Chapter 13: Friendly Overtures – Schwarz Concerto

Schuldig opened his eyes to glaring sunlight filtering through the windows. Usually he hated mornings, hated sunlight waking him up, but today was a different matter. Like in a fairytale, the morning sun chased the bad things away. He relaxed into the softness of his bed. I'm safe, he thought.

That fragile feeling of safety shattered when the bedroom door swung open. Schuldig yelped and shot off the bed, groping madly at the nightstand. Nagi's expression didn't change a hair when he came in to the business end of a handgun. Schuldig lowered the gun with a shaky laugh. "Nagi. Didn't expect you."

"Obviously not." Nagi held up his tray and gave Schuldig a pointed look at the bed.

Schuldig slid back between the sheets and fluffed up his pillows. "What did I do to deserve breakfast in bed, Nagi?"

"Nothing. I called your boss, told him that you had the flu. He said he hopes you'll get to feeling better, and he'll see you on Monday." Nagi lifted a corner of the sheet to look at Schuldig's bandaged feet for a quick appraisal. "Stay off them, Schuldig, until they scab up." He dropped the sheet back into place.

Schuldig grabbed the sheet and flipped it back to expose his bandaged feet. "Mein Gott, Nagi, what in the hell happened?" He stared in sick fascination at his feet.

"I was hoping you could tell me." Nagi pulled up a chair to sit next to Schuldig's bedside.

Schuldig buried his hands in his hair. "I don't know. I must have been sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking?" Now Nagi showed surprise. "You've never done that before."

"I guess I wanted to try something new." To avoid having to say anything more for a few seconds, until he could get his thoughts in order, Schuldig picked up a triangle of toast and wolfed it down. It was slathered in marmalade, a preserve that made him think of Crawford. Crawford had loved marmalade, had it on toast every morning right before he read the paper.

Schuldig fell to eating until the door, which had been left ajar, swung open again. He froze, his eyes wide. Nagi was taken aback by the fear he saw in Schuldig's face. Schuldig was fearless. What had happened to him? A white form leaped up onto the bed. Jei.

The kitten mewed, then wound his way up the bed to sit and watch Schuldig eat. Nagi watched as Schuldig's expression went from fear to relief to intense annoyance. Schuldig had the habit of knocking the kitten unconscious every time it annoyed him, like a child switching a toy on or off. That had been happening more and more often nowadays.

Nagi had gotten good at reading the signs. The redhead's brow would furrow just a bit, and his eyes would narrow as he tracked the kitten's movements. Right before he dropped the animal, his lips would purse, like he was about kiss someone. Nagi had privately taken to calling that 'the goodnight kiss.' Before Schuldig could deliver the coup de grâce, Nagi diverted him.

"Is it because of the nightmares you've been having?"

Schuldig started. "What?" His gaze swung to Nagi, the kitten forgotten. Jei took the opportunity to help himself to a piece of bacon and dart out the door with his ill-gotten prize. Schuldig didn't even notice.

"The nightmares." Nagi sighed impatiently. "Don't tell me you thought I didn't know about them. You haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks."

Schuldig put a hand over his eyes, then rubbed his face tiredly. "I had hoped you hadn't. Guess I should have known better, huh?" Nagi's silence was answer enough. Schuldig's shoulders sank, and he fell back to listlessly picking at his breakfast. "I don't think it'll happen again, Nagi."

"I hope not," Nagi said, his face composed, but the snap in his tone betrayed his agitation. "It was a real pain to have to run all over Tokyo looking for you, then get you back home."

Schuldig paused and gave Nagi a curious look. "How did you get me home, Nagi? Are there witnesses I need to take care of? Tell me now, so I can do it while the memory is still fresh and before it spreads too far out."

Nagi stared down at his hands. Schuldig could see the gears turning in Nagi's head. He ferreted out the information, ignoring the pang of pain that echoed in his skull at the action. "What! Siberian knows we're here?" He put the tray aside and flung back the covers. "Why haven't you gotten us out of here, Nagi? Scheisse. They'll be here any—"

"No, they won't," Nagi told him quietly. He didn't lift his gaze from his tightly interlocked fingers.

"Why—" Schuldig gaped in shock at the next thought that ran through Nagi's head. "You talked to Bombay?! You think a friendly conversation over a—what is that? A melon torte will be enough to make Omi—Gott, you're thinking of him by his first name—is going to be enough—" Schuldig stopped dead at the next thought, wound down, collapsing on the bed. "You told Omi that we were no longer in Schwarz?"

Nagi nodded. "It seemed right."

"It seemed right? What part of that seemed right to you?"

Omi said he wished that we could be friends, but because we worked for different—"

"I got it, I got it," Schuldig said. "Because you're Schwarz and he's Weiß, it was impossible. And this is where you informed him that we are no longer Schwarz. Then he says, great, then we don't have a reason to fight anymore, and you believed him." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe there's a grain of truth there. Then again, maybe Bombay is keeping quiet about us for his own reasons. 'Friends' aren't for people like us, Nagi."

"But I thought we were supposed to be normal. Getting normal lives. Normal people have friends." Nagi sounded faintly petulant.

"But we—But Bombay isn't. . . oh hell." Schuldig felt his headache, which had been steadily worsening as he used his talent, reach new levels. "Look, Nagi. Even if Omi did want to be friends, do you really think that he would go against Kritiker for you? That's what this is going to come down to, you know. Even if Siberian doesn't run home to tell his owners who he helped drag home, they will eventually find out, and then things will be well and truly screwed."

"But if Omi tells them we're no threat—"

"Don't be so damned naïve, kid! Do you think that Kritiker is going to believe you? Hell, I bet Omi didn't believe you!"

"Then what's the point, Schuldig?" Nagi asked, voice rising. "If we can't escape our past, why are we doing this, struggling with things we hate? My school, your job. What's the point? At least with Crawford, we knew what we were good for. Now look at us!" Nagi glared. "I wish I had stayed with Crawford!" With that, he stalked out of the room.

Schuldig stared at the ceiling. "Ja. I do too," he told the empty room. Well, the kid did have a point. They were supposed to be trying to have normal lives. Normal people faced the risks of deception and betrayal with even fewer defenses than they had. True, normal people didn't have to deal with possible attacks by groups of assassins, but where a normal would be dead in that scenario, Nagi and Schuldig had a definite edge over the assassins.

He rolled his eyes. What was he worried about? Nagi was right. He needed to try and make friends, learn what normal life was like. In that context, was Omi really that bad of a choice for a first attempt? Nagi wouldn't have to keep his past a secret from Omi. The two of them had similar interests, were close in age, maturity and intelligence.

Besides, even if Bombay really did betray them, Nagi would at least learn a few things from the lesson. They could take care of anything that Kritiker could throw at them. Esset was another matter, but currently they didn't have to worry about them. As long as the organization was in disarray and they kept their heads down, they were low on the priority list.

That is, assuming that Crawford had even told them that Nagi and Schuldig were no longer members of Schwarz. Schuldig thought about that. Would Crawford do that? Would he keep silent? If Schuldig ever was tempted to call anyone a friend, it would be Crawford. Unlike Omi and Nagi, there were differences in age and maturity, and yes, even intelligence, much as Schuldig hated to admit it.

But they always had enjoyed what Schuldig could only call a feeling of friendship, even closeness. They had joked around on the job, relaxed together, and on a few memorable occasions, gotten drunk together. They had complemented each other, dovetailing together into a seamless unit. Schwarz was a close-knit team. However, there always was a special unity between Crawford and Schuldig.

Schuldig snorted when he realized where his thoughts had drifted. Who was he kidding? Crawford was business all the way. He could relax with Schuldig, but he would never put himself at risk for their sake. The minute they had left, Crawford had probably informed his superiors that Schuldig and Nagi were AWOL. It was just wishful dreaming to think otherwise.

Schuldig shook his head, shaking loose his preoccupation with Crawford. He had more pressing things to worry about at the moment. He wasn't a man that tried to evaluate the future. That was Brad's job. But he did need to apply himself to matters at present. Like a sulking boy in the other room. He sent out a tendril of thought. /Nagi./

/Leave me alone./

/I can't. My feet. I think you need to look at them./ His feet felt fine, but Schuldig was never above using a half-truth when it suited him. They didn't hurt, but Nagi did need to look at them. He had dislodged some of the protective wrappings during the whole episode with Nagi.

There was a long pause, then a silent confirmation. Schuldig hummed a half- remembered song as he waited for Nagi. He had learned a while back one of the best ways to get to Nagi was to make the boy feel that he was needed. Schuldig was sure that it was strongly tied in with the kid's abandonment issues. Whatever the cause, it gave him the leverage needed to get Nagi calmed down and back within talking range. Schuldig's head hurt too much for him to expend the energy in a mental conversation.

Nagi entered, holding a new tray, this one with medical supplies. He wordlessly handed the new tray to Schuldig to hold and briefly left to whisk the old tray back to the kitchen. When he returned, he took the tray and got right to the business at hand. Nagi's face was expressionless as he examined the damage. However, Schuldig could sense the boy softening against his will at the sight of Schuldig's maimed feet.

"How were you able to ignore this?" Nagi asked softly.

Schuldig picked at the bed sheet. This was Nagi. He could tell him, even if he could tell no one else. "Nightmare. I dreamed I was being chased."

Nagi stared at the redhead, but no more information was forthcoming. Schuldig would extend his version of an olive branch and explain how he allowed his feet to get that way, but he didn't feel the need to talk about the other things that had happened, the other dreams. When it was obvious that Schuldig wasn't going to tell him anything else, Nagi sighed softly and went back to his examination.

Schuldig stared at the ceiling again. He didn't need to tell Nagi how much some of those dreams disturbed him, even frightened him. Schuldig also didn't tell the boy the thing that frightened him the most was that despite the damage he had done to his feet, he still didn't feel the pain.

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A/N:
Mein Gott – "My God" in German. Scheisse – "shit" in German.
LoneCayt - I'm with you, believe it or not. I can't imagine Crawford getting drunk (on a regular basis). I think that this binge kinda snuck up on him.
Yanagi-sen – You're welcome. I feel bad for Nagi too (not that you can tell, from the things I write), as well as Schu. As for Ken, that's the way I see him—as a nice guy.
Hisoka – The 'whys' of Schu's actions will all be explained later (hopefully).
Swtjemz – Thanks for your sweet review. Encouragement always makes me happy.
FungiFungusRayne – I thought that Schu would make a great HR director. I'd hate to work with him, tho. And your wish is my command. You'll see more Omi and Nagi soon.
Nony – Heh. We'll discuss what you had to say later...