Chapter Fourteen

Crona's POV

Timor looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, managing to simultaneously pull off a tall, somewhat lanky look while still being beefy. He had electric orange eyes, buzz-cut gray hair, and wore a white tank top, black gloves and blue jeans.

"D-doesn't Timor mean 'fear' in… Greek?" Crona asked, racking his brain. He could remember the translation from hours in the library with Maka, but not the language.

Timor flashed a surprised smile, giving Crona a short, approving nod. "Latin, actually… but yes. There are actually surprisingly few who know that." His small smile disappeared a moment later, the boy almost visibly remembering that he was supposed to be enemies with Crona. "In any case, my parents actually changed my name when I turned seven or so; it used to be Alex. Do you know why they did that?"

Crona frowned, still waiting for Ragnaroc. "Named you Alex?"

Timor blinked, the edges of his lips twitching up for the barest second before he shook his head and regained his 'intimidating' look. "No, why they changed it to a name that means fear."

"Y-You were scared of a lot?" Crona suggested hopefully, his hopes falling as Timor shook his head again.

"No, it was because that while most people fall into one of seven categories; regular people, Maisters, Weapons, Kishin Eggs, Kishin, Witches and Shinigami, I and some of my other family members are in a category never before seen or heard of. I have the unique talent of being able to literally use your fears against you." Timor lifted one hand, palm up, and made Crona jump backwards in alarm as violent red sparks crackled around the other boy's hand, falling to the ground in small explosions of scarlet. "This will probably hurt."

That was all the warning that the older teen gave before lunging towards Crona, but he still managed to duck out of Timor's reach. Crona silently thanked his mother for non-intentionally giving him the speed that he possessed, since that was the only thing that was keeping him from being forced to undergo whatever new torture that this tormentor had planned for him. He dodged the attacking hand, quickly slicing at Timor's arm with the scalpel. Crona missed and barely managed to avoid being caught as he stumbled back. He soon figured out that he was eventually going to get tagged if he stayed here much longer, there only being so many times that Crona could dodge a blow before he grew sloppy.

Crona turned and darted away, headed for the tall fence that surrounded the graveyard. He scanned the stone, looking for a gate or door, but all he could see was more and more stone. Finally, Crona's eyes spotted a small door set into the flat wall and he veered towards it, grabbing the handle and giving it a hard yank.

It refused to open, the wooden frame jiggling mockingly as Crona slammed his shoulder against it to see if it opened outward instead. Suddenly, something pressed against Crona's back, red-hot pain quickly shooting through his head as he slumped against the door, his legs turning to rubber underneath him. "That isn't actually a door; it's just a decoration that Uncle put there to irritate guests." Timor's voice was calm, his bright orange eyes almost sad as he watched Crona collapse.

Crona growled as his head throbbed in pain, feeling like it was about to burst into pieces at any second from the agonizing pressure. It didn't help as Timor continued to speak, his deep voice making Crona's head hurt even worse. "This shouldn't take all that long, if it's any consolation. You're afraid of so much that this should be over with quickly. One of the most repetitive is the fear of what could have been… Let's start with that, shall we?"

Crona's vision went red, the pain flaring to an unbearable level before disappearing completely, his sight returning to normal. He shakily got to his feet, grabbing the back of a nearby pew to steady himself. "What?"

He looked around, trying to figure out what had just happened. Crona had collapsed outside in a dark graveyard, but now he was standing in the dimly lit hall of a church.

"Maka!"

Crona spun towards Soul's voice, his relief at finding one of his friends tempered by the fear in the Weapon's cry. Crona blinked in surprise, not understanding what was going on as he saw what was happening on the other end of the building.

Maka was dodging the tip of a large black sword, the swordsman wielding it looking more and more frustrated as she managed to avoid being skewered again and again. Maka chanced a glance behind her, her face hardening in determination as she saw two large double doors. "We're getting out of here!"

She broke off from her fight to smash her shoulder into the doors, only to find that they wouldn't open. "Open up!"

"That's not going to work, you know." The swordsman spoke, his quietly smug voice tinged with insanity. He chuckled once, raising his sword. "You really should start paying attention to the things other people say."

Crona was having a major sense of déjà vu, although he was having difficulty figuring out what was causing it. He thought that it had something to do with the boy that was attacking Maka, his entire being seeming so familiar. Familiar or not, Crona wasn't about to stand for anyone attacking Maka. He darted forward to step between the two figures, wishing that Ragnaroc would hurry up and wake up.

Maka pressed against the doors, her gloved hands shaking until she tightened her grip on Soul. "Oh no…"

The familiar swordsman let out a maniacal laugh as Crona ran towards them, almost halfway across the room now. "The doors here only open one way! They open INWARDS!"

"Maka! STOP HIM NOW!" Crona jumped over the back of a pew, hurrying as fast as he could through the maze of seats.

"But Soul, if I guard, you'll die!" He ran faster as the swordsman tightened his grip on his sword, preparing to strike. Crona was only a few yards off, he was going to make it… He had to…

KerSHINGGG!

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Crona skidded to a halt beside the swordsman, his legs beginning to tremble as he beheld the horrible scene before him. "N-no, no, n-n-n-no…" He fell to his knees, feeling Raven's insane comfort washing questioningly at the entrance of his mind, a mad grin beginning to crack across his face.

"Maka, why didn't you just guard?" Soul held the limp form of his Maister, a long crimson slash splitting her lithe form nearly in two. He looked up at the boy next to Crona, hatred in his red eyes. "I'm going to kill you for this, you monster!"

Crona was still in shock, so much so that he wasn't able to move fast enough to stop the boy beside him as the swordsman tilted his head and swung his sword again. Soul gurgled wetly, one of his hands going up to the weeping scarlet grin at his throat, before he slowly slumped over Maka's body – Maister and Weapon companions even in death.

The swordsman began to laugh jerkily, his shoulders shaking with amusement, and turned just enough so that Crona could finally see his red-streaked face. He stared in horror at the unevenly cropped light lavender hair, the silver eyes that were practically dancing in madness, and the wide, wide grin that was spread across his face.

"Well done, Crona." Lady Medusa's velvet voice purred, the cold sound only in the two boys' minds. "Eat their souls, and join me out in the courtyard. There are about to be two more actors in my little show."

"Of course, Lady Medusa." The other Crona bowed slightly, then winced as Ragnaroc flowed back into his wrist and out the other Crona's back.

"It's about time, too! I'm starving!" The Weapon punched his Crona's head, the blow making the other Crona rock slightly. "Get over there and get their souls for me! HURRY UP!"

"Okay, okay." Crona watched in mute despair as his other self stumbled over to the two bodies, plunging his hand deep into their cores to yank out their soft blue souls. Crona had done this a lot before meeting Maka; regular people's' souls just appeared over their bodies after they died and Kishin Eggs' bodies disappeared after they died, leaving only their red souls, but Maister and Weapon souls took on slightly more corporeal forms inside the body of the deceased, having to be removed by hand. Ragnaroc greedily grabbed the blue orbs, gulping them both down in one bite. The Weapon stiffened, his muscled body tensing as Ragnaroc rode out his short soul high before relaxing and sliding back into Crona's back with a blissed out smile on his shiny face.

"Wh-what is this?" Crona sobbed, fingers curling painfully tight in his hair as he tried to push Raven's insanity back, determined to keep hold of his sanity until he found out what was going on. He flinched as a loud howl of pain echoed through the church hall, Spirit running over to his daughter's unmoving form.

"NO! My baby girl…"

"Spirit…" Dr. Stein set a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "I sympathize with you, but we need to take care of the Kishin Egg that did this to-"

"Shut up!"

Crona's mouth was dry, tears running down his cheeks. He stiffened and leapt to his feet as his doppelganger jumped down from the rafters in the roof, Sword Ragnaroc in hand once more.

Stein spun but wasn't able to avoid the surprise blow, the hand sparking with his soul's energy fading as the professor crumpled to the floor. Spirit didn't even look up, tears flowing down his cheeks as the Scythe cradled Maka's body, as Ragnaroc's blade ripped through his chest.

Crona growled and lunged forward, intent on killing himself with his bare hands… Then he fell to the floor, struck down by a headache so bad it felt as though his other self had just smashed Ragnaroc against his skull.

"Why is this h-h-h-happening? Why c-can't I DO anything?"

He howled as one of the worst headaches he had had yet smashed through his head, making him lose consciousness again.

Maka's POV

Just as Maka was about to go into her father's room, a hand settled on her shoulder, making her jump. "I thought it was weird for you to go out to get sandwiches instead of just making some over at Kid's. It's not cool to keep secrets from your partner, Maka." She turned to see Soul, a patient smile showing off her Weapon partner's sharp teeth. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Checking out a hunch."

Soul leaned against the wall next to her, red eyes silently encouraging her to continue. "Go on…"

She sighed and slumped back against the wall as well, making a small face. This wasn't going to be easy; telling someone else made this seem all the more real…

"You know how Crona and I weren't getting along, right?"

Soul smirked and raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Yup. I like to think that I've got a good enough memory to remember the only time since you two met that you avoided each other for an entire week."

"Well, I was mad at him because he had told me that he had seen Spirit… doing things."

Soul made a face, sticking out his tongue. "I would think that you'd be mad at your dad, not Crona. Poor guy was probably traumatized."

Maka frowned in confusion, then smacked Soul on the arm when his words clicked. "Not like that! Crona said that he had seen Papa doing weird things like changing pills in a bottle and messing with Lord Death's tea bag or something, and that he had seen Papa walking around. I didn't believe him, but now that it's between what some unnamed jerk says and what Crona says… I don't know. I came here to talk to Spirit and see what he has to say before I make my mind up on anything."

"Cool." Soul grinned jaggedly as he pushed himself off of the wall. "So that's all that you two were avoiding each other over? Gotta say, I thought it was something bigger."

"Papa possibly having poisoned Lord Death isn't big enough for you?"

"That's not what I'm saying… What I meant was is that it doesn't seem like you two to get so uptight over Crona pulling your tail, so to speak." Her partner shrugged, running a few fingers under his headband.

"Well, he also had been lying to me about he had gotten beat up. That in combination with 'falsely' accusing my dad of poisoning the headmaster…"

"How'd he actually get all those bruises? Did Ragnaroc start beating him up again?"

"No, it turns out that he's still being bullied by other students here at the Academy."

"What? I thought that you said that he'd promised to tell someone if that started up again after-"

Maka scowled, her hands tightening into balls at her sides. "I know."

"Ah." Soul shifted, probably picking up on her bad mood. "So, you want some backup in there?"

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem."

Maka steeled herself and swung the hospital door open, walking in with Soul at her back.

"Baby girl! You've finally come to check on your bedridden papa!" Maka sighed at her dad's exuberant greeting, already wishing that she could leave.

"Hello, Papa."

"Sup, Spirit?"

"So what's going on in your day?"

Maka blinked, not sure that she'd heard Spirit correctly. "What?"

"What's happening in my little angel's life?" Gooey sky blue eyes practically oozed interest in her direction, something that was as common as Crona yelling or Black Star whispering. While Spirit could be extremely overenthusiastic about seeing her, he hadn't really been curious about what she had been doing for years.

"Um… We're trying to find Crona; he's been missing for the last week."

Was it just her imagination, or had her papa just flinched?

Spirit chuckled and scratched the back of his head, sitting up in his bed. "I hope you find him, I know how close you two are."

Maka stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Aren't you two a couple?"

Maka turned bright red. "N-no! We're just friends!"

This was definitely unlike her papa… actually noticing smaller details in other people's lives… not to mention the fact that he wasn't threatening to kill Crona if he so much as laid a finger on her. Maka had lost count of the times that Spirit had roared warnings to Soul, though her partner was generally nonplussed by the older Scythe's tantrums. What was going on?

"So, what're you doing here?"

"Before he disappeared, Crona told me some weird things. I just came here to hear what your version of the last few weeks is."

Maka blinked; she could have sworn that Spirit's eyes had just flashed gold when she mentioned Crona. But that was impossible…

"Well, I got the cr- ah… the snot beat out of me, then spent the rest of the time here in bed." Spirit shrugged uncomfortably, looking up at the ceiling.

"What aren't you telling me?" Maka felt her heart beat speed up a few notches as her papa glanced at her briefly, an unusual look in his eyes, before sighing heavily and plopping back on his bed.

"Maka, I don't want you to get hurt. All I'm going to say on the matter is that it may be a good thing that Crona left when he did."

Maka felt a growl rising. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Spirit rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed again. "Please go to class and just forget about Crona, he probably just ran off."

Maka started to turn and storm off, but stopped as something under his bed caught her eye. She frowned, wondering why Spirit had a sketchpad under his mattress, then stiffened as a thought occurred to her. Maka walked back over to the side of the bed and began to pull it out, pausing in surprise as Spirit sat up sharply. "Leave that alone, Maka. That's private."

She ignored him and wrestled it free the last little bit, finding that it was in fact Crona's sketchpad. "Why do you have Crona's drawings?"

"I said that's mine. Give it back, right now."

Maka snarled, irritated that all the people around her seemed to have decided that she was a good person to lie to. She flipped the book open, displaying the various beautiful scenes held within. "I don't remember you ever being this good of an artist, papa."

Spirit closed his eyes and let out a loud, angry growl. "Why have you never listened to a word that I've ever said? All I've ever tried to do was help you, and yet you refuse to allow that." He opened his eyes and frowned at the ceiling. "Fine. That is Crona's sketch book. He dropped it here when he tried to kill me the other night. Happy?"

Maka blanched, hurt as much by Spirit's words as by the tone he held. She hadn't heard that tone since he had used it on her mother, years ago when they had gotten their divorce. Maka wavered, about to continue questioning him, but that was when her father turned and she saw his eyes. They burned golden silver, a sharp difference to their normal sky blue color. She took an involuntary step back, and watched in confusion as they quickly faded back to blue as his expression changed to one of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah…" Maka thought quickly. "It's just a shock to hear that Crona could have betrayed everyone like that. I… I think I need to go think about this." She turned and walked away as fast as she could, her heart pounding a beat in her chest. Soul hurried after her, his footsteps loud in the deserted corridor. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her elbow to make her pause.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the heck, Maka?! You don't believe Lord Death when he believes that Crona's guilty, but after one minute of talking with your dad, you're convinced of his guilt? That's not like you."

"No, it's just that now I know with absolute certainty that Papa was involved in this somehow."

Soul's earnest face filled with confusion. "Wh-what?"

"Did you see his eyes?" Maka asked, hoping that she wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"I guess, why?"

Maka frowned in frustration, knowing that if Soul had seen Spirit's eyes change color, he wouldn't have had to ask. "They changed color, Soul."

"What?"

Maka rubbed her forehead, remembering her last conversation with Crona.

Maka scowled at the pale boy, her frustration causing her to be short with him."Crona, I don't know what to tell you! The last time you lied to me, you ended up running away from the academy because you had put one of Medusa's snakes into Miss Marie's coffee. I don't want to wake up one day and find you gone again, I couldn't stand it! If you can't tell me what's going on, I really don't want to talk with you right now."

She felt bad as Crona visibly pulled into himself more and more during her lecture, but that faded slightly as he gulped and nodded. "A-alright."

She straightened, relief flooding her mind. Maka had been afraid that Crona no longer trusted her, but she was glad that she had been wrong.

"Ab-bout a week after you left is when Spirit first woke up, and Ragnaroc and I noticed that his eyes changed colors every now and then. I don't know if that has anything to do with the stuff he's been doing, but-" Crona shrugged as Maka's spirits fell, her hands clenching into fists as her temper began to rise. She really hated being lied to, especially from Crona. "A-anyway, the morning that you guys came back, D-Doctor Stein was making up some t-tea bags for Lord Death. He h-had to leave to do something, and Sp-Spirit had me go get him some aspirin, and when I c-came back in…" Crona's hands also clenched into fists, though his looked more like he was gathering together his courage than getting angry. "Sp-Spirit had done something to Lord Death's tea bags. Later on, D-Doctor Stein came back and told us that L-Lord Death wasn't feeling well."

Maka couldn't believe what she had just heard, and gave Crona an almost deadly glare as he glanced up, barely feeling a twinge as he flinched and tightened his grip on his arm. "You're blaming my dad for Lord Death's illness again?"

Maka looked up, green eyes pained. "Crona told me that Papa's eyes were changing colors just before he disappeared… I didn't believe him." She growled and slammed a fist against the closest wall. "Why couldn't I believe him?"

Soul shrugged and rested an arm on her shoulder. "I dunno, maybe because that sounds nuts if you haven't seen it? If I didn't know that you had destroyed Asura, I'd have thought that his madness had gotten to you after hearing something like that." He winked and smirked as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, fortunately having missed her slight flinch at the mention of Asura. "Anyway, what're we gonna do now? You're the 'plan' person."

Maka closed her eyes in concentration, trying to think of something that would help. The thing that they had to figure out now was how to figure out where Crona was… and that was easier said than done. It wasn't as though they could ask Spirit, the last person to have seen Crona, and Lord Death wasn't in his right mind at the moment. To tell the truth, there wasn't anything that Maka could think of that could lead them to where Crona was.

"I… I don't know what to do…"