Force of Habit: Chapter Eight

Warnings: Having spent much of the previous seven parts doing little more than setting up a multitude of different angsting angles for our main characters, I hope I'll be forgiven if I start exploiting them shamelessly now. I've been waiting to rub salt in the wounds for far too long and once it's out of my system plot progression can resume as normal. Any foreign languages used will be translated at the bottom. Oh yeah, and to avoid any of that 'can't place it and it's going to annoy me' sense of semi-recognition, the story that Gil-Martin refers to is Angela Carter's The Loves of Lady Purple.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The spring breeze was warm, but not overly so as it brushed through his hair and sent the orange strands snapping across his face. In an accustomed gesture, the German readjusted his bandana, fixing the majority of the troublesome bangs away from his eyes. The problem temporarily corrected, he turned back to his companion and smiled in the most charming manner he knew. "I've got to admit it, Schätzchen, this is one luscious dreamworld you're living in."  He glanced around again, taking in the scenery. "It's like something out of those fancy guidebooks you see on coffee tables. The sakura, the ornamental pond … hell you even got those bloody koi fish."

His companion remained silent, simply staring out across the pond's waters. Schuldig watched her for a moment before moving to sit down next to her. The grass was soft and springy, but not in the least bit damp as it no doubt would be in reality. Propping his elbows up, the telepath leaned back and looked up at the stationary figure. "At first when I found out who you were, I didn't believe it for an instant. You look nothing like him. But watching you be all still and silent, I'm beginning to detect some family traits."

There was the faintest flicker of movement, causing a wide smirk to break out on the European's face. "Ah, I get it. You're waiting for him to come and visit you, aren't you? And you're upset 'cause he hasn't shown up in so long." Making his voice soft and low, Mastermind rose up to lean closer to the girl. "What an awful brother he is to you, Aya. Leaving you trapped in here with your loneliness. You're not like him; you could never stand to be by yourself and now that's what you're forced to endure. Day after day of just waiting to hear a voice that isn't performing some medical checks or observing your condition, it must be terrible."

A tear slipped from her eye, caught almost at that very instant by the telepath's reflexes. "He's abandoned you, Aya," Schuldig whispered, using his close proximity to murmur the words a fraction of an inch away from the teenager's ear. "But I'm here, and I'm listening. I can hear you Aya, hear all those fears that you're longing to tell someone. You don't want to be silent and now you don't have to."

"Who…" Aya's voice was soft and hesitant from the long period of disuse. She blinked at the sound, as if shocked to hear herself speaking, but forced herself to continue. "Who are you?"

The German smiled at her, taking care to make his eyes seem warm and friendly. He sensed her hesitation, but also her desperate need for someone to talk to, someone to keep her company. For a moment, he wondered at giving her the name he was so used to hearing himself be called, but catching a few memories of German lessons in the girl's past, decided against it. "I suppose you can call me Sascha."

Aya smiled back. "That's really pretty," she commented. Pausing again the faintest frown crossed her face. "How is it you can be here and talk with me? I can normally only hear voices."

"Ah, my little Sleeping Beauty, I am a little different from other people," Schuldig pitched his voice low and leaned forwards, noting how Aya unconsciously mimicked his action to share in the confessional. "I can slip inside people's heads. That's how I'm here now."

Instead of the recoil he'd been expecting, Aya's eyes went as wide as saucers; mirroring the perfect 'o' her mouth had formed. "That's amazing," she breathed, unable to keep the awe from her voice. "Can you read my mind? What am I thinking right now?" Aya's face screwed up in concentration.

Schuldig chuckled to himself. "Not so loud, Schätzchen, you'll deafen me. And how dare you think this colour came out a bottle." He cocked his head as Aya opened her eyes again. "You're a strange one, Kleine, most people would be upset to realise I could intrude on their thoughts."

Aya smiled slightly and turned her gaze back to the scenery. "Anything's better than this. It's so quiet in here. I hate it." Her lower lip quivered for a moment and she ducked her head to hide the tears that were pricking at her eyes. "It wasn't so bad before, when Ran used to see me. He'd come nearly every day, but now it's been so long that I think he's given up on me. He doesn't want to waste anymore of his time talking to a sister who won't ever answer him back."

Schuldig placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "You've got me now and I promise, I won't give up on you." Moving his hand up to Aya's chin, he turned the girl's face to his. "Anytime you want to talk to me, you just have to think about me and I'll hear you."

Aya looked at him doubtfully. "Will you really?"

Another smile broke out on the German's face. "Ich verspreche, Schätzchen."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Good morning!"

Manx blinked in surprise at the cheerful welcome until her brain caught up with her hearing and revealed the figure standing half hidden behind the swarm of customers was not Fujimiya, but Tsukiyono. She made her way over to the teenager and smiled warmly back at him. "Good morning Omi. I thought Ran and Yohji were minding the shop today?"

The blond shrugged as he expertly wrapped a bouquet of lilies and passed them to a blushing customer. "Yohji's off sick today and Ran asked me to switch shifts so he could keep an eye on him." He paused and glanced up at the Kritiker agent. "Would you like me to get Ran for you?"

The redheaded woman had to resist the urge to ruffle the messy blond bangs as the youth blinked up at her with large, innocent eyes. Stamping firmly on her sudden influx of maternal instincts, Manx shook her head politely. "Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I am merely here to inform Ran that he will not be needed at the hospital for the next three days." A sour look flittered over the woman's face. "It appears that our smoke detectors are not in line with recent government specifications and the entire place is in chaos while the workman are getting them updated." Chaos that would not have ground so much of Kritiker's cover activities to a halt if Manx had been aware of the newly changed guidelines, a fact that was causing the agent more than a little stress. The smartly dressed, apologetic man who had shown up in her office this morning had very nearly had his head bitten off, before he'd been able to show the guidelines and appropriate forms. Manx had been lucky; he'd been able to recommend a firm that could replace the units immediately. And she was blaming Abyssinian for everything. That stubborn man and his equally stubborn refusal to just hand over Void was the sole reason she wasn't thinking as clearly as she needed to. "I trust extra shifts in the Koneko will cover any loss of wages." Oh yes, inflict the one thing that could hurt the man, monetary loss. Manx regretted that she wasn't able to tell Fujimiya personally, no doubt Omi would pass on the message, but in such a way that the implied rebuke would probably go unnoticed.

Omi's eyes had widened at the news. "I hadn't heard anything about that," he commented. "Will we have to change the ones for the Koneko as well?"

Manx shook her head. "Apparently it only applies to hospitals and other health-related public buildings." She glanced around at the growing crowds and smiled briefly at the boy. "It looks like I had better let you get back to your work."

Omi nodded. "Thank you for the message, Manx-san. I'll be sure to pass it on."

Manx turned to go, but suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Could you also let Kudoh know that he is expected for a check-up sometime within the next week? Preferably after the upheaval with the smoke detectors is sorted."

"Of course, Manx-san. Have a pleasant day!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are we the ones on clean-up duty," the teenaged girl whined petulantly as she surveyed the carnage with a screwed up nose. "This is Pan and Legion's mess, they should be the ones sorting it out."

"I feel it inadvisable to send Legion underground twice in such a short space of time, you know how the man can get," her elder companion remarked in his clipped accent. "And Pan has an important task to oversee at the moment, being the most inconspicuous of us all." Withdrawing a handkerchief from his suit pocket, the man placed it over his nose and bent to examine the bodies. "Most interesting."

"Well? Did they get Yue to use his powers or not? Come on, Odin," Mika begged. "There's a film I want to see and it starts soon." At the continued silence, the girl dug into her pocket and withdrew a packet of brightly coloured gummi-bears only to have them snatched away. "Hey!"

"These will come in very useful," Odin muttered. "Come on, we have to see inside the cell where they held Yue." They stepped outside into the corridor and Mika found herself halted by an outstretched arm. "But first, would you care to tell me what you notice about the sweets?"

Mika watched as the bag was shaken and then held in front of her face. "They're still there. I don't know, what am I supposed to see? They're just gummi-bears!"

Odin held up the bag to his own face and examined the contents through the clear plastic packaging. "The problem with Yue's ability is that it is very hard to actually pin down when the man is using it," the Englishman explained. "Its very nature causes it to be hidden, but there are tricks one can use. If I was to separate the contents of this bag by their colours and then shake them again, what would happen?"

Mika faked a large yawn. "Yeah, yeah, they'd mix up. Entropy. What's with the science lesson?"

"Follow me." Odin strode into the room where the blond had been held, Mika just a few steps behind him. The bag was thrust into her hands again. "Now shake them."

Rolling her eyes, Mika did as instructed and then felt her mouth drop open. "What the fuck…" The little confectionary bears had formed small groups of solid colour within the packet, not fully separated but close to it. The girl shook the bag again, but the result remained the same. "What is this?"

Odin was bent over the handcuffs, but glanced over at the girl and smiled. "Residue. And it would appear that Yue's ability is once again active, though not at its full power. Pan and Legion have succeeded in establishing that vital fact." With little more than a glance around the rest of the room, Odin made for the exit. "Come on, we need to set the timer."

Mika paused for a moment before tearing after the European. "Hey! You mean Pan and Legion weren't supposed to keep Yue? That they intended for him to escape? Why does no one tell me these things!"

"Presumably so there remains a chance that Schuldig and the rest of Schwarz remain in the dark about our intentions." Odin watched as the teenager blushed. "I take it they have no desire to give up on trying to reclaim their lost team-member?"

Mika shook her head. "Crawford's being the same stubborn arsehole as always. Even with Sascha's life on the line, that bastard's still only concerned about getting Void back." The young girl sighed and pulled at some strands that were covering her eyes. "Poor Sascha, it would kill him if he found out."

The man beside her blinked and paused for a moment. "Yes, well, regardless, he chose Schwarz and must live with the consequences. In any case, even if you were to offer him the chance to join us, I doubt he'd agree. For someone that presents himself as being without any virtues, that man has some ridiculously idealistic notions." Stopping in front of the device they'd set in upon their arrival, Odin quickly set the timer and then glanced at his companion. "The bomb goes off in five minutes, I trust you can get us somewhere far enough removed in that time?"

Mika snorted and withdrew a handful of sand from the opposite pocket to the one that had housed the confectionary. "In five minutes I can get us out of Tokyo completely. Now grab on."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Crawford would have thought the basic reasoning quite logical. When in the presence of someone who had the power to kill you at a moment's notice, it was better for your own personal safety to at least attempt to be gracious and polite. But a telepath in a strop is a force to be reckoned with and Schuldig showed no signs of even rising to the most basic civilities. The Oracle glared at the sullen redhead, who was sat next to an unusually calm and quiet Farfarello and silently prayed that the elders were in a good mood.

"Was für ein Gesicht!" Melmoth remarked to his companions as the three elders took their seats at the opposite end of the table. For some reason, the three elders seemed more amused than annoyed by Schuldig's glowering expression. Crawford wondered briefly as to the reason why, but quickly averted that train of thought. Whatever it was would no doubt be something he was better off not knowing.

"Since there is no reason to delay this meeting any longer, we may as well begin," The head of Esset's Delphic Unit announced as he adjusted the dark glasses that hid his ruined eyes. "You managed to lose a very valuable tool of Esset's and the logical point at which to start this investigation is undoubtedly why an injured member of your team was left where he could be captured by an enemy faction."

Schuldig shrugged, speaking before Crawford had the chance to answer. "We thought he was dead. It's not like you can tell the difference with the guy."

Melmoth looked at the redhead sourly. "One would think an assassin would be able to recognise the difference between living and dead."

"And one would think that if it was so easy, the all-powerful elders might have noticed the mistake before we did," the German telepath shot back. A second later he went flying out of his seat to impact against the wall as Melmoth flicked a hand in his direction.

"We would have expected more discipline from you, Crawford," Gil-Martin commented idly as he watched the now unconscious redhead slump to the floor. "Yet it appears you have been somewhat lax in keeping the more rebellious elements in line."

Crawford also glanced over at Schuldig and narrowed his eyes. "This is a recent thing, I assure you. I can only guess that it's in some way related to the Void situation. Perhaps he feels bitter that he was unable to realise the mistake sooner, what with being so well acquainted with Void's mental patterns."

"Perhaps," the head telepath agreed. "In any case, perhaps we can now get down to a proper discussion. Melmoth? If you would be so kind as to remove the disturbance." He watched for a moment as Schuldig was dragged from the room before turning back to face the three remaining Schwarz. "As you are no doubt aware, the members of Hunt will almost certainly be looking to take advantage of our lapse if they have not already."

"According to Hunt, they already have Void," Crawford supplied without emotion. "Although, whether they'll succeed in keeping hold of him is highly doubtful."

Janus nodded in agreement, that strange smile lingering on his lips once again. "Should events continue in their present course, it would appear that the unit to keep close observation on is this unknown group of young men. They appear to have the strongest hold on Void for now and so it follows that if we remove this group from the equation, Void will be forced to choose between Hunt or Schwarz."

"That's reassuring," Crawford muttered dryly. "What makes you so sure that he'll willingly return?"

"After eleven years effectively without a mind of his own, the only thing that Void truly has are his instincts. He is a creature of habit and so will return to what is familiar," Gil-Martin announced, brushing a speck of dirt from his otherwise immaculate suit. "As the story goes, even when the puppet's strings are cut, it will still perform the only actions it knows. He won't have a choice in the matter."

The Oracle watched the three elders and the small knowing smiles that flickered between them and felt his features draw into a small frown. There was something being withheld from him, some event or consequence that he hadn't seen and was deliberately being kept unaware of. And he couldn't for the life of him work out what it was.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ran couldn't believe he was doing this. Some small part of his brain that was still rational was screaming protests in an attempt to get him to see reason and give up on this idea. It went against all his training. It was irresponsible and foolhardy. There was no logic to it. Ran closed his eyes and drew his breath in slowly. He reopened his eyes as he exhaled and felt his gaze harden in determination. For some reason he didn't want to name, none of what his mind was telling him seemed important. The only fact he could concentrate on was that since their night out, the blond hadn't left his room for two whole days.

"Yohji…" When both his first and second attempts at knocking went answered, Ran cautiously tried the door. It was unlocked and swung open without any projectile objects impacting on the wood. Ran took it as a good sign. He stepped inside and firmly closed the door behind him. "I think we need to talk."

"What you mean to say is that you've spent the last two days in deep thought and think you've now found a satisfactory way to talk yourself out of the shit you've gotten into," Yohji commented in an acidic tone. The blond was sat by the window and from the large number of cigarette butts, had clearly been there for some time. "What crap are you going to try and feed me this time?"

Ran stepped nearer, trying to keep his temper under control. It would do him absolutely no good to get angry now. "What happened that night, Yohji? Why has it affected you like this?" There was a note that sounded suspiciously like pleading in his voice and Ran winced internally. Forcing his voice into a more neutral tone, the redhead continued. "I'd like to know what I've done to deserve this treatment."

A bitter laugh answered him. "Oh that's fucking rich coming from you. I've seen the files you've got stored away on that computer, Fujimiya. The ones that list all the stuff you did to screw with my head and take away my memories." When the redhead made no response, Yohji stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and walked over to where the smaller man stood. "Tell me, Fujimiya. Just what were strands of my hair doing in your coat pocket if we'd never met until I woke up in that hospital bed?"

At this the amethyst eyes widened in surprise. "Hair? But I don't…" Ran paused as the memories of his fight with Void played back in his head. The strands of blond hair that had fallen onto his coat as he severed the makeshift rope that had been choking him. "They must have fallen into the pockets when I fell," he muttered to himself. When he looked up at the blond again, his expression was curiously remote. "And just what prompted this search? Did your memories return?"

"You really don't remember much of our night out at all, do you?" Yohji commented. "We got drugged and I woke up to find myself being greeted by a couple of people who claimed to be past acquaintances of mine. Foreigners, looked like Europeans, this ring any bells?"

"Did they tell you who they were?"

"They had some whacked out code names, but they did tell me who I was. Apparently, my real name is Yue. Feel like telling me why I woke up thinking otherwise? What else did you brainwash into me?"

Ran shifted his weight, to take another step closer to the distressed blond, but something made him hesitate. "I… the brainwashing didn't work."

The redhead found himself seized firmly by Yohji as the blond jerked his head to face furious emerald eyes. Ran tried to look away from the hurt he clearly saw within them, but Yohji refused to loosen his grip. "So you did brainwash me? And then you befriend me to keep a close eye on your little project? You sick fuck."

"No!" Ran pulled himself away from Yohji's grip, his temper finally beginning to crack under the weight of all the accusations being thrown at him. "That's what my instructions were, but I didn't go through with it. All they wanted was some mindless puppet, someone who would do whatever they said. Do you honestly think I would willingly put someone else in that situation?"

Yohji tilted his head to the side, studying Ran intently through narrowed eyes. "I guess that means Manx is the one behind this. Figured as much. And since it was her idea for me to stay here, that means Ken and Omi have to be in on it as well. Though not to the level you are, unless they're considerably better actors than you." Yohji paused for a moment and let out a short burst of humourless laughter. "Though once you got into your stride, you were more than convincing."

Ran must have made some small noise of protest that he was unaware of, for Yohji's face abruptly hardened again. "So, talk. And this better be good, Fujimiya."

Not sure where to begin, Ran took the opportunity to sit down on the bed and collect his thoughts. "If you've remembered anything, you can't let them know. They've been looking for a reason to separate you from me for a while now and something like this …" Ran sighed and glanced up at the blond. "You don't want them to find out, they'll simply brainwash you like you should have been the first time. Either that or you'll be locked away in some top-secret laboratory and experimented on."

Yohji nodded absently, unconsciously going along with the redhead's story. "But why brainwash me at all? What possible use could it serve?"

Ran swallowed and dropped his gaze to the floor, unsure of how much to tell the blond. He knew some sort of explanation was essential if Ran was to have any chance of winning back Yohji's trust, but how could he possibly tell the man that he used to be a psychotic killing-machine? "You … uh, you used to belong to a rival group to the one that I work for. Several other agents had run into you in the course of assignments, but for various reasons no real data was able to be assembled. The group you belonged to seemed to have several strange capabilities that my superiors wanted to study. When you were finally captured, they felt a docile persona would be advantageous for any extended study of you. I was the one ordered to input the new personality, but … I don't really know why I didn't follow orders. I always have before.

"Actually that's not true," the redhead corrected. "I didn't like the idea of the people that I work for having that amount of control over anyone, even someone who was technically my enemy. I don't really remember what I put into your head other than your name, but when you woke up you weren't what I was expecting. I couldn't work out how you were so normal and outgoing, it's not something I have much experience with myself, so I'm hardly the ideal person to program it into someone else."

"Okay," Yohji said after a moment's thought. "Tell me about this group I used to belong to. Who are they? How can I get in contact with them?"

Ran jumped up from the bed in alarm, grabbing the blond by the arms. "No! They'll have exactly the same intent for you as my group. They were the ones who brainwashed you for the first time."

Yohji felt himself frown as he looked into the wide violet eyes. "What?"

"Like I said, I couldn't work out how you were so normal after I effectively wiped out all your knowledge of this group. But we recently found out from those tests you took at the hospital that this isn't the first time your mind has been tampered with. You were brainwashed when I was assigned to you. All I did was wipe away the previous programming, though I didn't know that's what I was doing at the time." Letting go of his grip on the taller man, Ran slowly reached a hand up to brush the blond's cheek. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes at the sensation of Yohji's smooth skin beneath his fingers, but didn't want to look away from Yohji. He had to know if he was getting through to the man. Ran was no good at expressing his own emotions, and had no idea how to comfort the blond. "This is you, Yohji. The real you. Whatever you were before doesn't matter, because it wasn't by your choice."

Yohji placed his own hand on Ran's and gently drew the redhead's hand away from his face. "But how can I believe what you tell me when I already know you've lied to me in the past? How can I know this isn't just the new amended version of events that you're telling me? And why are you doing this anyway?"

Ran regarded him for a moment, then hesitantly murmured. "If my words can't convince you, then …" Leaning forwards, the redhead sealed the gap between him and the blond and brushed his lips against the taller man's. He had no idea of what else he could say to the man to let him know his intentions, but maybe actions could make up for the deficit. And besides anything else, this was the one thing he'd wanted to do since walking into this damn room in the first place.

The softness of the kiss and the underlying shyness behind it caught Yohji by surprise and it was a moment before he could respond.  Almost without thinking, he found himself answering the pressure against his lips and teasing open the redhead's mouth with his tongue. Ran's response was to gently press closer to the blond, his actions a million miles away from the confident aggression he'd shown in the club.

Yohji couldn't care less about that at the moment. The only information his brain was currently supplying was that he, Kudoh Yohji, was kissing Fujimiya Ran and the sensation was utter fucking bliss. Bringing his hands up, Yohji threaded his fingers through the soft strands of blood red hair and used his grip to angle Ran's face so that he could properly taste the pale skin of his graceful neck.

As Yohji traced his tongue along the veins that were just visible beneath the porcelain column, Ran gasped and arched his back at the sensations. A low moan escaped his lips and trembling fingers began to frantically tug at the buttons on the blond's shirt. There was a growing tension inside him, an overwhelming need to just touch the blond. After what seemed like an eternity, he managed to get the shirt open and pulled it roughly away from the blond before tracing his fingers lightly over the smooth expanse of toned muscle.

Yohji lifted his head away from Ran's neck, causing a small murmur of disappointment from the redhead, before his complaints were silenced by another passionate kiss. One of Ran's trailing hands grazed across a nipple and the blond felt himself shiver at the sudden rush of sensations that touch caused. If he didn't know better, Yohji would have sworn he felt the redhead's lips curve into a smile as the hands returned to trail over the hardening buds and cause the tension the blond was feeling deep inside gut to increase several fold.

Now determined more than ever to make the redhead moan and writhe in much the manner Yohji himself wanted to right now, the blond growled in his throat and pushed the uncomplaining man onto the bed. Placing his knees to either side of those hips, Yohji turned his attention back to the man's neck as his hands reached up underneath the shirt that was blocking his view of the pale skin beneath him. Running his hands over the soft skin, Yohji abruptly pulled away as his questing fingers encountered mounds of ridged flesh.

"Yohji?" Ran sounded as though he was having trouble getting his breathing back to normal and the blond glanced over to see the man's flushed face as he propped himself up on his elbows. Ran's eyes were a mixture of lust and confusion and the expression on the man's face was asking for an explanation into the sudden halt.

Yohji quirked one corner of his mouth up in a twisted smile as he watched the other man; "I want you to tell me one thing, and answer me honestly. Those scars you have, the bullet wound and the one right by it, did I give you those scars?" When the redhead didn't answer immediately, Yohji snorted and rose off the bed. "I knew it. And now you're trying to housetrain me like some fucking pet. If I did that to you once, what's to say I won't do it again? Or worse? How many times, you can't trust me, Ran."

"I think that's my decision to make, not yours."

Yohji glanced down at the redhead in surprise and found himself unable to look away from the serious expression Ran had on his face. Seeing he had the blond's attention, the redhead shifted off the bed himself, pulling his clothes back into a semblance of order. "At the end of the day, I'm the one to decide if I trust you or not. And I've made my decision. I trust you."

Yohji frowned. "But … you can't trust me." His voice sounded suspiciously close to cracking so the blond refrained from adding to that comment.

Ran simply looked at him and nodded slightly. "That's your decision to make. But you're not changing mine." He made as if to say something more but caught himself and frowned slightly. Turning to leave, he glanced back across his shoulder at the taller man who hadn't moved. "But please remember that Manx can't find out that you know about your previous identity. Don't give her any reason to suspect you. I can't protect you from her." With that said, the man left the blond to his thoughts and exited the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"We are all candy, covered on the outside

Peel away the shell and we're rotten on the inside"

From his position in the driver's seat of the car, Crawford glared at the German in annoyance and wondered if the elders had perhaps hit the redhead's head a touch too hard. "You've certainly cheered up."

The younger man paused in his singing to throw a trademark smirk in the American's direction. "You noticed. Why, Bradley, I never knew you cared." He batted his eyes in a mock alluring manner and when that failed to achieve any reaction other than the brunette's normal irritated snort, sighed. "If I ever get as anal and uptight as you, I hope someone fucking shoots me and ends my misery. Oh wait, that option's already covered." Seemingly unconcerned with his impending death, the European stretched and glanced out the window. "Where exactly are you dragging me at this time of night anyway?"

Indicating left, Crawford pulled the car into a recently vacated space and turned off the engine. "To meet someone who can hopefully tell us just what Void's current keepers are up to. I thought it only fair to take you along as were you doing your job properly, this would not be necessary."

Schuldig pulled a face and climbed out the car. "You told me to befriend the little precious. That's what I'm doing. If you wanted me to search through the mind of every single boring fuck who works in that hospital as well you should have said something." He leaned on the car roof and watched the American as he also climbed out of the vehicle and locked it. "Haven't you seen anything useful about that yet?"

Trying to ignore the slight pressure behind the temples that the redhead always seemed to cause when he spent too much time in his company, Crawford adjusted his glasses and waited for the other man to join him on the pavement. "According to Janus, the Delphic Unit has seen no more than I have about the Void situation. All he was able to tell me was we have less than two months to get the man back."

"It must have just killed the bastard to admit that," Schuldig commented as the pair made their way towards the bright neon of the entertainment district. "The thought of him willingly sharing information that will save my life makes you wonder what's in it for him. Ringside seats for if we fail, I guess."

Crawford frowned but didn't answer as the mild headache suddenly flared into full-blazing agony. He dimly heard the German mutter something as the lights of downtown Tokyo were abruptly washed out by a sea of white. The brightness almost blinded the American, but as his sight adjusted, he realised he was seeing the inside of a cell. The stark white of all the surfaces combined to reflect the artificial lighting in an effect obviously meant to dazzle and subdue the occupant who was sat in the corner. Even though the head was bowed so that the features were hidden from Crawford, he knew instantly who is was. There was only one person with hair in that vivid shade of orange.

The image swam and was replaced by a quick succession of faces and locations that flashed by almost too quickly to properly identify. Crawford was able to discern the face of the comatose girl in the hospital, now awake and alert as she crouched poised on a rooftop dressed in black, a dart held ready to throw in her hand at an unknown target below. He also recognised the distinctive visage of her brother, bloodied and contorted in a grimace. He saw the familiar buildings of Rosenkreuz, swathed in a thick mist that seemed to contain almost tangible shapes and five figures draped in black that ran through it. Then the images sped up again and the Oracle felt himself begin to collapse.

"Scheisse! Vorsicht! Crawford!" A pair of arms grabbed the pre-cog and hauled him backwards. The suddenness of the gesture caught the American by surprise and he lost his balance, falling heavily onto the man behind him.

"Ach, du bist schwer," Schuldig groaned as Crawford's vision refocused on the present. He glanced at the man beneath him, who abruptly ceased complaining in his loud voice and narrowed green eyes at the American in confusion. "Crawford, what is it?"

The vision's images still too close to his current thoughts, the American was unable to respond for an instant, his brain occupied in making sense of what he had seen. One part had been all too clear. And as he watched the redhead blink at him in confusion with something suspiciously close to concern in those eyes, Crawford wondered just how he was supposed to inform the man of his fate. He settled on focusing on the events immediately at hand. "What are you doing? Move."

The German dropped his head back to the pavement and rolled his eyes as the arms that still encircled Crawford dropped away. "Your welcome, your royal tight-arse. Next time you want to go walking into the middle of traffic, I'll just let you. It'll be a damn sight more fun than getting crushed by you. As for moving, just who is lying on top of who here?" The man pushed at Crawford. "Move your own damn self off me and let me get up. I'm not a bloody telekinetic, you know."

Mechanically, Crawford got to his feet and straightened his suit, the emotionless mask now firmly back in place. As they set off again, he could feel the other man's gaze on him, just as he could detect the probing as the telepath tried vainly to read his mind, but he ignored it. He had a suspicion he now knew the reason behind the elder's smirks and amusement when they mentioned the German.

It was something that he heard people mutter about, but had never really paid that much attention to in Rosenkreuz. After all, a punishment given to rebellious telepaths was not something that concerned a pre-cog who saw no point in defying those much more powerful than himself. But rumours had a tendency to spread, especially amongst the younger students and from the horror stories and gossip Crawford had been able to discern just how Gil-Martin kept the other telepaths in line.

The logic behind it was simple enough. The telepath in question was sedated with a carefully measured amount of drugs that would disable shielding, but leave the mind virtually fully conscious yet unable to respond. Having effectively locked the telepath into a state where they could only hear voices without any way of blocking the noise out, the telepath was then placed in an asylum. Forced to listen to the wail of so many broken minds, the telepath would also succumb to madness, but only after a considerable period of time had elapsed. The telepath would then either be left to remain in the madhouse indefinitely, or removed and killed.

To find out that the elders intended this for Schuldig was not overly surprising, in fact Crawford wondered why it had never occurred to him before. The fact that disturbed Crawford was the lack of any way of saving his colleague other than to let him get shot by Void. Quickening his pace, the American began to leave the German behind. This future was not acceptable. He intended for Schwarz to remain as it was and he was damn well going to think of a way to let it happen.

TBC

Incredibly short burst of seemingly random lyrics: Lollyrot by Jack off Jill. I needed something for the guy to sing and it was what was on winamp at that moment in time.

Translations:

Schatz: endearment, literally meaning precious or treasure. The –chen suffix is used in much the same manner as the Japanese –chan, in this case meaning "little treasure/darling".

Versprechen: to promise

Scheisse: Shit. You should all know this one by now.

Vorsicht: Watch out!

Du bist schwer: You're heavy.