I'm Not Going Insane: Chapter One

Alone in a room with a pretty girl.
Pretty thing, how the boys must dream of her.
Alone in a room with a pretty pretty girl.

Schuldich had a headache. He hated having a headache. But god, who wouldn't? He lived with a social recluse, a psycho, and a control freak. Well, a control freak who was good in bed, but still, a control freak none the less.

Fucking pretty girls.

"Do me a favor and keep Farfarello away from the girl today."

Nagi flicked him a look from his manga. "He's tied up. It'll be okay."

"Whatever you say, genius-boy."

"Fuck you."

"Shut your mouth. I'll have Crawdaddy wash it out with soap."

"Mmhm, if he can get near me."

"You wouldn't do anything to him." Schuldich smirked. "He scares you." Schuldich couldn't help it now. "Crawford scares little Nagi shitless."

"He does not scare me." Nagi's voice was completely even, and he kept on reading.

"Yes he does. Whenever he yells you wanna run off and cry."

Nagi looked steadily up at him. "Fine thing to say."

You were the one who tried to kill himself when Crawford wouldn't say he loved you back.

Schuldich lost some of his amusement. "You think that just because he raised you he loves you."

No. I don't think he has any feelings at all. For anyone. And if you think that because you screw him every night that it'll change anything, you're more fucked up than Farfarello.

"You boring child." Schuldich turned away from him then. "Boring and jealous."

Way more fucked up than Farfarello.

"Go back to reading your porn. I don't feel like being bored right now." Schuldich walked to the window and pressed close to it. "He's running late. He's always on time."

"I'm sure even he can't see everything."

"He's late."

"You're worried about him."

"No shit."

God loves pretty girls. God loves pretty girls. God loves pretty girls. God loves pretty girls. God loves pretty girls. Pretty girls. Pretty pretty pretty pretty girls.

"Fuck my head hurts." Schuldich pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where the hell is he?"

"Does he make it easier for you?" Nagi lifts his chin again, dropping the manga to his lap. "Crawford. Does Crawford make it easier for you?" Nagi was about as emotional as a stone on the outside. On the inside, he was as violent as any teenager. "I've noticed that you don't like him being gone for long."

Schuldich started to tap the glass rhythmically. He stopped because rhythmic things reminded him of sex, and sex always meant Crawford.

"Does he?"

"Does he what?"

"Make the world quieter for you."

Schuldich looked out into the night. He wasn't going to answer.

Sometimes I think this is too unhealthy even for you.

God fucking loves fucking pretty little fucking girls and pretty little fucking girls are what god loves and if god loves pretty fucking little girls than god can be hurt because things that can love can fucking hurt and god fucking needs to hurt and god must hurt and god must hurt and god hurts and god hurts hurt god hurt god hurt god god god god god god god god.

"Fuck!" Schudlich hit his forehead against the glass lightly. "Farfarello is going insane today."

"Doesn't he everyday?"

"No. Sometimes he's fine. Today he's not." Schuldich turns in a circle and inhales loudly. "I hate it when he doesn't tell us what's going on."

"I'm sure he has a reason." Nagi shrugged.

"You trust him too much."

"You love him. That's a bit worse than trusting him. At least I know he's trustworthy."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

He's not worthy of love. Neither are you. Or me. Or Farfarello. We should all die. Can you hear me Schuldich? We should just die. Die, die, die.

"God, not another fit of angst. Do you have any idea how boring that is? Can you at least read the porn so I'm mildly entertained?"

Where am I? Oh, god. GOD, no…. No. No, I don't want this. I don't. I don't want this. Please. I don't want to die! Oh, god, I don't want to die! Please please please god, don't let me die. I'll be good. I'll be good. Please, god, don't make me die. I don't want to die. No no no, please, no. I don't want to die .Untie me!! I wanna live. I wanna live. I wanna liiiive. Please, please let me live. Please. I'll be good. I'll be good I promise.

"Fuck, she's conscious." Schuldich threw his head back and raked his fingers through his hair. His hands were starting to shake a bit. "Fucking headaches. Fucking hate fucking headaches. What the fuck is it about a fucking headache I hurt so much? Oh! I know! That whole part where my head fucking hurts like holy hell and all I want to do is take a screw driver and shove it through my left eye. And where the hell is he?"

You act like an addict.

"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Read your fucking porn." Schuldich snapped. He turned and walked briskly to the bathroom. His hands were shaking badly now. He opened the mirrored cabinet and pulled out some painkillers. He didn't like where this was going. He knew what this meant. He didn't want it. All he wanted was for Crawford to be there, to calm him down, for all of this to end and for everyone to just all stop thinking, to go to bed, to dream their nonsense dreams. Was that so wrong?

He couldn't get the bottle open.

"Christ fucking wept." He bashed the bottle against the counter top. "Fucking child proof caps keep everyone out except for the fucking children."

Maybe it's about time you realize that you aren't the kind of person who deserves love, Schuldich. Maybe it's about time you realize you're evil.

"God damn it Nagi, if you're going to think these stupid fucking thoughts, at least be original about it!" Schuldich yelled at him. He gave up. He stalked to the living room again, where Nagi was coolly flipping through his stupid hentai manga. For one brief moment, Schuldich's heart caught. Sometimes Nagi can look like a young Crawford. Sometimes, Schuldich would forget and he'd look up, and experience a sort of dual feeling. As if he'd gone back in time, as if he were looking at Crawford at that age again, and Schuldich were worshiping him from afar.

Schuldich threw all that away. He stuck out his hand, holding the bottle. "Open it."

A sigh. "No."

"Fuck you open it. My head hurts."

"Open it yourself." I'm not your slave. You're a big boy.

"Nagi…" Schuldich's voice broke. He felt a dull throb in his head. "Just….just open it, okay?"

Nagi looked at him and arched an eyebrow.

God. God. God. God. God. God. God. God. Make GOD bleed. Make GOD bleed. Make GOD bleed. God. God. God. God. God. Make him bleeeeeed bleeeed bleeeeee eee ed make him bleeed bleed God. See fucking god. See fucking god bleed. Bleed god bleed.

Help me, god, help me.

Schuldich, you're such a child.

"Just…." He was on the verge of tears. "Open it, will you? Please?"

The lid popped off. Schuldich's head throbbed, but he felt weak just knowing that maybe it'll be over in twenty minutes. He shook the tablets out and swallowed four of them dry. He hated headaches. He really hated them. They only meant one thing.

"Why isn't Crawford here yet?"

There was no answer from Nagi.

"Ai shiteru, she thought, looking at him from afar. She was alone, and she wanted to cry…."

Schuldich laughed. "Can't you read hard porn like normal boys?"

Hahahahaaaaahahahaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaah aaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaahaaahahahahahaaaa hahahahaahaaaaaaaaahaaa ahahahaahaaa I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not. I'm not. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not I'm not I'm not. I'm not crazy. Yesterday, Nagi touched me as he put me in my cell. It was by accident. Accident. AX ee dent. The day before, Crawford touched me on the forehead. Two weeks ago, Schuldich hit me on my cheek because I spat on him. Yesterday, Nagi touched me as he put me in my cell. It was by accident. The day before….the day before….the day before….the day before…..Crawford….touched me on my forehead………….he said…he said…

Schuldich didn't want to wait twenty minutes for the pain killers to work. His head hurt, his head hurt so bad. It was horrible. The sort of headache that brought tears to your eyes. The sort of headache that made all light painful. The sort of headache that made any movement torture. The sort of headache that made no movement torture.

He tried to lay down on the couch.

"Why don't you go to bed? Crawford will be home soon."

"No."

Are you afraid of being alone?

"I'm never alone."

God. Oh, god. Please. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here….please…..

Schuldich sighed. "Nagi, why don't you go hit that girl again?"

"No."

"Please."

"No. I'm reading. You do it."

"Wuss." He pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Oh, god, my head huuurts."

"Then stop talking. I'm sure it's making it worse somehow."

Shut up, will you?

"You never do me that courtesy."

"I hate it when you make commentary on what I'm thinking."

"You're lucky I don't make commentary on all the things you've thought before. You can get very fucking hentai sometimes."

"Anyone can."

"Imagine, my shock. Crawford. Hentai thoughts about Crawford."

"It was just the one time."

"Fuck right it was just the one time. I wouldn't let you anymore than that."

"I didn't even want it. It was just a thought. Sometimes we can't help what we think."

"Weak shits. We all can help what we think. Sometimes that's the only thing we have control over."

Fine thing for a telepath to say.

Schuldich just lay there and hurt.

Are you going slowly insane, Schuldich? Without him? Is that what it is? Whenever he's gone for more than 8 hours you freak.

Schuldich sighs.

"Why do you love him?"

"Good lord, you actually said something out loud."

"Why?"

"None of your business."

Because he doesn't love you. "He doesn't love you at all. Schuldich -- what if he does this on purpose? He knows what this does to you. What if he does it on purpose?"

"No, never."

"But he sees the future. That's why he's never late. He knows when he'll be there, so he tells you. That means when he's late, it's on purpose."

"Fuck you."

Oh, god……god…..why…..

Schuldich sighs. He keeps his eyes closed as lightly as possible. When closes them too hard, he feels as though his eyes hurt worse. When he opens them, he can actually feel his pupils change shape. And it hurts. A lot. The echo effect was getting stronger. The one where he'd hear thoughts and voices almost together, but not quite in synch.

The phone rang. Schuldich's head hurt so badly he wanted to cry. He sat up and reached for the phone. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but he found he couldn't quite do it. He just sat there for a moment and blinked, before he remembered he was supposed to say something. By the time he remembered he was supposed to say something, he was beaten to it.

"Schuldich?"

"Bradley?" He nearly burst into tears, his voice wasn't doing a good job hiding it.

"You sound like hell."

"My head hurts." And he did start to cry. "Brad, my head hurts. What's wrong? Why aren't you here yet? What's going on?"

"Sssh-sh-sssssh, quiet now."

Schuldich felt ashamed. He couldn't believe he was crying.

"It's okay, baby. I'm going to be home in forty minutes. It'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Will you stay on the phone with me?"

"You're being silly now, Schuldich."

"Please…." He was crying harder. "Please. You're on the cell. You can stay on the phone with me."

"Schu-"

"Brad." He covered his eyes. He wanted to hide his face. He didn't want anyone to see his eyes. "Just a little while longer?"

"Okay."

"Thank you…..thank you….."

God's gotta pay pay pay god's gotta pay gotta fucking pay.

Oh, god, please save me.

Schuldich. You are just so….pathetic.

"Brad. I love you."

"I know."

"I do."

"Did you take any thing for your headache?"

He sniffled. "The girl's awake."

"Nagi should knock her out for you."

"He wouldn't! I asked him to, and I asked nicely, and he wouldn't. God, she's just screaming….Farfarello wants to fuck her senseless…and Nagi keeps on telling me I'm pathetic….Crawford…Crawford…Crawford….I'm not insane…am I?"

"No, baby, you're not insane." His voice sounded so patient.

"Nagi says you do this on purpose. Nagi says that you want to hurt me like this. Nagi says that you like doing this. Nagi -"

"Just stop listening to him. He's a boy. And he wouldn't understand. I'll be home in thirty-five minutes now."

Schuldich was still crying. "You promise?"

Shit, Schuldich. What's wrong with you?

"Nagi….says…."

"Stop it. Stop crying. What's wrong? What happened today?"

Schuldich suddenly felt empty. He felt ill. He stopped crying and felt hollow. He wanted to say a million different things and didn't. "Nothing."

He heard a sigh. "Schuldich….baby, you gotta talk to me."

"Nothing. Nothing happened. My head hurts."

"This isn't healthy, Schuldich. You can't do this every time I need to leave for business."

Schuldich started to cry again. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. Be better. You're strong. You've always been strong. You don't need me for every little thing that happens in your life."

"Do you love me at all?"

Silence.

The only things he loves is his morning coffee. A pressed shirt. A clean transfer of money into the bank. Pulling the trigger on an easy hit…

"I'll be home in twenty-eight minutes now."

Certianly not me hell no. And not you either, I know you're listening. He's just a cold, cold bastard.

Schuldich couldn't think of anything to say. He wanted to beg Crawford over the phone to say he loved him. He only had to say it once, ever, and he'd be happy. Happier. He was happy with this life. He enjoyed this life.

It's just that sometimes, his head hurt.

Nagi flipped a page in his manga.

"I'll be home in twenty-four minutes now. Schuldich, can I hang up the phone?"

"No."

A soft, exasperated sigh, followed by a moment of silence. "Schuldich. You're fine. You don't need me on the phone for another twenty-three minutes."

"……please…." He felt so weak. He hated being weak.

He heard a sigh on the phone. He wanted to cry. He didn't want to be a nuisance. His head hurt. His head just fucking hurt. All he wanted was for Crawford to show up and make everything better again.

"Schuldich. You need to calm down. I'll be home soon. Did you take something for your headache?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe you need a drink. Go make yourself a drink."

Schuldich stood up and his head throbbed so hard he groaned. "God, Bradley. This really fucking hurts."

"It's a tension headache, Schuldich. You just need to relax."

"I would be if you came here on time." Schuldich lashed out.

"Schuldich, stop that. I mean it now." Crawford was firm.

"Sorry for not maintaining my god damn good fucking cheer."

"Calm down."

"I love you."

"Schuldich, you really need to calm down."

"Brad…."

"Calm down."

"Fuck you, I hate you."

"Schuldich, you really have to calm down."

"I hate, damn it, do you hear that? I hate you." There was very little holding him together. And the world just kept on thinking at him. His head hurt like hell.

"Schuldich-"

Schuldich hung up the phone.

Pretty fucking girls. Pretty pretty pretty fucking girls.

"I'm not crazy. I'm not fucking crazy I'm not crazy." He gripped his hair. He leaned all his weight down, down, where it didn't feel like he needed to hold himself up anymore. His head hurt horribly.

Schuldich, you are so incredibly fucked up.

"Fuck you, Nagi!"

"I didn't say anything." I hate it when you do that.

God loves pretty girls. God loves pretty girls. Fuck the pretty girls god fucking loves so much. Fuck them.

Schuldich almost felt dizzy suddenly. He hated headaches. He hated them so damn much. He got up suddenly and went to their bedroom. Their bedroom, Crawford and Schuldich's. Home of the damn bed they made love in. Home of the damn bed they fucked in. Home of those damn suits that Crawford loved so much more than he loved people. Home of the damn tv and vcr Crawford loved so much more than he loved people.

And home of his spare gun, that he polished and oiled with such care, once every other week.

He popped the snap open on Crawford's creaky, unused holster. Crawford hated this holster. It was a gift, two years ago, on their anniversary. Crawford said he didn't like leather holsters so much as ballistic nylon and so therefore never used it.

He pulled out the gun. A revolver. Crawford's toy gun. He only pulled it out when he wanted to look tough. It was not his business gun, not the gun that he used for hits, missions, off-handed kills….. this was his "public" gun.

He walked down the stairs with the gun.

Nagi looked up. "Schuldich, what the hell are you doing?"

One lash of telepathic-fuck-you waves, and Nagi let out a scream, and fell over in a faint.

His issue wasn't really with Nagi.

He walked down the stairs, to see Farfarello and his god damn bride. The long stairs were dark, only partly lit. Crawford had quipped once that the insane don't understand light anyways, so why bother paying the electricity?

It doubled as a holding cell for whoever had pissed off their employers. It doubled as a playpen for Crawford's more sadistic interrogation techniques. He didn't really need them with Schuldich around, he did it out of love of the work. Concrete walls, you see, damper all the sound waves that a scream comes from.

And there she was. Screaming with a gag on.

I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die. I'll be good. I'll be good, oh, please god, I'll be good. I promise…I promise….I promise…….i'll be good…I'll be goooood….

Fucking pretty girls. Fucking pretty girls. Fuck all pretty girls. God fucking loves fucking pretty girls..

"Shut the fuck up already." Schuldich aimed the gun at her, and pulled the trigger. He felt the kick all the way up to his shoulder joint. He was not entirely used to firing a gun. Normally, his job was interrogation, trickery, perhaps a little mutilation. Never kills.

He turned to Farfarello.

God. God. God. God. God. God. God. God. God.

Schuldich aimed the gun. For a moment, his hands shake, for a moment, he can't quite think. For a moment, all he wanted was silence, and he didn't care who caught the bullet so long as things got quiet.

The moment passed.

He reversed the gun, and started to hit Farfarello with the grip.

"Shut up! God damn you! Shut the fuck up. Fuck you. Fuck you. You god damn fucking insane fucker. Stop thinking. Stop it. Fuck. Why don't you just stop?"

He felt the wonderful, cracking resistance of skull. Over and over again, until half of his hand went numb. Over and over again, until his breath was ragged from a damn good work out. Over and over again, until all he could think was "fuck you fuck you". Over and over again, until Farfarello stopped thinking.

And he sat down heavily. And he stared at bleeding Farfarello. And at last, the god damn house was quiet.

His head was throbbing. But at least they were fucking quiet.

He couldn't stop looking at Farfarello. With the blood, sliding down his temple. He couldn't stop watching his hair change color, or the way his lips were parted. He couldn't quite remember what Farfarello was thinking while he did it. He had the strange sensation that Farfarello was enjoying it.

Soft footsteps, slowly down the stairs.

He couldn't move his eyes away from it. He couldn't look up to see who it was. The police? Nagi? The maid?

Crawford took in what he saw. The girl with her brains open and scattered across the wall. Farfarello bleeding onto the floor. He walked over to Schuldich, who was just staring vaguely at Farfarello's unconscious body.

"Schuldich."

Schuldich turned his head to see him, but he didn't say anything.

"Schuldich, how's your headache?"

Schuldich dipped his chin, and broke eye contact. "Better."

- old story, new upload
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