Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Standing Outside the Fire ❯ 24 ( Chapter 24 )

24

 

I will show you something different from either

Your shadow at morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

 

::Does he have to sit here?::

 

::Shut up and move over.:: Donley shoved the other telepath down a space on the bench, clearing room for me.

 

I set my tray down and settled onto the hard seat. The other boys at the table watched me as if they thought I might sprout a second head or something.

 

Donley and the boy beside him continued their discussion, Donley's mental voice fading in and out against the other's clear whine. I nudged Don in the ribs. “Your friend's projecting.”

 

Donley gaped at me. “You heard that?”

 

“Yeah, I heard that,” I replied, aggravated. It was enough to know that the other kids thought I was just this side of crazy without having to hear random thoughts on the subject. “Tell him to forget about the bet, he's gonna lose.”

 

A soft chorus of “oooooh!” went up around me as the other young blue-shirts rounded on the telepath in question. His face flushed scarlet.

 

I picked at my food and muttered, “You want the inside scoop, come to the source. I'm not out of the game yet.”

 

Jaxon Norwood leaned around Donley and offered his hand. I already knew his name, because in those few moments I'd Seen his introduction. “I didn't mean to piss you off, Crawford. Jaxon Norwood, fourth year.”

 

I shook his hand and smiled. He would either die in the next year or graduate into field work, or transfer to the Berlin medical corps. His future was not written yet. This did not make me feel any better.

 

I allowed Donley to bring his friends and associates into my life, with the understanding that I wasn't interested in anything more than conversation. The way I kept losing time, I wanted all the possible anchors and reference points I could get. I did not want physical complications. There was already too much potential for that every time I visited my mentor.

 

As April swallowed the last of winter's frost, it took my time sense with it again. Visions of towers and fire haunted my days, dreams of combat and despair haunted my nights. Rachelle's favorite poem flowed in uneven waves through my thoughts, weaving dream and vision together in molten waves.

 

April.

 

Something terrible will happen, and I will be powerless to stop it.

 

No. I will be part of its cause.

 

“You sure I shouldn't just up the wager?” Jaxon stage-whispered, or projected, or shouted to Donley. I really couldn't tell the difference today.

 

Today? I looked at my watch.

 

March twenty-third.

 

I had all of April to re-live again.

 

“Crawford!”

 

I woke on Frau Sheffield's couch.

 

“Stay still, Crawford.” She gazed down into my eyes, a frown line creasing her forehead. “Do you know the date?”

 

My blood ran cold. I struggled to sit up, to see my watch, to fling myself out the window.

 

“Easy, Bradley. Don't try to move yet.”

 

I couldn't breathe.

 

Time had swallowed me whole. Hole. I had fallen down the rabbit hole…

 

The unmistakable sharp stink of an ammonia capsule brought me back to the present. I reeled back as my nose burned and my eyes watered.

 

Please don't ask me if I know the date, or the year, or my name. My name. Bradley Michael Crawford. I'm 15 years old. I think.

 

Telepaths lose their names.

 

I am not a telepath.

 

Why do I feel lost?

 

Donley held me as I wept, and every time I begged him to tell me the date, he repeated, “April eighth, 1989.”

 

 

 

A/N:

I will show you something different from either

Your shadow at morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

 

“The Waste Land” - T.S. Eliot

 

There isn't much I can add here, so I'll leave you to your own thoughts.