Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Blackest Sea ❯ He Only Thought He Was Going For The Thrill Of A Ride ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Heta Noitio 
Schuldig has a deja vu and does some serious thinking. Crawford's calm, cool and collected, as always.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Supernatural / | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 03.05.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 259 | Status: Work In Progress
Schuldig has a deja vu and does some serious thinking. Crawford's calm, cool and collected, as always.
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Supernatural / | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 03.05.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 259 | Status: Work In Progress
mm-chan: Thanks! ^^
red gueen: Schuldig's gonna have some serious problems with that, yes. ^^ Thanks for reviewing.
KD Sarge: It's getting weirder, trust me. ^_~ Thanks.
darkephoenix nsi: Thank you. ^^
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Takehito's still. Double-darn.
Chapter Three: He Only Thought He Was Going For The Thrill Of A Ride
His heard hurt. Again. But now his guts were in fire, too. Schuldig groaned and rubbed his eyelids with his hand. If he had known it would hurt this much to return to earth, he might have chosen differently. It was indeed like he had been born again.
Schuldig sighed and let his hand relax, felt it fall off from the bed and hit the carpet.
Wait. The bed? Hadn't he been in the bed when he--
With a startled yelp, the German jumped out of his bed and backed to the wall. The sight that greeted him wasn't one of the nicest ones one could see when coming back.
His own body was on the bed. He was dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans - he could remember throwing those on once he had decided to go clubbing but went harassing Brad instead. He didn't look any different from alive person on a first sight, but then one could see he was dead. Very dead, as his eyes were glassy and his skin was white and almost transparent. Schuldig saw his own face and its congealed, horrible grin.
I look like a fucking clown, he thought. This is fantastic.
Suddenly his door opened. Schuldig turned his head and saw Crawford peeking in, his black hair neatly combed. "Schuldig, wake up, it's almost midday!" He saw the American frowning when he didn't answer.
How in the hell could I answer, I'm fucking dead!
"Schuldig?" Crawford's voice was lower when he cautiously approached the bed.
The precog was used to seeing dead people, Schuldig knew. He wasn't surprised when Crawford first mechanically tried his pulse and then touched his cheek. Crawford's fingers looked almost tanned against his white skin, though Schuldig knew his skin was - had used to be - slightly darker than the other man's.
"He's been dead for hours", Crawford murmured to himself. "But why?" he straightened his back and sighed, lifting his other hand to his own forehead. "Schuldig, you idiot... Why did you always annoy me when you knew I would just dismiss you? What was the point?"
Now Schuldig was surprised. He hadn't thought Brad to be one of those people who talked to the dead. Apparently he was, since he was talking to Schuldig. And had no idea that his team mate actually heard him.
Schuldig took two steps towards Crawford. He was almost standing behind the man. If he'd just reach he could touch him... But he couldn't. He didn't really want to 'fade away'.
And besides, he didn't want to miss this opportunity to screw around.
"... and now you finally managed to kill yourself."
Annoyed by himself, Schuldig backed up a bit and out of habit tried to read Crawford's well-shielded thoughts. Only this time it felt like there were no shields at all. The telepath's eyes widened when he easily found out that Brad had been complaining about his habit of using amphetamine occasionally. Now the American wondered how he could pass the news to Nagi.
He's actually concerned? Schuldig snorted and got closer to his bed, peering his body around Crawford. He noticed that the man had closed his eyes - a good thing, he had looked really creepy with that grin and eyes wide open - and was still caressing his cheek. Whattaa...
"Crawford, is he... Oh my God!"
Schuldig spun around at the same time when Crawford snatched his hands back to himself.
Nagi had come to the door and clasped a hand on his mouth. "Is he... He is, isn't he?" The boy looked at Schuldig's body and took a cautious step forward. Then he froze. "He's dead... Why?" The telekinetic sounded hollow, his hand dropping to hang limply on his side.
"Drugs", Crawford explained, his annoyance radiating from him. "Amphetamine, I think. Overdose." He watched Schuldig's lifeless corpse as if waiting for him to jump up and yell, "Ha, got you guys!"
Schuldig snickered silently at the thought. He would have done something like that.
Nagi made a strangled sound and leaned on the door frame. Schuldig looked at him and felt bad, somehow. He hadn't wanted to upset Nagi, he really liked the kid at times. But some things you just couldn't avoid when accidentally killing yourself and this was one of them. The little voice in the back of his head that told him he could have left the amphetamine to the dealer's hands, was quickly silenced.
Crawford saw Nagi shaking and moved to him. Schuldig frowned a little when the precog touched Nagi's shoulder. Nagi didn't say anything, he just wrapped his arms around Crawford's middle and buried his head in his chest, shaking becoming uncontrolled. When Schuldig peeked into his mind, biting his bottom lip, overwhelming grief washed over him.
Gods, if he had known he would cause something like this! Schuldig shook his head and steeled himself, his lips tightening to a grim ghost of one of his usual smirks. He was dead, he had decided to stay here. Time to go on with it.
He slipped out of the door and moved down the hall. He was walking towards Farfarello's room but noticed that the Irish madman was gone. He could still hear Crawford softly speaking, trying to calm Nagi down. The entire apartment was shaking a little bit - the whole block probably was, outsiders would think it was just a small earthquake. Schuldig knew what caused it, and he wanted out.
*
People on the street looked busy, hurrying forward with their cars and blaring horns. Though it was nearing one past morning, the streets were full.
Schuldig walked along them, avoiding touching other people and being too... noticeable. It didn't really matter if it was crowded and he bumped into someone, but if it would be a little looser, people would get suspicious. One didn't really want a bunch of Japanese people starting to walk around and swing their hands all over the place. When he found an empty bench in a nearby park, he sat on it and grinned slightly. Time to test his abilities.
He reached out, slowly testing his environment. He didn't hear all the people at the same time, but he could pick up the person whose thoughts he wanted to pry on. It was like having his own talent back, but a lot, lot better one. Stronger. He couldn't control people, though, but this was enough to amuse him for a while.
After he had found out that the chief of the police was leading some kind of an anti-terrorist organization and was in love with his secretary, that Farfarello was on the borders of the town, attacking an almost abandoned church and that a stand-up comedienne had a show on the other side of the park, a short woman in neat, business-like clothes caught his attention.
She was standing across the road, a little left from Schuldig. She looked nervous and glanced around every once in a while. It was as if she was looking, or waiting, for someone. When the redhead read her thoughts, he snorted inapprovingly.
The woman was waiting for his ex-husband to bring their kids; it was her turn to have them for the weekend. Their divorce process had been long and messy and the court had granted the custody of the children to their father. True, she had had a drug-problem in her past, but she didn't use anything anymore.
Anyhow, her husband had used that fact as a weapon against her shamelessly. He had won, and she missed her beautiful twin girls a lot. She loved them, and still loved their father. The man had been very charming when they had met the first time and she had fallen for him head over heels.
Suddenly the woman straightened herself and looked a lot more alert. A broad-shouldered man was coming closer with two girls dressed in red clothes and carrying small bags. They screamed happily when they saw their mother and run to her waiting arms.The man, her former husband, stopped and just watched the kids hug their mother and babble about this and that.
After a short visit in his head Schuldig found out his anger towards the woman - whatever it had been - had died a long time ago and that he, too, still loved her strongly and sometimes silently wondered if they could start all over again. But he believed that her ex-wife hated him and could barely stand him. His idiocy almost made Schuldig groan out loud and bang his head on a nearby tree.
However, the German didn't do that: he only shook his head at their thoughts, sighing. You should use your time well, he found himself thinking. You never know when it's all wasted. The thought made Schuldig freeze and his eyes open wide.
Was that how he really thought about this all? Or was it just a backlash from Nagi's angsting? He wasn't sure at all and it unnerved him greatly.
Okay, he was dead but wasn't really gone. It wasn't like he couldn't still do fun things, like clubbing and dancing and all that. He couldn't speak with anyone though, but when had he needed other people? He had always walked his own ways, followed what or who he wanted: why not now choose a path all his own? He could travel the world for all the eternity.
But what when he'd have seen all the places on the earth? Surely he couldn't fly and go check if there really lived little green men in Mars, that wasn't one of the bonuses in being a dead person. He had to admit that li-- death would become boring, eventually.
Because all the eternity he had.
All for himself.
Alone.
Schuldig had been surrounded by other minds all his life, he had eventually gotten used to it. He felt suddenly oddly insecure, staring a little wildly at all the strangers' faces, passing him quickly, never stopping, always leaving him on his own.
Not making a sound in his head. Like ghosts.
"Fuck this", he whispered aloud and swallowed, "fuck this..." He almost ran all the way back to the Schwarz resident, the one place he had ever considered safe. Only when he reached the door, swung it open before and slammed closed after himself, his habitual breathing begun to calm down.
- end of chapter three.
red gueen: Schuldig's gonna have some serious problems with that, yes. ^^ Thanks for reviewing.
KD Sarge: It's getting weirder, trust me. ^_~ Thanks.
darkephoenix nsi: Thank you. ^^
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Takehito's still. Double-darn.
Chapter Three: He Only Thought He Was Going For The Thrill Of A Ride
His heard hurt. Again. But now his guts were in fire, too. Schuldig groaned and rubbed his eyelids with his hand. If he had known it would hurt this much to return to earth, he might have chosen differently. It was indeed like he had been born again.
Schuldig sighed and let his hand relax, felt it fall off from the bed and hit the carpet.
Wait. The bed? Hadn't he been in the bed when he--
With a startled yelp, the German jumped out of his bed and backed to the wall. The sight that greeted him wasn't one of the nicest ones one could see when coming back.
His own body was on the bed. He was dressed in a white, long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans - he could remember throwing those on once he had decided to go clubbing but went harassing Brad instead. He didn't look any different from alive person on a first sight, but then one could see he was dead. Very dead, as his eyes were glassy and his skin was white and almost transparent. Schuldig saw his own face and its congealed, horrible grin.
I look like a fucking clown, he thought. This is fantastic.
Suddenly his door opened. Schuldig turned his head and saw Crawford peeking in, his black hair neatly combed. "Schuldig, wake up, it's almost midday!" He saw the American frowning when he didn't answer.
How in the hell could I answer, I'm fucking dead!
"Schuldig?" Crawford's voice was lower when he cautiously approached the bed.
The precog was used to seeing dead people, Schuldig knew. He wasn't surprised when Crawford first mechanically tried his pulse and then touched his cheek. Crawford's fingers looked almost tanned against his white skin, though Schuldig knew his skin was - had used to be - slightly darker than the other man's.
"He's been dead for hours", Crawford murmured to himself. "But why?" he straightened his back and sighed, lifting his other hand to his own forehead. "Schuldig, you idiot... Why did you always annoy me when you knew I would just dismiss you? What was the point?"
Now Schuldig was surprised. He hadn't thought Brad to be one of those people who talked to the dead. Apparently he was, since he was talking to Schuldig. And had no idea that his team mate actually heard him.
Schuldig took two steps towards Crawford. He was almost standing behind the man. If he'd just reach he could touch him... But he couldn't. He didn't really want to 'fade away'.
And besides, he didn't want to miss this opportunity to screw around.
"... and now you finally managed to kill yourself."
Annoyed by himself, Schuldig backed up a bit and out of habit tried to read Crawford's well-shielded thoughts. Only this time it felt like there were no shields at all. The telepath's eyes widened when he easily found out that Brad had been complaining about his habit of using amphetamine occasionally. Now the American wondered how he could pass the news to Nagi.
He's actually concerned? Schuldig snorted and got closer to his bed, peering his body around Crawford. He noticed that the man had closed his eyes - a good thing, he had looked really creepy with that grin and eyes wide open - and was still caressing his cheek. Whattaa...
"Crawford, is he... Oh my God!"
Schuldig spun around at the same time when Crawford snatched his hands back to himself.
Nagi had come to the door and clasped a hand on his mouth. "Is he... He is, isn't he?" The boy looked at Schuldig's body and took a cautious step forward. Then he froze. "He's dead... Why?" The telekinetic sounded hollow, his hand dropping to hang limply on his side.
"Drugs", Crawford explained, his annoyance radiating from him. "Amphetamine, I think. Overdose." He watched Schuldig's lifeless corpse as if waiting for him to jump up and yell, "Ha, got you guys!"
Schuldig snickered silently at the thought. He would have done something like that.
Nagi made a strangled sound and leaned on the door frame. Schuldig looked at him and felt bad, somehow. He hadn't wanted to upset Nagi, he really liked the kid at times. But some things you just couldn't avoid when accidentally killing yourself and this was one of them. The little voice in the back of his head that told him he could have left the amphetamine to the dealer's hands, was quickly silenced.
Crawford saw Nagi shaking and moved to him. Schuldig frowned a little when the precog touched Nagi's shoulder. Nagi didn't say anything, he just wrapped his arms around Crawford's middle and buried his head in his chest, shaking becoming uncontrolled. When Schuldig peeked into his mind, biting his bottom lip, overwhelming grief washed over him.
Gods, if he had known he would cause something like this! Schuldig shook his head and steeled himself, his lips tightening to a grim ghost of one of his usual smirks. He was dead, he had decided to stay here. Time to go on with it.
He slipped out of the door and moved down the hall. He was walking towards Farfarello's room but noticed that the Irish madman was gone. He could still hear Crawford softly speaking, trying to calm Nagi down. The entire apartment was shaking a little bit - the whole block probably was, outsiders would think it was just a small earthquake. Schuldig knew what caused it, and he wanted out.
*
People on the street looked busy, hurrying forward with their cars and blaring horns. Though it was nearing one past morning, the streets were full.
Schuldig walked along them, avoiding touching other people and being too... noticeable. It didn't really matter if it was crowded and he bumped into someone, but if it would be a little looser, people would get suspicious. One didn't really want a bunch of Japanese people starting to walk around and swing their hands all over the place. When he found an empty bench in a nearby park, he sat on it and grinned slightly. Time to test his abilities.
He reached out, slowly testing his environment. He didn't hear all the people at the same time, but he could pick up the person whose thoughts he wanted to pry on. It was like having his own talent back, but a lot, lot better one. Stronger. He couldn't control people, though, but this was enough to amuse him for a while.
After he had found out that the chief of the police was leading some kind of an anti-terrorist organization and was in love with his secretary, that Farfarello was on the borders of the town, attacking an almost abandoned church and that a stand-up comedienne had a show on the other side of the park, a short woman in neat, business-like clothes caught his attention.
She was standing across the road, a little left from Schuldig. She looked nervous and glanced around every once in a while. It was as if she was looking, or waiting, for someone. When the redhead read her thoughts, he snorted inapprovingly.
The woman was waiting for his ex-husband to bring their kids; it was her turn to have them for the weekend. Their divorce process had been long and messy and the court had granted the custody of the children to their father. True, she had had a drug-problem in her past, but she didn't use anything anymore.
Anyhow, her husband had used that fact as a weapon against her shamelessly. He had won, and she missed her beautiful twin girls a lot. She loved them, and still loved their father. The man had been very charming when they had met the first time and she had fallen for him head over heels.
Suddenly the woman straightened herself and looked a lot more alert. A broad-shouldered man was coming closer with two girls dressed in red clothes and carrying small bags. They screamed happily when they saw their mother and run to her waiting arms.The man, her former husband, stopped and just watched the kids hug their mother and babble about this and that.
After a short visit in his head Schuldig found out his anger towards the woman - whatever it had been - had died a long time ago and that he, too, still loved her strongly and sometimes silently wondered if they could start all over again. But he believed that her ex-wife hated him and could barely stand him. His idiocy almost made Schuldig groan out loud and bang his head on a nearby tree.
However, the German didn't do that: he only shook his head at their thoughts, sighing. You should use your time well, he found himself thinking. You never know when it's all wasted. The thought made Schuldig freeze and his eyes open wide.
Was that how he really thought about this all? Or was it just a backlash from Nagi's angsting? He wasn't sure at all and it unnerved him greatly.
Okay, he was dead but wasn't really gone. It wasn't like he couldn't still do fun things, like clubbing and dancing and all that. He couldn't speak with anyone though, but when had he needed other people? He had always walked his own ways, followed what or who he wanted: why not now choose a path all his own? He could travel the world for all the eternity.
But what when he'd have seen all the places on the earth? Surely he couldn't fly and go check if there really lived little green men in Mars, that wasn't one of the bonuses in being a dead person. He had to admit that li-- death would become boring, eventually.
Because all the eternity he had.
All for himself.
Alone.
Schuldig had been surrounded by other minds all his life, he had eventually gotten used to it. He felt suddenly oddly insecure, staring a little wildly at all the strangers' faces, passing him quickly, never stopping, always leaving him on his own.
Not making a sound in his head. Like ghosts.
"Fuck this", he whispered aloud and swallowed, "fuck this..." He almost ran all the way back to the Schwarz resident, the one place he had ever considered safe. Only when he reached the door, swung it open before and slammed closed after himself, his habitual breathing begun to calm down.
- end of chapter three.