Schuldig watched as Crawford slipped out of his room and
uncharacteristically checked the hallway. He smirked and waved when the
tall American's gaze landed on him. Crawford coughed, straightened and
nodded coolly in the orange haired German's direction. He calmly walked to
the bathroom and firmly shut the door behind him.
Curiosity piqued, Schuldig waited for the other man to exit. Minutes passed, and finally, tired of waiting, he reached out and touched another mind. /Nagi, Crawford's up to something./
/Oh?/ Came Nagi's noncommittal reply. /So?/
/Do you know what's going on, then?/
There was a slight pause, then /No./
Schuldig grimaced. Nagi did know, but it looked like the teen wasn't going to be sharing anything.
/Nagi,/ Schuldig wheedled. /You do know something. What's going on?/ He heard a mental sigh from Nagi.
/Leave it alone, Schuldig. You wouldn't understand, anyway./
Crawford leaned his forehead against the closed door of the bathroom, thoughts whirling. Why did Schuldig have to pick that time to be in the hallway? He would ruin it. The first time he'd been able to feel in years, and he was afraid to show it, for fear of being ridiculed.
Finally, he slipped out of the bathroom. This time the hallway was clear, Schuldig was no where in sight.
He pushed open a door down the hallway and stepped into the room.
"Nagi?" he said tentatively, looking at the younger boy.
Nagi turned from his computer and smiled. "Hello, Crawford. Look, Farfarello is here." Crawford looked where Nagi indicated, and saw the scarred Irishman sitting on the floor of Nagi's bedroom. He was admiring his knife collection, and as Crawford watched, he selected a favorite and gave it a loving lick.
Schuldig strolled into the room then, without knocking. "Oh, look," he drawled. "One big happy family. Crawford as our beloved father, Nagi the doting son, Farfarello------" Schuldig was interrupted as Crawford backhanded him into Nagi's bedroom door.
"Now, Crawford, is that any way------" Schuldig began.
"OUT!" roared Crawford, flinging his hand out in Schuldig's direction. "And you, Farfarello, take your knives and get out before I find your straight jacket." Crawford's eyes glittered coldly. "I need to speak with Nagi--- alone." his tone suggested that Nagi was in trouble, big trouble.
* * *
Schuldig followed Farfaerllo to his room. While Schuldig claimed what passed for a bed in the room, Farfarello spread his knife collection out again, cackling over them.
/Nagi?/ Schuldig sent, keeping a careful eye on the giggling Irishman, just in case.
/Stay out of this, Schuldig./ Nagi slammed up mental barriers against further intrusions.
Schuldig sighed. He didn't bother trying to 'speak Crawford; the American always had his shields up against intrusions from the nosy German telepath. Farfarello looked up at Schuldig. "Crawford and Nagi are hurting God." He said cryptically, looking back down at his knives. Schuldig looked at the other man, wondering what he was talking about. "They hurt God, Farfarello? What do you mean by that?" Schuldig tried to get the Irishman to tell him what he meant by his confusing remark, but Farfarello refused to answer, ignoring the German completely. Schuldig blew his bangs out of his eyes, and decided to see if he could find out for himself.
* * *
Crawford looked at Nagi awkwardly. Nagi knew that unless he made the first move, nothing would happen. He used his telekinetic power briefly to make sure the door was firmly shut and locked. He stood up and walked over to the nervous looking older man. Nagi looked up into Crawford's honey eyes. "Crawford...Brad....it's okay" Nagi reached up and gently cupped Crawford's cheek with a trembling hand. "you're cold....Brad. You need warming up, I think."
Crawford's eyes widened, and he tried to back up a step, but the locked door barred the way. "Brad, it's okay. You can let me in. I--won't hurt you." Nagi's eyes grew soft and he stepped forward and embraced Crawford's stiff body, burying his face in Crawford's crisp jacket front.
Crawford looked down at the young boy embracing him, and jerkily moved his arms up to enfold him. Crawford stroked the young Japanese boy's hair, fingers trembling. "Nagi," he whispered. "I shouldn't be here. This is wrong. I should go."
Nagi only tightened his arms around Crawford. "No, Brad. Stay. I want this. You want this. Stay. Please." Nagi's eyes swam with suppressed emotion.
Crawford relaxed marginally. That had been his biggest worry--did Nagi return his feelings?
Nagi raised his head, then reached a slow, careful hand up to Crawford's head, burring his fingers in Crawford's short, darn hair. They both began to tremble, and Nagi firmly pulled Crawford's head down to his own. Their lips met, tentatively at first, but quickly grew bolder.
Nagi smiled to himself, lips curving against Crawford's. Things would be just....fine.
* * *
"...You're so little. I don't want to break you!"
"I'm not going to break Brad, I promise..."
* * *
Schuldig was determined to find out what was going on. Farfarello seemed uninterested in the fact that something strange was going on, too wrapped up in shining, sharpening, and cuddling his knives. Schuldig crept along the hallway, reaching Nagi's door. He pressed his ear to the door, since Nagi was still blocking him out. He heard a muffled thump, then nothing. Schuldig tried the doorknob carefully, but it was still locked. He shrugged, then moved down the hallway to another door. This door was unlocked. Schuldig pushed it open slowly, and carefully looked in.
Crawford's bed was crisply made, hospital corners tucked under smoothly. And the bed was surprisingly...empty.
Where was Crawford? Still in Nagi's room? Schuldig quietly moved back to Nagi's door, trying in vain to hear something either physically or mentally.
/Schuldig./
/My, my, the great Crawford unbending enough to speak to me?/ Schuldig smirked even thought Crawford could not see him.
/If you don't leave the door NOW, you will be sorry. Go to your room and go to bed. We'll speak of this in the morning./ Crawford's mental voice was as cold and icy as his real voice. Schuldig shivered, knowing how bad Crawford's rages could be, so he whispered back /Yes, Crawford. See you in the morning./ Schuldig slunk back to his room and followed Crawford's orders to the letter.
* * *
Crawford reluctantly uncurled his long body from around Nagi's smaller frame. "Nagi," he whispered to the boy, "I have to go back to my own room."
Nagi made a little noise in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms tightly around the bigger man. "No, Brad, stay." he whimpered. "I'll be...lonely if you leave."
"Nagi, I should go." Crawford struggled a bit in Nagi's embrace. "I shouldn't be found here in the morning."
"Brad.....please stay." Nagi pleaded again. He arched and eyebrow and looked Crawford in the eye. "Besides, my bed is much more comfortable than that cement slab you call a bed."
Crawford struggled a bit more, then gave up. "You're right, Nagi. Your bed is more comfortable." He nuzzled Nagi's neck. "But I need to be back in my own room before that nosy Schuldig gets up and finds me missing."
Nagi floated his alarm clock over, and set it. "That enough for you, Brad?" Crawford nodded, and Nagi replaced the alarm clock.
"Now," Nagi breathed into Crawford's ear, "Are you interested in sleeping, or interested in something else?" Crawford blushed.
* * *
Wrapped in Nagi's arms, Crawford began to dream.
He was younger, much younger. In the days of his boxing career, and in the days of his first love. He thought her was beautiful. She was small, reaching to just above his shoulder, with beautiful honey brown eyes. She didn't approve of his career. "It's so violent, Brad" she used to tell him. "I worry about you. I don't want you to get hurt!" Her brown eyes would swim with unshed tears. He still had trouble believing someone would shed tears over him.
"I don't deserve someone like you, love." he would say, and swing her into his strong arms for a passionate kiss. Her eyes would grow big, and she would sigh.
Crawford convulsed. Nagi whimpered. Down the hall, Schuldig sat up and clutched at his head. Farfarello slept on, immune to Crawford's pain.
They stood outside of his gym, on the curb. He clutched her hand, and reached out to touch her soft, dark hair. "Love, don't go" he whispered. His boxing gloves hung from his shoulders, his shirt still damp from his workout at the gym.
"Brad, I can't stay. I can't watch you get beat up anymore!" The girl cried, pulling away from Crawford's grasp. She began to run away, and looked back one last time, brown eyes full of pain. "I just can't do it!"
The car tried to slam on its breaks. The girl tried to stop running. Crawford tried to grab her back from the street. They were all too late. The car slammed into her, tossing her through the air like a ragdoll. She hit the pavement with a sickening thud. Crawford ran to her side, carefully gathering her battered body in his arms.
"Please don't go, don't leave!" he sobbed, blurring his face in her dark hair, rocking her back and forth.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Crawford clawed his way out of the dream, sitting bolt upright in Nagi's bed. Nagi was curled in a tight ball, whimpering, while papers and small object flew around the room. From the hallway, he could hear an awful wailing coming from the direction of Schuldig's room.
"B-b-brad..." Nagi's voice trembled, and he reached out for the older man.
"Don't touch me!" Crawford leapt out of bed, putting distance between him and the younger boy. He turned, and fled from the room. "I shouldn't have been here! This never would have happened if I had stayed in my own room! Why did I start to care again?" Crawford wailed, leaving Nagi's room and heading back to his own. Crawford locked himself safely away, and spent the rest of the night sitting on his bed, staring out the widow at the moon.
* * *
Nagi paused outside of Crawford's door. He knocked softly, hoping Crawford would respond. He waited a moment, then knocked a bit louder. "I know you're out there, Nagi. Go away." Crawford growled from inside the room. "Brad, talk to me. What happened?" Nagi called through the door. "Let me in, please!" "No!" Nagi carefully used a bit of his power to unlock the door. He turned the knob, and then began pushing open the door. "Nagi, if you open that door, I'll kill you." Crawford said coldly, meaning every word. Nagi paused, then let go of the knob. Tears flooded his eyes, and he stumbled blindly off, heading for the only sanctuary he could think of.
* * *
Schuldig held his head, keening at the pain he felt. What the hell was going on? Weird disjointed dreams about boxing and pretty girls, and a splitting headache were his only answers. Schuldig looked up as his door inched open. "Schuldig?" Nagi whispered, poking his head in. "Are you okay? I could hear you in my room....." he turned pain filled eyes in the German's direction.
"Nagi, what's going on? My head....it's about to split in TWO" Schuldig groaned, rubbing his temples. "It's Br--Crawford. I think he had a nightmare. But he's locked himself in his room, and won't come out. And he won't talk to me."
"Crawford? A nightmare? Didn't know the old boy had that much emotion penned up in him." Schuldig drawled, closing his eyes against the light from the hallway.
"He does!" Nagi said vehemently, startling himself and Schuldig. "Well, he does. I just don't know why he won't show that side of him to us." Schuldig blinked, and nodded.
"All right, Nagi, if you say so."
"Schuldig?" Nagi said.
"Yes, Nagi?"
"Would you mind...if I stayed with you for the rest of the night? I don't want to be alone right now." Nagi lowered his head a bit, then shyly looked at the other man.
Schuldig scooted over and patted the coverlet next to him. "Hop in, youngling." Nagi cuddled up to Schuldig in a familiar way. They had spent many nights like this when Nagi had first come to Esset, a scared, lonely young boy looking for companionship to ward off the loneliness. Though he spent many nights away from his own bed, Schuldig wouldn't even think of Nagi in that way; he was too much like a scared younger brother to him. /It'll be okay, Nagi, really./
/Promise, Schu-schu?/
/Promise, Nagi-kun./
Curiosity piqued, Schuldig waited for the other man to exit. Minutes passed, and finally, tired of waiting, he reached out and touched another mind. /Nagi, Crawford's up to something./
/Oh?/ Came Nagi's noncommittal reply. /So?/
/Do you know what's going on, then?/
There was a slight pause, then /No./
Schuldig grimaced. Nagi did know, but it looked like the teen wasn't going to be sharing anything.
/Nagi,/ Schuldig wheedled. /You do know something. What's going on?/ He heard a mental sigh from Nagi.
/Leave it alone, Schuldig. You wouldn't understand, anyway./
Crawford leaned his forehead against the closed door of the bathroom, thoughts whirling. Why did Schuldig have to pick that time to be in the hallway? He would ruin it. The first time he'd been able to feel in years, and he was afraid to show it, for fear of being ridiculed.
Finally, he slipped out of the bathroom. This time the hallway was clear, Schuldig was no where in sight.
He pushed open a door down the hallway and stepped into the room.
"Nagi?" he said tentatively, looking at the younger boy.
Nagi turned from his computer and smiled. "Hello, Crawford. Look, Farfarello is here." Crawford looked where Nagi indicated, and saw the scarred Irishman sitting on the floor of Nagi's bedroom. He was admiring his knife collection, and as Crawford watched, he selected a favorite and gave it a loving lick.
Schuldig strolled into the room then, without knocking. "Oh, look," he drawled. "One big happy family. Crawford as our beloved father, Nagi the doting son, Farfarello------" Schuldig was interrupted as Crawford backhanded him into Nagi's bedroom door.
"Now, Crawford, is that any way------" Schuldig began.
"OUT!" roared Crawford, flinging his hand out in Schuldig's direction. "And you, Farfarello, take your knives and get out before I find your straight jacket." Crawford's eyes glittered coldly. "I need to speak with Nagi--- alone." his tone suggested that Nagi was in trouble, big trouble.
* * *
Schuldig followed Farfaerllo to his room. While Schuldig claimed what passed for a bed in the room, Farfarello spread his knife collection out again, cackling over them.
/Nagi?/ Schuldig sent, keeping a careful eye on the giggling Irishman, just in case.
/Stay out of this, Schuldig./ Nagi slammed up mental barriers against further intrusions.
Schuldig sighed. He didn't bother trying to 'speak Crawford; the American always had his shields up against intrusions from the nosy German telepath. Farfarello looked up at Schuldig. "Crawford and Nagi are hurting God." He said cryptically, looking back down at his knives. Schuldig looked at the other man, wondering what he was talking about. "They hurt God, Farfarello? What do you mean by that?" Schuldig tried to get the Irishman to tell him what he meant by his confusing remark, but Farfarello refused to answer, ignoring the German completely. Schuldig blew his bangs out of his eyes, and decided to see if he could find out for himself.
* * *
Crawford looked at Nagi awkwardly. Nagi knew that unless he made the first move, nothing would happen. He used his telekinetic power briefly to make sure the door was firmly shut and locked. He stood up and walked over to the nervous looking older man. Nagi looked up into Crawford's honey eyes. "Crawford...Brad....it's okay" Nagi reached up and gently cupped Crawford's cheek with a trembling hand. "you're cold....Brad. You need warming up, I think."
Crawford's eyes widened, and he tried to back up a step, but the locked door barred the way. "Brad, it's okay. You can let me in. I--won't hurt you." Nagi's eyes grew soft and he stepped forward and embraced Crawford's stiff body, burying his face in Crawford's crisp jacket front.
Crawford looked down at the young boy embracing him, and jerkily moved his arms up to enfold him. Crawford stroked the young Japanese boy's hair, fingers trembling. "Nagi," he whispered. "I shouldn't be here. This is wrong. I should go."
Nagi only tightened his arms around Crawford. "No, Brad. Stay. I want this. You want this. Stay. Please." Nagi's eyes swam with suppressed emotion.
Crawford relaxed marginally. That had been his biggest worry--did Nagi return his feelings?
Nagi raised his head, then reached a slow, careful hand up to Crawford's head, burring his fingers in Crawford's short, darn hair. They both began to tremble, and Nagi firmly pulled Crawford's head down to his own. Their lips met, tentatively at first, but quickly grew bolder.
Nagi smiled to himself, lips curving against Crawford's. Things would be just....fine.
* * *
"...You're so little. I don't want to break you!"
"I'm not going to break Brad, I promise..."
* * *
Schuldig was determined to find out what was going on. Farfarello seemed uninterested in the fact that something strange was going on, too wrapped up in shining, sharpening, and cuddling his knives. Schuldig crept along the hallway, reaching Nagi's door. He pressed his ear to the door, since Nagi was still blocking him out. He heard a muffled thump, then nothing. Schuldig tried the doorknob carefully, but it was still locked. He shrugged, then moved down the hallway to another door. This door was unlocked. Schuldig pushed it open slowly, and carefully looked in.
Crawford's bed was crisply made, hospital corners tucked under smoothly. And the bed was surprisingly...empty.
Where was Crawford? Still in Nagi's room? Schuldig quietly moved back to Nagi's door, trying in vain to hear something either physically or mentally.
/Schuldig./
/My, my, the great Crawford unbending enough to speak to me?/ Schuldig smirked even thought Crawford could not see him.
/If you don't leave the door NOW, you will be sorry. Go to your room and go to bed. We'll speak of this in the morning./ Crawford's mental voice was as cold and icy as his real voice. Schuldig shivered, knowing how bad Crawford's rages could be, so he whispered back /Yes, Crawford. See you in the morning./ Schuldig slunk back to his room and followed Crawford's orders to the letter.
* * *
Crawford reluctantly uncurled his long body from around Nagi's smaller frame. "Nagi," he whispered to the boy, "I have to go back to my own room."
Nagi made a little noise in the back of his throat and wrapped his arms tightly around the bigger man. "No, Brad, stay." he whimpered. "I'll be...lonely if you leave."
"Nagi, I should go." Crawford struggled a bit in Nagi's embrace. "I shouldn't be found here in the morning."
"Brad.....please stay." Nagi pleaded again. He arched and eyebrow and looked Crawford in the eye. "Besides, my bed is much more comfortable than that cement slab you call a bed."
Crawford struggled a bit more, then gave up. "You're right, Nagi. Your bed is more comfortable." He nuzzled Nagi's neck. "But I need to be back in my own room before that nosy Schuldig gets up and finds me missing."
Nagi floated his alarm clock over, and set it. "That enough for you, Brad?" Crawford nodded, and Nagi replaced the alarm clock.
"Now," Nagi breathed into Crawford's ear, "Are you interested in sleeping, or interested in something else?" Crawford blushed.
* * *
Wrapped in Nagi's arms, Crawford began to dream.
He was younger, much younger. In the days of his boxing career, and in the days of his first love. He thought her was beautiful. She was small, reaching to just above his shoulder, with beautiful honey brown eyes. She didn't approve of his career. "It's so violent, Brad" she used to tell him. "I worry about you. I don't want you to get hurt!" Her brown eyes would swim with unshed tears. He still had trouble believing someone would shed tears over him.
"I don't deserve someone like you, love." he would say, and swing her into his strong arms for a passionate kiss. Her eyes would grow big, and she would sigh.
Crawford convulsed. Nagi whimpered. Down the hall, Schuldig sat up and clutched at his head. Farfarello slept on, immune to Crawford's pain.
They stood outside of his gym, on the curb. He clutched her hand, and reached out to touch her soft, dark hair. "Love, don't go" he whispered. His boxing gloves hung from his shoulders, his shirt still damp from his workout at the gym.
"Brad, I can't stay. I can't watch you get beat up anymore!" The girl cried, pulling away from Crawford's grasp. She began to run away, and looked back one last time, brown eyes full of pain. "I just can't do it!"
The car tried to slam on its breaks. The girl tried to stop running. Crawford tried to grab her back from the street. They were all too late. The car slammed into her, tossing her through the air like a ragdoll. She hit the pavement with a sickening thud. Crawford ran to her side, carefully gathering her battered body in his arms.
"Please don't go, don't leave!" he sobbed, blurring his face in her dark hair, rocking her back and forth.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Crawford clawed his way out of the dream, sitting bolt upright in Nagi's bed. Nagi was curled in a tight ball, whimpering, while papers and small object flew around the room. From the hallway, he could hear an awful wailing coming from the direction of Schuldig's room.
"B-b-brad..." Nagi's voice trembled, and he reached out for the older man.
"Don't touch me!" Crawford leapt out of bed, putting distance between him and the younger boy. He turned, and fled from the room. "I shouldn't have been here! This never would have happened if I had stayed in my own room! Why did I start to care again?" Crawford wailed, leaving Nagi's room and heading back to his own. Crawford locked himself safely away, and spent the rest of the night sitting on his bed, staring out the widow at the moon.
* * *
Nagi paused outside of Crawford's door. He knocked softly, hoping Crawford would respond. He waited a moment, then knocked a bit louder. "I know you're out there, Nagi. Go away." Crawford growled from inside the room. "Brad, talk to me. What happened?" Nagi called through the door. "Let me in, please!" "No!" Nagi carefully used a bit of his power to unlock the door. He turned the knob, and then began pushing open the door. "Nagi, if you open that door, I'll kill you." Crawford said coldly, meaning every word. Nagi paused, then let go of the knob. Tears flooded his eyes, and he stumbled blindly off, heading for the only sanctuary he could think of.
* * *
Schuldig held his head, keening at the pain he felt. What the hell was going on? Weird disjointed dreams about boxing and pretty girls, and a splitting headache were his only answers. Schuldig looked up as his door inched open. "Schuldig?" Nagi whispered, poking his head in. "Are you okay? I could hear you in my room....." he turned pain filled eyes in the German's direction.
"Nagi, what's going on? My head....it's about to split in TWO" Schuldig groaned, rubbing his temples. "It's Br--Crawford. I think he had a nightmare. But he's locked himself in his room, and won't come out. And he won't talk to me."
"Crawford? A nightmare? Didn't know the old boy had that much emotion penned up in him." Schuldig drawled, closing his eyes against the light from the hallway.
"He does!" Nagi said vehemently, startling himself and Schuldig. "Well, he does. I just don't know why he won't show that side of him to us." Schuldig blinked, and nodded.
"All right, Nagi, if you say so."
"Schuldig?" Nagi said.
"Yes, Nagi?"
"Would you mind...if I stayed with you for the rest of the night? I don't want to be alone right now." Nagi lowered his head a bit, then shyly looked at the other man.
Schuldig scooted over and patted the coverlet next to him. "Hop in, youngling." Nagi cuddled up to Schuldig in a familiar way. They had spent many nights like this when Nagi had first come to Esset, a scared, lonely young boy looking for companionship to ward off the loneliness. Though he spent many nights away from his own bed, Schuldig wouldn't even think of Nagi in that way; he was too much like a scared younger brother to him. /It'll be okay, Nagi, really./
/Promise, Schu-schu?/
/Promise, Nagi-kun./