drive-by pocket-sized four-day challenge

[indelicateink]

Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll and expressed interest in this quickie challenge! (Even if you didn't vote in the poll, you're still welcome to play!)

THE CHALLENGE / HOW TO PLAY

• Anyone participating can play: You can leave as many prompts as you want, but you MUST fill at least one prompt. Please don't leave a prompt if you don't

Comments

[daegaer]

Future Imperfect

Crawford slid the pill bottle across the table and went back to the Sunday sports supplement, mentally counting the seconds before -

"What’s that for?"

"Your headache."

Schuldig’s hand came down on the paper, giving Crawford a good view of his suspicious, irritated face.

"I don’t have one - am I going to have one?"

Crawford folded his paper and looked at him calmly. "You tell me. Don’t read my mind."

Schuldig glared, and took a long gulp of his coffee. "This is such bullshit. Fine." He closed his eyes, his face tight in concentration. Crawford watched him; he kept his own thoughts calm and still. He had no doubt Schuldig was rifling through his mind for information.

"Anything?" he asked at last.

"No," Schuldig said in frustration. "Are you just jerking me round, Crawford? Because it’s really hilarious if you are, you’re a natural comedian, now can we just get on with our day?"

"It’s all part of your training," Crawford said. "You’ve got to learn to accept even the slightest hints of the future and weave them into a coherent narrative."

"I don’t want to," Schuldig muttered. "I’m happy being a telepath - tell everyone I’ll stick with that, OK?"

Crawford grinned. "Yeah, we all said that. Take one of these." He pushed the bottle closer.

Schuldig sighed. "Your coherent narrative tells you I’ll need aspirin - wonderful." He looked closer. "What is this, Crawford?"

"An anti-epileptic - it’s used for controlling migraines as well. You’ve been given it before, in Rosenkreuz, though they wouldn’t have bothered telling you what it was. One every morning and evening, till I say otherwise."

"Now you’re a doctor," Schuldig said, looking at the pills in annoyance.

"I’m someone who’s gone through this," Crawford said. "Do yourself a favour and learn from my experience."

Schuldig pursed his lips, then unscrewed the lid and shook one of the tiny, yellow pills out. He washed it down with his coffee and stole the sports supplement. "You don't even like football," he said, in petty, vindictive victory.

Crawford smiled thinly and allowed him the moment of pleasure. It was hard when your ability changed, and Schuldig was as unhappy as most people at the onrushing loss of his telepathy. Precognition seemed like a poor substitute, Crawford knew. He'd felt that way himself, had raged over what had seemed like the world gone silent and dull. There was nothing anyone could do - telepathy was a young person's ability; children and teenagers had it full-strength and then, suddenly, it flared up - and faded. Schuldig's had suddenly become stronger; he had a few months left at most and then, like everyone, would be left with slowly strengthening precognition. No one knew how strong their precognition would be - strong telepaths might be left were mere hunches about the course of the future, weak ones might have such strong visions they would end up raving and insane. Crawford had been lucky; a mediocre telepath at best, his precognition was near-future but reliable. He hoped Schuldig would be lucky too - he'd get a bonus for a safely-transitioned and usable precog.

Schuldig had taken a second dose of the medication and a high dose of painkillers by the time the first strong vision hit him, so Crawford just got him wrapped up warm and lying in his darkened room. Some people thought the fading telepathy should be allowed just burn itself out to leave space for the precognition, and be damned to what damage it left in its wake, but the precog who'd got Crawford through this had dosed him up on anti-epileptics and painkillers and it had worked just fine. It was certainly an experiment worth repeating although nobody could call this an exact science.

"What do you mean, it's not an exact science?" Schuldig whispered.

"Shh," Crawford said. "Rest."

"I don't want this," Schuldig said. He sounded young, and scared. "I don't."

"I know," Crawford said. "Go to sleep. We'll make sense of what you saw tomorrow."

"Suppose I can't remember?" Schuldig said, beginning to drift off.

"I know you will. I can see the future," Crawford said, amused. He waited until Schuldig had fallen into an uneasy, fractious doze, and slipped out. You will too, he thought. You will too.

[indelicateink]

OMG. This is so wonderful!! I ADORE where this went. It's all I could've hoped for, BUT MORE. (Imma try to rein in my desire to beg for, like, What Happens Next and What Happened Before and What Happens After Next. So curious!!) XD♥ Fantastic! Thank you!!

[daegaer]

Thanks! It's fun to think of Crawford as having once been a telepath, and understanding the fear of change - the loss of a sense, really.

[obsolete_theory]

Ooooooh! *_* Fascinating premise and gorgeous follow-through! So ominous, and we see a softer side of Crawford, too. (And his anger, which is beautifully illuminated!)

[daegaer]

Thank you! Poor Schuldig, not knowing how he'll end up, and Crawford, building his life around the fact that he was lucky.

[daegaer]

Thanks! It's at times like this Crawford wishes for longer distance visions . . .

[lady_ganesh]

Aww, Crawford. Sure you're using the drugs because they work just as well. Sure.

[daegaer]

Of course. Yes. And he'll get a bonus.

Yes.

[lauand]

Oooh, this was lovely!

I love a contrary Schuldig and a calm, know-it-all Crawford is the perfect couterpoint :)

[daegaer]

Thank you!

Well, someone has to keep calm when a telepath is exploding all over the place!