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Coming Home	By : katami Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 2558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
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Schuldig was never quite sure how he managed to finish his shields, or exactly how long it took. One day drifted easily and unnoticeably into the next and the next when all he had to judge them by was the starscape. But it was better being stuck in his timeless head than it was in the real world with Crawford.

He didn’t know what to do with the American, what to make of him or how to treat him anymore. He snipped and snarled at Crawford his team leader, but that wasn’t all the man was anymore. His team leader wouldn’t have helped him or held him or washed his hair. Crawford wouldn’t have given him his sanity, or as close to sanity as he was ever likely to come. The man who’d done that was someone else. Someone just as dangerous as Crawford but for entirely different reasons. And the snippets of the future he’d seen hadn’t helped matters, just left him alternately longing for and frightened of the promised future.

Crawford he wouldn’t have minded fucking, because with Crawford it would have been just sex; maybe a way to earn a perk or two. But instinct told him sex with this new Brad Crawford would be more than two bodies getting off and that was dangerous.

He growled and lit a cigarette, taking a hard pull on it as Crawford looked over at him with concern. Of course, Brad had spent the entire drive and most of the last week or so circumspectly watching him, looking for signs of strain or cracking around the edges of his mind; worried about his shields. He was good. His new shields were better than anything a Rosenkreuz telepath had ever seen. They would hold against Tokyo. They would hold against anything. That was the one thing amidst all the shit with Crawford he was sure of.

He was good. Or he would be good if he could figure out just what the hell he was supposed to do with one Brad fucking Crawford. He had spent most of the week in his head simply to avoid the awkwardness of dealing with the American. Brad had held him and cuddled him but the few times Schuldig had made passes he’d been not only shot down but ignored. That had confused the German, he wasn’t used to be ignored and it both intrigued and annoyed him.

He blew a smoke ring and earned a frown from Crawford, but the other man was staying quiet about it at the moment. Schuldig figured he was picking his battles and giving him a little bit of the freedom they had talked about. Since he wasn’t up to chain-smoking like he had been when his shields went to hell, he figured Crawford was going to allow him his little vice for awhile. Oddly, with the new shields in place his urge for the nicotine hit wasn’t as strong anyway. Not that he was going to abandon one of his vices. Rosenkreuz had taught him that you never gave anything away for free.

He was enjoying fantasies of bargaining…well, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted from Crawford anymore, but it would be something spectacular for him to give up smoking. Maybe the car he wanted? Maybe he could talk Brad into another bubble bath? For the chance to have those strong fingers carding through his hair again it would be worth the loss of not only his cigarettes but coffee as well. Hell, for Brad Crawford washing his hair he might just get down on his knees and thank the other man properly. He was just getting around to imagining giving Brad the best blow job of his straight-laced life when they pulled up to the apartment building.

The first sign of trouble was Nagi meeting them at the door, pale and wide-eyed, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else. “Crawford-san,” began the little telekinetic softly, worried.

“It’s fine, Nagi,” murmured Crawford, laying a hand on Nagi’s shoulder. Schuldig frowned, what was fine? He did a quick probe of Nagi’s mind, easily plucking the memory of the two men and one woman standing in their foyer, wanting to discuss Schwarz’s telepath.

He felt a flutter of panic, that was fine?!? There were Esset techs in their living room and it was fine. He wanted to snarl at his stupidity for trusting Crawford, for thinking that the pre-cog just might be willing to help him. He should have known better. Crawford was Esset - first, last and always. The visions had just been one more trick to get him to behave. He wanted to rage and tear the pre-cog limb from limb but instead he summoned his most obnoxious sneer and tried to pretend that he didn‘t give a damn that he was going to be fucked over yet again. Hell, he should be used to it by now.

“It will be fine, Mastermind,” murmured Crawford, laying a soothing hand on his arm that made the telepath stare at him. Crawford had never done that before. He cast the older man a startled look, confused by the reassurance. Brad wasn’t supposed to be reassuring him when he was going to fuck him over.

The American was moving, drawing him along before he’d even realized that Crawford had used his much hated codename. He bristled even more, ready to launch into a scathing retort when strong hands latched onto his arms and Brad kissed him, quick and hot and hard.

“It will be alright, Schuldig,” growled Brad softly, brown eyes boring into blue.

“Yeah…yeah,“ murmured Schuldig weakly, shivering faintly at the intensity in the other man’s eyes. “Hey brat, go put some coffee on,” ordered Schuldig as they got off the elevator, not quite sure why he was doing so, but Nagi looked spooked and he felt kinda bad for the kid. Nagi was a brat sure, but he was also an abused nine year old. He didn’t need to watch as Schuldig got fucked over.

Nagi nodded and eagerly retreated to the kitchen and for a moment Schuldig wished he could join the little telekinetic…that just once someone had spared him. It wasn’t going to happened though, this time or any other. He followed Crawford into the living room and tried to remember that he wasn’t a scared of these fuckers. He wasn’t scared of anyone.

“Gentlemen,” murmured Crawford with a cool nod to the two men and one woman in their living room. They were all dressed in grey suits, their hair cut to a uniform length and slicked back. They looked like fucking pod people. Lab techs were like that though, especially Esset lab techs. It was freaky and a definite sign of some severe mental problem in Schuldig’s opinion.

“We are here to discuss your last report, Herr Crawford, on the subject of the telepath Schuldig,” intoned one of the techs, the man on the right, which was really the only thing to distinguish him.

“That will not be necessary. Schuldig is performing quite well.” Schuldig felt a tiny jolt of surprise. Crawford wasn’t just handing him over?

“Be that as it may, we would still like to examine the telepath Schuldig,” murmured the woman, as Schuldig decided that he hated her. She reminded him of that up-tight bitch who had taught him English; the one who had smacked him with a ruler every time he’d made a mistake.

He waited for Crawford to nod his agreement, shocked when instead of selling him out Crawford quietly told the techs no again.

“Excuse me?” demanded the man on the left.

“No. I don’t feel an inspection is necessary. Schuldig is performing up to all expectations and I wish to keep him doing so.”

“Perhaps you didn’t understand, Herr Crawford, the request was a formality,” snapped the man on the left with a frown.

“No, I don’t think you understand. This team is under the direct control of the Elders, answerable only to them, and I don’t think they would be pleased if it was unable to perform. The last time you examined one of my team members he was gone for three days and non-functional for four more. And we are still having incidents. Are you aware of the hassle when a telekinetic has incidents?” snapped Brad, annoyance clear in his voice. “The property damage is considerable, I assure you.

“The last time you examined Schuldig he was gone for five days and non-functional for ten days; and Farfarello had to be restrained for a week when you last finished with him. I will not tolerate such interferences with the performance of my team. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with the Elders because I most certainly will be,” finished Brad, the implications of what he was saying, what he was doing, making Schuldig dizzy. Bradley Crawford had just saved him from the techs, had gone to bat for him and protected him.

“Farfarello, please escort our guests out. Schuldig, get some rest and if you could please tell Nagi to bring my coffee to my office,” murmured Brad, heading towards his office and ignoring the protests of the techs. Schuldig felt the amazement slip from his face, an unholy grin taking its place as he saw Farfarello creep out from where he had been hiding in the hallway. As much as he loved watching Farf work he was more startled by this latest turn of events and Brad’s behavior. Blood and death were all well and good, but the mystery Crawford was presenting him with was just too tempting.

The techs clearly decided discretion was the better part of valor and began retreating, which was just stupid. You never ran from a predator and you didn’t get much more predatory than Farf. For just a moment Schuldig thought he caught a demonic smirk on Brad’s lips, but in the next instant it was gone and Farfarello had one of the techs down and was between the other two and the door. “No blood on the carpet, Farfarello. And remember about the coffee, Schuldig,“ called the pre-cog as he continued towards his office.

Schuldig made some vague noise and watched as Farfarello got down to the business of trapping his prey. “You know, in order for them to report you have to let one live,“ he pointed out to the madman, earning a glare. Clearly the anti-psychotics weren’t working. Then again, the Berserker’s body also built up a tolerance to most drugs, rendering them less and less effective.

Schuldig was just about ready to push the issue when Farf let one of the men break and run for it, Schuldig couldn’t tell which since there was no longer left or right to tell them apart with. The tech was bleeding profusely but a good doctor would patch him up in no time. The other two techs were not so lucky and visions of carving were running through Farf’s head. Schuldig forced the ‘no blood on the carpet’ into the madman’s head and retreated into the kitchen. While pain was sometimes fun, newly built shields didn’t need strain. Besides, the kid couldn’t make coffee for shit without help.

“Your doing that wrong,” he told Nagi as he came into the kitchen, earning a glare from the little nine year old. He might not have gotten to drink much coffee but he’d been raised in Europe, he knew how to make it, unlike Nagi who just relied on the directions.

“The directions say,” began Nagi with annoyance.

“Fuck the directions! You’re not doing it right. Watch and learn, brat,” he said, elbowing Nagi out of the way. Nagi was frowning at him but Schuldig could also read the spark of interest. Nagi was like a sponge when it came to learning anything new, he soaked it up.

“They didn’t take you,” murmured the little telekinetic and Schuldig could hear the question in the statement, the hint of fear and wonderment. How do I make them not take me, that was what the kid really wanted to know. Miserable fuckers! He might not have liked Nagi all that much, mostly because this was the longest conversation they’d ever had, but the kid didn’t deserve the shit the techs had put him through. Didn’t deserve to wake up screaming or always be scared that they were going to come for him.

“They don’t take any of us anymore according to the Fearless Leader,” murmured Schuldig as a scream came from the living room. “They try and take you and you rip their fucking heads off, brat. None of us go with those assholes unless Crawford okays it.“ The scream faded to a wet gurgling and Schuldig smirked at the kid. “And only maybe then.”

Nagi looked a little green but nodded. He would get over the squeamishness with exposure, it was the banked hatred and determination that caught Schuldig’s interest. For the first time he thought he saw why Crawford wanted the kid, saw the hint of potential lurking in that tiny body.

“You want some lunch, kid?” he asked, not sure just why he was making the offer but willing to go with it.

Nagi glared suspiciously at him but nodded. “Cool, get Farfie cleaned up while I take Brad-chan his coffee and we’ll go get something,” purred Schuldig, smirking as Nagi frowned at the familiarity toward Crawford. The kid needed to loosen up, but he had potential decided Schuldig as he poured Crawford’s coffee.

He grinned at Farf and the rapidly spreading pool of blood in their foyer. Neither of the two techs he had down were dead but they were heading in that direction. “Better finish them fast if you wanna come to lunch with me and the brat,” he told the Irishman, trying to push all thoughts and possibilities of what he was about to do from his mind.

He opened Crawford’s door without knocking. “Coffee,” he purred, his eyes gleaming with excitement, which he hoped Crawford chalked up to the bloodshed. He brought the cup to the other man and slid between Crawford and the desk, earning a sigh and a glare from the American. “Me and the others are going out for lunch. Want us to bring you back something?” he asked hopping up to sit on the desk, leaning forward to drape his arms around Crawford’s neck. It put him nose to nose with the American and Schuldig wondered if he could get another kiss. Wondered if he wanted one.

“No. Thank you. I have work, Schuldig.”

Schuldig grinned and slid off the desk to straddle Brad’s lap, “Your point?” Brad’s hands gripped his hips and for a moment Schuldig thought the other man might turn him around and fuck him right there.

He chuckled as the American shoved him off, gamely picking himself up from the floor and moving toward the door. “I want my wallet back, Schuldig,” snapped Brad, making the German grin. He tossed the other man his wallet, watching as Brad checked to make sure had hadn’t pocketed any of the credit cards before slipping it back into his pocket.

“I’ll bring your car keys back after lunch,” called Schuldig cheerfully, putting on a burst of speed that carried him halfway down the hall before Crawford had even stared cursing him.
- 6
- 7
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