We're both silent for a while, lying crosswise on Aya's bed. Me staring at the ceiling, him half-curled up with one knee on the bed and facing the wall. Only the sounds of tense breathing tell me he's not asleep.

My mind is spinning. What started out as an evening on the town to cheer me up has turned into one hell of a new problem. If Aya thinks he can continue to deal with this alone he is _so_ wrong; now that I know, it's my problem too. A Weiss problem. Hell, it's a security breach. A hostile telepath in your head does not tend to improve missions.

And our leader didn't warn us for a month? A sudden twinge of anger keeps me from speaking for a moment. "Aya, you have to tell Kritiker."

"I did."

Oh. Nice of them to keep us in the dark, wasn't it? "What'd Birman say? Can they help at all? They have a research department and stuff." If the other side can use kundalini, hey, maybe we can make mental shields.

Aya uncurls a little, rolling over on his back. "They did," he answers tiredly. "Two weeks ago they were murdered by Schwarz."

"...Shit."

"Hn."

I'm not going to let go of the main point, though. "And you have to tell the other two."

His voice is flat and final. "No."

"_Yes_." I sit up to look at him. "Aya, what if he's messing around in their heads too? What if he starts tomorrow? What if-"

"They're fine." Aya's looking straight into my eyes, with that I-mean-it expression. "I've been watching them."

And he has, I'm sure. Ken and Omi are both about as transparent as the shop window; when one of them is suffering, it shows. I sigh, letting most of the anger slide away. "I'm glad. But still-"

Aya interrupts, still watching my face carefully. "The one I was concerned for was you."

"Me!?"

"You haven't left your room in three weeks. You don't talk to us. You refuse to answer questions about yourself." It's very unnerving to be stared at by Aya. He avoids looking directly at people so much that when he does give you his full attention, it's like being trapped in violet headlights.

"Argh!" Smacking my forehead seems only appropriate. It _does_ look suspicious the way Aya puts it. "No. Thanks for being worried and all, but there's no way I would put up with that kind of shit. You know why I was depressed." As an afterthought I add, "And I'm better now."

More silence, the awkward seconds stretching out. I try again. "Even if -" And long pale hands wrap around my throat, cutting the words off.

Shit, he's fast. Aya's full weight pins me to the bed, trapping my arms underneath him; I didn't even see him start to move. His eyes are cold and furious. "Put _up_ with?", he hisses.

What the - oh, hell, did I really say that? Dumb, Youji, dumb. "'m sorry," I croak; after a moment the pressure on my throat relaxes a little. Aya's glare does not.

I meet it squarely. "Sorry. That wasn't meant to insult you." Tactful lies aren't going to be much good here and Aya wouldn't care for them anyway. "But you _know_ I wouldn't. Whatever it is he's doing, I'd fight it, get him out of my head or knock myself out or whatever. Strangle the bastard in the dream. There's just no _way_ I'd give up or submit to...that kind of thing." So why are you, Aya? The unspoken question hangs in the air.

Those ice-violet eyes narrow in answer. "Why do you let Asuka die?", he asks me softly. Dangerously.

"What?" I'm stunned.

"In your nightmares. You scream and cry out for her. Why not fight the dream and change what happens? Or wake up when it starts? Do you choose to let her die, each night?"

For a moment the urge to kill him is overwhelming. I nearly turn and throw him off me, ready to smash that perfect face into bloody splinters. But there's been enough of that tonight. Deep breaths, Youji. Steady. "That's _different_," I finally mutter between clenched teeth.

Aya knows every one of my violent little thoughts; I can see it in his eyes. "Is it?" he asks, still in that soft even voice. "What would you do if you dreamed of S- of _him_, then?"

"I'd think of something." He can't say the name, even. Aya is not handling this well.

His fingers dig into my neck, and I feel the nails break skin. "You can't stop your love from bleeding to death; how would you stop him from touching you? A dream is a dream."

I don't actually have a good answer to that. "Aya..." He's so angry, at me, at Schuldich. This is more emotion than I've seen him show since his Takatori rages.

"What would you do," he whispers, "if he told you the next time you slept he would fuck you?"

My breath catches in my throat and for a moment I just lie there, stupidly looking up at him. It's _that_ bad? Christ, no wonder Aya's a mess tonight.

"That's what this is all about?", I ask as calmly as possible, trying to keep the shock from my voice. The last thing I want to do is insult him with pity or sympathy.

Abruptly Aya lets go of me and rolls away to lie back on the bed. His silence is answer enough. No wonder he hasn't thrown me out; as long as he has Youji to fight with, he doesn't have to fall asleep. And there's always the chance I might think of something useful...

Yeah, right. Gingerly I feel my neck for the marks of his hands, tracing the little half-moon imprints. Only one of them is really bleeding. Hell of a way to ask a guy for help, but I suppose I should be grateful he didn't actually choke me.

A number of things fall into place as I think back over the evening. "No wonder," I murmur. "You wanted to get laid so at least he wouldn't be your first. And then he screwed that up for you too." It must have been so hard for him to ask me, to walk into that club. He must have been desperate.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Aya flinch a little, but he doesn't say anything. "So that's what pushed you," I continue. "All right then. We'll think of something." Any minute now. Really.

Inspiration, liquid, badly needed. Fortunately there's a six-pack lying forlornly by the door where I dropped it an hour ago, when things were simpler. I fumble for the cans and pass one to Aya. He looks at it blankly for a minute before sitting up to drink.

Several swallows of warm beer later, my brain kicks back into gear. This is a temporary situation. Sooner or later - probably sooner - we'll face Schwarz in battle and Aya can gut the bastard, if they don't kill us all instead. The problem is keeping him in one piece until then. Obviously concern for his sister and the team isn't enough to stop him from damaging himself. What is? We can't watch him all the time; Aya has to be able to deal on his own.

How do you help a man face the unendurable?

...You take part of it away.

I need a cigarette. I need a better idea, because this one makes my skin crawl. Hopefully the next can will provide other answers.

It doesn't. Aya is still nursing his first beer, eyes fixed on his own feet. Waiting for me to come up with a plan. Trusting me not to walk out on him. Now that I know what's going on, it's easy to see the lines of fatigue in his face. He probably tries to sleep as little as possible. Does he nod off in the shop during the day? Does Ken yell at him for it, does Omi watch him with those prying sympathetic blue eyes?

My second can is empty. I take a deep breath, open my mouth, close it again. "Aya." He doesn't look up, which is just fine. "If...things had gone all right with Meya, would that have helped?"

He shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. I push on. "Seriously. Would that make the difference for you? If it weren't your first time, if you knew what to expect, could you deal with Schuldich?" I still think it's possible to fight the guy, but one thing at a time.

Aya's shoulders jerk a little at the name, a reflexive twitch. "It doesn't matter," he answers flatly. "It wouldn't work." There's a defeated tone in his voice I don't like one bit.

"Um. Not like that." God damn it, am I actually blushing? "Not with a girl."

Startled, he looks over at me, and I feel my cheeks turning crimson. A proposition hasn't gone this awkwardly since my high school English teacher. Briefly I consider hiding under the bed. Kudou, what are you doing...

"Youji, you're _straight_."

No kidding. "That has nothing to do with this," I answer with complete sincerity. "This is about getting _you_ stable. No more games with your katana, no going crazy on missions. We need you, Aya. Aya-chan needs you."

He's still staring at me in confusion. It's that kitten look again, the 'I-can't-glare-my-way-out-of-this-now-what?' expression he had when Meya touched him. If the situation were different I would find it cute. "So would it help?" I push.

I'm half hoping he'll say no, despite not having any other ideas. But he looks away and a faint flush colors his own high cheekbones. "Maybe."

"No maybes. Deal or no deal." Aya does keep his word and I'm taking advantage of the fact. If he promises to stay sane there's a good chance he will.

"All right," he whispers.

So that's it. Kudou Youji has now officially sold every piece of his soul to Weiss. But what was I supposed to do, abandon him to keep my masculine pride? It's not like there's much left of me now anyway. What there is belongs to Aya and Ken and Omi; if there's anything still worth doing it's protecting them.

Aya does his best not to flinch away as I lean slowly over. His eyes are wide and wary, his hands unconsciously curled into fists. When I lay my hands on his shoulders he takes a deep breath; a second later his eyes close and he turns his face up to mine.

Women's lips are soft and yielding. Aya's are firm and closed against me; I kiss them lightly once, twice, then simply hold my mouth against his. When he finally responds a shudder runs down my spine. We kiss like nervous teenagers for a while, hesitantly pressing together and darting apart. Then I run my tongue along his lower lip and Aya shivers in turn before opening willingly to me.

His tongue isn't like a girl's either and I'm damned if I can say why. It feels incredibly strange for us to be touching like this - not bad, exactly, though I almost break away when Aya daringly brings my tongue into his mouth and sucks. The rhythmic pull calls up an answering flutter from my groin and I make a small sound of surprise into his mouth.

When we draw back at last both of us are breathing hard. Somewhere in there Aya's hands slid into my hair; he slowly pulls them free as I let go of his shoulders, and we stare at each other wondering what to do now.

Which means it's up to me. I run a finger along his jawline, trace the curve of his ear until his eyes flutter closed again. "I'm going to take a shower, Aya, and go back to my room. Then you take yours and come find me."

He just nods. I kiss him once more, quickly, and make my escape to the bathroom. Thankfully it's free of teammates; I lock the door and lean with my back against it, shaking a little.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

* * *
Part Five | Part Three

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