Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Weiss Kreuz. never will. I sure would
love to own my own Farfie and Schu though. God, that'd be great.
Note: Okay, it seems like the people who have been reading my 'Welcome, You've Got Mail' series never knew that I had other SchuldichxFarfarello fanfics on Fanfiction.net. Yes, actually, I have other fanfics, and please, if you like them, review! I only write more because you people ask me to. *nods*
And, if you like the way I write, or just love SxF, I will be happy to write you a fanfic. Feel free to e-mail me or review with a request. Please, if you want one, give details. Don't just say, "I want a fic." ^.^;;
~
Until You Let Me Know
~
I flopped down on my bed, finally able to let my head hit the pillow in days. I hadn't slept for how long now; three days? We had gone to various meetings across America and hadn't stopped for rest until we stopped her in California. Needless to say, I had complained along the way to all of our destinations, every time I was rewarded with a snappy response from Brad. Crawford hates me. I'm absolutely convinced. Everything I do to him is wrong. The way I put things in the fridge, smoking in the house, eating his yogurt; okay, the yogurt was an accident, and an entirely different story, but it seems no matter what I do, it's always going to end up as 'wrong'. And accompanied with his cruel remarks, the days would only feel longer. It's not my fault this trip sucks. The only thing that was possibly worse than Crawford was Nagi. It almost made me realize why Brad hates me so much. All that kid did was whine! He complained about how he needed to stop at the next rest stop, and how he was hungry, and about how it was too hot. For God sake, at least I complained about petty things like the radio stations Brad had on. It's worse when somebody complains about something worth your time, because usually, it's going to be out of reach. And I thought I was bad. Still, only one thing kept me sane the entire way here.
It's funny to say that, really. After all, he's the one that's insane.
He's quiet, unlike me and Nagi, but he doesn't seem to mind us so much like Crawford. He doesn't enforce rules like he does. Actually, he was pretty quiet the entire way. I don't think he cares. When we stopped to eat, he would only mumble. He's never entered many discussions in fact; he's usually put away someplace. He was the third addition to Schwarz and I can't believe I still don't know much about him. He always looked like the stereotypical psycho; a raving lunatic until Brad assigned me the job of looking after him. Suddenly, he seemed quiet to me, collected, private.
I feel just a bit confused about him. He's never told me anything about himself the entire time I have known him. I would love to ask him things like, "What's your real name?" or, "Do you like music?" or even something simple like, "Do you have a favorite color?" I just don't know anything. And my biggest fear isn't even for my own life if I ask him these things. In breaking the silence in him it might make things better, but I fear there is a better chance it may make them worse.
What if he wants to stay silent? What if he doesn't want anyone to know what he's like?
Suddenly, he wouldn't have anything to hide anymore.
I was jarred from my deep thoughts when I heard a barely audible knock on the door. Sure, it may have sounded inaudible, but at this time of the night, nearly midnight, no one would ever knock on my door. Therefore, it sounded like somebody was pounding on it to my sensitive ears.
I hoisted myself from the bed, glancing at the clock. Midnight; I was right. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and flicked on the lamp on my nightstand. I stood, stretched and casually walked to the door. What I saw caught me totally off guard. There, in my doorway, was a bleeding Farfarello with his head drawn down. I wondered how he got out of his straight jacket until I realized that was what the blood was from; he had struggled his way out.
I stood with my jaw slightly ajar when finally he leaned against me sobbing softly into my nightshirt. I was so shocked. In sympathy I wrapped my arms around him. "Come on in," I offered. "You can tell me about it in here." I proceeded to usher him in, closing the door behind us.
I sat on the bed with him and gently stroked his hair. "Are you alright?" I asked.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face in my chest. He mumbled something; probably an answer but I couldn't understand. After a moment, he looked up at me, tears running rivers down his cheeks, and asked, "I had a nightmare. But do you really care if I'm alright?" The look on his face was so sad; pitiful. I wanted to hug him and squeeze all his pain away.
"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
"Because nobody else does," he whispered. He looked as if he was about to burst into tears again.
He was going to bury his face in my shirt again, but I brought his chin up so he looked me in the eye again. "I care."
He gaped at me and furrowed his eyebrows. "You shouldn't."
I was getting tired of his few word sentences; fast. I broke away from him for a moment and stood up. "I'll be right back," I assured him and walked to the door. I heard him whimper behind me. I turned back to him. He was sitting under my cover now, with them drawn up to his chin. "I'm just going to go get a wet face cloth. Please, don't get my sheets bloody. I just washed them."
He could hear him swallow, watched his Adam's apple go up and down. "Sorry," he whimpered. At this point I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry myself or if my nose was going to bleed. I was pretty sure though that he was turning me on. I felt just a little guilty at the moment; just a little. But hey, that's why my name is Schuldich.
I left for just a couple seconds. I ran warm water over the towel and wrung it out a couple times to make sure it would stay warm. When I returned, he was sitting in the same position, but with is arms above the sheets this time to be sure he didn't bleed anywhere. I sat down beside him again and took one of his arms and began to clean the blood from him. I wasn't about to let him bleed on me.
It registered to me finally that I should get to know him now. It seemed like a good time to do so. It may have been late, but I could still think clear enough to ask a few questions. Start small, I thought.
"Why don't you think I should care?" I asked. It was a simple question. I wanted to sound clear to him, not vague. I was worried I'd confuse him.
He shook his head. "I'm a psycho. Honest, I think I'm rational, but people like Crawford just think I'm a raving lunatic. That's number one."
I raised a perplexed eyebrow. "People like Crawford?" I laughed. "That explains it, really. Everybody's like him. Not me I hope. He's a real stiff- ass. All he wants to believe is himself, like the rest of the world; particularly Americans. So, when he thinks he's got something right, then that's the way it is. Trust me; I've been around him for four damn years now. You shouldn't pay any attention to him."
He smiled. Has he ever smiled in front of me? Has he smiled in front of anyone? I finished washing away the blood on him, and for good measure, ran the towel over his scarred face before throwing it in the laundry basket next to my bed. "You look nice. Other people probably just don't want to open their eyes to who you really are."
"What I really am? You mean the anti-Christ freak, right? And that, Schuldich, is number two." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Everybody takes just one look at me and assumes something different. The only reason why I'd chop them up like I do is because of that. It's all because of what they assume!" I could see all the hurt his single amber eye reflected. I ran my hand down his cheek to catch a falling tear.
"As I said, Farf, pay no attention. That's got nothing to do with it. If someone sees something different, they mock it. Nobody likes differences. When you find somebody who does, I'd say to immediately become their friend." Well, it looks good so far. He understands, I think. He should trust me. After all, I'm only telling him what I read in other people's minds.
His bottom lip quivered and he whispered with some hesitation, "Then, will you be my friend?"
It was such a simple question but it tore my heart in two. His expression was one of hope and fear. I crept into his mind and realized it was the same feelings I had earlier when I thought about him. I opened my mouth, but nothing was willing to come out. I wasn't sure of how to reply. Of course I wanted to be his friend! But the expression on his face was so heart wrenching I froze; completely consumed in it.
He turned away from me, obviously not expecting an answer after practically a minute has passed. When he stood I grabbed his by his now blood-free arm and yanked him into my own. I wasn't entirely certain of why I was hugging him now. I just felt like he needed a little something more than a friend.
I felt like I was that little something more.
I could feel him quiver against me, short tremors rocked through him. "I will. I'll be he for you, Farfarello," I promised. "I won't let anyone put you down. I promise."
He swiveled around in my embrace to look at me, and then doing something I would have never expected from him, he pressed his lips against mine. It may have been unexpected, but it was a pretty good kiss. His eyes were closed and I could tell he put his heart into it.
He hugged me and with a smiled said, "Thank you, Schuldich."
I tightened my arms around him. "I'm always here for you." I ruffled his hair gently. "I was thinking recently about how I know so much about Crawford and Nagi, but no nothing about you. You'll have to tell me more about yourself." I grinned. "You definitely have to tell me how you get out of your straightjacket. If Houdini could do it without getting blood all over him, then you could too."
He grinned back and pressed his forehead to my chest. "Yeah, I'd love to know more about you too."
I sighed. "It's almost one o'clock now. I'd hate to send you back to your cell so how about you stay in my room? I wouldn't mind it at all. In fact, I'd like the company."
"In that case," he said and reaching over and turned out the light.
I pulled the covers around us and we snuggled close. He rested his head back on my chest. It seemed to be his favorite spot on me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and sighed contently. "Schu. I think we'll get along nice."
I couldn't help smiling at his cute nickname for me. "Yeah," I whispered into the dark. "I think we will."
I learn something new everyday. It's best when that something is a person. Unlike some information I may have picked up somewhere and forgotten; a person is something I could never forget.
~
Author's Notes: Oh my sweet Lord. That was beautiful!! I love this fanfic!! In general, I love to write about Farf and Schu. So, as I said before, keep my brain in working order! Request a fanfic free of charge! Review and let me know what you think! Want a sequel? I'd do that too! Please, for God sake let me know!!!
Note: Okay, it seems like the people who have been reading my 'Welcome, You've Got Mail' series never knew that I had other SchuldichxFarfarello fanfics on Fanfiction.net. Yes, actually, I have other fanfics, and please, if you like them, review! I only write more because you people ask me to. *nods*
And, if you like the way I write, or just love SxF, I will be happy to write you a fanfic. Feel free to e-mail me or review with a request. Please, if you want one, give details. Don't just say, "I want a fic." ^.^;;
~
Until You Let Me Know
~
I flopped down on my bed, finally able to let my head hit the pillow in days. I hadn't slept for how long now; three days? We had gone to various meetings across America and hadn't stopped for rest until we stopped her in California. Needless to say, I had complained along the way to all of our destinations, every time I was rewarded with a snappy response from Brad. Crawford hates me. I'm absolutely convinced. Everything I do to him is wrong. The way I put things in the fridge, smoking in the house, eating his yogurt; okay, the yogurt was an accident, and an entirely different story, but it seems no matter what I do, it's always going to end up as 'wrong'. And accompanied with his cruel remarks, the days would only feel longer. It's not my fault this trip sucks. The only thing that was possibly worse than Crawford was Nagi. It almost made me realize why Brad hates me so much. All that kid did was whine! He complained about how he needed to stop at the next rest stop, and how he was hungry, and about how it was too hot. For God sake, at least I complained about petty things like the radio stations Brad had on. It's worse when somebody complains about something worth your time, because usually, it's going to be out of reach. And I thought I was bad. Still, only one thing kept me sane the entire way here.
It's funny to say that, really. After all, he's the one that's insane.
He's quiet, unlike me and Nagi, but he doesn't seem to mind us so much like Crawford. He doesn't enforce rules like he does. Actually, he was pretty quiet the entire way. I don't think he cares. When we stopped to eat, he would only mumble. He's never entered many discussions in fact; he's usually put away someplace. He was the third addition to Schwarz and I can't believe I still don't know much about him. He always looked like the stereotypical psycho; a raving lunatic until Brad assigned me the job of looking after him. Suddenly, he seemed quiet to me, collected, private.
I feel just a bit confused about him. He's never told me anything about himself the entire time I have known him. I would love to ask him things like, "What's your real name?" or, "Do you like music?" or even something simple like, "Do you have a favorite color?" I just don't know anything. And my biggest fear isn't even for my own life if I ask him these things. In breaking the silence in him it might make things better, but I fear there is a better chance it may make them worse.
What if he wants to stay silent? What if he doesn't want anyone to know what he's like?
Suddenly, he wouldn't have anything to hide anymore.
I was jarred from my deep thoughts when I heard a barely audible knock on the door. Sure, it may have sounded inaudible, but at this time of the night, nearly midnight, no one would ever knock on my door. Therefore, it sounded like somebody was pounding on it to my sensitive ears.
I hoisted myself from the bed, glancing at the clock. Midnight; I was right. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and flicked on the lamp on my nightstand. I stood, stretched and casually walked to the door. What I saw caught me totally off guard. There, in my doorway, was a bleeding Farfarello with his head drawn down. I wondered how he got out of his straight jacket until I realized that was what the blood was from; he had struggled his way out.
I stood with my jaw slightly ajar when finally he leaned against me sobbing softly into my nightshirt. I was so shocked. In sympathy I wrapped my arms around him. "Come on in," I offered. "You can tell me about it in here." I proceeded to usher him in, closing the door behind us.
I sat on the bed with him and gently stroked his hair. "Are you alright?" I asked.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face in my chest. He mumbled something; probably an answer but I couldn't understand. After a moment, he looked up at me, tears running rivers down his cheeks, and asked, "I had a nightmare. But do you really care if I'm alright?" The look on his face was so sad; pitiful. I wanted to hug him and squeeze all his pain away.
"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
"Because nobody else does," he whispered. He looked as if he was about to burst into tears again.
He was going to bury his face in my shirt again, but I brought his chin up so he looked me in the eye again. "I care."
He gaped at me and furrowed his eyebrows. "You shouldn't."
I was getting tired of his few word sentences; fast. I broke away from him for a moment and stood up. "I'll be right back," I assured him and walked to the door. I heard him whimper behind me. I turned back to him. He was sitting under my cover now, with them drawn up to his chin. "I'm just going to go get a wet face cloth. Please, don't get my sheets bloody. I just washed them."
He could hear him swallow, watched his Adam's apple go up and down. "Sorry," he whimpered. At this point I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry myself or if my nose was going to bleed. I was pretty sure though that he was turning me on. I felt just a little guilty at the moment; just a little. But hey, that's why my name is Schuldich.
I left for just a couple seconds. I ran warm water over the towel and wrung it out a couple times to make sure it would stay warm. When I returned, he was sitting in the same position, but with is arms above the sheets this time to be sure he didn't bleed anywhere. I sat down beside him again and took one of his arms and began to clean the blood from him. I wasn't about to let him bleed on me.
It registered to me finally that I should get to know him now. It seemed like a good time to do so. It may have been late, but I could still think clear enough to ask a few questions. Start small, I thought.
"Why don't you think I should care?" I asked. It was a simple question. I wanted to sound clear to him, not vague. I was worried I'd confuse him.
He shook his head. "I'm a psycho. Honest, I think I'm rational, but people like Crawford just think I'm a raving lunatic. That's number one."
I raised a perplexed eyebrow. "People like Crawford?" I laughed. "That explains it, really. Everybody's like him. Not me I hope. He's a real stiff- ass. All he wants to believe is himself, like the rest of the world; particularly Americans. So, when he thinks he's got something right, then that's the way it is. Trust me; I've been around him for four damn years now. You shouldn't pay any attention to him."
He smiled. Has he ever smiled in front of me? Has he smiled in front of anyone? I finished washing away the blood on him, and for good measure, ran the towel over his scarred face before throwing it in the laundry basket next to my bed. "You look nice. Other people probably just don't want to open their eyes to who you really are."
"What I really am? You mean the anti-Christ freak, right? And that, Schuldich, is number two." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Everybody takes just one look at me and assumes something different. The only reason why I'd chop them up like I do is because of that. It's all because of what they assume!" I could see all the hurt his single amber eye reflected. I ran my hand down his cheek to catch a falling tear.
"As I said, Farf, pay no attention. That's got nothing to do with it. If someone sees something different, they mock it. Nobody likes differences. When you find somebody who does, I'd say to immediately become their friend." Well, it looks good so far. He understands, I think. He should trust me. After all, I'm only telling him what I read in other people's minds.
His bottom lip quivered and he whispered with some hesitation, "Then, will you be my friend?"
It was such a simple question but it tore my heart in two. His expression was one of hope and fear. I crept into his mind and realized it was the same feelings I had earlier when I thought about him. I opened my mouth, but nothing was willing to come out. I wasn't sure of how to reply. Of course I wanted to be his friend! But the expression on his face was so heart wrenching I froze; completely consumed in it.
He turned away from me, obviously not expecting an answer after practically a minute has passed. When he stood I grabbed his by his now blood-free arm and yanked him into my own. I wasn't entirely certain of why I was hugging him now. I just felt like he needed a little something more than a friend.
I felt like I was that little something more.
I could feel him quiver against me, short tremors rocked through him. "I will. I'll be he for you, Farfarello," I promised. "I won't let anyone put you down. I promise."
He swiveled around in my embrace to look at me, and then doing something I would have never expected from him, he pressed his lips against mine. It may have been unexpected, but it was a pretty good kiss. His eyes were closed and I could tell he put his heart into it.
He hugged me and with a smiled said, "Thank you, Schuldich."
I tightened my arms around him. "I'm always here for you." I ruffled his hair gently. "I was thinking recently about how I know so much about Crawford and Nagi, but no nothing about you. You'll have to tell me more about yourself." I grinned. "You definitely have to tell me how you get out of your straightjacket. If Houdini could do it without getting blood all over him, then you could too."
He grinned back and pressed his forehead to my chest. "Yeah, I'd love to know more about you too."
I sighed. "It's almost one o'clock now. I'd hate to send you back to your cell so how about you stay in my room? I wouldn't mind it at all. In fact, I'd like the company."
"In that case," he said and reaching over and turned out the light.
I pulled the covers around us and we snuggled close. He rested his head back on my chest. It seemed to be his favorite spot on me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and sighed contently. "Schu. I think we'll get along nice."
I couldn't help smiling at his cute nickname for me. "Yeah," I whispered into the dark. "I think we will."
I learn something new everyday. It's best when that something is a person. Unlike some information I may have picked up somewhere and forgotten; a person is something I could never forget.
~
Author's Notes: Oh my sweet Lord. That was beautiful!! I love this fanfic!! In general, I love to write about Farf and Schu. So, as I said before, keep my brain in working order! Request a fanfic free of charge! Review and let me know what you think! Want a sequel? I'd do that too! Please, for God sake let me know!!!