Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 51 ( Chapter 51 )

51

 

Trapped in between heaven and hell

He knows all the secrets and don't want to tell

 

“No, Schuldig,” Brad murmured into the momentary silence. “This isn't the time for that.”

 

“What the hell do you mean, Brad?” I shot back, fear overwhelming my brief sense of decision. “We're in total chaos, here! We need help, and we're fucked for allies. You told Nagi you Saw me going to Kritiker, what if you had the wrong person?”

 

Brad seemed to consider this, the little frown line appearing between his eyebrows. “In any case,” he said, “this is not the time.”

 

I sat down on the other bed and threw my hands up in frustration. “So what the hell do you want me to do?”

 

“Schuldig, I said before that I was not putting you in my place as team leader just yet, and you may rest assured that I haven't changed my mind. Things are not so dire that we need to get radical. We just need to get moving, and I want you to pick a random direction and get us back on the road.”

 

His calm infuriated me, his comment about me leaving the team for Kritiker infuriated me, and his blatant unwillingness to even consider it himself infuriated me until the room seemed to glow red. “Brad,” I growled, trying to sound like I was in control of myself, “we're in the middle of fucking China, Farf is communing with the air conditioner, and you just ate rat poison. What do you expect me to do, just wander around until we're caught?”

 

Brad turned unseeing eyes toward my face and said, “I expect you to drive.”

 

“Prophet,” Farfarello called softly, “you never answered my question. Are your visions stronger, now?”

 

::And there you have it,:: I sent to Brad. ::You'd better say something, he'll know we're leaving him out.::

 

“Not at the moment, Farfarello,” Brad stated in a firm voice. “But if that changes, I will inform you.”

 

“Fair enough. Pardon me while I read a while.” Apparently the topic was now closed, as Far reached down and began to rummage through his travel bag. He pulled out a tiny, worn, vinyl-jacketed New Testament. The gold-painted letters had long since flaked off of the wine-colored cover, and some of the pages were loose.

 

::Three guesses just what, exactly, he's going to be reading. Brad, are you sure they can't help us? This is ridiculous! How the hell are we supposed to elude Esset with a raving madman in the car?::

 

::Crawford,:: Nagi joined in, ::I hate to agree with Schuldig on anything, but this time I think he's right. Farfarello is dangerous, we don't know if we have the right medications for him, or you, for that matter. Do you have any idea how long this will go on? Or is this our new lifestyle, now?::

 

Brad hung his head a moment, then told us, ::If Farfarello becomes a true threat to the team, I will put a bullet in his head without a second thought. Trust me to know if it ever comes to that.::

 

::It's been nearly forty minutes, by the way,:: Nagi announced, smoothly changing the subject to a less uncomfortable one. ::How do you feel?::

 

::I feel fine, actually. Aside from the fact that I can't see, of course.:: To me, Brad sent, ::And what's this about teabags?::

 

::Oh,:: I replied, trying to remember what the guy had said. ::They're supposed to be good for the blood. He just looked at my hands, then picked out the tea. Why?::

 

Brad smiled a vaguely nasty smile and said, ::Have a cup.::

 

::What do you know that I don't know?:: I asked, not liking this at all but reaching, out of habit, for the teabags.

 

::You need to keep your health up, we all do. Frankly, I can't remember our last meal. Can you?::

 

::How do you know this shit's safe?::

 

::I don't. That's why you're tasting it first.::

 

I blinked, totally unable to tell if he was joking. ::That's not funny, Brad.::

 

::Am I smiling?::

 

::Well, kind of. But in a nasty, Grinchy kind of way.:: Damn, but that look was strange without the shiny eyeglasses! ::Do you know what's in the tea? Because I'm not drinking it if you don't!::

 

::Oh, for pity's sake, Schu!:: Nagi sent, snatching the paper sack away from me and grabbing one of the teabags. He held it under his nose a few moments, then frowned. ::It smells like soup. Nori broth. With something sharp, I think it's ginger.::

 

He carefully tore a corner off the teabag and poured a little of the flaky powder into his palm. First Nagi studied it visually, then he smelled it again, before touching his tongue to it and contemplating the taste. ::Ugh! I mean, mmmm! Here, Schu, have some!:: He grabbed my hand and dumped the powder from his hand into mine, then set the teabag on top.

 

I scowled at the mess in my hand. ::Great. Seaweed tea.::

 

::It won't hurt you,:: Nagi informed me even as he got up to get some water. ::There's no alkali taste, no hint of anything bad, it's just weird.::

 

::Fine, if it'll make everyone happy…:: I got up and went to the little alcove that housed a tiny refrigerator and a coffee maker, then barged in on Nagi in the bathroom. He'd just finished rinsing his mouth out over the sink, and left without a word. As I filled the little pot with enough water for that nasty little teabag, I noticed there was a little packet of coffee in the courtesy basket. Sort of a high-end grocery brand of coffee, but it would do for me, anyway. Brad tended to be a coffee snob, but I wasn't quite as choosy. ::Brad? Want some coffee?::

 

No answer.

 

I peeked around the corner. Far was still seated by the window, Bible in hand. Brad was stretched out on his bed, the heavy coverlet wrapped over him. Nagi sat beside him, propped against the headboard. He was holding his pistol and watching Far through half-closed eyes.

 

Damn. I didn't want to take too long with this. Turning my attention back to the coffee maker, I barely waited for it to finish cycling before grabbing the pot. I poured hot water over the torn teabag, turned off the coffee maker, and carried my cup back into the bedroom. ::Chibi? Everything all right?::

 

::Crawford's sleeping, and we need food.:: Nagi set his gun down on the bed and indicated for me to take it. ::You can handle things for a few minutes, right? He wouldn't hurt you or Crawford, anyway.::

 

::What do you have in mind?:: I looked at the Beretta a moment, made sure the safety was on, then slid it into my waistband. This wasn't the first time I'd kept watch when Far was having an odd turn, but the circumstances bothered me more than usual.

 

Nagi quietly put on his sneakers and stuffed some money into his pocket. ::I'll find a good place to leave the computer while I'm at it. You can do that later. Crawford wants to be on the road tonight, so I'm finding us some dinner and a map, if I can. I know you'd get lost in a shopping mall, I don't trust you without one.::

 

::Love you too, chibi.:: I sat down on the other bed and took a sip of my tea. Damn, that was nasty! Kid was right, it was more a soup than a tea, but even soup shouldn't be this fucking bitter! I started to get up, intending to dump it in the toilet, but Nagi was watching me. Instead I smiled and took another sip.

 

Good thing I hadn't eaten much that day.

 

::Maybe you should have strained the leaves out first.:: Nagi took a moment to put his brown contact lenses back in, wincing a little, and waited till his eyes stopped watering before reaching for the door. :: If I'm not back in forty minutes, look for me. I'll try to be faster than that. It's just the lobby restaurant.::

 

I nodded, knowing too well that we were out of options. Had been, ever since Rosenkreuz, but that was just me getting bitter. They say you are what you eat; I frowned at the bitter tea that seemed to get darker green the longer it sat. Nasty damn swamp water. I dipped a finger in and pulled out some of the soggy leaves, smearing them along the inside of the cup. Disgusting.

 

Far didn't seem to notice when Nagi let himself out of the room. He kept reading, his lips moving from time to time as though working out a math problem. Good call on the chibi fetching dinner; at the moment, Far was manageable, but I wouldn't place money on it lasting too much longer.

 

“I'll keep watch, if you want to sleep.”

 

I startled, nearly spilling my cup on the bed. Farfarello had ghosted up and stood right next to me, leaning down so his breath tickled my ear. “G-rrr shit!” I snarled, starting to say `god damn it' but stopping myself just in time. “You scared the crap out of me, Far!”

 

The mad Irishman let out a low chuckle. “Hush, or you'll wake him.” He seated himself on the bed and reclined back, looking up at the ceiling. “It must be so hard for you.”

 

Mindful of my volume, I whispered, “What do you mean, Far?” I set the cup down on the nightstand, and let my hand drift toward Nagi's gun.

 

“You're so confused about what you want, and wondering what it all means. You never get any rest from it, do you.” He regarded me with that one amber eye, his expression serious.

 

“What I want,” I murmured, thinking about it before answering, “what I want is for things to be the way they were.”

 

“Wrong.” Far looked back up at the ceiling. “And you have the audacity to call Crawford blind.”

 

It's usually best to humor Farfarello when he was being oblique like this, so I prompted, “Okay, so tell me what I really want, Far.” I tried to scan his thoughts, but they were whirling too fast; something was about to give.

 

“What you want,” he purred, “is for Crawford to love you, to call you his only, and for that love to magically make the world all right again. But you know nothing.”

 

“That hurt, Far,” I whispered, wondering where the fuck he was going with this crap. “Brad does love me. He loves all of us, we're his family.” I refrained from blurting out that I really thought he did love me like that, even though he had the hardest damn time showing it and wouldn't admit it even if I held a gun to his head.

 

“You know what I mean, pretty.” He turned his head to look at me again, and his eye held wisdom and sorrow. Just as Brad asleep seemed too young, right then Far seemed far too old. “Keep chipping at it and you might break through. Or you might not. Depends on the nature of reality, in a way.”

 

I frowned at him. “You lost me. This isn't another of those physics quizzes, is it?”

 

Far laughed softly. “Say that three times fast. No, it's not. It's about deeper truths.”

 

Oh, shit. “Far, don't -”

 

Now it was his turn to frown at me. “It isn't always about God, you know. I'm not that naïve. But it is a question that I think applies to everything we're going through right now. Free will, or fate? They say most precognitives come to believe in fate. It must be hard to reconcile what you See of the future with the possibility of freedom.”

 

Freedom. Again I looked over at our sleeping leader. He had betrayed Esset, disrupted their ritual, and put his team in the firing line to do so. He had Seen our freedom, bought in our own blood.

 

Brad Crawford had never seemed the altruistic sort; rather he comes across as a total mercenary. So why had he put his team in the middle of it? Was it just because we landed there by accident, or had he planned this all along? It looked like we were on the verge of saving humankind, when we thwarted that summoning. Had Crawford intended that?

 

And why?

 

“The question remains,” Far whispered, “are we creatures of fate tormenting ourselves with the idea of free will, or are we creatures with free will tormenting ourselves with the idea of fate? Or are we like billiard balls, bouncing around the table with no sign of an original motivator?”

 

Slowly I turned and stared at him. “Far, if ever I begin to understand you, I'll be very worried.”

 

He smiled a serene smile and told me, “It's all right. We can't all be learned men. You're probably better with that little pea-shooter than I am, you can feel good about that.”

 

Though he could usually pick up on whether someone was armed, how Far knew I had Nagi's gun was beyond me. “Yeah, great, I feel so very accomplished.”

 

Farfarello leaned toward me and gently tugged me into an embrace. His cheek felt cool against mine. “Are you free will, or fate, dear one? And which is he?” His tongue darted out to caress my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine.

 

Again I tried to read his thoughts, and this time he let me, echoing his thoughts aloud. “Let's dance for the end of the world. The boy is gone, to get us supper no doubt, and Crawford will sleep a while. He doesn't admit fear, but it makes him weary.”

 

It wasn't too strange for Farfarello to veer from obsession to lust. They were two very powerful motivators, after all. Motivators… Probably not the kind he was talking about, but still the thought made me smile.

 

::Far, I don't want Nagi to walk in on anything, and Brad…::

 

Far kissed me tenderly, then backed away a little and stared at my face. ::You do love him, don't you. I thought as much. I've said before, I don't trespass. Not that I don't want to.::

 

I sighed. At that moment, I missed the rough spontaneous passion that was Farfarello. ::It's not like we're dating,:: I told him. ::I mean…:: My face grew hot, and Far's eyebrow went up. He knew. He knew about Yohji.

 

::Exactly. I don't trespass.::

 

::Schuldig?:: Brad's mental call cut through our discussion. ::Where is Nagi? I thought he was on the bed with me.::

 

“He's fetching us some dinner,” I replied aloud, wanting both of them out of my head. Brad's jealousy, Far's obliqueness, my own indiscretion - I was pretty sure the three wouldn't mix gracefully. “Downstairs, at the hotel restaurant. He's due back in…” I checked the clock. “About ten minutes.”

 

“Check in on him,” Brad ordered. He sat up and raised his left hand, as if to glance at his watch. Brad seemed to have forgotten that he couldn't see, and frowned a little before dropping his hand to his lap with a sigh. His right hand rose to rub at his temple. ::Schuldig, what time is it?::

 

::Quarter to five.::

 

::Four forty-five?:: Brad prompted, well aware of my casual treatment of such measures. ::I want precision, Schu.::

 

::Forty six,:: I replied, trying to shake off the wave of emotion rolling off Brad just then. Shit, he couldn't see his watch. I hadn't even thought of that when this little drama had started, but now the effects of it were making themselves known. Precogs can get extremely disoriented if they don't know when they are, and Brad never went anywhere without a watch. Or two. ::Are you all right, Brad?::

 

::I'm fine.:: As though realizing I knew otherwise, he clamped down on his shields and stated, “Go ahead and contact Nagi, Schu. I want a full report.

 

My teeth clenched in frustration, but I did as Brad commanded. ::Chibi? Where you at?::

 

::It's not forty minutes, Schuldig,:: Nagi replied instantly in his best `baka Schuldig' tone. ::I'm waiting for the elevator.::

 

::Brad's awake, he wants a report.::

 

::Moo goo gai pan, Hunan-style beef, and pork with noodles.::

 

I chuckled and repeated this aloud. “Tastiest report I've ever given,” I added before telling Nagi, ::I'll be waiting at the door, kiddo.::

 

“Schuldig, I hate to ask this of you,” Brad said, “but you'll need to get some quick rest after dinner. I want us out of here tonight, and obviously I can't drive.”

 

“I could teach the chibi,” I offered. This suggestion met with a singularly sour expression on Brad's face, unbuffered by eyeglasses. Shit, this was going to be rough. “Hey, Farf can drive, why don't we let him take a turn?”

 

::Schuldig… He's already `taken a turn', wouldn't you say?:: Brad observed. ::Do you trust him behind the wheel?::

 

I thought about this as I headed for the door; I could sense Nagi about four meters down the hallway. My earlier conversations with Far echoed in my head, leaving behind chilly spots that I didn't really want to look at. Farfarello intended to hunt down at least one member of Weiß; he would make certain he lived long enough to see his plan through. ::Actually, Brad, I do. He has every reason to be careful. At least, until he gets back to Japan.::