Note: This is not entirely canon. This is my interpretation of what made Kristoph begin to finally snap and go downhill despite obviously having had a very tight relationship with his brother. The fear of thunderstorms and the events around it are entirely just my own musings, but I hope you enjoy them anyway.

Rain poured down hammering thick on the windshield. It was nearly impossible to see, the wipers waved in panicked rhythm trying to provide even the tiniest bit of visibility. Traffic was nearly nonexistant this time of night, Klavier had that much to be thankful for. That and the rain that was only rain. Just hold off, his fingers prayed as they bit into the steering wheel of the jet black sports car. Hold off until I get home. Don't bring back those memories now.

A flash of lightning.

Silhouettes.

Rain.

Klavier screamed, slamming on the brakes. His hands trembled on the wheel, angry tears falling from the prosecutor's eyes. Why. The thunder always brought back the whys. The memories. Baritone drumming thundered overhead, crashing like cymbals to the cracks of lightning flaring around him. Paralysis gripped his muscles, staring with doe's eyes at the shadow of his feet on the pedals.

"Stop.. P-Please just stop..." Nails bit hard into the imitation snake skin covering the wheel, forcing his body to obey as he continued creeping through the storm. Pulling into the driveway, he threw open the door and leapt out. More thunder. More flashes. Shadows on the lawn, looming. Waiting. Coming.

"K-Kristoph.. h-help me..." His fingers scrambled for the keys on his belt, slipping and stabbing at the lock. Soft German pleas fell from his lips as the relentless rain pelted down on him. Finally the door gave way and he ran in, slamming it shut behind him. The boom echoed through the dark house, the shifting of trees casting long, ominous shadows through the grand tall windows of the parlor.

Knees buckled and Klavier spilled to the floor. Nails found his suit jacket, clinging tight. Tucking himself into a little ball, he lay there trembling and cold. Darkness. The shadows all around. The voices in his head whispering over the loud hammering of the rain. He hated thunderstorms. Hated the memories they brought back.

The night he lost his brother.

Water crawled down his arm shooting goosebumps up his skin. The feeling of the man's hands all over his virgin skin. The shadows of the trees, the silhouette overhead. The thunder, the lightning, his screams and pleas. The beatings, the torment. Klavier clung tightly to his hair, tangling it in his fingers. The softness of Kristoph against him, soaked in blood. Their father's blood. Their mother's blood. The stroke of madness in his eyes. He had never been the same. The smiles held such pain and sadness. Those eyes spoke of words Klavier would never hear. His confidant, his greatest companion in this world, was living dead.

"Why bruder? Why did you kill mama too?"

"She was just as guilty, Klavier. She didn't save you."

"Mama... Mama... Why doesn't Kristoph love me, mama.."

Closing his eyes, Klavier could almost feel the warmth of his big brother's arms. The strong fingers running through his hair and the alluring croon of his voice. The nightmares were but a dream here. In what little bit of a memory he held of Kristoph's love. Here in this solitary recollection he could seek shelter in the carefully crafted dream realm to shield him from the ferocity of reality and its storms.

Here, in this pleasant little lie, his could cry himself to sleep.