Title: Trading Pleasure for Pain
Disclaimer: Sadly we don't own Weiss..or...Schwarz....well, only in my dreams. ^^
Rating: PG-13, rating may change
Summary: Leading a life filled with corruption and blood lust; the men of Schwartz each hold their own secrets about their history, but most mysterious of all is our dear German redhead, Schuldig..how is that the 'guilty' one came to be? Dare you read and find out?
Otsune & Ari Says: Forgive us; we are, but humble underlings trying to appease the many Weiss fans of the world! We talk full responsibility for all screw-ups in this story and will not be offended if we are stoned together for the mis-telling of facts. However, before you cast your stones, be aware we are not native English speakers and that this is fiction.sometimes things don't always go as according to the Weiss world. So please be kind if possible! Thank you! ^-^
NOTE: Now, the first part of this is just a Schuldig insight; a random rambling if you will. I suppose you can skip right over it if you like, but it';s there for your entertainment if you wish to read it. Oh and this was also once called, 'Commemoration of The Past', but this is the spiffier, updated version.
*~*
My name is Schuldig and I admit with absolute grace and dignity, that I am a complete and utter chauvinistic bastard. That's right; you read that correctly, if you have any doubt-- reread it, dumb ass. Perhaps you're pondering now why I would say such a horrible thing about my own being, but it's really quite simple: because it's nothing, but the complete and honest truth. I've always believed that one should be completely honest with themselves, no matter how brutal the truth may be. It's only fair to everyone that you admit your faults. Now, you may not always do something about them, but as long as you recognize them you're doing pretty damn well in my book. Thus, I say quite freely and proudly that I am a conniving, chauvinistic, underhanded bastard and not in the slightest bit ashamed of it.
All right, so maybe I am a bit disappointed in myself from time to time and denial sometimes catches me in its river at times too, but for the most part I'm honest with myself. I get by and this is the only way I know how to be; upfront, honest and in some people's opinion down right annoying. I see it this way however, I don't need to be anyone else because this-this life of sadistic torture and hunt, it's all I know and all I need to know to get by. I may never know true bliss or an untainted love, but I know the feeling of power and for me that's a high all in itself. Besides I've always had my own little belief system and a mantra if you will...I'd give my pleasure for pain because who knows if the pleasure is real, but with pain.you can never be lead astray..
*
I've noticed that in my years of experience in Schwartz to never assume you know anything about your team mates because quite simply, you don't know much of anything. I know enough to cohabitate with them and not fear for my life (although that could just be my blatant disregard for living), but when it comes right down to it; what do I really know about my fellow members of Schwartz? I know glimpse and pieces of this and that from them, all due to my own digging around whilst their mental shields are at peace, but around these parts information about one's past is never easy to come by. So, you learn to fill in the blanks on your own and considering some of the ideas I've come up with for my dear team, I'm almost petrified to think what they've thought up for me.
It was another sleepless night as I lie awake in bed pondering this, wondering what I had in this world. I suppose the fact that I was dwelling hard on this subject was not helping the matter of my headache, but I needed something, anything at all to take my mind off the horror of my nightmares. As another wave of nausea swept over me I suppressed it with a groan, pinching my eyes shut. The last thing I needed was to spew up and re- meet what I ate earlier this evening and really I guess that the large amounts of alcohol I consumed had a lot to do with my headache and nausea as well. So now I lay here; in sheer head-splitting pain, barely keeping myself from getting sick as I over think myself to death, trying to elude the nightmares plaguing my sleep. I think it was pretty self explanatory from my current state that I was not a happy camper.
I lay silently with my eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to keep them from sliding out of focus as I fought off sleep as well. I began to wonder if it was worth it, if avoiding the images of my life's destruction was worth all this effort I was putting in. Maybe I should give up? Perhaps if I slept through it all, every last memory I had then I would finally be free. Nothing more would bother me if I just let it play it's self out.
"You simply are pathetic." was the voiced answer to my ponderings.
The voice that spoke was clearly speaking out with anger and agitation directed at me, the voice itself a rich alto that glided through the stuffy air of my room. As the voice fell silent my eyes shot open, weariness forgotten I looked around wildly. There was a pregnant silence in the room before a loud sigh was issued from my right.
"I'm over hear you imbecile," the agitated voice sounded off again. "Christ, you must be drunk beyond comprehension if it's taking you that long to locate me."
Anger flaring at the string of insults that followed this remark my eyes swiveled to the right of the room only to be swiftly pinched shut at the sight I saw. As much as I liked to be in control of myself at every moment of every day I couldn't help, but have a quick attack of panic swell within me. This couldn't be real; this had to be part of my nightmare it just had to be.
"Stop being a child would you?" asked the feminine voice in a reprimanding tone.
"You're not real." I stated firmly. "You can't be real because.you're dead."
"Yeah, I wish."
With that spoken, there was a clatter from on top of my bureau, numerous things I had set atop being pushed to the floor as the other occupant of my room climbed down from their perch and slowly made their way towards me. It was like suddenly my senses were heightened; I could feel their presence, their body moving closer and their breath passing through their lips, I could hear them too, the muffled sound of their feet ever so lightly treading upon my carpeted bedroom floor. Then finally they stood right above me, I could see them-sense them--even though my eyes were still pinched shut tightly.
"Open your eyes now, ausruhen{relax}." soothed the voice above me, an icy hand coming to glide down the side of my face. "Come now..don't be afraid of me."
I relaxed lightly, but still shied away from the chill of her hand. Just barely skimming the surface of her thoughts I felt the impact my action had on her; anger, resentment, fear, rejection, sadness..Other than those brief flickers I heard nothing, I felt nothing from her at all. As I finally came to terms with what I had seen I allowed my eyes to slide open just barely taking in the sight before me. She was young, as young as she had been the last time I'd seen her and so pale and flawless..just like a doll to me still.
"Why are you here? How?" I asked immediately as I allowed myself to finally open my eyes and focus on the person before me entirely.
The girl's face remained unchanged, her pale skin and delicate childish features giving her that doll-like illusion. Like her body may be made of porcelain or china, with two brilliant emeralds for eyes. She seemed so faint against the darkened silhouettes that lay around my room, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through slightly parted blinds. Finally I felt it and I was so terribly aware-she had been there all along, listening to my thoughts, somehow she knew everything.
Upon realizing that I could sense her presence lurking ever so barely in the back of my mind the illusion that held her was broken, the porcelain of her features shattered into oblivion as she smiled-no, smirked at me with a familiar glint in her eyes. I think I gasped, but I couldn't tell what was me and what was her anymore, it all seemed to mesh together; our minds and our bodies followed, becoming one and allowing me to see and feel everything.
I think I may have gotten a feel for what Bradley deals with when pulled into a vision, a swirling of time and place, like a giant black hole sucking everything into its pull. The darkness of my room gave way to a darker shade of bleakness, a color not even tarnished by the streaming moonlight outside. As soon as the darkness had come it was suddenly gone and I was standing in a field of colors and feeling. A gentle breeze caressed my sweat soaked body, causing my white cotton pajama bottoms to cling to my moist skin and chill me despite the sun hanging high overhead. Then I saw her again, standing amongst the swaying grasses and flowers. She smiled, really smiled at me, and in a deliberately slow motion extended her arm towards me, palm lying flat to face the rays of the golden sun above. From where I stood there was no mistaking what she wanted me to see and I saw it clearer than crystal, the marred scar of flesh on her otherwise flawless palm.
"I don't mean to sound cliché," she said, voice placid and soft to match the peaceful scenery. "But you do remember you promise, right?"
I faltered for a moment as I strained to remember. Perhaps it was the fact that I had tried so hard for years to push every memory of my life before Schwartz from my memory or perhaps the fact that I did not wish to remember, but either way my memory seemed to fog over as she inquired me. The marred flesh of her palm exposed before my eyes jarred something inside my locked memories and I found myself slowly mimicking her earlier movements. My arm extended as if on its own accord and I showed as well the scarred flesh of my pale palm. Seemingly satisfied with this her hand snapped shut and a smirk came to her deadly red lips.
"Good," she said in a deathly silent whisper, the words seeming to slide off her tongue and slither in the air between us. "Now keep that fresh in your mind for I've come to collect your debt to me. Remember this."
She trailed off and stared at my palm as my own eyes remained glued to her fisted hand unable to look away. The crimson liquid slowly slid down the flesh of her clenched fist, gliding magnificently down her pale arm and raining down in droplets off her elbow onto the flowers below. It was then as the blood rained down from her arm that I felt the puddle forming on my own palm, the rich warm liquid spilling over the sides of my hand to the ground in a steady stream of crimson. The little girl smirked still and spoke her last words as this world of flowers and sunshine slowly began to fade.
"My blood for your blood, your pain for my pain...and my life for yours." She whispered and the world faded into nothingness.
As the darkness overcame me once again I gasped, taking in a breath of the warm stuffy air in my own bedroom. I glanced around wearily, but found nothing, but my empty room and the moon hanging outside my window. I let out a deep breath, shaking my head lightly. It was a dream again.another nightmare. Slowly I moved my hand, brushing my fingers across my dry palm with a sigh of relief. That's all it had been, another nightmare on another restless night. Yet still, I couldn't help, but shiver remembering the coldness of her hand against my face. She had been so vivid, so alive, despite the fact that I knew she was dead.
*
It was currently raining outside, not as hard as it had been earlier in the morning, but hard enough to be echoed through the sparsely furnished living room as the droplets collided with the glass of the window. Shuldig watched absently as the tiny particles of water pelted against the windowpane. The skies were gray and the atmosphere thick with gloom, it was fitting he thought. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, needless to say, and currently he felt like crawling into a corner and dying. Maybe in death he could get some peace. More than likely not, with luck like his. His attempts to suppress being violently ill last night had backfired at him and he'd been greeting what he'd digested the night before until there was nothing left to greet. Not a very pretty sight.
While absorbed in his self-pity and utter despair, the German failed to notice the insistent calling of his name by one of his teammates. It took a fierce shake before he even registered where he was. Looking over, a cool mask of agitation covering his weariness, Shuldig glared at the Japanese boy at his elbow.
"Ja{Yes}?" he asked snappily.
"Crawford wants to see you in his office." the boy answered the older assassin, raising an eyebrow. "And he says if you don't come right away he foresees a very sudden and painful death in your near future, although I don't actually think I was supposed to tell you that."
Schuldig looked at Nagi for a moment, slowly digesting the information before letting out a heavy sigh. Standing, the German ran his fingers through his messy oranges tresses, brushing past the younger assassin nonchalantly. Knowing full and well that Crawford was more than likely planning to bitch at him for his behavior lately, Schuldig wasn't too thrilled to be conferencing with their leader right now.
"Thanks, kind{kid}." He muttered, sauntering towards Crawford's office.
Nagi watched him go, sapphire eyes following the German's lean frame across the apartment and down the hallway. Shaking his head, Nagi turned to the window, rain still pounding relentlessly against the glass. Touching his fingertips gently to the glass the young telekinetic frowned at his reflection. So he hadn't been the only one who noticed that Shuldig had been acting slightly off lately, Crawford must have noticed as well. All the screaming during the middle of the night, spacing out all the time and becoming deathly silent. It was just so un-Schuldig like. Shivering slightly at the sudden chill he got, Nagi slowly traced his fingers down the cool window, shaky little lines left behind in his hand's wake. So much had changed since Esset's downfall. They were trying as hard as they could to stick together and find decent work, could this new way of life be getting to Schuldig?
Though he highly doubted it, it was the only thing the teen could think up. Sighing lightly mentally, Nagi brought his fingers from the cool glass and let his arm fall back to his side. He stood for a moment, admiring the dark gray sky overhead before turning on his heel and making his way to his room. It was no use slaving for an answer; it would all become clear to him eventually. Or at least he hoped it would, but in this team sometimes logical explanations and answers were a luxury.
As Nagi headed into his room, Schuldig headed away down the hall to Crawford's office. He didn't bother knocking on the door before he entered and simply turned the knob and barged in purposefully. The American sat behind his polished oak desk, sifting through papers and occasionally glancing at his laptop screen. Sashaying in a carefree manner to the chair positioned in front of Crawford's desk Schuldig plopped himself gracefully into it and settled in for a long lecture. Crawford's eyes flickered up from his paper work briefly, surveying the German, before finishing up his reading. Once he was doen with the paper he had currently been reading he worked Schuldig into the flickering of his gaze, his paper, his screen, then Schuldig and then the cycle started once again. He did this knowing well enough how much Schuldig hated anything less then 100% of anyone's attention directed to him.
Giving the man a hard look this time, Crawford folded his hands in front of him on the top of the paper he had just been holding giving the redhead a bit more of his attention. Glad he was finally occupying more of the American's attention Schuldig smirked. Amusedly, his trademark smirk in place, Schuldig tilted his head and mocked the American's actions, leaning onto the desk. Clearly aggravated by the other man's actions, Crawford glared at him and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes.
"I didn't call you in here to sit and play little games, Schuldig." The man said sliding his glasses back onto his face.
"Well, I didn't expect that you did, Bradley." The German replied mockingly.
Glare worsening by a few degrees, Crawford looked the other man over. Schuldig stared back, clearly still amused by the whole situation at hand.
'So what exactly did you bring me in here for, almighty one?' Schuldig inquired, letting his words echo in the other man's head.
"I brought you here to discuss your behavior as of late." Crawford said cutting to the chase. "Lately you've been acting far weirder than normal and your sloppy work is grating on my very last nerve. What's going on with you, Schuldig?"
Schuldig inwardly cringed at the migraine he felt coming on. He'd figured that his teammates would figure out that something was up sooner or later, but he hadn't imagined that they would actually confront him like this. Then again, his nightmares had been getting much more frequent and vivid now. If the constant headaches and faraway looks hadn't done him in, it had to have been the constant wailing in the middle of the night. These dreams- no, these nightmares just wouldn't end. It's nothing Schuldig could help quite honestly and he didn't see how his apathetic team could help either.
"So, what about my behavior?" Schuldig said with a shrug, his whole demeanor changing to that of nonchalance.
"Schuldig what is going on?" Crawford asked his eyes dark. "We've all noticed it, so don't you dare deny a thing. Spacing out, the wailing, the headaches- god damnit Schuldig! Schwarz's success is built on our teamwork and accuracy. If one person, just one, is inaccurate or insubordinate, the whole team suffers."
A tension filled silence hung between the two assassins, both glowering at the other with all their might. Finally Schulidg shut his eyes, covering his face with his hand as he let out a shaky sigh.
"Nothing is wrong. Nothing that you can help, so just back off, Crawford." Schulidg snarled, peering through his fingers.
The American shook his head. "You're your own worst enemy, Schuldig. I promise you that if Schwarz is injured because of you, there will be consequences."
Letting his hand fall to his side, Schuldig nodded. Damnit! Of all the times to get a migraine, it just had to come now. Nodding his head hadn't done him much good either; the simple motion made him want to get violently sick. Noticing the sudden change in the redhead, Crawford stood and raised his eyebrows in question before his face became hard.
"Schuldig-"
"I'm fine, Crawford!" he snapped before the other man could comment.
Schuldig got to his feet quickly, immediately regretting the action, as it seemed to make the world spiral around him, and made his way to the door. Laying his hand on the doorknob, Schuldig grimaced. Everything hurt suddenly; his world was completely spinning. Crawford made his way from behind his desk and towards the German, but suddenly came to a jerky stop, eyes going distant and features becoming lax.
'Schuldig stumbled to the door, holding his head with a cigarette dangling between his lips. A knock sounded from somewhere down the hall and Schuldig grumbled in German under his breath. He finally came to the front door and slowly reached for the handle. The door came open and a green cloaked figure stood before the redhead, their face shadowed by the hood pulled far over their head.
Flawless, porcelain like hands slowly came to the person's hood and brought it down. Schuldig gasped and the cigarette fell from his lips, eyes going wide. The figure at the door spoke in a tongue Crawford couldn't quite make out, but apparently Schuldig understood and he shook his head, hand coming to cover his mouth in what appeared to be devastation. Then slowly his eyes rolled back and then came to shut as he teetered forward onto the cloaked person. It was all black after that, except two emerald green eyes....just emerald eyes..'
Crawford nearly fell over backwards as the world came back into focus around him and he stood before an open door, the German man nowhere in sight. Shaking his head fiercely, Crawford shut the door slowly, leaning on it as he did so. That vision....that person in the cloak, who was it? Their face was blurry and he could barely make out anything about them. Everything was gone, everything except that vivid color, those emerald green eyes. Where had he seen those eyes before? Those eyes were startling and Crawford wished he could possibly remember something less haunting. Whoever it was, Schulidg knew, but were they a friend or a foe?
*
"An' then we'lla use Rein-Oi, Rein! Care to tune in fr'm tha plan't spaz out to pay some attention, lass?" inquire a deep male voice with a rich Irish accent to the girl's right. "We dunna need an'thing to go wrong whilst we're in the tow'r now do we?"
Pulled from her silent reveries the girl blinked sluggish, dragging her void eyes away from the window to settled on the man addressing her. Her eyes slowly becoming more focused on the bunch currently studying her she smirked and turned right back to the window.
"I'm listening, führer{captain}." she said smirking at her reflection as she watched the rain hit the glass mercilessly. "Yes..I'm all ears."
*
Author's Comments: Slightly cliff-hangerish, but the next chapter will be much longer and more.entertainging, we promise! So please review and we'll see what we can do! Oh and correct us please if any of our foreign languages are wrong! Thanks again! -^^- ~*~ Otsu and Ari
Disclaimer: Sadly we don't own Weiss..or...Schwarz....well, only in my dreams. ^^
Rating: PG-13, rating may change
Summary: Leading a life filled with corruption and blood lust; the men of Schwartz each hold their own secrets about their history, but most mysterious of all is our dear German redhead, Schuldig..how is that the 'guilty' one came to be? Dare you read and find out?
Otsune & Ari Says: Forgive us; we are, but humble underlings trying to appease the many Weiss fans of the world! We talk full responsibility for all screw-ups in this story and will not be offended if we are stoned together for the mis-telling of facts. However, before you cast your stones, be aware we are not native English speakers and that this is fiction.sometimes things don't always go as according to the Weiss world. So please be kind if possible! Thank you! ^-^
NOTE: Now, the first part of this is just a Schuldig insight; a random rambling if you will. I suppose you can skip right over it if you like, but it';s there for your entertainment if you wish to read it. Oh and this was also once called, 'Commemoration of The Past', but this is the spiffier, updated version.
*~*
My name is Schuldig and I admit with absolute grace and dignity, that I am a complete and utter chauvinistic bastard. That's right; you read that correctly, if you have any doubt-- reread it, dumb ass. Perhaps you're pondering now why I would say such a horrible thing about my own being, but it's really quite simple: because it's nothing, but the complete and honest truth. I've always believed that one should be completely honest with themselves, no matter how brutal the truth may be. It's only fair to everyone that you admit your faults. Now, you may not always do something about them, but as long as you recognize them you're doing pretty damn well in my book. Thus, I say quite freely and proudly that I am a conniving, chauvinistic, underhanded bastard and not in the slightest bit ashamed of it.
All right, so maybe I am a bit disappointed in myself from time to time and denial sometimes catches me in its river at times too, but for the most part I'm honest with myself. I get by and this is the only way I know how to be; upfront, honest and in some people's opinion down right annoying. I see it this way however, I don't need to be anyone else because this-this life of sadistic torture and hunt, it's all I know and all I need to know to get by. I may never know true bliss or an untainted love, but I know the feeling of power and for me that's a high all in itself. Besides I've always had my own little belief system and a mantra if you will...I'd give my pleasure for pain because who knows if the pleasure is real, but with pain.you can never be lead astray..
*
I've noticed that in my years of experience in Schwartz to never assume you know anything about your team mates because quite simply, you don't know much of anything. I know enough to cohabitate with them and not fear for my life (although that could just be my blatant disregard for living), but when it comes right down to it; what do I really know about my fellow members of Schwartz? I know glimpse and pieces of this and that from them, all due to my own digging around whilst their mental shields are at peace, but around these parts information about one's past is never easy to come by. So, you learn to fill in the blanks on your own and considering some of the ideas I've come up with for my dear team, I'm almost petrified to think what they've thought up for me.
It was another sleepless night as I lie awake in bed pondering this, wondering what I had in this world. I suppose the fact that I was dwelling hard on this subject was not helping the matter of my headache, but I needed something, anything at all to take my mind off the horror of my nightmares. As another wave of nausea swept over me I suppressed it with a groan, pinching my eyes shut. The last thing I needed was to spew up and re- meet what I ate earlier this evening and really I guess that the large amounts of alcohol I consumed had a lot to do with my headache and nausea as well. So now I lay here; in sheer head-splitting pain, barely keeping myself from getting sick as I over think myself to death, trying to elude the nightmares plaguing my sleep. I think it was pretty self explanatory from my current state that I was not a happy camper.
I lay silently with my eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to keep them from sliding out of focus as I fought off sleep as well. I began to wonder if it was worth it, if avoiding the images of my life's destruction was worth all this effort I was putting in. Maybe I should give up? Perhaps if I slept through it all, every last memory I had then I would finally be free. Nothing more would bother me if I just let it play it's self out.
"You simply are pathetic." was the voiced answer to my ponderings.
The voice that spoke was clearly speaking out with anger and agitation directed at me, the voice itself a rich alto that glided through the stuffy air of my room. As the voice fell silent my eyes shot open, weariness forgotten I looked around wildly. There was a pregnant silence in the room before a loud sigh was issued from my right.
"I'm over hear you imbecile," the agitated voice sounded off again. "Christ, you must be drunk beyond comprehension if it's taking you that long to locate me."
Anger flaring at the string of insults that followed this remark my eyes swiveled to the right of the room only to be swiftly pinched shut at the sight I saw. As much as I liked to be in control of myself at every moment of every day I couldn't help, but have a quick attack of panic swell within me. This couldn't be real; this had to be part of my nightmare it just had to be.
"Stop being a child would you?" asked the feminine voice in a reprimanding tone.
"You're not real." I stated firmly. "You can't be real because.you're dead."
"Yeah, I wish."
With that spoken, there was a clatter from on top of my bureau, numerous things I had set atop being pushed to the floor as the other occupant of my room climbed down from their perch and slowly made their way towards me. It was like suddenly my senses were heightened; I could feel their presence, their body moving closer and their breath passing through their lips, I could hear them too, the muffled sound of their feet ever so lightly treading upon my carpeted bedroom floor. Then finally they stood right above me, I could see them-sense them--even though my eyes were still pinched shut tightly.
"Open your eyes now, ausruhen{relax}." soothed the voice above me, an icy hand coming to glide down the side of my face. "Come now..don't be afraid of me."
I relaxed lightly, but still shied away from the chill of her hand. Just barely skimming the surface of her thoughts I felt the impact my action had on her; anger, resentment, fear, rejection, sadness..Other than those brief flickers I heard nothing, I felt nothing from her at all. As I finally came to terms with what I had seen I allowed my eyes to slide open just barely taking in the sight before me. She was young, as young as she had been the last time I'd seen her and so pale and flawless..just like a doll to me still.
"Why are you here? How?" I asked immediately as I allowed myself to finally open my eyes and focus on the person before me entirely.
The girl's face remained unchanged, her pale skin and delicate childish features giving her that doll-like illusion. Like her body may be made of porcelain or china, with two brilliant emeralds for eyes. She seemed so faint against the darkened silhouettes that lay around my room, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through slightly parted blinds. Finally I felt it and I was so terribly aware-she had been there all along, listening to my thoughts, somehow she knew everything.
Upon realizing that I could sense her presence lurking ever so barely in the back of my mind the illusion that held her was broken, the porcelain of her features shattered into oblivion as she smiled-no, smirked at me with a familiar glint in her eyes. I think I gasped, but I couldn't tell what was me and what was her anymore, it all seemed to mesh together; our minds and our bodies followed, becoming one and allowing me to see and feel everything.
I think I may have gotten a feel for what Bradley deals with when pulled into a vision, a swirling of time and place, like a giant black hole sucking everything into its pull. The darkness of my room gave way to a darker shade of bleakness, a color not even tarnished by the streaming moonlight outside. As soon as the darkness had come it was suddenly gone and I was standing in a field of colors and feeling. A gentle breeze caressed my sweat soaked body, causing my white cotton pajama bottoms to cling to my moist skin and chill me despite the sun hanging high overhead. Then I saw her again, standing amongst the swaying grasses and flowers. She smiled, really smiled at me, and in a deliberately slow motion extended her arm towards me, palm lying flat to face the rays of the golden sun above. From where I stood there was no mistaking what she wanted me to see and I saw it clearer than crystal, the marred scar of flesh on her otherwise flawless palm.
"I don't mean to sound cliché," she said, voice placid and soft to match the peaceful scenery. "But you do remember you promise, right?"
I faltered for a moment as I strained to remember. Perhaps it was the fact that I had tried so hard for years to push every memory of my life before Schwartz from my memory or perhaps the fact that I did not wish to remember, but either way my memory seemed to fog over as she inquired me. The marred flesh of her palm exposed before my eyes jarred something inside my locked memories and I found myself slowly mimicking her earlier movements. My arm extended as if on its own accord and I showed as well the scarred flesh of my pale palm. Seemingly satisfied with this her hand snapped shut and a smirk came to her deadly red lips.
"Good," she said in a deathly silent whisper, the words seeming to slide off her tongue and slither in the air between us. "Now keep that fresh in your mind for I've come to collect your debt to me. Remember this."
She trailed off and stared at my palm as my own eyes remained glued to her fisted hand unable to look away. The crimson liquid slowly slid down the flesh of her clenched fist, gliding magnificently down her pale arm and raining down in droplets off her elbow onto the flowers below. It was then as the blood rained down from her arm that I felt the puddle forming on my own palm, the rich warm liquid spilling over the sides of my hand to the ground in a steady stream of crimson. The little girl smirked still and spoke her last words as this world of flowers and sunshine slowly began to fade.
"My blood for your blood, your pain for my pain...and my life for yours." She whispered and the world faded into nothingness.
As the darkness overcame me once again I gasped, taking in a breath of the warm stuffy air in my own bedroom. I glanced around wearily, but found nothing, but my empty room and the moon hanging outside my window. I let out a deep breath, shaking my head lightly. It was a dream again.another nightmare. Slowly I moved my hand, brushing my fingers across my dry palm with a sigh of relief. That's all it had been, another nightmare on another restless night. Yet still, I couldn't help, but shiver remembering the coldness of her hand against my face. She had been so vivid, so alive, despite the fact that I knew she was dead.
*
It was currently raining outside, not as hard as it had been earlier in the morning, but hard enough to be echoed through the sparsely furnished living room as the droplets collided with the glass of the window. Shuldig watched absently as the tiny particles of water pelted against the windowpane. The skies were gray and the atmosphere thick with gloom, it was fitting he thought. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, needless to say, and currently he felt like crawling into a corner and dying. Maybe in death he could get some peace. More than likely not, with luck like his. His attempts to suppress being violently ill last night had backfired at him and he'd been greeting what he'd digested the night before until there was nothing left to greet. Not a very pretty sight.
While absorbed in his self-pity and utter despair, the German failed to notice the insistent calling of his name by one of his teammates. It took a fierce shake before he even registered where he was. Looking over, a cool mask of agitation covering his weariness, Shuldig glared at the Japanese boy at his elbow.
"Ja{Yes}?" he asked snappily.
"Crawford wants to see you in his office." the boy answered the older assassin, raising an eyebrow. "And he says if you don't come right away he foresees a very sudden and painful death in your near future, although I don't actually think I was supposed to tell you that."
Schuldig looked at Nagi for a moment, slowly digesting the information before letting out a heavy sigh. Standing, the German ran his fingers through his messy oranges tresses, brushing past the younger assassin nonchalantly. Knowing full and well that Crawford was more than likely planning to bitch at him for his behavior lately, Schuldig wasn't too thrilled to be conferencing with their leader right now.
"Thanks, kind{kid}." He muttered, sauntering towards Crawford's office.
Nagi watched him go, sapphire eyes following the German's lean frame across the apartment and down the hallway. Shaking his head, Nagi turned to the window, rain still pounding relentlessly against the glass. Touching his fingertips gently to the glass the young telekinetic frowned at his reflection. So he hadn't been the only one who noticed that Shuldig had been acting slightly off lately, Crawford must have noticed as well. All the screaming during the middle of the night, spacing out all the time and becoming deathly silent. It was just so un-Schuldig like. Shivering slightly at the sudden chill he got, Nagi slowly traced his fingers down the cool window, shaky little lines left behind in his hand's wake. So much had changed since Esset's downfall. They were trying as hard as they could to stick together and find decent work, could this new way of life be getting to Schuldig?
Though he highly doubted it, it was the only thing the teen could think up. Sighing lightly mentally, Nagi brought his fingers from the cool glass and let his arm fall back to his side. He stood for a moment, admiring the dark gray sky overhead before turning on his heel and making his way to his room. It was no use slaving for an answer; it would all become clear to him eventually. Or at least he hoped it would, but in this team sometimes logical explanations and answers were a luxury.
As Nagi headed into his room, Schuldig headed away down the hall to Crawford's office. He didn't bother knocking on the door before he entered and simply turned the knob and barged in purposefully. The American sat behind his polished oak desk, sifting through papers and occasionally glancing at his laptop screen. Sashaying in a carefree manner to the chair positioned in front of Crawford's desk Schuldig plopped himself gracefully into it and settled in for a long lecture. Crawford's eyes flickered up from his paper work briefly, surveying the German, before finishing up his reading. Once he was doen with the paper he had currently been reading he worked Schuldig into the flickering of his gaze, his paper, his screen, then Schuldig and then the cycle started once again. He did this knowing well enough how much Schuldig hated anything less then 100% of anyone's attention directed to him.
Giving the man a hard look this time, Crawford folded his hands in front of him on the top of the paper he had just been holding giving the redhead a bit more of his attention. Glad he was finally occupying more of the American's attention Schuldig smirked. Amusedly, his trademark smirk in place, Schuldig tilted his head and mocked the American's actions, leaning onto the desk. Clearly aggravated by the other man's actions, Crawford glared at him and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes.
"I didn't call you in here to sit and play little games, Schuldig." The man said sliding his glasses back onto his face.
"Well, I didn't expect that you did, Bradley." The German replied mockingly.
Glare worsening by a few degrees, Crawford looked the other man over. Schuldig stared back, clearly still amused by the whole situation at hand.
'So what exactly did you bring me in here for, almighty one?' Schuldig inquired, letting his words echo in the other man's head.
"I brought you here to discuss your behavior as of late." Crawford said cutting to the chase. "Lately you've been acting far weirder than normal and your sloppy work is grating on my very last nerve. What's going on with you, Schuldig?"
Schuldig inwardly cringed at the migraine he felt coming on. He'd figured that his teammates would figure out that something was up sooner or later, but he hadn't imagined that they would actually confront him like this. Then again, his nightmares had been getting much more frequent and vivid now. If the constant headaches and faraway looks hadn't done him in, it had to have been the constant wailing in the middle of the night. These dreams- no, these nightmares just wouldn't end. It's nothing Schuldig could help quite honestly and he didn't see how his apathetic team could help either.
"So, what about my behavior?" Schuldig said with a shrug, his whole demeanor changing to that of nonchalance.
"Schuldig what is going on?" Crawford asked his eyes dark. "We've all noticed it, so don't you dare deny a thing. Spacing out, the wailing, the headaches- god damnit Schuldig! Schwarz's success is built on our teamwork and accuracy. If one person, just one, is inaccurate or insubordinate, the whole team suffers."
A tension filled silence hung between the two assassins, both glowering at the other with all their might. Finally Schulidg shut his eyes, covering his face with his hand as he let out a shaky sigh.
"Nothing is wrong. Nothing that you can help, so just back off, Crawford." Schulidg snarled, peering through his fingers.
The American shook his head. "You're your own worst enemy, Schuldig. I promise you that if Schwarz is injured because of you, there will be consequences."
Letting his hand fall to his side, Schuldig nodded. Damnit! Of all the times to get a migraine, it just had to come now. Nodding his head hadn't done him much good either; the simple motion made him want to get violently sick. Noticing the sudden change in the redhead, Crawford stood and raised his eyebrows in question before his face became hard.
"Schuldig-"
"I'm fine, Crawford!" he snapped before the other man could comment.
Schuldig got to his feet quickly, immediately regretting the action, as it seemed to make the world spiral around him, and made his way to the door. Laying his hand on the doorknob, Schuldig grimaced. Everything hurt suddenly; his world was completely spinning. Crawford made his way from behind his desk and towards the German, but suddenly came to a jerky stop, eyes going distant and features becoming lax.
'Schuldig stumbled to the door, holding his head with a cigarette dangling between his lips. A knock sounded from somewhere down the hall and Schuldig grumbled in German under his breath. He finally came to the front door and slowly reached for the handle. The door came open and a green cloaked figure stood before the redhead, their face shadowed by the hood pulled far over their head.
Flawless, porcelain like hands slowly came to the person's hood and brought it down. Schuldig gasped and the cigarette fell from his lips, eyes going wide. The figure at the door spoke in a tongue Crawford couldn't quite make out, but apparently Schuldig understood and he shook his head, hand coming to cover his mouth in what appeared to be devastation. Then slowly his eyes rolled back and then came to shut as he teetered forward onto the cloaked person. It was all black after that, except two emerald green eyes....just emerald eyes..'
Crawford nearly fell over backwards as the world came back into focus around him and he stood before an open door, the German man nowhere in sight. Shaking his head fiercely, Crawford shut the door slowly, leaning on it as he did so. That vision....that person in the cloak, who was it? Their face was blurry and he could barely make out anything about them. Everything was gone, everything except that vivid color, those emerald green eyes. Where had he seen those eyes before? Those eyes were startling and Crawford wished he could possibly remember something less haunting. Whoever it was, Schulidg knew, but were they a friend or a foe?
*
"An' then we'lla use Rein-Oi, Rein! Care to tune in fr'm tha plan't spaz out to pay some attention, lass?" inquire a deep male voice with a rich Irish accent to the girl's right. "We dunna need an'thing to go wrong whilst we're in the tow'r now do we?"
Pulled from her silent reveries the girl blinked sluggish, dragging her void eyes away from the window to settled on the man addressing her. Her eyes slowly becoming more focused on the bunch currently studying her she smirked and turned right back to the window.
"I'm listening, führer{captain}." she said smirking at her reflection as she watched the rain hit the glass mercilessly. "Yes..I'm all ears."
*
Author's Comments: Slightly cliff-hangerish, but the next chapter will be much longer and more.entertainging, we promise! So please review and we'll see what we can do! Oh and correct us please if any of our foreign languages are wrong! Thanks again! -^^- ~*~ Otsu and Ari