Rain and Music Boxes | Chapter 6
A Weiß Kreuz Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko
Pairing: Crawford x Schuldich
Warnings: Mind control and violence.
This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe upon the rights of Takehito Koyasu, Project Weiß and its associates.
A/N: Sorry for putting this story on the backburner for so long. WK plot bunnies refused to work unless I threaten to make them into rabbit stew. Short chapter, I just can't bring myself to continue this chapter with Ken and Nagi. Next chapter will be about them though, they will be rather essential to the plot of this story.
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"Run! Chris, RUN!!" The American shouted, struggling against the strong grip the two hit men had on him. Chris stood transfixed in the headlights of that oncoming truck, not moving except for the slight quivering of his lower lip and the tears that were flowing freely down his cheeks.
"RUN!!!" Brad shouted again. It was a starless night, and in a night such as this the lights of impending doom seemed even brighter and more blinding than ever.
"I can't…" Chris sobbed, desperately struggling against the telekinetic binds that held him still.
It was until his eyesight began to blur when Crawford realized that he too was crying. Hope was leaving. Was this the end of him, the end of them?
No, he refused to let it end this way. He had spent enough years living under the control of the Estet Magi; it was time he did something for himself.
With all his strength, he broke away from the hold and ran towards the road where Chris was.
"I love you," he whispered, and then pushed the younger boy away to safety. Or at least, safe from death. Hope might be gone, but love would live on.
The truck came.
"Brad, wake up." He felt a light slap on his face and a gentle voice speaking against his ear, trying to calm him down while he shook off the remnants of his nightmare. It was not a nightmare, his mind happily pointed out. It was a flashback.
Long arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Warmth spread itself around him, enveloping him in its security blanket.
Brad Crawford opened his eyes in puzzlement, finding a certain orange-haired German in his arms. Schuldich smiled and pressed his lips softly against the bridge of Crawford's nose.
"Good morning."
The rest of the world was in a blur, thanks to his myopia. But for the first time, he did not feel the impulse to reach for his glasses immediately. As a matter of fact, he was enjoying the clear close distance view of his newfound lover.
Or was it 'long lost'?
"What time is it now?" The German looked up at the alarm clock placed on the bedside table and frowned. "Nine in the morning."
The American nodded slightly and circled his arm around Schuldich's waist, pulling the telepath closer to him. There was still a tingling of fear within him. What exactly had happened in that dream? It was he yet it was not. What was going on?
Finally deciding to leave such deep thinking processes to the later part of the day, Crawford buried his nose into Schuldich's sweet smelling hair and sighed.
"Go back to sleep. We don't have to wake until later."
***
The Night BeforeNagi just called and said he would not be home that night. None of them asked why. They were teammates, but that did not automatically make Crawford his keeper. If Prodigy wanted to stay out for the night, who were they to question his actions? Besides, the American had other things on his mind that night.
Crawford glanced over to the young man sitting on the couch, surfing channels restlessly with enough impatience to rival any child's. Not that he could be blamed. Much had happened that afternoon, beginning with his sudden breakdown in Schuldich's arms. But what had changed between them?
Chris was confused. He could no longer tell how much of the boy he knew had remained in the ruthless leader of Schwarz. But he had the inkling that something was going to change between them. He was just not sure how ready he was to let that happen. He did not want anything to change between them, but on the other hand, he did not want things to remain the same either.
"Argh, I'm so confused…" Chris mumbled to himself.
"Schuldich," Crawford started, ignoring the German's obvious flinch at the use of his alias. "Come into my room, we need to talk."
Chris snapped around, staring at he American with bewildered eyes. Talk? He chokingly nodded and turned the television off. Tossing the remote back onto the leather couch, he followed Crawford into his room.
"What do you want to talk about?" Chris looked around the room, searching out for somewhere that he could sit on. Given that a certain American already occupied the only chair in the room, he had no choice but to happily drop him on the bed.
Ouch, how could Brad even manage to sleep on a mattress as tough as that?
Crawford studied the German telepath carefully. He was sure long ago he knew this man, loved him even. But the memories and emotions were so vague that it seemed more like it had happened in another lifetime.
Perhaps he had. A life that he had before he sold his soul to Estet.
"Us, to begin with."
Chris blinked, his hands unconsciously tightened around the sheets in anger and hurt.
"Was there even an 'us' in the first place? Last I checked with you, there wasn't."
Brad Crawford flinched. Bitter tears gathered at the edge of Chris' beautiful sapphire eyes. He had hurt him again. While the Schwarz leader had never cared much about the emotional welfare of his teammates before, Crawford suddenly realized that he could no longer look at Schuldich the same way again.
He was starting to remember. Even if his mind was not, his heart was beginning to recall the fond bittersweet memories of stolen moments with a flame haired child.
"I don't know. As far as I could remember, I first knew you when the Magi sent you into Schwarz. Or at least, that was my first memory of Mastermind."
"But I'm not Schuldich!" Chris protested.
"No, you are not. Schuldich is a cold-hearted killer who plays with his victims before ending their life with that smirk of his. Chris Heinrich is not. But still, you have recollections of Schuldich, don't you?"
"The Brad Crawford you know…I don't know if he exist anymore. But part of him is still in here." Crawford smiled sardonically, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart was supposed to be. Did he even have a heart in the first place?
He had mixed feelings towards what he was experiencing. Towards what he could remember and what he could not. Towards the fact that he was dealing with the past, not the future that he was familiar with.
Chris did not understand what the American was ranting about. He had no idea who Schuldich was or who he was supposed to be. Nothing except for the fact that everybody expected him to be the Mastermind of Schwarz. But Brad…
At least he remembered bits and pieces of their past. Hope flared in his heart. Hope that should have died long ago resurfaced once more in his thoughts. No, hope had never survived. Love did.
The younger man pushed himself off the bed and walked towards Crawford. Could he help him find the boy that he loved? The boy who had saved him from the cold of the hills and from the harsh words of his own mother?
He had to give it another try.
Chris placed a gentle hand on Crawford's cheek, meeting coffee-tinted eyes with his blue ones.
"Can I stay here tonight?" He asked softly, almost afraid that Crawford would say 'no' and pushed him out of the room, away from him. Everything had seemed so surreal that night. Chris only wished for it to be real. He needed to wake up knowing that it had not all been a crazy dream of his.
The American agreed.
***
+End of Chapter 6+
+Continue to Chapter 7+