Won't you close our eyes?


A/N: This is just as far as I've come on the fifth chapter... I'm trying, I really am, but I've gotten stuck. Have any ideas? Please tell me!
And thanks for the reviews, I love you, minna-sama! Forever!


Chapter V: [untitled]


Schuldig slept long after that. Nineteen hours, and he was still asleep. Crawford had carefully crawled into the bed to join the redhead beneath the navy covers, hoping to bring some comfort by just being there. After having exhausted all his sources, both those available and those not, he still hadn't found anything that could help him in any way. It bothered the clairvoyant. Bradley Crawford always found what he was looking for. But as it seemed, there was no solution, no way of curing the state that the mind reader was in. The only thing he could think of was to find a way to slow down the process. But the inevitable was drawing near, slow or not, and Crawford knew it, even though he didn't want to admit it. Frowning to himself, he tugged the slumbering redhead closer and buried his nose in the soft hair, forcing himself to think. Schuldig's Japanese had been heavily accented, which meant that something was missing where the knowledge had formerly been. It didn't only bother the American; it also worried him. What if Schuldig lost all knowledge of Japanese? How would anyone be able to get any information through to him? Well, Crawford had to admit that from translating the diaries he had learned some German, but he was positive that he would mispronounce every single word if he tried to say something. Perhaps the redhead would still remember his English lessons…? Brad shook the thought away. From the diaries he had learned that Schuldig had never been very fond of school, nor his teachers. With that in mind, Brad prayed he would never have to think of a way to communicate with the redhead. If there was anything called luck, then perhaps everything would just go back to normal, the telepath's condition blamed on an infection or something else, something curable.
Stroking the telepath's back absentmindedly, he tried to ignore how both ribs and spine seemed to protrude as if trying to break free from the restraint of skin. It bothered him to know that even though he had forced the telepath to have three meals a day, although less food than the others, the redhead still hadn't gained much weight.
He began to work his fingers through the red mane, carefully undoing the tangled mess little by little. The movements became automatic, the entire thing meditative. He had to think of something, anything, that could help the redhead. Even Estet's documents had stated that even though they were familiar with the syndrome, they had yet to find a way to halt or reverse its course. The few attempts that had been made had failed miserably, ending with the sufferer either becoming a vegetable or killing themselves. And although Crawford had to admit that there had been times when he would have loved nothing more but for the telepath to be hit by something large and heavy, it seemed that nothing would be the way it should be should the telepath not be a part of Schwarz anymore. He didn't want to think too much about it.
Shifting a little, he continued to weave his way through the red mass. Feelings had often bothered him, which was why he had tried not to have any. But he had found that trying to ignore them only made things worse in the end; maybe not for others but for himself. So he decided he would never quell any feelings ever again if Schuldig would only make it through okay. He suddenly realized that he had begun to hum a random melody. Almost embarrassed, he cleared his throat slightly, much like a cat ignoring that it had missed its tail, and went back to working out the tangles.
Then there was the matter of how the other two coped. Farfarello didn't seem to mind very much, while the Japanese teen was getting visibly jumpy and clumsier for reasons Brad didn't really understand. He had never really understood the ways Nagi reacted to certain situations, and this was something new to add to the long list.
Despite himself he took up humming again, this time a melody that sounded strangely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Then he remembered. It was the same as the song that Schuldig had played for him all those months ago, when the headaches had just begun. But there was something else, too. He knew that he had heard it, or at least part of it, some time before that, he just wasn't sure when.
Then it hit him. He had had a vision some time ago, that he hadn't thought too much about. But it explained the sense of déjà vu that he had had during that night in the kitchen; he had had a vision of that night happening. But in his vision, he hadn't found the diary. Uneasy, he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't flipped through the diary that night. Shaking his head, he continued to work his fingers through the thick hair, humming. It wasn't long before he was asleep.




No, this is not the entire chapter... I'm trying to think of what will happen next. I know how I want the end to be, but I need something more before it comes... Help me, ppl! Sankyuu!!