It’s a Small World

Dear gods, and I thought the last chapter was hard to write!! Here it is, at last. Please review, you have no idea what I went through to get this done.

******

Schu couldn’t stop laughing. Not that he wanted to; he loved the way it was scaring Kudou. Silly kitty didn’t realize he was as safe as–safer than–Brad. Schu was more careful of his toys than his lovers, since good toys were harder to replace.

Speaking of lovers–he’d recognize those shields anywhere. And ooh, looky, here was Kudou’s beloved kitten, come for his lover, trying to poke holes in Schu’s prey. Through Schu’s lover, and that just wasn’t going to be happening.

Nobody but Schu was sticking holes in Bickley–or Brad.

Hell. Music. A real entrance required music, even if only in his head. Something loud, triumphant, sweeping–yeah.

The Hallelujah Chorus would do just fine. Schu glared at the ceiling, and laughed again as it exploded in silver and gold sparkles.

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hal-le-lu-jah–

********

Crawford was pissed. That redheaded bastard was going to run him through; he could see it in those stunning eyes. Given six seconds, he could escape Bickley. Then he could evade Ran. But he didn’t have six seconds. Options, Oracle, this was unacceptable. How–

A familiar brush on his shields, and Handel’s Messiah reverberated through his mind. Crawford threw back his head and laughed with his pixie. Ran lunged, and halted as though caught in amber. He struggled, but when the floor exploded behind him, he rolled his eyes and withdrew.

Schuldig floated up through the hole, spinning fireworks around him. Poised like an angel on a wire in a Christmas play, hair flaming about his face, and a chorus of thousands providing the soundtrack in his and Crawford’s minds. And Ran’s, if the look on his face was any indication.

The German touched down and smirked as he pulled out a pixie stick.

“How rude!” he exclaimed. “Brad in a manwich, and you didn’t wait for me?”

********

How the fuck did he do that? Yohji stared at the hole and fought the urge to run and the damn music in his head. Goddamnit, Schu had left him behind, why? And how the fuck did he do that? Nagi did stuff like that. Not Schuldig.

Mad, he wanted to be mad, not scared. Though damn it, if Schu was going to start blowing things up, away from him was a good place to be. Schu just wasn’t–careful.

::Ja, like you are. Now that I’ve made my entrance…::

A giant purple ghostly hand wrapped around Yohji. What the hell–

“Hey!” he yelped, shoving the towel down. “Watch it!”

::Sorry, Katzchen,:: andYohji could tell he wasn’t sorry at all, ::I slipped.::

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Yohji demanded as he was lifted into the air. Then he realized that since Schuldig, who shouldn’t be able to anyway, was lifting him up through the ceiling, he probably ought to quit sniping at the man at least until his feet were on–

Aya! Aya had come, Aya had come! He wanted to sing it but Aya would hate it. Aya had come–

::Told you so.:: Schu set Yohji down behind the big hole he’d made, on the far side of it from Aya. Bastard, he was only doing it to hold on to center-stage. His audience was the blonde Bickley, and Crawford, and–Aya! Yohji started around the hole; Aya flicked his eyes and stopped him. What–duh, Kudou, he had his sword out–

“What a lovely morning this is turning out to be,” Bickley was saying. Aya looked–oh damn, Aya looked hot. In the jeans and a half-buttoned shirt and barefoot and the sun rising behind him–

Schuldig said some stupid smirky thing about a party. Why was Aya barefoot and, by Aya standards, barely dressed?

Why was Crawford barefoot and as barely dressed as Aya?

Ew. Ew. Erase, erase! This was Aya, there was a good reason, a very good reason, there had to be, this was Aya.

Why was Bickley using Crawford as a human shield? Didn’t he know Aya would gladly kill the Oracle?

Only Aya wasn’t killing anyone, why–

Hello, Kudou, time to pay attention?

::Need a scorecard?:: Schu asked even as he shot another sarcastic remark at Bickley, who Yohji thought had answered the other one with something about Schu making himself at home.

*******

Aya had his target, and Yohji was alive. Everything else was secondary.

Yohji was wearing a towel. Prodigy had not blown the roof up, Mastermind had. Mastermind had brought Yohji onto the roof, wrapped only in a towel.

Secondary.

Watch for the opening.

********

“Bickley,” Crawford interrupted the posturing, “you stand a better chance of surviving if you let go of me.”

“Oh, right,” the bastard chuckled. “Schuldig is not very happy with you right now either, is he?”

That was an understatement. Crawford knew his pixie, knew it was a matter of seconds before his delight in the drama was overcome by remembered rage. Bickley, he thought, was probably first on Schu’s “Kill Quickly yet Painfully” list. But Crawford himself had to be a close second, and the two of them standing together was just asking for–

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” Bickley said softly, and behind Schu, Balinese threw out his wire. Bickley was not that strong a telepath, was not–

He was strong enough to send Ran after Schu as well.

“How disappointing,” Bickley muttered. “So that is Kudou’s redhead. I had expected he had more strength.”

“Try making him to do something he hasn’t dreamed of for years.”

******

“Damn it, Schu, quit showing off and make him stop!” Yohji snarled since he couldn’t do anything else, including catch and strangle the German bastard he was quite willing to attack without the compulsion, now. Schu wasn’t dodging, still his wire and Aya’s sword could not get through, how the hell did Schu have these powers–

::Aww, pretty kitty not having fun?::

“There is just one moon and one golden sun,” Yohji sang, hoping Schu shared his opinion this one was worse than the other. “And a smile means friendship for everyone…”

“Though the mountains divide,” Aya joined in, nearly knocking Yohji over in shock, “and the oceans are wide…”

“It’s a small world after all!

“It’s a small world after all,

“It’s a small wor–“

::Guess where you’re waking up next time,:: Schu promised. But the compulsion vanished with the song. Yohji yanked back his wire as Aya spun on his heel and leaped.

*******

Aya snarled as Bickley caught his blade, just like that bastard Oracle. Who had been shoved out of the way, damn, missed the two-for-one–

Secondary.

“Fascinating!” Bickley muttered, blocking the knee Aya tried to slam home. He jumped away, just out reach of a roundhouse slash. “Let’s see…”

Aya breathed and focused, past the urge to kill Yohji for what the towel must mean, to how much he wanted to kill this bastard first. It slowed him, though, fighting himself and–

“Stand down, Kudou!” Maybe he got it; Yohji backed away. Without him in sword reach, Aya focused on Bickley.

“Delightful!”

The ‘kill Yohji’ urge changed to ‘tackle and fuck.’ It had been days, needed to touch Yohji, adore that golden skin–Aya concentrated on stabbing this blonde first, feeling the initial resistance, then the give and the blood as the blade penetrated–

“Schu,” Crawford called, “help Ran, Bickley’s more–“

”Ran!?!” two voices demanded. Aya swung the katana one-handed, tried to punch the blonde as he dodged–Bickley smiled.

“Single-minded indeed. However…”

Aya stood firm against a rush of fear. If Aya-chan were in danger, it was from this bastard. Focus and fight. Attack. Aya had left her in the care of his teammates, Omi and Ken would die before they let her come to harm, only Schwarz or this man could get past them, kill this man–

The push changed again. No. They were not dead already. Bickley was here, Schwarz was here, kill Bickley then Schwarz and protect them.

Crawford. Right there, he’d kissed Aya and sailed them into an island and he was in easy–

Secondary. Bickley first.

“Impressive…”

********

Ran, was it? Schu thought about incinerating the swordsman, but–freakazoids on the stairs, he flamed them instead, and considered while Abyssinian made an idiot of himself. Bickley was stringing him along, must need the workout…

Kill Fujimiya and Kudou would fall apart, he had no doubt. Broken beyond any fun whatsoever, the man really was besotted. And whatever Brad’s feelings, Schu didn’t believe for one second that he’d gotten anywhere with the icy bastard.

So it was just one more thing to torture Brad for. Like he needed something more.

Heh. Nothing said he couldn’t torture Ran too. And he knew exactly what to do to the walking icicle, too.

Whee! This was fun.

But as soon as he aimed a blast of Instant Arctic at the bastard, Bickley maneuvered him out of the way.

Like that, was it?

********

And just like that, Schu had a new favorite game. Interfere now and he’d never be forgiven. Crawford sighed and righted a chair and poured himself some coffee. Balinese shrugged and sat opposite him, poured himself a cup sloppily, as he couldn’t take his eyes from the fight.

“Bickley isn’t going to let Schu kill Ran.”

“I’m supposed to trust in that bastard?”

Lifting his coffee, Crawford shrugged. Kudou took cream and sugar. Lots of sugar. Well, that was hardly a surprise.

“Ran?” Balinese asked. Crawford smiled, remembering in time not to try for the glinty-glasses move. Damn Ran anyway.

“How can Schu suddenly do all that stuff?”

Smile wider, since he didn’t have a clue either, and fervently hoped it wasn’t a permanent condition.

His wild child cackled and sent a bolt of crackling blue at the pair. Bickley showed he was toying with Ran, getting behind him to yank him out of the way. As he held the redhead against him, he said something in the perfect ear that held the little hoop. Even without his Talent, Crawford knew where that would go. Ran was so predictable, except when he wasn’t. Unlike Schu, whose only constant was chaos. Predicting the wild child was actually easier–Schu would do absolutely anything, sooner or later. It was just knowing when that made it hard. But some things happened more often than others. If Schu kept these new-found Talents, Crawford had no doubt he’d be dead in a week, that was how often the German got around to hating him.

But damn, power looked good on his pixie.

*******

Yohji winced in unwilling sympathy as Aya’s elbow found Bickley’s ribs, hard. God, he knew that pain–

Bastard deserved it, and more. Aya was his.

Since Botan was dead, anyway.

::Gott in der Holle, are you still stuck on that?:: Schu demanded, sending flames again as Aya whirled away from the blonde, bringing his sword up in an incredibly beautiful–

::Can you stop fucking around and just kill Bickley? Please?::

::So you can start fucking around?:: Schu asked. ::Horny much?::

::Like you aren’t. Crawford’s right here, Schu-Schu, and look, he’s already almost naked.::

::Suicidal much?:: Schu demanded, laughing as one of the mental-deficients made it up the stairs, to throw himself on the fire Schu’s bad aim had just started in a potted plant. Yohji shuddered. God, these people were fucked up, what the hell? ::They’re open to suggestion, Kudou, they’ve had their brains removed. Sort of like you. You want to make a try for Brad, go right ahead. I’ll bet you a week of slavery I nail Abyssinian before you get Brad-chan’s panties off.::

“Stay away from him!” Yohji snarled aloud, then shrugged and smiled at Crawford’s raised eyebrows. The American turned back to the fight as he sipped his coffee. Yohji looked at him and thought about him, it was the best he could come up with to get Mr. I-got-even-more-power-to-play-with to give it up and end it already.

Ooh, now that was interesting. ::Schu-Schu, are you watching?::

::Kudou, you’re a sap. Brad does not look like that.::

::What, you think I’m touching up the images before I broadcast? You know better, or you ought to.::

::He doesn’t look at me like that.::

::Not when you’re looking.::

::What are we, twelve?::

::Want me to pass him a note, ask him if he likes you?::

::Does Abyssinian ever get tired?:: Schu demanded. Yohji smirked.

::Never.:: Examples sprang to mind, making his toes curl. ::Will you please end it?::

*******

::You don’t have to fight me,:: that damn voice said again. Aya let it slither around his mind; it wasn’t like he could stop it. ::I can give you everything. Ran. Yohji is already here, your sister would be safe here. You think there are no guarantees, but I can give them to you. I can keep everyone you love safe.::

Like the mindless bastard still twitching on the plant.

::He fought me, Ran.:: The bastard smiled. ::Even when I did this.:: Faster than Schuldig, strong fingers grabbed Aya’s skull. Aya sagged.

Fight! He would not be weak. Don’t drop the sword, never let go of–

“Bastard!” Yohji howled, barreling into the blonde. All three went down in a tumble of limbs. Aya fought to bring the sword up. Had to–

“You,” Bickley said, wrapping a hand in Yohji’s hair, “can wait.” Yohji stiffened in agony. Sword–forget the sword, Aya bit. Bickley swore, but didn’t let go.

“My kitty!” Schuldig snarled. Aya’s skin stung as turquoise fire brushed him, but Bickley–and somehow Yohji–were shielded, the flames licked around them but didn’t touch.

The full force struck Bickley’s shield, though, sending him tumbling across the roof.

My kitty?

Secondary! Aya used his sword to get up. Kill the bastard, kill–

“Aya!” Yohji grabbed him, wide eyes staring into his. Scrapes from the roof, nothing else, he was safe– “Aya, are you all right? You just–“

”fine…” Kill–

“My ass!” Yohji yanked him close; Aya stumbled into his arms, unable to resist. “You are not fine!”

“I’m not surprised,” Bickley said, “at how well you’ve adjusted to what you’ve stolen.”

Aya tripped Yohji, cushioned his fall as lightning crackled through where they’d been standing. “Damn!”

“Holy shit!” Yohji agreed, as ice shot back. “What the hell?”

“I’m not surprised,” Schu returned, “at how pathetic you are even with all this to work from.”

“We don’t have to fight, Schuldig. Come to me, and–“

”I serve no one!”

“Aya–“ Yohji rolled them out of the path of a wave of virulent green– “Aya, can you run? We have to–“

”Too powerful,” Aya growled, trying to free himself. “Kill him now–“

”Aya, you can barely stand!” Shocking pink enveloped them. Yohji gasped and choked; Aya yanked him down, exhaled into his mouth.

The pink vanished, the floor shook. “Schu, damn it!” Yohji yelled, “be careful!”

Schuldig didn’t hear him, Aya was sure, as the German bounded over them to tackle Bickley. Attempt, anyway, they could not touch each other. Bolts of every color imaginable shot and bounced and ricocheted and–Yohji eeped and rolled them behind a fountain.

“Come on, kitten, I’ll carry you, we gotta–“

Why didn’t–the Oracle couldn’t do anything, Aya realized. Crawford simply sat there, and when a blast did strike him, it coruscated around shields like the others’. But he didn’t do anything. Schuldig and Bickley were far out of his league since his power wasn’t working. The bastard hadn’t warned him about the island because he hadn’t known, and he’d let Aya think–

Killing Crawford was still secondary. Bickley–if Aya could get close, he could find a way. The psis were too evenly matched, someone needed to tip the balance. Kami, to help Schuldig–

“How did Schuldig get like this?” Aya demanded, interrupting Yohji’s pleas to run away. “When you reached the island?”

“No…I mean, could have, but he didn’t start tossing anything around until–“ Yohji sat up, eyes wide. Aya yanked him down as bilious yellow exploded the top tier of the fountain. Yohji yelped, but tugged. “Aya, come on!”

Yohji had a plan. Aya followed.

The rooftop turned plaid.

“Your taste is as bad as your aim!”

“And here I thought you’d appreciate my creativity.”

********

Schu felt the first one die. Fortunately he wasn’t using her power at the time. He grinned as Bickley faltered. So Kudou had found his brain after all?

Right where he’d left it, in the redhead.

“Well?” he asked Bickley. “Ready for round two?” Cold-man died, no more ice blasts. Bickley-bastard tried to interfere; Schu blocked him. The blonde bared his teeth and slammed at Schu. Anime-hammer, Schu’s own creation, he let it ring down through his shields and dissipate.

Time for one he hadn’t shown the fool?

“You idiot!” Bickley growled, and bashed again. “I spent ten years gathering that pool!”

That pool? Was there another?

Damn, there went the pyrokinetic, so much for the joys of arson. Schu shoved Bickley while he still had telekinesis–damn, but Nagi ought to be grinning all the time–and clapped his wrists together. Make it look good, now–

“Ka-me–“ Bickley knew the show, his eyes widened, “–ha-me–“

”Schuldig–“

”–HA!!!” Damn, sparkly-light boy died, the colors faded, but the power was his…

Bickley staggered, and his teeth bared further.

“I will have you,” he snarled, attempting a gong. It didn’t work; Schu didn’t shield that way. Bastard should have known that. “You, and the empath, and the precog, and Ran!”

Empath? Kudou? And what the hell did he want with the icicle? Besides what everyone wanted with the sexy bastard, damn him?

Verdammte Gott, what had Schu missed?

Later. The last of the “pool” died. Now it was one-on-one.

“Ja?” Schu asked with a smirk. “What’ve you got?”

“Try me.” Bickley lit a cigarette and offered it. Schu took it.

::Fool!:: Bickley crowed as Schu staggered, what–

Schiesse! The bastard didn’t know telepathy because he wasn’t always a telepath. Or a healer, or a telekinetic.

Bickley’s inborn power was vampirism.

::Sleep, my lovely one. I will not kill you.::

::Not yours!:: Schu snarled, but he didn’t have the strength to back it up. Scheisse!

::Now you are.::

Brad…

*********

Too late to be of any use, Crawford’s Talent was suddenly back, when the only people in sight were two he couldn’t read. Schuldig had fought Bickley to a standstill, in a moment he would–

His flame-haired wild child sagged into Bickley’s arms. Crawford ignored his surprise to pull his back-up gun and fire. Aiming wide, without his Talent or his glasses, he didn’t dare try for a real shot. It did what he needed. Bickley turned, Schuldig limp against his chest, and walked.

“I think you,” he said as he approached, “are the only disappointment in all of this. The most powerful precognitive to come out of Rosenkreuz in twenty years, they said. The man who brought down Essett, they whisper. And with hardly any effort at all, I have your team.”

Crawford chuckled. “If you think you have Schu just because you knocked him out, I’m tempted to let you learn your mistake on your own.”

“He is mine. And so are you.”

Point blank, Crawford pulled the trigger again, but the gun didn’t fire. He set it down and stood, adjusting his vest.

“What do you expect me to say? Make my day? Take me, I’m yours?”

“I’d prefer if you just shut up, but I don’t expect it will happen.”

Crawford jabbed, straight punch to the jaw, and caught Schu as the bastard staggered back. What to do next, though–

::Don’t…:: Schu’s voice was a whisper against his shields, a breath of what it should have been, ::touch…::

No choice, fast as Schu Bickley surged back. Crawford sank down, let Schu fall in his lap as he caught scrabbling hands, keeping them from his throat. And felt scrabbling at his shields.

“Will…have…you…” Straining hands, straining mind, strong as Schu, damn–

::Hold…:: Schu’s face buried in Crawford’s chest. ::Hold…::

::Take him!:: Crawford snapped, though clearly the pixie couldn’t. Damn it, what– ::Use me!::

::Strong…:: Schu sent on a wave of surprise. ::Could…kill…::

::Do it!:: Crawford opened the path only his wild child knew. But with the way Bickley–

Crawford felt the power drain from him; he let Schu have it all. Like the phoenix reborn in flames… He sagged as his pixie surged upwards, caught Bickley’s temples between his palms.

“Four words, baby,” he said. “Lo-bot-o-my.”

The blonde screamed once before he fell unconscious, the stupid smile already in place. Schuldig giggled and poked him. “Teach your grandma to suck eggs, boy.” He raised a shaking hand to Crawford’s face. “Well? Are you scrambled, or still my tightass bastard?”

“If I’m yours,” Crawford pushed out, “you’re mine.”

“I see no need for reciprocal ownership.” Schu poked Bickley again. “Aww. My very own vampire.”

“No more pets, Schu.”

“But Bra-add…”

****

That song I won’t mention again doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to–well, you know.