Aaannnddd chapter 3. I am on a major roll here and hopefully chap 4 will be done fairly quickly.

Chapter 3

There was a series of thuds and screams from the locked room and the guard looked over, faintly interested. They'd been quiet for two days, going to class, returning in silence, then spending the rest of the day laying on the floor quietly. 'Bet the psycho finally snapped.'

A shrill cry and terrified green eyes stared at him out the window, a small, blood covered hand planted on the glass. ::Help me! Please, he's starving, please, help me!:: Weak, weaker than usual; the redhead was a chatterbox some days and liked to make conversation, like he was normal or something.

As used to seeing disgusting things as he was, letting the boy be eaten alive was a bit much. A quick scan showed the blond on the other side of the cell, knife in hand, stalking the long away around, taunting his prey; a fast call was made for assistance as the hunter sprang forward. Bloody fingers trailed across the window as the smaller boy ran, sobbing loudly in the guard's head.

'Fuck.' He couldn't just stand there, he had orders to make sure they didn't kill each other, but he certainly didn't want to go in there. A loud scream signaled the redhead was caught, struggling wildly under the strong body. 'Shit, shit, shit.'

He coded the door and slid in to unlock and enter the inner room, gun up. Bright hair flashed, almost as brilliant as the grin sent to him; a gasp was choked out as he turned to meet yellow eyes directly behind him. He didn't have a chance to bring his gun up, to fight, anything, before the knife slit his throat in a clean line, sending blood spattering over the walls and floor, a giggle of delighted triumph the last thing he heard as he fell.

Backup arrived minutes later, guns drawn, talents tensed. Farfarello was on the floor, inhaling thick muscle delightedly while Schuldig watched from their nest, arms around his knees. Confused yelling and Darias shoved through, forcing his way to the front, Taran directly behind him. Disgust was clear and traced the pale faces behind them, just behind the fear. "Farfarello." He didn't even flinch, taking no notice of being addressed. "Schuldig, what happened?"

"He's starving." Cool green watched the older men, fingers twisting together. "I'm starving. You didn't really think he would survive three days without food, did you?"

"Without food? Your meal records are filled out. You haven't missed any of seven daily meals for a month." A light step was taken closer, hands spread; Taran started to stop him, then pulled back, fondling his gun.

"Liar." That got Farfarello's attention, ears almost perked at his favorite indiscretion. "We haven't been fed for nearly four days, twenty six missed meals." The redhead shifted position, stomach growling a bit; he'd missed twenty seven and hadn't eaten much of their first.

Darias examined the half naked boy, the still trickling wound, then waved behind to his partner. "Taran, we need some food here, please. And send the team away, we don't need them." His gaze turned to the blood covered blond watching him with glowing eyes. "Farfarello, come away. We'll get you real food in a minute. Can you wait until then?"

A skim of thoughts, butterfly light, showed truth in the brunette's words, his confusion at their being denied meals plain, though hidden behind his mask. ::Far, come away. They're bringing something better.:: Cat eyes stared at him but apparently the blond's immediate hunger was sated and he crawled over to lay across the hollowed stomach, head resting in the curve of waist while he played with his knife, licking at the blood still dripping off.

Scarred fingers were dipped in red streaking the pale chest and held up to be licked clean; Schuldig stared at the brunette empath as he sucked both fingers into his mouth, flicking his tongue to capture the salty fluid; they were removed and dipped again, repeating until a pair of trays were carried in and set on the floor. A telepathic nudge sent the blond over to grab them and carry them back with the air of a hunter returning with meat, and his partner grinned at him before digging in, ripping the bread to pieces as he shoved cheese in his mouth.

"Careful, you'll be sick if you eat too quickly." Darias sat down at the edge of the blankets, folding his legs under him and patting the ground beside him for his partner to sit. Taran gave him a disbelieving look and stood over him, gun at his side. They watched the boys eat, noting that the best pieces ended up on Schuldig's plate, switched in a blur of motion with less appetizing bits. 'I wonder if he notices?'

The answer was yes, which became obvious as the redheaded teen picked carefully through his meal, eating about half the traded bits, picking until he was done then pushing his plate back over to the blond, waving the questioning sound away. Enough eaten to appreciate the effort, then returned. ::Told you, perfect match.:: The bit of gloating was rewarded with a nudge of heavy boot to his butt.

Sated eyes watched them from their spot in the redhead's lap, a lean sprawl of grace, delicate fingers twirling a knife idly. "What do you want?" Green watched them closely, a bit curious but mostly apathetic to his answer.

"When did they stop feeding you?" A low growl from the blond and he lifted a bit, stomach flexing; a delicate hand fluttered over pale skin and whispered through shoulder length hair, bringing him gently back down as Taran shifted, gun hand twitching.

"Breakfast and second meal four days ago. We saved some." A sharp grin. "Animal instinct. We ran out completely just over two days ago." They had many secrets but that wasn't one of them and he gave the information freely.

Short dark hair nodded. "Alright, I'll look into it. How did you get the guard in here?" A mocking giggle from the killer. "If you won't tell me, I can't help you. Taran and I are your assigned officers until you leave and we dictate how you are treated, trained. How did you get the guard inside against orders?"

Gold laughed at him, green just as mocking. "He was stupid. Thought Farfarello would eat me, attack me. Thought he could starve us into obedience." Thought he was actually interesting enough to talk to, but that was another issue. Dark eyes flicked to his chest and slim fingers trailed over the mark, following the torn crescent. "Gotta eat something."

Nothing showed on the pale face but the leg against his shoulder was tense; how close were these two? More so than they'd dreamed. They watched as pale eyes followed the fingers and chapped lips leaned up to press to the light blood trail, tongue flicking against delicate skin. "We'll be removing you from the cell, Schuldig, to work on your telepathy while Farfarello focuses on the physical aspect of training. It will only be for a month and you will be returned."

A hint of lie there, not quite the truth, but the fact that he would be returned was true, as well as the time frame. ::Farfarello, I'm going with him. I want to test against other telepaths, see where they are.:: He was fine, far ahead of where they thought he was, but it would be good to see what else was there, where their training stood.

::Fine. Bed.:: Which meant get rid of them so they could sleep off this meal.

"As you like. When? Tomorrow?" The older boy combed his fingers through the slightly greasy hair, vaguely distracted by the thought of a shower sometime soon; it had been a few days since their last one and they were due.

Darias took the hand that appeared by his shoulder and stood easily, flowing to his feet. "I'll be here after first meal." The older pair turned and walked out, not looking back even after the door was shut and locked behind them.

"What the fuck? I thought we were taking him now. Get this started." His smaller partner was walking rapidly down the hall, a hand waving him forward as they put distance between themselves and the cell.

"Didn't you see them? They would have come after us if we tried to separate them. Farfarello had three knives that I noticed and the one he was playing with, then anything I didn't see; did you notice that he was feeding Schuldig, making sure he got enough of the best?" Black hair nodded shortly, eyes narrowed. "He's courting him, looking after him. If Schuldig had said no or we tried to force it, he would have ripped us apart without a second thought." A soft smile, the one that Taran had learned wasn't nearly as delicate or gentle as it looked. "He'll come willingly in the morning and make everything much more simple. No more talking out loud near the cell, they can hear or sense it, whether it's Schuldig and his telepathy or Farfarello. We have to tell Hardring about someone trying to starve them and find out who." Another faint smile was tossed over his shoulder. "I doubt they'll let us off so easily next time whether we have anything to do with it or not."

'And you, my dear Taran, are destined to fail. You'll never break them up now, no matter what you do.'

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The first week away was easy, class in the mornings, physical and weapons training in the afternoons; sleep was the most difficult part and the redhead felt like a girl, missing the steady breathing and loud heartbeat. Contacting Farfarello proved impossible, only static answering him, no matter how long he stood and yelled. In the second week, he was placed in a practice group of other young men around his age.

A fast scan showed most of the boys to be self-proclaimed level 15 or 16 and he let the multitude of scans slip past his first shields to see who he was and lose interest. There were also several telekinetics practicing their control, spinning weapons and chairs, practicing with anything left out to play with. They all felt weak and he relaxed; he could take any of them easily if he had to, but it would be better to play at being weaker.

A sandy blond appeared beside him as he ran his hands over a set of knives, choosing one for himself. "Hi. Are you new here?"

"No." The small weapon turned between his fingers, rolling easily as he tested the heft and balance; he felt dark eyes on him and stared back.

"Where are you from?" A brief grin, and the impression of a puppy was given, all wriggly and eager to get to know you.

"Bassum." Which was obvious from his accent. Schuldig tried to move away from the annoyance but was followed.

"Really? Was it nice there? I hear England has beautiful landscapes." Thin shoulders rolled; as if he'd had a chance to stare at landscapes, even if he had grown up in England. He didn't bother to correct the blond, ignoring him as teams were set up and the sparring rules explained.

His lips tightened when he was paired with the annoying boy. "I'm a telekinetic, so you must be a telepath. What level are you? I'm a 16." A hint of bragging there and thin shoulders rolled again.

"Dunno." His knife rolled along his arm, balanced on a finger and flashed as he whirled to touch it to his temporary partner's neck.

There was a flare of anger in the dark eyes and Schuldig smirked to himself; not so friendly now, are we? "You have to know. You can't be that weak."

The redhead just turned away to watch the matches; two pairs, one weapon per person, no killing, no permanent damage. Most of the boys were fast and skilled with their weapon of choice but he could feel the lack of strength in their psychic control. At least compared to what he could do; long hours of practice in the minefield that was Farfarello's mind had honed his control and strengthened his manipulation skills.

Finally, their turn came up and they faced a pair of brunettes, obviously an experienced team from the way they moved together and stayed close, attacking at the same time. Schuldig didn't bother fighting a psychic battle, just shut his shields down firmly and attacked physically, zipping forward until he was captured and frozen in place

While he debated whether to just break the shaky hold, he felt his feet lift from the ground and was thrown through the air to slam into the surprised pair. Something sharp cut his cheek and blood flowed over his chin as he pinned them to the floor, hand on one neck, knife at the second; they were so shocked at the unorthodox attack, they just lay still. The match was called and he shifted to his feet.

His teammate was bent over laughing with a pair of boys, obviously friends, and he flew at them in a rage. A firm grip lifted him and sent him slamming into the wall until he collapsed on the floor, bleeding sluggishly. A quick trip to the medical ward and back to his room for the night.

'That little bastard, thinks he can fuck with me.' It took a few hours to find the blond's signature in the minimum security wing, where good behavior got a light lock, a decent bed, a single room, and a few personal possessions. He was just getting ready for bed when the redhead latched onto him and took over.

::Little fucker. Thought you could mess with me?:: Loud cursing was yelled at him. ::Yeah, 'cause I've never heard that before. Asshole.:: A hint of snark and a wide smirk. ::And Bassum is in Germany, not England. Idiot.:: A few minutes were spent exploring the books and a couple of pictures on a small shelf before the blond's hand reached out and tapped the door, turning the lock easily, and they bolted down the hall, avoiding the guards easily.

Ranting was ignored as the redhead searched out the signature he'd picked up from some of the smaller boys; an older teen, nineteen, more man than boy, and fond of virgins. The lock to his room opened quietly and they slipped in; shuffling from the bed and dark eyes watched them. "What?"

"Hi. I heard you liked virgins." Pink graced slightly round cheeks and a shoulder tilted with a flirtatious smile. "I thought maybe you'd like to relieve me of mine." A shriek from the background almost sent the telepath into gales of laughter but he restrained himself. "If you don't want to, I'm sure I can find someone else." Trim hips twisted a bit, drawing the thin cloth tight over them and his ass.

Large feet swung over the edge of the bed and the young man stood, showing he slept naked and the thoughts Schuldig had picked up were accurate; very accurate. Panic shoved at him and he giggled to himself. "Tired of it already, huh?" A huge hand cupped the blond's ass and pulled him close. "We can probably arrange for that little problem to be taken care of."

The hand placed on the wide chest looked like a doll's. "Can I make a request?" A raised eyebrow. "Could you tie me up? And gag me?" Red moved through soft cheeks and he stared at the floor, seemingly embarrassed.

"Bold, bold little virgin." But there was a grin in the words, and he stepped back to shred a sheet and tie the smaller boy's hands to the bed, stuffing a roll in his mouth. Rough fingers probed between tight cheeks, pulling the sleeping pants tight against the blond's stomach.

::I'm letting go now.:: The possibility of freedom sparked and he laughed nastily. ::Oh, right. Have to fix that, don't we?:: The link of talent and mind was pulled taut and snapped with a shriek; a wail of panic and pain nearly deafened him as he pulled away laughing.

It was the best night's sleep he'd had since he left Far's cell.

Morning came too quickly, with his blanket yanked away, tossing him to the floor. "Get up." Rough hands gripped his arm and dragged him through the halls to a brightly lit room and shoved him inside.

The blond from the day before was curled on the floor, his trainer kneeling beside him. "Number JD910, Number 54PF9 claims you took control of his mind and forced him to go to another student's room where you propositioned said student and left him to be raped, where he was found this morning." The cold voice came from a table near the far side of the room. "Is this true?"

"No." A quick cuff to the back of his head sent him stumbling forward. "No, sir. I can't do that."

"Are you saying you're too weak to here?"

"No, sir. I can't force people to do something they are opposed to, I can only bring hidden desires to the fore, encourage people to do as they secretly want." Practically a textbook answer, straight from his classes.

Dark eyes looked him over then nodded. "He's lying. Tie him up." A scream of rage and the redhead ducked the hands that reached for him and bolted forward to slam his foot into the curled body on the floor before the kneeling instructor shoved him backwards.

"You little bastard! I'll fucking get you for this!" Strong arms lifted him and carried him to the back of the room to tie his hands to a ring in the ceiling. ::Just wait. You thought that was bad?:: Frightened images of the nineteen year old calling others in to enjoy his new toy made him laugh viciously. ::I'll turn you over to the greatest sadist this place has ever seen and he'll enjoy you for years. I won't let you die. Never ever.::

"Get out! Get out, get out, get out!" Broken sobs made the words almost unintelligible and his trainer dove into the damaged mind, trying to track the culprit. Schuldig pulled back quickly, brushing his tracks away carefully, not leaving even the faintest mark of presence.

The blond was swept up at a wave from the man at the desk and carried out with a glare at the redhead. He stuck his tongue out childishly before his attention was drawn to the whip that was lifted from the table. "As soon as you admit it, I'll stop."

"I didn't! I can't!" His protests were cut short by the first strike of a half dozen strips of leather to his stomach. His teeth gritted to contain the cries that eventually escaped, growing to screams as he bled; when his stomach was too bloody to see, they turned him and continued, constantly repeating that if he just admitted it, it would be over. When his legs gave and he collapsed, his shoulder ripped from its socket and he shrieked even louder. When his voice gave, he screamed in his mind until he passed out; cold water rinsed him off and woke him so they could start again.

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"Well?" Darias bounced across the room, robe falling open as he leaned over to take the letter from his partner. "What does it say?"

The paper was held out of reach and he was tugged into the taller man's lap. ::It was denied.:: Strong arms wrapped around the frozen form as the smile dropped away.

::What?:: The letter was snagged and read silently, slim shoulders shaking, the shivering rustling the paper between his hands as his partner hugged him tightly. ::No. No, we filled out all the forms, we qualify!:: An angry, choked sob. ::We qualify!::

Taran just held on, waiting it out; there was nothing to say, they did qualify and they were still denied the transfer. Twenty three years here, first as students then as instructors, and it was wearing on them both. Especially as they got older and had fewer and fewer chances to be placed with a team. Darias had been so sure they would be approved this time, and was so disappointed, it wouldn't hurt to be gentle for a few minutes.

::Those fucking bastards.:: Ice in the usually soft voice and he stared up at the nearly black eyes, mesmerized. ::We will have revenge for this.:: The older man couldn't help himself, lips seeking the soft ones in a bruising kiss, nipping roughly at the aggressive tongue.

A light knock and a young guard was called in, blushing sharply at their morning lack of dress. Number JD910's indiscretion was reported and Darias hopped up to get dressed while Taran sent a message back that they'd be there in a few minutes.

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"Good morning, Sir." Dazed green cracked open at the familiar voice; his vision swayed tauntingly for a minute then focused enough to see his trainer standing in the door, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed politely. "Are you finished? May we take him?" It occurred to the redhead that there hadn't been a strike for a couple of minutes; his body throbbed and he couldn't tell when exactly the beating had stopped.

A solid thump when the handle of the whip hit the table was followed by the wet slide of blood covered leather. "No. One last test." The guard at his back was motioned forward and faced the teen. "Shoot him." The metal of the gun was a dull color and it wavered in Schuldig's vision, an uncertain target. "You have ten seconds. If he kills you, you didn't deserve to be here."

A slow blink and a second was gone; it would be so easy to just have him shoot himself, but it would show too much strength. Look weak, look weak, little bit by bit and seconds were counting away; a more firm touch was needed and he stepped into the man's head, pulling and pushing the gun away, just over his shoulder would be alright, that would be good.

"Ten." No, it was still pointed at him and he froze up for an instant; long enough to feel the trigger tighten under a thick finger, to hear the crack in two sets of ears, feel gunpowder residue burn his broken skin, a sharp stinging pain before the bullet struck, flinging his body back like a puppet before he was dragged back to his own body, screaming with a throat too raw to make a sound and crying from eyes too dry for tears.

Flashes of clarity, random and disjointed; the tap of fingers on the dark wood table, mutters from an unseen man, Darias' knees giving before a firm hand and strong shields steadied him, the bright spray of his blood on the wall as he twirled helplessly, Taran's face swimming over his, low voice in his ear, and the most oddly memorable, Darias' lips tilting in a victorious smile.

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::Taran.:: The tall brunette stomped away, refusing to turn around and his partner ran after him to grab at his sleeve. ::Taran, just listen!::

::No! This is treason, thinking it is treason!:: The older man whirled to glare down at his smaller partner.

::Please, all I'm asking is for you to delete this for me.:: Puppy eyes stared back, big and liquid, helpless and begging for protection. ::Don't you love me?::

Rage boiled and he slapped at the small hand on his jacket. ::Don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare try to make this about us! This is about you and your revenge.::

The injured hand was pulled back and cradled against the thin chest, shoulders hunched. ::You're right.:: Sniff; oh fuck, not tears. ::You should be more concerned with the company than with me. After all, I'm just the partner they stuck you with. You should turn me in, maybe you'll get a better one next time.::

Strong teeth ground silently as Taran clenched his hands into fists. 'Fucking empaths.' The guilt was nearly overwhelming him and it was worse because he knew Darias wasn't using his talent. ::Come on.:: He grabbed a slender wrist and jerked his smaller partner behind him to their room. ::You're sure?::

::Yes.:: No hesitation. ::He's strong, stronger than even you, and together, they're unstoppable. Those two, they'll rip this place apart. They'll take our revenge for us.:: The glow of a fanatic shone up at him, lighting dark eyes in an unholy light, and it was almost worth it to make that look go away; this wasn't his partner, his partner didn't look crazed like that. His partner was sneaky and quiet, looked out for them first, Taran second, himself third and fuck anyone else.

A deep shuddering breath. ::Close your eyes.:: Because he'd never finish if he had to watch memories fade; it wouldn't be just thoughts of those little brats, but time they'd spent, things they'd done together. Shields dropped and he started to work, dredging every little hint of strength, any little inconsistencies out of his conscious mind and destroying them; deeper to the subconscious where he stepped lightly and pulled anything of relevance, shredding them too.

When it was done, dark eyes opened, a gorgeous smile flashed, and the small form collapsed in his arms with a sigh. 'When did I get so weak?' Maybe it was the slender waist, the cutting wit, and the big eyes that had captured him the first time they met, in one of a series of meetings to find a match, the way all unmatched talents not on teams were paired; or maybe it was everything, the entire package he couldn't imagine living without. His lips tucked up at the memory of their introduction; they'd chatted for the hour they had together, then both had requested to be placed together on the same day, their forms arriving in the same shipment.

His smile fell away at the thought that he might have erased that memory with the others and he set to work on himself, tucking the memories so deeply in his mind and under enough shields that he wouldn't be able to get back to them. When it was done, he lay down and curled around the still body, breathing in the faint cinnamon scent that trailed his partner everywhere.

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