Author: NagiLite
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It's a very sad world when a girl can't claim her favorite characters as her own. :(
Notes: Maybe slightly OOC? I'm trying so hard to stay in character...
ACT SIX: Rain
"SHIT!"
Farfarello looked up bemusedly as an irate German stalked into his room and grabbed his arm, hauling him down the hall and out the door. The psychopath didn't bother asking what was wrong; he knew that Schuldich wouldn't reveal anything in his current state of anger.
Soon they were both belted into Schu's BMW and cruising down the highway, reminiscent of many other car rides. Schuldich cursed loudly inside both of their heads until Farfarello was forced to turn on the radio to drown him out. He rocked back and forth with the music, humming bits of songs he was familiar with.
Finally, Schuldich said spitefully, "Bradley really is a bitch, you know?"
Farfarello shrugged carelessly, cradling a knife in his hands, wondering if they would stop at a city park and maybe cut up a few squirrels. God loved squirrels. So Farfie liked to mutilate the small furry creatures, tear them apart...
/After all that time I spent planning and manipulating him...he HAD to go and break the kid's heart. Couldn't stop the cold-heartless-bastard routine, noooooo. Callous jerk./
Schuldich slowed slightly at the sight of a cop, but sped back up again as soon as the officer was past.
/I'd love to see someone get the best of Bradley Crawford, wouldn't you, Farf?/
"Can we go to the park?"
Schu sighed and patted the pale hand resting in the space between them. "If you really want to waste your time in a cheap imitation of nature...maybe I'll feel better after terrorizing a couple of small children."
***
Crawford went to every church near their apartment. There were very few of them, but at last he came to the oldest and dreariest, a cathedral with tall iron doors. He went through a small graveyard to get to the entrance.
He paused before going in, hoping for a vision, but none came.
What good was his precognition if he couldn't even use it when he needed it the most? He straightened his impeccable suit and prepared to face whatever might come like a man.
***
It was so dark. Nagi reached out blindly. His right arm hit something, and he cried out. If he had known where a light switch was, he would have used his telekinesis to provide the necessary luminance...unfortunately, he wasn't even sure if there was electricity in the cathedral.
Finally he grabbed onto what felt like a pew. He followed it until his hand met air instead of wood. Damn.
He stumbled around another five minutes before tripping over his own feet and hitting his head on hard stone. Warm liquid seeped from a burning cut on his head and invaded his eyes. A ragged sob broke from his throat, one he instantly choked back.
No crying. He wouldn't give in so easily.
Abruptly, radiant light blinded him. He gasped and covered his face.
When he could see again, he almost wished he could be back in the darkness. The tall form of Bradley Crawford stared coldly at him, brown eyes anything but warm. As the man approached, Nagi stood and backed away.
"Naoe--Nagi. Nagi," Crawford said, sounding as if a frog was caught in his throat. Nagi nervously wiped blood away from his eyelashes, and the pre- cog was instantaneously at his side, bending to see the shorter male better.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Stupid accident," Nagi said. Well, he meant to say it. The words came out as a hoarse whisper. He could smell Crawford's cologne, a brand he'd been told was 'Old Spice'. American, like Crawford himself. The familiar smell made him tear up again. He frowned and wouldn't make eye contact.
"It's bleeding profusely. There are bandages at the apartment," Crawford said shortly. Was that...PITY on his face, in his manner? Did he purposely touch Nagi so gently? Not likely, Nagi decided. 'I don't need his pity...'
"Actually, I think I'll stay here," said Nagi, forcing a lighthearted tone in his words. "Really, it's not as bad as it seems."
Crawford snorted. "Ridiculous. You're coming home."
At this, Nagi turned away icily, settling into one of the pews. "Don't treat me like a child, Crawford. I can damn well take care of myself."
"I'm your superior. You'd do well to show me respect. If I say you're going with me, you're--"
"Can't you see I'm not ready yet?!" The desperate note in his voice surprised even Nagi. He curled in on himself, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I can't--I can't take much more of this. All I want is to be left alone...Just until I heal."
"The bullet wound?" He sensed rather than saw Crawford's disbelief. "I was sure it was mending--"
"NOT that wound. You--you don't understand! You never do."
He was ashamed to feel wetness that wasn't blood trail down his cheek. He rubbed it away furiously. He wanted to hurt somebody, anybody, make them feel as bad as he did. He wanted to level this stupid church with its stupid clouds and its stupid dreams to the ground, and then spit on the rubble.
"Nagi...Okay. Maybe I don't understand." Calm as ever, but quiet, soft. Not a thing Nagi was used to hearing, and he found himself listening closely. "But...I just want you to know..."
The words trailed off, as if Crawford wasn't sure how to continue. "Know...what?" Nagi prompted.
"That...I am sorry. I know what you heard. Of course, you stumbled upon the dregs of my argument with Schuldich...and you shouldn't have heard any of that."
"And why is that? Didn't want to hurt my virgin ears? I'm not as innocent as you seem to think, CRAWFORD. I'm as much a part of the team as you guys are. You should at least be...partially honest to me."
"Aa. Which is precisely why you shouldn't have heard my lies." Crawford plowed on even as Nagi's mouth fell open. "I'm very, very good at denying things. An art I've perfected over the years. It's hard to lie to Schuldich, as you may have seen, but I believe you've taken my words to heart. And I'm sorry for that."
Nagi swallowed, and nodded. "I--I see...I think."
"Listen, we can chit-chat later. I want to clean that cut."
"Yes."
Nagi stood and followed after Crawford's retreating back, running the conversation through his head. Had that been a...confession? Crawford-- Brad--actually...maybe...liked him? At least a little? Or was he making a mountain out of a molehill as he seemed to do so often?
Upon exiting the cathedral, something cold hit his face. He paused and said, "Look, rain."
The gray sky let loose and droplets fell around and on them, soaking them both. Brad frowned and tried vainly to wipe his glasses.
"I hate precipitation," he said disgustedly. "It's impossible for me to see in it."
Nagi chuckled softly, feeling his burdens lighten, and grabbed the older man's hand, squeezing it softly. He felt Brad try to pull away, but he held fast. So BIG, compared to his own.
"I'll help you," he explained, pulling Brad along after him.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: It's a very sad world when a girl can't claim her favorite characters as her own. :(
Notes: Maybe slightly OOC? I'm trying so hard to stay in character...
ACT SIX: Rain
"SHIT!"
Farfarello looked up bemusedly as an irate German stalked into his room and grabbed his arm, hauling him down the hall and out the door. The psychopath didn't bother asking what was wrong; he knew that Schuldich wouldn't reveal anything in his current state of anger.
Soon they were both belted into Schu's BMW and cruising down the highway, reminiscent of many other car rides. Schuldich cursed loudly inside both of their heads until Farfarello was forced to turn on the radio to drown him out. He rocked back and forth with the music, humming bits of songs he was familiar with.
Finally, Schuldich said spitefully, "Bradley really is a bitch, you know?"
Farfarello shrugged carelessly, cradling a knife in his hands, wondering if they would stop at a city park and maybe cut up a few squirrels. God loved squirrels. So Farfie liked to mutilate the small furry creatures, tear them apart...
/After all that time I spent planning and manipulating him...he HAD to go and break the kid's heart. Couldn't stop the cold-heartless-bastard routine, noooooo. Callous jerk./
Schuldich slowed slightly at the sight of a cop, but sped back up again as soon as the officer was past.
/I'd love to see someone get the best of Bradley Crawford, wouldn't you, Farf?/
"Can we go to the park?"
Schu sighed and patted the pale hand resting in the space between them. "If you really want to waste your time in a cheap imitation of nature...maybe I'll feel better after terrorizing a couple of small children."
***
Crawford went to every church near their apartment. There were very few of them, but at last he came to the oldest and dreariest, a cathedral with tall iron doors. He went through a small graveyard to get to the entrance.
He paused before going in, hoping for a vision, but none came.
What good was his precognition if he couldn't even use it when he needed it the most? He straightened his impeccable suit and prepared to face whatever might come like a man.
***
It was so dark. Nagi reached out blindly. His right arm hit something, and he cried out. If he had known where a light switch was, he would have used his telekinesis to provide the necessary luminance...unfortunately, he wasn't even sure if there was electricity in the cathedral.
Finally he grabbed onto what felt like a pew. He followed it until his hand met air instead of wood. Damn.
He stumbled around another five minutes before tripping over his own feet and hitting his head on hard stone. Warm liquid seeped from a burning cut on his head and invaded his eyes. A ragged sob broke from his throat, one he instantly choked back.
No crying. He wouldn't give in so easily.
Abruptly, radiant light blinded him. He gasped and covered his face.
When he could see again, he almost wished he could be back in the darkness. The tall form of Bradley Crawford stared coldly at him, brown eyes anything but warm. As the man approached, Nagi stood and backed away.
"Naoe--Nagi. Nagi," Crawford said, sounding as if a frog was caught in his throat. Nagi nervously wiped blood away from his eyelashes, and the pre- cog was instantaneously at his side, bending to see the shorter male better.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Stupid accident," Nagi said. Well, he meant to say it. The words came out as a hoarse whisper. He could smell Crawford's cologne, a brand he'd been told was 'Old Spice'. American, like Crawford himself. The familiar smell made him tear up again. He frowned and wouldn't make eye contact.
"It's bleeding profusely. There are bandages at the apartment," Crawford said shortly. Was that...PITY on his face, in his manner? Did he purposely touch Nagi so gently? Not likely, Nagi decided. 'I don't need his pity...'
"Actually, I think I'll stay here," said Nagi, forcing a lighthearted tone in his words. "Really, it's not as bad as it seems."
Crawford snorted. "Ridiculous. You're coming home."
At this, Nagi turned away icily, settling into one of the pews. "Don't treat me like a child, Crawford. I can damn well take care of myself."
"I'm your superior. You'd do well to show me respect. If I say you're going with me, you're--"
"Can't you see I'm not ready yet?!" The desperate note in his voice surprised even Nagi. He curled in on himself, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I can't--I can't take much more of this. All I want is to be left alone...Just until I heal."
"The bullet wound?" He sensed rather than saw Crawford's disbelief. "I was sure it was mending--"
"NOT that wound. You--you don't understand! You never do."
He was ashamed to feel wetness that wasn't blood trail down his cheek. He rubbed it away furiously. He wanted to hurt somebody, anybody, make them feel as bad as he did. He wanted to level this stupid church with its stupid clouds and its stupid dreams to the ground, and then spit on the rubble.
"Nagi...Okay. Maybe I don't understand." Calm as ever, but quiet, soft. Not a thing Nagi was used to hearing, and he found himself listening closely. "But...I just want you to know..."
The words trailed off, as if Crawford wasn't sure how to continue. "Know...what?" Nagi prompted.
"That...I am sorry. I know what you heard. Of course, you stumbled upon the dregs of my argument with Schuldich...and you shouldn't have heard any of that."
"And why is that? Didn't want to hurt my virgin ears? I'm not as innocent as you seem to think, CRAWFORD. I'm as much a part of the team as you guys are. You should at least be...partially honest to me."
"Aa. Which is precisely why you shouldn't have heard my lies." Crawford plowed on even as Nagi's mouth fell open. "I'm very, very good at denying things. An art I've perfected over the years. It's hard to lie to Schuldich, as you may have seen, but I believe you've taken my words to heart. And I'm sorry for that."
Nagi swallowed, and nodded. "I--I see...I think."
"Listen, we can chit-chat later. I want to clean that cut."
"Yes."
Nagi stood and followed after Crawford's retreating back, running the conversation through his head. Had that been a...confession? Crawford-- Brad--actually...maybe...liked him? At least a little? Or was he making a mountain out of a molehill as he seemed to do so often?
Upon exiting the cathedral, something cold hit his face. He paused and said, "Look, rain."
The gray sky let loose and droplets fell around and on them, soaking them both. Brad frowned and tried vainly to wipe his glasses.
"I hate precipitation," he said disgustedly. "It's impossible for me to see in it."
Nagi chuckled softly, feeling his burdens lighten, and grabbed the older man's hand, squeezing it softly. He felt Brad try to pull away, but he held fast. So BIG, compared to his own.
"I'll help you," he explained, pulling Brad along after him.