Future Tense Part 5
Nagi winced as he entered the club, the blaring music from the huge speakers - called 'music' for lack of a better term - already coaxing the beginnings of a headache. He scowled into the blackened corners of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of bright orange hair so he could drag the telepath's drunken ass home.

He resented the whole situation. More than being ordered to bring Schuldig back, he resented the clothes he had to wear - skin tight PVC was not his thing. More than wearing those god-awful clothes, he resented that the bass beat throbbing through the club was trying to make his brain bleed out of his ears. And even more than all of that, right at the top of the list of all the things he resented in this world, was the fact that he was still physically fifteen and had to bribe the bouncer at the doorway a hefty amount to let him in.

It wasn't like Crawford usually cared what the telepath did - Schuldig could go on as many drink/drug binges as he liked, as far as the American was concerned, since it no longer affected his health in any way. But for some reason he'd taken exception to it that night, and had ordered Nagi to fetch his drunken team-mate back.

Nagi almost sighed in relief as he caught sight of Schuldig's distinctive mane of hair - it had changed colours frequently over the years, but in the end he always seemed to settle on the bright orange - and made his way through the throng of people, creating a subtle barrier of personal space around himself. He didn't feel like getting groped tonight, and although the space it allowed him was smaller than he would have liked it was better than nothing.

Schuldig was seated in a booth in the very back of the club, shrouded by darkness and cigarette smoke. He was waving a half-empty beer bottle back and forth in the air, drunkenly slurring out the verses of some long-forgotten German song.

Unfortunately, it was hardly an unusual sight. The novelty of immortal life had been enough to keep Schuldig occupied for almost four whole centuries before this started. Ever since then, he had been drunk more often than sober.

Part of it was keeping the voices out. As fast as Schuldig learned to shield, his talent expanded so he had more to shield. Getting drunk was a good way to get silence in his head, so he'd taken to hiding himself in a beer bottle more often than not. But part of it was also that Schuldig was an obnoxiously cheerful drunk - everything was funny to him.

Nagi supposed it relieved the never-ending boredom.

It got to all of them in the end, except maybe Farfarello. He had a purpose, a quest to give meaning to his life - Crawford and Schuldig didn't. Crawford's whole aim in life had been to gain control of Estet via the demon - and once that was accomplished, then what? He'd maintained his sanity for as long as he could, watching over his subordinates and gradually expanding Estet's horizons - but in the end he snapped. Hence this whole 'taking over the world' fiasco - Nagi privately thought that Crawford had decided if he controlled the world, he could make it into a perfect place and then everything would be all right again. Schuldig had agreed with him - and if Schuldig, whose opinions were always founded in the truth hidden in people's mind, agreed with him then it was a sure sign that Crawford had finally flipped out.

Schuldig, on the other hand, had loved life. He would try anything - no matter what it was - again and again and again until maybe one day it killed him. But nothing could kill him now, and he'd tried everything the world had to offer - so all that was left was unending boredom.

Nagi was suddenly reminded of a character he'd read in a book one time, back before the summoning - what was his name again? Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged. [1] A completely ridiculous name, of course, but besides that it made a point - Wowbagger was a man who, with immortal life suddenly inflicted on him, decided to insult all the creatures in the Universe in alphabetical order just to cope with the never-ending boredom. Nagi had the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that if something drastic didn't happen soon, Schuldig might well end up like that.

He shook his thoughts off and stood calmly over his friend until the drunk man noticed him. Schuldig slurred through another couple of verses and a chorus before apparently running out of words, realising there was a beer bottle in his hand, and taking a long drink. He blinked around owlishly at the room, and then his eyes landed on Nagi.

"Nagikins!" he cried, launching himself forward to wrap his arms around Nagi's waist, half-spilling off his chair and onto the floor in the process. "When d'you get here?"

"Just now," Nagi said patiently. "How much have you had to drink? Oh, never mind. Come on, Schu, we've got to get you home."

"Eh?" Schuldig blinked up at him through his hair. "Why? I like it here!"

"Yes, but Crawford will blow another fuse if you don't come home right now," Nagi explained.

Schuldig scowled, which made him look cross-eyed. "Crawford's a cold fish," he said, pouting.

Pouting really didn't suit Schuldig.

Nagi rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and hoisted the other man up, holding him up using his powers. It had become second nature to him now, and he never thought about it any more. "Come on, you can drink at home," he said, gently guiding the man towards the exit.

"Oh, okay," Schuldig said, smiling blearily. It always surprised Nagi when he saw the man smile - he was too used to the smirk.

Schuldig passed out on his shoulder halfway through the club, and Nagi sighed and hauled him the rest of the way out, nodding to the bouncer at the exit. He eased Schuldig into his car, which was still bright red - but then, Schuldig's personality demanded obnoxious colours, and it was better than the one experiment in neon pink, he supposed. Even Schuldig ended up hating that one.

Nagi manhandled Schuldig into the passenger seat of the car, then walked around to the other side to get in the driver's seat. Because of his apparent youth, he often got pulled over when driving around, which was another thing that pissed him off - but Schuldig was in no condition to even walk, so driving was the only option.

Sighing to himself, he crossed his arms over his chest and nudged the car into gear, driving off. After a moment he remembered people usually expected drivers to have their hands on the wheel, and rolled his eyes, placing them superficially on the soft leather. Schuldig flopped against the door, appearing to have fallen asleep.

Nagi sighed, and slumped a little. He really, really wished Schuldig wouldn't go out on these binges any more. It might not be able to hurt him physically, but emotionally and mentally he was just tearing himself further into pieces. Not that they all weren't a little crazy, but then again Schuldig was the closest thing he had to a friend - the closest thing he'd had for centuries. Nagi supposed that in a normal relationship he'd have crossed the boundary into becoming family a long time ago, but then the last thing they were was normal.

Crawford was too obsessed with control, and too terrified of losing it, to let anyone close. No matter how much Nagi wished it, he was never going to be more than a work colleague to the other man. Farfarello . . . was just insane. But Schuldig. . . .

Sometimes, when he wasn't paying attention, or when they were alone, Schuldig would talk to him seriously. And perhaps more importantly, he would listen to him seriously. He was the only person in the entire galaxy Nagi trusted with some of his deepest secrets - perhaps because he knew that if he didn't the redhead could find them out anyway, but it didn't change the fact that he trusted the other man with things about himself he had never told another living soul - or that Schuldig had never betrayed that trust.

If . . . if one day Schuldig succeeded in his goal of killing himself, if not physically then mentally, Nagi would have no one left. Not even a drunken addict of an ex-assassin telepath who he barely saw more than a few times a week.

Nagi pulled to a stop at a red light and sat there, feeling sorry for himself and hating himself because he did. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass being permanently fifteen.

But despite the hormones that still ran rampant around his body, Nagi's mind had evolved with his age. And he knew that no matter how stupid it was, his purpose in life - the thing that had kept him sane - was trying to make sure Schuldig stayed alive, so that he could stay sane. When you got right down to it, that was what kept him going. It was for an entirely selfish reason, of course, but. . . .

He needed Schuldig.

"You really care that much?"

Schuldig's voice came out of nowhere, quiet and surprisingly sober. Nagi jumped and tried to hide it, slamming up the mental walls he hadn't even realised were down.

For a moment he didn't answer, shoving the car almost violently into gear and driving off when the light turned green. He gnawed at the inside of his mouth for a moment, then decided to bite the bullet - never mind that you couldn't hide things in your head from a telepath, it was still difficult to admit them out loud.

"You know I do." Nagi sighed and slumped a little further into the seat, hearing leather creak as he did so. He watched Schuldig out of the corner of his eye, trying to make out an expression, but it was too dark to see what - if anything - showed on the telepath's face.

They drove in silence for a while more, Nagi not willing to show any more emotion that he had to and Schuldig . . . well, who knew what Schuldig was thinking. Who ever knew what Schuldig was thinking. . . .

"You do a pretty good job sometimes."

Nagi jerked, the car swerving as he momentarily lost his grip. Yanking the car back into its correct lane, he scowled at the road. "Don't do that."

"Sorry." Schuldig didn't sound particularly repentant - but then, he never did. Nagi stared hard at the road, trying to ignore the rustling sound his companion made as he shifted in his seat.

Finally Schuldig sighed. "You're right, you know."

Nagi risked a quick glance over at the redhead before returning his eyes to the road. "About what?"

"About the binges."

Startled, the Japanese boy stared at his profile for a moment before remembering he should be paying attention to the road ahead of them. Schuldig looked unusually serious, the smirk gone from his lips. Without it, his face looked both poorly constructed, and young.

Very young.

Schuldig started fishing around in his pockets, pulling out a lighter and a dented pack of cigarettes. He lit up, and Nagi didn't bother asking him to open a window. It would have disturbed the fragile balance between them, broken the tension before he found out what Schuldig had to say - and that was one thing he really, really wanted to know. A truthful, serious Schuldig was a very rare thing.

"It's boredom, you know," the German offered, his eyes flicking momentarily to Nagi, before rolling down a window. The cool night air rushed into the warm car, raising goose bumps on Nagi's bare arms.

"I know."

Schuldig took a long drag from the cigarette, letting his hand dangle limply over the edge of the window when he moved the thin bar away. Nagi watched him out of the corner of his eye, slightly nervous at the pensive Schuldig he was faced with. Schuldig was dangerous when he was in a mood like this - you never knew how he would react to something.

"I don't think I'll be bored for much longer."

Nagi frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Schuldig shrugged, tossing the half-used cigarette out of the window and watching the glass roll back up. "Just a feeling."

Shifting, the redhead slid so he was leaning against the door, one long leg propped on his seat. Suddenly the smirk was back, and Nagi relaxed a bit. This was a Schuldig he knew and could deal with. Dangerous, yes, volatile, yes, but also predictable. And that made it safe, because he could predict how to react.

"Ne, Nagi," Schuldig said, still smirking, "you remember that Omi kid?"

Nagi blinked at the sudden change in subject, raising his eyebrow at Schuldig. "Yes," he said - how could he forget when they lived every day with the reminder of Weiss? "Why?"

Schuldig was still smiling, but there was something strange in his look now. Nagi couldn't remember if he'd ever seen it before - but he didn't feel threatened by it. Not in the least. And intuition was the most accurate thing you had to work with around Schuldig.

"You were friends, right?"

Nagi sucked in a deep breath, and let it out again slowly. If he lied, Schuldig would know - and for some bizarre reason, the German never had liked it when Nagi lied to him. Oh, he was inordinately proud whenever the boy lied to anyone else and got away with it, but then double standards were often Schuldig's forte.

"Yes," he said, then blurted out, "but if you ever tell Crawford I swear I'll-"

"No need to worry about that, Nagikins," Schuldig drawled, the strange look replaced by smug self-satisfaction. "I wouldn't dream of enlightening Brad about your nocturnal adventures five hundred years ago."

Nagi flushed angrily. "Don't make it sound like one of your cheap porn films, you-"

"Pay attention to the road, kid, you're gonna miss the house," Schuldig interrupted, grinning.

Nagi swore and swerved into the driveway. Schuldig was up and out of the car before he had a change to think about locking the doors until the man deigned to explain what the hell he was talking about-

[Nothing much, chibi. Just glad I made a right decision, is all.]

WHAT right decision?

Schuldig turned in the doorway and grinned at him, white teeth flashing in the darkness. [You'll see, kid. You'll see.]

Schuldig! But the man was already gone.

Nagi scowled and locked the car, trudging up the steps. Sure, Schuldig may have kept him sane, but he was of half a mind that the only reason this was so was because he had an example of how NOT to be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I still say we should wake Heero up for this," Duo said, swinging his legs back and forth from where he sat on the table. "I mean, I know we have all the information in the known universe stored on the UESA net, but this kinda thing's gonna be bloody hard to find."

Sally wagged her finger at him, keeping one absent-minded eye on the console. "Heero is my patient, and you are not waking him up without my say-so," she said. "He needs rest, he did break his leg you know."

Duo rolled his eyes and hopped off the table. "I know that," he said. "But he heals faster than the rest of us anyway, so why can't I wake him up?"

"Because he'll just go on ignoring his injury like the five of you always do, and then he'll do something stupid and I'll be the one who has to treat him for it," Sally reminded him.

"Hey! I resent being dumped in a group with that suicidal maniac!"

For the past few hours, the group had been taking it in turns to search the UESA database. Quatre had started it off by looking up the address Omi had given them, and past ownership references. The records did stretch back quite a long way, but stopped not more than two months after the date the four strangers had given them. The building was apparently standing at that point, but there were no records of ownership whatsoever. According to official records, the building hadn't even existed at that point - but it was plain to see from other records and references to the area, as well as outdated maps, that it had been there.

Which was, needless to say, really weird.

It was so weird that what was a routine check had turned into a full-out hunt through the UESA database for any form of record pertaining to that particular building. So far, there was absolutely nothing to be found - and even though it was over five hundred years ago, the UESA was so particular about finding anything connected to Estet in any way that they had been particularly interested in records from the time near the beginning of the organisation's rise. Any form of record from that time had been scrutinised and set aside, searching for any clue - no matter how small - of a weakness of the ones at the top of Estet.

So for records to simply . . . not be there, was really freaking weird.

Sally sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Staring at a computer screen didn't help your vision any. "Nothing, again."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Which is why we should go wake up Heero! Come on, the man's a damn genius, he'll be able to find it."

Sally sighed again, and scowled at the computer screen. "I'm beginning to think you're right."

"You are?" Duo blinked, then grinned and jumped off the table. "All right! Let's go wake him up."

Sally snorted and stood. "Fine, but I'm not the one who's going to wake him. I don't want to die yet."

"Wake who?" Heero said from the doorway.

Duo jumped and spun around, clutching his heart. "Damn, Heero, don't do that!" he said, leaning back on the table. "We were just gonna come wake you."

Heero scowled at him - but that was nothing unusual. He limped into the room, crutch tucked under his arm. His leg wasn't badly broken so Sally hadn't put it in a cast but a brace, which clacked when he walked. He hated it. "Why?"

Duo pointed at the computer console. "We're looking for the records of a building called the Koneko no Sumu Ie, from around the twenty-second of July 2001. The building was standing at that point, but from the official records you'd think it didn't exist. Help?"

"Did you try the Preventers database? If they acquired the building at any point since Kritiker was formed the original records would have been moved to the private database to cover up the acquisition and who it was bought from," Heero said. It was standard procedure, to erase records during the period of ownership - usually with false records in their place, but not always. Sometimes the lack of records itself was a plant.

Duo smacked himself on the forehead. "Dammit, why didn't I think of that?" he complained, grabbing the seat from Sally and sitting down, rapidly logging onto the Preventers database. A quick search of the address pinged up two results.

"Bingo!" Duo cheered. "Heero my man, you're a genius."

"No, you're an idiot," Heero responded, grudgingly taking a seat as Sally glared at him.

"I'm hungry," the blonde woman announced. "I think I'll join Trowa and Quatre in the break room, now you have Heero to back you up." She patted Duo on the shoulder and left.

"Sure thing, Sal," Duo said, opening the first entry and grinning at it. "Yup, it's all here clear as day," he said, scanning the information laid out on the screen. "Kritiker acquired the building in the early 1980s, registered under some woman called Momoe . . . apparently they used her as an observer on their only lethal team after her retirement from active duty. . . . The second file seems like it's on the lethal team," Duo said. "Nothing about those guys yet, unless they're the lethal team," he joked.

"What guys?" Heero asked, scowling at being out of the loop.

"The ones I picked up from the space station."

"What about them?"

"Well, they seem to think today is in 2001, and Quatre swears they're not lying or brainwashed," Duo said. "Which is really weird, because last time I checked it was definitely AC 203."

Heero frowned. "Is it possible they could be an experiment of Estet's?" he said. "Brought up in a microcosm, perhaps. The leaders are undeniably insane, maybe these four could just be another facet of their insanity."

Duo frowned and nodded, waiting for the file on the Kritiker lethal team to come up. Whatever was in there was certainly extensive, because it was taking quite a while. "It's possible, I suppose," he said. "That would certainly get past Quatre's empathy."

"Where are they now?"

"Still in the holding cell. I had the kitchen send them up some food, but we can't risk assigning them quarters until we know what the heck is going on." At last the page loaded and Duo started scrolling down, skim reading as he went. "Woah, these guys had a good kill rate. . . ."

"They were a lethal team, Duo," Heero reminded him. "What do you expect?"

Duo snorted. "Over one hundred and fifty targets successfully eliminated in two years? That's roughly one, maybe two a week. Considering that their targets were often large underground gangs or highly-guarded politicians, that's pretty good going."

Heero shrugged. "They were professionals."

Duo rolled his eyes and scrolled down further. "Hey, these were the only recorded people to get out of encounters with Schwarz alive! I remember this - Une made us study the reports of the battles from head to toe, trying to find a weakness in those freaks." He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Funny how she never let us study the fighting styles of the operatives, though - respect for the dead or something." Duo snorted. "Like that's a good reason."

"Une can be funny where honour is concerned," Heero said. "She's still trying to be who Treize would have wanted her to be."

Duo shrugged. "Yeah, well, I think she gets it a little screwed sometimes." He leaned forward suddenly, scrutinising the report. "Okay, this looks more productive - hey!"

"What?"

"Says I don't have the authority to access those reports. What the fuck? I'm one of the highest ranking Preventers there is in the whole of the goddamn UESA!"

Heero stood up and walked over, peering over Duo's shoulder at the screen. "You need Zechs' permission to access this file," he said at last.

"What the - why, for God's sake?"

"It's highly classified information - I'd imagine it has a lot on Schwarz in it, and it's heavily protected so the enemy doesn't find out what we know," Heero shrugged. "Is there anything else here of use before you go bothering him?"

Duo scanned the rest of the page quickly. "No . . . at least I don't think so. Something about a transfer of one team member from one group to another [2] - that's it." He sighed and closed down the window. "Looks like we're gonna have to go bug Zechsy about this one."

"He'll be on the bridge at this hour," Heero said, checking his watch.

Duo sighed and stood, cracking his neck. "Lead the way, my man."

[End Part 5]

[1] Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. ^_^ Incredibly good book.
[2] Aya's move from Crashers to Weiss.

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