Paradise Lost Part 9: Paradise Awakening

Nagi hadn't moved from the spot in hours, remaining faithfully at Omi's bedside while the boy slept on. As Omi lay dreaming, Nagi stared at the peaceful expression, and dared to think again of the joy he might find when the boy awoke and they could be together again.

The danger was past with Omi, supposedly. His condition had stabilized and despite a concussion, blood loss, and a very bruised body, it looked like he would be okay. Nagi had saved his life after all. Though he hadn't been fast enough to prevent Omi from being hit, he had successfully kept the boy from almost all harm caused by impact from the car. Most of Omi's injuries were sustained when he was thrown forward. He would be okay, he would wake up soon, Nagi told himself. Until then, the beautiful dark-haired boy was content to wait and watch for any changes for better or worse in Omi's condition. He wanted to be sure he would notice if something went wrong, and he definitely wanted to be there when Omi woke up. Nagi so desperately wanted to see those long lashes flicker open to reveal the soulful ocean-blue eyes he longed to see... Wanted to be the first thing that Omi saw when he woke up...

Nagi stared intently at the resting body curled up. Omi had been tossing and turning a lot, moaning in his sleep and clutching at the sheets, so Nagi had dug his old teddy bear out of the closet for him to hold on to. Omi had clung to the stuffed toy tightly at first, his brow furrowed, but finally he'd mumbled something that sounded like "Ai-k'n" and settled down to curling up, arms wrapped around the teddy tenderly, his face finally relaxing into a peaceful slumber. He looked like an angel when he slept, Nagi thought to himself. Somehow even snuggling with a teddy bear Omi seemed like a very deep and passionate figure... Flawless, beautiful, untouchable... Nagi leaned forward and reached for Omi's hand which was holding the bear.

//If I profane with my unworthiest hand...// he thought to himself distantly. He'd been reading his copy of "Romeo and Juliet" again (in the original English!) while waiting at Omi's bedside, and somehow lines from the play always came to mind when he was with Omi. Maybe the idea of the star-crossed lovers seemed familiar. Instead of the two families, Montague and Capulet, it was their different clans Weiß and Schwarz, but the end result was the same. Destiny seemed against them being together. Would their end be the same as well? Nagi shook his head against the thought. No. He had Omi now. Somehow he'd get the boy to understand who he was and how he felt; somehow things would work out... Maybe Omi would quit Weiß...

Nagi tentatively took Omi's smooth, graceful fingers in his own. The warmth of a human touch... That's what Nagi had been missing and never even knew it. Now he had the one he loved right here and now... He felt blessed for the first time. Watching the slightly parted lips breathing gently, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to press his own lips against them. He knew the kiss would be softer and sweeter than rose petals and as the distant thought became an undeniable desire, Nagi leaned forward to steal a kiss from the sleeping boy. Nagi had closed his eyes, his mouth a breath away from Omi's when the door slammed open unceremoniously and Schuldip strode in. Nagi jumped back guiltily and quickly tried to look casual by throwing his book open and leaning back in his chair.

"Yo," Schuldip muttered casually and flicked a stray lock of green hair over his shoulder. "I brought you something, bishonen." He waved a bunch of portfolios in the air over his head.

"What is it?" Nagi asked dispassionately, setting the book down.

Schuldip regarded the thick volume (in the original English!) with undisguised disgust. "You still read that crap? Here." Schuldip tossed the folders to Nagi carelessly, "This is some _real_ reading material you may want to catch up on."

Nagi opened the top folder marked "confidential" and saw a thin stack of papers with a photograph paper clipped to the front. It was a picture of Omi looking especially menacing, with rage and concentration etched across his face as he was firing his crossbow with murderous intent. It was strange to see his sweet Omi looking like that. But after dealing with Schwarz for so long, he didn't find the picture very distressing. His friends kill people. That's the way it works. The rest of the papers gave his statistics and background information. Nagi began to read.

"Look through those later," Schuldip suggested impatiently, "Check out the second folder..."

Nagi reluctantly closed the story of Omi's life and opened up the second file. "Fujimiya Aya," he read on the top. He turned to the photograph and his eyes widened in disbelief. It was the same man who'd hit Omi. "This is--!" he gasped.

Schuldip smiled at the reaction. "Yep. The unofficial leader of Weiß as well as Omi's almost killer. Bad luck for this guy, huh?" He pointed to Omi's sleeping figure. Despite the teddy to hold on to, Omi was beginning to writhe and groan in his sleep again. Perhaps due to the psychic's close proximity. "I'll bet the kid'll be really easy to implant 'suggestions' into when he wakes up. He'll probably already be inclined to turn his back on his friends after one of them nearly killed him..."

"Wait!" Nagi interrupted, " 'Implant suggestions' did you say? I thought you were going to ask me before you mess with Omi's head. I want you to leave him the way he is. I just know we can get him to join us without having to mess with his memories... And if he joins voluntarily, his loyalty will be much more stable!" Nagi tried to keep the desperation from creeping into his voice. He tried to make leaving Omi alone sound more like a wise war tactic instead of just being defensive of his lover's well-being.

"Honestly, Nagi, even if I couldn't read your mind I could tell that it's more about how you feel about the kid," Schu said, shaking his head. "Trust me, the second he realizes who you really are, he'll just try to kill you like any of those other Weiß fools would. Don't take a chance like that. Let me brain wash him and alter his memories a little and he'll be all yours, worry free."

Nagi shook his head. "Please. Just let me try to talk to him first. I know I can get him to see..."

"It's your funeral," Schu said uncaringly, "But you know Omi is already in love with some one else, don't you?" He walked out the door and closed it behind him before Nagi could reply.

"What?" Nagi exclaimed. < It must be a lie> the dark-haired young man told himself, "Wake up, Omi..." Nagi whispered. "I'm right here and I love you... Your own friends have done this to you, but you know I would never leave your side..." Nagi leaned over Omi's restless figure and brought his lips close again, hoping to wake his sleeping prince with a kiss.

"Wake up and be with me and I'll do anything for you... I promise. Just open your eyes..." Just as Nagi brought his lips near, Omi stirred.

"Aya-kun..." the sleeping boy whispered adoringly and buried his face in the bear. Nagi turned away, moments from the kiss, and returned to reading about Omi's past.

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It was another three hours before Omi awoke. Nagi had been reading Omi's file and reveling, amazed, at how similar their pasts were, and how Omi could have endured such tragedy but still become such a cheerful and caring individual. Nagi noticed the instant the eyes squinted extra tightly shut, then fluttered open. "Omi!!" Nagi gasped in joy and relief, hastily hiding the assassins' files under a desk.

"N-- Nagi-san?" Omi choked out and then coughed. He winced visibly as the pain of the sudden motion sank in. "Oh, God! My head..." he gasped.

Nagi's eyes were damp for a moment with tears of joy. "Are you all right? Just lay still! You've been hit on the head pretty hard..." Nagi said all at once. He was never one to say very much, but somehow that all changed when he was with Omi. Now he just didn't know what to say first. They were finally together again in an amiable situation for the first time since the park.

"Where am I? I don't remember..." Omi began and then fell silent. "Oh," he whispered lowly. Suddenly his expression looked pained even though he was keeping his head still this time.

"You're at my house," Nagi said soothingly, "Everything's fine. How do you feel?"

Omi thought about it for a minute, flexing his muscles and moving his joints to check to see if everything was in working order. "Just my head... Hurts to move it at all. I feel so weak and lightheaded... But I think I'll be okay."

Nagi smiled. "Let me help you sit up, I can give you come pain killers for your head..." the young man suggested as he gave Omi a shoulder to lean on. He helped Omi swallow the pills with a glass of water he'd already left waiting next to his book on the little table by the bed.

Omi shot Nagi an appreciative, but disoriented look, and returned to looking wounded and concerned. "Nagi... Why am I here instead of... My friends-- The man who hit me--! Did he... Am I...?" Omi pressed a hand against his forehead. Whether trying to hold back physical or mental agony, Nagi couldn't guess.

"Your friend told me to take you," Nagi said quickly. He'd learned to lie very well from his time spent with Schwartz.

"Oh..." Omi said with tragic disappointment in his voice, "I see..." He turned his face to the wall so Nagi couldn't see his expression.

"But you're all right! You're here with me and everything's going to be just fine," Nagi said reassuringly. He was thinking of how many ways he wanted to make Aya suffer for his sins.

Omi smiled faintly and painfully and turned to face Nagi again. "Gome... Please don't think I'm ungrateful, I just--" He was interrupted as the door slammed open and Schuldip strode in.

"Excellent, Nagi, I see your little boyfriend woke up," he said with his usual mocking lopsided grin.

"*Schuldip!!* What are you doing?!" Nagi exclaimed in a panic. Now Omi would know the truth! He whirled to face his lover and saw the shock and fear mixed with betrayal on Omi's face.

"You--!" Omi gasped at Nagi, realizing who he really was at last. The dark-haired Schwartz member could see in Omi's eyes that what he meant to say was, <"You sold me out...! You traitor!">

Nagi was just about to protest his innocence, but Omi moved fast as lightening and seized up the first heavy object he could get his hands. Schuldip was slammed in the face with the thick Shakespearean book (in the original English!) as Omi threw it across the room with the exact aim one could expect from a projectiles expert. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and started to run for the door, pushing past Nagi's dumbfounded figure and the wounded Schuldip who was cradling his nose.

Nagi was about to use his powers to try to stop him, when Omi suddenly stopped on his own. The boy's lithe body began to sway precariously and he put a hand on the foot of the bed to steady himself. In a moment, though, the Weiß assassin had fallen to his knees, then collapsed on the floor. His lips had gone white and his eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttering and then the boy fainted on the floor.

"Omi! Are you okay?" Nagi gathered the unconscious boy in his arms once again, cradling his head worriedly.

"Little f***er..." Schu muttered angrily wiping the blood from his nose. He regarded Nagi's concerned look and rolled his eyes in disgust. "Oh, come on! He'll be fine! He's just quarts low on blood and is trying to jump up and run around. Of course he got a head rush and passed out..." Nagi said nothing but picked up the limp boy and lay him back into bed, tucking him in again. "But I hope you realize now that that brat is *never* going to accept you for who you are..."

"If *you* hadn't come barging in the room--!" Nagi protested.

Schu raised a hand as if to strike his teammate. "Don't be a fool! Stop kidding yourself! You know as well as I that this would be the end result no matter what you did. He thinks of you as the enemy, nothing more." Nagi lowered his head in silent acknowledgment. "Do you see now what must be done?"

Nagi looked to the unconscious form in his bed. The color was just starting to return to his face. He wanted this boy more than anything. He knew only rejection lay in store if nothing was done. Even after all he had suffered, Omi would still rather run back to his treacherous friends, than stay in the arms of someone who loved him, but who was cursed to be labeled as an enemy. He knew what must be done. He would make Omi his at any cost. "Do it," he whispered with the finality of one who had just sold his soul.

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Aya surveyed the dreamscape fearfully. Despite his facade, he hated being alone. There was nothing around for miles, but flat expanses of scorched earth and his heart began to pound in fear. Suddenly a clanging sound of hammering could be heard and he turned around to suddenly see two figures where a moment ago there had been nothing but barren wasteland. There was one figure in robes, dark and twisted with a crude hammer and nails in hand. The other figure was naked and bleeding, nailed to a cross by the robed figure. The figure on the cross was a boy. With sandy blonde hair. The blood that ran into his eyes could not mask the dazzling blue. It was Omi. The other man pounded the nails relentlessly into his feet, his wrists. The martyred Omi should have been screaming in agony with each cruel stroke. That would have made the scene more bearable to watch. But he didn't scream. He never cried out, but took each cruel blow with divine patience. He looked sadly at the man who nailed him there without a single cry for mercy, and the echoing clang of the hammer on wood and iron pegs was the only sound.

Aya thought, but his voice was gone as was his ability to move. It was as though he wasn't even there, he could only watch in mortification.

Omi's battered chest began to heave its last few breaths as the blood ran freely and he slowly asphyxiated on the cross, unable to draw a breath without gouging himself on the impaling iron nails. He was about to die.

Aya felt the tears run down like warm blood as he watched helplessly, when suddenly he could see a light shining down in one focused ray from above as if God himself was coming down to save the young boy. Not God, he realized, but a messenger... Out of the blinding white emerged a blindingly pristine figure. It was a slender dark-haired boy with an angelic face and flawless figure, clad in humble robes, but with immense wings sprouting from his back which were so blindingly white and pure, it hurt Aya's eyes to look at them. The dying figure looked up at the angel in white and the pain lifted from his face. The Nagi seraph raised a hand and the nails fell without a sound from the cross. He then gathered the tortured boy lovingly in his arms, claiming him as his own. Not a word was exchanged, but Omi's wounds were healed with nothing more than a tender caress, and the Nagi angel cradled Omi's face gently next to his own tenderly.

The angel began to lift the unprotesting Omi back upward to the light and the dark, robed figure cried out in anguish at having his treasure stolen. A wind stirred the hair of angel and mortal and demon alike, growing in intensity until the boys had disappeared into the light and the hood of the twisted black creature was blown back to reveal fiery red hair and one long gold earring which surrounded the demon's eyes of deepest violet...

* * *

Aya woke up from the nightmare unable to catch his breath, his throat burning. "Aya!" he heard Ken's voice exclaim in surprise and relief. "Aya!" chorused Yohji in his deeper voice. The redhead choked, and finally drew in a painful ragged breath, the dream still fresh in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he'd wanted to die more.

He was surrounded by mocking, sterile walls of a city hospital, feeling ridiculously weak, tucked into bed like an infant wearing nothing but paper slippers and a hospital gown. A machine was beeping monotonously at his side. He hated that sound. It reminded him that he was alive. And that he didn't know if Omi was. That Schwarz boy... "Aya. What happened? Where is Omi?" Yohji demanded, getting straight to the point. The older man was wise enough to know that Aya would not be in the mood for sympathy or Hallmark cards, but would have wanted him to get straight to the point.

Aya did. He ripped the I.V. from his arm and got out of bed as quickly as he could, trying to hide the weakness in his unsteady legs, and fight the rush of lightheadedness that came from standing so quickly. He felt the air conditioning then rush against his naked back and buttocks and realized with further degradation, that he was not even decent in the hospital gown. "My clothes?"

"The nurse has them in the other room," Ken said with annoyance, then pressed the important issue, "What *happened*?"

"Yohji. Your jacket," was all Aya said.

Yohji knew better than to argue, and removed his long blue trench coat and handed it to Aya who promptly put it on to make himself decent. "My sword?"

"Back at the flower shop where you left it! *What's going ON, Aya?!*" Ken raised his voice in anger at Aya's stubborn refusal to explain the situation to his teammates.

Aya knew he had to get out soon. Omi might not have much time left... If he wasn't too late already... Aya felt in the pockets of the jacket Yohji had given him. The car keys were still there. Aya knew that he couldn't do it. His heart was suddenly racing, pounding with adrenaline of fear at the mere thought of getting behind the wheel again...

Without saying anything, Aya threw the keys to Ken, who reflexively caught them. In his moment of distraction, Aya snaked a hand out and snatched the keys to Ken's motorcycle from the pocket of his leather jacket. "Hey!" Ken protested, and moved to snatch them back and demand more answers, but Aya gave him a shove without cruel intent, but hard enough to send him crashing into the I.V. stand and back into Yohji's chest. The older man made no movement to stop either of them. Aya ran out the door, tearing off the paper slippers and running down the immaculate tile hospital corridors in bare feet, long blue cloak flapping behind him.

He would could drive the bike. He had to. Aya thought to himself as he ran out the hospital front doors in his poorly-concealed hospital gown. There were a few protesting, "Hey!"s but no one could react in time before he was out in the street and sprinting towards Ken's waiting motorcycle. Aya meant to rescue Omi and make up for his sins... But why was he rescuing someone... from an angel in white...?

Somewhere, Nagi was squeezing Omi's hand apprehensively as the boy's eyes fluttered open once more.

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