Ch. 24: "Verrat"


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. Any songs from different sources will have a disclaimer at the bottom. Don't sue. =pp
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I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything

[Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul]
{Dont let me die here}(It most be something wrong)
Bring me to life


Farfarello came to a halt in the kitchen doorway, and Ken- half blind anyway -ran smack into him. The Irishman didn't even flinch, and Ken cursed irritably before looking around the man's strong right shoulder to see what had caused him to stop so suddenly.
Schuldich lifted a hand in greeting from where he was drinking coffee at the table with Yohji. "Yo."
"You!" Ken sputtered. "What- how-"
"Not dead," Farfarello observed calmly.
Schuldich smirked. "Thank you for stating the obvious." He touched the light cast on his right arm. "Just a little broken."
Yohji rolled his eyes and took a sip from his coffee.
Ken stared at him accusingly, moving past Farfarello. "How'd you find him?"
"He was-- JESUS, Ken!" Yohji shot to his feet, slopping coffee everywhere. Schuldich cursed in German, leaning back quickly to avoid the hot drink. "What the fuck ha--" He cut off, and turned a murderous glare on Farfarello, who stared calmly back. "You..." He was around the table in a flash. Schuldich had taken in the situation in a glance; he leapt up and restrained the other man as best he could with one arm, laughing cruelly.
"Chill, Kudou, Farfie was just having a little fun."
"FUN??" Yohji practically shouted, still struggling. "His EYE-!"
"What's going on in here?" Aya appeared in the doorway, scowling. His look turned darker when he spotted Schuldich. "What's HE doing here?"
Ken reached up instinctively to cover his wound, but Aya caught the movement. Glancing towards the two tall men struggling, he frowned and strode over, yanking Ken's hand down. Ken uttered a weak protest, then simply stood there and watched the color drain slowly from Aya's face. It was kind of interesting, actually, and he was a little pleased that his teammate would react that way to him being hurt.
Farfarello lost interest and wandered over to inspect the kitchen knives, speaking to Schuldich over his shoulder. "Ich machte ihn nicht blind. Nicht schon."
"Warum taten Sie das? Dumb esel. He says he isn't blind, Kudou," Schuldich translated. "He was careful not to cut the eye. Take a chill pill."
Kudou shoved him roughly, and the German winced at the pressure on his bad arm. He stepped back, giving up, and Yohji strode towards Farfarello, murder in his flashing jade eyes.
The madman turned to face him coolly, toying carelessly with a long butcher knife he'd confiscated from the counter.
Yohji halted, fuming. He spoke from behind gritted teeth. "What the hell did you do to him?"
Farfarello gave him a bland look, and didn't bother to answer.
Aya was already at the sink, holding a clean washcloth under warm water. "Sit down," he told Ken crisply. Ken sat- as far from the German as he could. Schuldich watched him with vague amusement, though his eyes were slightly unfocused. Ken could feel him prodding at his mind, looking through his memories of last night and this morning, but there was no way to stop him, so he merely glowered at the older man. "Knock it off!"
Schuldich chuckled dryly, but Ken could have sworn he saw a flicker of- respect? -in those hooded emerald eyes. But, "You're taking this rather well," was all he said.
Aya ignored the tall man and pulled a chair around to sit in front of Ken. He began carefully cleaning the wound- more thoroughly than Ken had. Ken winced, but held still.
"We need to get him to a doctor," Aya said coldly without looking up.
Yohji was still having a staring contest with Farfarello, and didn't answer.
That was when Omi and Nagi walked into the room, both smiling sleepily, their hair suspiciously ruffled. Chaos ensued.
"Ohay-- KEN-KUN!! What happened??"
"This lunatic attacked him," Yohji accused, jabbing a finger towards Farfarello.
Farfarello licked the blade warningly, watching Aya out of the corner of his eye.
"Maa maa," Schuldich was saying, waving his hand and grinning.
"Daijabou, Omi," Ken started to say meekly.
"Yohji, get these damned Schwarz bastards out of here," Aya snapped.
Nagi bristled. "Hey, watch it--"
"Someone get that knife from this maniac," Yohji growled.
Fafarello was still watching Aya contemplatively, as if he resented the redhead cleaning his "brand" on Ken-- or as if he resented him being near Ken at all. Ken couldn't tell.
"We don't like this alliance thing any more than you do," Nagi was saying hotly.
Aya wasn't listening. "Get them OUT, Yohji."
Yohji scowled. "The one that needs to take a hike is this lunatic-"
"ALL of them."
"Oi," Schuldich protested irritably.
"Schuldich's hurt, Aya," Yohji pointed out in exasperation.
"Ch-chotto," Omi stuttered, looking anxiously around at them all.
Everyone ignored him.
Aya had turned to glare at Yohji. "So he should be in a hospital," he said icily. "Not in our kitchen."
"He WAS in a hospital," Yohji snapped back, eyes flashing. "The vampires were there. They tried to-"
"Where's Crawford?" Nagi demanded.
"No idea," Schuldich admitted.
"What do you mean 'no idea'?" Nagi asked incredulously.
"I was unconscious, chibi," Schuldich informed him, beginning to look extremely irritated. "Get off my back. He can take care of himself."
"But you had to have the enemy rescue you?" Aya pointed out, arching a brow derisively.
Schuldich turned a dark look on the slender man. "Shut your trap, Weiß," he advised quietly.
"We're supposed to be in an alliance, Aya," Yohji reminded him heatedly.
"Everyone-" Omi cried desperately.
"Quiet, runt," Schuldich said dismissively.
"That's enough," said Nagi shortly.
"Don't 'that's enough' me," Schuldich shot back. "You're the one who's acting like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Speaking of which, whose bed DID you wake up in, chibi?"
Omi flushed crimson. Nagi turned red with rage. "Shut up, Schuldich!" he practically shouted.
Farfarello chose that moment to head for Aya, knife still in hand.
Yohji moved quickly to intercept him.
"I wouldn't do that," Schuldich said quietly, looking darkly amused. "He can dance."
"What does dancing have to do-" Yohji started angrily.
Farfarello whirled quicker than thought, the blade in his hand a blur of flashing steel. He'd pinned Yohji to the fridge in the blink of an eye, the razor sharp blade pressed to his throat, his free hand twisting Yohji's arm behind his back cruelly. Yohji gurgled in shock and froze. So did everyone else.
"The Dance of Death," Schuldich murmured in the sudden silence, eyes glittering with hidden laughter.
There was another long moment of tense silence, then Ken cleared his throat. "If you're all done bickering like grade schoolers, I'd like to go to the hospital," he said levelly.
The door opened just then, and Birman stepped into the kitchen. She blinked in surprise, taking in the scene with wide eyes. "Um.. Am I interrupting something?"
They all looked helplessly at her. Slowly Farfarello released Yohji and stepped back, flicking the blade almost carelessly aside. It landed by Aya's foot, quivering point-down in the floor. Aya didn't even flinch. He met the Irishman's one-eyed stare coldly. "That's mine," Farfarello informed him calmly, referring to Ken.
"Waitaminnit," Yohji interrupted, watching Farfarello warily. "Why didn't you just Heal your eye, Ken?"
Schuldich spoke up drolly, plucking the information idly from Ken's mind before he could answer. "Farfie said he'd chop off his hands if he did." He laughed.
In a sudden rush of frustration and temper, Ken snatched the knife from the floorboards and hurled it at the scarred man. Farfarello didn't so much as blink as the blade clattered harmlessly off of the fridge, inches from his face.
Schuldich looked amused. Weiß did not. Nagi was still glaring at the German.
Birman cleared her throat. "Well, then," she said briskly, "I guess we'd better get you to a hospital, Siberian. I don't think the Berserker makes idle threats." She gestured, and Ken rose wearily to his feet. "In the meantime," she continued, flicking a glance at them all, "please try not to kill each other while we're gone. Manx should be by soon to give you some more information and orders."
Nagi finally composed himself, and the knife slid across the floor to him. He bent to retrieve it, and tossed it in an underhanded gesture to Schuldich, who caught it deftly. "You'd better keep your knives somewhere Farfarello can't find them," he informed Omi calmly.
Omi nodded mutely, avoiding looking at anyone after Schuldich's snide question.
Farfarello silently headed for the door, brushing past Ken and Birman. Ken reached out without thinking, snagging a finger in the black leather collar the Irishman was wearing. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.
Schuldich made a strange noise from behind him, of mingled amusement and surprise. The others seemed equally startled by his boldness.
Farfarello barely glanced at him.
"He says he has something to attend to," Schuldich passed along. "He doesn't talk out loud unless he wants to," he explained when Yohji shot him a questioning look.
Ken glanced at Schuldich, then back at Farfarello, blinking his good eye. The nutcase certainly talked to him enough...
Or at least when they were alone.
He released the collar, and Farfarello disappeared on silent feet without a backward look. "Come on, Siberian," Birman said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll need stitches-- that's a pretty nasty cut."
"Cut?" Ken snorted.
"It doesn't look like he got the actual eye," Birman said with a shrug.
"Then why won't he let him Heal it?" Aya demanded.
But Ken had a pretty good idea why.
Farfarello wanted him to have a scar there. A scar over his left eye- the same eye Farfarello was missing.
It was his "brand"-- his mark of ownership.

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How strange.
What was she doing in a hospital bed?
The young woman looked around as if in a daze, taking in the small room and its white walls; the metal chair by the bed; the IV in her arm; the barred window.
Who would bar a hospital window?
The nurse by her bed was asking her questions, but she didn't know the answers.
Do you know the man who brought you here? He had an eyepatch, and a lot of scars.
Never seen him before. She wracked her memory. A man with an eyepatch... Her mind came up blank.
How long have you been unconscious? What happened?
Shouldn't the nurse know all this? I don't know, she responded, I don't know. She felt dizzy- disoriented. She had the sneaking suspicion that she had been out for more than just a day. Perhaps a few days? A week, even. She reached up tentatively to touch her head, feeling the scar under her hair. It had scarred- and didn't hurt. She felt uneasiness stir inside of her. Was this what had put her in the hospital? To give it time to heal, to smooth into a scar would take some time...
What's your name? the nurse was asking her.
She opened her mouth automatically to answer, and suddenly realized she didn't know the answer to that, either. She blinked, and shook her head helplessly. I don't remember.
I don't remember...
anything.
Fear began to uncoil in her, hot and nervous, and she swallowed hard, trying to fight it. Her name, her age, her address... Nothing. Her mind was a vast sea of confusion and befuddlement, flickering images- memories? -dancing just out of reach. Someone...
Someone with crimson hair, yelling.
Was he yelling at her? Perhaps he was the man who had hurt her?
Something gold- and dangling. Glittering when she held them up. Something she desired...
The nurse jumped then, giving a little exclamation, and she turned her head to look at the man who had entered the room, silent as a burgler.
Pale, pale skin, riddled with scars. Full lips, a shock of white hair, white clothing, black collar. Black eyepatch covering his left eye.
She stared, knowing it was rude, but unable to look away. She pushed away her initial horror fiercely. The nurse had said this was the man who had brought her here. He had to be a friend. She couldn't let him see her instinctive fear and revulsion. It wasn't so much that he was hideous, really, she admitted to herself. Just creepy.
He was watching her with a single amber eye, his face emotionless, and she managed a weak smile.
"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse was stammering, "but the.. patient seems to have amnesia. It may be temporary," she said quickly when that unnerving gaze shifted to her. "She doesn't seem to remember anything, not even her name-"
The scarred man looked back to the girl on his bed, his voice accented. "You remember?" he asked shortly. "Your brother?"
She stared at him uncomprehendingly, then suddenly felt sick with guilt. Oh god, her brother. Was she talking to her own BROTHER? She had a brother? "G-gomen," she started to stammer, anguished, but the strange man gave a fleeting, almost chilling smile.
"Verrat," he said. "She is Verrat."
The girl felt relief at the words. A name. She had a name now. Good. That was something. It was frightening, not knowing what to call herself, not knowing who she was. "A-aa," she said hesitantly, still watching him. "Dare da?"
"This is Farfarello," the nurse told her, but quailed at a glance from the man.
"Fah-fa-re-ro," Verrat tried the strange name.
"You'll learn," Farfarello said briefly, and Verrat felt relief. This man- he seemed brisk, a little strange, but at least he was giving her answers. And encouragement. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, feeling stupid, "but... I don't remember you."
Farfarello gave another one of his almost-creepy smiles, and his golden eye was lit with a bright light that Verrat assumed was joy at her recovery, blind to the cruel triumph in that cold face. "Your brother, Verrat," Farfarello told her patiently. "I am your brother."

'Verrat' beamed at him in shy happiness, and Farfarello laughed mentally.
Perhaps the girl would be more fun alive than dead, after all.
Oh, Aya, just you wait and see.
This is it-- the blow you will never recover from.
She is mine, now.


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Translations: Ich machte ihn nicht blind. Nicht schon.-- I didn't blind him. Not yet/Not already.
Warum taten Sie das? Dumb esel.-- Why did you do that? Dumbass.
Disclaimer: Lyrics from Evanescence's "Bring Me to Life"


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