Part 4

They all showed their anxiety in different ways. Aya was in his favourite pose, leaning against the hospital wall with his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at anyone who came into the room. He'd already scared off two nurses and an intern that way.

Youji was pacing back and forth, flipping a cigarette between his fingers. The duty nurse had given him a dirty look when he'd pulled it out, but he'd made no move to light it. He just needed the feel of it in his hands to help calm him.

Ken was slouched into one of the highly uncomfortable plastic chairs, legs stuck out before him and chin on his chest. He was watching Nagi, who had pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged in another chair. The younger boy was staring at a three-year-old little boy on the other side of the waiting room, who was playing with a set of blocks. Each time the boy reached for a block, it would slide out from under his hand. He would chase it, and it would slide away again, leading him in endless little circles. The child was squealing happily, and to anyone who didn't know what to look for, it just looked like he was pushing the block ahead of him. His harried mother certainly looked grateful her son was occupying himself relatively quietly.

Finally Manx appeared at the door, with a white-coated doctor beside her. She gestured at them, and they followed her down the hall to a little conference room. One wall of the room was a window into a treatment room, where the serial killer lay quietly on a bed, hooked up to multiple IVs and other machines.

Manx gave Nagi an odd look when he joined the others, but Aya reassured her with a nod. She shrugged, and gestured for the doctor to begin.

"The patient is in a coma," the doctor said, shuffling a few papers before him. "We've administered various tests, and it doesn't look like he's going to wake up. He's got severe hemorrhaging in the brain, a result of a chronic condition he's had throughout his life."

"You know who he is, then?" Ken asked, wide-eyed. The doctor nodded.

"Yes. His name is Paul Coleman. He's been in and out of hospitals and psychiatric wards for most of his life. I won't go into everything he's been diagnosed with - suffice it to say, he'd been confined some time ago to a mental institution in Osaka, which he escaped from several months ago."

"You're certain he's not going to wake up?" Aya asked, his voice harsh. The man shrugged helplessly.

"It is remotely possible, but it would take a miracle. And with the amount of brain damage he's already sustained, it's unlikely he would be at all coherent. As it is, it will only be a matter of days before he dies."

"But he has to wake up!" Ken blurted, aghast. "He's got our friend held somewhere right now! We have to know where to find him!"

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. We must be thankful that this will, at least, be his last victim. Though it's unfortunate that the body may never be recovered..."

The heavy oak table rattled in place as Nagi stood up, glaring at the man. "That's not acceptable!" he snapped, his look frosty enough to rival Aya's.

"I'm sorry. I wish I had better news." The doctor turned and left, Manx trailing after him.

Nagi clenched his fists and bowed his head, as Ken swore viciously. Aya stood. "We will continue searching," he said coldly. "We still have two days at least. We WILL find him."

"We don't have any leads!" Youji replied, throwing his hands up in despair. "We searched the house while we were waiting for the paramedics, and we found nothing! We don't even know where to start looking!"

"We can't just give up!" Ken cried passionately, slamming his hands on the table. "This is Omi's life we're talking about here. There has to be something we can do!"

"There might be a way."

Nagi spoke so quietly that they almost missed his voice. He'd moved to stand at the window, one hand resting against it, his eyes narrowed. "There might be a way," he repeated, but he didn't sound happy about the revelation.

"How?" Youji demanded.

He sighed, and bowed his head. "Somewhere inside that man's head is the location of his prison. If we can't wake him up to get him to tell us - maybe we can get inside his head and find it ourselves."

They stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending, before Ken finally caught on. "Schuldich."

Nagi nodded. "Schu could dig it out of his brain. It might take him a while with a mind that damaged, but he'd find it if anyone could."

"First we have to convince him to help us," Youji said bitterly. "What are the odds of that?"

"Not good," Nagi replied seriously. "There's no point in appealing to his soft side - he doesn't have one. Left to his own devices, he'd be more likely to sit back and watch us scramble, laughing the whole time at the fact that he was the one person who could save Omi. AND he'd use the information to blackmail me."

"I hear a 'but' in there somewhere," Ken said. Nagi nodded.

"Crawford continually tells us that we need you four alive. For what, I don't know. Even Farf knows he's not allowed to do any permanent damage, on pain of having his knives taken away."

"So we get Crawford to order Schuldich to help, is that it?" Youji asked. "And what are the chances of THAT?"

Nagi shrugged. "I don't know. It depends on how vital it is that all four of you be alive for whatever it is he's waiting for, I suppose. Though if it were truly important, I would think he'd have interfered in this already."

"And what will he do to you, when he discovers your relationship with Omi?" Aya asked him cynically.

Nagi's flat-eyed expression didn't waver, but Ken thought he might have tensed a little. "I suppose it depends on what his various actions will do to impact on the future he's trying to create," he answered with an attempt at a careless shrug. "At the very least, he'll probably ensure that Omi doesn't have a chance to have any more influence over me."

"Influence?" Ken repeated, frowning. Nagi stared at the table.

"Omi... is a bad influence on me, at least from Crawford's point of view. It's hard to hate the world when he's around." He gave a sort of crooked smile that looked like it was trying hard to be a smirk, but was losing the battle to wistfulness. "But it doesn't matter. If Omi dies, then it really won't matter very much if I can still get away with seeing him, will it? I'll talk to Crawford."

"We're coming with you," Aya said, with much the same tone of voice Nagi had used to make the same statement the day before. The Schwartz boy frowned.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. He may be more inclined to leniency if it doesn't seem like he's being 'soft' in front of his enemies. Then again..." he shrugged. "He might like the idea of you feeling like you owe him something. He's hard to figure, sometimes. It all depends on what his visions show him."

"We're going," Aya said again, and that was final.

After some debate, they agreed that it would be foolish for them to tramp right up to the Schwartz hideout. Nagi had no particular desire to be branded as a traitor by giving them information they hadn't had before. So he arranged for the American and the German to meet them at a cafe outside the hospital.

All three Weiss assassins were tense and on the edge of their seats as they waited for the Schwartz psychics to show. Finally the bell over the door jangled, and the two men sauntered in as though they didn't have a care in the world. Crawford had his usual superior attitude firmly in place, echoed by Schuldich's ever-present smirk as they approached the table.

"I presume you've got a good explanation for this?" The American asked Nagi in English. The boy shrugged, affecting a bored look.

Schuldich's lambent green eyes flicked over each of them in turn, and his smirk widened into a genuine smile as he began to chuckle. "What is it with you and fluff-brained 'innocents', Nagichen?" he asked, dropping a hand to ruffle the boy's hair in a patronizing manner. "First that Schreient chick with the mind of a five-year-old, and now Sugar-Shock Weiss boy?"

Nagi's eyes narrowed, and Schuldich was forced to take two steps back. The German's smirk turned into a dangerous look. "Don't play your little games with me, brat," he hissed, leaning against some unseen obstacle which kept him from moving back to the table. "I'll tear your mind apart from the inside out."

"Fine." Nagi shrugged again, but there was a glitter deep in his eyes as Schuldich abruptly staggered forward, the force he'd been pushing against vanishing in an instant. The fiery haired telepath growled menacingly, but was brought up short by Crawford's arm against his chest.

"Enough of this," he said in irritation. "Yes, Schuldich, we know you could turn Nagi's brain to mush, and we also know you couldn't do it before he ripped apart every major organ in your body. Now stop posturing at each other so we can get down to business."

Ken leaned over to whisper to Nagi, "Is it always like this?"

Nagi shook his head slightly. "Schu's being unusually civil today," he murmured back. Ken sat back with his eyes wide. Suddenly Aya's coldness and Youji's unceasing teasing didn't seem so bad.

"Omi has been kidnapped by a serial killer," Aya said stiffly, clearly uneasy at dealing with people he considered his enemies. "We've got a little over two days to find him at this point."

"Ho?" Crawford shrugged elegantly, his voice conveying his utter disinterest in the subject. "Why come to us?"

"Because we need Schuldich to find him. The man has been captured, but he's in a coma that he's not going to wake up from. In addition he's got severe brain damage, and he'll be dead in a few days. We have to find the location of his prison."

"And you think we'll help you because...?" Schuldich trailed off with a quirked eyebrow, sounding like he was enjoying having the upper hand over the White Hunters.

"Because you keep telling us we need them alive," Nagi answered, speaking directly to Crawford. "What will happen to your plans if Omi dies now?"

The Schwartz leader frowned and shot his youngest teammate a chilling glare. "I'd like to know just how you got involved in this," he said stiffly, again in English. Ken stifled a snicker. Apparently the American wasn't aware that all the Weiss assassins were more or less fluent in that language.

"I'll tell you how," Schuldich crowed with glee. He looked triumphant at having found something that would put Nagi in Crawford's bad graces. "Your little golden boy here has been cozying up to the Weiss brat for most of the last two months. And apparently he was HELPING him hack for missions for years before that!"

Nagi rolled his eyes. "I didn't know who he WAS," he muttered sullenly. "He was just another hacker on the net. And I met him before Weiss existed, anyway." Schuldich smirked at him.

"And why didn't YOU pick this up from his mind?" Crawford asked Schuldich, startling the telepath. Suddenly the German found himself on the defensive, and it was Nagi's turn to smirk at him.

"Because he's been so wrapped up in himself that he hasn't noticed my shields are nearly as good as yours now," Nagi said. "He hasn't been able to read me in months." The two psychics glared at each other heatedly.

"Enough!" Crawford said again, looking irritated. "We'll discuss this later," he said to Nagi. "As for the rest of you..." he frowned, and his gaze became unfocused, as though he were looking through the walls of the building at something on the far distant horizon.

Finally his gaze focused again, and he removed his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose as though staving off a headache. "The future is uncertain," he said, sounding slightly wearied. The Weiss assassins were fascinated - they'd never seen him actively using his powers outside of a fight. "This is a decision point. Any small change here will have major repercussions down the line. Only one thing is clear - all futures in which the Takatori brat dies are very grim for both our sides, though I'm not certain why."

"You mean we're actually going to help them?" Schuldich exclaimed in astonishment.

"No, YOU are going to help them," Crawford replied curtly, replacing his glasses. "And believe me, Schuldich - the consequences of failure will be very severe indeed, so keep that in mind when you're tempted to play games with them." He stood, and brushed at some imaginary dirt on his suit jacket. He fixed Nagi with an icy glare. "I expect you BOTH back at headquarters when this is finished. Schuldich, ensure Nagi returns - use force if necessary, but don't injure him permanently. Do you understand?" He asked them both. He got two sullen nods, and he turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

"Well, that was pleasant," Youji murmured, and Schuldich glared at him.

"Don't push your luck, Weiss," he snarled roughly. "I may have to help you find the brat, but if you piss me off, I'll tell the world your deepest secrets and leave you hanging in the wind."

"Lose the attitude Schuldich," Nagi snapped at him. "We don't have much time. This guy is seriously damaged - even you are going to have trouble getting inside his head."

Schuldich rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's see this psychopath of yours, so I can get this over with and go home."

They had to argue with the doctors to get Schuldich admitted to the patient's room, and finally Aya had to call Manx in to clear things. The statuesque red-head frowned at the sight of Schuldich, and he glared at her in return. "Right back at you, bitch," he muttered, flipping her off, though she hadn't said anything.

She gave him a cool look. "I've made the necessary arrangements," she said to Aya. "I hope you boys know what you're doing."

"We're saving Omi's life, hopefully," Youji replied tiredly. "If we have to deal with the devil to do it, so be it."

Manx arranged for their admittance, though Schuldich insisted he be alone in the room with the man. "Having all your thoughts buzzing at me will just confuse things," he told them shortly. "If you have to, watch through that one-way mirror on the wall, but for God's sake try to keep your minds quiet, will you?"

They did as they were told, watching tensely through the window as Schuldich took up position at the head of the bed, resting his hands lightly on the man's temples. He frowned in concentration, then his face went slack.

They watched for several long moments as the two figures remained nearly motionless. Schuldich's breathing had become synchronized with the unconscious killer's, and his eyes were fluttering rapidly beneath his lids.

Nagi frowned after the first five minutes. "Something's wrong," he said, pacing closer to the window. He stared at the two men for a long moment. "He's not usually this quiet. His face should be showing more expression." He moved for the door. "I'm going in."

Since he didn't tell them not to follow him, they all trooped into the room behind him. He moved to lay a hand on the telepath's arm, frowning in alarm when Schuldich didn't move.

"Schuldich. Schuldich! Snap out of it! Dammit!" He glared at the motionless man in the bed. "He's been caught in his mind. Stupid cocky telepath - he didn't bother to set his shields before going in. Schuldich!"

He shook the telepath, then reached up to slap him, hard - then stepped back and concentrated, and Schuldich was slammed back against the wall.

The German gasped and went rigid for a moment, then his eyes snapped open and he slumped to the ground, holding his head and moaning. "Verfluchte," he muttered, sounding like he was in a fair bit of pain. "Even Farfie's not THAT screwed up! Gott..."

Nagi crouched down before him, watching him with dark eyes. "You got stuck," he said quietly. Schuldich glared back at him.

"I know that, asshole!" he snapped back, grimacing. "Gott, that man has the most revolting mind I've ever had the displeasure of touching... it's disgusting."

"Did you find anything?" Ken asked urgently. Schuldich shifted his glare to focus on the ex-soccer player.

"It might take me WEEKS to sift through that... that..." Apparently he was unable to find an adjective vile enough to suit him, because he gave up and waved his hand in the direction of the bed.

"We don't have weeks!" Ken cried, despairing. Schuldich rolled his eyes.

"I can tell you this much. Just before this seizure hit him, he was planning to go somewhere. It's not where he's keeping the kid, but it IS related to it. He's got images of a giant tub, and a bunch of pails of liquid..."

"That would be the bleach," Youji interjected, excited. Schuldich frowned, then nodded slowly.

"Yeah, that would make sense. Explains some of the things he was thinking. Anyway, I think I can pry the location of THAT place out of him relatively easily. Then you can go dig through there while I try to get deeper into his head without driving myself insane." He hauled himself to his feet, but he was unsteady, wobbling slightly.

"I'll stay here to keep you from getting lost again," Nagi said quietly. "I'm the only one who can recognize the signs, and who knows what to do." Schuldich nodded curtly, sinking down into one of the chairs by the bedside.

"So?" Ken demanded impatiently. "Where is this place?"

Schuldich sighed. "Hold your horses, Weiss." He reached out with one hand to touch the man's head again, and this time his face didn't go lax. He pulled away after just a minute.

"He doesn't think of it in terms of streets and buildings, or even concrete directions. He just... knows how to get there." He sighed and raked his hand through his long orange hair. "Either I have to go with you, to show you how to get there, which will take time I could be using to dig into his mind..." he trailed off.

"Or?" Aya prompted him grimly.

"Or I shove it into one of your heads. It'll be a little disorienting, but you'll know basically where to go. Your choice."

"I'll take it," Youji said coming to stand by the telepath's side. "After Omi, I seem to be your favourite person to mess with. I guess having you in my head one more time isn't going to hurt me any now."

Schuldich smirked at him. "That's because you lie to yourself nearly as much - and as convincingly - as the brat," he told him airily. "That makes you both more fun to play with than these two," he waved at Ken and Aya. "Give me your hand."

Youji held out his hand, and Schuldich grasped it tightly, narrowing his eyes. Youji gasped and went rigid, hand gripping Schuldich's convulsively. Ken tensed, but Nagi made no move to interfere, so he didn't either.

Finally Schuldich released the lanky playboy, and Youji stepped back with a gasp, rubbing his temples. "That's going to give me one hell of a headache," he muttered sourly. Schuldich shrugged.

"The mind resents having information forced into it like that," he replied flippantly. "So what are you waiting for?" He turned back to the bedside, clearly dismissing them. Nagi silently wished them luck with his eyes.

Aya drove, Youji sitting in the passenger seat with his eyes half-closed, giving him directions from memory. Ken had to admit that the ability to instantly share information like that could come in handy once in a while, but he didn't envy Youji's experience.

The site, when they reached it, was a solid little brick building in a mostly deserted block of warehouses. There was no security system to speak of, so they broke down the door. Rubbing his shoulder where he'd thrown himself against the door, Youji remarked that Nagi's powers would have been useful.

Aya gave him a cool look. "Don't get too dependent on his abilities," he reminded them harshly. "He's only helping us until we get Omi back."

There was nothing of interest on the first floor, so they filed down the narrow staircase into the basement. There they found what they'd been looking for.

There was a large tub with pails of bleach beside it, as Schuldich had said. There was also a flat table, similar to an operating table, in the center of the room. Boxes and containers of various cosmetics were scattered over the worktable, in every shade imaginable. There were boxes of jewelry and other accessories as well, and dozens of identical dress shoes in every size lined up against one wall. Everything he needed to turn his victims into perfect little dolls. Mixed in with the cosmetics was a small bottle of chloroform, which he presumably used to knock out his intended targets.

What there weren't, were clues to where he was keeping the boys. They searched the room from top to bottom, and found nothing that might lead them to the location of the prison.

Ken paused in front of a little TV monitor that he'd noted before, looking at it. It was the only thing in the room that didn't serve an immediately identifiable purpose. "What, did he like to watch the afternoon soaps while working on his toys?" he asked in frustration.

Youji came over and studied it with him. "Turn it on," he suggested. Ken reached out and did so.

The picture flickered for a moment, then resolved itself, and they both gasped, bringing Aya running. All three stared at the screen in helpless fascination.

The image was of a small room with two glass walls. Inside was a bench and a toilet - and Omi. The boy had somehow jumped up and grabbed hold of a couple of pipes that ran the length of the ceiling, and he was alternately scrabbling at the roof and trying to jam what looked like water spouts on the pipe. The room was about half-filled with water, to the point where it would be nearly at Omi's waist if he were standing on the bench. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be rising at the moment.

"Omi!" Ken whispered in horror. There was no sound, but they could clearly see the look of terrified frustration on their youngest teammate's face as he pounded at the spouts. He'd already jammed about half of them with cloth, apparently torn from his shirt, as that garment was nowhere to be seen.

His mouth opened in a soundless shriek as the spouts abruptly came to life, spraying water in a torrential downpour. His grip slipped, and he fell to splash into the water. Quickly he scrambled up onto the bench, clinging to the wall as the waterline crept upward once more.

He was sobbing, shoulders shaking, tears joining the water running down his face. A few of the jammed spouts held, but most of them quickly soaked through the fabric and continued their rain of death, unchecked. His mouth formed words, and Youji spoke along with him, having learned how to read lips in his days as a private investigator.

"Please, someone, help me..." the playboy whispered, his voice harsh and choked with tears. "Minna-kun, help... oh god..." He turned away, covering his eyes with his hand, trembling. "I can't bear to watch..."

Ken felt tears on his own face as he stared at the screen, unable to bring himself to look away as the water continued its inexorable rising. He found himself praying along with his friend, helpless to do anything else.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5|

Return to Weiss Kreuz Page

Return to the Main Index

Email Miko no da