Ooph, finally done! Sorry, I just don't have the time these days, but I am working on it, slowly but surely. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and those to favorited, added me to the update list, etc.

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Chapter 6

"Alright, let's get this over with." A loud, booming voice and Taran's lips tightened; Darias had disappeared half an hour ago, claiming a headache and that he was going to check on Schuldig. Which left his older partner to deal with Frin the prick.

The large sixty three year old was dressed for training in loose canvas pants and a tight short sleeved shirt, both plain green. At his side was a crop he was particularly fond of, the handle well worn and the tip long stained with trainees' blood. "Can't believe you kids can't even handle one little boy. A firm hand and he'll be obeying in no time." A wide hand ran over short grey hair. "He just needs a reminder of who's in charge around here, you brats and your 'ease them in' theories." A slightly disgusted snort accompanied the disparaging comment.

'Just stay calm. Don't let him provoke you.' Even if he did agree sometimes, and personally thought Darias was a little soft on their trainees, he wasn't about to agree with the older man. "Of course. But, he doesn't seem to feel pain and he's not afraid of anything." The clipboard was tapped impatiently. "You read his file, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, you boys have spoiled him. I'll teach him about pain right quick. Fear is a healthy emotion for boys." A slightly mocking grin. "Something that little partner of yours is aware of."

Dark eyes narrowed and the plastic clipboard slapped on the desktop. "Shall we get started? The buzzer is connected to this room and we'll open the door as soon as you hit it. He can get through the inner door, but it slows him down. Otherwise, stay away from religion and good luck." A tight smile and the brunet turned away, ignoring the snort and mumbling behind him. The door shut loudly and minutes later, he saw the instructor step through the inner door.

"On your feet!" White hair turned quickly and the gold eye stared at this new intruder. A crop was being tapped against a thick leg but no other weapons were in evidence. "Move!"

This might be fun. The blond bounced up after covering his project and stood watching the loud man. "Come here." Quick, obedient steps brought him to stand a couple of feet away and he had to look up now, tilting his head back until his hair fell around his shoulders. "What the hell is wrong with you? Stand up straight, look ahead. You do not look at your commander unless you are given permission. Is this clear?"

Thin shoulders shifted back a bit and the single eye turned forward, staring at the dark shirt stretched over heavy muscle. The crop whistled in the air before it struck his shoulder, raising a welt through the fragile shirt. "Is that understood?" Hot air washed over the boy's face as the man bellowed in his face.

"Yes." Another strike, to his chest this time. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy." The crop ran over his shoulder and up to touch white hair as its wielder stalked around him. "Kneel." No movement and the leather slammed against his back in a series of strikes, welts raising almost instantly. Farfarello dropped to his knees with a soft thud, still staring straight ahead.

"Good boy. If you do as you are told, you will not be punished." A few more circles, crop trailing over the slender body. "They tell me you have a lot of potential but I don't see it. You're just a useless boy with a bad attitude." More silence and a few steps took the large man back to the door; he turned and looked down at the kneeling teen. "Come here."

The blond started to rise and the tip of the crop was pointed at him. "No, on your knees. You do as I say. You don't have the right to decide things. You are worthless, a useless, stupid boy who needs to be told what to do, when and how." A brief pause, then Farfarello dropped back to his knees and crawled quietly over to kneel at his feet.

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Taran started to have an ominous feeling low in his stomach and watched carefully with narrowed eyes, waiting for a sign of aggressive behavior. 'He's planning, cunning little bastard. What is he doing?' Because it couldn't be this easy, he'd stood up to electroshock punishments, mental attacks of all forms, drug therapy, and beatings the brunet wasn't sure I he /I could have taken; this was just too easy not to be a set up.

Theories about his mental capabilities had been common, everything from retarded to ignorant to just plain too far gone in fantasy to tell. Every test they'd gotten him to write had been exactly the same as Schuldig's and it was impossible to tell who was giving answers, who was guiding the points. Or if it was even them; they could be pulling the answers from their classmates and sharing. Regardless, this was too easy, too simple and there was no way to warn Frin; the light on his radio was off. Taran signaled the team to be ready and leaned back to watch, because there was nothing else to do.

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Frin stood and looked down at the boy. 'Is this it? Pathetic.' The problem child of the East section was just a boy with authority issues. Though, he was pretty, even with the scars, and a bit older than his usual type, but not too much, still had that delicate build, even if he was getting tall. And being in a position of power always made him hard, even he could admit that; being a soldier had nothing to do with being invincible and everything to do with being aware of your limits. 'What the hell, why not?'

But first, a lesson or two in obedience. "What is your name?"

"Farfarello." Three strikes fell immediately, blood staining the back of the thin white shirt. "Farfarello sir."

The heavy slap of leather was muffled by wet skin and soaked fabric, blood running freely now. "No. When asked for your name, you give your number and talent. What is your name?" He continued swinging, changing the rhythm so as not to set a beat, make it hurt more. Long minutes of silence, broken only by the splash of blood on the floor and the crack of leather on bare skin, shirt shredded away.

Finally, a soft voice came from the boy. "Number 928TX, no talent." One last hit. "sir."

"Good boy." The burly man stepped around to face the teen, tipping his face up with the tip of the crop. "Say it again."

"Number 928TX, no talent, sir." The gold eye was blank, no tears, no pain, no fear.

'Well, we'll fix that.' The free hand moved to his fly and unzipped it, pulling the heavy erection out and stroking a few times. "Open your mouth." A slow blink of gold and the crop fell again across a thin shoulder. Thin lips opened slowly and a slender hand reached out to touch, curious fingers trailing over hot flesh. "Yeah, good boy."

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'Ew.' Such a mature reaction but it was the only one the brunet felt and he turned away, wishing Darias was there to talk to, look at, anything. The assistant beside him was looking a bit green too and he motioned the young man out, waving the smile of gratitude away. Sex may be the easy way to break talents, but Frin was just gross and no one should have to watch. The young blond stumbled at the door, both hands going to his head and a pained cry escaping.

Taran took the few steps in seconds and knelt, brushing long bangs out of the way to stare into pale blue eyes. "Hate, hates us, hates him, no, no, won't stop, hates us, hates him." A hoarse whisper and he jerked back to the window, hands flat as he watched in fascinated horror, a soft cry from Darias via their bond trembling in his mind.

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Warm breath moved over the damp tip and the grey-haired man tilted his head forward to watch; the blond had one hand wrapped around him and one between his thighs. A low groan of appreciation and a heavy hand landed on the white hair, pushing the teen forward. "Come on, do it."

"Okay." For a second, he felt nothing, not warmth, not the cold shock of metal, not the blinding pain, not even the blood that arced from the stump of a penis. The large body folded in half, crop dropped in favor of holding the injured groin, shock leaving him silent. "Stay still now."

The fast tap of feet running to the doors and the inner door slammed abruptly, leaving the large man to huddle on the floor; he dragged himself to his knees and started to stagger to his feet. 'Shit, how did that little brat get me?' No gun, his crop obviously wouldn't do it, no knives scattered around, though the pest was supposedly infatuated with them, damn, damn, damn! 'Tie it off, keep blood loss down.' Basic survival training and he ripped a piece of his sleeve with his teeth and tied it quickly, choking off the gushing crimson. Pain thrummed though his body, radiating from his groin as he forced his feet to move towards the door, intent on reaching the hall and the medical ward.

Last choice. Power brushed outwards and came against soft shields. A cautious push showed them to be elastic and he edged through, careful to avoid touching anything and stepped gently through the green landscape. Nothing, it was completely empty and he sent out a questioning nudge, looking for something to hold. All quiet. As his physical body stumbled on the smooth floor, his mind skimmed quickly, ready to do a fast and hard sweep, as soon as he found something to sweep.

There was a soft roar from behind him and he turned to see a wave of red reaching to the sky and could just make out a shock of white before it overtook him, snapping his head back. The link back to his body was dissolving right from under his feet and he shoved every ounce of power into it, forcing it steady long enough for him to race back to his own mind, scrambling to shut down his shields.

When he opened his eyes, he was kneeling, still bleeding, the room cold and silent; seconds had passed, a minute at the most, and he took deep breaths to regain control. A faint whistling and his crop landed on his shoulder, knocking him forward and leaving a bright red welt at the crease of his neck. "Bad boy. If you do as you are told, you will not be punished."

'How did he get behind me?' The thought was drowned out by the sharp crack of leather on skin, his blood dripping to the floor this time. He couldn't do anything but huddle down and take it, the pain in his groin too intense to allow for a chance to fight. It was humiliating but this whole episode was; soft words washed over him, instructions on how to behave with your superior officer, more than he'd given. 'That little bastard. He knew it all, just didn't want to.'

One large hand was grabbed and yanked firmly up to his neck, a strip of cloth cutting off its circulation; the cloth wound around his neck and the other hand was reached for. Frin swung his arm as hard as he could and grinned when it connected with a delicate cheekbone, a loud crack in his ears. Pressure didn't fade from his arm, pulled tighter in the end, and faint laughter washed eerily over him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You must never hit your superior nor your doctor." A slender hand touched the already swelling cheek, feeling the cracked bone tenderly. "Bad, bad, bad." Each word brought a hard strike, delicate looking arms bunching with sturdy muscle in the boy's anger.

While the older man choked, his other arm was captured and tied tightly at his throat; a few experimental tugs left him gasping for air and he stopped fighting to get his breath back. "Ok you brat, you've had your fun, you're a better fighter than I am. Let me go." His teeth ground at the admission but right now, getting out was the most important thing; his entire midsection was on fire, pain vibrating through his body and he couldn't even put pressure on the bleeding wound.

"No, you are my experiment. I was given a present, it would be rude not to use it." He nodded seriously and the telepath gaped at him. "Come and be a good boy." The smaller form pulled insistently until he had the larger body leaning on him; thin shoulders set and he heaved, forcing the older man to support his own weight or fall. More pulling and they staggered to the inner door and through, the telepath set almost gently down. "Good boy."

A slightly mocking smile twisted the thin lips and Frin snarled at him. "You should be nice to me. If you aren't, you'll be punished." More pieces of cloth were pulled from a small pile beside the outer door and folded neatly to press to the still sluggishly bleeding stump. Its owner groaned and tried to wriggle away. "Be still. If I don't bandage it properly, you might die. And that would be bad, you want to live don't you? Suicide is wrong, killing yourself would make God happy. If you kill yourself, you go straight to hell and don't get to see God and spit on him." Gold started to glow as he finished tying the makeshift bandage. "Yes, someone like you, God doesn't want you, no, no, He'll cry every minute you live."

A brilliant grin, fanaticism in his eyes as he stared down at his captive. "Oh, but He will scream when you come before Him, every cry you make will be as His, every pain a welt on Him." Rambling, silver pressed to the thick neck then flashed away, slicing into the blond's arm instead. "No, test first, tests, then you may go before Him and make Him sob with disgust." More cuts followed the first, trailing up and down the delicate looking arm, blood flowing quickly to drip from twitching fingertips. Calm seemed to follow, the deranged look fading as crimson droplets splashed to the floor.

"Don't you think it would hurt God more if I were to live? I'm a bad man, you said so, so I should be allowed to continue making him hurt." Cool eyes watched him as a piece of cloth was wrapped around the bleeding arm.

Low words, calm and relaxed, not at all like the unstable boy's recent ramblings. "You people. You really think I will do anything you want if it hurts God? Doing the bidding of others is not as harmful as choosing to cause pain on your own. Each choice cuts deeply, tears at His sanity." A slight smile, soft and sweet, and a frisson of true panic ran down the broad back. "By killing you, I cause pain to the Original Liar. I will be the one to kill him, no one else."

The blond turned his back and went about his preparations, setting out a series of small bowls Frin recognized from the kitchen and a set of knives and needles, all spotlessly shining silver. 'Where the fuck is the team?' Taran must have been watching, seen what had happened, where were they? A second of doubt was shaken off. He wouldn't leave him in here, just because he teased his partner. He hoped.

There, voices in the hall, frustrated and the sound of a code being put in and metal being hit. "Fuck! What's going on? Why won't it open?" A bit muffled but clearly his partner's voice, on the verge of tears as always.

'If he gets me out of here, I'll never, ever hit him again.' At least he had the surety of knowing the gun would be steady in the pyro's hand; he's trained him, after all. There was a yank on his neck and he noticed a lead tied to the cloth rope; it was being pulled through the door handle so he would either keep it shut or suffocate if it was opened. Don't force the door. I'm tied to it.

Frin! Frin, Frin, Frin, Frin,

Shut it! He could see the start and huddle of delicate shoulders on the back of his eyelids. I'm tied to the door handle and He craned up to look at the number pad. He's pulled the electronics apart. You need a telekinetic, someone to untie me and open the door quickly, before he can kill me.

Yes, Sir. I have one with me now. We'll get you out, I promise, I'm so sorry, I should have been there, I'm sorry, I

Shut it. Another little start. You did good bringing a telekinetic with you. Get me out of here now.

Silent shock, then a burst of pleasure from the praise. Yes, Sir! Muffled commands were being given and Frin's shields slapped into place firmly, blocking any power leaks.

"It's rude to have conversations and not include everyone." Mild words and cool hands moved over his skin, leaving tiny cuts behind; thick liquid, almost a salve was rubbed in and the grey-haired man flinched at the burning, pain running up and down his arms. His skin was too sensitized, recent wounds too raw to allow him to ignore even the small injuries. "Those aren't very good painkillers, are they? We should try these." More little cuts on his chest were treated; no pain, just a bit of numbness. "Better."

A little pill was pushed between pain tight lips and a thin hand covered Frin's nose and mouth, cutting off his breathing until he swallowed. "Good boy."

A complete lack of concern for the team getting in and he had to ask. "They're coming for me. Aren't you worried?" Something was happening, the pill nearly dissolved on his tongue before he could swallow and a curious mental numbness was spreading. 'What did he give me?'

"No." White shook quickly as he rubbed a soft cloth over the burning skin. "The first three in will die, and you. After that?" Amber shone and one shoulder moved in a half shrug. "Who knows?"

'Oh God.' Frin didn't think he'd ever been actually scared of anything until that moment. 'Don't open the door!' Too late, the tether at his neck was already unraveling, the door starting to swing open.

There was a soft clink and a bowl started to fall, tipping liquid onto the intruders as an elastic snapped, sending needles slashing through the air from the sides. The blond wrapped a hand in the tight dark shirt and yanked, pulling his captive past him and into a corner, out of the way. Both telekinetics automatically formed shields above themselves and the team, protecting them from the upper, front, and side threats as knives zipped forward, freezing in place.

There was a rapid series of pops as the lock clicked uselessly in place, trying to operate with the destroyed mechanism; Frin's eyes widened further as he watched an elastic pull tighter and tighter with each click. He tried to call out but there was a hard hand over his mouth, and his telekinesis was disabled; there was a loud snap and the elastic broke, sending thin blades cutting deeply into the backs and throats of the men in the rear. Strangled cries and three men fell, clutching their wounds; both telekinetics and a guard lay writhing on the floor.

"Drop your weapons!" One hand held a gun, the other a flame, dark eyes bright and steady. "Release Frin and step away." The only one left, small, thin, no where near a match for the vicious boy.

'No, shit, get back, you damn brat!' He barely had time to finish his mental sentence, the blond throwing another knife; his little partner darted to the side, a line of flame brushing the bloody white shirt. 'Wheat, get back!'

Laughter, he was laughing, knives spread between his fingers, white hair dancing with his movements. "Why?"

"Why what?" A slight frown from the small pyrokinetic. "I'm here to get Frin, give him to me."

A smug little smirk and metal flashed as the blond juggled his weapons teasingly, making his opponent shift his weight in preparation of dodging. "Why do you want him back? He's a bad partner, he doesn't give a damn about you, and he hits you when he feels like it. Why do you want him back?"

"How…" Full lips tightened and the gently rounded chin rose in defiance. "It doesn't matter. He's mine." The flickering flame grew, burning steadily. "Give him to me."

Thin lips tilted. "No." Knives flew in a scattered pattern, impossible to avoid and Frin could only watch the sharp blades slice into the flat stomach, the lean back arch in shock, pain flit over the timid face. Flames danced for a moment, trying to form a wall for protection before dying slowly

"Wheat! Get up, you fucking stupid brat!" And for the first time, he regretted giving him such a crappy name; his eighth partner, a skinny little French kid he'd meant to mock. "Get up!" A faint whimper but no motions to get up, just pained wriggling on the floor.

One slow step was followed by another as the blond edged closer, listening to the soft cries, a knife balanced carefully in his hand. Barely a shift in position, a soft intake of breath and he went flying back, followed by fire, clear and harsh in its heat. The smell of charred meat and cloth surrounded Frin as he was shoved forward, the blond burrowing under his back. "Stop, Wheat, stop!" In an instant, the flame was gone, the room cold as always and the older man watched the small body on the floor relax completely into unconsciousness.

Pleased giggles from behind him and the large man snarled, throwing himself backwards, ignoring the shooting pains and awkward movements. He only hit the wall, the blond scrambling out from behind him and crawling over to poke his partner, prodding the bleeding cuts. "Leave him alone, you little fucking bastard."

"Why? You don't care, you'll just get another." A soundless snarl from his captive. "I'm bored. We should continue experiments before they try again." White shook, a mock pout sliding the bottom lip out. "They underestimated me again. It's so boring to play when everyone thinks you're a helpless child." Delighted laughter and the knives were collected, bodies shoved out of the room easily, the heavy door slammed shut.

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Darias raced down the hall, book in hand and shirt half open; he'd been in medical getting his arm looked at when his shields gave and hate slammed though him. It had to be Farfarello; no one else was untrained with that kind of hate. Taran hadn't answered his call but he was unhurt and giving orders, so he left him alone and went to collect his only bargaining chip. Schuldig was still unconscious from blood loss and shock and there was no guarantee he would survive a move.

"Farfarello? It's Darias. Let me in please." Nothing was visible through the window, just blank walls and he sent a nudge to his partner. Where is he?

Not here. He's in there, door's closed. The older man sounded frazzled and worn, exhausted from the probable loss of another telepath. Don't be stupid.

Yes, sir. A hint of smile; affection from his partner was rare. We'll get him out, Taran. The younger partner tried again, hand pressed to the window. "Farfarello, I brought you that book. Remember? I was going to teach you about empaths." White hair popped up and a gold eye peeked at him, blue covering the other side of his face. A large swelling on the right cheek was dark and blood flecked the pale skin and slightly frazzled hair.

"Where is it?" Interest.

'Thank God.' The empath swallowed and held up his text, letting the blond read the cover. "If you let me in, I'll give it to you."

"You'll give it to me later, you promised." A wide grin, teeth gleaming, contrasting sharply with the blood spattered on the death white face. "If I let you in, you'll take my experiment."

"An experiment? Is that what you've been making today?" A quick bob of the head and it vanished. "Farfarello! Farfarello, come back and talk to me. What kind of experiment are you doing?"

'Come on, come on, where is he?' A scream burst through the door, blood droplets scattering over the window, and agony flailed at the empath, staggering him against the door.

"Did you feel it?" The white head was bouncing, bright eye eagerly awaiting his reaction.

Ragged gasps, Taran's voice clear in his head demanding to know what was happening, and Darias leaned his head against the window, glass cool against his skin. "Yes." Shit, shit, what happened to his shields? He tested them quickly; still mostly intact, just a tiny breach from earlier but nothing new. "Just a second, don't do that again." Disappointment, curiosity, a bit of annoyance, emotions sliding over the unusually expressive face. "What kind of tests are you doing?" Distract him, maybe, maybe he could talk his way in and…what? Take his experiment away? 'What the hell are we going to do?'

"Medical. I'm testing the effects of various medicines as irritants, painkillers, sedatives, and poisons." Glee shone and the teen wriggled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Needles flickered between his fingers but no new cuts appeared, the thick fluid dripping from the sharp points carefully avoided. "Have to be careful, he's not good like me, he moves around a lot." A mock annoyed look at the floor and Darias suddenly realized exactly where Frin was.

The next thought was, 'Oh shit, he's playing at imitating the doctors, he's repeating what they say.' Almost exactly. But where did he get things to test?

Number 7JW29 was training to be a doctor. I just checked, her bag and book of natural herbs are missing and were probably left in there. Cleaning wasn't aware they were supposed to look for it and it wasn't visible. His partner's voice was soothing in his head, running calming fingers over his nerves, even agitated.

'Okay, alright, we can handle this.' Taran, go get Schuldig. You'll need to carry him and bring a doctor. Bring one of my textbooks, the blue one on the bottom right shelf. We'll bribe him into a trade. Agreement came back and the empath felt his older partner begin to give orders. "Farfarello, come here. I want to talk to you." A pale hand waved at him but the boy didn't appear; pain and fear trickled through the door but not the shocking agony of before. "Farfarello, why don't you tell me about your experiment?"

The teen popped up again, licking a blade and talking around it. "Today we are testing painkillers as skin irritants. We are also testing sedatives and their affect on paranormal talents." Which explained the telepath's silence. For a second the boy looked put out and took the knife from his mouth. "But this subject is stubborn and difficult. He also takes a long time to show effects and for the samples to wear off, even in low doses. We are most displeased."

'Now where would he get all that?' He sounded like a television commercial, or one of those tacky science shows. "Farfarello, why are you doing this experiment?"

A thin brow rose at him and the blond looked like he believed Darias to be the biggest idiot in the world. "Because I am bored, of course. You took Guilt away from me and didn't give me any new toys. At least none that don't break easily." His eye was clear and serious, completely sane. "This is a boring place, with no one to play with."

Boredom. Of course. The dark head shook in amazement; this school had been termed hell, a torture chamber, a slaughterhouse, but he'd never, in twenty three years, heard it be called boring. Taran, where are you?

Just around the corner. He's still out and I have a doctor with me.

Ok, stay there for a second. "Farfarello, would you let me have Frin if I gave you Schuldig? I also have two books for you, so you won't be bored anymore."

The bright eye closed for long seconds and Darias licked his lips nervously; there was no telling what the blond was doing now. "No. Guilt wouldn't be any fun, he's asleep."

Okay, plan B. Taran, take Schuldig back, please. He won't trade for him. Leave the doctor. "Farfarello, would you consider a new subject?" White tilted at him curiously. 'Good, at least he'd paying attention.' The empath took a step back from the door, letting the blond get a better look at him. "I volunteer as a test subject. May I come in? I swear I won't try to take Frin away until we reach an agreement."

Pale hair disappeared and pain washed over the empath's shields, fear, panic, anger, a variety as the boy thought. Or at least he assumed he was thinking, he might have simply decided he was bored with their discussion. Long minutes of silence, only the ebb and flow of emotions, and the door swung open quietly, a slight scrape where it was just off the frame; a remainder from the earlier skirmish.

"You may come in." Taran yelled in his mind as the brunet walked through the door and shut it behind him. "Sit."

Darias settled on his knees, careful not to look at Frin, who was huddled in a ball on the floor, blood covering his usually neat clothes. "Thank you. Why don't you tell me what kind of experiments you want to do?"

"Ones that hurt." Dark hair nodded briefly. "Ones from the book."

"What book?" The herbal tome was held up and the brunet held out his hand. "May I?" It was handed over and he thumbed through, flipping stiff pages quickly. "How much of this do you understand? I can help you with that. Also, the empathy books are included with me. I can be very useful in understanding them."

Silence and the blond wandered around him, poking his arm and touching his hair lightly. "Ok."

"There are still the details to work out. Will you sit?" A soft thud and the teen settled behind him, something sharp trailing his spine. "No killing, no permanent harm. When Schuldig wakes up, I wish to be traded for him. I will deal with meals, anyone who comes to the door, and let you do your experiments. I would like to have some time to see Taran in the evening but I'll stay here with you all the time. Does that sound alright?"

Soft humming and warm air brushed his collar. "Guilt will not wake for at least a day."

"Then I'll be here until then." Heat seeped into his back from the thinner body and a sharp chin rested on his shoulder. 'He's grown so much lately, how big will he get?' He was as tall as Darias and if he kept it up would surpass Taran within the month. A shift of the slim body behind him and the lean chest pressed firmly to his back, long legs spread around his hips and slender arms wrapped around his waist.

"Will you take Guilt's place?" There was a hint of Irish lilt, a melodic brush of words that made the brunet smile.

His hand lifted ran over the soft curls, trailing his fingers through. "No." The empath opened his shields a bit, cautious but there was only calm boredom, and a bit of loneliness. Even if he was faking most of it, of course Farfarello would be lonely after over three months of constant company. "I'm just here for a while. I have to go back to Taran, but you'll have Schuldig back." Quiet humming against his neck and he closed his eyes to relax.

It might be stupid, and Taran would bitch him out later, but they were just boys, unbalanced and dangerous, but still boys. "Farfarello, I'd like to move Frin out. He needs a doctor." Slightly rough white moved against his cheek in a nod. "I need you to help me or for someone to come help carry him." The dark head turned slowly, tilting away so they didn't hit each other and looked into the yellow eye. "Will you help me, please?"

"No. You can do it." Warmth was removed from his back, the legs at his sides curling back easily, a brush of the smaller body against him. "I did."

A dark brow rose at the statement; how could he lift a man twice his weight and nearly three times his size? The brunet remained silent and brushed his pants off as he stood. His first good look at Frin made him swallow heavily but he still took the steps to kneel beside him. "Frin? Frin, it's Darias. I'm going to take you to the door now, alright?" A low groan had him flinching again and he untied the thick arms to let them drop heavily before sliding his hands carefully around the heavy waist.

Blood caked the older man's entire body, tiny cuts covering every available part of his skin, some red and inflamed, some deep and bleeding sluggishly. Cloth bandages were wrapped around much of his body, covering wide slices and skinned areas that could be felt as the smaller man started to lift. As he pushed, staggering to his feet, shoulder planted firmly under a thick arm, the front of the telepath's pants fell open and Darias choked, stumbling to his knees at the sight of the bright red bandage. 'What happened?'

White clad legs appeared in front of him and he looked up to see the blond watching him quietly. A long bang was tucked behind a small ear as they stared at each other. Finally, the thinner body knelt, shifted an arm over his shoulders and heaved, standing with little effort; Darias bounced up and slipped under the other arm. Pain radiated from the older trainer as they took slow steps to the door and he was shoved out, his weight sending Darias staggering again, falling against the guard who reached out to steady them. They lowered Frin to the floor and the doctor started wrapping his wounds immediately while the limp body was lifted onto a stretcher.

The door closed quietly behind them and Darias stared at it for a long minute. Was he free? Excused from duty? Silence from the other side and he prodded Taran, hoping he was in contact with whoever was watching from the observation room. What's he doing?

There was a minute of silence. Wandering around, gathering his knives. Looks calm, a bit tired, he's settled with paper and pencil. Relief flowed to him through the bond and he smiled. Good job, Dar. Looks like Wheat's gonna make it.

A quick smile at the mention of Frin's partner; a sweet young man, timid, shy, but completely devoted. That's really good. Hopefully Frin too. It would destroy Wheat to be left alone, without his beloved partner. A brief pause while he picked up his books and claimed the emergency medical supplies left in the rush to the medical ward. Taran, I'm going back in.

A squawk of outrage and his body seized up, refusing to move. You are not going back in there. Get your ass to medical and get checked out.

The empath smiled to himself and twisted his talent, sending a flash of panic and shock back at his partner, enough to loosen the grip on his body. Taran, I have to. I promised. The push of emotion was kept up long enough for him to open the door and step through. Love you, see you this evening. Rage flashed at him before he shut down his talent completely, closing off any contact.