Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction / Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Black Velvet ❯ Cuts ( Chapter 14 )

Father, tell me somethin'
Where do bad men go when they die?
And mother says you'll go there but
Wings for her and I and I don't mind
Cause I have always wanted to learn to...
Fly...

“Brad,” Belle said, coming into the ballroom where he was playing the piano and singing.

 

The song jarred to a harsh stop as Crawford turned his head to look at her. “Yes, Belle?”

 

“Haven't heard you play in a long time.”

 

“I'm really rusty,” he said, flexing his fingers and frowning at the keys.

 

“Didn't sound it to me. But I suppose you've been too busy making plans to take over the world.”

 

Crawford stared at her for a minute before deciding to ignore the comment she had just made. “What do you need?”

 

Belle sat down next to him on the piano bench. “Not so much what I need right now. If I can offer some advice though?”

 

“I'm listening,” Crawford said, turning on the bench and giving her his full attention.

 

“First, you need to talk to a certain person about what happened all those years ago. Second, you and that little fireball need to get together or give it up completely.”

 

Crawford sighed and shook his head. “I think I'd rather be drawn and quartered than face Skye just now.”

 

“Let me tell you something about this situation. I know your memory is coming back in bits and pieces about everything that happened but I wouldn't try to force it if I were you. You remember her being in your life off and on though, don't you?”

 

“Yes. I seem to recall her threatening my father if he hurt us again. I think the fear from that threat lasted a whole month before he started again.”

 

Belle nodded. “I don't think you realize how hard it was for her when her punishment got set for killing him.”

 

Crawford's eyebrows drew down into a deep frown. “What do you mean? Why was she punished for that?”

 

“Wasn't her place to do it. A lot of things changed when she did.”

 

Crawford nodded. “Yes. I saw so many things change at once it made me dizzy.”

 

“I know. We all saw things change. A lot of things that weren't supposed to happen did,” Belle said, looking him squarely in the eyes. “You weren't supposed to find Circe. You should have at least been spared that pain.”

 

Crawford shook his head. “I didn't really find her, Belle. Everything that made her my baby sister was long gone by that point. I wouldn't have recognized her if she hadn't been lucid for that one brief moment. She willed herself to die after that. I had to accept the fact that I'd failed her twice.”

 

“Now you listen to me, bebe,” Belle said, leaning in and glaring at him. “You weren't much more than a baby yourself when your Papa sold her off. No matter how strong you were even then, a ten year old boy is no match for a grown man. He beat you so bad that night we thought he'd killed you. Just so you know, Miss Maggie, Skye to you now, is the reason you're sitting here after that. She's the one who patched you back together before taking off to try to find Circe.”

 

“My gods, Belle, how do I even begin to tell her . . . anything?”

 

“You face her square on and say what you feel. Same with Schuldig. You never had any trouble speaking your mind before.”

 

“That seems like a million years ago.”

 

Belle sighed and patted him on the leg. “Not much changed in you between then and now. You just think it did. And before you go telling me about what you've become, I already know.”

 

“Already know what?” Crawford said, feeling suddenly uneasy about the fact that he was a killer.

 

“I know what you and Schuldig do for a living. Same as Aya, Yohji, and the Red Shaman bunch. I also know that, unlike Aya and Yohji, you actually love what you do.”

 

“Belle . . .” Crawford began.

 

“Don't concern yourself overmuch about it,” she said, getting up. “Oh, we do need some wood split if you don't mind. Ben isn't here and I'd ask one of the other boys if I weren't fairly sure they'd hurt themselves with the axe.”

 

“I'll do it. Thank you for understanding about everything else.”

 

Belle smiled at him. “That wood won't cut itself.”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

 

An hour later Schuldig came to Belle.

 

“Have you seen Ora . . . Craw . . . Brad?”

 

Belle grinned. “Last I saw of him he was headed to split some wood like I asked him to.”

 

Schuldig stared at her while trying to bully his mouth into closing properly. “Wait, wait, wait, trying to get a mental picture of this.”

 

“Mental picture of what?”

 

“Of Oracle doing manual labor.”

 

Belle cocked her head to the side and listened for a moment. “Sounds like he's still out there. You can go find him if you don't believe me.”

 

“I never said I didn't believe you,” Schuldig said with a shrug and went outside.

 

He followed the resounding cracks of wood being split. Then stopped dead in his tracks after coming around the corner of the woodshed. Crawford was indeed splitting wood and giving Schuldig wood in the process. Crawford had taken his shirt off and Schuldig was fascinated by the play of lean muscles under slightly sweaty skin. To top off everything the denim of Crawford's jeans had molded to his hips and thighs and the fabric stretched tight across his ass every time he moved. Schuldig had to bite his bottom lip so hard he thought he was going to draw blood to keep from moaning out loud. As it was, he was sure that those odd little whimpers he was making were sure to draw Crawford's attention.

 

When Crawford turned around Schuldig forgot to breathe completely. Crawford had his glasses off, was slightly flushed from work, his hair was stuck to his forehead and one cheek. Oh, yeah, there was an image that had probably burned itself into his memory until the outside of forever.

 

“What?” Crawford asked.

 

Schuldig didn't answer for a moment because he was watching one sweat drop trail down Crawford's stomach to disappear into the waistband of his jeans.

 

“Gods, I so want to be that right now,” Schuldig mumbled.

 

“Schuldig, what is your major malfunction?”

 

Schuldig's gaze snapped up to Crawford's face. “Temporary insanity.”

 

“That's lasted twenty two years,” Crawford said. “Shit. I'm sorry.”

 

Schuldig stared at him. “Who are you and what did you do with Oracle?”

 

“What?”

 

“You just apologized for being an ass to me.”

 

“Yes, I did. Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“No. Yeah. Kind of. You've just been really fucking weird since you kicked off and got bounced back into your body,” Schuldig said, eyeing him warily. “I don't know how to take you anymore.”

 

Crawford dropped the splitting maul he was still holding and rubbed the back of his neck where the muscles had tightened up. Schuldig was again distracted by ripple of muscle.

 

“Damn it, I don't know how to do this,” Crawford growled, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“Don't know how to do what?”

 

“I . . . we need to talk.”

 

“I'm here, so talk,” Schuldig said.

 

Crawford stared at him for what seemed to be ages. How the hell was he supposed to breach this subject with Schuldig? He had no idea what it was to be in a relationship. He had only been involved in one night stands where he or the other person were gone before daylight the next morning.

 

“I just . . .” Crawford began before being interrupted.

 

“Hey, Braddy! Daaaaaaamn! Wish you liked women,” Cassie said, after bouncing around the corner.

 

“What is it, Cassie?”

 

“Benny says to go grab a shower, he's dragging you to Velvet.”

 

“No. Oh, no. And hell no!” Crawford said.

 

“He says you're going if he has to drug and drag you.”

 

“It may have to come to that,” Crawford grumbled.

 

“I doubt it,” Cassie said. Then she grabbed Schuldig by the arm. “C'mon, Schu, Skye and Star are going too. Rory is staying here for obvious reasons. So are Dee and I because we want to keep Aya-chan company since she can't get into the club yet. Still so weird to have two Ayas,” she said, dragging Schuldig behind her. “Get it in gear, Braddy! Party starts at eight.”

 

Crawford rolled his eyes skyward. “My time with insane redheads never ends.”

 

*********************Author's Notes***********************

The song used in this chapter is Fly by Nickelback.

For those of you who are rurally challenged, a splitting maul looks sort of like an axe but is heavier at the blunt end and is used to split wood along the grain. i.e. splitting logs into smaller pieces to be used for firewood.