damned_institute | [NIGHTSHIFT 35] M31-M40 HALLWAY

"'Someday' is not today," Artemis countered. And for that, he was eternally grateful to Schuldig. If today had been the day he'd died, he would have regretted it bitterly, that much he knew. He hadn't even said anything to Haku before he left. Part of him hoped Schuldig was listening to all this, so the assassin would know how much this second chance meant to him.

Artemis frowned slightly and pulled his jacket over the wound in his chest. "Schuldig, who is 'Near'?"

Schuldig had no intentions of answering Mello's spoken questions; not when answering his thoughts was so much more devastating to the man's psyche. So he simply chuckled. "A little of Column A, a little of Column B," he informed the burned blond. "You're absolutely going to suffer for this, but what good is it if Arty's not able to take some pleasure in it? After what you did to him, I think he deserves to witness your karmic retribution." He got to his feet then, in one smooth movement - best not to linger too long or too close to Mello when the man was so desperate, when he'd certainly lash out at anything Schuldig left too near him the first chance he got. To make sure he didn't attack too soon, the telepath gave him a parting kick in the stomach with the heel of his foot (kicking from the front, in slippers, would've been painful) before stepping out of range.

"Near," Schuldig informed Artemis with a smirk, "is the boy genius who's superior to Mello in every way. Isn't that right?" he said over his shoulder to the blond. "You happen to have a lot in common with him, and it just drives the poor thing crazy." He paused briefly, then pulled up his shirt to pull out the CD player that was still tucked into the waistband of his pants, holding it out to Artemis. "Oh, yeah, this is for you. It was starting to get really fucking uncomfortable."

Logically, Mello knew that he should have kept his thoughts as impenetrable as possible, but attempts at counting, reciting forensic textbooks, and repeating simple mantras fell flat in disguising other thoughts. For the first time in his years of existence, he was annoyed that he could think of so many things at once.

When the weight rose from his back Mello pushed himself to his knees immediately, just in time to catch Schuldig's kick. A sharp exhale and he pressed one hand to his stomach but continued to push to his feet. Most of the dizziness had vanished but he could still taste blood, probably from his nose or forehead. Attempting to wipe his face only smeared Artemis' blood across his own. When Schuldig spoke, a sharp spark of anger lit his thoughts, but it was one of the safest responses he could have hoped for. Artemis already believed that...he'd heard it from Near himself, though he'd been given the name Nate.

"No, it's not," he said, almost believing it. His breath was shallow but steady. There was a difference between a rival and a superior. His eyes shifted to Artemis for an instant before returning to the real threat. "But yeah, you remind me of him. You're both cocky brats who think you're worth more than you are."

Could Schuldig predict his actions, or only his thoughts? He'd have to make his decisions quickly...or fall back on instinct and not make decisions at all. He glanced to the flashlight on the floor, the blade in the man's hand, and the chairs on either side of him, but was careful not to make a decision.

Artemis' eyes narrowed in thought. Near. A cocky brat who Mello had a problem with because of his intelligence. That sounded a lot like...

N. Nate. Near. It made sense. The corner of Artemis' mouth turned up in amusement. "This is your own personal hell, isn't it Mello? Surrounded by people you hate," he wheezed. He found he was still winded, and had some trouble breathing. No doubt that would go away soon enough, though. "And people who remind you of the people you hate. Hell truly is other people, isn't it?"

With some difficulty and the aid of the desk, Artemis managed to stand when Schuldig held something out to him. Slightly confused, Artemis took it and tried to make out what it was in the dim light. After a few moments of examining it, Artemis' jaw dropped.

"How...? Nevermind," he said, opening the new CD player. Inside was a CD, a general mix of classical music that Artemis knew he would enjoy. He hadn't listened to anything in days. And he could share it with Haku as well.

Overwhelmed by the situation and the gift, Artemis felt his throat tightening and tears coming to him. To think he'd almost given up, when he had so many allies to call on. People who listened, to even the most mundane things. Carefully, Artemis moved one step at a time to Schuldig and hugged the assassin around the middle.

"Why?" he asked. That question couldn't be answered with, 'Hello, telepath.' at least.

While Schuldig had expected gratitude from Artemis, he'd clearly grossly underestimated the depth of it. While the tears didn't actually materialize, he knew they were there as much as the boy did, and -

...And he was being hugged. By a child. That was something that had never happened before.

Although the sheer unexpectedness of the situation shocked him into a moment of immobility, Schuldig quickly pushed Artemis back at arm's length. It was less a product of awkward embarrassment as it was the full knowledge that Mello would doubtless try to take advantage of the distraction and he wasn't going to get concussed over an embrace on this or any other day. "You helped me, I help you," was his brief response before he turned his full attention back to the blond, knife at the ready.

Mello started moving as soon as the boy reached to embrace Schuldig, assuming that even if the telepath acted he wouldn't move fast enough to protect both himself and Artemis. Either one would work as a target with a large enough weapon, ad a large enough weapon was what he was certain to choose...a chair should be able to keep Schuldig's knife (his knife? When and how had that been taken?) away from his own body.

Retreat would have been smarter. They wouldn't have followed him into a hallway, and even if they did, he'd be able to find a populated area within seconds. The clinic was only a few doors away, and no one would attack him there. Unfortunately, the impulsivity that had saved Mello's life so many times before was sometimes a double-edged sword.

"It wasn't--"

Artemis was about to say that what he did hadn't been for Schuldig's sake, but not only was that a lie, there was a chair coming at both of them. Mello was still in a rage, apparently so much so that he hadn't registered that Artemis, according to the laws of physics, should be dead. This was a very dangerous mad dog, apparently.

"Look out!" Artemis shouted, knowing a split second later that saying so was probably unnecessary. The boy tucked his prize to his chest and jumped back, out of the way of the chair. He reasoned, quite soundly, that considering he had a hole in his chest, he wouldn't be the best asset to the fight. It would be more prudent to leave this to the professionals.

So Artemis did what he did best: he hid under the desk.

Considering that Schuldig had fought professional assassins before - in one instance, three at a time - Mello really didn't stand much chance of providing a challenge for him. Certainly no one could swing a chair fast enough to hit the quickest member of Schwarz unless he was being held in place.

There were only so many ways to stop the swing and get the chair out of Mello's hands, however, so Schuldig went with the most direct - if somewhat painful - route; he shot forward, actually into the swinging arc of Mello's arms, grunting when the blond's forearms hit his ribs mid-swing. However, it was considerably less damage than being hit by the chair, and the impact jolted the chair out of Mello's hands - he heard it hit the floor behind him.

More importantly, he was now inches from Mello, and he still had the knife. In seconds, he had the blade pressed so firmly into the flesh of Mello's neck that the pressure alone might be cutting into the skin. "Stupid, stupid move," he hissed, smirk broad and eyes wild.

Mello's eyes went wide as he felt the chair slip from his hands and clatter to the floor. How-

Telepath. Fucking telepath. He understood it but he couldn't process it...it was even harder to grasp than the existence of Shinigami. The idea that his thoughts were being broadcast-

No. Don't think. Just act. As soon as he felt something against his throat he shoved away from it, his hand shooting out to catch the arm in front of him. As long as Schuldig held the knife he also held the clear advantage. Mello was willing to risk a few cuts to gain the control a weapon would offer.

Artemis scrambled back away from the chair, deeper into the enclave of the desk. Being a genius in this place certainly was dangerous. First he was stabbed in the chest, and now he was cowering under a desk hiding from flying chairs. What a night this had been already...

The boy leaned back in the shelter, holding his chest and breathing deeply. Damn, would he be in any condition to do anything tonight? His lung was still damaged, but not in peril. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Let Schuldig take care of things.

That was just what Schuldig had been waiting for. The idea of breaking Mello's wrist had occurred to him earlier; now it seemed all the more appealing, not to mention an excellent way to cause agonizing pain. He did have the knife, but for one thing, Schuldig wanted Mello to survive the night - when it came to dragging out torture, the Mastermind was even more vicious than the Berserker, even if he worked with minds rather than flesh - and for another, he wasn't as good (or as interested) as Farfarello was at bloodplay.

Besides, the man holding a hand attached to a shattered wrist had all the power in the world...not to mention the ability to cause screaming pain with the smallest twist.

He did drop the knife, but it wouldn't do Mello any good; with both his hands free, Schuldig promptly grabbed the blond's outstretched wrist and turned it, bending Mello's hand back over itself -

It really didn't need much pressure at all.

[Almost forgot to make an OOC note - Rose decided not to bring Farfarello into the thread, so all mentions of his impending arrival previously should be discounted.]

He wasn't sure if he heard the snap or felt it, but there was an instant of comprehension and dread before his mind flooded with white heat. "Fuck!" he hissed loudly, using his full weight to try to yank his hand from Schuldig's grip. The movement intensified the pain more than he would have thought possible and although he bit his lip, he was unable to suppress the sharp sound that accompanied his intake of breath.

Mello had dealt with this kind of thing before, but it never got any easier. If anything it always caught him freshly unaware, as memory never seemed to preserve the full extent of sensation. With most of his willpower he resisted the urge to drop to his knees, which was surely what Schuldig hoped for based on the angle of his hand.

"Let go of me," he said, voice tight and eyes clenched shut. He was dizzy with pain, but nothing Schuldig could do would warrant a 'please.'

Artemis winced at the sound of some bone or other breaking in, assumedly, Mello's body. Considering he was the one who swore instead of Schuldig, the victim and attacker were clear.

But he didn't dare look out yet. Partially because he was afraid of being attacked again, partially because he didn't want to see what had just happened. Schuldig was going to torture Mello for Artemis' benefit. As much as Artemis was against using such a crude method, it would remind Mello that Artemis was not a person to be treated so lightly. He would attack Artemis again on pain of death, most likely.

So the boy sat under the desk, eyes glazed over as he tried not to listen to what was transpiring.

Schuldig simply laughed, which was perhaps the most vicious thing he could do under the circumstances. His amusement was usually dark, but when he had full power over an opponent - when he had an enemy completely at his mercy - the sound took on an insane, manic edge.

"I think," he said lazily, focusing himself more on Artemis' mind to block out the waves of pain in Mello's as he casually twisted the blond's hand on the broken wrist, "that this is the point where you run off with your tail between your legs. I'd say that I'll make you regret it if you don't, or if you ever come anywhere near Artemis again, but...hell, one would imagine that you're regretting it now." A sudden sharp twist in the opposite direction on Mello's wrist followed; he could almost hear bones grinding together. "So I'll make it very simple - if you try anything so idiotic as attacking Arty again, I won't be nearly nice enough to kill you. If you picture the absolute worst things I could possibly do to you, keep in mind that's not just idle thoughts on your part - for me, that's an open invitation. I won't have to kill you because by the time I finished with you, you would kill yourself."

Maintaining his hold on Mello's wrist with one hand, he stooped quickly to pick up the knife. "If you need a sense of perspective, mull over the fact that I consider this a friendly warning." And with that, he released Mello's hand and stepped back, knife poised to fend off any attacks if the blond were really that stupid. He doubted it, but...well, even a telepath only got a few instants' extra warning in regards to snap decisions.

Anger and pain fought for control of Mello's mind, both refusing to compromise. Despite everything, Schuldig's words were perfectly clear and perfectly reasonable: anything Mello could imagine, this man could perform. A few terrible images flashed through his mind the way one can never resist thinking of a forbidden object, and if he'd had the words to think clearly, he would have chastised himself.

As it was, eloquent thought was impossible. He wanted one thing and one thing only: to get his hand away from Schuldig before it could be moved again. The man knew what he was doing...was he really so experienced, or was he reading Mello's mind to know which angle or sudden twist he dreaded most?

How was Schuldig not feeling this?

He opened his eyes briefly, fighting off darkness, but the sight of his hand sent a surge of nausea through his stomach.

He was not going to give in. He couldn't. Not with Schuldig telling him what to do, giving orders as if he were the one in charge. But he couldn't fight any more either--christ, he could barely think. As much as he tried to control his mind, the words continued.

Let go. Let go. Let go. And then, despite overwhelming effort and his promise to himself, a single word: please.

When Schuldig released his arm it was immediately drawn to his body, the fingers of his other hand clenched so tightly around his wrist that they turned pale. The pain lessened but only slightly...what mattered most was that Schuldig couldn't do anything more.

Mello kept his balance and opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the dim glow cast by the nearby flashlight. He didn't leave but he didn't make any movement to attack the man in front of him. The occasion was impossibly rare...he was actually unsure about what to do.

Artemis heard silence, and imagined that both parties had entered a standoff. He tilted his head lightly so he could see what was going on. In the dim light, he saw Mello clutching his hand to his body and Schuldig ready to attack if Mello decided that one broken wrist wasn't enough.

"I think we're finished here," Artemis said, his tone quiet and final. "Let him go, Schuldig. You've made your point beautifully." Artemis coughed again and wheezed a little. After a few breaths, he continued.

"I suggest you leave now, Mello, before Schuldig decides that you haven't learned your lesson properly." He, however, stayed firmly under the desk.

Schuldig smirked at Mello. He hadn't actually expected to get begging out of the man, but oh, how sweet it was that he had. "See?" he purred. "Things go so much more smoothly when you behave."

He didn't take his gaze from Mello when Artemis spoke, but he did take another step backwards, away from him, and straightened slightly into a less threatening posture - although he kept the knife pointed at Mello. "Go," he told the blond, almost pleasantly. "Once you leave, you can justify to yourself that you're giving yourself time to think of what to do next, time to plan, time to heal, and you can start to convince yourself that there must be a logical explanation for all this. By the time you see me again, you'll be absolutely sure that you're in control of your own destiny - not some author, and certainly not some telepath who might know exactly what you're going to do next because he's giving your brain instructions." That was a complete bluff, of course - outside Landel's, certainly he could have done such a thing, but inside it was completely beyond his capabilities - but instilling just a little more horrified paranoia in Mello was completely worth it. "And won't that be nice?"

"No," Mello said immediately. Despite his compromised ability to reason, the bluff would have been obvious to anyone. "You heard Artemis calling for help. If you'd been able to control me, you would have stopped me from almost killing him."

His voice was still pained and his breathing somewhat unsteady as his gaze moved from Schuldig to Artemis and back again. Schuldig was right about his thought process. He couldn't do anything, not like this, but actually saying it to Mello was almost enough to force him to do the opposite. It was more a sign of exhaustion than restraint when he finally took a step back.

This was far from over, he thought, but as soon as the words took form in his mind it was too late to keep them from the reach of the telepath. Knowing that, there was no reason to keep them from Artemis as well. "Don't get comfortable," he said. He released his grip on his wrist just long enough to grab the doorknob, turning to hide his grimace. "Just because you see something coming doesn't mean you can prevent it." As a skilled chess player, Artemis would understand that much.

He shoved the door open then kicked it shut behind him, taking a deep breath and fighting against nature to remain calm enough not to think rashly and not to begin planning. Schuldig couldn't be listening to everyone all the time, but he was certainly listening now. Instead Mello concentrated on sensation. If he let it, was more than enough to block thought.

Artemis waited a moment or two before crawling out from under the desk. The boy was still winded, and was beginning to think that his lungs wouldn't recover completely tonight. He wouldn't be running any marathons anytime soon, but at least he was alive.

Once he was up again he moved towards Schuldig with a tired smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry I had to drag you into this mess."

Schuldig watched Mello until he was well out of the room before turning to look at Artemis, one eyebrow raised. "I was on my way to see you anyway. Besides, I wouldn't have let you die whether you'd called me or not." He absentmindedly rubbed his side where Mello's arms had struck him; he'd probably have bruises, but all in all he'd come out of the encounter relatively unscathed. Not a bad night's work, considering he didn't have his berserker bodyguard with him.

"Still, I thought it polite to at least express some sort of gratitude," Artemis put a hand to his chest and inhaled slowly and deeply. "I'm grateful to be able to apologize."

The boy paused and thought for a moment, "I don't think it would be wise to tell Farfarello about this. Now that Mello has made an attempt on my life, he is more useful alive than dead. He is trying to get the patients to trust him by using a pseudonym on the bulletin, but you probably already knew that. If it comes out that he tried to kill me, more than just you and Farfarello will be upset." He looked up at Schuldig. "I trust you understand where I'm going with this."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks all around," Schuldig muttered, feeling more uncomfortable by the moment. Of the various emotions he'd had directed at him, gratitude wasn't one he knew how to handle very well. "Don't get too used to it."

The Mastermind tilted his head, eyebrows raising. "If you know where you're going with it, so do I," he pointed out. "Anyway, Farfarello would kill me if I told him for not getting to you faster, so don't worry about it."

Artemis smiled up at Schuldig. Farfarello had been the same--rather uncomfortable with Artemis' sudden display of emotion. He would back off for now, but Schuldig probably already knew about the types of thoughts flitting through his mind.

He really almost died there. Artemis had already realized that this place was too dangerous to withhold any feeling, but what he hadn't realized was how dangerous and close to imminent death he was at all times. He never wanted to feel regret concerning a friend ever again. Tomorrow, he had to visit everyone--all of his friends--and let them know. Immediately.

"You have a point," Artemis agreed. "He would be rather cross with everyone involved. Best keep it to ourselves."

The boy took out the CD player from his coat pocket and examined it again. "How did you get this anyway? I haven't seen one like this in the music room."

Gratitude might be an unfamiliar emotion to Schuldig, but preening with justified pride was comfortably familiar and he accepted Artemis' invitation to do so without hesitation. "I spent most of today betting at the casino in town to earn enough money to buy that," he informed the boy, smirking. "I'd been planning on giving it to you before the bus ride back, but I didn't get the chance - and you don't want to know how difficult it was to get that thing on the bus when it was still wrapped in plastic. Or how fucking difficult it was to open." He held out a hand, displaying a scabbed-over cut along the length of one finger where the packaging had been particularly vicious. "I didn't exactly have scissors. Oh, and before I forget," he added, "the batteries are rechargeable. But it was enough of a pain carrying that thing around by itself, so that's still in my room. You shouldn't need it for awhile, anyway."

"Excellent," Artemis said with a grin. "Haku will love this, I know it. Thank you so much. I'll be careful not to get it confiscated. Perhaps I can liberate a few more CDs from the music room as well," he smirked up at Schuldig.

The boy tucked the player safely into his coat, gave another small cough and took a moment to right himself. "The Captain is waiting for me, so I should be off before he becomes concerned." He looked down at his front, which was covered with blood. "He's going to be a little surprised I think."

[NIGHTSHIFT 35] M31-M40 HALLWAY

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