Youji\'s Daughter

Aya's Daughter

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I don't own Wk, alas, and my candidate didn't win.

Aya hated Taketori, the whole line. Youji's nightmares didn't seem to wake the blond, but they woke Aya, three nights out of seven. One arm under Youji's neck, he combed his fingers through Youji's hair soothingly.ji sji slept then, still shivering, held safe in Aya's arm, even as the child slept within Youji's body. Sleep had abandoned Aya though, leaving him as finally as if night never had been.

They slept with the light on these days, a faint warm glow layering shadows over Youji's swollen belly and the dark scar that trailed down pale flesh like the mark of vengeance failed. Aya wished there wasn't light, wished he didn't have to see the mark of another man's hands on his beloved. The light was what drove Aya's sleep away and filled him with his own swelling, deforming rage.

Of all the people Aya had known, Youji was the only one that Aya had touched intimately, the only one who he shared his decadent and disgustingly poetic side with. Youji seemed to blossom and purr under the poetry Aya hide away, and Youji's response made the flowery words and romantic nonsense feel acceptable, made Aya not feel like such a waste of inner personal space. And now, he lay next to his beloved, hating that scar, the dark jagged rip in the perfect flesh of Youji's body.

Youji had known many lovers before he'd been with Aya. Aya knew this. Aya didn't like it, but since they'd been together, since Youji had nearly died. Since he'd promised that Aya would be the only one that he would remember, when he got his memories back, Aya had counted his lover as a virgin, as pure and untouched, and now, secretly laying there holding the nightmares away from his love, Aya hated his lover too.

No one had really spoken it, really come out and stated that Taketori had raped Youji. But he had. It hadn't been his ass or his mouth, no Taketori had made his own opening and shoved his seed into the deflessless body. Aya hated the life growing within Youji, the small, defenseless little Taketori growing within the person Aya loved more than life itself. And Aya hated himself.

Youji loved this child so much that a life that had been gone from Youji's eyes for so long that even Aya had never seen it before, was not returning. This life and hope made Youji's eyes dance with light and lifted his lips in smiles so often now. There was always a quick joke and a kind word and Aya almost didn't know his lover anymore. Sometimes he felt too dark and steeped in blood and hate to even touch this cheerful, playful Youji. It was the nightmares, really, that made him stay. It was the nightmares that spoke for the darkness in Youji still.

And really, Aya knew he wasn't good enough to leave Youji even if Youji were some sweet detective boy now. His mind drifted to how Youji had cried when he'd remembered how he'd gotten the head injury that had given him amnesia, how he'd slipped into a depression that only Aya had been able to pull him out of. Youji didn't like death. Aya had come to be all about death. He'd never have a child to redeme him, never find this light that was in Youji.

Youji turned in his sleep, one hand slipping under the thin tee-shirt that Aya wore. With a soft, pleased moan, he slipped back into sleep, and Aya smiled a vicious protective smile. He was not prepared to share Youji with anyone, not this child, not Omi, not anyone.

Omi was a concern, had been a growing concern since they'd come to the medical center. The younger man was kinder to Youji, he was cheerful and in the days he made Youji smile. Aya had watched them together, watched Youji play cards or argue about music with Omi. It made Aya remember that Omi was a Taketori.

Aya almost feared the darkness growing within him, the isolation and rage. Youji had someone that Aya could never touch or really share. The shivering started then and Aya drew Youji closer to ward off the nightmare.

"Hurts," Youji whispered.

"What hurts, Youji," Aya asked, concern whiting out the anger and jealousy, "What hurts?"

"Hurts," Youji whispered, sweat beading up on his forehead, over his back as Aya pulled him close. "Aya, the baby, Aya."

"Shhh," Aya said, afraid. It wasn't like anything was expected with this pregnancy. "I'll call the doctor."

Panting started as Aya moved up to h thh the call bell. He'd never slept in a bed with a call bell before, like a glorified high tech hospital.

Aya pulled the cord. "We need assistance."

Only static replied, and Aya gave the cord another pull. "Now."

The lights came on, harsh florescent lighting, and then Aya could see the faint blueish tint to Youji's lips. The cord cut into his fingers as he pulled the cord harder, "We need help!"

"Yes, Fujimiya-san," Youji's doctor said as she glided into the room, not looking at all as if they'd just woken her in the middle of the night. "What has happened?"

"He's in pain," Aya said, sitting up. He would have been mortified to know that she saw him as a very young man, tousled red hair, worn tee-shirt, just a scared family member, not at all the killer he saw himself as. "His circulation is not good."

The doctor, an older Hindi woman with no Brahman mark took Youji's wrist, counting his pulse calmly. "I see. Kudou-san, how do you feel? Do you feel sharp pains? Did they come on suddenly?"

"Yes," Youji nearly whined. "Save baby."

"The baby is not in danger at the moment," Dr. Ravel said calmly. "Fujimiya-san, can you carry Kudou-san to the lab?"

"I'll walk," Youji wheezed.

"Shut up," Aya snapped. It had been an on going battle, between Dr. Ravel and Aya and Aya and Youji. Youji always wanted to walk. Dr. Ravel always wanted Youji on something with wheels. Aya always carried Youji.

"This time you should not walk, Kudou-san. The pain will increase."

"Just fucking great," he hissed, not moving as Aya threw the covers off.

Aya wore a ratty old Gackt tee-shirt that he'd nicked from Youji and some cotton pajama bottoms. Youji wore matching bottoms and no top.

So many times Aya had carried Youji before this event in their lives and usually it had been something involving sex. As Aya slipped his arm under Youji's knees, another under his back, he wished with all his heart that this baby could have been his, could have been some kind of union between their bodies and loves. And he knew it wasn't. The baby would be living proof that they would never fully join.

As the dark feelings he whispered oujiouji’s ear, "When we get back, you'll feel better and I'm going to screw you senseless."

It wasn't the most romantic thing Aya had ever said, but it comforted Youji, chased the fears away from him so that he settled into Aya's arms with a small sigh, fist holding Aya's tee-shirt. "Hell no, my turn," Youji whispered back.

If they'd make love or not, threatening each other with it was like some primal Weiss mating ritual.

Dr. Ravel held the door for them and they all traveled down the dimly lit hall towards. As Aya walked, he even hated the feel of the cool linoleum under his feet. His thoughts cycled between worry and sorrow over the shivering man in his arms, wanting to make love to said shivering man, and wanting to annihilate the world.

Youji wouldn't be sick if they could have laid hands on Taketori Masafumi. The drugs that Taketori's goon had delivered to the Koneko had been laced with nanite tracing devices and Youji had refused to take them. Taketori had not sent more. Dr. Ravel had created her own soup of support hormones and anti-rejection drugs. It had helped. Youji had gained weight, the baby seemed small, but healthy, developing.

The sonogram had amazed Aya. He set Youji down in Youji's least favorite chair. "Do you remember the sonogram? Do you remember seeing her head and arm?"

Youji's eyes had glazed over, a shock that Aya didn't understand coming on so quickly. "She's beautiful. We'll call her Aya."

A red eyebrow shot up and one eye twitched. "She's going to beautiful like you." A flash of light caught Aya's attention. "Oh my god, what?"

Dr. Ravel glared. She'd put on gloves, a clean scrub smock and in her hand she held a needle that could have been a little cousin to Aya's katana. "I need a sample of amniotic fluid."

Youji's eyes followed Aya's and he grabbed the arms of the chair to push himself up. "No! I'm keeping the baby."

"Sit down!" She barked. "I am not going to hurt your baby! I just need a fluid sample."

The fluid sample was obtained with glares all around. She disappeared into the shadowy half of the lab.

After her jab, Youji wasn't really in the mood to go anywhere. Aya slowly melted over until his head lay in Youji's lap. "We are a mess," Aya whispered against Youji's sweat dampened pajama leg.

"No, baby, we're okay." Youji’s hand shook as he caressed Aya’s hair, “Marry me?”

The offer was so… genuine sounding to Aya. Youji’s other hand shook as he reached for Aya’s face. “Don’t cry, Aya, shit. You don’t have to, you know.”

“No,” Aya said, drawing Youji’s fingers to where he could kiss them. Those finger tips were so hot, feverish, “I want to marry you. Can the baby be part mine? Can I adopt?”

After a moment of silence, Aya lifted his head, “Youji?”

“Owww, Aya you will help me,” Youji said, voice soft as a misty dawn, “She’s your daughter too.”

Aya reached out, laying his hand gently on Youji’s feverish belly. “My daughter too. Yes. Do you wish you were laying your hand on Asuka’s stomach instead? Do you wish she was here?”

“I wish I was carrying your baby,” Youji said, hand over Aya’s. “I wish it didn’t hurt so fucking badly.”

“You’d carry my baby?” Aya asked.

“I want a cigarette. Can’t you smoke one and then kiss me? Please?”

“No smoke,” Dr. Ravel said, coming back, syringe in hand. “And I have found the reason why the serum was not working.”

“Why is that,” Aya demanded, sitting up straight, looking distant and professional.

“We made the assumption that if it was Asuke’s womb, that the fetus would carry Asuke’s and Kudou-san’s genetic material. So that was how we derived the anti-rejection drugs and the hormone levels. The fetus has been causing problems, however, because while the womb is cloned from Asuke’s genetic material, the fetus carries Kudou and Fujimiya genetic inheritance. It’s your baby, Fujimiya-san.”

Youji started as the needle entered his hand, sliding neatly into a vein. Aya wanted to reach out to him, comfort him, but he couldn’t get his own hand to move. His baby. The life in Youji was part of Aya too. Dr. Ravel wouldn’t lie. Youji reached out to him, but somehow Youji was moving back and up. Aya liked it really when Youji was cursing, made him smile, but fuck the floor was hard.

“Aya! Aya!” Youji’s voice called, but so very distant. “Aya! That’s not funny!”