Chapter Sixteen

Bradley Crawford was bored out of his everliving skull.

He was in a room that was about ten feet in all directions, and painted a dull grey that was simultaneously dreary but easy on the eyes. He was glad it wasn't white. He would want sunglasses or something, and he didn't have them. All he had, precisely, was the pants and T-shirt he'd been wearing underneath his suit when they'd picked him up. These had been meticulously searched, of course.

Also, after three days, even though he wasn't doing much, he wanted to change them. So he had taken them off except for his underwear, folded them neatly, and placed them in the corner. What did he care if he was naked? It wasn't as if anybody could see him.

He knew that there was a camera somewhere in the room, but it was cleverly hidden, and he hadn't yet managed to locate it. Other than that, the room was entirely empty. Three times a day, someone escorted him to the restroom under armed guard, and that was the only time he ever saw outside of his cell. Meals were served in the cell, under supervision. Brad found this amusing. He didn't think even he could manage to kill someone with a plastic spoon.

And that was all he got, too. No fork, and certainly not a knife. He ate everything with a spoon, or with no silverware at all.

He had absolutely no access to his power, which he had expected. He hadn't seen anyone higher than a grunt since he arrived, which he had not expected. He was somewhat comforted and somewhat alarmed. Comforted because, if they hadn't killed him yet, they weren't going to. Alarmed because if they had only wanted him out of the way, this had far more to do with Schuldig than it had to do with him.

Still, it was maddening, not knowing what was going on, not being able to plan. His whole life had revolved around the fact that he was an anal retentive bastard. Without the slightest bit of information or the ability to plan, he was rather unhappy.

With nothing else to do, he exercised. It passed the time. He was going to be built by the time he finally got out, if he ever did. Maybe Schuldig would appreciate it.

He was worried about Schuldig, not only because he knew Esstet was planning something that involved him, but because he knew how unstable the telepath really was. Although Schuldig tried to keep that hidden from most people, since Brad was the one who had pulled him back to sanity in the first place, that made it very difficult to hide it from him. Schuldig didn't particularly mind; Brad had always been the solid rock he had used to ground himself on, both mentally and emotionally.

For a few seconds, he thought he heard Schuldig's voice, then he shook himself firmly. Thinking about him had called it to mind, that was all. The isolation was bound to get to him; his mind was playing tricks on him. That was all.

Besides, it was simply impossible. Even if Schuldig could reach all the way across the world -- and that was a big if -- he was in a room that was shielded from Talents of all sorts. There was no way Schuldig could reach him; the Esstet superiors would have seen to that. They knew better than to underestimate Schuldig.

Yet there it was, still, that nagging voice in the back of his mind, mumbling something in German about having a headache.

Well, it couldn't hurt . . .

//Schuldig?// he asked, being careful to send the mental thought loudly and clearly.

There was a pause. The mumbling stopped, and Brad got a sense of someone listening.

//Schuldig?// he tried again. //Is that you?//

There was another pause, and this time Brad thought he caught the faintest sense of a mental jerk to attention. //Crawford?//

//It's you, isn't it?// Brad asked, scarcely able to believe it. He gave the thread that was Schuldig's thoughts a slight tug, trying to draw the telepath towards him. Although his telepathic ability was very limited, Brad knew enough about the technique to guide him.

Schuldig was tugged along, and his responses were slow, almost dazed. //Yeah. At least for the moment.//

//How can I hear you?// Brad asked. //I thought they would have blocked us.//

//Maybe, I dunno,// Schuldig replied, not terribly sensibly. //Sort of drifting. I got sick of trying to keep myself in my own head for a while.//

//I'm not surprised,// Brad remarked dryly.

//About what?// Schuldig asked, losing the thread of the conversation. He tried to settle himself more, to keep himself in one place. It was easier than he thought it would be; the familiarity of Brad's mind acted like a magnet after all the aimless wandering his mind had been doing.

//Not surprised that you got sick of trying,// Brad clarified.

//It was worse for a while,// Schuldig said. He had forgotten that Brad had no idea what had been happening. It was simply that Brad always knew what was going on, and it didn't occur to Schuldig that he was going to have to explain it all to the imprisoned precog.

//What's been happening?// Brad took the initiative to ask. //Are you coherent enough to tell me?//

//Yeah.// A slight pause. //That's right, you don't know.//

//No. I'm in a shielded room. I can't use my powers.// Brad chose, for the moment, to not ask Schuldig how the hell he had gotten around that. With the telepath's limited training and tendency to ignore rules that would bind the most powerful of Talented, he figured that Schuldig probably didn't know anyway.

//We're still working,// Schuldig said. //The contract you picked for us. They haven't said much.//

Brad assumed that the 'they' in that sentence was Esstet. He was relieved that their superiors weren't immediately demanding anything of Schuldig, but that also made him worried. Were they planning something? Well, that was a stupid question; Esstet was always planning something. But why hadn't they approached Schuldig with it yet? Were they just waiting for the time away from Brad to wear the team down? //How are you and Nagi doing?//

//He's scared,// Schuldig replied, which didn't surprise Brad particularly. //And I'm . . . I'm not sure about me. I'm not even sure where I am sometimes.//

//Haven't your shields been holding up?// Brad asked, frowning.

//I'm just so tired,// Schuldig replied, as if this answer made perfect sense.

Brad frowned. //I'm sorry about all this,// he said, sincerely.

//Not your fault.// There was a long pause while Schuldig tried to gather himself together. //I miss you.//

Brad fought against his initial answer of an overeager 'really?' for a few seconds. He didn't particularly like the way his heart thudded against his ribs when Schuldig said that, so he took refuge in being an asshole as usual. //I suggest you get used to it. I don't think I'll be joining you again any time soon.//

//It won't matter,// Schuldig replied, feeling quite dejected and not really noticing Brad's attitude. //Soon I won't notice anyway.//

//What do you mean, you won't notice?// Brad asked suspiciously.

//I can't keep all this together,// Schuldig replied, trying to not sound pathetic. //I can't even keep inside my own head.//

Brad was unsure of how to reply to that, given that Schuldig seemed to be right. //You seem fairly lucid now,// he settled on. //For you, anyway.//

//I'm trying really hard,// Schuldig said. //Where are you?//

//I don't know. I think Germany.//

//Oh. That's really far away.// There was a pause while Schuldig tried to collect himself enough to take stock of the distance and remember it, so he would be able to find Brad again if he needed or wanted to.

//Yes, it is,// Brad said, unncessarily. //But I'm not sure of it. All I know is that the guards speak German, which isn't necessarily proof of anything.// Especially given that most of Esstet's members were German, or had at least been trained in Germany, so every member spoke it.

//Well, maybe I can find you again,// Schuldig said, hopefully. He added, not seeming to realize that this was on a different subject entirely, //Yohji has been staying with us.// Fortunately for Brad, he seemed to have forgotten for the moment that he was annoyed at Brad for setting him up with Weiss.

//Really?// Brad asked, surprised.

There was a brief mental affirmative, in which Brad got the general idea that Yohji had been sleeping at the apartment for the past few nights. //I needed someone there,// Schuldig added.

//I'm glad you have someone,// Brad said, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had set it up specifically so Schuldig would.

There was a brief pause, while Schuldig considered this. For a moment, he almost remembered that he was irritated with Brad about this, but then it was gone. His mind skipped a track and he abruptly changed subjects again. //Do you know what they want from us?//

//No. I don't.//

Schuldig reflected briefly that Brad had to be quite pissed off about this, because Brad always knew everything. //I don't understand what they're after. We're going to be a useless team soon.//

//I don't know,// Brad repeated, frustrated.

Unsure of what to offer to help, Schuldig asked, //You want me to poke around at the other people here?//

//Sure,// Brad said, then added hastily, //If you'll be able to find me again.// The last thing he wanted, as selfish as it was, was to be separated from his teammates again. Particularly from Schuldig.

//I think so . . .// Schuldig carefully reached out further, leaving himself a mental tie to Brad. He had no real concept of what he was doing, or the fact that the distance he was achieving was impossible for any other telepath in Esstet. The mental leapfrog he was playing seemed completely natural to him. If he could reach someone ten miles away, he could connect to them and then reach ten miles further.

He slipped from mind to mind, leaving the tether tied securely to Brad's mind. He found lots of German, thoughts of guarding, interest in the prisoner, but nothing important or useful.

About ten minutes passed, then Schuldig slid back into Brad's mind. //Boring. They're all boring.//

//Imagine being locked into a small white room with nothing to do and then you'll know what being bored is like,// Brad said dryly.

//Don't they at least give you books or something?// Schuldig asked.

//No. They don't underestimate me, unfortunately. No books. Not even paperbacks.//

//That sucks,// Schuldig replied.

//I know.//

//If I try I bet I can set up our link again,// Schuldig said, referring to the perpetual awareness he usually kept of all the members of Schwarz. In this case, it would also allow Brad to contact him if necessary. //Would that help any?//

//It would. If nothing else, you can keep me updated. But don't stretch yourself too thin.// Brad did not seriously think that Schuldig would adhere to this statement. Schuldig was always stretching himself too thin, and a situation as strange as this would certainly not help.

As expected, Schuldig gave a little mental laugh. //Too late for that,// he replied. He set the link up as it had always been, casually ducking under the mental blocks and guards that Esstet had put up to prevent this.

Noting this, Brad said softly, almost to himself, //I think I know why they want to keep you and Nagi alive. You're more powerful than ever they realize.//

//What?// Schuldig asked. He hadn't really been thinking about what he was doing, and it certainly hadn't occurred to him that it shouldn't be possible.

//You shouldn't be able to do that,// Brad clarified. //Esstet set up those blocks.//

//Oh.// Schuldig thought about this, well and truly baffled at what Brad was talking about. In his mind, what he did made perfect sense. //But I know you. Your mind pulls at me.//

There was a long mental silence while Brad tried to think, tried to figure out what all this could possibly have to do with Esstet's grand plan. //I'll have to think about this a little more. Let me know if anything else happens, okay?//

//Sure. Just gimme a shout if you need something,// Schuldig said, taking Brad's comment as a dismissal. His absence seemed a lot less important now that they were mentally connected again, although he knew that it wasn't going to steady him on a day-to-day basis.

//Are you tired?// Brad asked, sounding hesitant. //Do you have to go?//

//I can stay,// Schuldig said. //It's easier to be with you, 'cause I know you best.//

//All right.// Brad paused. //Thank you.//

^^^^

Schuldig was unhappy. After two weeks of trying to deal with Farferello, keep Nagi upright, and pretend he was a competent team leader, he was worn very thin. He wanted nothing more than a few drinks, but with his shields in the state they were in, he didn't dare go out to any bars. He'd probably fall over before even getting inside.

So as much as he wanted a drink, he hadn't had any. He didn't want to get drunk at home, because Nagi really didn't need to see him falling apart. That wasn't leaving him with a lot of options. When Yohji invited him over, he leapt upon the opportunity like a starving man on rice. Yohji offered to buy the liquor. Schuldig proclaimed his undying love and hopped in the car.

He hoped that Yohji didn't mind he was going to be acting weird. His shields were shot to hell -- stretching all the way to Germany to talk to Brad had only made them worse. He was feeding off of everyone around him, and usually in a manner that made absolutely no sense.

He reached Yohji's at about half past nine, having regretfully left Nagi with Farferello for the night. He hoped that the albino would be on his best behavior, although there was certainly no guarantee of that. Nagi had been armed with a tranquilizer, not that Farferello would be able to hurt the telekinetic as long as he was awake. Schuldig knew damn well that Nagi would sedate Farferello whether or not it was against his wishes before he slept in the same apartment with him.

Yohji opened the door at his knock and stood back to let him in, blinking in surprise. Although Schuldig had never been particularly meticulous about his physical apperance, Yohji had never seen the German looking so simply awful before. His skin was pale, which only amplified the dark circles underneath his eyes. His hair was loose and tangled; the headband was not doing its usual job of holding it back very well at all. His clothes were normal, but somehow dishevelled. The only word that Yohji could come up with was that Schudig looked incredibly unstrung.

"Geez, you look awful," Yohji said. He wouldn't normally have said it, but in Schuldig's current state, he suspected the telepath would hear him anyway.

Schuldig blinked at him for a minute, then roughly pawed his hair out of his face, trying to straighten it. He pondered this statement. "Yeah, I think I do," he finally said.

Yohji shut the door behind him and ushered Schuldig inside, steering him towards the closest chair. He had known that Schuldig was going to be a mess, and he only hoped that he was prepared to deal with it. "You want a drink?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mmm," Schuldig said. "Drink. Hard liquor? Liquor seems to be hard to find."

"Hard to find?" Yohji asked, pulling out the bottle of sake he had gotten for the occasion.

"But then again, so are lots of things," Schuldig said, looking off to one side, as if he was talking to someone else. "She's missing her left shoe. It was here a moment ago." He shook himself slightly and focused back on the question about the liquor. "Yeah. There's none at home."

Yohji poured him a very generous drink, then a smaller one for himself. "Schu, you're not making any sense," he informed the redhead.

For the moment, Schuldig had tracked back to the correct conversation. "I'm trying," he said. He waved a hand near his head. "But it gets all jumbled. Like laundry or sandpaper. Making things thinner." His eyes went vague, then he abruptly put his index finger in his mouth and bit down hard. "Sorry about that."

Yohji blinked at him. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, then grabbed on Schuldig's finger, seeing that the German was still gnawing on it. "Stop that, you're hurting yourself."

Schuldig let him, noting detachedly that he had left definite toothmarks on his finger. "I don't know. I mean, I figure . . . figure it out." He shook his head. "I figure there must be something, but I don't know what. Drink?"

"It's right in front of you, Schu," Yohji said patiently. "And there's more where it came from." Having no idea how to deal with this, Yohji was just hoping liquor would mellow him out some.

"Right. How did I miss that? You remember pouring it." Schuldig picked it up and swallowed it down in one swig. "Drugs, now that would be the ticket." He slumped. "But he'd get mad. She found her shoe. Shoe, Schu." He giggled slightly. Everything was starting to seem terribly amusing. "I'm a sneaker."

"You're not a sneaker. And I wouldn't advise drugs, either." Despite this, Yohji poured him more liquor.

"But you always call me Schu. I mean . . . shoe. Sneaker. Better than penny loafer." Schuldig picked up the glass and downed the new portion.

Yohji took Schuldig's chin between his fingers. "Schu. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Schuldig's eyes drifted closed for a moment, then snapped back open. "I can't keep them out." He began to gnaw on his finger again. "I just sort of drift."

"What's happened to your shields?"

"Too tired." He drifted off again for moment, then bit down on his finger. "And Farfie's been really screwy, and . . . and . . . I miss . . . I shouldn't say that."

Yohji gently touched his cheek. "You miss Crawford?"

Schuldig nodded and nuzzled his face against Yohji's hand. "Mm hmm . . . tastes nice."

Yohji didn't attempt to make sense of that. He just continued to touch him lightly, caressing his cheek and smoothing his hair. Schuldig apparently liked the contact, because he stumbled out of his chair and wound up sitting on the floor, resting his face against Yohji's thigh. "Hard to hold everything together," he murmured, gnawing on his finger.

"Stop chewing on your finger like that," Yohji said, still stroking his hair.

"It hurts." This was apparently Schuldig's idea of an explanation. "My kitten sometimes bites me. She's asleep with Nagi now. Happy kitten thoughts. I miss the kitten."

Yohji paused, somewhat taken aback by this. "Schu, why did you come here?" he asked, thinking that Schuldig might be better off back at his own apartment, with his apartment and his own bed. He hoped that it hadn't just been for the liquor.

"You think straighter and I can always hear you," Schuldig said.

Yohji took this to mean that he was a steadying presence. "Oh. Okay. Do you want to lie down?"

"Do you want me to? Maybe. I don't know."

Yohji thought it over. "I want you to lie down if you think it will help."

"Don't think it matters." Schuldig was sounding sleepy, and wasn't gnawing on the finger quite so hard. The liquor was definitely helping to numb him. It helped that Yohji had just poured him another full cup.

"Here, drink this," he said.

"Okay." Schuldig obeyed. "Sorry," he added.

"What are you sorry for?" Yohji asked, still running his hands through Schuldig's hair.

"Being weird. It bugs you."

"Well, I can't say I'm thrilled with the situation," Yohji said dryly, slightly amused at this comment from Schuldig, "but you know that anyway. And it isn't your fault, so you don't need to apologize."

Schuldig's eyes closed, but this time it was more like sleep and less like mental drifting. He nuzzled at Yohji, again mumbling, "Tastes nice."

"Sure," Yohji said, at length. "Why don't you go to sleep?"

"But then you might leave."

"Why would I do that?" Yohji asked.

"Don't know." Schuldig began to slump, his head more near Yohji's knee than on his thigh at this point. In a few more minutes, he was going to fall completely to the floor. Yohji decided he'd better forestall that.

"I won't leave you, Schu," he said, in as soothing a tone as his somewhat frazzled nerves could handle. "Just drink a little more and then get some sleep."

"Okay." Schuldig nodded and took a new drink from Yohji without question. It could have been cyanide and he would have tipped it back with just as little concern. Yohji continued to stroke his hair and his back, hoping he would fall asleep quickly, although it was more so Schuldig would be out of his misery than out of Yohji's hair.

Hearing that thought, Schuldig smiled and snuggled closer, slumping heavily against Yohji as he lost consciousness. Yohji lifted him up and settled him in the bed, drawing the blankets over him, without Schuldig as much as twitching. Knowing the other assassin's reflexes had to be just as razor sharp as his own, Yohji took this as a sign of exactly how exhausted he was. Of course, the liquor probably helped.

As promised, he sat next to the bed and held Schuldig's hand until he felt like sleeping, at which point he crawled into bed next to him.

^^^^

Yohji woke up around the normal time the next morning, curled around Schuldig. He had only been awake for a few minutes, running his fingers through Schuldig's hair, before the redhead started to stir. Since his mind wasn't precisely staying within its normal boundaries, and Yohji was close to him both emotionally and physically, it gravitated towards him. Thus, Yohji being alert meant that Schuldig was as well.

"You awake?" Yohji asked, caressing his cheek.

Schuldig pondered this for a moment. "Yeah," he finally decided.

"Feeling better?" Yohji asked, hoping to hell that the answer was yes for both their sakes.

"A little," Schuldig said, rubbing the palms of his hands over his face roughly.

"Good," Yohji said, relieving. "You want anything to eat?"

Schuldig nodded. His shields had recovered to the point that he could keep most people out, but couldn't seem to keep himself in. It was probably a result of having stretched himself so far to talk to Brad, but the results were rather disconcerting. He had to actively think about being himself in order to stay in his own head.

"You want to get up?" Yohji asked, then added teasingly, "Or should I bring you breakfast in bed?"

Schuldig, still sleep slow, didn't notice the teasing. "I'll get up."

"Well, no rush," Yohji said, cuddling closer, burying most of his face in Schuldig's hair. Schuldig gave a contented little hum, but didn't reply other than that. "What do you want to do today?" Yohji asked him.

"Hide?" Schuldig proposed, then frowned. "I have to go home and make sure Nagi's okay."

"Okay," Yohji said. "I'm sure he can take care of himself, but we can go check on him after breakfast."

Schuldig fell quiet, drifting off slightly, as his eyes half-closed. "Huh?" He shook himself briskly. "Repeat?"

Yohji smoothed his hair in a motion that he hoped was both reassuring and grounding at the same time. "I said that we can go check on Nagi after breakfast. You need to eat something before we go anywhere."

"Okay. Thank you," Schuldig added, meaning far more than just breakfast. "I'm hungry," he added.

Yohji frowned. "You sound like you're just figuring that out." At Schuldig's nod, he shrugged and crawled out of bed. "Then let's go get you some breakfast."

Schuldig followed, although he had to concentrate very hard on what he was doing. After a few seconds, he realized he was cold. This clicked in his mind, and he looked down to discover that Yohji had pulled off his shirt and pants before going to bed. He found them tossed over the back of the chair and pulled them on, then followed Yohji downstairs.

Omi was dispatched for donuts, and went fairly good-naturedly at that. He expressed disappointment in not being able to accompany them back to Schuldig's apartment to see Nagi, but Ken was off playing soccer with some of the neighborhood kids, and Omi knew that Aya would kill him if he left him alone in the store.

A few donuts, two cups of coffee, and several gnawed fingers later, they left for the apartment. Schuldig wandered over to the elevator as if in a daze. "Can you manage your keys?" Yohji asked him.

"Yeah," Schuldig said, after a pause to fish them out of his pants pocket. He let the two of them into their apartment, calling Nagi's name as he wandered inside. Yohji toed off his shoes automatically; Schuldig didn't bother with what he considered was a strange Japanese custom.

Nagi peeked out of his room, the door barely open. "Schu?"

"Yeah." Schuldig wandered towards Nagi's room, nothing direct in his movements. "Yohji's with me."

Nagi came out of his room, looking very tired and a bit dishvelled. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Some," Schuldig replied, rubbing at his temples. "I can keep everyone out, just not me in. He gave Nagi a close look. "But that's better than before."

Nagi nodded slightly. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah. Did you? Did Farfie?"

"I had breakfast, but . . . if Farferello is awake, I don't know." Nagi looked at the floor and added rather shamefacedly, "I . . . I didn't check. Maybe we should just leave him."

Half-ignoring Nagi's statement, and half not really registering it, Schuldig wandered down the hallway. He cracked Farferello's door open and glanced inside. Much to his luck, Farferello was still asleep. He wondered how many tranquilizers Nagi had given him, and if he should be worried.

"Is he asleep?" Nagi asked nervously, his arms wrapped around himself.

Schuldig nodded. "Where's Katzchen?"

"Asleep on my bed." Nagi went over to the couch and slumped down onto it, weary to the point of exhaustion.

Schuldig blinked at him. "Did you sleep?"

"Uhm . . . no, but that's okay," Nagi said, rather quickly.

"You should sleep," Schuldig said, as if this was some sort of brilliant statement. He sat down on the sofa next to Nagi, leaving enough room on his other side for Yohji to sit, which the other man did, flopping down and putting his arm around Schuldig's shoulders.

"I tried, but I couldn't," Nagi admitted shamefacedly. He'd had enough trouble sleeping lately, usually dropping off from sheer exhaustion after a sixteen hour work day. Alone in the apartment with Farferello, it had been impossible.

"Can you now?" Schuldig asked, realizing this fact as he slumped into Yohji's embrace.

"I could try, but . . . are you going to stay?" he asked, feeling like a complete baby. At Schuldig's nod, he blushed deeper and added, "I-I mean . . . right here."

"If you want," Schuldig said. He was very comfortable snuggled up to Yohji, and the other man didn't seem inclined to want to go anywhere any time soon.

"Okay." Nagi very hesitantly curled up next to Schuldig, resting his face against Schuldig's upper arm. He felt extremely young, but the physical contact was going a long way towards making him feel safer. "You don't mind?" he asked, remembering how much contact affected Schuldig's telepathy.

"It's okay." Schuldig rubbed Nagi's back reassuringly, trying to keep himself pulled together long enough to comfort him.

"I mean . . . that I'm touching you? With your telepathy the way it is?"

"I'll deal. I can keep peaople out now. You need to sleep."

"Okay." Nagi rested more fully against him and closed his eyes.

The kitten jumped up onto the back of the sofa and started to gnaw on Schuldig's hair, purring happily to see her owner. Schuldig scooped it up, given it a nice satisfied feeling as well as he was able. "Happy kitten thoughts," he stated, letting his mind drift on purpose for the first time as the kitten's purring increased. "Kitten thoughts are nice. Very simple." He paused, then added randomly, "Brad got her for me."

"Well, good," Yohji said, given that he had absolutely no idea what to say to that.

"Sorry I'm so flighty," Schuldig said, trying to keep talking so he would have something to focus on.

"It's okay," Yohji said, and smoothed his hair. "I don't mind."

^^^^