Wednesday 1.29 - Damage

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji thought that this whole ‘assassin’ thing had pretty much put him through the wringer. He thought he’d seen everything, done everything, he really couldn’t fall any lower, could he? Well, it could get worse. One of them had yet to die. And really, that was just a ticking time bomb; he was going to have to deal with it sooner or later.

Although maybe not, he’d always rather counted on being the one who went down first. It seemed fucking likely. And his odds just kept increasing.

Anyway, baring their untimely deaths, Yohji thought he was already as broken as he was going to get.

It never occurred to him that he might get tortured.

Although why not, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t hitting him as too big of a shock. He just lacked foresight.

Shit, do you ever.

He wasn’t sure if he was glad for the force-fed pain killers, or if he should curse them. They’d dulled it a little. Not nearly enough, he hurt like a motherfucker, but they muffled the searing jolts caused by Crawford’s prodding just enough to keep him conscious. Yohji was pretty sure that without them he would have blacked out. Or had a heart attack from stress. He suspected that he might have preferred the heightened sensation were the tradeoff that kind of escape. He wanted nothing more in the world just now than to be able to simply turn his mind off.

He hadn’t responded to Crawford’s questions. Not for strength of willpower or anything, he just had no answers. And it was rather obvious which questions the man actually deemed important, and which ones where just part of the torture routine.

Knowing their intent hardly decreased efficiency though.

"So, does Bombay always keep you so thoroughly in the dark?” he’d demanded, “I am not sure I would want to work with a team I didn't trust."

Better than a team with someone like you on it.

…

Omi didn’t know what was on the disk EITHER right? No, he didn’t. He would have told us. We trust one another.

…right?

Crawford kept talking, seemingly indifferent to whether he generated actual information, or only pain. “Would they die for you, Kudoh?"

The question burned. He didn’t know the answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

I would die for them. So I guess it all works out. Because I think I’m about to.

With that the cruel man abruptly took his leave and for a moment Yohji was alone, before the young one reappeared.

I think I actually prefer the psychopaths.

Not to get himself wrong, they ALL fucking terrified him. It was just that he decided that he hated Crawford the most.

Nagi was quietly hovering. The kid so far did not seem that bad, probably a trick. None the less, he couldn’t help being reminded of a carrion bird on a death watch.

The companionship was hardly reassuring.

Even watching Asuka die…lying in a pool of blood…a deserted alleyway…counting the seconds before life slipped away from him too….he had felt less alone then.

Maybe when the telepath came back he’d bring his gun.

Comments

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

(OOC: Hell this is depressing. It is SUCH a good thing I'm not playing any of the other Schwarz chara's. I honestly couldn't have pulled that off)

Kudou looked... Not good. Not good at all. Actually, he looked rather bad. Nagi had to wonder what Crawford had done to get him in that state. While he supposed it was better than if the man had vented more of his anger at his teammates it... It made Nagi want to apologize. He didn't get that, either. Kudou was nothing more than an annoying necessarity. Something to keep Schuldig and partially Farfello amused. Someone they needed to keep alive through all of his own fuck ups because he was important for the future. Still, when it came down to it, Nagi didn't want him to hurt too much.

Crawford must've had his reasons for doing what he did though.

Crawford was always right.

Nagi sighed, took a seat in the chair in the far corner of the room and opened his laptop, resolved to get at least some work done, and watch Kudou at the same time.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

He was getting dizzy again and his limbs were going numb. For a while he let himself just sink into his own head; not a pretty place on a normal day, now positively dismal.

He thought of Ran. It was safe for the moment, Yohji didn't think that Prodigy could violate his thoughts like his spiteful teammate.

He thought of how very, very badly he wanted to see him. Except, he also didn't want to see him. Not here. Torture would be so very much worse for the redhead. There was so much more that could be used as leverage against him. It wouldn't be pretty.

He thought about how very much time he had taken their proximity for granted. Still would have been doing so, actually, had Ken not practically nailed him over the head with his own feelings.

Might have been better if he hadn't, though. For everyone.

He sure had a talent for accumulating regrets, didn't he?

How long did it take for poor circulation to cause permanent damage, anyway? Schuldig sure pulled those knots fucking tight.

Think of Asuka. In his current situation, he found old ghosts more comforting than living people. Especially when those living people were almost certainly putting themselves in danger this very moment. Because of you.

...Or maybe they aren't bothering.

Fuck, now Crawford's voice had slimmed it's way into his head. He was in Hell.

He stared at the bedpost, trying to will his mind quiet.

Eventually he glanced over at Prodigy's corner.

He actually helped you. Things can't possibly (no, that's not true,) get any worse. Maybe he'll actually HEAR what you say.

It was worth a shot.

"They really are wasting their time," he finally mumbled. Nagi could listen or choose not to. It was hard to care too much.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig leaned against the door frame, eyeing the blond now laying on his bed, the ice pack pressed to his swollen eye. His gaze then turned to Nagi with a frown.

"You put him on my bed." He scowled, then moved over beside the bed, staring down at the Weiss kitten, his fingers stroking over the angry red wounds.

"They probably are." He said, tilting his head. "I mean, either the red head is going to die trying to find you, or you'll be shot for giving up mission details." He grinned. "Though regardless, you'll probably be shot."

He moved to sit on top of Yohji, straddling his stomach and leaning in close. "The question is, will we shoot you for the fun of it, or will they shoot you for being a traitor? Because either way, we'll get the information we want." He tilted his head, smirking. "Which would you prefer?"

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

The extra weight was excruciating. But then, Yohji was sure that it was meant to be.

Schuldig's words hit him with a queasy lurch of emotion.

The hint that Ran might die had it's intended effect of pure dread. However there was also an underlying current of relief. At least they don't intend for him to end up like me....

The implication that he was going to be shot was more disturbing than it ought have been. Considering that about 5 minutes ago he was wishing for it. Apparently the instinct to want to live runs very deep. Hard to overwrite.

For a moment the telepath's suggestion that he might be shot by his own team caused a heady spike of despair and near panic, before rationality settled back in.

That was ridiculous.

Right?

Definitely. Inconceivable.

He tried to block out the tiny seed of doubt that had just been planted. Schuldig was just extrapolating from the way his own team operated. Yeah, that was definitely it.

"If Weiß killed it's members for screwing up, I wouldn't be here right now," he tried to keep his voice more certain than he actually felt. "We're not like you."

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

"If Weiß killed it's members for screwing up, I wouldn't be here right now,"

"We're not like you."

Schuldig snorted. "Ja, that much is painfully obvious." He said, shifting to get more comfortable. "We're a team. You're a rag-tag band of misfits who kill for someone else's ideology. You lack the drive to be a threat. At the most you're an entertaining distraction.

He shook his head, getting off track.

"Tell me about your mission." He said, mental fingers already burrowing into Yohji's mind, ready to destroy him from the inside out if need be. "Tell me, or I'll get the information my way. We'll see how long you last if your brain forgets to keep breathing. How long can you stay awake?"

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji eyed the angry looking knot that had materialized around his tormentor's eye since the last time he'd seen him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I can see the evidence of some great 'teamwork,' huh."

So the noises he'd heard had been Crawford. Not that he was surprised.

Some microscopically ironic piece of his subconscious almost wanted to feel sorry for the creep, but the actual emotion failed to materialize. Strangely though, he was also devoid of the glee that logically he felt that he should be relishing at seeing his enemy get at least a little of his just deserts. He deserved some degree of retribution, didn't he? It wasn't there either though. His soul was a flat expanse of apathy.

I don't kill for someone else's ideology, his conscience objected, I kill because there are monsters out there, and I'd rather see the monsters get hurt, than innocent women like Asuka.

...

....maybe that's how it was in the beginning.

His own cynicism bothered him more than Schuldig's obvious needling.

He frowned and resolved to stay silent. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to stop being awake, anyway.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I can see the evidence of some great 'teamwork,' huh."

Schuldig just smirked, digging a finger into Yohji's wound, just barely keeping from splitting the wound opened again. "You have no room to talk. I won't die from a black eye." He frowned.

"We're killers. We have no delusions about what we do. We work for the highest bidder, and we get paid well. You..." He snorted. "You work for next to nothing for some big secret organization who won't even tell you their agenda, and you don't have the brains in you to break free of it. The people you kill aren't monsters. They're just people who made a choice. How are you any better than them?" He snorted. "You kill for money." He cocked his head, then send a spike of pain through Yohji's skull, strong enough to blast through the painkillers.

"Now stop changing the subject. Your mission. Tell me. Unless you just want to make my day better. Hell, if I turn you into a vegetable, maybe Ran will actually pay attention to you." He smirked again. "Want to find out?"

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

I don't kill for money. I didn't. I just wanted to destroy the people who killed Asuka. The money was inconsequential.

I got to.

...

After that....

....I just didn't know what else to do with my life.

....

Guess you can get used to anything.

His injured chest was becoming so aggravated that he could barely tell any more when it was being prodded and when it was being left alone, it was just a continuously throbbing center of pain. He'd just had time to be completely dismayed for having the escaped thought I'm surprised they aren't being more creative with their methods, the chest wound is an awfully obvious target, when Schuldig failed to disappoint.

For a moment Yohji thought he'd been struck by lightening.

The pain cleaved through him, like energy being drawn to his spinal cord, where it was lead in channels to radiate through every nerve in his body. There was a disturbing choked noise that he detachedly figured must have come from him, but sounded too foreign for him to relate to.

He was pretty much ready to completely check out mentally, when Schuldig's words cut through the haze of pain almost as clearly as the headache. "Hell, if I turn you into a vegetable, maybe Ran will actually pay attention to you."

He hated the way he almost agreed with that.

It's not like he hadn't had that kind of thought before. He'd been so very childishly jealous of Aya-chan that he probably deserved it.

His mind strayed to the empty chair he'd woken up to this morn--whenever it was he'd finally woken up.

Being a vegetable wouldn't change anything.

He stared blankly at the smirking man oppressively towering over him. Why the fuck did Schwarz care so much about that stupid mission anyway? It hadn't seemed any more important than any other mission he'd been on. It seemed like a rather inconsequential one, actually, considering the lack of people needing rescue. There were no kidnapped kids, no gruesome lab experiments. He didn't know why they had had to do it, and he didn't think he even had any information for them to gleam.

This was all one stupidly painful waste of time.

He couldn't even coherently remember the whole goddamned mission, anyway. Many of the details had faded out, overwritten by his fuck-ups, a few traumatic seconds....

He remembered that stupid cell phone.

Had that victim (the first one? second?) even been one of the targets? He must have been. But all Yohji could remember was freezing up. The moment of locked eye contact. He couldn't make the kill.

Then he snapped, and overkill.

There'd been so much fucking blood.

He was used to it, there was usually that much blood. People have a lot of it to spill when they die.

His head lay in the center of it, like a decapitated doll.

Yohji'd felt sick.

The cell phone. Still on. Who'd been on the other end? His wife? Child?

He wondered how long it had taken for the police to knock on their door.

They probably hadn't known he was a bad guy.

Had HE even known that he was?

Hm, choices.

That fucking cell phone.

There were complications about the kill, but Yohji couldn't remember. It was all eclipsed by blood and dial tone.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig chuckled, enjoying how his words twisted Yohji's thoughts. He sifted through the delicious pain and memories, looking for the motive for their mission. Why did they need the disk? Anything they had been told about the mission. He wanted to know it all.

"You look good in red." He smirked.

"You know, Kudou. If you play nice, I can make life easier for you." He cooed, stroking a gentle finger down Yohji's cheek. "I can make you forget all of the pain. Forget that Ran will never want you the way you want him. Hell, I could get you out of Weiss if you wanted. Set you up in different city with a different name. I could rewrite your life if you wanted. No Asuka, no Kritiker, no Weiss. Nagi could have the paperwork done in a matter of minutes."

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

It seemed for a moment that Schuldig had made good on his threat to stop Yohji’s breathing, before he realized that he’d stopped on his own. He choked.

“No Asuka, no Kritiker, no Weiss.”

Schuldig couldn’t really do that, could he?

Yeah, probably.

Forget Asuka?

It isn’t possible to forget Asuka. She runs too deep.

He loved her too much. She was perfect. Well, for him. He’d been perfectly happy. He loved her hair, thought it was cool that she wore it shorter than his. She shared his disregard for conventionality. She was funny. And smart. Always caught the things he overlooked on cases. He liked to make fun of the way she dressed, but really he liked it. She knew that. She was so fucking perfect.

It had taken him forever to get her into bed. Followed by lots of stupid jokes about professionalism. How old had he been then, anyway? Omi’s age? Maybe a year older. He’d thought he was so fucking grown-up. He’d been a kid. A stupid one. God he’d been such a stupid idealistic fucking kid.

All of that bullshit he’d composed about finding his soul mate. Guess that’s the one thing Asuka didn’t get. Or maybe she was waiting for someone better.

It didn’t matter. He’d wait. She’d figure it out in time.

There hadn’t been time.

The bullet that took Asuka down caused more damage than the one that hit him. The wound was far more encompassing than the physical damage. When he woke up he was empty. The void cut right through his soul. There must have been at least something to his soul mate bullshit, because with Asuka gone he only had half of a soul left. If that.

We wished she’d lived instead. He wondered if she’d have ended up in Weiß instead, had fate been less cruel. Probably not. She would have gotten over him. He was glad.

He hadn’t even had to think about it when Kritiker asked him to sign up. He didn’t care. He didn’t have a soul to sell. He was already dead.

The killing didn’t bother him so much. It kept him busy. He found that being busy was the only thing that really helped cover up the throb of hollowness. Girls and booze where good ways of staying busy too. It always felt like cheating though, it didn’t matter that Asuka was dead. He fixed the guilt with more booze.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

He’d been drinking particularly heavily that week that Ran showed up. Probably why he’d thought it would be so fucking hilarious to plant him in his own bed and saddle him with his sister’s name. Not that he’d known at the time whose name it was. Just that it was important. Back then important things always seemed funny.

Eventually he found that arguing with ‘Aya’ was another good way of staying busy. Good enough that it slowly started to replace some of the drinking. He didn’t entirely notice that though. He didn’t want to.

He’d promised himself he’d never fall for another fucking coworker.

When he realized that he was thinking about Aya more than Asuka, it scared the shit out of him. Asuka had become his identity. Not to mention confused the *hell* out of his /sexual/ identity. It was already confused though. Excessive alcohol had paved the way for a fair share of experimentation. Aya was just the first man Yohji had ever wanted to touch while sober.

And he realized that he wanted more than just to touch him.

But Schuldig was right, Ay—Ran didn’t want him like that. He probably didn’t want him any other way either, had just been trying to smooth things over for the team. It might make things better for everyone if Yohji just forgot and went away.

He didn’t have a lot to offer the man.

Ran had too many problems of his own. Yohji could only detract from his happiness with Aya-chan….

The stupid mission.

Yohji remembered the dull crack of a computer as it glanced off of Ran’s shoulder. Followed by a look of absolute horror. The horror had nothing to do with his own injury, Ran as looking at him. Was looking at the steel claws protruding from his chest.

Ran carried him out with a dislocated shoulder….

He’d wanted to stop him, wanted to be left behind. As if Ran would listen.

Yeah, like he could forget about Ran.

He was too fucking selfish.

Anyway, he didn’t have enough substance left to start over as a new person. His memories were the only good thing left in him. Without them all that there was left was sin and bloodstains. He didn’t think they could be erased as easily as the memories.

He deserved the pain.

He sighed.

“No deal.”

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig didn't seem to hear Yohji turning down his offer. Instead, his face was hovering less that an inch from Yohji's. His eyes were hooded, and his lips were parted, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. And to top it off, he was hard.

In short, he looked like he was high on ecstacy. But in this case, his drug was Yohji's emotional pain.

It was like fucking ambrosia.

His hands stroked through Yohji's hair, gripping tightly at the roots. He smiled lazily and licked his lips.

"I want to live in there." He chuckled softly, his fingertip pressing against Yohji's scalp. "It's delicious."

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Nagi in the corner stared wordlessly at the two on the bed. His eyes were wide and his mouth open in a silent sound of shock.
Kodou looked... So pained. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Schuldig tear through people's mind. Oh no... He was still being careful even, or Yohji's mind pas particularly resilient. Nagi had seen people's minds explode under Schuldig's assault.
Those people didn't matter. Weren't really anyone. Not in Nagi's mind. They were people they needed. Faceless people. People that would die because the mission plan said they would die.

Crawford was always right.

The pain in Yohji's face, in his stance - the tension in his body would be aggravating the wound, a voice in the back of his mind told him. He ignored it - it got to him. Not as much as it would if it'd been one of his teammates, if it'd been Tot, but...

Why?

Why did Kudou get to him so much? Kudou did have a face...

Nagi didn't move though, didn't even extend his talent.

Schuldig was doing as Crawford Ordered.

Crawford was always right.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig laughed softly. Poor little Siberian had a thing for Balinese? Unrequited love could be a bitch. Not that he would really know. He didn't love anyone. Love was a weakness. He definately liked people though. Certain American people. Despite certain American people giving him a black eye.

He shook his head, saving that tidbit for later and going back to follow the thoughts about Sato. He wanted to know more about this seemingly important fellow, and if any of the kittens might be able to pin him down, it would be Kudou.

Poor guy. He had to have a hell of a headache by now. Schuldig just shrugged to himself and grinned.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji tried to cling to the image of Ran, Ran standing there, in bloodied mission gear, looking at him....

It was like grasping at ball bearings dropped on a slick floor.

Why did the thought of Sato keep sliding back to him?

He didn't want to think about Sato. He hated him. No, not really. The man made a good scape goat. So many of Yohji's problems seemed to hinge on the day he'd shown up. If only the man hadn't chosen to make his introduction via breaking and entering. Things might have been different. Might still trust each other.

The look on Omi's face when he'd offered the man tea.

Betrayal. He'd never seen the boy regard him with hurt before. He'd hurt Omi.

You hurt lots of people.

Never Omi before though. Not for real. You draw the line at provoking him. Being irritating. He can take it. You never broke his trust.

Why'd you do that?

Stupid whim.

In that moment he'd damaged something.

Ran had been pissed too.

But Ran's always pissed at you. Hardly groundbreaking. Should barely hit the radar.

If only Sato had behaved more like Manx. Manx had explained things. Made Yohji a real good sales pitch that first day. Or maybe he'd just been enchanted by her flawless legs. His trust was a little too easily won by beautiful women.

Still, Manx delivered orders with a satisfactory explanation. Usually. He hoped those legs of hers were still walking around somewhere. He wasn't sure they were.

He needed more information. Needed to know that he was actually killing monsters. Needed a proper sense of injustice. Sato hadn't given him that. What did he care about some company performing experiments on people? He didn't know what kind. The company that made his cologne did experiments too. Big freaking deal.

Sato hadn't even given them a video tape. Just a fucking email. What kind of protocol was that?

Omi had looked so lost when he'd stood in front of the blank monitor to read it. Like an uncrossable chasm had opened up between him and the rest of the team.

Fucking Sato.

They shouldn't have accepted that goddamned mission.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

"Poor Yohji. You're sense of good and bad is all gone to hell without a pretty lady to tell you what to do." Schuldig chuckled and stood up, yanking his mental fingers from the twists and turns of Yohji's mind, not caring if he hurt the man.

He sighed and stood up. Knowing he couldn't inflict anything permanent on the man was making him lose his charm. His mind was so sweet, so delicious when it was full of pain... it almost made him crazy. He didn't want to get lost in that, and he didn't want to do something he might regret later.

Not that he ever regretted anything he did. But he didn't want to get punched again. He regretted getting punched. Not the actions that led up to it, though.

/Nagi, see what you can dig up in Kritiker's files about a man by the name of Sato./

Schuldig moved behind Nagi's chair, leaning over the back and draping himself over the young boy's shoulders. "Or look up some porn. Either way."

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Nagi jumped at the sudden words and than even more at the sudden touch. Silently he berated himself for that. He'd stopped being startled by Schuldig's habit of touching everything and everyone years ago.

/Some of us don't need that to get off,/ he send back testily. Even before he said it he knew it was low. Schuldig had just been beaten up by his biggest interest, had than gotten a task that seemed to arouse him something fierce and nothing to do about it. But... Ah well, no sense of worrying about it now.

Without much ado, he opened another set of files and started his search.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig chuckled, pleased that he still had the ability to startle the unshakable little telekinetic. Startling a telekinetic of Nagi's ability might not be the brightest idea, but Schuldig liked to walk on the wild side. And if it came down to it, he could call it reaction training to get away with it.

/Some of us don't need that to get off/

It was meant to be a low blow, but Schuldig just grinned. After all, he was the king of playing dirty. Though he did feel a sort of fatherly pride at Nagi trying to play with the big dogs like that.

/Since when have you gotten off, Naggles?/ He smirked, resting his chin on top of the boys head, watching him play with his computer.

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

/Yesterday, actually./ Now that he'd started it, he had to follow up. See what comes of it? Nagi thought to himself. You know what comes of trying to be smart with the guy!
/Want to hear the details too?/
Why was his mind supplying all the wrong answers? And more importantly, why was it sending those answers to Schuldig? Stupid, stupid!

He rested his hands on the sides of his laptop and used his telepathy to type. While he was incredibly fast typing by hand, his abillities made him faster still, and he needed that if he was going to do this right.

It was also not a good idea to have Schuldig hanging over his shoulders and distracting him.

But than, try telling that to the telepath.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig snorted and grinned. /I wasn't talking about your fist, Naggles. But sure. Give me details. I like knowing what people think of me. Or maybe you prefer the littlest Weiss kitten? You're in the same grade, right?/

He sent an image of Nagi and Omi sitting in some cutsy little tea house filled with kitten and doilies. Everything was painted pink, and they were both making the more adorably hideous googly eyes at each other while they played footsie under the table.

Schuldig made a gagging sound in his head.

/Gross. You get off on that? Give me porn, any day./

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Immediately, Nagi turned a vicious glare to Schuldig. "Fuck off Schu. Anyway, that was a rhetorical question!"
/I can't help it if you're pathetic enough of a telepath that you can't just pluck it out of my mind, you know!/

Under the barrage of Schuldig's taunts, Yohji was forgotten. What the hell would Nagi want with Tsukijono? Like hell would he get together with the enemy like that! Was Schuldig out of his mind?

Though the image did have his own appeal; Not Tsukijono of course. And definitely not that awful place - how had Schuldig even come up with something like that? - but... Something.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig scowled, shoving Nagi a bit roughly before going to sit back down on his bed, ignoring Yohji's presence there. /Just do what I told you too, brat./

He sniffed and flicked a bit of invisible lint from his shirt. Pathetic indeed. /I could know if I wanted. But your sad excuse for a love life isn't worth my time or energy that it would take extracting it from your head./

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Schuldig had managed to trigger such an effective spiral of remorse that Yohji did not even notice when the telepath exited his mind. He continued to indulge in his grief without any help from his tormentor; Nagi’s interaction with the German completely failing to even register.

It took the mattress shifting beneath him as Schuldig’s weight returned to snap him back into the present.

He instinctively flinched as the man approached, but Yohji knew better than to deliberately move. His head hurt too badly for movement anyway.

It was hard to focus.

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Nagi send Schuldig a glare that was past vicious and just short of murderous before turning to his laptop, hunching over it and scowl still on his face.
He had no clue how much he looked like a small, angry, hissing kitten right at that moment.

Quickly, he started searching for the man named Sato, setting all search engines running and opening the programs that would allow him to enter Kritikers network as well. Than, he took his fingers of the keyboard and with his talent he started typing codes in mind-breaking speed.

(OOC: Maybe one of the mods can insert the results of his search in a bit?)

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

[Continued in Wednesday 1.35]