Disclaimer: No WK owned by yours truly.

Chapter 24

Sublimely

Endless darkness. The horizon had no end and no beginning.

Lost. Cold; I couldn't feel my body. I looked down to my hands but all I found was darkness, all I found was amalgamation. I was losing myself.

Sitting down; the cold had latched itself onto my legs, creeping up through my spine like circuits finding their way to my centre, my core. I was losing myself. Lost.

"Ken."

Muttered breath that didn't even condensate in this infernal place. I was trying to remember, I promise I was. Anything, something that was part of myself, part of me, not these memories that had no place in my head.

Flames and hatred; deceit and tears.

I couldn't remember getting here, I couldn't think about getting out. Anything trivial seemed to send my mind into turmoil. Simple things like the colour of my hair, what water looked like, the taste of food…my own name. I felt myself washing out at the edges, like being pulled under by some sweeping current. Only when I focused, only when I thought really hard to locate something that had to be there, could I feel any sort of wholeness, yet…it was like breaking the surface after drowning…pointless. But I just had to!

I had so many memories, I had been through so much…and now I was only so much of a man, left sitting alone.

Alone. That was one memory that had, ironically, kept me going. I remembered that much about myself. Loneliness, having it pervade my life, shackle me to a fate I didn't understand; hatred, the vastness of my hatred. Though for whom I was not sure.

I had…come here seeking shelter? Shelter from what though? Everything was such a mystery, everything so unimaginable. Hatred, the feeling was all I seemed to have left, apart from my isolation of course. It made my mind warm slightly to think of it, the isolation of it, the thought of what it meant. What did it mean? I knew, I knew! Yet, despite the knowing ache it caused in me, the odium was oddly comforting. Familiar. I tried to hold onto it, ignoring the instinctual reaction to let it go and move on…to whatever else that was supposed to be there. Yet this place was not exactly your ordinary haven, here there was…

…nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had never experienced this, never known such complete emptiness. Yet, I thought that I remembered, isolation, such isolation. A longing for it, a want so ravenous that it took me over, never let me near anyone. I had secretly longed for it; and now I had it I didn't know what to do. Yet, no, I was sure, despite my lack of memories, that I had not once longed for this, this kind of isolation. This was a loss of self.

"Ken."

The darkness, once so barren, suddenly exploded blue. I ignored it. It seemed trivial to me, this sea of blue that surrounded me so unexpectedly, it had no meaning, no connection. I couldn't place it, so it didn't matter to me. Things were becoming of little interest to me, especially things that seemed of no use. I wanted to find myself, that was all that mattered to me. I needed it even though I knew that I did not know why. This feeling that made my very heart beat too fast to live, to fast to survive. This feeling that made me want to reach out and take hold of my future and hold it to me and make sure it was real! God, I was rambling, I was desperate. What was happening to me?

The starkness of the colour, raging from indigo to cyan made me squint, made me feel like squinting. I wasn't really even sure what I was anymore. Did I even have eyes? I can't feel my legs anymore; are they even there?

I didn't have the presence of mind to look down. That simple action seeming as useless and banal as the endless blue that surrounded me. It was useless, yet…somewhere in my mind, or whatever was left of it, something twitched in response. I knew this colour, or more precisely a certain shade of its endless wastes.

I scanned down my field of vision, searing for some further spark. Nothing. I was feeling apprehensive, yet in a way I wasn't really sure if this was apprehension I was feeling. I couldn't feel anything but that link, that link to my hatred, that primal feeling. It left me drained, passive, sitting, or at least believing I was doing so, and searching in vain for something that could pull me from this void.

I just wished I could…I just wished I could remember what my face looked like.

Bam! The mirror appeared in front of me with all the force of a nuclear explosion. The force of the something from nothing made my head spin and I felt the distinct need to throw up. I forced my eyes to focus. I had started, actually started at the sight of it. There, in front of me where there had been nothing for as long as I could remember being here, sat a tall, sharp edged full length mirror. I felt a surge of input on seeing it, feeling my eyes focus and re-focus on its infinitely glossy surface.

Where? Where had it come from? And more precisely why?

It was a mirror, I knew it was a mirror, I knew because I could see myself in it. That's what mirrors were for wasn't it? It was hard to make out for it reflected the infinite blue surrounding it, fading into it. The waves of blue seemed to distort the surface making it wash backward and forwards in the ebb and flow of my tranquil surroundings. But then, the outline there…it took me a moment to recognise it. Yet the outline was all I could grasp and identify; those parts which made up the object that appeared ever so slowly on that shimmering surface were wholly unknown to me.

There. There sat a man I had never seen before. Bright red hair, contrasting to the blue, tight black sleeveless top, dark trousers, violet eyes. There was blood dripping from his left ear. He sat cross legged, his back slightly bowed, his elbows resting on his knees while his clasped hands covered his mouth and supported his chin. His gaze was unwavering, staring directly into my own. For a moment I almost found myself wondering what he was thinking; it was my own thoughts of course. Baka. This was myself I was watching.

Sudden static. The sound filled the once silent air making my ears ring. I looked around wildly. All this, all this where had it come from? My god, all this, and all I had had for as long as I could remember being here, that loneliness only moments before.

Static.

The figure in the mirror was stationary, not moving as I felt myself doing. I felt panicked by this lack of synchronisation between us, my head finding it hard to comprehend all of this without knowing enough, enough of anything. I felt…small, useless in the face of it. I couldn't explain it, it was dwarfing me, me without the knowledge to comprehend it. Still my mirror image remained immobile as I swung my head from side to side. But then, perhaps I wasn't moving, not really…I wasn't sure how to tell. Of course I felt my movement, but then my reflection was so still…who was I to disagree with my very eyes? I looked back to the figure, its cold gaze unwavering and piercing. Static; A figure emerging in the background of that endless reflection.

A figure, another figure coming into view behind my own reflection, I could see it. I felt myself gasp, I could feel the air rushing in my lungs. My reflection stared back passively. I tried hard to comprehend it all. What did it mean, all of this? It seemed so simple yet so entirely complicated. There was something there, in that gaze…

Hatred…but then the hatred in me seemed eternal.

The new figure was wavering at the edges as it came into view. It was kneeling, from what I could tell, behind the outline of my own image. It was fuzzy, buzzing in and out with the roar of the static. Then bang, just as fast as the mirror appearing, the figure was whole. The static dissipated. The world was quiet.

I knew that face. Whole brown eyes staring at me, the pupils' dark and wavering. He was behind me, I knew he must be, he was in the mirror…yet I could only look at the reflection. It smiled. I couldn't turn my head, couldn't bring myself to face another thing so new! Or was it something so familiar? What was I afraid of? Slowly the figure began to shuffle forwards on his shins, the jumper tied around his middle dragging on the floor. I could feel that heat radiating towards me from…from him.

"Ken."

The figure in the mirror smiled. Such an, innocent smile. I felt the whole blue converge and shiver at its touch, making the cold in me waver and twist. I could reach out, if I could just reach out I could…

…it had been so long, so long since I had seen…anyone…been this close to anyone. I had always been so far from him, so far in my own loneliness…he shifted closer. I could feel his arms shiver as they encircled my shoulders. What was this feeling inside of me? What was this memory that was stirring? His knees slid around my thighs and his chest felt warm against the cold in my spine. I shivered in response, closing my eyes before they could betray me. The gesture was familiar and it made me feel like turning, turning and taking hold of him and…pushing him away. I kept my eyes closed, tightly closed.

"You're alright now," the voice at my ear was muffled and accompanied by the rustling of leather, "I'm not alone."

I sighed. Lips on my shoulder, moulding to the collarbone, leaving a tickling sensation as they lifted. I opened my eyes, forced them against what was left of my will. I wanted to see him, I felt so desperate, but all I received was…the one in the mirror was smiling. Yet that was no smile etched onto those sharp features. A smirk, a cruel twist, eyes like diamonds, hard and cold. Had I…was I wearing that look? My other self in the mirror was wearing it, so why shouldn't I be? That look…that look of…malice, I almost cried out on seeing the depth of its cruelty. Was this my true nature? Was this the one that I had hoped his arms would hold? No, it couldn't be, I wouldn't accept it! But it was too late in my mind, things were coming back to me as I stared into those eyes, hurtling back too fast to catch.

Crashing walls, the sound of a million voices, the squeal of rubber on tarmac, flash of broken glasses, sound of receding gunfire over rain slicked streets; and blood. Blood everywhere…a sea, a sea of blood. Inhumane.

My eyes widened as the last image invaded my mind. What did this mean!? I felt the urge to clutch my head in agony, but I couldn't figure out how. The figure of myself only laughed then, shimmering in the grasp of those tender arms. I couldn't stand to watch it, that monstrous thing held in that pure grasp.

I turned around. I couldn't face it. That wasn't me, that figure; while I couldn't explain it to myself I knew it was true. I didn't even know who I was any more, but it definitely wasn't that. I couldn't be, oh please, not that, anything but…

"Help me," I whispered, pressing tight against that willing body, "I can't find myself."

Smell of leather and metal. Or was that blood? I didn't want to know, I didn't care.

"Don't worry," arms around my back, cheek against my neck, soft hair against my chin, "I'm not alone."

-I don't want to be alone,- I couldn't even hold onto that one constant, my loneliness which, moments before, I had held so precious, one of the few links I possessed to my misplaced past, -I don't want to hate you.-

Tears on my cheeks, not my own. The wonder of glistening russet eyes, locked on my own.

"You don't want to kill me, do you?"

"Kill…I don't want to kill anyone…"

"It's all so lost, I don't want to be lost, I'm…scared."

"I wish I knew what it was to be scared…"

"Take it from me, please, help me…"

"I can't, I don't know…what I should…"

"Hold me, I can't hold on; just hold me."

His lips trembling; so alone. Help him; help yourself. Cover them, take away the ache, don't let the cold come back. Warmth, feeling it flow from my lips to my eyes, closing them softly over that fear, softly as I embraced my saviour. Who was this man, who was this figure emerging from oblivion? Had he brought the blue? Had he brought that other one, that doppelganger? Nothing, don't think about it. Just lose yourself, that's the only way. Lose yourself in him.

Lose yourself in that one kiss that somehow you just knew had been waiting an eternity to come.

Leaning over me, that warmth.

"Ken?"

God I needed it. I needed it! Was it him? I could feel him, I smelt him too. That smell, so unique, god he was…so close…

-Aya…- my tongue darted out to wet dry lips, -…Aya…-

Mouth, I could feel breath. I groaned as I was pulled up, grabbed, lunging out to cling desperately to those arms. Hot, wet, I could feel all the hairs on his cheek as I pulled back, grazing his lips. Push forwards, surge of ecstasy, crush mouth against mouth, pure bliss…

…the way it's meant to be.

"Whoa! Hold up there!"

I was dropped unceremoniously back to the car seat. Car seat?

"Ken, are you alright?"

Had I…fallen asleep?

"Wake up dammit!"

Yep, definitely fallen asleep.

"I'm awake, you don't need to shout."

Felt like shit, yes I was definitely awake then.

"Well, next time, come out of your fantasies before you project them onto me okay?"

"Shut your mouth Kudo," I growled, opening my eyes and staring straight ahead to the ceiling above.

Ceiling. Where had we stopped? The sound of banging doors and Omi's voice drifted to my ears. I sighed.

A dream. Forget it, don't think about it. Only a dream.

"Ken what's wrong?" Omi, concerned and wide eyed.

"What?" I sniped back, sitting up fervently and jumping out of the car without even bothering to open the door.

"You're all pale…" he said with a look of rigid concern, his face mothering.

I turned from it, watching with anger as the Schwarz emptied from the truck we'd been tailing, keeping a close eye on their new friends. I crossed my arms and looked around, my eyes hard and uncaring. But I could still feel those lips…no! Don't think about it, don't torture yourself for fucks sakes!

"Where are we?"

Omi just sighed and closed his eyes. I frowned angrily at his behaviour but didn't say anything.

The car park in which we had stopped was impressively large, sweeping away in all directions before hitting the squat walls which enclosed it. The entire structure was industrial grey in colour, smattered with lights which hung in equal spacing along the walls. The uniform pillars however were made of a slightly different materiel than the rest of the basement. I ran my hand across the one nearest to me, marvelling at the smoothness of its surface; flawless. It was fashioned of highly polished granite, its surface reflecting us chaotically, distorted and misshapen. Looking around at them in turn, what with the twinning of the movement of the others and this distorted reflection, gave me a headache. Well I mean my head wasn't in the best of states at the moment anyway. I quickly located an exit elevator and a set of slim steel stairs to our far left and then looked back down to the floor. The entire place was empty but for us.

"Crawford, where are we?" I heard Schuldich say, his voice a little hoarse.

"Just shut up and lean on me," he received coldly in reply, "you're going to reopen that wound."

I chanced a look up to where the redhead was leaning with his arm over Crawford's own. He looked pale yet still a hell of a lot better than before. His eyes looked a little wary and almost disorientated. Farferello was at their side, his look its usual eerie calm.

"This place," he began, "it seems familiar to me. Have I been here before?"

"Farferello be quiet and help me," Crawford addressed him in exactly the same manner as the German.

The Irishman complied without complaint, moving to the older mans side and taking Schuldich's other arm. Crawford, seeming to believe he had served out his allotted "team help time" or whatever fucking schedule he had worked out for that, let go of the redhead and walked little ahead. Memories of earlier that night flashed into my head., of Crawford's humoured and cold voice talking of his team mates as of mere pawns...

"I have to say, this might be an interesting experience; I've never been "backup" for a subordinate before."

Crawford gave me the chills there was no two ways about it. I mean what sort of leader didn't support his own team? Yet there were moments, little moments where it seemed that he cared for their well being. Whether this was solely because of how it would affect himself if they were harmed was impossible to tell, yet it did seem to happen. It was an odd thing to witness sometimes, a team that at times seemed to work solely as individual units, then just as quickly they would be complimenting each others powers and saving each others lives. Ridiculously convoluted.

"Omi," I said dangerously, listening to the sound of footsteps receding as the Schwartz moved off, "where-are-we?"

We seemed to have momentarily become unimportant enough to not merit a guard. Nagi was watching over the two strangers, the small one and the blonde one, and the others were too preoccupied with making their way to the stairs. Weiss seemed to have instinctually formed a group again and hung back beside Seven, Yoji's car. I leaned against it as I waited for his reply, my eyes still hard as they focused on the retreating figures as I crossed my arms more tightly and fumed. And the strange thing was, that I couldn't even tell you where it had come from, this unfounded rage. I mean sure I was angry at being uprooted from my home, no matter how temporary it had been, angry about teaming up with Schwartz, about strangers tagging along with us, about Ran…but still, as strangely unrelated as it felt to all of these things, it still seemed justified. Strange, no? Yet it was enough for me, "me" who's the one all for justice, the one for believing in myself, no one else, no matter my trusting nature! I must have my reasons, right!? Kuso, now I'm referring to myself in the third person, I'm screwed.

"We're at the old Shinihara Industrial Specialists warehouse complex," Omi finally replied, his blue eyes shining as he began to lead us off after the others, "It was abandoned about ten years ago when the company folded, and was then taken over by Esset for training purposes."

"By Esset!?" I couldn't help but be instantly on guard, "then what the hell are we doing here? Shit, there could be sensors, booby traps, hell there could be people here Omi!"

"Calm the hell down hot head," Yoji sighed, striding up on my right hand side and placing a hand on my shoulder which only annoyed me further, "Omi would never intentionally put us in danger, you know that as well as I do. But, I confess, I still don't get it either. Why are we here Omi?"

Blue eyed silence. A silent smirk from up ahead, I felt it through the hairs on the back of my neck. Crawford, that bastard.

"We are here, Balinese, because this is the safest place to be other than fort knocks when being hunted by Esset," Crawford's voice was still held that cold sneering tone, "well, it could perhaps be safer in fact."

"Oh, I feel so reassured," I muttered angrily, keeping my eyes on the heels of the people in front so that I didn't notice our passing reflections in the pillars and agitate my head further, "and why is this then Mr. Genius?"

"Well, the fact that we are now perfectly shielded from all satellite, ground radar, heat seeking, telepathic, pre-cognitive and clairvoyantabilities," he finally turned to give me a glance with sharp eyes, "that might just give us a bit of a head start on the enemy. But don't worry, this place is quite empty. It was deserted years ago, new base set up three blocks from here."

"Three streets away? Then they'll find us!" I raged, finally lifting my head, unable to contain my anger and shock at this.

"I think not, like I told you we are perfectly shielded," Crawford continued, his heels clicking on the concrete ground methodically, like a metronome.

"And how can you be so sure there isn't a crack in this so called "shielding" huh?" I spat back, "You said it's been deserted for years."

"Yes it has, but then I have a better meter for measuring this buildings armour dimensions and capability than even time itself," he stopped and turned fully to look at me, his glasses glinting in the light; everyone else had stopped to watch us, facing each other off from opposite sides of the little party, "I can no longer see the future out with these walls Mr. Hidaka, and that means that there isn't even a hair line crack in it."

"Heh, so that's supposed to benefit us is it? Removing one of our most major assets by cutting off your precognition? And that's Hidaka-san to you asshole."

"Not quite," he said turning his back on me once more to continue forwards, ignoring my insult most annoyingly, "I can still tell if anything is going to happen to one of us, or within this building. However we have now effectively been removed from the time line of the world outside. We will not figure in their premonitions now, they'll be riddled with static and holes."

We continued in silence for a moment, myself having been sufficiently silenced by lack of a good comeback. The uniform footsteps seemed syncopated by the ragged footsteps of Schuldich. The exit sign loomed over head, reflecting off of the floor and pooling over us like a red haze, like blood. God, was that all anything reminded me of anymore?

Blood?

Destruction?

Was that what it had been reduced to? Everything withered and dead before I even touched it?

Everything had contracted, time and space slipping together to leave me wandering in a limbo where all those moments in time when things had gone wrong, all those moments when thick red had covered my hands, when shredded flesh was snagged in my claws…that's what I saw when I looked into myself. Destroyer, killer…murderer. I felt numb, angry and numb all at once. Horrible, this feeling; pure isolation.

Metal stairs under my feet, clanking of heels and boots on the rivets, swinging of a door and mutters of pain and speculation. I was too far deep in my own mind to even argue with Crawford anymore, and that was a big step believe you me. I felt cold all of a sudden, alone. There was an, emptiness inside of me. I shuddered…

…wait, wait, where had this come from? So sudden these feelings, creeping over me, overthrowing my mind…and I had been…accepting it, so easily, as if I had always felt this way and it was natural. One minute I had felt angry, annoyed, as much like myself as I had in a long time and then, wham! I was suddenly like someone else. Just like on the car journey over here, when I had felt alone, sad and then I had fallen asleep and dreamt of…Ran.

Ran.

Well hell, there was no doubt about there being a connection there. Well I had felt so alone ever since Ran had…abandoned us, betrayed us. No wonder I was dreaming of him after falling asleep with loneliness invading my thoughts. I wanted to feel whole and the only thing that did that to me…was him. Him who I had lost, forever. Even if I got him back, somehow found him I could…never forgive…that. Never.

We were his family. How could he even think of…no, I thought I said don't think about it right? Right.

The heels in front of me stopped moving suddenly and I jerked to a halt; surprised out of my thoughts I looked up and around me. No more pillars, no more reflections; we had abandoned the basement car park for some sort of low level corridor. Instead of polished granite there were light grey walls and steel pipes, unused key card access doorways, flickering lights and broken ones. Crawford seemed to be fiddling with a key card access panel beside what could only be an elevator. The light above us was flickering, pissing me off and making me scowl. The strangers, decidedly lacking in my attention recently, were huddled together beside Nagi near a long dead retina identification panel. Well, not precisely huddled; it was more like the smaller one was strapped to the blonde ones arm and the blonde one was pulling off an impressive scowl that rivalled my own. I ignored them, turning my back on the gathered crowd, time for that later, no need to rush right?

Ha ha, funny Ken, funny. You're a real comedian.

There was a distinct clicking noise from behind me. I turned, thinking that perhaps Crawford had managed to do whatever the hell he was doing to the elevator panel and get us the hell away from this flickering light before I decapitated someone, only to receive a face full of smoke. Schuldich had his eyes closed, his head leaning back against the wall on which he reclining, clicking his lighter closed with a hideously annoying satisfaction; a lit cigarette hung loosely from his fingers. I felt my blood begin to boil.

"Mind where you're blowing that," my voice was dangerous and low, each syllable bitten off especially, my eyes stinging from the smoke as I refused to cough.

"Mind where you're standing," came the smooth reply as he lifted the cigarette once more and took a long inhale.

"Damn you, why don't you just have some fucking consideration huh?!"

"Consida-what?" Schuldich raised a patronisingly ignorant eyebrow and cracked open an eye to watch me, his mouth twisting into a smirk as he exhaled.

"Ken please," Omi said, his arm on my arm, his face strained.

"Oh so you think this is funny huh?" I continued, ignoring Omi's plea, "Well it won't be so funny when I stub that cigarette out in your eye!"

"Children, children please!" Yoji said with an arrogant yet concerned air, stepping in between us and pushing me backwards a little out of the ready stance I had adopted, "Calm down Kenken, you're rising to the bait here."

"Yeah well I don't give a damn, let me kill him, come on!" I began to rant stepping forwards again and forcing a surprised Yoji to take hold of my arms to stop me; Nagi, the strangers and Farferello were now watching us while Crawford remained focused on his machine.

"Shit Ken, will you give-it-a-rest!" Yoji struggled, finally pushing me back up against the opposite wall and staring at me like I was losing my mind, "What the hell's the matter with you!?"

I was losing my mind.

It left in a flash; the anger, the confusion, the rage…gone.

Where the flying fuck had that all come from!? I was going to do it…

…really kill him, I would have done it. Oh god, oh god…what's happening to me?

"Sorry Yoji," the words came out as nothing but a whisper, I felt my expression change to one of confusion and worry.

"That's…okay," he said warily, letting go of me with reluctance, stepping back to survey me with confusion and annoyance, "just, no killing, alright crazy boy? It's alright."

"Right," I said weakly, hardly noticing as we were bundled into the elevator.

Plush surroundings, cream walls and red carpet, paintings hanging on either wall. Huge elevator, could have fit twenty people in here no problem. Sliding doors on both sides, super shiny, could see myself perfectly. This whole place was an anomaly in it itself; it had been uninhabited for years yet still looked brand new. Those mirror like doors were especially well preserved…really like mirrors…

-…Mirrors...hmm, just deja-vu or something, focus Ken.-

Haggard, confused expression, eyes a little glazed, shaking slightly; headache. What a picture you make Ken Hidaka, a real cover model; well perhaps for "Mentally Insane Weekly", but other than that…

"It is a good plan Crawford," Omi said suddenly, his arms crossed and his eyes focused on one of the elaborate expressionist paintings, "but there is a major flaw. Won't they be able to figure out where we are rather quickly because of this, as you say, removal of ourselves from their timelines? There must be a limited number of places in Tokyo where that is possible ne? And as members of Esset they will have the same knowledge as you, they will know of everywhere in the city where this effect is possible. I also have a suspicion that they still have enough organised members to storm each one simultaneously giving us no room for using their search time. We also don't have any contact to the outside world anymore and so can't use telepathy to monitor their progress."

Silence. I was too busy holding myself upright at the moment however and was in no mood to talk tactics. It's not my strong point anyway, let Omi deal with it, he knows what he's doing. Still, he did have a point. As safe as Crawford had made this place sound it was suddenly seeming to have one major flaw that dwarfed all of its assets. It wouldn't take long for them to find out where we were, and then they would come for us full force. If Crawford was right and they did want to just eliminate us all, no taking prisoners, then they probably wouldn't have any qualms in sending their whole fucking army to kill us. They knew our weaknesses, our strengths, everything about us. We would be at their mercy if that happened, completely and utterly. Well, there wasn't much you could say to that was there? Of course not, but then Crawford was always a smartass of the first degree with his smartass answers…

"Thank you Bombay but I already had foreseen this eventuality," he said smoothly, his arms crossed and eyes fixed on his own reflection just as I had been doing, "that is why we won't be staying here long. I said it was the safest place to be at the moment, not that they wouldn't come looking for us here. Yet it is the only place we could have come where we can remain undetected for at least a couple of hours at the most, enough time to regroup our thoughts and our strategies; and finally set all things straight."

With those last words his eyes slipped purposefully to the reflection of the strangers. I felt a chill up my spine at the look. He did have a point however; the explanation they had given us back at the safe house, as little as I had caught of it, had been forced into a rough sketch by lack of time as we had fled. We still didn't really know who they were, what they were doing tagging along with us in the first place and even what their rough sketch had really meant. It had all seemed highly over the top and hard to understand, but then that may well have just been this dam headache…but then, had I even had this evil headache then? Damn it hurt like nothing else, not even when I cracked my head off that banister had it hurt this much. It felt like my brain was swelling from the inside and pushing against my skull, trapped with nowhere to go.

Ahhh…kuso.

The doors opened with a ping, most irritating when your brain feels like sliding out your ears and crawling into the tenth dimension. The sound of shuffling feet and the bumping of arms didn't help this any. I stumbled forwards, heading for the door, but then, suddenly…

"Wait, this is…Crawford!" and as Nagi spoke worriedly, so my mind spiralled away, making me incomparably dizzy for a moment, down into…

…fear. I was overcome, oh god, fear...thathorror!

Fear. It was pulsing through my mind, the pain gone in its insignificance compared to that, to that…

…terror, pain, scared to death, trying to take, they were trying to take…held down, they were holding me down! I had to get out of here! Anything but this, anything, please.Shit, oh shit…help me! Someone!

I opened my eyes and found myself in the lift again, not in that memory, not in that laboratory…laboratory?

What the hell?

What had I seen? I had never been there, in that memory; I had never been to such a place in my life, even on a mission…yet it had seemed so real, right there in my head, that overwhelming fear, overriding everything!

Then I realised something else. I was being pushed to the floor by Schuldich as he made a mad dash for the elevator panel. Crawford seemed to have foreseen this however and grabbed the back of his ripped jacket, holding him back and then using his superior strength to pull him back and get a drip on his shoulders. It was then that I noticed, absently, that his jacket was still heavily soaked in blood. Everyone stared in complete confusion. I even managed to ignore my headache in favour of bewilderment as I watched the two men struggle. Schuldich, he looked…panicked. Scratch that he looked more…

…Terrified. Really terrified.

Was that possible? I'd never seen that expression on any Schwarz before…he was always so cocksure, arrogant, cruel, not ever panicked and not in a million years ever terrified. Yet, how could I deny the living proof twisting and thrashing right before my eyes?

"God damn it Nagi help me!" Brad roared as he grappled with Schuldich's legs as the scrabbling man as he continued to strain for the elevator panel and the floor buttons, "I forgot!"

Forgot? Forgot what? What the hell was his problem!? Things were spiralling out of control at a vastly accelerated rate, I felt like just staying on the ground and never getting up; my insides had been turned in on themselves by that gut clenching fear. It was like, it was like it had come from absolutely nowhere, with no explanation. Yet as much of a mystery as it was I found it hard to concentrate on it my head was beginning to throb again now that the shock of it had worn off.

"Ken, Ken get up!" Omi was hissing at me, "We need to go."

I remained transfixed even as the others began to move off in a confused yet considerate stupor. The muttering of an unfamiliar voice reached my ears, my eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Come on," Yoji urged, "I don't think he meant for us to see that…"

See that? What did he mean? Had that been…wait, had that been Schuldich's memories in my head? That fear, it looked oddly like, like that something deep in his panicked eyes. That deep, suffocating pain that I could see as he strained to reach the buttons but was once more restrained. I guess he could have projected it right, if the feeling was that strong? Nagi looked just as confused as the rest of us, having a bit of trouble helping with the German himself. There was a more concerned air about him however, a feeling that he wasn't really supposed to be watching this…or that he felt that he wasn't entitled to, wasn't wanted. I was knocked from my thoughts as Crawford managed to finally pin him effectively enough, grunting with effort and panting a little; he looked up suddenly as if forgetting we were here as well, the sweat dulling his hair and making his forehead glisten, and barked out with a glare;

"What the fuck are you looking at? Get the hell out of here!"

No need to ask me twice. Omi grabbed me and pulled me along when I stumbled and even Nagi seemed to think it would be better if he left as well. Left Crawford and a snarling struggling Schuldich alone in the plush elevator and leave us outside in the…

…laboratory? It took me a moment to notice just which highly polished floor I was standing, within who's clinically white walls. There was a light buzzing at the distant end of the long wide laboratory and the metal beds looked hard and cold. I looked around me, at our new surroundings…this laboratory, was it what I thought it was? Form that memory, the one I had seen, the one that had caused so much fear only moments before…yes, yes this was it. Well then that kind of explained things. I saw that everyone else was looking around too, probably coming to the same conclusion as me. Well, what the fucking hell was going on here then eh? I wondered if everyone else's conclusions were as unsatisfactory as my own was.

With a sort of delayed reaction I turned to ask a question but Crawford was already, with great difficulty, closing the doors via the button on the panel. He then jumped up, his exhausted form of moments before seeming to vanish and melt into the usual controlled figure of Brad Crawford. The last thing I saw of them before the doors closed was Schuldich springing up, his face a mask of now well hidden terror, and receiving a heavy blow to the face for his efforts. Crawford sighed as his team mate barrelled backwards and out of sight past the closing doors.

Snap shut.

AN: Hmm, another secret eh? As if I don't have enough already, sigh! Hot damn but if Brad isn't just the biggest asshole, heh heh, I'm sure he could be worse (cough cough)…please R&R, feedback very welcome!