Title: Wondering & Waiting
Author: Heta Noitio
Rating: strong R
Pairing: (hinted FarfarelloxNagi)
Warnings: blood and disturbing themes, for it's Farf we're talking about here
Summary: Farfarello's on a simple mission with Nagi, and Nagi thinks he doesn't know some things. Farfarello, however, is being frighteningly lucid...
A/N: Farf's PoV. And just for the record, he's sick. And I'm sick because writing this was actually easy to me. The title sucks, I know. But I think this is my best work so far. My mom read it, am I an idiot or what?
xXx
I watch him when he stares at me and thinks I don't notice it. I watch the emotions flicker on his pale face: disgust, sickness, even a sort of sadness. For that, he thinks, I am driven to this like a drug addict, that somewhere in my head the real me is trapped and watches my own actions in horror. But he is wrong, I enjoy this thoroughly. And I know that in the deepest, darkest places of his soul, he wonders, too.
What would it feel like? To kill a man with your bare hands, to slice his skin with a sharp knife and lick off the blood. To hear the final screams that echo in your mind for hours after and make you grin a satisfied grin while you twist the knife in the wound. What would his hands look like when covered in colour so deep red it makes you think you'll sink into it eventually?
I put my hand over the man's mouth to silence his pained moans and finally slice his throat. The way they look at me while breathing out their last breath amuses me: like I am some angel of mercy, letting them get away from their pain. Just for the record, I am the demon who tortures them and taunts them, makes them beg for release. But tonight I won't be able to play with my prey, we're in a hurry. He's just an inconvenience on our way to our greater destination.
Crawford wants world domination. I have never understood him though I work under his command. For numerous times I have thought his ideals over and over in my head and come to only one conclusion: when you rule the world and everyone obeys you, where's the fun in that? It's more satisfying to pull the strings than to be the puppet master, to work in the background and see the results and know why when no one else does.
I slowly rise from my crouched position over the quickly cooling body and look at my partner in crime. His face is blank by now, as always. The pale-blue school uniform is spotless: with his gift it's easy to get rid of your targets without getting any blood on you.
I swipe the knifes to my pants: they were going to get cleaned soon anyway.
"Are you finished?" he asks with toneless voice. I nod and walk past him to our small car that waits for us in the shadows. The driver's seat is covered with plastic bags: Crawford must have Seen that I can never resist a little playing before I kill. I sheathe the knives, sit down and turn on the engine, waiting patiently when my younger co-worker throws up at a distance.
That's another thing I never fail to notice. He tries to muffle the sound, but I hear him nonetheless. I have known for quite a long time now that he always goes to see what I have done, if he has time. It makes me grin predatorily in the dim light of the industrial estate. He cannot keep himself away because it fascinates him too much. He also thinks I'm too lost in my own mind to notice that it takes several minutes for him to come in.
Finally I hear him slamming the door behind him when he seats himself in the backseat. "Let's go", he says with a little raspy voice and I obey, stepping on the gas and swerving away through the metal gates. I glance at him through the rearview mirror and see that he's leaning his head on the backseat and occasionally swallowing.
We drive to our current house in silence and when I park the car, he almost runs out and disappears inside. I chuckle lightly while I shut down the engine and step out of the car. The plastic bags aren't as bloody as I thought they would be and I pick one to collect the others to it. After a few minutes I wrap it up and throw to our trashcan.
The night is cool. I spend some time just watching the stars, wondering what's behind them and where does the space end. The stars are shining particularly brightly tonight: maybe it means that God Himself is paying attention to the world? He has had a one hell of a show, then.
"Had a good day, Farf?"
I turn my attention back to my surroundings and see my redheaded companion standing in the doorway. "Very good, actually", I answer and let a slow grin form on my lips. It's a never-ending game between me and Schuldig: I pretend that he couldn't fuck with my mind any moment he wants to and he pretends he isn't afraid of me sometimes. "Though I didn't have enough time to do things properly." I pull up some vivid images of the body I left behind, but unsurprisingly they're not enough to make the telepath sick.
"Certainly you didn't", he answers and laughs. His laughter is malicious, it's a pity that he isn't interested in seeing peoples blood outside their veins. "But maybe you will tomorrow. Brad says we need to question some guy who has leaked information about Estet." One fiery red eyebrow raises in question. "Interested?"
"I might be", I answer and pretend that I really am considering it. I walk past him to the house and start to climb up the stairs. Halfway there I stop and turn, finding him looking at me expectantly.
I grin a wolfish grin and get a similar one in return. "Don't mess him up too badly", I say warningly and turn to continue my walk. "I want him to scream."
Just before I enter my room, I hear Schuldig yelling "Gotcha!" and whistling to himself. He is the master of torturing people mentally as I am physically. Schuldig can pry out your deepest, most shameful secrets and throw them to your face. He can make you shoot your own mother, daughter, wife. He can even make you bite your own tongue off. He says he's done it only once, though, when it was a punishment to Estet's employee who had talked too much.
Maybe I'll see it tomorrow, then.
My room is not a cell. The door has many locks, yes, but they're only necessary when my team mates feel that I'm getting out of control. In a way, I'm almost thankful that they lock me up sometimes. It gives me time to re-arrange my thoughts when I swaying on the border of total insanity. If possible, I could be even more insane. My mental instability sometimes threatens to swallow me whole and that's not what I want.
I might be mad, but I'm no fool. If I was any more insane than now, I'd be a drooling, raving madman.
Like this I can function. Like this I'm under my own command.
Schuldig sometimes makes fun of me when I do something weird in his eyes, asking, "does that hurt God?". The only reason I haven't killed him for being irritating is that that would make God a little bit happier. It must be torture to Him, to know that there is a mere human who possesses His gift to read people's deepest thoughts.
It would be a shame to have to kill Schuldig, though. He's a great comrade and a sort of a friend, too. When I want to go out, when the growing need to kill overwhelms me and I can't control myself anymore, it's him who lets me out and looks after me. It would be inconvenient to get arrested for massacre every time it happens. But I refuse to admit that I'd be dependent on him. It's just that Crawford lets him to let me out so rarely.
I check out the papers on my desk - oh yes, these are the sketches I draw earlier, mainly of our Lord hanging on the cross - and change my clothes to a pair of white pyjama pants. My bed looks inviting but there's one thing I must do before I go to sleep.
My steps as silent as a cat's I creep out of my room and go for Nagi's door. I press my ear against the door and hear his deep breathing through the wood. I listen for some time to make sure he sleeps peacefully and then return to my own room.
Every night I go to check on him. Most of the nights he sleeps peacefully. When he doesn't, I creep to his room and hold him for a while. Usually he calms down and continues sleeping, but sometimes he just won't calm down. Then I lay down next to him and sleep with him until the sunrise. I always make sure to leave before he wakes up: I can easily imagine how furious he could be if he found me in his bed. Furious, and scared.
There was this one time... I frown when I sit on my bed and rake my fingers through my hair, annoyed since I can't be sure if I was dreaming that night or not. But if I wasn't...
There was this one time when he came to me.
I can remember I was sleeping when a knock on my door woke me up. I got up quickly, I'm always very awake at the first moment when I open my eyes. It's very foolish to laze in your bed, yawning and stretching like Schuldig does. Of course, he has his talent to check if the person on the other side of the door is a friend or not. I cannot read people's minds so I have to stay alert.
That night, however, something told me it was Nagi outside my door. Maybe it was the oh-so-polite way the telekinetic knocked. He always knocks and asks for a permission to enter your room. Thus, I got up and without any greater ceremonies opened the door. "What now, Nagi?"
He seemed to back down a little at first but soon got himself under control. "I... have some trouble with sleeping, Farfarello-kun", he said silently, refusing to look me into eye. "I hoped that I could..." It seemed to be impossible for him to finish that sentence so I answered him right away.
"It's fine with me, Nagi." I stepped aside to let him in and closed the door after him. He seemed so small in the middle of my room, small and lost. I shook my head to shake off the thoughts of how my preys often were small and scared.
Nagi turned around to look at me a little nervously while he did his best to not show it.
Hunters can always smell fear. It's like some sweet essence in the air, telling us that the pray is ready to bolt and be hunted and in the end, killed. However, I sensed that he wasn't afraid of me, but of what waited him in his dreams. "Having nightmares again?"
He looked at me sharply with his midnight blue eyes and I instantly knew I had slipped. He didn't get a guilty reaction out of me, though, if he had waited for that. "And you can drop the 'kun'", I said casually. "It's useless around me, anyway."
"Hai, Farfarello-k--." He smiled apologetically. "Sorry."
I waved my hand to dismiss every apology. It was odd how easy we were around each other when it was night. Maybe darkness and silence makes that to all people: the boundaries are forgotten and only what seems so unreal it has to be real is left. Like someone once said, "we're all black when the lights go out". It makes perfect sense to me. In many ways, actually.
Nagi lay down on my bed and pulled the covers over himself. He turned to his side and planted his back firmly against the wall, as to make sure that I couldn't get behind him. I accepted the gesture without hurt, it only proved he was a smart kid indeed. I laid myself down next to him and squirmed under the covers. "Sleep well, Nagi."
He mumbled tiredly something I couldn't quite make out and fell fast asleep. I lay awake for an hour or so, just thinking, but soon the sleep came for me, too.
In the morning I woke up alone, not a trace of another person neither in my room nor in my bed. And I knew there wasn't for I checked it many times over. I wondered then did I really dream all of it, and I still wonder.
I sigh again and give up, falling flat on my back on my bed. It doesn't really matter did it happen or did it not. But, as I shut down the lamp, I suddenly believe - or subconsciously know - that it did happen and that we both know I take care of Nagi when he is sleeping restlessly. He, however, doesn't want me to know that he knows and that he needs me.
In the darkness, I smile.
I play along with him because I really care about him. And because I know that one day he'll come with me and he'll try what it feels like and he'll like it.
:end