Author's notes: /disclaimers go here [I don't own NIN]/ Here is somewhat the sequel of 'Winter Night's Rain', yet centered on Schuldig. Hope you like it, and if you have read it, please review. Thanks a lot.
Schuldig's POV
yaoi = Brad/Schu; Schu/Farf
dirty language
[- telepathy -]
\thought\
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I'm Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally
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"It's easier to infiltrate at night," our stick-in-the-ass leader reasoned to me a while earlier when I began whining in that pissing off style that I developed all these years, on doing the mission on daytime instead, and just disguise as smart-assed executives, which merely produced nothing for the mission had been already 'planned' out.
Yeah right.
Carrying out missions at night is hell for me. Who knows what I experience when my shields are generating weakness at night due to stress on the day? Who discerns that when we pass those goddamned house with slumbering people, I obtain their nightmares? Who could possibly KNOW that I instantly have a splitting headache after a night assignment? Who knows that I won't have even a minute to doze after a damned night of 'infiltrating' just to recover my shields? Who fucking knows?
No one.
They all lack telepathy, so they don't experience this hell I'm going through, routing to their indifference of my pain. It all lands to that. No one knows me, no one cares. No one wanted to know.
It takes a lot of empathy to get the gist of what I'm saying.
And they also don't have empathy. Nagi may, at times, but he's so quiet, or maybe he's going indifferent about everything now that we stole that bitch Tot from her. I'm so fucking pathetic.
Yet ranting won't alter my state right now. Currently we're in this vast building, hoping, or rather HAVE to acquire some information about our client's rival's company. And also terminate the prime bastard. I have to rave on how I look dumb behind these stack of papers, all the while watching Crawford's ass move while in a crouch, an effort to keep myself amused. He appeared damn weird with his spotless cream suit, crouching there, seeming like an illiterate American.
I actually smirked at that notion. Glancing at my left, I clearly saw Nagi partly hiding in the dark, prepared to use his telekinesis if someone suddenly barge in the room. And after me, its breath warm on my neck, is Farfarello. His shields were very intact, his movement an absence from his steady crouch, and only his temperate breath was the only thing that proved his presence.
Although he gave me quite a hard time on that time when he dumped me, even though he gave me a flaw on my temple (well, thank goodness for my headband), he seem to be attractive to me in every way, in every state of his morbid demeanor. To add, today he was totally inevitable to think of.
His mere presence distracted me completely, and my guess is that when Crawford would command us, I wouldn't notice. His smell was... I don't know... sweet... Earlier this day, Nagi remarked that our dear Farfarello was beyond malodorous, and decided, unhesitating, to use his telekinesis to bathe the lunatic. It was all worth it. He now smelled of cherry and jasmine, further enticing my senses, wanting me to grab him and do once again that kiss...
A deep voice cut off my thoughts. "Schuldig," Crawford called me in a low tone, barely audible, gesturing to the door. "Go west to the target's office, you know what to do. Nagi and I would do the rest," he said coldly, and turned to Farf. "Farfarello," a single movement behind me, averting the breath to my ears, inducing a shiver which crawled the length of my spine. "Go with Schuldig. Don't fail."
My eyes went large for a while, and nodded as an affirmative to Crawford. For the sake of the completion of this damned mission, I partly let down my shields, facing whatever that would likely give me a pain in the head and alert to comprehend the bunch of asses beyond the door. For now, there was none. I directed Farf to the exit, going out as soon as it was opened by Nagi's power.
The hallway was unlit and forbidding, and from what I've learned in all these shit, a single mistake could be fatal. I attempted to run as fast I can without even letting out sounds from my shoes, however still bringing forth sounds, which are just minimal. Farfarello was in a considerable distance behind me, hiding in the shadows, his eye gleaming like a cat's. Glancing a second time at him, I thought he looked like a hungry vampire straight from its casket searching for its prey. A beautiful vampire to be exact.
As we went closer to the office, thoughts began spilling in my mind abruptly, in a motion so rapid that a pang of pain came in my head. I squinted, stopping behind a pillar, seeking a silent part of my mind to concentrate and determine the number of people out there. I felt soft flesh stick beside me - Farfarello - squeezing beside me, the scent of him lingering on my senses. I shook my head from distraction, concluding the total thoughts of people there are in my head. I pressed two fingers on my temple, gathering up ample amount of strength, then hastily blasting the culminated energy to them, making the people's minds go blank.
Clatters and thuds confirmed that I have done my part. Again, I smirked and gathered up myself. We're too near to our target. I felt excitement crawling up my nerves, and I smirked in a way to show my mirth. The sooner this shit would end, the better.
I gestured Farfarello to go after me once again, and we stealthily made our way to the door, where our glory awaits. Deafening silence greeted my mind. I twisted my face in confusion as I focused once again in the room. Nothing.
Before touching the knob, I thought the possibilities of the absence of mind presence. Perhaps they're in the other room from this main room. Or to stick to the supernatural side, a telepath might be blocking the thoughts of the target inside. I smirked at the latter thought, shrugging it away. It wasn't possible. Estet is the only organization operating with 'gifted' people, from which Rosenkreuz is the source.
Slowly, I turned the knob, and peered inside. It was only complete darkness in there, the curtains drawn in, no light entering in any way. I felt a bit like an idiot, having telepathy and still unused to this situation. Nevertheless, being sure comes in priority.
Despite my confidence, my heart began thudding in my chest, fearing what we didn't expect. Farf was flat against the wall, scanning the hallway and clutching his knife a bit too hard. His single amber eye, which was gleaming until now, showed a trace of fright.
So he felt it too, in spite of his chaotic mind. Perhaps the impossible hunch might come true, after all.
I didn't enter the room right away, requiring the assurance of the room's emptiness. Farfarello shifted his single amber eye at me questioningly for a split second, maybe asking why I'm being very careful. I stopped the desire to mock mentally, and resumed to business. I closed my eyes and concentrated, scanning the area intricately, not leaving a particular point unexamined.
I froze, lifted my lids swiftly, coming to an alert phase of my state. Cold sweat began its terrible appearance from my temple, further generating the apprehension gripping my mentality. The hand holding the knob tightened, and my heart beat in my chest, contracting my upper torso rather painfully.
My mind just swept on an awfully rigid mental wall.
"Shit," I cursed under my breath and closed the door quietly. Without hesitating, I signalled Farfarello to retreat, another confused look as he obliged. I raced to the safety concealment behind the pillar again, and the madman went beside me, watching my features impassively.
He still didn't get it! If the bastard with that mental cover has a stronger psychic power than the two of us, then we're most likely be dead. Our shadows now seemed to me - so completely obliterated. I shivered, letting the sweat trickle down my cheek.
"What happened?" upon seeing my distressed expression, Farfarello spoke for the first time. It was in a low, breathy voice, vacant of emotions. Instead of answering him instantly, I forcefully tried to rebuild my shields. Little by little...
"There is a person with mental shields there. My guess is that it's a fucking telepath," I drawled, my voice raspy.
"Then let's go in," he replied simply. His face was still impassive. Bloodthirsty.
"Idiot. We might get killed. I don't know his powers, so we're undoubtedly in peril," I wiped the sweat from the side of my face. Cold. I inhaled deeply but it was instantaneously trapped in my throat when a deep, loud, foreign voice echoed in the hallway. Farfarello stiffened beside me, startled.
"Where are the rats? Come on, show yourselves..." mocking, taunting. Its voice was beyond human - robotic and hoarse. I choke down the lump in my throat and remembered my shields. Of all the situations I should be in... Damn. I closed my eyes to raise it up, however in vain, for the person with the inhuman voice was unexpectedly in front of us, eyes frighteningly glowing, his physique larger compared to me and Farf's combined bodies. "Oh, the rats!"
The large man rushed to us, but his massive body made him slower than us, sacrificing his psychic abilities. Farfarello, as expected, vanished from my side, appearing behind the man, his knife glinting, and his single amber eye glowing in lust to shed blood. His injuries from the idiotic fall he did a week ago didn't even disturb him, proving the height of his limitless stamina. I briskly pulled out my pistol, determined to kill the bastard, itchily fingering the trigger. Finally I aimed it on the man while he was distracted because of Farfarello and I rounded him fast, searching for a point where I can hit him bull's eye.
For a chaotic three seconds, I pulled the trigger while the man turned to me, agape; however it was too late, for the bullet which should hit his head broke in his biceps, sprouting blood in a perfect projectile. His telepathy might be working quite a bit. I smirked.
The large man turned to me, his eyes screaming 'death', which just made my heart pound in painful beats. He abandoned the struggle on restraining Farf's knife, and converted his anger towards me. I had no time to fear. I got to live, got to finish this damnable mission. I concluded that this man is weak, but one never really knows what he could do.
Having read my mind, the large man was to haul himself to me yet Farfarello came into the scene, his bloodlust more prominent.
Farfarello was quick to go on the man's back, giving him a deadlock on the neck and then plunged the knife on the large man's neck. Crimson liquid splattered on Farf's side, and the man's eyes starting to loll up his eye sockets. But before collapsing on the floor, the large man locked its large, glinting eyes at me, widening and after a split second, just before I close my mind, he sent a discharge of head-splitting noise in my mentality. My mental shields were useless at this point; it was still hanging; incomplete. Close to breaking.
I curled up in agony as I tore my hair. Farfarello instantly noticed this and with a quick slice of his knife, the large man's head lolled on the ground, blood spurting everywhere. The floor vibrated as the man's decapitated body collapsed on the floor, blood spilling until it reached the sole of my shoes. Yet the torment still wasn't fading, and the sudden influx of thoughts of the people the telepath covered a while ago made it worse. I desperately needed to raise my shields...
All of a sudden, and I wasn't sure if that were an enemy or not, a warm hand spread on my temple. In a fleeting moment, Farfarello's eyes met mine, shedding warmth to me, with that calloused hand extended to my head as a sign of help. The skin contact made a miraculous difference. An unusual energy ran from him to me, giving me the strength to build up the lost shields. I managed to build a mental cover which is not so strong, but will suffice. The foreign thoughts were at last dissipating, but the noise was still there. Farfarello stood up, as if nothing had happened and waited for me near the office.
In an agonizing effort, I managed to plant my feet flat on the ground, and with a hand extended on a wall as a support, I stood, however, my sight was blurred. I ordered my comrade to go in first, as it was his passion, and try to terminate anyone who he might see. Farfarello's amber eye shimmered in excitement as he hurried inside, longing for blood.
I walked in heavy steps towards the office, hearing the tearing of flesh and screams on the adjacent room. Leaning on the wall, I tried to contact Crawford.
[- Crawford... Where the fuck are you? -] I cringed at the noise in my head.
\We're already here near the back entrance. Is the target terminated?\
[- Farf's doing it well. This room will be emptied soon... -]
\Everything in order?\
[- Damned noise in my head. Nevermind. -]
\What happened?\ Cold, as usual. Fuck that Oracle.
[- Nevermind, I said. -] I closed the connection and saw Farf, gruesome as he would like to be seen, standing in front of me, his face exceptionally void of pleasure. His hands were covered in gore, and his face and body were splattered with crimson. Farfarello's amber eye was glazed, looking down at his bloodstained knife. He lifted his head and proceeded in front of me, not caring if I would follow or not. I took a step with prevailing chaos in my mind.
I disregarded the stink of his gore-covered clothes and skin and proceeded behind him to the back entrance, wincing all the while. Searching for support, I ended up sticking near the window, oblivious of the consequences of my revelation. As I've quite expected, a voice rang out, ordering to 'fire'.
Farfarello turned swiftly to me, his eyes widening as he screamed my name at the top of his lungs. His voice mingled with the noise in my head, liking the sharp edge of the tone he used to shout my name. I was too indulged in my pain that nothing out there mattered that time.
I was the bull's eye of a roped spider arrow which gripped my shoulders and back, which had so much force that threw me to the window, crashing it to millions of debris on the ground and I went dazed, and apathetic to the ground, hitting my head on the gravel, feeling something gushing from my head just before all the light was deprived from me.
"Damn..." I cursed before everything became excruciating black.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yes, it was too hard.
Too fucking hard.
So hard to just stream into consciousness with the presence of unbelievably sharp pain searing my head. It wasn't fair. I've fully given my mind to this mission - to no cure on my damage? Where are they? What have they done? Have they totally forgotten about me? Crawford would always reserve his teammate, and would not ever leave it injured. Nagi was always there to notify the casualty to our leader. How about Farfarello? No, he damned not care about anything now...
On second thought, maybe he did care. I vividly remember the time he screamed my name, desperately, fearfully, as if he's reaching out to me, and wouldn't let me go to the worst dilemma.
Where is he now? Most importantly, what happened to me, with this pain?
For some reason, I cannot open my eyes. If I concentrated and tried just one time, an explosion of pain bled into my mind. What is this? I don't remember any situation when I had a major injury and came into this.
I tried to move my fingers, but all in vain. Opening my eyes were a difficulty, and therefore made impossible if I move anything else. My heart beat hardly in my chest, as a realization crept to me.
I am... entirely paralyzed...
No doubt it fucking is. Though my telepathy brought my mind still intact. And speaking of telepathy, maybe it's a fruitful idea to contact the others...
Damn! Oh goddamn it! Why the fuck can't I hear their thoughts? What happened? Did my telepathy resign itself from doing its main purpose by making my mind functioning? The hell with it! Now I know I'm too weak to do anything... I'm a fucking handicap now. Who would profit from me now? Would I stay like this forever? Surely Crawford must be doing some shit about this now, or I'll kill him! Or perhaps I won't have the chance anymore...
No...
I stopped thinking for a while, dwelling in the entire darkness of this mind of mine. Suddenly I hear something... Is that my telepathy? It seemed to be blurred a bit, but eventually it came into me clearly, although it was the sound of a door closing. Wait, that isn't our door... It seemed to me as if it were a hospital door.
"He's still immobile, paralyzed," I thought it was a doctor talking to a nurse. And to my utter surprise, I felt a hand checking my pulse on the neck. My heart double timed, making my pulse go fast, and issued a gasp from the doctor. "His pulse has been fast since I touched him. The breathing is even. He's fine, I think, though we should check him from time to time." The hand left me, and coldness from the airconditioner wrapped me.
A sound of a door opening was heard this time. And frantic sounds of footsteps going near me. "What is his condition?" hushed and deliberately controlled. Crawford. I felt the need to grasp him and tell him I'm conscious, tell him I'm fucking weak. But it was a stupid wish of course. My telepathy was a fucking defect.
"He's in a coma, and his status is just okay. No need to worry. He would wake up sometime, I'm sure for that." Oh, great. A fucking normal hospital. And I thought Crawford would log me into Estet's hospital where my main injury is shown. I am damned paralyzed!! Probably the concussion that night broke a vein in my brain, the cause of this paralysis. Just great...
"Are you positively sure about that?" Crawford's voice was doubting, always the main source of intelligence. If I were in a coma, I could contact them all and say a damn thing! "How about the bleeding from his head? Has there a damage in it?" Yes, of course it has. I just landed three stories from the ground and fell headfirst. Heh.
"We have stitched it, and we found no damage in his brain."
"If you would excuse me, I would like to be alone in this room, please," Crawford demanded, and instantly the doctor went out, the door closing behind him. Silence prevailed for a moment then shuffling of feet. Brad was pacing back and forth, I know. I have heard the same thing for years when he was desperate and needed an answer. Most probably visions weren't frequenting him, the cause of his distress.
I wanted to contact him! Talk about helpless! I've never been helpless in all my life! I've been a fucking manipulative all my life! Oh damn, damn, damn...
"Schuldig... if you can hear me, what do you need right now? I know the doctors here are faking out. What's your real condition?" his words weren't picked out, random from his complex thoughts. I screamed in my head, 'PARALYZED!' but from the silence, it was obviously unheard. If only I were in Estet's hands then they could grab a telepath and read my thoughts, but I am not in Estet, so to HELL WITH IT!
The Oracle sighed in defeat, or perhaps thinking it was hopeless for my mind was totally crushed. A sound of a door closing confirmed to me that he left, for a telepath, I wish, or to leave me forever. That doesn't sound too promising...
An hour or so passed by. I don't know. First of all, my mind is not a clock, and second, I'm in this deep darkness with my own company. If I were outside, if I could get out of this body, then I'd ask a greasy man the wasted time that should be used productively if I could just get out...
Sleep was a far option, if I closed my mind, perhaps the dreams would swallow me and I'll be forever in my subconscious. Doesn't sound too bad if Crawford wouldn't transfer me to a decent hospital. Emergency gives him a rough start, and makes startling decisions. If he hadn't got visions enough, it would lead to panic.
I sighed mentally and waited for a sound.
An awfully long time passed, and boredom was waiting for me not so far. I started to think of Farfarello, of what he is doing now... Maybe spreading cherry jam on his french bread, eating it because 'it looks like blood and it hurts God', or maybe lounging in the living room, watching some God-hurting TV shows, or to the hopeful side, he might be worried about me... missing my company...
The constant hum of the airconditioner and the 'tut, tut' of a machine intended to find my pulse were the only things I hear in this room, the constant noise which made me half-sane. I need to hear the door opening... I need to hear the voices of my teammates, or their thoughts... I want to hear Farfarello's rough voice, okay, and to the others, Crawford and Nagi's voice would do good. Damn it, if this would go on forever, ANYONE'S voice would do BETTER!
Not long, the door opened, a creak resounding to the room, then shutting in a mindless slam. Soft footsteps on the ground, moving almost stealthily to my side, the rustle of its shirt audible to me. I waited for a sign to reveal this person's identity, but some minutes, only the faint rustle came to my senses. Annoying as it was, I listened intently, trying to hear any possible faint whisper.
Unexpectedly, a hand came in contact with my cheeks, grazing at it with soft fingers, running to my neck, then up to my cheek again, to rest onto the side of my face, with its big hand heating that part. A soft sigh was heard, barely audible. I waited. My heart was thumping in my chest now; the pulse detector must be going double time. I didn't care. If this were Farfarello, I would be too happy that I would forget this blackness...
Another sigh.
When would this sigh episode end? I started to curse in my head, but something of a foreign sound reached my ears. Another sigh, heavier than the last? I listened intently, not letting a sound bother my concentration. I gasped involuntarily in my mind.
A sob? Who's crying now?
The sound continued for some minutes, then dissipating once again in a sigh. The hand left my cheek, creeping to my hand. The hand, which is relatively bigger than mine squeezed it, then a second hand clasped it both. The person's smell wafted to my nose momentarily, the perfume of its clothes intoxicating with its sweet smell.
I waited desperately for a voice.
But instead of one, the person's hands left me bereft of my need of a presence. However, the hand shot up to my temple and I felt heat surging from me to the person. It wasn't the normal heat transfer, but it was sort of supernatural... almost abnormal. The hand withdrew, and soft, hurried footsteps faded away as the door creaked closed. I was alone again, I know. It was my turn now to sigh, with that annoying frustration dripping in my mind. I know the earlier excitement would be reduced to boredom.
I thought about the heat. Something in my mind tried to slap me from a certain cognizance that I forgot. Gradually though, my contemplation faded into a weak feeling of staying conscious in this paralysis.
Another long time passed, and no one was there to check me, or to keep me sane in this blackened shit. It would be a nice idea to resort to my unconscious for a while to reserve some energy for my telepathy. And so, reluctantly at first, I let myself slip off to unconscious, to that black sleep.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When I woke up, it was only a preternatural consciousness. I was still immobilized, though the atmosphere briefly changed, the airconditioner's hum was gone, replaced by the occupied sounds of hands and equipment. The pulse detector also was curiously gone, and fear lurked into my mind, troubling me of the change of atmosphere.
Despite the loud noise, I caught a peculiar sound in my head, a whisper? I was entirely sure it seemed amplified, separated from the other noise. Then there it was again, vibrating in my mind, reverberating in the walls of my mind.
[- Schuldig... -] I gasped mentally, surprised at the telepathy.
\I am awake. Who are you?\ I thought in German, thinking that this telepath must be in the same nationality as me, judging from the German-accented voice; and to add, I might be in Rosenkreuz, in Germany.
[- A telepath hired by Estet. Please wait for a moment, I would call your accomplice. -] Accomplice? Does he mean Crawford? I heard him calling some 'mister' and some loud footsteps drawing near me.
"Is he all right?" controlled, cold, but a bit troubled. Crawford.
[- He asks if you're all right. -]
\I can hear him. Tell him where the damn I am right now. And also tell him I'm paralyzed due to brain damage.\ the telepath told Crawford my demands in a monotone.
"Schuldig, we're in Estet's hospital, in Germany. Yes, I already know you're paralyzed, and currently you're in an operating room. They're fixing the damage caused in your brain. I apologize for the late action for your condition for I had difficulty seeing visions at that time." Crawford's voice was so rushed that it seemed hard to follow his words which were almost stringing in each other.
\Thank goodness. I might've gotten myself rotten in that damned hospital. Where are the others?\ The telepath immediately stated it to Crawford, as I thought of Farfarello. Where was he?
A moment of silence from the American before he spoke slowly. "They are in a hotel close from here. I haven't allowed them to come, especially Farfarello. His mind was apparently unstable, and was not able to reply coherent statements as I asked him... to go with me. Nagi had to guard him, and restrict him from ruining the rest of the hotel."
\What about my condition? Am I going to be fully cured? By the way, how many days have passed? It seemed to be fucking forever!\ The telepath hesitated for a moment, and deleted the swear word. \Hey!\ I protested, and chuckled mentally.
[- It wasn't necessary, sir. -]
\Well, fine! Though you ruined the effect of my words. Nevermind...\
"The doctors here are positive you'll return to your mobility, though after some days. Two days. Your telepathy might come back five hours after your operation. And you have been inert for week. Though... erm..." Crawford cleared his throat and almost chuckled. If I could just see him, I bet my double-breasted blazer that he is smirking. "Your physical appearance might disturb you after this process."
My thoughts raced after one another as the word 'physical' reached my ears. A bruise on the face would cause panic from me, so what would disturb me? A slash across the face? Three large, bulging bruise on the cheeks? A broken nose, perhaps? What the hell was that?
The telepath beside me cringed at the sort of thoughts I've been giving him, and I awarded myself a mental smirk for that. Finally, someone who actually KNOWS. I played with the telepath for a while and finalized my question.
\Tell him this: What is it that would disturb me, eh, stick-in-the-ass?\
"He asks: What is it that would disturb him?" the telepath translated.
\Hey! That's improper! Say stick-in-the-ass!\
[- Like I've said, it's unnecessary, sir. I'm sorry, but my job requires politeness and business stance. -] the telepath said with authority.
\You're no fun.\ Heeheehee. I love this! After what seemed like forever of boredom, at last I'm back to my normal self again. Thank goodness I didn't go insane from that impossible solitude.
The Oracle seemed to suppress a chuckle and came up with a 'hn' instead. He let a moment of silence from him then uttered a 'hn' once more. Damn him! It was physical business! I should know! "As you know, you're being operated ON the brain. And naturally, the doctors wouldn't approve of any hindrance to their job. Don't worry..." he finished huskily. A flap was heard, and I think he's pocketing his hands in his slacks. It took a while before I get what he's trying to say...
\OH DAMN! FUCK! ANYTHING BUT MY HAIR!\ I heard the telepath wince slightly, and a silent curse in German was uttered, barely audible. Hehehe. No, no laughing. Damn, how many years before I could grow that length of hair again? I would really kill that guy who threw me out of the window. However, on second thought, maybe he was terminated by Farfarello.
Then I remembered that time... Who was the one crying? The one touching my hand? \Hmmm... ask Crawford that if by any chance, he was the one who visited me and did those hentai thingies to me.\ This time the telepath said it in my words. I heard Crawford gasping and at once replying, 'No, I was not'.
"Mister Crawford, the operation had been finished. I request for you to step out because our patient needs his rest. And may I suggest, Mister Schuldig, that you resort to sleep now. Your mental shields are to be restored, as your telepathy would be rejuvenated." The doctor mandated, and I heard footsteps departing from the room. A silent 'ja mata' was heard as the door closed. The farewell words seemed to last in my mind for no reason at all. It exudes a different feeling of being protected. I liked it.
Suddenly I floated in the air, and I predicted it was a telekinetic controlling me. Several minutes later, I was lowered down to soft mattresses. Contemplating now would remain futile, so I left it hanging in my mind, letting myself sleep again.
It would take a while... Damn fucking while.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It wasn't a happy ending, may I remind you. This isn't a shitty fairy tale. Our life has been composed of blood and suffering; this goddamned life must be called a horror movie soon.
I was glad that spring was in full bloom here in Germany, or my bones would freeze with the post-winter effect. Years ago when we were assigned in Berlin in winter, it was a hell of white snow. Almost a feet of snow covered the ground, and even with my agility, it became hard for me to run as fast as I can on cemented road.
I recall that on that day when I woke up, with full consciousness, all with my telepathy and my mental shields, in the hotel room where my teammates were watching me, even Farfarello was there; I was delighted that that awful nightmare was over. I finally had to be pleased with the staff of Estet for bringing me to sanity once again. Though I hated them for one thing:
This damned hair. It had been cropped to the roots, and I almost looked like an egg with a scar on the back of the head. Farfarello, to my great annoyance, was entirely amused by the situation that he laughed hysterically when he saw me. Nagi was impassive as usual, but his shoulders were shaking like a ten-year old's. And Crawford? Don't ask. He creeped me out by laughing in front of my face. It was the first time I saw him laugh that HARD, and it was frightening beyond reason.
I had to nag Crawford over and over to give me a decent scarf or a cap or even a hat to hide this ridiculous head. He constantly ignored me, and resulted to Nagi giving me a moss green scarf "to match with my blazer".
And about Farfarello, it was unquestionably NOT a happy ending. The Irishman had been in his own world since I was cured. He was mindless and often playing with his knives in a corner, sometimes in front of the TV, watching some morbid movie. For three days of staying in Germany in that fancy hotel, he never gave a word to me, only the unintentionally brush of his shoulder to mine, and the unavoidable whisk of his sweet scent whenever he passed by me.
I felt pathetic to be trying to grasp a madman who evidently doesn't have a mind for such thing as this.
Right now we are waiting for our private plane to get home to Japan. It's more of a murdering country for me, having those Weiß kittens hurl at us everytime we were included in their supposed mission. However, it was our life, our damn life to be like that. We couldn't delete this life that has been intended just for us. We have no choice too.
Farfarello was in his straitjacket, controlled by Nagi, and I, with my scarf covering my head, was side by side with Crawford who donned his serious and cold trademark, his hands lazily resting on his sides. I looked at him, and he instantly returned it, seeing it coming in his mind.
I smirked. "Say, Crawffy..." I extended an arm to his shoulder, the perfume of his clothes lingering on my senses with a familiarity that I couldn't miss. I smirked once again when he shrugged my arm, rather startled.
"What?" he felt uncomfortable for a while, though his impassive face gave nothing. I sighed, and grinned knowingly. I decided to strike him using telepathy now, than with words.
[- I remember that time, Crawford. You thought I forget it, didn't you? -] Crawford stiffened, and I proceeded, locking my jade eyes with his cool amber ones. [- And I did not forget it. I knew it was you. Though I was so startled that a man as cold-blooded as you could CRY. -]
"You cared for me all these time," I whispered in his ear, not wasting a moment of this awfully sweet situation, drawing my hot breath to him. I felt him shiver for a fleeting moment before his usual stoic composure returned.
\Oh shit.\ Crawford's thought slipped into my mind, despite the coolness he projected. I smirked.
[- No, no shit. Even if you haven't done that, it might be broadcasted in the world in a different way. I'm too hard to resist, am I? What would you have done if I died in that nasty incident, hm? I bet, you would damn every creature you would see? Or carry your guilt forever in your mind until you starve yourself to death? Or would you choose to ignore it? -] I sneered at him. [- I don't think so, Crawford. Or may I call you BRAD now? -] I mentally chuckled, watching our private plane coming into view. The ladder shot down, Nagi and Farfarello entering at once.
I tore my stare from Crawford and followed the two. Before boarding the plane, I shot him a fake wistful gaze, my nose almost touching his. In a soft, clear voice, I said to him verbally this time: "Then what should we do about it?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Crawford automatically replied, and went ahead of me to the plane. I watched him as he climbed up, and proceeded inside. I wouldn't let this pass, I have the opportunity now. Especially with the fact that we are in a PRIVATE plane. I smirked again, following him, letting a last message in his head which might send a chill running up to his spine.
[- I bet... I don't think so. -]
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+.End.+
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As black as the night can get,
Everything is safer now.
There's always a way to forget
Once you learn to find a way how.
In the blur of serenity
Where did everything get lost?
The flowers of naivete
Buried in a layer of frost
The smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes
Thought he had it all before they called his bluff
Found out that his skin just wasn't thick enough
Wanted to go back to how it was before
Thought he lost everything
Then he lost a whole lot more
A fool's devotion
Swallowed up in empty space
The tears of regret
Frozen to the side of his face
I've done all I can do
Could I please come with you?
Sweet smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes.
- I'm looking forward to joining you, finally
- Nine Inch Nails
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Author's notes: Is it too weird and PWP? Oh gee, I don't know too. Oh well, I've done everything I can do about this fic (yup, and it's the longest one-shot I've ever written!) and might come up with a Crawford-centered or Nagi-centered fic to complete Schwarz. So what do you think about my fic? How about a review? Enlighten me please. Thanks a lot for reading! ^-^ 10:10 PM 4/4/03
Schuldig's POV
yaoi = Brad/Schu; Schu/Farf
dirty language
[- telepathy -]
\thought\
++ ++ ++ ++ ++
I'm Looking Forward To Joining You, Finally
++ ++ ++ ++ ++
"It's easier to infiltrate at night," our stick-in-the-ass leader reasoned to me a while earlier when I began whining in that pissing off style that I developed all these years, on doing the mission on daytime instead, and just disguise as smart-assed executives, which merely produced nothing for the mission had been already 'planned' out.
Yeah right.
Carrying out missions at night is hell for me. Who knows what I experience when my shields are generating weakness at night due to stress on the day? Who discerns that when we pass those goddamned house with slumbering people, I obtain their nightmares? Who could possibly KNOW that I instantly have a splitting headache after a night assignment? Who knows that I won't have even a minute to doze after a damned night of 'infiltrating' just to recover my shields? Who fucking knows?
No one.
They all lack telepathy, so they don't experience this hell I'm going through, routing to their indifference of my pain. It all lands to that. No one knows me, no one cares. No one wanted to know.
It takes a lot of empathy to get the gist of what I'm saying.
And they also don't have empathy. Nagi may, at times, but he's so quiet, or maybe he's going indifferent about everything now that we stole that bitch Tot from her. I'm so fucking pathetic.
Yet ranting won't alter my state right now. Currently we're in this vast building, hoping, or rather HAVE to acquire some information about our client's rival's company. And also terminate the prime bastard. I have to rave on how I look dumb behind these stack of papers, all the while watching Crawford's ass move while in a crouch, an effort to keep myself amused. He appeared damn weird with his spotless cream suit, crouching there, seeming like an illiterate American.
I actually smirked at that notion. Glancing at my left, I clearly saw Nagi partly hiding in the dark, prepared to use his telekinesis if someone suddenly barge in the room. And after me, its breath warm on my neck, is Farfarello. His shields were very intact, his movement an absence from his steady crouch, and only his temperate breath was the only thing that proved his presence.
Although he gave me quite a hard time on that time when he dumped me, even though he gave me a flaw on my temple (well, thank goodness for my headband), he seem to be attractive to me in every way, in every state of his morbid demeanor. To add, today he was totally inevitable to think of.
His mere presence distracted me completely, and my guess is that when Crawford would command us, I wouldn't notice. His smell was... I don't know... sweet... Earlier this day, Nagi remarked that our dear Farfarello was beyond malodorous, and decided, unhesitating, to use his telekinesis to bathe the lunatic. It was all worth it. He now smelled of cherry and jasmine, further enticing my senses, wanting me to grab him and do once again that kiss...
A deep voice cut off my thoughts. "Schuldig," Crawford called me in a low tone, barely audible, gesturing to the door. "Go west to the target's office, you know what to do. Nagi and I would do the rest," he said coldly, and turned to Farf. "Farfarello," a single movement behind me, averting the breath to my ears, inducing a shiver which crawled the length of my spine. "Go with Schuldig. Don't fail."
My eyes went large for a while, and nodded as an affirmative to Crawford. For the sake of the completion of this damned mission, I partly let down my shields, facing whatever that would likely give me a pain in the head and alert to comprehend the bunch of asses beyond the door. For now, there was none. I directed Farf to the exit, going out as soon as it was opened by Nagi's power.
The hallway was unlit and forbidding, and from what I've learned in all these shit, a single mistake could be fatal. I attempted to run as fast I can without even letting out sounds from my shoes, however still bringing forth sounds, which are just minimal. Farfarello was in a considerable distance behind me, hiding in the shadows, his eye gleaming like a cat's. Glancing a second time at him, I thought he looked like a hungry vampire straight from its casket searching for its prey. A beautiful vampire to be exact.
As we went closer to the office, thoughts began spilling in my mind abruptly, in a motion so rapid that a pang of pain came in my head. I squinted, stopping behind a pillar, seeking a silent part of my mind to concentrate and determine the number of people out there. I felt soft flesh stick beside me - Farfarello - squeezing beside me, the scent of him lingering on my senses. I shook my head from distraction, concluding the total thoughts of people there are in my head. I pressed two fingers on my temple, gathering up ample amount of strength, then hastily blasting the culminated energy to them, making the people's minds go blank.
Clatters and thuds confirmed that I have done my part. Again, I smirked and gathered up myself. We're too near to our target. I felt excitement crawling up my nerves, and I smirked in a way to show my mirth. The sooner this shit would end, the better.
I gestured Farfarello to go after me once again, and we stealthily made our way to the door, where our glory awaits. Deafening silence greeted my mind. I twisted my face in confusion as I focused once again in the room. Nothing.
Before touching the knob, I thought the possibilities of the absence of mind presence. Perhaps they're in the other room from this main room. Or to stick to the supernatural side, a telepath might be blocking the thoughts of the target inside. I smirked at the latter thought, shrugging it away. It wasn't possible. Estet is the only organization operating with 'gifted' people, from which Rosenkreuz is the source.
Slowly, I turned the knob, and peered inside. It was only complete darkness in there, the curtains drawn in, no light entering in any way. I felt a bit like an idiot, having telepathy and still unused to this situation. Nevertheless, being sure comes in priority.
Despite my confidence, my heart began thudding in my chest, fearing what we didn't expect. Farf was flat against the wall, scanning the hallway and clutching his knife a bit too hard. His single amber eye, which was gleaming until now, showed a trace of fright.
So he felt it too, in spite of his chaotic mind. Perhaps the impossible hunch might come true, after all.
I didn't enter the room right away, requiring the assurance of the room's emptiness. Farfarello shifted his single amber eye at me questioningly for a split second, maybe asking why I'm being very careful. I stopped the desire to mock mentally, and resumed to business. I closed my eyes and concentrated, scanning the area intricately, not leaving a particular point unexamined.
I froze, lifted my lids swiftly, coming to an alert phase of my state. Cold sweat began its terrible appearance from my temple, further generating the apprehension gripping my mentality. The hand holding the knob tightened, and my heart beat in my chest, contracting my upper torso rather painfully.
My mind just swept on an awfully rigid mental wall.
"Shit," I cursed under my breath and closed the door quietly. Without hesitating, I signalled Farfarello to retreat, another confused look as he obliged. I raced to the safety concealment behind the pillar again, and the madman went beside me, watching my features impassively.
He still didn't get it! If the bastard with that mental cover has a stronger psychic power than the two of us, then we're most likely be dead. Our shadows now seemed to me - so completely obliterated. I shivered, letting the sweat trickle down my cheek.
"What happened?" upon seeing my distressed expression, Farfarello spoke for the first time. It was in a low, breathy voice, vacant of emotions. Instead of answering him instantly, I forcefully tried to rebuild my shields. Little by little...
"There is a person with mental shields there. My guess is that it's a fucking telepath," I drawled, my voice raspy.
"Then let's go in," he replied simply. His face was still impassive. Bloodthirsty.
"Idiot. We might get killed. I don't know his powers, so we're undoubtedly in peril," I wiped the sweat from the side of my face. Cold. I inhaled deeply but it was instantaneously trapped in my throat when a deep, loud, foreign voice echoed in the hallway. Farfarello stiffened beside me, startled.
"Where are the rats? Come on, show yourselves..." mocking, taunting. Its voice was beyond human - robotic and hoarse. I choke down the lump in my throat and remembered my shields. Of all the situations I should be in... Damn. I closed my eyes to raise it up, however in vain, for the person with the inhuman voice was unexpectedly in front of us, eyes frighteningly glowing, his physique larger compared to me and Farf's combined bodies. "Oh, the rats!"
The large man rushed to us, but his massive body made him slower than us, sacrificing his psychic abilities. Farfarello, as expected, vanished from my side, appearing behind the man, his knife glinting, and his single amber eye glowing in lust to shed blood. His injuries from the idiotic fall he did a week ago didn't even disturb him, proving the height of his limitless stamina. I briskly pulled out my pistol, determined to kill the bastard, itchily fingering the trigger. Finally I aimed it on the man while he was distracted because of Farfarello and I rounded him fast, searching for a point where I can hit him bull's eye.
For a chaotic three seconds, I pulled the trigger while the man turned to me, agape; however it was too late, for the bullet which should hit his head broke in his biceps, sprouting blood in a perfect projectile. His telepathy might be working quite a bit. I smirked.
The large man turned to me, his eyes screaming 'death', which just made my heart pound in painful beats. He abandoned the struggle on restraining Farf's knife, and converted his anger towards me. I had no time to fear. I got to live, got to finish this damnable mission. I concluded that this man is weak, but one never really knows what he could do.
Having read my mind, the large man was to haul himself to me yet Farfarello came into the scene, his bloodlust more prominent.
Farfarello was quick to go on the man's back, giving him a deadlock on the neck and then plunged the knife on the large man's neck. Crimson liquid splattered on Farf's side, and the man's eyes starting to loll up his eye sockets. But before collapsing on the floor, the large man locked its large, glinting eyes at me, widening and after a split second, just before I close my mind, he sent a discharge of head-splitting noise in my mentality. My mental shields were useless at this point; it was still hanging; incomplete. Close to breaking.
I curled up in agony as I tore my hair. Farfarello instantly noticed this and with a quick slice of his knife, the large man's head lolled on the ground, blood spurting everywhere. The floor vibrated as the man's decapitated body collapsed on the floor, blood spilling until it reached the sole of my shoes. Yet the torment still wasn't fading, and the sudden influx of thoughts of the people the telepath covered a while ago made it worse. I desperately needed to raise my shields...
All of a sudden, and I wasn't sure if that were an enemy or not, a warm hand spread on my temple. In a fleeting moment, Farfarello's eyes met mine, shedding warmth to me, with that calloused hand extended to my head as a sign of help. The skin contact made a miraculous difference. An unusual energy ran from him to me, giving me the strength to build up the lost shields. I managed to build a mental cover which is not so strong, but will suffice. The foreign thoughts were at last dissipating, but the noise was still there. Farfarello stood up, as if nothing had happened and waited for me near the office.
In an agonizing effort, I managed to plant my feet flat on the ground, and with a hand extended on a wall as a support, I stood, however, my sight was blurred. I ordered my comrade to go in first, as it was his passion, and try to terminate anyone who he might see. Farfarello's amber eye shimmered in excitement as he hurried inside, longing for blood.
I walked in heavy steps towards the office, hearing the tearing of flesh and screams on the adjacent room. Leaning on the wall, I tried to contact Crawford.
[- Crawford... Where the fuck are you? -] I cringed at the noise in my head.
\We're already here near the back entrance. Is the target terminated?\
[- Farf's doing it well. This room will be emptied soon... -]
\Everything in order?\
[- Damned noise in my head. Nevermind. -]
\What happened?\ Cold, as usual. Fuck that Oracle.
[- Nevermind, I said. -] I closed the connection and saw Farf, gruesome as he would like to be seen, standing in front of me, his face exceptionally void of pleasure. His hands were covered in gore, and his face and body were splattered with crimson. Farfarello's amber eye was glazed, looking down at his bloodstained knife. He lifted his head and proceeded in front of me, not caring if I would follow or not. I took a step with prevailing chaos in my mind.
I disregarded the stink of his gore-covered clothes and skin and proceeded behind him to the back entrance, wincing all the while. Searching for support, I ended up sticking near the window, oblivious of the consequences of my revelation. As I've quite expected, a voice rang out, ordering to 'fire'.
Farfarello turned swiftly to me, his eyes widening as he screamed my name at the top of his lungs. His voice mingled with the noise in my head, liking the sharp edge of the tone he used to shout my name. I was too indulged in my pain that nothing out there mattered that time.
I was the bull's eye of a roped spider arrow which gripped my shoulders and back, which had so much force that threw me to the window, crashing it to millions of debris on the ground and I went dazed, and apathetic to the ground, hitting my head on the gravel, feeling something gushing from my head just before all the light was deprived from me.
"Damn..." I cursed before everything became excruciating black.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yes, it was too hard.
Too fucking hard.
So hard to just stream into consciousness with the presence of unbelievably sharp pain searing my head. It wasn't fair. I've fully given my mind to this mission - to no cure on my damage? Where are they? What have they done? Have they totally forgotten about me? Crawford would always reserve his teammate, and would not ever leave it injured. Nagi was always there to notify the casualty to our leader. How about Farfarello? No, he damned not care about anything now...
On second thought, maybe he did care. I vividly remember the time he screamed my name, desperately, fearfully, as if he's reaching out to me, and wouldn't let me go to the worst dilemma.
Where is he now? Most importantly, what happened to me, with this pain?
For some reason, I cannot open my eyes. If I concentrated and tried just one time, an explosion of pain bled into my mind. What is this? I don't remember any situation when I had a major injury and came into this.
I tried to move my fingers, but all in vain. Opening my eyes were a difficulty, and therefore made impossible if I move anything else. My heart beat hardly in my chest, as a realization crept to me.
I am... entirely paralyzed...
No doubt it fucking is. Though my telepathy brought my mind still intact. And speaking of telepathy, maybe it's a fruitful idea to contact the others...
Damn! Oh goddamn it! Why the fuck can't I hear their thoughts? What happened? Did my telepathy resign itself from doing its main purpose by making my mind functioning? The hell with it! Now I know I'm too weak to do anything... I'm a fucking handicap now. Who would profit from me now? Would I stay like this forever? Surely Crawford must be doing some shit about this now, or I'll kill him! Or perhaps I won't have the chance anymore...
No...
I stopped thinking for a while, dwelling in the entire darkness of this mind of mine. Suddenly I hear something... Is that my telepathy? It seemed to be blurred a bit, but eventually it came into me clearly, although it was the sound of a door closing. Wait, that isn't our door... It seemed to me as if it were a hospital door.
"He's still immobile, paralyzed," I thought it was a doctor talking to a nurse. And to my utter surprise, I felt a hand checking my pulse on the neck. My heart double timed, making my pulse go fast, and issued a gasp from the doctor. "His pulse has been fast since I touched him. The breathing is even. He's fine, I think, though we should check him from time to time." The hand left me, and coldness from the airconditioner wrapped me.
A sound of a door opening was heard this time. And frantic sounds of footsteps going near me. "What is his condition?" hushed and deliberately controlled. Crawford. I felt the need to grasp him and tell him I'm conscious, tell him I'm fucking weak. But it was a stupid wish of course. My telepathy was a fucking defect.
"He's in a coma, and his status is just okay. No need to worry. He would wake up sometime, I'm sure for that." Oh, great. A fucking normal hospital. And I thought Crawford would log me into Estet's hospital where my main injury is shown. I am damned paralyzed!! Probably the concussion that night broke a vein in my brain, the cause of this paralysis. Just great...
"Are you positively sure about that?" Crawford's voice was doubting, always the main source of intelligence. If I were in a coma, I could contact them all and say a damn thing! "How about the bleeding from his head? Has there a damage in it?" Yes, of course it has. I just landed three stories from the ground and fell headfirst. Heh.
"We have stitched it, and we found no damage in his brain."
"If you would excuse me, I would like to be alone in this room, please," Crawford demanded, and instantly the doctor went out, the door closing behind him. Silence prevailed for a moment then shuffling of feet. Brad was pacing back and forth, I know. I have heard the same thing for years when he was desperate and needed an answer. Most probably visions weren't frequenting him, the cause of his distress.
I wanted to contact him! Talk about helpless! I've never been helpless in all my life! I've been a fucking manipulative all my life! Oh damn, damn, damn...
"Schuldig... if you can hear me, what do you need right now? I know the doctors here are faking out. What's your real condition?" his words weren't picked out, random from his complex thoughts. I screamed in my head, 'PARALYZED!' but from the silence, it was obviously unheard. If only I were in Estet's hands then they could grab a telepath and read my thoughts, but I am not in Estet, so to HELL WITH IT!
The Oracle sighed in defeat, or perhaps thinking it was hopeless for my mind was totally crushed. A sound of a door closing confirmed to me that he left, for a telepath, I wish, or to leave me forever. That doesn't sound too promising...
An hour or so passed by. I don't know. First of all, my mind is not a clock, and second, I'm in this deep darkness with my own company. If I were outside, if I could get out of this body, then I'd ask a greasy man the wasted time that should be used productively if I could just get out...
Sleep was a far option, if I closed my mind, perhaps the dreams would swallow me and I'll be forever in my subconscious. Doesn't sound too bad if Crawford wouldn't transfer me to a decent hospital. Emergency gives him a rough start, and makes startling decisions. If he hadn't got visions enough, it would lead to panic.
I sighed mentally and waited for a sound.
An awfully long time passed, and boredom was waiting for me not so far. I started to think of Farfarello, of what he is doing now... Maybe spreading cherry jam on his french bread, eating it because 'it looks like blood and it hurts God', or maybe lounging in the living room, watching some God-hurting TV shows, or to the hopeful side, he might be worried about me... missing my company...
The constant hum of the airconditioner and the 'tut, tut' of a machine intended to find my pulse were the only things I hear in this room, the constant noise which made me half-sane. I need to hear the door opening... I need to hear the voices of my teammates, or their thoughts... I want to hear Farfarello's rough voice, okay, and to the others, Crawford and Nagi's voice would do good. Damn it, if this would go on forever, ANYONE'S voice would do BETTER!
Not long, the door opened, a creak resounding to the room, then shutting in a mindless slam. Soft footsteps on the ground, moving almost stealthily to my side, the rustle of its shirt audible to me. I waited for a sign to reveal this person's identity, but some minutes, only the faint rustle came to my senses. Annoying as it was, I listened intently, trying to hear any possible faint whisper.
Unexpectedly, a hand came in contact with my cheeks, grazing at it with soft fingers, running to my neck, then up to my cheek again, to rest onto the side of my face, with its big hand heating that part. A soft sigh was heard, barely audible. I waited. My heart was thumping in my chest now; the pulse detector must be going double time. I didn't care. If this were Farfarello, I would be too happy that I would forget this blackness...
Another sigh.
When would this sigh episode end? I started to curse in my head, but something of a foreign sound reached my ears. Another sigh, heavier than the last? I listened intently, not letting a sound bother my concentration. I gasped involuntarily in my mind.
A sob? Who's crying now?
The sound continued for some minutes, then dissipating once again in a sigh. The hand left my cheek, creeping to my hand. The hand, which is relatively bigger than mine squeezed it, then a second hand clasped it both. The person's smell wafted to my nose momentarily, the perfume of its clothes intoxicating with its sweet smell.
I waited desperately for a voice.
But instead of one, the person's hands left me bereft of my need of a presence. However, the hand shot up to my temple and I felt heat surging from me to the person. It wasn't the normal heat transfer, but it was sort of supernatural... almost abnormal. The hand withdrew, and soft, hurried footsteps faded away as the door creaked closed. I was alone again, I know. It was my turn now to sigh, with that annoying frustration dripping in my mind. I know the earlier excitement would be reduced to boredom.
I thought about the heat. Something in my mind tried to slap me from a certain cognizance that I forgot. Gradually though, my contemplation faded into a weak feeling of staying conscious in this paralysis.
Another long time passed, and no one was there to check me, or to keep me sane in this blackened shit. It would be a nice idea to resort to my unconscious for a while to reserve some energy for my telepathy. And so, reluctantly at first, I let myself slip off to unconscious, to that black sleep.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When I woke up, it was only a preternatural consciousness. I was still immobilized, though the atmosphere briefly changed, the airconditioner's hum was gone, replaced by the occupied sounds of hands and equipment. The pulse detector also was curiously gone, and fear lurked into my mind, troubling me of the change of atmosphere.
Despite the loud noise, I caught a peculiar sound in my head, a whisper? I was entirely sure it seemed amplified, separated from the other noise. Then there it was again, vibrating in my mind, reverberating in the walls of my mind.
[- Schuldig... -] I gasped mentally, surprised at the telepathy.
\I am awake. Who are you?\ I thought in German, thinking that this telepath must be in the same nationality as me, judging from the German-accented voice; and to add, I might be in Rosenkreuz, in Germany.
[- A telepath hired by Estet. Please wait for a moment, I would call your accomplice. -] Accomplice? Does he mean Crawford? I heard him calling some 'mister' and some loud footsteps drawing near me.
"Is he all right?" controlled, cold, but a bit troubled. Crawford.
[- He asks if you're all right. -]
\I can hear him. Tell him where the damn I am right now. And also tell him I'm paralyzed due to brain damage.\ the telepath told Crawford my demands in a monotone.
"Schuldig, we're in Estet's hospital, in Germany. Yes, I already know you're paralyzed, and currently you're in an operating room. They're fixing the damage caused in your brain. I apologize for the late action for your condition for I had difficulty seeing visions at that time." Crawford's voice was so rushed that it seemed hard to follow his words which were almost stringing in each other.
\Thank goodness. I might've gotten myself rotten in that damned hospital. Where are the others?\ The telepath immediately stated it to Crawford, as I thought of Farfarello. Where was he?
A moment of silence from the American before he spoke slowly. "They are in a hotel close from here. I haven't allowed them to come, especially Farfarello. His mind was apparently unstable, and was not able to reply coherent statements as I asked him... to go with me. Nagi had to guard him, and restrict him from ruining the rest of the hotel."
\What about my condition? Am I going to be fully cured? By the way, how many days have passed? It seemed to be fucking forever!\ The telepath hesitated for a moment, and deleted the swear word. \Hey!\ I protested, and chuckled mentally.
[- It wasn't necessary, sir. -]
\Well, fine! Though you ruined the effect of my words. Nevermind...\
"The doctors here are positive you'll return to your mobility, though after some days. Two days. Your telepathy might come back five hours after your operation. And you have been inert for week. Though... erm..." Crawford cleared his throat and almost chuckled. If I could just see him, I bet my double-breasted blazer that he is smirking. "Your physical appearance might disturb you after this process."
My thoughts raced after one another as the word 'physical' reached my ears. A bruise on the face would cause panic from me, so what would disturb me? A slash across the face? Three large, bulging bruise on the cheeks? A broken nose, perhaps? What the hell was that?
The telepath beside me cringed at the sort of thoughts I've been giving him, and I awarded myself a mental smirk for that. Finally, someone who actually KNOWS. I played with the telepath for a while and finalized my question.
\Tell him this: What is it that would disturb me, eh, stick-in-the-ass?\
"He asks: What is it that would disturb him?" the telepath translated.
\Hey! That's improper! Say stick-in-the-ass!\
[- Like I've said, it's unnecessary, sir. I'm sorry, but my job requires politeness and business stance. -] the telepath said with authority.
\You're no fun.\ Heeheehee. I love this! After what seemed like forever of boredom, at last I'm back to my normal self again. Thank goodness I didn't go insane from that impossible solitude.
The Oracle seemed to suppress a chuckle and came up with a 'hn' instead. He let a moment of silence from him then uttered a 'hn' once more. Damn him! It was physical business! I should know! "As you know, you're being operated ON the brain. And naturally, the doctors wouldn't approve of any hindrance to their job. Don't worry..." he finished huskily. A flap was heard, and I think he's pocketing his hands in his slacks. It took a while before I get what he's trying to say...
\OH DAMN! FUCK! ANYTHING BUT MY HAIR!\ I heard the telepath wince slightly, and a silent curse in German was uttered, barely audible. Hehehe. No, no laughing. Damn, how many years before I could grow that length of hair again? I would really kill that guy who threw me out of the window. However, on second thought, maybe he was terminated by Farfarello.
Then I remembered that time... Who was the one crying? The one touching my hand? \Hmmm... ask Crawford that if by any chance, he was the one who visited me and did those hentai thingies to me.\ This time the telepath said it in my words. I heard Crawford gasping and at once replying, 'No, I was not'.
"Mister Crawford, the operation had been finished. I request for you to step out because our patient needs his rest. And may I suggest, Mister Schuldig, that you resort to sleep now. Your mental shields are to be restored, as your telepathy would be rejuvenated." The doctor mandated, and I heard footsteps departing from the room. A silent 'ja mata' was heard as the door closed. The farewell words seemed to last in my mind for no reason at all. It exudes a different feeling of being protected. I liked it.
Suddenly I floated in the air, and I predicted it was a telekinetic controlling me. Several minutes later, I was lowered down to soft mattresses. Contemplating now would remain futile, so I left it hanging in my mind, letting myself sleep again.
It would take a while... Damn fucking while.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It wasn't a happy ending, may I remind you. This isn't a shitty fairy tale. Our life has been composed of blood and suffering; this goddamned life must be called a horror movie soon.
I was glad that spring was in full bloom here in Germany, or my bones would freeze with the post-winter effect. Years ago when we were assigned in Berlin in winter, it was a hell of white snow. Almost a feet of snow covered the ground, and even with my agility, it became hard for me to run as fast as I can on cemented road.
I recall that on that day when I woke up, with full consciousness, all with my telepathy and my mental shields, in the hotel room where my teammates were watching me, even Farfarello was there; I was delighted that that awful nightmare was over. I finally had to be pleased with the staff of Estet for bringing me to sanity once again. Though I hated them for one thing:
This damned hair. It had been cropped to the roots, and I almost looked like an egg with a scar on the back of the head. Farfarello, to my great annoyance, was entirely amused by the situation that he laughed hysterically when he saw me. Nagi was impassive as usual, but his shoulders were shaking like a ten-year old's. And Crawford? Don't ask. He creeped me out by laughing in front of my face. It was the first time I saw him laugh that HARD, and it was frightening beyond reason.
I had to nag Crawford over and over to give me a decent scarf or a cap or even a hat to hide this ridiculous head. He constantly ignored me, and resulted to Nagi giving me a moss green scarf "to match with my blazer".
And about Farfarello, it was unquestionably NOT a happy ending. The Irishman had been in his own world since I was cured. He was mindless and often playing with his knives in a corner, sometimes in front of the TV, watching some morbid movie. For three days of staying in Germany in that fancy hotel, he never gave a word to me, only the unintentionally brush of his shoulder to mine, and the unavoidable whisk of his sweet scent whenever he passed by me.
I felt pathetic to be trying to grasp a madman who evidently doesn't have a mind for such thing as this.
Right now we are waiting for our private plane to get home to Japan. It's more of a murdering country for me, having those Weiß kittens hurl at us everytime we were included in their supposed mission. However, it was our life, our damn life to be like that. We couldn't delete this life that has been intended just for us. We have no choice too.
Farfarello was in his straitjacket, controlled by Nagi, and I, with my scarf covering my head, was side by side with Crawford who donned his serious and cold trademark, his hands lazily resting on his sides. I looked at him, and he instantly returned it, seeing it coming in his mind.
I smirked. "Say, Crawffy..." I extended an arm to his shoulder, the perfume of his clothes lingering on my senses with a familiarity that I couldn't miss. I smirked once again when he shrugged my arm, rather startled.
"What?" he felt uncomfortable for a while, though his impassive face gave nothing. I sighed, and grinned knowingly. I decided to strike him using telepathy now, than with words.
[- I remember that time, Crawford. You thought I forget it, didn't you? -] Crawford stiffened, and I proceeded, locking my jade eyes with his cool amber ones. [- And I did not forget it. I knew it was you. Though I was so startled that a man as cold-blooded as you could CRY. -]
"You cared for me all these time," I whispered in his ear, not wasting a moment of this awfully sweet situation, drawing my hot breath to him. I felt him shiver for a fleeting moment before his usual stoic composure returned.
\Oh shit.\ Crawford's thought slipped into my mind, despite the coolness he projected. I smirked.
[- No, no shit. Even if you haven't done that, it might be broadcasted in the world in a different way. I'm too hard to resist, am I? What would you have done if I died in that nasty incident, hm? I bet, you would damn every creature you would see? Or carry your guilt forever in your mind until you starve yourself to death? Or would you choose to ignore it? -] I sneered at him. [- I don't think so, Crawford. Or may I call you BRAD now? -] I mentally chuckled, watching our private plane coming into view. The ladder shot down, Nagi and Farfarello entering at once.
I tore my stare from Crawford and followed the two. Before boarding the plane, I shot him a fake wistful gaze, my nose almost touching his. In a soft, clear voice, I said to him verbally this time: "Then what should we do about it?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Crawford automatically replied, and went ahead of me to the plane. I watched him as he climbed up, and proceeded inside. I wouldn't let this pass, I have the opportunity now. Especially with the fact that we are in a PRIVATE plane. I smirked again, following him, letting a last message in his head which might send a chill running up to his spine.
[- I bet... I don't think so. -]
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+.End.+
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As black as the night can get,
Everything is safer now.
There's always a way to forget
Once you learn to find a way how.
In the blur of serenity
Where did everything get lost?
The flowers of naivete
Buried in a layer of frost
The smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes
Thought he had it all before they called his bluff
Found out that his skin just wasn't thick enough
Wanted to go back to how it was before
Thought he lost everything
Then he lost a whole lot more
A fool's devotion
Swallowed up in empty space
The tears of regret
Frozen to the side of his face
I've done all I can do
Could I please come with you?
Sweet smell of sunshine
I remember sometimes.
- I'm looking forward to joining you, finally
- Nine Inch Nails
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Author's notes: Is it too weird and PWP? Oh gee, I don't know too. Oh well, I've done everything I can do about this fic (yup, and it's the longest one-shot I've ever written!) and might come up with a Crawford-centered or Nagi-centered fic to complete Schwarz. So what do you think about my fic? How about a review? Enlighten me please. Thanks a lot for reading! ^-^ 10:10 PM 4/4/03