Author:
wispykittyRecipient:
daegaerTitle: A Lion Tamer
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing(s): Crawford, Schuldig, OC (also brief mentions of Farfarello)
Summary: Crawford gets a telepath of his very own.
Word Count: 1,861
Author's Notes: Set during Schuldig's last year at Rosenkreuz.
We are looking for a lion tamer, is what they'd told him, how they'd lured him in. You want to prove yourself? Schultz had asked him, You want to be trusted down the line, when important things come to pass and leaders are needed?
He'd said yes, of course.
He's wild, Schultz had warned him - He needs to be tamed, the headmaster had said. He is the most powerful telepath we've ever had at the school, and he's aware of that, which of course is where the danger lies.
He'd been intrigued based on description alone. Individuality and rebellion were not causes to be championed at Rosenkreuz, but somehow this kid had made it through the system with devil may care attitude intact, and if Crawford dared to be so bold, he'd hazard a guess that this German kid actually intimidated them.
That was exactly the sort of person he was after.
Brad Crawford had spent his lifetime observing others, taking time to understand how control worked and authority was gained. It was one of the few things he could thank his father for. He'd been taught at a young age that in this world, the powerful survived, and that power was not only granted but also gained. You did not have to be stronger than your competitor, nor did you have to be smarter.
You just had to understand motivation. What made a person tick? What were they seeking, and how could you grant them their wishes? His father had been an authoritarian ruler - and he was grateful for that, because there before his own young eyes he'd been a witness to everything that did not work. You could not rule through fear - no one was powerful enough to take those risks and survive.
A great leader was one who insinuated some level of equality - one who dangled just enough to ensure the snare of the trap remained shut, but without giving off a feeling of being caged. He'd spent years refining his skills, gaining the trust of others (whether or not they were even willing to admit that trust outright) and now he was finally being granted the ability to show off his skills.
He was being given a team, they were passing him the reigns of leadership.
But it wasn't enough simply to lead, for a great leader first ensured that those he was leading were worthy of his efforts - otherwise what was the point?
If there was one skill he'd always harboured a spark of jealousy for, it was telepathy. It would cut out so much time, understanding a person's motivation before even speaking a word of greeting. After all, he was not so naïve as to think reading a mind would solve every problem - you also had to understand how to use the information you could retrieve to reach the desired result.
So the first addition to his team he'd asked for was a telepath. It had been a ballsy request, because telepaths (truly useful ones, at least) were both in high demand and suffering a low rate of turn over. If he were to believe his visions of the future, he knew he'd be granted a telepath eventually - but he hadn't expected one so soon.
“I thought I might tempt you with an advance screening of him, the one I had in mind for you.”
Crawford followed the older man into the room, looking through the one-sided window. “Physical training, an interesting class to witness,” he remarked as he took the chair next to the headmaster, his hands clasped together in his lap. Schultz had not bothered to point out which one he was supposed to be watching, because that was for Crawford to figure out on his own.
So he kept his eyes on the class, looking each student over in turn. By the time he got to the kid with the shaggy red hair, his breath caught in his throat. The student was standing with arms crossed over his chest, defiance radiating from every pore - staring at the window. This in itself might not seem like much to an outside observer, but Crawford had spent years in these halls, and he knew every room like the back of his hand. This window was not visible from inside the gymnasium.
“He knows we're here, and he knows where we are based on the angles you're seeing him from,” Schultz had explained - and it was not often that Schultz ever explained.
“He is as skilled as you said. I didn't notice him in my thoughts.” The admission was no secret after all - Schultz only knew how powerful this boy was because he was the one who'd trained him.
The older Austrian nodded in response and was silent for a few moments as they watched the young German watching them. “No one ever notices him.”
No one, Headmaster, not even you? Crawford did not need to ask the question out loud, because Schultz had just offered the answer.
“If you'll watch, you'll see he has already begun formulating strong ties of his own,” Schultz gestured to the window again, and Crawford watched as an even younger boy was brought into the room. He had only one eye.
He stabbed it out himself. Crawford narrowed his eyes as he looked back at the young German. You were brought here to watch me; so watch me. A smirk adorned the lips of the telepath and Crawford did as asked, watching as the boy fought alongside the one-eyed child, quickly dispatching the rest of the class. The telepath was a specimen of physical superiority - his speed and agility making up for any lack of muscle.
Crawford was impressed - and he hadn't even paid that much attention to the other kid. Obviously, if Schultz had brought him here to observe this moment, then it was inferred that along with the telepath would come the other child. There was something eerily familiar about them both, so Crawford would accept whatever Eszett chose to throw his way.
“We are looking for a lion tamer,” Schultz had spoken the moment they'd sat down in his office. “He may be powerful, but he's wild. He needs to be tamed.”
Crawford had allowed himself a small smile then. “My reputation for manipulating my team members precedes me, I assume?”
Schultz mirrored his smile before offering him a small glass of Tyrolean Latschenschnaps, “for your health.” Crawford took the glass, quickly downing the shot of liquor. It was not unlike Schultz to leave a question long enough for the other party to forget they'd ever asked it.
“When will he be available to me?”
“He will graduate in the spring,” Schultz began, “and you can have him directly after. A word of caution, Crawford,” the Austrian called a rare look of something akin to concern to his eyes. “He is the most powerful telepath we've ever had at the school, and he's aware of that, which of course is where the danger lies. You must be careful with him.”
“Careful for myself, or careful for him?”
Schultz smiled before pouring himself another shot. “He is, dear, to me,” was all he said before downing the liquor and standing up. “I trust you will handle him well.”
Crawford stood as well and extended his hand to Schultz. “I will handle him well, I assure you of that.”
Spring had come and Crawford was sitting in Schultz's office, waiting patiently for his telepath to arrive. Graduation had just occurred, and when he next left the compound, it would be in the company of the red headed German teenager. The door opened then and Crawford turned his head to look, his eyes widening just slightly in intrigue.
His redhead was now green.
“It wasn't a mistake, you know,” the telepath offered, walking over to lean against Schultz's desk. “It's green on purpose.”
Crawford nodded, faintly amused and wondering what the green was supposed to signify. They were then joined by Schultz.
“Everything is squared away, both of you are free to go.” He moved to the cabinet behind his desk, pulling out a bottle and three little glasses. “But first, indulge me in tradition.”
Crawford kept his eyes on Schuldig, taking in his appearance, while Schuldig kept his eyes on Schultz.
“No more testing, Gregory, just finish training him. If your people somehow manage to break him before he joins us, I won't be pleased,” Schuldig accepted the shot he'd been handed by the older man.
"There is no need for further discussion, Schuldig. He will be ready for you in three years. I assure you that I will personally observe his progress." The Austrian was fighting a frown, something that intrigued Crawford. What were they speaking about? And why was Schuldig granted the ability to speak so freely to the headmaster?
Do you remember that day when you came to watch me destroy my classmates? Schuldig's voice sounded in Crawford's head, and the American didn't bother searching for those memories because the telepath had already brought them to the front - the picture of a silver-haired child all he could see. He'll be joining our team. He's a little on the crazy side, but he's a valuable fighter. He's also highly loyal to me.
Crawford did not reply to the telepath, except for a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. Schultz had not been joking - this one wasn't going to be easy to manage.
"Make it two years, Gregory. I don't want to risk him growing attached to anyone else," the teenager swirled the liquor around in his glass before eyeing the Austrian and smirking.
Schultz did not answer, but instead turned to Crawford, forcing a smile. “To your lion, Crawford!” He raised his glass in a toast and the others met the salute before throwing the fiery liquid down their throats.
Schuldig gently placed his glass back on the desk before looking at Crawford and grinning. “Shall we?”
Crawford stood and nodded toward the door before turning one last time to Schultz. “My appreciation for being so accommodating, head master.”
Schultz smiled in return. “We only act in such ways to bring glory to Eszett, do we not? May your team grow and strengthen over time, Crawford. It was a pleasure doing business.”
The men did not shake hands, because the deal had been inked months ago. Crawford turned to the exit, walking in to the hall to find Schuldig perched beyond the door. Before leaving he spoke a final comment to Schultz. “Ensure he's taken care of, Gregory, otherwise you will find yourself at the mercy of a lion.”
Gregory Schultz did not respond, but instead sat down behind his desk again and poured himself another glass, listening as the footsteps moved further away, hearing the faint click of a door closing in the distance. He brought his glass to his lips, which were now curved in a slight snarl. “Such insolence,” he whispered, before throwing his head back to taste the Tyrolean drink. “Good luck, Crawford. May you have success, or at least a quick death.”