I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of its characters. If you do not like Yaoi
then this fic is not for you. C&C welcome at shi_chan@rurounikenshin.cc or
shinigami_chan6@yahoo.com
IN YOUR EYES
Crawford smiled to himself one fine morning. Perfect silence the whole day – all to himself. There he was sitting in the breakfast table sipping coffee, munching toast and reading his imported copy of The New York Times. Nagi had gone camping for a whole two weeks with his school to Mt. Fuji, Farfarello was in his room playing, and Schuldich was asleep. Crawford knew his German teammate well that once he is awake, his silence would go flying away out the window. He decided to take advantage of it as much as possible.
Smiling again, he bit in to his toast and continued reading his newspaper. Just then Schuldich walked in still wearing his pajama bottoms only, showing off endless flawless golden unblemished skin and firm muscles. The absence of his usually perched bandana and glasses on his head caused several locks of silky red strands to frame his face making it obvious to the world that he was gorgeous.
"Where are the aspirins?" He hoarsely asked in his slightly and barely noticeable nasal accent of his. He slammed a kitchen cupboard when he did not find the aspirins. "Where the fuck are they?" He hissed searching another cupboard before slamming it again. "Mein Gott." He doubled back as he launched in to a rather long coughing fit. He cursed in German and exited the kitchen heading for his room where he slammed the door rather hard. After that silence plagued the entire four bedroom apartment.
Crawford blinked. No, he was not expecting that. Shrugging he went back to his newspaper.
*
"Schuldich! This is the fifth time!" Crawford hollered from the German's door banging his fists hard on the wooden entrance and exit. "For crying out loud we've got work to do. Now get up and –"
The door opened and Schuldich stood there in his gear. "I'm up. Stop banging on my door. You're giving me a headache!" He said. It looked as if he was taking a lot of effort to stand on his two legs. He wearily stepped passed the shocked American – because of the 'you're giving me a headache' bit – and headed for the car in the basement parking lot of their apartment.
They drove in silence. Upon reaching the back side of an insurance company, they stopped a few feet away from the back entrance. Essets instructions were simple. Bomb it. Period. Schuldich got out and took out the bomb from the trunk of Crawford's BMW and headed for the basement of the building where he would set the deadly thing. Crawford on the other hand was programming the bomb with his laptop. Twenty minutes later, Schuldich appeared. He slipped in to the car and they drove away, Crawford hitting the 'enter' button in his laptop once they were a good distance away from the building which exploded loudly. Soon nothing of it would be left.
Crawford could not help but steal glances at his companion every now and then, who had his head dipped in a surrendering manner. Scowling he spat out, "What's wrong with you? Got enough of alcohol yet?" Schuldich said nothing and this caused Crawford to wonder even more. "Schuldich? I just asked you a question. Are you going to answer it?
"No." The German said flatly. "Please shut up Crawford."
That was the last straw. Crawford hit the brakes of the car pulling over the side of an empty street before turning to look at Schuldich. "That's it! What is wrong with you?"
Schuldich looked up, and it was taking him way too much effort to do so. "What?" He mumbled slightly.
"Don't 'what' me!" Crawford hissed.
"Listen, I'm not in the mood to play around. Let's just get home so that you can get your silence and I can go to sleep. Can we do that please?" He was going out of his way in being polite. Crawford studied him for a long moment before his lips set in to a thin line and they drove again home.
Once they reached the house, Crawford studied Schuldich silently as the red- head padded to his room tiredly, closing the door lightly behind him. Then there was silence. Normally, Crawford would be glad about this, but for some reason he wanted to hear the annoying voice of the German that seemed to make him smile inwardly – though he'd never admit that out loud.
Bottom line, Crawford was worried.
*
Normally, Crawford would brush away any nagging feeling that plagued him. But four days later after Schuldich's rather odd behavior, he never did come out from his room and Crawford did not check up on him. He heard him come out once and that when he had to use the bathroom where the American heard the guy heave badly and he knew that Schuldich was forcing himself to throw up. Now that was stupid because he had not eaten anything and there would be nothing to vomit out. That evening, Crawford made a firm decision that he'd go and check up on him.
He regretted it.
The moment he stepped in to the room, and saw how the light harshly fell on Schuldich, he felt something in his chest constrict. He knew it was regret; then again he was never really sure of his emotions. Schuldich was on his bed, lying on his side, his back to the rest of the world. The sheets twisted around his waist and he was drenched in sweat. Crawford was about to touch his forehead to check if he was sick when Schuldich's voice rang in his head loud and clear
Don't touch me! Get out! Leave me alone! His voice was angry and furious.
"You've been in here for four days straight! I was just checking up on you!"
Oh so the mighty stick-up-his-ass-hollier-than-thou leader does care. How touching. He mentally smirked in to Crawford's mind. I don't need your sympathy. I don't need anybody's sympathy. For once, be the good guy and give me peace. Now step out of my room before I make you regret you ever set foot in here.
"Oh? What are you going to do?"
Crawford should have never said that. The instant his retort slipped out, crazy and painful thoughts began to fill his head that the pain was unbearable. He grabbed his head and hissed in anger. Schuldich lay still but he was laughing.
I warned you. The thoughts stopped. Get out! Now! It was a loud yell and it hit lots of neurons in Crawford's mind that it hurt.
Giving up, Crawford stepped out of the room, slamming the door in the process. He was just being nice – never thought that the day would come when he would actually be nice to the German. But deep inside worry slowly began to chew away his guts.
That night as Crawford lay on his bed thinking, he wondered. Was he a good leader? Did he think about his teammates before himself? He did not know. He did not know himself, his mind. Just as his eyes were about to close a loud and rather throaty and painful yell rang out through the house. Crawford bolted up right and headed for Schuldich's room where the scream was coming from. He pushed the door open, harsh light slicing the darkness like a sword. He entered and watched as Schuldich twisted and turned in his sleep, trapped in whatever nightmare that was causing him pain.
"Schuldich, wake up!" Crawford said, giving him a light shake. At his touch Schuldich bolted up screaming. His eyes were wide in the darkness as he heaved in heavy breaths. "Schuldich, what's the matter?"
Schuldich buried his face in his hands tears running down. "Leave me alone! Why won't you be nice for once and just leave me the fuck alone?" He begged and screamed. He got up and entered the bathroom, locking it in the process.
Crawford blinked back in surprise. That was when there was no guts left, all consumed by fear and worry.
*
Schuldich turned the cold tap on filling the tub with freezing water. A cold bath, yes that would calm him down. He stripped his sleeping garments completely and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was so thin now, thinner than he thought. He poked his side, trying to see how much resistance he has left. At the contact with his bone, he winced. Not a lot of resistance that was for sure. He sighed and stepped in the freezing water closing his eyes.
Fear chewed on him. He hated his special ability. It drove him insane. All that he knew is that he was alone and he hated it. Loneliness was one thing that he hated. He could not really share his feelings to any of his teammates. Farfarello was insane, Nagi was too young plus the kid hated his guts, and Crawford was just a sad person with absolutely no emotions. He would not be getting any help from them. He wasn't expecting any anyway. All that he knew was that he deserved to die the hard way. Yes, endure all sorts of pain and suffering. He deserved it; after all he was one German bastard.
His body was going numb now. He rubbed his eyes with a now pale fist. He was slowly going pale from the bitter cold. Soon he'd be blue. Schuldich smiled. Freezing to death in a bath tub, now that was funny. Unconsciousness was looming around him. He inhaled sharply as all his bones began to throb in pain. His head swam in all directions and his eyes hurt. His chest hurt. Everything began to hurt.
Last thing he heard was the bathroom door crashing open.
*
Crawford stared at his teammate lying in the bath tub, slightly blue. His mind and heart raced. He pulled the cork that prevented the water from draining allowing the water to go down slowly. He rushed out and headed for the store room pulling out an armful of towels. He picked the thin younger man in to his arm, drenching himself in the process and headed for Schuldich's room plopping him on his bed and began to dry his unconscious body, brushing his hair in the process. The younger man shivered in the bitter cold. Crawford covered him with three comforters. Schuldich was down with a high fever and Crawford dare not think of the worst. If he had not had a vision of seeing Schuldich blue and dead from freezing water, the guy would definitely be dead. He got some antibiotics and slowly fed it to Schuldich, allowing reflex to do the work. The poor unconscious guy winced from the bitter taste. An hour later, the fever was gone. It returned twenty minutes later, causing Schuldich to breathe in and out rapidly. Crawford gave him another round of some medicines. It carried on for two days, sometimes Schuldich would have tears trickling down his eyes or sometimes he'd whisper and call out things in German that Crawford did not understand. Crawford knew one thing thought.
He did not like seeing the German suffer this way.
A miracle happened one evening and Schuldich's fever did not return. He had, if possible, grown thinner. Almost a week with out food and proper rest really did wear out the human body. Crawford wiped him clean with a damp towel, changing his pajama bottoms before carrying him to his own room. He tucked him safely under the covers; orange hair sprawled on the soft white pillow. H made sure that the comforter covered his bare chest before switching the side table lamp and leaving the younger man to get the sleep he deserved.
*
The next morning, Schuldich was still asleep soundly. Crawford smiled, seeing that he had slept through the night, no nightmares, no fever and no shivering. He pulled the navy curtains to Schuldich's window open. He emptied his closet and took everything to the laundry, getting them cleaned. He carefully made sure that the room was spotless. He even got the curtains washed along with the bed sheets that morning. By evening, he had placed everything in their proper places, the room cleaner and more hygienic.
He got himself cleaned and prepared dinner for himself and Farfarello who did not really touched the stir fried veggies and rice. That night, Crawford sat on the couch in his room, a few feet away from the bed. He wanted to be there, just in case Schuldich did wake up and panic.
Smiling, he closed his eyes. Sleep finally consumed him.
*
It was soft. It was sweet. Never had he had this feeling before. It was so warm, the air around him teasing him with love and care. He could inhale the scent of musk and mint, that sweet and mind probing scent. He slowly opened his eyes and it was dark, except for the moon light pouring in to the window. He was sore all over but he never felt better. The bed he was in was so soft and cozy.
Wait a minute! His mind screamed. This is not my room. If this is not my room, then where the hell am I?
He tried sitting up and ended up wincing and crying in immense pain. He saw a figure approach him and he struggled to see who it was.
"How do you feel?"
He knew that voice. That voice that ordered him around ever since he turned twelve. "Crawford?" He asked. "Where – I can't see you." There was a light clicking noise and side table lamp illuminated the room with its glorious light. "Where am I?"
"My room. Yours was not in a condition for a sick person like you to stay in."
Schuldich blinked. Did he just hear right? Was he definitely in Crawford's room.
"Lie still. I'll be right back." Crawford disappeared out of the room. Schuldich looked around him. The place was not very fancy. He was on a rather huge bed; there was a dresser in one corner, a closet and the balcony window. He lay back down and closed his eyes. His bones ached, and he was not really surprised, considering the fact that he had barely any flesh left. Crawford reappeared with a tray in hand. Schuldich did not even want to think what was on it. "Eat." It was not a request it was order.
Schuldich stared at the creamy corn soup in front of him. His guts twisted and he felt sick. No way in hell was he going to take any sort of food in. They looked horrible. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."
"You better eat it. If you're not then I will personally stuff it down your throat." He picked up the spoon and handed it to him. "Now eat!"
Anger bubbled inside him. He figured that he'd throw it up later. He began to eat the damn thing just to satisfy his leader. He tried to eat all of it; he really did, but could only consume a quarter of the rather not-so- huge bowl. His stomach was so used in to not getting anything that the soup was like a stranger.
Crawford seemed to understand why he could not finish the soup. He nodded in acknowledgement, before picking the tray up and heading for the kitchen. Schuldich headed for the bathroom quickly and threw everything out. He brushed his teeth after that, and such an activity drained the energy out of him.
He headed for his room, but Crawford redirected him to his. "You're not entering there until it's been cleaned with disinfectant."
"What?" Schuldich screamed, but it only came out as a hoarse whisper.
Crawford pushed him in to bed. "Rest! You need it. Tomorrow morning, you will have breakfast and take a shower, changing in clean clothes and staying in bed. You will eat lunch and dinner. You will get well and you will put on weight! Look at you, for heaven's sake! You're a walking skeleton with a red wig on! Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Schuldich I know!" Schuldich admitted that if he was surprised, he showed it well. Crawford pulled the covers up and switched the light off. "Sleep well."
He was out of the room.
What was that he saw in the leader's eyes? Was it care? Did he actually care for him? His other side told him so. Because if he did not, he would have left him to die in his cold bath. But he did not. Schuldich was confused, but that did not mean that his desire to die slowly was gone.
He closed his eyes in to deep slumber.
*
Crawford made pancakes, one of his personal favorites. He placed two in a pile, along with syrup and a slice of butter. He poured a glass of orange juice in to a glass, before putting everything in a tray and carrying it to his room. Schuldich was already awake.
"Here." He said, placing the tray in front of the German. He sat on a chair next to the bed. He had no intention of leaving him. He'd watch him consume everything on the tray. "Eat up." He watched as a shaky and thing hand picked up the fork, which fell. This happed for about five times, causing Schuldich to let fly a long list of expletives in German. Shaking his head, Crawford took the fork and sliced the pancake, holding it close to Schuldich's lips.
"I don't want you to feed me like a helpless child." Schuldich angrily, but in a low voice said.
"You are helpless. Now open your mouth and eat!" Schuldich as he was told. Crawford could tell that the sweetness was dancing in his mouth. He sliced up another batch and fed it to him. How innocent and cute he looked when he chewed slowly. Crawford quickly put up his mental barriers. Cute? Did he actually think that Schuldich was cute? Maybe the disinfectant he used to wipe everything in Schuldich's room that early morning was really getting to him.
Once the plate was empty, he held the glass of juice up and allowed Schuldich to drink it. He drank a quarter before wincing and pushing it away.
"Good! Now keep this up and you'll be back to normal. Meanwhile, rest." Crawford left the room to get on with his work.
Schuldich slept through lunch. He woke up in the evening looking tired and hungry. His stomach just had food twice and now it groaning for more. Before eating, Crawford made him go and take a shower. Crawford brought up a tray of lasagna and potato salad. He could smell the sweet scent of raspberry shampoo lingering in the air. He smiled mentally as he once again spoon fed Schuldich, who ate without complaint. In the end, he had finished everything on his plate.
"How do you feel? Are you still sore?" Crawford asked, obviously worried, though he hid it well.
"Yeah. My bones hurt." Ten minutes later, Crawford appeared with a glass of creamy warm milk. Schuldich held it in his hands. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Crawford blinked. "It's normal. You are my teammate and I'm your leader. I do not like seeing anybody in my team mistreating themselves or killing and starving themselves slowly to death when I could have done something to prevent it."
Schuldich look out the window. He closed his eyes. "Can I stay in my room tonight?"
Crawford nodded. "You may."
Schuldich drank his milk. Crawford led him to his room and everything was sparklingly clean. The smell of disinfectant was replaced with a cool scent of pine. Schuldich lay on his bed and smiled at Crawford who simply nodded and closed the door and light.
Crawford headed for his own room. He sat on his bed. He could feel Schuldich there. Around him, still lingering. He lay on his bed, hugging the pillow. Oh yes, Schuldich's scent was there. It was then did he realize something.
He was in love.
*
Two days passed and Schuldich still wasn't recovering. Crawford wondered why when he's been eating nearly everything he gave him. He was typing quietly in his office, finishing the load of paper work. When he was done, he stretched and cracked his neck and knuckles. Stretching he headed to check up on Schuldich. Yes, he had fallen hard for the German man. But he did not let his emotions get in the way. He wanted the younger man to recover for his own sake and also because Crawford loved him. He realized one thing in one night. He wanted the German by his side, he did not want to see him hurt or suffering, he wanted to make him happy.
He made a mistake.
Schuldich was in the bathroom and he heard heavy heaving. Crawford could not believe what was going on. He thought it was an illusion. He headed for his room to change in to his pajamas. He convinced himself that Schuldich was not stupid to make himself sick and kill himself. He placed he wiped his glasses and headed for Schuldich's room. His eyes widened at the sight. Schuldich was standing out in the freezing cold in the balcony, arms around himself. He was shivering so badly that it was likely his fever would return.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, grabbing his wrists and pulling him in, shoving him on the bed. He bolted the balcony.
"What are you doing? I'll do what I please! This is my room!" Schuldich snapped.
"Well I'm not letting you!" Crawford snapped back. "I work hard to keep you alive and in one damn piece and what do you do? You throw up your food, you refuse to absolutely stay still, you stand in the cold and you hardly listen! For crying out loud, do I have to spell it out for you? I want you to get well! I want the old Schuldich back, not this crap that I see in front of me!" Crawford pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. "I knew it! I knew you'd this! Why am I trying so hard to make you well again, I have no idea! Do whatever you want! If you want to die then kill yourself quickly! I do not want to see you suffering in immense pain simply by starving and freezing yourself to death! I do not want to see the person that I love –" Crawford bit his lip.
Schuldich's eyes widened. His lower lip trembled slightly. "Wh – What did you say?"
Crawford closed his eyes and walked out. He closed the door to his room and lay on his bed. He did one thing that he never thought he'd do in a long time.
He cried.
*
A day passed, then another. Then another. Neither Crawford nor Schuldich cared approach each other. Schuldich was afraid. He was filled with fear. He could no longer take it anymore. One cold and rather freezing evening, he went to Crawford's room.
"Crawford?" He asked in a shy and low voice.
"What?" He asked, his back to him on his bed.
"Can I stay with you? It's cold in my room." Crawford made space in the bed. Schuldich took the answer as a yes and headed for the bed, lying down. "Crawford, I'm sorry." Bradley Crawford said nothing. "I'm really sorry, I was just afraid. I – I'm always alone and I hate it. But – but it's different. I – I know that – that –"
"Someone loves you."
Schuldich nodded. "Yes. Someone loves me, and – and I'm happy. But Crawford don't leave me." He closed his eyes, the fear of being left all alone consuming him. "Don't leave me behind. Please don't do that." Tears escaped Schuldich's eyes, and a warm finger brushed it away gently.
"I'd never leave you." Crawford smiled. "I love you too much to do that."
Schuldich allowed himself to be taken it to the warm embrace of the older man. "Thank you Crawford. Thank you very much. I'll try my best to get back to normal."
Crawford smiled and lightly kissed him on his lips. He slowly pushed his tongue in Schuldich's mouth, tasting him. Schuldich kissed back with equal passion. Their kiss lasted for more than five minutes. They pulled back breathing hard. Crawford kissed his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his chin and his lips. He trailed kisses down his neck and began to suck at the soft and fragile skin there, causing Schuldich to moan in pure bliss.
"Sleep well, Schuldich." Crawford kissed his lips once again. "Once your better, I'll show you how much I really love you."
Schuldich nodded. "Good night."
Crawford enveloped him in a tight embrace and then hummed a tune.
Namida ga ato kara afuredashite
Saigo no egao ga nijinde mienai no
Ikanaide ikanaide koko ni ite
Sora e hikari kakenukete-yuku
Konna ni chiisa na watashi dakedo
Anata wo dare yori sei ippai aishita
Arigatou ikutsumo no
Taisetsu na kimochi
Tewata shite kureta yo ne
Sono toki zutto, watashi wa
Kie kaketa hikoukigumo wo mite-ita
Wasurenaide
Hitori ja nai
Hanarete mo te wo tsunaide-iru
Hajimete no koi hajimete shitta
Konna kanashimi ga aru koto
Nanika ga shoumetsu shite mo nanika ga
Futatabi yadotte
Wakare ni kureta hohoemi wa tsuyoku ikiyou to yuu
Anata kara no
Mese-ji
Yakusoku wo shiyou yo
Ano hi no hageshisa wo
Daite
Ashita saku mirai wo
Ikiru
Yakusoku wo shiyou yo
Ano hi no hageshisa wo
Daite
Ashita saku mirai wo
Ikiru
Schuldich smiled as he fell asleep, mesmerized by Crawford's voice and words. In your eyes. He silently said. In your eyes do I finally find love and care.
OWARI
The Japanese above were lyrics borrowed from the Movie sound track of The Vision of Escaflowne – Yubiwa. It's such a soothing and cute song and had such a fine meaning that I thought perhaps it matches Crawford's feelings. If you wish to read the translation of the song, go to www.animelyrics.com. You'll find the English and Kanji translations there.
So what do you think? If hate or like it, do drop me a nice e-mail at shi_chan@rurounikenshin.cc or at shinigami_chan6@yahoo.com
IN YOUR EYES
Crawford smiled to himself one fine morning. Perfect silence the whole day – all to himself. There he was sitting in the breakfast table sipping coffee, munching toast and reading his imported copy of The New York Times. Nagi had gone camping for a whole two weeks with his school to Mt. Fuji, Farfarello was in his room playing, and Schuldich was asleep. Crawford knew his German teammate well that once he is awake, his silence would go flying away out the window. He decided to take advantage of it as much as possible.
Smiling again, he bit in to his toast and continued reading his newspaper. Just then Schuldich walked in still wearing his pajama bottoms only, showing off endless flawless golden unblemished skin and firm muscles. The absence of his usually perched bandana and glasses on his head caused several locks of silky red strands to frame his face making it obvious to the world that he was gorgeous.
"Where are the aspirins?" He hoarsely asked in his slightly and barely noticeable nasal accent of his. He slammed a kitchen cupboard when he did not find the aspirins. "Where the fuck are they?" He hissed searching another cupboard before slamming it again. "Mein Gott." He doubled back as he launched in to a rather long coughing fit. He cursed in German and exited the kitchen heading for his room where he slammed the door rather hard. After that silence plagued the entire four bedroom apartment.
Crawford blinked. No, he was not expecting that. Shrugging he went back to his newspaper.
*
"Schuldich! This is the fifth time!" Crawford hollered from the German's door banging his fists hard on the wooden entrance and exit. "For crying out loud we've got work to do. Now get up and –"
The door opened and Schuldich stood there in his gear. "I'm up. Stop banging on my door. You're giving me a headache!" He said. It looked as if he was taking a lot of effort to stand on his two legs. He wearily stepped passed the shocked American – because of the 'you're giving me a headache' bit – and headed for the car in the basement parking lot of their apartment.
They drove in silence. Upon reaching the back side of an insurance company, they stopped a few feet away from the back entrance. Essets instructions were simple. Bomb it. Period. Schuldich got out and took out the bomb from the trunk of Crawford's BMW and headed for the basement of the building where he would set the deadly thing. Crawford on the other hand was programming the bomb with his laptop. Twenty minutes later, Schuldich appeared. He slipped in to the car and they drove away, Crawford hitting the 'enter' button in his laptop once they were a good distance away from the building which exploded loudly. Soon nothing of it would be left.
Crawford could not help but steal glances at his companion every now and then, who had his head dipped in a surrendering manner. Scowling he spat out, "What's wrong with you? Got enough of alcohol yet?" Schuldich said nothing and this caused Crawford to wonder even more. "Schuldich? I just asked you a question. Are you going to answer it?
"No." The German said flatly. "Please shut up Crawford."
That was the last straw. Crawford hit the brakes of the car pulling over the side of an empty street before turning to look at Schuldich. "That's it! What is wrong with you?"
Schuldich looked up, and it was taking him way too much effort to do so. "What?" He mumbled slightly.
"Don't 'what' me!" Crawford hissed.
"Listen, I'm not in the mood to play around. Let's just get home so that you can get your silence and I can go to sleep. Can we do that please?" He was going out of his way in being polite. Crawford studied him for a long moment before his lips set in to a thin line and they drove again home.
Once they reached the house, Crawford studied Schuldich silently as the red- head padded to his room tiredly, closing the door lightly behind him. Then there was silence. Normally, Crawford would be glad about this, but for some reason he wanted to hear the annoying voice of the German that seemed to make him smile inwardly – though he'd never admit that out loud.
Bottom line, Crawford was worried.
*
Normally, Crawford would brush away any nagging feeling that plagued him. But four days later after Schuldich's rather odd behavior, he never did come out from his room and Crawford did not check up on him. He heard him come out once and that when he had to use the bathroom where the American heard the guy heave badly and he knew that Schuldich was forcing himself to throw up. Now that was stupid because he had not eaten anything and there would be nothing to vomit out. That evening, Crawford made a firm decision that he'd go and check up on him.
He regretted it.
The moment he stepped in to the room, and saw how the light harshly fell on Schuldich, he felt something in his chest constrict. He knew it was regret; then again he was never really sure of his emotions. Schuldich was on his bed, lying on his side, his back to the rest of the world. The sheets twisted around his waist and he was drenched in sweat. Crawford was about to touch his forehead to check if he was sick when Schuldich's voice rang in his head loud and clear
Don't touch me! Get out! Leave me alone! His voice was angry and furious.
"You've been in here for four days straight! I was just checking up on you!"
Oh so the mighty stick-up-his-ass-hollier-than-thou leader does care. How touching. He mentally smirked in to Crawford's mind. I don't need your sympathy. I don't need anybody's sympathy. For once, be the good guy and give me peace. Now step out of my room before I make you regret you ever set foot in here.
"Oh? What are you going to do?"
Crawford should have never said that. The instant his retort slipped out, crazy and painful thoughts began to fill his head that the pain was unbearable. He grabbed his head and hissed in anger. Schuldich lay still but he was laughing.
I warned you. The thoughts stopped. Get out! Now! It was a loud yell and it hit lots of neurons in Crawford's mind that it hurt.
Giving up, Crawford stepped out of the room, slamming the door in the process. He was just being nice – never thought that the day would come when he would actually be nice to the German. But deep inside worry slowly began to chew away his guts.
That night as Crawford lay on his bed thinking, he wondered. Was he a good leader? Did he think about his teammates before himself? He did not know. He did not know himself, his mind. Just as his eyes were about to close a loud and rather throaty and painful yell rang out through the house. Crawford bolted up right and headed for Schuldich's room where the scream was coming from. He pushed the door open, harsh light slicing the darkness like a sword. He entered and watched as Schuldich twisted and turned in his sleep, trapped in whatever nightmare that was causing him pain.
"Schuldich, wake up!" Crawford said, giving him a light shake. At his touch Schuldich bolted up screaming. His eyes were wide in the darkness as he heaved in heavy breaths. "Schuldich, what's the matter?"
Schuldich buried his face in his hands tears running down. "Leave me alone! Why won't you be nice for once and just leave me the fuck alone?" He begged and screamed. He got up and entered the bathroom, locking it in the process.
Crawford blinked back in surprise. That was when there was no guts left, all consumed by fear and worry.
*
Schuldich turned the cold tap on filling the tub with freezing water. A cold bath, yes that would calm him down. He stripped his sleeping garments completely and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was so thin now, thinner than he thought. He poked his side, trying to see how much resistance he has left. At the contact with his bone, he winced. Not a lot of resistance that was for sure. He sighed and stepped in the freezing water closing his eyes.
Fear chewed on him. He hated his special ability. It drove him insane. All that he knew is that he was alone and he hated it. Loneliness was one thing that he hated. He could not really share his feelings to any of his teammates. Farfarello was insane, Nagi was too young plus the kid hated his guts, and Crawford was just a sad person with absolutely no emotions. He would not be getting any help from them. He wasn't expecting any anyway. All that he knew was that he deserved to die the hard way. Yes, endure all sorts of pain and suffering. He deserved it; after all he was one German bastard.
His body was going numb now. He rubbed his eyes with a now pale fist. He was slowly going pale from the bitter cold. Soon he'd be blue. Schuldich smiled. Freezing to death in a bath tub, now that was funny. Unconsciousness was looming around him. He inhaled sharply as all his bones began to throb in pain. His head swam in all directions and his eyes hurt. His chest hurt. Everything began to hurt.
Last thing he heard was the bathroom door crashing open.
*
Crawford stared at his teammate lying in the bath tub, slightly blue. His mind and heart raced. He pulled the cork that prevented the water from draining allowing the water to go down slowly. He rushed out and headed for the store room pulling out an armful of towels. He picked the thin younger man in to his arm, drenching himself in the process and headed for Schuldich's room plopping him on his bed and began to dry his unconscious body, brushing his hair in the process. The younger man shivered in the bitter cold. Crawford covered him with three comforters. Schuldich was down with a high fever and Crawford dare not think of the worst. If he had not had a vision of seeing Schuldich blue and dead from freezing water, the guy would definitely be dead. He got some antibiotics and slowly fed it to Schuldich, allowing reflex to do the work. The poor unconscious guy winced from the bitter taste. An hour later, the fever was gone. It returned twenty minutes later, causing Schuldich to breathe in and out rapidly. Crawford gave him another round of some medicines. It carried on for two days, sometimes Schuldich would have tears trickling down his eyes or sometimes he'd whisper and call out things in German that Crawford did not understand. Crawford knew one thing thought.
He did not like seeing the German suffer this way.
A miracle happened one evening and Schuldich's fever did not return. He had, if possible, grown thinner. Almost a week with out food and proper rest really did wear out the human body. Crawford wiped him clean with a damp towel, changing his pajama bottoms before carrying him to his own room. He tucked him safely under the covers; orange hair sprawled on the soft white pillow. H made sure that the comforter covered his bare chest before switching the side table lamp and leaving the younger man to get the sleep he deserved.
*
The next morning, Schuldich was still asleep soundly. Crawford smiled, seeing that he had slept through the night, no nightmares, no fever and no shivering. He pulled the navy curtains to Schuldich's window open. He emptied his closet and took everything to the laundry, getting them cleaned. He carefully made sure that the room was spotless. He even got the curtains washed along with the bed sheets that morning. By evening, he had placed everything in their proper places, the room cleaner and more hygienic.
He got himself cleaned and prepared dinner for himself and Farfarello who did not really touched the stir fried veggies and rice. That night, Crawford sat on the couch in his room, a few feet away from the bed. He wanted to be there, just in case Schuldich did wake up and panic.
Smiling, he closed his eyes. Sleep finally consumed him.
*
It was soft. It was sweet. Never had he had this feeling before. It was so warm, the air around him teasing him with love and care. He could inhale the scent of musk and mint, that sweet and mind probing scent. He slowly opened his eyes and it was dark, except for the moon light pouring in to the window. He was sore all over but he never felt better. The bed he was in was so soft and cozy.
Wait a minute! His mind screamed. This is not my room. If this is not my room, then where the hell am I?
He tried sitting up and ended up wincing and crying in immense pain. He saw a figure approach him and he struggled to see who it was.
"How do you feel?"
He knew that voice. That voice that ordered him around ever since he turned twelve. "Crawford?" He asked. "Where – I can't see you." There was a light clicking noise and side table lamp illuminated the room with its glorious light. "Where am I?"
"My room. Yours was not in a condition for a sick person like you to stay in."
Schuldich blinked. Did he just hear right? Was he definitely in Crawford's room.
"Lie still. I'll be right back." Crawford disappeared out of the room. Schuldich looked around him. The place was not very fancy. He was on a rather huge bed; there was a dresser in one corner, a closet and the balcony window. He lay back down and closed his eyes. His bones ached, and he was not really surprised, considering the fact that he had barely any flesh left. Crawford reappeared with a tray in hand. Schuldich did not even want to think what was on it. "Eat." It was not a request it was order.
Schuldich stared at the creamy corn soup in front of him. His guts twisted and he felt sick. No way in hell was he going to take any sort of food in. They looked horrible. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."
"You better eat it. If you're not then I will personally stuff it down your throat." He picked up the spoon and handed it to him. "Now eat!"
Anger bubbled inside him. He figured that he'd throw it up later. He began to eat the damn thing just to satisfy his leader. He tried to eat all of it; he really did, but could only consume a quarter of the rather not-so- huge bowl. His stomach was so used in to not getting anything that the soup was like a stranger.
Crawford seemed to understand why he could not finish the soup. He nodded in acknowledgement, before picking the tray up and heading for the kitchen. Schuldich headed for the bathroom quickly and threw everything out. He brushed his teeth after that, and such an activity drained the energy out of him.
He headed for his room, but Crawford redirected him to his. "You're not entering there until it's been cleaned with disinfectant."
"What?" Schuldich screamed, but it only came out as a hoarse whisper.
Crawford pushed him in to bed. "Rest! You need it. Tomorrow morning, you will have breakfast and take a shower, changing in clean clothes and staying in bed. You will eat lunch and dinner. You will get well and you will put on weight! Look at you, for heaven's sake! You're a walking skeleton with a red wig on! Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Schuldich I know!" Schuldich admitted that if he was surprised, he showed it well. Crawford pulled the covers up and switched the light off. "Sleep well."
He was out of the room.
What was that he saw in the leader's eyes? Was it care? Did he actually care for him? His other side told him so. Because if he did not, he would have left him to die in his cold bath. But he did not. Schuldich was confused, but that did not mean that his desire to die slowly was gone.
He closed his eyes in to deep slumber.
*
Crawford made pancakes, one of his personal favorites. He placed two in a pile, along with syrup and a slice of butter. He poured a glass of orange juice in to a glass, before putting everything in a tray and carrying it to his room. Schuldich was already awake.
"Here." He said, placing the tray in front of the German. He sat on a chair next to the bed. He had no intention of leaving him. He'd watch him consume everything on the tray. "Eat up." He watched as a shaky and thing hand picked up the fork, which fell. This happed for about five times, causing Schuldich to let fly a long list of expletives in German. Shaking his head, Crawford took the fork and sliced the pancake, holding it close to Schuldich's lips.
"I don't want you to feed me like a helpless child." Schuldich angrily, but in a low voice said.
"You are helpless. Now open your mouth and eat!" Schuldich as he was told. Crawford could tell that the sweetness was dancing in his mouth. He sliced up another batch and fed it to him. How innocent and cute he looked when he chewed slowly. Crawford quickly put up his mental barriers. Cute? Did he actually think that Schuldich was cute? Maybe the disinfectant he used to wipe everything in Schuldich's room that early morning was really getting to him.
Once the plate was empty, he held the glass of juice up and allowed Schuldich to drink it. He drank a quarter before wincing and pushing it away.
"Good! Now keep this up and you'll be back to normal. Meanwhile, rest." Crawford left the room to get on with his work.
Schuldich slept through lunch. He woke up in the evening looking tired and hungry. His stomach just had food twice and now it groaning for more. Before eating, Crawford made him go and take a shower. Crawford brought up a tray of lasagna and potato salad. He could smell the sweet scent of raspberry shampoo lingering in the air. He smiled mentally as he once again spoon fed Schuldich, who ate without complaint. In the end, he had finished everything on his plate.
"How do you feel? Are you still sore?" Crawford asked, obviously worried, though he hid it well.
"Yeah. My bones hurt." Ten minutes later, Crawford appeared with a glass of creamy warm milk. Schuldich held it in his hands. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Crawford blinked. "It's normal. You are my teammate and I'm your leader. I do not like seeing anybody in my team mistreating themselves or killing and starving themselves slowly to death when I could have done something to prevent it."
Schuldich look out the window. He closed his eyes. "Can I stay in my room tonight?"
Crawford nodded. "You may."
Schuldich drank his milk. Crawford led him to his room and everything was sparklingly clean. The smell of disinfectant was replaced with a cool scent of pine. Schuldich lay on his bed and smiled at Crawford who simply nodded and closed the door and light.
Crawford headed for his own room. He sat on his bed. He could feel Schuldich there. Around him, still lingering. He lay on his bed, hugging the pillow. Oh yes, Schuldich's scent was there. It was then did he realize something.
He was in love.
*
Two days passed and Schuldich still wasn't recovering. Crawford wondered why when he's been eating nearly everything he gave him. He was typing quietly in his office, finishing the load of paper work. When he was done, he stretched and cracked his neck and knuckles. Stretching he headed to check up on Schuldich. Yes, he had fallen hard for the German man. But he did not let his emotions get in the way. He wanted the younger man to recover for his own sake and also because Crawford loved him. He realized one thing in one night. He wanted the German by his side, he did not want to see him hurt or suffering, he wanted to make him happy.
He made a mistake.
Schuldich was in the bathroom and he heard heavy heaving. Crawford could not believe what was going on. He thought it was an illusion. He headed for his room to change in to his pajamas. He convinced himself that Schuldich was not stupid to make himself sick and kill himself. He placed he wiped his glasses and headed for Schuldich's room. His eyes widened at the sight. Schuldich was standing out in the freezing cold in the balcony, arms around himself. He was shivering so badly that it was likely his fever would return.
"What are you doing?" He hissed, grabbing his wrists and pulling him in, shoving him on the bed. He bolted the balcony.
"What are you doing? I'll do what I please! This is my room!" Schuldich snapped.
"Well I'm not letting you!" Crawford snapped back. "I work hard to keep you alive and in one damn piece and what do you do? You throw up your food, you refuse to absolutely stay still, you stand in the cold and you hardly listen! For crying out loud, do I have to spell it out for you? I want you to get well! I want the old Schuldich back, not this crap that I see in front of me!" Crawford pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. "I knew it! I knew you'd this! Why am I trying so hard to make you well again, I have no idea! Do whatever you want! If you want to die then kill yourself quickly! I do not want to see you suffering in immense pain simply by starving and freezing yourself to death! I do not want to see the person that I love –" Crawford bit his lip.
Schuldich's eyes widened. His lower lip trembled slightly. "Wh – What did you say?"
Crawford closed his eyes and walked out. He closed the door to his room and lay on his bed. He did one thing that he never thought he'd do in a long time.
He cried.
*
A day passed, then another. Then another. Neither Crawford nor Schuldich cared approach each other. Schuldich was afraid. He was filled with fear. He could no longer take it anymore. One cold and rather freezing evening, he went to Crawford's room.
"Crawford?" He asked in a shy and low voice.
"What?" He asked, his back to him on his bed.
"Can I stay with you? It's cold in my room." Crawford made space in the bed. Schuldich took the answer as a yes and headed for the bed, lying down. "Crawford, I'm sorry." Bradley Crawford said nothing. "I'm really sorry, I was just afraid. I – I'm always alone and I hate it. But – but it's different. I – I know that – that –"
"Someone loves you."
Schuldich nodded. "Yes. Someone loves me, and – and I'm happy. But Crawford don't leave me." He closed his eyes, the fear of being left all alone consuming him. "Don't leave me behind. Please don't do that." Tears escaped Schuldich's eyes, and a warm finger brushed it away gently.
"I'd never leave you." Crawford smiled. "I love you too much to do that."
Schuldich allowed himself to be taken it to the warm embrace of the older man. "Thank you Crawford. Thank you very much. I'll try my best to get back to normal."
Crawford smiled and lightly kissed him on his lips. He slowly pushed his tongue in Schuldich's mouth, tasting him. Schuldich kissed back with equal passion. Their kiss lasted for more than five minutes. They pulled back breathing hard. Crawford kissed his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his chin and his lips. He trailed kisses down his neck and began to suck at the soft and fragile skin there, causing Schuldich to moan in pure bliss.
"Sleep well, Schuldich." Crawford kissed his lips once again. "Once your better, I'll show you how much I really love you."
Schuldich nodded. "Good night."
Crawford enveloped him in a tight embrace and then hummed a tune.
Namida ga ato kara afuredashite
Saigo no egao ga nijinde mienai no
Ikanaide ikanaide koko ni ite
Sora e hikari kakenukete-yuku
Konna ni chiisa na watashi dakedo
Anata wo dare yori sei ippai aishita
Arigatou ikutsumo no
Taisetsu na kimochi
Tewata shite kureta yo ne
Sono toki zutto, watashi wa
Kie kaketa hikoukigumo wo mite-ita
Wasurenaide
Hitori ja nai
Hanarete mo te wo tsunaide-iru
Hajimete no koi hajimete shitta
Konna kanashimi ga aru koto
Nanika ga shoumetsu shite mo nanika ga
Futatabi yadotte
Wakare ni kureta hohoemi wa tsuyoku ikiyou to yuu
Anata kara no
Mese-ji
Yakusoku wo shiyou yo
Ano hi no hageshisa wo
Daite
Ashita saku mirai wo
Ikiru
Yakusoku wo shiyou yo
Ano hi no hageshisa wo
Daite
Ashita saku mirai wo
Ikiru
Schuldich smiled as he fell asleep, mesmerized by Crawford's voice and words. In your eyes. He silently said. In your eyes do I finally find love and care.
OWARI
The Japanese above were lyrics borrowed from the Movie sound track of The Vision of Escaflowne – Yubiwa. It's such a soothing and cute song and had such a fine meaning that I thought perhaps it matches Crawford's feelings. If you wish to read the translation of the song, go to www.animelyrics.com. You'll find the English and Kanji translations there.
So what do you think? If hate or like it, do drop me a nice e-mail at shi_chan@rurounikenshin.cc or at shinigami_chan6@yahoo.com
