Title: I Wanna Feel
Rating: PG-13
Note: Hey guys! If you've read any of my other fics, you'll know I'm fond not only of the BradxSchu pairing, but of songfics. This time the song is "Somewhere I Belong" by Linkin Park. Yeah, I can't help the fact that their songs just fit so well with Schuldich and Brad. It happens (Something about angst…). Also, beware of very sudden time jumps. (They'll all happen between lyrics, but without warning.)
Summary: A take on the beginning of Schuldich and Brad. Schu first person POV. Author's liberties taken (aka, I'm making this up). Shonen-ai.
Disclaimer: I'm glad I don't own any of this except the plot in most cases. XD

When this began

I'm staring at my ceiling when his footsteps meet my ears. I know it is him, for he is the only one who blocks his mind from me. I can't pick up a single thought from him as he comes to a stop next to my bed. "You there." His voice is too awake, and I curse under my breath in German.

"What?" I throw my arm over my eyes, not wanting to see the tall American next to my bed. "Don't tell me it is morning already. Actually, just don't tell me I'm still alive." I start to roll over to my side, but he grabs my shoulder.

"Get up." And here I thought he would say something worthwhile to me about death. I snort and throw him a lazy smirk, but don't protest as I drag myself out of bed. He leaves the room and I can only guess he's waiting outside my door.

I had nothing to say

I must have been bad yesterday. I don't quite remember anymore, for the elder who is 'looking after me' has shredded my mind to pieces yet again. He wants me to learn how to use and control my talent. I don't give a damn; I just want him out of my head.

He releases his grip on me and I crumble to the floor, unable to get my legs under myself. I watch as he leaves the room and the American comes in to check on me. The lazy smirk in place, I push myself up off the ground and stand back up without a problem. The American looks almost shocked at this, but it quickly fades back to his neutral expression.

I have the feeling he wants something from me, but I don't question it as I pass him and head to my room.


And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me
I was confused

He's always watching me. Sometimes it unnerves me, but most of the time I don't care. I throw him a smirk as I sit down at the table with my food, and he takes that as an invite. He sits himself down across the table from me and watches as I eat. The only time we ever speak is when he wakes me up in the morning. I don't know why he does wake me up in the morning, it's not like I want to get up anyway. I hate this place, I hate these people, and I hate him too.

Finally too unnerved by his silence, I snap out a quick, "What, is there something on my face?" He blinks at me in response, he flippin' blinks for crying out loud.

"I want you to join me." Is his response after several minutes of silence and simple blinking. And of course, now it's my turn to blink at him.

"You what?"

"I want you to join me. Become Schwarz with me."

And I let it all out to find
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind

I never bothered asking why he picked me. He's the precog, so I just guess it's for some plan later on down the road. Rosenkreuz released me to him after another year had passed. Another year of waking up- of him waking me up. Another year of being alive; another year of everyone's voice in my head, telling me what they're thinking.

Every voice except his.

Inside of me

"Why can't I hear your thoughts?" We're sitting at the table eating supper like a nice married couple, and it irritates me. So I break the silence with the question I've had for so many years now. And the American, Brad, he just blinks at me.

And I could shoot him for it, but then I would never know the answer.

"Because I'm shielding myself from you." He responds, setting his fork down. "I figured I could be one less voice to pester you with."

All these years of him waking me up, making me face the reality that I was still alive, and he shields himself so he doesn't annoy me.

And me, I start to laugh.

But all the vacancy the words revealed
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel

We were on a mission. We still are on a mission really. But me, I've gone and screwed it all up. It's raining, and the water soaks my clothes, my hair sticks to my head, and I'm annoyed. He should have seen this coming. He's the precog; I only read people's minds. My gun is several feet away, so I can't reach it. I've broken a few ribs, and I'll be damned if I move to get it, even if it would put me out of my misery.

Sitting in the ditch with the rain pelting my face, I begin to wonder. I wonder if he'll show up and save me, or if he'll kill me for failing him. I wonder if he's okay, and why it's taking so long for him to show up. I wonder if he knows I'm here at all.

And suddenly, I feel so far away.

Nothing to lose
Just stuck
Hollow and alone
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

When I open my eyes again I'm in a bed. It's not mine though, because I sleep on the couch. This is a bed. I start to move, but a jarring pain sears through my torso, and I involuntarily let out a gasp of pain. A motion catches the corner of my eye and I turn to see Brad sitting in a chair by the bed- his bed –and watching me. He looks like I just woke him up, and I probably did. Without thinking, I open my mouth to talk.

"Why didn't you leave me there?" Along with that, I want to know why he keeps waking me up. Why he keeps making me face the music. Why I have to kill people day in and day out. I don't mind it, but sometimes I wish I could just die. "Why'd you have to save me?" I press on, feeling something pricking at my eyes. "Why couldn't you leave me, or shoot me, or just put me out of my own misery for once? Do you enjoy this? Do you enjoy torturing me with life?" I realize with a start that I'm crying, and I don't know when that happened or why.

Brad doesn't say anything, just takes it all in in silence. If I could move without a jarring pain, I'd sit up and slap him. Finally he sighs and comes around to crouch next to the side of the bed I'm on, and I just watch him. He leans over me suddenly, and before I realize what's going on, our lips meet in a chaste kiss. It catches me off guard, and I'm not sure what to do. He pulls back, and with his lips still dangerously close to my own, he murmurs for me to get better soon.

And with that he leaves the room.

If I would have known it was coming, I might have reacted differently. In my mind, I struggle to think of how I would have reacted.


I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain I've held so long
Erase all the pain till it's gone

We don't mention the kiss. I got better, I went back to using the couch as my bed, and he went back to using his bed as, well, his bed. Some days I convince myself that it was just a figment of my sick imagination. But then I find my fingers lingering above my lips, and I know it was real. I'm sitting on the couch with my fingers next to my lips when Brad walks into the room, and I have a moment to decide what I'm going to do.

So instead I think about what I could have done. My hand where it is, I wonder if this is what I want. I wonder if this is what I've always wanted. Why I kept letting him wake me up each morning. Because he was the first thing I wanted to see, the first thing I wanted to hear. I wonder what's going on in his head as he stands in the entryway to the living room and watches me wonder about him with my fingers still next to my lips.

I wonder if he really knows, or if he really cares. When he turns and heads back to his room, I lower my hand to my lap and conclude that he doesn't.


I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real
I wanna find something I've wanted all along
Somewhere I belong

We're eating supper again like a happy married couple. Not speaking, not looking at each other, just eating in silence. It's been a few months since I busted myself up and completely jacked up our mission, but Brad doesn't seem to care. We never talk anymore. Well, we never spoke to each other to be honest. He'd wake me up in the morning for coffee, but that was about it. He'll fill me in if there's a mission, obviously, but we're not like a normal team. We don't talk. We just go about our lives in a shell.

He gets up from the table to clear his plate and I find my mouth moving on its own accord, "Brad." He looks at me immediately, and I realize this is the first time I've ever called him by name. Somehow everything seems wrong now, but my mouth keeps moving anyway. "I was wondering… how much longer we were going to go on like this."

"Like what?"

"Like this, damn it." I'm glaring at him, and he wears his stupid neutral expression like he doesn't give a damn. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn back to my plate, silently excusing him from my sight.


And I've got nothing to say
I can't believe I didn't fall right down on my face

His plate clatters as he sets it in the sink, and the action catches me off guard. Brad is one of those really obsessive types of people. He cleans his dishes after supper, instead of leaving them in the sink like I prefer to do. A couple seconds pass before I feel the weight of his hands on my shoulders. I freeze, the physical contact sending a chill down my spine.

"Schuldich," I realize with a start this is the first time he's addressed me by name, so I actually listen. "Come to bed." His hands fall away from my shoulders as suddenly as they were placed there, and I'm left gawking after his form as he leaves the room.


I was confused

I immediately finish eating and go on a search for Brad. I'm not sure what's going through my head right now, other than the fact that there's this one thought I just can't seem to get out of my head, and I know, for the first time in my life that it's really my own thought.

He's sitting on his bed without a shirt on when I find him. For a moment I stand in the doorway, just watching him watch me. Finally he motions for me to come in, and I do. My feet seem to have a mind of their own as they tread carefully towards his bed. I stop next to the bed and in front of him, and he reaches up to run a hand through my hair. My eyes slide closed as I lean into the touch, savoring the feeling of physical contact. I don't object as he pulls me down for a kiss, and in my mind, I finally accept the lone thought that's truly my own.

'I really do want this.'


Looking everywhere only to find
That it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind
So what am I

Several months later and we're out getting groceries. This has come to be my favorite and most dreaded time spent with Brad. As long as I can keep my talent in check, everything will go smoothly.

Today, it's being a bitch. The lady down the aisle keeps glancing at us. She thinks we're an odd pair to be at the store. A tall American and a gangly red headed foreigner just shouldn't be out and about together in her store. A couple of school girls down the other way speak in hushed whispers about how attractive Brad is. To that, I will vouch. The two girls stroll slowly towards the seemingly oblivious Brad, but he turns at the last minute to greet them. Caught off guard, the girls simply blush and giggle.

Somehow, I think I'm going to be sick. One of the girls starts the conversation off by complimenting Brad, and I already know where this is going, so he must as well. He's playing into their compliments and it makes my blood run cold. So after I snag a box of cereal off the shelf and toss it into out cart, I wrap my arms around his waist and smile at the girls.

"Sorry babe, but I'm afraid Brad here is taken." She gives me a sneer as she and her friend storm off, and I send a smirk her direction. I pull away from Brad and saunter down the aisle in the opposite direction as the girls, passing by the lady from earlier who looks even more disgusted than originally.


What do I have but negativity
'Cause I can't justify the way, everyone is looking at me

"Schuldich?" Brad's putting the groceries away and I'm eating cereal at the table. I'm trying my best not to talk to him after the fiasco in the store, too worried he's angry at me. When he addresses me though, I finish my current mouthful of cereal and turn to him.

"Yeah?"

"About earlier," He seems at a loss for words, as he leaves his sentence hanging while he puts up some more groceries.

"Hey, sorry I interrupted your fun, no big deal." I turn back to my cereal, stuffing a mouthful in my mouth and chewing it with a determination only fit for cereal. After a few more chews I feel the weight of his hands on my shoulders again. I can take a few educational guesses as to what's going to happen next, but I won't bother.

"Schuldich, you underestimate yourself." Brad's words catch me off guard a bit, but I manage to force a spoonful of cereal down my throat before snorting in response. Brad doesn't seem to like this, so he keeps talking. "I never saw you as the jealous type, really. From the moment I saw you stand up after your punishment from the elder, I feared you. You acted like no one could harm you, hurt you, or kill you. Schuldich, you're an assassin; you could have killed the girl with your mind if you had wanted to."

The last comment catches me off guard, and I stand up, abruptly shoving my chair into him. I've caught him by surprise, one of the few times I ever will, and it shows on his face as I turn to glare at him.

"You made me an assassin. If you wouldn't have been there to wake me up every morning I would have just let them kill me." My hands are clenched tightly at my sides as I glare up at him, and Brad, he just stands there and blinks at me in surprise. And how I wish I could kill him right then and there. "I hate killing people on a day to day basis. Sure the pay is great, I love living with you, screwing you, whatever. But the fact of the matter is; I really hate it." He's still shocked by my out burst, so I spin on my heel and stalk to the door.


Nothing to lose

Half an hour later and I'm sitting with my back against the underside of a bridge in the park. My right hand is flexing around the handle of my gun every few seconds, but I merely sit and dwell in the silence that is never silent to me.

The voices of everyone within several miles are pounding against me, and I want to scream. I can't even have a few minutes to myself to think.


Nothing to gain/ hollow and alone
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

Two hours later and I'm still sitting there. My hand is numb where it rests against my gun, and I've pulled my knees to my chest so I can rest my head against them. Somewhere to my side I hear a sound, but I pass it up for a voice in my head. There are so many of those anyway, why should I listen to each of them?

When the gun pressed against the side of my head cocks, I finally decide it would be a good idea to go ahead and look up. The guy standing next to me pointing the gun at my head, he just doesn't understand. Brad often reminds me of my power to kill people without so much as lifting a finger. Until now, I never thought it would be useful.

Somehow I know I'm going to have about two minutes to decide whether or not I'm going to either accept my fate as an assassin with Brad, or if I'm going to let him kill me. Staring at the barrel of the gun, I'm not listening to what the guy is saying. In a few seconds, none of it will matter anyway. I'm going to decide my fate, right here and right now. For better or for worse…


I will never know myself until I do this on my own
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed

I just wish Brad were here to watch.


I will never be anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today

In a matter of seconds I crush the guy's mind. I could have just shot him with my own gun, but then I would have been avoiding my talent all over again. I stand up so that the blood flowing from the stranger's mouth and ears won't get on my clothes. Spinning of my heel, I start back towards the penthouse, back towards Brad.


I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong

He's standing on the front porch, waiting for me when I turn the corner. I feel my lazy smirk slide into place, and for just a few seconds, I see a slight smile grace his appearance. I slide past him and into the house, but turn enough to pull him in after me. By the way he still has the half smile on his face; I know he knew how everything would turn out. I suddenly realize that he had to flirt with the girl at the store. Because the truth was, we couldn't keep living the way we had been. But something needed to trigger me. Something needed to make me realize that there was more to being an assassin than just killing people. That there was more to him waking me up every morning than to just making me suffer. He really did want me beside him. He really did want me as his partner. He wanted me, just as I wanted him.


I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm somewhere I belong

I feel my smirk slide to a smile as I pull his face down to meet mine; our mouths meeting in a slow kiss. He smiles down at me as I break away just enough so that I can study his face. And suddenly, a random idea pops into my head, and standing this close to him, I just can't help but share.

"Brad, let's go hunt down some more teammates."

And the American, Brad, he just blinks at me.


Somewhere I belong

And suddenly, he just laughs.