Winter Night's Rain
notes:
Farfarello's POV
yaoi = Schu/Farf
[- blah -] = telepathy

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The warmth of Your blood
flowed onto my hand, and my knife
the hunger going out; craving,
craving for that certain feeling,
longing to get life i wanted...
i licked the blood off my knife...
The warmth already lost
And nothing really meant for me
But the pleasure that i always crave
was lost, and the meaning, and the word...
However, i was always lost
Lost in finding pleasure in my Numbness.

- Lost in Myself [poem]
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It was so cold.

The wisps of air brushed on my pale skin, and I know I am cold, because my body is reacting over the weather. Goosebumps trailed from my arm through my neck, and even to my legs. I kept saying to myself, that it was cold, chanting it in my mind, almost feeding me with the lack of feelings I need to grasp. Like making myself learn what that feeling was.

It was cold.

The white flakes of snow drifted from the gray sky, falling down randomly, landing on the snow-covered earth, briefly staying solid, then melting permanently on the ground, and you wouldn't see what was then, but what was now. It was so confusing. Several years back, I tried to jump from a three-story building to know if I too would melt with the snow below. But when I jumped, I only heard the cracks of my bones on my back, and saw the blood coming from parts of my body.

I never became part of that white-filled earth then, and I vividly remembered that I cried because of the awful realization. All things were made by God, so why wouldn't I dissolve in God's creation? I cried to the nun who stayed with me in the hospital and asked her why the snow didn't make me their part. She replied with confused, bitter and thoughtful silence that creeped me out.

God never loved or cared for me. He never did. I despised him to the depths of my soul. He let us suffer, so I will make him suffer. It's a fair thing, after all.

And so now, I'm here on top of our so-called house, looking down at the snow accumulated on the ground. The roof by which I'm standing on was thick with snow, and my feet were slightly freezing. For the second time, I wanted to know how God hated me. So I could express that violence over Him in a higher degree. I wanted to hurt him MUCH more.
All I need now is a countdown.

I smirked to myself, and shrieked with glee. Probably Schuldich, Crawford and Nagi would awake, and see me trying to perform an extraordinary thing which would prove something hateful to God. And that would be perfect. Let them see, just make them see.

5... 4... 3... 2...

As expected, Crawford was there, with his stone-cold face. "Farfarello, what do you think you're doing? Come down, at once!" he shouted at me. I again shrieked in extreme high and let myself fall down, jumping a bit from the edge of the roof.

Everything came in a blur. The snow, the house, the sky, the ground, and even Crawford came in mixtures of white, black, cream, gray and red. And once I came in contact with the ground, hearing the cracks of my bones, the chanting of pain in my mind, though painlessness stopped me, I smiled, made a conclusion in my mind, and passing out blissfully on the cold snow.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

I woke up with emptiness. The bed was soft, and the light paint of the room exudes something that I shouldn't think of. I raised my hand, seeing unfamiliar bandages wrapping the whole length of it, even my stomach was wrapped, a slight pressure building on my middle. Sensing someone in the room, I glanced at my side and saw Schuldich - staring at my single eye and smirking, the thing that he always does. I stared blankly back at him, questioning in my mind why the hell was I in HIS room. I tore my gaze at him and watched the snow falling outside from his window.

Snow falling...

The bones on my back were probably sore and broken, and most probably my arm's bone was dislocated. Gashes were on my sides, and several bruises littered on my body.

It was a curse. I couldn't feel a single thing. By that, I couldn't hurt God more. My hate could penetrate him in heaven, but by feeling no pain, there was no major hurting to anyone. Painlessness stopped me. And He gave it to me. It was my curse, and I despise him.

He must be rolling there in the ground, laughing; or rolling on his heaven with regret that he never gave his creations proper structure.

"You're a chaos, Farf," I felt a sudden tingle in my mental shields and knew he entered it and read my thoughts. I pushed my mental shields up, which Crawford taught me years ago, and gazed at Schuldich's taunting eyes.

"I hurt God today. Hurting His childrens would do good on him," I declared to my teammate, though thinking that it was wrong. So wrong. I knew I was lying, but it doesn't matter for lying hurts God in a way. I grinned to myself, and partly to Schuldich.

The Mastermind chuckled and rested his back on the frame of his chair. "Farf, it's the day before yesterday. You've slept for two days now and I think your bones are healing. Though you won't know it yourself, neh?"

Something in me clicked. Being known as painless in Schwarz was inevitable and degrading. At least they can slash their arm and feel pain, which would assure them that they hurt Him. It was annoying, including the fact that I have slept for so many hours, so many wasted hours, which I should've used to do something productive on hurting Him. So in a fraction of a second, I buried my able fingers on Schuldich's arm, digging my nails in anger, watching him wince and curse in German.

"Damn it, Farf!" he pulled his arm from my grasp, clutching it close to his abdomen. "You fucking insane; you crap!" Blood tricked in scanty amount from his arm, and I watched it, longing for the blood, and the pain it causes. I wanted to reach out to Schuldich, to make it bleed more and feed on the curses he would scream to my ear. But he left immediately, banging the door as he went.

I'm hopeless.

Boredom crept slowly to me, and I turned to the window to release the dullness. The snow was still falling down, now in ample amounts to heighten the level of snow on the ground. I could see they were solid, and on the sight from here, the snow could hurt someone.

And God would be the main source of pain.

I gazed now at the ceiling. I hunger for something... I hunger to see PAIN. Pain, pain... I started chanting to myself. Then, the door of Schuldich's room opened, and suddenly the telepath was here on my side, smirking from ear to ear, holding a long box of something. He turned it, on the labelled side and found out that it was a box of Tarot Cards.

"I found out how I would help you hurt God. This is a box of Tarot Cards, those cards you use for predicting the future -"

"Pull Crawford here and he'll hurt God for me," I remarked monotonously. Idiot.

"Asshole. This has a different 'power'. This was used then in occultism, and occultism is against God. Get it, dimwit?" Schuldich waved the box, the arm which I grabbed a while ago was bandaged. I knew this man was overly bored that's why he was with me. He wouldn't got the mind to do something serious with a madman, excluding the times when he was bored to his wits or when Crawford grounded him from visiting the clubs.

"Let's just kill some wasted adults. Rather than doing this piece of shit," I spat at him, staring at his blue eyes emotionlessly. Then he grabbed my chin and jerked it towards him. For a while his eyes looked angry, then it became blank as he smirked. My hunger remained unnoticed.

"No, no, Farfie... Crawford grounds both of us, that damned stick-in-the-ass... No, no, certainly NO to going out today," the telepath bared his teeth as if threatening to get my life away. I continued to stare at him listlessly, his hand unfamiliarly temperate. Finally, he sighed and pulled out the cards, spreading it on the vacant mattress of his bed. "Neh, Farf... Someone's memory taught me how to use this..."

"You hurt God," my voice had a terrible edge on it. My hunger was coming close to that of a vampire's. Schuldich didn't notice this.

Schuldich began searching for the card to represent me. He was babbling as I continued to stare at his cheek, wondering how my knife could make a beautiful scar on it. How I could trace his smirk lines and draw blood from them... Blood... blood...

"Shit... I hate rummaging to the newly found memory. The Devil sounds good for you, Farf," he placed the 'The Devil' card on his extreme right, and then mixed the other cards. "My memory dictates to me that I have to use the six-card spread. This will be interesting," he grinned to himself and got six cards from the deck, spreading it around in a circle.

While he was busily arranging the cards, I debated whether to attack my teammate or not. Though the large part of me said 'attack him', and my mind was repeatedly chanting 'blood' which was overly dominating my sense. It was overpowering. The smell and the touch of blood almost intoxicates me. I need to see pain, need to feel pain...

I glanced at Schuldich. He was too innocent of what is happening. My shields were probably that strong... Better...

The other part of me reacted and I shook my head. I averted my gaze from Schuldich's cheek to the descending snow.

I felt the cold. The cold feeling on my back, the way it travels on my spine to arch my body back. The sharp pain that was brought by the cold. The snow seemed to reach for me, leading me to the light. No... Not the light... Not to God...

It was a great struggle in me, my mind was going in a chaos. Schuldich's voice was turning in a murmur, the lights in the room swirling before my eyes, the numbness that held me kept me paralyzed in this dome of my body. It was very cold... so cold... They were beckoning me... 'Come...' they said... Suddenly there was the nun, reaching for me behind the light... No... Not to Him... I was shivering now, I can feel, but I don't know if it's true... No, damn Him...

My single amber eye rolled on its socket. My body was trembling, and the angelic voices were coming in my head. Why is it when I try to be good, there had to be good things in me head? This is shit. I don't like this. I DESPISE Him. The voices were in my head again... No... No!

Mustering a low growl, I hauled myself to Schuldich, tearing his hair side by side. He was astounded, the Tarot cards flew to the floor, scattering around his feet. I was seeing the light, the nun... the snow... it was inevitable... I clawed on his back, chest, arm... wherever I can hit my nails... There were screams, but I don't know if it were Schu's or Crawford's or Nagi's... The scream was alien to my hearing, it was like a screech.

The light was dissipating into blackness.

Someone was tugging at my arm, pulling me backwards. I landed loudly on the mattress, and I saw the swirls of white and black, making me dizzy. The yells were bass pouding on my ears, and everyone around me was a blur. I noticed that the bandage on my arm was loose. Absent-mindedly, I tugged it tight, over and over...

The voices were disappearing, transferred by the yells of my teammates.

I glimpsed at the face of Schuldich, finding a cut on his temple, the blood dribbling down his chin.

Blood... beautiful blood...

I chuckled to myself.

"That bastard just attacked me, Crawford! Don't you know that?"

"That's beside the point. What I'm asking now is why are you with him and why is he in your room? He is supposed to be in his cell by now."

"Fuck! You think he can lie down in his cell, with only his cold metal floor as his bed? Damn it Crawford, you're fucking heartless."

"And you've gone soft, Schuldich. That's a startling improvement."

"Shut up, Bradley Craw -"

Someone touched my forehead, and then my eyelid, which was kept wide open. The depthless amber eye was terribly blank and I forgot to continue breathing. The blank amber eye was focused on our leader. His eyes were briefly showing concern, and annoyance. Crawford paled for a moment, and when he found a constant pulse, he breathed with relief. His cold trademark returned.

"He's all right," Crawford said to Schuldich who started gnarling his fists.

"Oh, damn it, he should've just died. Fuck that madman..."

"It's all your fault. I'll leave you now, for I don't foresee anything dreadful that can happen to you. Make sure that he's in his cell tonight," Crawford closed the door behind him and went upstairs to his room.

I let my breathing resume and sat up on the mattress. I saw Schuldich stiffening on his position, staring at my amber eye.

"Don't mess with me now," he threatened.

"I hurt God, Schuldich," I said out loud. I let my mental shields drop a while and thought, 'I'm sorry'. The Mastermind drew up a sigh, a sign of forgiveness. Then something awfully unusual happened. I didn't know what it was, or what it was called. It was alien to me, a part that I've lost from my numbness.

Schuldich cupped my face in his hands, and drew it close to his. I felt the brush of his lips onto mine, the wetness of it. I felt the heat of his hands, his lips. I knew I was cold, colder than a corpse. And I just stared at Schuldich doing his thing.

I didn't know what it was. My shields wasn't stronger than before.

He locked his lips onto mine, his eyes closed seeming to relish every movement of his tongue, his lips. I asked myself it this would hurt God...

[- Yes, it would. It would make him thrash around and scream, Farf. -] Schuldich's voice echoed in my mind. It relieved me from my fears. And delightfully, I cooperated with him, moving my lips like he did to me, extending my arms to the parts where he touched me.

It was something very unusual indeed. I can feel his hands brushing on my back, his lips trailing heat on every part that he landed on... His face was on my neck now, and I looked at him, noticing that his eyes were still closed. What is this?

[- It's pleasure to both of us, Farf. I'm giving you pleasure, and so are you. You should be feeling the excitement arousing your senses...-] he said to me telepathically, not thinking that I couldn't feel a thing.

Schuldich trailed his hands from my chest, down to that part. And I drew back. I cannot do this. I wouldn't feel anything. It's worthless. Even if I know what it was, I wouldn't fully know what it is by feeling. But that's what I lack. And if he does it, it would be nothing, nothing at all.

I can't feel, damn Him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, grinning. "Are you scared?"

I looked at the window; the snow's progress on the ground was going fast. Faster and faster, until it seemed as if the sky was weeping ice.

Cold.

I felt the cold numbness in me. It was enough reason to refuse his offer. I turned my gaze into Schuldich's eyes. His blue eyes were questioning, taunting and at the same time, pained.

Pain. I cherished those pained eyes and indulged in it. But I suffered.

I knew nothing about pain, about feelings. I'm not worth to be the thing that would fill his void. I'm nothing.

[- Nein... -] he replied to my mind. I raised my mental shields to keep him from my thoughts. His pain was great, but so as my suffering. And by our emotions, we could send God the greatest torture that He has ever received.

I hurt God by lies, sufferings, my longings. And that's too bad. I want to hurt him by my hate, my love. I don't want to hurt when my mind dictates to me that I'm hurt. It's too bad...

"Go fuck Crawford instead," I said softly, trying to let my raspy voice tone down. I tried hard to sound sorry, but my voice wouldn't cooperate. The edge of evil was still heard on my tongue, like scrapes of claws on metal. Schuldich screwed his face, perhaps trying to resurrect some kind of realization from me. And as usual, our thoughts ran parallel to each other. It never intersected. Like the snow which wouldn't let me be one of them.

Damn Him.

Schuldich made an uneasy gesture, like wanting to do something but can't. He just took a deep breath, looked at me with frustation printed in his eyes and ran a finger down my face, slightly tracing the scars. He opened his mouth, but decided that telepathy would be a better option.

[- You would regret shoving me away. You WOULD, I promise. -] he paused, stopping his finger in midair. [- But tell me if you've changed your mind... -] he grinned, took back his hand and walked away from me. He didn't close the door. He thought I would be watching him, and take back my words as I ran to him. But of course, I didn't. Broken promises hurt Him. I don't regret what I have done. Besides hurting Him, if I took his offer and extended to his pleasure, soon I would regret that. I will just suffer to see his pain as he will try to capture a madman's feelings, which doesn't exist.

I'm hopeless. Worthless, even.

I lay down on the bed and turned my head to the window. The lamp post outside made the snow glitter as it came down slowly, and in minimum amounts. The sky was dark and starless. My mentors used to teach me about the stars and the sun, and the seasons. One of them taught me that when the sky was spotless and empty, it would soon turn out something that was a reliever of its emptiness. Tears. I never forgot that, I don't know why. Probably because I'm always empty.

I took a deep breath and stood up, proceeding to the window. I pushed it open to see the snow falling down. A snowflake went down on my open palm, and it lingered for a while before melting to a small circle of water on my pale skin. I shoved the water away, cursing inside my head. The falling snow were almost like the tears of heaven: white, heavenly, crystalline, like the clouds. I cursed the heaven for this awful gift, for this numbness.

A lump formed in my throat and there was wet something welling up on my eyes.

With all my soul, I cursed Him bitterly, letting my hoarse voice release itself from the trap inside my throat.

"Damn you, God!"

Tears will never fall...

On the far part of the city, I heard rumbles. Then, the snow began to dissipate as the rain splattered lightly, and after a while it was a war of loud blows on the ground. A constant thundering rain, deafening my ears. The snow below was disturbed. The large portions of snow were holed in, caved in, melted. Frozen tears of heaven destroyed, transferred by the usual emptiness of this damned house, this damned city. It was so cold, yet it felt so nice, seeing the snow being like this after so much suffering in my mind. Rainy hell.

In this winter night's rain, I smirked and slowly, regretfully, I let it all out.

Tears will never fall, indeed, I promised that to myself.

Broken promises hurt God.

So I did.
~+Owari+~

Author's note: Reposted due to a problem. *blushie* I hope that wasn't too lame. I had a great inspiration going right inside my head about this fic, so I wrote this half of an afternoon, half of a night, half of noon, and half of a night. So that totals for about a day, eh? I hope it wasn't so weird and twisted, or even OOC. I wanted to show how Farfie suffered, so here it is. How about giving me a review to let me know what you think? It would be very splendid if you did. Thank you for reading, and please review!
finished and edited: 8:11 PM 3/2/03
Last person who reviewed: Shavica (oh nicely done. Is there a sequel?)
[thanks for the review!]