Author: NagiLite
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Ah, this routine...I lay no claim to the people in this fic.
Quick Note: 'blah'=normal thoughts
/blah/=telepathic thoughts
ACT THREE: Sickness
Nagi nearly cost all four members of Schwarz their lives.
And in the process, he ruined any...any chance he had with impressing Brad. Brad now, not Crawford. Nagi sighed and fell back onto his bed, lost in thought.
The mission had been so typical, so boring. Protect Takatori. They were ALWAYS protecting Takatori. Nothing new. It should have been an 'in-and- out' sort of thing. But no, they'd gone to the dull social event, and while the others had been observing patrons and guests, Nagi had been daydreaming. If only he had paid a little more attention...!
He remembered the gunshots, and Schuldich's alarmed mental cry, Farfarello's delighted laughter. A sharp pain in Nagi's shoulder when the bullet whizzed by him and embedded itself in a wall over Mr. Takatori's head.
The shock in Brad's eyes as they met the stumbling boy's, as Nagi fell to the floor, grasping the numb flesh of his arm.
Schuldich ushering Mr. Takatori out, Farfarello attacking a fleeing hitman, and warm hands grabbing Nagi and turning him over.
"N-Nagi?"
The voice had been so insistent, not cold as was usual with their Fearless Leader. Lingering touches on Nagi's arm, tearing away the cloth of his suit and inspecting the wound. He'd barely been grazed, but damn, it had hurt, and it still did. He had been so upset, he'd tried to sit up, intending to telekinetically squeeze the guts out of the bastard who had dared to mess with Nagi Naoe...
But his head spun. He recalled being lifted and staring into coffee brown eyes and then...he'd passed out.
He'd only just woken up. Nagi reached over to feel the bandage that encircled his upper right arm. It would be a bitch to write when he was allowed to return to school.
Of course, the worse part of it all had been the scolding Brad had given him. Normally Nagi wouldn't let it phase him, but he knew he'd been at fault, and had put them all in danger. Brad had been very cold about it, anger rolling off of him in freezing waves.
"What does he know, anyway?" Nagi grumbled. "Thinks just because he's the oldest he can rule every aspect of my life...it's his fault in the first place. If he hadn't been on my mind..."
The Japanese boy scowled and switched on his boom box, settling back to lounge in his feelings of resentment.
***
"C'mon," Schuldich said, leaning into Farfie's room to motion for the lunatic to follow him.
"Where're we going?" Farfarello asked, pocketing two knives and spinning another fancily between his fingers. His single gold eye stared calmly as they left the Schwarz apartment and approached Schuldich's car.
"Anywhere but here," the German said, climbing in and shoving the key into the ignition. His thoughts had been completely thrown off ever since Nagi's 'accident'. Stupid kid.
/But Bradley is the one who has surprised me most of all.../
Farfarello shrugged and ran a pink tongue over the sparkling steel blade he loved so dearly.
And so Schuldich pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway, speeding up as soon as the wheels hit the smooth asphalt. He rolled down his window so the wind screwed with his red hair. It would be a bother to brush out the knots later, but it was worth it.
Farfarello turned on the radio as he always seemed to do when Schuldich needed to clear his head, get away, and inevitably drag the Irishman along with him. The song was in Japanese. Surprise, surprise. They WERE in Japan. Schuldich sang along halfheartedly.
"You know, Farfie, those two are idiots," he said suddenly.
Farfarello didn't argue. Schuldich saw this as agreement, and plowed on. "I mean, it's so obvious that they at least feel SOME shred of affection for each other. Nagi and his 'hey, look at me, I'm Bradley Jr.' And BRADLEY. Carrying on about the boy when he was injured. Of course, YOU didn't hear him, Farf. He was talking in his head. Idiot."
Schuldich snorted derisively. /I'M not going to enlighten them.../
"You want to, though," Farfie chose to point out then.
"Who asked you?" Schuldich grumbled.
"I assumed you were addressing me. And you ALWAYS want to meddle."
The telepath thought about this. /Do not./
"I'm not arguing with you. So don't try it. Why don't you just follow your emotions? YOUR emotions CERTAINLY hurt God."
"That's...pleasant." He tapped the steering wheel impatiently when traffic slowed and came to a near halt. He hated traffic jams. "But you know, you're right. They'll never figure it out on their own. I'd be doing them a favor."
He smirked and reached into his pocket with some difficulty to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. He was no longer pissed. In fact, he couldn't remember the cause of his anger...ah well, it was unimportant. He had another game to play...
***
"Soooo, Bradley."
The annoying nasal voice intruded through Bradley Crawford's concentration like a thorn. He growled in his throat and turned a withering glare on the other man. Schuldich. Always causing trouble. What did he want now?
/Nothing, Dearest Leader. I happen to enjoy your company. Whatcha doin', eh?/
Crawford gritted his teeth together and shrugged, forcing his shoulders to relax. He'd been typing up a report on his laptop, purposely ignoring the prodding from his Inner Child to check on Naoe. Crawford had given up on his Inner Child years ago.
/Ah. Work. You always work, don't you, Bradley?/
'Address me by my surname.'
/Hmm...No. I like 'Bradley' better./
Crawford held his temper in check. He'd been very tense for a while now, though he'd tried to keep it hidden from his team. His Inner Child kept muttering nonsense about loneliness and a chance at happiness with visual images to accompany...but Crawford ignored the words and the visuals. His life was fine.
And his Inner Child tended to become excited over the smallest suggestions.
Suggestions were not something one could bet one's heart on.
Crawford doubled spaced his paragraphs and nodded satisfied. He realized Schuldich was babbling on about something.
/...and Nagi--/
"What about Nagi?" Crawford asked suddenly.
The German smiled silkily. "Oh, nothing..."
***
The next day Nagi was allowed to stay home from school. He was almost happy about that when Schuldich informed him that Farfarello and himself were going out to a movie and Nagi couldn't come.
"But why NOT?" Nagi asked suspiciously.
/You're too injured to go to school, bishounen?/
Nagi shrugged. "So?"
"So you're too injured to leave the apartment. And the theater is not in the apartment. Too bad for you, huh?"
And so Nagi was left home alone. Not completely alone. Brad was home for all of five minutes before he left without an explanation.
Nagi lazed about for a while, and settled for watching television. His arm hurt too much to type. In fact, it hurt a lot more than he figured it should. He'd ask Brad about that when/if he returned home. Nagi flipped the channels until he found a talk show.
'Weird. So THAT'S what happens when your father is also your mother...'
He watched with great interest.
He didn't even notice sleep overtake him, but suddenly Brad was shaking him awake, a startled look on the serious face.
"Nagi? Nagi?"
"Wha--?" he asked groggily, trying to move and then yelping in pain. His whole right side felt on fire.
"You're burning up," Brad said, one cool hand resting on Nagi's forehead. "Damn. I think your wound is infected."
But Nagi was no longer listening. He felt light, as if he were floating. He giggled a little. But when Brad disappeared from his vision, he began to worry. He waited. Then a warm, wet cloth was pressed to his face. It felt good. But he was hot. He began tugging at his shirt.
"Unnn, Braaaley, 'm soooo...so..." He forgot what he was going to say. Brad hovered worriedly above him.
That was when the chills started, racking the small body with uncontrollable spasms. Brad said something roughly, and lifted Nagi, carrying him somewhere. Finally he was laid in a bed. Too bright in the room. He threw an arm over his eyes and burrowed into the covers.
"Inflammation...have to get some sort of medical attention...call Schuldich..."
Nagi's mind started to shut down.
He called out something even he wasn't sure of. No reply. He called again. "Braaaa..." His voice was hoarse; God, he needed water...
"Braaaad," he finally managed to say. The man was instantly at his side, stoic and calm. "Brad." Nagi smiled a little, reaching out and vaguely wandering if this was what he normally would have done. Ugg. He was going too--
He vomited all over the floor. Brad cursed and jumped up, leaving momentarily and returning with a towel which he laid over the mess. Nagi coughed an embarrassed, 'sorry.'
"It's...okay. I'm going to go call Schu's cell phone--"
"NO!"
"Naoe, you're ill, I have to--"
"Brad, d-don't l-l-leave me!" Nagi shivered and ducked his head, close to tears. His head was all scrambled. "P-please..."
He was hot again. Just like that. He kicked the blankets off feverishly, moaning at the pain the movement caused. A startled pair of eyes watched him do this, then slid away to rest on a blank point in the wall.
It was about that time that Nagi's telekinesis decided to go haywire.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Ah, this routine...I lay no claim to the people in this fic.
Quick Note: 'blah'=normal thoughts
/blah/=telepathic thoughts
ACT THREE: Sickness
Nagi nearly cost all four members of Schwarz their lives.
And in the process, he ruined any...any chance he had with impressing Brad. Brad now, not Crawford. Nagi sighed and fell back onto his bed, lost in thought.
The mission had been so typical, so boring. Protect Takatori. They were ALWAYS protecting Takatori. Nothing new. It should have been an 'in-and- out' sort of thing. But no, they'd gone to the dull social event, and while the others had been observing patrons and guests, Nagi had been daydreaming. If only he had paid a little more attention...!
He remembered the gunshots, and Schuldich's alarmed mental cry, Farfarello's delighted laughter. A sharp pain in Nagi's shoulder when the bullet whizzed by him and embedded itself in a wall over Mr. Takatori's head.
The shock in Brad's eyes as they met the stumbling boy's, as Nagi fell to the floor, grasping the numb flesh of his arm.
Schuldich ushering Mr. Takatori out, Farfarello attacking a fleeing hitman, and warm hands grabbing Nagi and turning him over.
"N-Nagi?"
The voice had been so insistent, not cold as was usual with their Fearless Leader. Lingering touches on Nagi's arm, tearing away the cloth of his suit and inspecting the wound. He'd barely been grazed, but damn, it had hurt, and it still did. He had been so upset, he'd tried to sit up, intending to telekinetically squeeze the guts out of the bastard who had dared to mess with Nagi Naoe...
But his head spun. He recalled being lifted and staring into coffee brown eyes and then...he'd passed out.
He'd only just woken up. Nagi reached over to feel the bandage that encircled his upper right arm. It would be a bitch to write when he was allowed to return to school.
Of course, the worse part of it all had been the scolding Brad had given him. Normally Nagi wouldn't let it phase him, but he knew he'd been at fault, and had put them all in danger. Brad had been very cold about it, anger rolling off of him in freezing waves.
"What does he know, anyway?" Nagi grumbled. "Thinks just because he's the oldest he can rule every aspect of my life...it's his fault in the first place. If he hadn't been on my mind..."
The Japanese boy scowled and switched on his boom box, settling back to lounge in his feelings of resentment.
***
"C'mon," Schuldich said, leaning into Farfie's room to motion for the lunatic to follow him.
"Where're we going?" Farfarello asked, pocketing two knives and spinning another fancily between his fingers. His single gold eye stared calmly as they left the Schwarz apartment and approached Schuldich's car.
"Anywhere but here," the German said, climbing in and shoving the key into the ignition. His thoughts had been completely thrown off ever since Nagi's 'accident'. Stupid kid.
/But Bradley is the one who has surprised me most of all.../
Farfarello shrugged and ran a pink tongue over the sparkling steel blade he loved so dearly.
And so Schuldich pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the highway, speeding up as soon as the wheels hit the smooth asphalt. He rolled down his window so the wind screwed with his red hair. It would be a bother to brush out the knots later, but it was worth it.
Farfarello turned on the radio as he always seemed to do when Schuldich needed to clear his head, get away, and inevitably drag the Irishman along with him. The song was in Japanese. Surprise, surprise. They WERE in Japan. Schuldich sang along halfheartedly.
"You know, Farfie, those two are idiots," he said suddenly.
Farfarello didn't argue. Schuldich saw this as agreement, and plowed on. "I mean, it's so obvious that they at least feel SOME shred of affection for each other. Nagi and his 'hey, look at me, I'm Bradley Jr.' And BRADLEY. Carrying on about the boy when he was injured. Of course, YOU didn't hear him, Farf. He was talking in his head. Idiot."
Schuldich snorted derisively. /I'M not going to enlighten them.../
"You want to, though," Farfie chose to point out then.
"Who asked you?" Schuldich grumbled.
"I assumed you were addressing me. And you ALWAYS want to meddle."
The telepath thought about this. /Do not./
"I'm not arguing with you. So don't try it. Why don't you just follow your emotions? YOUR emotions CERTAINLY hurt God."
"That's...pleasant." He tapped the steering wheel impatiently when traffic slowed and came to a near halt. He hated traffic jams. "But you know, you're right. They'll never figure it out on their own. I'd be doing them a favor."
He smirked and reached into his pocket with some difficulty to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. He was no longer pissed. In fact, he couldn't remember the cause of his anger...ah well, it was unimportant. He had another game to play...
***
"Soooo, Bradley."
The annoying nasal voice intruded through Bradley Crawford's concentration like a thorn. He growled in his throat and turned a withering glare on the other man. Schuldich. Always causing trouble. What did he want now?
/Nothing, Dearest Leader. I happen to enjoy your company. Whatcha doin', eh?/
Crawford gritted his teeth together and shrugged, forcing his shoulders to relax. He'd been typing up a report on his laptop, purposely ignoring the prodding from his Inner Child to check on Naoe. Crawford had given up on his Inner Child years ago.
/Ah. Work. You always work, don't you, Bradley?/
'Address me by my surname.'
/Hmm...No. I like 'Bradley' better./
Crawford held his temper in check. He'd been very tense for a while now, though he'd tried to keep it hidden from his team. His Inner Child kept muttering nonsense about loneliness and a chance at happiness with visual images to accompany...but Crawford ignored the words and the visuals. His life was fine.
And his Inner Child tended to become excited over the smallest suggestions.
Suggestions were not something one could bet one's heart on.
Crawford doubled spaced his paragraphs and nodded satisfied. He realized Schuldich was babbling on about something.
/...and Nagi--/
"What about Nagi?" Crawford asked suddenly.
The German smiled silkily. "Oh, nothing..."
***
The next day Nagi was allowed to stay home from school. He was almost happy about that when Schuldich informed him that Farfarello and himself were going out to a movie and Nagi couldn't come.
"But why NOT?" Nagi asked suspiciously.
/You're too injured to go to school, bishounen?/
Nagi shrugged. "So?"
"So you're too injured to leave the apartment. And the theater is not in the apartment. Too bad for you, huh?"
And so Nagi was left home alone. Not completely alone. Brad was home for all of five minutes before he left without an explanation.
Nagi lazed about for a while, and settled for watching television. His arm hurt too much to type. In fact, it hurt a lot more than he figured it should. He'd ask Brad about that when/if he returned home. Nagi flipped the channels until he found a talk show.
'Weird. So THAT'S what happens when your father is also your mother...'
He watched with great interest.
He didn't even notice sleep overtake him, but suddenly Brad was shaking him awake, a startled look on the serious face.
"Nagi? Nagi?"
"Wha--?" he asked groggily, trying to move and then yelping in pain. His whole right side felt on fire.
"You're burning up," Brad said, one cool hand resting on Nagi's forehead. "Damn. I think your wound is infected."
But Nagi was no longer listening. He felt light, as if he were floating. He giggled a little. But when Brad disappeared from his vision, he began to worry. He waited. Then a warm, wet cloth was pressed to his face. It felt good. But he was hot. He began tugging at his shirt.
"Unnn, Braaaley, 'm soooo...so..." He forgot what he was going to say. Brad hovered worriedly above him.
That was when the chills started, racking the small body with uncontrollable spasms. Brad said something roughly, and lifted Nagi, carrying him somewhere. Finally he was laid in a bed. Too bright in the room. He threw an arm over his eyes and burrowed into the covers.
"Inflammation...have to get some sort of medical attention...call Schuldich..."
Nagi's mind started to shut down.
He called out something even he wasn't sure of. No reply. He called again. "Braaaa..." His voice was hoarse; God, he needed water...
"Braaaad," he finally managed to say. The man was instantly at his side, stoic and calm. "Brad." Nagi smiled a little, reaching out and vaguely wandering if this was what he normally would have done. Ugg. He was going too--
He vomited all over the floor. Brad cursed and jumped up, leaving momentarily and returning with a towel which he laid over the mess. Nagi coughed an embarrassed, 'sorry.'
"It's...okay. I'm going to go call Schu's cell phone--"
"NO!"
"Naoe, you're ill, I have to--"
"Brad, d-don't l-l-leave me!" Nagi shivered and ducked his head, close to tears. His head was all scrambled. "P-please..."
He was hot again. Just like that. He kicked the blankets off feverishly, moaning at the pain the movement caused. A startled pair of eyes watched him do this, then slid away to rest on a blank point in the wall.
It was about that time that Nagi's telekinesis decided to go haywire.