Part 14

When the shadow illusions had abruptly dissipated, leaving the Greek telepath clearly visible up in the trees, Omi immediately reached for more darts and drew his hand back to throw them.

He was hit from behind and the side by a much larger body in a flying tackle, and he went down in shock. Crawford very nearly got a lethal dose of poison jabbed into his arm as Omi twisted to defend himself from his attacker - luckily for the American, Omi recognized him at the last second and dropped the darts.

"Hold your fire!" the precognitive snapped, loud enough for all of them to hear. "Lukas has him locked in a mental duel - if you kill one of them right now, you kill them both!"

Omi glanced over to where Lukas was slumped against a tree, staring sightlessly ahead, then back up to their enemy. He realized the older telepath was in exactly the same position, clearly oblivious to the world around him. At that moment he was just slightly grateful that neither Ken nor Aya had long-distance weapons of any kind - he wasn't entirely certain he'd put it past them to kill Emmanuel and claim later that they hadn't understood what Crawford was trying to say. Having Lukas as a casualty wouldn't matter a great deal to either of them.

Crawford stood and offered him a hand up - after a moment, Omi accepted it, dusting himself off and looking around. "Is there anyone else?" he asked the precognitive.

"No," Crawford shook his head. "All the futures where we faced anyone in addition to Emmanuel are now closed. He came alone. Now it's up to Lukas."

There was a startled exclamation from one side, then the sound of metal hitting the ground with a dull thud. "Ken!" Aya exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside his lover and taking him by the shoulders. "Ken, wake up!"

One look made Omi's heart plunge into his stomach - Ken had the same far-away, glassy-eyed look as the two telepaths. "Is he still breathing?" he asked urgently, trotting over to Aya's side. "Abyssinian, is he still alive?"

"He's breathing, his heart is beating, but..." Aya looked at his lover's blank expression and shuddered. "There's... there's nothing inside..." Omi put a hand on Aya's shoulder and squeezed gently, and for once the stoic redhead accepted the tacit offer of comfort. Omi knew this had to be far, far too similar for Aya to seeing his beloved little sister in a coma, knowing she might never wake up.

He glanced up, starting to look around for his own lover, but Youji dropped down on Ken's other side before he could even start to worry. "Is he going to be okay?" the playboy asked Crawford, and the rest of them turned to see his expression when he answered.

The American hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "There are too many variables in play at the moment. He IS still in there - his mind wasn't shattered, just driven into hiding. It's a matter of whether it can be coaxed back out again." He glanced over his shoulder at his partner. "If Lukas survives this battle, he should be able to bring him back with little trouble. If not - it depends on how stubborn he is, and how much effort the three of you put into calling him back."

Omi didn't even need to look at the others to know their answer would be the same as his - they'd all sit by Ken's bedside for the next ten years, if that was what it took, so long as they knew there was a chance it would bring their friend back to them.

But hopefully it wouldn't matter - Omi would put money on Schuldig against any other telepath anytime, regardless of the state of his memories. But even as he thought that, there was a choked cry from behind them, then a scream that was not a sound that any human throat should have been capable of producing.

He turned and stared - Lukas was curled on the ground, tucked up in an almost foetal position, his hands clamped over his ears as he screamed. "No..." Crawford breathed, and there was as much pain in his expression in that moment as there had been in Nagi's the other day. "God, no..."

"What's happening?" he demanded, wincing when his voice came out high and shrill. He was riding the edge of hysteria, he knew - too much had happened in too short a time. "What's wrong with him?"

"It triggered the memory his mind has been running from all these years," Crawford replied, his voice broken and eyes narrowed. "I was afraid it might be something connected to a mental battle like this - killing with his powers is something Schuldig always flatly refused to do, though he himself admitted he didn't have a good reason for not wanting to. His mind is destroying itself under the strain. And if we're very unlucky, he might take us with him."

Omi's eyes widened and he held his breath, searching within his mind for the tug that always signalled the activation of his link with Schuldig. There was nothing, though - nothing but the empty blankness that had been there since Schwartz had first been attacked.

"What do we do?" he asked helplessly after a moment. "There must be SOMEthing..."

"Get Ken out of here and taken care of," Crawford ordered, slowly edging towards the writhing telepath. "Emmanuel is already dead. I'm going to try to reach him - the link between us might let me get close enough to touch his mind. If so, there's a chance I can talk him down."

Omi caught the American's arm, giving him a hard look. "If you link with him, what happens if he self-destructs?" He knew the answer before he even asked, from the look on the older man's face. "And what are the chances you'll be able to bring him back?"

"Slim to none," Crawford admitted, yanking his arm out of Omi's grip and stepping forward again. "But I have to try." Before Omi could stop him again, he'd reached Lukas and dropped to his knees beside him, drawing the shaking telepath against his chest and cradling him like an injured child.

Omi stood there for a moment more, staring at them. Crawford had as much as admitted he was committing suicide. Would I do differently, if it were Youji's life at stake? he asked himself. Then another thought blindsided him... Would I do differently, if it were Schuldig and not Lukas?

"Balinese, Abyssinian, take Siberian back to the Villa and get him comfortable. Make sure you check him for injuries and signs of shock," Omi ordered, making his decision. Crawford had kept his voice low enough that he didn't think any of the others would have heard what he'd said. "I'm going to help Crawford try to snap Lukas out of this fit before he hurts himself."

He stepped forward. He didn't dare turn around - if he met Youji's eyes, his lover would be able to tell that he was hiding something, something awful. I'm sorry, Youji, he mentally begged his lover for forgiveness. I love you with all my heart... but I love him, too, and I can't let it go like this. If Crawford has a chance of saving him, maybe the two of us together will have a better chance.

He wasn't a telepath, or even a psychic. He had no idea how to go about insinuating himself in a telepathic link. Schuldig had always been the one to draw him into the link, he hadn't invited himself. He crouched beside Crawford, who had his eyes closed and was apparently oblivious to the world around him. Reaching out, he shifted some of the telepath's weight into his grip, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Plunging his consciousness deep inside his mind as Schuldig had taught him, he searched for that place where part of him trailed away into the distance, the place where his mind was inextricably linked with his Master's.

The moment he 'touched' it, he screamed, his entire body wracked with pain, terror, and a horrible sense of suffocation. If this was what Crawford was feeling, he had no idea how the precognitive had managed to stay impassive through the experience.

Then rational thought was lost to him, as he found himself caught in a screaming stampeded of maddened, terrified people. There were dead bodies everywhere, and more piling up as the mob crushed themselves to death against the walls or in the too-narrow doorways. Every death pulled at him, sucked out a tiny bit of his soul, trying to drag him down with it.

He struggled to pull himself away, to give himself a tiny bit of breathing room. Something latched onto him by the proverbial scruff of the neck, hauling him up until he was watching the scene from above, rather than from within.

*You psychotic little idiot, what the hell do you think you're doing?* It wasn't a 'voice' in the sense that Omi was used to telepathy being clear words strung on a mental thought - instead it was more of an impression of intent, anger, and worry, with an overtone that conveyed that general sentiment. After a moment, he was able to 'see' a vague, shadowy outline of Crawford - except it was a much younger Crawford, as he might have looked in his late teens or early twenties.

*You're not the only one who loves him, damn you!* Omi snapped back, the words a wash of anger/pain and hurt, mixed with anguish and fear and desperation. *I don't care if he never remembers me, I just want him alive and happy!*

He sensed hesitation from Crawford, then reluctant assent. *You realize we're both doomed,* the precognitive informed him almost cheerfully, clearly resigned to his fate. *He's strong enough that we'll never break free of him, and if there were a way to snap him out of this, I'd have Seen it years ago when I first tried to find a way to restore his memories.*

*Yeah, and there's no possible way four non-psychics should have been able to defeat even one of Estet's Elders,* Omi shot back. *Just chalk this down as my 'impossible thing before breakfast' for the day.* That actually startled a laugh from the American.

*We have to try to reach him,* Crawford said, gesturing down at the centre of the maelstrom of death and destruction below them. Omi squinted, and could just make out a teenager, younger than he was, with short-cropped orange hair at the centre of the mess. The boy's wide green eyes were open, staring blankly into nothing, and every time he screamed, someone else in the room died.

That's Schuldig? he found himself marvelling, taking a moment to just study the teen. If someone had asked him to picture the German without his long fall of red hair, he wouldn't have been able to do it. He certainly never would have recognized his lover's younger self if Crawford hadn't pointed him out, even with the clue of the distinctive colouring.

They both plunged back into the mess, fighting against the tide of people trying to stampede the exits. There seemed to be no end to the people, and after a moment Omi realized that he was seeing the same people go by again and again. *It's a memory loop,* Crawford told him, shouting over the cacophony. *We need to break him out of it before his mind destroys itself to escape!*

Taking a deep breath, though he knew he didn't actually have a physical body to breathe with here, Omi ducked his head and started squirming between the never-ending stream of bodies. Once he had the pattern memorized, he was able to make better progress. A step to the left here, then two paces forward, then a quick turn to the right...

Finally he was in the clear space around the telepath's shivering body. Well, clear of live people - there were bodies scattered everywhere, and they all had the same face. He glanced at Crawford, who had followed him through the crowd. The American squinted for a moment, then shrugged.

*Dekane. He was the fire arms Instructor for the Institute. From some things Lukas has said, I think he might have been present on Lukas' first field assignment. Presumably he died here - that would have affected Lukas very strongly, they seem to have been close.*

Omi nodded, and stepped over the bodies until he reached the boy. Lukas at this age was a bit taller than he was, but just as slender in body. They probably could have worn the same size clothes, he thought with surprise. *Schuldig... Lukas!* he corrected himself, reaching out to touch the boy's shoulder. "Lukas, it's all right, this isn't really happening! It's all a memory..."

The moment he touched the telepath, everything changed. With a sickening drop that nearly cost him his dinner, he found himself in a place of endless... nothing. Not blackness, because blackness was something. Not vacuum, because vacuum was something. This place literally held nothing, except for his mental image of himself, the boy he was holding, and Crawford on the boy's other side. *Wha...*

*I... don't know,* Crawford admitted, startled. *I've never seen anything like this. I think... I think he's lost, and so we've become lost with him.*

*How do we find the way out?* Omi asked, looking around. The nothingness was hurting his eyes, making him want to squeeze them shut. The human brain just wasn't set up to deal with the concept of true nothingness.

*I don't know,* Crawford repeated, quietly, sounding more than a little lost himself. Omi looked over at him. He didn't just look younger, he sounded younger, too. Gone was the imperious, always-in-control, confident leader of Schwartz. Was this how he thought of himself? Was this how he had looked when he had been friends with Lukas the first time? He didn't look too much older than Omi was. Impulsively, Omi held out his free hand.

After a startled moment, Crawford reached out and accepted it. The three of them floated there, forming a triangle. It was almost appropriate, Omi thought to himself. Crawford on one side, representing the telepath's past and the side of him that was Lukas. Omi on the other, to represent the telepath's more recent history, and the part of him that was Schuldig. The only thing that would have been more appropriate was if it were Nagi, rather than Omi...

As if the thought had summoned him, there was a brush against his mind, then a pale, slender hand slid over his own, twining weak fingers around his hand and Lukas' both. Omi looked up in surprise, to see that Nagi had done the same on the other side, holding tightly to Crawford's hand on that side. *Nagi! What are you doing here?*

*Greeneyes brought me,* the pet replied quietly. *He said to tell you that if you don't get yourself the hell back there in one piece, he'll take it out of your hide.* That made Omi laugh, weakly. *I think he'd have come himself, but he doesn't have a link to Gebieter like we do.*

*You're both fools,* Crawford told them irritably, but Omi felt his grip squeeze a little tighter. *Now all three of us are trapped here.*

*I'd rather die than live without him,*Nagi said, all of the conviction he'd gained in the past few days strong in his voice. It made Crawford blink and look at him in surprise. Under different circumstances, Omi might have giggled at the precognitive's shocked expression. *But I've come this far, I'm not going to give up now without a fight. Let's wake him.*

*How?* Omi demanded. He nodded at the unconscious boy they were all holding onto. *He hasn't responded to anything yet. He may be gone already.*

*He's still here,* Nagi assured him. *Or we wouldn't all be connected like this. His telepathy is locked in a loop - so let's use empathy to break it.*

Crawford looked like he'd been shot. *Empathy, of course! We're all close enough to him, have strong enough feelings for him that together, we might be able to break through the loop by projecting at him.*

*And if that doesn't work, we can always try stripping down and screwing,* Omi suggested, half seriously. *I never did know him to be able to sleep through someone doing THAT right next to him.*

*Concentrate,* Nagi reminded them all sharply. They all closed their eyes, and focused hard on the ways in which they each individually loved the man they were risking their lives to save.

For Omi, the easiest memories to recall were the ones from early in their relationship. The day Schuldig had first claimed him, saving him from being gang raped. The first time he'd gone to a club with his new Master willingly, what he'd learned there about pain and pleasure and the way the two could mix. More importantly, what he'd felt when Nagi and Schuldig had accepted him into their relationship without question, without hesitation, and rebuilt his self-esteem from the ground up.

Nagi had so many memories to chose from it was hard to pick, so he simply let them all swirl through him in a collage. The time and effort Schuldig had put into retraining his pet, carefully leading him into being able to make his own decisions, praising and coaxing him and never, ever punishing him except in ways they both found enjoyable. With Schuldig, Nagi had learned that life didn't have to be painful, and that there were good Masters out there as well as bad.

Brad's contribution was a welter of memories of Lukas as a child - the awkward, half-finished look of him as a young teenager, the way he would flush and lose his temper over the least little bit of teasing. The way their friendship had grown, until Brad had received the vision that told him of the possibility of winning free of the Institute, with Lukas at his side. The utter devastation he'd felt when he'd found Lukas again as Schuldig, and realized that any chance of having his friend back was gone. And finally, the heart-wrenching decision between keeping Lukas for himself once Emmanuel had restored that part of the telepath's memories, or giving him up once more for Nagi's sake.

Somewhere the memories and outpouring of feelings met in the middle, swirled together, and slowly sank into the boy now lying cradled between the three of them. Green eyes opened slowly, at first staring unseeing at the nothingness, then turning to each of them in turn.

*Brad?* his mental voice was hesitant, almost shy. *Brad, I... I never knew... how strongly you felt...*

*Now you do,* the American replied, his own voice not quiet steady. *I have always loved you, my friend, and I always will.*

Deep inside, Omi felt a sharp pang of disappointment. He'd almost hoped, with two of them projecting memories of Schuldig rather than Lukas, that it would be Schuldig who would return to them. But at the same time, he was torn between sorrow for Nagi and happiness for Brad. Now that he had some idea of just what the precognitive had been through, waiting for Lukas... how could he deny him a chance to be happy at last?

The emotion must have drawn the telepath's attention to him, because suddenly the green eyes were fixed on him. *Katzchen,* the German murmured, his voice turning the word into a caress, as he always did. *Always putting other before yourself. You worry about breaking Liebe's heart, or Brad's, but not your own? I felt what you sent me, Katze. And you know you're always welcome, wherever I am. I love you, Katzchen.*

Omi stared at him, eyes wide, hardly daring to even think for fear that the wrong emotion might shatter this dream. He'd said... he'd called him... but then, did that mean...

The telepath's attention had already turned away from him, and he tugged his hand free of Omi's. Omi let go, and he raised it to brush the hair out of Nagi's face. *Liebechen,* the telepath murmured, the love in his voice clear. *My Liebe. Can you ever forgive me for hurting you, abandoning you? I wouldn't blame you if you didn't... I broke my promise to you.*

Nagi said nothing for a long moment, just staring in disbelief, much as Omi imagined he had done. *Gebieter?* he finally managed, his mental voice little more than a squeak. *It's... it's really you? You don't hate me any more?*

Schuldig... it had to be Schuldig... pulled the telekinetic into the mental equivalent of a strong hug. *Never,* he swore fiercely. *Not even when I didn't understand, I never hated you. I'm so proud of you, Liebe. You did so well, you've been so strong.*

Nagi flung himself more fully into his Master's 'arms', weeping helplessly. Omi turned to Crawford, who now had a sort of resigned expression on his face as he tried to pull his hand free of Schuldig's. To Omi's surprise, the telepath tightened his grip and turned a predatory smile on his leader. *Where do you think you're going? I waited how many years to get my hands on you again? I'm not letting you go any time soon, Brad.* He looked at Nagi. *You don't mind sharing me with Brad, right Liebe?*

Astonished at the very thought, Nagi shook his head, making Schuldig laugh. *So unless you're going to object to me keeping Liebchen as my sub, I think you're pretty much stuck with me,* he informed the American almost gleefully.

Now it was Crawford's turn to gape openmouthed at the telepath. *You... which ARE you, Lukas or Schuldig?*

Green eyes softened. *Both, old friend. Both. The worst has happened, I faced the memory I was running from, and it broke me. But the three of you, together, brought me back. I'll bet you never bothered to check and see if there was a way to get my memories back after Omi came into my life, did you?*

*No,* Crawford admitted thoughtfully. *I'd long since given up by then. It never occurred to me that having more people with a link to you might make a difference.*

Schuldig laughed. *Just goes to show you're not the all-seeing omniscient being you'd like people to think, hmm? Now, I suggest we all get back to our physical bodies before your teammates start having fits, Katzchen. And if I remember correctly, I need to pull Hidaka back into his head, don't I? Won't take me more than five seconds.*

Omi joined Nagi in hugging their lover tightly, tugging on Crawford's hand and dragging the older man in after him. *Anything you want, Gebieter. After all, you ARE the Master!*

Glittering green eyes looked sideways at Crawford. The American raised an eyebrow. *Not in this lifetime,* he said coolly, his mental tone as much amusement as refusal. *You may keep as many subs as you can handle, but unless you're willing to consent to be MY sub again, BDSM will not be a part of your relationship with me.*

*Err, no,* Schuldig rolled his eyes and shook his head. *I think most of us remember how badly THAT turned out. Besides,* he laughed. *I suppose even I need some vanilla in my life once in a while!* He sighed, and hugged them tightly again before releasing them. *C'mon, lovers. Let's go home.*

Home... Omi thought nothing had ever sounded so good in his life.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6| |Part 7| |Part 8| |Part 9| |Part 10| |Part 11| |Part 12| |Part 13| |Part 14|

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