Author's Notes: I changed from first person to third. It's just easier to write in. I'm sorry for the confusion and errors. I did not take a whole lot of time editing this beyond spell and grammatical checks. If I missed something, please notify me.
2
Everyone betrays someone at least once in their lives, twice if they're the clumsy kind. Schuldig and Crawford, though, did it for a living, out of pure malicious intent. That, and they sometimes needed the money.
Even though I was out of the asylum, I still dealt with people trying to get into my head, but on a more literal terminology. Every waking minute I was on edge, trying to keep Schuldig out and doing my best to ignore Crawford's questions about my behavior. He thought I was being vicious toward the German just because I was a vicious person.
I'm no such thing. I'm quite likable so long as a certain telepath wasn't trying to dissect my mind. For once, I wasn't the one with a fixation.
I have taken to carrying a paring knife on me at all times. It usually worked for the now common threats.
Schuldig was lounging on the sofa, watching Anthony Hopkins on the screen with his mouth partially open. There were green streaks of hair stuck to the sides of his face and it took me a moment to realize that he was crying. I had only ventured out of my room to raid the kitchen, the fruit bowl tucked against my chest and a whole apple clenched in my teeth. I didn't mean to pause, but I had before I realized it.
I pulled the apple out of my mouth and raised an eyebrow at him.
"What is that?" I asked, motioning to the television set. Schuldig turned and looked at me, aghast. He snorted as if I wasn't worth his time and turned back to the screen.
"A television."
God help me, sometimes I could kill him just for being a prick all the time. My hands were full from the fruit, but it didn't stop me from considering.
I hadn't had blood in months and I wondered how his would taste.
"You sound like a vampire," Schuldig said, looking at me over his shoulder. He patted the sofa next to him and shifted over a little. I hesitated, and then moved. The sofa soaked in my weight and I sank into it. It made me feel fat and I glanced suspiciously at the bowl of bananas, oranges and bunches of grapes.
"It's Silence of the Lambs."
I'd heard of that movie, read the reviews because it was next to some of the good articles in the post, but never thought anything more of it. The music surged out suddenly and I jumped, my eyes snapping to the screen. The main character, Hannibal, had just chopped down on a guard's nose and was making quick work of beating his partner unconscious with his own bat. I shivered.
Not to say I was queasy, that I feared murder or gore, but if I didn't have to watch it and if I wasn't doing it, I didn't much enjoy watching. Schuldig didn't think that way. He liked suffering of others with the same zeal he had when he was smashing skulls himself. Of course, he didn't like ruining his own clothes, so he resorted to guns and let me to the dirty work.
The man got off on gore.
My eyes ventured between his legs without my mind telling them to and I noticed that his pants were tented. I raised my eyebrow again and flicked my eyes up to meet his. Steady gold-blue laughed at me and I let my hand rest on the handle of the knife stuck in my belt. Schuldig was moving closer, very slowly, but I didn't let it unsettle me.
"Have a thing for crazies, Schuldig?" I sneered. He only smiled and ducked his chin slightly. His hand reached out and brushed my jaw, free of peach fuzz. "And kids?"
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"No."
He smiled again, pleased that I was pulling the knife out and brandishing it at him. He didn't stop closing in, didn't even pause.
"Are you objecting?"
I stopped to think on it, considering the consequences. Crawford didn't care who Schuldig slept with so long as he didn't give the team away. The worst thing I could think of was STDs, but Schuldig's recent tests came in negative. I was a minor, barely fifteen and he was edging close to eighteen, but wasn't there yet. No legalities to worry over.
Sodomy was totally against the Christian Church's laws. I would be banished straight to Hell for just the thoughts blossoming in my mind.
I thought of betrayal. Schuldig couldn't hurt me, but the Catholics had. My mother had. Even nuns betrayed their children, even God turned away from caring for his little pets every once in a while. Families turned against one another, but Schuldig and I, Crawford and I, we weren't family. We weren't even friends or co workers yet. They wouldn't let me go with them on a hit, so we weren't a team.
They couldn't touch me.
I lowered the knife, set it inside the bowl and dropped it all on the floor next to my feet.
"No."
Schuldig's fingers, which had been on my chin a moment ago, snaked around my head and cupped it at the base as he leaned me back on the sofa, bet me backwards over the arm and pressed flush against me.
I felt like prey and nearly kicked him off. He stopped a moment before I did and let me back up, let me have some of the reigns back.
I kissed him first; practically attacked his mouth and he met me head on. Neither of us were the submissive type, it was how we survived. His tongue forced me out of his mouth, and then pulled me back in with dizzying force. I crawled onto his lap, my knees settling around his hips as my hands clamped on either side of his head to hold it still.
Once one realized the elements of betrayal, one can avoid it.
It changed every time. I thought I'd had it nailed down, but one can't capture insignificant ideas. I was only fifteen, I didn't understand anything.
"Smoke?"
I shook my head tiredly and turned away as I heard Schuldig light the end of his cigarette and suck in. I couldn't watch him smoke, it was painfully sensual and I'd had enough just then. I was exhausted, drowsing in seconds before Schuldig settled the lighter back on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard.
I vaguely hoped he'd enjoyed me as much as he was that cigarette.
I wanted chocolate.
Schuldig finished and the hiss of the butt being smashed out was enough to wake me. He shifted off the bed and into his clothes, the rustle of fabric and buttons loud in my ears.
"Come on, get up."
I groaned and turned my head into the pillow, but Schuldig grabbed a handful of my hair and forced me to look up at him. I growled and curled my hands into lax claws.
"Why?" I asked. There was point in leaving the house or the bed. It was my bed, so he couldn't well throw me out…
"We're taking you to Esset," Schuldig explained. I came awake at the name, my eyes widened in fear.
"What?"
My head screamed betrayal, the one thing I thought they could never do to me and yet here I was; about to be sold off again to the monsters Schuldig told me stories about.
"We're going to make you part of the team, Darling," Schuldig said sweetly. I shuttered at the tone and wished my knife wasn't in the other room. I wanted to cut his tongue out, the lying snake.
"Oh hardly," Schuldig countered, "I never lie. I simply twist reality to my devices, is all."
Goddamnit, get out of my head.
"God isn't going to help you, Farfarello. He's never helped you, don't you know that? Don't you blame him every day for the things he's done to you? You can make him hurt with what you learn hurting others and yourself in Esset. You can make him bleed."
Damn the man for knowing what appealed to me, to stupid little me. I bought it all and savored every ounce of torture I anticipated.
"Kill God…" I said in a hushed whisper. Schuldig's grip was more gentle now, and he smiled down at me, kissed me.
"Yes, if you like."
I paused a few beats and broke into a smile.
"Let me get dressed."
End 2
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Author's Notes: This chapter was inspired, but not at all modeled after, by Red Dragon. I love the movie so very much and used some of my own personal reactions for the dialogue. You see, I have a thing for the crazies in movies; I'm the one who goes to horror flicks and roots for the bad guy if he suits my tastes. Hannibal Lector is one such villain.
I figure if Schu and Farfie were to have some kind of intimate relationship, which I want them to very badly to because they fit so well together, our lovely German would have to be rather like me and enjoy watching the intelligently insane murder their way into our hearts. Not to Say Crawford and Schu aren't a good pair themselves, but not in this fic. I hope you've been enjoying it and I hope you'll enjoy the rest.
To My Readers:
eva84: Why thank you Eva-dear. I'm very glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. I hope to hear more from you.