lover felt. "Did I
manage to answer your question, at least a little?"
The incubus sighed, and rested his chin on his hand. "What... what does it feel
like to be IN love?" he queried wistfully. "I mean, how do you know if you're
in love?"
The seraph blinked at him. "You don't ask the easy ones, do you?" he said
ruefully. "I'll take a shot at it, but keep in mind that I can only give you my
interpretation of it. Being in love is like... it's when you need the other
person, like flowers need the sun. You want to be around them all the time, you
want to make them happy, you want them to like you in return. You ache when
they're not there, or when they're mad at you. You want to do little things for
them all the time, just because you can. You get a little thrill when they
smile at you, when they tell you they love you. And then, of course," he
grinned slyly, "there is the lust aspect of it, but I'm sure I don't need to
lecture you on that."
"Not hardly," the demon replied with a chuckle. He tossed his head to flip his
over-long bangs out of his eyes, and the trio of girls sighed in chorus. The
angel had to fight an urge to tell the girls to back off, this one was his...
the thought was unworthy of him. The incubus saw his struggle in his eyes and
patted his hand. "Now jealousy I understand, at least well enough to use it
against someone," he pointed out. "I just never could figure out what made
people care enough about someone else to BE jealous over them."
They were both silent for a while, the angel mostly ignoring his sundae in
favour of watching his demon lover licking happily at spoonfuls of ice cream
and syrup. The incubus suddenly asked, "You love me, don't you, angel?"
The seraph was startled by the question. "Of course," he replied gently. "I
wouldn't be with you if I didn't. I've told you so before, haven't I?"
The demon kept his eyes glued to the table, tracing patterns in the
condensation on the table with his left hand. "Does it bother you that I've
never said it back?"
"I... sometimes," the angel admitted with a sigh. "But it's not your fault that
you don't love me. It's just not in your nature to love."
"What if... what if I said I thought I was falling in love with you?" the
incubus asked, raising his eyes to meet his lover's nervously. The angel gaped
at him, astonished at the very thought. Everyone knew that demons weren't
capable of love! "Everything you said, about what love feels like - that's how
I feel about you," the demon confessed. "I'm miserable when you're not around.
I want to always be with you, and... and I don't even care if we're having sex
or not!"
That was saying a lot for an incubus, and the angel knew it. Briefly he spared
a thought for the other customers around them, and was grateful that they were
speaking in Angelica instead of English. North America in this time period was
not particularly welcoming to same sex couples, and despite the incubus'
androgynous features they were both unmistakeably male.
"I've never felt anything like this before," the demon continued wretchedly.
"It's driving me crazy. I can't think what else it could be, except... that I'm
in love with you," he finished shyly, blushing.
The seraph closed his eyes briefly, savouring the little thrill that went
through him hearing his lover say those words. "Then I guess all I can say
is... that I love you too," he replied with heartfelt sincerity.
 
===============================================================================
Omi stood before the window, watching the light dusting of snowflakes falling
to coat the streets with a layer of pure white. He held his left arm cradled to
his chest in a posture that had become reflex, cushioning the wounded limb and
supporting it because the muscles in the arm weren't strong enough to hold it
up. After two months the broken bones had finally mended, and the lacerated
skin had become a puckered scar. More little scars dribbled their way down his
neck and shoulder, where the demon's saliva had touched him. He would always
carry the reminders of his encounter with evil, but the doctors had assured him
that he would regain full use of the hand in time.
"Arm bugging you, kid?" Youji asked from behind him, where he was working on an
arrangement at the table. "I guess you'll always know when it's going to rain,
huh?"
Omi nodded absently, eyes tracking a particular snowflake down to the sidewalk.
The pure, fluffy white snow turned dark as it met the dirty slush on the
streets, and the sight sent an odd pang through his heart. "Everything pure
turns dirty in the end," he whispered to himself, shivering.
Warm, heavy wool settled over his shoulders, and he glanced up to see Aya
standing over him with an unusually soft look in his violet eyes. "You need to
take better care of yourself, Omi," the older man said, nodding to indicate the
thin cotton long-sleeved shirt Omi was wearing. Omi shrugged into the sweater
jacket Aya had given him with a tired smile.
"Gomen, Aya-kun," he replied with genuine contrition. "I didn't think it would
get this cold today." He wandered away from the window to sit at the table, not
wanting to look at the suddenly morbid-seeming scenery any longer. He picked up
some of the flowers and started making a simple arrangement, forcing his left
hand to function. The physical therapist had laughingly said that floral
arranging was as good practice for his hand as any, and cleared him for work.
Ken came clattering down the stairs, moving carefully to avoid spilling
anything from the four mugs on the tray he carried. "I made hot cocoa for
everyone," he said cheerfully, making it to the table safely. Everyone reached
eagerly for a mug.
Omi held his for a moment, knowing it would still be too hot to drink and just
savouring the warmth against his chilled hand. Circulation in his left arm was
still poor, and it got cold easily. He smiled his thanks at Ken, grateful that
the strained tension between them had finally begun to ease. They were friends
again, though Omi had never again sought his comfort late at night, no matter
how bad the nightmares of the demon got.
"Did you guys have any luck last night?" he asked, since the store was empty
except for them. Ken shook his head in frustration.
"No. Those disks you gave us just aren't enough to get through the security
they have. We need someone who knows what he's doing to crack the files." It
was their third attempt to take down a baby-snatching ring, and the leads they
needed were locked away in the electronic files of one of the head ring
members. Omi hadn't been out in the field on a mission since he'd been
attacked, but until now the team really hadn't suffered too badly from the
lack.
He bit his lip, and glanced down at his hand. It was curled around the mug, a
feat he wouldn't have been able to manage a month ago. With an effort, he
lifted the mug to his lips with his left hand alone. His arm trembled, but he
succeeded in the attempt, and nodded in satisfaction.
"I think I'm strong enough now to go with you guys again," he declared. "I
wouldn't want to get into any hand to hand fights, but I should be fine for
infiltrating and hacking." The others looked like they wanted to protest, but
no one said anything - they all knew that without his help this mission
probably wouldn't be successful.
"At least there hasn't been any sign of that... THING again," Ken sighed.
"Almost no new bodies since it attacked you, and all of those were at Schwartz
sites, not ours. Maybe it gave up on us?"
Omi shivered, and lowered his gaze. "Or maybe it's just waiting for me to go
out again," he whispered. Youji laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You can't be scared of shadows for the rest of your life, Omittchi," he said,
not unkindly. "We'll be with you - I promise we won't leave you alone for a
second. If it wanted you that badly, it could have gotten you here or at
school, anyway."
Omi nodded, conceding the logic. "I said I'll go," he reminded them. "I'm
just... nervous. I'll be fine, as long as you're with me."
 
===============================================================================
Omi swore as another bullet whizzed past him, and tried to make his path down
the hallway erratic. He wove back and forth, expecting to feel the bite of a
bullet in his flesh at any moment.
The firing behind him paused for a moment, and he thought he heard someone
cursing as they struggled to reload. He took the opportunity to duck into a
side passage, hoping to lose them. He'd been separated from Ken some distance
back, and was on his own now. His darts were gone, and he couldn't use his
crossbow with only one hand.
Pressing himself into a dark alcove, he heard the guards thunder by the side
corridor without even pausing. Grateful for the reprieve, he leaned against the
wall and took deep gulping breaths as quietly as he could.
Ahead of him he saw someone else skid into the corridor, silhouetted against
the brighter light of the hallway. "Siberian?" he called, figuring Ken had
managed to track him.
There was a grunt of surprise from ahead of him, and then Nagi stepped forward
out of the shadows. "What are you doing here?" he asked as Omi blinked at him.
"Mission," Omi replied automatically, his heart racing. This was the first time
he'd seen the Schwartz psychic since before he'd been attacked, and his body
was making it clear that the attraction between them hadn't lessened over the
intervening time. "We're after the baby-snatching ring."
Nagi chuckled softly. "What do you know... we're on the same side for once," he
murmured, joining Omi in his less obvious alcove. There wasn't much space in
the niche, and their chests brushed every time they breathed. Omi felt himself
flushing, and was grateful for the darkness.
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously, fighting to control his breathing. Nagi
shrugged.
"We've been hired by a Yakuza whose infant daughter was taken by the ring. He
wants them destroyed, and he's paying good money for it. Schuldich has been
bitching all week that we're doing your job." Nagi's voice conveyed his
amusement even though he was whispering. "Where have you been? I haven't seen
you in months."
Omi gulped, and cradled his arm to his chest. "I was... injured," he replied
shortly. "I'm still not a hundred percent - I shouldn't even be here, but they
couldn't crack the computers without me."
He could just see the gleam of Nagi's eyes as the other boy looked at him in
concern. "You got separated from them?" he guessed shrewdly. Omi nodded,
knowing he'd feel the motion in the close space. "Well, I'll help you get back
to them, if you promise not to tell Crawford." Nagi was irritated with his
leader, Omi could tell that much.
"Has he been lecturing you about talking to me again?" he asked. "We haven't
even seen each other for months."
"He just started again tonight," Nagi replied. "I guess he saw that I'd run
into you, and couldn't find a way to avoid it."
Omi's reply was cut off by a shout of discovery, as the lights in the hallway
they were in suddenly came up. Both boys instinctively ducked, well-honed
reflexes saving them from the bullets that whined over their heads. Nagi threw
up his arm, and the guards were blown back away from them, sprawling on the
floor in a tangled heap.
"Come on!" he shouted, grabbing Omi's injured arm and taking off down the hall.
Omi bit back a cry of pain and followed.
They darted through the hallways, Nagi using his powers to beat back any guards
that got close to them. Their communications frequencies had been jammed some
time back, so Omi wasn't sure where his teammates were. The advantage of having
a telepath on your side was obvious, as Nagi was easily able to keep in contact
with his group.
Finally the found a door to the outside, and bolted across the open parking lot
towards another building. Halfway across, Omi stopped dead in his tracks,
nearly tripping Nagi with the sudden halt in momentum.
"What..." the younger boy started, then suddenly he shivered and stared wildly
about. "They're back!" he exclaimed, hand tightening on Omi's arm.
Omi glanced at him, surprised. He could feel the presence of the demon around
them - more than one this time, he thought. "You can feel them too?" he blurted
out, astonished and gratified that someone else could sense them.
Nagi gave him a startled look. "Yes. Schu says I've been imagining things,
because he can't sense anything..."
"You're not imagining things," Omi told him, shaking his arm free and holding
it up for Nagi to see. The other boy gasped, horrified.
"What the hell did that?"
"A demon," Omi replied grimly. "It came out of nowhere, attacked me, and then
vanished. It's been following us around to all our missions, and yours too
apparently, eating guards and bystanders."
Nagi abruptly cried out, and grabbed at Omi for support. Random debris
scattered over the pavement around them skittered away, and Omi could feel the
pressure against him. Nagi had lost control of his powers again, and that was
bad news for them.
As if on cue, the air around them shimmered and solidified into several
terrible beings. Two were roughly dog shaped, though their muzzles were more
like a bear's, and had double rows of sharp teeth. Dizzily Omi identified them
as the same type of thing that had attacked him before. Behind them stood three
humanoids, and just glancing at them made his knees go weak with fear. He
averted his gaze to stare at the ground before them, keeping a sharp eye on the
dog creatures.
"Kchdss grk sstrg," one of the larger things growled at them, the words
seemingly without vowels of any kind. Omi thought the language sounded vaguely
familiar, though he wasn't quite able to understand it.
Seeing this, the devil switched languages. "We have found you, little traitor,"
it hissed at them in strangely accented Japanese, its voice rumbling deep
enough that Omi could feel it in his bones. Beside him he could feel Nagi
shaking with fear, and the telekinetic's hand fumbled for his own. He grabbed
it and held on tight, needing the reassurance as well.
"Face your punishment for defying Lucifer," another devil added, and laughed.
It was a horrible sound, like broken glass grating over a raw wound, and both
the mortals cowering before it shuddered.
He barked a sharp command to the Hellhounds, and the beasts surged forward to
attack. Nagi drew a sharp breath and gathered his energy, creating a shield
around them that the dogs couldn't get past. Omi could see how much it was
costing the other assassin to focus his powers through the fit that had taken
him.
The devil who seemed to be the leader hissed in fury. "You cannot defy us
forever," it snapped at them, as the dogs redoubled their attacking frenzy.
"Surrender now, and we will not harm your precious lover."
Omi and Nagi traded a startled glance at that, before Nagi had to refocus his
concentration on his barrier. "I think you've got the wrong people," Omi
stuttered out nervously, unable to believe he was talking back to these things.
"W-we're not lovers!"
The devil just laughed again, and Omi shrieked as the barrier around them
weakened. The Hellhounds were getting closer with each leap against it, forcing
the shield to collapse in on its creator. Nagi was on his knees, biting his lip
as he fought to keep the wall in place.
"Nagi!" Omi heard Schuldich's unmistakeable nasal voice shout from the
building. Pounding feet sounded over the pavement, and several bullets whizzed
overhead to slam into the devils. "Hold on!"
The devils laughed again, clearly unaffected by the gunshots. Schuldich skidded
to a halt a dozen feet from them, glancing wildly around. "Where the hell are
they?" he demanded, and Omi realized that he couldn't see the demons any more
than Youji had been able to.
"Look through my eyes," Nagi gritted out, and his face went blank as Schuldich
took control. Several more shots rang out, targeted dead centre of the devils'
heads, but they were again unconcerned by the attack.
From the other side Omi saw Youji and Ken running up, followed closely by Aya
and Crawford. Farfarello was sauntering in from the direction Schuldich had
come from, his single amber eye fixed on the Hellhounds with fascination.
Somehow Omi wasn't surprised that he was the only other person who could see
the monsters.
"Is it the demon again?" Ken panted, kept from reaching Omi by the barrier Nagi
still held around them. Omi nodded, as Schuldich attempted to go at one of the
Hellhounds with his fists and was stopped by Crawford.
"You can't hurt it, and it will eat you," the American snapped at the furious
German. Omi burst into hysterical giggles at the idea of Schuldich getting
eaten trying to rescue him.
*Not you, brat, I'm doing this for Nagi,*the telepath snarled at him mentally.
One of the Hellhounds gave up on the barrier and started pacing towards the
unprotected humans. "Ken! Youji! It's coming up behind you!" he shouted a
frantic warning to his teammates.
Youji spun and pulled his wire automatically, but he had nothing to target. Omi
saw Ken reach into his shirt and grab something, then the dark-haired boy
closed his eyes and his lips started to move. Omi could just hear his words
over the snarling of the Hellhounds and the laughter of the devils, a rhythmic
litany of English...
"Hail Mary, holy mother of Christ..."
Omi winced as the Hellhound howled eerily, the sound grating on his nerves. The
demon snarled and backed away a pace, and he thought he saw the devils'
confidence slipping. "It's working, Ken!" he cried encouragement to his friend.
Schuldich gave him an incredulous look, then shrugged and looked resigned. *I
can't believe I'm doing this,* Omi heard faintly, as his voice joined Ken's in
the prayers. *Hell, I can't believe I remember these!*
Farfarello cried out in outrage and lunged for his teammate, but was caught by
Crawford before he could plunge his blade into the German's back. The Irishman
struggled wildly, and Aya and Youji leapt to help restrain him. Crawford's
voice joined the other two on the next prayer, then they all spoke along as
Schuldich fed them the words.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
Omi mouthed the words along with the others, feeling pain singing along his
nerves as the second Hellhound joined the first in its wailing. The devils were
snarling now, their laughter gone, as they were forced back slowly.
Finally the leader called the now-whimpering Hellhounds back to his side. "You
may have driven us away this time," he snarled at the two boys in the center of
the fracas, "but you have not won. There is nowhere in this world that you can
hide!"
With a final burst of hideous laughter, the horrific things faded from sight.
The aura of evil faded with them, until Omi knew they were gone completely. He
fell to his knees as well, huddled against Nagi and shivering. The others
dropped out of the prayer one by one, with Schuldich and Ken the last to stop.
Both men automatically crossed themselves on the final amen, then stared at one
another. Farfarello subsided into a growling sulk, and Youji and Aya released
him reluctantly.
"Maybe next time you'll listen to my warnings," Crawford barked at Nagi. His
eyes were wide, and Omi sensed he wasn't seeing the scene before him, but
something else.
Schuldich was backing slowly away from all of them, swearing in German and
holding his head with the hand that didn't have the gun. The muzzle was aimed
at the ground, and he looked like he might be sick. *Schist... Brad, I'm losing
it again,* Omi heard in his mind. *I can't shut them out - I've gotta get away
before they overwhelm me!*
"Go," Crawford ordered curtly, his own gun now trained unfailingly on Ken's
heart. "Any of you Weiss move, and I kill him. Farfarello, guard Schuldich on
the way out - DON'T touch him! Nagi..."
Nagi wobbled to his feet, and Omi had the feeling that if he hadn't just
exhausted his power keeping the Hellhounds away, it would be out of control
again. He staggered to his leader's side, and Crawford caught him with his free
hand without looking. They backed away slowly, only turning to run when they
were safely out of range of Weiss' short-range weapons.
Omi remained kneeling on the ground, still panting with terror. Youji crouched
next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, bishounen?" he asked in
concern.
Omi gulped and nodded, and accepted a hand up. He was shivering uncontrollably,
barely able to think coherently. He certainly wasn't able to speak.
"What happened?" Ken asked him, taking his other arm and slinging it over his
shoulder. Between them, he and Youji got him started walking towards where
their vehicle was hidden, with Aya ranging out ahead as a scout. "I still
couldn't see anything..."
"Th-th-the d-demons," Omi got out between his chattering teeth, feeling frozen
in the core of his being. "M-more of them. Th-they're after N-Nagi and me! Th-
they said s-something ab-bout being a t-traitor..."
Just talking about it was making him shake harder, and Youji made a soothing
sound. "It's okay, Omi, you're safe now. They're gone, we're here, we'll
protect you."
Omi shook his head wildly. "They'll kill you too!" he insisted hysterically.
"You can't stop them - Schuldich shot them a dozen times, and they didn't even
blink! We only drove them away because everyone was praying - if we'd had fewer
people, or there were more of them, we wouldn't have been able to stop them!
They'll tear you into little tiny pieces and make me watch..." He was sobbing
so badly now that he didn't think they could even understand him, but his tone
got the message across.
"Calm down, Omi," Ken murmured in his ear. "They're gone, we're all safe for at
least a while. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't calm down."
Omi tried to obey, but he couldn't get his limbs to stop shaking with fear. His
wild sobs refused to lessen, doubling in strength every time he thought of one
of his friends suffering because of him. Abruptly he squirmed out of Ken and
Youji's grasp, bolting away from them and ignoring their surprised shouts.
Terror gave his feet wings, and he outdistanced them despite their longer legs.
He quickly lost them in the maze of warehouses in the area, and leaned against
a wall, panting for air.
At least they'll be safe, he told himself, glancing wildly at every shadow in
the alley. He felt very vulnerable, and very alone, but it was worth it to know
that his friends were safe.
***** Chapter 6 *****
The incubus sauntered out onto the balcony of the high-rise apartment,
stretching lazily and admiring the moon. Behind him on the satin-draped bed, a
stunningly beautiful young woman lay as if sleeping peacefully. Only a close
look would reveal the stillness of her chest, the lack of a pulse trembling the
delicate skin of her throat.
He chuckled and sighed, sated. This victim had been especially passionate, a
bundle of repressed sexual energy that was like ambrosia to his special senses.
Despite her physical beauty, she had been cursed with a terrible stutter, and
so had never been appreciated by the males of her species.
"Their loss," he murmured, licking his lips. Abruptly he became aware of the
presence of another celestial nearby, watching him. A moment's thought gave him
the location - the roof of the building across from him. Shedding his mortal
form, he spread his wings and jumped off the balcony, gliding through the air
to dive down on the lower roof.
He landed perfectly, wings flipping neatly back to rest against his spine.
Glancing around, he saw the watcher. "You again!"
The angel was leaning against the wall of the stairwell, regarding him with a
confused expression on his face. His silver-blond hair fluttered about him in
the night breeze, and his piercing blue eyes fairly glowed in the moonlight.
"Why do you keep following me?" the demon demanded of him in irritation.
"I don't know," the seraph replied, sounding puzzled. "I can't stop thinking
about you, and I want to know why."
The incubus rolled his eyes. "Maybe you're losing your immunity," he suggested
snidely. "Sounds like the kind of obsession I engender in mortals to me. Been
in danger of Falling lately?"
The angel shook his head, not responding to the taunts. He shifted, and his
wings flared slightly, gleaming with reflected starlight. They had first
encountered each other in one of the minor skirmishes always happening between
Heaven and Hell, several years previously. Against a seraph an incubus had no
chance, and they'd both known it. Amazingly, the seraph had let him live, on
the condition that he swore not to participate in any battles against the Hosts
for at least a century. He'd made him swear it on his immortal spirit, too - an
oath not even a demon could break with impunity.
Since then, every so often the demon would become aware of a watcher, and turn
to find the seraph gazing at him thoughtfully from a distance. This was the
first time they'd spoken since the battle, and the incubus was determined to
get some answers.
"I haven't broken my word," he muttered sourly. "And I won't! I have no desire
to be forsworn, not on that oath." He shivered - oathbreakers of that magnitude
were given Verrier, the devil of disobedience, for punishment. "So stop
following me around!"
"That's not why I'm doing it," the angel told him. "I told you, I can't stop
thinking about you. It's driving me crazy."
"You're driving me crazy," the demon retorted. "Go away and leave me alone!" He
turned to leave, and was astonished to feel his arm grabbed.
"Wait!" the angel cried, and they both stared at each other. Slowly the demon
looked down at the hand on his bare arm, then back up at the angel. Everyone
knew that it was physically painful for a demon and an angel to touch - their
opposite natures made them repulsive to one another.
He felt no pain, only the usual shiver of pleasure that he got from physical
contact. "Why... why doesn't it hurt?" he asked the angel in confusion.
"I don't know," the seraph said again, hesitantly reaching out with his other
hand to capture the demon's free hand. They stood there awkwardly, staring into
each other's eyes dazedly. "It sounds insane, but... I think I'm falling in
love with you," the angel whispered in an anguished voice.
The demon's eyes widened to comical proportions. "You're Falling for something,
but it's not love!" he told him seriously. "Love is a gift from God," and he
spat the word as if it were an epithet, "and everyone knows demons can't love,
so why would He make you fall in love with ME?"
"I don't know," the seraph repeated, unable to find any other answer. "In all
my centuries I've loved many souls, mortal and angel, but never like this. It's
like a burn in my veins - I can't work, can't rest, can't do anything but think
of you! You're a demon of lust, tell me how do I get rid of it?"
The demon chuckled at the thought that he was giving sex advice to an angel.
"You either ignore it, or get it out of your system," he told him bluntly. "I
didn't think angels suffered from lust - I thought your love was always pure
and above such base matters."
The angel rolled his eyes. "Baby angels have to come from somewhere, don't
they?" he replied with asperity. "We may not be as vulgar about it as you or
the mortals, but it happens." He sighed, and tightened his hands on the
incubus' fingers. The demon drew in a breath at the thrill the contact gave
him, feeling his powers gathering to swirl around him. A mortal would have been
panting at his feet by now, driven to madness from the lust induced by the
pheromones he was emitting; but of course the angel was immune.
"So, what are you going to do?" he asked breathlessly, curious. Surely the
angel wouldn't actually choose to sleep with him!
"Wh-what do you mean by, 'get it out of your system'?" the angel queried
hesitantly, surprising the demon yet again.
He shrugged. "Most of the time having sex with the object of your fascination
will take the glamour off the idea," he said indifferently. "At least, it does
for demons and mortals. I imagine it would work the same way for an angel. But,
angel..." he smiled and purred seductively. "Be warned. I'm very, very good at
what I do. Not many people want to leave when I'm through with them."
The angel sighed, seeming defeated. "I must be crazy," he muttered to himself,
not so quietly that the incubus couldn't hear him. The little demon was
astonished to find himself drawn into the taller seraph's arms, wrapped about
with the great white wings. It was like being buried in a nest of feathers,
warm and spicy smelling. "Show me what I have to do, so I can get back to my
life again!" the angel pleaded desperately.
The incubus licked his lips, and considered it. Technically, sleeping with an
angel wasn't against the rules - it wasn't a rule that had needed to be made,
frankly. Of course association with an angel was forbidden... unless it led to
the angel Falling... which this almost certainly would. He gave an evil little
chuckle, and started stroking his hands up the angel's back, burying his
fingers in the mound of feathers at the base of his wings. He smiled as the
angel moaned at the contact, and leaned up to kiss him hungrily.
"Just follow my lead, angel," he whispered as he pulled away, already feeling
the lust pounding through his system. "I'll show you a whole new way to get to
Heaven."
 
===============================================================================
Omi heard the knock on the door, but he decided not to answer it. If his
friends had managed to find him, he didn't want them to know he was in here -
and if it was staff or management, he just plain didn't care. He'd spent the
entire night just running, starting at shadows and scaring himself silly every
time a dog barked or person cried out. Finally around eight this morning, he
staggered up to a run down hotel and checked himself in, grateful for Weiss'
policy of carrying some cash with them whenever they went on a mission in case
they had to hole up just as he was doing now.
He heard the knock again, and dragged his head off the pillow long enough to
look at the clock. Noon. He'd had a little less than four hours sleep, and he
still didn't want to talk to whoever was out there. He let his head flop down
again, pulling the blanket up over his ears and hoping they'd take the hint.
The next thing he heard was an odd little click, and the door swung open.
Irritated and tired enough that he wasn't planning to be polite to whatever
staff member had disturbed him, he sat up with a glare.
Nagi stared back at him impassively, looking cool and fresh in his trademark
grey uniform. "Schu told me you'd be here," he said evenly.
Omi yawned, and sighed. He couldn't run - he had nowhere to go, and even if he
managed to get by Nagi, he'd stand out like a sore thumb dressed in nothing but
a t-shirt and boxers. "Why?" was all he asked, tiredly.
Nagi moved forward and let the door fall shut behind him. "Whatever those
things are, they're after the two of us," he said seriously. "Crawford keeps
insisting that I'll be fine as long as I'm not hanging around you, but I'm not
sure I believe him."
Omi blinked at him. "Wouldn't he know?" he asked, curious. Nagi shrugged.
"Schuldich says Brad is starting to lose it. Losing his visions, then getting
hit with dozens of them all at once..." he trailed off and sighed. "It's
starting to affect all of us," he admitted, sinking down to sit at the foot of
the bed. "Schu's going mental, trying to keep himself in one piece with
everyone's mind in a ten mile radius pounding down on him. Crawford doesn't
know whether he's operating in the present or the future half the time, and I'm
wearing myself to a splinter trying to keep from blowing the apartment up."
The telekinetic did indeed look exhausted, even worse than Omi felt. He slid
over to make room on the double bed, and Nagi looked at him in surprise. He
shrugged and patted the spot beside him, and the younger boy crawled gratefully
under the covers to lie beside him. "What's happening to you guys, anyway?" Omi
asked, unable to resist.
Nagi shrugged again. "It has something to do with the failed summoning, that's
all I know. Crawford said something about gates being opened that weren't
properly closed, that are messing with all sorts of different stuff, including
psychic abilities. Half the time it's like we're normal people, and the other
half we're out of control. I'm lucky - at least I don't have anything affecting
my mind, just my body."
Omi thought about what it would be like to be a powerful telepath with no
control over what he heard, and shivered. "That still doesn't explain what
you're doing here," he pointed out.
Nagi was silent for a moment, picking at a loose thread on the plain cotton
sheets. "I don't want them to go after Crawford and Schuldich," he finally
admitted. "They're the closest thing I've ever had to a family. They'll do
something stupid to try to protect me, and get themselves killed."
Omi gave him a searching look. "It's weird to think of somebody caring about
them that way," he admitted.
Nagi gave a half-smile. "We're a dysfunctional family, but we're still a
family," he replied fondly. "There are days when I could happily kill them
both, but... they saved me, took me out of the gutter and trained me to use my
powers so I wouldn't kill myself with them. Sure, they did it because I'd be
useful to them - but in their own way, they both care about me too. We're all
that we have in the world."
They were silent for a while, as Omi thought that over. It was exactly how he
felt about Weiss, but it was strange to think that the relationships in
Schwartz were as close as those in his own team. "Why did you come to me,
though? You could have gone anywhere to get away from them."
"Because they're after you, too. It doesn't make sense to give them two easy
targets, when we could be watching each other's backs. And... because I was
worried about you," Nagi admitted shyly. He reached out and caught the hand
that Omi had lying between them on the sheets, and twined his fingers around
it. Omi returned the grasp, feeling a sort of glowing warmth in the pit of his
stomach.
"Nagi, I..."
"Omi, I..."
They spoke at the same moment, almost on the same breath. Then they giggled,
the sound more a release of tension than anything else, until they were shaking
the bed they were laughing so hard. They collapsed into each other's arms as
the last of the spasms faded away, holding each other tightly.
Omi revelled in the feel of the other boy against him, the clean soapy scent of
him in his nose. He could hear Nagi's heart beating, see his pulse in his
throat from where he had his head on his shoulder. It was comforting, soothing,
and more than a little arousing.
He'd heard about the reaction people sometimes had to a near-death experience -
the biological urge to reconfirm life in the most basic way possible. He'd even
felt a stirring of it, once or twice after a particularly gruelling mission
when he would have given anything to be able to just jump one of his teammates
and screw the hell out of him. Now, here, it seemed perfectly natural for him
to press his mouth to that pulse, tasting the soft skin beneath his lips and
making the other boy gasp.
"Omi..." Nagi's voice was soft and full of wonder as he stroked the older boy's
head. "I... I think I'm falling in love with you," he confided in a whisper.
"You make me feel like... like I'm worth something. Like I could take on the
whole world and win. Like... like I don't have to be so angry anymore."
"Oh, Nagi..." Omi breathed over his skin, making him shiver. "I've never felt
anything like this before in my life. I want... I want to share everything with
you, always. I think I love you too."
They kissed shyly, hesitantly. It had none of the driving passion that their
first kiss had contained, but was slow and gentle and soft, full of affection.
Their twined hands separated, arms wrapping around each other in a loving
embrace.
"I... I'm not a virgin," Nagi confessed, blushing and looking away as they drew
apart for air. "Not anywhere near it. I lived on the streets until I was
twelve, and..."
"Shh," Omi soothed him, placing gentle fingers over his lips. "I know. You
think I don't realize what would happen to someone as pretty as you, living on
the streets?"
Nagi blinked at him. "You... you're not disgusted?"
Omi shook his head firmly. "No. Absolutely not. It's not your fault, you had no
choice. It doesn't make you dirty, or a slut, or anything else like that.
That's just what they tell you, to beat you down so that you don't fight them
harder." He ran his fingers through Nagi's soft dark hair, delighting in the
texture. "I don't care about what you did in your past, only what you're doing
now."
"What about what I'm doing now, in Schwartz?" Nagi wanted to know, returning
the gesture. Omi practically purred at the feeling of his thin fingers against
his scalp.
"I won't say that I'm happy that we're enemies," Omi admitted breathlessly. "I
still don't like what you do. But I'm willing to try to work around it... koi,"
he added shyly.
Nagi kissed him again, a stronger kiss this time. There was no mistaking the
intent behind it, and Omi reciprocated happily. Their lips parted and tongues
tangled, and they edged closer together on the bed.
Omi spared a thought for the last time he'd been in this position, afraid that
it might happen again. He couldn't stand to disappoint Nagi like that, didn't
want to lead him on and then get cold feet on him. But there was none of the
hesitation that had been present with Ken, none of the reservations that
created a tight little spot in his chest. It felt... perfect, like something
that he'd been missing had returned to him, making him whole.
They spent several long minutes just kissing passionately, running their hands
through each other's hair and drinking in each other's presence. Omi suddenly
felt underdressed, and decided to fix the problem by coaxing Nagi out of some
of his clothing.
It didn't take much coaxing - when his fingers fumbled at the unfamiliar clasps
of the tunic, Nagi reached down to help him. Under the tunic was a plain cotton
t-shirt - that also came off, Nagi lifting his shoulders and letting go of Omi
just long enough to get it off him. They stopped there for the moment, content
to explore what they had available to them.
Omi traced his fingers lightly across Nagi's pale chest, marvelling at how thin
his lover was. "You need to eat more," he said absently, and shivered as one of
Nagi's own questing fingers found his nipple.
Nagi snorted. "Crawford already stuffs me to bursting, don't you start," he
complained mildly. "I was malnourished as a child, and my powers use up a lot
of energy; I'm never going to be very big." He started to tug Omi's t-shirt up,
and Omi resisted the movement for a moment. Nagi looked at him, surprised.
"What's wrong?"
Omi flushed, embarrassed. "I... when the Hellhound attacked me, it did a lot of
damage..."
Nagi gave him an understanding look, and slowly peeled the shirt off him. Even
he couldn't keep a completely straight face at the sight of the acid-like
scars, but he traced them with a gentle finger, making Omi shiver. "They're not
so bad," Nagi whispered, smiling encouragingly at him. "The fact that you
managed to live through an attack by one of those things is amazing. Don't ever
hide because of these."
Omi blushed harder, and kissed him impulsively. That restored the mood, and
they went back to exploring each other happily. He bent his head to lick and
nibble along Nagi's collarbone, and found that he loved the way the younger boy
moaned beneath him. Experimentally he wet one small pink nipple with his tongue
and then blew across it; Nagi squirmed and gasped and ran his hands down Omi's
back.
He arched into the touch, tingles of electricity skittering along his skin
wherever Nagi touched him. He was subconsciously aware of a feeling of deja vu,
and somehow he knew exactly where to touch to evoke the best response. Nagi
retaliated in kind, seeking and seeming to find every hot spot on Omi's body.
Their embrace grew more frantic, bodies responding to the stimulus in a
predictable teenage fashion. Nagi stroked his hands down Omi's sides to his
hips, and glanced up for permission. Omi nodded breathlessly, his own fingers
busy at the fastening of Nagi's pants.
They stripped quickly, anxious to be completely naked against one another. The
moment they met skin to skin was marked by another jolt of that strange power
that had first drawn them together all those months ago. They kissed
passionately, engaging in a little impromptu contest to see who could make the
other moan loudest.
Finally Nagi drew away a little, tossing sweat-soaked bangs out of his dark
blue eyes. "Take me," he begged, breathless with desire. "Omi, please, I need
you in me. Take me!"
"Demo, we don't have anything..." Omi hesitated, not wanting to hurt his
beautiful little lover. Nagi shook his head.
"I don't care. Just stretch me first, it won't hurt much. Please!"
If there was anyone on earth who could ignore such a plea, it certainly wasn't
Omi. He held two of his fingers before Nagi's lips, and the younger boy sucked
them in eagerly. When they were well moistened, Omi drew them downwards,
leaving a little glistening trail of wetness on Nagi's chest. He teased gently
at the tip of the telekinetic's erection, picking up more moisture from the
pearly little drops there, before dipping down further.
His questing finger found the tight little ring of muscle, circling gently.
Nagi made a frustrated noise and thrust his hips up, seeking to impale himself.
Omi obliged, slipping his finger inside and finding that as long as he went
slowly, it wasn't so difficult after all.
Nagi certainly showed no signs of being in pain; he was squirming about on the
bed, but only in an effort to get Omi's finger deeper into him. "More," he
pleaded, and Omi carefully inserted a second finger.
Now Nagi did wince, but only momentarily. "If you stop, I swear I'll throw you
through the wall," he threatened when it looked like Omi might pull back in
concern. Chuckling, the older boy gently moved his fingers around, scissoring
them to stretch the tight opening.
The third finger was much harder, and Nagi couldn't suppress his cry of pain
entirely. Omi decided that the best solution would be to distract his lover; he
leaned down and gently drew Nagi's length into his mouth, still working his
fingers back and forth slowly.
His Popsicle obsession finally paid off; he licked and sucked and nibbled like
a pro. Nagi was crying out, thrusting his hips up until Omi had to lay his bad
arm over the boy's waist and hold him down. By the time his fingers were moving
in and out easily, Omi found that he didn't want to stop, so entrancing were
Nagi's cries.
Finally he lifted his head, when Nagi's choked exclamations told him the
younger assassin was getting close to the edge. Grinning wickedly, he licked
his lips and laughed when Nagi cursed him for stopping.
"I think I just found something I like having in my mouth even more than
Popsicles," he whispered naughtily in his lover's ear. Nagi shivered, and
arched against him.
Omi guided himself in with his good hand, before bracing himself and pressing
forward. Nagi cried out hoarsely at the invasion, begging him helplessly not to
stop. Omi had no intention of it; it felt much too good to stop, so tight and
hot around him.
Their pelvises met, Omi in as far as he could go, and they lay there for a
moment, panting. Omi wanted to give his lover a chance to adjust, and give
himself a chance to collect the shreds of his self-control. He didn't want this
to be over too soon!
At last he started moving, setting up a slow rhythm that quickly drove them
both wild. Nagi was clawing at his back, trying to make him go faster, and Omi
just bared his teeth in a feral grin.
"Not... yet..." he gasped, loving the look of frustrated bliss on Nagi's face.
He sped the pace just a little, just enough that they could feel it.
"More..." Nagi moaned, rocking his hips up to meet each thrust. "Omi, more..."
Omi was in Heaven, but his bad arm was trembling and threatening to give out on
him. "Ugh... I can't... hold myself up..." he panted, and collapsed down onto
Nagi's chest. From that position it was much harder to thrust, and the smaller
boy whined in frustration.
Gathering his lover into his arms, Omi rolled until Nagi was on top. They both
cried out as Nagi sat up, the new position driving him even further into the
boy's body. Nagi began to rock back and forth, with Omi steadying him with
hands on his hips and thrusting up to meet him.
Omi looked up at the beautiful creature riding him, and couldn't believe this
was truly happening to him. His muscles tensed, and he could feel the end
coming; not wanting to leave Nagi adrift, he freed his good hand to clasp
gently around his straining erection. That was all it took - Nagi shouted once
and exploded, jets of sticky white rapidly coating his shaft and Omi's hand.
His inner muscles clamped down hard, tightening his passage even further. Omi
managed two more short thrusts before he was lost as well, his seed shooting up
to fill his lover to overflowing.
Nagi collapsed down onto him, and they both felt the shock of that strange
electricity once more. This time it swept over them so forcefully that they
nearly blacked out, and Omi gasped for air. He felt Nagi clutching at him
frantically, trying to keep hold of him in the whirlwind of sensation that was
threatening to tear them to pieces. The last thing he saw before the darkness
claimed him was a swirl of startlingly white feathers sweeping past his vision.
***** Chapter 7 *****
The incubus opened his eyes slowly, uncertain as to his surroundings. His head
was pounding with the worst headache he'd ever had in his life, and his body
felt like it didn't quite fit right. He was lying on cheap, rough cotton
sheets, and even in his misery the hedonist in him had to take a moment to
complain about the feel of them against his skin. Where were the silks, satins
and velvets that lined his lair?
Someone shifted against him, and he became aware of the limp body of his angel
lover sprawled out over him. Forcing his eyes open the rest of the way, he
glanced down and was shocked to see a small mortal with short dark hair instead
of the tall, beautiful silver-haired seraph he was expecting.
"N-Nagi?" he dredged up from somewhere in his mind, his thoughts moving
sluggishly and memories returning in a flow of molasses. "Nagi, are you okay?"
His own voice was all wrong, too high and thin, nothing like his usual rich,
sensual tones. Yet it seemed familiar as well, and he struggled to remember...
"Omi?" The boy lying on top of him lifted his head and opened his eyes to peer
down at him. "Oh, fuck, I hurt..."
Then he clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide in surprise. "D-did I
just swear?" he asked breathlessly, lifting his hand and staring at it as
though it were somehow at fault.
He couldn't help giggling, then laughing outright when the boy turned accusing
blue eyes on him. "Oh... oh angel, love, I do believe the Almighty has a sense
of humour after all," he chuckled, as the full memories of the last seven years
returned to him. "Making ME the good guy..."
Nagi moaned and buried his face ruefully in Omi neck. "I... I can't believe I
did all those things," he replied in a shocked tone of voice. "I hurt so many
people! And yet..." he frowned, raising his head a little to stare into Omi's
eyes. "There's a part of me that is still angry at the world, that still wants
to lash out at everyone around me."
Omi nodded, sighing. "Believe it or not, I think I've developed a real
conscience," he told his lover. "I still have this urge to run out and help
people! It's disturbing."
Nagi giggled, and hugged him tightly. "Oh God, love, we did it! We found each
other, we're saved..."
"You realize what this means, don't you?" Omi asked him seriously. When Nagi
looked at him in confusion, he elaborated, "God said... hey! I said His name
and it didn't hurt!" He blinked in astonishment, then shrugged and continued,
"God said that if we managed to find each other again, WE would be allowed back
into Heaven," he stressed the plural, and saw Nagi's eyes widen in
comprehension.
"You've Risen, haven't you?" he breathed out, and Omi nodded hesitantly.
"I... I think so. It would explain why I can say His name." They were silent
for a moment, digesting that. "We have to tell the others," Omi finally sighed,
caressing his back lightly. "I... I think I need to apologize to Ken-kun."
"Oh?" Nagi blinked at him curiously. "Why is that?"
Omi shrugged uncomfortably. "A few months ago, he... he almost raped me. I know
he's never forgiven himself for it. I think I must have gotten some of my
powers back, that day we touched. God knows I was horny enough all the time..."
he smiled ruefully at the problems a sex demon's libido could pose for an
innocent teenager. "I must have entranced him without meaning to. I have to
tell him, so he can stop hating himself."
Nagi nodded slowly. "The seven years aren't up yet, either," he pointed out.
"We still have to live as mortals until... when?"
"Uh... the first thing I can remember is waking up in Kritiker," Omi replied.
"That was... two weeks after my eleventh birthday." He turned pale, and started
shaking. "Oh, bless it... angel, do you realize how close we came to missing
each other? We only had two months left!"
"Shh," Nagi soothed him, stroking his hair gently. "It doesn't matter, because
we DID find each other." They held each other tightly, trembling for how narrow
the margin had been.
"The devils..." Omi suddenly exclaimed, pulling back. "I recognize them now.
It's Carreau, Verrier and Rosier!" he said, naming the devils of cruelty,
disobedience and lasciviousness. "They must have come through the portal opened
when Esstet started the summoning ceremony," he realized, sickened. "They were
trying to stop us from finding each other."
"Well, they waited too long," Nagi replied firmly. "And now we know how to
fight them. We should warn Schwartz and Weiss, though - I feel responsible for
them, since we got them into this mess."
Omi nodded. "Hai. Who do we go to first?"
They thought it over. "Schwartz," Nagi finally decided. "I want to know if
Crawford sees anything major happening any time soon. Then maybe you should go
back to Weiss on your own..."
Omi shook his head and clung to the angel-turned-mortal. "No. I'm not leaving
your side for the next two months!" Nagi chuckled, but agreed readily.
It didn't take them long to get to the condominium Schwartz was renting. Nagi
punched in the codes for the elevator, and used his key card to let them both
in the front door.
Schuldich was pacing back and forth in the main room, apparently in one of the
phases where he couldn't use his powers because he hadn't 'heard' them coming.
He snapped his head around when he heard Nagi in the hallway, then stared at
Omi. "What the fuck is HE doing here?" he growled, drawing himself up to his
full height and turning and intimidating stare on Omi.
Well, it would have been intimidating to the old Omi. The incubus just blinked
coolly at him, and smirked in return. The unexpected reaction clearly startled
the telepath.
"What is going on?" Crawford demanded, entering the room from a side hallway.
"Nagi, I expressly told you not to..."
"You were wrong," Nagi interrupted him, and Schuldich turned to gape at him
instead of Omi. No one ever corrected Crawford, especially not about his
visions. "You saw that you would lose me if I fell in love with Omi, right?"
Crawford nodded slowly, looking displeased. "I suppose you're going to tell me
that you've managed to convince him to join us, instead?" he asked sourly.
Omi's smirk widened, and he knew his eyes were glittering with mischief. He
opened his mouth to reply, and got an elbow in the gut from his lover. "Ow!" he
exclaimed, frowning back at the younger boy. "What was that for?"
"I know you," the angel told him, rolling his eyes. "You were about to say
something that would get us both in trouble." Omi grinned at him, unrepentant.
"You were right, but you were also wrong," Nagi continued, turning his
attention back to his leader. "You did lose me to him, but you would have lost
me anyway, in two months. And this way, we have a chance of beating the devils
that are chasing us before they destroy us all."
Crawford narrowed his eyes, looking dangerous. "What exactly is that supposed
to mean?"
Omi sighed. "It's kind of a long story," he replied quietly. "And I don't know
if we have time to go into it right now. Carreau must be aware by now that we
found each other, and he won't be pleased."
Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, he turned to see
Farfarello standing in another doorway, regarding them curiously. It was
obvious that the madman was aware that something had changed in the two boys,
but wasn't sure what it was. Omi was a little torn himself; his mortal half
still hated everything Farfarello had done, but his demon side could appreciate
the artistry of the Irishman's attempts to 'make God cry'.
"You've succeeded, you know," he told him softly in English. Farfarello's good
eye widened. "God weeps over you, as he weeps over all his lost children."
Nagi rolled his eyes. "Omi, don't provoke him please," he asked his lover. Omi
shrugged fluidly, then turned to see Schuldich staring intently at him. He
could feel a pressure gliding along the edges of his mind as the telepath tried
to read him.
Smirking, he caught the German's eyes with his own, exerting a little of his
own powers to hold him there. Schuldich was caught in the hypnotic gaze,
entranced by the power of the incubus. Even diluted as it was by this mortal
form, Omi knew that he could easily make the telepath his. Schuldich made a
little choked noise as he tried to pull his mind away, and fell to his knees
staring helplessly at Omi's eyes.
Carefully, knowing he was seven years out of practice and not wanting to damage
the man, Omi let his mind reach out and gently caress the German's. Schuldich
shuddered, completely unaware of anything except Omi.
"Omi!" Nagi rebuked him sharply, realizing what he was doing. "Let him go!"
Omi pouted, and didn't move his eyes from Schuldich's. "Why?" he asked, voice
husky and deeper than usual. "I'm just paying him back for all the times he
screwed with MY head. Fair's fair, angel. Don't worry, I won't break him."
Crawford strode over to Schuldich's side and was shook the telepath in concern.
He looked up and glared at the two boys. "What are you doing to him?" he
demanded when Schuldich remained unresponsive.
Omi was just debating giving Crawford a first hand demonstration when Nagi
placed a hand over his eyes and forcibly turned his head away. Eye contact
broken, Schuldich was released from the incubus' powers and he collapsed,
gasping.
"What... what the fuck ARE you?" he demanded roughly in German. Omi smiled
sweetly at him.
"Incubus," he replied, and was satisfied to see the telepath's eyes widen. The
older man was shaking, grasping at Crawford's hand on his shoulder like a
lifeline. "Don't worry, I didn't do anything permanent. You'll get over it in
an hour or two... sooner if you get it out of your system." He flicked a glance
at Crawford, who flushed with anger.
"But," he added, his voice hardening, "if you EVER try to mess with my head
again, I will turn you into my permanent sex slave. Understand?"
Schuldich nodded frantically, the high spots of colour in his cheeks making him
look feverish. Nagi reached over and took Omi's hand. "I'd forgotten how
ruthless you can be, koi," he sighed.
"Ye're a demon, then?" Farfarello asked him in fascination. He hadn't moved an
inch while the little drama had unfolded, and his good eye was glittering
madly. Omi nodded, and the Irishman laughed delightedly. "A demon in Weiss. God
weeps for the traitor..."
"Actually, Farf, I don't think God would be too upset about a demon who runs
around saving people," Nagi pointed out, and Farfarello frowned at the thought.
"And what manner o' creature are ye?" he demanded of Nagi. The seraph smiled
mysteriously and shook his head.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he informed them.
Crawford had been watching them both with his eyes unfocused, which Omi now
knew was the sign that he was using his powers. "I can't see you," he
exclaimed, frustrated. "I can't see either of you at all! It's as if you don't
exist - and any events that might be changed by your actions are blocked from
my sight as well!"
"I didn't hear you coming, either," Schuldich muttered resentfully as he
finally managed to get to his feet. Omi was amused to note that the telepath
carefully avoided looking at his face. "And I can't read you now. Every time I
try to touch your mind, it's like... it's like it's so damn weird, I can't get
a grasp on it."
Nagi flinched slightly at the epithet, and Omi felt a twinge of pain as well.
Another sign that he was Risen, or at least on his way to Rising, he reflected
happily. And the fact that Nagi was still reacting to it meant that his angel
hadn't Fallen. "Your mind isn't built to deal with the kind of infinite
concepts that are central to our existence," he told Schuldich with some
humour. "I wouldn't keep trying if I were you - you might manage to grasp it,
and go insane."
Schuldich paled, and glared at Nagi since he still didn't want to look at Omi.
"If you're both so all-fucking-powerful, what the hell are you doing here?" he
demanded crossly.
Nagi was good at keeping his face blank, but his expressive eyes betrayed the
sadness and hurt he felt. "I wanted to warn you," he said shortly, crossing his
thin arms over his chest in a defensive posture. "The devils that are after us
will be perfectly happy to use the three of you as bait. The three of you alone
aren't enough to hold them off, especially since I sincerely doubt," his gaze
swept over them wryly, "that any of you are true believers. Except maybe
Farfie, but I defy you to get him to pray."
He sighed, and hugged himself a little tighter, turning away slightly. "I also
wanted to see if you could see anything coming," he told Crawford tightly.
"And... and to say goodbye, I guess. Our seven years here are up in a little
over two months, and one way or another we'll be gone then."
"We want Weiss and Schwartz to work together," Omi said impatiently. "It's our
fault those things are here in the mortal realm; they came through the gateway
left open by the Esstet ceremony. We need to send them back before they do any
more damage." Knowing that Crawford and Schuldich weren't the altruistic type,
he added, "Closing the gate should also get your powers back to normal. There
won't be anything interfering with the local energy patterns."
Crawford stared into the middle distance, then shook his head, frustrated. "I
can't see it," he complained. "Except..." he paled abruptly. "If we don't help
you, I can't see anything at all," he admitted slowly. "If we do... the future
is confused, but at least it's THERE."
"So we die if we don't help them?" Schuldich concluded. "Fine. Let's get it the
fuck over with, then." He stormed out of the apartment, snagging Farfarello by
the arm as he passed and dragging the Irishman with him. Nagi trailed them out,
and if he'd had his wings Omi knew they'd have been dragging on the ground in
dejection. He stopped Crawford from following them with a hand on his sleeve.
"Crawford," he said, searching for the right words. Mending relationships
wasn't something he was really very good at. "You and Schuldich are the only
family he's ever had," he told him softly. "Neither of us are going to be able
to shake off seven years as a mortal easily - we've both been changed a lot by
the experience. He does love you, though he may never admit it to you, and it
hurts him to see you upset with him."
Crawford gave him a sharp look, apparently unafraid to meet his eyes. "Why do
you care?"
Omi shrugged helplessly. "I love him. He turned my life upside down and may yet
get me destroyed, but I love him."
The American studied him intently. "What is he, out of curiosity?"
Omi grinned wickedly at him. "A seraph," he told him brightly, and laughed at
his astonished look. "I still think Gabriel must have put us in the wrong
bodies. Imagine, an incubus vigilante and a seraph assassin! Either that, or
God has a hell of a sense of humour..."
 
===============================================================================
They approached Weiss a little more cautiously. Omi was highly reluctant to
leave Nagi's side, but he had to admit that he'd probably get a better
reception from his teammates if he weren't trailing all of Schwartz behind him.
The snow was still falling gently, and it had coated the slush enough that it
was still white after it hit the ground. Omi smiled at it as he moved to enter
the flower shop, impulsively catching a flake on his tongue.
He paused before the door, and took a moment to sink himself deeper into his
Omi persona. There was no point in worrying the others by acting too out of
character.
The bell rang at his entrance, and Ken turned to face him. "Irrasha... OMI!" he
dropped the flower basket he'd been carrying, heedless of the dirt that spilled
everywhere, and raced to catch his friend up in a tight hug. "You're okay!
Thank God... where the hell have you been?"
Omi sighed. "It's a long story," he said for the second time that day, "and I'd
rather only tell it once more. Where are the others?"
"Upstairs," Ken told him. "Half of Kritiker is out looking for you! Birman
didn't believe us when we told her what had happened... hell, I still don't
believe it, and I was there!"
Omi twitched as he swore again, and sighed. "I don't know what made you think
of praying, but it was about the only thing that could have saved us," he told
his friend. Ken blushed slightly.
"Ah... I was raised Catholic, you know? I figured it sure couldn't hurt..." He
shrugged. "C'mon, let's get the others."
"Wait!" Omi stopped him before he could reach the stairs. "Ken-kun... I need to
talk to you first. About... what happened at Villa White..."
Ken flushed, and dropped his gaze to the ground. "God, Omi, I can never
apologize enough for that... I honestly don't know what came over me!"
"I do," Omi replied gently, and he looked up, surprised. "It's part of the
explanation I have to give you. But it really, truly wasn't your fault, Ken-
kun. If anything, I'm the one who almost raped you, even if I didn't know it at
the time."
Ken blinked, confused at the idea. Omi patted his arm. "Just trust me on this
one for now - you'll understand when I tell everyone the whole story. C'mon."
He trotted up the stairs with Ken hot on his heels, and burst through the door
into the main room. Youji was lounging on the couch with a half-smoked
cigarette in one hand, and without thinking Omi scolded him. "Youji-kun! Not in
the house!"
The playboy jumped to his feet, wide-eyed. "Omi! You rotten little bastard,
where the hell have you been? We've been worried sick about you!"
"Gomen, okaa-san," Omi teased him in return. "Where's Aya-kun? Like I told Ken-
kun, I only want to explain this once..."
"I'm here," Aya's deep voice came from the hallway. Omi glanced over to see him
leaning against the wall, watching the scene with cold violet eyes. He was
pissed off, and Omi didn't blame him.
He drew a deep breath. "First off, I want to apologize for running off like
that last night," he began contritely. "I wasn't thinking straight - all I
could think was to get away so they wouldn't hurt you trying to get to me." He
sighed. "Nagi apparently had the same idea - we ended up running into each
other. He and the rest of Schwartz have agreed to work with us to get rid of
these things - none of us are safe until they're back where they belong."
"Schwartz agreed to work with US?" Ken blurted out, incredulous. Omi shrugged.
"The three of them alone aren't enough to hold off the devils with prayer -
especially not if they're trying to restrain Farfarello at the time."
"Why are these things after us, anyway?" Youji wanted to know.
"Not 'us'," Omi corrected him. "Nagi and me. You guys are just... bait, and a
convenient way to torture us."
"What's so special about Nagi and you?" Ken asked, confused. "The only things
you even have in common are being assassins and being hackers..."
"And being reincarnated celestials," Omi finished for him with a wry twist to
his lips. "We were sent to live as mortals for seven years, as a punishment.
The seven years are almost up - and Lucifer will do anything to prevent us from
coming back."
He counted the seconds as the shocked silence stretched on, wondering how long
it would take one of them to react...
"Are you saying you're both ANGELS?" Youji finally asked in disbelief. "Omi,
that's crazy..."
"No crazier than being attacked by demons and devils," he pointed out. "We
didn't know - part of the punishment was that our memories were taken from us
as well. We only got them back when we... fell in love again," he admitted,
feeling absurdly shy. It was an odd feeling for him - shyness was decidedly not
in a sex demon's nature.
"Anyway, we've got a limited amount of time before Carreau comes after us
again," Omi concluded. "I, personally, would prefer to face him on our terms,
not his - and that means finding Holy ground. They can't enter it, so we'll be
safe enough there until we can figure out a plan. Schwartz is already waiting
for us at the Catholic church nearby."
"They brought Farfarello to a Catholic church?" Ken repeated, amazed. "Is that
a good idea?"
Omi grimaced. "Well, he's restrained, and Crawford says he doesn't see anything
nasty happening. Just in case, Schuldich 'convinced' the nuns and priests to
have a sudden urgent need to visit other churches. Just as well - we wouldn't
want them getting caught in the firing zone when the devils show up again."
Aya straightened up from the wall. "We've already agreed to take this mission,"
he pointed out pragmatically. "If we have to work with Schwartz to do it, then
fine. Let's get it over with."
Omi fought down an urge to giggle at the redhead's unwitting repetition of
Schuldich's earlier words, and nodded. "Thanks, guys," he murmured quietly,
smiling at all of them. "It means a lot to me that you would back me up on
this."
Ken slung an arm over his shoulder. "Hey," he chided him softly. "What else are
friends for?"
***** Chapter 8 *****
Night was blanketing the city as they left the flower shop, Aya giving Ken a
glare for forgetting to close the store when he'd followed Omi upstairs. The
snow was still falling, muffling their footsteps and making everything around
them seem just a little surreal. The church looked abandoned as they approached
it, until the door swung open to reveal Nagi standing haloed by candlelight
from within. Omi had to smile at the appropriateness of the image.
Nagi waited for them on the steps, expression carefully neutral. "Holy ground
starts right at the lintel," he said, indicating the doorway. "They won't be
able to get past this point. We're safe enough inside the church, for now."
"It won't take long for the idea of taking hostages occurs to them," Omi
pointed out with a sigh. "They know that you at least won't let innocents be
killed while you hide in a church."
"'You at least?'" Ken repeated, puzzled. "I would think you'd be the more
obvious one for that conclusion, Omittchi."
Nagi gave his lover a startled look. "You didn't tell them?"
Omi shook his head. "I figured it was more important to get them safely onto
Holy ground before I started the argument." He glanced past Nagi into the
church. It was beautifully appointed, with vaulted ceilings covered in carvings
and vast stain glass windows. At the front of the church was an elaborate altar
with a gilded cross hanging above it. At the foot of the altar, Farfarello was
staring intently at the image of Jesus on the cross, holding his knife above
his arm. Omi's eyes widened.
"For Lucifer's sake, Schuldich, don't let him desecrate the altar!" he shouted
at the telepath, who was lounging nearby. At his shout Nagi spun, using his
powers to pull the lunatic away from the altar. Omi sighed in relief. "If this
place is desecrated, they might be able to enter," he reminded the telepath
sourly.
Ken was giving him an odd look. "I feel like I'm turning into a parrot, but...
'Lucifer's sake?'"
Omi wrinkled his nose. "I suppose that's a habit I need to break," he admitted.
Nagi chuckled.
"Yeah, like me and my swearing. Well, don't all just stand out there, come
inside." He moved aside, and the rest of Weiss filed nervously past him. Omi
hesitated on the threshold, nervous.
"What's wrong, Omi?" Youji asked, looking back to see his teammate hovering
uncertainly.
"Can't you come across?" Nagi looked concerned. "If you can't come in, we may
need another plan..."
Omi sighed. "I'm just... remembering the last time I was on Holy ground," he
said, eyeing the doorway consideringly. "It took me almost a decade to heal the
last of the damage..."
"What were you doing on Holy ground?" Nagi asked, curious. Omi shrugged,
embarrassed.
"It was a dare. One of the imps challenged me to see who could stand on Holy
ground longer. I won," he added with a touch of pride, and then grimaced. "But
blessed, it hurt!" He took a deep breath. "Oh well, no way to find out except
to try it..."
He closed his eyes and stepped over the threshold, braced for the wave of
searing pain that should have swept over him. He felt an odd little tingle, but
none of the soul-deep agony he'd expected. He let out the breath, and looked at
his lover gratefully. "Looks like I'm okay. It's a little... weird..." he
shivered at the itchy feeling just under his skin, "but apparently I'm
acceptable now."
The others were watching him with varying degrees of wariness and confusion.
"You're not an angel, are you?" Ken finally asked him slowly.
Omi shook his head. "No. I'm an incubus. That's WHY we were punished," he
added, taking Nagi's hand for emphasis. "Association between angels and demons
is forbidden. Though we did manage to get away with it for an awfully long
time..." he grinned at his lover.
"Nearly half a century, wasn't it?" Nagi confirmed, smiling back at him. "Not
all that long as eternity goes, but pretty impressive considering how easily we
could have been caught."
Ken closed his eyes and leaned against a carved pillar. "Omi is a demon, and
Nagi is an angel. You are an angel, right?" he glanced at Nagi.
"A seraph," Nagi told him.
"Sure. Makes sense to me." He nodded his head, looking like it really didn't
make any sense at all.
"You think you're confused, try reading his mind," Schuldich complained,
occupied with wrapping a grumbling Farfarello in a straitjacket. "I still think
we should have left Farf behind, Brad," he called out. "He could make nice with
the bastards and maybe they'd leave us alone."
"Do you really want him associating with demons?" Crawford drawled out from
above them. Craning his neck, Omi could see that he was in the upper balconies,
watching outside the church. "I'm sure they'd be pleased to help him come up
with new ways of making God cry..."
Schuldich considered it. "Well, no, not when you put it that way," he admitted,
grimacing. He tightened the last strap, and shoved the madman down onto a pew
seat. "There. That ought to hold him for half an hour, at least. It's your turn
to baby-sit him, brat. I've had him since we got here."
"I'll watch him," Nagi said, and waved him off. "Go convince Brad to come down
off the balcony. He's not going to be able to see them coming."
The other Weiss had wandered off. Aya had continued up to the front of the
church, and was staring out one of the windows. Youji didn't look much more
comfortable at being in a church than Omi did - he was pacing back and forth
along one of the aisles, repeatedly pulling out a foot of his wire and letting
it snap back again. Ken was kneeling up at the altar, and Omi thought he saw
his friend's lips moving in a prayer.
Nagi nudged him. "Go talk to Ken," he suggested. "He looked more than a little
freaked out. If he's Catholic, he's not going to be very happy about the fact
that he almost slept with an incubus. Remember, they all think that means
they've committed themselves to Hell."
Omi nodded, and moved forward until he was even with his friend. He sank to his
knees in a conscious reflection of Ken's pose, feeling a little awkward as he
looked up at the icon looming over them.
"Ken," he said softly, not sure how to start.
"Did Jesus really exist?" Ken asked him, startling him. "I mean, was he really
the son of God?"
Omi blinked. "Before my time," he admitted. "Ask Nagi, he's older than me. I've
never seen Him, but then that's not very surprising. Rumours among the demons
are pretty divided, and none of the devils will confirm or deny it."
He saw Ken glance sideways at him. "How old are you, anyway?"
Omi frowned. "Ugh, you want me to count? We don't measure time the way you
do... let me see. The first time I got to go to the mortal realm it was, oh,
probably about seven or eight hundred A.D. I would have been around for a
century or two before that, maturing and training."
"You mean you're actually born?" Ken seemed surprised at the notion.
Omi giggled. "No, we're created by Lucifer or one of the devils with his
permission. Angels are born, though it's hard to get them to admit to doing
something as base as having sex. We're not in any danger of a population
explosion or anything... there's a fixed number of each kind of demon and angel
allowed in the world at any given time. If one dies, another one gets born or
created somewhere."
"What can kill an angel?"
"A demon," Omi replied logically. "And vice versa. The Hosts and the Hordes
have been fighting since the day Lucifer Fell. Fallen angels are outside that
number, by the way - they're considered dead, even though their spirit still
exists."
Ken glanced back over his shoulder at where Nagi was watching Farfarello try to
free himself. "Is that what Nagi is? A Fallen angel?"
"No. If he'd Fallen, he wouldn't be able to be on holy ground. We think... we
think it's possible that I may have Risen. It's never happened before, because
Lucifer destroys any demons who show signs of it. The fact that I can stand
here and not be in mortal agony is a good indication of it - as well as the
fact that I can love Nagi. Demons aren't supposed to be capable of love."
He fell silent, waiting for Ken to digest all of that. The other boy still
hadn't asked the question that had to be eating away at him, but prodding him
wouldn't produce the results Omi wanted.
Finally Ken sighed and asked it. "Am I... am I going to Hell?"
"Because of what you did with me?" Omi prompted him gently.
Ken gave him a wry look. "For that, and for killing people." He lifted his
clawed hand and depressed the lever, sending the razor sharp blades shooting
forward over his knuckles.
Omi sighed, and shifted to get more comfortable. "Not for what we did, you're
not," he told him frankly. "Not even if you'd followed through on it. It's not
all as black and white as most mortals believe. I've never understood why
anyone would want to worship a god that behaved as childishly as they say He
does," he added, glancing up at the icon. "Striking down anyone that pisses him
off, unilaterally declaring that everyone who isn't Christian - a particular
TYPE of Christian, at that - is going to Hell, regardless of whether or not
they ever had the CHANCE to become Christian... I mean, no wonder so many Holy
wars have been fought in His name. What an example to follow!
"God, as the angels keep reminding us," Omi gave him a wry grin, "is all
merciful as well as all powerful and all knowing. There are three types of
beings: angels, archangels and virtues fall into one category, and their nature
is inherently good. It takes a lot to make an angel Fall from grace, because
they're naturally so pure. Of course once they start, it's a downward
spiral..." he grinned.
"Demons and devils are a second type," he continued. "We're created with an
inherently evil nature. It's even more difficult for a demon to go against its
nature, because we're given a lot less freedom to make our own choices. Mortals
are the third type, and that includes animals. You're created neutral,
perfectly neutral. Most animals remain neutral, because they never look beyond
their instincts. Humans..."
He sighed. "Humans are the most exasperating, difficult, incredibly wonderful
beings in existence. You're capable of such great good, and such great evil.
You have such short lives, and you pack so many experiences into them! As each
person lives out his life, he encounters situations that force him to make
choices. The choice that he makes will either be good or evil, of varying
degrees. Over dozens and dozens of lifetimes, a soul will eventually become
markedly good or evil. Once they've gone past a certain point, they either
ascend to Heaven or are condemned to Hell. Masafumi, for example," he grimaced
at the thought of his 'brother', "is most likely roasting at this moment. Reiji
was borderline - he might be given one more chance. Hirofumi was more misguided
than evil, he's in no danger yet."
"Oh, come on," Ken scowled at him. "That's entirely different from everything
Christians believe!"
"Christians aren't the be all and end all of religion, Ken-kun," Omi told him
with a hint of a smile. "Though they'd like to think so."
"Well, of course you'd say that," he retorted angrily. "You're a demon! Your
whole purpose in life is to lead people astray..."
Omi bit his lip and turned away, struggling not to show his hurt. What Ken said
was true, technically. He'd been very, very good at coaxing people just a
little further along on the path of sin. But in his relationship with his
angel, he'd learned the value of love - and in the seven years he'd spent as a
mortal, he'd learned the value of friendship and family. Ken was all of those
things to him, and Omi couldn't imagine betraying him in any way.
"What's wrong?" Nagi asked, coming up behind them. Glancing back down the
aisle, Omi could see that Crawford had taken charge of Farfarello. The seraph
looked at the tears trembling on Omi's lashes and the anger on Ken's face, and
sighed. "What did he tell you that's got you so upset?"
"I was explaining reincarnation," Omi said, sniffling and hating himself for
crying. "He's afraid he's condemned himself to Hell for almost sleeping with
me..."
Ken flushed darkly. "Omi!" he protested in a hissed whisper. "You told him
about that?"
"Only that he'd accidentally entranced you into almost doing something you'd
regret," Nagi reassured him. "It wasn't your fault - there is no such thing as
a mortal pure enough to resist an incubus. They've all moved on to Heaven
already."
"I didn't do it on purpose," Omi added miserably. "I didn't even know what I
was doing! I'm sorry, Ken-kun..."
Ken's face lost some of its angry darkness, and he shook his head. "I... I
don't blame you for that, I guess. I mean, you didn't know, right?" He paused,
and looked up at the icon before glancing back at Nagi.
"He's real enough," Nagi answered him before he could even ask the question.
"He was sent to try to straighten out all the bullshit that worked its way into
the Bible." He realized what he'd just said, and made a face. "Damn it, I have
got to learn to stop swearing - ah, mou!"
Omi was giggling at him, hand over his mouth and eyes dancing with mirth. Nagi
smacked him on the top of the head, hard enough to sting but not enough to
hurt. "Stop laughing," he ordered irritably. "You're going to have just as much
trouble learning not to bless things when you're mad at them!" Omi did the
mature thing and stuck his tongue out at his lover.
Ken was watching them curiously. "Are you seriously saying that the Bible is
completely wrong?"
"Not completely," Nagi corrected him, taking a seat next to Omi. "Its purpose
was a general guideline to help keep people alive long enough to populate the
Earth - hence all the rules about cleanliness and so on." Omi reached out to
take his hand, and Nagi smiled briefly at him. "By the time the Old Testament
was collated, nearly half a dozen devils and I don't know how many demons had
played with it. All the stories about God sending His people off to the
'Promised Land' and utterly wiping out whatever group of people already lived
there are accurate, but false - it was the demons who helped them win the wars
they started, and then convinced them to write it all down 'for the glory of
God'.
"Jesus was supposed to correct those misconceptions - hence 'love thy
neighbour' and the other peaceful solutions he urged. Pretty much anything
unnecessarily violent or antagonistic in the Bible is the work of some demon or
another. Unfortunately even Jesus' words were eventually twisted." He rolled
his eyes. "Then some demon had the bright idea of putting the note about how
any further additions to the Bible were false at the end of Revelations, and
that was that. Most of the things that are accurate in it are out of date now,
but there's no way of changing them."
"I think it was one of Leviathan's minions that added the new ending to
Revelations," Omi added helpfully. "He's the devil of blasphemy," he said in an
aside to Ken.
Ken closed his eyes, trying to think it all through. "This is all a lot to take
in," he told them. "It's all so crazy... I don't know what to believe any more.
I'm really not going to Hell for... for what I did?" he asked, looking at Omi.
He shook his head. "No. Sex with an incubus IS a sin, but it's hardly a mortal
one. It just means that the victim will be slightly - and I do mean SLIGHTLY -
more disposed towards evil in their next life."
"And before you ask, I doubt any of Weiss will be condemned for what you do,"
Nagi reassured him. "Killing people is evil, but each of the lives you've saved
tilts the scale back towards good. You guys have saved a lot more people than
you've killed."
Omi grinned. "Now Schwartz, on the other hand..."
"Farfarello's gotta be going down for sure," Ken commented, then stared when
Omi and Nagi both immediately shook their heads. "Why not?"
"Farfarello's madness is the result of damage his brain took as an infant,"
Nagi told him. "It's not his fault. It's not GOOD, but it's not his fault. All
it really means is that he's more susceptible to the influence of demons, and
less so to angels."
"I doubt any of them will be condemned after this life," Omi mused, glancing
over at Schuldich and Crawford. "But they're definitely on the negative side of
the scale. Unless something happens in a later life to turn them around,
they'll get there eventually."
"Hey, what do you know? Might as well have plenty of fun in this life, then, if
I'll get a chance to make up for it later," Schuldich commented, sauntering up
to them.
"That works about as well as deciding to repent everything on your deathbed,"
Nagi told him. "You may not get a chance. The farther down you go, the less
likely that an angel will take an interest in helping you save your soul, since
there are so many more neutral souls than angels to guard them. It's not that
we don't care, just that we're overworked."
"And it's ever so much easier for us to convince someone to commit a sin than
it seems to be for the angels to get them to repent," Omi added with a chuckle.
"Mortals do love their worldly comforts, and no one likes to admit that
anything is their own fault."
"Hey, if Kenken here can get away with raping one of his own teammates, I
should be just fine," Schuldich said, deliberately loud enough for the others
to hear him. Ken flushed and ducked his head miserably as Youji and Aya looked
at him in disbelief.
"Schuldich!" Nagi protested, but Omi stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"No, this one is mine," he said quietly, standing. Schuldich actually took a
step back, and turned a little pale. Omi caught him with his eyes before he
could think to turn away, and held him. "Ken did NOT rape me. He was under the
influence of my powers, which I had no knowledge of or control over at the
time. That is not true anymore." He sent a wisp of his power through the
church, so they would all know what he was talking about.
"I am an incubus. It doesn't matter if you're straight," he flicked a glance at
Youji, who had turned away from him, blushing, "or if you think of me as a
brother," he gestured at Ken, "or even if you hate me." Schuldich whimpered as
he exerted a little more of his strength. "If I wanted you, there wouldn't be
anything you could do to stop me. Before I got control over myself, however, I
was projecting like crazy, and it's a wonder Ken was the only one who was
pushed that far. As for you..." he glared at the telepath, then abruptly smiled
sweetly at him and pulled the strings of control a little tighter.
"What would you do, to have me?" he asked him softly, gently.
"Anything," was Schuldich's immediate reply. He was shaking where he stood,
helpless to fight against Omi's power. "Anything, please..."
"Would you leave Crawford for it?" he prompted, looking at the American as he
spoke.
"Ja! Alles..." he lost his Japanese, and Omi smiled at him again. He took a
step forward and put a hand on the German's chest.
"Would you betray Crawford for it?" he pressed, watching with delight, as the
precog grew progressively more furious.
"Ja..." Schuldich tried to touch him in return, but was stopped by a simple
shake of Omi's head.
"Would you die for it?"
"Omi," Nagi interrupted him now, warningly.
"I'm not going to kill him, I'm just making a point," Omi replied absently. "I
wouldn't have to do this if he'd learned his lesson the first time. Would you
be willing to die for it, Schuldich?" he asked again. The German closed his
eyes, and nodded.
"Remember this," Omi ordered him. "Remember what you would have been willing to
do for me. Remember that I could own your soul if I wanted it, at least until I
got around to killing your body. Be grateful that my time as Omi has made me
such a softie - there was a time when I would have destroyed you without
thinking about it. And STOP MESSING with me and my friends!"
He shoved the German backwards, and turned away with a disgusted look. "Now, go
work it off - assuming Crawford still wants anything to do with you. I
certainly don't."
The others were all staring at him, wide-eyed. "Remind me not to get you pissed
at me, Omittchi," Youji commented warily.
Omi sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. "I shouldn't have done that," he admitted
miserably.
"Tired?" Nagi guessed, looking at the way he was slumped over. "You shouldn't
be using your powers like that - you'll be worn out before the fight."
"No... well, that too. I meant... I'm regretting having done that. I actually
feel BAD about it." He grimaced. "I'm not sure I like this whole 'conscience'
thing. Getting random urges to help people I don't even know, feeling bad about
tormenting someone... I can't believe I actually want to apologize to him!"
He sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. "I feel like I don't know who I
am anymore," he confessed, hugging himself tightly. "It's like I'm at war with
myself. I'm just as much Omi now as I am the incubus, but they're so...
different!"
Ken laid an awkward hand on his shoulder. "No matter what, we'll always be your
friends, Omi," he soothed the anguished teen. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you
before." Omi looked up at him with grateful eyes.
"It's not so different from when you discovered your family ties," Aya put in
diffidently. Glancing over, Omi could see the real warmth and concern hiding in
those icy purple eyes. "Then, too, you discovered a past that you couldn't
easily reconcile with who you are now. But you overcame it, as you will
overcome this. You still are, and always will be, Tsukiyono Omi."
"And you'll always be our Omittchi," Youji added firmly. Omi was distressed to
find tears springing to his eyes for the second time that night, of gratitude
and love this time.
"Minna-kun... thank you," he whispered, turning and hugging Ken tightly. Ken
returned the embrace, hesitantly at first, then more wholeheartedly. "You will
never know just how much you've all meant to me. I think even I may never
really know how much you've all meant to me. In all my centuries, no one other
than my angel has ever given a da... cared about me at all," he changed his
wording hastily. "I promise I'll watch over you all from Heaven - or wherever
we end up."
Ken looked dismayed. "You're leaving?" he blurted out, hurt.
"Our time here is almost up," Nagi told him, not unkindly. "When the seven
years are over, we get to go back to being celestials. Ordinarily, angels and
demons aren't allowed to interfere directly with mortals' lives. With some
notable exceptions, such as succubae and incubi, we aren't corporeal in the
mortal realm unless we take mortal form, in which case we lose most of our
powers. That's why Esstet opening the gates to Hell was such a bad thing - it
allowed the three devils and their minions to come through in their natural
forms, with all their powers."
"How are we supposed to fight these things?" Ken demanded, popping his claws in
and out in frustration. "Our weapons can't hurt them, and we can only stand
around praying for so long. We can't hide out in here for two months - like Omi
said, it won't be long before they start taking hostages."
"Too bad we didn't keep a few of the priests around after all," Youji commented
lazily. "We could have gotten them to bless some water balloons or something
and had a water fight..."
"Holy water... Youji, that's it!" Omi exclaimed, pouncing on his friend and
hugging him in an excess of enthusiasm. He nearly toppled the taller man over,
but Youji braced himself just in time. Releasing him, Omi turned to Nagi. "Koi,
can you bless our weapons?"
Nagi looked startled, then slowly delight bloomed on his delicate features. "I
don't see why not," he replied, eyes dancing. "If you've got enough of your
powers back to entrance someone like that, I should be able to bless a few
things. I won't be able to make them Demon's Bane weapons, but I can at least
make sure they'll do some damage." He turned to Aya and gestured peremptorily
for his katana. "Here, let me see that."
Omi held his breath as his lover began chanting over the blade, the words
sonorous and liquid. The angel-turned-mortal sketched symbols in the air over
the sword with his free hand, and little sparks of light followed the motions
of his fingers, making the metal glow wherever they settled onto it. Soon the
entire blade was shining subtly, with ancient runes etched in fire along the
length of it. Nagi finished with a last flourishing gesture, triumphant.
"There!" he proclaimed, inordinately pleased with himself. "It probably won't
kill them, but it will certainly do some damage. Youji, you next. Omi, there's
some Holy water over there in the basin by the altar - if you fill your darts
with it, it will act just like a poison to them."
Omi nodded happily and scampered over to the indicated basin, pausing with his
hand hovering an inch over the water. "I might desecrate it," he pointed out
thoughtfully. "I can stand on Holy ground, but it still isn't a hundred percent
comfortable. We shouldn't take any chances. Ken, can you refill my darts for
me, please?"
The ex-soccer player joined him at the altar, as Omi expertly cracked open the
poison casings and drained the lethal liquid carefully into the shatterproof
vial he always carried with him. "Just fill the chamber, then twist them closed
like this," he said, demonstrating the technique with one of the empty darts.
Ken took them from him, and carefully began filling them one by one at the
basin. For good measure, Omi drained his tranquilizers and handed them over as
well.
They finished just as Nagi ended the chant over Youji's wire, and Ken turned to
receive the blessing on his claw as well. Omi noted with concern that Nagi's
voice had become a little breathy in this last chant, and the telekinetic was
perspiring faintly.
"Are you okay?" he asked as the other celestial finished the blessing. Nagi
gulped, and nodded.
"I'll be okay," he answered, sinking down to sit in one of the pews. "It's just
draining. I'd forgotten how hard it is to call on my powers when I'm in mortal
form! I was going to try Healing your arm," he added, noting the way Omi was
holding the wounded limb against his chest as though it ached, "but I just
don't think I have the energy. I'm sorry, koi."
Omi felt a twinge of disappointment, but he shoved it down. He hadn't even
remembered that seraphs and some cherubs were capable of major Healings.
"That's okay," he shrugged it off negligently. "I don't have any of my two-
handed weapons here, so it won't make that much of a difference. We'll worry
about it when we survive this, okay?"
"How do you get your powers back?" Youji asked, insatiably curious as always.
"That's the second time you've mentioned being drained."
Nagi shrugged. "Lots of ways, all of them slow. Time, rest, lots of prayer,
being on Holy ground, being in His Presence, et cetera."
Ken glanced at Omi. "Do you have to be on... Unholy ground or something?"
Omi snorted. "No, of course not. I have to sleep with someone."
"And kill them," Nagi added sardonically.
"Not... necessarily," Omi admitted slowly. "It's easier - the strongest energy
by far is what's given up as the soul leaves the body. But we don't HAVE to
kill. It just means we have to seduce about four times as many people. Most
demons don't have issues with killing, so it's not like it ever comes up,
but... I haven't killed anyone since that night we first slept together."
Nagi was startled. "What? Really?" Omi nodded. "Why? And why did you always
argue with me about how wrong it was to kill people?"
"You never asked me," Omi pointed out, miffed. "You always just assumed that I
was still killing my victims. Maybe it was childish of me, but that hurt enough
that I never told you the truth - I wanted you to believe in me. Besides, it
WAS my nature to kill and you DID know that going into the relationship. You
had no right to judge me."
Nagi looked shamed. "I... I'm sorry," he whispered, looking down at the ground.
"I should have had faith in you."
"It's okay," Omi reassured him, stroking his hair gently. He sighed. "It just
means that it's much harder for me to restore my energy. Especially now - I
don't think I could bring myself to seduce an innocent, and the people I would
be willing to kill, like our targets, I have NO interest in sleeping with.
Imagine, a picky sex demon!" He chuckled at the notion, and the others had to
laugh as well. He stretched languidly, glancing around. "Maybe I should have
taken Schuldich after all," he mused deprecatingly. "I don't like him, but at
least I wouldn't feel guilty about seducing him - where is he, anyway?"
Nagi pointed at the offices in the rear of the church. "Where do you think?" he
asked with some amusement. "You know what happens to people when you entrance
them, and that's the second time you've done it to him tonight. Crawford didn't
look very happy, though - I think you managed to put a serious crimp in their
relationship."
"Good," Omi nearly purred, eyes slitted with pleasure. "That was what I was
trying for. Wait a minute..." He stared about in alarm. "If they're both in
there, where's Farfarello?"
Nagi's eyes widened, and Ken made a strangled noise. As if it had been
scripted, there was a shriek of terror from the doorway. They all jumped and
spun to face it, to see Farfarello holding a teenaged girl in a horrible
mockery of a lover's embrace. She couldn't have been more than sixteen, and her
doe-brown eyes were wild with fright as she stared at the crazed Irishman
holding her.
"Farf, NO!" Nagi shouted, trying to use his powers to stop the madman. It was
too late - Farfarello had plunged his knife into her throat and was tearing
downwards, ripping her almost literally in half. Nagi screamed in physical pain
as her lifeblood hit the ground, the desecration agonizing to one so attuned to
it.
"The blood of an innocent has been spilled," a rocky, booming voice grated out
from beyond the doorway, and Omi shivered and cried out. The three devils
loomed outside, their minions arrayed around them. "It is no longer Holy
ground. Face your punishment, traitor!"
***** Chapter 9 *****
Four dark-winged beings swooped into the church, and for a moment Omi thought
they were demons. Then he saw the feathers, and realization hit him at the same
moment as Nagi. "Fallen cherubim!" the seraph exclaimed. One of the Fallen
screeched in much the same tones as Farfarello as she dove on the icon, and the
others flew to attack the five boys.
Omi sent a frantic mental summons to Schuldich using the connection forged
between them by his powers, and was vaguely aware of the telepath's hazy
acknowledgement. He buried two of his darts in the heart of one of the Fallen
angels, and it fell writhing to the ground.
"I can't see them!" Ken exclaimed in frustration, swinging haphazardly around
him with his claw. Aya grunted his agreement, standing in a ready stance and
trying to anticipate where his opponent would come from. Nagi had blown one of
the cherubs back out through the stained glass window, and was now dodging the
celestial blade of the fourth.
Schuldich and Crawford burst through the doors from the offices, their clothing
in disarray and guns held ready. "Your bullets won't hurt them!" Omi yelled at
them, targeting the Fallen cherub attacking Nagi. He missed with his first dart
as the angel unexpectedly gained altitude, and only scratched it with the
second. The creature hissed in pain, turning to dive at him instead.
"Schuldich, take their positions from our minds and relay it to the others!"
Schuldich gave him a startled look, unused to obeying orders from anyone other
than Crawford, but did as he was bid. Omi felt the ghostly pressure against his
mind, and opened his shields enough for the telepath to see what he saw. He
knew it was working when Youji abruptly spun and lassoed the angel attempting
to tear the cross to pieces, his wire burning her flesh wherever the blessed
metal touched.
Now the Hellhounds were bounding through the door, and Ken and Aya charged to
meet them as Omi finally managed to hit his opponent dead on. He cheered
inwardly when he saw the blessed weapons tearing easily through demonic flesh,
sending the Hounds yelping and skittering away. It still wouldn't be an easy
fight - there had to be a dozen or more of the Hounds, plus who knew how many
others still outside - but at least they had a chance now!
Nagi stumbled up beside him, panting. "Cover me for a second," he gasped, and
Omi obliged him. The telekinetic cupped his hands together and concentrated,
chanting under his breath. Sparkles and streamers of light gathered, spinning
out from a sphere to a long, thin length. Abruptly it coalesced into the
shining, double-bladed longsword that was every seraph's birthright, and Nagi
grinned brightly at him. "I was hoping I could still do that," he said, and
charged back into battle with his new weapon.
Omi threw the last of his darts at another of the Hounds that was advancing on
Schuldich and Crawford, and summoned his own celestial weapon. He was gratified
to see that the energy composing it was almost entirely white, with only a few
dark strands running through it here and there - that meant it would probably
be able to injure the demons. He was dismayed to realize that he needed two
good hands to wield the long, spiked staff, however.
"Catch!" he called to Crawford instead, tossing the weapon at the precog. He
didn't know if the American knew how to use such a weapon, but even if he could
only poke at the Hounds ineffectually with it, it was still better than
nothing. Crawford seemed to realize this as well, dropping his useless gun and
catching the staff.
He was now out of useful weapons, and he stood panting for a moment, trying to
catch his breath. The demons were everywhere now, and his side wasn't entirely
without injury - Aya was bleeding sluggishly from his left arm, and he thought
he saw a few claw rakes down Ken's back, though whether they had penetrated
through the tough leather of the other boy's jacket he didn't know.
Youji passed by him, and something about the playboy's gait made Omi take a
closer look at him. He was moving slowly, jerkily, not at all with his usual
grace and panache. He followed the older man's gaze to the window, and saw a
beautiful dark-haired woman beckoning to him seductively.
"Succubus!" he realized, shouting the warning to the others. "Youji, no!" He
darted forward and blocked his friend's forward progress with his own body,
using all his body weight to hold the bigger man in place. "Youji, snap out of
it! She's a demon!"
It was useless, as he knew better than anyone. Once a succubus or incubus had
you in their power, you were oblivious to anything but them. He tried to use
his own powers to snare the man away from her, but even though he could sense
that she was technically weaker than he, he was no match for her full demonic
aspect while he was in this mortal form.
Instead he did something he would never have even thought of before - he turned
the tables on her. He caught her eyes with his own, exerting every bit of his
strength to hold her in place. She wasn't expecting it - she couldn't look away
without losing her hold on Youji, and then she was trapped. He hadn't been sure
his powers would work on another sex demon, but he was grateful to see the
familiar glaze come over her eyes. "Let him go," he ordered, and she released
Youji obediently. The playboy shook his head as if awakening from a dream, and
glanced around in confusion. "Leave, and don't return," Omi added, throwing in
an extra surge of power so the order would hold after she'd left his line of
sight, and the demoness turned and walked away.
"Oh, god," Youji moaned, shaking as he realized what had almost happened to
him.
"Don't look in their eyes," Omi told him, raising his voice so the others would
hear him. "That's how they trap you, by hypnotizing you with their eyes!"
He was trembling now with exhaustion, having used every last bit of his
reserves to turn the succubus' hold on his friend. It was all he could do to
stay upright, and he cast desperately about for some source of energy. He
spotted Farfarello only a few feet away, laughing maniacally at the fight, and
grimaced. Well, it was better than nothing, he supposed...
He used the very last dregs of his power to hold the Irishman in place long
enough for him to get there, and pressed him up against the wall with his body.
He kissed the madman deeply, feeling dirty but allowing his demonic nature to
take control briefly as he pulled the energy directly from the Irishman's soul.
Farfarello screeched beneath him, then quieted suddenly as Omi regained enough
power to enthral him.
He pulled away as the lunatic passed out from the energy drain, wiping his lips
disgustedly. "I hope I didn't catch anything nasty," he muttered as he turned
back to the fight, feeling marginally better. At least he wasn't in danger of
collapsing.
The devils had entered the church now, and were watching the fight in
amusement. Omi wondered what they were waiting for - Weiss had nearly finished
dealing with the Hellhounds, and Nagi was helping mop up the last few in quick
time. Unless they had more reinforcements waiting outside the door...
There was a sudden sickening lurch inside his mind, and Schuldich's entire
psyche washed over him as the telepath screamed and fell to his knees. Crawford
staggered, seeming dizzy as he struggled to sort through the phantasms around
him and discover which were the ones he was actually fighting in the present.
Every remaining window in the place shattered all at once as Nagi lost control
as well, the telekinetic force shoving at everything around him with sharp
pressure. Just that quickly, the battle went from nominally even odds to no
chance for them to succeed.
The few remaining Hellhounds were regrouping, apparently realizing that the
three White Hunters with their deadly blessed weapons could no longer see them.
Weiss likewise gathered into a tight knot, guarding each other's backs as they
scanned the room helplessly, trying to spot their opponents again. Nagi had
curled into a little ball nearby, and was hugging his knees to his chest and
moaning with the effort of not bringing the entire structure down around them.
Carreau laughed, the sound horrible and grating against raw nerves. "See what
your pitiful efforts come to in the end," he chuckled smugly. "You could not
have defeated us, though you might have succeeded in injuring us. Now we shall
destroy you all for attempting to defy us!"
Omi hissed at him instinctively, the sound more than half-growl and emanating
from somewhere deep in the back of his throat. One of the Hellhounds paced
forward, its massive shoulders higher a grown man's waist, and pounced without
warning. Ken went down screaming, and Aya and Youji tried to knock the
invisible foe off their teammate.
Schuldich cried out from somewhere off to the side, and then Omi lost the touch
of his mind. The telepath had overloaded, blacking out from the overwhelming
amount of agony being thrust upon him. Ken screamed again, voice choked with
blood.
"Stop!" Omi begged, tears running down his face. "Please, Carreau, stop it!
Don't hurt them! They have nothing to do with this, they're only trying to
protect me!"
The devil of cruelty looked straight at him, eyes glowing with pleasure in the
suffering of those around him. "Come to me willingly, little one, and I will
release them," he purred.
"Omi, no!" Nagi objected, gritting the words out past his locked jaw. "You
can't trust them!"
"Swear it!" Omi demanded frantically as the Hellhound turned from toying with
Ken to snap at the katana aggravating its side, catching half of Aya's arm in
its teeth as well. "Swear it by your immortal soul - I go to you willingly, and
you will release them. Aya, Ken, Youji, Schuldich, Crawford - they go free, no
harm will come to them from any devil, demon or other celestial evil, from now
until the natural end of their lives!"
"I so swear it," Carreau pronounced in triumph, as Nagi screamed a denial.
"I'll even let your precious lover live; he'll Fall anyway without you to save
him." The devil clenched his clawed fingers into his palm until the rotten-
smelling ichor ran freely, tracing a binding pentagram over his torso with the
oozing liquid.
Omi hastily grabbed up a fallen shard of glass and cut his palm, repeating the
sigil on his own body. The liquid hissed and bubbled, sinking through his shirt
to embed itself deep in his skin. He felt a distant tingle of response from the
previous pentagram that he'd traced there, on the day that his angel had first
fought him. The Hellhounds immediately backed away, leaving Aya clutching his
sword arm as Ken lay bleeding to death on the ground, Youji crouched helplessly
over them both.
"Omi..." Nagi sobbed, tears streaming from his eyes as Omi moved to go to the
devils. "Why..."
"If my destruction will save you and the others, it's worth it," Omi told him
fiercely. "It's all been worth it, angel, every moment. Even knowing that it
would come to this, if I had to do it all over again, I'd still love you." He
leaned down and kissed his soul mate gently on the lips one last time, before
continuing past him. He paused again as he came to his three friends, looking
at Carreau for permission. The devil smirked and waved negligently, knowing he
had all the time in the world to torment his new toy.
"I love you all," Omi told them in a choked whisper. "You're my family. You
taught me the meaning of friendship. Don't forget me - and help Nagi, please.
He will Fall if he doesn't have someone to guide him."
"I grow impatient," the devil warned him, and Omi felt the brand of blood on
his chest burn. He drew in a deep breath and resolutely took the last few steps
to bring him to the devil's side.
"I'm yours," he said, grateful that his voice remained steady. The monstrous
clawed hand reached for him, sharp talons piercing right through his torso as
it closed around him. He screamed in agony, blood bubbling up from his lungs to
froth forth from his nose and throat.
Please, God, if you're listening, he prayed silently, with the part of him that
somehow remained detached from the torture. I don't know if a demon's prayer
counts for anything, but if you love them at all - Weiss, Schwartz, Nagi -
please help them. Protect them, guide them, love them. Be there for them, as I
cannot. God, Jesus, all the angels in the Hosts - please!
Vaguely he was aware of Nagi staggering to his feet and rushing forward, only
to be stopped by Youji. "Don't you dare!" the playboy scolded the hysterical
psychic, holding him tightly. "He's giving his life for us - don't you dare
make his sacrifice in vain by throwing your life away!"
The massive talons withdrew, and he felt his heartblood pumping out from the
huge holes in his body. They pierced him again, and this time he didn't even
have the voice left to scream. He felt the devil's power slowly tearing his
soul to pieces, and welcomed the oblivion that waited for him in the end. At
least when he no longer existed, he wouldn't be able to feel this all-
encompassing pain...
He heard a shriek of agony from somewhere beyond his own circle of pain, and at
first he thought Carreau had broken his word and attacked the others. But no,
surely even he would not dare to break this oath...
He felt himself falling, felt the impact with the ground as only a sort of dull
pressure. It couldn't compare to the pain he was already feeling, and dimly he
wondered why his mortal body was still alive.
"Omi! Omi! For God's sake, Omi, don't die on me, please!"
He became aware of a voice calling to him frantically, of the warm, salty
wetness of tears splashing on his face. For Nagi he would do anything, even
force his eyes open through the blood that caked them shut.
Well, one eye, anyway - he suspected that his right eye wasn't there anymore.
He finally managed to focus, and found Nagi leaning over him as chaos reigned
beyond him.
He tried to form a question, but couldn't draw breath into his ruined lungs to
ask it. Nagi saw it in his face, and smiled, looking like he might pass out
from sheer relief. "Gabriel," he said, gesturing around him. "Gabriel came.
They saved us."
Now Omi saw the white-feathered wings, and realized that the mayhem was
actually Gabriel's Enforcers driving the demons and devils away. There was an
entire Host of seraphic warriors, and he could now see a couple of cherubim
kneeling over Ken and Aya. He realized that the soft surface under his head was
actually the lap of a third cherub, using her powers of Healing to keep him
alive.
"Why?" he managed to croak, grimacing as the torn tissues in his throat
protested. The cherub smiled gently down at him.
"We'd have been here sooner, but the gateway was opened deep inside Hell, and
it took us this long to fight our way to it," she told him in her sweetly
melodic voice. "We started out with half a dozen Hosts, and now we have only
the one, and a few Healers. It was very brave, what you did - sacrificing
yourself for them," she added in an awed tone. "I don't think I could have done
it, knowing what Carreau is capable of."
"Had... to..." he said, smiling painfully back at her. "They're... everything
to... me..." He felt Nagi's hand tighten on his, and his lips twitched again at
the shocked expression on the angel's face.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again his depth perception had
returned. The hideous wounds in his chest were slowly sealing over, and he was
amazed to realize that his previously injured arm was nearly whole again. "I
didn't realize just how much you were capable of Healing," he admitted
reverently. She blushed.
"You were almost beyond help," she told him seriously. "You're lucky we got
here when we did. Your friends should be all right as well..."
"OMI!" Ken's voice sounded from across the vestibule. "Let me up, will you? I'm
fine, I need to see if he's okay!"
"I'm okay, Ken-kun!" he replied, his voice still hoarse as he tried to shout.
He sat up with help from Nagi and the cherub, grimacing. Aya was staring at his
Healed arm in wide-eyed fascination, and Youji was trying to help another
cherub keep Ken still long enough to finish Healing him. The battle had ended,
and the seraphim were now regrouping to get their own wounds treated.
Ken relaxed when he saw that Omi was indeed alive, and took the time to really
look around him. He blanched. "Oh my god!" he exclaimed, then bit his tongue.
"Are... are you really all angels?"
"Yes," the cherub working on him told him in amusement. "Now sit still and be
quiet until I'm finished!"
Across the way another cherub stood over Farfarello, shaking her head sadly.
"There's nothing I can do," she told Schuldich and Crawford with genuine
remorse. "He's been too damaged, for too long, and I'm not at full strength.
I'm sorry."
"I'm not sure I'd know how to deal with a whole, sane Farfie anyway," Schuldich
snorted, eyeing the multitude of angels around him uneasily.
Omi wobbled to his feet, feeling more of his strength return to him by the
minute. "I'm okay," he told the cherub helping him. "Go heal the seraphim
before you run out of energy." She nodded and turned to one of the more badly
injured angel warriors.
"So, you found each other after all," Omi heard Michael say from behind them.
He and Nagi turned as one, to stare up at the archangel. He was looking back at
them with what could only be called a fond expression. "There will be a great
deal of upheaval in Heaven over this - a Risen demon. Not that the Hosts
couldn't use a good shakedown to shock them out of their ruts. I, for one, am
glad you succeeded."
"Michael-sama," Nagi replied hesitantly, and Omi couldn't help but giggle at
the way he automatically added the Japanese honourific. His lover gave him an
annoyed glance. "Michael, why did God punish us? Our love WAS true - shouldn't
He have known that?" He looked deeply troubled, and Omi couldn't blame him.
Michael sighed. "That is a question that bothered me for some time after you
were gone," he admitted. "I finally dredged up the courage to ask Him. I'll
give you a paraphrase of the answer He gave me - tell me, what will you do the
next time your lover kills a victim?"
"Probably cheer him on," Nagi replied flatly. "I know Omi, he wouldn't ever
kill anyone that didn't deserve it a hundred times over..." His eyes widened as
he realized what he was saying. Michael turned to Omi.
"And you, incubus... what will you do, the next time he goes charging off to
rescue some poor soul, leaving you behind?"
"Go with him," Omi answered promptly, beginning to catch on. "I don't think I
could just sit by and watch someone be hurt, knowing that I could help - that's
why I'm in Weiss, after all." He hesitated, then added, "It was a lesson,
wasn't it? Those are the things we used to fight over - the things we couldn't
understand about each other. I used to resent him so much when he would abandon
me for some cause - and he hated the thought of me killing people."
"A lesson," Michael confirmed. "And to prove the truth of your love, not to
Him, but to the rest of the Hosts so that there could be no question. He never
doubted that you would succeed. Are you ready to retake your rightful places in
the Hosts?"
"Now?" Nagi asked, startled. "It hasn't been seven years yet!"
"The point of the lesson has been learned," Michael said, shrugging so that his
great white wings rippled in the candlelight. "And the incubus' sacrifice has
more than proved his worthiness to Rise. You only had a few weeks remaining
here in any case."
They glanced at each other, and nodded wordlessly. Michael glanced over their
shoulders to where the rest of Weiss and Schwartz were gaping. "I suggest any
mortals present cover their eyes for a moment," he said wryly. "This is going
to be very bright, and I don't think my Healers have enough energy left to
unblind you all."
His hands came to rest on Omi and Nagi's heads, and Omi felt a warm tingling
move through his body. It itched, and he could feel his muscles and bones
stretching and growing, feeling the massive wings forming at his shoulder
blades. It should have hurt, this wholesale rearranging of his body, but it
didn't. The light surrounding them did indeed become unbearably bright, until
he had to close his eyes as well.
When it faded, he opened them again and looked up to see his angel, looking
back at him with the same stunned expression he imagined was on his own face.
"Angel?" he whispered, his voice returned to its normal haunting tenor tones.
He drank in the sight of his silver-haired lover, memorizing every inch to
store up against moments when he wouldn't have that precious sight before him.
"Omi..." the seraph replied in awe. "Your wings!"
He canted them forward, glancing over his shoulder, expecting to see the usual
sleek black-scaled expanse. Instead a dazzling display of pure white met his
vision, and he exclaimed aloud. "They've changed colour!"
"You've Risen," Michael explained. "Just as a Fallen angel's wings turn black,
so a Risen demon's turn white. It is a little strange to see, but they suit you
nicely."
He spread them, luxuriating in the feel of them tugging against the extra
muscles in his back. It felt strange, but good to have them back. Nagi was
doing the same, fluttering them to shake the feathers into place, and they
grinned at each other.
He flipped the wings back to their resting place against his spine, and turned
to his friends. He blinked a little to have to look down at them - he'd
forgotten that he was over six feet tall in his natural form. He kept his
powers under careful rein, knowing that the sight of an incubus alone was
enough to entrance some mortals.
Schuldich was cursing softly in German, making all the angels around him
flinch. "I don't believe this," he exclaimed. "I bloody damn well don't believe
this. Just like that," he snapped his fingers, "you guys are gone? What the
fuck is Schwartz supposed to do now?"
"You could always try balancing your own scales a little," Omi pointed out
acidly. "Try doing some good for a change - you might just find you like it. If
I can develop a conscience, anyone can!"
"Omi..." Ken said hesitantly, looking up at him. "God, this is so weird. You
don't look like you, you don't SOUND like you - but it's definitely you. I...
I'll miss you."
For the third time that night Omi felt tears spring to his eyes. He swiped at
them irritably. "I'll miss you too, Ken-kun. Ken. I'll miss all of you. I wish
I could stay!"
"Why not?" Nagi suddenly asked, and Omi turned to look at him in astonishment.
"Well, why not?" the seraph said again. "We could take mortal form, and stay
here. You've done just fine without me for the last seven years," he added to
Michael. "And I'm sure there are plenty of angels who could use a few more
centuries to get used to the idea of a demon in Heaven, never mind a few
decades. Why couldn't we live out the rest of Omi and Nagi's lives? We're
needed here!"
Omi nodded slowly, the idea taking root in his heart. "I don't want to leave,"
he pleaded softly. "They're my family, and I just found them. Seven years of
having someone love me isn't very long, compared to centuries of being
surrounded by hatred. And I can make a real difference in Weiss!"
Michael regarded them both soberly. "You realize I'd have to take your memories
away again? All of you," he nodded at the gathered mortals as well. "It's not
good for any mortal to live with such knowledge of the celestial realm. You'd
live the rest of your natural lives completely as humans, ordinary mortals."
"What's a century, compared to eternity?" Nagi shrugged indifferently. "Except
when demons are chasing us, my powers aren't all that useful anyway. And Omi's
will only get him in trouble."
"Lucifer can't even touch us," Omi added excitedly. "Carreau swore on his soul
that they would live their lives unharmed by demons if I gave myself willingly
to him - and I did. The fact that I was rescued doesn't negate the bargain. I'm
the only one who would be in any danger, and once the gate is closed they can't
reach me physically anyway."
Michael closed his eyes, and considered it. Finally he nodded, opening them
again. "So be it. Far be it from me to take you both from something that makes
you so happy." He gestured, and Gabriel stepped forward with some of the lesser
archangels. "Take their memories, and seal them in mortal form until their
corporeal bodies die. I wish you both luck - God be with you."
Omi and Nagi hugged each other tightly, then Omi turned and moved to the rest
of Weiss. As the golden, glowing light enveloped them, he knew he'd made the
right decision by the love his in friends' eyes.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Michael watched the scene in the scrying pool with interest and not a little
pride. 'Omi- and Nagi-watching', as the other archangels had taken to calling
it, had become something of a fad among the Hosts, but Michael was one of the
few who did it because he truly cared about their fates. He was glad to see
that they were getting along so well in their mortal lives.
"How are they doing?" Gabriel asked, coming into his friend's rooms after a
cursory knock on the door. "Still together?"
"You doubt it?" Michael replied with a smile, gesturing for the other archangel
to take a seat by the water's edge. "They had a bit of trouble when their
respective teams 'rediscovered' their relationship, but it seems to be going
smoothly enough now. I do believe Omi is on the verge of convincing Nagi to
switch sides. There is enough of the angel left in him that hurting people has
become difficult for him."
"You call them by those names?" Gabriel asked him, surprised. Michael shrugged.
"Why not? They'll have earned their Names after this; 'Nagi' and 'Omi' are as
good as any, and will have meaning to them." He stood and dusted off his hands,
deactivating the spell that allowed him to view the mortal world. "Come, my
friend, let's leave them to their lives for now, and enjoy our own. We'll look
in on them again in a year or two."
"God be with them both," Gabriel blessed them with heartfelt sincerity.
 
===============================================================================
Omi glanced up at the starry night sky, the fingers of his left hand twined
securely through his koi's. "Did you feel that?" he whispered, keeping his
voice down to avoid breaking the magical mood of the night. They'd managed to
get away for an entire night together, and were enjoying cuddling while
watching the stars. "It felt like... someone was watching over us."
Nagi smiled back at him. "Never doubt it, love. If a miracle like the two of us
falling in love can happen, we must have a guardian angel somewhere."
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