Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz
Chapter 25: For Now
Finally… a vision.
It had been over a month, and Brad was finding it extremely difficult to keep the hounds out of the hunt. Nagi had been beaten up twice before he had been able to get permission to move the boy back into the apartment. Farfarello was as difficult as ever. And Schu was still missing.
He had lodged a formal complaint against Schultz, using the journal as evidence. As he had expected, nothing had really been done to the older man beyond a slap on the wrist, but now he knew that Crawford knew. The man was openly hostile toward him; he had always hidden it before. If Brad ever heard about him touching Schu again, he wouldn't bother to protest… he would simply shoot the bastard.
He couldn't help feeling that he had let Schuldich down. He tried to convince himself that there was no way he could have known without a vision or the redhead talking to him. But that didn't really help all that much. He had made himself responsible for the German telepath, for good or for ill, and as such, he was as much to blame as Schultz. Well, maybe not quite as much to blame, but he did have to share some of it.
As did Schuldich.
But at last, a vision, the first glimpse of the frustrating redhead that he had. He wasn't reassured by what he saw. It looked as though the young man had finally fallen into the trap many telepaths stumbled into. It appeared that he had finally turned to drugs in an effort to calm the noise in his head. From the condition Schuldich looked to be in, it wasn't working.
Crawford quickly showered and pulled on clothing. He would have to be swift if he was to make it to Paris in time.
**
It seemed as though a dam had broken. That first vision was followed by others as the cramped commuter jet Crawford was traveling on soared though the airspace between Berlin and Paris. There was something else going on with Schuldich. Something beyond Schultz's abuse. He didn't believe that alone would make the redhead turn to drugs, he hadn't when he'd run before. It was possible that everything had finally pushed him over the edge, but he got the feeling that wasn't it. Schuldich was petty and vindictive and dangerous as Hell when he was pissed, and he didn't fold easily. Which meant something else was influencing the redhead.
For some reason, Crawford's memories flashed back to the German's previous instructor. An equally petty and vindictive little bitch that had very nearly succeeded in ruining any potential Schuldich had. He wondered idly how much better the young man would be if he had started with a decent trainer.
He remembered the night the bitch had died. Very quietly, very quickly, from a precisely placed bullet to the center of her forehead. The murder had never been solved, not that Schultz had pressed too deeply. Come to think of it, that was about the time Schuldich started to act strangely. Perhaps the reason the headmaster hadn't pursued the death was because he had personally punished the murderer, in his own sadistic way. But that wouldn't account for all the mental stress in the German's head.
But it WAS possible that the bitch had done 'something' to him before her untimely death.
The more he thought about it… the more likely that was. They all studied not only their own gifts, but the basics of the others as well. It was good to know what your superiors/subordinates/teammates were capable of. And what they weren't. The strengths and weaknesses of each power were taught to all. And more than the basics were offered to potential leaders. Crawford had a better than passing familiarity with telepathy. Hopefully it would be enough to restore Schu to some semblance of balance. Because otherwise…
Otherwise the kindest thing Brad could do, would be to put a bullet in the German's head.
**
Due to one of those handy premonitions during his flight, Brad knew where to go, and unfortunately what he would find. He took a taxi to the area Schu was 'living' in and got out, after reassuring the driver that 'yes, he did want to get out there'. The man took his money and drove away as fast as he could. The American didn't blame him; he didn't like being in this area either. He walked down the streets, filled with drug addicts, homeless drunks, and prostitutes. He opened his coat so his gun was visible to deter the first two and sneered at the latter. Outside the building Schuldich had taken up residence in, he grimaced. This was NOT going to be pleasant.
He walked up to the fourth floor, stepping over piles of trash and the occasional passed out alcoholic. There it was, room 418… or was it 413… the paint was barely visible. The door was locked; at least Schuldich had been THAT aware when he'd returned. Fortunately Brad wasn't a half-bad lock pick and he soon entered the dingy apartment. He made a face at the condition of the place. If he had any choice he would simply burn the place down.
He heard a faint sound from one side of what appeared to be a combined living/bedroom. Lying next to the bed, on the cold hard floor, was Schuldich. Crawford paled, seeing him. It was worse than even his visions had indicated. The young man was painfully thin, deep bruise-like shadows under his eyes, his skin wasn't so much pale as gray, and his arms were covered in needle tracks. He was also whimpering.
His heart, previously rumored around Rosenkreuz not to exist, went out to the telepath. He once again thanked the Fates that he wasn't gifted in that way. Crossing to the room, he knelt and let his own power cancel the redhead's out. He wasn't sure why… but for some reason his talents acted as a buffer for Schuldich's. He saw those paper thin eyelids flutter… then the redhead actually tried to sit up. He put a quick hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Don't try to move, Schuldich."
The German let himself fall back to the bed. He frowned. When he spoke, his voice was thin and hoarse. "B..brad?"
Maybe he wasn't beyond help. "Shhh. Just relax. I'm going to lift you now." He could see the redhead turn a little green. "Okay?" Schuldich didn't answer, just nodded, and Brad eased him onto the pathetic excuse for a bed as gently as he could. He looked around and saw a blanket that had been kicked off to the floor. He shook it out, mindful of mice or rats that might have taken up residence, then tucked it in around the shivering German. Trying not to disturb the telepath, he sat on the edge of the bed, hoping that silence in his head would bring Schuldich some comfort.
He felt a tentative touch in his mind and dropped his normally impenetrable shields. ~Brad?~ Even Schuldich's mental voice sounded tired.
"You've really made a mess of yourself this time. Why do you do this?" He wanted to be supportive and caring… but Crawford had to establish that this wouldn't be tolerated again. He could be comforting after he drilled this into the stubborn German's skull.
~I couldn't take it anymore…~
/Well THAT was obvious./ He closely guarded his thoughts. "What? The training?" /And Schultz's abuse… I should have just killed the bastard./
~Among other things…~
"YOU IDIOT! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" He instantly felt sorry as the telepath groaned.
~Can you knock off the shouting? Besides, what can you do? You're a slave to THEM too.~
Did he REALLY think him so incapable of helping? Not caring for his team… or what would be his team. Against his will, and certainly against his better judgment, Crawford found himself getting angry. "This is MY team dammit! I'm the one in control here."
~I sure hope so… cause I know, I'm not…~
He instantly felt sorry. Schuldich… Bren… was in no shape for this conversation. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, it had been a very long day. And it would probably be a longer night if Bren was going to be going through withdrawal. "We'll get you through this, Bren. You know that, don't you? But I have to tell you, Nagi's upset you left, didn't eat for days. Farfarello has been more difficult than ever. You are needed by Schwarz. Forget Esset. Another year at the most and we'll be out of there. I can help you get clean. Find a trainer who is at least halfway human to work with you. Or I'll leave you here, and you will most likely die. It's your choice."
He had to give the redhead the choice. He wasn't going to be able to dominate him the way he would Nagi and Farfarello. Bren had to make the choice to come… it had to be a joining of equals, or Schwarz would never work. Schuldich was too much of a maverick to accept anything less.
He watched the young man ponder his options. There really were only two, the only two anyone ever really had… to live… or to die.
The redhead cleared his throat, and in the barest audible whisper… "I'll go with you."
Crawford nodded. It would have to do, for now.
TBC