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Chapter 23

Russian Doll

We had to get out of there, so we left there, simple as that. Abandoned. I don't think things had moved this fast in a long time, no time to stop, no time to breathe, no time to look over your shoulder at the gun pointed at your head. No time, because if you did then you were caught, and if one of us went then everything was going to fall apart.

That was the written future.

Well, that's the sort of talk that comes from having a Fortune Teller in your presence. You're never left wanting for information, unless of course he wasn't forthcoming with this information. Then you just had to persuade; not as easy as it sounds. But, wait…I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first; we had left, left our home of short notice and that blood stained couch and the attic where I saw him last. It may have been short lived in but it was full of memories, strange that it was possible ne? Yet, when in a time of such hatred and danger memories are cherished like diamonds; rare and more beautiful than anything else around you. That sight…

…that sight of him, just standing there with that distant look on his face, head turned up towards the window, the ceiling far above us, the moonlight splayed out over the floorboards…

I missed it already. I missed having four strong walls around me, now replaced with the metal shell of Yoji's beloved car. "Safe" he may preach it, yet there's a lot to be said for brick and mortar. I felt very open; very, very exposed to the world. That world that I felt was watching me, every face turning towards mine, eyes boring into my face. I felt like the entire population of Japan must be looking for us, must be reporting us to…well, whoever the hell had taken over Esset I suppose.

Odd that. I hadn't even really begun to think about it yet…well, it's just that I don't even know my enemy. Except for…

-I'm not even going to say it to myself,- I thought disconsolately.

Blood, blood, blood. That's all the world had turned into; blood and space and eyes and searching. Fleeing. The rock of the car as it stopped at a set of lights made my stomach turn over on itself. I hated it when we stopped…everyone walking past stared inside, right at me. I didn't even try to use the excuse that it was because it was an unusual car that usually drew attention anyway, it was too inconspicuous an excuse. I didn't want to try and delude myself, not when we were in a situation like this.

Windows flashing past, air filled with voices and sweat. Was it my own? Shops, bright neon, dark alleys. Staring eyes.

"Eh Ken? Ken?"

The voice was both sudden and expected. I turned my head lethargically to the driver's seat. The wind whipped my hair and I blinked to keep my vision acute. Yoji's eyes were covered by yet another pair of sunglasses, but I didn't have to see them to know they were anxious. I could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he gripped the steering wheel too tightly.

"Say again?" I muttered over the wind.

"I said that this seems a little hasty don't you think?"

"Hey, necessity is the mother of invention," I shrugged, "its not rash it's just essential."

"Huh," he replied, pushing his foot down to keep up with the car in front as we slipped out of the busy inner city, "and here I was thinking I could rely on you to back me up on that at least."

I didn't reply. I just stared at the little bobbing red lights tearing away in front of us, leading us forwards. That car full of enemies, a vessel of danger. The Schwartz, the newcomers. All together and leading us; and we followed. I guess I can't complain about them really, well I mean in this situation who's the bigger fool; the fool or the fool who follows him? If they were going towards danger then we were just as idiotic to follow them as they were to head for it.

Yet it had been a rash decision, Yoji was right. To trust that boy, however innocent he seemed, with that cock and bull story about destiny and a meeting and…I can't even remember it all. Hadn't been listening properly I guess, got distracted. I had been getting really distracted lately. Yet I had still known that I had thought the story was a pile of crap. They had, however, saved Yoji's life and, in my book, that scores a hell of a lot of points. That had been my reason for agreeing to let them come with us; I had no idea what the others reasons were. A lame excuse it might be, but then perhaps I was just searching for any reason to run from…everything.

My mind was alive with inconsistencies tonight. I mean just think, I called them enemies, but then hadn't I just saved one of them, helped save one of them with my own hands? I could see the blood pouring out now in my mind eye, feel it moving oily over my hands as I carried that dead weight. What was I thinking? What was I doing? Things were changing so fast I couldn't keep up. I couldn't tell the difference between friend and foe any more, my mind was a mine field of deception and truth. Yet I was blind, stepping randomly across it. I couldn't see them, any of them, friends, enemies, killers, saviours…

"You okay?" Yoji's voice was windswept and seemed distant as my mind continued to wonder.

"Oh, just great," I sighed, "don't ask me that okay? You know how much I hate it."

"…What? Ken I mean it, are you alright, you don't, well…"

"Don't what?" I felt my eyes turn angry as they fixed on him, my face cold and unyielding.

"Sound like yourself," he said with a frown, "you don't sound like yourself."

"What the heck's that supposed to mean?" I flared passively, "Who do I sound like then?"

"I don't know," Yoji bit back, braking hard at a set of lights, "just not yourself."

I didn't feel like myself. Truth be told, I kind of agreed with him, I had been acting strangely recently. However, things weren't exactly normal themselves. This was the worst it had ever been in my living memory. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be reacting anymore, I was just letting myself react. I was letting my instincts take over, and if this was how my instincts would have me react to this sort of situation then heck, it must be the way I deal with it!

Right?

God, this atmosphere was killing me. I had never felt so brooding and yet self possessed at the same time. I had, had never been so ruthlessly cold before, it…Yoji was right, it wasn't like me at all. Oh kuso, damn I don't know what to think anymore. I mean I gave up thinking about three weeks ago, so no wonder I couldn't keep up.

The whole world was dark and light. So sharp in contrast that it made my eyes blur to watch it; street lights, shadows, headlights, bleak, moon, the road in front. Back and forth, back and forth. Something was watching me, I could feel it. In the light and the dark, from both the eyes seemed to come. I felt sick again just thinking about it.

Then suddenly, so suddenly it left my head reeling from the loss, the light was gone. We were escaping the city, us and that little pair of bobbing red lights speeding away. Everything was so dark that I couldn't even imagine how many eyes could be staring at us from this abyss of darkness. I was becoming so paranoid that I could hardly imagine being safe ever again. I started to feel danger welling in me, twisting my insides, making me feel like everyone around me was staring at me, even Yoji and he was supposed to be driving the car! I couldn't do it, I couldn't live like this…I had to know I was needed, I had to know people cared about me!

I couldn't survive with the whole world watching my loneliness.

Being an injured Schwartz really isn't fun. You would think that being injured was bad enough, yes? Well being an injured member of an elite fighting unit, the rest of whom are well and fine, makes it an oh so much less enjoyable experience.

Alright, so I over exaggerate. Nagi is great to be around when you're hurt just because he can't help but be helpful, fussing, looking after you. It's kind of fun to have someone fuss over you I think, even though most people find it annoying I quite like it.

Then Farferello, well there isn't really much to say about him I suppose, other than he's the start of the problem. He tends to stare at you if you're hurt, like you might drop down dead any moment. Either that or he's trying to make you drop down dead with that strangely curious yet surreptitiously manic stare. It's not easy to ignore, even if you close your own eyes, because you can still feel them on you.

Then Brad, of curse I had to leave him till last. Well they say though, no? Leave the best till last? The climax of your point to the penultimate moment? Well that would be Crawford, of course. He always does the same thing, every time. That unbearable look of unconcern, an extreme aversion to taking any notice of you at all you and also a severe drop in tolerance. You cannot get into a fight with Crawford after you have been inured on a mission (especially a mission he sees as failed) or something very, very bad is going to happen to you. It was bad enough the way he had been acting recently anyway, but to have this now too, just when I was feeling my lowest; it made me, well…mad.

And when I get mad I get sloppy. I wasn't really in the mood, or the situation for that matter, to get sloppy.

We had stolen a van from a parking lot. Can you believe it? Schwarz degraded to common car thieves, yet it was and easy way to get quickly to one of the safe houses. Weiss had brought their own car. From there we picked up an un-designated van, something Crawford had bought purely for emergencies, and loaded into it. There hadn't been enough room for all of us so Crawford let two Weiss take their own car and we kept the smallest Weiss with us in the van.

Sure we were working together, but that didn't mean we were anywhere near the point of trusting each other. Hell, I'd been working with Crawford for a long time and I don't think he even trusts me yet. There wasn't a lot of hope for this union, but then I had thought that from the start. It seemed doomed to pair us together. Just like earlier this very same day, when we had been forced to split into two vehicles, we couldn't even decide on it properly. Siberian and Balinese had wanted to stay as a group with Bombay while letting us lead the way with the strangers. Of course Brad had been completely adamant that this was not going to happen. We needed assurance that Weiss would follow. Balinese gave his sincere word.

It was not accepted.

I tell you know the tension had been so high between those two I thought it was going to end in a fight right there; right there in the middle of a crisis and we were about to start fighting each other. If Bombay hadn't taken that giant leap of faith and decided to sacrifice his own safety by coming with us then I think things could have gone hideously wrong.

Not that they hadn't gone hideously wrong already.

The van may have been just for emergencies, but gratefully it was still comfortable. I was propped back against a large seat at the back, strapped in tight against the plush cover, my bandages fresh and fitting. Nagi sat in front of me to the left, the two strangers across the gap to Nagi's right. Bombay sat in the window seat in front of the strangers and stared into the driver's area as if either possessed or extremely paranoid. Thankfully Farf was safely caged up front with Crawford who was driving. I was glad he couldn't stare at me the whole journey, although I had caught his eye in the rear view mirror a few times. I was glad that I could move out of its view with ease.

Nagi seemed tense when I looked to him. His small frame dwarfed by the van's large, comfortable seats. I guess I knew how he felt. I wasn't really sure where we were going other than Brad had said it was safe and so for some reason that I can't fathom, that was supposed to be good enough for all of us. See what I mean about how he is when someone "lets him down"? His personality, what little there was of it in the first place, goes down the drain. Problem is that he ends up taking it out on everyone, and Nagi usually takes it the worst. Stupid teenage insecurities. Hell, I had never had any so why should he? He's just making it harder on himself. He shouldn't take it all so personally. But then…

God, that's me tonight, introspective central! Is that what being wounded does to me? Is that why I have avoided it like the plague before? Perhaps it's not the fact that it hurts like hell, or it turns your team mates into psycho's and icebergs; it seems it could be the fact that it makes me a brooding idiot. Ha, if only life were so very simple.

Simple, very unlike our life right now. I had been almost killed too many times over the last couple of days. Never have had so many close calls in such a short space of time. But then, Crawford has always been there to help us on that small factor. Well, not always but…introspective again. Can't help myself can I?

"Umm, Mr. Spencer?"

What? Who? Large violet eyes were suddenly staring at me from over the op of the seat nearest the window on my right. The youngest stranger was staring at me with innocent shyness. Spencer?

Oh, of course. I had told him that as a cover name. Pretty shoddy really, but then it didn't have to be anything special. I could see Nagi looking at me curiously, trying to figure out the meaning behind the young ones words.

"It's Schuldich," I said back with weary sigh as Nagi seemed to figure out what was happening and began to snigger quietly to himself, "that's my real name."

"Oh, that's a nice name!" he perked up, "Very unusual. German right?"

"Right," I said flatly.

"Well, I just wanted to ask if, you know, you were feeling alright? After your wounds and everything?" his gaze was utterly sincere.

I just loved the way he used the word "after", as if a wound is only effective during the moment of its execution. Like it doesn't hurt like bloody hell while it's healing up, while you're having your sorry ass dragged back to a house full of former enemies who have to then save said "sorry ass" from bleeding to death. "After", don't make me laugh kid.

"Fine," I found myself saying, even after my own vicious little mental diatribe; I wasn't quite sure why, but I found it very hard to be nasty to this kid.

"Oh, I'm glad," he said with a smile, "only I was worried we had come to late to help you, and Tatsuha here was all "let's just go while we still can" and I was like "no, we can't just leave them there!" and than he said…"

"He said sit down and shut up before I make you."

The cold voice that I had heard before was laced not only with anger this time, but also with something sounding a little like embarrassment. The long blonde hair of the young Yami's companion, Tatsuha by name, was all that I could see of our other new arrival. I had to admit, I had thought that Abyssinian's stark red hair had been exotic and seditious, but this man's hair was just so far off that scale it was in a class of its own. It was purely a rebellion all in itself. It had been tied when we first met, but somewhere along the way the tie seemed to have come loose and his hair was left to tumble down his back in a mass of waves and partial curls. It was light golden in colour, nothing like Yoji's deep golden chestnut, and glowed in the lights of the city as we passed through it.

"Hmm, someone's in a mood," Yami grumbled poutily, still acting blissfully as if he were not in the least bit surrounded by trained assassins.

"I told you to shut up and I mean it Yami," he said with a quick glance to his right affording me a short look at his eyes; so very, very pale blue.

This man wasn't Japanese, he couldn't be. He didn't even look human! There was something going on there that I wasn't too sure I was happy with. I wasn't sure if I was actually too happy about bringing two perfect strangers along with us anyway, but then they had saved my life, mine and Yoji's.

But why?

And more to the point, why had I save Yoji's?

Even more to the point, why was I still brooding!?

AN: Woo! Goodbye writer's block and good riddance! Whoa, took me long enough ne? Well, here you are, just another little introspective link and furthering of the plot line by about three quarters of an inch. As ever please R&R, much appreciated!