Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction / Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Black Velvet ❯ Cemetery Gates ( Chapter 6 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
*******************************Author's Notes********************************
Papa Legba is the guardian of the crossroads and gates in Voudon practices. Erzulie Dantor is the protector of those who experience domestic violence, particularly women and children. She is also said to be the guardian of gay men and lesbians.
The song used in this chapter is Cemetery Gates by Pantera.
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But what if they don't want me? A child's voice questioned.
Crawford jerked awake suddenly trying to hold on to the elusive fragments of the dream he'd been having. It had felt so real. He knew it would happen eventually but couldn't quite grasp the details. He lay there for a few moments trying to shake awareness into his sleep fogged brain as to where he was. He sighed a little as it registered that he was where he had never imagined he'd be again. On Madame Belle's front porch swing, just waking up from a nap. How many times had that happened when he was younger, he mused. It was one of the few good memories from his youth that he could hold on to. He stared at the dovetail slats of the front porch ceiling for a few moments letting memories that were best left buried run free in his mind. How many times had his mother dragged them all into this house in the middle of the night because it wasn't safe to be in their own home? How many nights had been spent in the kitchen of this house with bruises being tended and cuts sewn up? How many mornings had dawned with him too exhausted to go to school because the night had been spent on watch? How many times had he taken beatings for his mother and sisters because he'd seen one of them die if he didn't? His only regret was that he hadn't killed the bastard himself. Someone else had already done the job for him. He shook his head again. The past was the past. It was another time and another life.
His whole existence had changed. Altered by his own will and determination to be something completely different than what he'd started out as. It seemed so strange to him that nothing had changed and yet everything had. He was still in the role of guardian and protector, though his team would never know that. He had kept them out of everything that could have caused their deaths. It had taken every ounce of will he could muster not to shoot Takatori himself when he had been beating Schuldig with the damn nine iron.
He heard an odd rattle and then a slam off to his left. He sat up in time to watch Skye come from the cellar carrying a basket over one arm. He leaned forward to watch her walk toward a path he knew very well. He watched her disappear into the trees then for some inexplicable reason got up to follow her. He followed the well worn path through the woods and rounded the bend just in time to see Skye walk toward the cemetery gates. She knocked three times and the gates swung silently open for her. He shook his head to clear it then started to walk back to the house, wondering what Skye was doing in the cemetery.
He went into the kitchen to find Belle shaking her head and looking out the window to where Aya and Ben were squaring off.
“What the hell are they doing?” Crawford asked.
“Looks like they're spoiling for a fight,” Belle said dismissively.
“Ben will kick his ass up between his ears,” Crawford said.
“I don't doubt that for an instant. You got a question, bebe?”
“I was wondering what Skye was doing in the cemetery is all.”
“Visiting the dead, most likely. All her family is there along with your Mama.”
Crawford's head whipped around to look at her so fast he made himself dizzy. “What?”
“Oh, that's right. You don't know. Couldn't see any point in burying her anywhere else. She was part of this family as much as you and the girls ever were. Bradley!” she commanded just as he was about to sprint out the door. “You forgettin' something?”
“Oh. Could I . . .”
Belle smiled a little and wrapped the loaf of bread she'd just pulled out of the oven in cloth and handed it to him. Then fished under the kitchen sink and brought out a dusty bottle.
“There, that should do for now,” she said, pushing the bottle into his hands. “Mind you be polite and knock first.”
“I will,” he said before hurrying out of the kitchen.
Crucified for no sins
No revenge... beneath me.
Lost within my plans for life,
It all seems so unreal.
I'm a man cut in half in this world,
Left in my misery.
There seemed to be no thought in his head as Crawford followed the path through the trees toward the cemetery. He didn't need to pay attention to where he was going after all; he could have found his way in the dark. He rounded the last bend in the path and came face to face with an old man leaning on a walking stick.
“Where you think you're goin', petit?” the old man asked.
Crawford looked at the man oddly for a moment before saying, “I'm going to visit my mother.”
The old man tilted his head and studied him for a moment, absently playing with the large ring of keys attached to his belt. “Been a busy day for visitin' the dead. Specially for those who are already dead and from the feel of you, ones who've been dead.”
Crawford caught his jaw as it started to drop. Realization of who this person was had suddenly dawned on him and he bowed forward slightly. “That it has been, Papa Legba. Skye is there visiting her family as we speak.”
“You mean the pretty one who's dead but not.”
“That would be her,” Crawford said, smiling slightly.
“Tell ya what, petit, give me that bottle of rum and I'll let you pass with only one more question. But you gotta answer truthful. I'll know if you don't.”
Crawford nodded then handed him the bottle and went to the gates unhindered. He knocked three times and they swung silently open before him. He looked back over his shoulder at the old man expectantly.
“Now the question. Who rides you?”
Crawford was slightly taken aback by the question but shook off the shock before answering.
“Erzulie Dantor. For as long as I can remember.”
“Ahhhh. You like other men, then,” Legba said, nodding.
“Well, one at any rate,” Crawford said halfheartedly, thinking that if Schuldig were to see this he'd think he was going crazy.
“Mmmhmm. Go see your Mama. And thank that pretty little dead girl in there for saving your life.”
“Huh?”
“It'll hit you. Now get goin'.”
With that Crawford walked through the cemetery gates.