Picket signs, huh? Looks around at pathetic excuse for a
computer/linen/weight/catch-all room. I'll tell you what, if you can
actually find a way to fit you and a picket sign in here, I'll let you
march aaaaaaaaallllllllllllll you want. =)
But anywho's, forgive the length of this chapter. There was so much that
had to get put in here and I didn't want to split it up into more than one
chapter.
*Warning* There is a lemon section ahead. For those of you who care,
you've been warned. This stuff belongs to KT & Prj. Weiß. All other stuff
is mine. Enjoy!
************************************************************************
Three weeks later: Berlin, Germany
Crawford stepped out of the shower and onto the already damp rug on the ground. He grabbed the towel that was hanging on a rack off to the side and ruffled it through the black locks that were now matted to his head. He then took the towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping up to the sink and looking at himself in the mirror.
Well, as much as he could anyway. He didn't have his glasses on, so the entire world at that moment was one massive blur. He leaned on the sink and stared at the cloudy image of himself in the fuzzy mirror. The shape of his face and body and the mess of black above it he was able to make out. His facial features were mere dots on the peach blob.
How his eyes seemed to have gotten worse in the past couple of years. He remembered a time when he really didn't need them to see all that much, just reading. But now, he needed them, period.
"Hmm," he thought to himself, "Isn't it funny how I can see the future, clear as a bell, but can barely see the present two feet in front of my face." Crawford picked his glasses up from the back of the sink, unfolded them, and held the thin frames in his hand. "Poetic justice, perhaps?" he said aloud.
Crawford placed them on his face and everything came back into focus. He now stared at the clear image of himself; his disheveled hair, his lean face, and his broad shoulders and defined upper body. He sighed and then shrugged. "Maybe not."
He finished his shower ritual; shave, brush teeth, comb hair. Crawford then went into his bedroom and searched through his drawers for something to wear. He ended up pulling out something simple: khakis and a semi-dress shirt. Crawford wasn't planning on doing much today. He had finished some work he had earlier and his only plans remaining were to go and see Schuldig in the infirmary.
It had been three weeks or so since he slipped into his coma. Schu had given no physical or mental response to anything since then. A couple of the telepaths that resided at Rosenkreuz were brought in to see if there was anything they could do, but they all said the same thing; there was nothing there. His consciousness was too far away to reach. It was up to him to find his way back.
Crawford walked down to the infirmary that was located in the back most corner of the school. It was a fair sized space; 20 or so beds lined the walls of the sterile, white room. There were cabinets full of different medical supplies and such between some of the beds. The room reminded Crawford of a military hospital out of the 1940's and probably could have passed for one if not for the couple of modern electronic machines in the room as well.
Crawford stopped at the doorway and looked in. For some reason, they had placed Schuldig all the way down at the other side of the room. There was the one nurse down with him fiddling with his IV it looked like.
Crawford started to walk down the aisle to the other side of the room. The nurse finished what she was doing and walked back to the front of the room, passing Crawford. She smiled slightly at him as they passed.
Schuldig lay in the bed, the blanket pulled up to his shoulders and tucked under his arms. There were some medical instruments around him, mostly for nourishment purposes and there was the small heart monitor that he was wired up to. Schu looked pale in color; his hair, of course, drowning out any color that he did have. His skin also felt clammy. All in all, he looked sick. And it was killing Crawford.
Why? Why did it churn his insides whenever he came in to visit him? Why the hell did he visit the younger man so often in the first place? Crawford sat down in the chair that was still there from his last visit. He sat and he stared at Schuldig.
In the short time he had known Schuldig, the telepath grew on him.like a fungus. He never seemed to go away. Crawford didn't mind his company at times, don't get him wrong, but the man was like alcohol, only healthy if taken in moderation. But then he was like alcohol in other ways too.
Crawford shook his head at that thought. Why did he care so much? He had been alone most of his life, he should be used to it by now. But he felt this void in himself; a void that wasn't there before that damned redhead fell into his coma.
"Why do you care, Bradley?" he thought to himself. "You can't care, you can't afford to care."
The intensity of his stare grew with each passing thought. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew he shouldn't let the telepath get to him, but he did. He tried to fight it, but he always failed. Crawford thought that he should just admit it to himself, but this emotion, this feeling he saw as a weakness. He couldn't have any weaknesses. But, yet.
"Oh, Schuldig. Wake up, will you?" he whispered to the unconscious form on the bed in front of him. He wanted him.no he needed him to wake up. Crawford was lonely, there he admitted it.he was lonely. Ugh! This sucked. He felt something positive toward another human being.
Crawford suddenly got mad at himself. He rose up and left. He stormed back to his own office to try to straighten his mind out. He needed to stop this; he needed to remember what he was and where he was going. He didn't deserve to love another person. Love.?
*******************
Blackness.
Silence.
Numbness.
Nothing.
Schuldig was actually quite comfortable where he was, wherever he was. He couldn't tell if he was sitting in his head or floating out in outer space. He couldn't see what was around him; he couldn't feel where he was or what he was on. But he felt comforted, safe. Nothing could hurt him here. He couldn't feel hurt because he felt nothing.
The notion of staying here crossed his thought processes. To stay in this intangible form seemed like such a good idea. Schuldig felt like this was his true form. His physical state was a burden on his mind because it felt pain and stopped his 'mind' from going where it wanted. But, on the other hand, it was his physical body that did feel and bring on the pleasure and that was good. If he could have, he would have smiled.
He could just let himself go now if he wanted. Why didn't he? End it all now? It's not as if he had much to live for. If he were already in a hell at 15, where would he be later in his life? Granted, most of it was his own fault. He made the choice to do the things he did and he didn't think about where it would lead him. It was very typical of Schuldig.
But something was holding him to the physical world. Something was there that didn't allow him to let go. What was it? Revenge, perhaps? Or maybe it 'was' the feel of a physical body. Or maybe.it was the one thing he felt something toward, the only thing he ever felt anything toward.the only thing that felt anything toward him, at least at one time.that damned American.
Oh, lord! What sap! When the hell did he start to feel like this? When the hell did he start to feel?! He never felt anything toward anyone before. It was an occupational hazard. Why did he open up? It was that damned headache. It ruined any personal defenses he had. So all emotions flowed into him and therefore flowed out of him. Shit.
Schu had learned not to feel anything, yet doing so felt so good, to be free in body, mind, and soul. Granted, manipulating other peoples' feelings seemed to give him a release too.an ultimate rush, a transcendent high.but this release was different. There was a fear in there also, a fear that he could be hurt since these were his own emotions and not someone else's. Ugh! What should he do?
Maybe feeling wasn't so bad. Maybe he should give it another try. Maybe it will work out to his advantage. Maybe he might like it. Maybe, just maybe.
*******************
{{Schuldig opened his eyes and looked around}}
Crawford opened his eyes and sat up. Was that a dream or a precognition? He didn't know, but there was one way to find out. He quickly threw some clothes on and speed walked down to the infirmary.
Funny, how he didn't think about why he was going or what he was going to do when he got down there, Crawford just knew that he had to be there. Down through the different corridors and stairwells he hurried toward where Schuldig would be waking up.
There was the opening to the infirmary at the end of the hall. One small door stood between him and the hopefully conscious telepath inside. Crawford reached the door. He opened it and hurried inside.
Just inside the door, to either side, were offices where the one doctor happened to be working. The main room was dark except for one lamp down by Schuldig's bed. Crawford hurried down to the other end of the room. There was Schu, on the bed.unconscious.
Crawford stopped at the foot of the bed. He looked at Schuldig's still unconscious form still lying in the bed. He sighed. The precog stood there for a good 10 minutes or so, but nothing happened. He turned around and leaned on the bed frame. He stared out the opposite window, not thinking of anything really, just looking.
"Maybe it was just a dream," he said aloud. He let out a chuckle to himself and walked away. And then suddenly.
"Crawford?"
The hoarse voice rang in his ears and made his insides jump as high as they could. Crawford whipped around to see Schuldig with his head turned and was staring at him.
Crawford forced himself to relax and stood up as straight as he could. "Well, it's nice to see that you are awake."
"Where am I?"
"You're in the infirmary."
Schuldig blinked and attempted to sit up. "The infirmary? How long have I been out?"
Crawford rushed over to help Schu into an upright position. "About three weeks or so."
"Three weeks!?"
"Yes, you've been out for quite some time."
Schuldig was finally able to sit with the help from Crawford. He'd been in a mental state for so long, that he almost forgot what physical contact felt like. Schu never quite appreciated the feel before.
"I should probably go tell the doctor that you're awake."
"Could you also get me some water?" Schu asked Crawford as he started to walk away.
"Yeah, sure."
Schuldig watched the clairvoyant man walk through the dark toward the front. Yes, that just might be what held him here.
Jeez, three weeks! How time does fly in a place with no sense of time. But then, he should have expected as much. Anytime he had taken his mind out of commission, the outside world would always speed by. Humph, no wonder he was hungry.and thirsty. Where was that water?
The doctor appeared out of the shadows, stethoscope already on his ears. He looked Schuldig over, checking vitals, looking at the few monitors there, and a couple of other little things. Crawford finally appeared with a cup of water, as the doctor was busy unhooking a few of the tubes and wires.
"Danke," Schu said quietly as he accepted the water. It was gone in one quick gulp.
"Well," the doctor piped up, "You seem to be fine. I see no physical affects from your coma. I would like to keep you in here for observation though, just through tomorrow. Right now, just get some rest." He walked away.
"Danke schön, Herr Docktor," Crawford said after the man.
"As if I haven't rested enough already," Schuldig blurted out as he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. "So Bradley, what have you been up to?" he smiled. "Haven't been checking up on me every day, have you?"
Crawford blinked at him. "Work as usual," he said as he sat on the bed next to Schuldig's bed, "but thinking mostly."
Schuldig perked an eyebrow. "Thinking? About what?"
"Nothing in particular," Crawford replied as he stared off into nowhere. "Just.this whole thing.those three.what they did, what they're going to do. In their eyes, you are one of the best. Yet, what they did was reckless; putting one of their own, one of their best in danger. It was an idiotic tactic, if you could call it a tactic. Someone that stupid doesn't deserve to be a leader or to decide who should be a leader." He paused.
Schuldig looked at him. "Crawford, is that 'concern' I hear coming from your mouth?"
Crawford looked at Schu. "But now is not the time and this is not the place to discuss this. I'm sorry I brought it up. You get some rest and I will check on you tomorrow." The precog rose up and walked out of the room.
Schuldig watched as he disappeared into the shadows. "Like I said before, 'as if I haven't rested enough already'. Besides, how do you turn off this light?"
*************
Rain poured outside, the precipitation cooling off everything from the sweltering June day. A wet breeze came through the open windows of Crawford's bedroom cooling the space off. Unfortunately, it provided minimal relief for the warm office where he was seated. The only vent for the cool air was the doorway between the two rooms.
He didn't have any work to do, no papers to fill out, no books to read, no schematics to look over, nothing. That was it. Everything was done. There was nothing left to learn, for him, nothing left to be taught.
Two days.
In two days he would leave this god-forsaken place and never return to it again. In two days, he would be doing Este's dirty work elsewhere. In two days he would get his orders from the dean and in two days, he was a full Este agent.
How depressing.
Well, at least he would have some freedom. He wouldn't be cooped up in some stuffy building from now on. He would have cities to wreak havoc upon instead of just a couple of offices.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened and a Schuldig stuck his head in.
"Guten Tag."
"Ah, I see they let you out of that infirmary. Not too many tests, I presume. How do you feel?"
Schuldig brought his entire self into the room and shut the door behind him. "I'm fine. No lasting effects, but then there never are."
"This isn't the first time you've been reduced to a coma-like state?"
"Nein, and it probably won't be the last." Schu moseyed on over to the couch and flopped down. It was probably the best seat in the office since it was situated next to the open doorway. He relaxed immensely from the cool breeze and pounding rain coming from the open windows in the adjacent room.
Crawford stared at Schu. It felt like only yesterday, yet forever that the telepath was in his office, flopped out over his furniture. Suddenly, it seemed as if nothing had changed; like that coma never happened. But it did, and it had affected Crawford as well as Schuldig.
"What are you thinking about?" Schuldig suddenly asked. It was a question that Schu felt odd asking, since he'd have no reason to. But then, as he'd come to learn on many occasions, Crawford was just special like that.
Crawford snapped back into reality. He thought about what he was thinking. Several thoughts were running through his head at that moment. He rose out of his chair and walked around to the front of the desk and leaned on it, facing Schu. Crawford felt he couldn't sit when he said this.
"I started to tell you this in the infirmary. These past three weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've come to this conclusion: I am not totally opposed to this 'Este-taking-over-the-world' idea. In fact, I've come to feel that this world could use a drastic change such as that. But, I don't like how they are going about it. I despise their methods of doing so. I hate the way they are manipulating these people and I hate the way they can't do their own dirty work. I have come to feel that the only way to stop Este is to outdo them; beat them to their goal. And I will bring them down if it means ruling the world myself."
Schuldig sat there, stunned.
"Now I know I say that now, but I won't be able to do it alone, even I will admit to that. I believe your help could be used. A team of a strong precog and a strong telepath."
Okay, it's not as if 'all' of this was necessarily sudden, but that's a lot of information for Crawford to just spill out like that. "May I ask," Schuldig questioned, "What brought this whole thought process on?"
Crawford tightened his jaw. What should he say; should he tell Schu anything? . "Alright, listen carefully, because I will never say or admit to this again."
Crawford turned so his back was now to the desk and Schu was now looking at his distinct profile. If Crawford were to face Schuldig, he didn't think he would be able to get this out. He took a deep breath.
"As far as Este goes, I'm particularly upset about the fact that it was you they attacked. I was. 'concerned' that you wouldn't wake up from that sleep of yours. These past three weeks had seemed rather empty. Granted, I've been alone for most of my life so it's not that I necessarily need you, but it was odd not having you here. It was like a sudden void. I mean, I was actually.shaken by you being in that coma. It. 'scared' me cause I didn't see anything in the future involving you. I don't know why.why I didn't see anything or why it scarred me. And I think I hate the feeling more than I hate Este."
Schuldig was speechless. Crawford never had poured his heart out like this. Hell, he didn't even know the man had a heart to pour out. And 'he' scared him! Well, it's not like it was his fault. Granted, Schu himself kind of forced the coma upon himself, but it was mostly them.
Schu starred out into space trying to absorb what he had just heard coming from Crawford's mouth.
Crawford inhaled. Wow, that was a lot of emotion for one conversation. Too much if you ask him. He looked over at Schuldig who was now oblivious to the world.
Thunder started to rumble outside and the wind seemed to pick-up slightly because it was now just catching pieces of Schuldig's hair as it traveled through the doorway.
Crawford blinked. All of a sudden, the redhead looked extremely attractive sitting on the couch looking completely expressionless.
He pushed himself off of the desk and moved over to the couch where he seated himself next to Schuldig. Schu noticed the sudden movement of the couch and realized Crawford was now sitting next to him. He turned his head and looked at the older precog, who in turn, was looking intensely at him.
The two of them stared at each other. Neither one knowing how long, neither one caring. Then Crawford reached his hand up and placed it under Schuldig's chin, pulling his face toward his own in the process. He placed a small kiss on Schu's left cheek and another one closer to his mouth.
Schuldig closed his eyes tightly; savoring every kiss he was receiving from Crawford. After that argument they had a while back involving their age difference, he thought Crawford would never touch him again. But then, Crawford didn't seem to exactly be in his right mind at the moment. Oh Gott, Schuldig wanted this so bad he could feel it, but would Bradley regret it later? He didn't want that.
Schuldig reached his hands up and, placing them on either side of Crawford's neck, he gently pushed him away. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
Crawford planted a firm kiss on Schuldig's lips and then backed his head away again slightly. He gave Schu the look he tends to give someone right before he's about to kick their ass. He quietly said, "I do. I want to show you what you'll miss if you ever do that to me again."
Schuldig stared at him. And then he smiled; not because he was amused by what Crawford said or the fact that even a non-precog could see where this was going, but just a smile. He relaxed, he opened himself up, he let himself be consumed by the older man.
Crawford kissed him again, feeling Schuldig's silly little smile against his lips. The telepath kissed him back. He felt Schu's arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Schuldig's warmth felt very inviting, his smell enticing, his taste, delicious. Crawford slipped an arm around Schu's waist and ran his other hand into the mass of red hair. Each kiss, each slip of their tongues came faster and more furious.
Then, Crawford stopped. Schuldig looked at him wondering what was wrong. "Bed." That's all he said, and Schuldig was up and heading toward the bedroom.
He didn't bother turning the light on. The lightning from outside lit up the room enough to find the bed, that's all he needed. Schu turned around to see Crawford coming through the doorway and closing the door behind him.
Crawford grabbed hold of Schuldig and they continued from where they left off in the previous room. He slowly moved the telepath back toward the bed. Schu's knees hit the mattress, they bent and he went down. Crawford removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand before placing a knee between Schuldig's legs and climbing onto the bed over him.
He leaned in and nibbled at the German's neck. His hand slowly caressed Schuldig's waist, pulling his shirt up, exposing soft flesh. Schuldig leaned his head back exposing more of his neck for his partner, all the while fiddling with the zipper on Crawford's pants.
Crawford put himself upright and helped with the button before leaning over and undoing Schuldig's as well. As he was doing so, Schu pulled the precog's pants down exposing his erect groin. Schuldig's own pants were soon off and also in the pile of clothing forming on the floor.
Schuldig backed himself up further into the bed. Crawford removed his shirt and tossed it before climbing up and nestling himself between Schuldig's legs. He moved in to kiss Schuldig. Schu placed his hands on the sides of Crawford's face and guided him to his own lips. They locked lips; their tongues searching, tasting each other. Small moans escaped from the depths of their throats.
Crawford ran his hand down the length of the German's body; softly caressing the front of his shoulder, running down his side, just brushing a thumb over a tender nipple, feeling the muscle definition beneath his palm, down to a thin hip and tight butt.
Schuldig shivered slightly at the American's touch. He opened his eyes slightly, just in time for a flash of lightning to illuminate the room and Crawford's face; eyes closed, a look of pleasure and passion upon his features, a look never seen. Schu closed his eyes again. He tightened his thigh muscles, squeezing Crawford's hips.
"I want you, Bradley," he whispered.
Crawford backed off of Schuldig slightly. He grabbed the redhead's legs and pulled him down the bed slightly. He placed his hands underneath Schu's thighs and pushed them up toward his head. Schuldig wrapped his legs up around Crawford's back as he moved back into position.
Schu could feel the tip of Crawford's erection caressing his skin, teasing him. The torture was horrendous, the anticipation, killing him.
Crawford pinned his partner's wrists to the bed, holding them tight
"Oh, Bradley, please."
Crawford nibbled at Schuldig's neck. "More?" he mumbled into his skin. All he got was a groan in response. He couldn't take it anymore either. After searching out the opening to Schuldig, Crawford slowly inserted himself in.
Schuldig bit his lip. He almost forgot what this felt like. He almost forgot how much he liked it. But there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the fact that he was with someone he knew, someone 'he' wanted, someone who wanted 'him' and not just his sex.
It's amazing how emotions can heighten the sense of pleasure. Schuldig would have never guessed.
Crawford quickened his pace. He drove himself in as far as he could. As soon as he hit Schuldig's prostate, Schuldig let out a yell, "Ah! Brad!"
Crawford let go of Schuldig's one hand, reached down and started to stroke him. Schuldig's breathing got faster; moans escaped his mouth. The pleasure of it all was building up in Crawford. He felt like he was going to explode.
Schuldig took his free hand and brought it down to grasp Crawford's moving one. He moved the older man's hand faster along the shaft. It just wasn't enough for him. Schu wanted Brad to be faster, harder.
Crawford felt a hand grab his and move it more. He tried to match his own rhythms. He looked down at his partner. He could just make out the moaning figure below him. Then, there was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. In that brief moment, Crawford could see that Schuldig's head was on it's side and he thought he could make out extreme delectation on the red-head's face. Bradley smiled, not that he wasn't already. This all was going to be over too soon.
He could feel it coming, both of them could. Brad let out a groan and released himself. Schuldig felt the warmth within him and he himself ejaculated upon the both of them. For one moment, Schuldig felt as if it was just the two of them. There were no voices, no thoughts. It was a moment of paradise where their rhythms were precise, their timing, impeccable.
Bradley collapsed onto Schuldig, who wrapped his arms around the American's neck. The two of them lay there panting and trying to catch their breath. Lightning still lit the room up, but the storm was farther away since it was only low rumbles of thunder now. Crawford listened to the sounds of the passing storm outside as well as Schu's heavy breathing.
Eventually, Crawford rolled off Schuldig and laid on his back staring at the images around him. He felt the body next to him move from its spot to his chest. Long strands of hair were starting to stick all over his perspiring skin. He brought a hand up and moved the pieces away and then letting his hand rest in the main mess of it.
Schuldig felt a whole bunch of hair clinging to his neck. It was rather uncomfortable. He sat up from where he had just placed his head and fiddled with his hair. Schu pulled all of his hair into a twist behind him; anything to get those pesky strands that didn't want to detach themselves from his sticky skin.
He suddenly felt a hand caress his back. Crawford ran his finger from the base of Schu's spin up as high as it would go without having to remove it from the bed.
Schuldig turned his head around to look at Crawford. "Was?"
Crawford looked at the image of his partner. "Why do you effect me like this?"
Schu let go of his hair, which untwisted and dropped back down to his back. He leaned over and planted a flirtatious kiss on the precog's lips. "Why do you let me effect you like this?"
The telepath gave Crawford one last kiss before lying back down, this time on his shoulder. The two of them drifted off into slumber as the last of the storm planted its fury on the world outside.
*****************
The heat from the sun coming through the window awoke Schuldig that morning. He awoke to find that he was no longer on Crawford but buried in a big fluffy pillow. He whipped himself around, thinking that Crawford had left, but he was still there, lying on his back on the other side of the bed.
Crawford looked at Schu when he turned quickly. "Problem?" he questioned.
"Nein," Schu said as he relaxed and laid back down. The two of them lay there. The silence in the room bothered Schuldig after awhile.
"What're you thinking about?" he questioned after awhile hoping the voice, even if it was his own, would help.
Silence.
Okay, this wasn't helping. Then he chuckled inwardly. He thought about how many people he's talked to, though most of them women, always seemed to like the strong, silent type. He came to kind of prefer that type also, but Crawford was just god damned ridiculous! He sighed.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
Whoa! Run that by me again. "What did you just say?" Schuldig turned his head to look at Crawford.
"I said that tomorrow I leave Rosenkreuz."
Schuldig sat up and stared at the older man. "Tomorrow? You leave tomorrow and you are just telling me now?"
"Yes."
He didn't know why, but Schuldig felt as if someone just ripped a vital organ out of him. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew Crawford was going to be leaving, and he knew it was soon, but a little more warning would have been nice.
He calmed himself. Schu took in a deep breath and exhaled.
"I would have told you sooner but you were in a coma when I was told. But anyway, tomorrow I get the final orders for wherever I'm going and I leave."
Silence, again.
Lovely. Their acquaintanceship started from Crawford wanting an ally in here and now that's what Schuldig has gotten used to and now he leaves and he now has nobody and it makes him so mad, and.and.
He calmed himself. Schu knew it was coming. He shouldn't be so angry.
He sighed, again.
"Well, do you need any help packing?" He looked over at Crawford.
"No, I can handle it." The man got up and walked to the bathroom. As the door shut, Schuldig slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. It already started to feel lonely in here.
*****************
Schuldig watched Crawford as he brought the last suitcase out of the bedroom and set it on the ground by the door. The precog was clad in his best business suit; shirt, vest, jacket, pants, and freshly shined shoes. Schu thought he just looked extremely hot and stuffy. But it was Crawford. He never questioned what he wanted to wear.
A man entered the room and took the last suitcase, leaving Crawford standing by the doorway and Schuldig hunched over on the couch. Crawford looked at the German. He didn't know what to say, or if he really wanted to say anything.
Schu looked up at him. "This sucks, you know."
Crawford shrugged. "Just learn to keep your big mouth shut and you'll do fine in here."
"So, tell me my clairvoyant associate, do you see "us" in the future?"
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Crawford said flatly.
Schuldig raised an eyebrow at the comment.
Crawford walked over to him and placed a hand under Schu's chin. "There's a saying where I come from that goes, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'"
"Humph. It's also said that absence makes you forget things."
"I have to go." Crawford dropped his hand and turned to leave. But, just as he was about to walk out of the room, he turned and in pure, New England accented English, he said, "You take care of yourself Schuldig. See ya 'round." And he left.
Schuldig blinked. He sat back in the couch and let the emptiness encompass him.
******************
Fräulein Menschenfeind handed Crawford a folder. "There are your orders. It's actually quite a lot for a new Este agent. The car outside will take you to the airport and you will proceed from there." The woman stood up from her desk. She looked Crawford up and down and looked at him as if she was pouting. "Good luck in your mission and welcome aboard, Oracle." She extended her hand and Crawford shook it.
"Danke Fräulein. I will do my best." He let go of her hand, turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hall, walked down the steps, and walked out the front door. There was a car waiting outside, the driver holding the door open for him. He got into the car and it left. Through the gates of the ominous Rosenkreuz and out to the streets of Berlin, Germany.
Crawford sat thinking about the time in the future when he could take this place down, all of Este. He sat thinking as the car drove him to the next chapter in his life.
************************************************************************
Three weeks later: Berlin, Germany
Crawford stepped out of the shower and onto the already damp rug on the ground. He grabbed the towel that was hanging on a rack off to the side and ruffled it through the black locks that were now matted to his head. He then took the towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping up to the sink and looking at himself in the mirror.
Well, as much as he could anyway. He didn't have his glasses on, so the entire world at that moment was one massive blur. He leaned on the sink and stared at the cloudy image of himself in the fuzzy mirror. The shape of his face and body and the mess of black above it he was able to make out. His facial features were mere dots on the peach blob.
How his eyes seemed to have gotten worse in the past couple of years. He remembered a time when he really didn't need them to see all that much, just reading. But now, he needed them, period.
"Hmm," he thought to himself, "Isn't it funny how I can see the future, clear as a bell, but can barely see the present two feet in front of my face." Crawford picked his glasses up from the back of the sink, unfolded them, and held the thin frames in his hand. "Poetic justice, perhaps?" he said aloud.
Crawford placed them on his face and everything came back into focus. He now stared at the clear image of himself; his disheveled hair, his lean face, and his broad shoulders and defined upper body. He sighed and then shrugged. "Maybe not."
He finished his shower ritual; shave, brush teeth, comb hair. Crawford then went into his bedroom and searched through his drawers for something to wear. He ended up pulling out something simple: khakis and a semi-dress shirt. Crawford wasn't planning on doing much today. He had finished some work he had earlier and his only plans remaining were to go and see Schuldig in the infirmary.
It had been three weeks or so since he slipped into his coma. Schu had given no physical or mental response to anything since then. A couple of the telepaths that resided at Rosenkreuz were brought in to see if there was anything they could do, but they all said the same thing; there was nothing there. His consciousness was too far away to reach. It was up to him to find his way back.
Crawford walked down to the infirmary that was located in the back most corner of the school. It was a fair sized space; 20 or so beds lined the walls of the sterile, white room. There were cabinets full of different medical supplies and such between some of the beds. The room reminded Crawford of a military hospital out of the 1940's and probably could have passed for one if not for the couple of modern electronic machines in the room as well.
Crawford stopped at the doorway and looked in. For some reason, they had placed Schuldig all the way down at the other side of the room. There was the one nurse down with him fiddling with his IV it looked like.
Crawford started to walk down the aisle to the other side of the room. The nurse finished what she was doing and walked back to the front of the room, passing Crawford. She smiled slightly at him as they passed.
Schuldig lay in the bed, the blanket pulled up to his shoulders and tucked under his arms. There were some medical instruments around him, mostly for nourishment purposes and there was the small heart monitor that he was wired up to. Schu looked pale in color; his hair, of course, drowning out any color that he did have. His skin also felt clammy. All in all, he looked sick. And it was killing Crawford.
Why? Why did it churn his insides whenever he came in to visit him? Why the hell did he visit the younger man so often in the first place? Crawford sat down in the chair that was still there from his last visit. He sat and he stared at Schuldig.
In the short time he had known Schuldig, the telepath grew on him.like a fungus. He never seemed to go away. Crawford didn't mind his company at times, don't get him wrong, but the man was like alcohol, only healthy if taken in moderation. But then he was like alcohol in other ways too.
Crawford shook his head at that thought. Why did he care so much? He had been alone most of his life, he should be used to it by now. But he felt this void in himself; a void that wasn't there before that damned redhead fell into his coma.
"Why do you care, Bradley?" he thought to himself. "You can't care, you can't afford to care."
The intensity of his stare grew with each passing thought. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew he shouldn't let the telepath get to him, but he did. He tried to fight it, but he always failed. Crawford thought that he should just admit it to himself, but this emotion, this feeling he saw as a weakness. He couldn't have any weaknesses. But, yet.
"Oh, Schuldig. Wake up, will you?" he whispered to the unconscious form on the bed in front of him. He wanted him.no he needed him to wake up. Crawford was lonely, there he admitted it.he was lonely. Ugh! This sucked. He felt something positive toward another human being.
Crawford suddenly got mad at himself. He rose up and left. He stormed back to his own office to try to straighten his mind out. He needed to stop this; he needed to remember what he was and where he was going. He didn't deserve to love another person. Love.?
*******************
Blackness.
Silence.
Numbness.
Nothing.
Schuldig was actually quite comfortable where he was, wherever he was. He couldn't tell if he was sitting in his head or floating out in outer space. He couldn't see what was around him; he couldn't feel where he was or what he was on. But he felt comforted, safe. Nothing could hurt him here. He couldn't feel hurt because he felt nothing.
The notion of staying here crossed his thought processes. To stay in this intangible form seemed like such a good idea. Schuldig felt like this was his true form. His physical state was a burden on his mind because it felt pain and stopped his 'mind' from going where it wanted. But, on the other hand, it was his physical body that did feel and bring on the pleasure and that was good. If he could have, he would have smiled.
He could just let himself go now if he wanted. Why didn't he? End it all now? It's not as if he had much to live for. If he were already in a hell at 15, where would he be later in his life? Granted, most of it was his own fault. He made the choice to do the things he did and he didn't think about where it would lead him. It was very typical of Schuldig.
But something was holding him to the physical world. Something was there that didn't allow him to let go. What was it? Revenge, perhaps? Or maybe it 'was' the feel of a physical body. Or maybe.it was the one thing he felt something toward, the only thing he ever felt anything toward.the only thing that felt anything toward him, at least at one time.that damned American.
Oh, lord! What sap! When the hell did he start to feel like this? When the hell did he start to feel?! He never felt anything toward anyone before. It was an occupational hazard. Why did he open up? It was that damned headache. It ruined any personal defenses he had. So all emotions flowed into him and therefore flowed out of him. Shit.
Schu had learned not to feel anything, yet doing so felt so good, to be free in body, mind, and soul. Granted, manipulating other peoples' feelings seemed to give him a release too.an ultimate rush, a transcendent high.but this release was different. There was a fear in there also, a fear that he could be hurt since these were his own emotions and not someone else's. Ugh! What should he do?
Maybe feeling wasn't so bad. Maybe he should give it another try. Maybe it will work out to his advantage. Maybe he might like it. Maybe, just maybe.
*******************
{{Schuldig opened his eyes and looked around}}
Crawford opened his eyes and sat up. Was that a dream or a precognition? He didn't know, but there was one way to find out. He quickly threw some clothes on and speed walked down to the infirmary.
Funny, how he didn't think about why he was going or what he was going to do when he got down there, Crawford just knew that he had to be there. Down through the different corridors and stairwells he hurried toward where Schuldig would be waking up.
There was the opening to the infirmary at the end of the hall. One small door stood between him and the hopefully conscious telepath inside. Crawford reached the door. He opened it and hurried inside.
Just inside the door, to either side, were offices where the one doctor happened to be working. The main room was dark except for one lamp down by Schuldig's bed. Crawford hurried down to the other end of the room. There was Schu, on the bed.unconscious.
Crawford stopped at the foot of the bed. He looked at Schuldig's still unconscious form still lying in the bed. He sighed. The precog stood there for a good 10 minutes or so, but nothing happened. He turned around and leaned on the bed frame. He stared out the opposite window, not thinking of anything really, just looking.
"Maybe it was just a dream," he said aloud. He let out a chuckle to himself and walked away. And then suddenly.
"Crawford?"
The hoarse voice rang in his ears and made his insides jump as high as they could. Crawford whipped around to see Schuldig with his head turned and was staring at him.
Crawford forced himself to relax and stood up as straight as he could. "Well, it's nice to see that you are awake."
"Where am I?"
"You're in the infirmary."
Schuldig blinked and attempted to sit up. "The infirmary? How long have I been out?"
Crawford rushed over to help Schu into an upright position. "About three weeks or so."
"Three weeks!?"
"Yes, you've been out for quite some time."
Schuldig was finally able to sit with the help from Crawford. He'd been in a mental state for so long, that he almost forgot what physical contact felt like. Schu never quite appreciated the feel before.
"I should probably go tell the doctor that you're awake."
"Could you also get me some water?" Schu asked Crawford as he started to walk away.
"Yeah, sure."
Schuldig watched the clairvoyant man walk through the dark toward the front. Yes, that just might be what held him here.
Jeez, three weeks! How time does fly in a place with no sense of time. But then, he should have expected as much. Anytime he had taken his mind out of commission, the outside world would always speed by. Humph, no wonder he was hungry.and thirsty. Where was that water?
The doctor appeared out of the shadows, stethoscope already on his ears. He looked Schuldig over, checking vitals, looking at the few monitors there, and a couple of other little things. Crawford finally appeared with a cup of water, as the doctor was busy unhooking a few of the tubes and wires.
"Danke," Schu said quietly as he accepted the water. It was gone in one quick gulp.
"Well," the doctor piped up, "You seem to be fine. I see no physical affects from your coma. I would like to keep you in here for observation though, just through tomorrow. Right now, just get some rest." He walked away.
"Danke schön, Herr Docktor," Crawford said after the man.
"As if I haven't rested enough already," Schuldig blurted out as he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. "So Bradley, what have you been up to?" he smiled. "Haven't been checking up on me every day, have you?"
Crawford blinked at him. "Work as usual," he said as he sat on the bed next to Schuldig's bed, "but thinking mostly."
Schuldig perked an eyebrow. "Thinking? About what?"
"Nothing in particular," Crawford replied as he stared off into nowhere. "Just.this whole thing.those three.what they did, what they're going to do. In their eyes, you are one of the best. Yet, what they did was reckless; putting one of their own, one of their best in danger. It was an idiotic tactic, if you could call it a tactic. Someone that stupid doesn't deserve to be a leader or to decide who should be a leader." He paused.
Schuldig looked at him. "Crawford, is that 'concern' I hear coming from your mouth?"
Crawford looked at Schu. "But now is not the time and this is not the place to discuss this. I'm sorry I brought it up. You get some rest and I will check on you tomorrow." The precog rose up and walked out of the room.
Schuldig watched as he disappeared into the shadows. "Like I said before, 'as if I haven't rested enough already'. Besides, how do you turn off this light?"
*************
Rain poured outside, the precipitation cooling off everything from the sweltering June day. A wet breeze came through the open windows of Crawford's bedroom cooling the space off. Unfortunately, it provided minimal relief for the warm office where he was seated. The only vent for the cool air was the doorway between the two rooms.
He didn't have any work to do, no papers to fill out, no books to read, no schematics to look over, nothing. That was it. Everything was done. There was nothing left to learn, for him, nothing left to be taught.
Two days.
In two days he would leave this god-forsaken place and never return to it again. In two days, he would be doing Este's dirty work elsewhere. In two days he would get his orders from the dean and in two days, he was a full Este agent.
How depressing.
Well, at least he would have some freedom. He wouldn't be cooped up in some stuffy building from now on. He would have cities to wreak havoc upon instead of just a couple of offices.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened and a Schuldig stuck his head in.
"Guten Tag."
"Ah, I see they let you out of that infirmary. Not too many tests, I presume. How do you feel?"
Schuldig brought his entire self into the room and shut the door behind him. "I'm fine. No lasting effects, but then there never are."
"This isn't the first time you've been reduced to a coma-like state?"
"Nein, and it probably won't be the last." Schu moseyed on over to the couch and flopped down. It was probably the best seat in the office since it was situated next to the open doorway. He relaxed immensely from the cool breeze and pounding rain coming from the open windows in the adjacent room.
Crawford stared at Schu. It felt like only yesterday, yet forever that the telepath was in his office, flopped out over his furniture. Suddenly, it seemed as if nothing had changed; like that coma never happened. But it did, and it had affected Crawford as well as Schuldig.
"What are you thinking about?" Schuldig suddenly asked. It was a question that Schu felt odd asking, since he'd have no reason to. But then, as he'd come to learn on many occasions, Crawford was just special like that.
Crawford snapped back into reality. He thought about what he was thinking. Several thoughts were running through his head at that moment. He rose out of his chair and walked around to the front of the desk and leaned on it, facing Schu. Crawford felt he couldn't sit when he said this.
"I started to tell you this in the infirmary. These past three weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've come to this conclusion: I am not totally opposed to this 'Este-taking-over-the-world' idea. In fact, I've come to feel that this world could use a drastic change such as that. But, I don't like how they are going about it. I despise their methods of doing so. I hate the way they are manipulating these people and I hate the way they can't do their own dirty work. I have come to feel that the only way to stop Este is to outdo them; beat them to their goal. And I will bring them down if it means ruling the world myself."
Schuldig sat there, stunned.
"Now I know I say that now, but I won't be able to do it alone, even I will admit to that. I believe your help could be used. A team of a strong precog and a strong telepath."
Okay, it's not as if 'all' of this was necessarily sudden, but that's a lot of information for Crawford to just spill out like that. "May I ask," Schuldig questioned, "What brought this whole thought process on?"
Crawford tightened his jaw. What should he say; should he tell Schu anything? . "Alright, listen carefully, because I will never say or admit to this again."
Crawford turned so his back was now to the desk and Schu was now looking at his distinct profile. If Crawford were to face Schuldig, he didn't think he would be able to get this out. He took a deep breath.
"As far as Este goes, I'm particularly upset about the fact that it was you they attacked. I was. 'concerned' that you wouldn't wake up from that sleep of yours. These past three weeks had seemed rather empty. Granted, I've been alone for most of my life so it's not that I necessarily need you, but it was odd not having you here. It was like a sudden void. I mean, I was actually.shaken by you being in that coma. It. 'scared' me cause I didn't see anything in the future involving you. I don't know why.why I didn't see anything or why it scarred me. And I think I hate the feeling more than I hate Este."
Schuldig was speechless. Crawford never had poured his heart out like this. Hell, he didn't even know the man had a heart to pour out. And 'he' scared him! Well, it's not like it was his fault. Granted, Schu himself kind of forced the coma upon himself, but it was mostly them.
Schu starred out into space trying to absorb what he had just heard coming from Crawford's mouth.
Crawford inhaled. Wow, that was a lot of emotion for one conversation. Too much if you ask him. He looked over at Schuldig who was now oblivious to the world.
Thunder started to rumble outside and the wind seemed to pick-up slightly because it was now just catching pieces of Schuldig's hair as it traveled through the doorway.
Crawford blinked. All of a sudden, the redhead looked extremely attractive sitting on the couch looking completely expressionless.
He pushed himself off of the desk and moved over to the couch where he seated himself next to Schuldig. Schu noticed the sudden movement of the couch and realized Crawford was now sitting next to him. He turned his head and looked at the older precog, who in turn, was looking intensely at him.
The two of them stared at each other. Neither one knowing how long, neither one caring. Then Crawford reached his hand up and placed it under Schuldig's chin, pulling his face toward his own in the process. He placed a small kiss on Schu's left cheek and another one closer to his mouth.
Schuldig closed his eyes tightly; savoring every kiss he was receiving from Crawford. After that argument they had a while back involving their age difference, he thought Crawford would never touch him again. But then, Crawford didn't seem to exactly be in his right mind at the moment. Oh Gott, Schuldig wanted this so bad he could feel it, but would Bradley regret it later? He didn't want that.
Schuldig reached his hands up and, placing them on either side of Crawford's neck, he gently pushed him away. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
Crawford planted a firm kiss on Schuldig's lips and then backed his head away again slightly. He gave Schu the look he tends to give someone right before he's about to kick their ass. He quietly said, "I do. I want to show you what you'll miss if you ever do that to me again."
Schuldig stared at him. And then he smiled; not because he was amused by what Crawford said or the fact that even a non-precog could see where this was going, but just a smile. He relaxed, he opened himself up, he let himself be consumed by the older man.
Crawford kissed him again, feeling Schuldig's silly little smile against his lips. The telepath kissed him back. He felt Schu's arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Schuldig's warmth felt very inviting, his smell enticing, his taste, delicious. Crawford slipped an arm around Schu's waist and ran his other hand into the mass of red hair. Each kiss, each slip of their tongues came faster and more furious.
Then, Crawford stopped. Schuldig looked at him wondering what was wrong. "Bed." That's all he said, and Schuldig was up and heading toward the bedroom.
He didn't bother turning the light on. The lightning from outside lit up the room enough to find the bed, that's all he needed. Schu turned around to see Crawford coming through the doorway and closing the door behind him.
Crawford grabbed hold of Schuldig and they continued from where they left off in the previous room. He slowly moved the telepath back toward the bed. Schu's knees hit the mattress, they bent and he went down. Crawford removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand before placing a knee between Schuldig's legs and climbing onto the bed over him.
He leaned in and nibbled at the German's neck. His hand slowly caressed Schuldig's waist, pulling his shirt up, exposing soft flesh. Schuldig leaned his head back exposing more of his neck for his partner, all the while fiddling with the zipper on Crawford's pants.
Crawford put himself upright and helped with the button before leaning over and undoing Schuldig's as well. As he was doing so, Schu pulled the precog's pants down exposing his erect groin. Schuldig's own pants were soon off and also in the pile of clothing forming on the floor.
Schuldig backed himself up further into the bed. Crawford removed his shirt and tossed it before climbing up and nestling himself between Schuldig's legs. He moved in to kiss Schuldig. Schu placed his hands on the sides of Crawford's face and guided him to his own lips. They locked lips; their tongues searching, tasting each other. Small moans escaped from the depths of their throats.
Crawford ran his hand down the length of the German's body; softly caressing the front of his shoulder, running down his side, just brushing a thumb over a tender nipple, feeling the muscle definition beneath his palm, down to a thin hip and tight butt.
Schuldig shivered slightly at the American's touch. He opened his eyes slightly, just in time for a flash of lightning to illuminate the room and Crawford's face; eyes closed, a look of pleasure and passion upon his features, a look never seen. Schu closed his eyes again. He tightened his thigh muscles, squeezing Crawford's hips.
"I want you, Bradley," he whispered.
Crawford backed off of Schuldig slightly. He grabbed the redhead's legs and pulled him down the bed slightly. He placed his hands underneath Schu's thighs and pushed them up toward his head. Schuldig wrapped his legs up around Crawford's back as he moved back into position.
Schu could feel the tip of Crawford's erection caressing his skin, teasing him. The torture was horrendous, the anticipation, killing him.
Crawford pinned his partner's wrists to the bed, holding them tight
"Oh, Bradley, please."
Crawford nibbled at Schuldig's neck. "More?" he mumbled into his skin. All he got was a groan in response. He couldn't take it anymore either. After searching out the opening to Schuldig, Crawford slowly inserted himself in.
Schuldig bit his lip. He almost forgot what this felt like. He almost forgot how much he liked it. But there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the fact that he was with someone he knew, someone 'he' wanted, someone who wanted 'him' and not just his sex.
It's amazing how emotions can heighten the sense of pleasure. Schuldig would have never guessed.
Crawford quickened his pace. He drove himself in as far as he could. As soon as he hit Schuldig's prostate, Schuldig let out a yell, "Ah! Brad!"
Crawford let go of Schuldig's one hand, reached down and started to stroke him. Schuldig's breathing got faster; moans escaped his mouth. The pleasure of it all was building up in Crawford. He felt like he was going to explode.
Schuldig took his free hand and brought it down to grasp Crawford's moving one. He moved the older man's hand faster along the shaft. It just wasn't enough for him. Schu wanted Brad to be faster, harder.
Crawford felt a hand grab his and move it more. He tried to match his own rhythms. He looked down at his partner. He could just make out the moaning figure below him. Then, there was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. In that brief moment, Crawford could see that Schuldig's head was on it's side and he thought he could make out extreme delectation on the red-head's face. Bradley smiled, not that he wasn't already. This all was going to be over too soon.
He could feel it coming, both of them could. Brad let out a groan and released himself. Schuldig felt the warmth within him and he himself ejaculated upon the both of them. For one moment, Schuldig felt as if it was just the two of them. There were no voices, no thoughts. It was a moment of paradise where their rhythms were precise, their timing, impeccable.
Bradley collapsed onto Schuldig, who wrapped his arms around the American's neck. The two of them lay there panting and trying to catch their breath. Lightning still lit the room up, but the storm was farther away since it was only low rumbles of thunder now. Crawford listened to the sounds of the passing storm outside as well as Schu's heavy breathing.
Eventually, Crawford rolled off Schuldig and laid on his back staring at the images around him. He felt the body next to him move from its spot to his chest. Long strands of hair were starting to stick all over his perspiring skin. He brought a hand up and moved the pieces away and then letting his hand rest in the main mess of it.
Schuldig felt a whole bunch of hair clinging to his neck. It was rather uncomfortable. He sat up from where he had just placed his head and fiddled with his hair. Schu pulled all of his hair into a twist behind him; anything to get those pesky strands that didn't want to detach themselves from his sticky skin.
He suddenly felt a hand caress his back. Crawford ran his finger from the base of Schu's spin up as high as it would go without having to remove it from the bed.
Schuldig turned his head around to look at Crawford. "Was?"
Crawford looked at the image of his partner. "Why do you effect me like this?"
Schu let go of his hair, which untwisted and dropped back down to his back. He leaned over and planted a flirtatious kiss on the precog's lips. "Why do you let me effect you like this?"
The telepath gave Crawford one last kiss before lying back down, this time on his shoulder. The two of them drifted off into slumber as the last of the storm planted its fury on the world outside.
*****************
The heat from the sun coming through the window awoke Schuldig that morning. He awoke to find that he was no longer on Crawford but buried in a big fluffy pillow. He whipped himself around, thinking that Crawford had left, but he was still there, lying on his back on the other side of the bed.
Crawford looked at Schu when he turned quickly. "Problem?" he questioned.
"Nein," Schu said as he relaxed and laid back down. The two of them lay there. The silence in the room bothered Schuldig after awhile.
"What're you thinking about?" he questioned after awhile hoping the voice, even if it was his own, would help.
Silence.
Okay, this wasn't helping. Then he chuckled inwardly. He thought about how many people he's talked to, though most of them women, always seemed to like the strong, silent type. He came to kind of prefer that type also, but Crawford was just god damned ridiculous! He sighed.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
Whoa! Run that by me again. "What did you just say?" Schuldig turned his head to look at Crawford.
"I said that tomorrow I leave Rosenkreuz."
Schuldig sat up and stared at the older man. "Tomorrow? You leave tomorrow and you are just telling me now?"
"Yes."
He didn't know why, but Schuldig felt as if someone just ripped a vital organ out of him. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew Crawford was going to be leaving, and he knew it was soon, but a little more warning would have been nice.
He calmed himself. Schu took in a deep breath and exhaled.
"I would have told you sooner but you were in a coma when I was told. But anyway, tomorrow I get the final orders for wherever I'm going and I leave."
Silence, again.
Lovely. Their acquaintanceship started from Crawford wanting an ally in here and now that's what Schuldig has gotten used to and now he leaves and he now has nobody and it makes him so mad, and.and.
He calmed himself. Schu knew it was coming. He shouldn't be so angry.
He sighed, again.
"Well, do you need any help packing?" He looked over at Crawford.
"No, I can handle it." The man got up and walked to the bathroom. As the door shut, Schuldig slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. It already started to feel lonely in here.
*****************
Schuldig watched Crawford as he brought the last suitcase out of the bedroom and set it on the ground by the door. The precog was clad in his best business suit; shirt, vest, jacket, pants, and freshly shined shoes. Schu thought he just looked extremely hot and stuffy. But it was Crawford. He never questioned what he wanted to wear.
A man entered the room and took the last suitcase, leaving Crawford standing by the doorway and Schuldig hunched over on the couch. Crawford looked at the German. He didn't know what to say, or if he really wanted to say anything.
Schu looked up at him. "This sucks, you know."
Crawford shrugged. "Just learn to keep your big mouth shut and you'll do fine in here."
"So, tell me my clairvoyant associate, do you see "us" in the future?"
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Crawford said flatly.
Schuldig raised an eyebrow at the comment.
Crawford walked over to him and placed a hand under Schu's chin. "There's a saying where I come from that goes, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'"
"Humph. It's also said that absence makes you forget things."
"I have to go." Crawford dropped his hand and turned to leave. But, just as he was about to walk out of the room, he turned and in pure, New England accented English, he said, "You take care of yourself Schuldig. See ya 'round." And he left.
Schuldig blinked. He sat back in the couch and let the emptiness encompass him.
******************
Fräulein Menschenfeind handed Crawford a folder. "There are your orders. It's actually quite a lot for a new Este agent. The car outside will take you to the airport and you will proceed from there." The woman stood up from her desk. She looked Crawford up and down and looked at him as if she was pouting. "Good luck in your mission and welcome aboard, Oracle." She extended her hand and Crawford shook it.
"Danke Fräulein. I will do my best." He let go of her hand, turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hall, walked down the steps, and walked out the front door. There was a car waiting outside, the driver holding the door open for him. He got into the car and it left. Through the gates of the ominous Rosenkreuz and out to the streets of Berlin, Germany.
Crawford sat thinking about the time in the future when he could take this place down, all of Este. He sat thinking as the car drove him to the next chapter in his life.