TITLE: Jigsaw

AUTHOR: Simply Kim

PART: Three of Six

WORD COUNT: 2,597

CHARACTER/S: Brad Crawford x Fujimiya Ran

DISCLAIMERS: By no means does the series Weiss Kreuz belong to me. All I own is the story you're about to read. If you see places and people that resemble those that and whom you know, such is mere coincidence and nothing more.

NOTE#1: I have decided not to let ailments and papers bog me down in creating pieces from the stuff that keep on popping in my brain. I need mental release, and this is the best way to do it or I'll go crazy. Anyway, just a few reminders:

1. Blah and Blah Reiterations or stresses

2. /Blah/ Flashbacks or phone/messenger conversations

3. /Blah/ Conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking

4. Blah Thoughts or random Japanese words (Most are footnoted)

NOTE#2: Thank you to Noire Sensus for all the quotes they have in their spiffy website. Much love!

NOTE#3: Please assume that the usual Glühen is not represented here. I just created my own Glühen world, thus the weirdness.

NOTE#4: This is an elaboration of the one-shot I created a long while back for the 30kisses community, so don't be surprised upon finding all thirty themes in here. This is in lieu of my finally stumbling upon the Crawford x Ran community after all those times I squirmed just to get a glimpse of something that featured my Weiss Kreuz OTP! XD

THIRD PIECE: PSYCHOSIS

"If you find yourself falling into madness – dive."

Malkavian Proverb –

He could see him clearly, watchful eyes straining to note his every move, his every fluid motion. The grace was still there, running forward, coupled with the beauty of the bloodstained katana.

"A bloodthirsty god." He murmured.

"Yep, and you've been watching over him in between our missions for a couple of years now."

Crawford gave his teammate a pointed look. "Says the person who stalks his past lovers as a pastime."

"Ouch." Schuldig responded dryly.

"Indeed." He fired back.

"What do you like about him anyway?" Schuldig did one of his newer versions of 'The Hair Flip' and snatched his monocle, peering through it as if trying to figure if it was just the graded thing or his leader had gone crazy. "Even through this I can't see anything except the old asshole, who, if I may add, seems to know how to smile now, grew his hair out and dyed it a darker and duller shade of red!"

"Schuldig, you're the one to talk." Crawford retorted wryly. "You dyed your hair green before, remember? Besides, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder."

His eyes bulged in disbelief, even larger now, he noted, than when he first saw Crawford's new look. "Oh my God, I'm sorry Farfarello, Brad – you sound like you're in love!"

Crawford didn't answer him. He had seen this coming, and he did not dodge away from it. Schuldig was someone who pried into people's businesses and he had no energy anymore to argue with him. It was pointless since he could read minds anyway... not that he could read him clearly, but they knew each other so well that it didn't need any kind of telepathic ability for the other to figure him out.

Let him believe what he wants to believe.

He could feel Farfarello's consciousness stirring deep within the recesses of his brain. He was living there for the meantime, while his body was in coma. Two years and he hadn't the ability to wake up. They had been communicating, they had been killing people together.

They were of one mind when it came to the moments when heads literally rolled and screams reverberated along with suffering groans that came along with eternal pain and anguish. He calmed Farfarello down by drawing other minds in his dreamscape, and it was sweeter when the ones being tortured were members of the organisation... such gratification, provided by someone who understood.

/Crawford... /

It was Farfarello.

/Is that your precious Weiß kitty? Is it true that he tastes like candy/

He stiffened, taking note of the teasing tone. His gaze swerved once more to Schuldig, who wore a self-satisfied grin on his face. He scowled. /Farfarello... have you been talking to this guy again/

/We always talk. /

Irritated, he snatched his monocle away from Schuldig's grasping fingers and slipped it in his pocket. Everything was a bit blurry, but he could recognise his companion's big, fat head anywhere.

He lifted his hand and whacked the idiot on the head, laughing inwardly at the loud expression of pain that tumbled out of his mouth along with several colourful German expletives Crawford could fully understand.

Farfarello was doubling up in manic laughter, encased safely in Crawford's sequencing mind.

OxxxOxxxO

Pretending to be a teacher wasn't that much of a thing for Ran. He had been schooled to do such task while he was still studying, substituting for his teachers when they were absent, doing his part as a respectable member of the academe.

It was part of his mission, seeking to familiarise himself along with the others, with the true nature of the one named "Epitaph". It was a strange feeling, chilling even, for as far as he had seen, they didn't look all too human at all, Epitaph's minions. It made him uneasy, not knowing anything concrete regarding the madness that was all around him. It was already way past the usual amount of time they had over fact-finding... and yet nothing. How could they kill someone who remained anonymous and elusive? He wanted to rest his mind and throw everything away if he could – but he couldn't. He had a job to do, and he made it his sole rule to finish all tasks assigned to him. It was just the way he operated – no matter how distasteful.

Another thing that bothered him was that, through it all, even when they were outside and about to start the endless massacre, he had seen two familiar figures cutting the darkness. The nudging in his brain was there once again, and he couldn't seem to dispel the sudden need he had to locate said personalities.

But he was in the middle of a mission.

Even though it seemed as if there were eyes watching his every move, he didn't feel threatened at all.

He had to get answers, what with all the supernatural surrounding him.

He had to.

But before that, he had to stay alive.

OxxxOxxxO

Crawford's fascination was overflowing now.

He had always thought of himself as someone perfect for all the changes artificial and mental that he was subjected to since he was young, but when he learned more about Fujimiya Ran, his concept of perfection changed.

There was something intricately perverse in the way he was holding himself up, the leader of Weiß. It was as if he was becoming more and more used to being herded around and chained and slashed and shot... he was fast becoming one of the most masochistic creaures he had ever known. However, when considering his life outside of work...

He seems like a child in many ways. He mused. He knew the moment he carried him to Magic Bus. Ran's hand just clenched onto Crawford's torn and soggy shirt, unconsciously demanding support. Ran's hand grasped a part of his dress shirt and held onto it, as if mere letting go would mean his death.

For a while, Crawford was irritated, but that soon changed when the unconscious man rubbed his cheek onto his clothed chest and snuggled in deeper into his arms. Yes, just like a child... and it fascinated him to no end. How he could keep the innocence still intact was something Crawford did not understand.

He closed his eyes and a rueful look crept onto his face. He had been corrupted since his youth, thinking that violence would solve most of his problems, using his gift as a means to get what he wanted. Rosenkreuz had been particularly kind to him, except for the cat episodes and their aftermaths, and now, thinking back on those horrible memories of Schuldig trying to escape the seeming prison countless times and getting punished for it, of Farfarello being electrocuted at every expression of trying to reach out back to his former religion, and little Nagi who lost everything at such a young age, pushed into a dark world he did not know much of... he realised one thing – that he was as evil as his predecessors were back then.

He could remember the start of change when Schwarz was formed. Such a tightly knit group whom, after a lot of adjusting became something of a family... something he hungered for in the depths of his soul. He knew the others were the same way, even the slightly unbalanced Farfarello who seemed to understand more than he let on.

He was still in control, of course, but that changed upon introduction to Weiß. He had crossed paths with them countless times that every one of their moves was imprinted in his memory, every contour of their faces, every detail of their features. He scoffed at them fighting like normal humans do and at the fact that it was what they would be forever, humans.

It was only two years ago, when their dream collapsed into nothingness that he realised he was not as invincible and unrivalled as he thought he was. He was not always in control. He was not the one who changed the destiny of everyone around him.

He was simply a creature – one that is less normal for he had a rare gift of precognition.

Then, Fujimiya Ran happened.

He realised that there was someone who was better than him at living his life... better than him at keeping his emotions hidden deep inside... better than him at keeping people close, no matter how much pretence he put in keeping them away.

Fujimiya Ran exceeded him in many ways.

It was perhaps the drive he had for giving him the necessary aid he needed back in the hospital.

He gave him his blood.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his arm. Carefully, almost lovingly, he caressed the spot where the tube was formerly inserted. He could almost feel him move... could almost hear him breathe.

They were one now in many ways.

It made him feel invincible once again.

OxxxOxxxO

Ran was tired, and it showed in the way he dragged himself to bed. Of course no one was going to disturb him tonight – both Youji and Ken were doing just as badly as he was – the former nursing a truckload of bruises on his back for being thrown around too much.

Discarding his clothes, for the first time messily, on the floor, he walked naked to his bathroom. He had to take a shower. He reeked with much blood and gore was sticking to his skin. His favourite glove had been slashed and now he was sporting a slight gash on the back of his left hand – he had to find another glove or have one custom-made as early as possible. Kritiker had to be contacted for it. Their head repair person told him thrice now that he was not being careful.

It was showing.

He wanted to die, really, and he fought to acquire that saving grace. He wanted to die with dignity, and suicide was not the answer. He wanted to die in battle so he could forgive himself – like what he had hoped for at the time of the explosion.

But someone saved him.

He closed his eyes as he stepped into the shower and turned the knob. He felt the warm wetness slide down his skin, felt the droplets of water pelt him almost painfully. If it was any other day, he would be enjoying this, but it wasn't. He just came from a mission wherein almost all his ideals were tested.

His thoughts reverted back to the occurrences a while ago.

Youji tried to kill him tonight. He didn't quite understand why, since they were fighting on the same side after all. The shock jumbled his mind a bit. He never thought he would ever feel the acrid slide and the dangerous grip of the other man's cutting wires.

It seemed he knew something they didn't.

OxxxOxxxO

At first he was not sure what woke him up. However, the sight of the tall mechanical god made itself know to him. It was laughing, hysterical at the sight of chaos and destruction around him.

Epitaph.

Encased by raging fire, the area seemed too unstable, and yet, the god was not relenting. It was not relinquishing its hold on the creatures panicking around it.

In the middle of it all was the familiar figure, bloodied, empty of all hope. His eyes were unfocused as he stared at the supercomputer. Crawford's eyes widened, heart beating fast as he watched, almost in slow motion, the young man charging towards it, katana raised body thrusting forward menacingly.

He couldn't move.

All he could do was watch the man charge towards obvious death.

He opened his mouth to call out his name.

Nothing came out.

And countless writhing tubes emanated from behind the god, piercing the man in thousand points, sucking his blood away... sucking the blood that Crawford had given him that one enlightening day.

He closed his eyes at the sight of the crimson river ebbing away from all too pale skin...

He heard laughter... cruel, cruel laughter...

And everything was still.

Slowly, aware of the gruesome display he was sure to see, he opened his eyes – only to see his ceiling looking down on him. The lavishly painted panelling drawing him back to the real world.

The same dream he had all those nights before... one of the reasons why he cast a watchful eye on Weiß.

A vision. He thought almost convulsively. Goosebumps raced down his arms and he tugged his blanket further up his chin for warmth. A horrifying vision...

/"Epitaph." /

Farfarello's voice resonated in his mind.

/"God." / Crawford agreed, tiredly. /"It's finally here among us." /

There was a moment of silence before his friend's voice crept back into his senses.

/"Let us kill god." /

And Crawford just had to agree.

OxxxOxxxO

It was the sudden creak that put Ran on the defensive. Katana in hand, he pointed the tip at the intruder. Upon recognition, he relaxed and lowered his weapon. Still guarded and a little apprehensive, he nodded, and it gave the newcomer the signal that he was allowed to come in.

"Aya."

It seemed he didn't need to gather up his courage and knock on Youji's door tonight.

"Youji."

"Aya, I –"

"You wanted to kill me."

The air was heavy as silence reigned. "Sorry about that, but I –" The blonde finally started, but was cut off with Ran's scathing remark. "If Omi-kun didn't hit you with a well-aimed arrow, I'd be dead."

Youji's eyes widened, and a strange look passed before he finally bowed his head and nodded. He was apologetic, Ran knew, but his admission just escalated the slight trauma he suffered over the matter. It was like Shion all over again.

"Tsujii-sensei told me a secret today." Youji started, leaning against the heavy door. "She said she knew a way for people to forget the past and start anew."

The redhead's glare abated, replaced by both confusion and interest. A way to forget the past... how convenient. He thought absently, a strange fluttering emanating from his heart. "Isn't that a bit ridiculous?" He asked cautiously.

"Aya, for a desperate man, anything is better than nothing."

Ran had to agree. What would it be like to forget the past? Youji was not the only one suffering... what if everyone forgot their painful pasts and started new lives without such burden? But if the past was forgotten... what was the point of living in the present?

"She said Epitaph would help."

"Epitaph?"

Youji nodded. "That was why I stopped you tonight. Now that I thought about it clearly... I realise I shouldn't have done that and instead, tell you guys about it."

"Do you really want to erase your past so badly, Youji?"

"Doesn't anybody?"

"Aren't you just escaping from it?"

"I know." The blonde sighed, looking at him pleadingly. "I want to escape, Aya... I really want to."

Amethyst eyes narrowed as a sudden realisation dawned upon him.

"But without the past, Youji... what would you be?"

Green eyes flashed. "A new person."

Ran shook his head and sheathed his katana. He stood up and whacked him on the head lightly with it. "No, stupid. An empty shell – without a reason to live since you can't remember who you are."

Silence.

"Oh."

A grateful sigh escaped from the tight lips. "You finally understood. Seriously, you're worse than Sena-kun sometimes." The Weiß leader gave him a painful poke with the tip of his sword's sheath, earning a satisfying gasp from the taller man. "Now go to sleep. If you still want to escape your past, bump your head hard against the metal ball of the huge tractor downtown and get yourself a severe case of amnesia. It works the same way."

"Aya."

"Youji."

"You're an asylum god."

"Youji – shi-ne."

TSUZUKU