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Part 5 They turned the location over to the police for investigation, but not before hauling Nagi out there so he could put a tap on the video feed. They'd half hoped that he would somehow be able to follow the signal back to its source, but he'd dashed that idea pretty quickly. All they could do was watch, and wait. Watch Omi, on a nine-inch screen they'd smuggled into the hospital conference room, struggling in the rising water. Watch Schuldich through the one-way mirror, fighting his way through the morass of a madman's mind. Watch as the minutes and hours ticked by, adding inches to the level of the water in the cell. By the dawn of the fourth day of Omi's imprisonment, they'd all just about given up hope. The youngest Weiss hadn't gotten any sleep in at least two days, and was having to tread water constantly now just to stay afloat. He was clearly exhausted, his strokes beginning to falter occasionally, sending him plunging under the water for a brief moment before he surfaced again, sputtering. Youji and Aya had taken to staying as far away from the monitor as they could, unable to watch their friend's struggle, but Ken and Nagi watched the screen almost obsessively. As Ken put it, "If he dies, even if he has to die thinking he's alone, I won't let him go without someone noticing." Schuldich wasn't faring much better than Omi. He'd been buried in the killer's mind almost constantly, coming out only occasionally to re-orient himself to the real world. Nagi had told them quietly that what Schuldich was doing was far more dangerous than they realized - there was a very real possibility that the telepath could lose himself forever in the twisted tunnels he was traveling through. The risks he was taking didn't endear him any to the Weiss assassins, since he was clearly doing this against his will, but it did keep them from pushing him quite as hard. Just as well - the lanky German was worn nearly to a thread, his skin so pale it was translucent, sweating beading up on his forehead. He spent one hour of every five as far away from the man as he could get in the small hospital, trying to pull his scattered thoughts back together. Each time it took him longer to return to himself, and he would spend several minutes staring into space and babbling incoherently in English. Occasionally he'd force himself to sleep for a brief time, and none of the White Hunters could begrudge him that rest. They could all see the toll this was taking on him. The things he spoke of while wandering the man's mental pathways slowly formed into a disturbing image of a life filled with pain and punishment. The killer had grown up in the 'Deep South' - a place that Schuldich told them apparently referred to somewhere in the southern United States. His parents had been strict and stern, infused by a cold passion for the teachings of the church. They lived their lives as closely in accordance with the bible as they were able, and when they caught their only son engaging in 'the acts of a sodomite', they attempted to 'beat the devil out of him'. All of the Weiss members were sickened by the story of what the man had lived through in his turbulent childhood, punished again and again for a natural inclination that he could no more have changed, then he could have stopped being male. Already unstable, young Paul Coleman had been pushed over the edge into an insanity in which he believed that his attractions were acts of the devil, tormenting and testing his 'good Christian soul'. He had set out to punish the vehicles 'Satan' sent to tempt him, drowning the evil out of them in a twisted sort of baptism. Then he dressed the 'cleansed' bodies in finery and left them to be found, proud to have rid the world of some of the devil's influence. He had come to Japan when the police in the States came too close to catching him. Ken had been outraged, ranting during one food break against the depravities of parents who would subject their children to that kind of torture for any reason, much less something they couldn't help. He was brought up short by the twin looks of disbelief on Nagi and Schuldich's faces. "You're as idealistic as Omi!" Nagi exclaimed, frowning at him. "Do you really believe that kind of thing is so rare?" Ken blinked at him in shock. "The reason there are so few psychics in the world," Schuldich added wearily from where he was half-slumped over the table, staring blearily into a protein shake, "is because most children have the ability beaten or otherwise crushed out of them at an early age. Those of us who keep our powers are simply too strong to be denied - and most of us are as insane as Farfarello, or worse, because of it." "For some children all it takes is constant admonitions that they shouldn't tell 'lies' or 'tales'. No one believes in their powers, and they get in trouble for using them, so they learn to suppress them." Nagi poked restlessly at his own dinner. "Eventually suppression becomes truth, and they forget that their ability was ever anything other than childish fancy. For those that don't learn that self-defense mechanism early enough - well, it's amazing how often psychic ability can resemble being 'possessed by a devil', and it's equally amazing what lengths parents will go to in order to 'purify' their child." The two Schwartz psychics exchanged an identical distasteful look, the closest thing to agreement the White Hunters had seen pass between them. The subject didn't come up again. At noon on the fourth day, Youji entered the little conference room where they'd set up camp with an armload of food. None of them had been eating much, but they kept making the gestures. He found Aya and Ken watching Nagi, who was staring fixedly at the little television screen. Curious, he moved to see what they were looking at. The image in the monitor hadn't changed as far as he could see. Omi wasn't swimming any more - the water had gotten high enough that he could latch onto the pipes in the ceiling, and hold onto them to keep himself above water. He dangled limply from them, looking grateful for the reprieve but still terrifyingly aware of his danger. There was only a few feet of space between the water level and the ceiling now, and all the jets had been on full force for the last few hours. It was coming down to the wire, and they were no closer to finding him than they had been when they'd started. "What's going..." he started, and Ken violently motioned him to be quiet. He fell silent, nonplussed. Aya drew him a few steps away to explain. "Nagi's trying to use his powers to block the water," he whispered softly. Looking closer, Youji could now see the strain around the telekinetic's wide blue eyes, and the sweat popping out on his skin. There was a tension in the air of the sort just before an electrical storm strikes. "How can he do that if he doesn't know where Omi IS?" Youji asked in disbelief. Aya shrugged. "He can't. But that's not stopping him from trying." Youji understood. All possible leads had been exhausted, and they were well on their way to working through the list of improbable ones. That left only the impossible for them to try - and try it they would, for Omi's sake. Finally Nagi slumped forward, nearly pitching face-first onto the floor. Ken caught him with a goalie's quick reflexes, supporting him as he struggled to stay upright. He looked frail and exhausted, and tears streaked his pale cheeks. "I can't," he cried despondently. "I can't find them, I don't know where it is. I can't stop it!" As if reacting to his words, a ringing alarm suddenly sounded, blaringly loud in the confines of the small room. They all jumped, then swung to stare at the window, where every monitor in the patient's room was flashing urgently. "No!" Nagi forced himself to his feet, staring through the glass. "Schuldich is still in his head! If he dies while they're still connected, he'll take Schu with him!" Youji wasn't entirely certain that would be such a bad thing, but they followed the boy into the other room anyway. Already the room was crowded with doctors and nurses, and one of them was moving to push Schuldich away from where he was slumped over the man's body. "No!" Nagi cried at her, then flung his hand out in her direction when she showed no signs of listening. She was thrown back away from the bed with a small cry, followed by all the other medical personnel in the room. They were pinned against the walls, helpless. "What is the meaning of this?" One of the doctors demanded angrily, struggling against his invisible bonds. "We must check the patient!" "You can't move him!" Nagi told them fiercely, not releasing them. He padded over to Schuldich, and rested his hand gently on the telepath's cheek. "Schuldich. Schuldich! Wake up, snap out of it! You can't follow him! Schu, come back!" He switched to English, then to what sounded like broken German, poking and prodding at the flame haired telepath frantically. Feeling a need to help, Youji reached out to touch the motionless man as well. Nagi glanced up with wide eyes, crying, "Don't! You're not shielded!" But it was too late. Youji was instantly lost in a swirling maelstrom of colours and sounds, scents and feelings. It was impossibly chaotic, but it was also fading, stilling, slowing down even as he watched it. He caught glimpses of the previous victims, as well as some of what Schuldich had told them of the man's past, and his mind instinctively shied away from the foul impressions that embraced those images like a lover's touch. Somewhere ahead of him, he became aware of a small spark of light, pulsing in time to the madness. Yet somehow, it didn't seem to belong, the pure whiteness of it looking out of place in the riot of colours. It was fading too; its light being drawn away into the dimming pool. He 'reached' for it, not really understanding what he was doing, just knowing that he had to do it. There was a jolt, then the 'spark' latched onto his 'hand' frantically, using him to pull itself out of the event horizon of the mental black hole. They clung together, and Youji became aware of Schuldich's presence beside him, full of fear and desperation. Then there was a sickening lurch, and Youji opened his eyes to find himself sprawled out on the floor, Schuldich lying half on him, clutching his physical hand in a death grip. The telepath opened his eyes, chilling emerald meeting verdant jade, and shoved himself away. "Idiot!" he exclaimed, his voice rough and more than a little shaky. His hand was trembling as he raised it to rake his hair away from his face. "You could have been killed!" "I was just doing what Nagi was doing," Youji protested feebly, trying to shove himself upright. Ken and Aya assisted him, lifting him up to the chair beside the one Schuldich had recently occupied. Schuldich rose as well, with minimal help from Nagi. "Nagi is shielded, you stupid altruistic bastard," Schuldich informed him with a snarl. "You could have been sucked in after me." "I wasn't," he pointed out, though the racing of his heart was emphatically telling him what a close call it had been. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I think I saved YOUR life." Nagi had released the doctors and nurses at this point, but most of them were still hovering out of the way of whatever strange things were going on by the bedside. They weren't really needed anyway - the heart rate monitor was flat-lining, and there was no brain activity registered. The Doll Killer was dead. "Don't expect me to feel like I owe you, Weiss," Schuldich returned curtly. "I got what you wanted. Just before he died, I finally dug out where he's been keeping the kids." "Where?!" Ken demanded, his eyes instinctively going to the mirror, though he knew he wouldn't be able to see the screen through the reflection. "It's an abandoned farmstead out west of Tokyo," the telepath informed them wearily. "The system is completely automated, so that he doesn't have to risk detection by going out there too often. That's why the water is still rising. It'll take about an hour to get there by car." "We don't have an hour," Nagi replied grimly. "The room will be filled in half an hour at most." "Then I suggest, Nagichen, that you learn how to fly." Schuldich gave him a shadow of his usual smirk. Aya was already at the door to the room. "I'll arrange for a helicopter with Manx," he snapped back over his shoulder. "Meet me on the roof, at the hospital landing pad." He vanished into the hallway, moving at a dead run.
Omi panted for what air was left in the increasingly tiny space between the water and the ceiling. He had his face pressed flat against the cold concrete of the ceiling, one arm hooked tightly around one of the pipes to keep him there. The nozzles were all underwater now, which meant that at least the spray of water into his face had stopped. He knew that what was left of his life could be measured in minutes, and he struggled against the sobs that threatened to choke him prematurely. He didn't know why he was still fighting so hard to hang onto the last sliver of life. The others weren't coming, that much was obvious. However much he had cried and shouted and prayed, they hadn't been able to hear him, and apparently Kami-sama wasn't listening either. A tiny part of him could appreciate the irony of a White Hunter being slain by the very beast he had hunted, but the rest of him was screaming silently in terror. He didn't want to die! He had so much left to live for. Even with everything that had happened to him in his short life, there were still so very many good things, things that he'd never appreciated properly while he had them. He thought of Ken, and the ex-soccer player's unstoppable enthusiasm for everything he did. That enthusiasm could have its dark side occasionally, getting him too wrapped up in the secret life he led as Siberian. But most of the time it was a shining, joyful thing, always ready with a kind word or helping hand to his kids or anyone else who asked. He thought of Aya, of the red head's unflappable coolness and the distance he kept between himself and his teammates. Omi thought he might have been beginning to bridge that distance, a little, and he hoped that the others would carry on where he'd left off. Aya was like an older brother to him, and he would do anything to see the solemn man be happy. He thought of Youji, the eternal playboy, and his constant teasing. Suddenly all the crude jokes and innuendo seemed much less annoying, and more a part of Youji's charm. His flippant manner hid a very sharp mind, and a very hurt soul, still grieving for the loss of a beloved partner whose death he blamed on himself. He too had been like a brother, taunting and teasing but always there when he really needed him. Most of all he thought of Nagi. There was still a part of him that couldn't believe he'd fallen in love with the reticent telekinetic. But his enemy/friend had been so hurt, so wounded, and Omi had known that he could make much of that pain disappear simply by caring about him. Nagi hadn't known much love in his short, turbulent life, and Omi had been determined to make up for that. The boy had responded like a flower opening to the sun, making his efforts more than worth it. Omi rather thought he hadn't been far from convincing his lover to leave Schwartz's dark influence, and he prayed that Nagi wouldn't slide back into hatred with his death. The last breath of air was vanishing now, and Omi drew in as deep a lungful as he could get. He let go of the pipe and floated free, both hands clamped over his mouth and nose in an attempt to beat off the reflex to breathe. It was a futile gesture, his lungs already burning from lack of oxygen and fighting to get him to draw in air, unwilling to listen to his brain telling them that there was nothing but water out there. It would buy him a few seconds at best - but every second was precious. As he waited for the inevitable moment when instinct would overcome him, he stared at the camera, silently willing them to catch the man responsible for his death before any more innocents could die.
They impressed their sense of urgency on the Kritiker helicopter pilot so effectively that he pushed the machine to its limits, the engine whining in protest. The cityscape flew by beneath them, gradually giving way to open land, then to fields. Schuldich, still recovering from his brush with death, was leaning over the side, belted firmly in place against the seat, giving directions based on landmarks only he could recognize. Finally, finally, they touched down outside an abandoned farmhouse. The building was two stories and still in fairly good shape, though the barn behind it was rotting and tumbling down. A tall corn silo still towered over the remains of the barn, graceful in its solitude. The pilot remained with the helicopter, ready to fly them back to the hospital the moment they found Omi. Even in the best of scenarios, the boy would be suffering exposure and shock, and possibly damage from lack of oxygen. No one allowed themselves to consider the possibility that they might already be too late. Schuldich was spent, unable to tell them anything more than that Omi was definitely on the property somewhere, and wasn't dead yet, though if the terror he felt was any indication, he would be soon. He stayed in the chopper with the pilot, too shaky to walk. He would only get in the way of the search. They split up, Nagi and Ken searching through the barn, while Youji and Aya raced through the house. Nagi used his powers indiscriminately, throwing aside debris in a frantic hunt for the hidden door that would take them to Omi's cell. There was nothing, in the barn or the house. They met in the back yard, all four wearing identical looks of frantic frustration. "Where IS it?" Ken demanded of the world at large, heart clenching in his chest at the knowledge that every second of delay could make the difference between Omi's life and death. Youji glared around the yard as if the bare earth would give him the clue he needed. Abruptly he straightened, eyes wide. "The silo!" he exclaimed. They all bolted for the tower. There was no door - Nagi blasted them one, tearing a huge chunk of aluminum siding away and tossing it aside. They found themselves looking into an echoingly empty space with a simple dirt floor. Youji slumped, defeated. "NO!" Nagi cried, snarling. With a gesture, the ground at their feet heaved upwards, dirt spraying everywhere as he tore the earth apart. When the choking dust cleared, they found themselves looking down into a dark room. There were stairs against one wall, apparently leading to a trap door concealed in the ground on the other side of the silo. Directly beneath them was a camera on a tripod, and across from it was a lighted cell with two clear walls, full of water. The top was covered in concrete, a hatch in the center sealed with several iron bars and various locks. "Omi!" Ken was the first one into the hole, taking the ten foot drop with ease, flexing his knees to take the impact and rolling. He came up to his feet just inches from the clear wall, and he pounded on it in frustration. He could see Omi within, floating in the center of the room near the top, both hands clamped over his mouth. At the vibrations his pounding made, the boy's eyes flew open, and Ken cheered inwardly as he realized his friend was still alive. The relief was short-lived - even as he watched, Omi lost the battle to hold his breath, a stream of bubbles rushing from him as his body forcefully expelled the last of his air. His lungs struggled to draw their next breath, pulling in only water. Omi gave a soundless cry and thrashed once before stilling, his eyes sliding closed as he drifted limply in the water. "OMI!" He pounded on the wall again, ignoring the insistent tugging on his shoulder. "Ken!" Nagi's piercing voice finally broke through his helpless rage. "Get away from the wall, dammit!" He let Aya and Youji pull him away, eyes wide, as Nagi took a deep breath and focused on the thick plastic. The telekinetic was almost out of energy, which was why he hadn't simply knocked Ken away from the wall with his powers. As it was, he might not have enough power left to smash through the heavy wall. The three Weiss members watched in sick fascination as the wall bulged first inward, then outward, as Nagi fought to crack it. For a long moment, it didn't look like he was going to be able to break through, and Ken dropped to his knees in despair, eyes locked on Omi's motionless figure. Then with a deafening 'crack', the wall split, shattering into a thousand tiny shards of plastic. The water rushed out in a wave, pouring from the cell to flood the rest of the room, leaving them all waist deep in water. Nagi gave a little sigh and pitched forward, stopped from sliding under the water by Youji. Ken and Aya sloshed forward, hurrying to where Omi still lay in the water of the cell. The hauled him over onto his back, and got him propped up against Ken, sitting on the bench, so that his head and shoulders were out of the water. He was limp against them, not making any effort to breathe, but Ken wasn't ready to give up yet. "Tilt him on his side," he directed Aya, frantically searching his mind for the small bit of first aid he knew. "We need to make the water drain from his lungs!" "Here," Nagi said hoarsely, splashing up to them, half-leaning on Youji. "Let me." He hovered his hands over his lover's chest, and concentrated. A rush of water suddenly poured out of Omi's nose and open mouth, his chest visibly sinking as his lungs emptied. When the water had slowed to an almost imperceptible trickle, Nagi took his hands away. Still Omi made no move to breathe on his own. Ken was terrified that they might have been just an instant too late. He knew that none of them would ever forgive themselves if they'd failed to save the boy by less than a minute. He propped Omi up against his arm, using his free hand to pinch the boy's nose shut. He leaned over and locked lips with him, forcing air into his lungs. Raising his head to gasp for breath, he saw Nagi replace his hands on Omi's chest as he bent over again. He couldn't feel Nagi's hands moving, and yet he was dimly aware of the slow beat of Omi's heart. Rather than using the crude CPR method of pumping Omi's heart by pushing hard on his chest, Nagi was forcing the organ to beat by wrapping his powers around it and squeezing rhythmically. It seemed they worked together like that for an eternity, Aya and Youji holding Omi steady while the two younger boys frantically struggled to save their friend's life. At last, just as Ken was despairing and ready to give up, Omi drew breath of his own volition. He choked and coughed, the last dribbles of water coming up as he struggled for air. Ken tilted him on his side again, and the boy clutched at his legs, breathing in great ragged gulps of life-giving air. "K-ken?" he croaked, eyes slitting open in confusion. "You... you came..." "Baka!" Ken exclaimed, unable to say more around the tears clogging his throat. "Of course we came, bishounen," Youji drawled, more than a hint of huskiness in his own voice. "Nagi here's not a bad substitute for you on a mission, but he doesn't have any of your sparkling personality to recommend him." Omi blinked at him, confused, then swung his bleary gaze to where Nagi was slumped against Aya, the taller boy being the only thing holding the exhausted telekinetic upright. "Nagi! What... how..." He coughed again, and shivered violently in Ken's arms. Nagi placed gentle fingers on his lover's lips. "Don't try to talk, itoushi," He murmured softly. "It's a long story, and I'll tell you later. We need to get you back to the hospital." But Omi wasn't satisfied with promises of later details. "Did you... ugh... did you get him?" "He's dead," Aya told him, and Omi relaxed at last. "Yokatta," he whispered, and let Ken lift him into his arms to carry him out of the room. They made their way back to the helicopter, and by the time they reached it, Omi was fast asleep, feeling sheltered and safe for the first time in four days. The trip back to the hospital was uneventful, Schuldich and Nagi being far too tired to snipe at each other in their usual fashion. They waited long enough to see Omi safely ensconced in a hospital room of his own, and to hear the doctors declare that he would be just fine with a little rest. Then Nagi sighed, his shoulders slumping, and he jerked his head at the door, indicating that Schuldich should precede him. "Let's go," he said tiredly. "Might as well face the music." Schuldich didn't budge from where he was leaning against the wall, watching his teammate with unusually warm green eyes. "You know," he replied casually, affecting a bored look as he examined his fingernails. "It's a damn good thing you're not going to try to get away from me on the way back. Because, I'm damned if I'd be able to do anything to stop you. I doubt I've got enough strength to influence a cat, the way I feel right now." He glanced up through his lashes to see if Nagi had understood him. The telekinetic was gaping at him, floored. "Schu... he'll kill you." The German shrugged away from the wall, and moved stiffly towards the door. "Nah. He'll just be pissed off, which is entertaining in and of itself. You know how I love getting him riled. Just make sure you're back by tomorrow, because I'll be recovered by then and I WILL come hunting for you to drag your sorry ass back." He paused at the door, winking back over his shoulder at his stunned teammate. "And don't say I never did anything for you, kid." With that he was gone, leaving only the impression of his smirk hanging in the air like the Cheshire cat. Nagi just shook his head, and collapsed back down into his chair at Omi's head. "What do you know," he muttered under his breath, not so softly that Ken couldn't hear him. "The bastard has a heart after all." "Or maybe he's just saving up to blackmail you later?" Omi suggested in a rusty voice, opening his eyes and smiling softly at the boy beside him. Nagi took his hand gently, laughing. "Probably. That would certainly be more in character for him," he agreed. Ken had to admit that when Nagi laughed like that, expression open and eyes smiling, he looked like any normal teenager, not dangerous at all. Omi glanced up at his teammates, blushing slightly. "You guys... are okay with this?" He asked shyly, nodding at their joined hands. Youji snorted. "Put it this way, kiddo. If we'd found out any other way - there'd probably have been a hell of a lot of fights and arguments." "But the fact is, we'd never have found you without his help," Aya added, his usual coldness softened considerably as he looked at the two boys. "And God knows he sure seems to care about you," Ken put in his two cents, raising one hand to scratch at the back of his head in embarrassment. "Besides... you two are kinda cute together." Omi's sunny smile was all the thanks they needed, telling them without words just how much he wanted and needed their love and support. But the icing on the cake was Nagi's own hesitant smile, the first real indication for the end of hatred and loneliness in a heart that had never known caring, until a certain blue-eyed Hunter had charged into his life. It just might, Ken thought softly to himself, be something of a new start for all of them. And if it had taken a serial killer and the near-death of their most beloved teammate to bring them to this point - well, they would just appreciate it all the more for its preciousness. | |
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