Ch. 6: "Possession"

Notes: Yes, I know the series ended differently. But you know me, I always gotta tweak the story line... =pp so I guess this is kinda AU. I mess a lot with the concept of the story. ^.^; Those with weak stomachs, don't proceed. *Sweatdrop*
Disclaimer: WK does not belong to me. Neither do the lyrics that proceed each chapter- they're taken from various songs from the "Queen of the Damned" soundtrack. Don't sue. =pp

Why is everything so fucking hard for me?
Keep me down to what you think
I should be

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Yohji sighed, propping his chin on his hands and closing his eyes from where he was seated at the kitchen table. "Run that by me again, Ken. What was that about 'tingling sensations'?"
Ken scowled at him from where he was rummaging in the fridge. "When Ryo was doing..whatever he was doing, my palms started to tingle. It hurt. I was wondering if that was because I use my hands to Heal. What about the rest of you? Did any part of you feel funny?"
"My head," Yohji said drolly. "It hurt like a son of a bitch."
"I'm serious, Yohji," Ken snapped.
"My hands," Omi said quickly to stop the argument. He held up a hand. "They started feeling weird from here.." he dragged a finger from his wrist to his fingertips. " here."
Ken sipped at his powerade, glancing towards Aya.
Aya shrugged, seated on the countertop, balancing gracefully. "Nothing specific. Everything hurt."
Ken gave him a sympathetic look that Aya ignored.
"Probably because you don't have to touch something for your Gift to work," Omi mused. He raised his eyebrows at Yohji expectantly. "Yohji-kun?"
Yohji frowned, not looking at any of them. "My feet," he finally said gruffly.
"Your feet?" Ken repeated. "What kind of Gift is that?"
"How should I know?" Yohji snarled.
Ken's temper stirred. "Look-" he started angrily.
"That's enough, you two," Omi cried, stepping in between them. "Look, I know we're all a little on edge-"
"A little?" Yohji mocked.
"-after what Birman told us, but being snide to each other isn't going to help."
Ken sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Omi turned to him anxiously. "Are you feeling all right, Ken-kun?"
"I'm fine," Ken said quickly. He'd been released from the hospital after two days just that morning. He still felt a little weak, and the light irritated his eyes, but other than that he was normal. He flashed a reassuring grin. "Daijabou. It's not like I lost a limb. Just a little blood. I'll be back to normal in no time."
"You think so?"
They all looked over at Aya's quiet voice.
Aya looked at Ken through his bangs, face emotionless. "If it really was a vampire that attacked you, won't there be a side effect?"
Ken stared at him, nonplussed. "Side effect? Like what?"
Yohji scoffed. "Come on, Aya, you don't believe those old Dracula stories, do you? Nothing's going to happen to Ken."
Ken swallowed hard, looking quickly from Aya to Yohji. "What? What are you talking about?"
Omi paled slightly. "You mean him turning into.. one of them?"
"What?" Ken squeaked, feeling his stomach lurch.
"Omi," Yohji groaned. "Quit scaring him. Those are just old folk tales."
"What do you mean?" Ken demanded, staring intently at Omi.
Omi squirmed, but it was Aya who spoke. "The old Dracula stories say if you're bitten by a vampire, you die. Too much blood loss."
"But I got a blood transfusion," Ken said quickly.
"Right." Aya looked at him steadily. "So that's out of the picture. What I want to know is..." his eyes bore into Ken, "did you drink any blood?"
Ken made a gagging sound. "Wh-WHAT? Why would I do that?!"
"Did you get any blood in your mouth?" Aya asked impatiently. "And think it was yours?"
Omi looked relieved. At Ken's wild look, he hastily explained. "It's all right, Ken-kun. The stories say that if a vampire drinks your blood and then gives you some of his, you turn into one of them. You're all right. As long as you didn't swallow any blood that might not have been yours."
Yohji stood abruptly, his chair scraping on the floor. He scowled darkly at all of them and stalked angrily out the back door.
"What's wrong with Yohji-kun?" Omi asked, bewildered.
Ken shook his head. "He doesn't want to believe any of this," he said wearily, rubbing at his temple. "I can't blame him- I admit it all sounds pretty whack. I only believe it because I saw the shit first hand."
Aya slid down from the counter and glanced towards Omi. "You had better try to figure out your Gift," he said. "I'm going to talk to Yohji." He left on silent feet.
Omi sighed, taking a seat in Yohji's vacated chair. "I don't know where to begin," he confessed to Ken. "You and Aya-kun figured yours out by accident. What am I supposed to do, walk around and touch random people and hope the thing works by itself?"
Ken tossed the empty powerade bottle in the trashcan. "That's probably the most logical way to start. You want to use me as your first experiment?"
Omi's eyes widened slightly. "Iya," he protested. "You saw what Aya-kun's did! What if mine's just as dangerous?"
Ken hesitated. The boy had a point. "Try touching objects, then, I guess." He walked over and pushed the salt shaker closer to the small assassin. "Touch it and see if you can make your Gift work. You should feel it working."
Omi reached hesitantly for the shaker and picked it up. After a moment he put it back down. "Nothing," he sighed. "I don't feel anything."
Ken picked up the shaker as well, reaching inside for the warm, glowing power hidden somewhere inside of him. His palms didn't tingle, and the power refused to respond. "I guess that's it," he said, setting the shaker back on the table. "Mine won't work either, which makes sense; I'm a Healer, so my Gift only works on people. Maybe yours is the same way." He held out his arm. "Go ahead. If it's dangerous, maybe you can stop it. Like Aya controlled the fire on his arm."
Omi hesitated. "Demo..."
Ken reached out and seized the boy's hand, setting it firmly on his own arm. Omi's eyes widened the instant his palm settled against Ken's skin. He jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned.
Ken stared at him in surprise. "What's wrong?"
Omi held his hand to his chest, staring at Ken's arm with eyes that were a little frightened. "I can't," he squeaked.
Omi shook his head quickly. "It's dangerous," he whispered. "I can feel that much. I can't use this on you, Ken-kun, whatever it is. This.. 'Gift' is an offensive one, not a defensive one."
Ken drew his arm back, frowning. "All right..." Great. How was Omi supposed to test his Gift, now? He sighed, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out," he said, grinning with a confidence he didn't feel. "I'm going to go out and get some bread and juice. I'll be back in a little bit."
"Ah- I'll go with you," Omi proclaimed, getting to his feet.
"Daijabou, Omi, I'm just-"
"No," Omi said firmly. "Not after what happened before. What if They're looking for you? Or worse-- Farfarello."
Ken shuddered a little at the thought. "Fine," he relented. "But if there's any sign of trouble, you get your ass back here to the shop, got it? Don't stop and look back; I'll be right behind you."
Omi laughed a little.
"I'll bring my bugnuks just in case. Tell Aya we're going." He headed upstairs to retrieve his weapons.
"Hai," Omi agreed, and hurried outside, where Yohji was smoking.

When Ken came back downstairs, tugging the sleeves of his jacket over his wrists to partially conceal the claws, Omi was waiting for him at the front of the shop, looking anxious to leave. "They're fighting," he explained briefly, pulling open the door.
"Arguing again?" Ken sighed, following the younger boy outside. He blinked a few times as the sunlight made his eyes water, and waited for his eyes to adjust before starting down the sidewalk beside his young friend. "Those two are hopeless."
"They're just frustrated," Omi said quietly, hands in his pockets. He kicked a rock along as they walked, avoiding eye contact with the people they passed. "This is all a bit much to take in."
"Aa," Ken murmured, trying to get his hand inside his back pocket to retrieve his sunglasses as they turned the corner past the Koneko no Sumu Ie. The bugnuks were getting in his way. "Omi, can you-"
"Ken-kun," Omi gasped, grabbing his sleeve to stop him.
A familiar nasal voice spoke from up ahead, sounding amused. "I knew you'd come slinking out of your little garden shop sooner or later."
Ken looked up sharply, his heart leaping into his throat. "Schwarz!"
Schuldich grinned at them, leaning against a lamp post in the sidewalk ahead. Ken started to lift his arm as if to lunge for the man with his claws, but Omi yanked at his sleeve desperately. "Ken-kun," he hissed.
Ken hesitated, glancing around at the chattering, laughing people walking past them on the sidewalk. He couldn't attack Schuldich in front of all these people. He gritted his teeth and glared at the tall man. "What are you doing here?" he growled.
Schuldich grinned maddeningly, hands thrust in the pockets of his gaudy green trenchcoat. "I see Farf's little 'Fallen One' is up and about."
Ken felt a flush rise to his cheeks for some reason. Fallen One... He had told Farfarello he was a Fallen Angel. Was that what Schuldich was referring to?
"That's right, soccer punk," Schuldich said lightly, and Ken glared at him furiously.
"Stay out of my head!"
"You know, I get so tired of hearing that," Schuldich said with a mock sigh of weariness.
"What do you want?" Omi asked loudly.
Schuldich reached up to flick his hair over his shoulders, grinning widely. "What, can't a guy get a little sun?"
"You shouldn't even be in public in that outfit," Ken retorted.
Schuldich sneered. "Don't quit your day job," he said pityingly. He looked to Omi again. "Just here for a little information.." he murmured, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Omi gasped and reached up instinctively to put his hands to his head.
Schuldich was probing his thoughts-- that meant he would find out about-!
Omi screamed hoarsely and fell to his knees as Schuldich stabbed deeper into his thoughts and memories.
Schuldich's eyes widened slowly, and he stood up straight, staring at them incredulously. "Gifts? What's this, then?" His voice sharpened. "Ryo?"
Ken lunged for him, ignoring the group of giggling girls that were passing, slashing at the German with his bugnuks.
The girls cried out in alarm and fled.
Schuldich dodged nimbly, reach up and snatching both of Ken's wrists in a tight, painful grip. "Not so fast there, numbnuts," he taunted, and Ken could feel the whisper of another mind against his own.
He struggled frantically. "No!"
Then Omi was racing towards them, shouting something.
Schuldich sneered and pushed Ken roughly into the younger teenager. Omi stumbled, one arm wrapping around Ken's shoulders, the other lashing out in an attempt to strike the German.
Schuldich's hand whipped to the side and he seized Omi's wrist, grinning at the both of them. "Nice try, chi--"
Omi twisted his hand and latched onto Schuldich's wrist with his fingers.
Ken gasped from where he was pressed against Omi as he felt a dull THUD reverberate from deep inside of Omi's small body, something unseen rippling outwards in an instant and crashing into Schwarz's Mastermind.
Schuldich's eyes flared wide in shock and sudden fear, then suddenly his grip on Omi went limp.
"Back off," Omi said from behind gritted teeth.
Slowly Schuldich released him and took a step back, eyes blank and devoid of thought.
Ken gaped.
Omi was trembling slightly as he helped to steady Ken, keeping his eyes firmly on the German. His mouth was a thin white line and sweat was beading on his brow. "Go home," he said clearly.
Something in Schuldich's face twisted, as if he was fighting something he could not see, then he turned jerkily and walked off in long strides.
Omi sagged against Ken as soon as the German was out of sight, breathing raggedly. "Shit," he squeaked.
Ken goggled at him, too shocked by Schuldich's retreat to register the fact that Omi had just cursed. "Omi, what the FUCK was that??" he demanded, supporting the younger boy. "What the hell just happened?"
Omi lifted a trembling hand to stare at it, looking a little frightened. "I had control of him," he said quietly. "Only for a minute, but..." He shuddered and lowered his hand quickly. "His mind was very strong. It won't last long. We'd better get back to the shop."
Ken forced himself to swallow his questions and nodded. "Hai. We'll call Manx." He changed his mind. "Birman. We'll call Birman; she'll want to hear about this, and maybe she'll know exactly what you just did."
Omi nodded silently and allowed Ken to lead him back towards the shop. Ken frowned to himself as he thought back to Schuldich's reaction to the information he had gotten from Omi's mind. Of course the German would be surprised at the idea of Weiß having Gifts of their own, but when he had run across Omi's memories of Ryo... The way he had said the name was almost like..
he knew him.


"He WHAT?" Nagi's brows arched incredulously.
"The little fucker told me to go home and I actually turned around and LEFT!" Schuldich was pacing furiously, a dark look twisting his face. Being bested by the smallest of Weiß by what he perceived to be a mind trick had been humiliating, and that infuriated him. He didn't like looking the fool. Crawford lowered his newspaper to stare at the German blandly.
"You said they think they have some kind of Talent?"
"Yeah, and get this shit.." Schuldich waved his arm wildly. "RYO gave it to 'em!"
"Ryo?" Nagi's eyes widened slightly.
Farfarello looked up from struggling with the straightjacket Nagi had just forced on him to watch the German with detatched fascination. Schuldich rarely lost his temper.
"It was like- some kind of power that took over my mind and told me to listen to him," Schuldich snarled, running his hands roughly through his frazzled hair, still pacing. "If that's not a Talent, then I'm Martha Stewart."
"Possession," Crawford said calmly, folding up his paper.
Schuldich turned to glare at him. "What?"
"He's a Possesser," Crawford replied, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the front of his shirt, looking as cool and collected as always. "I've heard of the Talent, though I've never seen one with it for myself. All he has to do is touch you, and with a thought, you're his. If you weren't such a stubborn ass, he could have had control over you for longer than those few minutes."
"And just why are YOU taking all this so calmly?" Schuldich snapped.
Crawford replaced his glasses and looked through them at the irate German. "Ryo told me," he said simply.
Nagi turned his head to stare at him.
Schuldich ground his teeth together. "And just when," he growled through his teeth, "did you plan on telling US this, mister all-knowing?"
"I just did." Crawford rose to his feet, tossing his paper onto the coffee table. "Things are progressing nicely. You say Tsukiyono didn't know what Kudou's Talent is?"
Schuldich struggled to regain his temper. "That's right," he snarled. "Just how many more secrets are you keeping from us, Crawford? You won't even give us any details on this so-called all important 'last mission'."
"All in good time," Crawford replied glibly, walking breezily past.
"Rrrrghh!!" Schuldich grabbed fistfuls of his hair. "I HATE that man!"
Farfarello ignored him, wiggling his arms again in an attempt to break free of his restraints. He didn't want to go to bed. He wanted to go out and Hunt.
"Be still, Farfarello," Nagi murmured, applying slight pressure, stilling the Irishman.
Farfarello glared at him briefly before sitting down abruptly on the couch. "Off," he ordered.
Nagi looked vaguely amused. "No, I don't think so, Farfarello. You're supposed to stay in tonight- Crawford's orders. For just standing by and watching that Vampire suck at Hidaka instead of preventing it. Sorry, Farf."
Farfarello scowled darkly and looked away.
He felt restless, hungry for the bloodlust of the Hunt. He wanted to tear victims apart again. He wanted to make his kinsmen scream.
He wanted to find the Fallen One again and play with him some more.

------ Author's Notes: ehehe... ^^;; For a moment I thought Ken's weapons were called bugnuts. XD hehehehehe.. I'm so easily amused. bug nuts.. hehe...

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