Note: This is the overdue continuation of the test chapter of "Paranoid". Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's too early to tell where this story is heading, we'll just see how it goes from here. The focus on this chapter will be the interaction between Schuldich and Ken. So far they're only talking, nothing more.

"Paranoid"

I've seen this pain before

A story by Wai and Aki

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz (c) Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss etc. The song "Paranoid" is by Tantric.

The first thing he saw was the ceiling and he remembered thinking how utterly normal it was. Then again, ceilings in general are pretty normal. And boring. The first thing he felt—and he winced when he truly felt it—was the huge lump on the back of his head. He groaned slightly as he placed a hand on the back of his head and then tried to convince himself that the bump wasn't as bad as it felt. Because right about then, it felt as if his whole head would explode because of the pain. It was worse than a hangover at the moment.

Slowly the fog that had settled on his mind seemed to lift. And he finally recalled how he got out. Or rather, how he found freedom, only to be recaptured, though this time it was by a lesser evil.

It's awfully hard to try and break out of a cell when half of your mind is gone. He used half of his powers to block the pain, blocking all sensation altogether. It wasn't a walk in the park and it certainly didn't feel good either. It was like swimming in thick soup, or maybe it was drowning. But at about that time, he could no longer think clearly. Think of it as a natural anesthetic. Except this one doesn't put you to sleep, but you sure have a hell of a time trying to concentrate on breaking a lock.

Breaking a lock on a huge metal door, too.

Che. They really want him to stay pretty badly. If he hadn't endured about days of beatings, he might have been flattered. Unfortunately, he left his good humor, as well as his breakfast, on the floor of the interrogation room days ago.

After being used as a punching bag for...how long has it been? Fuck, he can't even tell, now. Then again, he had no clue of his whereabouts either. For all he knew, he could be in some deserted island off in the Pacific Ocean somewhere. Too bad, really. He forgot to bring his suntan lotion.

He cursed as yet another attempt to open the door failed. His hands were bleeding from trying to break the door. He watched with disinterest as blood from his fingers ran down his arm. Slowly, he sank to the ground, resting his head on his arm, trying to clear his mind slightly. But by clearing his mind, he was letting his control over his sensations slip and that meant the pain finally kicked in. He gritted his teeth as old wounds and new let their presence be known. And other injuries, bruises, began to throb rhythmically. At least this way he won't fall asleep.

There were noises, he realized, coming from the outside. He didn't even look up when the door opened, too weary to even grin at his captors. It wasn't until his arm was grabbed that he growled, ready to hit the fool he tried to touch him. The snarl faded when his eyes widened and mouth dropped open.

Of all the things he expected, a glaring Siberian was definitely not on his list.

But hell, it was better than the idiots he was left with. That was probably why—he concluded—he collapsed into his once-enemy's arms and left the conscious world altogether.

He might have heard a distinct "Shit!" but it could just be his mind playing tricks on him.

"I see you're awake." Came a dry voice to his right. Schuldich sat up, immediately regretting his actions and doubled over, clutching his stomach. There was a frustrated sigh, before he was shoved back on the bed. While his body screamed in agony, he looked to the side and faced a scowling Siberian.

"Sheesh. I don't get why I get stuck with the babysitting job." The brunet muttered, sitting back down on the sofa at the corner of the room. He was glaring at Schuldich again. Schuldich could feel the heat of the stare and realized that if the brunet were truly emitting heat waves, he'd be ash right about now.

The telepath watched Ken from the corner of his eyes while trying to pull himself together. He made sure that he had enough strength before he sat up and then got himself out of bed. Ken stared at him incredulously as he sauntered towards the door.

Seeing that the telepath was ready to walk out of the room, Ken finally spoke up in alarm, "What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" The German replied curtly. "Not exactly the brightest crayon in the box are you?"

Ken narrowed his eyes, growling, and drew out the gun tucked in the folds of his jacket. "Sorry, I've got my orders and that's to make sure you don't step outside this room."

Schuldich paused, just as he reached for the doorknob. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Ken, a smirk on his face. Never mind his pounding headache. Never mind his injuries. "Your leader's orders or Kritiker's orders?"

"It doesn't matter. Orders are orders." Ken wanted to clobber the stubborn telepath. The idiot looked about ready to collapse yet he wanted to pull a stunt like this. Ken is never one for confrontations and he really didn't want to stain the carpet with blood, because he honestly would shoot. Finally, he sighed wearily. "Look, I don't feel like killing today, so why don't you cut me a break and follow the rules, OK? Humor me."

"You 'don't feel like killing today'?" Schuldich repeated, looking more than amused. Apparently by this time escape became second priority, which is probably a good thing, because his muscles were starting to spasm, even though he kept his cool. "How can you say that? You're an assassin aren't you?"

"It's my day off." Muttered Ken as he sat back down again. The German chuckled and shook his head, watching Ken with renewed interests.

"Alright then. I'll follow the rules." Schuldich said and he sat down on the chair at the opposite side of the room. Ken's eyes widened slightly. He was prepared to call for back up and have his afternoon of peace ruined because of the Schwarz telepath. This wasn't the reaction he expected.

"Just like that?" Ken asked incredulously. "Why?"

"You amuse me." Schuldich replied, shrugging. He didn't want to add, "And I probably won't make it very far anyway." Instead he added, "Besides," He paused, making sure to smile sultrily at the younger man. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for this."

Ken felt his cheeks burn, but managed to keep control of his voice as he asked levelly, "Why the hell are you being so nice?"

The telepath shrugged again and replied calmly, "It's my day off." Ken really wished Kritiker didn't want the telepath alive, his sarcasm was starting to piss him off. Maybe he could say that the telepath tried to escape? After all, that wasn't a complete lie.

A chuckle from the man on the bed startled him out of his thoughts. And it also reminded him that the German is a telepath and therefore, was able to hear his thoughts. Groaning, Ken tried to think of other things besides trying to kill the man he was supposed to be guarding.

"Why were you in that cell anyway?" Ken asked. It had been hours since they last spoke and the silence was starting to unnerve him. "I mean, how is it possible that anyone could capture all of you at once?"

Schuldich didn't answer immediately, half-wondering about that himself. Ken was about to give up on that line of questioning when the telepath finally spoke up. "They read us."

"What?"

"They read our every move. Predicted what we would do." Schuldich said, voice quiet, very unlike him.

Ken frowned, not understanding. "Crawford's a psychic isn't he? I thought he could predict the future?"

"He can. And he did, he saw it all."

"Then why didn't he-"

"I don't know." The German said harshly, glaring at the younger male from his corner of the room. "I don't fucking KNOW. He didn't say anything until the very last minute and there wasn't even enough time for us to think what he meant when they had us surrounded." There was frustration and anger in every word. He didn't understand why Crawford didn't warn them sooner. Why the American didn't even react when he was shot...

"Do you have any idea where they might be?" Ken asked carefully.

"If I knew I wouldn't be here now, would I?" The German snapped.

"Take it easy! I'm only asking!"

"No, I won't take it easy!" Schuldich shouted, getting to his feet. "Why don't you see how it feels like to have your team mates separated from you and not knowing whether or not they're still alive? You see how it's like and tell me if you'd take it fucking easy!" By the time he finished his sentence, he suddenly realized he had crossed the room to where Ken was sitting and currently had his face inches away from the younger male.

But to his surprise, Ken looked calm and collected. His brown eyes perfectly clear as he looked back at the telepath.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." The brunet said simply. And with those simple words, Schuldich felt as if all his strength was taken away and he simply crashed on the chair next to Ken's. "I think that I would react the same way you did, if anyone separated me from Omi, Aya and Youji." To the telepath's surprise, the younger man laughed bitterly. "Actually no, knowing me, I'd go on a panic attack and starts attacking everything I see, just to find them again." He paused. "Quite an addition to my sins." He added in a whisper.

"Don't talk about sins when you've hardly done a thing." The telepath spoke up.

"You call killing nothing do you?"

"At least you do it for good, though if you ask me, that's a pretty boring life." Schuldich said with a smirk. "It's so much more interesting to fight for the bad guys. Besides, I live up to my name and reputation."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Why do you have to live up to your name and reputation? Can't you choose what you want to do? I mean do you really want to work for Este? Did you really enjoy working for Takatori so much?"

"Hey kid, have you ever lived in the streets?" The telepath asked.

"What's that got to do with-"

"That's where the real world is, not this romantic dream of knights who banish the evils that lurk the streets...you think what you do is wrong because you kill? Well I'll tell you what, kid, that's not how the world works." He paused for a moment, laughing dryly. "Just because we have a justice system doesn't necessarily mean that it works. It may be considered wrong in theory, but killing happens every fucking day and it's goddamn joke. People kill, people die, end of story. What's even more hilarious are the idiots who try to uphold the law. They're even worse than the criminals they put away." Schuldich's gaze rested on Ken once more, eyes so fierce and determined that Ken couldn't do anything other than stare at the man. "Just because you're assassins doesn't mean that you're not good people." He stood up, walking back to the bed. Though before he sat down, he turned to look at Ken.

"And just because we work for the bad guys, doesn't mean we're as bad as them."

Ken gave a smirk. "Let me guess, you're worse?"

"Not all the time." Schuldich replied, smirking right back.

He was confined to a world of darkness. Someway or another, his captors had his powers figured out. He can't move things that he can't see. He was used to it now, the darkness.

It was terrifying at first, a blanket of absolute black with no source of light in sight. They had his arms tied over his head, shackled to the bed. That was all he did, day in and day out, lying there on that bed. Moving very little, because that all he was allowed.

It didn't make sense really, because the drug they constantly used on him didn't allow him the luxury of mobility anymore. Maybe letting his head move from side to side, but he could barely feel his arms and legs anymore.

Maybe it was for the best, because if he did, they would be cramping like crazy.

His muscles would wear away soon, if he wasn't allowed to move for much longer. And perhaps, that was for the best too. He wouldn't be able to move at all and they would stop drugging him. And maybe, before he killed himself, he'd make THEM pay too, with their lives.

He hated the room. Hated the darkness. The only thing he had to look forward too was when they raise the blinds. At least then light would pour into the room. The blindfold would still cover his eyes, but at least then he'd still be able to see the light. The light always found a way to hit his closed lids somehow.

Or maybe it was just because he was used to it. Used to hearing the beeping that would trigger the metallic curtains. That soft beep, a sound so meaningless to everyone else, was the sound of freedom to him.

He craved that sound, knowing that for a little while at least he was given a glimpse of the outside world. Or at least, the outside world was given a glimpse of him.

Sound...

Funny how the body adjusts so quickly. With one sense gone, all the others seem to be sharper, more alert. He relied on his hearing most of the time. From the sound of his own heartbeat

thump thump, thump thump

To the sound of them walking around outside.

click clack, click clack.

Heels. High heels, no doubt. He couldn't imagine why his captors were mostly women. He felt a sardonic smile spread across his lips while thinking about it, yet it fell away slowly and quietly.

Lost in his train of thoughts, he failed to hear the footsteps drawing near. Didn't hear it until it was too late.

Swish.

'God no.' He thought, hearing his heart beating faster than before.

thumpthumpthumpthump

There was a sharp whistle as something flew in the air. The dart didn't make a sound as it punctured his skin, but hecertainly did. A strangled sound, a mix between a moan and a...curse? A name?

He didn't know anymore.

But he did hear himself whimper as he felt his consciousness fade and those arms wrapping themselves around him, as he was pulled deeper into oblivion.

-------------Chapter 2 – End---------------

Hopefully no one's too OOC. And much apologies for any errors. Review? Oh and for anyone worried about Crawford's condition: He's alive.