Chapter 19: The Unholy Trinity
I must be cruel only to be kind;
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
-William ShakespeareCrawford closed the door behind him and locked it. Everything still looked the same. The furniture was just as Schwarz had left it. A bottle of Ramune, any liquid that had been in it long since dissipated, sat on the table. Nagi and Farfarello had loved the drink. Why, he couldn't guess. A magazine, one of Nagi's, gathered dust next to the bottle. The remote was in the same place. "Why is all of this still here?"
Because Schuldig kept the church open for me. He was unaware of his actions at the time, but it was not yet the time of his becoming. Our becoming. Farfarello's voice sounded distant, echoing slightly. Crawford closed his eyes to concentrate on the voice.
"Kept the church open for you?"
Aye. The house of Schwarz, the only religion that one recognizes. And yer head, the cathedral he most desired to worship in. Within that cathedral was his god. But ye never let him in, did ye, Crawford? His god shut him out, forced him to go to other churches to pray.
Trust Farfarello to think in religious metaphors. "So if I'm Schuldig's God, then what does that make you?"
I'm the pneu'ma, Crawford.(1) The Holy Spirit.
"Ridiculous," Crawford retorted.
Is it? Schuldig wanted to worship at yer altar, but ye locked the doors, barring him. No matter how they long for beautiful cathedrals, the pious must find a place to pray. So he came t' my humble church, ruined though it was. He might've eventually become my disciple, but we all know that's not the path he was meant for.
"Your path. Insanity."
Farfarello ignored him. Ye were his god, and ye shaped him and set him t' do yer will, carry out yer tenets to subjugate the world. Does that not make him God's son? All ye needed was the Holy Ghost to complete the Trinity. The pneu'ma, Crawford.
Crawford's smile was thin and his eyes were hard. "And now we have an un-Holy Trinity, is that what you're saying?"
Father, Son and the Holy Ghost, the voice came back gravely.
"Then why Schuldig? Why didn't you come to me, if I was the cathedral, the house of the Lord in this Trinity?"
What makes up a man, Crawford?
"His memories," Crawford said. "You needed your memories from Schuldig. How did you figure this out, Farfarello?"
Figure? There was no plan involved, Crawford. Just something that ye know nothin' about: faith. I believed I would live past death because it would cheat the Great Destroyer above. Schuldig raised me from the dead, as Jesus the savior raised up Lazarus. We are unnatural creatures, Crawford. We've not just gone against His order, we've turned it upside down. We are no longer His creatures.
"We never were, Farfarello."
Aye, we were. Now we're free from His yoke. We shall destroy Him and raise the new house of worship on the ruins of the old.
"Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
Aye. Ye don't believe me yet, but belief shall come. Now that everythin's understood, there leaves but one thing now, Farfarello told Crawford. Confess to me, and let me wash ye of all your sins.
"What? Murder, lying, betrayal? You already know those. You know I don't feel guilt for them and will do them again if necessary."
Oh, aye, that ye would. And those are grievous sins in the eye of God. But I speak of the sin to me, Crawford. Address how ye've wronged me. Crawford thought that, though Farfarello was insane, when he spoke he made sense in his own terrible way. Come now, the Irishman continued, sounding like a reasonable father confessor, compassionate and kind. What made that all the more obscene was that Farfarello was not mocking. He really did feel the compassion, the kindness. And he could be moved to put you out of your misery.
It's just ye, I, and the dreadful one above. Ye've never cared what He thought, despite yer lip service to me. Ye're the new God. Ye have no worries about Him anymore. Cast aside the old sins and move freely into yer new role. So admit it to me and to yerself.
Crawford took a deep breath. He didn't like this, but Farfarello was not to be denied. And maybe, just maybe, his own guilt refused to be denied anymore, either. "Hubris. I'm guilty of the sin of hubris."
Farfarello made an encouraging sound, like a teacher gently prodding a beloved pupil.
"I failed you, I failed Schwarz. I let my confidence in my ability lead to failure." The words that had been like razors for him made nice, clean, painless cuts, releasing the bad blood that boiled inside. Now he got an inkling why Farfarello cut himself.
Aye, aye, the Irishman said absently, soothingly.
"I failed, when I let Weiß take back the girl. When I didn't see the way that Weiß changed the future. Not until it was too late."
God works in mysterious ways, Farfarello murmured.
"Yes," Crawford replied. "But failure doesn't need to be absolute, Farfarello. You now know that my main goal never was to destroy your God. But our goals were irrevocably intertwined. For me to succeed, I have to follow your goal."
Oh, that ye do. But there remains one more sin that ye be needin' to confess. Ye needn't confess it to those ye've betrayed. That would be God's way. But confess it here, in the desecrated cathedral that is yer soul, this new house of the Lord. Farf sounded solemn. I will be yer father confessor for this last one.
"One more sin?"
Aye. A sin to the rest of Schwarz, to yerself. Confess, Crawford, confess!
"I-I don't know what you're talking about."
Don't lie. That goes against this church and lays another sin upon yer back. Yer doors have remained shut for a long, long time, Crawford. Now's the time to open 'em. Confess how ye feel.
"How I feel? How I feel? I feel—alone. I . . . I miss them. I miss Nagi, I miss Schuldig. I even miss you."
Farfarello's silence was appraising but not unkind. Finally he spoke. I believe you, Crawford. And ye'll never have to be alone again. I'll always be near. But it isn't Nagi and me that ye miss most, is it?
"No. No, it's not." Part of Crawford was appalled that he had just admitted something that he had denied for years. The release was too great, though, for him to regret it.
Who is it, then? Tell, Farfarello coaxed.
Here Crawford balked. He didn't want to put it into words, make it more real than it already was. "Do I have to say it? If it isn't Nagi and it isn't you—"
That is the purpose of confession, to get it out in the open.
"I miss Schuldig the most. He's the one I think of when I feel most alone, the one that I most wish was back with me." Crawford couldn't stop the rest. Hidden feelings poured out of him. "He's the one that I think of the most. Everything reminds me of Schuldig. Everything! Redheads, wine, cars, music, laughter and smirks, green coats, blue eyes, Germans, Europeans, men, even women. What I eat and drink I analyze by whether or not he'd like it; everything I see, I wish I could share with him." He clenched his fists. "And I hate you for sending him away," he said through gritted teeth.
You must burn with the fire to bring forth from the ashes, Farfarello told him solemnly. The house of Schwarz needed cleansing. The prodigals needed to wander the wilderness. Ye needed to learn to open the door to what was inside, to let others in. This was the best way. And one day, the prodigals shall return, both of them. Nagi has a bit further to go in the wilderness, but he too shall return to his cathedral.
The guilty one's time to return draws near. His trials and travails are over, as are yers. Farfarello turned supplicating. If ye hadn't been without him, would ye have ever realized what he truly meant to ye? Would ye have ever opened yer doors to let him in?
Crawford wanted to deny what Farf was saying. He was the Oracle, though. He knew what his future had held before and what it held now. "No. I wouldn't have."
Forgive me, and ye too shall be forgiven, Farfarello told him.
Crawford didn't know what to say without sounding banal, so he dipped his head and settled for an affirmative nod.
All is forgiven.
When he opened his eyes, Farfarello was gone.
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A/N:
(1)Pneu'ma: 1. the third person of the triune God, the Holy Spirit, coequal, coeternal with the Father and the Son. 2. a spirit, i.e. a simple essence, devoid of all or at least all grosser matter, and possessed of the power of knowing, desiring, deciding, and acting; a life giving spirit. 3. a human soul that has left the body. 4. a spirit higher than man but lower than God, i.e. an angel. 5. used of demons, or evil spirits, who were conceived as inhabiting the bodies of men. From: http:www. searchgodsword. org/lex/grk/view. cgi?number=4151 (you'll have to take out the spaces to make the link work-.-;;)
Thanks to:
FungiFungusRayne – I don't think that Farf would make you totally nuts, but I do think that he would influence you somewhat, especially in weaker moments.
The First Light – Thanks for telling me that you're enjoying what I wrote. As for your reviews, I've enjoyed them, and I don't think that at all, honestly.
Yanagi-sen – Thanks for your review. You'll see more of Jei here and there.
TrenchcoatMan – I'm with you on het couples that aren't canon. That edges dangerously into Mary Sue territory, a place I try to avoid, if at all possible. More OxN on the way.
Suicide.angel01 – Yay, new reviewer! Welcome aboard. Farf's not taking over to hurt Schu deliberately. He just does what comes natural to him and Schu is an innocent bystander. O.O I can't believe I put 'innocent' and 'Schu' in the same sentence.
LoneCayt – Farf in Manx's body. . . o.O Oh my. Mission deliveries sure would be different for Weiß!
Kye Syr – Thank you, thank you for your kind review. It really made my day when I read your review. Glad to see you aboard, and better a late review than no review, so don't worry about not reviewing earlier. I'm just happy you reviewed. I'm also glad that you agreed with my view of the guys. It makes me feel better about the track I'm running on with this arc.
Nony - Aya: SUFFER! SUFFER! RAHR! Schu: Oh, all right. suffers Heh. Always glad to see you about. Seems like someone's been thinkin' about Nagi a bit lately, hmm? Hee hee. You'll be a OxN shipper before you know it.
Sorry everyone for the lateness of this chapter. But yesterday was my sister's birthday, (happy birthday, brat!) and I've been busy working towards that. Among other things. Damn, I really DO need a pre-cog around. . . I wonder how much Crawford charges. More than I can afford, probably.