Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 85 ( Chapter 85 )

85

 

I know exactly what you're thinking

But I swear this time I will not let you down

 

Brad drove in jawlocked silence.

 

Mechanically I tended my own injuries: staunching the nosebleed, eating pain pills, and cleaning the gunshot wound as best I could left-handed with the aid of the vanity mirror. My shirt was a total loss, but I couldn't get at my other clothing. So I sat there, shivering with reaction and shock, covered in my own blood and mud where the stuff on my knees had begun to thaw. That's right, I'd fallen on my knees; I'd have to clean those up too, as soon as I had a safe place to take my pants down. I wasn't about to do it now, no matter how much they stung. Brad was driving like a man possessed, and I had no idea if pursuit were nearby. My mind hurt too much to be useful. I'd never had my will overrun like that before, even in training.

 

I ground my teeth together and swallowed my questions. This wasn't the time to ask them.

 

In the back seat, Nagi and Farfarello still lay just as we'd arranged them, the kid slumped in one corner, the Irishman in the other with his broken leg propped up across Nagi's lap. I couldn't tell if Far were awake or not, but what really bothered me was I couldn't tell if Nagi were just sleeping. If he slipped into another coma…

 

“He won't,” Brad stated, his voice hard. “Will you shut up and let me concentrate on driving?”

 

“I didn't say a damn thing, Brad,” I snarled.

 

“Don't start, Schuldig.”

 

I took a deep breath and wished for nicotine. Hell, at that point I was wishing for harder stuff. Anything to blunt the headache and that stretched-too-tight feeling. Instead, I settled for staring out the window at the storm-black night. Behind us, sheets of rain glimmered gray in the occasional flash of lightning.

 

I cranked up the car's heater. The storm looked like it was following us, a fitting metaphor for the hunters Brad tried so desperately to elude.

 

Or did he?

 

My mind spun with possibilities, and as it spun, I began to get really pissed. He'd led us right to them, what the hell did that mean? If Farfarello hadn't scented the trap, what would have happened back there?

 

Without warning, Brad jerked the steering wheel and slid the car off the road, the tires whining in their vain search for traction. They caught in the gravel and loose earth, pulling the nose of the car toward what looked like a ditch. I held on for dear life.

 

But the crash never came. Brad maneuvered along the slope of a shallow hill, following the curve of the land back toward the highway and down below a small bridge. He stamped on the brake, nearly throwing me into the dashboard as he threw the gearshift into park. “Get out.” He unfastened his own seat belt and reached for the door.

 

I followed his lead, shrugging my shirt around me as I got out into the damp air. Rain seemed to echo my movements, arriving at the near edge of the bridge before pouring over the other side. It fell hard enough to cover the tire tracks and form a curtain around the underpass.

 

Brad faced away from me, standing as close to the rain as he could without getting drenched. He'd folded his arms tightly as though holding himself back. “What the hell were you doing back there?”

 

“What do you mean, what was I doing?” I snarled, adrenalin rising up in my blood. “What the fuck were you doing, you son of a bitch? You nearly got us all killed!”

 

Brad whirled and glared at me, his expression stony. “You froze.”

 

“I did not!” I stormed closer to him, gesturing in spite of the pain in my shoulder. “Nagi locked down, and I got fucked over trying to move him!”

 

“You weren't fast enough.”

 

“Fuck you! I did what I could, the kid rooted himself to the goddamn spot and then pulled me into his goddamn head! You should never have taken us there in the first place, unless that was your whole goddamn point!” By this time, I was damn near nose to nose with him. Spittle flew from my lips and my voice had taken on the sharp, screeching tone of a diving hawk. “What the fuck was that, you led us right to them!”

 

I dodged the first blow, took the second in the stomach and doubled over with a gasp. Before Brad regained his stance, I grappled him about the middle and lunged, throwing both of us out into the rain and landing in a tangle in the mud.

 

Brad's foot came up to kick me in the back as I staggered up. I fell to my knees, my hand wrapping around Brad's ankle and fouling his attempt to get off the ground. His other foot kicked at my wrist.

 

For a moment we scrambled apart and crouched panting, covered in muck, glaring hatred at one another.

 

Then Brad took another swing. His thoughts screamed accusation: ::If anything happened to Nagi, it's your fault!::

 

My thoughts were just as damning. ::You bastard! What happened - your “deal” fall through?::

 

As we rushed each other, a gray shadow not made of rain drifted between us. Farfarello stood calmly, a blanket in his hands. “You should get out of the rain.”

 

Brad backed away, breathing hard.

 

I stood there and hugged myself about the middle. Everything hurt.

 

Far spoke between us, addressing neither. “I can't drive with my leg like this. I need one of you to get us out of here.”

 

Brad took a stumbling step toward the car.

 

Farfarello draped the blanket about Crawford's shoulders as though he were a disgraced prize fighter.

 

I followed them both, my questions unanswered.

 

 

 

A/N:

I know exactly what you're thinking

But I swear this time I will not let you down

“What Do I Have To Do?” - Stabbing Westward Wither Blister Burn & Peel

 

For those curious about which language the characters are speaking, all these angry words were probably in German. Imagine whichever way you wish, though - but Schu can't scream that well in Japanese.