Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.

I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!

//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'

Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.

Chapter Two:

Youji scurried up the stairs, desperate to return to the solace of his room. But upon reaching his destination, he was swarmed with an entirely new set of memories, memories which affected him on an entirely different level.

//'Now let's see.' The foreign thoughts march around his head, poking and prodding in places Youji had long forgotten. 'Oooh.' The German's pleasure echoes inside his head; a feeling infinitely worse than simply hearing it with his ears. 'Someone's been a bad little kitty cat, hasn't he?' 'Stop. Stop. Get out. Stop.' The German chuckles inwardly, causing Youji to wail in response. The sound stops in his throat, but Schuldig can hear it nonetheless. He seems to relish the sound. The chuckling only gets louder. 'Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.' 'Oh, but kitten, I'm having so much fun.' 'No. Not fun. Pain. Stop. Stop.' A gurgling noise escapes Youji's lips. The orange haired man in front of him frowns, opening his jaw to let the bile flow out. 'Shh. Calm down, kit. We don't want you dying, now do we?' The drool that had been choking him drips down his dry lips, off of his chin to pool on the floor. 'Come now, kitten, let me inside again.' And the probing begins once more.//

Youji whimpered aloud, startling himself out of his reverie. With a look around the room, he reassured himself that he was safe. They were just bad memories.

Looking around the room, Youji became aware of the broken door handle. Now having a task to focus on, the memory left his mind, leaving him to his work. But the task was completed all to quickly, and with it ended his momentary relief.

//'Oh, kitten. How awful. How could you let that happen.' The voice tuts inside his mind. 'Your parents, Asuka, and oooh, how about this?' Memories push forward, one by one, to be viewed by Youji as he writhes in his bonds. All the while, Schuldig's voice provides a sadistic commentary in the background. 'Stop. Please. Stop. I'll do anything. Stop. Make it stop!' He wails inwardly, and Schuldig smiles. 'Really,kitten? Anything? Would you be willing to do this?' Another memory pushes forward, into his line of mental vision. Youji's thoughts blank in horror. He is being exposed to another's thoughts.//

Youji searched the room for something else to do. Something that would get his mind off of these things, without making him leave the relative safety of his asylum. He came up empty-handed as the next wave of thoughts rode in.

//'How'd you like it, kitten? Now, do you understand? Why they call me Schuldig; why I am guilty?' He laughs, but the sound is different from before. It is a sound derived from pain, bitterness, and sadness. Not a sound of pleasure. 'Would you like to see more? Or should I stop? You said you'd do anything, anything to make it stop. Are you willing to do it? Willing to do what I did, if it grants you that bit of freedom?' 'No. No. Stop. Stop. Not anything. Something, but not anything. Make it stop.' The bitter laughing is replaced once more with that chuckle of pleasure. Youji writhes in his bonds, the bile from his stomach dribbling down his chin.//

Youji turned to the door, fumbling to open it, to free himself from his new cage. He nearly breaks the knob again in his rushed efforts. 'Damn it, damn it. Not alone. Not now. I don't want to be alone. People. I'm going to find people. Damn it, where is everyone?' Youji frantically searched each room; no one was to be found. Struggling to breathe, he headed for the stairs. There would be people in the shop; of that he was fairly certain.

'Calm down, Youji. Don't arouse suspicions. It's fine. It's daylight. Nothing will happen to you in the daylight.' Youji coached himself as he made his way down the stairs. 'Daylight? Nothing will happen to you in daylight? Bullshit! The memories come anytime now. Day, night. They don't care! You can't stop them anymore. You can't pretend. You need help. Face it. You need help.' One side of his mind fought vainly with another. By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, he held the semblance of control.

Stepping into the shop, he was surprised to find Aya the only occupant. "People? Where are they?" Youji realized how desperate he sounded only after the words had escaped his mouth.

"People?" Aya raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about, Youji? We closed. It's after five." Youji blinked a few more times before calming slightly.

"Omi? Ken? Where are they?" Youji was proud to note he sounded a little more in control this time.

"Omi's getting takeout. California rolls for you. Ken's on his way from a soccer game." Youji nodded slightly, reassured that he would soon be accompanied by not only one but three people.

"You're acting weird." It was Aya's way of asking if you were all right.

"I." Youji almost considered opening up to the redhead. But by the time he'd made a decision, Aya had turned away, and Ken had entered through the back.

"Where's the food?" Ken panted, having run home from the game. He looked around the shop hopefully. "I'm hungry; where's the food?" he repeated.

"Omi's getting take out. Sashimi." Ken smiled, nodding his gratitude before jogging up the stairs to shower before eating.

Youji watched him go, noticing he'd been completely ignored. "Uh," he said dumbly. Aya looked over at him, waiting for him to continue the non- thought. "Never mind," Youji barely whispered, moving to light up a cigarette. Only then did he notice he was shaking. 'Why the hell am I shaking?' Youji wondered. He couldn't place a reason. 'God. This is really getting to me.'

Aya had raised an eyebrow at Youji's shaking hands, but other than that, he was ignored.

"Home!" Omi called out from the back, automatically heading for the stairs to set up in the kitchen. "Dinner's here!" he yelled further.

"We're right here! You don't have to yell," came Ken's scream from the top of the stairs. Aya raised an eyebrow, and Youji was almost tempted to smile.

"Then come eat!" Omi yelled again, on his way to the kitchen, followed by Aya and Youji. When they got there, Ken was already sitting at the table.

Dinner went by with little conversation. All was silent except for Omi's questions and Ken's muttered responses. No one seemed to notice that the usually talkative Youji was simply pushing his sushi around the plate, and certainly nobody noticed that Aya was silent.

The meal ended similarly. Ken stood up, loudly praising the meal. Then Omi stood up to leave, thanking the group, for what they couldn't be sure. Finally, Youji stood only to be stopped by Aya's firm grasp on his too loose shirt.

"What?" Youji snapped, annoyed. Aya just raised an eyebrow as the others walked out, ignoring the pair's hatching squabble.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Aya asked in a low, near threatening tone as soon as the others were out of hearing.

"What?" Youji asked, genuinely confused.

"You didn't eat." Aya released his sleeve and pointed to the chopped up food on his plate. "You're going to worry the others."

"Is that all?" Youji returned to his defiant, annoyed tone, momentarily taking up his former attitude. But it didn't last long; his will gave out, and he began to edge towards the door.

"No, that's not all." Aya sounded grumpy. He didn't like being forced to mother them. He only did it when necessary. "You're not eating. You're going to die if you don't. Why aren't you eating?"

Youji paused in his inching. His voice was edged ever so slightly with hope. "You noticed?" It was a stupid question. Of course he had noticed if he was commenting on it. Aya's eyebrow twitched and he grumbled quietly. "I mean." Youji scrambled for the proper response. "I just wasn't hungry?" The comment was meant to be a statement. It came out as a half-hearted excuse, a question.

"You haven't been hungry for the past few days?" Aya was practically growling. "How are we supposed to rely on you in a mission if just the wind can blow you over?"

Aya's annoyance was catching. "I just wasn't hungry." Youji growled back. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry, Aya. Its just that if I eat anything, I'll spend the rest of the night retching it up because Schwarz is haunting my dreams.' Yeah. That would go over well.

Youji attempted retreat again; this time his stride was powerful, long. This time, Aya allowed him to escape.

Youji made it to his room without incident. He only hoped that the rest of the night would go by as well. He was not in luck.

//'Kitten, kitten, kitten. When will you learn? Something isn't an option. I'm not going to stop my fun in exchange for 'something'. I want specifics. Come now, kitten. I'm sure you can be creative.'// The memories started almost immediately upon his thoughts of hope.

//'What would you give, to be let down?' Schuldig pokes his abdomen painfully. He traces each of the little cuts caused by his teammate's earlier amusements. Youji's thoughts raced, ideas of how to earn release, ideas of how to get Schuldig off of him, buzzing through his mind. Schuldig laughed, amused, for as rapidly as the thought appears, it is equally quickly rejected. 'Fine, fine, fine. No need to stress, kitten.' Schuldig chuckles happily. 'I'll tell you the answer. Don't you fret.' His hand smoothes over the taut stomach. The painfully empty stomach that was quivering with repulsion and fear. 'Nothing. There is nothing that you can do to free yourself. You're stuck, little cat. You're stuck as my playmate, indefinitely.' He pauses for a moment, his hand dipping lower than the concave stomach, tracing a painful nail over the more sensitive flesh. 'That is, unless you'd prefer I brought Crawford back in.' Youji tries to hiss, spraying the spit and bile that had gathered in his throat over the carrot top before him. "You bitch." Schuldig's hand comes up, the back of it meeting his face. "What the hell did you do that for?" He wipes the hand over his face, smoothing his hair and removing the awful liquid. To Youji, it is worth it. For momentarily, his body and more specifically his member is free from that horrible hand, free from those sharp nails. "That's it, kitten. Tomorrow. Just wait. Tomorrow, I'll make it all up to you. We're going to have some fun, kitten. And by we, I don't mean just you and myself."//

The memories came to an end. Youji awakened to find himself curled in the fetal position in the middle of the floor. Shivering, he stood. He decided he didn't want to be alone.

Youji next found himself in front of his teammate's bedroom door. Specifically, he came to find himself in front of Aya's door, his hand raised to knock. After a moment's hesitation, he did so.

Aya took a while answering the door. When he did, the _expression with which he greeted Youji was not kind. "What do you want?" he grouched; he'd been reading and didn't wish to be disturbed.

"Uh.I.You see.Ken's asleep, and Omi's busy.and I." Youji quickly tried to concoct an excuse.

"I am too. Now what do you want?" Aya growled at the lanky man in front of him.

"Huh?" Youji replied unintelligently.

"I'm busy too, what do you want?" he asked again, his annoyance growing.

"Umm.." Youji's courage failed him. "Nothing. It's stupid. Never mind." Youji's face paled and he backed away from the door.

Aya began to regret his harsh tone as Youji visibly crumbled before him. "Youji, what did you want?" He asks, his tone almost soft, almost caring. Almost.

"I.I'm sorry for bothering. Sorry. Bye." Youji turned, defeated; he began the short journey back to his own room. Aya's indifferent _expression fell to a frown, a near pout, as he watched his broken teammate trudge along.

He wanted to reach out to him. He wanted to wrap his arms around the tall man and ask him for his thoughts. He wanted to comfort him, like he would his sister, like any normal person would want. He wanted to, but he'd be caught dead before he did.

So rebelling against every instinct inside of him, brotherly and otherwise, he turned back into his room. He turned his back on his teammate, his friend, in favor of a sub-par book on swordplay.