Hi there! Thanks for reading and reviewing and biz. It means a lot. ^_^

So, on with the show!

Enjoy!

12. Insanity

Crona clutched her hair tighter against her head, that familiar feeling of dread washing over her.

This happened sometimes, the madness, the lingering effects of being experimented on and tormented for years and years. From time to time, she couldn't help it. She went a little mad.

Everything was going too fast it seemed, alone on the bathroom floor. The cold white tiles were too cold, too white, too blaring and bright for her to look at. The sink ran on full-blast as did the tub faucet, both rushing like waterfalls in her ears, echoing and resonating in her head, the shhh of it sounding more like television static than anything else. She rocked as she sat against the cabinet, her voice quivering as she looked around, feeling dizzy and terrified. Her lungs felt heavy and full of nothing. She couldn't breath. She wasn't breathing.

The hyperventilating began and she clutched at her hair, pulling on the pink strands for something solid, something sturdy enough to hold her upright, from falling into a maddening abyss again.

I don't want to go crazy! she panicked. I won't go back. I won't, I won't, I won't. I betrayed them. They hate me, they hate me. And I can't even go back to Medusa.

"Crona..." a soft voice called, striking fear into the witch. Crona's rocking ceased, her eyes bugging out of her head.

"N-no..." Crona whispered, as she heard her name echo in her ear, her mother's voice hissing like the snakes that swam in the woman's body. "You're not really here. You're gone...you're gone..."

As much as she tried to convince herself, she could still see her mother's face, still twisted into that snarl. She could smell it: the blood. The blood of the people she'd killed and the souls she had devoured. She could see their blurry faces. The men, the women, the children, every one of them. The metallic scent clung to the air, pinching her nose with a desire for revenge.

"S-stay away," Crona ordered, sticking her face against her knees, covering her head. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The dead were coming back, their screams echoing.

"I'm sorry!"

The screams, her mother, the rushing water, the spattering of blood on stones, the cry of the bunny she took the life of when she was a mere child, screaming, screeching, whispers, laughter, fire raging, metal slicing, stones, spattering, mother, cackling, rushingragingwhisperingmotherwhimpercryspatterspat terspitrunningterrorterrorvengancelaughterfirewash ingrushingscreeching.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she shouted, covering her ears, wishing it would go away, wishing she could forget the dead ad their blood-spattered faces.

Screaming apologies at them got her nowhere; they were always too loud, too forceful, to hellbent to leave her be.

"I'm sorry!"

"Crona! Crona! Crona!" her mother's voice ordered, ordered her to kill, to obey, to follow.

"No!"

"Crona!"

"Go away!"

"Crona!"

"Leave! Me! Alone!"

"Crona! Crona, it's me! Kid!"

"Ah..." the small sound escaped her lips, as she looked up. The feeling of the hand on her shoulder was too real to be a vengeful face.

Worry permeated from his golden eyes as he scooted closer on the floor in front of her. "Crona, please, are you alright?"

"I...I-I-I..."

The voices had stopped, the rushing water now a mere babbling in the background. The tears began to form in her eyes, her lip quivering in fright and embarrassment.

"I-I..." she stuttered.

Without a word, he slid closer, enveloping her withdrawn body in his arms. He felt so real. His voice was so present and it didn't scream. His blood didn't splat against the pavement. His body wasn't cold or lifeless. As he held her head to his chest, she felt his heart beating in her ear, the warmth radiating off of the young reaper. His hands held her close, his thumb rubbing reassuringly.

She cried, she sobbed, hiccoughing into his neat white shirt.

Many a time, when she had begun to calm down, she tried to apologize for him finding her like this, but as she opened her mouth, the tears returned, drowning out her every word.

"K-k-k-," she began, trying to speak for the fifth time in a row, only to have it pour out in an incoherent mess.

"Sh," he shushed lightly. "It's going to be alright, Crona."

"I..."

Finally, after one more wave racked her entire body, the salty water pouring down her cheeks, she quieted down, her voice dissipating into a few stray whimpers.

Crona pulled away from Kid's chest and his fingers went to wick away the tears on her face.

"I'm s-sorry," she apologized quietly.

"What for?" he asked lightly, a tiny smile on his face. "We've handled much worse than this, haven't we?"

Her heart swelled as she nodded her head, his hand tucking a long piece of hair behind her ear.

Hesitantly, he ventured, "Would you like to talk about it?"

She thought a moment. "No," she murmured, shaking her head. "I...feel b-better."

Kid crawled to his feet, sighing lightly. "Sometimes crying it the best way to make yourself feel better." Extending a hand to the pinkette, he added, "Liz and Patti aren't home. Would you like to watch a movie?"

Sniffling, Crona nodded, tentatively reaching for his hand and allowing herself to be helped to her feet by the shinigami.

"C-can we watch a Disney m-movie?"

"Of course."

And so their relationship continues.

I JUST WANT TO WRITE SOME LOVEY-DOVEY AND/OR SMUT BIZ. ITS KILLING ME. XD

See you next time!

Peace, L.