What to do with you

Okay, long story short, I'm moving. So, I'm posting this chapter, a really big one that's a bit busy, and the last one tomorrow. I hope it isn't too busy and doesn't feel too rushed, I had to push a bit to get it done. But, that's ok. Thanks to raya and Pat, I didn't get to say so last time. Enjoy and let me know what you think!


Chapter 5


Schuldig woke to warm hands and a hot cock sliding into him, a soft mouth nipping at his collar. “Mmm, hey. You're up early this morning.” A swift glance at the clock before another thrust bowed his back; it was just past four a.m. A low grunt in his ear and he surrendered, not truly wanting to argue over it. Callused hands were fondling him, stroking slowly over the hard flesh as trim hips moved against his ass, pushing that thick length into him steadily.

Thrusts sped up, harder as his lover approached orgasm and the brunet cried out when he felt the pulsing, steady against his prostate. A few strokes of his cock and he followed, soft noises muffled under the hard mouth that claimed his.

Annoyed silence from behind him and he rolled over to watch Farfarello pull away and grab a towel, wiping himself efficiently before stalking to the door. “Hey, Far! What's wrong?” The door shut loudly and the telepath was left alone, confused by his partner's moodiness; he lay on his back, thick seed trailing his thighs as he puzzled over the blond's bad mood.

The little girl was up and roaming the apartment when he dragged himself out of bed and wandered into the kitchen for coffee. He'd actually forgotten that kids needed to eat regularly and struggled with a simple breakfast, informing her that she could eat it or go hungry when she complained. Dishes were done, another little chore he was still unused to but managed. Cassandra was amused with a set of cards while he roamed her mind, erasing delicately and shuffling memories around.

Her talent was still in the fledgling stages and would take some effort to push into maturity ahead of its natural growth. No choice, she wouldn't survive more than a year, even with the best care. Gentle touches edged the baby talent a bit forward and he tried to kick the hormones that usually started at puberty into gear with limited success Well, enough for today. Let her adjust to what he had done then push forward again.

Farfarello was back by noon, blood under his nails and whiskey on his breath as he lifted the telepath from his seat on the floor and hauled him to the bedroom, slamming the door behind them. The blond's mind was blank, shields locked in place as he ravaged the slender body under him, vicious teeth nipping still bruised lips; Schuldig struggled a bit, pushing away as he was forced backwards, his partner's heavier weight pinning him to the bed as hard hands yanked his pants down.

They tangled at his knees, unable to move further around his kicking and a calloused hand gripped him between his thighs, freezing the telepath in place, tender skin too delicate to risk. The grip loosened when he stopped fighting and changed to an easy stroking while the other hand trailed up under his shirt to pluck at pink skin. A low moan fluttered gold eyes closed, the sharp nose pressing against the older man's neck. “Schu.”

“What's wrong?” Slim hands moved from pushing to tugging gently at the dark shirt, easing it over the blond head. Long white hair rubbed under his chin, needy sounds muffled against the pearly skin. Firm lips pressed to pale skin and the brunet kissed his lover on the forehead, giving in; explanations could come later.

The surrender broke the quiet spell around the talentless man, eyes glowing as he attacked, strong fingers wrapped around the swelling cock, squeezing firmly, small wounds opening down the slender chest as he trailed to the bright curls. Schuldig arched and writhed, soft cries muffled against an arm, other hand tangled in the long hair. Only the soft tongue touched him at first, lapping at the dusky tip of his erection, followed by chapped lips that swallowed the length effortlessly while he sobbed his need.

Abruptly, the wet heat was pulled away and the brunet was flipped to his stomach, hips lifted. The slap took him by surprise and he cried out, low whines as more fell, open palm falling on his upturned ass; vulnerability, the feeling of no choice pushed him higher, rocking his hips urgently. Cool liquid was poured in the middle of his back, running up to flow over his shoulders and down his chest, some trailing down to his ass. Against the heat of red flesh, the cold burned, causing the slender body to jerk and whimper; two fingers slipped inside, stretching harshly as the other hand held him firmly, stroking with just the right pressure to keep him hard and ready but not enough to come.

Whimpered begging earned a kiss to the middle of his back and the head of the blond's erection pushed in beside the fingers; Schuldig felt the blood rush from his face and started to struggle. “No, Farfarello, stop!” A low growl and the blond pushed further in, stretching his lover painfully as he fought, helpless under the heavy body. A bolt of energy was useless, no target available to hit, and the brunet clawed at the sheets, tears sliding down his cheeks. He'd never been hurt like this, he felt like he would rip any second.

Soft murmuring from the man above him and light kisses pressed to his neck as the fingers were pulled back, and Schuldig lay panting, pain shivering down his back and radiating from where they were joined. “You bastard. Fuck you, get off.”

“Schu, I can't” Long hair nestled in the curve of the telepath's neck and a short thrust nudged the blond deeper, drawing a wince. “I can't.” A shift of angle pressed the sweet spot, helping make it bearable and a pale hand slid around to rub pink nipples gently before trailing down to cradle the flagging erection. Light strokes brought it back to full hardness as heavy thrusts hurtled the blond toward completion; he came with a low groan, fingers squeezing the trim hip under his hand hard enough to bruise, and nuzzled his head against the brunet's back, kissing the back of his neck.

The telepath wriggled under the heavy weight and tried to ease out from under his partner, ignoring the almost painful erection in favor of escaping; he hurt and just wanted to retreat to lick his wounds quietly. 'How did I get this weak?' He couldn't even move, a tingle of fear and panic tracing designs on his skin while he struggled, holding back tears of frustration. Farfarello had a firm grip on him and kept him pinned as he stroked gently, placing little nibbly kisses along his shoulders as the soft thickness inside the brunet hardened again. Slow, easy pushes started, semen and lube easing the way even as they made stretched skin sting.

They shifted into the best angle to hit the little bundle of nerves, the blond shoving his hips to the taut ass quickly. Schuldig's orgasm began to slide along his spine, tremors spreading from his groin up to his brain where pleasure burst over him in a rush, white covering the pale hand that cupped him. His blond partner followed, pulsing deeply again, another low moan whispering across the sweaty skin of his back, strong hips grinding his into the bed.

Harsh breathing was the only sound for long minutes until the blond rolled away to get a damp towel. Only a soft moan from his abused partner before the brunet lay still again, flat on his stomach, covered in lube and semen with a few spots of blood mixed in. Regret for the damage made Farfarello's hands extra gentle and careful as he wiped the mess away, rolling the limp body over to wipe its stomach and chest as well. The brunet still hadn't spoken, just lay with his eyes closed, and he tapped him on the nose. “Schu?”

“Hmm. What do you want now?” Tired pain lacing the hard words made them all the more vicious. “Are you finished?”

Even though he deserved them, the blond felt rage flare and threw the towel down. “For the moment. Maybe I'll feel like it later.” He stomped to the door and slammed it behind him, ignoring the sputter behind him. His shoulders itched, energy bubbled when he should have been exhausted, his senses were on alert and he couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong; even the hours he'd spent away hadn't calmed him at all.

The urge to leave was strong but stronger yet was the need to stay close by, to touch his telepath, though he wasn't welcome. His mind throbbed at the thought and the reason; horror that he'd injured his precious partner made his cringe while pride that he'd marked his territory, bruises and bite marks forming along the pale collar even before he left the room drew his shoulders back. Faint shuffling from the bedroom and he knew the brunet was cleaning up and retreated to the kitchen to make a light lunch and watch the door.

All afternoon, the former redhead felt predatory eyes on him, cataloging and memorizing his every move. Even as he lay on the couch reading quietly, Cassandra curled at his feet napping, the honey colored gaze stared, making him feel like something small and helpless, just waiting for the attack. But, he wasn't approached, and was honestly glad; everything hurt and he still had no idea what had happened earlier, either time.

More importantly, why did it happen? They'd had much rougher sessions but never that cold, objections never brushed aside the way they had been. A sideways glance showed the blond to be still watching while he sat cross-legged on the floor cleaning a knife; the brunet snorted softly and looked away, determined to ignore his partner. 'Fuck him. If he wants to act like an asshole, let him.'

Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and stomped to the kitchen, knowing Farfarello would follow; not wincing or limping was a point of pride. *What the hell is your problem? You've been a prick all day, not to mention this afternoon.* Slender hips cocked, delicate hands settling on them in annoyance. He couldn't read anything as the blond had shut him out sometime during the night and that just pissed him off more; he wasn't even sure his thought would get through.

Muscle flexed as the younger man stared back, arms crossed. “Nothing.”

“Well it's something!” Schuldig slipped into verbal speech, a hand slashing through the air. “This is bullshit, if you have a problem, say so. This stalking thing is getting old.”

Farfarello just continued staring, fingers trailing to his hip where a blade was strapped; he played with it while Schuldig's rage grew. Finally, the older man threw his hand up and started to turn away. “Fine. For god's sake, why can't you”

*Crack.*

The sharp sound echoed in the kitchen, the dark head whipping around under the force, slender body following as he stumbled to lean against the counter. The telepath stared blankly at his partner, hand at his cheek, shock setting in and dulling the pulsing from the point of contact; Farfarello was staring at his hand as if he'd never seen it before. An ironclad rule, one of the only ones they had between them, was that any physical fights were started by Schuldig. The blond had never, ever hit first, no matter how upset he was, no matter what the redhead had done to him.

Gold moved up to look at the silent brunet and widened at the red mark on his cheek. 'How could I do that?' He had thought he was in control, that he could contain his rage and not hurt his precious telepath any more. His feet turned and the door slammed open as if it had a will of its own, steps heavy and fast as the younger man bolted down the hall and skidded down the stairs, Schuldig on his heels.

“No, Far! Wait!” Too late, the white hair vanished three stories down and the brunet was left panting over a railing, peering down, hoping for another glance; nothing, it was as if his partner had faded into thin air. “Wait, please, wait.” His voice was soft, nearly inaudible even to himself, the crack of tears picking up on the last word. “Please.”

********************

Cassandra stood behind him, clutching the corner of a pillow, tears in her eyes. “Brian? Where is Lucas going?”

*Nowhere. He'll be back later. Go back to sleep.* At least his mental voice wouldn't show that he was crying.

“But...”

*Cassandra, be a good girl and go back. I'll come read to you in a minute.* He tried to stay gentle, not force her. Worry and fear pressed at him, not only his, but the girl's; a memory nudged him and he opened it as she retreated to the couch, closing the door behind her.

The rage her mother had felt, the way seemingly gentle people had turned to violence after a night near her, the way everyone around her struck out, complaining of feeling unsettled. Schuldig swore silently and pushed further, easing through the painful thoughts. The girl had been abandoned as a curse, seen as unlucky when anyone who was in contact for more than a few hours became restless and edgy, dangerous. She'd been locked in the wall to die and he suddenly realized why amplifiers didn't make it to adulthood.

Low laughter started as chuckles and grew to full throated yells as the irony caught up. They affected the talentless, frightened them without ever knowing what they could be or that they were the cause of the danger to themselves. Their gift was of the sort to help others but not themselves and if not saved, the ignorant simply destroyed them.

Once he calmed, tears running down his face, the dark head leaned back against the wall as its owner started weaving the necessary shields to place around the young mind. By the time he returned to their apartment, the girl was sleeping again, curled at the base of the couch; shields slid into place, anchored to her memories and powered by their creator. It was exhausting, to hold extra shields on top of his and he lay down on the carpet to rest.

When pale eyes opened again, it was nearly dark, long shadows playing over him and the soft clink in the kitchen drawing him in. 'Maybe Far came home.' Disappointment flashed across his face when he saw the little blonde on tiptoe stirring a small pot at the stove. “What are you doing?”

She squeaked and whirled, hot water spraying from the spoon in her hand; a choked gasp and she dropped the spoon to whimper and clutch at her arm. Soft cries and slow tears slid down her face as she tried to stifle the sounds. Schuldig sighed and crossed the floor to dab a dish cloth in cool water and press it to the tiny wounds, gently soothing and calming.

It felt strange to do so but he was still a bit raw from arguing with Farfarello and she was so small and trusting in his arms, he hugged her close, sitting on the cool tile. The shields were still in place and he eased inside while he patted her head and whispered nonsense. She had been making something for him to eat and he thanked her for it, kissing her on the head.

“Come, I'll make supper.” The small body was warm and he sat her on a chair while he wandered, mixing whatever came to hand in a big pot. It would be fine. Probably. They managed to choke it down without too much effort and he sent the little blonde for a bath while he cleaned up; he didn't save the leftovers for his absent partner since he wouldn't like them anyway.

“Brian?” A shirt he'd decided he no longer liked and an old pair of Farfarello's shorts hung on the thin frame as Cassandra stood in the door to the room he shared with Farfarello, her favorite pillow dangling from her hand.

“Yes?” The window wasn't that interesting anyways, the city alight in the dark but no sign of his blond. “What's wrong?”

She fidgeted, shuffling in the thick carpet. “Is Lucas coming back?”

Well, that was the question, wasn't it? He lied easily, walking over to ruffle the still damp hair. “Of course. Sit down, I'll do your hair.” He managed to untangle the thin mess and braided it passably. “There you go. Time for bed.”

“Can I, I stay with you?” He almost said no, not used to sharing with anyone other than his chosen partner but the bed looked too big, cold even with the piles of blankets.

Full lips tipped just a bit at the thought; when did he become so dependent? “Alright. Go get your book while I change and I'll read a bit.” The brilliant grin set him back a bit and he nearly stepped away but she giggled and darted off, colorful fringe trailing behind her. “And leave that pillow in the living room where it belongs.” A smile tugged at his lips and he was shocked to find he didn't mind the role he'd moved into, very similar to how he'd felt about Nagi when he was younger and new to the team; the girl was more dependent on him, needed more, but he didn't mind giving it.

How strange. A quick change into sleeping pants and a loose shirt that still smelled like his missing blond before he lifted the small body up beside him. She was asleep in minutes, curled at his side; hours passed slowly while he stared at the flickering lights through the window, heat seeping into his soul from the tiny girl. A bit of time passed while he nudged and prodded her talent but the limit was reached quickly and he was left alone in the dim light, waiting silently

Soft coughing woke him on the fourth day and he rolled to find Cassandra sitting up, hands over her mouth as she gasped for air. Slow sips of water helped a bit but she lay back down and sobbed even after it was over; the brunet could only pet her hair and whisper softly that it was alright. A brief probe showed no other symptoms of infection or illness but he couldn't take the risk. When she was asleep again, he got up and called a doctor they had used before, discrete for the right amount of money and a bit more bought his loyalty.

The knock was soft and light when the skinny man arrived, white bag in hand. “Come in.” The door opened and he stepped in to stare at Schuldig, the barest flick of recognition flaring in his eyes.

“Where is she?” Dark hair tilted to the bedroom and he held the door open so he could follow the aged man in; light mental brushing pushed Cassandra into a deeper sleep.

Needles and gloves were pulled from the bag and a set of blood samples taken. “What's the matter with her?”

“She was coughing this morning. She has AIDS, advanced.” He stared into the distance for a second. “I figured under a year left at this stage.”

“She's young for that. Even infected, it takes time to manifest. Are you sure?” Slender shoulders rolled at the doctor and the dark head nodded; a clear memory of her illness being discussed as an inconvenience was pretty convincing. Small vials of blood were carefully set in a padded case and clicked into the medical bag. “Then why are you calling me? There's nothing you can do.”

A slow grin and the telepath leaned on the door frame. “I want her to survive as long as possible. I have a use for her.”

Dark eyes looked him over, considering. “And you? Do you need tests done as well?” A polite enough tone, but there was disgust embroidering the edges. Brown eyes rolled; you'd think this old guy had seen it all by now anyways.

“I think I can refrain from that.” Pale eyes glared as the brunet pushed himself away from the wall. “Can you keep her alive?”

“Maybe, maybe. I'll see what I can do. There are a few things that might help. Keep her away from sources of infection, make sure things are kept clean.” His gaze turned back to the sleeping girl. “She's pale, underweight. Get her to eat more, keep it as healthy as possible, nothing overly processed. See if her stomach can still handle meat and if it can't, use nuts, cheese, or tofu instead.” The frail body shivered once and the blanket was tugged up. “Has she complained of headaches, pain?”

“Not really. There's a steady headache, but it's minor. Tylenol seems to do the trick.” The telepath didn't mention he'd been tempering the pain while he worked on her talent. His hand trailed over the small pale face, one finger pausing at the tip of her nose. “How long?”

“If you're right, six months, with the right treatment. She looks weak.” The doctor packed his bag and picked up his coat, draping it over his arm; he paused at the door, a question on his tongue. After a moment of hesitation, he asked. “What are you doing back here?”

Schuldig looked over his shoulder, faint, sad smile on his lips. “Where else should I go?” His face cleared in a second, a familiar smirk replacing the tiny smile. “I belong here, with the rest of the trash.
Your money in on the table. You'll find enough to make it worth your while to keep my presence quiet.” Unspoken was that he would hunt him down if he betrayed him. “How long will the tests take?”

“A few days. I'll bring treatment around then.” A final incline of the head and the older man slipped out, closing the door silently behind him. Schuldig heard his steps cross the floor, pause in the kitchen, then the outside door opened and closed.

He sat on the bed and fiddled with wispy bangs, watching the thin chest rise and fall steadily. 'Why am I getting so attached to these damn kids?' Alfred's face wavered in his mind beside Cassandra's and he felt his chest clench a bit. 'I don't love them, they're inconvenient, dependent, weak, they slow us down, they'

Suddenly, he realized there was no 'us', there was only him. Farfarello was gone, who knew where, and may or may not come back. The strain of running two sets of shields was beginning to wear on him and he recognized the thoughts of others in his mind, unavoidable and uncontrollable. 'How long can I do this?' A soft whine from his side and the small blonde curled into his warmth. His jaw set and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. 'As long as I have to.'

*********************

A week and the male blond wasn't back yet, not even a faint sign of him. When Schuldig checked the account to see if he could track him that way, he was informed that there had been a half dozen deposits but no withdrawals. Cassandra clung to his side, fingers tangled in his as he leaned against the wall and tried not to laugh. Or cry, he didn't know which.

The strain of holding two sets of shields left him nearly incapable of using his talent and he only gleamed that Candy came in at random times and had no set schedule. It would be impossible to wait for her, and Farfarello would sense him anyways and leave. The only thing to do was wait it out and look after Cassandra.

At least the coughing had stopped and she had more energy with the pills they'd gotten; the doctor's memory of serving them had been erased, leaving Schuldig curled in bed for nearly a day. The brunet had gotten a simple cookbook and was managing more edible meals now, if plain. His cooking skills weren't anything special but Farfarello had never been that picky and would eat whatever was produced with minimum fuss; he'd also been more preoccupied with high calorie meals for his blond, rather than necessarily healthy ones. Cassandra was too conditioned not to whine and ate almost anything as well but he wanted to have something passably healthy.

The baby talent was growing, nurtured and fed by Schuldig's talent and energy, often leaving them both unconscious Cassandra never complained, spending her days playing with cards or learning to read, settled in the telepath's lap, pillow at hand. Time passed slowly, days dragging together, Schuldig's energy levels dropping steadily, his personal shields failing more and more frequently.

'Almost.' The tiny talent was on the verge of maturing, as much as possible in the weak body. Schuldig ran his fingers through the soft hair and stared out the living room window, watching the city lights blink on and off. 'Ah, Far, where the hell did you go?' He hadn't left the city but he hadn't been back either, not even to check on them.

Periodic checks, scans as far as his talent would take him, showed his blond was nowhere in the area; at least not detectable. It was so lonely, inside his own head, shields hard against intrusions. He was starting to drowse off, eyes sliding shut when a familiar voice jerked him awake. *Schuldig!* Panic echoed in the wide call, focused in his general direction.

Jei. He'd been in to see the tiny church a few times over the years, chatting quietly until Farfarello appeared at the edge of the path. *Jei?* What could be wrong enough for Jei to be the front personality? They weren't far away, the next building over, and Schuldig slid into the whirling mind, blank landscape there to greet him as he pushed through to the church.

Jei stood on the edge of his territory, robes slightly mussed and fear in his eyes. *Help us, please, he's going to* The words cut off abruptly and Schuldig whipped around to see his blond watching them. The dark-haired priest shook and stared wide eyed.

*Farfarello. What are you doing?* Bright amber glowed as the blond stalked forward; the redhead backed away until his ass rested against the small fence.

A vicious grin and the brilliant eyes moved to the priest. *Cleaning.* Knives flicked between his fingers, brushing the redhead's clothes as the blond nuzzled his neck. *Did he go crying to you?*

The answer was fairly obvious and Schuldig didn't bother vocalizing it. *Farfarello, you have to calm down.* A careful step to the side was allowed, followed by another. He worked his way along the fence, his partner trailing him as he felt the way to the gate and stepped through.

Pale eyes watched from the edge of the path while Jei bustled over to check his rescuer for injuries. Long white hair tilted over a slender shoulder, considering. *Why? It needs to die if I'm to be whole.*

'Oh shit.' Very bad thing, if he's already moved Jei into the 'it' category. *I need him, Farfarello. Don't I matter?* White hair tilted the other way.

*You like him better than me.* Another knife flashed, joining the other two in a dancing circle over deft fingers. *If he's gone, you'll need me again.* Pink flicked over pale lips and the blond edged forward, toeing the line of the church property; his free hand reached up and ran over an invisible wall as if testing its strength.

Schuldig took a step forward and lifted his hand to mirror his younger partner, leaving millimeters between their skin. *No, Far, I always need you. I need you now, to calm down and leave Jei be.* Yellow eyes widened further and the blond moved his face closer, the redhead imitating him until they shared the same breath. *There is no one I love more than you.*

They stared at each other, breathing slowly, still not touching. Jei's voice startled Schuldig into jumping backwards as Farfarello's hand shot forward to wrap around his throat. *No!* The brunet priest leapt forward and grabbed the redhead's arm; Schuldig started to scream at the contact.

Both personalities shrieked and convulsed, the world shaking around them. The telepath fell silent, mouth open as he stared up, choking on two minds invading his completely. Two sets of thoughts, two sets of feelings, the same life seen from two separate survivors shoved at his personality and he clung, struggling to keep himself separate. The last thing he saw before passing out was the church crumbling silently, carefully tended gardens shattering.

“Brian, Brian!” Tears were hot on his face as his eyes blinked open slowly, head pounding. “Brian!” Cassandra was sprawled across his chest, shaking his shoulders frantically.

*Yeah.* Oh fuck that hurt. “Stop.” She went quiet, still sitting on his stomach as he pushed up a bit, hand on his head.

Small arms wrapped around his neck and soft hair rubbed his shoulder. “Brian?” Her voice was a whisper now, scared. “I thought maybe you died. I was scared.”

“I know. I'm fine. Just talking to Lucas.” Mumbling from his neck and she hugged closer. “What are you doing out of bed anyways? I thought you were having a nap.”

A bright smile beamed at him as she leaned back, hair fluttering around her ears. “I did, for two hours.” A firm nod. “But you were sleeping when I came to have a snack, so I had a snack all by myself and read a book and tried to wake you up for supper but you wouldn't!” Tears were welling up again and he hushed her quickly.

“That was good. I'm glad you had a snack. Should I make supper?” Happy nodding and he brushed her bangs back to press a kiss to her forehead. She really was adorable, sweet, almost never complained, did as she was told; the perfect pet.

Supper was simple, the redhead too preoccupied with what had happened earlier to make anything complicated. Cassandra snuggled in his lap on the couch while a cartoon movie played and he stared at the ceiling, scanning the area for any sign of Farfarello or Jei. No luck, not even a flicker on his radar.

His eyes shifted down to watch the blond hair as the child laughed at the movie. Maybe it was time. “Cassandra, look at me.” Big blue eyes turned up, meeting his darker ones. “Close your eyes. Do you feel anything?”

Her eyes slid closed immediately and scrunched as she felt around, trying to find something to show him. “Maybe?”

“What?” He wanted her to do it herself, without his interference. It would be easier if she could boost him on her own; less chance of fucking it up. “What do you feel?”

Her lids twitched, flickering with her eye movements. “Something, heavy. It's in my head, pushing me out. Brian!”

“Relax, it's fine. Push back, push it at me. I'll take it away for you.” Both sets of shields eased open enough for him to brush at the power she shifted his way. Oh fuck. His eyes rolled back, he could feel it, the sudden burst of strength pulsing on his tongue, pounding against his shields, forcing them open as they expanded. Oh yes.

A low groan at the exquisite sensation, of silence brought about by his own mind, the complete absence of intruders. It stopped abruptly, Cassandra panting against his chest and blue eyes shifted open, pupils huge in the afterglow. “Good girl.”

Amazing. The extra power was leaking away but some remained, he could feel it, tucked away in the corner of his talent. A test of range took him nearly half an extra block in every direction. Yes, this was the key, the way to revenge and freedom.

****************

A soft swish of the door against the carpet drew the brunet to his feet and he grabbed one of the spare weapons he left around the apartment, just in case Esset tracked him down again. Silent steps pressed his back to the wall beside the door and he strained to hear the intruder's heartbeat; there was no mental signature, nothing to show that anyone was there at all and he tensed further, counting seconds. There was a brush of hair against a collar and he attacked, whirling from his position to slice his blade across where the average man's throat would be.

Metal screeched on metal and he came face to face with dark gold eyes over a set of braced knives. Shock sent him backing away, stumbling over his own feet to fall hard. “Far!” He'd thought he might be dead, the clash too much for him. He stared up, tears gathering in his eyes and he reached up, hand shaking as he dropped his weapon.

Light hair shook slowly and the blond stepped backwards, avoiding the outstretched hand. “I've come for my things. I'll take them and go. The apartment is yours and the account. You'll be fine.” A wide path was taken around the fallen brunet, slender back tight.

“No!” Awkward scrambling sent the telepath crawling after his partner. “Far, no, you can't! You can't just leave us, you can't leave me! You said!” The blond stopped, fists taut at his sides and Schuldig latched onto his leg, tangling his fingers in the belt loops on black pants. “You promised you wouldn't leave.”

Tension echoed in the low voice and Farfarello didn't look down, just stared straight ahead. “Schuldig, I can't stay. I might hurt you.” A fisted hand lifted to open and close in front of his face, calluses thick around the small series of cuts.

“You won't.” Schuldig hauled himself up, climbing to wrap slender arms around the thin waist, burying his nose against the soft fabric of the blond's shirt. “You won't, I'm not made of glass, I'm not delicate. I won't break.”

“That doesn't matter. I won't let myself hit you, I won't, hurt you the way I did again.” Long white hair turned to look down, amber meeting bright blue. “I can't do that. Now let go.” That didn't sound like Farfarello, not entirely; it sounded like gentle Jei.

“Then don't. Promise me you won't and I'll believe you. I'm not letting go. You'll have to break my fingers to make me.” Steady eyes, stubborn and dry, watched, waiting while the blond struggled with himself. “Swear you won't hurt me, ever. On my life, on yours. No. On Jei's. Swear on Jei's life you'll never hit me again.” Each mention of his former name made the blond's shoulders jerk and he glared down, angry at being ordered and having his past thrown at him.

Bright blue, darkened by strain and desperation glared back and Farfarello watched his hand reach out and run through soft dark hair, watching the old blood color shift through his fingers. Could he keep a promise like that? He'd stayed away because he was uncertain, doubt keeping him from touching or even being near his lover.

An odd feeling, to doubt. He had never doubted before, either himself or his beliefs, never feared before but now he was afraid Afraid of destroying his only steady influence, the calming partner he'd found after searching for so long, the lover who accepted him easily and whose moods were an fluid as his own. And afraid of what he felt, the obsession, need, love for this young man, unstable and fragile no matter what he said.

But he was hurting him now, stressing his talent, pushing his redhead's mental boundaries. The younger man's shields dropped slightly and he was bombarded with fluttering thoughts, overflow from the darker haired man, the ones he couldn't keep out any longer. The blond's shields dropped completely and he pulled his partner in, unable to abandon him. *It's alright. Everything is alright.* His mental form cradled the smaller body as it curled into him, gratefully dropping kisses along his neck; shields fell away in shards, fragile and brilliant as crystal.

He mirrored the cradling with his physical body, lifting the limp form and carrying it to the bed where he lay down and petted thick hair. “Schuldig.” Reluctant clinging and the brunet moved back to himself enough to open his eyes. “There is no Jei, there's nothing left. Just me.”

Schuldig eased through the plain, exploring, searching for the little church; nothing. Not even ruins. *Far? Where is he?*

A lean form stepped beside him, pale hand turning slowly, offering it to him. *He vanished. But I hear him, inside me.” The redhead moved to take the hand by habit and paused before stepping back in shock. The usual blond was gone, dark hair streaked with gold replacing it, the narrow face filled in more, slightly rounder cheeks, the scars gone from his hands and chest. *I can't get rid of him.*

The telepath stepped forward and enfolded the younger man in his arms. *It's ok, you're still you, just him too. I promise.* It must be. What else could account for him still being even semi sane? *It's alright. I love you as you are.* The touch of lips was soft and faint, a brush of skin on skin as he switched to verbal speech, pulling away mentally. “Love you, missed you, need you.”

Cool eyes assessed him, watching as the blond hugged him back then pressed his forehead to Schuldig's. “I swear, on Jei Roche's soul, my soul, I will never, ever hit you again, nor will I leave you.”

“Thank you.” A pale hand curled in the dark shirt, pulling the talentless man closer, dark head laying against the thin chest. “Got skinny again.” A careless shrug. “Doesn't matter.” Pale eyes closed softly and the telepath slipped into sleep, relaxed and protected.

Hours later, Farfarello snuck away to greet Cassandra, playing a quiet card game and reading from a book open on the arm of the couch. He didn't go far, staying within range to block out any sneaky voices that might try to slink past his telepath's barriers. The tension didn't come as it had before, his nerves remained fairly calm, and the small body that crawled on him was a welcome distraction from the edges that did press at his temper.

“Far?” Schuldig leaned in the door to the bedroom, eyes darting around the living room. They settled on the blond man and he ran forward to drop into his partner's lap, pushing Cassandra out. *You're here!*

*Of course.* Light kisses pressed to the high forehead, smoothing wild hair into a semblance of order.

The little girl stared for a second before crawling away to pull herself up with the couch. Schuldig turned to face her and picked up her thoughts. 'Disappear, I should disappear.'

“Cassandra, come.” Two pale hands reached out, both men offering her a space with them, curled in the brunet's lap, arms around the blond's shoulders Her shields were tightened, extra energy available when Schuldig didn't have to shield for himself. Happiness flooded both men, the feeling of a home strange on their tongues as they cradled their hope of revenge.

*******************

*Farfarello, it's time.* The blond lounged in the door, watching his lover wash the little girl's face as she coughed and struggled to breathe. The past three months had been a whirlwind of boosting and preparation, retraining the telepath in physical fighting and trying to keep Cassandra alive. And now it was over.

“Is it?” Not that he disliked the girl, but she was only a pawn, a tool, and he knew very well Schuldig had gotten attached. “Out.”

“No, I'll”

“Out.” There was no room for arguing and the brunet stepped to the door, glaring over his shoulder

He paused, door half open. “Far, just make sure it doesn't hurt, ok?” A scarred hand waved him out and he shut the door, the thud of him leaning against it clear.

“Lucas?” A coughing fit had the skinny blond hacking up blood and Farfarello wiped it away, seating himself on the edge of the bed. “Where's Brian?”

“He had to leave. I'm here.”Her hair was brushed back lightly and he smiled at her. “You've been a very good girl, Cassandra.” A tiny smile before she was coughing again. “Here, take these. They'll make you feel better.”

A pair of blue and red pills were held out and he supported her while she swallowed and drank d=some water. “You're leaving.” A statement of fact and he looked down at her. She was smarter than he'd thought; they hadn't even started packing yet. “Is it because I'm sick?”

“No.” They'd always planned to dispose of her. Her eyes started to shift closed and he leaned in close, kissing her forehead. “Do you trust me?” A slow, sleepy nod. “It's better this way. It won't hurt anymore.” All true. Her eyes slid closed for the last time and he leaned back, pulling his favorite knife from its sheath.

One hand on her chest, feeling the slow, uneven breathing and finding each rib to make it in one strike. Her heart beat softly as he positioned the knife over it; between one breath and the next, it slid home without even a jolt of her body. The knife was left in place while he wiped his hands, the little bit of blood staining the towel and he stood and looked at her for a moment.

It was strange to see her lying there silent after the months of chatting, reading, laughing, a cheerful presence in their lives; then the constant coughing, the way she laughed when you read the comics to her, the hoarse rattle of her breathing. He might even miss her a bit. The part of him that needed to, bowed his head and he prayed for a moment, sending her on her way.

*Schu. It's done.* The blanket was pulled up and he opened the door. “Let's go, before she stiffens up.” her limp body was lifted and he cradled her against his chest as they jogged down the stairs, Schuldig blocking them from sight. Once they were out of the city, the brunet just drove until he found a spot he liked and pulled over. His blond lover dug quickly and they laid her to sleep for the last time.

“Far.”

“Yes, Schu.”

“Do something for me?” White hair nodded quickly. “Catch me one.” Dark blue eyes turned from the small grave to look at his partner. “We're going to rip them apart.”

The blond smiled slowly then tipped his head back and laughed, arms spread. 'Yes, this is my hunter!' Slender arms wrapped around the telepath and he nuzzled the pale neck. “Anything. What kind would you like?” It was the same as choosing ice cream for him to track Esset; they were arrogant and often careless as they traveled, moving through their city partially shielded. And staking out the most expensive hotel would find one in days.

Schuldig threw his shields open and the air nearly trembled as his range expanded. “Any one! We'll shred it when we're done anyway, so try to find one that will be fun.” Two miles away, a woman shaving her legs decided she should slit her wrists while she was at it.

*******************

A week later, Farfarello bounced into the apartment and dragged his lover out by his hand. His old apartment, suddenly unoccupied, now housed a newly captured telepath. Or something like it, he could never tell other than the obvious; pyrokinetics, telekinetics, biokinetics. It was useless information and he couldn't care less.

But this, Schuldig would be pleased with; his current captive had been picked up while the rest of the team chased an imaginary attack, the leader left 'safely' behind. The young are so stupid sometimes.

“Well, how cute.” The brunet leaned in the door while his partner wandered around the wiggling body, prodding it with his boot. “Now, now, Farfie, be nice to our guest. After all, he's the key to our play time.”

“Fuck you!” Bright red eyes glared and Schuldig grinned and crouched, tickling under the pointed chin, avoiding the snapping teeth.

“Far, Far, look! It's a hybrid! They finally got one that worked! Not very well, mind you, because he's caught, but it can talk and think, a little.” The shields were tiny compared to his power now and he stepped straight into the young mind, a flick of his wrist bringing chains up to hold the hybrid down while it screamed and growled at him. *Oh, you are precious. Now, let's see. Where, oh where would the organization files be?* They appeared in his outstretched hand and he grinned. *Hmm, well well, Crawford made it all the way up to president, did he?*

The creature stilled. *Crawford?* Schuldig's bright blue eyes turned from the file briefly then returned, disinterested now that he had the information he needed. *Kill Crawford? My leader would like that.*

*Would he?* Still not interested, the redhead skimmed the rest of the file and tossed it aside. Just for kicks, he wandered the mind a bit and blinked at he curled talent. *What's that?*

*Let me go, I'll show you.* A snort from the telepath and the chained form shrugged, grinning. *Have to try. I perform hexes.* A red brow rose in disdain *Really, my curses come true.*

How...déclassé. At least when he went to Rosenkranz only natural talents were allowed. Well, that's enough of that. A step back and he stood. “Far, will you get rid of that, please?”

Sharp teeth gleamed as the blond approached. “Wait, wait! My commander, he'll pay you, to kill Crawford!” A black boot slammed into his cheek, sending him spinning across the floor, spitting blood; Schuldig held up a hand.

“We don't want money, little boy, we want Bradley and Nagi. Nothing more. You and your master are nothing to us.” Fear raged across powerful senses and he breathed it in, eyes closing happily. “Farfarello.”

“Far-fa-rello? Schwartz! You, you were Schwartz, the telepath and his pet! The ones who bought Crawford his seat! You, you”

“Oh shut up.” Instant silence. “Well, Far, looks like our names are still known. Always nice to leave a mark in history, no?” The hybrid writhed, fighting the bonds harder as the blond killer stalked him across the floor, crawling along, teasing him with slow movements. “Take your time, they're in Amsterdam.” And he already knew the name of the hybrid's leader and fully intended to contact him; he would never turn down money. But, Farfarello needed some fun too and he had captured it, so he was entitled to play.

A whirl of his coat and the brunet was gone, striding down the hall to the car. Farfie would just have to walk home. Besides, he didn't want blood stains in his nice little car. It only took one phone call to the emergency number he found in the hybrid's mind and they had a deal; fifty million to an account in Toronto if they disposed of Crawford within the month. Not a problem, Schuldig fully intended to be there within the next two days.

By the time Farfarello wandered home, blood spattered and grinning, their bags were packed and Schuldig was waiting by the door, a plain black coat over one arm and newly dyed hair still smelling of the colorant. *Plane leaves in an hour.*

He was whirled around for a hard kiss, metallic tasting tongue forced into his mouth. “Join me, it'll be faster.”

“Ha! Get moving, choose your weapons, I didn't pack any for you.” A grin flashed before the blond darted off, tossing clothing to the floor as he went. Short black hair shook and its owner smirked at the annoyed groan from the bathroom. “Quick Farfie, can't be late.” The image of a pale finger flipping him off had him laughing the entire time he waited.

****************

It was always surprising how easy getting in to Esset was; it was getting out that was a pain in the ass. They stole a car from a team two towns over, eliminated them to buy enough time and drove through the checkpoints. A brush of talent wiped their presence from the guard's radar and Farfarello ran ahead, removing obstacles as Schuldig did clean up behind him. The door was thick and dark, exactly what he would expect Crawford to choose as his last defense; Schuldig's shoulders rolled before he pressed his hand to the handle, a last nod to his partner before he pushed.