Chapter 13
Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" echoed through the underground parking lot as Schuldig parked his car into the 'reserved for staff only' parking space that he had claimed as his own. He did not get out right away but sat with eyes closed, tapping his finger in time on the steering wheel. When the second movement started he began to whistle along with the violins. The Serenade, a perfect ending to his night.
All in all he had surprisingly enjoyed the benefit. He had gotten to kill two men, or rather two and a half men. He had coaxed one of the would-be Yazuka thieves into shooting his own cousin, so it did not really count. And he had gotten laid. Not a bad night, not a bad night at all.
The sex had really been the icing on the cake. His conquest had been close to middle age with a flat nose and wide mouth that had reminded Schuldig of a chimpanzee. Schuldig had taken him from the back, so that he would not have to see his face. The man on his hands and knees while Schuldig pumped into him, intent on his own orgasm, not caring if the man enjoyed it or not. Besides, the man's grunting every time that Schuldig forcefully thrust into him was quite appetizing.
Schuldig was accustomed to having sex almost everyday. He had not gotten laid since Aya had awoken. He was able to bridle his concupiscent libido while he was in the company of Aya, finding the man's acceptance of him a suitable replacement. But once he had left Aya his coitus desires had risen to the forefront of his mind. Once inside the banquette hall he had begun to look for someone suitable. He usually would have chosen someone who was good looking and young. The man he had fucked like a dog had been Enomoto's only son and the knowledge of how humiliated Enomoto would be when he discovered what his son had done had more than made up for the man's lack of aesthetics. And Schuldig had made sure that they were seen. Once he had decided on the man he had scanned the other guests, looking for someone who was both Enomoto's rival as well as a colossal gossip. He had mentally drawn the man to the cloakroom in time to see him release his seed deep in the son's guts; it had heightened his orgasm, making Crawford's chastising over his unprofessionalism worthwhile.
Schuldig wanted Aya, but he did not want him in his broken state. Schuldig wanted it to be good, he wanted it to be the best that Aya ever had, better than the blond Stricher* had ever been. Better than their cerebral affair had ever been. Schuldig knew that sex was power; sex was control, with the added benefit of physical pleasure. Even more than he wanted to bury himself into that perfect pale body, he wanted to make sure that it was his, and only his. Mediocre sex would not help him to achieve that, so he was content to wait until Aya had regained motor control of his body, was able to properly participate in the act rather then lay lax like a blowup doll.
None of the doctors had any idea why Aya had such poor control over his body. Schuldig had plucked from the neurologist mind his growing belief that Aya had suffered some sort of a stroke and that was the reason that he could not properly function. The man was an idiot, he knew next to nothing about the human brain. Schuldig was positive he himself had diagnosed the problem.
He had been able to pull Aya's conscious out of its slumber, but not the primal parts of Aya's brain. He believed that part of Aya's brain was not really awake yet, like teenager who has to get up early for the first day of school, groggy and sluggish, after having a summer to sleep in as late as they wished. It made perfect sense to Schuldig. Aya's lack of bodily control, his hazy sense of reality, the inability to perform actions in the proper order, his inability to eat making the feeding tube and saline drip a necessity, all of these were the functions of the subcortal and cerebral cortex, and since neither Aya's conscious nor his subconscious controlled these areas of the brain, Schuldig could not either.
It was frustrating, but not infuriating. Schuldig had waited so long to have Aya, he could wait a little longer. He had wanted him even before the explosion of the Fujimiya building. Aya had been seventeen and still using his given name of Ran when Takatori Reiji had first sent Schwartz to observe the Fujimiya family. Admittedly at the time he had only wanted to throw the boy down and fuck him blind, attracted by his unusual coloring and almost ethereal beauty. But then he had tasted the boy's mind and even before Aya's world had been shattered and his innocence lost, his mind had been captivating. After his family's destruction, when he began to only live for revenge, his mind became delicious, ambrosial, and completely addictive. Almost immediately becoming Schuldig's favorite narcotic.
As the fourth and final movement ended Schuldig debated staying in the car and listening to the piano Sonata that came next on the c.d. before he opened up his connection with Aya. He decided that he had finished gloating enough and that Aya would not be aware of how Schuldig had spent the night once leaving the hospital. He had enough control over his talent that he could keep most of his own thoughts and feeling away from Aya, but when overly excited some small fraction might leak out, one of the unfortunate side effects of having established such a deep mental bond with Aya. He was almost positive that Aya would be asleep, but he would rather be safe then sorry.
Schuldig turned off the c.d. player with a sigh, it was one of his favorite Sonatas, but he liked Aya more. Grabbing the duffle bag that he had thrown a few changes of comfortable clothes in and the plastic bag of toiletries that he had bought for Aya, he gets out of his car and opens the link he has with the younger redhead.
Grey static, like a television turned to an unused channel, is all he finds. For a moment he is alarmed but the feeling is almost immediately replaced with cold rage.
Diese gehirnloses Stücken Primatenscheisse**, they had drugged him. And from the lack of activity, even from Aya's subconscious, they had drugged him with something potent.
He takes the stairs two at a time, with his ability to move with beyond human speed it is faster than the elevator. When he reaches the fourth floor he throws open the door, half hoping that he slams it into someone's face. Giving someone who works in the ward a broken nose would make him feel a little better. The iota of satisfaction would help to calm him down. Unfortunately, there is no one on the other side of the door; it slams into the wall instead.
He stalks down the hallway, fighting the urge to grab the stationed nurse by the throat and tear through her mind to find out why they had knocked Aya out cold. Instead he settles for glaring at the woman as he passes her. She is young, one of the constantly rotating night staff and she openly flinches as Schuldig passes. Schuldig can sense her fear without having touching her mind at all. It is a primal and instinctual reaction to danger. Smart, smart girl.
He doesn't make any attempt to bridal his anger as he enters Aya's room. He doesn't need to. He could go to room from room and light each and every vegetable on fire and Aya would be none the wiser. Aya is not there. A new wave of anger but now tinted with concern begins to build in him. He tosses the bags unceremoniously onto the bed and turns to go and find out what the hell happened while he was gone.
He almost knocks over the petite nurse who has been tending at night to the patients for the past week. The stationed nurse must have sent her after him. She stumbles from the impact and before she has completely gained her balance Schuldig is tearing through her thoughts. She had been doing her rounds, had gone into Aya's room to change the saline bag and to see if he had to use the bathroom. She had found him belly down on the floor, conscious but stunned, a small pool of drying blood near his head. He had fallen from the bed some time before and been lying there until she had found him. She had heard, as had most of the hospital staff, about the biting incident when he had first awakened and had not been going to take any chances. She had called for an orderly who had come with tranquilizer in hand, sticking the syringe into Aya's ass before attempting to lift him up off of the floor. He saw through her eyes the angry forming bruise on the left side of his face, the split in his cheek, the cause of the blood and the unusual way that his wrist hung as the orderly had picked him up. They had taken him down stairs to X-ray his wrist and to see if there was any other damage. She did not know what the results were or when he would be returned. She assumed that Aya had attempted to get to the bathroom on his own and fallen to the floor, something that Aya was very likely to do rather then suffer the indignation of being helped.
Satisfied with the information Schuldig releases her from his hold. The nurse almost falls again as she lets out a pained cry. She stares at Schuldig with her mouth open, terrified. Once again Schuldig reaches into her mind, gentler this time.
//You have told me everything you know// he informs her, //now you are going to go downstairs and find out how he is and when he will be back//
"I am not suppose to leave the room," she mumbles aloud, "I could lose my job."
//Go find out what the fuck is happening// more forceful this time //if you do not you will be losing a lot more than just your job//
He flashes her a mental image of herself, nose and lips cut off. The nurse yelps again, then turns on her heels, she nearly runs to the elevator. The stationed nurse calling after her, asking where she is going, attracts Schuldig's attention. He strides back down the hallway, already tearing mercilessly into her mind, looking for anything that he might use to distract him until the other nurse returns.
When the small nurse returns, Schuldig practically has the other nurse sobbing. She had started a fire when she was small. Three houses had been destroyed. She had never told anyone about starting the fire and the guilt was a hidden jewel within her. Schuldig had ripped it from where she had blocked the feeling, thrusting it to the forefront of her brain where he blew it up like a balloon. Disappointedly, no one had been seriously hurt in the fire; he could probably get her to commit suicide that very night if there had been. She still might kill herself eventually, if the guilt festered in her long enough. Schuldig is satisfied with this, low and painful could be as good as instant gratification.
Schuldig releases the hold he has on the seated woman and digs back into the other nurse's mind. Aya had broken his wrist and had taken five stitches below his temple. They were not sure if he had suffered a concussion because of the strong sedative that he had been given. The orderly had been written up for giving it to him when it was obvious that he might have sustained a head injury. They were going to keep him under observation until the drugs wore off and they could properly examine him. They thought that a good enough hit to the head combined with the drugs could make him relapse into another coma. They were afraid of being sued.
Schuldig releases the small nurse's mind. He will not damage her; she is one of the nicest of the nurses. She genuinely cares about what happens to Aya, her concern an undercurrent in her thoughts.
Aya will not be back until sometime in the afternoon. He will keep his connection with Aya open slightly. Not enough so that he feels the static, but enough to know when the drugs have worn off. Aya will not like waking up in a strange room and Schuldig wants to make sure that he is there mentally to sooth and comfort him. Schuldig decides that he will go back to his car and listen to the Sonata after all, and then he will go and find himself a more physical form of release. Not sex, he is in no mood for that, but something that includes blood, a lot of it.