Disclaimer: Schuldig, Nagi, Farfarello, and Brad Crawford belong to me not. So do Eszet (I don't intend to keep those crazy old triplets anyway), Weiss boys and any Weiss Kreuz related characters. Lovechild is inspired loosely by the name of the architect of das Jüdisches Museum, Berlin.

Blabbers: I removed this fic from separated ficcie I made some months ago... I changed the idea of making it a real fragment of the fic, like a sequel or something... because I wrote it after Chapter5: Fallen Angel (which I did consider as the end of the story then) and later after I wrote this, I wrote the continuation (not sequel) of the fic and put the Farfie and Crawfish chaps under the same umbrella of My Family, instead of uploading them into "Fragmented Pieces of My Family" ... I have removed that title and so I thought about putting Schu chapter under this umbrella as well... don't sue me... this is merely fic-organizing.... I DO NOT put multiple non-unique chapters.

Thanks to Annonymouse for beta reading the fic… try check her fics… she's cool!

Fragmented Pieces of My Family: 1. Emphatic Telepathy aka Lovechild

Nobody spoke along the way back to the apartment. The only sound that accompanied the two members of Schwarz was the joyous voice from the radio. Both were drawn in their own thoughts. Crawford who was sitting at the passenger's seat did not even look at his partner. His face set in a sulk, but Schuldig was not sure whether it was because of Nagi, or him, or just both.

What was he doing anyway? The red head didn't even know the answer. He was only following the urge that came into his mind this morning as Nagi jerked from his seat and left the apartment. It was something that suddenly rang inside his mind for a few seconds before it vanished away. Perhaps it wasn't his mind at all. Perhaps it was a mere radiation from the boy's mind that somehow left traces of wills in him.

Schuldig drew out a sigh. He noticed that Crawford didn't even bother to glance at him. The black haired man usually did. He was easily distracted with unnecessary gestures and exclamations. The man was too deeply lost in his thought, Schuldig made a note to himself.

A shudder of fear came across his mind suddenly. What if he was really going to do something to Nagi about this? What if he meant it when he said that he needed to get things straight with Nagi? What if…?

He shook his head gently, focusing himself to the traffic. Nevertheless his head did not work cooperatively with his will. It kept on going around the same subject. The cries. Those cries gave him a shudder.

"Hit the brake," a silent monotonous voice suddenly heard from the American sitting next to him. It was barely audible and Schuldig tilted his head to the man next to him with a questioning expression.

"I said, 'Hit the brake', now!" Crawford said in a demanding voice. And as Schuldig turned his face to the road again he realized that the car in front of his had stopped. Luckily the sport car stopped at time, leaving only a few millimeters distance from the one in front.

"Phew, that was close."

"Keep your thoughts on the traffic," Crawford said coldly as he turned his face from Schuldig.

"Yes. Sir!"

"And don't mock me. I'm definitely NOT in a good mood."

"You're not fun!"

Nevertheless, Schuldig decided to stop being obnoxious as a pair of hazel eyes glared at him intentionally. He sighed again. He had to take Crawford back to his office as soon as possible. It didn't really matter if the man was in his office or not, to tell you the truth, with such a high position in the party, Crawford could just come and go as he wished. But no, he's rather be seen as a workaholic in order to maintain all the make-up he had built for Eszet. It was a wise decision anyway.

He remembered a few days before as he entered Nagi's room to find a somewhat dramatic picture before him; a silhouette of a small figure sitting on the window, leaning against the sill, looking at the setting sun, with pieces of paper lying across the room. He didn't know how long he stared at the picturesque view before he decided to call the boy and asked if he had wanted him to get something to eat his way home later.

The child answered in a bored tone as he tore his look away from Schuldig and stared again at the crimson colored sky. The dusk hue made the sky colored like blood. But it only smelled of carbonmonoxyde and not the coppery smell of blood. He was also admiring the grace of nature as the light turned to black when a piece of paper made its way to his feet. He picked it up slowly and looked at the scarcely written paper.

He was about to hand the paper to the boy when something caught his eyes. "My Family", the title said. There was not much to reveal from the writings. He only knew commonly used kanji characters, but it talked about father, mother, whistling kettle and birthday gifts. It somehow tore him apart.

"An essay, I see," Schuldig stepped into the room. He kept his mind to himself, knowing that the boy's mind would be filled with many things that perhaps he was not ready to cope up with. The boy merely nodded as if he didn't care that Schuldig had came into his room or if the older man was going to mock him as always. He was not in the mood to fight back anyway.

"About your family?"

And it was answered with another nod.

Schuldig reached the window and he could now see Nagi's face from the side. His eyes stared blankly at nothing. His eyes looked empty and it seemed scary for Schuldig. Those midnight blue eyes showed no sparkle of life. The telepath raised his mind shield even more, not wanting to get carried away with any negative emotions. If anything was his weakness, it would be others' negative thoughts and feelings, though he could manage to overcome them. But not if it came from any Schwarz members. They were too emotionally connected to him.

"And what are you going to write?" he asked slowly, though he was not sure where the question came from. It was not his business anyway.

"I don't know." This time a low murmur came from the brown haired.

There was a moment of dead silent before the boy spoke again, "Do you?"

Schuldig was surprised to hear the question, but he only let out a sigh. Family? What was the meaning of family to him anyway? They were gone. They had vanished. And Schuldig had vanished from them. It didn't matter. Life continued to turn even without the existence of his family. But the word left a drop of bitter taste in his mind. He sighed again to drive away his memories. They had been locked hidden way, way on the back of his mind so that he did not need to remember. "I don't know either," he said half whispering as he turned his face away from the boy, not noticing that his hand had crushed the paper.

Don't ask anything!Schuldig hurriedly put a defense before the child questioned him even more.

I won't.the sound of his thought was so silent as if he had given up everything.

Schuldig stayed speechless. His mind was trying to construct a conversation as more than half of him wanted to do. Some part of them just wanted to run away from facing the question. Eventually the later finally gave up as he voiced, "You can only fake it. You can't tell anyone about the truth."

"And this truth consists of lies." He murmured.

Schuldig's lips formed a smirk at the boy's note. After all truth and lies are not as clearly shown as black and white. "You're right. We live in lies, but that's the only way to survive. That's the only way. If we stop living in this lie, we would not be able to live."

"Then why don't we just let ourselves die?"

A good question and it was answered as if to fool five year olds, "Because it's a sin." Those silly words built up yet again another silly question in his mind, which would make you a worse sinner, to kill yourself or to kill others? The question amused the telepath until another question heard from Nagi.

"Then why havn't Farfarello killed himself?"

"Because killing others would make you a worse sinner."

But looking back again, it might not be the right answer. Perhaps Farfarello was only too afraid to kill himself and let his suffering ended. Schuldig admitted that he was too afraid to cross the line, not knowing what he could expect from the other side. And dying hurts sooo badly.....

"You are such a soft hearted person," a voice heard from the past.

"Am I?"

"Yes you are. You understand people easily."

He felt a faint blush crept on his cheeks.

"I think you can join my peers, Lovechild."

Lovechild? An old nick-name forgotten. BANG!! There was blood everywhere, on the carpet, on the cedar table, on his school uniform, and before him was a boy sprawled on the floor, hands clutching at his chest where an open wound was pumping out thick crimson liquid.

A gun slipped out from his hand and cluttered on the floor.

"It hurts," the boy said, "Dying hurts…."

And his eyes closed shut, eventually his lips curled to form a trace of smile on his face as if he was free from everything.

You are such a soft hearted person, Lovechild. You care for others as if you can hear them….

He shook his head again, trying to push away his memories, focusing his mind on his recent problem. Why did he have to take Crawford to the school? And why did his mind keep on changing from thinking how sweet it was to see Nagi twist truth and lies in front of his audience and how he felt the same depression the boy cried inside his head. Perhaps they were not his mind at all; perhaps it was half Crawford's and half Nagi's. And where was he then? Maybe he was the one who needed to be re-adjusted.

But he wondered what Crawford was going to do to Nagi. He should not punish the boy merely because he radiated those hopes. Nagi was not yet an adult, though what he had experienced made him more mature than those of his age. Nagi had performed quite well in front of his class anyway, despite of the silent emotional gesture he made at the end of his essay. But it was alright. What would those people think if he was standing there expressionless? It would be too… inhuman…. After all, Nagi was still a child; he had not turned as ice-cold as the stoic leader. He had not turned crazy – in normal human measurement – as Farfarello. The boy had not turned… like him. Nagi was the most normal person in Schwarz. Couldn't he just keep that for a little more time?

However, Crawford was right in his own way of thinking. Schuldig could definitely understand why the oracle wanted to keep Nagi from the soft side of human being. The soul underneath the innocent look of the fifteen years old was already impure. He had tasted the feeling of killing a human. He could tear a human in just one blow of power. And he had done that. The stain of blood could not be erased, no matter how you bleach them.

And Crawford would not be so annoyed if he didn't care about the boy. He knew about that. The leader might seem to only care about the missions but it was a matter of their safety anyway. If what Nagi told the class triggered some over-curious parents and teachers to perform an investigation, Crawford would need to do his best in order to keep them quiet. It would ruin everything and put Schwarz in danger at the same time. What if Schwarz had to be disbanded because of that foolish essay? He, Crawford, and Farfarello would be alright. They could work on their own. But Nagi would be put under social care once again, or if things got worse, he could end in juvenile jail.

The thought gave him a shudder. No, that would not need to be done. He would do his best to brainwash all of the people even if it meant to be paralyzed from brain damage for all of his life. He would do anything for Nagi…. No, he would do anything for Schwarz, and Nagi was a part of it. He simply did not want to see any of his team mates fell apart.

"Brad, you're not going to do anything to Nagi, right?" Schuldig finally voiced after a long struggle inside his mind. The car had already parked on the lower basement of Crawford's so-called office.

"It's none of your concern." The American walked out of the car and shook his coat to make sure that there was no wrinkle on it.

"It is, damnit! I don't want to suffer myself, hearing his whimpers!" Schuldig was surprised to hear what came out from his mouth. But he was thankful that it was better than to tell his true reason, Crawford despised such mellow feelings.

"You're such a selfish little spoiled brat!" Crawford spat. His words were a bit too exaggerated but it was good to let out his already rising temper. "I need to get him straight for our own good. For Schwarz. And you," he stopped, nudging his index finger to the telepath's chest, "you will stay away from this matter. Is that clear?"

Schuldig froze silent. It was clear that Crawford was very annoyed with this matter. There was no doubt about it, and Schuldig did not even need to penetrate behind those hazel eyes just to know about it. It was clearly written in each of his gesture.

Looking away was the only thing that Schuldig did to answer Crawford. He spat.

Crawford straightened up his back. "And if everything fails, I know who to blame now." He walked away to a small entrance where an elevator took him to the highest level of the building where his office was.

The German telepath drew yet again another sigh as he leaned on his car. "Schei'!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------end of fragment 1

Note: as I said before, Lovechild was taken loosely from Daniel Libeskind. It happened when I was searching for a precedence for my recent project and my lecturer suggested to see the philosophy of das Jüdisches Museum, Berlin (no, I'm not going to talk about buildings here). I mused myself with the name Libeskind and turned it into Liebeskind (really, I didn't mean any harm to the name), literally translated to English as Lovechild.

More Blabbers: As for the Farfarello POV on Nagi's matter... it would need some time to think and contemplate about. Farfarello has the most difficult mind to understand.... whereas for me, Schuldig is the easiest one because he's my most fave and I tend to read more of his fics than the others. The pieces of thoughts in Crawford's head had already penetrated in me... so it's just a matter of time to wait 'till I feel that I need an escapism from the whole final project I'm currently working. These fics would keep my mind straight.... NOT!!

And how come that the nick-name Lovechild came to appear in Schu's life? Who was Lovechild anyway? Well, those are questions that would not be answered in a simple explanation. It will be explained in - I hope - a one-shot. Just wait until I can arrange everything..... But for short... have you ever seen the video of Skid Row's 18 And Life? If the answer is "yes", I think you have just deciphered what actually happened with Lovechild and his dying friend.

Enough about my extra not-so-necessarily written blabbers... it added like 400 words into the fic!!