Disclaimer:

I do not own Weiß Kreuz or any of its characters. I just love them to no end and have a very twisted imagination. Please be aware that I am extremely poor so suing me will do you no good. Thanks.

Warning: NC-17 / Lemon Yaoi / NCS / Violence / Explicit Language

Pairings: Schuldich x Yohji / Aya + Yohji / Ken + Omi / Bradley x Nagi / Bradley x Schuldich

FYI: { Telepathic speech } -- Inner thoughts -- [ Flashback ]

Author’s note:

Hey everyone, here’s Chapter Twelve of The Hunted. There are so many POVs in this one that I’m surprised that I managed not to fry my brain as a wrote them. It really is an agonizing chapter, dwelling further into the lives of our Weiß and Schwarz bishounen. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

Okay, that’s it for now. I hope that you enjoy this latest installment of The Hunted. And as always ... Please don’t forget to review!

Thanks,

Forsaken

CHAPTER 12

Bradley sat behind his desk, his hands on his lap, staring down at the untouched stacks of paperwork in front of him. "Dammit," he cursed, running a frustrated hand through his dark hair. I can’t even concentrate.

How could he? It had been twenty four hours since he’d last seen Nagi — left him crying in this very office. It had been twenty four hours since he’d fallen into his own private hell. Bradley sighed as he placed his elbows on top of the desk and rested his forehead against his folded hands, his thumbs rubbing at his temples absently.

Never before had he felt such despair. Not even the tormented memories of his past could compare to the pain splintering through his heart right now. How could things have changed so drastically in just one day? Easy question to answer Bradley … By allowing your desire to rule your reason — your judgement!

He still couldn’t believe that he had slept with Nagi; that he’d taken the younger man without hesitation, without reason. Gods, I can still smell his scent along my skin.

Bradley closed his eyes, trying to dispel the erotic images resurfacing within his mind before his body reacted to them. But his body did not heed his commands and Bradley shivered as he felt himself begin to harden. He cursed and shot out of his seat, pacing back and forth across the carpeted floor. "Stop it," he whispered to himself, his voice angry and frustrated. "It was a mistake. A terrible mistake!"

A wonderful mistake.

Bradley closed his eyes. Great, even my own mind is against me. "Dammit."

He turned and found himself facing the sofa. He stilled, unable to move or look away as he once again remembered the feel of Nagi’s slender form draped over his own. Bradley remembered it all, remembered every blissful moment he’d experienced with the one he loved with his very soul.

And it was killing him. To know the pleasure of Nagi’s body surrounding him, of their bodies joining in the most intimate of rituals was almost too much for Bradley to bear.

Nagi had given him a most precious gift … his virginity ... his trust. And how had he treated that gift? Bradley winced and lowered his head, his hands fisting at his sides. He had desecrated it, tainted it with his touch, with his very presence. Worst still … I threw it back in his face.

Bradley raised his hands and shoved them into hair, his fingers gripping the dark locks tightly. How could I have done that to him? It had nearly shattered him to see the look of despair, of hurt that had crossed Nagi’s angelic features the instant he’d blatantly branded their first time together as nothing more than sex; a mistake never worth mentioning again. I made him cry.

The last time Bradley had seen Nagi cry was that fateful day when his life had changed forever; the day when he had found a small boy lost and confused trying to survive in a world that despised him because of his unusual gift. Ever since that day when he’d taken Nagi under his protection, Bradley had never seen Nagi shed another tear … until now.

Bradley ripped his hands out of his hair as he resumed his pacing and held back the urge to shout in frustration, in anger, in despair. Gods, why is this happening? Why is my life becoming such a nightmare? I’ve had enough!

Bradley was about to storm out of the room when the room began to darken and the edges of his vision began to fade away into white. Dammit, not now! But he had no choice in the matter, no control over his premonitions. All Bradley could do was stay still and let the vision take a hold of him.

His eyes glazed over and his breathing slowed as his body relaxed under the premonition’s grasp. Images, distorted at first, once again flashed before his mind’s eye growing clearer with every passing second. Time stopped and silence embraced him as another event in the near future was revealed to him. Then ...

He blinked.

Gradually, control was relinquished and Bradley was once again able to move his body; the vision’s spell finally broken. "Dammit," he cursed, anger washing over him. What the hell is wrong with you, Schu? What the hell do you think you’re doing?

But Bradley knew. He’d seen what was to come. The vision’s predecessor from a few weeks before had revealed to him the misguided path the telepath would take and now the signs of that ill fated future were emerging; the beginnings of a nightmare that could more than likely prove to be Schuldich’s downfall. Just like the previous vision had divulged to him, Fate was indeed intertwining Schuldich’s destiny with Kudou’s and soon with Fujimiya’s.

My fault … It’s all my fault. Bradley ran an unsteady hand over his face. The kidnaping of a Kritiker operative, namely someone from Weiss, had been his idea from the very start. The need for vengeance had laced his every thought, his every decision, his every command and now, Schuldich was going to pay the price for his folly.

You truly are amazing, Bradley. He moved slowly to the sofa and sat down, his shoulders heavy from the burden of guilt that they were carrying. First Nagi and soon, Schuldich. Gods, Bradley … How many more lives are you going to destroy before you’re satisfied?

Bradley shook his head. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. But what could he do to prevent the unfolding of Fate’s hand? The consequences of his interfering could create even more damage, worsening the odds. There has to be something that I can ... do. Bradley pushed himself off of the sofa and walked toward the door, growing more determined with his every step as an idea began to form in his mind.

I may not be able to stop Fate, but maybe I can change it’s course.

++++++

Polishing his katana in his, Aya sat on his bed staring at the gleaming metal, his hand moving automatically and without thought over it’s the smooth surface with a cloth as his mind shifted on tonight’s mission.

Aya’s brow furrowed as he remembered how strangely Yohji had been acting before the four of them had entered the complex where they would find the target Kritiker had chosen for them. The blonde had been anxious and jumpy. Ken and Omi may not have picked up on Yohji’s erratic behavior for the blonde had hid his nervousness well, but Aya had noticed the subtle underlying tension radiating from his former lover. He knew Yohji too well not to have noticed. And it had made Aya uneasy.

His apprehension had increased even more after the target had been eliminated and they had regrouped on top of the complex’s roof. Aya’s eyes narrowed as he recalled how pale and … shaken Yohji had seemed.

Aya sighed. What the hell is going on with you, Yohji? Placing the cloth on the bed, Aya stood up and walked over to the closet. He sheathed his katana and placed it on the inside hook found on the closet door. He turned and moved to stand in front of his bedroom window, his eyes staring out into the dark night sky.

There was only one way he could think of that would enable him to find out what was happening to Yohji. I have to talk to him. Get him to tell me what’s wrong. But Aya knew that it would not be a simple thing to accomplish. After all, he and Yohji were barely on speaking terms right now. Aya sifted his fingers through his crimson locks and then down to the back of his neck, massaging the growing ache there.

Somehow he had to find a way to fix the damage he had wreaked. Not only for his peace of mind, but … So that I can breathe again, dammit! Aya pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes. So that I can feel my heart beating again.

He stayed that way for a few more minutes trying to gather the strength ... the courage to walk over to Yohji’s room. Taking a deep breath, Aya turned away from the window. He crossed the expanse of the room and walked through the door, his destination clear.

I’m not going to fuck things up this time. His pride, his temper, his stubbornness, his goddamn stupidity were put aside no longer able to interfere. He would make Yohji listen to him, make him understand … Make him mine once again.

++++++

"Something’s wrong," commented Ken as he sat on the sofa in the Weiss briefing room watching his lover type away at the computer.

"Hmm?" replied Omi distractedly as he continued to type his report on tonight’s mission to Kritiker.

Ken rolled his eyes, impatience rearing its ugly head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Dammit Omi, could you please pry yourself away from that damn report for a minute?"

Omi stopped typing abruptly.

Ken closed his eyes briefly wanting to smack himself senseless. Fuck, now he’s pissed at me. You and your big mouth, Hidaka. How he managed to walk around with his foot in his mouth all of the time was beyond him.

Omi swivelled around in his chair and Ken held back the urge to wince as Omi’s cool blue eyes bore into him.

"Well, you’ve got my attention, Ken.” Omi looked down at his wrist watch. “But you’d better hurry, you’re on the clock," Omi said, his tone sarcastic and definitely ticked off.

Ken ran a hand through his dark hair, causing the brown strands to spike up on one side. "Look, I’m sorry, love,” he apologized, trying to make Omi understand his frustration. “It’s just that Yohji and Aya are acting funny again, especially Yohji, and I don’t like it." Ken sighed. "I just don’t like all of this tension. It’s making me edgy." He looked up at Omi. “Am I making any sense to you?”

Omi shook his head. "Yes, you are.” Omi grinned and said, “Although, you really should learn to express yourself in a way that doesn’t make me want to kill you."

Ken grinned back. “That is a bad habit of mine.” Ken sobered suddenly, a worried frown blooming across his brow. “Did you notice how uptight Yohji was tonight?"

"Yeah, I did," Omi replied, his voice grim.

"He was so quiet in the car that for a second I thought we’d left him behind. I mean, Aya I’m used to, but Yohji?" Ken shook his head. "It’s just too weird."

Omi uncrossed his arms and stood up to walk over to where Ken was sitting.

His lover climbed onto his lap and Ken rested his head against Omi’s chest, nearly purring as his lover’s fingers began to gently comb through his hair. Ken wrapped his arms around Omi waist and sighed contentedly. “I really love it when you do that.”

Omi placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

“I know that you’re worried, too,” Ken said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes, I’m worried. I have been for a while now, you know that.” Omi’s body tensed a bit. “And I hate feeling so helpless.”

Ken ran a soothing hand across Omi’s cheek. Omi leaned into the caress and pressed a tender kiss into Ken’s palm.

“You’re not useless,” Ken told his lover. “But your hands are as tied as mine are.”

“You’re right about that,” Omi agreed. “Aya and Yohji are the only ones that can bridge the gap they’ve manage to place between them.” Omi shook his head. “But it seems as if they’re never going to manage it.”

Ken nodded. “Yeah, makes you want to knock them both in the head, doesn’t it?”

Omi smiled. “They’re just too stubborn for their own good. They’re so very different ... yet so very alike.”

“Kind of like us, huh?”

“Yeah, kind of like us.”

Ken pulled back enough to look into Omi’s beautiful eyes. “What do you think about Yohji — about how weird he’s been acting?”

Omi sighed dejectedly. “Yohji’s ... changed. I can’t even recognize him sometimes. He looks sick and so tired all of the time. But the change isn’t just physical. He doesn’t go out anymore and keeps to himself almost all day and night.” Omi paused and looked into Ken’s blue-green gaze. “And no matter how many times I’ve asked him what’s wrong, he refuses to tell me.” Omi leaned forward and rested his chin on Ken’s shoulder. “I was scared for him tonight, Ken. I just couldnR