Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ New Rules, New Ruler ❯ Chapter 23 ( Chapter 23 )

Part Twenty-Three

`Scheisse! Why do I never think anything through? Hurt god, must hurt god. Help! What do I do now? Oh scheisse scheisse scheisse.

`Poor Nagi, hated child, poor cold Nagi. Warm him up. Nagi hurts God, God clearly hates him. Mmm, blood. Does he think of nothing else? Damn Psychopath! Damned god obsessed Psychopath!'

`Hey, be a little nicer to your host.'

`You're aware of me in here?'

`Aye, so make a little less racket, eh?'

`I can't get out! I want to get back in my own body! No offense. Tell them! Tell them I can't get out.'

`Ah, ye seemed to have made a bit of mistake, me poor lamb. I'm Jei.'

`You're who? Oh schiesse. Oh gott-`

`Do not take our Lord's name in vain.'

`He's never done anything for me! I'm stuck in the head of a god-hating nutter, with his god-loving alter-ego with no way to get back into my own body! If he had any compassion do you think he'd have put me into this situation?'

`Ye can't get back out the way ye came in? And after everything ye've done, I can't help but feel ye deserve this. Ye have broken every commandment, ye break every law. Ye are lucky God loves unconditionally, and he'll forgive ye if ye ask fer fergiveness.'

`I ask for nothing! Look, I'm a telepath, and Farfarello, well, you, aren't. See my problem?'

`Could that disillusioned lassie help ye?'

`Yeah, if she wasn't bloody miles away! Wait, you knew?'

`She just want people te be happy. I cen sympathise.'

`Yeah. Poor you. Huh, does this mean Farf has multiple personalities?'

`Oh no, I'm not really here. I'm a figment of his imagination, really. A name for all the emotions he buries and all the pain he refuses to feel. I'm everything he refuses to acknowledge, everything he was, everything he could have been.'

`So you are Farfarello. So you could tell the others. Not overly impressed here, you know.'

`I'm the repressed Farfarello! How can he tell the others what he can't e'en tell himself?'

`I've been here too long already. That almost made sense. Look, you're his subconscious, partially, right? Don't correct me; I'm the ultimate psychologist. I put Freud to shame. Speaking of whom, let's try a little game here.'

`Game? I don't think I'd like yer games.'

`Sure you will. It's called `Freudian slips'. You think real hard about letting on what's going on, and make Farf say what he's really thinking. Which is what you're really thinking.'

`I can't see this working, friend. Aye, maybe I could get `im te say stuff about God, or pain, but why would he repress stuff about ye? Ye're completely separate. Ye're not any part o' him to repress, aye?'

`So, I'll help. All we have to do is get him to convince Brad and Nagi to fetch Tash.

`You're right, this isn't going to work, is it?'

`Aye, but it's the only plan we've got. I like ye, Farf likes ye, and we want ye te be okay.'

`I know.'

* * *

`Fuck, he's asleep.'

`Sorry. Please don't swear.'

`What? Oh, yeah ,sorry. Gott, I musta have been here way too long to be apologising to you! To a repressed subconscious.'

`Please don't take the Lord's name in vain.'

`Shut the fuck up. I can see why Farf keeps you back here. You whine!'

`I'm sorry. Perhaps we can implement your plan when he wakes up?'

`Honestly, that could be too late. Hell, it's probably too late as it is, but I have to try. Heh, I know. If you're part of his subconscious, you must have access to his dreams, right? And I'm a master at playing with dreams…'

The dreamscape shimmered, and Schuldig appeared. Farfarello regarded him with a mild surprise. Schuldig's surprise was considerably less mild.

"Where's your eye patch?"

"I have two eyes here. It's my dream, I can have what I like."

Schuldig stared around. A Catholic church. Outside, rioting could be heard. Shouts in a musical language Schuldig didn't understand a word of filtered through ornate windows. Then some in English. Shots ringing out. An explosion.

"Ireland," Schuldig murmured.

"It wasn't a happy place to grow up," Farfarello admitted. "This is an almost exclusively protestant area."

"And you were catholic?" Farfarello nodded. His hair was a flaming orange, and his eyes had more green in than Schuldig was used to. He looked younger. He looked like the Farfarello Schuldig had met at Rosenkruez, chained up in a padded cell. He even had freckles. "Imagine there's no religion. Imagine all the people, living in peace," Schuldig murmured. <Imagine, by John Lennon, in case you were wondering>

"I always liked that song. It weren't until I left Ireland I noticed it's Communist roots. I liked it e'en better then."

"Yeah." This wasn't going how Schuldig had expected it to. Who'd have thought Farfarello had such a good grip on what was going on inside his own head? Outwardly insane, inwardly calm. In some ways, it was much better than the rest of the world, the so called `sane'.

"I'll miss ye," Farfarello offered. Or was it Jei? "Bradley's barely holdin' it tog'ther. Nagi's not stopped weeping."

"I know. I can see. Farf, I'm still here." No, this was coming out all wrong, like he was a concerned spirit. "I'm in you!"

"Ye're in all o' us," Farfarello offered.

"Yes… Nein! I'm in you! I'm in your head, Farf. When he knocked down the shields they created at Rosenkruez, I fled before I was hit too hard. I took refuge in your head. You have to tell the others I'm not dead, but if something isn't done soon I will be."

"What sorta something?" Farfarello settled himself on a pew and started eating the sacred wafers off of a silver plate that had pretty much appeared out of nowhere. He offered Schuldig the wine. Even Schuldig found that a bit distasteful, though it didn't stop him from downing the cup.

"Tash. Fetch her. She ought to be able to create some sort of conduit."

"Ye want her? After all she's done?" Farfarello laughed incredulously. "And ye thought I was loco!"

"Yeah, I guess. But she's the only active mental anywhere near here. We're not going to reach the Sahara or Iceland before I become a vegetable."

"Why either o' those?"

"The other telepaths. Big empty places. Just, fetch Tash. Do what you have to to make her open my mind and put me back."

"Ye want ye shields put back up first?"

"Nah, I can deal with that, as long as we stay out here."

"Okay, I can do that."

They sat in silence for a bit, Farfarello chewing on the wafers and Schuldig sipping from the refilling cup. There was the sound of tanks outside.

"Sounds pretty bad out there," Schuldig observed.

"Aye. Innocents dying, soldiers mowing down people with automatic weapons, car bombs, IRA vigilantes, streets awash with blood…"

"Wanna go watch?"

"Aye!"

*A/N: My Irish history is a bit wobbly, but I remember a time within my lifetime when it was really bad in Ireland. With a bit of shoehorning, I've made that Farfarello's childhood. No, I haven't seen the WK episode with Ruth, but that doesn't place it anywhere more detailed than Ireland, does it? I hope I haven't offended anyone with my depiction of Ireland here, or Schuldig and Farf's treatment of the Holy Sacrament. Honestly, I'm not Catholic, so I don't actually have the faintest idea what I'm talking about. *