Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Broken ❯ Lying from you ( Chapter 8 )

 

Broken

 

(Lying from you)

 

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LIMBUS file No. CANTO 8/10 01 - 09 180

 

Date: 07/26

Supervisor: Dante (Japan)

 

After treating both subject's injuries (see LIMBUS files No. 09 180 337 and No. 09 180 339) the council has finally decided to release them from heavy sedation. Subjects have been placed into cell No. 13c for further observation with as little outside-stimulus as possible to avoid falsifying their reactions.

 

Record:

13 : 57 :16 subject 337 shows first signs of awareness

 

 

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Consciousness returned slowly, very slowly. He immediately knew that he didn't want to wake up. He didn't know why, he didn't know what had happened to him to make him black out in the first place, but then again something that caused you to lose consciousness couldn't be that nice at all, could it? It usually meant pain, at least for him, as far as he could remember from his past. And he didn't like pain, not one bit -who did anyway- because pain inevitably meant that he had either done something wrong or had completely failed.

 

He had often thought about the nature of pain, pros and cons, only to find that there was only one argument against pain and that was, of course, the most obvious: He didn't like pain because it fucking hurt. He knew he was babbling right now, desperately clinging to everything that would keep him from coming round. He still had no idea what had happened, but his instincts told him that something was wrong, seriously wrong.

 

He tried shying away from reality in earnest now, tried to turn back to the blissful silence that had enveloped his mind a moment ago, but all too soon the familiar feeling of pain invaded his mind, came to the surface, forcing him to give up fighting. It was no use anyway, his brain and body had apparently already decided to wake up and, as usual, he was powerless to prevent it…

 

The pounding in his head grew louder and more painful with every heartbeat and he could already feel his body reporting to him where he was hurting. Sore muscles protested against any movement and although he mentally begged his limbs to stop moving they seemed to have a mind of their own which disobeyed his orders. All too soon he could feel something starting to cramp up on him. He wasn't quite sure which part of his body was so keen on causing him pain, at the moment he couldn't even tell if he was lying on his back or standing up, everything about his senses seemed dulled and somehow scrambled up. Groaning inwardly and just ignoring the pain he concentrated on waking up and tried cautiously to become aware of his surroundings.

 

The first thing he noticed was the fact that he wasn't alone, wherever he was there was somebody with him. Scrambled as everything around him was he could definitively sense a presence near him, though if it was familiar or not he couldn't tell yet. If he hadn't felt so tired he would have tried to force his equally tired memory to tell him what had happened. It would help him a lot because then he'd know if it was more likely to receive a kiss or a kick upon awakening. But, keeping in mind his usual luck of getting himself in the worst possible situations he wouldn't be surprised in the least to find himself at the business end of a gun.

 

Well, it was no use, he would have to open his eyes anyway, so he could as well skip the waiting and surprise whoever was with him.

 

It took him a long moment to force his eyes open and, of course, he immediately regretted it as bright, very unfriendly light assaulted him at once, wringing a tired groan from his sore throat. Speaking seemed to be out of the question. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached up to cover them with his hands, relief flooding his veins for a moment when he found he was actually able to move. He wasn't restrained or tied to anything. It was his first, if small clue that he could have been lucky and was probably just suffering from a bad hangover and not from having been taken hostage by somebody. He stayed like this for a long moment, his hands covering his eyes to shield them from the bright light he could see even through his closed eyelids.

 

When no kicks at his body followed he gathered his wits enough to actively alert the other to his presence, croaking out hoarsely, “Crawford, that you?”

 

He didn't know why, but he had never before in his entire life hoped that desperately that Crawford would be with him, for no apparent reason his entire being begged anybody responsible for this situation that the precog would be there once he had managed to open his eyes. He didn't dare to breathe for a long moment as he listened into the darkness, willing his lover to answer him.

 

He didn't get an answer and the uneasiness inside him grew, creeping up his stomach, making it ache, then slowly crawling up his throat… It almost felt as if he was suffocating and he tried desperately to suck in a breath through his clenched throat, a terrible feeling of foreboding starting to cut off his air supply. Something was horribly wrong and he flinched violently when he suddenly knew with cruel clarity that whoever was with him was not somebody he knew.

 

His heart, which had at some point started beating at least a mile a minute, stopped for a moment and he coughed, wheezing a great amount of air into his lungs. He had to know. He slowly but deliberately removed his hands from his eyes and when the throbbing in his head had receded a little he slowly opened his eyes again, inch by inch, trying to ignore the stabs of pain that lanced like fire through his head, severely searing his nerve-endings, his head screaming at him to close his eyes again because it HURT.

 

At first he could not make out anything at all, everything was white and bright and painful. He groaned miserably and took a shuddering breath, barely missing the tears that were leaking down across his cheeks as his eyes didn't stop to water. He tried blinking a few times to get them out of his eyes and to get his more than just blurry vision under control. It worked, but it took him what he was sure to be half of the rest of his life until he was finally able to see something.

 

Which wasn't much. All he could make out was a white ceiling with a row of bright lights. He just stared straight ahead for a time, trying to find a pattern in the perfect white ceiling, something by which he would be able to recognize it, but there was nothing, it was just an ordinary white ceiling with blinding bright lights.

 

It once again took him a long moment to come up with the idea of moving his head to look around him and even longer to summon enough strength to do it. He already knew what his head would think about it and he wasn't disappointed: As soon as he started to move his head the whole world swam out of the little focus he had been able to achieve and he was rewarded with another sharp pain right between his eyes. He didn't notice that he gave another hoarse groan at that, but what he could finally make out was the blurry, dark shape that came into his line of sight, a shape that was moving slightly every now and then.

 

Tiredly he watched it move and after a few moments his vision gradually became clearer until he was finally able to recognize the shape as a human body that was curled up on his side, its back to him, obviously waking up. He blinked a few times and was about to croak something when the person suddenly turned, rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It was then that the red hair that stood out so clearly against the black shirt the figure was wearing finally registered in his brain.

 

And then his fuzzy world suddenly came to a screeching halt and all breath left his lungs as his memories kicked in again, invading his mind, flooding his mind's eye with a rapidly changing series of images: Himself getting ready to fight against THEM - Nagi using his power to fight against the Weiss assassin - Crawford giving orders as to what to do should they be disturbed - the ever growing pressure on his mind as he fought desperately to get THEM out of his head - Brad telling him to be careful - the wire shooting out at him - Brad's panicked gaze when the ground suddenly started shaking - a sharp pain at the back of his head which had split his skull - nothing -

 

Still caught in the vivid memory he shot upright, giving a panicked shout as he did and bringing up his hands over his head to protect himself from the falling debris. A vicious pull at the back of his head left him arching his back in pain a moment later and he whimpered breathlessly, folding in on himself to try and shut out the pain, get away from it as far as possible.

 

And surprisingly it worked. After he had spent God-knew-how-much-time just breathing through the pain it finally receded, backed up like a playful animal, circling him continuously now, but leaving him alone for the moment. He took a deep breath and slowly and very carefully raised his head, blinking against the bright light.

 

Staring right into the wide eyes of Ran Fujimiya.

 

They both didn't move for a long time, just sat there, staring at each other, taking in the other's appearance. Ran was wearing a dark shirt and equally dark pants which both had something written on them in white letters. A white bandage was covering his forehead and he was cradling his left arm, which had been put in a cast that disappeared beneath his sleeve, against his chest. His hair was sticking out at odd places and he was wearing the same confused expression on his face Schuldig was pretty sure his own face was showing as well.

 

Behind the other man he could see shockingly familiar white, padded walls. Rosenkreuz? He couldn't move, he found himself locked in place by the intense stare of Abyssinian, who was neither moving nor releasing the spell he seemed to have put on him. Schuldig could read his thoughts in his eyes then, without having to read his mind, he could follow how the other's confusion slowly changed into realization - recognition - pain - anger - hate…

 

“You…”

 

Abyssinian's voice slowly cut through the haze of his confused mind and he involuntarily pulled back, finally breaking eye contact, reaching out behind him to slowly inch away, casting a nervous glance across their surroundings, finally taking it in.

 

They were in a room that had completely white walls, the white ceiling he had seen earlier and an equally white floor that was kind of soft. A short look down his own body told him he was wearing the same outfit as Abyssinian did, a dark shirt and dark pants which both had a white imprint on them.

 

His eyes went wide when long-forgotten memories pushed themselves back into his mind, memories that made him gasp as phantom-pains suddenly assaulted his body. Lingering until he found the strength to push them back, securing them behind a mental door which he shut tightly then, his body trembling at the effort it took him to wrestle his fear down and not give in to the panic attack he could already feel approaching… This was not Rosenkreuz, he was not back in Germany where he had suffered so much those many years ago. Rosenkreuz felt different, darker, crueller, more terrifying …

 

He started badly when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes and stared up at Abyssinian who was using the wall for support as he slowly got up on his feet. He could tell from the way the other man moved and held his body that he was in pain, that it was sheer determination that enabled him to get up. But apparently he was ignoring the pain and finally stood, still hanging on to the wall for support, once again fixing him with a furious, sparkling gaze.

 

“Is this another one of your games, Schulderich?”

 

Although he had become quite used to people mispronouncing his name over the past years he had spent in Japan it still made him wince. He watched as Abyssinian let his gaze wander across the walls until it came back to him, glaring into his eyes, obviously waiting for an answer. He blinked a few times, casting a quick glance around the room before he cleared his throat and croaked, his voice sounding more cocky than he actually felt, “If this was a game, do you really think I would be looking like this? And it's Schuldig, by the way, with a “ch”-sound…”

 

Abyssinian growled angrily at him and took another look around, then asked darkly, “Where is the door?”

 

The question sounded so absurd that he actually gaped at him for a moment before he croaked back, “Look, I don't know what happened so don't look at me like that. And if you're not awake enough to find the door to get out of here…”

 

He stopped in mid-sentence and froze for a moment. As he had been speaking he had turned a bit to behind his back, where he supposed the door would be, but as he looked closer he found that he couldn't see anything but a white wall. He blinked rapidly a few times and scanned the room, but try as he might he couldn't find a door anywhere.

 

He shook his head slightly and looked back at the Weiss member who was now leaning against a wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest as good as the cast would allow him, glaring down daggers at him. “What is this all about?”

 

Abyssinian really seemed to think he was actually in charge of what was going on and he frowned, completely confused, slowly inching further away from the assassin to lean against the wall. His head hurt like hell, his vision was still swimming in and out of focus and he was absolutely not in the mood to discuss their present condition with an annoyed Weiss assassin who clearly didn't believe a word he was saying. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking a deep breath.

 

“I don't know.” His voice still wasn't cooperating and it was more a whisper than the irritated growl he had been aiming for. He could hear Abyssinian move at this words, could hear the soft rustle of his clothes but as the sound didn't approach him he just kept his eyes closed, keeping reality out of his sight as he tried to sort out the confusing, different information he had been able to gather so far.

 

First, he felt worse than ever before.

 

Second, he was locked up with a very pissed off Abyssinian in a room with no doors.

 

Third, the whole world had come crushing down on him and he was completely and absolutely fucked.

 

Desperate times required desperate measures. Although he should know better, had been trained not to use his power when his head was hurting this bad, he concentrated on his talent, casting out his senses into the darkness, giving a tentative call across the Schwarz-bond, trying not to let that much of his panic and confusion show.

 

It took him a long, long moment to understand that the bond was no longer there.

 

He gasped in shock and his eyes flew open, gazing around the room with nothing but panic in his eyes as he once again cast out his senses, searching… calling… screaming…

 

He wasn't aware that he had stopped breathing at one point, his body trembling badly as he tried to suck in enough air. One moment he was freezing, the next moment he was burning up and he distantly realized that he was most likely going into shock.

 

Although he couldn't feel a thing he moaned miserably and only a flash of red he could barely make out at the edge of his vision pulled him back from another panic attack. His self-preservation was yelling at him time and again that it was not a good idea to lose his wits while one of his arch enemies was nearby, surely ready to kill him if he let his guard down.

 

Abyssinian was watching him curiously, without moving a muscle, still leaning against the wall and as he found that he had his attention again he raised an eyebrow. “What was that all about?”

 

Schuldig numbly stared at the assassin, frowning slightly, then closed his eyes briefly as Crawford's voice ghosted through his mind, “Don't let your enemy see your weakness, Schu… you're strong.” He winced at the voice and took a shuddering breath, unaware that his face was almost as white as the walls around him. “Nothing, none of your business, Weiss...” He tried to keep his voice as even as possible and was almost proud of himself when it didn't break and he stared defiantly at the other man.

 

Abyssinian squared his shoulders and fixed his gaze on him, the hatred in his eyes apparent and still easy to read. Schuldig took another deep breath and tried to get his feelings and mind back to the present, gazing up at Fujimiya as he once again growled, “How do I get out of here?”

 

“I don't know why you keep asking me this, I don't know where we are!!” His voice was rising slightly and despite the hammering pain in his skull he didn't back down from the angry amethyst eyes.

 

Apparently Abyssinian didn't want to listen to him, he pushed himself off the wall and Schuldig could tell that he was unconsciously assuming a fighting stance as he growled threateningly, “Don't give me this shit, Schwarz, I know this is just one of your games… Where is my sister? Where is the rest of my team?”

 

Despite the cast on his arm and the bandage across his forehead and his slightly awkward posture he still looked as deadly as ever, especially when he started to slowly advance on him, fixing his cold gaze on him. “What have you done to them?”

 

His first instinct was to shrink back, but his pride, even if partly damaged, revolted then and he slowly got to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as his vision became blurry for a moment. Then he was back again and he glared at the other redhead, slowly getting ready to defend himself if necessary.

 

“God, Weiss, do you ever listen? I don't know where we are, I don't know where everybody is, I didn't do anything to anybody, so fuck off!”

 

He took a few steps away from Fujimiya and distantly noticed that his left ankle was kind of stiff, forcing him to hobble a bit and he tried not to let his confusion show. His head was starting to pound again, first signs of a major migraine. Abyssinian was clearly not in the mood to listen to him at this point, following his steps easily, slowly getting closer.

 

“You're lying Schwarz, this is just like any other games you've been playing on us… It's all about games for you, isn't it? You don't care about other people. You took her away from me, you killed my parents, you lured us into this god damned museum, you wanted to kill her, WHERE IS MY SISTER?”

 

Fujimiya was shouting now, getting closer with every step and Schuldig watched him attentively, wishing desperately for his gun to defend himself. Using his power was out of the question, he knew from painful experience that he would not be able to project one single thought with his mind as scrambled as it was now. But Abyssinian didn't know that, he could always try to bluff his way out of this. He was good at that. He grinned as he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest, unconsciously imitating the other's posture from before.

 

“If I were you I would try to get my feelings under control, Abyssinian, screaming at me will get you nowhere, believe me!”

 

This time he was proud of himself to sound really menacing and a small feeling of victory briefly raced through his mind as he saw Abyssinian falter slightly in his steps, stopping for a moment. Violet eyes burned themselves into his own the next second.

 

“I knew it, this is all your work. What have you done to them? Where is my team, where are the others?” Abyssinian had stopped his advance on him and remained standing where he was, but the sheer force of the emotions he was projecting at him at the moment were almost palpable for him, even with his power almost gone. It was starting to creep up on him again, the feeling of being cornered and, most of all his life being threatened by one very irritated and undoubtedly very deadly assassin.

 

“I am not responsible for anything, Weiss, I don't know why this simple fact keeps escaping your pretty little mind, but I am more or less in exactly the same position as you are. Although I do think I have a few advantages over you, don't you think?”

 

He was stalling for time and he knew it. Time to think about this situation, to eventually find a way out.

 

Unfortunately the man opposite of him didn't react too well to his mocking words, the fire in his eyes seemed to go up a notch and his body tensed even more, then he took another few steps towards him before he managed to keep his anger down and stopped, glaring even more dangerously at him. “Don't play your stupid games with me, let me leave!”

 

God, how dense could you be? Apparently there seemed to be no limit to the man's stubbornness and somehow he had the feeling that this discussion would get them absolutely nowhere.

 

“Stop it, Aya, okay? Lean back, take a deep breath and let me think for a moment—What?”

 

A few moments ago Abyssinian had looked pissed off, positively murderous, but that apparently had been nothing compared to the mindless rage and anger he could now see burning in that cold stare.

 

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.” His voice was virtually non-existent, beneath the loathing and hatred that formed the words without having to use any of the air an ordinary human used to voice his words, nothing of Abyssinian's dark voice could be heard. Schuldig blinked, completely and utterly confused, cocking his head to the side, not getting it.

 

“But that's your name, isn't it? Aya Fuji—ups, right, that was your sister… And now that she's waking up you wouldn't use her name anym—“

 

He never saw it coming, one moment Abyssinian was literally killing him using just his gaze, which he must have missed somehow as it was the way the other man was usually looking at him, the next moment he was only a couple of inches away, slamming him backwards against the wall behind him. It was a padded wall, all right, but the assassin had barrelled into him with the force of a freight train, banging his head back with enough strength to knock his breath away. Dimly he could make out a few hissed words.

 

“I'll kill you for this.”

 

Then something very hard connected with his jaw, once again snapping his head into the wall and he almost sighed in relief when everything around him became fuzzy and blurred and the pain didn't seem to be just as piercing as before…

 

 

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Schuldig gave a hoarse moan as Ran's fist connected with the side of his head and sent said head back against the wall with a satisfying thud. The green eyes rolled back and the body went slack, toppling forward, right into his arms. His body reacted before his mind had any chance to protest and he caught the limp body reflexively, then let it go abruptly, watching with a hateful sneer how the redhead crumpled bonelessly to the ground. He didn't get up; apparently he had knocked him unconscious.

 

It felt so good to hit that bloody bastard. He had reacted before he could think. One look at the still man and his rage once again threatened to grab his self-control and run away with it, sending him into a mindless killing spree. How did he dare? How did he dare speak her name in front of him, make fun of her, use her name for one of his sick jokes? Right now he was longing for his katana, not that he needed it to take care of this filthy piece of human trash, but it would at least make it all the more worthwhile. His rage continued to burn inside of him, he could feel it warming him from the inside. Finally, finally, after all those time since his parent's house had been blown up he started to feel, really feel his body again. Everything was tingling, feeling as if every part of his body was coming alive again at the same time.

 

He took a step back from the still form and growled low in his throat, then hit the wall with a frustrated shout, almost, ALMOST drawing his foot back to kick the hell out of the unmoving man in front of him. He wanted so desperately to hurt him, he was practically sick with the need to inflict as much damage as he could on him. He needed to do something, ANYTHING to get this out. He had dreamed of this so long, had longed to get the chance to have his revenge on the people who had so violently and mercilessly messed up with his life, ruined all the plans he had once had for his life.

 

But not like that. He wanted his enemy standing on his own feet, defending himself so he could pour all his anger and hate into his attacks and beat the shit out of him, watching how he would finally discover that all his manipulation and powers wouldn't help him at all, that he was powerless to prevent the inevitable. And then he would really attack him, using all his skills to hurt him, to make him scream his voice hoarse, would tear him apart, armed only with his katana and a sense of vengeance that would make even Schwarz' Berserker look harmless.

 

Still, that damned telepath didn't move, just lay there, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Fine, he would wait then. Perhaps find a way out of this strange room or at least get a clue as to where he actually was.

 

He sneered down at the motionless man, almost checking if he was just playing unconscious, but as far as he could see he really seemed to be out of it. Didn't matter that much anyway. He took a few steps away from him then, straightening his back and taking a deep breath. His body was still tingling all over, making his hair stand up at the base of his neck and he shivered involuntarily, then took a look around. The walls hadn't changed, he seemed to be still locked into a cell with no door. A completely white cell. Together with that worthless, stinking piece of—No, he wasn't going there, he had to concentrate. Apparently he had been caught by somebody. He didn't know by whom but the identity of his fellow “prisoner” seemed to imply that it couldn't be them, neither Schwarz nor Estet. Unless his first suspicion was true and they had put THAT in there with him to infiltrate and spy on him. In which case he should probably come back to his original plan and beat the shit out of it -and he was using the neutral pronoun deliberately- as a thorough precaution against being spied on.

 

Feeling a bit relieved that now he even had a legitimate and logical reason to kill (or at least torture) Schuldig if the need arose -and he would make pretty damned sure that it would- he allowed himself to sit down at the opposite wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest and focusing his eyes on the other redhead, ready to attack should he wake up. But he didn't and he spent a few moments just breathing in and out deeply to try and collect his still somewhat fuzzy wits, allowing himself to gradually get off that adrenaline rush he had been on since he had opened his eyes.

 

The last thing he remembered were scrambled, he dimly remembered that there had been a fight, he knew that Schwarz had been involved, whenever he closed his eyes he could see the light flashing off of Brad Crawford's glasses and, although he didn't feel anything at all, he knew he had been loosing against him, the guy had always been out of his sword's range whenever he had just decided where to hit. And then the ground had crumbled and something hard had hit his shoulder. He had briefly caught Ken's gaze from where the brunette had blinked about him dozily, blood covering one half of his face and he was down on the floor right next to where that white-haired man had beaten Omi into a bloody heap. He had turned then, turned his back on Crawford to help them, but then something had knocked him over, off his feet and then back into something soft…

 

And he still couldn't figure out just what had happened to him after that, his head was aching quite badly actually, although he could always ignore that whenever that redhead would wake up. Taking stock of his body he came up with a small list of injuries: His arm seemed to be broken and he was really happy it wasn't his sword-arm, he surely wouldn't be able to use his arm for a long time. He missed his sword dearly, he felt naked, exposed and a little nervous, though he knew he could always count on his other assassin skills to get him out of situations like this. And above all other things there still was this strange tingling that was still ghosting across his skin and his head, confusing him and even distracting him for a while.

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly; he took the first look around the cell. It had white walls, a white floor, a white ceiling. The walls and the floor seemed to be padded with something soft and there was nothing but himself and… well, the other thing. No bed, no blankets, no bunk, nothing. He had woken up lying on his back on this damned floor, wearing unfamiliar clothes and a cast on his throbbing left arm.

 

That was it.

 

Rubbing his temples slightly to get rid of the by now rather annoying sensation he closed his eyes briefly, thinking back to the previous events again. Aya appeared in front of his minds eye almost instantly, smiling at him as she always did, and he felt his lips curve into a wistful smile. Manx had gotten her out of there. He knew it. It had to be, she had already been out of there when the museum had started to shudder. Manx was a pro, she knew what she had to do. Aya was safe, because they had rescued her. Because she was strong and had survived even this horrible ritual. Because she was his sister and had already survived one house come crushing down on her.

 

She had to be alive…

 

… because he just couldn't go on living his life if everything he had fought for in the last few years had been in vain.

 

She had to be okay, Aya was a fighter, both of them were, and he would go on… again… as always…

 

He really did miss his sword right now.

 

His thoughts flashed back to his last memories and he cringed inwardly, cursing the fact that he didn't know where the others were. From what little he could remember it had not looked good for them. Ken had been in a pretty bad shape and Omi had not been moving at all, not even when that foot had come crashing down on him. He couldn't remember seeing Yoji somewhere and this feeling of ignorance slowly but surely started to creep up his back, seizing his heart in a cold deadlock. They had been there because of him, because they had wanted to help him save his sister. He had asked for their assistance and although he had to admit he had not always treated them like friends they had come with him to save her.

 

They had to be okay, they had to be alive so he could get to them and thank them for what they had done for him. They probably didn't know how much it had meant to him that they had volunteered to help him and he had to tell them, they had to know. The longer he sat there thinking about his team, the more nervous he got. They were not with him, where the hell were they? If somebody had really caught him and this was not the strangest hospital he had ever heard of, then they should be with him right now.

 

He felt great pride for them because they had followed him, although they had already known back then that they would most likely be running into a trap with open eyes. They had endangered (and possibly lost) their lives just to help Aya and he didn't know how he could ever repay that. He could think of absolutely nothing that would express even in the smallest bit how much their faithfulness meant to him. But he would tell them, let them know how much they had helped him. If this fight had saved his sister from being sacrificed to some hideous being and its cult then all this had been worth this and he would tell them.

 

As soon as he had found them. He just needed to find a way out of here.

 

His gaze slowly slid over to the crumpled form opposite of him and he grinned darkly to himself. He was pretty sure he would soon walk out of here…

 

As if on clue he heard a faint moan from somewhere in front of him and he watched how the telepath slowly came to life again. His punch had apparently been hard enough to daze his victim, the other man was moving his limbs slowly and seemed to have no proper recollection of how he was supposed to move his body. All he seemed to be able to do after some time was to roll onto his side, facing him, showing him a cheek which already sported a nice bruising across the pale skin. The eyes slowly slid open, then blinked rapidly for a few times, one hand reaching up shakily to protect them from the light. Another weak groan drifted through the small room and his smile widened slightly. Schuldig was apparently in a lot of pain.

 

He just watched as the other redhead continued to stare at him for a long moment, apparently still too far-gone to realize what was happening. And Ran made very sure that when Schuldig finally seemed to realize just who he was looking at all the other man could see was a dark scowl on his face. He watched with satisfaction how the other cringed away from him slightly, slowly pushing his body back against the wall. Ran didn't know the German telepath well enough -and was quite happy about this fact actually- but he knew that the other man was feeling rather frightened and lost at the moment, those feelings were practically written down across his features, were so apparent that he could almost feel them himself, if not actually taste them.

 

He wondered for a moment if Schuldig was actually aware that he was doing a rather well “deer-caught-in-headlights”-imitation, but then a small shaky voice sounded.

 

“Whatever you do, don't hit me. It hurts…”

 

Frowning at the absurdity of those words -of course it hurt, that was why he had hit that moron in the first place- he slowly got to his feet, glaring down at the other man, relishing a bit in how the other started and tried to move back further against the wall, but was unable to get away from him. Although the voice had been miserable and frightened, the eyes that were glaring up at him held none of those weaknesses, they were peering up at him rather coldly, though nonetheless tracking each and every of his movements.

 

“If you tell me what I want to know I won't hurt you… now…” he added after a moment, growling down at him. The strange eyes looked up at him questioningly and he slowly took a step towards him.

 

“No…” The voice was still amazingly small and very soft and the redhead tensed, slowly raising his upper body on shaking arms, still staring up at him. “I don't know more than you do…” he croaked out then and slowly sat up, eyeing him warily. Ran could tell that he seemed to have problems focusing as he blinked a few times, then leaned back against the wall behind him. He decided he didn't like the answer and took another step forward, trying to look both impressing and threatening. It worked surprisingly well, the fear seemed to spike up a notch and the eyes widened.

 

“Please don't…”

 

The pleading words didn't quite match Schuldig's angry eyes, but he didn't feel sympathetic in the least, merely growled low in his throat as he took another step towards him. “What is happening here, Schuldig?”

 

Apparently the redhead felt dwarfed by him because he pressed his back tightly against the wall and used the leverage to get to his wobbly feet, swaying slightly and still clinging to the wall. “Fuck off, Fujimiya.”

 

What little voice he had been able to muster for this threat was wavering dangerously, laced with the strain he was obviously under just standing up, betraying the furious fire his eyes were blazing at him.

 

“Just tell me what I want to know!”

 

Now it were only a few more steps that were separating them and Schuldig's fear was slowly becoming palpable, the uncertainty around him was almost pouring off of him in waves now, his distress stopped Ran for a moment and he cocked his head slightly, openly studying the other man for a few moments.

 

“Fuck you, Crawford, where the hell are you, get me out of here…”

 

A funny thing happened then. He had growled instinctively when he had heard the name of the Oracle and was about to take another threatening step towards Schuldig, already reaching out to grab the other's sweater when he somehow became aware of something curious and stopped in mid-motion, eyeing the other suspiciously.

 

Schuldig's lips hadn't moved.

 

He was about to say something, but Schuldig beat him to it, taking a wobbly step backwards as he hissed angrily, “Keep your hands off me, Fujimiya, dammit!”

 

He shook his head slightly, a little confused, this time he had seen his lips move all too clearly, could still see the angry sneer the other was directing at him. What—

 

“Look, Fujimiya, I've told you already that I don't know what is happening here. Why don't you just leave me alone and let me think for a moment? Brad, anytime now would be really nice…”

 

There it was again. He had definitely seen his lips moving at first, but after the question they had not moved at all. And his voice had been different as well, first it had been strained and scratchy, full of contempt, but the last sentence had not carried any angry note at all, it had been a rather small, frightened, though somewhat impatient version of Schuldig's voice which didn't match his furious gaze at all.

 

“Stop that, whatever you're doing!!” Once again he had acted without thinking and was almost on top of the redhead even before he knew what he was doing. He dimly noted that the other man attempted to move out of his way to avoid being caught by his collar in a merciless grip, but he was way too slow. He held onto it, pulling the other man towards him, snarling once again, “Stop it, NOW!”

 

“Let go of me you fuck! Don't hit me.”

 

A wave of panic suddenly sliced through his mind then and he almost jumped backwards in surprise, releasing his grip on the other almost instantly. The panic receded a little and he simply stared at Schuldig who, in turn, was watching him with an irritated frown, but then thought better of it and took another step back, getting as much space between them as possible.

 

“Somebody get me out of here, please…”

 

Those confusing signals Schuldig kept sending him slowly but surely made him nervous and he seriously debated hitting him again just to shut him up. What game was he playing? “Shut up, Schwarz.”

 

It worked for a moment, the other stared at him, keeping his mouth shut. But there was something else now, the tingling sensation that had been bothering him the whole time intensified for a moment, startling and irritating him badly. Just a moment later a wave of unfamiliar sensations hit him, knocking him back until he felt his back hit something solid. Different tastes rushed over his mind, stunning him. One moment he felt afraid and utterly confused, the next he was his usual cool self again and felt nothing but annoyance about the whole situation. Then his head hurt like it had never hurt before and he groaned miserably, wishing for all he was worth that Brad would be there to get him out. And then he would beat the Schwarz leader until he couldn't move and Weiss would kick their asses no matter how hard they fought. He just needed to get into contact with Siberian and Nagi to regroup and find out what the hell was happening here. God, his head hurt and that furious redhead in front of him scared the shit out of him because right now he couldn't use his powers and where the hell were the others anyway?

 

Ran suddenly felt as if he was drowning, both in thoughts and feelings he knew couldn't be his own. He recognized part of what he was feeling and thinking as coming from himself, but the other half was alien, didn't belong to him. He couldn't stop it, much less control it, the voice stomped through his head, leaving behind a feeling of being violated, of being at somebody's mercy. At some point he couldn't differentiate between his own feelings and the others, but only a second later he knew exactly what was coming from him and then the voice was back again, whining about something that was of no importance to him. He didn't know what to do, how to stop that, everything was turning upside down, the floor became the ceiling, hot became cold, feelings became sharp objects that were thrown at his mind and somehow his thoughts tasted like honey…

 

“Breathe, Fujimiya, come ON!!!”

 

A sharp stinging flashed across his cheek, shortly followed by another hit and he brought his hand up, lashing out at whatever was causing him this pain and felt his fist connect with something soft, then heard a dull thud, followed by a soft groan. “Fuck you…”

 

He forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly against the bright light above him. Funny, he thought that he had been standing, but right now he seemed to be lying flat on his back and his head was pounding furiously. Movement to his right triggered his instincts and he snapped his head up, fixing his blurry gaze on the dark shape resting next to him. Schuldig was watching him with wide, angry eyes, nursing his left cheek, looking almost as dazed as Ran was feeling. “What's wrong with you, Weiss?”

 

He frowned and tried to get upright, lying back down when the whole room suddenly tilted sideways. What happened?

 

“I don't know, you just passed out and stopped breathing. And when I tried to help you, you just had to hit me again, didn't you? Don't think I'll help you again…” Once again Schuldig crawled backwards a bit, getting well out of his range and eyed him curiously from that distance. “Penny for your thoughts…” he grumbled softly, grinning to himself as if he had just made a very funny joke.

 

Ran was more and more wishing they -whoever they might be— had rather locked him in with that American psycho or any other member of Schwarz, no way he was going to survive this when that lunatic stayed near him for another few minutes.

 

“Well, excuse me, but I don't think Farf would have helped you at all, you'd probably would have woken up with one of his knives stuck in your throat—“ At that point the redhead stopped, froze, his whole body rigid, motionless. God, he was becoming more and more frustrated with that moron.

 

“What is it now, Schuldig?”

 

He didn't get an answer, Schuldig didn't seem capable of anything but staring wide-eyed at him right now, his gaze resting somewhere on his face. Could this situation really get any worse? He was about to convince his body that the world would not again betray him and get out of focus should he try to sit up when he heard a nervous, tentative voice.

 

“Can you hear me, Fujimiya?”

 

Baka.

 

“Of course I can hear you, Schuldig, stop that crap.” How the hell did his team members get along with him? Did they keep a constant gag on him?

 

He didn't get an answer, the other man kept silent. He did sit up then, taking a deep breath to clear his head and he had been right, the world apparently did like him, it didn't tilt or move otherwise. A quick glance to his right confirmed that Schuldig had not moved and was still clinging to the wall behind him. And still staring at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Which he found rather distracting. “Stop staring like that.”

 

Schuldig blinked, twice, then spoke softly. “You should not have been able to hear that, you know?” His face was showing a rather funny expression of both fascination and alarm and Ran frowned, then sighed impatiently. He was definitely trying to make him see red, he was absolutely sure now that the other must have a death wish or something similar.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Schuldig blinked again, then shook his head slowly, his wide gaze fixed unwaveringly on his face. “No, Fujimiya, I don't have a death wish and they don't keep that gag on me… that is, not all of the time…”

 

The last words were supposed to be a joke, he could tell that from the lopsided grin Schuldig was giving him. What the hell was he talking about?

 

“I'm talking about that you should NOT be able to read my goddamned THOUGHTS, Fujimiya!! What the FUCK is going on here?!?” Schuldig was yelling by now, trying to sound both intimidating and pissed off. But while he was clearly succeeding in the second part, Ran somehow knew that he was freaked out more than anything and only a few steps away from going berserk.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“How did you do that, Fujimiya?? How did you get into my head??!”

 

The panic was back then, strangling him almost instantly and he gasped, or tried to, clawing at his throat reflexively. “Wha—“ he panted, trying to get enough air into his protesting lungs.

 

“Dammit, keep breathing, Fujimiya!!” Something red appeared in his line of sight and the stinging was back, his head was whipped to the other side with the force of the slap. His vision cleared slightly then, a white wall appeared before his eyes and he was able to draw a shallow breath. “What is that??!” he wheezed breathlessly.

 

“Listen to me, Fujimiya, whatever you do, just keep breathing. Consider this a friendly advice, okay?” Schuldig's voice was cold, colder than usual, and he was glaring at him as if he had just killed each and every of his little Schwarz buddies.

 

“Get your hands off me, Schwarz…” he growled, then broke off when his voice didn't cooperate like he was used to.

 

Schuldig stayed where he was, dangerously close to him, inside his personal space, eyeing him closely. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when a soft, metallic click sounded somewhere in the room, drawing their attention from each other.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

 

The voice came out of nowhere, or that was what it seemed like in the first moment, but then Ran realized that it was coming from the walls all around them. They had to be using speakers…

 

“Who is there?” He took a step away from Schuldig, scanning the room. The other redhead was looking towards the ceiling, fixing his gaze on something in one corner of it and when he followed it he could make out a small, dark spot he had not noticed before. Had to be a camera.

 

“I'm afraid that my name would not tell you anything, but, as you will have to address me in the near future, you may refer to me as Dante. I'm pleased to meet you, gentlemen, although I am afraid that a personal meeting will have to wait until we have acquired enough information.” The voice remained silent for a moment. It sounded definitely male, but the mechanical resonance made it difficult to make out anything individual about it. Ran turned to Schuldig to see how the other reacted towards it, but apparently he had not heard it before either, there was no recognition in his eyes.

 

“What are you talking about?” His voice was back on track now and he drew himself up to his full height, glaring at the ceiling. “Who are you, come out and show yourself, coward!”

 

“I understand that you have to be feeling quite uncomfortable right at this moment and I might be able to relieve any fears you should harbor by assuring you that you will be sent to more restful accommodation facilities shortly after I have introduced you to your new employer, LIMBUS. In the following days you will have enough opportunities to become familiar with our policy and you will be introduced to your new team members. You will also receive a new identity, but I am afraid that I will not be able to give you any details about it right now for security reasons. But I might be able to answer your most urgent questions, depending, of course, on their nature.”

 

A small pause followed in which Ran stared at the ceiling, unmoving, not really trusting his ears. Surely this had to be a joke. The worst joke he had ever heard but still a joke. This wasn't true.

 

“Where are the others?” Schuldig's voice was soft, almost too soft to hear and Ran involuntarily turned to look at him. The other redhead looked as if he was about to collapse any moment, his eyes were uncharacteristically wide, scared even, and his face was almost as white as the walls. He was swaying slightly on his feet and all he could read in his eyes was naked fear. He surely wasn't believing what that guy was telling them, was he?

 

“Yes, the rest of your teams, Schwarz and Weiss. I am very sorry to have to tell you that, after the collapse of the ani museum you two were the only survivors of your teams. We were able to rescue you from where you were drowning in the water, we even had to revive you, Schuldig-san. We have taken care of your wounds in the last days and I can assure both of you that you will recover completely.”

 

Another pause followed and Ran had to take a couple of deep breaths. Next to him Schuldig slowly slid down to his knees, his face completely blank, his mouth shut for once. Neither of them could say anything, let alone really comprehend what they had just been told. The owner of the voice seemed to be oblivious to their shock, after a moment he continued, devoid of any emotion.

 

“From what I have just witnessed I am more than thrilled to congratulate you to your new powers, Fujimiya-san. You have exceeded our expectations by far with your recent demonstration and although we will have to wait for the results I am quite confident that you will not disappoint our future expectations.” A small note of triumph accompanied those words, clearly audible over the metallic line, but although he had been addressed personally he needed a few moments to realize that the voice had been talking to him.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

The click sounded again, was then followed by the voice. “I beg your pardon, Fujimiya-san, of course you would not know what I was referring to. You surely deserve an explanation and I will gladly provide you with the necessary information. I do not know how competent you are in respect to psychic abilities. Examples of them would include talents like telekinesis, precognition or telepathy. Many people posses a rather small gift for one ability, but few can be awakened to be able to use their powers. You, Fujimiya-san, are one of the few lucky people who chose to be awakened, with a little help from our side. I hope you're still following me?”

 

At this point Schuldig's head snapped up and he stared at him, unmoving, not making a sound. There was something in his gaze that startled him, but before he could grasp it the voice was back.

 

“I am sure that this might be a bit too much for you, but you might also want to know what talent has been lying asleep inside of you ever since you were born, am I right?”

 

Something clicked inside his head and he frowned, hissing angrily, “Stop that, right now.”

 

“I understand that this is a very difficult and complicated truth for you to accept and I am once again sorry to cause you further discomfort, but surely you do understand that we had to include you into our team, a talent like yours should not be wasted, don't you think? As for you, Schuldig-san, please do not assume that we value your talent any less than that of your new team-member, we are very well aware of the fact that you have been one of Estet's most powerful telepaths and as such your contribution to this team is of the utmost importance to us.”

 

Schuldig made a small sound of distress at the back of his throat and Ran looked at him in time to see a look of utter horror and disbelieve cloud his pale features. “No…”

 

“I am sure that you will get comfortable with the new situation in no time, the other members of your new team are already awaiting your arrival. For the time of your training you will be placed under my surveillance, but I am sure that you will find your stay here very interesting and challenging and we will do our best to ensure your well being. After we have taken a look at your physical condition you will be informed about the next course of action. If you will please not panic now, I assure you that you will suffer no harm at all, this is just a precaution until you have got used to our facility…”

 

Ran tensed immediately at those words and looked around the room, scanning it quickly for possible dangers. A sharp hissing sound was all he could make out and his stunned brain took a moment to comprehend what was happening. His instincts kicked in when it was already too late. Gas. They were using some kind of gas… He immediately held his breath, once again scanning the room for any possible way out, but, as before, there was nothing, just white walls, all around him…

 

At some point his lungs demanded AIR and he took a deep breath without really wanting to. It worked almost immediately, he could already feel his knees giving in even before he had taken the second breath. The last thing he remembered were two wide, green eyes which held almost as much panic and fear he could well up inside his own chest and before he lost consciousness completely a soft voice ghosted through the room.

 

“Not again…”

 

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

 

Record:

14 : 53 :56 The monitoring of subject 339 has shown that said subject has indeed reacted as was presumed to stimulus, talent has apparently been awoken and is already used instinctively. This is a most surprising reaction and will be explored in much greater detail in future studies. It is nevertheless highly appreciated and will be monitored closely. The spontaneous awakening does have numerous advantages towards the forced awakening, the subject does not have to compensate the extreme side effects of the necessary medication and any reaction can be considered instinctive rather than forced. On this account the council has decided to continue this new approach and monitor the subject's reactions as closely as possible.

 

Individual file of subject 339 (Fujimiya Ran) has been added to this file:

 

 

Identification No.: 09 180 339
Name: Ran Fujimiya (see KRITIKER file No. WEISS 18693 17)

Current codename: Abyss

Current team: Oblivion (see LIMBUS file No. CANTO 8/10 01)

Current status: ACTIVE

Current mission: N/A

Former alias: Abyssinian

Former team: Crashers (see KRITIKER file No. CRASH 15789 13)

Weiss (see KRITIKER file No. WEISS 18693 17)

 

Instructor in charge of training: Dante (Japan) (personal file)

Test facility: CANTO 8/10, Kyoto

 

Category: Psychic Control

Talent: PSYCHIC CONTROL

Individual description of talent:

 

1. Psychic Sensing

Range: subject is able to sense psychic gifted targets in his immediate vicinity

Note: subject is not yet able to actively use psychic sensing, talent is triggered automatically when target uses his talents, subject is not yet able to differentiate or identify individual powers

Block: subject is able to instinctively block Psychic Sensing, successful block is independent of target's level of power

Description: given proper training subject will be able to sense and identify the nature of any psychic in his vicinity, judging the approximate level of said powers

Psychic Sensing Level: N/A (further training strongly recommended)

 

2. Psychic Control

Range: subject has to establish physical contact to target in order to use his power

Block: subject is able to block Psychic Control instinctively, but does not yet have enough control to actively block any level at all

Description: the successful use of his power enables subject to temporarily gain another psychic's talents and use said power himself, target will not be able to use its power during this time, given proper training subject will be able to use his powers without first gaining physical contact

Psychic Control Level: N/A (further training strongly recommended)

 

 

Strengths:

Strong, natural Mind Shield

subject is able to block most psychic powers on lower levels

 

Weaknesses:

Psychic Feedback

subject experiences physical discomfort from use of his talents, further training will reduce discomfort noticeably

 

 

Date of birth: July, 04

Place of birth: (see KRITIKER file No. WEISS 18693 17)

Gender: male

Blood type: A

Height: 1, 78 m

Weight: 70 kg

 

Notes: --

 

 

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[return to LIMBUS file No. CANTO 8/10 01]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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