Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ New Rules, New Ruler ❯ Chapter 22 ( Chapter 22 )
Part Twenty-Two
* A/N: I did warn you, it gets worse. Lots of angst and tear jerking to come. Mwahahaha *
Nagi lifted Schuldig's body away from Tash, who was sobbing against the wall. Schuldig was still babbling away to himself. It was all he seemed able to do.
"Brad?" Nagi asked in a small voice as he concentrated on floating Schuldig up the steps.
"No, he's not there. At all." Crawford's voice was flat, unemotional. Nagi started to cry.
Omi stared at the younger boy, then, in front of all of his teammates, walked over to him and hugged him. Nagi leant into the embrace. Schuldig's body dipped sharply, and Nagi pulled away to concentrate on his task. He gave Omi an apologetic look. Omi's heart broke for the younger boy.
Farfarello released Tanya walked over to steady Schuldig's body. If he hadn't been talking, he would have been tempted to term it `Schuldig's corpse'. Brain-dead, to all effects.
They settled Schuldig in the front seat of the car. Nagi and Farfarello sat together in the back. Nagi was still sobbing quietly, and Farfarello wrapped both arms around him. Farfarello rested his chin on the top of Nagi's head, a single tear trickling from his single eye. He was insane, not stupid, and Schuldig had been a good friend.
Crawford sat poker straight in the driving seat, eyes on the road ahead, as they always were. Always ahead. Never the now. He pulled away from the Koneko. Always looking ahead. Never able to see what was right in front of him because he was looking past it.
They were maybe half a mile down the road before Crawford pulled over. Resting his arms on the wheel, he buried his head in them. Nagi and Farfarello watched his shoulders bob as he cried. Mr Bradley Crawford gave into his grief on a public road in the middle of Tokyo were millions could see him crying like a small child.
"It's my fault." Schuldig said suddenly. Nagi's stared at him. "I hurt him, I didn't listen, I let him go. If I'd listened, if I'd taken into account what he was saying, if I'd looked harder… he died thinking I hate him. I never told him otherwise..."
"No," Farfarello told Crawford sharply. "He knew ye loved him he just couldn't understand why ye didn't." Crawford raised a bleary eye to stare at the Irishman. "Why ye didn't know ye loved him. Hell, it was obvious to the rest o' us, right, Nagi?" Nagi didn't reply. His world was falling apart. Schuldig was gone, the irrepressible, irresponsible, irritating Schuldig. Brad Crawford was crying. Cold, emotionless, detached, impassive Brad Crawford was sobbing like a baby in the front seat of his BMW. Nagi clung tighter to Farfarello. At this rate the Irishman would be a priest by next Saturday.
Crawford rested his head on his arms, the occasional tear still slipping over damp cheeks. It was hard to take in. His heart throbbed I his chest, his stomach felt empty. There was a sudden, nasty feeling like he'd swallowed a very large slug. Guilt. Grief always seemed to be nine parts guilt. That and anger. How dare Schuldig leave him like this? Leave him when there was so much left to be said? So much left to be done? Tears threatened to overwhelm him again, but he was illegally parked and no policeman would accept that the babbling man in the seat next to him was to all effects dead.
"We can't go back," he told the others hoarsely. "Killing the heads of SS twice is going to cause a lot of anger. The apartment won't be safe."
"Tash is still out there. I don't… I don't understand why Schuldig went for her like that," Nagi admitted miserably.
"That's up to us to work out and complete what he began," Farfarello said. Crawford nodded slowly. It would be something, perhaps, that Schuldig wouldn't have been lost in vain.
He pulled away from the curb carefully. Schuldig twittered on relentlessly.
"I forgot to buy - did I - stupid ki - what if he - oh shit - apples - burger or chips - need detergent - damn phone - idiot child - wish that brat - too slow old - have to - shut up - Oh Schu…"
"We need to get out of this city!" Nagi yelled over Schuldig's repartee. "Somewhere quiet!"
"I know a cabin. It's quiet a long way," Crawford told the others. Once, in what seemed many lives ago, he had planned to take Schuldig there. A break alone together. Before he'd started to question their relationship. Before he'd started to question Tanya and Tash and their plans. Before Schuldig left them forever. Perhaps the three of them could hide out up there, there was plenty of food…
"…there's plenty of fuel, we can last…" Crawford frowned and strengthened his shields. As they left Tokyo behind and the roads became less densely crowded more and more of Nagi and Farfarello were getting through. They were both upset as it was; they didn't need his own morbid train of thought basted out in a nasal German accent… No. The accent was gone. It was Schuldig's accent, but his mouth could make any number of sounds. Still his voice though.
It was a long drive.
* * *
The Beamer struggled up the last of the track, which he grown considerably rougher since the last time Brad was there, over a decade ago. He coaxed the overstressed car over potholes and rubble until it rested in front of a sturdy looking western-style cottage.
Crawford lifted Schuldig's body from the car and carried it up to the front door. Nagi and Farfarello followed silently. Crawford reached into his pocket and winced.
"Keys," Schuldig blurted out.
Nagi's eyes widened. It wasn't like Crawford to overlook something like that. He wrapped his arms around his slender body. It was cold, with a brisk wind blowing. Farfarello lent his own bodyheat to Nagi, holding the delicate child close to his chest.
Crawford rested Schuldig against the front door and wandered around the small building. Eventually he came across a window a ground level. It was the entry to the pantry. He smashed it with his bare fist. Pain flared in his arm and blood ran from his fingers. It was comforting, in a way. He could still feel then. Not just the emotional numbness that had settled on his during the long drive. The numbness that came with years of practice repressing grief and hate and anything else that might get in the way of his job. But it had started long before Rosenkruez.
Crawford pushed these thoughts from his mind. They were only springing up now because of where he was. His father's cabin. Useless, pointless thoughts. No help whatsoever.
God he missed Schuldig. Schuldig would be able to help.
Crawford leant against the rough wood of the building. They pantry had always bee n locked from the outside. And it would be cold in there anyway. Enough food to last them a month, provided they didn't die of exposure. Shelves and shelves of tins labelled in black marker pen, dried fruit in boxes and powdered milk in cartons.
"Nagi?" he called. Nagi walked unsteadily around the building. His fingers had gone a worrying white, bordering on blue. Shock, exposure, hypothermia, emotional exhaustion… Brad felt a measure of guilt for what he was about to ask Nagi to do.
"The door is locked on the other side. Can you unlock it?"
"What sort of lock?" Nagi bit out as Crawford lifted him through the window.
"There's a bolt, a sliding lock and a key hole. I'm sorry. At least you'll be out of the wind."
Nagi curled into a foetal position against he heavy wooden door, fingers tracing the metal of the locks.
"This will take a while," Nagi murmured. "It would be easier to blow the door off."
"I'd rather not," Crawford told him. "If the door won't open by nightfall we may have to."
"If I can't get it open by nightfall I'm not going to be able to by any method," Nagi warned. Crawford nodded sombrely.
"Eat," he commanded, before walking back to join Farfarello and Schuldig at the front of the building.
Farfarello was sitting in the car again, Schuldig lying across the back seat with his head in Farfarello's lap.
"Didn't want him te get cold," Farfarello explained shortly.
"It's Nagi I'm worried about," Crawford hinted. Farfarello climbed out of the car and obediently went to warm Nagi in the icy pantry.
Crawford climbed into the backseat and lifted Schuldig's head onto his lap. He stroked the fan of orange hair. Schuldig was whispering now, only picking up Farfarello and Nagi. A few hours earlier, he'd have been almost shouting their thoughts. This worried Crawford. Schuldig's power seemed to be fading while Schuldig wasn't there. Once it was gone, Schuldig would be nothing but a vegetable.
Crawford's back arched as a vision hit him.