Chapter Eighteen: Life's A Pill
Author's notes: WUHA! EUREKA! And other various expressions of finding things! We have found the missing chat (Well, Chase found it while I bit my fingernails to shreds.) My apologies for the lack of updates, I started school at the beginning of August, and started my first job as well. @_@ Whoo... yeah... ^^ Enjoy! We're almost to the end!
At Julia's warning, Adrian backed off. He stared at Schuldig. "Remember." he murmured before disappearing down the hall.
Julia let out a vivid curse in German.
Schuldig shook in anger as he watched the man retreat. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked back to see Brad Crawford.
Julia inhaled a deep breath. "Egotistical jerk." she muttered. She moved her gaze to the two young men next to her.
"Do you think that was the truth, Julia?" Schuldig asked quietly.
Julia didn't answer for a long moment. "I don't know, Schuldig. I'm not a precog. I can't answer that."
Schuldig turned his eyes back to Brad, and then closed them. "I'd never hurt you, you know that. I'd die before hurting you."
Brad squeezed the shoulder he was holding. "I know." he whispered.
"How do you work with him?" Schuldig asked, anger still lingering on the edge of his voice.
"He's not like that most of the time. I don't know what's wrong with him. I'm sorry." Julia said.
"I guess I just set wrong with some people."
"Stay here. Order out pizza or something. Get your hand bandaged, Brad. I have to go after him." Julia said distantly.
The two young men watched her as she disappeared after him. To where, they did not know.
"Do you inspire the same kind of love/hate relationship in everyone you meet?" Brad asked dryly, leading them back into the apartment.
"I don't try," the German responded.
Brad shut the door behind them and headed towards the bathroom in the back. "I hate glass," he mumbled.
/Then don't hit it,/ came the reply echoing in his mind.
/Really./ Brad thought, switching on the light in the bathroom. He dug around in the cabinets for some antiseptic and gauze. He'd have to change the bandage around his waist as well.
"Really," Schuldig said from behind him.
Brad jumped at the sound and glared lightly at him. "I'll remember that." he said, pulling out the items he was looking for.
Schuldig grinned broadly. Obviously either his headaches were gone for the moment or he was merely trying to get what Adrian had said out of his mind by preoccupying himself with something else.
The American washed his hand off under warm tap water and dried it on the towel on the sink. He rubbed antiseptic on it and he sighed. "Now for the hard part."
Schuldig picked up the gauze. "Let me see your hand."
Brad held out the appendage for inspection.
The golden-eyed teen wrapped the gauze around the elder boy's hand as carefully as he could.
"Danke." Brad said quietly.
Schuldig nodded with a smile, then leaned back against the wall. "I can't get what he said out of my mind," he muttered, more to himself than to Brad.
Brad turned to face the mirror and lifted his shirt part way to inspect the bandages there. He frowned. "What did he say to you?" he asked.
Schuldig shivered slightly. "He said that he saw our deaths, and that I'd...."
He really didn't want to change those bandages. He smoothed out his shirt and leaned against the sink. "You'd kill me."
"Ja," came the barely audible whisper.
Brad ran a hand through his hair. If that man came back he would throw *him* through the window. "You said you wouldn't. I believe you." Brad said gently.
"Why would he say that, Brad?" Somehow he looked like a little child as he looked up at his friend, golden eyes slightly frightened of the unknown future.
He couldn't answer him. Brad reached out and enfolded the German in a tight embrace. /I don't know. But I don't believe it. Not for a second./
Schuldig returned the embrace. /Danke./
Brad could find nothing to say, so he just smiled against the blonde- green hair. He didn't know what he did to deserve a friendship in Schuldig, maybe he didn't. But now that he had it, he wouldn't let anything take it away.
Schuldig sighed as he slipped down against the wall. "He showed me images," he whispered, "of what he said would happen."
Crawford frowned. He was wishing he could see the distant future at that moment. He sat down next to Schuldig. "What did he show you?"
Schuldig touched his mind and the images surfaced again. After a moment he had to grasp his friend's shoulder in order to keep the link.
Crawford's face remained neutral. He could see Schuldig walking up to him. They were older, by at least six years. The telepath was holding a gun, and Crawford wasn't moving away. Finally the gun was pressed against his chest. Brad flinched as it went off, and the images faded away.
Schuldig dropped his hand away from the American's shoulder and looked away.
Brad licked his lips and breathed evenly. "He didn't show you what happened after that?" he finally asked.
Schuldig shook his head no. "Julia stopped him."
"He made it up." Brad said softly, almost to himself.
"How could he get images that vivid?"
"It can be done."
Schuldig smiled and laid his head back against the wall.
Brad pulled on the end of the bandage around his hand absently, lost in thought.
"Penny for your thoughts, isn't that the American saying?" Schuldig asked as he looked at him. At the moment he didn't feel like finding out Brad had his shields back up in a painful way.
"Just wondering, that's all." Brad responded. "And I don't have my shields up."
"You told me not to intrude."
"Thank you for respecting that."
Schuldig smiled, but it soon faded as his head began to ache again. "How long am I suppose to wait between Tylenol?" he asked quietly.
"Tylenol, four hours, aleve twelve." Brad replied. He couldn't see that far. He just couldn't push it out that far.
"What can't you push?" the telepath asked.
"I can't see that far." He bit his lip. "He's stronger than I am."
"What are you trying to see? What Adrian saw?"
Brad's silence was the only affirmation.
"What happens when you push yourself to see farther?"
"I go catatonic. I lose touch with the real world and get totally sucked into my own mind. If I go too far, I don't come back."
"I guess it's kind of like a telepath getting stuck in someone's mind, ne?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"That happened to me once," Schuldig mumbled. The voices were picking up far too fast. "Geheim sucked me in faster than I could pull way...."
"He got less than he deserved." Brad muttered.
Schuldig shrugged. "Tylenol was in the kitchen, right?" he asked. Four hours, an hour.... whatever....
"Schuldig..."
"Hmm?" the teen asked as he stood to head for the kitchen.
"You overdose on those and I'll kill you."
The German shrugged. "You kill me, the headaches kill me, what does it matter?"
Brad silenced his retort in his throat. He re-inspected the bandages around his waist as Schuldig left.
The telepath pulled the bottle of pills from the drawer and a glass from the shelf. He swallowed several pills, falling back into a chair.
Brad pulled off his bandages and cringed as it pulled on the dried blood. He grit his teeth and ripped it all the way off. "Kuso." he muttered.
/You all right in there?/ Schuldig's voice entered his head.
/Just peachy./
/Okay, if that's the case...../
Brad watched a thin line of red trickle down his side, stopping it with gauze before it hit his pants. /Yeah. I'm great./
/Honestly, Braddy./
/Honesty is best in doses. What I'm being now is polite./
Schuldig laughed. /You don't always have to be polite, ya know. If it hurts you can say so./
/IT HURTS!/ Brad exclaimed. /There./
Schuldig cringed. /Yeah.... there.... Ouch..../
/Take another Tylenol./ Brad retorted.
/I don't think there are any more left,/ Schuldig replied with a smirk. /And just to let you know it was NOT full to begin with..../
/Well that's good to know. I'll know what to tell them when they're pumping your stomach at the emergency room./
/You're encouraging, you know that? Don't think I haven't had an overdose. It's not pleasant./
Brad didn't dignify that with a response. His wound was clean now, and he began wrapping it.
Schuldig walked into the living room and curled up on the couch. /I don't think the pills even work. It's more of just doing something that's supposed to help..../
Brad eyed himself in the mirror. He knew what they would become. Cold heartless killers with blood money as their reason to live. "Welcome to the real world." he whispered.
He walked into the living room to find Schuldig curled up on the couch, pain written across his face.
"What am I going to do with you, tamadachi?" he sighed.
/Sorry,/ came the weak reply.
Brad was tired. He lay on the floor next to the couch and stared at the ceiling. He knew he wouldn't be able to shield them both for much longer, but for now it was okay. He began building shields around Schuldig, layer by layer.
/Have you ever just wanted it all to be over, Brad?/ the telepath asked quietly.
/Yes./
/I'm just so tired of it all./ the teen's thoughts were harsh, not towards his friend, but to everything else.
/I know. It'll change. Things are always changing. We made it out of Rosenkreuz, ne?/
/Into a place where someone hates us even more. Or at least thinks I'm a worthless junkie from the streets./
/One person versus a whole school. I think this wins out, tamadachi./
"I think I took a few too many pills," Schuldig whispered.
"You should know better." Brad said.
"I should," the teen whispered, "but I don't."
"Your life motto, I think."
Schuldig laughed, grimaced as he was harshly reminded his headache had NOT faded along with the overdose of the pills, and then closed his eyes.
"Sleep it off. I don't think taking you to a hospital is necessary at this point." Brad said quietly.
There was no response as the young German had seemingly taken his advise all ready and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
Brad stared at the ceiling. They would have to be all in one piece by tomorrow or they would never pull off the interview with Takatori.
Author's notes: WUHA! EUREKA! And other various expressions of finding things! We have found the missing chat (Well, Chase found it while I bit my fingernails to shreds.) My apologies for the lack of updates, I started school at the beginning of August, and started my first job as well. @_@ Whoo... yeah... ^^ Enjoy! We're almost to the end!
At Julia's warning, Adrian backed off. He stared at Schuldig. "Remember." he murmured before disappearing down the hall.
Julia let out a vivid curse in German.
Schuldig shook in anger as he watched the man retreat. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked back to see Brad Crawford.
Julia inhaled a deep breath. "Egotistical jerk." she muttered. She moved her gaze to the two young men next to her.
"Do you think that was the truth, Julia?" Schuldig asked quietly.
Julia didn't answer for a long moment. "I don't know, Schuldig. I'm not a precog. I can't answer that."
Schuldig turned his eyes back to Brad, and then closed them. "I'd never hurt you, you know that. I'd die before hurting you."
Brad squeezed the shoulder he was holding. "I know." he whispered.
"How do you work with him?" Schuldig asked, anger still lingering on the edge of his voice.
"He's not like that most of the time. I don't know what's wrong with him. I'm sorry." Julia said.
"I guess I just set wrong with some people."
"Stay here. Order out pizza or something. Get your hand bandaged, Brad. I have to go after him." Julia said distantly.
The two young men watched her as she disappeared after him. To where, they did not know.
"Do you inspire the same kind of love/hate relationship in everyone you meet?" Brad asked dryly, leading them back into the apartment.
"I don't try," the German responded.
Brad shut the door behind them and headed towards the bathroom in the back. "I hate glass," he mumbled.
/Then don't hit it,/ came the reply echoing in his mind.
/Really./ Brad thought, switching on the light in the bathroom. He dug around in the cabinets for some antiseptic and gauze. He'd have to change the bandage around his waist as well.
"Really," Schuldig said from behind him.
Brad jumped at the sound and glared lightly at him. "I'll remember that." he said, pulling out the items he was looking for.
Schuldig grinned broadly. Obviously either his headaches were gone for the moment or he was merely trying to get what Adrian had said out of his mind by preoccupying himself with something else.
The American washed his hand off under warm tap water and dried it on the towel on the sink. He rubbed antiseptic on it and he sighed. "Now for the hard part."
Schuldig picked up the gauze. "Let me see your hand."
Brad held out the appendage for inspection.
The golden-eyed teen wrapped the gauze around the elder boy's hand as carefully as he could.
"Danke." Brad said quietly.
Schuldig nodded with a smile, then leaned back against the wall. "I can't get what he said out of my mind," he muttered, more to himself than to Brad.
Brad turned to face the mirror and lifted his shirt part way to inspect the bandages there. He frowned. "What did he say to you?" he asked.
Schuldig shivered slightly. "He said that he saw our deaths, and that I'd...."
He really didn't want to change those bandages. He smoothed out his shirt and leaned against the sink. "You'd kill me."
"Ja," came the barely audible whisper.
Brad ran a hand through his hair. If that man came back he would throw *him* through the window. "You said you wouldn't. I believe you." Brad said gently.
"Why would he say that, Brad?" Somehow he looked like a little child as he looked up at his friend, golden eyes slightly frightened of the unknown future.
He couldn't answer him. Brad reached out and enfolded the German in a tight embrace. /I don't know. But I don't believe it. Not for a second./
Schuldig returned the embrace. /Danke./
Brad could find nothing to say, so he just smiled against the blonde- green hair. He didn't know what he did to deserve a friendship in Schuldig, maybe he didn't. But now that he had it, he wouldn't let anything take it away.
Schuldig sighed as he slipped down against the wall. "He showed me images," he whispered, "of what he said would happen."
Crawford frowned. He was wishing he could see the distant future at that moment. He sat down next to Schuldig. "What did he show you?"
Schuldig touched his mind and the images surfaced again. After a moment he had to grasp his friend's shoulder in order to keep the link.
Crawford's face remained neutral. He could see Schuldig walking up to him. They were older, by at least six years. The telepath was holding a gun, and Crawford wasn't moving away. Finally the gun was pressed against his chest. Brad flinched as it went off, and the images faded away.
Schuldig dropped his hand away from the American's shoulder and looked away.
Brad licked his lips and breathed evenly. "He didn't show you what happened after that?" he finally asked.
Schuldig shook his head no. "Julia stopped him."
"He made it up." Brad said softly, almost to himself.
"How could he get images that vivid?"
"It can be done."
Schuldig smiled and laid his head back against the wall.
Brad pulled on the end of the bandage around his hand absently, lost in thought.
"Penny for your thoughts, isn't that the American saying?" Schuldig asked as he looked at him. At the moment he didn't feel like finding out Brad had his shields back up in a painful way.
"Just wondering, that's all." Brad responded. "And I don't have my shields up."
"You told me not to intrude."
"Thank you for respecting that."
Schuldig smiled, but it soon faded as his head began to ache again. "How long am I suppose to wait between Tylenol?" he asked quietly.
"Tylenol, four hours, aleve twelve." Brad replied. He couldn't see that far. He just couldn't push it out that far.
"What can't you push?" the telepath asked.
"I can't see that far." He bit his lip. "He's stronger than I am."
"What are you trying to see? What Adrian saw?"
Brad's silence was the only affirmation.
"What happens when you push yourself to see farther?"
"I go catatonic. I lose touch with the real world and get totally sucked into my own mind. If I go too far, I don't come back."
"I guess it's kind of like a telepath getting stuck in someone's mind, ne?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"That happened to me once," Schuldig mumbled. The voices were picking up far too fast. "Geheim sucked me in faster than I could pull way...."
"He got less than he deserved." Brad muttered.
Schuldig shrugged. "Tylenol was in the kitchen, right?" he asked. Four hours, an hour.... whatever....
"Schuldig..."
"Hmm?" the teen asked as he stood to head for the kitchen.
"You overdose on those and I'll kill you."
The German shrugged. "You kill me, the headaches kill me, what does it matter?"
Brad silenced his retort in his throat. He re-inspected the bandages around his waist as Schuldig left.
The telepath pulled the bottle of pills from the drawer and a glass from the shelf. He swallowed several pills, falling back into a chair.
Brad pulled off his bandages and cringed as it pulled on the dried blood. He grit his teeth and ripped it all the way off. "Kuso." he muttered.
/You all right in there?/ Schuldig's voice entered his head.
/Just peachy./
/Okay, if that's the case...../
Brad watched a thin line of red trickle down his side, stopping it with gauze before it hit his pants. /Yeah. I'm great./
/Honestly, Braddy./
/Honesty is best in doses. What I'm being now is polite./
Schuldig laughed. /You don't always have to be polite, ya know. If it hurts you can say so./
/IT HURTS!/ Brad exclaimed. /There./
Schuldig cringed. /Yeah.... there.... Ouch..../
/Take another Tylenol./ Brad retorted.
/I don't think there are any more left,/ Schuldig replied with a smirk. /And just to let you know it was NOT full to begin with..../
/Well that's good to know. I'll know what to tell them when they're pumping your stomach at the emergency room./
/You're encouraging, you know that? Don't think I haven't had an overdose. It's not pleasant./
Brad didn't dignify that with a response. His wound was clean now, and he began wrapping it.
Schuldig walked into the living room and curled up on the couch. /I don't think the pills even work. It's more of just doing something that's supposed to help..../
Brad eyed himself in the mirror. He knew what they would become. Cold heartless killers with blood money as their reason to live. "Welcome to the real world." he whispered.
He walked into the living room to find Schuldig curled up on the couch, pain written across his face.
"What am I going to do with you, tamadachi?" he sighed.
/Sorry,/ came the weak reply.
Brad was tired. He lay on the floor next to the couch and stared at the ceiling. He knew he wouldn't be able to shield them both for much longer, but for now it was okay. He began building shields around Schuldig, layer by layer.
/Have you ever just wanted it all to be over, Brad?/ the telepath asked quietly.
/Yes./
/I'm just so tired of it all./ the teen's thoughts were harsh, not towards his friend, but to everything else.
/I know. It'll change. Things are always changing. We made it out of Rosenkreuz, ne?/
/Into a place where someone hates us even more. Or at least thinks I'm a worthless junkie from the streets./
/One person versus a whole school. I think this wins out, tamadachi./
"I think I took a few too many pills," Schuldig whispered.
"You should know better." Brad said.
"I should," the teen whispered, "but I don't."
"Your life motto, I think."
Schuldig laughed, grimaced as he was harshly reminded his headache had NOT faded along with the overdose of the pills, and then closed his eyes.
"Sleep it off. I don't think taking you to a hospital is necessary at this point." Brad said quietly.
There was no response as the young German had seemingly taken his advise all ready and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
Brad stared at the ceiling. They would have to be all in one piece by tomorrow or they would never pull off the interview with Takatori.