"And in other news the teenaged Asian boy, found on the New York City Line almost two weeks ago, has finally started to recover consciousness. He was found, beaten into unconsciousness with severe head wounds, and his current rate of recovery pays testament to the hospital's doctors and nurses... It is hoped that he will soon be able to give details of his attackers, and that the hospital will soon be able to reunite him with his family."
"Brad?"
"What?"
"We're going to a hospital in upstate New York."
"Why?"
"Nagi's there."
"I'll drive!"
* * *
It was a great change from the surly, rude Brad of the last few days, fidgeting and snapping and at everyone and everything. Now he was a mass of potential energy, positively crackling with it. His shoulders were taut, his back tense, his eyes fixed on the road, never blinking, and his mouth curled in a fixed grin, or maybe a grimace. Yes, it was a change, but Michael wasn't certain it was for the better.
"I think we ought to switch, for a bit," he suggested. "You shouldn't be driving when you're so tired."
"I'm not tired."
"You've had maybe three hours unbroken sleep in the last two weeks."
"I'm not tired."
"We passed the right exit about two miles back."
"Shit."
* * *
"How are we today?" The nurse smiled. Nagi scowled at her. He'd tried to get up and use the ensuite bathroom so tantalisingly close earlier, only to find his legs didn't seem to work. They'd found him between train and track. He was told that it was just broken bones, but it would take him a while to get back on his feet. They told him he was lucky his spine was badly damaged.
Badly? He hadn't known it was damaged at all. Like very bad whiplash, one nurse had described it to him. Not broken, but strained. He'd probably fallen out the carriage. And then there was the skull injuries, and probable brain damage. Oh yeah, and the broken ribs. And the dislocated shoulder, which despite being back in its socket still felt painful. He'd stretched the tendons or something. Biology wasn't Nagi's strong point.
And what upset Nagi most of all: they'd shave half his head. Not his whole head, oh no, but half. He had half a fringe, flopping into his eyes. And as tired as he was most of the time he couldn't even summon the energy to brush it out of the way. It tickled his eye and reminded him constantly that the 'probable brain damage' was the loss of his powers.
Nagi gave a noncommittal grunt.
"The doctors want to speak to you. Do you feel up to it?" she cooed.
Nagi gave her a superior look. "They'd come whether I did or not," he pointed out coldly.
The doctors were nice. They didn't treat him like a small child. They didn't force him to watch Pokemon every time it was on, they didn't make smiley faces with his food, they didn't tell him he'd had a nasty bump on the head when he wanted to know about the brain surgery. Well, that was unfair on the nurses. Even on the one in particular. She was just trying to be nice, but if Nagi had had access to his telekinesis he'd have thrown her through the window by now.
He tried not to think about that too often. It wasn't that it hurt, it just scared him. He felt so vulnerable, so small, so weak, so insignificant. And then there was the fear that Crawford wouldn't want him any more. Crawford had chosen him for his power. He didn't have that power any more.
"Naoe-kun," a voice interrupted his thoughts. He'd told them his name yesterday, but fallen asleep before he could remember his address or phone number.
"Good morning," he smiled tiredly.
"How are you feeling? Any headaches?"
"No, not yet. I wrote down my details last night, for you, when they woke me up to give me the painkillers."
"You'd rather have slept through it?" the doctor grinned. Dr Kurebayashi, a fellow country man, who Nagi suspected would rather have spoken wit him in Japanese, but the two Americans with him meant they had to stick to English.
"I don't like pills. Or injections," Nagi sighed. "I was wondering if anyone could tell me about what I assume must have been brain surgery. What happened?"
"The police want to come and question you, when you feel able to cope with it, about what happened. We don't want to alter any memories you might have."
"You stuck knives in my head," Nagi said dryly, "I think you may have altered them already."
"You came in with half your skull caved in. We didn't think you would survive," one of the other doctors said candidly. "It's very likely that you've suffered some brain damage, though we can't be certain yet how it will affect you. Have you had any memory trouble?"
"No."
"Any issues with personality change? Have you found yourself surlier or more inclined to mood changes?"
"No. I've always been this grumpy," Nagi smirked. The doctors chuckled.
"Any troubles with co-ordination?" the doctor asked, and Nagi became aware that he was ticking things off on a small clipboard.
"Not that I know of. I mean, I haven't been moving much, and I'm still getting used to being strapped up."
"Yes, they did rather make mincemeat of you, didn't they?"
"I don't know," Nagi sighed. "I mean, I can remember, but I think I lost consciousness pretty quick. I'm not good with pain."
"Well, that's about it for now," the doctor smiled. "Is there anything you want?"
Nagi bit his lip. "Was… anything found? A bag maybe?"
The doctors exchanged glances. "No, nothing. We assumed the motivation was theft. You didn't have a wallet or watch or anything on you either."
"Damn," Nagi sighed. "I had a laptop with me. I was hoping… Well, you can guess."
"We're sorry," Kurebayashi spread his hands apologetically. "I hope you had insurance."
Nagi grimaced. "Knew I'd forgotten something."
"Well, we'll see you later," one of the other doctors said with a guilty smirk. "We're sending those numbers down to reception so they can contact your parents."
"Not my parents," Nagi sighed. "My guardian."
There was a pause. An awkward pause. After much shuffling of feet the doctors left Nagi alone, with only the most of obligatory of nodded goodbyes. He watched them go with apathy. It didn't bother him that he'd wrong footed them, when they'd merely been trying to be nice, but neither did it please him.
Nagi was staring mindlessly at the blank white wall when the door was flung violently open, juddering on its hinges. He'd switched off, doing his best not to think about anything, so it wasn't until he was wrapped in a fierce hug that he came back to reality.
He found himself smothered in a wave of hot silky milk chocolate skin. Michael was wearing a sleeveless shirt and his arms brushed flesh on Nagi's back, left bare by the gown. It made him gasp, and he hugged Michael back convulsively. Michael smelt of sweat and coffee and smoke, a sure sign that Brad was stressed. Brad only smoked when he was stressed.
Michael eventually forced himself to relax, and he settled himself on the left side of Nagi's bed, one arm still loosely around Nagi's shoulders. Nagi found his hands tightly tangled in the soft, corded wool of Michael's vest. He didn't want to let go. It was a strange moment for Nagi.
There was a polite cough from the doorway. Nagi looked up to see Brad standing there, hands tucked behind his back, head slightly bowed. His shirt was rumbled and done up incorrectly, his trousers were badly creased and his watch was missing from his wrist, noticeable in it's absence by a band of pale skin.
Nagi glanced sideways, and saw that Michael was frowning at Brad, and shooting looks at Nagi, trying to communicate that Brad should come and hug the boy as well.
"Hi," Nagi managed.
"Nagi," Brad swallowed.
"Sit down," Michael finally snapped. Nagi and Brad both jumped at the abrupt command, but Brad actually obeyed, seating himself awkwardly on Nagi's right.
"How are you?" Brad asked, not looking at the boy.
Nagi burst into tears.
Michael jerked back, jerking his arm back into his body in sheer shock. Before he could wrap it around Nagi again in a comforting hug Brad had reached around Nagi and rested his arm across Nagi's shoulders. He dug left-handed into a pocket and produced a white silk handkerchief with BC embroidered in a corner. Nagi clutched it and occasionally made halfhearted swipes at his eyes with it.
In soft Japanese Crawford said, "You've accomplished what Rosenkreuz never managed to figure out."
"You know?" Nagi spluttered in the same language.
"I can tell," Brad said uncertainly. "I suppose it's a hangover from spending so much time around Schuldig."
Nagi couldn't talk then, sobbing harder. Strange broken squeaks came from deep in his throat, and Michael felt his heart constrict. He had no idea what was going on, but every paternal instinct he had screamed for him to cuddle Nagi and mutter soothing lies. Nagi wouldn't appreciate it, he knew, and Brad's method was far and away the best way to deal with whatever Nagi was doing, but he couldn't keep himself from reaching out and squeezing on of Nagi's hands. Nagi offered him a watery smile, but Michael could tell that Nagi wasn't actually looking at him.
"You'll be normal," Brad told the Japanese boy.
"I don't want to be normal," Nagi burst out with such alarming ferocity that even Brad jumped. "I like being special. My life is crap. Psychokinesis made it bearable. I was special."
"Your life isn't…" Brad couldn't bring himself to use the juvenile swearword, "that bad," he eventually substituted weakly. "Normal has its perks too. You don't need to be special any more."
For some reason that wasn't making it any better.
Nagi shoved his elbow into Brad's stomach, and Brad gasped not because it hurt, but because it didn't. Nagi was weak, and already his tears were exhausting him. He choked and struggled for air, gasping like a dying fish. Brad rubbed circles on his back awkwardly, and exchanged looks with Michael over his head. Should they call a nurse? Nagi was shaking and shivering, eyes screwed shut and mouth half open.
Before either of them could move, though, Nagi began to calm down. He wriggled out of both their grasps and lay down, pulling the hospital blankets up over his head. Brad watched the covers move as Nagi tried to curl into a foetal position but had to settle with simply being on his side. Michael reached out to rest his hand where Nagi's back was, but Nagi jerked and shook his hand off before Michael had even rested its weight on him.
Brad stared miserably at the door. "Well," he said dully, "I could have handled that better."
"Handled what?" Michael said, shooting cautionary glances at Nagi's form.
"You're right," Brad went on. "No Social Service system would let a child pick their own guardian. I'm a terrible father."
"Not true," Michael refuted immediately. "Teenagers are hard to fathom as it is."
Brad looked at him sadly. "I suppose we ought to go. I get the impression Nagi doesn't want us here."
"You think?" Michael said incredulously.
Nagi heard them leave, but he still refused to emerge from under the covers. It was safe and dark and warm. He was still crying, but it was just tears now, and the occasional sob. That gut-wrenching panting and smothering pain was over, a passing result of something akin to a panic attack as the reality of his situation finally settled fully in his brain.
He wanted Michael and Brad to come back, he realised. He was lonely, and bored. Hospital was the most boring thing he'd ever been put through. Michael had made him feel wanted, and Brad… Brad had used the word father.
Nagi tugged the blankets away and peered around the room. Listening hard, he could hear voices in the corridor outside. He wanted desperately for them to belong to Brad and Michael, but he couldn't bring himself to assume.
"Crawford-san?" he quavered.
The voices stopped, and the door opened. It was a male nurse. Nagi bit back the wave of crushing disappointment.
"You want someone?" the nurse asked cheerfully.
"A… friend, just left," Nagi said in a small voice. "Two friends. I thought it might be them talking. It doesn't matter."
"Wait, a white guy and a black dude?" the nurse asked.
"Yeah, that'd be them," Nagi sighed. "It doesn't matter."
"They're just around the corner," the nurse grinned. "Want me to go bring them back?"
Nagi wavered for a moment. It was embarrassing to call them back, so soon after he had made it clear he wanted them to leave, but weighing his pride against his loneliness he nodded frantically.
Within seconds Brad and Michael were back, Michael sitting on the bed again, down by Nagi's feet, Brad taking the chair this time. Nagi was too tired to sit up again, but after flailing about for a second he found the remote that allowed him to make the bed do it for him.
"I'm sorry," he said, dark eyes huge.
Brad's eyes were bloodshot and a bit puffy. Nagi couldn't stop staring at him.
"Why don't you tell us what happened, if you want to?" Michael suggested awkwardly.
"I was going to go and stay in a hostel," Nagi bit his lip. "Really make you both worry. But I got, I don't know, mugged, I guess, on the train. The police aren't going to be able to classify the crime. I kinda provoked them, I think. And then I woke up here."
"Short story," Michael murmured, eyebrows raised.
"What have you been up to recently?" Nagi asked. "I only found out today how long I'd been out."
"Going frantic," Brad spoke up suddenly. "I couldn't see you coming back. We even called the police." He paused. "No, Michael called the police. And Michael suggested I call Schu and Farf, just in case. Michael was worried about you from the beginning." He sighed and slumped down in the chair.
"He was beside himself," Michael said. "Brad was really worried about you."
"I know," Nagi said with a small smile. "He's been smoking. I can smell it all over you," he looked up at Michael. There was a cheeky twinkle in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
Michael laughed. "You should see the amount of coffee he's been drinking. We're going to have to make him switch to decaf from now on."
"Oh dear," Nagi smiled. "He's not going to like that."
"I was thinking we switch it when he's not around. You know, empty the normal coffee jar and replace it with decaf, so he can't tell."
"I'm right here. And I use real beans, as you both know, so that's not going to work."
Nagi looked over at him. Not taking his eyes off his ex team member, he said to Michael, "I know it's rued, but would you mind leaving me and Brad to speak in private for a bit? I don't mean to exclude, its just, well…" he grimaced apologetically.
"Of course," Michael smiled. "I'll go and get some coffee from the foyer."
"Oh no you don't," Brad grabbed his shoulder as Michael began t make his way out. "You drank almost as much as me. Fruit juice, okay?" He leant in and gave his lover a quick kiss on the lips. Michael embraced him briefly, nuzzling his jaw line.
"Whatever you say," Michael murmured. "I'll wait outside." He pulled back and looked at Brad, then leant in for a much deeper, more passionate kiss. When he left, Nagi laughed to see that Brad was blushing.
He sat down next to Nagi on the bed, toeing off his shoes and stretching his legs out, crossing them at the knee. Nagi marvelled at this.
"When did this occur?" he wondered allowed.
Brad looked at him. "When did what occur?"
"You. Being casual. It's a Michael thing, isn't it?" Nagi managed to resurrect that cheeky twinkle whilst keeping his face completely deadpan.
Brad chuckled. "It's relief," he said candidly. "That and being supremely tired. Too tired to care." He sighed and settled back, hands behind his head, fingers interlocked. "Damn," he said suddenly. "We've got to book a bloody hotel too."
"You should have asked Michael before he left. You know, when you didn't have his tongue down his throat." Brad almost swatted Nagi playfully, but stopped midswing. Nagi was already ducking, but his face fell when he realised Brad had put his hand back behind his head. He hated being ill. Broken. Delicate.
"He'll probably do it anyway," Brad forced himself to keep talking like nothing had happened. "He's very practical. It probably occurred to him during the drive here."
"Probably?" Nagi asked, voice a little sharp.
Brad bit his lip. "He is going to," he admitted. "I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you any further, but no matter what I do I seem to put my foot in it."
"I've got to get used to it," Nagi said bitterly. "I'm not special any more. I'm Normal."
Brad looked at him. "Michael is normal, as you so patronisingly put it," he said, frost creeping into his tone.
"I don't want normal," Nagi said, his frustration showing in his voice. "I know you do. I know it's not a bad thing. I know Michael's a great guy, don't get me wrong, and I know there are a lot of great normal guys out there. That's not it. I don't want those things. I never did. I loved being a telekinetic. It was like my reward for putting up with so much shit during my life."
"Did you ever consider it might be the cause?" Brad said quietly.
"Always," Nagi said. "But that was okay. I had a powerful gift. Of course it came with a price." He paused for a moment. "Can you imagine losing your gift?" he asked softly.
Brad felt his stomach clench. The mere idea made him feel physically ill. Not knowing the future? Living in that uncertain chaos the rest of humanity was subject to? He moaned.
"Exactly," Nagi said.
"We are arrogant," Brad said with difficulty. "We were proud."
"We had every right to be," Nagi pointed out.
"No, we didn't. We all take our gifts for granted. Schuldig bitches constantly about his power, but he'd go insane without it. Maybe Farfarello was right to avoid using his gift. He never look his power for granted, because he used it so rarely he got a thrill out of it every time." Brad blinked, hard.
"You and Schuldig never had that option," Nagi said dully.
"That doesn't mean we don't take what we have for granted. Not just our powers." Brad sat up and turned to face Nagi properly. "The way I felt just then, imagining being unable to see the future, it was nothing compared to how I felt when I allowed myself to believe that I'd lost you."
Nagi looked up at him. He couldn't find anything to say.
"I'm tired," Brad said weakly. "I'm tired and emotional and I've been on the verge of a nervous break down for a week. I have a right to be sappy." Nagi smiled at that, and Brad smiled back. "Nagi, you're very important to me. If you had stayed with Schuldig, or Farfarello, I probably wouldn't be here now. I don't like admitting that kind of weakness even to myself, but you've been a great help to me."
"And you me," Nagi inserted.
Brad cupped Nagi's head with one hand. "Things have changed a lot," he said. "We've both changed as people. We're not the same men who tried to take over the world. I don't know, but I've passed that now. I lack that kind of motivation."
He left it hanging. Nagi knew what Brad was asking him to say. Brad was asking him to admit that it meant nothing to him as well now. The power, the anarchy, the potential for all or nothing. Nagi couldn't do it. He still missed that sense of grandeur and purpose. Brad wanted some domestic scene, as far as Nagi could tell, probably in a little suburban house with a white picket fence and a yappy dog.
"Nagi?" Brad drew the boy's attention slowly back to himself. "I know that's not where you are, right now, but you're going to have to get there."
Nagi stared at him. He could feel the tears welling up again.
"You've never had it," Brad went on. "I have. I had really quite a happy childhood, all things considered. Certainly compared with you or Farfarello. I know that it's a desirable thing. All your experience tells you otherwise. You're going to have to play this one blind, Nagi. You've got a lot to learn, and a long way to go."
"What if I can't?" Nagi burst out. "They don't know if I'll even be able to walk yet. They can't tell how badly my spine was damaged. I'm exhausted the whole time, because of all the drugs. Half the time I'm hallucinating. I've got to get used to life without telekinesis." His shoulders began to shake. "Who knows what else got cut out of my mind? I can't do all this at once," he sobbed. "I can't do normal, Crawford-san. I don't know how!"
Brad leant over and wrapped his arms around Nagi. "It's okay," he soothed. "Life changes are hard to cope with. I just think you'll find it easier if it does all happen at once. A complete break."
Nagi sniffed. "What about Schu and Farf?" he asked.
Brad gave him an amused look. "They both managed it long before us, remember? We were both upset about it. Now ask what you really want to know."
"What about Omi?" Nagi asked.
"He's probably getting very worried that he hasn't heard from you for a fortnight," Brad smiled. "If you let this happen, then it will simply make it easier for the two of you to be together."
Nagi scowled then. "That's emotional blackmail," he pointed out. "If I let you force me into your two point four children fantasy, you'll let me have my boyfriend."
Brad looked taken aback. "Where did all that come from?" he asked, looking a bit hurt. "I have no nuclear family ideal. That's not what I'm pushing you into. I didn't mean to push."
"Give it a rest," Nagi scoffed.
"Okay, I am pushing. I'm doing it because I love you, Nagi. You need to do this. I'm not making you go back to high school, or stop hacking, or find yourself some cheerleader girlfriend." Crawford brushed that half fringe out of Nagi's eyes. "I was stating what I felt was the truth. I have a problem with you and him being together because of our shared past. Schuldig couldn't understand it. He's moved away from that, and he can't see the point in holding that kind of grudge. I'm trying to do the same."
Nagi dropped into silent contemplation for several seconds. His minds was whirling and clicking. Brad felt bad. Nagi was in the perfect position to guilt him into anything.
"Can Omi come and stay with us?" Nagi asked. He held his breath.
"You're supposed to say 'if I do as you ask'," Brad prompted.
"What precisely are you asking?" Nagi said slyly.
Brad was stuck for an answer. He couldn't demand that Nagi change, they'd already gone over the problems with that scenario, and if he merely asked that Nagi tried he'd make a show of effort but wouldn't bother. Nagi was trying to guilt Brad into letting Omi come to stay. The problem was, it was working.
"I want you to honestly make an effort," Brad began slowly, "to accept that your life has changed irrevocably. If you can't do that, you will find yourself unable to adapt to the changes that have taken placed, and you will sink into a worse depression than anything you have felt before and will eventually be driven to suicide."
Nagi's gaze turned inwards. "Scare tactics," he said quietly. "I'd forgotten how good you were at that."
"I don't know how I would react to the presence of Bombay in our apartment," Brad said candidly. "I'm willing to try."
"Appealing to my pride," Nagi categorised. "If you can put up with what I ask, I'd be a lesser man if I couldn't put up with what you ask.
"We'd have to move," Brad went on. This got Nagi's attention. "There's not really enough space in that apartment for four people. I wouldn't be able to stand running into the two of you all over each other everywhere."
"Four people?" Nagi raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're trying to distract me by subtly dropping hints that Michael is now a permanent fixture to our household?"
Brad blushed. Nagi's other eyebrow joined its partner.
"Perhaps you weren't," he mused. "Was that accidental?"
"He hasn't officially moved in," Brad looked uncomfortable. "It's just, well, with your disappearance I needed him around a lot. He's got his own chest of drawers in my room. He has his toiletries are in our bathroom. His cereal is in the cupboards." Brad sighed. "If you're not comfortable with him being, around, of course…" he trailed off. 'Of course' what? He couldn't ask Michael to move out, not without following him. But he couldn't deny Nagi. A rather large portion of his future happiness depended on Nagi right now. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
"Do you love him?" Nagi asked. "I've heard him say it to you, but you don't say it back. You change the subject, or stutter something vaguely affectionate, or simply don't answer. You're not just doing this out of guilt because you don't feel the same?"
There was a hard lump in Brad's throat. "I don't know," he swallowed. "It's a bit fast-"
"Excuses," Nagi told him harshly. "If you don't know, you don't love him."
Brad's eyes widened. "No," he objected. "No!"
There was a knock on the door. Both Brad and Nagi stared guiltily as Michael stepped around the thin door. He was blushing so hard it showed against his dark skin.
"I just though I should, well, mention that I, well, can hear you. Um." He stared at his feet for a moment, stealing himself, then he looked up and met Brad's eyes. "It doesn't matter to me whether you can say 'I love you' or not. I know you do."
Brad caught his breath. Nagi could feel the electricity in the room, electricity being where his talent had always focused itself the most. At least he could still feel this kind, he amused.
Brad swung his legs off the bed and in two short steps slammed Michael into the wall. He kissed Michael passionately. Michael just stood there, stunned, hands pressed against the wall because his knees had gone weak and he was terrified he'd collapse. He didn't want to do that. The kiss was too intense.
Brad broke the kiss, gasping for air. "I love you. Oh god, I love you," he moaned. He wrapped his arms around Michael and pulled him away from the wall. Michael returned the gesture, pressing their bodies together. Brad nuzzled his neck and nipped at his ear, all the while murmuring 'I love you'.
Nagi couldn't look at them. Closing his eyes he promised himself that Omi was coming to stay. He had to be.
Oh shit. What if Brad and Michael were like this the whole time? If Brad didn't want to see Omi and Nagi making out everywhere, Nagi certainly didn't want to have the fact his boyfriend was on the other side of the world rubbed in his face with every casual touch between the two older men.
Brad turned his head, briefly, and squinted at Nagi. "I'll bring you a laptop tomorrow," he panted. "Find out when they let you out of here, and arrange something with Omi."
Nagi's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Michael had one hand down the back of Brad's creased trousers. "Yes. We have to go find our hotel and have sex now."
"Don't forget to get one with a mobile Internet connection!" Nagi called out as they dragged each other out of the room. They'd be lucky to make it as far as the car before their passion overcame them.
So things were changing, Nagi thought. Michael was moving in. Omi was coming to stay. They might be moving somewhere larger, which Nagi wasn't so happy about because he was quite attached to their flat. He'd lost his powers, but well, Omi was coming to stay, he was getting a new laptop and Brad was going to be very very happy for a while to come. Nagi could use that.
When the nurse came in to check on the boy, he was sleeping with a grin on his face.