Well, it has returned! Yay! I decided, since quite a few people had been enjoying the story, that I would stick it back up. I have written a few new chapters since it was taken down (due to the NC17 ruling) and I have re- written a few parts as well. Mostly just honed the ideas a bit more, and added a bit more history. I actually tweaked the history of this story a little, since I know more about Schwarz now than I did at the time I wrote this. The chapters are going to be longer this time around, so if you remember there having been more chapters in it's original posting, that's why. I know when I'm reading a story I prefer longer updates. ^_^ Anyways, I'll be posting all the old chapters up fairly quickly over the next few days, and depending on how quickly my re-writing/revising goes, I might even get to some of the newer material. I'll be away all next week, so if nothing "new" goes up this week before Sunday, you'll have to wait that much longer. My apologies. ^_^

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That familiar sharp sting, leaving his right cheek tingling. Next would come the assault on his ears, on his mind. He hated being yelled at, he hated being told over and again how stupid he was, how careless. But it always came.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You can't honestly expect me to believe you were actually thinking out there, can you? I swear; times like this make me wonder why the hell I keep you around."

"Then get rid of me! Fire me; send me back to Estet, whatever the hell it is you do when we become useless to you. Just stop yelling at me." The German swivelled around in his chair, waiting for a reply to his statement. The one he got wasn't the one he had been expecting.

"Right. That's exactly what I'll do. Because you were just some random thing I picked up off the damn shelf in Rosenkreuz." The American sat down in the chair across from his team mate, leaning forward, his arms supporting his head as he rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry I slapped you. You just make me so angry sometimes. Is it so much to ask for you to pay a little more attention to what you're doing? Just once?"

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry I almost got myself killed? That would make it sound as though you actually cared." Schuldich didn't bother looking at Crawford as he spoke, just throwing the words at the American, baiting him.

"Oh fuck off. Do you get some sick pleasure out of making me tell you I care about you? Do the words even mean anything to you? Look at me Schuldich, at least give me that much." Crawford watched as the young nineteen-year-old German turned around, finally meeting his eyes. Schuldich couldn't hold the gaze for long, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Yeah, I expected that much. You know; until you grow up, don't bother with me anymore. I'm really sick of your childish antics. Sometimes I wish I hadn't bothered to find you. Maybe I should have let her keep you. She seemed to have a much better grip on you than I ever will." Crawford stood up, slamming the door behind him as he left the study. Schuldich slumped down in his chair, sighing dejectedly to himself. ~Oh and one more thing Schu, I'm not sorry I slapped you at all! You deserved it!~ Crawford's end of the conversation came slamming into the German's head, as he opened his mental barrier and allowed the German in this one time, so he could get his last words in. It was quickly shut off again, before Schuldich could get a word in. The German cursed himself as he felt his eyes starting to tear up, he wasn't supposed to cry damn it! He wasn't supposed to care what Crawford thought of him, wasn't supposed to care that Crawford cared about him. He wasn't supposed to care about Crawford. But he did. And he hated himself for it.

Unable to sit and stew over his situation anymore, the German left their apartment, heading out into the night; into the comfort of the darkness, and into the waiting arms of those who wanted him back.

It was nearing midnight, and Schuldich had been out walking for over an hour. His feet were slightly sore, his legs were stiff, and his mind was just a little less cluttered than it had been before. But his heart was still in turmoil. He lit up another cigarette as he reached one of the few parks around Tokyo, the serene glow it took on in the midnight hours drawing the German into it. He stood at the gate to the park, letting his mind wander as he shut his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature coming from within. He blocked out everything around him, only listening to the croaking of the frogs and the splashing of the midnight geese. As hard as he tried not to think about Crawford, he couldn't help but fill his head with thoughts about the American. "So what if Crawford says he cares about me, he just wants my telepathic powers, that's all, nothing more. Nothing could ever work out between us, I'm not the type of person he should have. I can't love him the way he loves me, that is if he actually did love me, which he doesn't, cause you don't hit people you love, and now I'm reverting to using stupid catch phrases for anti-family battering groups to try and convince myself there's nothing there, fuck am I pathetic." Schuldich sucked in the last of his cigarette, before throwing the glowing butt on the ground and stamping it out. He was so caught up in his thoughts, so out of tune with everything around him, that he never heard the car pull up behind him, never heard the door open, and never heard the footsteps behind him. All he felt was a sudden prick in his neck, and then everything started fading to black. He was aware of strong arms catching him as he fell, aware of being dragged a few steps to the awaiting limousine, aware of being thrown inside, aware of the familiar face staring down at him, aware of the same familiar grin that had scared him so all those years ago-

*flashback*

"A student at Rosenkreuz, are we? How interesting. How lovely." The redhead stood still, for once in his life silenced. He watched as the petite blonde woman circled him, her eyes roaming over him with a certain hunger that made him rather uncomfortable. "I could use you, you would work out very well. My other toys keep breaking on me. But you, you have already been subject to so much, you would last a long time, I believe. Would you like to stay with me, and be my toy?" He again was at a loss for words. He never would have imagined that he would actually want to go back to that blasted school, but even it would be a comfort next to this woman. There was just something about her that did not sit well with him. Not at all.

*end flashback*

"Hello. You look just as pathetic as you always did." Schuldich muttered a soft and faint refusal of what was happening to him, refusing to believe he was in the grasp of the same demented people again. But as he willed his eyes to stay open, willed himself to fight against the drugs that had been injected into his system, and stared into the smirking face of the woman seated in front of him, he felt a sharp pang in his head, and a constriction in his throat, barely able to breathe. He heard her in his head, heard the same fearful laugh she had always had before, and heard the same words she had always uttered to him before, "I own you". He finally lapsed into an unconscious state, as he was transported by car to the airport, flown by personal jet back to the hell on earth he had been lost in but a few years ago, where he would promptly be lost again. Crawford occupied his last thoughts before he completely blacked out, as Schuldich wished his last words with the American could have been sweeter, as he feared he would never see his leader again.