Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Zweiter Chancen ❯ Schwartz ( Chapter 15 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

*****15*****


Routine. Habit. That old familiar feeling of being apart of something that is apart of nothing. That is what it feels like when a member of Schwartz comes back from the dead.

Schuldrich wasn’t dead, of course, only sleeping, buried inside a shell that used to be who he was through and through. Not dead, but brought back to a time when life was simple and he didn’t have as many ghosts banging on his door. But now...Schuldrich is back.

So it would seem.

With a full bag of claimed possessions over his shoulder, Schu slips in through the back door of Schwartz’s hideout. The back door is also the basement door, leading to a damp, dark, and very narrow hallway. At the end of the hallway is a fork - turn right: Farfarello’s cell; turn left: the main part of the house. Neither choice carries much appeal at the moment.

Schuldrich walks slowly, practically dragging his feet, unsure exactly how he should interact with his teammates if they happen to cross his path. They had all been there when he awoke the night before, all with their own accusations and expectations, but in the end it was all brushed aside to make it easier for life to return to the way it was.

Nagi is quiet and aloof, Brad is harsh-tempered and severe, and Farfarello is...

Where is Farfarello...?

Coming to the fork in the road, Schu tilts his head down the corridor to Farf’s room. It is completely black, making it impossible for him to even see an inch in front of his face. A small step forward brings him into the corridor itself, but the second his other foot follows, he is suddenly spun. Before he can even catch a breath, he is slammed up against the nearest wall, held in place by a chilling grip on his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Schu barks, squinting through the veil of darkness to make out Farfarello’s stonecold face. “Let go, Farf. It’s just me.”

The eerily placid Irishman gives no answer, continuing to hold Schu in place, with scarred fingers wrapped around the red-head’s throat, though not tight enough to cause *much* discomfort.

“Are you blind?” Schuldrich sneers, his bag long forgotten on the cold floor as he paws with both hands to loosen Farfarello’s grip. “Last I checked you still had one good eye, so why don’t you use it and get the fuck off me?!”

Farfie leans in close, boring that one good eye straight through Schuldrich as it looks him over. Curiously, he breathes Schuldrich in once getting close enough, and doesn’t seem to like what he has found. “You have their scent all over you.” the albino comments at last, not bothering to move away when he finally releases Schu from his grasp. “Why?”

“I picked up my stuff, okay?” Schu grunts back, smoothing out the collar of his shirt, and reaching down to retrieve his lost bag. “What do you care? I’m back, aren’t I? Not that it makes much difference to you. You would’ve been just as happy killing the kid as you are having me back.”

“That’s not...entirely true.” Farfarello breathes, following Schuldrich back into the light of the main hallway. “How did you know what I was planning to do?”

Schuldrich doesn’t answer aloud, but offers a dull smirk as he taps the side of his head.

“Aa.” Farfie replies. “You always know, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Even if I don’t want to.”

“Are you angry?”

“Would you really have killed me if I was still the kid?”

“Yes.” comes the straight forward answer, with no holding back and no hesitation.

Schuldrich isn’t the least bit surprised. “Would you have missed me?”

“...yes.” A slight hesitation, but not because the answer is a lie. Because the answer is the truth.

“No, I’m not angry. We are who we are, right, Farf?”

Accepting the red-head’s genuine smile, Farfarello almost smiles back, but the expression gets lost somewhere along the way, as it often does, and he merely stares at his...friend...happy to have him home again.

“I’ll come back down and keep you company later, okay?” Schu winks, turning down the other corridor to head upstairs. “Just don’t gnaw through anything expensive till I get back.”

The smile Schuldrich had flashed falls away the moment he turns from Farfarello. It *had* been genuine, as rare as it is for him to smile in any way other than a smirk, but it didn’t know how to linger any longer without becoming fake.

“Where have you been?”

Schuldrich reluctantly freezes, half-way to his room when this darkly demanding voice calls to him, and under the foolish impression that he was about to make it the entire way without getting stopped.

“You were ordered to let me know the next time you planned on leaving the grounds. Or did you forget?”

Excruciatingly slow, Schuldrich turns around, coming face to face with a very annoyed Brad Crawford. “I didn’t forget. I just didn’t feel like telling you.”

“Schuldrich -”

“Can it, Brad.” Schu boldly interrupts. “I don’t want to hear another lecture. I got enough of that last night.”

If recent events weren’t already enough, such insubordination is the final straw. “That is quite enough. From now on, I will no longer be accepting this kind of behavior. You *will* do as you are told. Understood?”

“Whatever.” Schu huffs, and pointedly whips back around to head for his room.

A fierce hand on his shoulder spins him back, however, and holds him ruthlessly in place. “You think this is a game? You think I’m going to let you off easy for your betrayal?”

“Betrayal -?”

“Don’t talk. Just listen.” Brad cuts in, looming dangerously over his rapidly weakening teammate. “You tampered with my powers to cover your own worthless ass from how you knew I would react if I found out about your little experiment. Well, I found out anyway. So now you have a little more control. Good for you. I may not know where you were this past week while you recovered from that mess of a spell you threw together, but mark my words, nothing like this is ever going to happen again. Next time you think about going off on your own, with your own agenda, think again. Never forget what you are. You are Schwartz. That, and only that, is where your allegiance lies. Defy me again...and I won’t be so nice about it.”

Brad tosses Schu back, nearly toppling the younger man over, and glares daggers into the amazingly watery blue eyes that glare back at him.

Once Schuldrich regains his balance, the pair remain locked in that shared glare, neither willing to back down. Once again, Schu’s bag has landed on the floor, but he doesn’t reclaim it just yet. There is more that needs to be said.

“You just can’t stand losing control, can you?” he smirks bitterly, taking a brave step forward. “For one moment in your life you didn’t know what was going to happen next, and that scared the shit out of you.”

“That’s enough, Schul -”

“No. It’s *my* turn now.” Another step forward, and the two are once again toe to toe. “Yeah, I went behind your back, and no, I’m not telling you where I was, but even if all I am is Schwartz, I still owe a few other things my allegiance. Like myself. If I want to leave without asking permission, I will. If I want to stay out all night and fuck some nobody’s brains out, I will. If I want to stand up to you one minute and follow your orders the next, I will. That’s the way we’ve always played the game, Bradley. Yeah, I do think this is a game. And unless you plan on making it Game Over for me, these are the terms. Understood?” he adds mockingly, by this time speaking right into Brad’s face, and somehow not showing an ounce of fear.

Brad doesn’t answer, although he does manage to maintain his composure, still staring unwaveringly back into those rebellious, blue eyes.

“Good boy, Bradley.” Schu grins, turning away and scooping his bag up off the floor. “And don’t worry, nothing like what happened is ever going to happen again. Wouldn’t want that stick up your ass to get jammed any further, would we?”

Continuing down the hall, Schuldrich stops in front of his door, knowing full well that Brad has yet to move a muscle.

“By the way...” he calls down the hallway. “...I’d be more careful. You have this bad habit of letting your mental defenses drop when you get really pissed off.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brad snaps, still holding his ground, even if it no longer belongs to him.

“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know...” Schuldrich pauses the tiniest bit, grandly opening his door. “...I missed you, too.” And in the blink of an eye, he disappears inside.

Some things never change.


*****


And some things do. Even if we don’t expect them to. Some things take us by surprise. Sometimes we accept this change, and sometimes we reject it, but sometimes...no matter what we do...we can’t stop it from changing us.

Schuldrich is lying back on his bed, free of his coat, his shoes, and his socks, but still in that blue, button-down shirt, and those dark, grey pants. Why bother dressing for bed? He knows he won’t be getting much sleep any time soon.

Opposite the bed, there is a simple dresser that lies right in his line of sight. It is simple for its purpose - safekeeping folded clothes - but not so simple for what is now sitting on top of it.

Gazing longingly at the only things he had taken out of his bag that hold any meaning, Schuldrich doesn’t feel remorse for stealing such precious mementos. But he doesn’t feel much better about himself for taking them, either.

There is a worn pair of fingerless gloves, a keychain in the shape of a white convertible, and a stuffed, white cat that shows countless signs of being a very beloved toy once upon a time.

Where is the last item? The final, stolen artifact? Being twirled between long, thin fingers as Schu’s gaze drifts from the objects on his dresser to the one in his hands.

How ironic for such a demon to be fascinated by the cross. It isn’t anything special; a simple, silver cross on a simple, silver chain. Nevertheless, it holds something important. Something impossible. It holds...

“...Schuldrich...?”

The German stops his musings, instantly hiding the necklace in a clumsy fist at the sound of that tentative voice. Naoe Nagi has entered his suffocatingly quiet room, and is now shutting the door behind him, intent on sticking around long enough for whatever reason he has come, even if Schuldrich yells at him to get out.

Oddly enough, Schuldrich doesn’t.

“What do you want, kid?” he asks softly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“I...I just wanted to...talk.”

“About what?” Schu presses, clenching his fist as if to make the necklace disappear before Nagi can see it.

Hesitantly, the young boy walks deeper into the room, right up to Schuldrich sitting on the bed, and attempts a very awkward smile. “About...being free.”

Schuldrich doesn’t have to look inside the boy’s mind to know what he means, and he doesn’t want to deal with it. With an exasperated sigh, he rising from the bed and goes to his dresser, tossing the necklace down amongst the other items. Who cares if Nagi sees it? He doesn’t want to be around anyone right now anyway.

“Please...” Nagi whispers, stepping closer to Schuldrich’s turned back and obvious avoidance. “...I want to know what it was like. I know who you were with all this week. I saw you.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw you, too.”

“I didn’t tell him, you know? I didn’t tell him anything.”

“I know that, too. Brad still has no idea where I was.”

“Then you...owe me something...don’t you?”

Schu whips around, startling Nagi at how fast he has moved. “Owe you? What, trying to blackmail me now?”

“No!” Nagi cries in defense, taking a fearful step back. “I just want to know...something...anything...about what it was like to not remember being...what we are. You don’t have to tell me. I won’t tell Crawford the truth either way, I swear. I just...I just...”

“Want to know.” Schu finishes, sighing deeply again, and running a hand through his wild, red hair. “What am I supposed to say, huh? They’re our enemy. It didn’t mean anything and all I want is to forget it ever happened.”

If this answer had come from anyone else, Nagi probably would have accepted it and gone on his way. But this isn’t just anyone, this is Schuldrich. Schuldrich doesn’t have a quietness about him, a sorrow, or even a soul. Whoever this is, however...does.

It doesn’t fit. The answer, or the returned man. Oh, he tries to act the way he was, and he does a damn good job of it, but Nagi has caught him alone and in what appears to be a vulnerable state. He simply cannot let such an opportunity pass him by.

“You’re lying.” Nagi states boldly, standing firm. “I know it meant something. Why else would you take those things?” Gesturing with his delicate chin, Nagi indicates the stolen mementos.

Schu allows his own eyes to rest upon those dear trinkets, and madly searches for a way to explain them. “I wanted to...take something important to them...so they’d remember not to mess with us. You know: attack Schwartz, lose something dear to you?”

Nagi raises a skeptical eyebrow, hardly impressed. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but...that’s bullshit.”

Now it is Schuldrich’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I saw you, remember? I saw how happy you were with them. I’ve never seen you happy before. Sure, you wear a smile practically all the time, but it’s never a real one, it’s just a tool. A trick. But that boy didn’t need any tricks, did he? It was the first time I ever saw you as...you. And I liked him alot better than...this.” Nagi gestures feebly with one of his tiny hands, half-terrified by how straight forward he is allowing himself to be in front of someone he usually avoids completely. “For those few days...you were free. You had a new life, and you were accepted there. You didn’t even have the burden of remembering the person you had been.”

“Yeah, well I remember now.” Schu interrupts, pushing past Nagi to return to the edge of his bed. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like knowing that he is being so obvious in front of Nagi when he should be easing back in to being Schuldrich. It doesn’t make any sense. “I remember...everything. I’m Schwartz, Nagi. We both are. We all are. There’s no coming back from that.”

Nagi can’t accept this answer, not if he is going to continue believing in what he hopes he has found. “For a moment...there was, and you were the one who did it.” he whispers, haltingly lowering himself onto the bed next to his teammate. “You could go back to them. I know they’d accept you again.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Schu whirls around, narrowing his eyes at Nagi’s seemingly genuine concern. “Why do you care? It isn’t your life, it’s mine.”

“I guess...I’m hoping that...if one of us can escape...then maybe I can one day, too.”

Sigh. Again and again...and again. “There is no escape from this, kid. Not for me. You...you might get away some day, running off with that freak of a girlfriend of yours, but you’re still young.”

“I’m not much younger than *you*.”

“Age doesn’t come in years, kid. Age comes from experience. I’m decades beyond you measuring experience.”

Nagi hates to give up, but he can sense that he is losing this argument one comeback at a time. Dejectedly, he rises from the bed and moves to the door, appearing as if he has indeed given up and is about to leave Schuldrich in peace.

He is. But not before having the last word.

“It’s your choice, you know? No one else’s.” he breathes, searing through Schuldrich with those large, blue-grey eyes. “I didn’t miss you when you were gone.” he adds, suppressing the tiniest smirk. “It was so much quieter around here without you. But...when I saw you at the flower shop...I thought that maybe...if you were like that boy...I would miss you alot. Weiss must be going crazy without you if they feel the way I would. But you know what’s really strange?” he asks lightly, catching Schu’s gaze, that has been stubbornly lowered until now. “I get the feeling...that boy never really left.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well...the old Schuldrich would have kicked me out by now. The old Schuldrich would have sneered and said something cruel to crush my spirit. But you haven’t.”

Nagi turns, opening the door, and steps almost completely through before calling back.

“Welcome home.”

Those final words are meant to sting, and they do. This isn’t home. This is work. This is life. But this has never been a home. Even with all of them in their respective roles - Brad: Father, Schu: Mother, Farf: Crazy Uncle, and Nagi: the depressed, teenage son. They are the perfect, dysfunctional family.

So what is he supposed to do? A few days ago everything was lighter, happier, but now everything looks darker and more upsetting, like he has opened Pandora’s Box of Angst. Nothing makes sense. It had been easy pretending around Weiss, even when Ran came after him, but pretending *here*, with Schwartz, was only going to get harder.

Schuldrich rises from the bed, heading for his dresser again, and passes his gaze over the silly mementos. Why had he taken them? Not because of the stupid answer he gave Nagi, that’s for sure. But because...he had to.

Picking up the now empty bag from the floor, Schu tosses the gloves, the keychain, and the kitty back inside. The necklace, however, he continues to stare at for a moment, eyeing its perfection. At long last, he still does not add it to the others, but clasps it back around his own neck, being sure to hide it beneath his shirt should Farfarello happen to catch him on his way out.

Out...?

Slipping back on his black jacket, his socks, and his shoes, Schu is soon ready again. He knows he doesn’t have time to grab anything else - Brad is no longer blocked from having premonitions about him - and the time he takes lingering over nostalgia, is already too much.

He doesn’t know how far he is going to get as he heads for the door, the bag once again swung over his shoulder, but he is certainly going to try. After all, there is hope in trying. At that is all he has been asked to offer.