Breakdown
Chapter 5: Crawford
Crawford had been giving it at least half an hour, but even that appeared to have been wishful thinking. Twenty minutes was all it took for the German redhead to realize that he was gone and to make contact.
/Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Schuldig/ Crawford began tiredly through the mental link that Schuldig had just opened.
The telepath laughed. /So hostile, mein fuehrer. I haven't done anything wrong yet./
/I have difficulty believing that Schuldig, you're always doing something wrong./
/Not…always/ Even Schuldig seemed to have trouble getting that statement out.
/Always/ Crawford confirmed /And you were told to stay in the house./
/No I wasn't/
/Perhaps no one told you out loud, but I'm sure you got my message one way or another./
/Well, how do you know I'm not at home right now/
/Are you/ Crawford asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
/No. But I only went out because I didn't know where you were./
Crawford rolled his eyes, even though the German could not see the gesture /You didn't have to leave the house to find that out/
/Yes I did/ Schuldig replied /You wouldn't have told me if I'd asked./
Very true.
Crawford sighed. /That is because what I do with my time is none of yours, or anyone else's business, Schuldig./
/Not true, Schnuckel. Someone has to worry about your tight American ass. And I'm the martyr who's taken on the task/
Crawford pinched the bridge of his nose and sent a hint of his aggravation through the link. /Call me that again, Schuldig, and I will shoot you./
Schuldig snorted /Ja ja, You always threaten to shoot me. You need to be more inventive./
/Then how would you like to die/ Crawford asked in exasperation.
Schuldig didn't miss a beat /Erotic asphyxiation/ he said and Crawford could feel the leer through the link.
The precog growled. Schuldig didn't even take threats seriously.
/You won't kill me anyway/ The German pointed out. /I'm just too cute and utterly fuckable./
Crawford took a steadying breath. /No. Now try again./
/Because you love me, then./ Schuldig offered.
And then Crawford was silent. He was silent for quite some time while he thought over those words. It wasn't that they were the truth; it was that Schuldig sounded so hopeful that he would hear a yes. Crawford couldn't give him one.
/Well where are you/ Schuldig changed the focus of the conversation when he realized he was going to be listening to dead air for a while if he didn't. Crawford noticed that he didn't sound quite so amused anymore.
The precog sighed. /Away from you, Schuldig, which is what I needed./
Crawford felt a sudden wash of hurt through the link and suddenly Schuldig ended their mental conversation, muttering one word before the link closed. Arschloch.
Crawford knew that Schuldig wasn't going to go home now. The German would make a point to stay out as late as he could, partying in a club somewhere, consoling himself with alcohol and the company of scantily clad individuals.
Schuldig could be such a child sometimes. Crawford just prayed that the redhead stayed out of serious trouble. He went overboard when he was upset because he was such a slave to his emotions. He wished that the telepath could control his feelings the way he was able to. Schuldig wouldn't be as much of a loose canon if he did.
The German, like Crawford, had strong mental barriers, though it wasn't so much for privacy's sake as it was for sanity's. Schuldig had to be able to block out the thoughts of everyone around him otherwise he would get overwhelmed by them all. The trouble was when he was upset, his ability to block out outside interference decreased.
This fact made Crawford worry about the redhead more than the other members of his team. Schuldig was just too powerful a telepath and he became a danger to himself and everyone around him if he ever lost control of his ability.
And an upset telepath loose on the town was a recipe for disaster.
It made Crawford angrier than he had been before. He had walked out of the house to get away from Shuldig and his antics. He wanted a little peace, but Schuldig had dashed that hope just by being Schuldig. Crawford knew that he was going to be spending the rest of the evening worrying about the German redhead.
Sometimes he really hated that man.
He tried to open up the mental link but Schuldig had shut him out.
No surprise.
Crawford cursed quietly and got up from his seat on the park bench. It appeared as though he wouldn't be calmly watching the sunset after all.
He flipped open his cell phone as he walked down the path and called home. Nagi picked up on the second ring. He could hear Farfarello happily chanting 'kill you' in the background.
"If Shuldig comes home, MAKE him stay there," Crawford said, getting right to the point, "And if you hear from him…tell him I want him home." Not that he wasn't certain that the order would be disobeyed by the redhead if ever he got it.
"Can I play with 'im?" Farfarello had picked up one of the other phones in the house to join in on the conversation.
Crawford sighed. The offer was tempting, but he would figure out what to do with the redhead once he'd gotten him home. "I haven't decided what to do with him yet," he told the Irishman. "It all depends on how much trouble he's caused before I track him down."
Farfarello laughed giddily and hung up the phone. The albino most likely took those words as a good sign that he'd get to play with the German. Everyone knew how Schuldig liked to misbehave.
"Is that clear, Nagi?" Crawford addressed the boy again; making sure his words had been heard and understood.
"Yes. Schuldig stays here. And if he gets in touch, I tell him to come home."
"Right," said Crawford, "And make sure to put Farfarello to bed…And don't stay up too late, Nagi. You have school tomorrow."
Nagi groaned at the fatherly comment before he said his goodbye and hung up the phone.
Crawford clicked off his cell and stuffed it back into his pocket.
It was going to be a very…very long night.
Crawford had a feeling that he might have to use his gun on himself well before he caught up with the German telepath. Clubs and skin bars were not his cup of tea and he knew that he'd be visiting quite a number of them in his search for Schuldig.
Suddenly the thought of handing Schuldig over to the Farfarello was even more attractive than it was before.
Farfarello had been a relatively good boy recently. Maybe he deserved a bit of a reward.
But then again, the insane Irishman never did know how to play nicely with the other kids.
Crawford sighed. No matter how bad Schuldig was, his actions could never earn him a play date with Farfarello. Only the scum they killed on mission deserved to tangle with the Irishman, maybe the Weiss kittens as well.
Though gift wrapping Schuldig and presenting him to Farfarello was a mildly comforting thought that Crawford felt might just get him through a night of searching for the telepath.
Crawford just wished he knew where to start. He didn't know the names or locations of any of the places the German frequented. So he would have to rely entirely on guess work and simple observation—If a place was loud, somewhat grungy, and swarming with half-dressed people, then it was probably right up Schuldig's alley.
Crawford squeezed the bridge of his nose as he came upon the strip of nightclubs and bars. He was already getting a headache.
Morning couldn't come soon enough.