AuNo: Babylonia!

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is no' mine. Rated R-ish. AU and AU-not.

Potato. Potatoe?

The Silence in the Night

He crouched in the darkness, his single golden eye glittering madly as he listened to the heartbeats that were approaching his cell. The owners of those hearts were nervous, their pulses speeding up as they came near. He smiled, enjoying the taste of their fear as he traced the line of scar tissue that bisected the pit where his left eye once sat. Even the cold one who had shown no hesitation before was now slowing his steps, reluctant to come any closer.

They were all afraid of him.

Little rabbits hiding from the fox. He thought, the words lilting in an eerie singsong in the back of his mind. The fox smiles, the little rabbits are lost.

He threw back his head, laughter bubbling up to spill out of his mouth in a hysterical cackle.

"I will give all of you to your God!" He exclaimed. "We will see who is crying then!"

Six of the ten hearts skipped a beat, shuddering in the chests of their owners. He licked his lips, anticipating the taste of blood on his tongue. They had never succeeded in moving him without at least some of loss of life and he was determined that this time should be no different.

"Hold him." That was the voice of the cold man, standing just outside of his cell.

With a dry chuckle the madman shuffled to the door of his cell, leaning against the door with a blissful sigh.

"Did you like your gift?" He whispered, his voice rough. "I could give you the other one, if you want a matched pair."

The cold man shuddered.

"Make sure he can't move a muscle."

The madman flinched then as an unseen force grasped him, holding every part of his body still. He was lifted and hauled away from the door, giving his attackers room to enter. The snarl that tore itself from his throat was vicious enough that the power faltered momentarily, reasserting itself a moment later.

"Fools." He growled. "Cowards."

The door opened and they filed in, six powers, the cold man and three whose purpose he did not know. They were young and seemed to be watching him with mixed interest and terror as if they expected to learn something from his example.

"This is Farfarello." The cold man intoned, gesturing in his direction.

Farfarello. The madman's golden eye gleamed. So that is my name. His lips pulled back over his teeth and he hissed a warning at the gifted ones as they began to manipulate his body toward the door. I don't think so.

He stiffened, resisting their power with every ounce of muscle and bone that he possessed. One of them gasped and her force slipped from him as she backed away, her eyes rolling and wild. Encouraged, he fought even harder, trying to force his body to twist and wriggle. There was a loud ­-pop- and he felt one of his arms slip from its socket.

"As you can see, he is unable to feel any kind of physical pain." The cold man was watching him cautiously, eyes narrowed to hide his emotions. "This allows him to resist even the strongest of our telekinetics."

The powers who still held him were gasping, sweat pouring down their faces. One staggered.

"It's like trying to hold a train by yourself." He rasped, strain beginning to show around his eyes. "I can't even feel the others holding him back."

The cold one smiled.

"It makes him useful for training purposes."

There was a sickening -crunch- and the madman howled in triumph as his kneecap slid to the side. His leg was now facing the wrong direction, but he had broken the hold of another gifted one.

"Sir…" one of the remaining four murmured.

"We can't hold him much longer." Another pointed out.

The cold one sighed, and there was a great deal of disdain in it.

"Very well. Everyone move behind me."

They did so, the gifted ones slowly as if every step hurt them. When they were tucked in between the man and the door he raised his hands, allowing power to seep outward from the palms. A shield formed in front of him, sealing itself into the walls on either side of the cell.

"You may release him now."

The gifted ones sagged as they let go of the struggling man. He fell to the ground with a thud, his leg refusing to hold him up.

"Sir…"

"Just watch."

The younger ones obeyed, uncertainty in their eyes as they surveyed the madman. After a moment he reached for his dislocated shoulder. Without any emotion at all he shoved it back into place, not even wincing at the loud popping sound it made. Then he grabbed his knee in both hands, pushing and wrenching it around until it was once again in the correct place.

"Oh my god…" someone whimpered.

He smiled, rising once again to his feet. For a moment he merely stood there, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. Then he gave a fierce cry and leapt at them, his fingers outstretched to grasp whoever happened to fall beneath his hands. He hit the shield with a sound like a clap of thunder and went flying backwards into the far wall. Four people screamed, another fell to her knees, whimpering.

Disgruntled and annoyed the madman rolled to his feet to attack once again.

"He will continue to rush us until either he loses consciousness or my shield falls. He is relentless and has no fear of death." At this the cold one smiled. "You should all try to be a little more like that."

Then he turned his back on the pale man, who smiled humorlessly, the only one to know how much that move had cost the cold one.

"The lesson is over for today. We don't want him to kill himself quite yet."

It seemed that the nine others could not get out of the cell fast enough, practically tripping over one another in the effort to escape. Before he followed the cold man glanced back at his captive madman, tipping him a mocking salute.

"You might reconsider killing me just yet." He said conversationally. "I'm currently the only thing keeping you alive." Then he smiled. "Sleep well Farfarello."

He left, shutting the door behind him. It wasn't until the bolts slid back into place that the shield dropped. With a howl of pure rage the madman hurled himself at the door, slamming into it hard enough to leave a dent where he struck.

"God will cry at your death!" He cried. "But I will laugh and lick your blood from my knife!"

Then he was alone again and he went back to crouching in the corner of the room. After a moment he shivered and put his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the never-ending heartbeats and the voices that prayed ceaselessly in the back of his mind. Over their voices he imposed his own, for he had long forgotten the name his mother had given him, but now he had a new one.

I am Farfarello. Farfarello! I say that you will be silent!

Almost surprised, the voices came to a halt. He let his hands fall from his ears, relief making him sag against the wall. For a few moments all was sweet silence. Then, in a rising tide all the sound came back.

The only difference was, now the voices knew his name.

Nagi was happy. Happy. It didn't seem right to think that, even if it were true. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been able to say that about himself. Certainly not when he was struggling to survive on the streets. Even when he was still living with his parents whatever contentment or safety he'd felt had been overshadowed by his fear of their disapproval. Now, living with Tanaka-san…

"I'm going to run some errands Nagi." The older woman said, drawing his attention from the book he was reading.

"Okay Tanaka-san."

"You can stay here and read if you like. Remember, we're having dinner with the kids tonight so don't disappear or anything."

Nagi smiled. There had been a few occasions when Tanaka-san had come home to find him missing, off on a walk through the neighborhood or playing with the dogs who lived down by the docks. He was unused to having someone around who worried about him and, after the third terrified call to the police she had finally convinced him to tell her before he left the house. At the very least, she'd asked him to leave a note so that she would know he hadn't been abducted.

"I don't plan on going out this afternoon Tanaka-san." He assured her. "If I go outside I'll stay in the garden."

Tanaka-san looked relieved, her expression easing into a warm smile.

"All right then, I'll be back in a couple of hours."

He nodded and was quickly lost again in the pages of his book, eyes taking in words at an amazing rate. Tanaka-san shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes as she collected her purse and car keys. The boy had worked his way through more than half the library in the time that he'd been living with her. He would be starting school in a few days and she was interested to see what his teachers would make of him.

She was also interested to see what her own children would say that night at dinner when they met him for the first time.

"He's so quiet." That was Kyoko, her oldest speaking as she helped her mother carry dishes into the kitchen after dinner. "Does he ever talk?"

"Hardly ever." Tanaka-san admitted. "He's very well behaved, and he absolutely loves to read."

Kyoko laughed.

"Then he definitely came to the right house, didn't he mother?" She asked. Her own childhood had been spent in the little library on the second floor, surrounded by stacks of books.

Dinner had gone fairly well though, as Kyoko had pointed out, Nagi spoke very little. He answered the questions directed toward him, though he often didn't really have an answer to give. His table manners had improved greatly since the first meal he'd eaten in the Tanaka household, and he didn't jump or pull away when someone came near. Tanaka-san saw it as something as a success, a milestone that had been crossed on the way to making the boy a part of her family.

"We should probably go make sure the poor thing's doing all right." Kyoko pointed out. "Michi and Toshi can be somewhat…intense."

Tanaka-san smiled.

"Somehow, I think he's probably holding his own."

They returned to the sitting room where Michiko and Toshi were busy arguing about some undefined subject. To the surprise of Tanaka-san and Kyoko Nagi was cheerfully interjecting his own comments into the debate.

"Yes, that's true," He was saying in a conversational tone. "But from what you've said, Vergil wrote about heroes. If he wrote about men greater than gods then he couldn't be writing about real life and the common man."

"Well that's…." Michiko faltered.

"I mean you…" Toshi closed his mouth.

"I think Nagi won that argument." Tanaka-san, smiling. Her two younger children were looking at each other with slightly embarrassed expressions on their faces. Then they turned to Nagi.

"You're good kid." Michiko admitted.

"Better than good." Toshi agreed.

"Would you write my term paper for me?" Michiko inquired.

"Michi!" Tanaka-san looked horrified.

"Aw, I was only kidding mom. If he just took notes for me then I could write the paper myself…"

"All right." Tanaka-san said loudly, drowning the rest of the girl's words out with her voice. "Who wants dessert?"

Nagi laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. He ducked his head a little, unable to fully contain the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Let's see, we have all American dishes tonight, peach cobbler and chocolate fudge brownies…"

Yes, he thought as he watched Tanaka-san begin serving dessert. I am happy.

"What would you like Nagi?"

He looked up, carefully examining the two plates before gesturing silently to the peach cobbler. He took the plate, awkwardly accepting the fork (he really had no idea how to use one) and watched as the others began to enjoy their dessert.

In that moment it never would have occurred to him that, maybe, his newfound happiness would not last.

Erik was escaping.

He'd spent almost a week in preparation, stashing food, learning how to pick the lock on the door, and 'borrowing' a pair of work boots from one of the aide's lockers. Every day that Jan had found him still sitting by the window when it came time for lunch the man had a profound look of disappointment and, lately, fear. He dropped hints and suggestions with every word he spoke until he finally grasped the young man by the shoulder, leaning in close.

"You have to get out of here." He said hurriedly. "They're planning something for you and if you don't escape soon it will be too late."

Erik had required no further urgings. He kept aside most of his lunch and dinner, waited until the lights went out in the institution, and picked the lock on his door.

Now he was creeping silently down the hallway, choosing his steps carefully to avoid making a sound on the smooth tile floor. The boots were still in the pack he'd made out of his pillow case; he would put them on as soon as he gained the courtyard down below. Then he would walk to Grenleheim and find his way to the school that Jan had told him about…

"It was just like I was saying to Uri last week. These doctors don't know a darned thing about taking care of a violent patient. Their only answer is to use one sedative after another until their patients can't even form a coherent sentence."

Erik hurriedly ducked behind a forgotten food cart, holding his breath as he fought not to make a noise.

"I know what you mean. The guy down the hall, Martel Andler. He could use a sympathetic ear and fewer narcotic cocktails if you ask me."

"The one who's always ranting about the spawn of the devil?"

The two nurses moved past Erik's hiding place, continuing their discussion, oblivious that one of their patients was not in his room. He waited until they had moved through the double doors at the end of the corridor before he came out from behind the cart.

I guess stepfather really has lost his mind. He thought as he approached the double doors. Then a thought hit him and he went very still. Unless he's perfectly sane and he's just talking about me.

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. It wouldn't do to think like that when he was trying to escape. Guilt would slow him down. He could not be Schuldig here. No matter how guilty he was he had to be Erik if he were to escape.

I will not lie once I am free, Mother. Then I will call myself for what I truly am, so that everyone will know. I am Guilty. I am Schuldig.

When he reached the double doors he had to wait, crouching behind the laundry bin that was waiting for the morning shift to wheel it away. One of the orderlies would be around in a few minutes to make sure all was well. With any luck he would sneak through the door before it closed and no one would notice that he was missing until someone came with breakfast.

Before he could leave the hospital however, there was one stop that he had to make.

The double doors opened right on schedule, admitting a tall man Erik had never seen before. He darted around behind the aide, catching the door before it could fall closed and lock him in again. Then he shimmied through the opening, staying down to avoid the nurses at the station just outside.

It turned out to be easier than he'd thought; the nurses were all off on their smoking break and there was no one to avoid as he hurried toward the stair well. He'd already deemed the elevator to be far too risky; there was nowhere to run to if the doors opened and a doctor was standing on the other side.

When he had the door to the emergency stairs shut firmly behind him and he was on his way up to the next floor he allowed himself to feel the first small rush of freedom.

He was going to do this.

A floor and a hallway later, he wasn't so sure. There had been a nurse standing at the top of the stairs smoking a cigarette and talking to someone on her cellular phone. If he hadn't heard her laughing before he reached the top she would have seen him and his brief escapade into the life of a free man would have been over before it really began. As it was he'd been forced to hide just under the landing for almost twenty minutes before the woman finally finished her cigarette, hung up the phone, and went back up to her station on the fifth floor.

Thinking that would be the end of his troubles for the night Erik hurried through the doorway at the top of the stairs and had approximately three and a half seconds to stop, drop, and roll behind an abandoned gurney before the security officer on the floor turned in his direction.

Ohshitohshitohshithshitohshitohshithshitohshitohshit…

The guard walked within two feet of him and never looked down. If he had he would have seen a skinny teenage boy with narrow shoulders and fiery red hair huddled in a hospital gown at his feet, eyes screwed tightly shut.

Then, with a dull curse and a grumble the guard was off to venture through another wing of the hospital.

Erik let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, took a moment to collect himself, and slowly began making his way toward the room at the end of the hall. The room was 505C and the name in the clear plastic screen on the door read 'Andler, Margo' in neat block-type letters.

His mother was lying on her back, eyes closed, long fiery hair spread out across her pillow. She might have been asleep, if her mind had not held the stunning depth of utter silence that it did. As it was Erik could not even hear a breath, an echo, a whisper of his mother's thoughts.

He came to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his and staring silently down at her face.

Mother?

Nothing. Not even a faint hum to let him know she could hear him.

Mother it's Erik.

He listened with every part of his body, even going so far as to close his eyes and hold his breath, straining for even the slightest sound.

Still nothing.

Mother, I wanted to tell you that I'm getting out of this place. I'm going to a school nearby, where they can teach me how to control what I can do. I'll be listening for you, so when you wake up you can just call for me and I'll come to get you.

He reached out to touch her face, moving a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

I promise, I'll come back for you.

It was a while before he could bring himself to leave her side. When he did it was reluctantly, slowly, and he glanced over his shoulder several times before the door swung closed behind him and he could no longer see her.

Erik, run!

It was Jan's voice, ringing through his mind with a command that made him wince at its intensity.

Run! They know you're missing, now get the hell out of the building!

He faltered, then stumbled into a sprint that took him to the stairs in only a few moments. There were shouts coming from the floor below and he leapt back into the main hallway, glancing around frantically in an effort to find another way to get out.

The window in the game room! It leads out onto the roof of the children's wing. Hurry!

Without a word Erik obeyed Jan's voice, running to the game room. He struggled with the window, tugging ineffectually at it until it gave way with a protesting groan. The alarms were going off now, the high-pitched shrieking coming from the floor below telling him that there would be security guards searching the grounds.

He leapt out onto the roof of the children's wing, coming to a halt at the edge. His stomach lurched at the sight of the drop before him and he swallowed, glancing back over his shoulder briefly. In a few moments they would run past one of the windows and see him standing there, and all his efforts would have been in vain.

I'll come back mother. He thought fiercely as he began to climb down the side of he building, using the ledges of the windows as foot and hand rests. I promise, one day I will come back for you.

Then he was running through the courtyard, green eyes wide with fear and an exhilaration that came with being free for the first time in months.

It wasn't until he saw the sign for Nuir village that he realized he'd done it. The country hospital was far behind him and nothing lay ahead but the road to Grenleheim.

He was free.

Since the moment she'd set foot in the village of Grenleheim Yumemiru had felt that she was being watched. Not in the literal sense, though if they'd wanted to the agents at the academy could have had half a dozen people designated to follow her. It was more in the metaphysical sense. She felt that every thought, every silent prayer and breathless plea uttered in the depths of her mind was heard and recorded by someone beyond her line of sight. Her future was known, her intentions had been discussed by men in laboratory coats and her motives were common knowledge among every student and faculty member in her old school.

But maybe that was just her nerves acting up.

Whatever it was, Brad Crawford had noticed. All the way from the airport Yume continuously glanced back the way that they had come. Her shoulders were drawn and her posture rigid, as if she expected an attack at any moment. At the inn she watched the other residents with enough fear and suspicion that it made him somewhat uncomfortable. Then, when Walt called from L.A. to check up on him and ensure he was indeed coming back the sound of the phone ringing had sent his girlfriend into near hysterics.

As he climbed out of the shower of their room at the inn, he thought it was about time he found out why she was so distressed.

When he walked into the main area of the room Yume was on the phone, her hand cupped around the receiver as she spoke, her voice quickly approaching panic.

"You don't under…"

She stopped as though she'd been cut off and he watched with concern as her shoulders hunched even further.

"I am not saying 'no'." She snapped. "I'm just asking for one more day."

There was a long silence and at the end of it Yume spoke, sounding as if she were about to cry.

"I understand. I won't be late."

Then she hung up the phone and turned toward him, smiling unconvincingly as he crossed the room toward her.

"Yume, what…"

Before he could ask her what was wrong she'd flung herself into his arms, grabbing him hard enough that all the air left him in a rush. She was crying softly, her face pressed into his shoulder as she shuddered with sobs.

"Yume-"

"Please," She whispered harshly. "Please don't ask."

"But…"

"If you love me, for god's sake Bradley just don't ask!"

The desperation in her voice, the plea in her tone made him close his mouth. When she realized he wasn't going to try to speak again she let out a heavy sigh and relaxed against him.

"Just hold me for a while." She murmured.

He complied, smoothing his hand over her hair, eyes troubled. Something was obviously very wrong, but if she wouldn't tell him what it was there was nothing he could do.

"Why don't we sit?" He asked gently, pulling her toward the edge of the bed.

"No." She turned her face up to him, seeking his mouth for a kiss. "Let's not."

He didn't protest. He let her pull him down with her, trying to read the expression in her eyes as she kissed him.

Afterwards he sat by the window watching her sleep. He was restless, unable to settle down when his mind was buzzing like a hornet behind his eyes. Every part of his body was screaming at him to run, to take the first flight back to L.A. and to forget that he'd ever met a charming Japanese woman with dazzling black eyes. Every part of him, that is, except for his heart.

Love can make a person do foolish things. It can cause them to abandon their family, to betray their friends or destroy their career. Sometimes people steal for it, kill for it, die for it.

Bradley Crawford was no fool. For all that he was still, for the most part, an innocent, he knew that something terrible was going to happen. Yumemiru felt guilty about something, and she was terrified that they were going to the school in the morning. Somehow, that was the root of it.

Love can make a person do foolish things. For Bradley Crawford it made him keep his peace and sit in the darkness, waiting in silence for the dawn.

Whatever was going to happen, he would not leave her now.

Next Chapter: A Blood-red Sun is Rising

Look for the update on November 16th.