Author: Kerianne
Author: Kerianne
Email: mpike@froggernet.com
Title: Whatever Tomorrow Brings
Type: Series (2/?)
Teaser: Before Schwarz was Schwarz, there was only a group of
young boys banding together to fight against a nearly unbeatable
foe...
Spoilers: A bit of spoilage for the drama tracks, I suppose.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, possible yaoi later on... violence...
probably angst... AU...
Keywords: Brad Crawford, Schwarz, past, Rosenkreuz
*.....* = italics
~.....~ = thoughts
Chapter 2:
"Well?"
The young monitor closed his eyes briefly,
scanning quickly through the events of the recent past in his
mind, then began his daily report. "Subject 28 has a new
roommate, sir."
"Really." Farblos raised an eyebrow.
"Is he.... exceptional?"
"We're not sure yet, sir. He is one
of our new students, so we haven't had time to bring him in
for testing."
"Make it a priority."
The monitor nodded, then coughed a little
nervously. "Subject 12... er... well, sir, we had no
choice... she attempted escape...."
"What are you telling me,
McAllister?"
McAllister avoided his boss's eyes.
"We were forced to bring Subject 12 in for evaluation."
The cool silence that followed this
announcement seemed to drag on forever. McAllister was debating
whether it would be less painful to leap through the glass
windows at the back of the office or to remain and suffer the
wrath of his boss when Farblos spoke again. "Did I not make
myself clear enough when I said that the subjects were not to be
evaluated without my permission?"
"Sir, we--"
"How many times has this happened now? How
much potential has been wasted? How many times have we allowed
the sharpest minds of this institution to be turned to
mush?"
"Sir, I assure you that I had nothing to
do with it-- I was not present at the time-- it was
Carlisle's decision--"
"Enough babbling, McAllister, you're
not to blame," Farblos said absentmindedly, a look of--
almost *worry*, his subordinate realized-- passing over
his face. "Anything else of importance?"
"No sir, everything's running
smoothly, I'll be taking my leave now then?" The young
monitor was already making his way toward the door by the time
his boss gave him permission to leave. Once in the hallway, he
breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he *hadn't* been
involved. Farblos' anger was not to be taken lightly; a
former military general, the man could probably come up with some
very unpleasant forms of punishment.
Now alone in his office, the headmaster of
Rosenkreuz sat staring out the window and thinking. Something had
to be done about Stephen Carlisle. But he shuddered to think of
what would happen to the person who attempted to do it.
Never before in the sixty-two years of his life
had Farblos found another person of whom he was truly afraid. He
had always been physically as well as mentally strong. His
physical ablilities combined with his status as one of the top
five most powerful telepaths in the world had always basically
eliminated any doubts of his own superiority. Quite simply, he
was fearless.
But in Stephen Carlisle and his protege, the
old military man had finally found something to be afraid of.
* * * * *
The dining room was much like the rest of the
school, Brad noted, allowing himself to be dragged past table
after table by his rather enthusiastic roommate. Unremarkable.
The walls were white, spotless, the kind that were so clean you
just wanted to smear something on them to destroy the purity.
Brad smirked a little, momentarily picturing
the whole place breaking out into a food fight. But the students
he saw at most of the tables were much like the room itself--
clean, pure, unremarkable. Your typical prep-school types. And,
of course, they were all dressed in the basic Rosenkreuz uniform.
White shirt, black tie, black pants, black shoes. Both Schu and
Brad were wearing it as well. Schu looked good, Brad had to
admit. Something about the contrast of the loose strands of fire
tumbling over the pristine white shirt...
As if he was listening (and he probably was),
Schu shook his hair back behind his shoulders and turned his head
a little to look at Brad. "Our table's coming up.
Don't be too surprised... some of em look a little...
unconventional." He gave his usual flippant grin, and
abruptly stopped.
Blinking, Brad looked up, and was greeted by
the slightly unnerving feeling of five pairs of eyes regarding
him-- some coldly, some suspiciously, some not really caring.
Schu didn't seem bothered by his friends'
less-than-enthusiastic reaction to Brad's presence, and
motioned to the American that he should sit down. "Hey,
guys. This is my new roommate, Brad Crawford. Be nice to
him."
The atmosphere lightened a little, but Brad
could tell that the others were still keeping an eye on him. He
was no empath, but he got the feeling that this wasn't a
very trusting bunch. Uneasily he smiled at the girl across the
table from him, who was watching him with narrowed, cat-like
green eyes.
"I s'pose I should make
introductions, hmm?" Schuldig glanced at his nervous
roommate and smirked a little. Brad glared back, irritated that
the redhead seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.
Schu began to rattle off names, but Brad found
himself a bit distracted when he spotted the boy at the end of
the table. He looked to be about Schu's age, perhaps a
little younger. His hair was silvery-white and cropped close to
his head, and his skin was almost as pale as his hair. What made
him striking were his eyes, a blazing shade of golden-amber that
seemed to glow with intelligence and... something else, something
not quite sane. He seemed uninterested in the conversation,
staring off into space and boredly toying with his silverware.
Suddenly Brad found his attention brought back
to Schuldig by way of a considerable smack on the arm from the
redhead. "I wouldn't stare at Farf if I were you,
he's likely to just get up and throw that knife he's
holding right at your head."
The silver-haired boy looked up lazily, a smile
touching his pale lips. "You're gonna scare him
off." His voice was surprisingly soft, and a light Irish
accent gave it a somewhat musical quality.
Schuldig laughed. "That's
Farfarello," he said, turning back to Brad. "Not his
real name, but he won't tell any of us what that is. Great
guy, cept he's a little crazy."
"Not much crazier'n you," the
Irish boy answered good-naturedly.
"You might have a point there."
Schuldig gave a wry half-smile. "Well, anyway, that's
the whole group of em. Well, almost. One of us isn't
here yet, lazy bastard that he is. He should be along soon-- ah,
here he comes...."
The boy moving toward them was tall, lanky,
built much like Schu. His hair was shoulder-length, wavy, and a
deep shade of honey-brown. His eyes were obscured by the
sunglasses perched on his nose.
"New friend, eh?" The newcomer took a
seat beside Schu, raising an eyebrow at the redhead.
"Introduce me."
Schu grinned. "Bradley Crawford, meet
Yohji Kudou."
* * * * *
"Ah... Mr. Carlisle, sir?"
Stephen Carlisle looked up slowly from his desk
and flashed a charismatic grin at the young monitor. "Yes,
McAllister?"
"Mr. Farblos, er... well, he asked me to
tell you that Subject 28's roommate should be brought
in."
"For evaluation?" Carlisle's
dark eyes seemed to light up a little.
"No, no... just for interviewing. We need
to know if he's... exceptional." McAllister swallowed
hard. Speaking with Carlisle always made him very nervous; the
man seemed to have a bloodthirsty streak to him, despite his
clean-cut, attractive appearance.
"Ahhh. I see... did Farblos say anything
else?" Carlisle leaned forward, fixing eyes that had
suddenly turned to steel on the very apprehensive McAllister.
"Er... well... nothing much, just..."
"I'll remind you that anything you
don't tell me, I can find out myself." The man grinned
again, this time with a more dangerous edge.
"Well... he said he wasn't quite
pleased with the number of people you've been calling in for
evaluation, sir. He wanted me to remind you that... that you have
to get it cleared with him first before you evaluate any of the
subjects under surveillance." McAllister finished speaking
in a rush, and took a deep breath. Messenger of bad news for the
second time in one day. They were *definitely* not paying
him enough for this job.
"I see..." Carlisle said
thoughtfully. "And what do *you* think?"
The young monitor made the mistake of
responding. "Well... sir, I really think maybe you *have*
been going a little overboard with the evaluating, I mean, if
Farblos wishes you to consult him first then you... you..."
He trailed off, realizing too late that another small figure had
stepped up beside Carlisle at the desk, and found his source of
air suddenly cut off. Choking, he sank to his knees on the carpet
of Carlisle's office, one hand wrapped around his throat,
the other clawing at the air.
Carlisle watched the whole spectacle with a
wide smile, a sort of twisted joy dancing in his eyes. "Did
you say you had a problem with the way I do things,
McAllister?"
"N-- no... of-- of c-course not,
sir...." McAllister croaked, vision blurring to black around
the edges.
"I thought not." Carlisle nodded to
the small figure beside him-- a young dark-haired boy, no more
than seven or eight years old, with serious, cold midnight eyes.
"Thank you, David. You may go now. Tell Mariana that I said
to give you an extra cookie with your dinner tonight."
McAllister collapsed onto the floor, wheezing
and gulping air into his starved lungs. Still smiling, Carlisle
stood up from his desk and walked across the room to stand over
the younger man. "You are dismissed, McAllister." Then,
without offering a hand or making any attempt to help the other
man up, he walked away.
The monitor closed his eyes, still breathing
hard. ~*Definitely* not paying me enough for this job.~
* * * * *
~Will this meal ever end?~
Brad stared off into space, praying for
something-- anything-- to concentrate on, besides the loud and
animated conversation his roommate and Yohji were having about
the porno magazines that a friend of a friend of a friend had
managed to sneak in for them last Tuesday. He had the strangest
feeling that Schu and Yohji were... well... *involved*.
The way they looked at each other, touched each other, the easy
way they talked together... Yes, there was definitely something
going on. If they weren't an item, they were at least
sleeping together. Both of those options made Brad feel a little
bit uncomfortable, although he wasn't completely sure why.
He couldn't be jealous-- they'd only just met! ~I
just don't like the idea that my roommate could be screwing
random people while I'm in the room, that's all,~
he thought decisively. Then he did his best to push the thoughts
out of his mind. He didn't want Schu picking up on these
particular thoughts-- the mischevious redhead would never let him
hear the end of it.
Both Yohji and Schu were laughing. Brad
wasn't sure about what; he'd been tuning out their
conversation. Then Yohji reached out and grabbed Schu's arm,
excitedly beginning to tell him something.
Without thinking, Brad coughed loudly, and the
table went silent. The young clairvoyant felt his face burn, and
he scrambled for some excuse to interrupt the conversation.
"Er... um... Yohji, what are you here for?" he asked
finally.
The blond looked a bit put out at having been
interrupted, but he answered the question anyway.
"Precognitive. Been here for two years now-- not as long as
Schu has, but long enough."
Brad's eyes narrowed. ~He didn't
*need* to mention Schu then. He just wanted an excuse to talk
about him. I bet he's the obsessive type. People like that
just make me sick...~ He quickly curbed his thoughts, as they
were sounding more and more jealous as he went on. "Uh... me
too!"
"Great." Yohji rolled his eyes, then
quickly picked up his conversation with Schu again. Sighing, Brad
picked up his fork and poked the rubbery-looking meat on his
plate. He'd eaten the vegetables and the salad, but the main
course looked completely inedible. Too bad-- at least eating
would be something to take his mind off the fact that everyone at
the table, with the possible exception of Schu, thought he was a
world-class dork.
"Don't worry about him. He's a
little blunt, but you'll get used to it." Brad looked
up at the source of the soft voice, the boy seated beside him,
who he hadn't even noticed before. The boy was small and
young-looking, but his face looked mature, so Brad guessed he was
probably about 15. He had soft white-blond hair and large
cornflower-blue eyes that gave him an odd air of fragility. Brad
tried to remember his name... something with a T...
"Tobias." The boy laughed softly, and
Brad realized he had to be a telepath. "It's all right.
I'm used to being forgotten." His voice carried a note
of melancholy that made Brad take notice.
"Nice to meet you, Tobias. It's not
that I forgot you, it's just that... well... I kind of tuned
the introductions out a bit. Schu's so... er...
talkative."
Tobias laughed again. "I know what you
mean. I'm not talkative... I'm a good listener,
unfortunately no one really talks to me."
Brad found his heart going out to the boy-- he
looked so young and lonely suddenly, blue eyes wide and full of
sadness. "Hey, don't worry about it. Listen to them-- I
don't think you're really missing much." He rolled
his eyes. Yohji and Schu's boisterous conversation had now
turned to the possible places Rosenkreuz could be going to get
their food, none of which were particularly appetizing, all of
which the two boys thought were positively hilarious.
"Good point. Well, anyway, I just wanted
to tell you not to let Yohji get you down too much. Like I said,
he's blunt."
"Yeah, I see that..." Brad trailed
off. "Um, are they... well..."
"Involved?" Tobias smiled slightly.
"Yes and no. They've had an off-and-on thing going for
as long as I've been here, a year. Possibly before that,
I'm not sure. I don't think it's serious,
though... more of a mutual agreement. Satisfying each
other's needs, you could say."
Brad nodded wordlessly, a little surprised at
the sudden bolt of anger that had just struck him. Was he
jealous? He really had no reason to be...
"I'd watch it if I were you."
"Huh?" Brad looked up at the small
blond boy.
Tobias smiled knowingly, and a little sadly.
"You're well on your way to getting your heart
broken."
Brad frowned, and was about to ask Tobias what
he meant when a loud, nasal voice interrupted their quiet
conversation. "You two sharing secrets over there, or
what?"
Brad met Schu's gaze evenly, a faint smile
on his lips. "Maybe." ~Two can play at this game,~
he thought irrationally. ~I can make him jealous too.~
Suddenly the table fell silent. At first, Brad
thought it was because of the tension between him and Schu, but
then he realized that Schu had gone quiet as well... quiet and
kind of pale, and more serious than Brad had ever seen him look.
Slowly, Brad turned around.
"Good evening, Mr. Crawford." The man
behind him was tall, with neat dark hair, handsome features, and
an utterly charming smile. His eyes were dark as well, but held
none of the charisma in his smile; they were unsettlingly blank
and empty.
"Um... Hello?" Brad said in a
confused tone.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is
Stephen Carlisle, and I am the head of student relations at the
school. I'm here to set up a meeting with you... sort of an
interview. Nothing too terrible. It's standard
procedure." The man flashed his disarming smile again.
"If I could ask you to come with me now? You should be back
to your room in... perhaps an hour or so."
The American stood up, a little nervously, and
followed Carlisle out of the cafeteria.
The table remained silent for another moment or
two after Brad's departure. Schu spoke finally, still
looking slightly pale. "They'd better start shopping
for a new roommate for me."
"He's dead, huh," Yohji stated.
"Oh, yes, he is *so* dead."
* * * * *
"Have a seat, Mr. Crawford-- may I call
you Brad?"
Brad nodded, wondering why Carlisle, clearly a
higher-up in the school, was treating him, a new student, with
such respect. Somehow he sensed there was something beneath the
man's polished exterior... something not quite right about
him.
"All right, Brad, I have a confession to
make. I wasn't altogether honest with you when I referred to
this as an interview. Part of it will be questions, but it's
really more of a chance for us to test you. Now, don't
panic, you won't be hooked up to any machines or anything.
As I said, it's standard procedure for new students. We need
to know where you stand as far as your abilities go, so
we'll know how to best aid you in honing your talents."
The American nodded again, eyes narrowing.
Testing. Just like he'd been tested when his father had
dragged him to psychiatrists all around the country, searching
for one who would give his son some kind of drug, some kind of
treatment to make him "normal". None of them had been
able to find a thing "wrong" with him; in fact,
they'd all stated that his mental facilities were sharper
than most. Of course, they weren't trained to notice his
clairvoyancy, but they had sensed an alertness in his mind that
many lacked. This had only angered his father more.
"You're still worried, aren't
you?" Carlisle grinned. "We'll get this over with
quickly then. State your name?"
"Bradley Crawford."
"Age?"
"Sixteen and a half."
"Nationality?"
"American."
Carlisle made a few notes on a sheet of paper
on his desk. "When did you first notice your special
abilities?"
Brad paused for a moment. "I can't
really remember," he said finally. "It was just...
always a part of me, I guess. The earliest memory I have of it
was when my mother started a fire in the kitchen. I was five
years old... we had gone out, and she had left the stove on... I
remember yelling in the car on the way home about the house being
on fire. Of course, they had no clue what I meant, but when they
got home they found the kitchen full of smoke, and the fire
beginning to spread." He smiled sadly. "My father
demanded that I tell him how I had known. Being only five, I
didn't know how to answer, so he assumed I'd done
something to cause it and sent me to bed without dinner for the
next two days." He stopped himself, wondering why he'd
suddenly started running off his mouth about his father to this
total stranger. That was normally a part of him he kept fairly
silent about, and the fact that he'd revealed it to Carlisle
made him even more suspicious of the man.
Carlisle nodded thoughtfully, eyes flashing
with something that could have been triumph as well as it could
have been sympathy. "So your parents were not supportive of
your abilities."
Brad gave a soft, bitter laugh.
"Couldn't have been further from it. My mom wasn't
so bad. She didn't understand it, but at least she
didn't hate me for it. But my father... well, he didn't
like the fact that I had skills and power that he didn't
understand. That maybe I was stronger than he was."
"I see. How did you end up coming to
Rosenkreuz?"
Brad paused, wondering if it was really a good
idea to tell the dean of students that he had been forced into
attending.
"Be honest. You don't have to tell me
what you think I want to hear." Carlisle's eyes
crinkled up at the corners.
Brad nodded. "Truthfully, my father
shipped me here. No warning, no notice, just dragged me out of
bed, drove me to the airport and put me on the plane." He
couldn't believe it had really only been that morning that
he'd arrived at the school. The day had been so long that it
seemed as if weeks had passed between his arrival and the current
moment.
"Your father keeps coming up... tell me
about him."
The question put Brad on the defensive, because
it sounded a lot like something a psychiatrist might say, and he
had had enough of psychiatrists to last him a lifetime. "He
was my father. I don't know what else you want me to
say."
"How did he treat you?"
"I don't see what this has to do with my education
here."
Carlisle paused, meeting Brad's gaze
evenly, and for a moment the young precog was afraid that he was
going to blow up at him. Instead, he nodded calmly. "You
know what... you're right, Brad. I apologize. I'll try
not to pry into your past anymore... I know it can be a sensitive
subject." For a moment his eyes looked a bit faraway; then
he focused on Brad again.
"I... well... thank you," Brad said
uneasily. Again he had the feeling that Carlisle's
politeness wasn't just for the sake of being a good citizen.
The man had "ulterior motive" written all over his
face.
"No problem, Brad. None at all."
Carlisle paused, tapping the end of his pen against his chin.
"How much practice have you had with your talent?"
".... Practice?"
"Well, I mean... have you trained yourself
at all? Do you know how to use it at certain times, or does it
come to you randomly?"
"I've been getting better at
controlling it. The visions used to come to me all of a sudden,
and I'd get disoriented and confused... I think I even
blacked out for a moment the first few times. After a while I
figured out how to... well, not turn it off, but control it, push
it to the back of my mind until I wanted to see it."
"Can you read the future whenever you want
to?"
"No, I can't control when the visions
hit. I can only control their severity, I can't bring one on
myself, or just look into the future to see whatever I'm
looking for."
"Would you like to learn how?"
The question stopped Brad in his tracks. He
hadn't thought it was possible, to be able to see the future
whenever one wanted to. If he could do that... he'd be able
to do just about anything....
"Well? Would you?"
"Well... yes, I suppose so, sir..."
Brad stammered, still a little shocked. Visions of power were
flashing before his eyes. Maybe this place really *would*
be good for him....
"Then you're in the right place,
Brad." Carlisle leaned back in his chair, placing his
fingertips together and looking seriously at the boy.
"Rosenkreuz is a wonderful opportunity for anyone with
special abilities like yours. You should consider your arrival
here a blessing, not a curse. This place can help you accomplish
things beyond your wildest dreams-- provided you cooperate with
us, that is." The man's smile suddenly turned a little
icy. "What do you think of the school so far?" he
asked.
"I'm not sure," Brad answered
honestly. "I haven't seen enough of it to make a
decision yet."
The older man nodded slowly. "You're
thoughtful. You don't rush into things. It's a good
quality. What do you think of your roommate, then? Have you seen
enough of him to make a decision?"
Brad's stomach flipped-- he wasn't
sure why. Had Carlisle seen something in his thoughts? Was he
even a telepath? Brad wasn't sure. "Er...
Schuldig?"
"I believe that's your
roommate's name, yes." Carlisle sounded vaguely amused.
"Well... I don't know, he seems
really nice so far. He's helped me out a lot, explained how
things worked, introduced me to his friends... He's made it
a little easier for me to fit in here."
"I see..." Carlisle paused. "Do
you think he's attractive?"
"What?" Brad stammered.
"Are you attracted to him?" The older
man's voice was calm and even.
"I don't see what this has to do
with--"
"Does it bother you that he's with
Kudou?" His voice was rising, almost taunting. "Do you
think Kudou's the obsessive type? Does he just make you
sick?"
Brad's blood ran cold. His exact thoughts,
at the dinner table.... "I don't see where you're
going with these questions! Frankly, it's none of your
business!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished
they hadn't. Carlisle's eyes had come alive, lit with a
strange... excitement, and the smirk playing around his lips
seemed almost dangerous. Brad sensed that angering him at the
moment probably wouldn't be very good for his own
well-being.
But a moment later, the man's eyes
returned to their normal blank state, and he nodded respectfully.
"I apologize once again, Brad. I got carried away. Perhaps
we should move on to the testing now?"
Brad stared at Carlisle, eyes wide, wishing he
could just get up and run from the room. But instead, he took a
deep breath and spoke softly. "Perhaps we should."
~*end chapter 2*~
C&C desperately needed! I got almost none
for my last fic, it made me sad. I'll.... I'll cry. lol