Chapter Ten

"I…of course I know where you're coming from, it's just…the Organization wants your team to consist of three psychics: you, Sylvia and a tank. Schuldig is going back to the Psychics Center for additional training and socialization while you start assignment in Tokyo. That's the plan."

"I know. That's why I came to you for help in changing it." Brad answered, idly stirring his tea. Blanca frowned, lost in thought.

"Deviating from their plans isn't impossible, but eliminating Sylvia from your team entirely and taking an excursion to Ireland to pick up an unknown Talent is." She said, shaking her head.

"It's not impossible. I've Seen it, I just don't know how to make it happen. Sylvia isn't going to be in my team. Schuldig is, and so is Farfarello-"

"The Irish boy-"

"Right. And a little telekinetic boy named Nagi. He's only four or five years old right now, but it's not like I'm heading to Tokyo anytime soon anyway."

"If you would consider having Sylvia on your team you could be there by the Spring." Blanca pointed out.

"Sylvia's not going to be on my team."

"Well why the hell not? She's a prodigiously talented telekinetic, and it's not every telekinetic you meet who can access thoughts, however weakly. She's practically perfect with every martial arts technique we can even think of to show her, she's the perfect assassin. And she's loyal to you. Why are you passing on her Brad?"

"Because in the long run she's not going to be that loyal." Brad muttered. Blanca shook her head.

"As long as you behave as a responsible leader, which you will, she'll do anything you ask. She's very professional, and she's got a good head on her shoulders as far as authority and hierarchy goes…unlike Schuldig. You know he's going to have problems as long as he's in Rosenkreuz-"

"Which is why I'm pushing for Esset, who will be relatively hands off with us while we're in Tokyo." He answered calmly.

Blanca shook her head. She still looked troubled. "Well I don't see why you can't have Sylvia in your group in addition to Schuldig. I know they don't get along right now-"

"Blanca, are you going to help me or lecture me to death?" Brad asked. Blanca sighed loudly.

"Fine. I have a meeting with a contact in the Organization in two days. I'll bring up the Ireland proposition, as persuasively as I can, but I wouldn't expect anything this year, at least. I'll have to ask a few times before they consider saying yes. It is an odd request."

"I know."

"But you're already a respected precog dear, I think they'll be responsive enough in time." She put her tea down and walked over to the kitchen window. It was snowing outside. Maybe it was the way the light was hitting her, but for some reason she looked very tired suddenly. The lines on her face were standing out almost as much as the light brown freckles on her nose and there was a grayish pallor to her skin. Her straw-blond hair hung limply around her face. When they had first met, her hair had been healthy and curly and she'd looked very young. Clearly looking after the demanding teens was taking a toll on her.

Brad wondered how old she was. He'd never thought to ask. Come to think of it he didn't know very much about Blanca, but he confided in her more than anyone except Schuldig. He trusted her, and he couldn't quite pinpoint why. It wasn't that she was nice, plenty of people in Rosenkreuz pretended to be nice. There was simply something genuine about her. He'd seen her vicious side before, but as far as he, Schuldig and Sylvia were concerned she seemed sincerely interested in their wellbeing.

Brad's musings were interrupted by a crash, quickly followed by the sound of breaking furniture, and raised voices. It was coming from Rourke's room, where the telepaths had been training.

Brad and Blanca both ran to the bedroom, not waiting for the shouting to stop. They found Sylvia doing her best to restrain a screaming Rourke without resorting to hurting him, but considering his size and hers, she'd have to injure him somehow to restrain him for any length of time. Schuldig was screaming as well, but he was also getting up from where he'd landed after being thrown into a wooden dresser, one of the drawers of which was now cracked.

"I'll do it again, get the fuck out of my head! You don't need to be that far in to teach me how to get past level three shielding!"

"You don't know where the fuck I have to be to teach you jack shit, and you do not get to talk to me that way! Let go of me you witch, I'm going to knock some respect into that effing menace!"

Brad rushed forward to grab Rourke before he hurt Sylvia too. Blanca helped Schuldig to his feet and started fussing over him.

"Let me see your back honey, that's where you hit the dresser, isn't it?"

"I'm okay Miss Blanca, leave me alone!" Schuldig snapped. "Get out my head damn you!" And then Schuldig surprised them all. Normally he focused on getting away from Rourke after he'd angered the man enough to make him hurt the teen. This time he took advantage of the fact that Brad was holding Rourke back to dive forward and hit his nose with the heel of his hand. Rourke's head snapped back very quickly and there was a sickening crunch as his nose was broken.

"Schuldig!" Blanca cried.

Sylvia kicked Schuldig in the stomach so that he fell over, and couldn't do anything else to the pinned man.

Brad tightened his grip on Rourke momentarily, but when it became apparent the blow had knocked the fight out of him he released the stunned telepath, who sat down very quickly on his bed, cupping his hand to his face to keep his bleeding nose from dripping onto his duvet.

Schuldig sat up from where he'd landed on the ground, one hand holding his sore stomach where Sylvia had kicked him, but there was a pleased smile on his face. Sylvia was still poised to strike. She looked on edge, ready to act in a fraction of a second. Blanca was breathing heavily, face white.

"Are you okay Alan?" Blanca finally asked.

"I need to get this looked at." Rourke answered quietly.

"Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?" Blanca offered.

"I certainly can't drive myself."

"Alright. Alright, I'll just…get my coat. You kids should clean up while we're gone. I'll be right back just…please behave." She looked dazed.

"Mr. Rourke, do you want me to get a cloth for your nose?" Sylvia asked timidly.

"Yes, yes thank you my dear." He answered.

Brad finally recovered from his shock. He grabbed Schuldig by the collar of his shirt and yanked him to his feet and from the room. He pushed him into their bedroom and slammed the door. Schuldig stumbled, lost his footing and ended up sprawled on the hardwood floor. He groaned as he rubbed his back.

"Ah! You know I was just thrown into a dresser, right?" He snapped.

"You probably deserved it." Brad spat.

"What? How can you think that?" Schuldig demanded, sitting up gingerly.

"What does the phrase play their game mean to you Schuldig?" He asked.

"Well it doesn't mean let Rourke do whatever he wants with me, if that's what you're getting at. There are some things no one is allowed to do to me, and digging that far into my psyche is one of them." Schuldig answered, venom in his tone. There was a dangerous look in his eyes Brad didn't like.

"Keep pushing him and you're going to be transferred."

"Fine. He can transfer me now just so long as I'm away from him." Schuldig spat.

"Transferred without me!" Brad yelled. "And without me helping you, you are not going to get out of Rosenkreuz. You'll be lucky if you live a year without someone losing their temper and killing you. You are the most infuriating person to be with, you-you live to piss people off, you know that?"

"Brad stop it, you're starting to sound like him." Schuldig pleaded.

"You are though! I mean, every time I ask you to do something you do the opposite! Do you think I ask you to be nice to Rourke for my sake? What he does to you has no effect on me, I ask you for your own sake! When you insult him and piss him off, he becomes more obsessive over putting you in your place. What happens to you is directly your own fault because you can't follow orders."

"Brad shut up! I don't want to hear this from you, you think it enough already and it's not fucking true! I can't do anything to make Rourke stop, he's already obsessed with me and you know what, I'm sick of you going on about how disappointed in me you are whenever I fight back because you'd fight back too!"

"What you're doing isn't fighting back, it's throwing gasoline on a fire." Brad snapped. "Are you crying?" Later on he'd regret how disgusted he'd sounded.

"Well let's see, I got thrown into a dresser then kicked in the stomach and then thrown onto the floor. It fucking hurt you asshole!"

Brad snorted in revulsion. Schuldig was on his feet before he could blink. He punched him in the stomach, which, granted, didn't hurt all that much, but the kid had never raised a hand to him before.

Before Brad could recover from his shock the bedroom door was slammed shut. Schuldig's sweatshirt was gone.

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Three nights later Brad was staring at Schuldig's empty bed, regretting losing his temper with him. It was cold outside, and the city was expecting it to start snowing at any minute. Schuldig hadn't so much as brushed minds with any of his housemates to let them know he was alive, and try as they might the two precogs couldn't find a trace of him in any visions.

The distant future hadn't altered, so Brad knew that in a few years' time they'd be in Tokyo with the rest of their assassin team, but in the mean time he didn't know if his friend was safe.

There was a knock on his door. Brad looked up hopefully as Sylvia poked her head into the room.

"He's not back yet." She murmured, catching the disappointed look on his face.

"Oh." He laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

She crossed the room and sat down on his desk chair. "You're taking this hard Brad. I'm sure he's okay…I don't think you need to be so worried."

"It's my fault. I yelled at him."

"Rourke yells at him all the time-"

"But I don't."

She bit her lip. "I'm glad he's gone. He's starting to scare me."

"You mean because of…the thing with your…"

"Rape?" She finished. "Yeah, mostly that. Although I've noticed he's changed a lot. He used to be so weak, and he's still immature. But he's not weak anymore, which is why I'm not scared for him."
"But you're worried about what he's going to do?" Brad asked.

"I know what he's capable of." She muttered. "You're lucky he's never shown that side towards you. I suppose you knew enough to befriend him early."

"He's not a monster-"

"He's on his way." She insisted. "I'm sorry, I know you care about him. I'll stop."

"Sylvia…" He closed his eyes, and wished like hell he'd never Seen anything about her. But the visions had gotten worse. He'd Seen them as adults, and he'd witnessed himself shooting her in the face. Now every time he looked at her he was wracked with guilt.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and to tell you not to be too hard on yourself. That's all." She got up to leave. Brad got up and stopped her. He couldn't have told her why, but he didn't want her to leave. Then again he wasn't thinking very clearly at the moment. The more he thought about things the more worried and tired he felt.

Sylvia turned to face him, eyes wide and questioning. She looked almost innocent, and somehow that was more effective than any attempt at playing vixen she'd ever made. Maybe he just liked feeling like he could protect someone.

He pushed her hair back from her face. It was so soft and shiny, it felt almost like a cool satin sheet against his fingers.

He kissed her, not because it was justified by any vision of the future as okay but simply because at that moment it felt right.

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Schuldig walked in some hours later, cold and wet. He kicked his snow filled sneakers off by the doorway, glared at the empty fireplace and continued to his bedroom. He wanted to grab some pajamas, take a hot shower and finally sleep in a warm bed after three days of sleeping wherever he ended up.

He was very disappointed then, when he went to open his bedroom door and it was locked. He hadn't brought his key with him. "The fucking front door isn't locked, what the hell?" He muttered. He knocked on the door. "Brad, lemme in. I need dry clothes."

The door remained closed. He figured maybe Brad was asleep, and therefore the answer was to be louder. He banged as hard as he could on the door, but the door remained stubbornly closed. Rourke, however, poked his head out of his own room and told Schuldig to keep it the fuck down.

"Wait a minute, when did you get back?" Rourke asked. Schuldig was pleased to see the bandage over his nose.

"Just now." Schuldig answered, glaring at his locked bedroom door. "I need dry clothes and Brad locked me out."

"I can loan you pajamas." Rourke offered.

"That's okay." Schuldig refused. "I want my clothes." 'And I'm not stupid enough to voluntarily go into your bedroom.'

"Well that door's not opening kiddo. So you can sleep in your wet clothes on the couch or you can come in here and get some pajamas. It's up to you." Rourke snapped.

Schuldig sighed. He was gross from wandering Quebec City for so long, his hair was greasy in addition to dead and the snow had soaked through all his clothes, even his underwear. He was shivering where he stood.

"Fine." And now he had yet another reason to be pissed at Brad.