Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Broken ❯ Somewhere I belong ( Chapter 4 )

Author's note: Before I say anything at all I really have to thank someone who did me a great favour: Thanks a lot to Yanagi-san who was so kind to allow me to use her version of Schu's first name I fell in love with when I read her Rosenkreuz… sweet Rosenkreuz, one of my most favourite Schwarz-stories ever! If you haven't read her story yet, do so, this story really changed my pov about many things of Schwarz' past, it's become kind of my unofficial-official version of what I think they must have gone through back at RK. I love that story!!! She also helped me a lot by checking my story for grammatical stuff, I am really, really thankful to her!!

But let's not forget ko-chan, my best friend, without her constant support and encouragement I would never have finished this!! Thank you!!

Oh yes, to all Schu-fans: I apologize in advance, you'll know what I mean with this once you've read the chapter..

Please let me know what you think about this, I've spent two weeks writing, re-writing and then re-re-writing what I had re-written only moments before, this really was the most difficult thing I've ever written and I really need your thoughts about it, okay?? I've rarely been this nervous about anything I did in the past…

Disclaimer: None of the boys belong to me; they all belong to somebody else! I'll return them as neat and well mannered as I found them..

Btw, italics are for mindspeak and bold letters stand for thoughts.

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Broken

(Somewhere I belong)

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To call him nervous was just as inappropriate as describing Farfarello as a slightly mentally unstable person with an insignificant liking for small kitchen knives.

He wasn't just nervous, his hands were shaking -no, trembling, his hands were trembling the rather annoyed part of his self-respect informed him dryly- his heart was beating a mile a minute and he was positive there was a slight sheen of sweat covering his forehead. This was unacceptable. He was definitely not a nervous person by nature and, even more definitely, not used to having his feelings displayed that openly, for everybody to see. Such a slip could seriously ruin his reputation.

But his treacherous body apparently did not care about his social welfare, every step he took towards the café seemed to take bits and pieces out of his self-control and he did not need his self-conscious mind to tell him he definitely did not look as cool and determined as he wanted to. But he was not powerless; Estet surely had trained him well enough to cope with any kind of different situation. While walking towards the café he concentrated on one of those techniques, reaching for the familiar nothingness inside of him that was reserved for special occasions like this. Before he knew it he was standing directly in front of the café and his not-supposed-to-be-shaking hand opened the door.

The café wasn't very crowded; his first brief survey of his surroundings left him estimating the number of its current occupants at about 17 people, including the two waitresses who were squeezing themselves skilfully through even the narrowest passages of the room. The café was dimly lit and although it had a non-smoking area, the entire room smelled of cigarettes and coffee. Soft music was playing in the background, creating an atmosphere of late evening sociability. It was a comfortable place, exactly one of those spots he would rather avoid if he planned to spend a nice evening. He stopped to scan for his target and noticed distantly that his heart skipped a beat when finally a shock of red hair appeared at the edge of his vision. His head turned into that direction and even from where he was still standing in the entrance door he could make out that something was different.

Schuldig had cut his hair.

It was the first thing he noticed and he fixed his gaze on the familiar form that was sitting at the back of the café, near the emergency exit, with his back turned towards the front door. He hesitated for a moment, then walked towards the table, taking the opportunity to closely study what little he could already see of the telepath. Schuldig's hair was still the bright red colour it had always been, but now it was only long enough to barely touch his shoulders. It looked dishevelled, even a bit unkempt, almost as if he had not paid a lot of attention to it in the last days.

Brad's swift steps carried him towards the table and he stopped then to turn, mentally steeling himself for the moment he would once again see his eyes.

Schuldig was gazing up at him with a quizzical expression, undoubtedly he must have sensed that something wasn't quite right about Brad, but whatever Schwarz's leader had wanted to say got stuck in his throat when he first got a good look at his former lover. Schuldig had always been so comfortable with his surroundings that wherever he had sat down he had been rather sprawling casually than sitting properly, a source for many, usually completely ignored, complaints on his side. It irritated him to no end that right now Schuldig was more or less cowering on his chair, half leaning on the table for support. His posture was tense and attentive, reminding Brad of a deer ready to flight should a wolf come out of the forest. The telepath was wearing a black coat and a black shirt, a distinct contrast to his usual rather colourful taste of clothing and the dark material stood out against his even-paler-than-normal skin. He was toying with a green lighter, slowly turning it over again and again in his hand while he kept his gaze on Brad's face, curiously studying the older man. Strands of fiery hair were falling into his eyes, partly obscuring them from his view, but still showing enough of them for Brad to notice that they seemed different.

Years of practice enabled Brad to hide his curiosity behind a small welcoming smile as he slid down onto the chair opposite of Schuldig, leaning back a bit to once again study him, openly this time. The redhead stared right back at him for a moment, before he slowly averted his eyes, letting his gaze wander across Brad's business suit. An awkward silence spread between them and he found himself searching for an appropriate opening for the conversation. Hundred of different possible sentences came to his mind immediately, ranging from sarcastic comments, curt questions to even harsh accusations, but what he finally said surprised even himself.

"I've found you."

A small smile appeared at the corner of Schuldig's lips, which didn't quite reach his eyes, and then he nodded slowly,

"So you did. How are you, Brad?"

The use of his first name sent an unexpected pang of longing through his body and he couldn't suppress a small intake of breath, fixing his gaze on Schuldig's face and trying to get the other man to look at him. His first name had always been reserved for the private moments between them and here, out in public, it seemed more than just inappropriate.

"I'm fine, Schuldig. What happened?"

He could tell that the telepath didn't like the question, could see that he was already searching for an evasive answer as he had done hundred of times before whenever Brad had caught him messing up something like forgetting to do the dishes or locking up Farfarello for the night. Schuldig was good at that game, like no other person he had ever met, he had a knack for provoking him expertly until Brad thought he would explode. Yet he had never managed to make him lose his self-control. And that was how he intended to react right now as well.

He watched closely as Schuldig finally plastered one of those grins onto his face. "I just took a walk around the block, that's all."

Brad was really proud of himself to keep his wits enough to let out a small sigh, giving the other man one of those I'm-way-too-cool-for-you looks he knew Schuldig hated more than anything. "Why do you want to talk to me, Schuldig?"

The German looked up at him and this time that mocking smile of his did reach his eyes as he snapped somewhat impatiently,

"Because I needed someone to talk to and you're the only one whose phone number I have not yet crossed out of my little black book."

He exploded then. Just like that. In a public outbreak of emotion he had never thought himself capable of he lost it, slamming his hands down flat on the table on either side of him and catching Schuldig's gaze with a furious of his own, snarling threateningly,

"Dammit, Schuldig, don't give me that shit, where have you been?"

He did notice that a few of the other guests were looking over at them, but for once he didn't care about what other people might think about him. He kept his gaze drilling into Schuldig's eyes, intending to get a reaction that would help him clear that situation.

And a reaction he did indeed get. It was immediate. And completely different from what he would have expected. Schuldig's eyes went wide for a moment and his body jerked away from him, as if he had been slapped. Just a second later though the trademark-smirk was back in place and he grinned at him, raising a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes.

"Missed me that much, huh, Bradley?"

It was a poor imitation of his former self and he could see in Schuldig's eyes that both of them realized it the moment the words had been spoken. Acting on his rather crippled empathic instincts Brad found himself changing his tactics, taking the only chance he had left to get the redhead to talk to him. And although he had never ever done something like that, at least not in public, he felt oddly sure and self-confident about it. He watched those emerald eyes grow incredibly huge as he slowly reached out with his right hand and calmly placed it on top of a surprisingly cold hand that was still clinging to the lighter, noting that he almost froze as soon as he touched him. His gaze stayed on Schuldig's face and he waited until the redhead turned a wide-eyed gaze towards him. He kept his voice soft, for once not keeping his emotions out of it as he whispered,

"Yes, I did miss you, Bren…"

Calling him by his first name after all those time felt a little bit out of place, but he could tell that it had been the right thing to say. Schuldig looked at him for a long time, staring right into his eyes, pinning him down with a gaze unlike anything Brad had ever experienced before. He didn't know if the telepath was unconsciously or even deliberately projecting what he was feeling inside right now, but he was able to read the redhead's normally closely guarded eyes like an open book. It seemed as if an invisible wall that had always kept his feelings hidden had been broken down, leaving his most private emotions open for anyone to see.

Brad was more than shocked to find nothing but pain in them, so much anguish he found it hard to breathe for a moment. The sheer force of those emotions almost knocked him backwards, he did not know what to do, what to say, how to react.

What on earth had happened to him?

Brad didn't know how much time he spent just staring into those sad eyes, studying the gaze that would haunt him for the next days. They broke me. He couldn't tell if those words were just an echo of what Schuldig had told him two days ago or if the telepath was sending them straight into his brain right now, but the meaning of those words slowly became dreadfully clear, pushing him roughly towards a conclusion he did not have the heart to draw. Whatever his redhead had wanted to tell him then was why he could barely recognize his once arrogant and carefree lover in this picture of misery that was sitting in front of him. It broke his heart to see him like that. He was at a complete loss of words, he had absolutely no idea what to say now, this was way beyond any of his experiences. And so he was all the more surprised when it was Schuldig who finally found some words to say.

"I've missed you, Brad."

His voice was so small he almost missed it, only the fact that Schuldig's lips were moving, if ever so slightly, told him that he wasn't imagining it. The cold hand he was holding started to tremble slightly and he brushed his thumb across the chilly skin in a gesture meant to soothe. The redhead's gaze followed the movement and lingered there for a moment, giving him another moment to study him. He couldn't remember ever having seen him in a worse condition, even after hours of disciplinary measures at Rosenkreuz, getting yelled at, beaten or even raped in the worst possible way, Schuldig's natural aura of arrogance and stubbornness had always assured him that whatever life would do to him he'd always get out of it intact.

He couldn't deal with him if he acted like this. He didn't know how to comfort people, had never had to do something like that. Whenever a member of Schwarz had had to deal with emotional issues there had always been somebody there to handle things. It had worked that way. Everybody knew and accepted that he was not responsible for Scharz' emotional welfare. To be honest, he had never realized just how dependent he had become on Schuldig's strength; emotional problems concerning Schwarz had always been dealt with once he had come home from his meetings.

Answers. He had come here to get some answers. Giving the redhead another long look over he spoke in a low voice,

"Tell me what happened, Schu. Where have you been?"

Schuldig tensed immediately and made as if to pull his hand away but Brad's reflexes kicked in and he kept a firm but gentle grip on him, leaving him no chance to escape.

"Please, Schu, what did they do to you?"

He tried his best to project an aura of reassurance and security, watching as the telepath cast a nervous glance at him, then fixed it at something next to Brad's head. He took a deep breath and started to say something, but broke off without uttering a single sound, shaking his head slowly,

"I'm not supposed to tell you, Brad, I'm sorry.."

His initial reaction was to give Schuldig another reproachful look to inform him he did not approve of this stubborn, non-communicative behavior. He almost opened his mouth to ask him why he had wanted him to come there in the first place if he did not intend to tell him anything at all. But then Schuldig looked back at him and Brad once again noticed how miserable and lethargic his eyes looked at that moment. He frowned slightly and took in the tired slump of the shoulders, the nervous twitching of one of his legs under the table and the deep, dark rings that adorned Schuldig's eyes. He basically looked as if he was asleep on his feet and it was obvious that he would not get any useful information out of him if he remained in this condition. His brain came up with the logic conclusion to take him some place else where he could get a good night's sleep and recover, a place where he could stay with him to be able to watch his progress.

"Help me, Brad?"

Schuldig did not ask for help. What doubts he might have had until this point were completely irrelevant when he sensed the weariness, the unfamiliar helplessness in the telepath's voice. He instinctively knew then what he had to do. And he would not waste another minute at this table when he really needed to get his redhead some place safe. He squeezed Schuldig's hand once, reassuringly, and whispered softly,

"I will, Schu, trust me…"

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He was a man on a mission. Well, technically speaking he wasn't a man.. yet. It was a dangerous mission, a mission that could easily get him killed in an instant. If he slipped up at this one the best-case scenario would be a small, metallic bullet right between his eyes that would put him out of his misery.

Nagi looked up from his laptop when the car stopped and the man in the driver's seat turned towards him, giving him another one of those critical looks.

"You're sure you've got the money, kiddo?"

Another wave of cigarette smell drifted towards him as the man spoke and he frowned disapprovingly at the no-smoking sign in front of him.

"You will get your payment as soon as we've reached the destination." he answered coldly, putting on his most threatening and yet impassive expression as he fixed the man's gaze for a moment. He knew that his calm behavior tended to really freak people out at times and he'd come to use it more and more frequently when he spent his time with normal people. He had found out that they would become kind of intimidated and would help him as quickly and efficiently as possible to get rid of him. He had come to like that very much actually and he knew it had worked this time as well as the cab driver pointed out of the window at a large building.

"We're already there, that's the place you were talking about."

A quick glance out of the window told him that they were parking in front of a middle class hotel. He nodded at the driver and got some bank notes out of his jacket, handing them over and then getting out of the cab. This was where the GPS-signal had led him, as far as he could tell from his computer software his target had not moved from this point for the last hour and unless he had been discovered he was pretty sure that he would find it somewhere in this building. And if he didn't run out of this strange good luck that had accompanied him all day, he would make it in and out of the building, hopefully in one piece, but with more knowledge about certain things than before.

Taking his laptop under his arm and putting on his most convincing I'm-just-a-sixteen-year-old schoolboy-expression he slowly entered the hotel, scanning his surroundings attentively. As far as he could see this was just an ordinary hotel, with the usual quiet entrance hall. He knew exactly what to do now…

One and a half minute later he was standing in a lift that was slowly making its way up to the fourth floor. It had not been difficult at all, one big-eyed question for a `father' who had forgotten to pick him up on his way back from his business meeting and the receptionist had gladly let him enter the lift, sending him on his way to the most dangerous mission he had ever been on. Putting the bug into Brad's suit had been alarmingly easy, what had confused him though was the fact that their leader had been so ignorant of his surroundings he had not noticed the little technical device. This was so not like Crawford, but on the other hand the older man had not been quite like himself for the whole morning. Add to that the strange flyer on top of his desk with the little footnote. He knew that handwriting. After he had finally stopped shaking with suppressed feelings of equal joy and sorrow he had sworn to himself to discover the meaning behind all of this, even if it meant he would have to confront the one person who might be able to kill him in an instant.

A soft bell sounded and the doors slid open, revealing a long, neat corridor with several doors on each side. He stepped out of the lift and once again opened his laptop to check the flashing cross on the screen that signified his destination's position. He looked down the corridor, fixing his gaze on the door that had number "17" written in silver numbers on its front. If everything had gone according to his plan this was where Crawford, or at least his jacket, had to be. He closed his laptop then and stared at the door, uncertain what to do now.

Somehow it had all seemed so easy when he had come up with this plan at first, but he had never thought about what he would do if he actually managed to succeed. After all, it was Brad Crawford he was trying to outsmart here; of course his leader would notice at once that he was being followed. He suddenly realized that he had not planned what he would do after he found the Oracle. He didn't even know if he was really able to carry out whatever plan his clever brain might come up with. A nervous feeling slowly started to spread throughout his entire body and he swallowed nervously, then took a deep breath and slowly approached the door. His heartbeat quickened with every step he took, though he couldn't tell whether this feeling originated from the fear of what Brad would actually do to him should he be discovered or from whatever he might find behind that door.

Was it really possible?

He didn't hesitate that long, but finally put a hand on the door handle. He was not overly surprised to find the door locked. Without caring for possible consequences -he would not be stopped by a mere door- he used his power to open it, concentrating on moving the tiny bolts inside the lock individually until a soft click sounded. He waited for a moment to see if the soft noise had gone unnoticed or if someone would open the door and confront him with uneasy questions. Nothing happened and he took what was left of his courage and slowly opened the door, cautiously peering inside the hotel room.

The small room was almost completely dark, although the door leading into what he supposed to be the bedroom had been left ajar. Soft light was illuminating the room slightly and he was able to make out the outline of a scarcely yet elegantly decorated living room. He couldn't sense any movement in either room and was about to close the door again to check his laptop, but then his gaze fell upon a familiar jacket that was draped across the back of a chair.

He was inside the room before he knew it and slid the door close behind him, moving as slowly and silently as possible. Thankfully the soft light enabled him to find his way across the room without making any noise and he involuntarily held his breath once he got closer to the door of the bedroom. He felt like a voyeur as he tried to get a glimpse of whoever was inside the room. What he found in there literally took his breath away and he almost dropped his laptop as one of his hands reached up to cover his mouth.

Schu was lying on his side on the bed, his face completely relaxed, as he was apparently sound asleep. He was curled up with his back against the far wall of the room, one of his hands resting next to his head and the rest of him disappeared under two blankets which rose and fell slowly with his even breathing. His hand was covered by a larger one, which slowly and very gently brushed across it every now and then. Nagi's wide-eyed gaze wandered across Crawford's equally relaxed body lying next to the redhead, his head propped up on his hand as he watched the other man sleep. His glasses were next to him on the pillows and his face showed a strange mixture of worry and profound relief and as he watched Brad slowly reached out and brushed back a strand of fiery hair that had fallen across Schu's closed eyes.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there just watching Schuldig sleep, but after a while Brad slowly turned his head towards him, looking directly into his eyes. It was that moment that Nagi's heart stopped and it was exactly that moment he turned his back on the bedroom and started to run, not once looking back.

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Please don't hit me, but I actually like Schu's new hairstyle! -hides under her bed-

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