Title: The Bridge of Sighs

Author: lady xenax

Pairing: Crawford/Schuldig/Ran

Summary: Post-Gluhen. Schwarz hide in the old Palace that used to belong to the Crawford family. Oracle is losing his mind, and the German gets a new power

Rating: R

Genre: horror

Warning: AU, Gluhen spoilers

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, though I wouldn't mind having Crawford at my full disposal… for a week at least

Note: Thanks for the reviews. And I hope that you'll continue to read this story. As for the questions if it's gonna be a love triangle… Nope.

2

"I hoped our meeting was no more than a hallucination," Aya said, staring at the ceiling.

"You shouldn't have. I'm very real." Schuldig entered the ward and stopped by the window. "You're slacking, pretender."

"Hn…"

"Such an expressive answer!"

Fujimiya looked much better, not a living dead like yesterday but just a victim of starvation. The tray with the hospital food stood at the bedside table.

"One can easily kick the bucket after eating this chow," Schuldig said, sniffing suspiciously.

"I just love your manner of speaking."

"Get ready, they're checking you out."

Ran shrugged and got up from the bed. He moved slowly after narcotics and his wound still troubled him. Staggering he took a few steps and grabbed Schuldig's arm so as not to fall.

"I brought some new clothes for you," the German said unusually serious. "Are you able to cope with it by yourself?"

"Yes..." Ran breathed out.

Fujimiya declined his help. Such sloth irritated Schuldig but he said nothing and kept on watching.

"Stop staring at me."

"You wish."

Schuldig couldn't miss the chance of admiring the Japanese's slender body. Ran hadn't lost his poisonous grace, but his hands were shaking.

Ran kept silent during all the way from the hospital to the Palace. He allowed the German to walk him back to the car. He only stared into space, obeying Schuldig's orders apathetically.

The telepath peeped into the thoughts of the ex-Weiss. He didn't find anything new: the heavy load of guilt and the decision to carry his cross till the end. And the guy was angry at him because Schuldig saved him from dying.

Did you really want to die?

Yes.

I can't help you with it. Schuldig looked into Ran's eyes. Crawford needs you. He hasn't told me what for. He's so bad that I'd sell my soul for him to get better.

I had no idea that such a person like you could love anybody.

Ran groaned, clutching the first thing nearby – the German's knee. The telepath felt the wave of pain overwhelming Fujimiya now.

"Calm down," Schuldig said, touching Ran's back.

The Japanese looked at him.

"Now move your ass and open the gate."

"You mustn't exploit sick people," Ran snarled. His eyes warmed up a little.

"My kindness will kill me someday," the German grunted and got out of the car.

The air again smelled of rain. Enough! Schuldig thought. Crawford needed to work as a forecaster any way.

Aya perceived everything that was happening to him through a prism of light pain and an apathetic sense of purpose. He didn't ask himself where the hatred to the man who had tried to kill him more than once had gone.

He realized that it was different now.

"Wait for me here, I'll close the gate" Schuldig told him.

Aya nodded, following him with his gaze. Certain clumsiness appeared in the redheaded German's walk, it hadn't been so noticeable before. Could the house influence him in such a way?

He winced. During his entire life Aya often came across unusual things; such as Schuldig's telepathy or unnatural experiments of SZ.

But he had never been enveloped in such a fearsome aura like that which the Palace was emanating. Alien to a human being. Aya was ready to run away, so as not to hear the voices whispering to him about angels with dark wings.

"Schuldig!" Aya screamed, hoping the telepath would make the voices disappear.

The German was coming up to him slowly, whistling some melody and holding his hands in his pockets.

"Help me," The Japanese said, blushing. He didn't want to beg his ex-enemy. "What is this place?"

"They don't exist. The voices are not real."

Schuldig pushed him to the front door. The telepath's touch muffled the whisper of strange voices. So, this was how the German always felt…

"Sometimes," Schuldig whispered in his ear. "Sorry for the mess. You know I can't keep such a monster in order all by myself."

The floor was divided into black and whites squares. Half the lamps on the huge crystal chandelier had burned out. Dusty mirrors reflected images from another reality. Creepy cold reigned, and the sounds of music seemed to be resonating all over the place.

They were going up marble stairs covered with the remnants of a dirty red carpet.

"It was the whim of the Palace creator's wife," Schuldig remarked matter-of-factly.

Dust covered glass plafonds in a thick layer that made the light ghostly. Aya felt like he was suffocating from the lack of fresh air.

"It will be gone soon," the telepath stood on the second floor. "You'll get used to dust and voices. But the fear will remain."

"Do you mean that I'll stay with you for a long time?"

"Do you have somebody else waiting for you? Your beloved forgot about you, didn't he? How tragic…" Schuldig drawled mockingly and motioned for Aya to follow him. "Again he's listening to Brilliant Trees. It's bad."

"Who?"

"Crawford."

"Is he here?"

"Where else he should be if not in his family Palace?" Schuldig grinned, opening the door to the library.

Aya didn't have the lucky chance to face Schwarz on that fatal night when they helped Weiss, having destroyed the Rozenkreuz threesome. He saw only the telekinetic kid who stopped the bullet meant for himself.

He was too busy then.

No, he wouldn't remember him. Ever.

The light from the fireplace made Crawford's hair look like melted silver. Oracle was sitting in the armchair and looking at him with strange greed. The American's specs had slipped to the bridge of his nose, it was funny. A scar cut across his forehead from his right temple to the brow.

A love-token from Berger, the telepath explained.

Crawford's fingers were holding an empty glass. A blue shirt and white trousers suited him better than his working gear, a vanilla-colored suit.

"Glad to see you safe and sound, Ran," the American nodded by way of greeting.

"This is your room. My and Brad's bedroom is next to it. If you hear suspicious noises…" Schuldig winked, "don't worry. I can be indiscreet sometimes."

"I don't want to know." Aya winced, sitting on a king-sized bed.

Without paying attention to the aching wound he leaned back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, tracing the pattern with his gaze. Endless blue, green, black spirals intertwined with each other, forming a puzzle.

"You'll get a headache if you look at the picture too long. Don't complain." Schuldig turned around. "Supper is at seven. Till then you'd better stay here."

Aya looked at the old clock on the opposite wall. Two hours to think about his current predicament.

When he felt the first sting of pain, when that boy stabbed him, Aya was relieved for a moment. He'd gotten the chance to end everything at once, to go away, leaving a bloody trace behind.

He would find out… he would… Was the one-eyed killer right?

Did nothing make sense? His fight, his sins.

Here was he, questioning God.

Why?

He'd had the chance to stop being a killer many times before. But he never used it. One sins washed another. Should he become a Catholic then?

He was tired. To say himself for the hundredth time already – change, get rid of the old way of thinking, become a new person with old experience. Was it easy?

He thought America would help him change. No luck.

Aya didn't want to think about himself any more. It was his bad habit to deny the obvious. Instead of analyzing his own mind he began to think about Schwarz. Tiredly and without any hate. They weren't worth it. They were just people, after all.

He used to think about them as monsters. Not because of their abilities, though even they could frighten him. The actions of that foursome didn't obey the laws of ordinary logic, as if their way of thinking differed so much from humans that it could belong not just to monsters but demons with beautiful (to a human's standards) faces.

Aya had never thought about such things earlier. The most important things in his life were his sister and Weiss. All the rest seemed faceless dolls.

Would he dare to let somebody else into his world?

Speaking about logic. What the hell did Crawford need him for?

The American was evidently possessed. To be in the same room with him was unpleasant. How could the telepath stand it? They loved each other surely.

The German protected Crawford. From what? Evil spirits?

Aya grinned, so ridiculous this assumption was.

But still, what did the Palace hide?