Strange Times
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,098
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
50
Views:
4,098
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
11
Aya missed his bland, boring evenings. He missed reading dry novels and figuring out the most efficient ways to get blood out of various materials. His nights off were starting to read like a bad paranormal pulp novel, with cliché twists of fate and poor results from the best of intentions.
When Schuldich pulled his brain back from wherever it had wandered off to he came back fighting. Feral and fast, spitting, clawing and biting, Schuldich tore his way out of Aya’s grip. Violence pulsed in the room like an ethereal heartbeat, almost tangible as Schuldich crouched on the far side of the kitchen amidst the shattered remains of a mug that had been knocked aside. Aya resisted the instinctive urge to scrunch his eyes shut against the pain sparked by the telepaths invasive fury, desperate to keep the unsettled telepath in his sight.
With the casual ferocity of a starving predator amidst easy prey, Schuldich tore through Aya’s mind, looking for something.
And not finding it.
Schuldich snarled, and shot forward, his uncanny speed making it impossible for Aya to read the intended motion, to successfully dodge the bony shoulder that was slammed into his stomach.
“Snap out of it, you idiot.” Aya gasped through gritted teeth, hunching slightly. He had been an idiot to think he could have handled Schuldich. He was an idiot to think Schuldich was safe and sane. He was going to be a dead idiot shortly if Schuldich didn’t get his brain back in order and settle down.
It felt like a concussion combined with particularly vicious psychotropic drugs, having Schuldich prying around in there. If this was what his victims went through…Aya swallowed bile, jerked as Schuldich’s hand wrapped around his neck, as the headache intensified.
“Stop it.”
Whoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyou…
It was frantic, a bit of fight or flight gone terribly wrong, but it was almost recognizable as Schuldich.
“Snap out of it and get back here.” The hand on his throat was uncomfortably tight, and Aya did his best to bear with it, which was partially an attempt to stay as still as possible and partially due to the fact that he was hurting too much to get too far.
WhoamIwhoamIwhoamI…
“I should have let you drown, you bastard.” Aya coughed, his throat too constricted to manage his ire.
A good dose of panic, mixed with an unhealthy bit of fury, and Aya was shoved back into the wall, and found himself nose to nose with his assailant. “You don’t think that.” Schuldich sneered a vicious imitation of his usual disdain.
“You’re right.” Aya wished he knew how the bastard’s telepathy worked. It was unsettling to see someone who was usually fairly in control of every situation so off center, so confused. Aya never thought he would miss Crawford…
‘Crawford.’
It was a lifeline he had never intended on throwing, but Aya was more than willing to work with it. It was a lot of guesswork, and if he thought about it too hard he would wince at how silly it seemed, but Aya did his best to remember every infuriating detail about Bradley Crawford, from the irritating arrogance to the insufferable assurance.
Who’d have thought the telepath had depended on that galling stability?
Schuldich shuddered once, his brain catching up with where he was, who he was, and what had happened. Disorientation and distress were squashed out of existence as Schuldich tried to rebuild shields fast enough to pretend the breakdown had never happened.
“Let go.” Aya demanded almost calmly.
Schuldich’s fingers uncurled, leaving marks that were most definitely going to result in some interesting and hard to explain bruises.
Aya blinked, catching a stay bit of thought that whispered through the struggling walls of Schuldich’s telepathy. So that’s how Crawford had handled the oddly vulnerable telepath…
Schuldich started to move away, a stiff attempt at a casual retreat, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. Aya and Schuldich both stared at the point of contact, both as surprised.
And then Aya sighed, coughing slightly as his throat and lungs protested the action. “You should get some rest.”
“Sure.” Schuldich shrugged, casually turning towards the couch.
“Take the bed.”
Schuldich stared for a long, tense moment, unwilling to loosen the desperate grip he had on his telepathy long enough to figure out what Aya’s intentions were. “Sure.” He cautiously agreed.
Aya listened to the quiet rustling of blankets, and tried to sort out how he was going to convince himself to crawl into bed as well.
When Schuldich pulled his brain back from wherever it had wandered off to he came back fighting. Feral and fast, spitting, clawing and biting, Schuldich tore his way out of Aya’s grip. Violence pulsed in the room like an ethereal heartbeat, almost tangible as Schuldich crouched on the far side of the kitchen amidst the shattered remains of a mug that had been knocked aside. Aya resisted the instinctive urge to scrunch his eyes shut against the pain sparked by the telepaths invasive fury, desperate to keep the unsettled telepath in his sight.
With the casual ferocity of a starving predator amidst easy prey, Schuldich tore through Aya’s mind, looking for something.
And not finding it.
Schuldich snarled, and shot forward, his uncanny speed making it impossible for Aya to read the intended motion, to successfully dodge the bony shoulder that was slammed into his stomach.
“Snap out of it, you idiot.” Aya gasped through gritted teeth, hunching slightly. He had been an idiot to think he could have handled Schuldich. He was an idiot to think Schuldich was safe and sane. He was going to be a dead idiot shortly if Schuldich didn’t get his brain back in order and settle down.
It felt like a concussion combined with particularly vicious psychotropic drugs, having Schuldich prying around in there. If this was what his victims went through…Aya swallowed bile, jerked as Schuldich’s hand wrapped around his neck, as the headache intensified.
“Stop it.”
Whoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyou…
It was frantic, a bit of fight or flight gone terribly wrong, but it was almost recognizable as Schuldich.
“Snap out of it and get back here.” The hand on his throat was uncomfortably tight, and Aya did his best to bear with it, which was partially an attempt to stay as still as possible and partially due to the fact that he was hurting too much to get too far.
WhoamIwhoamIwhoamI…
“I should have let you drown, you bastard.” Aya coughed, his throat too constricted to manage his ire.
A good dose of panic, mixed with an unhealthy bit of fury, and Aya was shoved back into the wall, and found himself nose to nose with his assailant. “You don’t think that.” Schuldich sneered a vicious imitation of his usual disdain.
“You’re right.” Aya wished he knew how the bastard’s telepathy worked. It was unsettling to see someone who was usually fairly in control of every situation so off center, so confused. Aya never thought he would miss Crawford…
‘Crawford.’
It was a lifeline he had never intended on throwing, but Aya was more than willing to work with it. It was a lot of guesswork, and if he thought about it too hard he would wince at how silly it seemed, but Aya did his best to remember every infuriating detail about Bradley Crawford, from the irritating arrogance to the insufferable assurance.
Who’d have thought the telepath had depended on that galling stability?
Schuldich shuddered once, his brain catching up with where he was, who he was, and what had happened. Disorientation and distress were squashed out of existence as Schuldich tried to rebuild shields fast enough to pretend the breakdown had never happened.
“Let go.” Aya demanded almost calmly.
Schuldich’s fingers uncurled, leaving marks that were most definitely going to result in some interesting and hard to explain bruises.
Aya blinked, catching a stay bit of thought that whispered through the struggling walls of Schuldich’s telepathy. So that’s how Crawford had handled the oddly vulnerable telepath…
Schuldich started to move away, a stiff attempt at a casual retreat, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. Aya and Schuldich both stared at the point of contact, both as surprised.
And then Aya sighed, coughing slightly as his throat and lungs protested the action. “You should get some rest.”
“Sure.” Schuldich shrugged, casually turning towards the couch.
“Take the bed.”
Schuldich stared for a long, tense moment, unwilling to loosen the desperate grip he had on his telepathy long enough to figure out what Aya’s intentions were. “Sure.” He cautiously agreed.
Aya listened to the quiet rustling of blankets, and tried to sort out how he was going to convince himself to crawl into bed as well.