Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ The Fallen Ones ❯ Chapter 1: I am tired… ( Chapter 2 )

Yes. Yes, I am being naughty, starting another fic, when I promised I'd be working on my first, but…

*wails* I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD!!!! IT WON'T STOP BUGGING ME!!!

I know a lot about Sailor Moon, both manga and anime-wise (though I'm by no means an expert), and though I know little about Weiss Kreuz, I find Farfarello absolutely fascinating. (I must have some sort of fetish for people with silver hair *smile*)

So I did a lot of research on him, to portray him in the best way, yet in a way I could be comfortable in. I've decided on the cold, smart Farfarello, though weather he's insane or just eerily creepy, I haven't quite decided yet.

This chapter has no Sailor Moon in it yet. We'll see that next time.

Disclaimer: Yes I do admit I do not own neither of these magnificent works, but it's great fun borrowing them. If I ever get around to drawing my own manga, than maybe we can trade. But till then… *sigh* I'll have to settle for loaning them from their respective owners.

Authors note: I might be stepping on a lot of toes when writing this, but I'm sure Farfarello would forgive me. After all, there's going to be a whole lot of blasphemy in later chapters. Usagi… Hell! Usagi forgives everyone!!!

So enjoy!!

The Fallen Ones

Chapter 1: I am tired…

Schwarz and Weiss had been fighting again.

It had been Farfarello's fault. He had been restless. He was always restless on the full moon ('God knows why,' thought Crawford), and on this night when the moon shone red he had finally escaped his confines.

Schwarz had been in the park when they found him. The Berserker's trail was an easy one to follow: Just follow the trickle of blood from Farfarello's many attempts at hurting his god.

The park was littered with corpses. Park-dwellers everywhere had lost their lives, no mercy had been spared. The Berserker had done a thorough job, they could only thank the gods that it had happened at night and not in broad daylight. It had cut the losses. Though not by much.

Farfarello was standing serenely in a patch of moonlight, covered in blood, gazing up at a monument. It was an angel. A marble angel standing tall, reaching out to passers-by, a serene smile on her pale white face. Some blood had splattered across her face, but the statue still smiled; ever forgiving.

An unreadable look crossed the Irishman's face as he gazed into the angels face, his cold emotionless stare meeting the gentle eyes of the marble woman. The latest victim of his, a little girl, lay at his feet, still alive, shivering.

"There is no peace."

The voice broke through the silence so suddenly that Crawford thought he might have imagined it, but both Schuldig and Nagi were looking at Farfarello as well; Nagi with a worried frown, Schuldig in silent bemusement. It was rare that the Berserker spoke, and never in such a defiant voice. And to a statue none the less…

Studying the statue closer, they noticed the plac.

"In memory of peace," Schuldig read out loud, amusement clear in his voice as he glanced at the other two members of Schwarz before turning back to their insane friend.

Farfarello was bending down gracefully, picking up the shivering bundle at his feet, his eye never leaving the angels soulful eyes as he cradled the child in his arms. The child sighed contently, not showing any sign of fear as she snuggled closer into the man known as Berserker's embrace.

"Weiss is here," Schuldig muttered, nodding his head in their direction as four people stepped out of the shadows, armed. Kritiker had sent them.

Neither of the two older Schwarz members eyes left the scene in front of them, of Farfarello softly cradling the small street rat in the pale moonlight, ignoring Weiss as they snuck closer.

The lone madman made an ethereal yet haunting vision; the blood covered angel smiling gently down at him in the background as a bloody knife caressed the sleeping child snuggled in his arms, the moonlight making his silver hair glow softly as the mild night wind played with it.

Nagi kept a weary eye on the rival assassins, but the team of four showed no interest in them, eyes intent on the child in Farfarello's arms. 'This must be a rescue mission then,' he thought to himself, sighing in relief.

"There is no peace. There never was."

'Such a quiet voice Farfarello had,' Nagi mused, watching the emotionless face of the Berserker stroking the child. There was something undeniably sad about the picture he made, standing alone, however cold Farfarello tried to be…

Sliding the blade over her skin, Farfarello continued his speech, oblivious to all his surroundings:

"Peace is but an illusion created by God to bring comfort."

The child opened her eyes, not flinching at the blade resting on her cheek. Her smile was sad, her eyes old. As old as his.

"You will live," he whispered sadly, the knife nicking a small wound in her flesh.

"You will suffer." Another shallow cut joined the first. A small drop of crimson welled up.

"And then you will slowly decay, only to begin the cruel circle all over again." A third cut appeared as two pair of old eyes met each other.

Weiss was entranced, watching such a different Farfarello. He seemed almost sane; sad, were it not for his surroundings, a park full of carnage.

A sad, but serious frown crossed the silver haired youth as he watched a single drop of blood slide down the child's chin. Her eyes were drooping, tired from the blood loss, slowly dying from previous wounds.

Stroking her hair, he whispered into her ear, "I can never know rest. God will not let me. But…"

Pausing the hand that was holding the knife, he brought the blade closer to her tiny neck, letting it rest there, across her veins. The child watched him, without fear, eyes drooping yet still focused on him. Trusting.

Braking that gaze he'd held for so long with the child he held, his single amber eye returned to the angel's, defiant. "The only peace Earths creatures will ever know is in death. The peaceful sleep of the slain as their blood seeps into the ground."

His gaze turned back to the quiet child in his arms, eye intense in his cold conviction, "And only I can give them that. Only I can give them Peace…"

"Do you want that peace? Do you want to sleep?" he asked the child, voice soft, steady, serious… sad. "Or do you want to live Gods way? Wait for it to begin all over again, the fighting, the suffering; the never ending circle?"

Weiss was getting antsy as Farfarello's speech progressed, but the knife was much too close and as long as there was a chance of saving the child… they couldn't risk attacking. He might listen to her…

Brown hair fluttered around the soft heart shaped face of the girl as the wind blew mild. Even in her filthy rags stained red with blood, a contrast to her pale thin skin, she was the epitome of childish innocence. Only her eyes betrayed her, those big grey orbs had seen things no child should know of. A good majority of the Berserkers victims had been homeless, like her, resting in the park, but not all of them. And a life was a life, none the less, thought Aya.

The other three members of Schwarz had been standing just as silently as their rivals, watching their friend interact with the child. There was something surreal about the whole conversation, of a melancholic Farfarello; as if they had all taken a step out of time and reality.

"Whatever you do, Schuldig, Nagi," Crawford glanced at them meaningfully, "Do Not interfere." Both Schuldig and Nagi glanced back at him, eyes full of unease, but nodded at him.

Crawford could easily understand their feelings, the situation was getting to him as well. Something was very different about the Irishman tonight.

The girl-child looked up uncertainly on her guardian angel. That was what he must be, holding her as he was, with his silver hair and golden eye.

He was warm. But so sad. You could see it in his eye.

She frowned; she hadn't understood all he said, but she got the gist of it. He could help her. She trusted him.

"Would you let me go if I said no?"

Her tiny child's voice filled with curious innocence pierced the darkness, startling many of the solemn men watching the scene. Aya strained his ears to hear Berserkers reply; a lot rode on his answer. If he said no, they would have to attack him immediately to save the girl.

Farfarello studied the tiny child in his arms intently before he answered quietly: "Just this once."

"Why?"

The genuine curiosity in her eyes as she looked at him, filled with naïve trust, wanting to know why he would spare her when he would not all the others made him answer.

"Because you did not run. Because you did not flinch. Because you're not afraid. Because you have no power."

Glancing up at the moon he continued, "Because the moon is bleeding once again, and I can be sad and remember just this *one* day. Because I am tired, and I know that I can never rest in peace. Because I know that if I ask, then you can never come back; and though you have never been happy, you will know peace at last."

Wide eyes were shining on him, full of trust; small hands came up carefully around his neck, turning his face back to her as she hugged him; her tiny face tilted up as she whispered into his ear, for him and him alone: "Don't be sad. I'm tired and you feel nice. Warm," she sighed, hugging tighter, "I wanna sleep. Make the cold go away… stay warm forever. Give me peace…"

Everyone around them were on edge. Schwarz warily watching Weiss now, more than Farfarello, while Weiss were waiting for a chance to grab the hostage of the Berserker; both of teams showed interest when the girl slipped from his grasp to suddenly give him a hug after his speech. Schuldig made some lewd comment about the Irishman while everybody else tensed waiting for the girl's answer.

The girl let go of him, ending the hug. Leaning back on the one hand still holding her, she breathed out "Thank you", making the two tense teams relax momentarily; before she smiled as she bared her neck to him, just as Farfarello exploded into action slashing at her with his silver knife.

-

Praeceps:

Yes, well hm… That was honestly not planned quite like that. Farfarello came off a bit more melancholic than I'd planned. But I'm going to state that there's a valid reason why he's acting so out of character, and it's only for a little while anyway…

I'm not sure what rateing to put on this fic, but do to some topic, and maybe blasphemy, I'm going to say R for now. If you think it isn't nessassary, DO TELL ^-^

Oh! And any spelling mistakes can be blamed on incompetent English teachers, and/or my spell-check program, because I, myself, am PERFECT!!! ;-P (and when I say perfect, I MEAN perfect. My daddy said so ;-)

If you have any questions about the story that you find unclear, I will do my best to answer them, as long as I deem them of no harm to my present plot-line.