Aya folded up the review, and put it back in his pocket. “This is what I think. For starters, where did all this Prissy Princess stuff come from? So I know how to apply makeup! Big deal! I have a little sister that I’m close to, I used to help her with her make up when she wasn’t in a coma-”

“Right Aya. You’re so close to her you divert money from her life support funds to your super shiny car.” eMu noted dryly from the sidelines. Aya fixed one of his shi-ne glares on her, earning him a smirk. “Listen Aya, fact is most redheads have freckles.”

“So? There are plenty who don’t.” Aya said defensively.

“Chikin?” eMu asked.

“Aye Aye cap-i-tain!” Chikin giggled, then turned on the fire hose. Aya was sprayed against the wall, and after he was doused for a few minutes Chikin turned off the hose.

His makeup was running all over. eMu tossed him a towel, and once he wiped off the drippy concealer it was revealed that firstly, Aya’s natural skin tone was a bit darker than the living-dead-white he made it out to be with his makeup. Secondly, he had loads of freckles, and thirdly, there was a cross shaped scar on his cheek.

“I knew it! I knew there were only so many red haired violet eyed swordsmen!” Chikin exclaimed.

Aya covered his face with his hands and ran from the room. He came back a few minutes later looking like his normal self and holding his katana menacingly. eMu snapped her fingers and the katana was transformed into a giant fish Dogma style.

Aya glared, Chikin stuck her tongue out, and then Aya remembered the review and ignored his ficcie Goddesses in favor of the readers.

“So, we’ll ignore the Prissy Princess comment for now. And, as for me being the uke. Come on! Ken’s a wussy little crybaby! I’m way tougher than he is. He gets all, ‘oh no I had to kill my best friend, wah wah wah’ on us and even tried to run off with some girl who was all over him, but he was too much of a wuss to fu-”

“Aya, watch what you’re saying about your future boyfriend there.” eMu spoke up smugly.

“What are you talking about?” Aya practically growled.

“Take a look around at your options. If you want to go with anyone, I do suggest Ken.” eMu elaborated.

Aya glanced around and caught sight of Omi and Nagi holding hands and being cutesy. Then he saw Yohji and Schuldig awkwardly and against their wills gravitating towards each other. He then spied Crawford, whom Aya mistakenly believed was older than his father, and Farfarello, who was carving a game of tick tack toe into his forearm.

“There’s always them too!” Chikin squealed, pointing to the other side of the room, where the Weiss women were gathered. Shrient, Sakura, Ouka, Momoe and the flower shop fangirls. All the most annoying portrayals of femininity imaginable.

Aya shuddered, and then noticed Ken approaching him. He glanced from Momoe back to Ken again.

“Gee Aya, why does Fred Flinstone order the ribs every week when he knows they’re going to tip the car over? Narf!” Ken exclaimed.

Aya was once again staring between Momoe and Ken, deep in thought.

Aya smacked a hand to his forehead, but when he looked up again he was much more calm.

“Cute and dumb. There are worse combinations, I suppose. C’mon Ken, let’s go to the storage closet.”

“What’s in there Aya?”

“It’s dark and private in there Ken.”

“Ooo…are we gonna tell ghost stories? I’ll go get a flash light so we can make our faces all spooky!”

“Right. Ghost stories. Enjoy the fic.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So…you’re saying I have to finish the yacht club mission alone?” Omi asked, a very displeased look on his face.

“Yeah. Because apparently me and Aya can’t show our faces in there ever again, but I don’t really see what the big deal is.” Ken whined. He didn’t want to lose out on the pay of the yacht club mission. But Aya was damned scary when he wanted to be and Ken wasn’t going against that either. Then Ken thought of something. “Maybe Yohji can help you!”

“Yohji’s in the hospital Ken. Remember? He got run over. You were there.” Omi reminded Ken.

“Oh right. I wonder how he’s doing.”

On cue the phone rang so that the nurse could inform them Yohji had overdosed on morphine and was in a coma, which they optimistically believed to be temporary.

LATER

Omi scowled as he made his way towards the yacht club dressed in one of Ouka’s school uniforms, with his darts and crossbow concealed. However if he moved around too much they would come loose so he was walking awfully stiff. And cursing his incompetent teammates.

MEANWHILE

“You’re a terrible roommate.” Schuldig said flatly.

Yohji didn’t respond. He was too busy in his coma.

“Quit ignoring me.”

It’s hard not to ignore someone when you’re in a coma. So Yohji said nothing.

“I don’t feel guilty.” Schuldig stated. “It’s not my fault you overdosed anyway.”

...

“Goddamn it! Wake up you wuss!” Schuldig prodded Yohji with a crutch. His arm fell out of the position it had been in and dangled over the edge of the bed, but nothing else happened. So Schuldig sat up in bed and prodded harder with the crutch and accidentally hit one of the machines Yohji was hooked up to. It started blinking and buzzing.

He looked around for a nurse, then rolled over and pretended to sleep. But the buzzing turned into a car alarm type sound and he figured that was a bad thing. He ignored it for a few more minutes, then pressed the call button for the nurse.

LATER

Omi struck out for home close to one in the morning. He’d completed the mission at the yacht club, and it had been miserable, and his Christmas bonus had better be damned good.

Fifteen minutes in, some horny old business CEO had goosed him and his crossbow had tumbled onto the floor. So a roomful of bodyguards had trained guns on him and it was a miracle he’d survived.

He should have washed up as best he could in the rest room, stowed his weapons and stealthily and quickly made his way home after the mission, but he was burned out. So instead he just walked the streets wearing a school uniform drenched in blood and carrying a crossbow.

And he walked right into Farfarello, who was also bloodstained but it was a lot less obvious since he was decked out in black. Farf’s eye widened. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Omi answered in a near grunt.

“You uh…aren’t gonna mention…bumping into me to Nagi, are you?” Farfarello asked nervously.

“Why? Because it would get back to Crawford?”

“He’s gonna take my knives away!” Farfarello pleaded.

“Maybe you should stop with the killing then.” Omi suggested.

“You’re one to talk, you’re wearing more blood tonight than I am.” Farfarello noted.

Omi was about to make the very good point that he only killed for work when they both heard sirens. “Where did you kill people Farf?” Omi asked.

“The church across the street.”

“Right.”

And they both took off at a run together for the Schwarz apartment, as it was closer than the Koneko.

AT THE HOSPITAL

“You’re even more boring now.” Schuldig reported.

There were a lot more wires sticking out of Yohji now. Added to that they’d taken away the crutches as Yohji obviously wasn’t using them, and keeping them away from Schuldig was necessary.

“You’re faking it. You’re faking it for attention.”

And the machines helping Yohji breathe clicked away, making their annoying sounds.

“I can’t sleep with your toys buzzing and clicking like that. Turn them off.”

They seemed to click more defiantly.

“Well screw you too!” Schuldig yelled. “Fine! I don’t need you to have fun! I’ll just…count ceiling tiles.”

A nurse came in and hooked a feeding tube up to Yohji. Schuldig waited for her to leave.

“One…two…three…four…five…”

MEANWHILE

Farfarello and Omi ran breathless into the Schwarz living room. It was miraculously empty.

“Right! Schuldig isn’t home.” Farfarello whispered. Had he been home, he would have been on the sofa watching adult swim and they would have been caught.

Farfarello slipped out of the black trench coat he was wearing. He was relatively blood free under it. He tucked it under his arm and tip toed to the kitchen.

As soon as he opened the door he caught sight of Crawford at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and looking very smug waiting for him.

“The rest of your knives are stashed where I kept the Halloween candy. You can have them back when you’ve learned some self discipline.”

Farfarello growled threats under his breath and stalked off to his room.

Omi hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

“You may as well come in.” Crawford said. Omi ventured forward a little. “The cops will be by in about a half hour looking for you. You might want to get cleaned up.”

“Right…so…I shouldn’t try to make it home then?” Omi asked.

“It…wouldn’t be to your advantage. The Sox won game seven. They’re going to the World Series. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, but it put me in a good mood so you can spend the night.”

Omi smiled, then started towards Nagi’s room.

“Not there.” Crawford snapped.

“But-”

“I’m not quite that dumb. Besides, Aya told me about what you two were up to on the living room sofa.”

“You talk with Aya?” Omi asked incredulously.

Crawford ignored him. “You can use Schuldig’s room since it’s empty, or room with Farfarello if you prefer.”

Omi glanced down the hall. Schuldig’s bedroom door opened by itself, and the monsters fixed glares on him, remembering the last time he’d been in that room. Omi shivered. He looked again, and Farfarello was walking out of the bathroom, drying off his hands with a now bloodied white towel. He paused at his bedroom door, looked down the hall, and smiled and waved at Omi and Crawford.

“Can I sleep on the couch?” Omi asked.

LATER

“Are you still mad at me?” Ken prodded.

“Hn.”

“C’mon Aya. You can’t ignore me forever. I’ll get you to say something other than Hn eventually.” Ken threatened. He cleared his throat. “This is the song that never ends. It just goes on and on my friend. Some people started singing it not knowing what it was-”

Aya ended the song that never ends by chucking a flower pot at Ken’s head. Ken ducked and narrowly avoided it, but he smiled. “You’re not ignoring me anymore if you’re trying to kill me!”

Aya frowned, contemplating that logic, then started sweeping up the broken flowerpot.

With Yohji in the hospital and Omi…nowhere to be found, it was just them to manage the shop. They had briefly considered shutting it for the day and looking for Omi, but abandoned it in favor of the profits of the shop (the profits were nothing substantial but they made for nice padding on top of lousy Kritiker pay).

Omi was probably fine, and they certainly weren’t going to leave one person alone in the shop ever again.

Aya realized they had made the wrong decision. The shop was empty, Omi still hadn’t come back, and it was taking the last little bit of patience he had not to kill Ken. Aya actually hadn’t been ignoring him at all, he was just behaving normally, and he couldn’t figure out how to make Ken understand that.

“Hey Aya, whatcha thinking?” Ken asked. “And don’t say you’re going to castrate me because you already told me that one.”

Aya ground his teeth before answering. “Hn.”

Ken frowned. “You’re boring today.”

“Is it my job to amuse you?” Aya snapped.

“Yay! You spoke!” Ken exclaimed happily. “Woo. Why are you always sad Aya?”

Aya answered with a glare. “I’m not sad.”

“You’re right. Now you’re angry. Ooo…hey Aya check this out! It’s really shiny and if you move it like this, it makes the light on the floor move around!” Ken was now distracted by Omi’s broken watch.

Aya walked past him to the storage room, to get some wire for a display he needed to finish. Ken followed him and the door shut behind him.

“Whatcha doing?” Ken asked.

“Getting wire.”

With the door shut the storage room was pitch black, so Ken pulled the cord for the little light bulb, and it died in a shower of sparks. So he walked back over to the door to open it again, and that was where he encountered a problem.

“Aya? Did you lock the door or something?”

“What?” Aya growled.

“It’s stuck.”

Aya dropped the floral wire he’d finally retrieved. He was now trapped in a dark enclosed space with Ken for company until either Yohji got out of his coma and came home or Omi got back from wherever the hell he was and let them out. Trapped. With Ken.

He walked over to the wall and began banging his head against it.

LATER

Nagi awoke to the unpleasant sensation of a damp blanket. He was sleeping on a half deflated air mattress as his bed had broken awhile back, and it had been trashed, and it had still yet to be replaced.

He shifted and tried to avoid the wet spot on his blanket, as he really wasn’t ready to open his eyes and face another day, and he knew that whatever lump he could feel on the mattress was responsible for the wetness. However, it really was uncomfortable.

He opened his eyes and was met with the offering of a headless pigeon.

Nagi leapt out of the bed and ran across the room. He was halfway out the door when he noticed that the lump on his bed that had caused the wetness was one of the tentacled monsters from Schu’s room.

“Schuldig!” He screamed.

“He’s not home.” Farfarello reminded him, poking his head out of his bedroom door.

“Right. Sorry.” Nagi slumped into the kitchen, nodded a good morning greeting to Omi, went to the coffee maker and paused. He turned around and gaped at Omi for a second. “What are you doing here?” He demanded.

Omi blinked. “Are you not a morning person Nagi-kun?”

“Not when I’m awakened by a tentacled garbage monster. Really, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“I bumped into Farfarello last night and then the cops were after us so I hid here. And Crawford wouldn’t let me sleep in your room. Apparently he talks to Aya.” Omi said. “By the way the Red Sox are going to the World Series. Crawford took off on some secret business trip this morning and I think the two might be related.”

“So…the only person in here other than us right now is Farf?” Nagi asked slowly.

Omi caught his train of thought, and a slow smile started on his face.

“But where?” Nagi asked. “My bed’s been replaced by an air mattress and the living room couch doesn’t work based on what happened last time.”

“You know…I did see Crawford coming up from those stairs this morning, what’s down there?” Omi asked.

“Stairs?” Nagi asked.

Omi got up and walked over to the dishwasher. He opened it up and revealed a tiny stairwell.

“Could this be…the basement?” Nagi asked in wonder. “And such an ingenious hiding space…” Crawford was the only one who did dishes. “I’d kinda been wondering why he washed dishes in the sink when we had a dishwasher.”

“What do you think is down there?” Omi asked.

“I don’t know.” Nagi mused on that thought for a minute. “It’s probably not dangerous. Wanna check it out?”

“I’ll go get a flashlight.”

MEANWHILE

“Sixty-four. There are sixty-four ceiling tiles and I am damned sick of counting them!” Schuldig yelled. He fixed another glare at his comatose roommate.

Now not only was his arm purple and pussy, but it was throbbing and they still wouldn’t give him any drugs for it. He was bored, cranky, in pain and sick of just lying there.

“I’ll do it. But I’ll probably hate myself in the morning.” Schuldig decided as he left his body and entered Yohji’s mind.

He took a minute to get himself used to his new surroundings. Probably the last thing he wanted was to get stuck in Yohji’s head, so he decided to be careful about the venture. As of right now he was in a greenish void type of place. He was familiar with these. If he prodded around he’d either access memories or find some manifestation of Yohji’s subconscious or fragments of his personality.

And theoretically his conscious mind would be trapped here somewhere too, and if he found that he could probably drag Yohji out of the coma and get himself some company.

In the meantime at least his arm didn’t hurt.

“Uh…Yohji?” Schuldig called out, feeling rather dumb. He didn’t venture this far into people’s heads if he could help it, so he didn’t really know what he was doing. The thought occurred to him that he may accidentally keep Yohji in the coma if he wasn’t careful.

He walked around the green void for a bit when he finally spied something in the distance. Based on the knee-height and hair color it was more than likely Yohji’s inner child.

The little Yohji ran up to him wearing a cowboy costume and carrying a cap gun. “Bang! You’re dead mister!” Then he kicked Schuldig in the shin and started running off.

“Ow! Get back here you little brat!” Schuldig growled.

“Hafta catch me first!” Inner-child-Yohji taunted, then stuck his tongue out and ran. “I’ll be the cowboy and you be the Indian!”

“Get back here!” Schuldig ran after him. He tripped over something that was lying in his way and ended up sprawled on his face. By the time he looked up again the Inner Child was far in the distance, but the thing he’d tripped over was interesting enough anyway.

It was a fully grown Yohji, very gaunt and abused looking, with a black eye, hugging his knees and shaking.

“What are you supposed to be?” Schuldig wondered aloud.

“Stay back! I don’t know what we’ll do to you. You should leave. Bad things happen. We do bad things.” He said in a shaky voice. “I tell them not to do those things and then he hits me and we do them anyway and we’re going to hell!”

“Oh Christ. You’re the superego, aren’t you?” Schuldig asked, now amused. He contemplated what his own superego must look like. Obviously that thing was ignored entirely.

Then he felt an arm around his waist and turned to face what was undoubtedly the id. He was a lot healthier looking, smoking a cigarette, wearing a sequined devil horn headband and touching Schuldig suggestively.

“Yeah, he’s the superego. So, who are you? What are you doing here?” The id purred in Schuldig’s ear.

Schuldig untangled himself from the embrace while Id smirked at him, and looked damned fuckable. Which was damned unnerving.

“Uh…Yohji’s in a coma now and I wanted to try to bring him out of it.” Schuldig explained warily.

“No! We’ll hurt more people like that. We should stay asleep.” Superego whimpered. Then Id kicked him in the ribs.

“You’re better seen and not heard.” Id growled.

“He’s not all that much to look at actually.” Schuldig noted. Superego started crying.

“It’s because no one listens to me! If someone l-listened to m-me on occasion I c-could get stronger!”

“And then you’d be a threat!” Id yelled, kicking him harder.

“You’re going to break a rib!” Schuldig yelped.

“That’s not really possible baby. We’re not physical.” Id reminded him. “So, you want us to help you out?”

“Uh…yeah. How do I get him out of the coma?” Schuldig asked, backing away as Id tried to molest him again.

“Damned if I know. Wanna fuck?” Id asked.

“Thanks no, I’m a little busy.” Schuldig answered in a somewhat high pitched voice.

“Y-you could talk to Ego. H-he might be more help than us.” Superego spoke up timidly. “He likes you so he’ll probably help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Schuldig answered, edging away from Id and Superego.

He started walking away from them and spied someone else in the distance. Once he was closer to them, he realized it wasn’t Ego, and it definitely wasn’t a part of Yohji either. He’d heard about this before though he’d never actually seen it himself. If someone left enough of an impression on your life, some trace of them was supposed to be kicking around in your head.

He was faced with a very pretty lady with wavy golden hair and emerald eyes.

“Est-ce que vous avez vu un petit garcon monsieur?” The woman asked.

“Uh…I don’t speak…that.” Schuldig answered.

“Oh…Japon? Anglais?” She asked.

“Anglais…English. Yeah I do those. Was that French?” Schuldig asked.

“Oui. But I speak Japanese.” She answered, switching for him. “Have you seen a little boy running around? He should be in a cowboy outfit.”

“Yeah, I saw the inner child. And he kicked me in the shin.” Schuldig answered.

“Oh. I’ve never seen you before monsieur. Who are you exactly?” The woman asked.

“Schuldig. I’m a guest.”

“An uninvited guest I assume. My name is Genvieve Kudoh. If you see my little boy you’ll let me know, won’t you?” She asked pleasantly.

“Inner Child’s chasing Superego around with a cap gun.” A neutral looking Yohji spoke up, entering with Id.

“Thanks Ego. Au revoir messieurs.” Genvieve said pleasantly, heading towards the sound of Superego’s whimpers.

Schuldig stared after her for a minute then turned to Ego and Id. “Your mom’s hot.”

“Ew!” Ego exclaimed.

“I know.” Id answered with a lecherous smile.

“Dude! That’s incest!” Ego looked offended. “That’s even worse than when you try to seduce Superego!”

Schuldig looked disturbed.

“That is a fun past time. I think I’m up for some seduction now.” Id said thoughtfully, then followed after Genvieve, Inner Child and Superego.

Ego smiled pleasantly at Schuldig. “It’s nice of you to come in here and try to help me.”

“I’m not here to help.” Schuldig said defensively.

“Oh. But Id said you wanted to pull me out of the coma.” Ego looked confused.

“No. I want to drag you out of the coma so you can keep me company in the damned hospital room. I’m bored and my arm’s killing me.” Schuldig snapped.

“Well that sounds more like you.” Ego answered with distaste.

“So how do I do it?” Schuldig asked.

“How should I know? You’re the telepath. It’s not my fault if you’ve never done anything selfless like this and don’t know how.” Ego said defensively.

“Aargh! You people are so fucking annoying!” Schuldig yelled, letting out some frustration that had been building since Inner Child had made his appearance.

Ego frowned. “I thought you were starting to like us. Well, I mean us together. I dunno, you two have been getting along well lately.”

“No we haven’t. I beat his broken leg with a crutch and put him in a coma.” Schuldig responded. Ego shrugged.

“Maybe it’s one sided then. Oh by the way, Yohji woke up from his coma two minutes after you entered his head.”

“Son of a bitch!” Schuldig yelled.

MEANWHILE

The trap door Omi and Nagi had found had lead to a stairwell full of booby traps, but they’d gotten through it unscathed between their combined intelligence, Omi’s reflexes, and Nagi’s powers.

Now they were in a dark hallway that lead to an old wooden door. Omi inched forward slowly, Nagi just behind him, both of them watching for a flame thrower or mace or something. Then the flashlight blinked out as its batteries died.

Omi instinctively reached for Nagi’s hand and gripped it tightly. “Maybe we should go back.”

“No. I need to know what’s in the basement.” Nagi answered firmly. “I’ll go in front if you want.”

“No Nagi-kun. My fight or flight response leans more towards flight, I should be in front.” Omi answered. He took a deep breath, and then continued in the complete darkness.

Omi made it to the door and slowly pulled it open. He felt around on the wall for a light switch. He found one and flicked it on, and let out a terrified scream.

There was a man standing in front of him. He instinctively threw a dart and caught the man in the forehead.

Nagi charged forward and inspected the fallen foe.

Omi had thrown a poison dart at Ted Williams. Nagi nudged it with his foot.

“I can’t say I’m entirely surprised Crawford has a cardboard cutout of a Sox player. D’ya think he’ll notice the dart in his forehead?” Nagi asked.

“Maybe.” Omi answered as his breathing returned to normal. “Can we blame it on Farf?”

“Probably not.” Nagi glanced around the room. It was covered with Red Sox memorabilia. The walls were practically papered with photos and newspaper clippings. There was a bed in the corner with a Sox fleece on it, and a big screen TV facing it. Omi flopped onto the bed while Nagi scanned a bookshelf.

“Wow. Nagi-kun, there are little felt dolls of the Sox on here. I think Crawford might have made them himself, they don‘t look very professional. And this one‘s got a bloodstain on it.”

“Christ he’s pathetic.” Nagi muttered, picking through the bookshelf until he found a photo album. He laid down on the bed next to Omi and began flipping through it.

The first few pages were cute. There was a picture of ickle Crawford, maybe four years old, with what must have been his grandpa at Fenway together. Then there were pictures of his little league days and they started laughing at his expense as Crawford had been a fat kid. Apparently he’d lost the weight during a growth spurt.

They flipped through the album for a few minutes more, and then Nagi started getting bored. “Hey Omi…there’s a bed here.”

“Yeah. Yeah there is.”

They threw the album onto the floor and started making out, until Omi finally pushed Nagi away. “I can’t do this with so many eyes on us!” Omi squeaked. “I feel like I’m in a people zoo! It’s like discovery channel.”

Nagi sighed. Then with a quick burst of telekinesis the dolls were under the bed and all the pictures had been turned around.

“Better?” Nagi asked.

“Much better.” Omi agreed.

Then they made fast work of Nagi’s virginity.

SKIPPY SKIPPY

Crawford had been sitting in the airport with a nagging feeling he’d forgotten something important. He tore through his luggage and that’s when he noticed he didn’t have his lucky baseball boxers that he wore every game (they’d been in the laundry the year before and after that painful loss he wasn’t going to make that mistake again).

So he left the airport and rushed home.

LATER

“You’re glowing.” Farfarello said distastefully.

Nagi and Omi were in the kitchen. Omi was cooking something or other at the counter and Nagi was almost beaming at the table just gazing at his boyfriend lovingly. It was sickening.

And clearly Nagi hadn’t heard him.

“Why are you glowing?” Farfarello asked, now worried. Glowing meant sex, and the chibis weren’t supposed to be having sex and he would be blamed for not watching them. But he hadn’t heard any noises in the apartment or anything.

And then he noticed that Omi was cutting tofu cubes with his knives.

“Where did you get those?!” Farfarello screeched.

“In the basement.” Omi answered, backing away from Farfarello. The kitchen counter trapped him, unfortunately.

“You’re chopping that disgusting tofu with my knives?” Farfarello asked in a low voice. He valued his knives. He took very good care of them, kept them nice and sharp and clean. He was going to kill Omi. Slowly and carefully and cut him into little cubes and cook him with the tofu cubes.

“Farf, he’s cooking.” Nagi pointed out.

Farfarello turned to the table where a good three course meal was laid out for him. He considered.

“He’s going to make it a seven course if you let him.” Nagi added. He then pulled out a chair for Farfarello with his power.

Farfarello considered a moment longer, then sat down at the table. “You’re so dead as soon as I’m done with this stir fry. Is that chocolate mousse next to the tofu? Maybe I’ll wait for dessert. Then you’re really dead. This soufflé is to die for! And you will die.”

ELSEWHERE

Yohji blinked confusedly. He’d just woken up from his coma, and the last thing he remembered was the cheerful buzzing noise from the morphine button. He looked around for the button but it wasn’t there anymore, and he figured that probably had something to do with why he’d blacked out. And all the machines hooked up to him.

He glanced over to Schuldig’s bed, which was a bit farther away from his than it had been before. He noted that the crutches were gone as well.

Schuldig looked like he was asleep. He was almost unrecognizable without the almost ever present smirk. Laying unconscious in a hospital bed in his jammies, Schuldig looked really vulnerable. He looked so odd. Yohji felt strangely protective of him.

And then he opened his eyes, looking very annoyed. “Stop staring at me while I sleep, it’s creepy.” Schuldig snapped.

And that moment was killed.

“Hello Schuldig. Did your arm get worse? That really doesn’t look good.” Yohji inquired.

“Oh no. It’s supposed to be purple. Feels good.” Schuldig responded.

“Actually it’s kinda bluish now. Maybe you should call in a nurse to look at that.” Yohji suggested.

“Eh. Someone should be by anyway. I mean, you just came out of a coma.” Schuldig replied.

“I was in a coma?” Yohji asked, startled.

“Yeah. You overdosed on morphine.”

A doctor walked in then, looking excited. He ignored Yohji entirely and turned towards Schuldig. “Good news! We figured out what happened to your arm. A biologist friend of mine took a look at your blood test, and it turns out you have a virus that he’s only seen in sea turtles until this point. You’re going to have a condition named after you.”

“Thank you?” Schuldig asked. “I’m sorry, maybe I missed the good news in that.”

“The good news is now we know what it is and how to treat it. We‘ll be able to discharge you as soon as my friend sends in the vaccine he gives his turtles.” The doctor explained. Then he noticed Yohji. “Oh, you woke up. Good for you! I’d better go tell your doctor about that.” And off he went.

Schuldig was silent for a moment, processing the things he’d found in Yohji’s head. He was uncomfortable with the way the different aspects of Yohji’s personality had treated him and the way they’d talked about him, so he decided to ignore it for now, instead focusing on the fact that Yohji’s mom was French.

It shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did considering blond hair and green eyes weren’t that common amongst Japanese people, but he still hadn’t expected it. Germany and France were neighbors. It was a strangely comforting thought that someone besides Farfarello had connections to the same continent as him.

“Are you okay Schuldig? You’re awfully quiet.” Yohji noted.

“I’m good. Glad to be heading back to my cartoons.” Schuldig answered, smiling a true smile as he thought of the unwatched DVDs waiting for him at home. He’d hardly cut into the Ren and Stimpy DVD before he’d landed in the hospital.

Yohji shook his head in amusement. “You’re so cute with your cartoons.”

“I’m not cute.” Schuldig snapped.

“You’re frickin’ adorable.”

“Shut up before I put you in another coma!”

SKIPPY SKIPPY

Crawford gaped, horrified, at the state of his Sox shrine. Ted Williams had a hole in his forehead, his fleece was rumpled, the felt dolls he’d spent many days of anguish making were shoved under the bed and all of his pictures were turned backwards.

It was a sign. He had to perform an exorcism, something. The Red Sox were going to lose the World Series, and it would be his fault!

He ran from the room, wondering how he was going to convince a priest to spare him some holy water.

“I need to find a young priest and an old priest. FARF!!”

A/N  didn't you know? all us crazy masshole sox fans have sox shrines in our basements XP would also like to point out that this was written during post-season '04 and before the two recent victories ^-^