Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 97 ( Chapter 97 )

97

 

Sometimes I drive to run from all my demons

 

I shifted in the driver's seat, my back sore from three hours of tension. My mind refused to quiet down and just drive, insisting on throwing the past four days back at me in handfuls of mental confetti.

 

“You all right?” Brad asked. “I can take a turn if you need to rest.”

 

“No,” I told him, “I'm fine. Just thinking.”

 

As he settled back to doze in the passenger's seat, bits of conversation fluttered through my memory in a chaotic surge. Again I struggled to make sense of what Brad had told me during that brief respite in Sicily, though it was what he'd left out that bothered me the most.

 

“I had another bout of blindness…” This hadn't come as much of a surprise, truth be told. From what we'd figured out the first time, the likelihood of it becoming a fact of Brad's life was high. Still, the implications carried their own warning: there could be no help from a doctor - just imagine what Esset would do with a blind Oracle, and that's exactly what would happen. Not for the first time, my mind flashed back to my bout of pneumonia in a masochistic sort of satisfaction at the irony.

 

Then, fickle as summer rain, my thoughts turned back to current things, teasing me with “what ifs” and “watch outs” without giving any wisdom in return.

 

::The more Kritiker knows now, the better off we'll be when the - anyway, thank you, Schuldig.:: It wasn't so much the knowledge that there was indeed a game being played on an unseen board with an unknown number of players that bothered me; I'd come to terms with that months ago. No, it was the way we seemed to bounce between being pawns and being players: pawns don't tend to win, unless they're very, very lucky. And now, by implication, Yohji was a pawn as well, the board expanded to include whatever Kritiker called their own. Brad carefully avoided telling me any more than this, this damn vague hint that something was indeed in the wind, as ominous and unstoppable as Godzilla.

 

Or wait, more like Ghidorah, the three-headed flying bastard. Yeah, the really destructive one.

 

Fuck, I didn't want to be thinking about this.

 

As if I could stop thinking about it.

 

My mind latched onto the image of Japanese monsters on the rampage and turned to remind me of the little uncharted monster in the back seat. I resisted the urge to turn and look at him; it would only make him glare at me. He blamed me for not being around when Brad went blind this time, but there was nothing to do about it. Brad put me exactly where he wanted me, as he did with us all. Didn't change the fact that Nagi took it personally.

 

“I think Nagi's talent is changing.” From what to what, exactly? Of course, that hadn't been in the conversation. Not in so many words. But Brad suspected that there was something going on that Nagi was both unaware of and unable to control. And that scared the piss out of me.

 

Nagi had turned the sky to snow.

 

Hell, at the start of all this he'd defied the sea itself.

 

Or was there more to it?

 

Fuck, I really didn't want to be thinking about this.

 

Implications are heavy bastards.

 

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Brad checking his watch and frowning.

 

::Everything okay?:: Even as I asked this, I felt his shields tighten, throwing me out. I flinched and tried to concentrate on driving.

 

“People have noticed,” Brad murmured, his voice soft. “Things are changing, more rapidly and yet more slowly than… I've missed something.”

 

My jaw clenched and I silently cursed the fact that I had to keep driving. A trickle of hilarity reminded me that Brad had managed to get out of the driver's seat before this one hit; we were lucky in that regard, at least. I glanced over at Brad, to see if he was back yet.

 

His mouth moved, but no words came out.

 

“Fuck. Far, can you do something, here?” I hated handing Brad off to Farfarello, but under the circumstances we didn't have much choice.

 

Farfarello leaned over the seat and carefully gripped Brad's shoulder before beginning to speak in a low, calming tone. “When you're ready to come back, you're in a car with your team. We have your back, Crawford. Just take your time, and See what you need to See.”

 

Brad twitched like a sleeper caught on the brink of unconsciousness. He checked his watch, wiped sweat from his forehead, then murmured, “I'm all right. A little unsettled, but not alarmed. Not yet, anyway. I just have to make certain I don't miss it when it comes.”

 

I had to ask, though I didn't expect an answer. “Miss what?”

 

But Brad surprised me. “I'm not exactly sure. I have to intercept something. I'm guessing the vision will just keep repeating until I find it, or it's too late. I hate those, but there you have it.”

 

“Great. I fucking hate repeaters, Brad. They creep me right the hell out.”

 

Apparently Brad felt no need to argue with that, as he said nothing.

 

Silent tension filled the car as nightfall brought us into Sarajevo. Either I'd strayed too far east, or we'd been further along than I'd thought when we turned south; either way, I hadn't quite expected to end up here. As Brad directed me toward a secure area to park, I breathed a prayer for the ghosts that still remained and thanked God or whoever that I was just a telepath, and not an object reader.

 

“Farfarello, you have the watch,” Brad stated. “We're only stopping for a few hours, but it's necessary. Schuldig, pop the trunk.”

 

I hit the button under the dash and the trunk lid swung obediently up. Brad took two of the large fuel cans and began to pour their contents into the nearly-empty tank.

 

I came around to help, but the fumes made me gag, and Brad waved me away. “I've got this, Schuldig. Make sure Nagi eats something.”

 

Farfarello had already dug into the rations and handed Nagi something that made the kid scowl darkly. Acting casual, I sat on the edge of the back seat next to Nagi and leaned over to see what he had.

 

Nagi took a bite of the dubious-looking sausage and winced. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and visibly tried not to choke.

 

Without a second thought I took the meat away from him and handed him my bag of potato chips. “Here, chibi. Try this.”

 

Nagi looked relieved, and even smiled a little. “I wasn't sure what that was, but I think it's Scheiße.”

 

My mouth dropped open a moment before the laughter caught up with it. “See? It's a useful word to know!”

 

“First word you taught me,” Nagi murmured, ducking his head a little. “I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you, Schuldig. I just…I mean, nothing's been right.”

 

I draped an arm across his shoulders and pulled him closer, hugging him like the kid brother he should have been. “Aw, it's okay. I know it's all crazy right now, worse than usual, but we're all together and -”

 

“Crawford sent you away.” Nagi's eyes glowed darkly, the anger and betrayal boiling so close to the surface his hair seemed to flutter in their wake. “He keeps sending you away.”

 

“But I keep coming back, don't I?” I nearly choked on the words, their implications just as heavy as any of the others I'd been carrying. “They needed to be told, chibi. I was the only one who could do that.”

 

“That's not it, Schuldig,” Nagi whispered, a new intensity to his voice. “He's going to break up the team, I just know he is, but I don't know why. Or when. Only that, when it happens, I think he's planning to go on alone.”

 

The hair on the back of my neck stirred, sending a chill down my spine. “Nagi, I don't think -”

 

“Car's refueled, gentlemen,” Brad called softly. “Schuldig, get some sleep. We're driving out before dawn.”

 

I gave Nagi another small hug and whispered, “It's going to be all right, kiddo. Trust me?”

 

Nagi seemed to think about the question before nodding.

 

Brad settled into the passenger seat and tilted it back; I did likewise on the driver's side, huddling inside my battered leather coat against the night chill.

 

“Come here, Schuldig,” Brad whispered, rolling toward me a little. I followed his lead and snuggled against his shoulder. As his arms wrapped around me, his mental voice sounded clear inside my head. ::It's going to get worse before it gets better. Remember that for me, all right?::

 

I moved back just enough to get a good look at Brad's face. He looked ragged, with weary, reddened eyes. And when the hell did he get so much gray at the temples? “We'll get through this,” I told him out loud, projecting as much confidence as I could manage. “We're Schwarz, remember?”

 

Brad swallowed hard and nodded. “How could I ever forget?” He gave me that crooked smile as he reached up and tugged a lock of my hair. “It's good to have you back, Schuldig.”

 

My mind flashed back to Yohji's smile, the coffee maker flooding his kitchen. I hoped my smile looked steady as I replied, “It's good to be back, Brad.”

 

I met Brad's gaze and mind-whispered the thoughts that had haunted me every time he'd split the team. ::You confuse me, acting like you're sending me away to Kritiker, and then welcoming me back with open arms. What do you want of me, Brad?::

 

::What I want…:: Brad looked away from me, his profile stern. ::What I want doesn't matter, Schuldig. You will always manage to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences. That is what I will always count on.::

 

In a few hours, I would be driving on from nowhere to nowhere, with only this answer to go on. Would it be enough? My jaw clenched with the realization that no, this time I needed more. ::Brad - why me?::

 

Brad swallowed and closed his eyes, then opened them again and met my gaze straight on. His mind felt as cool and ordered as it ever did. ::Because I need you, Schu. I need you, more than you can know.::

 

Need. Not love.

 

I struggled not to let that thought past my shields, but he saw it all the same. Strong fingers tilted my head back as he bent toward me, his mouth hot against mine. ::I'm sorry, Schuldig. If it's not enough, you're free to go to him.::

 

In answer, I kissed him back, clinging to him in sheer desperation; in my chest, my heart felt like it was about to shatter. ::I don't know what you're running from, and I don't think I want to know, do I? Just promise me this, promise me that when it's all done, it will have been worth it. Because this hurts like fucking hell, Brad, and I don't know how long I can hold on.::

 

::Don't say that!:: Brad's mental voice held a hint of panic as he crushed me against him. ::You can hold on, you have to! I can't do this alone!::

 

Time slowed to the count of two hearts beating. Distantly I felt myself fall back into my own body, the rough tendrils of Brad's Sight tossing me aside like a broken moth.

 

 

 

 

A/N:

Sometimes I drive to run from all my demons

 

“Drive” - Assemblage 23 Defiance

 

As mentioned last chapter, sometimes the aftermath of the migraine is just as frustrating as the pain itself. It's always harder to make sense of information that doesn't please us, and Brad had damn little comfort to offer his second.

 

The problem with trying to outrun demons is that the damn things fly so fast.