Coming Home
Title: Coming Home
Recipient: Daegaer
Author: vr2lbast
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Nagi/Schuldig. Light romance.
Notes: Possible spoilers.
I
"Schuldig, some help."
The voice was unmistakable, as was the footstep on the floor. Even the way the door was opened told Schuldig exactly who was standing behind him. And if, by some negligence, he did not notice the voice, the tread, or the way the door was opened, there was always the flavour of the new thoughts arriving. Whether he liked it or not, Schuldig could always sense the minds of new arrivals and, while he had heard only one voice and only one footfall, there were definitely two people behind him.
"Crawford, you're back!" Schuldig said, genuinely pleased, as he rose to meet his superior. "And who have you brought with you?"
Brad Crawford stopped in the entranceway, a smile playing about his lips. A small boy of distinctly Asian appearance stepped forward to stand beside him, eying Schuldig suspiciously, his mouth set in a tight-lipped frown.
"I am pleased to see you too, Schuldig," Crawford said. He placed a hand on the small of the boy's back and nudged him forward. "This is Naoe Nagi. Or, as we might say it in the West, Nagi Naoe."
"A souvenir?" Schuldig said. "You shouldn't have."
Schuldig bent forward a little to examine the boy. He appeared to be about ten years old, scrawny and slightly disheveled, but clean. Nagi stood before him, ramrod straight, his little chin jutting out, his face set in firm defiance, his eyes narrowed, but the fear wafted from him in waves so thick that Schuldig could almost smell it. He grinned widely and loomed over the boy with aggressive good humour until Nagi's eyebrows knitted with worry and he tried to hide behind Crawford without actually moving. Only then did Schuldig relent and turn his attention back to Crawford.
"So this is what you were sent to bring back, is it?"
"No," Crawford said, "I was doing some ground work for a job the Elders are planning. Nagi was a bit of a bonus. He doesn't know any German, Schuldig, so speak in Japanese."
Schuldig snorted. "You know I'm no good at that."
"Consider it practise," Crawford told him, switching languages easily. The boy perked up immediately, slightly more at ease now that he could understand what was being said. "I have every intention of being assigned to Esset's little project and I will not serve as your interpreter."
"And the kid?"
"Will learn German, in time, and English besides," Crawford said. "But, until he gets used to us, this will be better."
"And what?" Schuldig said, struggling to find a Japanese equivalent to the thoughts in his head. "Are you hoping to earn brownie points by babysitting the school's new talent?"
From the corner of his eye, Schuldig saw Nagi wince at his mispronunciation and offered the boy his most feral smile. Nagi looked away quickly, but could not fully hide his contempt. Schuldig decided he rather liked the kid.
"He isn't a Rosenkreuz talent," Crawford told him. "I learned about him by chance and obtained permission to tutor him as a part of our group."
"Is that so? And what is this talent you are tutoring?" Schuldig said. He looked Nagi over once more - skinny boy, somewhat scruffy - and then carefully projected, I can't wait to mock your German.
Nagi jumped, startled by the intrusion into his mind, and Schuldig felt something solid strike his head. He yelped and clamped a hand to the spot above his ear. A hardcover book lay on the floor at his feet.
"He's a tele- no…a psychokinetic," Crawford said mildly. "And right now he's very nervous. Schuldig can read minds," he told Nagi. It did little to calm the boy whose eyes grew round with terror.
"I won't eat your brain," Schuldig told him, ruefully rubbing the side of his head. Nagi had not thrown the book with much force, but it had hurt all the same. "At least not tonight. But hit me again and I'll tan your hide."
In case his poor grasp of Japanese blunted the force of his threat, he underlined it with a host of mental images.
"Stop that," Crawford told him. "You're older; you should know better."
"Sure, dad."
"And you are not the one who has been dragged to a new and terrifying country."
"I know! I know!"
And the truth was, he did know. The boy's underlying fear was strong enough to drown in.
"Just help me bring in the luggage. We'll put him in the spare room. Farfarello won't be joining us for a while."
"Alright," Schuldig said, grabbing one of Crawford's bags and the kid's light duffel. "But don’t expect me to share if Farfarello joins us earlier than expected."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Crawford said.
Schuldig awoke bathed in cold sweat. He sat up and scanned the room quickly, expecting a menacing figure to be looming over him, but he saw no one. The room was empty.
He realized then that he had been dreaming. It had been a terrifying dream, that much was clear, although he could not remember a single moment of it. Even the feeling of persecution was quickly fading.
Normally he would roll over and go back to sleep - nightmares, after all, were not unusual among Rosenkreuz students - but his bladder was full enough to demand attention and he decided that he might as well take a trip to the bathroom while he was up.
He stumbled into the hall, legs numb and mind fogged with sleep. It was not until he was leaving and about to turn off the bathroom light that he saw the small figure huddled on the floor by Crawford's bedroom door. Schuldig carefully touched the boy's mind and the lingering terror he felt there made obvious the source of his disturbing dreams.
Schuldig considered just going back to bed - the kid was Crawford's pet project, after all, not his - but he remembered what it was like being a young telepath and everyone's scapegoat, only to be uprooted and dropped into a system that only seemed to want you for their personal army of espers. That, and if the kid remained terrified of them, Schuldig feared he would never have another good night's sleep.
He strolled over and nudged the boy with his foot.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" he said, and then caught himself and repeated the question in Japanese.
Nagi looked up quickly and, although Schuldig could not see his face in the dark, the wash of fear and anger that swept over him gave him a fair idea of the boy's state of mind.
"Look, I'm not going to break into your head and rummage around in there, not if I have to work with you," Schuldig told him. "I have to deal with enough shit bags in my day to day life without looking for trouble from someone I have to live with. But it's not perfect, okay? If you have strong thoughts or strong feelings…"
Nagi's thoughts flooded him with worried confusion. Schuldig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew his Japanese was crap and the kid didn't speak a lick of German. Didn't speak at all as far as Schuldig could tell. He was sorely tempted to go back to bed and leave the boy huddled alone on the floor by Crawford's closed door, but he knew he would hear about it in the morning and for many mornings to come. It was a bitch and a half, but sometimes playing nice made his life a whole lot easier in the long run.
Can I? Schuldig asked, projecting not so much the words, but the meaning of the words, even as he spoke their equivalent in Japanese. Nagi flinched away, but didn't run. He seemed to be analyzing the intrusive thoughts.
Look, kid, Schuldig said, speaking quietly while reinforcing the meaning of his words with thought and feeling. I'm not going to dig around in your head, okay? It's not fun. You're a kid. You're boring. Nagi's fear abated long enough to send a pulse of insult through their connection. Schuldig grinned. Boring, he repeated, and I just don't care. But if you think hard or have strong feelings, I can pick them up, even if I don't want to. You're scared. You had a bad dream.
A thread of relief wound its way through Nagi's thoughts and Schuldig realized that the boy was ashamed to admit his fear.
"And that's why you're out here, isn't it?" Schuldig said amid thoughts of sympathy and vague amusement. "You want to tell Crawford, but are too scared to wake him up over a dream. Well, I don't blame you, he's a scary guy, and he's got a stick the size of a telephone pole up his back passage, but bad dreams aren't unusual around here so no one's going to give you hell for having them."
Schuldig paused, unsure of what to say next. Brotherly heart-to-hearts were not a staple of his daily conversations and he was not accustomed to dealing with children who spoke the same language, much less a child that was entirely foreign. It was in this moment of silence that Nagi stunned Schuldig with the one thing Schuldig would not have expected.
He spoke.
"Can I sleep with you?" Nagi said in a voice both too heavy and too deep for a child.
"It speaks!" Schuldig said, covering the blind panic of his thoughts with frantic humour. "And here I thought you were a mute."
"Please?" Nagi whispered, his voice edged with desperation.
Schuldig drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He knew Crawford wanted him to make nice, but letting little boys sleep in his bed was a bit much. Hell, it might be a bit much even to Crawford. After all, no matter how innocent the intention…
But, Hell…if he didn't, the kid would either sit on the floor all night or screw up his courage and wake Crawford. Either action would mean questions in the morning.
"Ah, fuck it. Why not?" Schuldig said, grinning. "But we'll be pressed up pretty close. I only have a single bed."
Nagi hesitated, suddenly unsure, and then scrambled to his feet, grabbing Schuldig lightly by the wrist as they headed for the bedroom. Schuldig didn't know what kind of fearsome and perverted spectacle the kid expected, but hoped Nagi was disappointed by the room's drab appearance. Schuldig allowed the boy a moment to absorb his surroundings before stepping forward to pull back his blankets.
"In," he commanded, nodding toward the rumpled bed.
This time, Nagi did not hesitated, but he did move slowly, cautiously, as if the bed might bite him. When he was settled on the far end of the mattress, Schuldig smoothed the first sheet over him and then climbed into bed on top of it.
"So you know I'm not up to anything funny," Schuldig told Nagi, ignoring the boy's unspoken questions. "And so that Crawford doesn't kill me when you tell him about this tomorrow."
Schuldig stretched out awkwardly, unused to sharing his bed, which was really too narrow for the both of them, and reluctantly wrapped an arm around Nagi's waist. It seemed to be the only way to keep either one of them from falling to the floor. Although it made him uncomfortable, Nagi didn't seem to mind the contact and huddled up to Schuldig, his shelter against the night.
It didn't take long for Nagi to fall asleep, but Schuldig lay awake a while longer, wondering if Crawford's plans were worth the irritation of this added responsibility. There was something intoxicating about having another's trust, but for Schuldig, this usually meant manipulation and the kid was not someone he would be allowed to mess with in the morning. Even if Crawford turned a blind eye to him, Schuldig knew better than to mentally torment someone he was expected to work with - especially if he wanted a warning when the enemy was behind him.
But a kid?
Schuldig could only hope that Crawford knew what he was doing.
II
Schuldig filled the form with scratches and symbols that signified nothing and mused once again about how much he hated hospitals. It wasn't just the smell of antiseptic that barely covered the stench of sickness, or the stark, diffuse lighting. These things added to Schuldig's deep loathing of such places, but what really drove him crazy was the crowd.
Hospitals were where the sick and desperate gathered and their thoughts slopped about, overlapping and mingling into one enormous wave of misery. Schuldig painfully made his way through the release forms, trying his best to shut out the people around him, while simultaneously cursing Crawford for wanting to avoid suspicion by at least making a show of following procedure.
Offering the nurse a tight smile, Schuldig handed her the gibberish-filled forms and hoped she wouldn't prove to be difficult. He nudged her mentally as she read, urging her to see exactly what she would like to see on a patient release form.
But even when the victims of his manipulations believed what he told them they saw, there were some things that could not be as easily hidden.
"And you are the boy's older brother?" the nurse said, eying Schuldig suspiciously.
"His mother's son, from a previous marriage," Schuldig said smoothly, easing into the role now that he knew the nurse's expectations. "She remarried and had another child. Yuko takes after his father."
"I see," said the nurse. "And where are the parents now?"
"Away on business. I was looking after him."
The nurse eyed him suspiciously. "Well, in that case, I hope you won't mind answering a few questions. He has been a week and was brought in under rather mysterious circumstances."
Schuldig reassured her with a smile and a gentle mental nudge. "If a friend of the family hadn't seen him, he might have been here another week. I have already told the police to call off the search and I will be happy to answer any questions you might have."
Although he finished on a note of sincerity, Schuldig pressed on the part of the nurse's mind that did not want to deal with a creepy foreigner and suggested that another time might be to everyone's advantage. He could see her expression change, and savoured the little rush he felt as she realized that she could put off onto someone else a job she did not want to do herself.
"On the other hand, it might be best to wait for the boy's parents to return," she said.
"They should be back in a few days," Schuldig assured her. "Although the accident was tragic, it will be a great relief to not have to tell them I lost my little brother. Was he badly injured? When I called I was told he was well enough to be released."
"That is the strange thing," said the nurse. "He was buried in the rubbled, but aside from some heavy bruising and a number of cuts and scratches, he was fine. No broken bones, no internal injuries. We were afraid he might have hit his head because he suffered from terrible headaches at first and refuses to speak to anyone including the counselors we have on staff, but the doctors found no evidence of a concussion."
"An incident like that is very traumatizing," Schuldig said, suggesting a very neat conclusion to the whole affair.
The nurse paused and cast Schuldig a strange look as through she sensed him tinkering with her thoughts. Although it was more likely a change in routine that was bothering her, Schuldig prepared to bear down more firmly upon her mind. It was unnecessary; the nurse was soon distracted by the arrival of another.
"Ah, here he is now," the nurse said as a second nurse wheeled a sour-looking Nagi toward them. Schuldig grinned. Apparently rides in wheelchairs did not agree with his young teammate. "How are you feeling today, Yukio? You must be happy that your brother has come for you."
Nagi cast Schuldig a brief, angry glance and then looked up at the nurse and nodded once, his expression bland, but very polite. However, his brow furrowed in annoyance when he tried to stand and was gently, but firmly pushed back into his seat by the nurse pushing the wheelchair.
"Now, Yukio," she said, "you know you have to stay seated until you're out of the hospital." Nagi's expression was nuclear.
"I'll bring the car around," Schuldig said, biting back laughter.
By the time Schuldig pulled up in front of the building, the nurse had already wheeled Nagi to the edge of the sidewalk. Free of the hated chair, Nagi refused help getting into the car, although he winced as he fell into the seat. Schuldig thanked the nurse, who returned to the building, and was suddenly glad he had managed to restrain himself. Nagi's expression and impressions of annoyed irritation had amused him, but they had since vanished, replaced by a dismal, wounded look.
"You left me behind," he said.
"You were going to blow us up," Schuldig pointed out. "So, yes, we did."
He allowed Nagi a chance to absorb the answer. A slight shift in the boy's surface thoughts agreed that, while he did not like it, the answer was acceptable. He had survived - due either to his powers or to dumb luck - but it was ridiculous to think that anyone else might have.
"If it's any consolation, I went back to find you, but the place was already overrun with emergency vehicles. You put on quite a light show."
"Only you?"
In spite of his carefully controlled tone, Nagi sounded crushed. Schuldig sighed.
"Look, kid, would you have preferred I bring Crawford and Farfarello along? They could have carried a great big neon sign saying, 'Suspicious people near site of explosion!' and paraded up and down the street."
A smile flickered over Nagi's lips and briefly touched his eyes, but vanished as quickly as it had come. "You left me there for a week."
"Esset's been all over us, Nagi," Schuldig said, fingers drumming the steering wheel as he wove his way through the afternoon traffic. "We’re in the middle of their preparations, they have people coming and going that we're expected to escort, we have to plan for the arrival of the Elders, not to mention take care of that Fujimiya girl… Crawford thought it best that you recover in a place that was actually equipped to deal with medical emergencies, especially if you were badly hurt.
"Look," he added when his explanation did not seem to be enough, "Crawford saw you with us in the near future, so we knew you'd be all right. Getting left behind feels like shit, but we're one of the few groups who can calculate whether going back now would do more damage than going back later. It wouldn't have done you much good if we'd all died and you'd been the only one to live. For one thing, you would have had to talk to the damned nurses."
Nagi didn't smile, but he did relax a little and Schuldig sense that, while Schwarz was not forgiven, the team's motives were accepted.
"Why did you give them such a hard time anyway?" Schuldig pressed.
"They would have asked me what happened and how to contact you and my head hurt too much to make something up," Nagi said. "Also, I didn't want to talk to you. Can we get a drink?"
"I picked up some melon soda," Schuldig told him. "It's in the bag behind your seat if you can reach…"
He grinned as a bottle floated into the front of the car and landed neatly in Nagi's hand. "That was a stupid comment, I guess. I wasn't sure if getting hurt had…"
"No, I'm fine," Nagi said, twisting the cap off the bottle. "It was hard to do anything for a few days because I couldn't concentrate, but I'm okay now."
"I thought you'd be a lot worse off," Schuldig said.
"I thought I'd be dead," Nagi replied dully. "I didn't mind. But I guess I made a shield or something before the worst of the debris could hit me. I don't know. All I remember is not…not wanting her buried…"
Nagi's voice trailed off and Schuldig watched from the corner of his eye as he toyed with his bottled, running his finger around the lip and tapping a quiet rhythm on its side.
"I tried to… I hoped to…" Nagi said. "Was I the only one?"
"To survive? Yes," Schuldig told him, neglecting to mention that news reports listed fewer bodies than he had expected. Missing were four males - no doubt Weiss - and one female.
Schuldig saw no point in bringing it up. The rescue workers would not have known how many bodies to look for. They could have easily missed one. By the same token, if there was another survivor, Schuldig had no way of knowing which one it was. Better to let the kid think his girlfriend was dead. The match was doomed from the start.
Not that Schuldig minded the girl. He certainly didn't find her attractive, either physically or mentally, but to each his own. She made Nagi happy for a brief time, in spite of repeated warnings that she might become an enemy, and sneaking out to visit her gave Nagi something to do other than sulk around Schuldig. He was all right for a kid - smart, polite, fairly quiet, and possessing an acid wit when needed - but he was only fifteen and needed to get out once in a while instead of always hanging around people more than five years his senior. For one thing, it didn't look good, and, for another, two of those people were Farfarello and himself. Crawford, Schuldig allowed, could be seen as a parental figure and therefore didn't count.
Nagi was silent the rest of the way home and said little for the rest of the afternoon. He answered questions dutifully and did the few small chores he was asked to do - encryptions, mostly - before pleading fatigue and turning in for the night.
Schuldig also turned in early. Crawford was engaged with Esset's men and Farfarello was on the hunt, leaving him very little to do besides lie in bed, read a book, and periodically eavesdrop on the conversations downstairs. It was both a useful and entertaining task: he would be able to tell Crawford exactly what Esset thought of the situation and what they thought was that Schwarz was terrifying. Only the Elders terrified the more, which was why they were dealing with Crawford in the first place. He occasionally prodded at their nervousness, knowing that Crawford would delight in watching them squirm.
Schuldig was so engaged in his game that he failed to notice Nagi enter his room until the boy cleared his throat. Schuldig turned his attention away from the argument below and looked up at the boy who stood in his doorway doing his best to seem nonchalant, but twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers.
"What's the matter, kid? Can't sleep?" Schuldig said. Nagi seemed reluctant to speak, but a flood of confused and anxious thoughts filled Schuldig's mind. He tried to block them out with little success. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Yes," Nagi said after a moment's hesitation.
Schuldig supposed it was only natural; the kid had been through a hell of a time. Even so, Schuldig sensed there was more to it, an ongoing nervousness brought on, perhaps, by the inability to completely trust a team that would abandon him in a crisis.
"So what is it?" Schuldig prompted. "If you want to talk, come in and talk. Don't stand in the doorway all night."
"I want to sleep with you," Nagi said.
"You're fifteen!"
The exclamation sounded harsh, even to Schuldig, but the statement had caught him by surprise. He hadn't shared a bed to comfort Nagi since he first joined Schwarz and the boy had proven himself more than capable of taking care of himself since then. However, he relented when Nagi's feelings of nervousness suddenly spiked.
"Oh, all right," Schuldig said bitterly, pulling back the blankets. "Jump in. And don't snore, kick, or tell Crawford. He'll kill me."
Nagi wasted no time, crawling quickly between the sheets and Schuldig blessed Crawford for giving him a double bed. Even so, a double bed left little room for personal space and Schuldig soon found Nagi pressed against him. For comfort, Schuldig supposed, like the first night Crawford brought him home.
Schuldig waited for Nagi to settle in and then turned his attention back to the meeting, but he had been so thoroughly distracted by Nagi's entrance that the thread of the conversation was lost. Instead, he stretched out, intending to get some sleep. His eyes had been closed for no more than five minutes when he felt a pair of lips against his own.
The kiss was reluctant at first, but quickly firmed and Schuldig sat up quickly before it could go further. Nagi scrambled back, startled by Schuldig's reaction, and nearly fell off the bed.
"The Hell do you think you're doing?" Schuldig demanded.
"I want to sleep with you," Nagi said and Schuldig felt, for the first time, the weight that those words carried.
"And what makes you think I want to 'sleep' with you?" he snapped.
Nagi looked vaguely hurt as if the question stung, but was not wholly unexpected. "You like boys," Nagi said simply. "I've seen your magazines and the stuff you look at online."
"I don't download any of that!"
"You don't clear your settings either," Nagi said. "Sometimes the history, but never the cache. Or the cookies."
Schuldig fought the urge to ask what computers did with cookies. He was not a fan of technical explanations and it was not the issue.
"Okay, so I've looked at porn," Schuldig said. "That does not mean I want you in my bed…that way."
"You like other boys."
"Men!"
"They didn't look so old," Nagi said, twisting the blankets between his fingers. "No older than you…"
"Right," Schuldig said. "My age. Men my age. You are a kid."
Nagi said nothing. He merely looked away as his eyes brimmed with tears.
"Oh, don't fucking cry," Schuldig said, unnerved.
"I won't," Nagi said.
And he probably wouldn't, Schuldig knew. Nagi was not known for his weepiness. That, at least, was one less thing to worry about.
Even so, Schuldig found himself reluctant to throw Nagi from the room while he sat on the verge of tears. He gave the kid a few moments to compose himself and then tried a different approach.
"I could probably have put that better," Schuldig said. "But it's true, and you know it. I don't go in for kids. What I really want to know is why the hell you think you want to sle…to Hell with that. Why do you think you want to fuck me. I thought you loved that Schrient girl."
"I do love her…did love her," Nagi said miserably. "I only wanted to fuck you."
"Oh, thanks," Schuldig said. "That makes it all better."
"I'm not going to find anyone else like her," Nagi said.
That, at least, was an accurate assessment, Schuldig decided.
"And if I can't have someone I love, I want to have someone I care about and who cares about me. You're the only one who does, Schuldig."
"Crawford cares about you," Schuldig said. "I mean, he acts like a cold bastard sometimes, but…"
"That's not the same," Nagi protested.
Schuldig opened his mouth to disagree, but found he could not. Crawford did care about Nagi, but, no…it wasn't the same. Crawford might take care of his team, but he wasn't the sort to bandage wounds or harass someone out of a bad mood. Farfarello was handy with the first aid, but…
Well, thinking of Farfarello in his place made Schuldig shudder, even if Farfarello cared more about his vendetta than sexual encounters with either sex.
"This is why I told Crawford to let you mingle with kids your own age," Schuldig said. "If you see me as a caring guy, something is very wrong. Are you even attracted to other boys?"
"No," Nagi said. "Girls are much prettier. But that doesn't matter. Except for Tot, I haven't met a single one of them that I even liked, much less one who cared about me."
Schuldig sighed. "Okay, I get where you're coming from. But you're a kid and I'm still not going to sleep with you. In fact, I think it might better if you spent the night in your own room. You're still bruised up and I don't want to bump you during the night."
"All right," Nagi said, no more fooled by the excuse than Schuldig intended him to be. He climbed out of bed and headed for the hallway, but stopped in the doorway and turned. "I'm going to make you change your mind one day," he said.
"Maybe when you're my age," Schuldig replied.
III
"Christ, I think Crawford's unconscious."
Schuldig collapsed on the grass and prodded Crawford's mind. It was mostly blank with only residual thought patterns to show that a mind existed at all. At least he was alive.
"He's never done a mental battle before," Nagi said. "Really, Schuldig, you should have fought with Berger."
Nagi was the voice of calm. In spite of his haggard appearance, he spoke with a low, firm voice in a slow and regular cadence. It gave him an air of authority in spite of his wet coat, wan complexion, and bloodshot eyes. Schuldig was impressed.
"Let me see him," Nagi said and Schuldig helped him ease Crawford onto his side, head pillowed by his arm and tilted back to prevent choking. Once he was stable, Schuldig sat back and watched while Nagi knelt beside him and analyzed the physical shape of Crawford's injuries.
"Link us up, Schuldig. I want to see how his mind reacts to what I do."
Schuldig grinned. "Calling the shots now? Your little boyfriend has trained you well."
Nagi snorted, but Schuldig was already joining the three of them up, making it possible to share even the tiniest thought, if they were so inclined. When they were joined, Schuldig put aside his consciousness and watched Nagi at work.
Watched was a strong word. Schuldig could not really see what Nagi was up to, but he could sense it. It was the strangest sensation: he felt open wounds close up, blood drain from places it was beginning to pool and flesh begin to knit.
However, a beginning was all that it was. Once he was satisfied that Crawford was stable, Nagi sat back and breathed a deep sigh.
"That will do for now," he said. "I can't do any more."
"That was impressive enough as it is," Schuldig said. He checked his arms and found that even the burns he'd acquired from Geisel were healing. "Where did you learn that trick?"
"I think I could always do it," Nagi said, "but just recently learned how to control it. It's all just psychokinesis on a cellular level, after all."
Schuldig chuckled and rolled over onto the grass. "Just. Nagi, you fought off one of Rosenkreuz's special agents, held up most of a building so we could make our escape, and then stabilized our wounds. There's no 'just' about it."
"If you say so," Nagi replied, dropping down beside him.
"And I do," Schuldig said. Then he frowned. "You look like hell, kid. Are you all right?"
Nagi nodded. "I'm tired. That's all."
"Well, let's take a break and then get Crawford back to the hotel. You can stay with us a while and rest up," Schuldig said. He grinned. "Unless you have to get back to your boss."
"Mamoru is not my boss," Nagi said and Schuldig was disappointed by his lack of indignity. "We have done work together."
"You've done more than work together," Schuldig said.
This time he was rewarded with a reaction. A rush of embarrassment flooded Nagi's thoughts and, although he could not see clearly in the artificial light of the urban night, Schuldig was certain that Nagi was blushing.
"Sometimes," Nagi admitted. "But I don't come running when he calls."
"That's good to hear," Schuldig said. "Now we can lock you up and feed you nothing but room service until you tell us everything that's gone on since you left."
"You make it sound exciting," Nagi said tonelessly, "but nothing's happened that you don't already know about. I work against Esset, sometimes leaving information for you, sometimes sharing it with Mamoru."
Schuldig propped himself up on his elbows as Nagi sat up and leaned over him. For a moment, Schuldig thought he saw the gleam of tears in Nagi's eyes, but the boy's voice was steady as he spoke.
"You know, I wasn't sure I would see you again," Nagi said. "I wasn't sure I wanted to. But I'm glad you're both here now. I never did find one, you know."
"Find one?" Schuldig said.
"Someone who would care for me the way you did. The way you still do."
Schuldig smirked. "You can't be comparing me to your little Takatori friend."
"Mamoru can be ruthless," Nagi said. "I think you would get along very well. But as far as caring is concerned, he has a big heart. He tries to care for everyone at once and see to it that as many things work out as he possibly can. Do you feel him nearby, searching for me to see if I'm all right?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Schuldig listened closely to the minds in the area on principal. They were almost isolated on their little patch of grass in the dark; only the distant panic of emergency personnel could reach him.
"No," he admitted.
"Of course not," Nagi said. "He knows I can take care of myself. I'm very good at it. There are others who need his attention."
"Weiss?"
"Do you know what he will do with Weiss if they are injured? He will find someone to take care of them and then he will leave them because he trusts them to survive. There will be others injured in the explosion and he will see to it that they are cared for before moving on. He will make sure the firemen and paramedics have all they need and look for someone else to save."
Nagi looked down on Schuldig, captured him with his deep, dark eyes, and said, "What he will not do is threaten to personally drag me away and see to it that I am rested and fed. I'm selfish, Schuldig. I don't want someone to care for the world. I want someone who will care for me."
Schuldig laughed. He couldn't help it. "You sound like a spoiled little boy, Nagi. My age, I told you."
"I will never be your age," Nagi said, ever the voice of reason. "But I'm not a little boy anymore."
Schuldig sighed. The face above him was as handsome and the body before him as well formed as those of any magazine model. "No," he admitted. "No, you aren't. But you're still spoiled."
"Then perhaps you should spank me," Nagi said, sliding a hand up Schuldig's shirt.
"Do not even start with that," said Schuldig although he did not push Nagi away. "I'm not ready to explain to Crawford that I'm playing kinky games with his ward."
The corners of Nagi's mouth twitched upward. "He has to let go sometime."
"You know, I don't remember the last time you smiled," Schuldig said.
"I don't remember the last time I felt like I was home." Nagi said and kissed him.
Recipient: Daegaer
Author: vr2lbast
Rating:PG-13
Summary: Nagi/Schuldig. Light romance.
Notes: Possible spoilers.
I
"Schuldig, some help."
The voice was unmistakable, as was the footstep on the floor. Even the way the door was opened told Schuldig exactly who was standing behind him. And if, by some negligence, he did not notice the voice, the tread, or the way the door was opened, there was always the flavour of the new thoughts arriving. Whether he liked it or not, Schuldig could always sense the minds of new arrivals and, while he had heard only one voice and only one footfall, there were definitely two people behind him.
"Crawford, you're back!" Schuldig said, genuinely pleased, as he rose to meet his superior. "And who have you brought with you?"
Brad Crawford stopped in the entranceway, a smile playing about his lips. A small boy of distinctly Asian appearance stepped forward to stand beside him, eying Schuldig suspiciously, his mouth set in a tight-lipped frown.
"I am pleased to see you too, Schuldig," Crawford said. He placed a hand on the small of the boy's back and nudged him forward. "This is Naoe Nagi. Or, as we might say it in the West, Nagi Naoe."
"A souvenir?" Schuldig said. "You shouldn't have."
Schuldig bent forward a little to examine the boy. He appeared to be about ten years old, scrawny and slightly disheveled, but clean. Nagi stood before him, ramrod straight, his little chin jutting out, his face set in firm defiance, his eyes narrowed, but the fear wafted from him in waves so thick that Schuldig could almost smell it. He grinned widely and loomed over the boy with aggressive good humour until Nagi's eyebrows knitted with worry and he tried to hide behind Crawford without actually moving. Only then did Schuldig relent and turn his attention back to Crawford.
"So this is what you were sent to bring back, is it?"
"No," Crawford said, "I was doing some ground work for a job the Elders are planning. Nagi was a bit of a bonus. He doesn't know any German, Schuldig, so speak in Japanese."
Schuldig snorted. "You know I'm no good at that."
"Consider it practise," Crawford told him, switching languages easily. The boy perked up immediately, slightly more at ease now that he could understand what was being said. "I have every intention of being assigned to Esset's little project and I will not serve as your interpreter."
"And the kid?"
"Will learn German, in time, and English besides," Crawford said. "But, until he gets used to us, this will be better."
"And what?" Schuldig said, struggling to find a Japanese equivalent to the thoughts in his head. "Are you hoping to earn brownie points by babysitting the school's new talent?"
From the corner of his eye, Schuldig saw Nagi wince at his mispronunciation and offered the boy his most feral smile. Nagi looked away quickly, but could not fully hide his contempt. Schuldig decided he rather liked the kid.
"He isn't a Rosenkreuz talent," Crawford told him. "I learned about him by chance and obtained permission to tutor him as a part of our group."
"Is that so? And what is this talent you are tutoring?" Schuldig said. He looked Nagi over once more - skinny boy, somewhat scruffy - and then carefully projected, I can't wait to mock your German.
Nagi jumped, startled by the intrusion into his mind, and Schuldig felt something solid strike his head. He yelped and clamped a hand to the spot above his ear. A hardcover book lay on the floor at his feet.
"He's a tele- no…a psychokinetic," Crawford said mildly. "And right now he's very nervous. Schuldig can read minds," he told Nagi. It did little to calm the boy whose eyes grew round with terror.
"I won't eat your brain," Schuldig told him, ruefully rubbing the side of his head. Nagi had not thrown the book with much force, but it had hurt all the same. "At least not tonight. But hit me again and I'll tan your hide."
In case his poor grasp of Japanese blunted the force of his threat, he underlined it with a host of mental images.
"Stop that," Crawford told him. "You're older; you should know better."
"Sure, dad."
"And you are not the one who has been dragged to a new and terrifying country."
"I know! I know!"
And the truth was, he did know. The boy's underlying fear was strong enough to drown in.
"Just help me bring in the luggage. We'll put him in the spare room. Farfarello won't be joining us for a while."
"Alright," Schuldig said, grabbing one of Crawford's bags and the kid's light duffel. "But don’t expect me to share if Farfarello joins us earlier than expected."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Crawford said.
Schuldig awoke bathed in cold sweat. He sat up and scanned the room quickly, expecting a menacing figure to be looming over him, but he saw no one. The room was empty.
He realized then that he had been dreaming. It had been a terrifying dream, that much was clear, although he could not remember a single moment of it. Even the feeling of persecution was quickly fading.
Normally he would roll over and go back to sleep - nightmares, after all, were not unusual among Rosenkreuz students - but his bladder was full enough to demand attention and he decided that he might as well take a trip to the bathroom while he was up.
He stumbled into the hall, legs numb and mind fogged with sleep. It was not until he was leaving and about to turn off the bathroom light that he saw the small figure huddled on the floor by Crawford's bedroom door. Schuldig carefully touched the boy's mind and the lingering terror he felt there made obvious the source of his disturbing dreams.
Schuldig considered just going back to bed - the kid was Crawford's pet project, after all, not his - but he remembered what it was like being a young telepath and everyone's scapegoat, only to be uprooted and dropped into a system that only seemed to want you for their personal army of espers. That, and if the kid remained terrified of them, Schuldig feared he would never have another good night's sleep.
He strolled over and nudged the boy with his foot.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" he said, and then caught himself and repeated the question in Japanese.
Nagi looked up quickly and, although Schuldig could not see his face in the dark, the wash of fear and anger that swept over him gave him a fair idea of the boy's state of mind.
"Look, I'm not going to break into your head and rummage around in there, not if I have to work with you," Schuldig told him. "I have to deal with enough shit bags in my day to day life without looking for trouble from someone I have to live with. But it's not perfect, okay? If you have strong thoughts or strong feelings…"
Nagi's thoughts flooded him with worried confusion. Schuldig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew his Japanese was crap and the kid didn't speak a lick of German. Didn't speak at all as far as Schuldig could tell. He was sorely tempted to go back to bed and leave the boy huddled alone on the floor by Crawford's closed door, but he knew he would hear about it in the morning and for many mornings to come. It was a bitch and a half, but sometimes playing nice made his life a whole lot easier in the long run.
Can I? Schuldig asked, projecting not so much the words, but the meaning of the words, even as he spoke their equivalent in Japanese. Nagi flinched away, but didn't run. He seemed to be analyzing the intrusive thoughts.
Look, kid, Schuldig said, speaking quietly while reinforcing the meaning of his words with thought and feeling. I'm not going to dig around in your head, okay? It's not fun. You're a kid. You're boring. Nagi's fear abated long enough to send a pulse of insult through their connection. Schuldig grinned. Boring, he repeated, and I just don't care. But if you think hard or have strong feelings, I can pick them up, even if I don't want to. You're scared. You had a bad dream.
A thread of relief wound its way through Nagi's thoughts and Schuldig realized that the boy was ashamed to admit his fear.
"And that's why you're out here, isn't it?" Schuldig said amid thoughts of sympathy and vague amusement. "You want to tell Crawford, but are too scared to wake him up over a dream. Well, I don't blame you, he's a scary guy, and he's got a stick the size of a telephone pole up his back passage, but bad dreams aren't unusual around here so no one's going to give you hell for having them."
Schuldig paused, unsure of what to say next. Brotherly heart-to-hearts were not a staple of his daily conversations and he was not accustomed to dealing with children who spoke the same language, much less a child that was entirely foreign. It was in this moment of silence that Nagi stunned Schuldig with the one thing Schuldig would not have expected.
He spoke.
"Can I sleep with you?" Nagi said in a voice both too heavy and too deep for a child.
"It speaks!" Schuldig said, covering the blind panic of his thoughts with frantic humour. "And here I thought you were a mute."
"Please?" Nagi whispered, his voice edged with desperation.
Schuldig drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He knew Crawford wanted him to make nice, but letting little boys sleep in his bed was a bit much. Hell, it might be a bit much even to Crawford. After all, no matter how innocent the intention…
But, Hell…if he didn't, the kid would either sit on the floor all night or screw up his courage and wake Crawford. Either action would mean questions in the morning.
"Ah, fuck it. Why not?" Schuldig said, grinning. "But we'll be pressed up pretty close. I only have a single bed."
Nagi hesitated, suddenly unsure, and then scrambled to his feet, grabbing Schuldig lightly by the wrist as they headed for the bedroom. Schuldig didn't know what kind of fearsome and perverted spectacle the kid expected, but hoped Nagi was disappointed by the room's drab appearance. Schuldig allowed the boy a moment to absorb his surroundings before stepping forward to pull back his blankets.
"In," he commanded, nodding toward the rumpled bed.
This time, Nagi did not hesitated, but he did move slowly, cautiously, as if the bed might bite him. When he was settled on the far end of the mattress, Schuldig smoothed the first sheet over him and then climbed into bed on top of it.
"So you know I'm not up to anything funny," Schuldig told Nagi, ignoring the boy's unspoken questions. "And so that Crawford doesn't kill me when you tell him about this tomorrow."
Schuldig stretched out awkwardly, unused to sharing his bed, which was really too narrow for the both of them, and reluctantly wrapped an arm around Nagi's waist. It seemed to be the only way to keep either one of them from falling to the floor. Although it made him uncomfortable, Nagi didn't seem to mind the contact and huddled up to Schuldig, his shelter against the night.
It didn't take long for Nagi to fall asleep, but Schuldig lay awake a while longer, wondering if Crawford's plans were worth the irritation of this added responsibility. There was something intoxicating about having another's trust, but for Schuldig, this usually meant manipulation and the kid was not someone he would be allowed to mess with in the morning. Even if Crawford turned a blind eye to him, Schuldig knew better than to mentally torment someone he was expected to work with - especially if he wanted a warning when the enemy was behind him.
But a kid?
Schuldig could only hope that Crawford knew what he was doing.
II
Schuldig filled the form with scratches and symbols that signified nothing and mused once again about how much he hated hospitals. It wasn't just the smell of antiseptic that barely covered the stench of sickness, or the stark, diffuse lighting. These things added to Schuldig's deep loathing of such places, but what really drove him crazy was the crowd.
Hospitals were where the sick and desperate gathered and their thoughts slopped about, overlapping and mingling into one enormous wave of misery. Schuldig painfully made his way through the release forms, trying his best to shut out the people around him, while simultaneously cursing Crawford for wanting to avoid suspicion by at least making a show of following procedure.
Offering the nurse a tight smile, Schuldig handed her the gibberish-filled forms and hoped she wouldn't prove to be difficult. He nudged her mentally as she read, urging her to see exactly what she would like to see on a patient release form.
But even when the victims of his manipulations believed what he told them they saw, there were some things that could not be as easily hidden.
"And you are the boy's older brother?" the nurse said, eying Schuldig suspiciously.
"His mother's son, from a previous marriage," Schuldig said smoothly, easing into the role now that he knew the nurse's expectations. "She remarried and had another child. Yuko takes after his father."
"I see," said the nurse. "And where are the parents now?"
"Away on business. I was looking after him."
The nurse eyed him suspiciously. "Well, in that case, I hope you won't mind answering a few questions. He has been a week and was brought in under rather mysterious circumstances."
Schuldig reassured her with a smile and a gentle mental nudge. "If a friend of the family hadn't seen him, he might have been here another week. I have already told the police to call off the search and I will be happy to answer any questions you might have."
Although he finished on a note of sincerity, Schuldig pressed on the part of the nurse's mind that did not want to deal with a creepy foreigner and suggested that another time might be to everyone's advantage. He could see her expression change, and savoured the little rush he felt as she realized that she could put off onto someone else a job she did not want to do herself.
"On the other hand, it might be best to wait for the boy's parents to return," she said.
"They should be back in a few days," Schuldig assured her. "Although the accident was tragic, it will be a great relief to not have to tell them I lost my little brother. Was he badly injured? When I called I was told he was well enough to be released."
"That is the strange thing," said the nurse. "He was buried in the rubbled, but aside from some heavy bruising and a number of cuts and scratches, he was fine. No broken bones, no internal injuries. We were afraid he might have hit his head because he suffered from terrible headaches at first and refuses to speak to anyone including the counselors we have on staff, but the doctors found no evidence of a concussion."
"An incident like that is very traumatizing," Schuldig said, suggesting a very neat conclusion to the whole affair.
The nurse paused and cast Schuldig a strange look as through she sensed him tinkering with her thoughts. Although it was more likely a change in routine that was bothering her, Schuldig prepared to bear down more firmly upon her mind. It was unnecessary; the nurse was soon distracted by the arrival of another.
"Ah, here he is now," the nurse said as a second nurse wheeled a sour-looking Nagi toward them. Schuldig grinned. Apparently rides in wheelchairs did not agree with his young teammate. "How are you feeling today, Yukio? You must be happy that your brother has come for you."
Nagi cast Schuldig a brief, angry glance and then looked up at the nurse and nodded once, his expression bland, but very polite. However, his brow furrowed in annoyance when he tried to stand and was gently, but firmly pushed back into his seat by the nurse pushing the wheelchair.
"Now, Yukio," she said, "you know you have to stay seated until you're out of the hospital." Nagi's expression was nuclear.
"I'll bring the car around," Schuldig said, biting back laughter.
By the time Schuldig pulled up in front of the building, the nurse had already wheeled Nagi to the edge of the sidewalk. Free of the hated chair, Nagi refused help getting into the car, although he winced as he fell into the seat. Schuldig thanked the nurse, who returned to the building, and was suddenly glad he had managed to restrain himself. Nagi's expression and impressions of annoyed irritation had amused him, but they had since vanished, replaced by a dismal, wounded look.
"You left me behind," he said.
"You were going to blow us up," Schuldig pointed out. "So, yes, we did."
He allowed Nagi a chance to absorb the answer. A slight shift in the boy's surface thoughts agreed that, while he did not like it, the answer was acceptable. He had survived - due either to his powers or to dumb luck - but it was ridiculous to think that anyone else might have.
"If it's any consolation, I went back to find you, but the place was already overrun with emergency vehicles. You put on quite a light show."
"Only you?"
In spite of his carefully controlled tone, Nagi sounded crushed. Schuldig sighed.
"Look, kid, would you have preferred I bring Crawford and Farfarello along? They could have carried a great big neon sign saying, 'Suspicious people near site of explosion!' and paraded up and down the street."
A smile flickered over Nagi's lips and briefly touched his eyes, but vanished as quickly as it had come. "You left me there for a week."
"Esset's been all over us, Nagi," Schuldig said, fingers drumming the steering wheel as he wove his way through the afternoon traffic. "We’re in the middle of their preparations, they have people coming and going that we're expected to escort, we have to plan for the arrival of the Elders, not to mention take care of that Fujimiya girl… Crawford thought it best that you recover in a place that was actually equipped to deal with medical emergencies, especially if you were badly hurt.
"Look," he added when his explanation did not seem to be enough, "Crawford saw you with us in the near future, so we knew you'd be all right. Getting left behind feels like shit, but we're one of the few groups who can calculate whether going back now would do more damage than going back later. It wouldn't have done you much good if we'd all died and you'd been the only one to live. For one thing, you would have had to talk to the damned nurses."
Nagi didn't smile, but he did relax a little and Schuldig sense that, while Schwarz was not forgiven, the team's motives were accepted.
"Why did you give them such a hard time anyway?" Schuldig pressed.
"They would have asked me what happened and how to contact you and my head hurt too much to make something up," Nagi said. "Also, I didn't want to talk to you. Can we get a drink?"
"I picked up some melon soda," Schuldig told him. "It's in the bag behind your seat if you can reach…"
He grinned as a bottle floated into the front of the car and landed neatly in Nagi's hand. "That was a stupid comment, I guess. I wasn't sure if getting hurt had…"
"No, I'm fine," Nagi said, twisting the cap off the bottle. "It was hard to do anything for a few days because I couldn't concentrate, but I'm okay now."
"I thought you'd be a lot worse off," Schuldig said.
"I thought I'd be dead," Nagi replied dully. "I didn't mind. But I guess I made a shield or something before the worst of the debris could hit me. I don't know. All I remember is not…not wanting her buried…"
Nagi's voice trailed off and Schuldig watched from the corner of his eye as he toyed with his bottled, running his finger around the lip and tapping a quiet rhythm on its side.
"I tried to… I hoped to…" Nagi said. "Was I the only one?"
"To survive? Yes," Schuldig told him, neglecting to mention that news reports listed fewer bodies than he had expected. Missing were four males - no doubt Weiss - and one female.
Schuldig saw no point in bringing it up. The rescue workers would not have known how many bodies to look for. They could have easily missed one. By the same token, if there was another survivor, Schuldig had no way of knowing which one it was. Better to let the kid think his girlfriend was dead. The match was doomed from the start.
Not that Schuldig minded the girl. He certainly didn't find her attractive, either physically or mentally, but to each his own. She made Nagi happy for a brief time, in spite of repeated warnings that she might become an enemy, and sneaking out to visit her gave Nagi something to do other than sulk around Schuldig. He was all right for a kid - smart, polite, fairly quiet, and possessing an acid wit when needed - but he was only fifteen and needed to get out once in a while instead of always hanging around people more than five years his senior. For one thing, it didn't look good, and, for another, two of those people were Farfarello and himself. Crawford, Schuldig allowed, could be seen as a parental figure and therefore didn't count.
Nagi was silent the rest of the way home and said little for the rest of the afternoon. He answered questions dutifully and did the few small chores he was asked to do - encryptions, mostly - before pleading fatigue and turning in for the night.
Schuldig also turned in early. Crawford was engaged with Esset's men and Farfarello was on the hunt, leaving him very little to do besides lie in bed, read a book, and periodically eavesdrop on the conversations downstairs. It was both a useful and entertaining task: he would be able to tell Crawford exactly what Esset thought of the situation and what they thought was that Schwarz was terrifying. Only the Elders terrified the more, which was why they were dealing with Crawford in the first place. He occasionally prodded at their nervousness, knowing that Crawford would delight in watching them squirm.
Schuldig was so engaged in his game that he failed to notice Nagi enter his room until the boy cleared his throat. Schuldig turned his attention away from the argument below and looked up at the boy who stood in his doorway doing his best to seem nonchalant, but twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers.
"What's the matter, kid? Can't sleep?" Schuldig said. Nagi seemed reluctant to speak, but a flood of confused and anxious thoughts filled Schuldig's mind. He tried to block them out with little success. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Yes," Nagi said after a moment's hesitation.
Schuldig supposed it was only natural; the kid had been through a hell of a time. Even so, Schuldig sensed there was more to it, an ongoing nervousness brought on, perhaps, by the inability to completely trust a team that would abandon him in a crisis.
"So what is it?" Schuldig prompted. "If you want to talk, come in and talk. Don't stand in the doorway all night."
"I want to sleep with you," Nagi said.
"You're fifteen!"
The exclamation sounded harsh, even to Schuldig, but the statement had caught him by surprise. He hadn't shared a bed to comfort Nagi since he first joined Schwarz and the boy had proven himself more than capable of taking care of himself since then. However, he relented when Nagi's feelings of nervousness suddenly spiked.
"Oh, all right," Schuldig said bitterly, pulling back the blankets. "Jump in. And don't snore, kick, or tell Crawford. He'll kill me."
Nagi wasted no time, crawling quickly between the sheets and Schuldig blessed Crawford for giving him a double bed. Even so, a double bed left little room for personal space and Schuldig soon found Nagi pressed against him. For comfort, Schuldig supposed, like the first night Crawford brought him home.
Schuldig waited for Nagi to settle in and then turned his attention back to the meeting, but he had been so thoroughly distracted by Nagi's entrance that the thread of the conversation was lost. Instead, he stretched out, intending to get some sleep. His eyes had been closed for no more than five minutes when he felt a pair of lips against his own.
The kiss was reluctant at first, but quickly firmed and Schuldig sat up quickly before it could go further. Nagi scrambled back, startled by Schuldig's reaction, and nearly fell off the bed.
"The Hell do you think you're doing?" Schuldig demanded.
"I want to sleep with you," Nagi said and Schuldig felt, for the first time, the weight that those words carried.
"And what makes you think I want to 'sleep' with you?" he snapped.
Nagi looked vaguely hurt as if the question stung, but was not wholly unexpected. "You like boys," Nagi said simply. "I've seen your magazines and the stuff you look at online."
"I don't download any of that!"
"You don't clear your settings either," Nagi said. "Sometimes the history, but never the cache. Or the cookies."
Schuldig fought the urge to ask what computers did with cookies. He was not a fan of technical explanations and it was not the issue.
"Okay, so I've looked at porn," Schuldig said. "That does not mean I want you in my bed…that way."
"You like other boys."
"Men!"
"They didn't look so old," Nagi said, twisting the blankets between his fingers. "No older than you…"
"Right," Schuldig said. "My age. Men my age. You are a kid."
Nagi said nothing. He merely looked away as his eyes brimmed with tears.
"Oh, don't fucking cry," Schuldig said, unnerved.
"I won't," Nagi said.
And he probably wouldn't, Schuldig knew. Nagi was not known for his weepiness. That, at least, was one less thing to worry about.
Even so, Schuldig found himself reluctant to throw Nagi from the room while he sat on the verge of tears. He gave the kid a few moments to compose himself and then tried a different approach.
"I could probably have put that better," Schuldig said. "But it's true, and you know it. I don't go in for kids. What I really want to know is why the hell you think you want to sle…to Hell with that. Why do you think you want to fuck me. I thought you loved that Schrient girl."
"I do love her…did love her," Nagi said miserably. "I only wanted to fuck you."
"Oh, thanks," Schuldig said. "That makes it all better."
"I'm not going to find anyone else like her," Nagi said.
That, at least, was an accurate assessment, Schuldig decided.
"And if I can't have someone I love, I want to have someone I care about and who cares about me. You're the only one who does, Schuldig."
"Crawford cares about you," Schuldig said. "I mean, he acts like a cold bastard sometimes, but…"
"That's not the same," Nagi protested.
Schuldig opened his mouth to disagree, but found he could not. Crawford did care about Nagi, but, no…it wasn't the same. Crawford might take care of his team, but he wasn't the sort to bandage wounds or harass someone out of a bad mood. Farfarello was handy with the first aid, but…
Well, thinking of Farfarello in his place made Schuldig shudder, even if Farfarello cared more about his vendetta than sexual encounters with either sex.
"This is why I told Crawford to let you mingle with kids your own age," Schuldig said. "If you see me as a caring guy, something is very wrong. Are you even attracted to other boys?"
"No," Nagi said. "Girls are much prettier. But that doesn't matter. Except for Tot, I haven't met a single one of them that I even liked, much less one who cared about me."
Schuldig sighed. "Okay, I get where you're coming from. But you're a kid and I'm still not going to sleep with you. In fact, I think it might better if you spent the night in your own room. You're still bruised up and I don't want to bump you during the night."
"All right," Nagi said, no more fooled by the excuse than Schuldig intended him to be. He climbed out of bed and headed for the hallway, but stopped in the doorway and turned. "I'm going to make you change your mind one day," he said.
"Maybe when you're my age," Schuldig replied.
III
"Christ, I think Crawford's unconscious."
Schuldig collapsed on the grass and prodded Crawford's mind. It was mostly blank with only residual thought patterns to show that a mind existed at all. At least he was alive.
"He's never done a mental battle before," Nagi said. "Really, Schuldig, you should have fought with Berger."
Nagi was the voice of calm. In spite of his haggard appearance, he spoke with a low, firm voice in a slow and regular cadence. It gave him an air of authority in spite of his wet coat, wan complexion, and bloodshot eyes. Schuldig was impressed.
"Let me see him," Nagi said and Schuldig helped him ease Crawford onto his side, head pillowed by his arm and tilted back to prevent choking. Once he was stable, Schuldig sat back and watched while Nagi knelt beside him and analyzed the physical shape of Crawford's injuries.
"Link us up, Schuldig. I want to see how his mind reacts to what I do."
Schuldig grinned. "Calling the shots now? Your little boyfriend has trained you well."
Nagi snorted, but Schuldig was already joining the three of them up, making it possible to share even the tiniest thought, if they were so inclined. When they were joined, Schuldig put aside his consciousness and watched Nagi at work.
Watched was a strong word. Schuldig could not really see what Nagi was up to, but he could sense it. It was the strangest sensation: he felt open wounds close up, blood drain from places it was beginning to pool and flesh begin to knit.
However, a beginning was all that it was. Once he was satisfied that Crawford was stable, Nagi sat back and breathed a deep sigh.
"That will do for now," he said. "I can't do any more."
"That was impressive enough as it is," Schuldig said. He checked his arms and found that even the burns he'd acquired from Geisel were healing. "Where did you learn that trick?"
"I think I could always do it," Nagi said, "but just recently learned how to control it. It's all just psychokinesis on a cellular level, after all."
Schuldig chuckled and rolled over onto the grass. "Just. Nagi, you fought off one of Rosenkreuz's special agents, held up most of a building so we could make our escape, and then stabilized our wounds. There's no 'just' about it."
"If you say so," Nagi replied, dropping down beside him.
"And I do," Schuldig said. Then he frowned. "You look like hell, kid. Are you all right?"
Nagi nodded. "I'm tired. That's all."
"Well, let's take a break and then get Crawford back to the hotel. You can stay with us a while and rest up," Schuldig said. He grinned. "Unless you have to get back to your boss."
"Mamoru is not my boss," Nagi said and Schuldig was disappointed by his lack of indignity. "We have done work together."
"You've done more than work together," Schuldig said.
This time he was rewarded with a reaction. A rush of embarrassment flooded Nagi's thoughts and, although he could not see clearly in the artificial light of the urban night, Schuldig was certain that Nagi was blushing.
"Sometimes," Nagi admitted. "But I don't come running when he calls."
"That's good to hear," Schuldig said. "Now we can lock you up and feed you nothing but room service until you tell us everything that's gone on since you left."
"You make it sound exciting," Nagi said tonelessly, "but nothing's happened that you don't already know about. I work against Esset, sometimes leaving information for you, sometimes sharing it with Mamoru."
Schuldig propped himself up on his elbows as Nagi sat up and leaned over him. For a moment, Schuldig thought he saw the gleam of tears in Nagi's eyes, but the boy's voice was steady as he spoke.
"You know, I wasn't sure I would see you again," Nagi said. "I wasn't sure I wanted to. But I'm glad you're both here now. I never did find one, you know."
"Find one?" Schuldig said.
"Someone who would care for me the way you did. The way you still do."
Schuldig smirked. "You can't be comparing me to your little Takatori friend."
"Mamoru can be ruthless," Nagi said. "I think you would get along very well. But as far as caring is concerned, he has a big heart. He tries to care for everyone at once and see to it that as many things work out as he possibly can. Do you feel him nearby, searching for me to see if I'm all right?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Schuldig listened closely to the minds in the area on principal. They were almost isolated on their little patch of grass in the dark; only the distant panic of emergency personnel could reach him.
"No," he admitted.
"Of course not," Nagi said. "He knows I can take care of myself. I'm very good at it. There are others who need his attention."
"Weiss?"
"Do you know what he will do with Weiss if they are injured? He will find someone to take care of them and then he will leave them because he trusts them to survive. There will be others injured in the explosion and he will see to it that they are cared for before moving on. He will make sure the firemen and paramedics have all they need and look for someone else to save."
Nagi looked down on Schuldig, captured him with his deep, dark eyes, and said, "What he will not do is threaten to personally drag me away and see to it that I am rested and fed. I'm selfish, Schuldig. I don't want someone to care for the world. I want someone who will care for me."
Schuldig laughed. He couldn't help it. "You sound like a spoiled little boy, Nagi. My age, I told you."
"I will never be your age," Nagi said, ever the voice of reason. "But I'm not a little boy anymore."
Schuldig sighed. The face above him was as handsome and the body before him as well formed as those of any magazine model. "No," he admitted. "No, you aren't. But you're still spoiled."
"Then perhaps you should spank me," Nagi said, sliding a hand up Schuldig's shirt.
"Do not even start with that," said Schuldig although he did not push Nagi away. "I'm not ready to explain to Crawford that I'm playing kinky games with his ward."
The corners of Nagi's mouth twitched upward. "He has to let go sometime."
"You know, I don't remember the last time you smiled," Schuldig said.
"I don't remember the last time I felt like I was home." Nagi said and kissed him.