A/N—(BxS) (OxN) This is a story about Brad and Schu. It is a Brad angst about his past, present, and possible future with Schuldig. Due to the fact that little is known about his past, I have taken a few creative liberties, but they should still be in character. There is a bit of Omi and Nagi incorporated as well in future chapters. This is a shounen-ai/yaoi fic, please read and review
Disclaimer—I don’t own Weiss Kreuz or any of the characters in it ^_^; but I wish I did!
FOREVER STAINED Chapter 1
“You are forever stained,” a gentle whisper calls.
A small figure leisurely approaches my lifeless body. Emotionless eyes swiftly study my still figure. Small, fragile fingers tenderly explore pink, luscious lips trailing down the nape of my neck. Probing fingers soon wraps around the sturdy neck of my body. My hands tremble up my bruised neck, grasping the figure’s delicate hands; eyes slowly open only to see an immaculate boy.
“Those eyes,” I tried to voice out, muffled, as if the words were unspoken, carried away by the bitter air.
A tiny moist droplet fell upon my cheek. I reach up to touch his frail features, but his image cracks into a million shards. Piercing indigo orbs searching my chestnut ones, his eyes pitying me before his image shatters lacerating my ethereal entity. Rivers of blood travel down my wounds, warmth dispensing from my being. My eyes expanded in sheer agony, forcing the vessel I occupy to sit up breathing heavily; clenching my once crisp white shirt. A nasty, painful sizzling hum tackles my eardrums.
My body temperature rises as I feel a burning sensation. The rivers of blood now look like oil on a sweltering pan. Screaming, a malicious sound surrounds my being. Feminine appendages viciously bolt from below me, devilish nails pierce my skin, and crimson slime oozes from the newly formed gashes. They haul my body toward the pool of blood, drowning in this red mass. Glasses float to the top of this red mass, a fleeting moment, darkness pounces into my soul; nothing, but the twinkling of my glasses remains.
Panting in horror, I sit up from a dream that I have seen many nights before.
Ripped ivory sheets lay before me, “Why. . .why does this dream haunt me?” I said in a spiteful tone.
A vile, faint cackle echoes in the room. I reach for my gun as a figure crawls away from the shadows, entering the moonlight. A boy with jet-black hair and sapphire eyes gazes at me. The boy’s gaze pierces through me, searching for a tainted window within me. Nothing but dark ice waters lies within.
“I am Brad Crawford, Junior,” the boy said softly, a small smirk forms upon the boy’s mouth.
“Ju. . .Junior,” as the word left my lips, taking my aim off the boy. Junior, a name I was once called long ago; a name I despised. Even the thought of it gave me chills.
The boy walks towards me,
“Junior. . .you really have become a nobody. I’m disappointed in you,” he says bitterly as he takes the gun from my hand.
“Your good for nothing mother had high hopes for you. . .too bad she can’t see you wallowing in this God forsaken hell hole!” my forgotten father said angrily, pointing the gun directly at me.
“Good-bye Junior,” the boy pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun echoed through the building as the bullet hit my chest; again I was dead.
“It’s 8:27 a.m. Where’s Crawford?” the telekinetic asked himself, looking around the room. Nagi searched the area carefully, making sure not to make too much noise.
“I’ll be late for my class if he does not show up soon!” the boy said with concern.
Nagi headed toward the front door . . .
“Let’s go,” a deep, aloof voice said.
Nagi froze as he whipped around to see Crawford fixing his tie and slipping on his sleek black loafers. Nagi studied him vigilantly; there was something different about Crawford that was peculiar.
“Are you ready?” Crawford said without looking up at the boy as he picked up his briefcase.
“U. . .un,” the telekinetic said shakily. The two men headed towards Crawford’s beamer.
The ride to school was unsettling; the telekinetic did not want to disturb the American while he was driving, but something was distressing him. Crawford looked a bit worried, almost as if something appalling happened recently.
Did Crawford have a vision? Even if he did. . .Crawford never concerned himself with them much. Did he receive an unsettling phone call? Maybe Schuldich and Crawford had an argument, Nagi wondered. The car came to a halt when they reached their destination.
Nagi got out of the car quickly, taking his bag and said firmly, “I will take the bus home when I am done here.”
Crawford looked at Nagi and gave the telekinetic a simple nod. Nagi closed the car door and walked toward the school building; Crawford left the school grounds, heading toward his destination.
A golden orb glanced around the spacious kitchen of the apartment. The Irishman rummaged through the white kitchen cabinets, looking for anything scrumptious to plop into his mouth.
“Damn. Nothing,” Farfarello said coldly.
Farfarello picks up a gleaming, sharp fillet knife from the knife block on the kitchen counter close to the stove and started rummaging through the refrigerator. He found two whole King Salmons, ginger, and teriyaki sauce. He takes out a small black pot and pours the teriyaki sauce in it, thinly slices the ginger with the prized fillet knife, and puts it into the pot.
“Now the fun begins!” Farfarello says with a huge sadistic smile plastered across his face.
Farfarello picks up a cutting board and plops the two salmons harshly upon it. With his fillet knife in hand, an evil cackle leaves his lips filling the room as he swiftly plunges the knife into the fish’s tender belly, guts falling out upon the wooden cutting board. His hand digs into the dead fish, de-gutting his victims.
“Oi. . .what are you doing?” a sleepy voice calls.
“I’m having a little fun in the kitchen. I’m making us some breakfast,” Farfarello says coolly.
The redhead walks into the kitchen in nothing but silky-smooth, burnt sienna boxers that leave little to the imagination. Schuldich takes a seat, yawning and watching Farfarello making breakfast.
“Sleep well, Schuldich?” Farfarello asked, wondering why the redhead slept-in.
/Why do you ask? Ah. . .wondering why I slept-in. . .I didn’t feel like getting up so early. . .besides, there’s no reason for me to be up at the crack of dawn. Why did you get up so early? / Schuldich said mentally in a soft tone.
“I heard Nagi this morning. . .apparently Crawford had a late start as well,” Farfarello said nonchalantly.
Schuldich raised an eyebrow, looking at Farfarello in a serious manner. Farfarello noticed Schuldich’s glance and dismissed it just the same. Farfarello placed Schuldich’s breakfast on a plate and passed it to him. Schuldich looked at what lies before him.
“Farfarello, I didn’t know that you knew how to cook!” Schuldich said flabbergasted.
“Devils always have their way,” Farfarello says with a hidden grin.
“Mrs. Crawford?” a servant girl asked.
A beautiful slender woman with sensuous long golden hair, and deep brown eyes gently glances at the girl standing before her.
“Take the day off. I will take care of my son today. . .besides I would like to take him to the park,” Mrs. Crawford says in a sweet, delicate tone smiling at the young girl.
“As you wish Madam,” the servant girl says, returning Mrs. Crawford the smile and silently leaves Mrs. Crawford to her paperwork.
Mrs. Crawford stares into the morning sky, observing the colors that have tenderly glazed the heavens. She closes her eyes taking in the atmosphere around her, meditating on the new information given to her yesterday by her son; the power that he now possess’.
“Mommy. . .I. . .saw you in a dream,” Junior said in a gloomy tone.
“What’s wrong dear?” I said with concern. I knelt down beside him, looking into his eyes to figure out what was disturbing his spirit.
“Leave him alone,” a cold voice calls. I turn around to see my husband, Brad Crawford. His sinister indigo eyes glowered at me behind his transparent glasses, as he combed his fingers through his jet-black hair. He walked toward my son and I as he grabbed my wrist; he pushed me to the side, my heart dropped as I saw the event unfold.
“Junior. . .what did you see?” Brad said in a malicious tone. Junior looked into his father’s eyes as Brad clenched his shoulders harshly; I knew my son was afraid, that was the first and only time I saw fear in his eyes; it was disheartening to witness. I knew once Junior took his gaze off Brad, and looked at me, Brad would hurt our son in a heartbeat.
“Don’t you dare look at her! Tell me what you saw!!” Brad shook Junior back and forth like a rag doll. After shaking our son back and forth for several minutes, Brad’s grip tightened and then it loosened. Brad’s hands dropped to the floor, slowly. I closed my eyes for just a moment, a sigh of relief passed through my lips, but as soon as I opened my eyes I saw Brad slap Junior across his face.
Horror coursed through my veins, my heart was yelling ‘No. . .Please stop it!’, but not a single word, not a single word escaped my lips. Junior’s body flew across the room, his body lay still, blood, blood formed around Junior.
“Brad. . .please stop it!” I said shakily; I ran toward my husband and looked into his unresponsive eyes. I gently placed my arms around him and I whispered,
“Please. . .Brad. . .I. . .” I stopped to meet the harsh gaze of my husband, in hopes to voice out my own words through my sorrowful eyes. His hands trailed up my navel, breasts, and chest, until he reached my chin and cupped my face.
“Junior had a vision. . .I need to know what it was,” he said delicately. I looked at him in confusion, wondering what his exact words meant.
“Junior is able to see parts of the future. . .just as I can. I believe that he had his first vision and I need to know what it was,” Brad said mildly as he walked away from me and picked up Junior. I just stood there as Brad walked out of the room with our son.
As I open my eyes, I see our son reading a book in the garden under a great big sakura tree.
“Junior. . .what have you done today?” Mrs. Crawford asks casually. Junior said nothing; he didn’t even look at his mother.
“Mr. Brad Crawford Jr. . .I love you,” Mrs. Crawford said in a compassionate tone, smiling at her son.
A vision. . .of the past?
Crawford contemplated; he remembered elements of the event that took place in his mind. However, the vision was in the perspective of his mother. He felt her pain; it was a strange feeling.
“Mr. Crawford,” a stiff, feminine voice called. Crawford looked up at the secretary standing before him. Crawford quickly stood up from the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in, without taking his eyes off the secretary in front of him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Crawford, but he cancelled the meeting with you today. He would like to meet with you tomorrow at 12:00 noon. He has made reservations at the restaurant across the street for the meeting with you. He told me that you could bring your teammates with you if you desire, but their presence is not necessary,” the redheaded woman said.
“I see,” Crawford said to the woman. He left the office and headed out of the building. He got into his navy beamer and put the key in the ignition. Before Crawford started the car, he sat in the driver’s seat for a moment to think about the vision he had received at the office. Crawford was bewildered by the fact that his vision was of the past in someone else’s perspective.
Was this a new ability? Crawford thought. His head started to spin again. Another vision was being played out in his mind.
“Elizabeth!” a voice called.
“Brad!” a delicate voice called back.
“Brad, you know that you aren’t suppose to see the bride before the wedding!” she said softly as she saw her to-be husband in the mirror. Elizabeth was wearing a long elegant satin off-white dress with sequins along the mid-section of the dress. The dress was strapless; accentuating her voluptuous breasts. She wore long, sleek, off-white gloves.
Brad looked at Elizabeth in amazement and said, “Liz, you are absolutely gorgeous.”
Elizabeth blushed furiously and gave Brad a delicate smile and said, “I think I should tell you something before I walk down the aisle and become your wife.”
Brad looked at Elizabeth with some concern trying to figure out exactly what was going to pass through her soft, luscious lips. “What is it darling?” he said.
Elizabeth gazed into Brad’s eyes, smiled gently and said with excitement, “I’m carrying your child. . .I’m two months pregnant!!”
Brad went up to Elizabeth with a grin plastered upon his face and looked into her eyes and gave her a long passionate kiss.
“Excuse me. . .Mr. Crawford. Please take your lips off my daughter. You have time to do that after the wedding!” a voice called towards the two youngsters.
Elizabeth and Brad broke away from their intimate kiss to look at Elizabeth’s mother standing by the door. Elizabeth’s mother was a bit angry by the sight of her daughter kissing Brad before they got married.
“Brad you know the rules. . .you are not suppose to be here! Please return to your dressing room. . .you will see Elizabeth very soon,” Elizabeth’s mother said very firmly.
“I’m sorry, madam,” Brad said to Elizabeth’s mother and turned to his wife-to-be and placed a small, gentle kiss upon her hand and left swiftly.
Brad Crawford Junior. . .that’s what I will name my son.
After the vision, Crawford turned the key in the ignition and drove off.
Crawford wondered about the visions that he has been having. He was not quite sure what to do with the information that was given to him, but he was definitely confused. He did not know why he was having these visions.
Crawford’s cell phone rang, disturbing his thought process. He answered the phone.
TBC. . .
A/N—I know this may be a little confusing, but Junior is the current Brad Crawford.
Where now?
Chapter 2 (not up yet)
Weiss Kreuz Fiction
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