Author: NagiLite
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Alas, I own them not.
Notes: Thanks to all the people who reviewed. Though it's not much, this is dedicated to you! ^-^
ACT FIVE: Humiliation
/His fever is gone, Bradley,/ Schuldich 'said'. He knew Bradley would pick up the telepathic call.
The symptoms resulting from the infection had lessened over night, and now they were nearly gone. Nagi looked like he might be waking up. Schuldich, impatient, pushed the boy's shoulder roughly.
"Chiiiiiiiibi," he whispered into a faintly pink ear.
Sapphire eyes fluttered open, then crinkled in the bright morning sunlight.
"Un...whuzzit?" Nagi asked groggily, trying to sit up. Schu snorted and shoved him back onto the mattress.
"Stupid. You aren't completely recovered."
"R-recovered?"
Schuldich listened closely to Nagi's thoughts as they flew from one conclusion to another and finally settled on a well-known image. Well. Bradley. He mulled over this a moment, told Nagi to stay put, and went smugly in search of Bradley.
He found the man glued to a computer screen, square fingers dancing over the keys. Mission report. Blah. Maybe it was an apology to Takatori as well, for missing out on a fun-filled evening of plotting and revenge.
/Heeeey./
'What?'
"Guess what I found out?" He didn't wait for an annoyed reply. "He was thinking of you."
"Who?"
"Nagi."
The puzzled look on the American's face was priceless. Schuldich grinned and hugged himself. /When he was unconscious. The person he thought of all that time--was YOU./
And the expression that flickered across his features after THAT little revelation was worth the world.
Schuldich smirked and prepared to fight tooth and nail to prove to Bradley Crawford that he was a man head-over-heels in love with a little Japanese telekinetic.
***
Nagi waited until Schuldich left the room to sit back up. He gawked as the walls began to shift, then realized that must have something to do with his 'recovery'. If he was recovered...that meant he obviously must have been ill. He took a peek at his bullet wound, and found the answer there.
Bacteria must have seeped into the wide cut (covered in gauze now) and caused an infection. Everything seemed to be flowing back to him now.
He thought of darkness and cappuccino-colored eyes and decided he wanted to see Brad.
The hallway to Brad's bedroom/study was dark and silent. Any moment now, he was sure Schuldich's voice would start singing off key, and Farfarello would run to greet Nagi, brimming with some new disclosure. Nagi, I found a kitten this morning, wanna see? Nagi, do you like potatoes? Nagi, help me finger-paint, will you? Why? It creates chaos and disorder, that's why! Nagi...Nagi...
He shook his head. Apparently, he wasn't completely healed as of yet. Supporting himself slightly with his left hand on the wall, Nagi approached the closed door of the room he'd passed so often.
Two voices drifted out, and he paused, his hand above the doorknob. An argument was taking place inside, he decided. He really shouldn't interrupt...
The first voice became louder, and Nagi couldn't help but lean closer to listen.
"You jump to conclusions, Schuldich."
"And you fool yourself. You not only deny love yourself, you deny it to the boy--"
"Naoe doesn't need me any more than I need him, and I am perfectly fine on my own. Do you understand?"
"Understand that you're an asshole? Yeah. Understand why you're torturing him--"
"He's fine."
"Bradley, he's HURTING inside, and he's confused--"
"I won't hear any more of this nonsense. I feel nothing for the boy..."
Nagi's heart stopped. So did the voices.
Then Brad's, calm as ever, stated, "He's going to run away..."
But Nagi didn't hear this. He was already gone, stumbling to the doorway, not even bothering to throw on a coat as he disappeared in the insipid streets.
***
When Nagi had been very young, and had believed in a God and in silly things like love and honor, he had dreamed of living on a cloud. A big, fat, fluffy cumulous cloud, white with gold edges.
So he'd always liked cathedrals, with their elaborate paintings of seraphim and cherubim playing in heaven. On clouds.
He stood outside of an old cathedral now, hands in pockets, fighting tears that he refused to cry. His attire was crumpled, his right arm hurt, and he felt like he was breaking apart from the inside out, but there seemed to be nothing he could do.
Brad, no, Crawford, didn't love him. Didn't even like him. What had he expected? Open arms? He was only a little boy, after all...
NO! He wouldn't let ANYONE discriminate against him because of age, not even himself! How many people had he killed, anyway? How many souls had he damned to hell?
He entered the cathedral quietly, slipping past the heavy iron doors and approaching the sanctuary. Sanctuary. That was what he needed now.
It was deserted except for maybe five or six people, all on their knees and praying to a god that Nagi didn't think existed. Praying for themselves and their loved ones. Praying for forgiveness from sins brought on by Satan.
'I'm the only devil they'll ever see,' he thought sadly.
Then he looked up. And, as always, was taken away by the depictions of endless sunsets and enchanted gardens. Clouds, everywhere. Angels. He reached, as if by doing so, it would bring him closer to his desires and to something--anything, other than this feeling of utter betrayal. The tiny flames in the prayer-candles began to flicker as a telekinetic wind picked up. The worshipers didn't notice at first, didn't notice until the flames grew and grew and wouldn't stop.
They fled.
Nagi still stared at the ceiling. And then as suddenly as the wind had come into being, it left, blowing out each and every flame. Nagi was left in almost total darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust. He walked toward the alter--and his foot hit something. He reached down to pick it up. It was a tiny gold crucifix, perfect and chainless.
He pocketed it.
When he reached the alter, he knelt, bowing his head.
'Dear God or Whoever. Forgive me for my lonely heart. Amen.'
He never had been skilled with prayer.
***
Schuldich glared at Bradley.
"You've done it NOW. Why didn't you tell me he was there?!"
"The vision came too late for me to know. All I saw was..."
Schu waited for the American to continue, but he didn't. When the telepath tried to delve into the thoughts of the other, a strong mental barrier was slammed down.
/Hey.../
Bradley stood up, dusted invisible lint off his clothes, and left.
***
In a vision, Crawford had seen a church. At least, it looked like a church, much fancier than the tiny country ones from his own childhood.
He had seen unmistakable blue eyes bright with trapped tears.
That had been the final straw. He had lost what little self-control he'd had then and had decided to go after Nagi.
Maybe even apologize, a concept entirely new to him.
But first he had to find this church.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Alas, I own them not.
Notes: Thanks to all the people who reviewed. Though it's not much, this is dedicated to you! ^-^
ACT FIVE: Humiliation
/His fever is gone, Bradley,/ Schuldich 'said'. He knew Bradley would pick up the telepathic call.
The symptoms resulting from the infection had lessened over night, and now they were nearly gone. Nagi looked like he might be waking up. Schuldich, impatient, pushed the boy's shoulder roughly.
"Chiiiiiiiibi," he whispered into a faintly pink ear.
Sapphire eyes fluttered open, then crinkled in the bright morning sunlight.
"Un...whuzzit?" Nagi asked groggily, trying to sit up. Schu snorted and shoved him back onto the mattress.
"Stupid. You aren't completely recovered."
"R-recovered?"
Schuldich listened closely to Nagi's thoughts as they flew from one conclusion to another and finally settled on a well-known image. Well. Bradley. He mulled over this a moment, told Nagi to stay put, and went smugly in search of Bradley.
He found the man glued to a computer screen, square fingers dancing over the keys. Mission report. Blah. Maybe it was an apology to Takatori as well, for missing out on a fun-filled evening of plotting and revenge.
/Heeeey./
'What?'
"Guess what I found out?" He didn't wait for an annoyed reply. "He was thinking of you."
"Who?"
"Nagi."
The puzzled look on the American's face was priceless. Schuldich grinned and hugged himself. /When he was unconscious. The person he thought of all that time--was YOU./
And the expression that flickered across his features after THAT little revelation was worth the world.
Schuldich smirked and prepared to fight tooth and nail to prove to Bradley Crawford that he was a man head-over-heels in love with a little Japanese telekinetic.
***
Nagi waited until Schuldich left the room to sit back up. He gawked as the walls began to shift, then realized that must have something to do with his 'recovery'. If he was recovered...that meant he obviously must have been ill. He took a peek at his bullet wound, and found the answer there.
Bacteria must have seeped into the wide cut (covered in gauze now) and caused an infection. Everything seemed to be flowing back to him now.
He thought of darkness and cappuccino-colored eyes and decided he wanted to see Brad.
The hallway to Brad's bedroom/study was dark and silent. Any moment now, he was sure Schuldich's voice would start singing off key, and Farfarello would run to greet Nagi, brimming with some new disclosure. Nagi, I found a kitten this morning, wanna see? Nagi, do you like potatoes? Nagi, help me finger-paint, will you? Why? It creates chaos and disorder, that's why! Nagi...Nagi...
He shook his head. Apparently, he wasn't completely healed as of yet. Supporting himself slightly with his left hand on the wall, Nagi approached the closed door of the room he'd passed so often.
Two voices drifted out, and he paused, his hand above the doorknob. An argument was taking place inside, he decided. He really shouldn't interrupt...
The first voice became louder, and Nagi couldn't help but lean closer to listen.
"You jump to conclusions, Schuldich."
"And you fool yourself. You not only deny love yourself, you deny it to the boy--"
"Naoe doesn't need me any more than I need him, and I am perfectly fine on my own. Do you understand?"
"Understand that you're an asshole? Yeah. Understand why you're torturing him--"
"He's fine."
"Bradley, he's HURTING inside, and he's confused--"
"I won't hear any more of this nonsense. I feel nothing for the boy..."
Nagi's heart stopped. So did the voices.
Then Brad's, calm as ever, stated, "He's going to run away..."
But Nagi didn't hear this. He was already gone, stumbling to the doorway, not even bothering to throw on a coat as he disappeared in the insipid streets.
***
When Nagi had been very young, and had believed in a God and in silly things like love and honor, he had dreamed of living on a cloud. A big, fat, fluffy cumulous cloud, white with gold edges.
So he'd always liked cathedrals, with their elaborate paintings of seraphim and cherubim playing in heaven. On clouds.
He stood outside of an old cathedral now, hands in pockets, fighting tears that he refused to cry. His attire was crumpled, his right arm hurt, and he felt like he was breaking apart from the inside out, but there seemed to be nothing he could do.
Brad, no, Crawford, didn't love him. Didn't even like him. What had he expected? Open arms? He was only a little boy, after all...
NO! He wouldn't let ANYONE discriminate against him because of age, not even himself! How many people had he killed, anyway? How many souls had he damned to hell?
He entered the cathedral quietly, slipping past the heavy iron doors and approaching the sanctuary. Sanctuary. That was what he needed now.
It was deserted except for maybe five or six people, all on their knees and praying to a god that Nagi didn't think existed. Praying for themselves and their loved ones. Praying for forgiveness from sins brought on by Satan.
'I'm the only devil they'll ever see,' he thought sadly.
Then he looked up. And, as always, was taken away by the depictions of endless sunsets and enchanted gardens. Clouds, everywhere. Angels. He reached, as if by doing so, it would bring him closer to his desires and to something--anything, other than this feeling of utter betrayal. The tiny flames in the prayer-candles began to flicker as a telekinetic wind picked up. The worshipers didn't notice at first, didn't notice until the flames grew and grew and wouldn't stop.
They fled.
Nagi still stared at the ceiling. And then as suddenly as the wind had come into being, it left, blowing out each and every flame. Nagi was left in almost total darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust. He walked toward the alter--and his foot hit something. He reached down to pick it up. It was a tiny gold crucifix, perfect and chainless.
He pocketed it.
When he reached the alter, he knelt, bowing his head.
'Dear God or Whoever. Forgive me for my lonely heart. Amen.'
He never had been skilled with prayer.
***
Schuldich glared at Bradley.
"You've done it NOW. Why didn't you tell me he was there?!"
"The vision came too late for me to know. All I saw was..."
Schu waited for the American to continue, but he didn't. When the telepath tried to delve into the thoughts of the other, a strong mental barrier was slammed down.
/Hey.../
Bradley stood up, dusted invisible lint off his clothes, and left.
***
In a vision, Crawford had seen a church. At least, it looked like a church, much fancier than the tiny country ones from his own childhood.
He had seen unmistakable blue eyes bright with trapped tears.
That had been the final straw. He had lost what little self-control he'd had then and had decided to go after Nagi.
Maybe even apologize, a concept entirely new to him.
But first he had to find this church.