Five Years Ago - Antonio and Ludwig meet (closed, R-18)

"I see what you mean," Ludwig murmured, his expression thoughtful. "I would offer to travel with you, but I'm usually on assignments more often than not, or else I would offer to go with you."

"Think nothing of it, mi amigo." He tapped his forehead. "I'm pretty sure I'll live a long and happy life as things are going. Plenty of time to go sightseeing." Except he wasn't as sure now. Since meeting Ludwig, his visions had been much closer to the present. The same cloud over Ludwig's potential choices was affecting him. It was exciting and terrifying, for someone so used to knowing anything major that would happen to him well in advance.

That was part of the reason his business had been so successful, until he learned to read trends the way normal people do.

---

mi amigo - my friend

Ludwig blinked, looking curious. "A long and happy life? I thought that your Watcher ability caused you trouble?" His gaze sharpened. "Have you seen an end to your visions?"

"It's not that - Watchers can always see their deaths, is all, usually years in advance. I haven't seen mine yet. And anyway all the future is mutable. Knowing things makes them different...Schrödinger's cat, if you like, he was German, wasn't he?" Juan shook his head. "The parts of my 'ability' that causes me trouble are the headaches and the content of the visions..."

He shrugged. "I can't explain it very well, perhaps."

"I think I understand," Ludwig said with a nod. "Knowing that somewhere, someone is being injured or killed... I imagine it would be difficult to deal with. But do you get those kinds of visions often?"

"It used to be only once a week or so. Now it is more like once a day, and with the ones the Division asks me to see..." he shrugged. "Two or three a day. The Division rarely asks for people who are dying, though, so I don't mind so much."

Ludwig nodded slowly, looking even more thoughtful. "I'm faced with something of a dilemma," he said. He looked up at Juan's face, seeing the beautiful green eyes. "I've always been curious about a Watcher's ability -- we can shape our own futures, but being able to see a glimpse of it for myself..." He shook his head. "If I were to ask you to try to see a vision from my future, would it be rude of me to do so?"

"Not rude at all...certainly nicer than Señor Ortega," he joked. He looked at Ludwig. "To be honest, I'm not sure how much I could see. You're a person who faces a lot of choices. That always complicates things. What I tell you could mean you change everything and get something worse or better." He paused again, frowning as his forehead creased in the tickling pain of a summoned vision.

These summoned visions were a little less vivid and usually shorter. But apparently he had opened a floodgate.

Murmuring, indistinct. Wet kissing noises. Well, there was a welcome surprise. It seemed he and Ludwig would be very close soon enough. The room shifted into something else, Ludwig speaking German to a chair with the back turned toward him. Juan watched Ludwig's face, since he understood very little of the language. It was Ludwig's turn to listen, and it was clear he didn't like what he heard. His fists clenched.

Again things shifted, to an alley Ludwig was running down, following someone. He was cursing them in German, and this was the sort of thing Juan understood. The man looked terrified. Ludwig shot him.

Juan flinched. Context, he reminded himself. All the visions in the world are meaningless without context.

He managed a weak smile for Ludwig before he collapsed onto the couch. He barely noticed the discomfort.

Ludwig frowned, leaning forward with some alarm. "Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

What did he see? he found himself thinking, but he forced himself not to ask. Yes, he had requested a vision, but Juan seemed like he was in pain. The vision could wait.

"S-sienta... se sienta, por favor. Y es callado," Juan gasped, closing his eyes and leaning back. It took him a moment to remember English. "You have a cloudy future, like I say earlier. Hard to break through. But once I do that - and no, don't worry, was for a friend, I would have done it..." he shook himself.

"First, I see us. Besando - ah, kissing," Juan flushed. "Understand, I don't make up visions. It does not have to happen, but I see that it can." He rubbed his temple. "I see you speak German with some man. You do not like what he says, but, forgive me, I do no know what it was. Then - " he swallowed. "Then I see you hunting - I think, yes? And you kill, you shoot him in the head." His shoulders slumped. "I see in your face, from then, that it was not your first kill." He taps his head. "I have seen many murders, and this was one of purpose, not fear. You shoot him in the head because someone tell you to."

His English was not so good now.

"You do not like it, maybe, these orders. But you obey anyway." He bowed his head. "That is what I see." He struggled to look at Ludwig, but the light hurt. "Understand me - whatever you've done, or will do, it means nothing to me without context. I can no hate people for a split second dream of thought."

---

Sit...sit, please. And be quiet.

Besando - kissing

Ludwig's eyes widened at the explanation, as well as Juan's trouble with speaking English. Still, it seemed that the man was having trouble, and he seemed to... need something.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Ludwig repeated in a low, firm voice. "Would you like some aspirin? Do you need to lay down?"

"No, no, justo...siento. Sit," he repeated in English. "Ayyyyy, mi cabeza," he groaned, shuddering. "Please say more than 'Would you like some aspirin' after I just tell you that you kill a man." Y que tú me besas he thought but didn't say.

---

No, no, just...sit.

Owwwww, my head

And that you kiss me.

Ludwig's jaw set firmly, but he looked as though shooting someone in the head wasn't as unusual as someone might have hoped for a sixteen year old. "I'll go see if you have aspirin."

"Don't bother, I ran out earlier. Can never keep it in the house, all these headaches. Ay," he muttered again, a choked, broken little noise. "Just...if you must do something, tell me you know how to give a temple massage? Is next best to aspirin, not so good when I do for myself...ay. Shut me up before I really can't speak," he mumbled.

---

Ay - "oh" and other interjections, depending on context. In both of the above cases: "ow"

"I've never given one before, but I can try," Ludwig admitted. He carefully turned Juan around so that the Spaniard was facing away from him, and slowly eased the man backwards so that Juan was leaning back flush against Ludwig's chest. After making sure that the man was comfortable, Ludwig lifted his fingers and gently but firmly applied them to Juan's temples, massaging in slow, even circles that had the kind of patience that could last all day.

Juan did not groan in pleasure, because more noise would only mean more hurt. It was a near thing, though. He did, however, relax a great deal. A hitched sob as Ludwig touched a knot of tension, and then he went slack. He could probably have slept like this if he wasn't still so upset. Witnessing a murder always took a lot out of him, and gave him nightmares besides. He imagined it was worse to know the murderer.

Ludwig kept the massage going, slow and even, for about half-an-hour before he murmured gently in Juan's ear, "Does it help to discuss the visions?"

Part of him wondered if he wanted to talk about what happened. Juan was obviously troubled by the fact that Ludwig was going to kill someone in the future -- most likely a target. There was probably going to be an interrogation at some point, as Juan had mentioned how he'd been asking questions of someone, and he hadn't liked the person's answers.

The possibility that he and Juan would end up kissing at some point... oddly enough, that was the most notable of the things that Juan saw.

Now feeling boneless and pliable, Juan hummed in agreement. "The second part - " he chose this part to discuss because he figured it would be least unsettling to both of them. "It was a room, like an office. The man was in a big leather chair, behind an ornate desk. He was turned away from you - I didn't see his face at all. He upset you, I think. Though you were trying not to let him know. You should watch more than your words, if that's the case - people who don't look at you when they talk usually have other means of watching. Hidden cameras, most likely."

That sounded uncomfortably like Herr Eisenhauer, the head of the Division in Germany. He'd dealt with the man before, especially in his first days as a Division agent. The man seemed jovial enough, but he'd been faced with the back of the man's large leather chair more than once.

"Do you know what he said?" Ludwig asked. "Or what I said?"

"German, I'm afraid," Juan shrugged. "Something about Spain. Maybe Madrid, even. Whatever it was, you looked very unhappy. But you said that you'd do it. Except I don't really believe you meant it." He smiled wryly. "If you must lie, querido, do it with your face as well as your words, hm? Otherwise it's dangerous for you." If he rolled hs eyes up he could meet Ludwig's. "¿Comprende?"

---

querido - dear xD

¿Comprende? - understand?

Ludwig smiled a bit sheepishly. "I've never been good with lying, I'm afraid. I'll keep that in mind." He paused before asking, "Do you think you can repeat what you heard? Even if it might sound like gibberish, I could probably understand it."

Juan wet his lips. He knew a little German, just as most true Europeans knew a little of most other European languages. The sounds were not totally foreign, but they were difficult for him to make, and somewhat embarrassing, as he knew his accent was...unusual, to say the least; lisping, if one were blunt.

Still, he recounted the conversation as best he could, careful to mention who said what. He had to close his eyes as he thought, replaying the scene. Without words he understood, it was a little more difficult, but he thought he managed pretty well.

Under Juan's back, Ludwig tensed, his fingers pausing in their massage as Juan recounted more of the vision's content. When the Spaniard finished, he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"I see now why you might not want to know the future," he murmured. He dropped his hands from Juan's temples to rest on the man's shoulders.

Ludwig's warm was breath and smelled of paella still. At least Juan's head felt better now.

Juan struggled to meet Ludwig's eyes again without dislodging himself. "Why? What's the matter?"

"It appears," Ludwig said, leaning away a little to meet Juan's gaze, "that one of the decisions I make is going to have an effect on more than just myself."

He considered for a long moment before asking, "If you had a choice between living the life you have now, and living a new one -- a new identity, a new place to call home -- which would you choose?"