FicWad

Alex was halfway to the door when the voice stopped him, soft and normal and out of his mind.

"Where are you off to?" Tai asked, sounding as casual and concerned as he normally did these days. He was leaning on the kitchen table, just visible from the living room, with a row of open textbooks spread out over the area. Calculus, English, Biology. Nothing too amazing but necessary all the same.

"Just for a walk. I tend to do that, you know." The redhead shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the door. He was feeling on edge, all pent up emotions and empty corners, and if he kept looking the door would disappear in ash. "I'll be back."

Later. Eventually. Someday. Early.

-ey're late. Too late.

Sweat on his brow, adrenaline in his veins as if he'd run a mile when he'd only taken ten steps. Panic, annoyance, racing thoughts that stumbled over each other. A hand on his arm-one tightening, one pulling.

"Alex?" Tai's fingers curled into the fabric of the other boy's sleeve and tugged on it until blue-grey eyes focused on him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Alex muttered, shaking the hand free to swipe a piece of hair away from his face. "I need to go out, by myself. If..."

A raised eyebrow. "If?"

"When...if....shit. Look, I need to go by myself," the redhead snapped like his fingers.

Tai snorted. "Well, if it's anything like any of your other walks, you'll run into half your family."

Alex glared and turned away, reaching for the door handle before he was even in reach. "Later, Kudo."

The door swung open before he could open it himself. Youji Kudo took in the scene, shifted the bags in his arms, and bit the inside of his mouth. Alex stared back. His hair stuck up in an odd angle here and there, eyes glinting and dangerous. Youji found himself half-listening for that nasal tone in his mind and it must have shown in his face because the firestarter sneered, pushing past the ex-assassin with his jaw set.

His footsteps echoed down the hall, then the steps, and Youji turned to his son with a wry expression. "Where's he going?"

"Who knows," Tai sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. "I don't even think he does. And then he'll just show up again."

Youji grinned. "I always warned you abut feisty redheads. You should pay more attention."

The black-haired boy threw a pillow at his father and stomped out of the room.


*

His steps echoed down the alley, pitter-pattered like heavy rain over concrete and faltered at every corner. There were other footsteps, he dimly realized, that weren't his own or his shadow's. Someone else, then. Friend or foe or something not really there.

Ghosts, maybe, or a memory of something else. He'd have to ask about that later.

There was an awful lot of red.

He didn't know what was wrong, but his shoulder burned between collarbone and lung. He rubbed at the spot and nearly cried out in pain as it flared and spread. This was new. This was unpleasant. This-

"-wasn't supposed to happen."

The ground was cold under his feet, seeping in through his boots and curling in vines up his legs. The contrast made him shudder and struggle away from fire and ice but there was a hand around his bicep that wouldn't go away.

"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, why am I panicking?!"

And that goddamn voice wouldn't shut. up.

Maybe if he closed his-no his eyes were already closed. That wouldn't help. And he couldn't close his ears or his brain either, so all hope was lost there.

"I could shut off your brain instead," he felt himself say but it seemed faraway, underwater like everything else.

"What?! No! No, don't even try it. Jesus. Where the hell is everyone?!"

"In hell?" Brett suggested, blinking away the air-water haze and managing a short smirk before he relapsed. Not that he wanted to, but his chest was making it difficult to concentrate on facial expressions.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, bastard. I'm panicking and worrying while you crack wise-ass...hey! Wake up!"

Kirito shook his cousin, his own widened eyes trying to make amber-brown meet his for more than half a second at a time. The telekinetic had listened to his father when he lectured about emergencies but hadn't thought...hadn't wanted to think that he would ever be on his own with a bleeding telepath.

"/I have a bad feeling about this/, I said. But did anyone listen? No. Of course not. Why listen to the non-precog?" he babbled to himself, hands pushing down on the blackened red entry wound. "I need an adult," he decided and looked around for one to appear.

Brett's eyes rolled towards his voice, peering through a sweat-dampened lick of red. "Need to keep...running."

"Yeah, because that's working out so well for us."

Kirito had blocked the alley with a dumpster and a weak field but he was tired, worried, and had a group of determined enemies chasing them. Brett couldn't change their minds and couldn't tell him what the bad guy's moves were going to be which left them with...

Two guns, three clips, and one person able to shoot.

"Throw a building at them then, jackass," Brett snarled, temper sparking and making him jolt closer to the Japanese boy.

A can flew threw the air and bounced across the pavement at the mouth of the alley, in the direction they were heading for. Kirito stopped short, jostling Brett and making the redhead curse.

"Ehehehe..."

"Kirito....if you start laughing like Uncle Far on a bad day, I'll kick your ass."

"But it's-" Kirito started to protest, looking towards the entrance then stopped and blinked. "It's...it's..."

"Damn. Tai is going to be smug for a month," Alex said and kicked the soda can again, making it ricochet off one grimy wall. "I don't even want to know what you two are doing alone in a dark alley."

The sound of his brother's voice made Brett look up, staring through too-long bangs, and he felt his lips curling into a sneer. He looked terrible and ugly, skin shining and grey-tinged and features flicking between personalities. "We're not you."

And Alex realized that Brett probably knew everything, more than either of them wanted him to, and the knowledge made the firestarter's palms itch. Even as he knew that this was the one person he could never burn. "Aren't you lucky?"

Brett's face shifted again, pinched with pain before he ducked his face out of view.

Kirito watched all this with a confused, anxious expression. He hadn't seen his older cousin in years but knew enough of what had been going on from Cailin. It was great to see him, sure, but...

"If I'm not needed here, I'll just drop the mortally wounded jackass and leave the sulking one to save, kick, or mock him. Sound good?" Kirito growled. "Because not much else is getting done and there's a dozen guys somewhere behind us."

Brett chuckled. "How forceful."

"Shut up."

Alex held his hands up, a smile threatening to break through the corner of his mouth. "I'm not stopping either of you."

"You might as well be," Kirito told him and half-dragged his cousin forward a couple steps. "In case you didn't noticed, we're having a rough time here."

"What happened?" It sounded as if it had been asked against Alex's better judgment.

"We were on a hit mission. There was only supposed to be a couple members but there wasn't. Otherwise Sir Snarkalot here wouldn't be bleeding on my favorite shirt."

Sir Snarklot flipped him off.

"Anyways, we need to get back to Schwarz or get them here. I can't concentrate and Brett's probably-"

"He's having a vision," Alex interrupted, gesturing towards the precog with one dismissive hand even as he found himself moving towards the pair.

"What? Oh, hell. What's happening?"

Brett tried to turn back to the way they came from then froze. "We need to move, one way or another."

Kirito shifted his hold on the other boy. "What do you think we've been trying to do?"

The redhead ignored him. "They're going to split up and circle around and while we're fighting Team Two, your shield is going to break."

"Great. Let's go." Kirito looked from one brother to the other when neither moved before stopping on the older. "Are you going to help?"

Alex sighed and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his army jacket. "I only wanted to go for a walk, you know. I didn't know you two were here."

"And you were in a dark alley because...?"

"Why do you think?" he asked a bit sharpely.

"Because I'm human. Isn't philosophy fun?" Kirito rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Fine. Whatever. Just /move/," he finished and pushed Brett towards Alex, making the firestarter grab his arm to steady them all.

"We need to make it to the car and to the house soon," Brett said, suddenly urgent, and he headed towards the street. "I'll leave both of you and drive myself if I have to."

They made it to the car fast enough, all things considered. There had been one gunman closing in on them and Alex had watched with morbid fascination as Kirito-the quiet kid that had competed with Brett over the most childish things-snapped the man's neck with a look. There was a crunch sound and a thud-splash as the body hit a questionable puddle.

"Will anyone find it?" the Japanese boy asked.

A pause, then Brett said, "Not until tomorrow."

"Good. Alex, ride in the back with Brett."

Doors closed and tires squealed against the damp ground as Kirito hit the pedal with more force than necessary. There were rain spots and a smudged Cheshire-faced cat on the window next to Alex. Schuldig had probably drawn it on a long, boring ride to what would become a homicide case.

"It wasn't an assassin job," Brett said from the vicinity of his shoulder. Alex glanced down. "We were going to the beach and Uncle Far had called shot-gun so my Schuldig couldn't control the radio."

In the driver's seat, Kirito laughed. "Remember when those guys looked at Cailin too long? I didn't think anyone could run on water but I think they did."

"Red light but no cars or cops. Go," Brett said and the car continued to speed forward. "Then that woman stared at Uncle Far too long and Cailin scared her off with a plastic shovel."

"Sounds like fun," Alex said dryly, staring out the window and trying to imagine it. It was fuzzy and worn like hand-me-downs, not nearly as brilliant as it should be.

Kirito fell silent and concentrated on driving. Brett made a noise of agreement then started to lean away, eyebrows furrowed. Alex grabbed him before he could fall onto his injured side. It looked as if the adrenaline that had kept him moving was dying down in his veins.

"Was it a clean shot?" Alex asked, looking at his brother's back. He didn't see an exit wound but maybe they had some luck on their side.

"No, it's still in there," Brett ground out, fingering the ragged wound and hissing.

They had passed one hospital already and would go by a smaller medical facility. They wouldn't stop at either of them. Alex couldn't remember ever going to a hospital when he was younger, couldn't remember the other children being sent to them either. He didn't even know if any of them had been born in one. There were only his parents and Uncles, half-remembered figures and cash passing hands.

He shouldn't care. He was past all of that, the doubts and anger and concern.

"Do you have what you need at the house?" he asked Kirito and the telekinetic just smiled grimly and nodded.

Too long later they pulled in front of the house, the pale walls and black rod-iron gates of Hell. They opened to let the car in and Alex suddenly felt like he was in too deep. "Stop."

Kirito didn't stop until they were in the garage, the killed the engine and hopped out. Together they helped Brett out of the backseat while the telepath griped and bit his lip. It reminded Alex of the first time his brother had had a vision and blood had dripped on to their new carpets.

That was right before he left.

"Come on," Kirito urged, shuffling forward, the yelled, "Cailin!"

The garage was empty except for Schuldig's Mustang, the play toy that no one touched and rarely saw the light of day. There were light footsteps then the door opened. Cailin stopped. Her eyes widened slightly and one hand started to rise to her mouth, looking like any other girl would in her situation. But then a veil was pulled over her, made her shoulders straighten and face become calm, determined, and understanding.

"What happened?" She ran down the steps and gently pushed Alex aside, examining Brett's wound and the steady trickle of blood. She brushed her hands off on her skirt, smearing it with red on black.

"More than we thought would," Kirito answered her as they maneuvered Brett up the stairs.

"Da and everyone aren't back yet. Alex, could you run into the bathroom and get some towels and peroxide?"

Nodding, the older of the four ran into the house, through the still familiar rooms until he found what he needed. Brett was on the living room floor, where it would be easier to work on his injury, and watched them all with a bemused expression.

"We can't do anything but clean it until Uncle Nagi comes home," Cailin said. "He'll be able to get the bullet out without hurting him too much."

"You don't know how to take a bullet out?" Then Alex realized that it was one thing to take a bullet out of someone's leg or arm than someplace with vital organs. "I can't believe you let yourself be shot, brat. Getting slow already in your old age?"

"I felt bad for them. They were...trying so hard," Brett drawled.

Cailin giggled as she cut his shirt off with a pair of pink-handled scissors. "You're so nice, Brett-chan."

Alex snorted. "Maybe Santa will be extra generous this year."

"Goody. That's worth the inevitable scarring."

"Some people think scars are sexy."

Brett sniffed and tried to achieve a superior look. "I don't. Why, do /you/?"

Alex was sorely tempted to punch the telepath in the arm but Cailin was resembling an overprotective mother bear and the desire left quickly enough. Instead he shifted and gold eyes flickered between the two brothers. She was too clever, he fondly decided.

Long fingers wrapped around the firestarter's hand, sharp nails digging into flesh for a moment before the grasp loosened. Alex stared down at Brett, almost pushed pointed bangs out of the younger boy's eyes as if that would let him read the other's thoughts.

Brett opened his mouth and said, "They're back."

"Shit."

Alex ducked away and stood, fighting against a wave of dizziness the quick movement brought. On the other side of Brett, Cailin stood up as well and reached for him. "Akkichan, why don't you stay?"

"I can't. I need to go. If they..."

"They'll come in through the garage," Kirito said, rubbing his forehead against what was probably a migraine. "So if you want to leave, go out the front door."

"It's not about want, it's about need."

The Japanese boy leaned back against their leather armchair, knees tucked up to his chest with one arm resting over them. "I don't know. Maybe it is. All I know is I'm tired, you haven't been around in a couple of years for some reason I don't entirely understand, and that by this point it's a matter of pride."

"And prejudice," Brett commented with a laugh before wincing.

"Don't try to be witty while you're bleeding," Cailin scolded, folding her arms.

"Yes, dear."

The garage door was opening, a dull groan in the background.

Alex moved away from the trio, towards the front hall.

"You could stay," Cailin said to his back.

Alex grinned. "I could."

But he didn't.


*

He had left, edged away from the house until he was beyond it's walls and boundaries. He had left without knowing where he was going. Not back to Tai, not yet. Not to some warehouse. Instead he had wandered around for the rest of the night, some roaming soul with harsh shadows along the lines of his cheekbones.

Now his shoulder was aching, a dull hot ache that was in the bone and unnatural. It wavered in and out of existence, a different type of phantom. Alex rubbed at it when it flared up, tried to counter it with his own heat and it slowly subsided for one reason or another.

When his feet stopped, he was back home.

Cailin was just beyond the gate, spidery white fingers curled around black iron as she stared at him with worried gold eyes. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, stray curls falling to frame her face. She looked like Persephone, waiting to leave or be taken back and her pomegranate stained lips smiled at him.

"You're back."

Alex shrugged, looking around warily as he crossed the street. "Funny, that."

There was a cut on her face, he noticed, from the shell of her ear down the line of her throat. She noticed his staring and looked down at her hands. "Brett did it. His shields were weak and Uncle Brad gave him some pills. It made the pain go away but it broke his shields like cobwebs."

"So it wasn't him."

"Why were you here yesterday?"

The question threw him more off balance than it should have. "Because Kirito would have made me one with a brick wall if I hadn't followed along. That kid got scary while I was gone."

"They told me. But...why were you /there/?" she pressed, even as she unlocked the gate and forced it to open. Noiselessly, without the creak or protest of any other gate.

He walked through it and kept walking, up the front step and pushed open the door-noiseless except the tinkle of a bell-until he stood hovering in the living room's archway.

Brett was on the couch now, sitting up a bowl of ice-cream on his lap. His hair was pushed out of his face with a headband, looking eerily like Schuldig. When he noticed Alex he stopped eating, nearly dropping his spoon. "You-"

Schuldig's head snapped up at Brett's surprised exclamation. Blue eyes widened rather comically when he noticed his eldest son. The German stood, cigarette dangling from his mouth, dangerously close to falling. "Yuuzai?"

Alex smirked. "Yo."

"You're back?"

"No. Well, technically. Is..."

"Dad and Uncle Far are cleaning up some bodies," Brett told him as he set his bowl down on the coffee table. Alex understood it was meant to be helpful, that the person he knocked shoulders with and the person that cared for him the most were both out. But it left he feeling as if he was on uneven middle-ground.

"Want a smoke?" Schuldig said, quite eloquently, breaking his train of thought.

The firestarter blinked. On the couch, Brett tilted his head to the side with a curious expression.

"That's it?" Alex finally deadpanned.

"Well, I'd have a feast for the prodigal son but Far might get a wee bit maniacal over that," Schuldig drawled. His bare feet made no sound on the wood floors as he went to stand near Alex.

Alex's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I mean."

"I know. But really, the initial shock is long gone. You're the face behind the muddled connection Brett has with someone and I'm honestly not surprised. He wouldn't tolerate anyone else," Schuldig smirked, winking at Brett.

"You're not angry over what I did? You're not going to kick me out without even knowing why I'm here?"

"Kid, you can do whatever you want. At your age I was screwing Brad, killing people, and taunting kittens," Schuldig counted off on three fingers.

Brett made an amused sound. "What's changed?"

Blue eyes look amused and knowing as they met Alex's stare. "Not much."

Alex blinked again, suspicion working it's way into his expression.

The telepath patted Alex on the shoulder before heading out of the room. "My point is that we're the last people that can condemn you from being whatever the hell any of you are.

"And with that parting pearl of wisdom."

When Schuldig was gone, Alex shook his head and walked to the couch, collapsing on it even as his instincts told him to run out of the house and not return. Instead he sunk into the over-stuffed cushions.

"Ice-cream?" Brett offered. "It's Chunky Munkey."

Alex grimaced. "I hate that flavor."

"I know; that's why I offered you some." Brett scooped up a spoonful for himself and sat back, looking self-satisfied.

"Brat."

Brett turned, and Alex noted the contrast of skin and gauze over his torso. There was a tinge of pink in some spots. He waved his spoon around as he asked, "Does this mean you'll be around more?"

"Will you buy an ice-cream flavor I actually like?"

"Sure. It's not my money."

"Then maybe."

"Good."