Wednesday 1.42 - Unwelcome observations

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji's overtaxed nerves had finally reached the reluctant conclusion that maybe, maybe he could actually believe Berserker's testament that Schwarz's agenda--at least for the time being--didn't highlight his immediate death. There had certainly already been a prolific quantity of opportunities where the pale man might have already killed him; all so far un-acted upon. It was certainly baffling, but Yohji was growing too tired and worn down to further question his luck.

Well, anyway. It's not as if constantly keeping his guard up was going to do him a whole lot of good. Even were the caution needed, he was thoroughly incapacitated and held little hope of fending off an attack. He might as well rest. It sure didn't look like he was going anywhere any time soon. Sleep would simultaneously help rebuild his strength and make the time pass faster. He closed his eyes and tried to mentally check out.

For about five blissful minutes he succeeded.

And then... .

Muffled noises of a disturbingly familiar nature slowly started to encroach on the silence.

Yohji's eyes snapped open, and then darted to Berserker to try and gague the other man's reaction. This...this wasn't normal was it?

He didn't want to think about it.

No, he really, really, really didn't want to think about it.

Ew.

A strangled cry upgraded the noises from 'muffled' to 'loud.' Yohji grimaced and scrunched his eyes shut again in an attempt to block the unwelcome soundtrack out. He now wished for his wrists to be untied more than ever because his need to cover his ears was urgent.

Out of all the people he might have found himself not especially objecting to being an involuntary voyeur, Mastermind and Oracle most definitely did not make the cut. They were, in fact, two of the very last people he would ever want to have to think about in that capacity.

He was of course assuming Oracle's participation. Mastermind's voice was disturbingly unmistakable. It didn't take a real stretch of the imagination to draw the conclusion that the unfamiliar foreign name being screamed by the telepath belonged to his team leader. It also, to his dismay, didn't take any effort at all for his brain to supply vivid visuals to accompany the cacophony.

It was, Yohji realized, the first time since witnessing some of the horrors of Liott that he had found himself feeling genuinely disturbed by sex.

Comments

[bloodyfarfie.livejournal.com]

Farfarello's attention had been on Nagi, then the kitten again, until he heard those noises. His lone eye widened at the sound as he lifted his head, a smirk slowly appearing on his face. From smirk to grin to outright laughter; Farfarello was, clearly, amused by this development.

"Fuckin' finally!" Oh, he had to find a way to ruin their 'afterglow'.. He looked around the room for a moment before his gaze moved to the kitten in his lap.

He stood up suddenly, cradling the kitten in his arms. His gaze moved to the kitten on the bed still and he grinned, "I'll be back soon.. Try not to visualize it, it helps." He patted Yohji on the head, simply to bother him, then walked out of the room quickly.

[Exit to Wednesday 1.41.... ~Cackle~]

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

“Helps?!” Yohji tried not to think too hard about the implication that Berserker was apparently thoroughly practiced in the art of ignoring loud sex. His mind really didn’t want to explore that. “The damage is fucking done. All the bleach in fucking Tokyo isn’t gonna help that,” he muttered under his breath.

The noise had quieted down now, but he was still left with a strong sense of revulsion.

One of his all time favorite recreational activities was now tragically tainted.

Ugh.

What’s more he couldn’t help feeling rather indignant that his status as a hostage was apparently so low on their list of priorities that they had no problem whatsoever just leaving him barely supervised while they went off and….

Fucking Hell, if he was really that insignificant to them (the fucking kitten had apparently been more interesting, goddamnit,) then they might as well have just spared him all this grief and not bothered with the kidnapping in the first place. It really did serve to hammer in the knowledge that this group of sickos simply got off (apparently literally,) on other people’s pain.

Well, most of them. He was no longer so sure about the kid.

He forced his mind away from the myriad of uninvited images that gave the word ‘perverted’ whole new levels of meaning in his mind, and tried to focus on the fact that he was in the process of being left unsupervised.

He keenly looked around the room, clinging to the admittedly unlikely possibility that he might spot some useful, escape-inducing object that he’d missed the first time.

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Nagi heard the sounds, but at first he didn't quite know what to make of them. When the meaning did sink in, he was hard-pressed to keep the smile off his face. It was the worst-kept secret in all of Schwarz that Schuldig wanted Crawford and wanted him bad. That Crawford had given in now... It had to mean something positive, right? Especially after the events this morning.
He took a deep breath and gathered his laptop up in his arms before looking at Kudou.
"I- Well don't put yourself in danger. We tried hard enough to patch you up."
And with that he was out of the door and off to his room in order to sort through the information his searches had come up with.

[Nagi will need to know what info his searches come up with in regards to Johnson...?]

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

[I thought Nagi had left in 1.40...]

...Put himself in danger?

When during this whole ordeal had he not been in danger? Was there really any room for distinction? Yohji snorted but didn't respond.

The room was still unfortunately dark, although he doubted he would have found much of anything useful were he able to see clearly. He had inventoried his surroundings fairly well when first brought in, before Schuldig was struck down by the vision.

Realistically, he knew that even if Schwarz were stupid enough to leave him alone in a room with a knife, or letter opener, or anything that he might use to free his bonds, the chances of him actually getting all the way out of the building were practically nil. Not to mention that he didn't even know where the building was located. The disconcertion on top of being slowed by injuries spelled a pretty bleak outlook for escape. He'd be recaptured in minutes. If he were lucky...more likely they'd just shoot him.

He sighed and slumped back against the mattress. He hated to feel as though he were giving up...but he didn't really see a point in committing suicide either. This was definitely a no-win situation.

The lack of stimulus present while lying alone in the dark made Yohji more acutely aware of the pain he was in. The dull throbbing of his chest was regaining it's prominence, and his head still felt like it'd been hit with a tire iron.

Not to mention the knowledge that he was lying on Schuldig's bed, which had doubtlessly seen all sorts of action similar to what had elicited all the noise from down the hall added an extra degree of nausea not related to his injuries.

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Balinese had been a fortunate accident after all. His team was quite willing to offer up what little they knew in exchange for his return. And that, in and of itself, was quite telling. But the blond had outlived his usefulness... or, in this particular case... had just outstayed it. Disposing of him would have been much more convenient but Crawford was certain the man still had a part to play in this evolving game. Johnson wanted this pawn held in reserve... Crawford only had to wait to feel out the next few moves for the reasons why.

And to those ends, a vision on the subject would be most useful. Schuldig had righted his head quite effectively. He hadn't felt this clear in weeks. He paused just inside the door to Schuldig's, his eyes adjusting to the dim light before he crossed to slide onto the edge of the bed. The lack of reaction was unexpected. Crawford wrapped a hand around an unwounded shoulder and gave the blond a shove.

"Wake up, Balinese. One last question..."

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji started, not aware that he had actually managed to fall asleep. For a moment he was confused, although even with the lapse in memory he could feel a pervading sense of wrongness about him. Crawford's invasion of his personal space quickly reoriented him though.

The shove jarred his headache back into hammering prevalence. He winced, first from the pain, but then compounded from the realization that Crawford was touching him. He found the concept vehement even before overhearing the precog's recent activities.

He glared in response. He was pretty sure the question would come whether he acknowledged it's asking or not.

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

The sharp look was all the acknowledgement Crawford needed. Weiss's reaction to his questions had been telling in a number of ways as he was sure the... conversation... Balinese had with Schuldig must have been as well. Maybe it was just curiosity, but he couldn't help drawing the parallels between his own team and this group of misfits Kritiker had collected.

Crawford reached under Balinese, pulling his bound hands into easy reach, slowly tugging at the knots.

"You have an opportunity, Balinese. I am letting you go, you get to live another day. But, you don't have to go back to Kritiker. Or to Weiss. They all assumed we would kill you anyway. If you want to disappear, they'd never be the wiser..." Brad wrestled with the knots that had been pulled tight with the blonds struggling. His arms would be screaming once the bloodflow returned. "... Do you want a fresh start Balinese? Do you want to stop killing?"

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji held perfectly still, not trusting himself to have heard Oracle correctly.

...letting him go?

There was a catch. There definitely had to be a catch. Schwarz had enjoyed tormenting him too much, and he could only see them gaining from his death. He couldn't fathom them just 'letting him go' without....

If you want to disappear....

Ah, there it was.

Schuldig's suggestion that had been haunting him almost since this began. The poisonous idea that he couldn't turn off. If only the offer had been made to him a few weeks before....

...He would have taken it then.

...He was glad it wasn't, he hadn't. Or was he? He wasn't sure. He just knew that the window of opportunity where he could live with that had slid closed. If he dwelled too hard on it he felt like the air in the room was weighted and crushing him. His nausea was getting overwhelming.

He shook his head and the pain spiked. It felt like his insides had liquified and sloshed at the movement.

"No," the certainty that he desperately wanted to support his voice failed to materialize. "I've disappeared enough already. Take me back."

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Crawford smirked at the defeated response. Schuldig wouldn't have planted that response, not in so short a time. Balinese was already there. No wonder Schuldig couldn't resist toying with the blond.

Crawford tugged the first knot free, unbinding a few passes of the rope then started on the second.

"Welcome to the club..." Crawford's amusement was clear in his voice but it ended abruptly with a sharp flash of a vision, bright and piercing, causing him to wince and turn his head away. He snapped his eyes open to tunnel vision, the room falling away in spiral, like tumbling down a well. He dropped Balinese's arms, yanking his hands away as if burned by the contact.

"...no..." Crawford stumbled to his feet, trying to back away from the bed, reaching for the wall, obviously unable to see it. "...not... now..."

A grunt of pain as Crawford brought his hands to his head, gripping it tight, face contorted in pain. "...no..." He choked out one last time as the tunnel vision bottomed out in a vision. Not a simple replayed moment of time yet to come but a total immersion in it.

In one last desperate effort, his mental voice choked out a scream. *SCHULDIG!* And with it, his head snapped back, his eyes rolled into his head, his breath suddenly choked into labored gasps and a single rivulet of blood trickled from a nostril as he crumpled to the floor.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

A half-formed retort died on Yohji’s lips as Crawford’s behavior took a sharp turn towards the unpredictable. The man’s irritating condescension melted into what Yohji couldn’t deny was genuine distress. He must be having a vision….

If he’d found Schuldig’s reaction to the second-hand vision disturbing, Crawford’s experience looked downright terrifying.

Now was his chance to get the hell out of Dodge.

Yohji tried to tell his hands to move, to finish undoing the knots that Crawford had already begun unraveling. They remained rigid; he was like a deer caught in headlights.

Were all his visions like this? Was he dying? Would he be okay?

Who cares if he’s okay. Get. Out.

After a few seconds of gaping he snapped himself out of it. Grabbed the loosened binding in his teeth and yanked.

Prodigy cared if you were okay.

His hands free he began desperately clawing at the rope around his ankles. He tried to keep his focus there and away from the man writhing nearby.

Prodigy is not the same as Oracle. This man hurt you. He enjoyed it. Get away from him.

He tossed the rope aside, and tried to rise. His legs had gone numb and he nearly collapsed on the floor as he attempted to shift his weight onto unfeeling limbs. He stumbled back to support himself against the bed.

Don’t waste your only real chance to escape….

Sparse blood reserves oozed back into his legs, assaulting them with thousands of needles. He shakily managed to stand. The room was practically swimming.

He was letting you go. You don’t need to escape.

…Why would you actually trust that?

He’d meant to take a step towards the door. He wasn’t sure what propelled him closer to Oracle.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig snapped awake as Brad's mental voice pierced sharp and deep into his mind. It hurt, but it jolted him from his usual disorientation he suffered from when he first awoke.

He was still naked and covered in the evidence of their activities from only an hour ago, but he didn't care. There would only be one reason for Brad to scream like that. Something was wrong. That was all Schuldig needed to know to have him leaping from the bed and tearing down the hall.

He came to a skidding halt just outside of his doorway, his face going pale as he saw Brad laying on the ground, twitching and convulsing with blood trickling from his nose. He only registered that Yohji was free when he saw him lurch closer to Brad.

It was obvious what had set off this vision. Yohji couldn't have gotten free by himself.

//Get the fuck out of here before I kill you.// Schuldig snarled mentally, obviously angry at the blond.

He knelt down on the floor, quickly pulling Brad into his lap. He grabbed a belt laying near by on the floor, folding it in half and jamming the leather between the precog's teeth to keep him from biting his tongue off. It wasn't the first time Brad had been hit like this, but it was always startling. All Schuldig could do was make sure he didn't hurt himself, projecting anything about the present that he could to draw the man back from his vision. If it lasted too long, Schuldig might have to go in after him.

He really hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

//Nagi. Bring me some painkillers and gatorade, and get Balinese the fuck out of here.// He stroked the hair from Brad's face, looking around for something to stop the blood flowing from his nose.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

He froze again. It was becoming a habit, apparently.

He wasn't accustomed to mental communication. All of Schuldig's previous treatment had failed to desensitize him. The simple sentence was like a nail cleaving through his already pained head.

The method of communication might have been undesired, but the message wasn't. Yohji had never been so relieved to hear Get the fuck out of here before in his life.

He was literally awash in relief. To be free of the rope was a physical godsend, whereas Schuldig's appearance freed his conscience from the grip of guilt over leaving Oracle alone in such a compromised state. He could....go. Just like that.

He turned back towards the door, careful to keep his eyes disciplined on the exit and avoiding contact with Schuldig. The relief of Schuldig's appearance and lack of intervention on his escaping overruled his disturb at the creepy man's failure for decency. But only so long as he vigilantly focused on escaping. He limped forward, cringing with the effort.

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

[OOC: I'll write an interlude on how Nagi plays with his computers as soon as I get the appropriate info on Johnson from Tiff, Nagi enters from that treat]

It was only moments before Nagi exited his room, spurred on by the urgency in Schuldig's mental voice as well as the message itself. Neither could mean anything good.

The doors to the badroom and kitchen slammed open and the painkillers and gatorade came flying from their respective places at top-speed. Nagi caught them and rushed to Schuldig's room, not seeing Kudou in time when he tried to rush into the door as the other blond tried to rush out.
He bounced back from the inpact and would've fallen if his powers hadn't kept him upright.
Instead, he manouvered past the man and into the room, taking only a moment to see Schuldig, completely naked, with Crawford convulsing in his lap. The image hit him like a brick wall.

Nagi managed to pull up his mental shields just in time not to flood Schuldig with the shock, anxiety and fear that shot through him. The telepath had other things to worry about. His mind didn't think being quiet was a good idea though, it was realing with questions.

What's the matter with him? Why is he seizing like that? What's wrong with him? Will he be ok?
A vision, that had to be it. He couldn't think of or allow another reason than that. But why would Crawford seize so much over a vision? He knew they were painful but Crawford had the best mental control he'd ever seen and visions never hit him like that. Why?

He stood frozen, painkillers and drink in hand and staring at the two on the ground.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

"Thanks." Schuldig said, motioning to the ground beside him. He didn't need the items just this moment, but Brad would need them once he came back. And he might need them if he had to go in and find the precog.

He knew Nagi was worried. He was worried too. It suddenly occurred to him that the younger boy had never seen Brad in the midst of a mind swallowing vision. Nagi couldn't even begin to comprehend what was going on, except that Brad was hurt. He could feel the questions slithering under the surface of his shields.

"I'll explain later. Right now, Kudou needs to be gone. Take him home, and I'll take care of this." He said.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji was too weak to immediately recover from the impact. Colliding with Nagi dropped him like a rock.

He remained on the floor for a moment, dizzy, hesitating at the effort to try and right himself. His gaze wandered back to the crisis in the room.

What was he doing? He could get up. He knew he could push himself to move. He needed to take Schuldig’s advice and get the fuck out of there.

Something more than the pain was stalling him.

His mind traitorously wondered if Schuldig’s offer was an open ended deal…..

How can you even consider that for a second?

He needed to get back. Achingly. The driving need to see Ran again nearly overshadowed all of the cumulative pain from his injuries. It had been building in urgency throughout the ordeal until it nearly rivaled his need to breathe. He. Had. To. Get. Back.

Period.

But…. Just moments before he’d been captured, hadn’t Ran just been telling him how he wasn’t wanted? Just how stupid was he to choose proximity to someone who didn’t even care about him over an escape from…from everything that tortured him. He could loose the memory of killing the only person he’d ever previously loved. He could stop killing. And here he was choosing to walk away from all of that, and for what? To be further tortured by being around Ran, knowing that the man had almost been willing to be with him but…couldn’t go through with it.

You really are. You’re a fucking masochist. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you weren’t fucking miserable. Mastermind could see right through you.

He yanked his gaze away from the spectacle and fixed it on Nagi.

He tried to tell himself that the very fact that Mastermind and Oracle were making the offer was proof alone that it was the wrong choice. They were not here to help him.

But maybe Nagi was.

He put his hand out, silently asking him to follow Schuldig’s command, and get him back to the Koneko.

[ginnyvos.livejournal.com]

Nagi's mind grabbed onto the order like it was a lifeline. In a way it was; it was something to do, something to focus on and act on.
He could feel his mind calming down as he started employing it on his next task. He shoved the emotions to the back of his mind and completely focussed on the matter at hand.
He floated the painkillers and drink over to the place Schu had indicated and reached out to pull Kudou to his feet.

After a moment of almost useless pulling, he used his powers to bring the man upright instead.

"Come with me," he told Kudou, voice once more devoid of any emotions.

[Exit to Wednesday 1.45]

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

[Yohji silently exits with Nagi.]

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Crawford never felt himself hit the floor. His inner sight stole control with a last bit of provocation… the final contact with Kudou. He knew the contact had spurred this vision but only if Kudou had something to do with it. But the thought slipped away incomplete as the vision materialized, stronger than any ever before.

Brad struggled to hold onto himself, his body choking harder in response, the blood flowing even more freely from his nose. He wouldn’t let the visions win. He would stroke out before he let himself be a slave to his gift… mad and mumbling disjointed prophecies from a cell for the rest of his days, as the elders had wanted. With a pained grunt, he tried to drag himself out of the vision. Every muscle went rigid with his mental effort only relenting when the vision sucked him out of reality and fully into what was yet to be.

It was cold, bone chillingly so, the dead of winter in the only place that could make Crawford’s veins icy over. Rosenkreuz. It had been decades since he last saw this place. He was outfitted in all black, loaded down with an insane amount of weapons and ammunition. They had to do it this way. It was the only way to save them. They had freed the kids from the dorms with minimal resistance and that bode poorly. It just meant it was the trap he anticipated all along. He waved the others against the wall, snapping a sharp look to Schuldig to silence the children who couldn’t help but whine and whimper and complain under their breaths. Crawford slapped a fresh clip into the uzi as Farfarello joined him.

“They’re waitin’…” The Irishman took the offered clip from Crawford and refreshed his own weapon.

Crawford shut his eyes and the vision came, just enough of a glimpse to offer the tactical advantage.

“We wouldn’t want to disappoint them…“ He signaled to the others to hold their positions and with a nod to Farfarello, they slipped around the corner.

His body reacted to the cold with a slight shivering working its way into his nerves. Brad’s fingers twitched with the motions he was reliving… or rather, preliving… in his mind. His lips moved but as he spoke the words but no sound . The vision was all too pervasive. Every sense was fully engaged, the vision as real as life and, mentally, just as dangerous. But still, he could sense this was not right, his consciousness still fighting to reassert itself. A struggle he was slowly losing with each passing second.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig did his best not to worry as Brad shivered, his muscles tensing and releasing. This was much worse than it had been in the man's bedroom. Projecting the present wasn't going to be enough.

He would have to go in.

Schuldig frowned a bit, picking up the bottle of painkillers and downing several in a preemptive attempt to stave off the headache he knew he would have, then carefully bent over Brad, pressing his forehead to the precogs as he reached out mentally.

//Brad.. Brad... calm down. I'm here. I won't let anything happen. Just relax before you hurt yourself.//

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Crawford and Farfarello advanced on a squadron of guards, stalking silently from the shadows as they both pulled black anodized blades from their flack jackets. Crawford didn’t have to signal the Irishman, he knew his opportunity when he saw it and took it. Crawford followed quick on his heels and together they gutted all eight men, the blood splatter striping Crawford’s hair effectively hiding the grey at his temples like a dye job. With a mental call to Schuldig he moved them all forward, meeting them at a junction to circumvent the carnage, sparing the children any more horror. Omi had found his way back to them and Crawford passed him look of concern for the blood seeping from a wound in his leg and shoulder. He shook the concern off with a stern look of his own, refocusing on the mission as he motioned for a weapon.

Somewhere in the background of his thoughts he could hear Schuldig‘s voice like a whisper and it was all too easily ignored.

At the junction, Hidaka and Nagi came barreling from yet another direction, a few more children in tow, breathing hard, the children winded, all still wide eyed and nearing panic. And from the direction they were heading, a sudden eruption of gunfire. Crawford pulled both weapons from his sides and tore off in that direction, Farfarello, Hidaka and Nagi close on his heels.

/You aren’t leaving me to babysit./ Schuldig’s mental voice was both indignant and anxious.

/You’re the best defense they have. / Brad would not back down. He had made a promise. He cast a longing glance over his shoulder as he sped down the corridor.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Watching the vision play out was strange. Seeing himself, and hearing his own thoughts being projected was... creepy. He'd generally been glad that his talent was not precognition. But right now, he was VERY glad. Precogs were probably the only talent that, when it came to losing control, had it worse than telepaths.

He only grew concerned for his own safety when he felt his mind being drawn to his future mental twin. In Brad's mind, they were one in the same. He had to remind himself to stay seperate.

The vision didn't seem to be ending any time soon. And Brad didn't seem inclined to listen to him. He was too far gone, too deep inside the vision to pay attention. It didn't mean he wouldn't keep trying. After all, he learned tonight that persistence can pay off.

He just hoped it would end before Brad could kill himself, or drive himself insane.

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Ran and Yohji were cornered in the courtyard, pinned down by gunfire. He waved Nagi forward and with a brief glance at the situation, all the weapons in the guards hands flew from their hands. They opened fire on the men felling them quickly before bursting fully into the courtyard, turning to fire on the men in the small overhead balconies. ran and Yohji joined them but not before grabbing up a few weapons of their own from the pile in the center of courtyard.

Still, Brad struggled with the invasive vision, his body tiring from the stress of it, the blood flow worsening, his spine contorting in pain. He’d had a vision this sweeping only once before and that was the vision that showed him the fall of the elders. He was only fifteen at the time, his control nowhere near as solid as it was now. He fought it then too but was swept under by it all too easily. Now, he could fight it to the death… his own death… with unrepentant resolve. His body was starting to resent his stubborn pride.

A single shot rang out behind them.

/Brad!/ Schuldig ‘s voice was a weak echo in his head and he knew the sound of his distress all too well. He turned and bolted back to Schuldig and the children, noticeably fatigued and running on nothing but adrenaline.

There in the corridor, Schuldig stood motionless. The children were all huddled together on the floor behind him, frozen in place. In front of him another squadron of guards also stood motionless, their weapons all brought to bear on the redhead. In his arms, he protectively shielded a single boy. Kichirou Fujimiya, Aya’s son. Schuldig was in all their heads, keeping the children down and out of harms way, keeping the guards immobile all while bleeding from the seering bullet wound that sliced across his temple, hot blood flowing down his face as he began trembling with the effort. Crawford’s heart nearly stopped beating.

Not Schuldig. Not like this.

This was obviously an elaborate trap, one specifically designed for him and Schuldig, perpetrated by an ages old enemy - the only human being Crawford couldn’t see. Despite his intuition, emotion drove him into action. The wound was bad enough but the effort Schuldig was expending was a very real danger to his sanity. Crawford broke from under cover focused only on his redhead.

As soon as Crawford stepped from the shadows, three shots were fired. The bullets pierced the light armor with deadly efficiency one tearing through his shoulder, one into his chest, the other into his side.

Crawford’s body jerked with the phantom bullet wounds, coughing out a spray of blood around the leather bit in his mouth.

Everything moved in slow motion as Brad looked to the wound in his chest, dark eyes seeking out Schuldig as he dropped to one knee. Behind him the others all charged into the frey, felling those held immobile by Schuldig. Nagi and Hidaka taking to those hidden from view, Ran, Yohji and Farfarello intent to kill everything in their path and Omi rushing to the children and Schuldig firing around them with deadly accuracy as he ran. Brad watched as Schuldig dropped to the ground, his eyes glazed over in the way he never hoped to see again. The pain, the terror of that moment had him screaming out, reaching for Schuldig even as he dropped to the ground struggling for breath.

Omi and Farfarello gathered up Schuldig as Nagi held any remaining bodies at bay. Crawford looked up as a strong arm lifted him from the ground.

“Come on old man… no laying down on the job.” Yohji forced a weak smile but the fear was clearly etched on his face.

Another helping arm under the other side got Crawford to his feet with another cough of blood.

“Yeah, you don‘t get to ditch us that easily.” Ran‘s determined gaze brooked no arguments. “You promised her…”

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

The moment Brad began coughing blood was the moment Schuldig started to panic. He'd seen Brad like this once before, but even then it hadn't been quite so bad. Probably because at 15, Brad couldn't fight as hard as he was now.

"Brad. Brad. Wake up, Brad. It's just a vision, you're okay. You haven't been shot. Brad, wake up now." Schuldig all but whimpered, his mental and physical voice in sync. He was very glad that there was no one around to seem him so obviously upset.

And seeing his own death really didn't help his panic at all.

"Brad, come on. Stay with me. How can this vision play out if you die right now?" He said, patting the man lightly on the face. "Wake up, Brad."

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

Crawford struggled to stay upright, his knees buckling repeatedly as Ran and Yohji draped his arms around their necks, dragging him off in a trail of blood. Nagi was now cradling Schuldig in his arms, his limbs hanging limply, his head lulled back like a rag doll. A shiver trembled through him, the cold, the loss of blood and a wave of hopelessness. After all this time, it couldn’t end like this.

Schuldig.

“He’ll need a quiet mind…” Crawford choked out as he looked to Ran, wheezing and struggling for breath as his collapsed lung filled with blood. “… please… don’t let him go… not like this…”

Ran looked to Crawford with equal parts determination and denial. “No… you’ll have to do it. I can’t…”

“I won’t make it to the outer wall.” He was bleeding out fast. He didn’t have time to argue with the stubborn redhead. “Tell Aya I’m sorry… and tell Schuldig…” Again he coughed, fresh bright blood spraying out in front of him. “… tell him…” His voice grew weaker. Ran and Yohji were now carrying him as he faded fast.

Again, a cough of blood though this time his struggles grew weak, his body mirroring his vision. His mind was making it all much too real, his body responding as if it were there.

“He knows.” Yohji reassured, willing himself to move faster as if it would somehow help but knowing nothing could now.

“…no…” Crawford’s voice dropped to a weak wheeze of a whisper. “… tell him I said the words… I love him. I always have.”

Ran’s face grew hard, anger and pain contorting his features into a mask of pure fury. “NO! YOU TELL HIM… damn it, Brad… DON’T DO THIS!”

Crawford’s head dropped forward, no resistance left in his body as they carried him. The others pulled up at one of the hidden doorways that lead into the outer wall of the compound, the smallest squint of his eyes and Nagi forced the antiquated stone door open with a creak and Omi herded the children inside the dark, dank space without hesitation. Farfarello passed Ran and Yohji a look… it was hard and cold as ever but long years together betrayed the pain in his single golden eye.

Kichirou broke free of Omi’s grip bolting for his uncle’s side, tears freely falling from his violet eyes. ‘He can’t die!” The boy sobbed, tugging hard at Ran’s side.

Ran looked to Yohji, the pain finally creeping into his expression.

The boy dove for Crawford, hugging him close, blood immediately staining his tears. “I won’t let you die.” The boy hugged him even tighter, a soft pale violet glow engulfing him, slowly encasing Crawford as well.

“Ki… NO!” Ran screamed.

Crawford’s last image was of the top of the small head of blood red hair that faded into nothing but a purple haze…

Crawford finally collapsed in Schuldig’s arms, rigid muscles going suddenly slack. As his head rolled back, a finally labored exhale… and then nothing.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Schuldig quickly pulled out of Brad's mind, looking down at the man's still form. Blood was drooling down his chin and neck. Carefully, Schuldig took the ruined belt from Brad's mouth, setting it aside and not worrying about the blood ruining his carpet. He had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

It wasn't like death was something new. He lived and breathed death. It was his mother and father. But despite his intimacy with it, he couldn't control the few tears that slipped down his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away, a bit of blood smearing over his cheeks. Even though no one was home, he wouldn't let himself cry.

Slowly, his fingers slid down Brad's neck, checking for a pulse.

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

The vision faded as quickly as it had hit leaving a hollow silent void in it's wake. Mundane visions took their opportunity to encroach where they were usually denied, the din rising slowly to echo all around, their lure all too seductive after the confusion of dead silence.

It was a long few moments that Brad remained still, not breathing, his heartbeat nearly nonexistent. His conscious mind thought itself dead but once the parasitic vision relented the most basic survival instincts assumed control. Brad lurched as his body suddenly gasped for breath... all his basic functions of life rebooted at the most primal unconscious level.

Slowly his breathing evened out. Three deep bruises flushed black under his skin, his body having made the phantom bullet wounds a partial reality. After so much turmoil, his mind needed time to sort itself out, the implications of the vision not even registering as a concern.

[aki-jade.livejournal.com]

Relief flooded Schuldig's system when he felt the slight flutter of a pulse, then began to grow stronger. Schuldig watched, waiting until Brad's breathing returned to normal.

He released a heavy sigh, scrubbing a weary hand over his face. It had already been a long evening, and it was still early. He sat there for a while, watching Brad sleep, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off, and his limbs to stop shaking. He didn't even want to think about what had happened in the vision. But his mind, surprisingly, didn't hurt from it.

Slowly, he stood up, then bent over to lift Brad, grunting softly. The man was surprisingly heavy when he was all limp limbs. But it wasn't unbearable. He made his way back to Brad's bedroom, carefully settling the man on his bed. He only left long enough to fetch a damp rag, then began cleaning the blood from Brad's face and neck.

Once he was done, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Brad as if wanting to make sure that the man wasn't just going to up and die. His fingers danced along the edges of the ugly black bruises on his chest, frowning at their implications. They were perfect replicas of gunshot wounds. If they had been real, they would be fatal. He shivered, then pulled the sheets up to cover them. He couldn't look at them anymore, and he sure as hell didn't want Nagi to come in and see them.

Finally, when he was certain Brad would survive a few minutes without him, he got up, made his way to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up.

[oracle-dreams.livejournal.com]

[[ continued in 1.47 - Recovery ]]