Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Standing Outside the Fire ❯ 26 ( Chapter 26 )

 

26

 

It's the nexus of the crisis

And the origin of storms

Just the place to hopelessly

Encounter time, and then came…

 

It's him.

 

The boy stood at the far corner where two corridors meet, his shoulder against the wall. His light gray jacket lay open and rumpled, the red t-shirt beneath clinging to his chest. Dark wavy hair spilled across his neck as he turned his head to look behind him.

 

Fear closed my throat, making it hard to breathe. This could be very bad. Frau Sheffield had gone out of her way to warn me not to make any enemies. Though I'd Seen this boy in my visions, I realized suddenly that I never had any context for him. There was no evidence at all that he would be anything other than dangerous to me.

 

I had to get out of there, and fast. I took a halting step backward, then another, never taking my eyes off him.

 

He turned and looked right at me, his eyes dark and crafty, and he began to move. Toward me. “Hey, kid,” he called softly, his long legs making short work of the distance between us. “You a telepath? Never mind. Come on!” Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and hauled me along at a run. A corner of my mind noted that he'd turned me around and we were running back the way I'd come, down a flight of stairs - damn, so I HAD missed them! - and back out into another corridor.

 

The rest of my mind whirled and spun, throwing visions like sparks too fast to see. Dizziness almost took me under as I Saw my own legs and feet running down a different flight of stairs, fire and smoke seeping into the stairwell from above. I am wearing white, not gray, when I flee the first tower…

 

The soft click of a door brought me back to the present. I looked around, trying to get my bearings. It didn't help. I was in one of those classrooms that had been turned into storage for extra desks and the like. The room was an almost impassable maze of furniture; my claustrophobia trembled at the edge of control, startling a bark of nervous laughter from me as I tried not to lose it.

 

“Shut up!” the older boy hissed.

 

In my momentary panic I'd forgotten I wasn't alone. “You don't know who I am, do you? You can't do this to me!” I tried to seem as imposing as possible, which wasn't much in spite of Sheffield's promises of safety. Anything could happen here, with no witnesses and no escape. My heart pounded with fear as I realized the older boy had locked the door - I was trapped. Reason overrode ego; I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, intending to try to bargain with him, when I heard the echo of running footsteps on the stairs. We both stood there in silence until they passed. It sounded like they went up instead of down, so I took the moment to try and sort things out. “Who are you hiding from?”

 

The red-shirted boy peeked out the little window set in the door, then stage-whispered, “It's none of your concern.” Even muffled, his voice carried a distinct Spanish sort of accent, surprising in this sterile place.

 

“Then why did you kidnap me?” The words flew out on their own, fueled by fear and adrenalin. Rather than admit it was a stupid thing to say, I plunged in deeper, ready to sic the Elders themselves on him if need be. “You shouldn't have done that. I'm very important to some very powerful people. You're going to be in a lot of trouble -”

 

“I know who you are.” He flashed me a wolfish grin, bright against dark, before turning back toward the window. “You're The Precog.”

 

The way he said it, I could hear the capital letters like a title. I puffed up a little, hoping he knew just what that meant. “That's right, so you'd better -”

 

“Do you See anything?”

 

He cut me off - twice! Who does this joker think he is? Angry indignation boiled over. I gave a disgusted snort and folded my arms across my chest. “You're the one at the window, you tell me.”

 

The red-shirted boy blinked, tilted his head a little as if trying to make sense of my words before turning to look directly at me.

 

I swallowed nervously, convinced that my big mouth had just signed my death warrant.

 

But then he laughed, a soft and warm kind of laugh that sounded genuinely surprised. “No,” he murmured, “I meant…” and he tapped the side of his head.

 

“No, I don't See anything,” I grumbled. “Look, you really are going to be in trouble if you don't let me out of here right now.” Something about the situation had all my alarms going off at once, and the internal noise was deafening. I was in over my head, and I didn't even know how I'd gotten into this mess. One wrong turn…

 

[…your future is at a crossroads, and your choice has not yet been made…]

 

“Ah, shit, they're coming back! Get away from the door!” Moving fast, the guy turned and pinned me to the wall, effectively blocking me from sight. Anyone looking in the window would see nothing but shadows and the shadow-gray back of his jacket.

 

For several moments, for an eternity, we stood there, neither of us moving. Cherry black eyes bored into mine, gleaming like embers at midnight.

 

Then the panic won. He was too close, there wasn't enough air… “Well, why don't you just let me out of here?” I asked. My voice sounded whiny, almost begging. “I won't tell anybody, I swear it!” I heard myself getting louder, fueled by a growing terror. In the dim light, with this boy almost pressing me to the wall, the room seemed to draw in and shrink.

 

The boy glared at me, his eyes hot. “Shut up, will you?” he snarled. “I think they're still out there.”

 

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, hoping against hope that I could get out of here before my claustrophobia made me suicidally stupid. “Just let me go! It'd be better for both of us, right? I have cigarettes, and aspirin! And a hall p-”

 

“For God's sake, shut up!” With decisive force, he pressed his lips to mine, silencing me neatly…and setting my future in stone.

 

Reality exploded, flying apart like springs and clockworks that had been wound too tightly.

 

running across the tarmac, it's not time, must stall -

red hair, frantic tears, it's all right, it's all right -

little child, too small, lifting him like he weighs nothing, holding him close though he is filthy against a spotless tailored suit -

screaming tires and gunshots -

black swans on sunset waves -

bootlegger turn on a narrow mountain highway, windshield shot out, a German battle cry…

 

My God!

 

Frantic, I pushed at the boy's chest: I had to get him off me before I drowned!

 

He staggered back a couple of steps, his impossible eyes almost black and his breathing shaky. One hand reached out to me as if imploring me to stay.

 

I rushed for the door, fear for my sanity overwhelming all else and driving me to the edge of reason. Never had my gift surged like that, without stealing time or leaving pain behind. No, this time it had risen and crashed around me like the sea, oh not the sea please not again -!

 

My feet tangled up with his and I felt myself falling - falling, why do I expect a splash? But it wasn't a splash, it was a thump as we hit the floor and I landed on top of him, pulled there by strong, protective arms. He cradled my head in his hands, and he made no sound of complaint though he had landed hard on his hip and shoulder.

 

“You all right?” he gasped, searching my face for the answer.

 

I stared down at him, my mind reeling. He…he caught me. He would always catch me. “Yes,” I whispered. “I'm all right.” For some reason I didn't really care to move just yet. Instead, I just lay sprawled across this strange young man, feeling the echo of his heartbeat within my own ribs.

 

I could have stayed there forever. In a way, I think I did.

 

He gazed up at me, his dark eyes filled with wonder. Did he know what he had done to me? For I knew without doubting that the burst of Sight, that wild, unstoppable explosion like the birth of stars, had somehow come from him.

 

Moving as though checking himself for broken parts, he rolled us over so I was on my back on the floor. He crouched over me, his eyes never leaving mine. I could taste the scent of him, vital and alive and redolent of canvas and sweat. Calloused fingers brushed my cheek, then slipped my glasses off and set them carefully aside. My mind whirled; the breath caught in my throat as the Sight seemed to coil back on itself and wait for another invitation to dance.

 

As from a great distance I Saw the boys who had chased him here giving up and returning to their usual haunts. The building would soon be empty, except for the two of us. I had taken a wrong turn, and found that which I had been searching for all along.

 

And so had he.

 

He studied my face and murmured, “You know, you really are kind of cute,” as if that was the greatest compliment in the world. His softly rolling accent made the words sound like a prayer, and the awkward blush that darkened his cheeks declared an emotion he had no words for. “And, you have beautiful eyes.”

 

This surprised me, as I'd never thought of them as anything other than brown.

 

He swallowed, seemed to blink back tears; his lips parted and sipped at my breath as though it were the last thing he would ever taste.

 

We met in the middle, in a clumsy, hurried kiss. My arms lifted to wrap around his back, clinging to the solidness of him. I moaned against his mouth as my back arched, bringing my belly up against his, and only his powerful arms kept us both from crashing to the floor as visions cartwheeled through my head, leaving behind chaos hints in gossamer but no solid evidence of their passing. Black car, white suit, red hair, blue eyes. Moments - people - lifetimes - possibilities flashed into existence, then scattered.

 

Somehow, impossibly, this older boy had turned me into a precognitive lightning rod.

 

I clung to this strange boy, this young man who trembled above me. I didn't believe in souls, but I knew him, I know him! Tears spilled from my eyes, and low animal sounds came from deep inside me as I watched everything I thought I understood fly right out of existence to be replaced with the deepest wonder in the world.

 

We are one. Somehow, we are one. Bodies are so cumbersome, compared to the untethered spirit… Were these his thoughts? It didn't matter. In the mad desperation of the moment, we had collided and found each other here, in this place of the damned. Only together could we claim our destiny.

 

I couldn't think clearly. The Sight boiled inside me, pulled toward this mysterious youth like the tide rising at the call of moon. It showed me giving myself to this young man, joining with him physically in an echo of a greater union I couldn't comprehend. It resonated, profound and…sacred. Yes, sacred - now I understand what that word means! - and when the dark boy pulled back from the kiss, I knew.

 

There should be a bed for this, a field of flowers at the very least, but we are here, and we have not yet been missed. We are alone and safe for the moment. It will have to be enough.

 

My hands slid up under his t-shirt to glide over the sweat-slick muscles of his back, recognizing every curve and plane. He didn't move as I explored him, though as my fingers traced the contours of his belly he closed his eyes and let a soft moan pass between kiss-warmed lips.

 

When my hands unfastened his belt and his pants, his hips lurched forward and he gasped. The tips of my fingers found him aroused and straining at his underwear. Gently, reverently, I pushed the fabric down, freeing him. This is so familiar, so right…there is nothing about this boy that could ever hurt me…and everything meant to set me free.

 

The feeling of already knowing him in every possible way only intensified as I wrapped my hand around him and squeezed.

 

What am I doing? For a moment fear and common sense rose up in me, begging me to reconsider as Sheffield's warning echoed in my head. Then the red-shirted boy opened his eyes and smiled down at me, bright against dark, and I remembered him all over again. I felt myself smile back at him as I unfastened my own belt and trousers, my face growing hot as I slid my pants down for him. I had never offered myself to anyone before, but somehow I had never wanted anything so much as this.

 

His hands were warm, trailing gentle fire up my legs where his fingers passed. The more he touched me, with lips, hands, fingers, the more the visions responded, and my body with them. I whimpered against his mouth, I rose up into his hand, the Sight rose up -

 

violet eyes, the crimson swordsman -

gold eyes, the essence of chaos -

blue eyes, laughing -

 

Coal-bright eyes, midnight embers, the spirit of fire gazed down upon me, an echo of my visions dancing in his eyes. I stared up at him, dumbstruck. He stopped them! How did he -? Never wavering, his eyes searched mine for signs of pain as he pushed into me, spit-slick and hot. He bit his lip as desire and restraint pulled him apart, wanting to move faster but not allowing himself to do so.

 

How could I tell him that it didn't hurt?

 

I arched up again and caught his wounded lip between my own, freeing it from his teeth and sucking gently at the swollen flesh.

 

He moaned softly against my mouth, the sound barely more than a whisper and yet its meaning so very plain.

 

I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled our bodies together as tight as they could get. Closer, I want him closer…

 

He drank my breath, drawing me out of myself and into the brightness of him as his body began the ancient rhythm of sex, claiming me with all the strength and grace of an angel constrained to mortal form.

 

The Sight slipped free once more, but gently, and as powerful as fate. Reality bent, warping into a mosaic of possibilities that, for one brilliant moment, I could almost touch.

 

I Saw the swordsman, and fire, and a hundred other things that WILL come to pass, these WILL be real, I WILL walk in those places and escape the burning tower three times and at my side shall be the son who is not my own and my beloved wife who is not a woman and the man who is vengeance made flesh, and together we shall hold the sword of destiny in our hands…

 

Confusion and joy danced through me, toppling the wild visions and anchoring me to nothing more solid than the west wind. I bit down on the boy's lip to keep all sound inside me as a shattering climax tossed me into the very center of the storm.

 

“Hey, kid…”

Warm, honest laughter

The smile, bright against dark

“I forgot to give you something.”

“Que horas são?”

A promise never to be broken

“Bradley, look at me.”

 

Time paused, stretched, then put itself back together, though somehow changed.

 

He maintained eye contact as he pulled back, only looking away to hand me my trousers. As he stood, he smiled at me, bright against dark. He looked thoughtful, rumpled, and a little tired.

 

He looked perfect.

 

The older boy glanced down, then bent and picked up my glasses from the floor. More graceful than a guy his size had any right to be, he knelt in front of me and gently slid my glasses into place. He looked like he wanted to kiss me again. But instead he rose and went back over to the door. He peeked out the window. “So, do you See anything?”

 

“No,” I replied, feeling mischievous, “you're hogging the view.”

 

He laughed out loud, a wonderful rich laugh that promised many more to follow it. “That's not what I mean,” he murmured, his voice as warm as the rest of him.

 

I had to laugh too, then just smiled at him as I joined him by the door. His eyes took on a soft depth I had never seen before; I didn't know eyes could be so deep. “It's okay,” I replied, trying not to lose sight of the question. “You'll get back to your dorm all right.”

 

“What about you?” he asked, gently tucking my hall pass into my jacket.

 

“I'll be fine,” I told him. “I've Seen both of us safe in our beds tonight.”

 

He regarded me with that same warm smile and asked, “What's your name?”

 

“Bradley,” I told him. “Bradley Crawford.”

 

“Bradley, huh?” The sound of my name rolled across his tongue like candy. “Well, Bradley, we'll see each other again.” Still smiling, he tugged the door open and vanished down the hallway.

 

As I hurried off toward my own room, I felt like I was flying.

 

And I didn't even know his name.

 

 

26

It's the nexus of the crisis

And the origin of storms

Just the place to hopelessly

Encounter time, and then came…

 

“Astronomy” - Blue Öyster Cult Secret Treaties

 

*just smiles…*