Author's notes: Ya'll are lucky to get this chapter. I edited it once and
my computer ate it. ^^ zzzzzzzz... Why I do this so late at night I will
never fathom. Again, thanks for the reviews!!! *glomps all reviewers*
Maybe, as a treat, I'll get three chapters up today (Tuesday) seeing as how
it's my b-day and all. I'm older than Nagi now! I feel accomplished. ^^
Enjoy, and pray that my computer doesn't eat any more of my editings. -_-
^^
Chapter Ten: Mission: Impossible Train Ride
Brad and Schuldig tensed, and the people around the screamed. Some of them ran, some of the dropped to the floor, and some of them stood there. Julia looked around to try and locate the source of the gunfire.
Schuldig looked back behind him. "There," he whispered, pointing to a man standing with a gun.
"Get on the train." Julia ordered, almost inaudibly.
Brad dragged his friend behind him, sitting him down in the nearest seat and plopping down next to him.
"The train won't move with that gunman out there," Schuldig said. Julia stepped off the train, taking out her gloc. She had known they would come.
Schuldig grimaced as he watched Julia. This couldn't be good.
/Schuldig, you up for a little mind control?/ Julia called out, keeping her face neutral.
/Sure thing. Just tell me what you need me to do,/ the young German responded.
/I need you to locate the conductor of the train. You've got to get that train out of here, you understand me?/
/Ja./ Schuldig closed his eyes, ignored his pain, and focused on the frighten man in front. Panic made his job so much easier. A few seconds later, the train was put in motion.
/Get on, Julia. We're leaving,/ Schuldig called mentally.
As the train began to pull away from the dock, she fired off three rounds at different men in black suits. She hopped on. The men were following.
Schuldig sensed something was going wrong and stood, regretting the hastened action as soon as he did so. Everything started to spin and he sat back down.
Crawford stared out the window. There were seven of them out there. Five of them were going to make it on the train. He carefully leaned over and pulled his pant leg up, pulled out a gun from an ankle holster, and sat back in the seat.
"What's going to happen?" the blond-green haired teen asked from the seat next to him.
Brad checked his ammo and cursed under his breath. He only had four bullets left. "We've got one more battle to fight before we get out of Germany." he said.
Schuldig noticed his friend's gun and smirked slightly. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a slightly smaller one. "I wasn't entirely unprepared for this," he mumbled as he stood once more, much slower this time. "What the plan?"
"We wait. Surprise them. Two injured kids and woman, they can't think we can do much damage." Julia joined them in the car. "We're not going to get out of this easily, are we?"
Brad shook his head negative. "Where are they going to come from?" the younger teen asked.
"Everywhere."
Schuldig growled a low curse in German as his senses jumped to life. This would not be easy.
Brad's eyes scanned the car. There were only a few other people in it, since most of the passengers were still on the platform, sacred to death. He closed his eyes. Three of them were in other cars, making their way towards them. The other two...he couldn't locate them.
Schuldig's eyes caught a glimpse of metal shining in one of the passengers' hands. "Brad...."
Brad whirled around and fired one direct, clear shot. The man fell to the floor. "Three left." he said grimly. "Here or out there?"
"Bullets."
Schuldig cocked his own gun. He'd never actually used it, but he assumed now was as good a time as any to learn.
"Tell me you know how to aim and fire it." Brad said warily.
Schuldig glared back at him. "I can aim as well as you," he growled.
/No need to get defensive./ Brad retorted.
Julia's eyes were riveted to the ceiling. If she listened closely...
Schuldig closed his eyes, searching for a mind. "There!" he shouted. Bullets filled the small isle.
The three scattered, ducking behind other seats. The few other passengers screamed and also took cover. "The other two must be on the roof of the train," Brad muttered.
"Is there a way to get to them?" the German teen asked.
"Yes. But there are still two on the train. You and Julia stay here. I'll take care of the ones on the roof." Brad said, heading for one of the doors.
"Nein(sp?)" Schuldig answered, grabbing his wrist. "I'll take care of them. I have more bullets than you do so I'll need less back up." That said he grinned and headed out.
Brad reached to stop him, but Julia took his arm. "Let him go." she murmured in English. "We have two to take care of ourselves."
Schuldig climbed up to the top of the train, his ribs protesting every inch of the way. He saw one of the men in front and fired.
Julia fired two shots, and a third member went down. That left one man up, and one man in the car. She looked over at Brad and noticed his eyes were blank. She waved a hand in front of him. "Hellooo....Brad?"
Schuldig stopped as he felt pressure against his back. "Raise your hands slowly and don't try anything," a low voice said. Schuldig shuddered slightly, then a smirk crossed his face. He closed his eyes in concentration, digging into the man's mind. There had to be something there he could use against him.
Julia pushed a strand of silver-white hair out of her face as Brad snapped back to reality. She noticed his body was shaking. "Where's Schuldig?" he whispered.
"On the top, where he's suppose to be," the young woman answered.
The American seized the top of one of the seats in a death grip. "The second one, the one down here, he's not down here any more..."
Schuldig continued to concentrate hard on the mind of the man behind him. He found what he was looking for and smirked.
Brad pulled himself up the ladder on the side of the train. It was harder than he thought it would be, now that the train was moving at a rather fast pace. But he couldn't quit now.
Schuldig felt the connection snap, almost painfully, and the man grabbed his shirt collar. "I told you not to try anything.," he hissed.
The second man joined him, approaching them from the front. "You got him, huh?" he called to his comrade. Brad pulled himself onto the roof of the train, unseen by the three on top.
Schuldig's eyes widened. He cursed in German and struggled to free himself.
"Just kill him and be done with it." The second man said, lighting a cigarette. "That's what we're here for." Brad stood shakily. Over his dead body.
Golden eyes locked with blue ones briefly. A smirk crossed his pale features.
The man holding Schuldig dug the gun harder into his back and cocked it. "Prepare to die, brat."
Brad leveled his gun.
Schuldig cringed slightly at the sound of a gun going off, but quickly realized he wasn't dead as the grip on his shirt loosened and the man behind him fell.
His companion was smarter and quicker. He shoved Schuldig, sending him toppling to the roof and drew on Brad, firing four shots. Brad fired once, and fell to his knees with the shaking of the train. He only had one bullet left.
His younger companion tried to latch on to anything, trying to keep from sliding off of the train. /BRAD!/
There wasn't going to be enough time, and Brad's heart twisted inside him. He stood again and lunged at the man, taking him down onto the roof. One good shot, all he needed was one good shot. Geheim's lackey still had three bullets left though, and fired twice as the American came at him.
Schuldig got his footing and sat up, grabbing for his gun he'd dropped.
The two men rolled, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the train. Neither man was willing to let the other go, both determined to win.
/Brad, is there any way to get away from him and give me a clear shot?/
Somehow, the man heard it to. "No!" he snarled. He pitched them both to the side, sending them both towards the edge.
"BRAD!" Schuldig called. He edged his way over towards them as quickly as he could.
They were going over, he could see it coming. The man kneed Brad in the stomach, causing him to cry out. He shoved the gun against the man and fired. The man's eyes went blank and he fell over the edge, grabbing Brad's coat as he went. Brad yelped and grabbed the side of the train.
Schuldig grabbed his friend's wrist, trying to balance himself as he did so. "Hang on," he strained, pulling back with all his weight.
Brad grabbed the side with his other hand as Schuldig pulled on him, trying to push himself up as much as he could. "Wasn't planning on letting go," he gasped.
The smaller teen finally pulled his friend over the side and found himself lying on the top of the train, ribs aching.
The American lay next to him, gasping. His stomach hurt with a flaming intensity. "Daijoubu?" he asked.
/I'm not quite sure at the moment.../
/We're alive, ne?/
/Ja.... alive./ Schuldig rolled to his side, a coughing fit making his ribs hurt more. /Doesn't it end?/ he demanded more to himself than to his friend, but didn't have the strength to keep his own thoughts in his own head.
Brad stared at the sky as the world flew by. "No. It never does." he whispered.
Schuldig sighed as he struggled to his knees. /I suppose the better place for us would be inside, ne?/
"If you can move, have fun."
Schuldig sat next to his friend. "Can you?"
"I don't feel like trying, to be honest with you."
Schuldig laughed slightly. "You going to be okay?"
"Everything heals with time, I've been told." Brad replied, still staring at the night sky above them.
The young German stretched out by his friend. "My head hurts," he whispered.
Brad reached out and touched his temple. He closed his eyes and began to touch their minds together.
"Don't you dare try to take the pain. You're in enough as it is," the younger teen mumbled tiredly.
"Just trust me." He began pulling Schuldig's pain away, bit-by-bit.
Schuldig sighed and relaxed. "Don't hurt yourself."
Brad smiled and continued relieving his younger friend's mind. He found that when Schuldig didn't hurt, he didn't hurt as much either.
The green-blond haired teen yawned and curled up slightly. "Don't fall asleep out here, boys," Julia called from the opening to the roof.
"Why not? There's nothing left out here to hurt us. We're lying perpendicular to the train, so I don't think we'll be fall off." Brad replied.
She smirked. "I think we've lost Schuldig for the night," she whispered as she knelt down next to the sleeping German.
"Leave him be then. He needs to sleep." Brad murmured. "I'll take care of him," he added.
"I'm awake..." came the mumbled reply from the German.
Julia smoothed his bangs back. "You really should come inside. We got a private car. I'd hate to have you two come this far and find one of you missing in the morning."
/We can stay here just fine./ Schuldig complained.
/Not in a safe position, unless he holds you all night. I don't think he can roll./ she replied.
The teen groaned as his eyes slid open slowly, glaring slightly at the woman above him.
"It's an option, if he's willing," she said with a grin.
Schuldig glared again and shoved himself to his knees, finding himself falling weakly back to them.
Brad stood and leaned down for Schuldig. "Come on, let's get some sleep, ne?"
Schuldig yelped slightly as his older friend scooped him up. Exhaustion took over, voices filled is head, and the last thing he remembered was his eyes rolling back as he passed out.
Julia led the American to the private car that they had. Brad laid Schuldig down on one of the beds and sank wearily beside him. Julia motioned for him to come into the bathroom so she could clean his wounds up. "We'll take care of Schuldig in the morning." she whispered. He nodded, glancing back at the green-blond haired boy.
Julia pulled out something to clean and wrap the young American's wound and nodded for him to sit. He did so.
She pulled off his coat and shirt, shaking her head at the amount of blood the young man had lost. "You're a lucky boy, Crawford. Another hour and you could have bled to death." she murmured, wiping the blood away from the wound.
He cringed and laid his head back, closing his eyes.
"You fight hard for him, ne, Crawford? You only met him a week ago." She said, half to herself as she applied disinfectant. The bullet had gone through, and she assumed that if he hadn't dropped dead by now there was no major internal damage.
"I suppose I do," he whispered.
She wrapped gauze around the small hole in his skin, wishing that he would see a doctor for it later, but knowing he probably wouldn't. "You'll do fine in Tokyo. I'm sure of it." she said with a smile.
"Will I go with you and Schuldig?"
Julia sighed and leaned against the sink. "I really hadn't planned on two of you. But we don't have a choice now. I won't send you back. I won't send him back. So you'll both go."
/Brad?/ a quiet whisper came from the other room
Brad lifted his head. /Yeah?/ he called back.
There was silence for a moment as the young telepath gathered his thoughts, looked at his surroundings, and sorted out just what had happened.
/Daijoubu?/
/Ja,/ came the hesitant reply.
/You need anything?/
/Nein, sorry. Have I been out long?/
/About fifteen minutes. Go back to sleep./
/Are you okay?/
/Hai. Go back to sleep, Schu./
/Okay,/ the younger teen whispered as he drifted off.
"Stay with him, ne? I'm going to make a quick check of the train, then I'll be back." Julia said softly as she stood. Brad nodded.
The young American sat down in the chair next to the bed that Schuldig lay on. The German teen was sleeping fitfully.
Brad reached over and smoothed his bangs back. /You're safe now,/ he thought.
Schuldig seemed to relax with the contact of the older boy. When Brad removed his hand, he began trembling once more. His eyes opened slightly. "Why won't they ever go away?" he mumbled.
/Because it is your gift and curse to hear them./ Brad replied gently. /Can I make it better for you?/ he asked.
Schuldig looked up at him. His eyes were frightened and pain filled. /I.../
/What? Tell me what I can do. Anything./ Brad said, worry etching his face.
The young teen did not respond as he fought back a verbal scream. Why were they overwhelming him now, he didn't know.
Brad moved to sit on the bed next to him and took the smaller boy's hand. It was the shields again. There had to be some way of getting rid of this.
The German relaxed once more, eyes still closed., head pounding.
Brad gently scooted the boy over and lay down next to him. "It'll get better," he whispered.
"When?" the golden-eyed boy responded.
/I don't know. But it will end./
Schuldig nodded, a movement barely caught by the elder boy. "I was dreaming about them before I woke," he whispered.
"The voices?" Brad asked. Couldn't the kid even sleep without their presence?
"Nein," the teen whispered. "They were beginning to seep in, but I wasn't dreaming about them."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"My parents." The words were barely audible.
"What did you dream about your parents?" Brad whispered.
"Their death..." Schuldig shuddered.
"I'm sorry." The American sighed quietly.
Schuldig smiled slightly, though not a humorous one. "Not your fault."
"It is. I could have stopped him from making you remember."
"What happened did happen. Doesn't matter if I remember it or not. I use to dream about it anyway."
"You weren't responsible for it." Brad said.
"I was," Schuldig answered, sitting up in bed and looking away. "And my mother knew I would do it."
"Your mother knew she would have a strong son that she would love, no matter what it cost her. Your life meant so much more. She knew that. She could have stopped it."
"Should have."
"She loved you very much."
Schuldig pulled his knees to his chest and placed his chin on them. "I wonder, sometimes, if my father even knew that I would kill him."
"I don't think your mother would have kept something like that from him."
"He would have killed me, I think," Schuldig said, distantly. "I wonder why he didn't."
"I'm glad he never had the chance." Brad said, half to himself.
"What would have happened to you if you'd never met me? Wouldn't it have been easier?"
Brad curled his lip. "Easier isn't' always better. I'm willing to pay in blood for the things I need."
Schuldig glanced back at his friend. "Doshite? Why do I suddenly mean so much to you? I didn't seem to when we met."
Brad looked away. "I have to have a reason, ne?" he asked.
"Most people have to have something in it for them to help someone else."
"Maybe it's because no one's ever cared if I lived or died before and meant it. You're in it, so I help you. Call it fate, or whatever, some things are just supposed to happen. Like our friendship."
Schuldig grinned. "Did you know you quiet them?"
Brad looked back at him, startled. "Quiet them?"
"The voices that scream in my head day in and day out."
Brad half smiled. "I quiet them?"
"Maybe an organized mind quiets the chaotic one, ne?"
"Maybe."
The train came to a sudden stop and Schuldig found himself sprawled on the floor at the foot of the bed. "What the..."
Brad had toppled off the side of the bed to the floor. "Just wonderful. What next?" he muttered.
There was no answer from the young German. His eyes had gone blank and he seemed lost to the outside world.
A sense of panic crept over the oracle. He had not seen this coming. He crawled over and knelt in front of Schuldig. "Schuldig?" he asked.
The young telepath trembled slightly, eyes still vacant. His eyes then lit back up, a pained expression crossing through them and he let out a scream, pitching forward. Brad caught him. The young teen tasted blood on his lips. /They've got a very strong telekinetic working with them,/ he mentally whispered.
He stared down at him, shock on his face. What kind of telekinetic could be that powerful? And hadn't they killed the five already? He wiped the blood on Schuldig's lip away with his thumb. "This is just great. What happened to getting out of Germany?" he growled.
/Maybe we're out?/ Schuldig mentally whispered, fighting back a coughing fit. Whatever the telekinetic had done was powerful.
/I don't think so. Not yet. But we will be, so help me./
Schuldig coughed, trembling. He growled something in German and closed his eyes.
Brad held him closer and stretched his mind to shield his. They hadn't come this far to be murdered now.
"Nein," the teen whispered. "Let me try to find him."
"Are you sure?"
"If I can find his mind, Julia can take care of him, ne?"
The American reluctantly relented, withdrawing his shields. He watched the younger boy carefully.
Schuldig reached out, finding the telekinetic. "Found him," he whispered. As soon as the words left his mouth, the telekinetic struck again, causing the telepath to fall the to ground, coughing up more blood.
Brad cursed under his breath and cradled Schuldig against him, throwing his shields back up. "Where? Where is he?"
Schuldig swallowed hard and shuddered, unable to answer.
He steadied the green-blonde head with one hand. /Come on, Schuldig. Stay with me. Where is he?/
The German pulled his blood stained hand away from his mouth. /Two cars down,/ he managed.
Chapter Ten: Mission: Impossible Train Ride
Brad and Schuldig tensed, and the people around the screamed. Some of them ran, some of the dropped to the floor, and some of them stood there. Julia looked around to try and locate the source of the gunfire.
Schuldig looked back behind him. "There," he whispered, pointing to a man standing with a gun.
"Get on the train." Julia ordered, almost inaudibly.
Brad dragged his friend behind him, sitting him down in the nearest seat and plopping down next to him.
"The train won't move with that gunman out there," Schuldig said. Julia stepped off the train, taking out her gloc. She had known they would come.
Schuldig grimaced as he watched Julia. This couldn't be good.
/Schuldig, you up for a little mind control?/ Julia called out, keeping her face neutral.
/Sure thing. Just tell me what you need me to do,/ the young German responded.
/I need you to locate the conductor of the train. You've got to get that train out of here, you understand me?/
/Ja./ Schuldig closed his eyes, ignored his pain, and focused on the frighten man in front. Panic made his job so much easier. A few seconds later, the train was put in motion.
/Get on, Julia. We're leaving,/ Schuldig called mentally.
As the train began to pull away from the dock, she fired off three rounds at different men in black suits. She hopped on. The men were following.
Schuldig sensed something was going wrong and stood, regretting the hastened action as soon as he did so. Everything started to spin and he sat back down.
Crawford stared out the window. There were seven of them out there. Five of them were going to make it on the train. He carefully leaned over and pulled his pant leg up, pulled out a gun from an ankle holster, and sat back in the seat.
"What's going to happen?" the blond-green haired teen asked from the seat next to him.
Brad checked his ammo and cursed under his breath. He only had four bullets left. "We've got one more battle to fight before we get out of Germany." he said.
Schuldig noticed his friend's gun and smirked slightly. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a slightly smaller one. "I wasn't entirely unprepared for this," he mumbled as he stood once more, much slower this time. "What the plan?"
"We wait. Surprise them. Two injured kids and woman, they can't think we can do much damage." Julia joined them in the car. "We're not going to get out of this easily, are we?"
Brad shook his head negative. "Where are they going to come from?" the younger teen asked.
"Everywhere."
Schuldig growled a low curse in German as his senses jumped to life. This would not be easy.
Brad's eyes scanned the car. There were only a few other people in it, since most of the passengers were still on the platform, sacred to death. He closed his eyes. Three of them were in other cars, making their way towards them. The other two...he couldn't locate them.
Schuldig's eyes caught a glimpse of metal shining in one of the passengers' hands. "Brad...."
Brad whirled around and fired one direct, clear shot. The man fell to the floor. "Three left." he said grimly. "Here or out there?"
"Bullets."
Schuldig cocked his own gun. He'd never actually used it, but he assumed now was as good a time as any to learn.
"Tell me you know how to aim and fire it." Brad said warily.
Schuldig glared back at him. "I can aim as well as you," he growled.
/No need to get defensive./ Brad retorted.
Julia's eyes were riveted to the ceiling. If she listened closely...
Schuldig closed his eyes, searching for a mind. "There!" he shouted. Bullets filled the small isle.
The three scattered, ducking behind other seats. The few other passengers screamed and also took cover. "The other two must be on the roof of the train," Brad muttered.
"Is there a way to get to them?" the German teen asked.
"Yes. But there are still two on the train. You and Julia stay here. I'll take care of the ones on the roof." Brad said, heading for one of the doors.
"Nein(sp?)" Schuldig answered, grabbing his wrist. "I'll take care of them. I have more bullets than you do so I'll need less back up." That said he grinned and headed out.
Brad reached to stop him, but Julia took his arm. "Let him go." she murmured in English. "We have two to take care of ourselves."
Schuldig climbed up to the top of the train, his ribs protesting every inch of the way. He saw one of the men in front and fired.
Julia fired two shots, and a third member went down. That left one man up, and one man in the car. She looked over at Brad and noticed his eyes were blank. She waved a hand in front of him. "Hellooo....Brad?"
Schuldig stopped as he felt pressure against his back. "Raise your hands slowly and don't try anything," a low voice said. Schuldig shuddered slightly, then a smirk crossed his face. He closed his eyes in concentration, digging into the man's mind. There had to be something there he could use against him.
Julia pushed a strand of silver-white hair out of her face as Brad snapped back to reality. She noticed his body was shaking. "Where's Schuldig?" he whispered.
"On the top, where he's suppose to be," the young woman answered.
The American seized the top of one of the seats in a death grip. "The second one, the one down here, he's not down here any more..."
Schuldig continued to concentrate hard on the mind of the man behind him. He found what he was looking for and smirked.
Brad pulled himself up the ladder on the side of the train. It was harder than he thought it would be, now that the train was moving at a rather fast pace. But he couldn't quit now.
Schuldig felt the connection snap, almost painfully, and the man grabbed his shirt collar. "I told you not to try anything.," he hissed.
The second man joined him, approaching them from the front. "You got him, huh?" he called to his comrade. Brad pulled himself onto the roof of the train, unseen by the three on top.
Schuldig's eyes widened. He cursed in German and struggled to free himself.
"Just kill him and be done with it." The second man said, lighting a cigarette. "That's what we're here for." Brad stood shakily. Over his dead body.
Golden eyes locked with blue ones briefly. A smirk crossed his pale features.
The man holding Schuldig dug the gun harder into his back and cocked it. "Prepare to die, brat."
Brad leveled his gun.
Schuldig cringed slightly at the sound of a gun going off, but quickly realized he wasn't dead as the grip on his shirt loosened and the man behind him fell.
His companion was smarter and quicker. He shoved Schuldig, sending him toppling to the roof and drew on Brad, firing four shots. Brad fired once, and fell to his knees with the shaking of the train. He only had one bullet left.
His younger companion tried to latch on to anything, trying to keep from sliding off of the train. /BRAD!/
There wasn't going to be enough time, and Brad's heart twisted inside him. He stood again and lunged at the man, taking him down onto the roof. One good shot, all he needed was one good shot. Geheim's lackey still had three bullets left though, and fired twice as the American came at him.
Schuldig got his footing and sat up, grabbing for his gun he'd dropped.
The two men rolled, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the train. Neither man was willing to let the other go, both determined to win.
/Brad, is there any way to get away from him and give me a clear shot?/
Somehow, the man heard it to. "No!" he snarled. He pitched them both to the side, sending them both towards the edge.
"BRAD!" Schuldig called. He edged his way over towards them as quickly as he could.
They were going over, he could see it coming. The man kneed Brad in the stomach, causing him to cry out. He shoved the gun against the man and fired. The man's eyes went blank and he fell over the edge, grabbing Brad's coat as he went. Brad yelped and grabbed the side of the train.
Schuldig grabbed his friend's wrist, trying to balance himself as he did so. "Hang on," he strained, pulling back with all his weight.
Brad grabbed the side with his other hand as Schuldig pulled on him, trying to push himself up as much as he could. "Wasn't planning on letting go," he gasped.
The smaller teen finally pulled his friend over the side and found himself lying on the top of the train, ribs aching.
The American lay next to him, gasping. His stomach hurt with a flaming intensity. "Daijoubu?" he asked.
/I'm not quite sure at the moment.../
/We're alive, ne?/
/Ja.... alive./ Schuldig rolled to his side, a coughing fit making his ribs hurt more. /Doesn't it end?/ he demanded more to himself than to his friend, but didn't have the strength to keep his own thoughts in his own head.
Brad stared at the sky as the world flew by. "No. It never does." he whispered.
Schuldig sighed as he struggled to his knees. /I suppose the better place for us would be inside, ne?/
"If you can move, have fun."
Schuldig sat next to his friend. "Can you?"
"I don't feel like trying, to be honest with you."
Schuldig laughed slightly. "You going to be okay?"
"Everything heals with time, I've been told." Brad replied, still staring at the night sky above them.
The young German stretched out by his friend. "My head hurts," he whispered.
Brad reached out and touched his temple. He closed his eyes and began to touch their minds together.
"Don't you dare try to take the pain. You're in enough as it is," the younger teen mumbled tiredly.
"Just trust me." He began pulling Schuldig's pain away, bit-by-bit.
Schuldig sighed and relaxed. "Don't hurt yourself."
Brad smiled and continued relieving his younger friend's mind. He found that when Schuldig didn't hurt, he didn't hurt as much either.
The green-blond haired teen yawned and curled up slightly. "Don't fall asleep out here, boys," Julia called from the opening to the roof.
"Why not? There's nothing left out here to hurt us. We're lying perpendicular to the train, so I don't think we'll be fall off." Brad replied.
She smirked. "I think we've lost Schuldig for the night," she whispered as she knelt down next to the sleeping German.
"Leave him be then. He needs to sleep." Brad murmured. "I'll take care of him," he added.
"I'm awake..." came the mumbled reply from the German.
Julia smoothed his bangs back. "You really should come inside. We got a private car. I'd hate to have you two come this far and find one of you missing in the morning."
/We can stay here just fine./ Schuldig complained.
/Not in a safe position, unless he holds you all night. I don't think he can roll./ she replied.
The teen groaned as his eyes slid open slowly, glaring slightly at the woman above him.
"It's an option, if he's willing," she said with a grin.
Schuldig glared again and shoved himself to his knees, finding himself falling weakly back to them.
Brad stood and leaned down for Schuldig. "Come on, let's get some sleep, ne?"
Schuldig yelped slightly as his older friend scooped him up. Exhaustion took over, voices filled is head, and the last thing he remembered was his eyes rolling back as he passed out.
Julia led the American to the private car that they had. Brad laid Schuldig down on one of the beds and sank wearily beside him. Julia motioned for him to come into the bathroom so she could clean his wounds up. "We'll take care of Schuldig in the morning." she whispered. He nodded, glancing back at the green-blond haired boy.
Julia pulled out something to clean and wrap the young American's wound and nodded for him to sit. He did so.
She pulled off his coat and shirt, shaking her head at the amount of blood the young man had lost. "You're a lucky boy, Crawford. Another hour and you could have bled to death." she murmured, wiping the blood away from the wound.
He cringed and laid his head back, closing his eyes.
"You fight hard for him, ne, Crawford? You only met him a week ago." She said, half to herself as she applied disinfectant. The bullet had gone through, and she assumed that if he hadn't dropped dead by now there was no major internal damage.
"I suppose I do," he whispered.
She wrapped gauze around the small hole in his skin, wishing that he would see a doctor for it later, but knowing he probably wouldn't. "You'll do fine in Tokyo. I'm sure of it." she said with a smile.
"Will I go with you and Schuldig?"
Julia sighed and leaned against the sink. "I really hadn't planned on two of you. But we don't have a choice now. I won't send you back. I won't send him back. So you'll both go."
/Brad?/ a quiet whisper came from the other room
Brad lifted his head. /Yeah?/ he called back.
There was silence for a moment as the young telepath gathered his thoughts, looked at his surroundings, and sorted out just what had happened.
/Daijoubu?/
/Ja,/ came the hesitant reply.
/You need anything?/
/Nein, sorry. Have I been out long?/
/About fifteen minutes. Go back to sleep./
/Are you okay?/
/Hai. Go back to sleep, Schu./
/Okay,/ the younger teen whispered as he drifted off.
"Stay with him, ne? I'm going to make a quick check of the train, then I'll be back." Julia said softly as she stood. Brad nodded.
The young American sat down in the chair next to the bed that Schuldig lay on. The German teen was sleeping fitfully.
Brad reached over and smoothed his bangs back. /You're safe now,/ he thought.
Schuldig seemed to relax with the contact of the older boy. When Brad removed his hand, he began trembling once more. His eyes opened slightly. "Why won't they ever go away?" he mumbled.
/Because it is your gift and curse to hear them./ Brad replied gently. /Can I make it better for you?/ he asked.
Schuldig looked up at him. His eyes were frightened and pain filled. /I.../
/What? Tell me what I can do. Anything./ Brad said, worry etching his face.
The young teen did not respond as he fought back a verbal scream. Why were they overwhelming him now, he didn't know.
Brad moved to sit on the bed next to him and took the smaller boy's hand. It was the shields again. There had to be some way of getting rid of this.
The German relaxed once more, eyes still closed., head pounding.
Brad gently scooted the boy over and lay down next to him. "It'll get better," he whispered.
"When?" the golden-eyed boy responded.
/I don't know. But it will end./
Schuldig nodded, a movement barely caught by the elder boy. "I was dreaming about them before I woke," he whispered.
"The voices?" Brad asked. Couldn't the kid even sleep without their presence?
"Nein," the teen whispered. "They were beginning to seep in, but I wasn't dreaming about them."
"What were you dreaming about?"
"My parents." The words were barely audible.
"What did you dream about your parents?" Brad whispered.
"Their death..." Schuldig shuddered.
"I'm sorry." The American sighed quietly.
Schuldig smiled slightly, though not a humorous one. "Not your fault."
"It is. I could have stopped him from making you remember."
"What happened did happen. Doesn't matter if I remember it or not. I use to dream about it anyway."
"You weren't responsible for it." Brad said.
"I was," Schuldig answered, sitting up in bed and looking away. "And my mother knew I would do it."
"Your mother knew she would have a strong son that she would love, no matter what it cost her. Your life meant so much more. She knew that. She could have stopped it."
"Should have."
"She loved you very much."
Schuldig pulled his knees to his chest and placed his chin on them. "I wonder, sometimes, if my father even knew that I would kill him."
"I don't think your mother would have kept something like that from him."
"He would have killed me, I think," Schuldig said, distantly. "I wonder why he didn't."
"I'm glad he never had the chance." Brad said, half to himself.
"What would have happened to you if you'd never met me? Wouldn't it have been easier?"
Brad curled his lip. "Easier isn't' always better. I'm willing to pay in blood for the things I need."
Schuldig glanced back at his friend. "Doshite? Why do I suddenly mean so much to you? I didn't seem to when we met."
Brad looked away. "I have to have a reason, ne?" he asked.
"Most people have to have something in it for them to help someone else."
"Maybe it's because no one's ever cared if I lived or died before and meant it. You're in it, so I help you. Call it fate, or whatever, some things are just supposed to happen. Like our friendship."
Schuldig grinned. "Did you know you quiet them?"
Brad looked back at him, startled. "Quiet them?"
"The voices that scream in my head day in and day out."
Brad half smiled. "I quiet them?"
"Maybe an organized mind quiets the chaotic one, ne?"
"Maybe."
The train came to a sudden stop and Schuldig found himself sprawled on the floor at the foot of the bed. "What the..."
Brad had toppled off the side of the bed to the floor. "Just wonderful. What next?" he muttered.
There was no answer from the young German. His eyes had gone blank and he seemed lost to the outside world.
A sense of panic crept over the oracle. He had not seen this coming. He crawled over and knelt in front of Schuldig. "Schuldig?" he asked.
The young telepath trembled slightly, eyes still vacant. His eyes then lit back up, a pained expression crossing through them and he let out a scream, pitching forward. Brad caught him. The young teen tasted blood on his lips. /They've got a very strong telekinetic working with them,/ he mentally whispered.
He stared down at him, shock on his face. What kind of telekinetic could be that powerful? And hadn't they killed the five already? He wiped the blood on Schuldig's lip away with his thumb. "This is just great. What happened to getting out of Germany?" he growled.
/Maybe we're out?/ Schuldig mentally whispered, fighting back a coughing fit. Whatever the telekinetic had done was powerful.
/I don't think so. Not yet. But we will be, so help me./
Schuldig coughed, trembling. He growled something in German and closed his eyes.
Brad held him closer and stretched his mind to shield his. They hadn't come this far to be murdered now.
"Nein," the teen whispered. "Let me try to find him."
"Are you sure?"
"If I can find his mind, Julia can take care of him, ne?"
The American reluctantly relented, withdrawing his shields. He watched the younger boy carefully.
Schuldig reached out, finding the telekinetic. "Found him," he whispered. As soon as the words left his mouth, the telekinetic struck again, causing the telepath to fall the to ground, coughing up more blood.
Brad cursed under his breath and cradled Schuldig against him, throwing his shields back up. "Where? Where is he?"
Schuldig swallowed hard and shuddered, unable to answer.
He steadied the green-blonde head with one hand. /Come on, Schuldig. Stay with me. Where is he?/
The German pulled his blood stained hand away from his mouth. /Two cars down,/ he managed.