Breakdown

Chapter 23: Red

Schuldig didn't sit as he normally did upon entering his leader's office. He couldn't, for fear that if he stopped moving he would explode from all the pent-up anger. So instead he paced, burning a rut in the carpet as Crawford sat calmly behind his desk, watching him.

"Well!?" the German growled when he got tired of listening to his own heavy breathing and not Crawford's explanation as to what had gone on during the mission. "Don't you have something to say to me?"

"Not presently, no. But I'm sure you have a question you want answered," the American replied calmly and Schuldig bristled.

"Yeah I got a fucking question, Bradley. I asked you already! What the fuck happened to your face?"

"It got a little rough with the kitten. Anything else?"

"Oh, I bet it got rough," the German snarled. "I've taken part in my fair share of rough play, Bradley. I know that's a bite. What'd you do? Fall onto the kitty's lips!?"

Crawford's mouth quirked into a taunting half smile, "Leaned into them, actually…It's as you put it Schuldig. Just a little bit of rough play between Abyssinian and I."

The redhead lost it then, kicking over a chair as he let out a feral growl. "So THAT'S it!?" he yelled, slamming his hands down on Crawford's desk, "THAT'S why you wanted me to stick to Balinese? So you could have some alone time with your new pet!?"

"You catch on quickly." Crawford observed. "I'm happy I don't have to spell it out for you."

"Oh I think you fucking DO, Bradley!" Schuldig continued his angry tirade, a cover for his hurt. "What the hell are you playing at?!" If Crawford had wanted someone to fuck around with, he was ready, willing and able. Had been for ages and his leader knew it. Why couldn't he have come to him instead of going to the enemy?

"I'm getting under his skin, Schuldig. Having a little fun with Abyssinian. So keep your voice down and your jealousy at bay."

Schuldig sneered. As if it was possible for him not to be jealous. "You kissed him?" he snapped, not needing an answer, but wanting to hear an admission all the same.

"I did," said Crawford, his smirk widening, "And HE managed to stay conscious."

"Arschloch!" The telepath's eyes flared along with his temper at the jab to his ego, and he angrily swiped the neatly stacked papers off the Oracle's desk, yelling curses in every language he knew before leaning forward over the desk. "Why are you doing this to me, Bradley!?" he demanded.

A dark eyebrow rose as Crawford sat back in his chair, distancing himself from the German. "What makes you think this has anything to do with you, Schuldig?"

"Maybe because you're being such an asshole to me all of a sudden. We're supposed to be teammates, but you're lying and keeping things from me. I mean—I act as your fucking chauffeur and I don't even get a thank you, and you piss on me for everything I do. What gives?"

"Are you honestly asking me that question? You're the one who's suddenly acting childish and giving me reason to berate you."

"Oh. THIS is all MY fault."

"Is that a question or an admission?" Crawford asked simply and something snapped in Schuldig then. Had he been in a more lucid state of mind, he would have asked if Crawford had also heard the loud pop, but instead he just lunged over the desk and tackled his boss, knocking him and the chair to the ground, his hands firmly around the American's neck, squeezing. Crawford wasn't down for long however. He grabbed the redhead's right forearm tightly, and with the palm of his other hand, shoved upwards, nearly dislocating the telepath's arm at the elbow. Schuldig screeched in pain and let go and was promptly shoved to the ground, cradling his hurt arm while he moaned.

The American stood up calmly and straightened his clothes, rubbing his neck for only a few seconds before dropping his arm back to his side and narrowing his gaze down at his teammate. "Are you through with your tantrum or do you plan to continue? If so, tell me now so I can save time and perhaps break your arm this time."

Schuldig merely gave a defeated whimper and stared at the ground, the fight leaving him as quickly as it had come. The Oracle took this opportunity to right his chair and recollect all the papers the redhead has strewn on the floor. As he finished straightening up, Schuldig spoke again.

"Why him?" he asked in a quiet, miserable voice.

"Why not?" Crawford replied, "He's repressed and vulnerable."

"…so that's what you go for? An ice queen with a stick up his ass?"

"Oh I doubt there's been any stick up his ass as of yet, but I may change that."

The redhead tried to laugh derisively, but it only came out as a whimper as he struggled to sit up and lean against the drawers of Crawford's desk. He stiffened as he felt a hand reach under his elbow and one slide under his arm, helping him to his feet. He couldn't bring himself to turn and face his leader, and he hated himself for enjoying his touch, even if the man had hurt him moments before.

His arm was practically broken and he still wanted to shove his tongue down Crawford's throat. How pathetic could he be?

Schuldig flinched as Crawford moved his hand from his underarm to his neck, gently playing with his long hair before combing it out of the way with his fingers so he could whisper in his ear. "This is the second time you've attacked me, Schuldig," Crawford said in a quiet, authoritative voice, with a slight hint of malice mixed in for good measure. "I could easily report you to Esset."

The German felt his heart plummet into his stomach at the those words, but he kept up a strong enough façade, even going so far as to make his own threat. "…I could tell on you too, Bradley…"

Crawford purred deeply and leaned closer, warm breath ghosting over Shuldig's ear as he spoke. "You know you won't, Schuldig. You wouldn't want to hurt the man you love..." And with that, he pulled away, leaving the telepath stunned and shaking where he stood. Schuldig didn't even get a chance to reply before Crawford had gone and shut the office door behind him, leaving him with those lovely parting words to mull over and a throbbing elbow.

Apologies to Schu's fans if you think he's getting a rough deal. Can't help making Crawford such a bastard, but there should be happy times on the horizon for the poor telepath…Maybe. Hopefully!