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