Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 3 ( Chapter 3 )

3

"You did good, Schu." Crawford finished going through the bags while I stripped off the layered clothing and dried off the sweat.

"I hope I didn't forget anything. I got your guns, Farf's medicine, I killed the computers, I even got money and food. Oh, I didn't know where or if I should use this, but I grabbed it too." I handed him his ATM card.

He smiled slightly. "I'll find a way to get what we need from this. Oh, and thanks for the M&Ms."

"Any change?" I asked, tugging on a pair of jeans.

"Not yet. Help me get them cleaned up and into some dry clothes."

We agreed without saying it that Farf should be in his straitjacket until the seizures stopped. Nagi we dressed in his school uniform and wrapped with a blanket. The boy was dead weight in my arms. It reminded me of the first time I'd met him, when I had to help him bathe and the little waif had passed out from exhaustion on my lap afterward, his damp hair cool against my chest. Tears welled up and I hauled them back, unwilling to feel those feelings just yet.

The sea-ruined clothing went into a pile in the back of the cabin. The fancy white suits wouldn't be leaving with us. Some articles had been used as bandages for Farfarello's wounds, and the only items still wearable were our underclothes and three pairs of trousers anyway. We'd keep those just in case, but when we left we'd be wearing the clothes I'd brought from the apartment. This would lighten the bags somewhat, for which I was thankful. I had the feeling I'd be carrying them for a while.

Crawford and I tore into the rations, only then realizing how long it had been since our last meal. Outside, the newly-risen sun struggled against rain clouds. After our desperate breakfast, Crawford took a bottle of sports drink and poured a few drops against Farf's lips. Farf gave a slow, reflexive lick at the moisture. Crawford gave him some more, not wanting to choke him but knowing he'd need the liquid.

Nagi was more difficult. He was in a damn coma, our payback for the Fujimiya girl, no doubt. He didn't respond to the cool drops on his mouth; between Brad and myself, we managed to force him to swallow a little liquid. I could only hope that he wouldn't die of exposure before waking up from his damage-induced sleep. Being this close to him, it wasn't hard for me to figure out that my guess had been right, and his battle with the sea had broken something inside his head. But Crawford had Seen him waking up, so I held onto that hope with all my failing strength.

Crawford opened a bottle and shook out a handful of pain pills. He offered me half. His eyes were too bright; pain gnawed at him from at least a few broken ribs, if not worse. At least he didn't have a fever.

I washed the bitter pills down with a swig of too-sweet sports drink and sank to the floor beside him. I pulled one of the gym bags over and hauled out a sheet. It was one of my favorites, Egyptian cotton linen and expensive as hell. I took one of Farf's knives and sliced into the sheet, then tore off a wide strip. Crawford watched, seemingly dazed from his injuries and not really aware of what I had in mind.

"Lean forward," I told him, "and lift your arms." I'm not the team medic, that would be Nagi's job, but I do know how to wrap broken ribs. I wound the linen about Brad's torso, trying not to think about the intimacy of the situation; this was hardly the time or place for that. He winced a little, but I knew the bandage would help. I tied the end inelegantly, and shrugged. "Sorry, forgot the safety pins."

"How about you? Where were you injured, Schuldig?"

I lifted my right hand, now scabbed over with angry red lines. "And I think I hit my head. I don't remember some of it."

Crawford eased my head down and examined the back of it with gentle fingers. "There's dried blood here, Schu. Hand me the alcohol."

I flinched at the thought, but did as he told me. He tore off another bit of sheet and used it with the alcohol to clean my wounds. My scalp wasn't so bad, but my hand felt like it was on fire.

After we were done doctoring each other, I turned to sit next to him, not wanting to lie down to sleep. Brad was in too much discomfort to move, anyway. It would be warmer like this. Crawford tugged the second blanket up and hooked a corner of it behind my shoulder. "Get some sleep, Schuldig."

I couldn't argue with that. My body and mind were beyond exhausted.

I don't know how long we sat there, propped against each other while Nagi and Farf lay in the next room, locked in dreamless slumber. I must have slept; the cabin was dark now save for the moonlight struggling through the cracks in the shutters.

"Get some more sleep," Crawford whispered. "We'll have to leave soon, couple of days at best."

"I can't sleep anymore." My voice sounded hollow. The dark hours of the night had always inspired men to morbid thoughts, and I was already in the throes of them. "What if Nagi doesn't wake up by then? What do we do?" I couldn't bear to ask the real question.

Brad answered it anyway. "Nagi will wake up, Schuldig. If it's not before we leave, you carry him. There is no choice, we'll have to go or we'll be found. We had five days on the outside, and I want to be well away by then." He turned his head to look at me. "I'm sorry."

"For what? For not dying?" Hysteria loomed; I refused to give in to it. "Brad..."

"My name," he stated, sounding almost like himself for a moment, "is Crawford, Schuldig. I am still your leader and you would do well to remember that."

But his thoughts and emotions were not so confident, and I called him on it. "Brad," I said with emphasis, "you did not fail the team. We won, thanks to you." I felt his arm tense as his mind recognized my scrutiny and tried to shield against it. My head still hurt, though not so brutally as before, but I would not back down. He had to know, I had to make him know or we would never leave this room. ::Brad. You didn't fail us.::

His eyes misted over and for one second Brad Crawford looked utterly vulnerable. My hand lifted from his arm to caress his face, and before I knew my own intentions I had leaned in and pressed my lips to his. Bliss exploded in my mind, tearing through the shreds of pain and fatigue and sanity like the sword of an archangel. I had craved this touch for far too long, and under the circumstances, I was wholly beyond myself. We had nearly died, we could be found any moment, Brad's gift could fail and we could be found and Nagi might die and --

::Schuldig?? What are --??:: His thoughts flared in confusion, then abruptly veered into decision.

His arms enfolded me, pulling me closer, and I shifted so that I was kneeling beside him, facing him, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him from the coldness of the wall. His mouth opened to mine, his mind opened, and I fell into both, ravenous kisses echoed in the whisper of my thoughts. Fear and despair gave way to the calm that was Brad Crawford. My mind began to let go of its panicky babbling and form coherent, if humbling, thoughts. Thoughts I had fought so long to keep to myself and were now professed to him like a deathbed prayer. ::God, Brad, please, I'm yours, I always have been, claim me, take me, make me whole…::

He broke the kiss only long enough to whisper, "Shhh. I know, Schuldig. I know."

All pretense shredded away, there in that cabin, with the sounds of our stricken teammates' breaths mingling with the murmur of the sea like a chorus of drowned sailors bound for Hell. Without words, I knew. He loved me. Madness hovered just beyond my knowing, and I didn't care. He loved me. The horrors of the Elders flapped like black birds in my memory, shattered into ashes before the power of Brad's love for me, for all of us. He became my refuge, my keep, the fortress of my mind, sharing his strength not out of duty or honor but out of love. Love for me.

I felt faint.

Desperation and madness merged into need. His hands slid up under my shirt; I shivered at his touch. My own hands shook as I unfastened his pants. I trembled as he pushed my pants down and caressed my too-cold skin. I clutched at his shoulders for balance and straddled him, knowing he was still too hurt to do anything more athletic than this. Brad tangled one hand in my hair, pulled my mouth to his, kissed me with powerful determination. He moaned against my mouth as my fingers coaxed him, urged him, guided him. Our mingled spit would suffice for this; I stroked him with a wet hand and pushed back onto him.

My mind shattered.

Brad's eyes flew wide open as the sensations flooded his body and his mind, unexpected and thrilling. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. I claimed his mouth again, silencing myself with his tongue even as my shields flared into nothingness and I felt myself pouring into him. He whimpered and thrust up into me, pulling me down onto him, trembling with the force of our mingled passion.

Fear, lust, need, desire, a wisp of soul, a spark, a tiny shred of humanity not yet withered... Random glimpses of thought spun wildly in my head, whether mine or his, or someone else's, I could not begin to guess, nor could I care. When gods fuck, the earth must surely tremble... If this were madness, I would gladly stay here.

Beneath me, Brad groaned, not fighting as I took his mind as forcefully as he took me, thrusting, filling, overpowering.

I tasted salt, and copper. Brad wrapped his arms around me and I felt him come, his cock spasming inside me, his mind shuddering, hot liquid filling me, flowing from him, blood flowing from his nose, tears coursing down his face.

My body jerked, all muscles locking up as I came, spilling out upon his belly, spilling into his already wounded mind. He whimpered against my lips.

Oh God.

"Brad?" I forced myself to look at his face. Moonlight showed a fresh wet stain above his lip, dark without color, but his eyes were bright and lucid. "Oh, God, I hurt you."

He smiled, a serene and beautiful smile. "It's not that bad, Schu." He caressed my face.

"Don't ever leave me, Brad," I whispered, searching his eyes for confirmation that he wasn't lying, that I hadn't injured him beyond repair.

"I won't," he promised, searching my eyes for...what?

Suddenly I understood, and I would not accept it. "And promise you will never send me away from you!"

"Schuldig, you know I can't promise that. There'll come a time when -"

"Lie to me!" I whispered with all the urgency of my soul.

He blinked, then nodded. "All right, Schu: I promise."

"And never go where I can't follow," I begged, voice cracking. I had only just found something worth living for, I was not about to lose it. This could not be allowed to fade back into a masquerade.

"I won't."

"I hurt you," I repeated, tears washing down my face.

"Shhh." He eased me up off him and cuddled me against his chest. "Sleep, now. We'll talk more later."

"I love you," I whispered as fatigue rolled over me.

"I know."