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Dragon Cycle	By : RubyRoh Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6233 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own WeiÃŸ Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Dragon Cycle - Pt 5 - Stein

Disclaimer: Of course the WK and Schwarz boys don't belong to me, we just have fun together. I write this stuff for pleasure not profit.

Author's Notes: Thanks as always to Iron Dog, my wonderful beta.

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The man standing at the door smiled with all the warmth of a crocodile. When he spoke, it was in cultured German. “Brad. Long time no see.” Then he laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day when Eszett’s great Oracle was taken by surprise,” he added.
Crawford had been surprised. Surprised because this man was the last person he’d expected to find at the door; surprised and irritated that his Talent hadn’t forewarned him of this visit.
Stein’s gaze moved to a point at Crawford’s left and he smiled again. “Hello, Nagi, remember me?”
“Vaguely,” the boy answered flatly. Perhaps Nagi thought his leader was incapable of speech because he went on to explain, rather brusquely, “We were just on our way out.”
“Ah,” Stein smiled again, unfazed. “I’ve come a long way. Won’t you invite me in?”
Crawford stepped back, opening the door wider. He knew this was not a social call and Stein would come in whether Brad wanted him to or not. Asking was only a polite formality.
“Come through,” he said once their visitor was inside and the door safely closed again. As he led the way to the living room, he asked, “What brings you here?”
“Is that coffee I smell?” Stein asked, ignoring the direct question.
It may have been years since Crawford last saw Stein, but it seemed that little about the man - from his appearance to his habits - had changed. Stein would speak his piece when he was ready and not a moment sooner.
“I’ll get it,” Nagi offered. “How do you take it?”
“Black, no sugar,” Stein said.
Nagi disappeared towards the kitchen and Crawford and Stein continued along the passageway.
“Where are the other two members of your team?” Stein enquired as they entered the living room.
“At a safe house,” Crawford answered. “Shall I contact them?”
“No, no need for that,” Stein assured him with a wave of his hand.
As soon as they were seated, Stein stalled any questions Crawford might be about to ask by stating, “We’ll wait for Nagi.” Then he smiled, his demeanor becoming light and convivial. “You look well, Brad,” he complimented.
“You, too,” Crawford replied, his internal alarms going off at Stein’s attitude. If memory served, and it usually did, Stein was only pleasant when he wanted or needed something.
But his reply hadn’t been a lie. Stein had the kind of Nordic good looks that, in his younger years, could have seen him successful in the world of modeling. As it was, Stein was in his early thirties now, and his career path had been set for him over two decades ago. The stench of Rosenkreuz was still strong on him.
Despite his looks, the man’s presence was unsettling and not the least because his arrival had not been foreseen. He was clearly here on Eszett business. That worried Crawford. Nothing good could come of a surprise visit by a minion of Eszett.
Perhaps that explains my headache, Crawford thought.
“Nagi’s certainly growing into a fine-looking young man,” Stein went on. “He still has something of the waif about him, though.” He grinned at Crawford. “You’ll need to keep an eye on him. That combination could attract the wrong kinds of people.”
“I’m a good guardian. I won’t let him fall into the wrong hands,” Crawford assured him without a trace of humor.
Stein sat watching him. The smile he gave Crawford never reached his eyes. Those eyes remained as flat as a shark’s. “I never thought I would see you again,” he said after a moment. “Yet,” he gestured widely, “here we are. Life is full of surprises, don’t you think?”
“So it seems,” Crawford answered. He hoped Nagi didn’t dawdle over the coffee. He wanted to get down to business. He needed to know what Stein wanted before they would be free to go get Schuldig and Farfarello.
“This is a very nice setup you have here,” Stein continued. He was clearly intent on making small talk.
“It serves its purpose,” Crawford replied, wishing for the telepathic link Schuldig usually provided so he could tell Nagi to hurry up. Something about Stein and the unexpected visit was making him nervous.
Stein laughed. “Christ, Brad, loosen up,” he said. His gaze moved to the doorway. “How do you put up with him, Nagi?” he asked.
“We manage well enough,” Nagi said as he carried a mug to their guest.
Stein thanked him and Nagi took up a place on the couch. Stein sipped the coffee then smiled at the boy. “Perfect,” he said. He took another sip before directing his attention at Crawford. His cheerful demeanor was gone and, when he spoke, his tone was all business. “My arrival surprised you,” he said bluntly.
It wasn’t a question so Crawford didn’t bother to answer.
“How long ago was your last vision?” Stein asked him.
Normally such a question wouldn’t unsettle Crawford. But coming on the heels of his late rising, his headache, and his failure to See Stein’s arrival, the American felt unease began to uncoil within him. “Yesterday afternoon,” he replied.
Now Stein set his mug on the coffee table and his gaze moved to Nagi. “Can you pick that up for me?” he asked of the boy.
Nagi held the man’s gaze for a moment before directing his attention to the mug. It rose from the table, sailed smoothly across the short distance between them and into the boy’s hand.
“Good,” Stein approved. “May I have it back?”
Nagi sent it back without mishap.
“Even better,” Stein nodded. There seemed to be the faintest hint of relief in his voice.
With the questions being asked and watching the demonstration of Nagi’s Talent, Crawford was feeling less and less comfortable with the situation. Stein was focused on their special abilities and that hit at the very heart of Crawford and all he was.
There was also the concern that, should his Talent be failing for whatever reason, he may be required to return to Rosenkreuz. That was not a pleasant thought and Crawford had no intention of going back. Of course, the very idea that his Talent was failing was preposterous.
“What is this all about?” he asked.
Stein held up a finger. “Just answer me a few more questions, then I’ll answer yours,” he said as he lowered his hand. “When was the last time you conversed mentally with your telepath?”
“Last night,” Crawford said.
“What time was that?” Stein wanted to know.
“It was late. Around one in the morning,”
“How long were you actively connected?”
Crawford thought a moment. “No more than a few minutes,” he replied.
“Have you tried to contact him today?”
“Just once.”
“And?” Stein raised his eyebrows in query.
“He didn’t answer,” was all Crawford offered. He didn’t care to go into details about the German’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge his attempts to contact him. Or why Schuldig had cut off communication the previous night.
Stein’s gaze moved to Nagi. “Did you connect with him last night?”
“No,” Nagi replied flatly.
Stein frowned a moment, clearly occupied with his own thoughts.
Crawford knew that pressing the man would get him nowhere. Stein would reveal the reason for this visit in his own time. But it was clear the team’s Talents were the focus. Stein had first-hand evidence of Crawford’s failure, he’d tested Nagi’s skill and now he’d asked questions about Schuldig. Had the telepath suffered a similar failure? Is that why the links he’d established were dead?
But psionic powers didn’t just fail…
“I assume that, with your team in two locations, you had a job to do for your Japanese employer last night?” Stein asked.
“That’s right,” Crawford replied.
“There were no mishaps?”
“Nothing of note.”
“And you contacted your telepath about 1am?”
“Schuldig,” Crawford reminded Stein. “His name is Schuldig - and he contacted me.”
Stein made a self-effacing gesture. “Schuldig, yes of course. So, he contacted you around 1am and after that you had no contact with him, or he with you?”
“None.”
“And when you attempted to initiate contact again today there was no response.”
“Exactly,” Crawford nodded.
“No concerns that you couldn’t make him hear you?”
“No.” Despite his calm reply, Crawford’s unease had increased a few degrees.
Is that why Schuldig hadn’t responded, Crawford asked himself? Not because he was throwing a queen-sized bitch-fit, but because he didn’t hear the call. Is my Talent affected to such a degree that I can’t activate a simple mind link with an extremely powerful telepath? It seemed his assumption that the headache he woke up with was symptomatic of a much larger problem was correct. A shiver of unease worked its way down Crawford’s spine.
“So, this isn’t anything out of the usual, then?” Stein’s voice broke into his thoughts.
Crawford picked up the thread of the conversation easily.
“No. Sometimes Schuldig will close the links if he’s particularly tired and he doesn’t want to be disturbed while he’s sleeping,” he explained.
“I see,” Stein nodded to himself.
“Perhaps if you told us what brings you here,” Crawford prompted.
Stein fixed his pale gaze on the American. “The reason for that is simple,” he said. “In the early hours of this morning, someone took your telepath down.”
Crawford’s heart thumped hard in his chest. “No,” he denied the statement and all its implications. “I would have known if that had happened.”
“Is he dead?” Nagi asked quietly.
“No. No, no,” Stein shook his head. “He’s in stasis, rebuilding, as it were.”
Crawford allowed himself a moment to let the relief of that assurance sink in before he rose to his feet. “We have to get over there,” he said.
Stein gestured for him to sit down. “No, we don’t,” he drawled. “I have a team in the vicinity.”
“He’s been there for hours, unconscious – with Farfarello,” Nagi said in a low voice.
Crawford looked at the boy, who was also standing. It was clear that Nagi had found the basis for his earlier unease. Crawford returned his attention to their Eszett guest.
“If your team tries to enter that house, Farfarello will kill them all,” he warned.
“Exactly why they will keep clear,” Stein replied calmly. His expression softened a little. “Please, Brad, accept how things are for now and sit down. We’re not going anywhere. Your telepath is safe. My team is close by the house and he has the Irish Berserker inside to protect him. How much safer could you make him?”
Despite knowing all that had taken place between Schuldig and Farfarello last night, Crawford was far from happy at having to leave them alone together. Especially when the telepath was in no condition to protect himself from his protector.
“Farfarello is not the most stable of people,” he pointed out to their visitor. “I’d prefer to go to the house myself.”
“You can’t – not yet, at least,” Stein said bluntly in a voice that demanded obedience.
It had been many years since Crawford had taken orders from anyone from Rosenkreuz, and he was in no mood to take up old practices.
“This is my team,” he said, his tone dark. “I am not prepared to lose my telepath to anyone’s whims.”
Stein calmly laid out his cards. “My orders come direct from Eszett,” he said. “If you would sit down, I can tell you what we know.”
“You could tell us on the way to the house,” Crawford persisted.
“We will go to the house – when the time is right.” Stein was equally stubborn. He kept his gaze fixed on Crawford. “Please sit.” When this didn’t achieve the desired response, he went on, “Rest assured, if anything untoward were happening, or about to happen, I would hear of it. My team is top-notch and they can be trusted to keep all senses open to danger, from any direction.”
“Does your telepath know what thought patterns to look for to know when Farfarello begins the slide towards psychotic?” Crawford wanted to know.
“Your Irishman is in protective mode at the moment. There is nothing about his thoughts or behavior to cause even the smallest alarm,” Stein assured him.
Crawford remained standing a moment longer before reluctantly taking up his seat again.
“Very well,” he acquiesced. He could feel Nagi’s gaze on him. He looked to the boy. “We’ll hear Herr Altmann out.”
Nagi’s expression said he disapproved of this course of action. It didn’t matter. Crawford expected him to do as he was told. He didn’t want Nagi and their guest to square off. Nagi would wipe the floor with Stein – despite the man’s formidable Talent. That wasn’t the sort of attention Crawford wanted Eszett directing their way.
“Nagi?” he queried. He didn’t raise his voice, but Nagi must have caught the undertone of command in the way his name was spoken.
The boy sat down without a word, but the scowl on his face spoke volumes. He set his chin mulishly and folded his arms across his thin chest. He obviously thought they should go to the safe house and collect Schuldig and Farfarello. Crawford agreed but had to play by Stein’s rules for the time being. Crawford directed his attention to their unwanted guest.
“We’re waiting,” he prompted.
“This is not the first incident of its type,” Stein began, sitting back in his seat. “In the last week and a half, we have had operatives attacked in Belgium, Austria and Russia. The method always appears to be the same. The results certainly were - until now. As is apparent, you are all still alive.”
“The other teams are all dead?” Crawford asked, proud of himself for keeping any shock from his voice.
Stein gave a nod. “Yes, five full teams taken out. Eszett command is furious, as you would expect.”
Crawford knew his shields were exceptionally strong; strong enough to keep a telepath as powerful, and nosey, as Schuldig out of his head…most of the time. But he was aware that Stein’s team included a telepath unfamiliar to him, so Crawford prudently kept all scathing thoughts about Eszett subdued.
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Fortunately for you, it appears the attacker overestimated themselves," Stein continued.
“Attacker? You know this is one person acting alone?” Crawford quizzed.
The man from Eszett made a desultory gesture. “To be honest, we know very little. At this point in time we’ve been forced to assume far too much. I dislike that. Assuming things leads to deadly mistakes,” he replied. “However, that may all change once your telepath regains his senses. We’re hopeful he’ll be able to provide some clues as to the identity of this renegade Talent.”
Crawford began to feel a little easier about leaving Schuldig at the safe house. He’d become uniquely useful to Eszett so Stein’s operatives would guard him to the full extent of their powers and with their very lives if needs be. And if, for some reason they failed in their task, there was always Farfarello lurking within the house. Crawford believed with near absolute certainty that the Irishman would defend Schuldig even more vigorously now that they had shared a bed.
“Why don’t you tell us what you’ve surmised so far, then?” he invited.
“Ah, well,” Stein sighed, “it would be best for us to wait until your telepath is awake again. Then we can all talk together and, perhaps, find some answers. Until then, much of what I could say would only be supposition.”
Stein was playing whatever cards he did hold very close to his chest. Crawford could see the sense in waiting until the team was together again before delving deeper into this mystery, but it didn’t mean he was any the happier at having to wait.
“However,” Stein went on, “there are a few facts I can give you now. It’s not much, but it might make you more comfortable about this current situation.” He stopped, looking from Crawford to Nagi and back again. When neither of them spoke, he drew a breath. “As I’ve said, this is the sixth attack of its type. This one differs only in that the team survived. An investigative crew was sent out following the first attack but they found very little in the way of clues and nothing to help identify the assailant or assailants. The same has been true for the attacks that followed. Not even the psychometrics sent with the crews were able to discern anything of use.
“In these types of circumstances, Eszett decided to provide assistance to those teams in positions of importance. Schwarz, obviously, was one of those. My team was assigned to you. It was unfortunate that the assailant moved quicker than Eszett. We were still in the air when Clara sensed the attack.”
“Clara?” Crawford queried. The name was vaguely familiar to him.
“Do you recall her?” Stein asked with a wry grin.
Crawford frowned slightly as he tried to recall a face from the past to fit the name.
“When she first came to us she had blue hair and yellow contacts,” Stein reminded him.
“And a childish disposition,” Crawford added, his memory of the girl quite clear now.
Stein gave a short laugh before continuing. “You do remember. Despite her failings, she is rather gifted. You’ll be pleased to know that she’s grown out of her childishness and is an extremely strong and disciplined telepath now. She sensed the attack on your telepath and felt him shut down. For her own safety, she had to close off from him but she did say that he acted with great speed, in which case, we’re hopeful the damage to him isn’t too great.”
“Clara can’t scan him?” Crawford asked.
Stein shook his head. “In this instance, no. She did a quick scan within minutes of the attack. She discovered that his shields were shattered, so we thought it prudent to shield him while he recovers.”
The knowledge that Schuldig’s shields were decimated made Crawford feel ill. Shields could be rebuilt, of course, but a telepath without shields was as vulnerable as a newborn baby. Hearing that Stein’s team included a Shield who was protecting Schuldig’s mind should have made him feel more at ease. But it didn’t. He wanted to know just how damaged Schuldig was, but they couldn’t know that until the telepath woke up.
But Crawford still wanted to go to the house and see the German, even though he was comatose. It wouldn’t help, but he would feel so much better just for having seen him.
“We also thought it prudent to keep his surroundings as quiet as possible. Let him focus solely on rebuilding,” Stein continued. “That is why it’s best for us to remain here until he begins to come out of his stasis. The fewer people there, the better - less chance of unnecessary noise or disturbances. He really needs complete quiet for now.”
“Which he’ll have unless Farfarello gets bored and decides to cut him open so he can watch his heart beat its last and play in his blood,” Nagi muttered darkly. “Then the screams disturbing him will be his own.”
Stein smiled benignly. “That won’t happen,” he assured the boy. “My telepath will sense any heightening of bloodlust or psychosis.”
“How do we get there in time to stop him doing whatever he wants?” Crawford asked. “You did say that your team wouldn’t enter the house because Farfarello was there.”
“If he poses a threat, he can be dealt with,” Stein said dismissively.
“Dealt with how?” Crawford wanted to know, his tone menacing.
Stein held up a placating hand. “He wouldn’t be damaged - much,” he soothed. “Believe me, Eszett values your team too highly to allow any of you to be harmed permanently.”
“I’d like to know what plans you have in place to prevent permanent damage to any of my team,” Crawford pressed.
“Containment, nothing more than that,” Stein answered. “We’re well aware of the difficulties your Berserker and his particular…idiosyncrasies…presents.” The smile he gave Crawford now contained something of surprise. “You’ve become quite the mother-hen,” he remarked.
Crawford knew there was nothing warm in the smile he returned. “There are a lot of foxes out there,” he said.
Stein laughed and nodded. “Indeed,” he agreed.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Farfarello stabbed absently at the windowsill where he sat. He turned his attention from the grey sky outside to the bed where Schuldig continued to lie as still as a corpse.
Long night had moved into morning, and morning into afternoon.
Farfarello had left the bed soon after the seizure. He’d dressed himself then gone to the dining room. Collecting a chair, he’d brought it back and placed it beside the bed. He’d sat there for hours, completely still, watching and waiting.
Apart from the steady rise and fall of the narrow chest that let him know the telepath was still alive, there’d not been one movement from Schuldig, not even a twitch. His breathing was so quiet now it couldn’t be heard.
Farfarello knew the rules when Schuldig was like this: keep an eye on him, but otherwise leave him alone. He’d recover in his own time.
Time. Farfarello had had plenty of that and he’d spent a good deal of it turning things over in his mind. He may be dancing with insanity, but there was nothing wrong with his mind when he decided to put it to use to puzzle things out.
He’d considered the fact that Schuldig’s seizure had occurred in the early hours of the morning and now it was late afternoon. Yet they were still alone.
Where was Crawford? Didn’t his Talent allow him to foresee things like this? Of course, he’d heard the American say that he didn’t See everything but surely something like this was big enough that he would have Seen it?
So why hadn’t Crawford come? That was the question that had bedeviled Farfarello for hours. The one mind that could provide answers was out of commission, and Farfarello in no way wanted to leave Schuldig alone in his current state - not even so he might get back home and force answers out of their leader.
That was assuming Crawford was at home. Where else he would be, Farfarello couldn’t guess. But he’d tried phoning the American around midday, and there’d been no answer. Crawford was always up and about before midday, even after a mission. Perhaps he had problems of his own to deal with today.
It wasn’t like this was the first time Schuldig had overdone things and passed out for hours. Crawford hadn’t seemed overly concerned on those occasions. So maybe this was nothing out of the ordinary, after all, despite that there’d been no apparent catalyst and despite that there’d been more blood lost than was usual. All the same, the blood loss hadn’t been great enough to cause real concern. It had seemed so at the time only because it had flowed so unexpectedly. Blood, as Farfarello knew all too well, spread to an amazing degree. It was worse than spilt Coca-Cola for that.
After hours of rumination, Farfarello had come to the conclusion that Crawford was aware of what had happened and that he wasn’t overly concerned. Farfarello was now convinced that Crawford would show up in person when he could.
There was nothing else he could conclude. Nothing else he could do but sit and wait.
He looked at the still figure in the bed. He knew the rules; don’t touch him and don’t talk to him. But I want to touch. I want to lie down alongside him, and hold him, and maybe he’ll know he’s not alone.
He rammed the knife into the scarred windowsill and gazed back out at the grey sky that mirrored his mood and waited.

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Dragon Cycle