Chapter 9: Drinks After Work

It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.
-Sally Kempton


Schuldig picked up his mug and drained it, setting it down with a heavy thump on the bar. The bartender knew this to be a signal to get him another. He had been glad to find a bar in Tokyo that had a good selection of German beers, including his favorite lager. Two of the members of Weiß were at a nearby table, enjoying a few drinks themselves.

As a matter of fact, that was the other main reason he had made this bar a regular stop; he knew that occasionally the older members of Weiß showed up here after missions. That was when they were at their most delectable. Normally, he would have been more than happy to play with his old prey. That was before his life had turned upside down.

Schuldig watched them resentfully. Why did they all survive? What made them think that they were the 'good guys' here? The tall blond and the stoic redhead were acting as if they were ordinary people having a friendly drink after work. Even the normally icy Ran was sitting there with a small smile. It was a ghost of one, but it was there. What did he have to smile about? He had no reason to ever smile again! Schuldig'd had a hand in that. He hated to see his work so casually undone.

The buzzing in his head swelled, grew more insistent. It had been building all day, and not even alcohol could dull the annoying murmur. He massaged his temple, trying to ease the ache. It would probably work better if he could reach inside his skull and massage his brain. There were days his 'gift' was nothing of the sort. More 'curse.' He tossed several bills on the bar and staggered to the bathroom.

He maintained his composure until the bathroom door swung shut, then he bolted for the nearest stall. He threw up until he had the dry heaves, then forced himself to stop before he did any damage. Yeah. Some gift. His stomach was in knots, taking some of the attention away from his pounding head.

He flushed the toilet and went out to the sinks, where he washed off his face, washed out his mouth. He hadn't had an episode like that in a while. Another thing to damn Crawford and Farfarello for. Right now, he could cheerfully kill them both. If one of them wasn't already dead, that is. As for the other. . . . "Damn you, Crawford."

The jag of anger was accompanied by a swell of nausea. He gritted his teeth, breathing hard. His stomach flipped, flipped again, then settled reluctantly. The voices were getting worse. "Go away, damnit," he breathed raggedly. "None of you are me. Get out of my head!" Two minds, approaching the door. A pair of young men, looking for a quick place to do the nasty. He savagely lashed out at them with his mind, making them reel and recoil from the door. They faded, then everyone else faded, too.

A faint hum started, making the bathroom look harsh, too white. But the voices were gone. He dipped his head in relief, sagging until his fiery locks touched the sink he had a death-grip on.

"Guilty ye are, and guilty ye'll always be. Tis God's punishment for the wicked."

Schuldig sucked in a breath, shocked. "Farf?"

"Aye."

Schuldig straightened, looked up. Farfarello looked at him with detached interest, like a lazy cat would watch a goldfish. "Scheisse," Schuldig said. "I'm hallucinating."

"If it pleases ye. Why aren't ye playing with yer wee Weiß pets, Schuldig?"

"Head hurts too much. Too tired."

"Liar."

"Fick dich, Farf. What do you know?" Schuldig turned on the water again and washed his hands.

"Playin' at being one of the flock, eh? How long before ye become a sheep like the rest, Schuldig? Already ye be wearin' the suits." Farfarello tilted his head appraisingly. "Ye look like Crawford."

"Yeah?" Schuldig flicked a glance at Farfarello, looked away again. He didn't want to think about Crawford.

"Crawford ran off and left ye, I see. Left the two of ye like lambs to the wolves. Miss him, do ye? The demon's upset because he no longer can worship his God. He's left, taking the beloved cathedral with him." Farfarello tapped the side of his head. "His soaring stone cathedral, his mind. The one where ye so want to worship, to sacrifice yer soul."

"You're nuts, Farf. Always have been, always will be." Schuldig turned off the water, then grabbed a couple of paper towels out of the dispenser. He dried off his hands with quick, impatient movements.

Farfarello watched with his single eye, intent as a crow. "Have I upset ye, Schuldig? Or are ye upset because Crawford's not here anymore, to look at ye approvingly and call ye a demon?" Farfarello shifted closer, circling like a shark, until Schuldig could almost feel him brush his skin. For reasons he couldn't understand, Schuldig instinctively cringed away.

Something lightly brushed his cheek. A strand of hair? A scarred, pale fingertip? Schuldig reared his head back. "Back off, Farf," he growled warningly.

Farf chuckled in low, smoky amusement. "Oh, I'll be gettin' closer still, Schuldig."

Schuldig held his ground, but balled up his fists. "Last warning, Farfarello."

There! That touch again! Fury roared through him, making his vision turn red and blind. With a wordless, feral roar, Schuldig swung out, connecting hard. He heard something crack, but Farfarello just laughed. Schuldig felt something twinge in his head, then blackness replaced the red.

---

Aya stepped nimbly aside when the bathroom door swung open, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the man that was coming out. Violet eyes met blue. Aya's eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. He was opening his mouth to say something when Schwarz's telepath grinned. Something was wrong with that grin. It wasn't anything that Aya could place, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He stepped back and let the other man pass.

It didn't take long for the telepath to cut through the crowd and go out the door. Aya glowered after him, then frowned to himself. His frown deepened when he looked inside the bathroom and saw the shattered mirror, the blood smeared on the shards. Mastermind must not have liked what he saw there. Aya didn't blame him. He didn't like the look of the man himself. Aya wove through the crush back to his table. He didn't do it as quickly as the telepath had, but he did it nearly as efficiently. Yohji arched a brow at his return. "I thought you were getting the next round."

"I just saw Mastermind." Aya slid into the booth, facing Yohji.

Yohji's other brow joined the first. "No kidding? Did he steal the drinks on your way back? Did you come to get me to help you recover our precious sake?"

Aya's glare could have melted steel, but it didn't so much as wilt a curl on Yohji's head. "No. He was acting. . . " Aya tried to think of a way to explain that brief, baffling encounter. "Strange."

"He IS strange. Schwarz equals freaks, remember?" Yohji lit a cigarette, then tapped his bare wrist, the one that his watch normally sat on. "We're off the clock, Aya. No Abyssinian and Balinese here. Just Aya and everyone's favorite Yohji Kudou, enjoying a drink together."

"Hn."

"Don't 'hn' me. God knows why I put up with you."

"Because Omi's too young, and Ken only goes to sports bars."

"That's my Aya. Literal as always."

----

A/N:
Scheisse – "shit" in German.
Fick dich – "fuck you" or "fuck yourself" in German.

Managed another chapter. How, I don't know, with my time schedule as it is. Yes, I know. Schu has a really bad potty mouth. Well, I guess if you are looking for it, chapters 7, 8 and 9 have my O/N, C/S and A/Y hints. One day, I WILL write more than hints. Will, will, will! BTW, yes, it's official. I will be moving. Gah. Ch. 10 will probably take a while because of this. Damn real life. Damn moving. Thanks, Hisoka! Drunk!Schu and Drunk!Brad amuses me, too.