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Vanitas stared off into the night, barely clinging to consciousness.
Mikhail was gone again.
Vanitas had thought him dead, but he was alive of all things.
And he didn’t remember.
Vanitas didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
But that didn’t matter as he was gone again, whisked away into the darkness by the Shapeless One — Noé’s teacher, Dominique’s grandfather — who had arranged this whole incident in the first place.
Vanitas had never had much cause to think well of the Shapeless One. Despite Noé’s clear gratefulness and praise of the vampire, which Vanitas would take with a grain of salt anyway given Noé’s kind and optimistic nature, the stories surrounding him had never bode well. A mysterious and formidable being that stuck to the shadows, even more so than other scheming vampires that Vanitas could think of, and seemed to delight in watching people squirm.
In all of the worst ways, having now met him in person, he reminded Vanitas of Dr. Moreau.
Meaning Mikhail was once more in the hands of a madman and this time there was no way for Vanitas to protect him.
Vanitas clenched his jaw as his fingers clutched the Book of Vanitas even more tightly.
It seemed that Mikhail didn’t want Vanitas to protect him anymore.
Vanitas’s mind whirled as he tried to look at the bigger picture. The Shapeless One hadn’t completely tipped his hand, but clearly he had an interest in curse bearers given his connection to Louis’s case in the past. He also seemed intent on keeping an eye on both of the Books, with him sending Noé to observe Vanitas and by keeping Mikhail within his grasp. But what did it mean? What did he even want?
Frustration welled up as his thoughts refused to fall in line like they usually did. Why was it so hard to think? Why couldn’t he —
Vanitas suddenly realized how hard it was to breathe.
His previous train of thought derailed as Vanitas did a quick check over the state of his body. He knew that he was in rough shape already, in more than just the physical way. He’d collapsed multiple times already due to the strain his body was under, but overall, with his high pain tolerance, everything had been at a level that he could mostly ignore.
Now that he was paying attention…
It was bad.
He was covered in a whole collection of scrapes and other injuries from his fight with Noé, and he knew in no time he’d be plastered with bruises as well. His left ankle throbbed and he’d had trouble moving it ever since he and Noé had fallen. His ribs were hopefully simply bruised, not fractured nor broken, as a sharp pain lanced through his chest with each labored breath. He was having trouble breathing, almost on the verge of hyperventilating as he wasn’t taking in enough air. His heartbeat was erratic, most likely a result of taking more than one dose of chasseur tonic. Exhaustion burrowed itself into his very bones, weighing down his entire body.
Worst of all, his head hurt.
No doubt some of it was from physical injury; he’d been tossed around quite a bit and something was surely rattled up there. More than that, all of his carefully created walls and facades lay shattered around him, as destroyed as the amusement park itself.
Mikhail had always been a weakness since the day the boy was snatched by Moreau and made his responsibility. Even when he thought him gone, the spot in his heart and life that Mikhail had occupied had been soft and vulnerable.
Now it seemed that without fully realizing it, he had gained another weakness, another liability: Noé.
Vanitas hadn’t been able to kill him.
The strongest hypnotic suggestion he could create, to ensure that he’d never waver even if his circumstances miraculously changed, and he hadn’t been able to fulfill it in the end.
Dante had teased him about it before but now there was no way he could deny it, either to himself or anyone else.
He cared for Noé.
That revelation was somehow the final straw.
Darkness rapidly closed in around Vanitas, but he somehow found himself chuckling a bit.
Oh, that vampire is going to be the death of me.
With that thought, Vanitas collapsed.
Noé was worried. It was the only thing he knew for sure at the moment.
It was as if the world as he knew it had been flipped on its head so many times in just this night that he had no idea which way it now stood.
First, Domi had been in danger and needed him. Then, the revelation of a second Book of Vanitas and Vanitas’s little brother, Mikhail, had been a shock in and of itself, especially as Mikhail was the one keeping Domi hostage, but then Mikhail had made Noé drink his blood, revealing his and Vanitas’s past together along with the Vampire of the Blue Moon. Then, Vanitas had arrived and they ended up fighting, with Vanitas acting strangely and attempting to kill him. Until it turned out that Vanitas couldn’t bring himself to actually kill him. Then, Mikhail had lost control of his Book, and Domi managed to recover in time to save them all. But then Mikhail had almost killed Vanitas when he tried to help the boy, and with the arrival of his Teacher…
It was a lot.
Noé wasn’t quite sure what to think about everything that happened. Especially since it seemed that he didn’t know Teacher at all. Not to mention, it seemed that perhaps Teacher didn’t have his best interests in mind.
The worst thing was that part of him still wanted to excuse his Teacher, to believe that his Teacher was in the right and that things would work out.
But the evidence was overwhelming that this was not the case, and he simply couldn’t turn a blind eye to it.
“We should leave.”
Noé glanced over at Domi. She leaned against Jeanne’s side, probably not necessarily needing the support but clearly welcoming it. She had recovered marvelously, but her grandfather’s revelations had knocked her off kilter once more. Still, she obviously pulled herself together, because frankly, one of them had to.
Noé considered her words before taking a look around.
The amusement park, a place Noé would’ve loved to explore any other day, was in ruins. It was shocking how much damage just him and Vanitas had done to the place, but then with Mikhail losing control and Domi’s quick triage, the entire park was either in pieces, on fire, or encased in ice.
It was… not the most inconspicuous damage in the world.
“Someone will have noticed something by now. Bourreaus, chasseurs, or even police might show up.” Domi grimaced. “We don’t want to be here when they arrive.”
No, they probably didn’t. Noé certainly didn’t want to spend another night in a jail cell, and even if the matter would be swept under the rug due to its connection to vampires, he didn’t want to be associated with all this.
“Um…” Jeanne’s free hand fluttered over Domi, as if unsure how to best hold her. “Where should we go?”
Domi and Noé locked eyes at that.
Normally, Noé would have suggested that she go to the de Sade’s Paris residence to recoup. But even if the house was owned by her father and used by the main family, her grandfather still had open access to it. He probably wouldn’t make any other moves tonight, but Noé didn’t think either he or Domi felt safe under the de Sade roof at the moment.
Which left…
“The hotel.” Noé decided. “You two can stay with us —”
“Jeanne and I will get our own room.” Domi’s counter made Noé blink. As he tilted his head at her, she shot him a wry grin. “I don’t think he’s going to be up to dealing with more people than necessary right now.” She gestured with her chin.
And Noé directed his full attention to the person he’d already been keeping half an eye on anyway.
Vanitas hadn’t moved since Teacher and Mikhail had disappeared. He stood as still as a statue, clutching his own Book as if it was the last buoy to prevent him from drowning. His gaze never wavered from where Mikhail was last seen.
Domi was probably right once more.
“All right.” Noé didn’t really want Domi to leave his sight at the moment, but it might be for the best when it came to treating their different wounds. Besides, given that he’d had what looked like two mental breakdowns, Noé figured it might be best for Vanitas’s mental health, or whatever passed for it, if it was just them.
Although in this case, Noé might be part of the problem.
He sighed. There was really too much going on. “All right,” Noé repeated, “just let me —”
Thump! Noé jumped at the sound, whirling to locate its source, and froze when he found it.
The Book of Vanitas laid on the ground, having slipped through Vanitas’s fingers.
“Vanitas?” Noé took a step towards him. “Vanitas, are you…”
Vanitas didn’t even seem to hear him as he emitted a broken little chuckle, swaying slightly with the breeze.
Then he collapsed.
Vanitas would have joined his Book on the ground if Noé hadn’t immediately dashed over to catch him. His hand just barely managed to halt Vanitas’s descent as he wrapped it around the other’s waist. He adjusted his hold so Vanitas leaned against his left shoulder, moving his left arm as much as he could to support him, and then he peered down at Vanitas’s face.
“Vanitas?” He called softly as he looked closely.
Vanitas was unconscious once more, much deeper this time from the way his head flopped back on Noé’s shoulder, and Noé’s calls didn’t garner so much as a flicker of his eyelids.
“Vanitas,” Noé reached up to his face, “we need to go.”
Vanitas’s skin was as cold as ice. Vanitas usually ran a bit cooler from what Noé could tell, but not to such a degree. Noé froze for a second, almost afraid that he’d been incorrect with his earlier assessment, before he noticed Vanitas still taking halting, shuddering breaths. Noé wondered if the cold came from the rain, Vanitas’s injuries, or simply from shock, but as long as he was alive, it didn’t really matter.
They still had to get out of the park though, and it would be easier with Vanitas conscious. However, Vanitas, who under normal circumstances awoke from the slightest errant noise, was not waking up any time soon as he didn’t respond to Noé’s taps.
Noé studied him for a second more before sighing.
It would figure that Noé was the one who got slashed in the side and grazed by multiple bullets, all from Vanitas no less, and yet Vanitas somehow ended up the worst off of the two of them. Then again, Vanitas was only human.
Not quite human. Not anymore. Mikhail’s memories whispered to Noé but he ignored them and shoved them back to where all the memories that weren’t his own stayed. The revelations that Mikhail had shown him, that Vanitas wouldn’t want him to know, would have to wait until later.
Noé adjusted Vanitas again before hitching him up so he was cradled by his right arm like a child. The upper half of Vanitas’s body curled over his shoulder, his head falling down next to Noé’s neck, making him feel each exhale as he breathed. He maneuvered his hand to grab onto the Book’s chain and swung it up so it fell into Vanitas’s lap.
Glancing around to ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything, Noé straightened and returned to Domi and Jeanne.
Domi shot a worried glance at Vanitas. “Is he —”
“Just unconscious.” Noé reassured her though part of him was still surprised at the concern Domi had shown Vanitas since she’d freed herself from Mikhail’s control. Before, he’d always gotten the impression that she didn’t like him much.
“Um,” Jeanne’s face began turning red as she looked Vanitas up and down, “you’re injured. Would you like me to take him instead?” She held out her arms.
Noé stared at her for a moment.
In a way, it made sense. Jeanne was definitely strong enough to carry Vanitas, and out of all of them, she was in the best condition. Noé could handle him, even if he wasn’t at 100%, but while he could move his left elbow somewhat, he still hadn’t regained movement in his left hand. That meant that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself or Vanitas, since the latter currently occupied his right hand.
At the same time though…
Noé didn’t want to let go of Vanitas. After everything that had happened tonight, much like with Domi, he didn’t want to let Vanitas out of his sight, much less his grasp, if he could help it. It felt like the moment he let go, Vanitas would slip away into the darkness as well.
Luckily, he had more logical reasons that he could use.
“You’re in the best position to protect us if Mikhail and…Teacher return.” Noé told her. “We should leave you unhampered, just in case.”
Jeanne visibly deflated, but accepted his reasoning. He tilted his head at her. She was acting strange. Normally, she’d want to be as far from Vanitas as possible. He decided to brush it off for now.
Domi gave her an encouraging tap on the shoulder, shot one more glance at him and Vanitas, and then finally led the way out of the amusement park. Jeanne walked next to her, gauntlet out and prepared for anything. Following the two of them, Noé kept his guard up, eyes trailing over the buildings they passed and ears on the alert for anything amiss.
Throughout the entire journey, Vanitas didn’t so much as twitch, his irregular breaths the only reassurance that he was still with them.
Noé was surprised at the ease with which they quickly arrived at Hotel Chouchou. It seemed that they had finally caught a break and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. He didn’t think he could take much more tonight.
Jeanne immediately slipped through the doors to the lobby. Noé wavered though, glancing between the door and the rooftop.
“Planning to part ways here?” Domi startled Noé from his internal debate, making him jump a bit.
“I just…” Noé knew there probably wouldn’t be many people hanging around the lobby at this hour, but he still wanted to avoid anyone else as much as he could. With the state they were in, both he and Vanitas were clearly vulnerable, and he knew that Vanitas would hate for someone to catch wind of it.
Domi nodded, not even waiting for him to come up with an excuse. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?” Her expression broke slightly. “We...we need to talk. About things...we probably should have talked about long ago.”
Noé remembered what Mikhail had said. That she wished…
“Yes,” he replied, subdued, “we probably should.”
Domi smiled at him, leaning up to touch her forehead to his. “Until tomorrow, mon chéri.” With that, she turned on her heels and followed Jeanne inside.
Noé stared after her for a moment, making sure she joined Jeanne, before he shook himself and gathered his resolve. One more push and then they’d be home free.
Even with his own injuries, it wasn’t hard to leap up to the rooftop and walk around to the window of their room. He nudged it open with his foot and sighed in relief as he stepped into the room. He leaned against the window to shut it, eyes wandering across the shadows of the room just in case. Murr looked up from where he’d been sleeping on the desk, but otherwise, the room was empty.
Noé hesitated again before he moved to the bathroom. As much as it would probably be more comfortable for Vanitas to lie on his bed, the two of them were soaked and injured, and it’d be better to clean themselves first before settling in.
Noé finally set Vanitas down on top of the toilet lid and leaned him against the wall.
It struck him that he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed from here.
He knew he had to treat their wounds, but… usually Vanitas was the one who did that. While Noé did know the basics, since coming to Paris, Vanitas was the one to pull out supplies and treat Noé’s injuries all while cursing Noé under his breath. When Noé tried to return the favor, Vanitas practically hissed at him before shutting himself in the bathroom to treat his own wounds.
Vanitas detested doctors, despite supposedly being one. It had annoyed Noé at first, but after the incident in the catacombs, he could understand Vanitas’s reasons for his distrust. It wasn’t normally a major issue as however dubious Vanitas’s claims were, Noé couldn’t deny that he was fairly skilled at treating the both of them.
His father was a doctor. Did he learn these things from him before he was killed? Noé stamped the thought down. It wasn’t even relevant at the moment as treating their injuries fell to Noé.
But…it didn’t feel right to do this while Vanitas was unconscious, especially without his permission. This was Vanitas, who hated being touched out of the blue and who wore his layers of clothes like they were armor. Even Noé, who lived with Vanitas, had never really seen Vanitas fully undressed, but in order to get to his injuries, he would have to.
Noé took a deep breath, closing his eyes to center himself.
First things first. He should probably wash his hands.
It was as Noé turned on the water and set his hands underneath its stream that he fully realized the amount of blood on his hands. The fingers of his right hand were covered in it; blood caught even underneath his nails.
He swallowed and quickly set to washing his hands as best he could.
He’d been aiming for Mikhail’s blade. He’d been trying to get rid of the blade being thrust at Vanitas, who hadn’t even tried to dodge or deflect it, and he wasn’t fully aware of what was happening until his claws suddenly hit flesh as well —
Mikhail rearing back, screaming in agony as he clutched his face — blood streaming down past the poor boy’s hands as he sobbed — Vanitas, eyes as wide as a child’s, curling up on the ground, hands clenched in his hair — What have I done what have I done what have I —
“Noé.”
Noé broke from his reverie at the sound, realizing that the water flowed clean past his fingers. He turned off the water and was reaching for the towel to dry his hands when the word actually registered. “Vanitas!” Relief flooded him as he turned to the other.
Vanitas’s eyes were open, though he hadn’t moved besides that. It was enough for Noé though as he finished drying his hands and hurried over.
“Vanitas, please listen.” He knew he needed to start strong in order to convince him. He crouched down to his level so he could meet his eyes. “I know you don’t like this sort of thing, but we need to treat…your...wounds…” His voice trailed off as he got a good look at him.
At first, Noé had assumed that Vanitas was simply studying him like he was wont to do at times. Now, Vanitas’s gaze stayed on Noé’s face, but that was it. When Noé looked in his eyes, it was like the lamps were lit but no one was home.
Vanitas was awake, but he wasn’t actually conscious.
“Vanitas?” At this point, Noé was willing to take any sign that his partner was still in there. “Vanitas, please…”
A twitch. A slow blink. And then Vanitas’s hands slowly reached up towards Noé’s neck.
Vanitas had just tried to kill him a few hours earlier.
A normal person probably would’ve been more wary of their attempted killer reaching for such a vital spot.
Noé didn’t even flinch.
He didn’t move as Vanitas’s left hand clasped the back of his neck and shoulder, steadying Vanitas as he leaned forward, and he didn’t move as the fingers of Vanitas’s right hand trailed up the side of his neck, two of them coming to rest at the juncture of his head and neck.
His pulse point.
Noé swallowed down the lump building in his throat as he realized what Vanitas was doing.
For a long minute, Vanitas’s eyes didn’t stray from his, even as empty and distant as they were, and his fingers stayed in place. Then Noé realized exactly how tense Vanitas had been when he suddenly relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“Alive.” Vanitas croaked, a ghost of a smile flickering over his lips. “Good.”
Then he was gone again, his eyes fluttering shut and his forehead resting on Noé’s shoulder as his hands slipped away.
Noé stayed there for a moment, fighting back the burning sensation that welled up in his eyes, before he gathered his resolve and made his decision.
Noé leaned Vanitas back against the wall before he stepped out of the bathroom, shrugging off his coat and tossing it on the chair in the corner. He grabbed Vanitas’s medical bag and, after pausing for a second, one of his own shirts as well. Then he turned back into the bathroom.
He shut the door behind him and set his shirt and the bag on the window ledge. Popping open the bag, he retrieved disinfectant, gauze, and bandages, and he set them to the side. Finally, he grabbed several washcloths and put them next to the sink at the ready. He had everything he needed now.
Noé started with the easiest part. Dampening a washcloth, he gently wiped the blood from Vanitas’s face, taking note of the scrapes on it and the cut just over his eye. He followed it with the disinfectant, glad that nothing seemed to be bleeding anymore. The cut was the worst of it, but at his inspection, it didn’t appear to need stitches.
Probably for the best, he decided as he placed a bandage on it, because he was hopeless when it came to sewing in all forms.
Noé ran his fingers over Vanitas’s head as one last check for any swelling bruises, and then he knew he couldn’t put it off anymore.
Vanitas’s coat was easy to slip off, it was always fairly loose on him. Next, off came his ribbon, his vest, and his shirt, leaving his torso bear.
Noé ignored the scars. He’d known they were there, even before Mikhail’s memories, from the brief glimpses he’d seen from them and the implications of Dr. Moreau’s words.
They weren’t as important as the scrapes and bruises littered across his skin. Noé winced at the particularly lurid bruise blossoming over Vanitas’s ribs. Luckily, the tips of his fingers felt nothing amiss as they prodded them, though Vanitas’s breathing hitched at the contact. It seemed like nothing was broken but Vanitas could check more thoroughly when he woke up. Instead, he focused on washing away the blood and bandaging whatever wounds needed it on both his front and back.
Noé did hesitate when it came to Vanitas’s gloves.
After that moment of uncertainty though, he pulled down the left one to treat the injuries beneath before setting it back in place, and then he merely wiped down the outside of the right glove with disinfectant. If the blood could seep out one way, surely the disinfectant could get to the wounds from the other way.
But he didn’t dare remove Vanitas’s right glove. Not while knowing what lay beneath it and how much Vanitas hated it to be seen.
With the top half of Vanitas’s body done, Noé slipped his own shirt onto him to cover him up. It was rather large on Vanitas, the ends of the sleeves completely covering his hands and hem on the bottom falling to mid-thigh, but the looser fit wouldn’t aggravate his wounds.
Now for the bottom half…
Noé removed Vanitas’s ribbon and belt first, along with the pouches, book holster, and daggers attached to them. He side-eyed the daggers, knowing that at least one of them still had his blood on it and needed to be cleaned, but Vanitas could deal with that later. He set the Book on top of the pile for the moment.
He took off Vanitas’s spats and boots, the left one with more difficulty than the right. It was only once he’d pulled down Vanitas’s pants that he saw why. In addition to the regular scrapes and bruises, Vanitas’s ankle was badly swollen.
Noé bit his lip. He couldn’t tell how badly damaged it was through the swelling. He almost wanted to seek out Domi for some ice for it, but he knew she and Jeanne had probably crashed for the night. That didn’t stop him from fretting as he wrapped the ankle up and then finished up with the rest of Vanitas’s injuries.
With the last bandage tied or stuck in place, Noé gave Vanitas one last look over before picking him up again and placing him in the bed. He elevated the swollen ankle and added a pillow to help Vanitas sit up so he could breathe more easily. Then he went to retrieve the Book and placed it on the bedside table. Vanitas always wanted to keep his Book close.
And after seeing what the Book could cause in misguided and unpracticed hands, Noé couldn’t blame Vanitas.
With that settled, there was no more Noé could do for Vanitas.
He took a step back and studied his partner for a long minute. He knew he should tend to his own injuries, though he’d started manipulating his own formula the moment things calmed down to mitigate the worst of the damage, but part of him needed this. He needed to see that Vanitas was all right, even though he didn’t fully know why.
Except for when he was checking his ribs, Vanitas hadn’t so much as twitched from him taking care of his wounds. Noé knew that Vanitas had a ridiculous level of pain tolerance, able to keep going despite his injuries until his body literally collapsed on him, but it worried him all the same. Especially since he had an even better idea of how that tolerance was gained.
And now…
Logically, Noé knew that Vanitas was somewhat smaller than him. He loomed over his partner with the advantage of his height and it was fairly easy for him to pick up the other as well. Vanitas often took advantage of his slighter build to slip away into the night, easily navigating spaces and alleyways that Noé struggled with.
However, Vanitas rarely seemed small. The confident and bold front that Vanitas usually put on wouldn’t allow for it.
There were instances that Noé had noticed it before though.
When Vanitas’s back pressed against his after the night in the catacombs, practically falling asleep right there as Noé was able to feel how much smaller the other was in comparison to him as he supported his weight. When Vanitas sat at that table with Roland, admitting that someone falling in love with him was basically impossible to him. Earlier, when Vanitas threw down his blade and fell upon his chest, sobbing until he literally fainted in his arms.
And now, Vanitas in his shirt and covered in bandages and bruises, practically dead to the world. He looked more fragile and vulnerable than Noé had ever seen him before.
But still alive.
Noé reached out and gently brushed aside the hair that had fallen in Vanitas’s face.
They’d both made mistakes tonight.
But they were alive and together. They were safe for now.
And that was enough for Noé to hope that they could rebuild what they’d broken.
As consciousness trickled back in, Vanitas became aware that everything hurt.
It wasn’t the first time he’d woken with pain permeating all the way to his bones and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but that never made it any easier.
He barely bit back a groan as he scrambled to remember what happened this time.
Images slowly filtered back in — Dominique de Sade, Mikhail, the Shapeless One, Noé —
Noé!
Vanitas’s eyes shot open as he abruptly sat up. The sudden movement strained something in his chest as he erupted into a fit of coughs.
“Vanitas!”
He distantly registered his name being called, which was the only warning he got before a warm, hesitant hand helped him sit up further. As Vanitas got his breathing back under control, said hand disappeared though it reappeared before his watering eyes with a glass of water.
Vanitas ignored the shaking in his hands, though he did notice that they were thankfully still covered by his usual gloves, to take the water and he drained it in less than a minute. He gasped afterward, but at least he could breathe regularly around the pain in his ribs.
“Better?” Noé asked, because of course it was Noé by his side. Who else could it have been?
Vanitas grunted in response, his eyes skittering over Noé as he handed back the glass.
He didn’t know how to look at him now, in the light of day and the aftermath of the night. How could he look at Noé after the things he’d said? How could he look at him after he’d tried to kill him? How did he even have the right to after he messed things up like usual?
And yet, he still found his gaze drawn to him the moment Noé turned to take the glass back to the bathroom.
Noé had cleaned up well, bandages covering up the last remnants of injuries on his face. He’d somehow procured another sling, his immobile hand cradled in it once more. Otherwise, Noé looked fine, no other signs of the wounds that no doubt lay under his pristine clothes. If Vanitas didn’t know better, he would assume that it was the morning after dealing with another curse bearer, even though it most certainly was not.
That was the moment Vanitas realized that other than his gloves, he was not wearing his own clothes.
Vanitas flinched, drawing the blankets tighter over him, and his mind whirled.
How could he have been so out of it that he didn’t even notice his clothes being removed? Who had seen him? What had happened? What —
“Vanitas.” Noé cut through the whirlwind and he jerked back as he looked up at him. Noé’s face scrunched slightly as he took in his state before he said, “I had to take off your clothes to treat your injuries. No one saw besides me.”
It was shocking how his heart immediately began to calm at Noé’s words.
When Jeanne had stripped him in that cabin in Gévaudan, he hadn’t relaxed for a second despite the poison and fever draining his strength. He’d been exposed in a way he hated, his scars on display, and everything was made harder as his mind was addled from the fever. Despite the fact that he was apparently in love with her, he’d hated the entire experience.
But somehow he was surprisingly okay with Noé having seen him.
Maybe it was because Noé already knew where most of the scars came from. Maybe it was because he knew Noé wouldn’t judge him or pity him for them. Maybe it was because Noé might’ve actually seen him get some of them from Mikhail’s memories.
Maybe it was because it was simply Noé.
Even in that case though, he didn’t want Noé to look at —
“I didn’t remove your right glove at all though.” Noé looked away and Vanitas became aware that he was clutching his right arm, right over the epicenter of Luna’s Mark. “So you’ll have to do that yourself.”
Vanitas stared at him. He couldn’t help it.
It was uncanny how Noé just seemed to know these sorts of things about him. He never had to tell Noé things half the time. He just knew and understood without him having to say the words.
Vanitas glanced away. “I see…” He mumbled.
He didn’t think he could get away without saying anything this time though.
Silence fell between them. Vanitas didn’t know how to even begin the conversation that was surely coming. He didn’t know how to proceed from here.
Vanitas hadn’t let someone get this close to him since Luna and Mikhail, not even Jeanne. And even then, they had been family.
He wasn’t sure how to handle a… Companion? Friend? Partner?
He’d lied about them being no more than strangers, but he wasn’t sure how to label their relationship.
Luckily, as per usual with this sort of emotional thing, Noé made the first move.
“I’m sorry.” Noé sat down on the edge of the bed, still not looking at him. Part of Vanitas was glad that this seemed just as awkward for him. “I shouldn’t have attacked you or tried to drink your blood without permission. I-I know I scared you, and…” He fidgeted, fingers tugging at his sling. “If I had thought about it more, you probably could’ve used your Book to counter whatever Mikhail had done.”
With that said, Noé sighed, slumping over slightly.
Vanitas studied his back before giving a sigh of his own. “You’re not the only one to blame. I wasn’t thinking very clearly either.” He fell back against his pile of pillows, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Vanitas was nothing more than a collection of scars, both physical and mental. Some of his wounds healed better than others, and some of them just barely did.
Mikhail and Luna had never healed all that well, and when Mikhail’s name had been invoked, his corresponding wound had ripped open to bleed all over everything Vanitas had built for himself. He had barely been able to comprehend that his little brother was alive, but to realize that he’d set up and that he targeted Noé, to guess what his ultimate goal was, it had been overwhelming.
At the time, Vanitas’s mind had turned to static as he realized what he might have to do, whether he wanted to or not. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else he could do except hope that he could push Noé away.
He’d also hoped Dante’s gun might offer some distance when it came down to the wire but even that failed.
Vanitas’s hand dropped. “I…shouldn’t have said those things about Dominique. Or those things about us.” He closed his eyes as he heard Noé’s breath hitch. “I know that wasn’t…right.”
It had been a last ditch effort: a way to make Noé hate him and withdraw. The things about Dominique had been bad enough, but denying everything that had grown between him and Noé had been like stabbing himself with each word while wounding Noé as well.
He should’ve known it wouldn’t work. Noé always seemed to see right through his ploys, and this time had been no different in the end. Still, Noé’s gutted expression would haunt him.
Of course, once the hypnotic suggestion kicked in, his memories were a bit fuzzy as his mind had been overruled with the impulse he’d implanted. Anything and everything else was shut behind a wall, only nearly pushing through in the worst moments and then finally destroying it and the hypnosis as he and Noé fell together.
And yet despite the guilt he felt, he couldn’t actually bring himself to say sorry like Noé could.
Admitting where he was in the wrong was the least he could do.
He heard Noé shift to look at him, but he didn’t open his eyes just yet. “Vanitas?” He hummed to indicate he was listening. “When we were…fighting…you seemed…different.”
Of course Noé had noticed that.
But how to explain it?
Because he couldn’t offer apologies, but he could offer explanations.
“When you were younger,” Vanitas began, “you were warned about the Vampire of the Blue Moon, yes?”
He opened his eyes to see Noé frowning at him, confusion in his eyes. Still, Noé humored him, nodding. “Yes.”
“The Vampire of the Blue Moon warned me about the Archivistes.” Vanitas paused as Noé flinched and his eyes widened. He closed his own eyes again. “Well, anyone who could take my memories really, but the Archivistes especially.” He wryly chuckled. “Your clan also has quite the reputation.”
Vanitas took a deep breath before he re-opened his eyes. “I know things. Things that in the wrong hands could prove disastrous. I-” He gulped, his hand unwittingly coming up to cover his face. “I promised. I promised that I would never let anyone take my memories. I wouldn’t let anyone find out the truth.”
He let that sink in a moment before he continued. “I placed a powerful hypnosis on myself.” He admitted. “To ensure no one would find out. So that if anyone or anything tried to take my memories…” Vanitas took another shuddering breath. “I would kill them.”
Silence.
Well, now Noé knew.
Now he knew it was way too dangerous to associate himself with Vanitas. That no matter how much either of them should want it, Noé could never drink Vanitas’s blood. That no matter what he’d said before, Noé was better off —
“But you didn’t.”
Vanitas blinked and peered up at Noé through his fingers and bangs. “What?”
Noé smiled slightly at him. “You didn’t kill me.”
Vanitas stared and then huffed out a small laugh. “No, I suppose I didn’t.” He dragged his hand down his face before it settled on his lap.
The silence this time wasn’t nearly as heavy, but Vanitas knew it wasn’t over. Still, he relaxed while he still could as Noé gathered his thoughts.
“Wait.” There it was. “If I can’t drink from you because of what you know, then with Mikhail —”
“Mikhail doesn’t know.” Vanitas could already guess the follow-up question. “Mikhail never cared about this sort of thing. And there were several things that Lu - that the Vampire of the Blue Moon didn’t even try to teach him.” He snorted. “Not that it would have done much good. You always say that I don’t listen and do what I want, but Mikhail’s always been much worse than me at that. He’ll ignore what’s right in front of his nose to the point of delusion.”
Vanitas loved and cared for Mikhail, but he was well aware of his brother’s faults. He knew that some might try to say that Mikhail learned such behaviors from Vanitas himself, but the boy had already been like that when they met. Even after hearing the screams, Mikhail had actually thought things would be perfectly fine in Moreau’s lab until he was the one on the table.
Vanitas was well-versed in denial and in fudging the details so only he could see the full picture, but even he would never allow himself such delusional fantasies.
Part of Vanitas expected some retort, but Noé was strangely silent. He peeked up at him, noting the contemplative look on his face even though the other wasn’t facing him. He allowed it for another minute, because he had some questions of his own.
“Speaking of Mikhail,” Vanitas ignored the way Noé tensed, “what did he show you?”
Vanitas glanced down to see Noé’s hand clutch the blankets on the bed. He waited, for once content to be patient.
“I saw…” Noé took a shuddering breath of his own. “I saw him after being rescued by the chasseurs and then taken by Moreau. I saw your first meeting and bits and pieces of your time with Moreau.”
If Noé clenched his hand any harder, he was going to start ripping through the blankets. Vanitas didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but clearly it hadn’t been long enough for Noé to come to terms with those memories. He tried to quell his own panic at the thought of what had been done to them.
“I saw what his final experiment for you both was.”
Vanitas froze. Did that mean he knew…
“And I saw Luna rescue you both.”
Most of the time, Vanitas couldn’t bring himself to say her name. Around most vampires, he didn’t even want to say it. They didn’t deserve to hear the name she had chosen for herself, not the one foisted upon her. So he usually referred to her by her title, the Vampire of the Blue Moon.
To hear Noé say her name, without the derision or hatred any other vampire would have, was surreal. To know that someone else besides him and Mikhail knew her name was just as strange.
Still, like everything else when it came to Noé, Vanitas was surprisingly all right with this.
“I saw that first night and day with her as well.” Noé was fully turned away now and it took Vanitas a moment to realize why that may be, even before Noé continued with, “It was…fairly surprising. In multiple ways.”
What had happened that first night and day slammed into Vanitas like a train.
Noé had probably seen Vanitas call Luna mother, cry like a baby, and tell her all sorts of things about his past that he’d barely scratched the surface of with Noé. He had deliberately told Mikhail to forget all that! And he’d shown Noé of all people!
Why did this feel like more of a betrayal than Mikhail actually trying to kill him?
Vanitas wanted to bury himself in blankets and never emerge again, but unfortunately, Noé was still talking.
“After that, it was glimpses of the three of you together, traveling, researching, living together…” Noé’s voice trailed off and Vanitas blinked at his sudden hesitation. “I know what you three were searching for, why you needed to find answers sooner rather than later, and…
“I know you had no intention of ever becoming Kin of the Blue Moon.”
Ah.
Vanitas could see how that would be a shock.
“Vanitas… If you didn’t want to become kin, then why —”
“I can’t talk about it.” Vanitas cut him off, his heart seizing in his chest as those memories rose to the surface.
Noé stiffened. “Because of what you know, or…” He inquired.
“Yes, and no.” Vanitas admitted, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. “It’s - it’s a factor, but also I just - I just can’t.”
He couldn’t talk about it. The very thought made him want to throw up… The memories of that day…
Luna’s eyes as wide as the moon as he struck the final blow, even though she knew it was coming — Mikhail wailing somewhere behind him — Luna’s Mark glowing on his wrist and pulsing in time with his heartbeat — blue blood coating his hands as he clutched the remnants of her clothes — warmth welling up in his eyes but he couldn’t let the tears fall, not here, not now, he didn’t have the right to cry about this —
“In that case,” Noé’s voice broke him out of his spiral and Vanitas pulled his hand away to see Noé’s head tilted in contemplation, “do you know why Luna was so reluctant to make either of you kin in the first place? I mean, if it would save your lives…”
Vanitas sighed. It was a valid question. Whatever snippets of their lives together he’d seen, it would have been obvious how Luna cared for the two of them. Unfortunately, life wasn’t that simple. “Sometimes solving one problem just creates more.”
Noé turned back to him. “What does that mean?”
Vanitas glanced away. “There are…potential consequences to becoming Kin of the Blue Moon. You saw one of them when Mikhail lost control, but that’s probably the most extreme case.”
It was Noé’s turn to freeze. He stared at Vanitas, his face blank. “What…do you mean by that?” He asked slowly.
Vanitas thought of how to answer. Or more like, how much to answer that question.
This was very much connected to things that he couldn’t talk about, but in a way, it was merely the tip of the iceberg. Besides, Mikhail was well aware of this aspect and he wouldn’t be surprised if the Shapeless One was as well.
He held up his right hand.
“Vanitas, what —” Noé’s latest question was cut off as Vanitas slowly removed his glove. Noé gasped as Luna’s Mark was fully revealed.
There’s a short pause as both of them looked at the Mark.
Noé broke the silence.
“Vanitas, why is the Mark bigger?”
To Vanitas, the Mark didn’t look much different than it did after the events of Gévaudan. Despite the number of times he utilized the Book at the amusement park, at that level the effects were negligible.
But Noé last saw his Mark at the Bal Masque, and since then…
Well, the difference was stark.
Vanitas took a deep breath before he explained. “The more we use the power of the Blue Moon, Luna’s power, whether with the Books or otherwise, the more we are rewritten.” He ignored Noé’s sharp inhale at his words, instead turning his hand to examine the cracks that made it appear as if his hand and arm were on the verge of crumbling away. “It’s the price of being her Kin.”
“Rewritten?” Noé sounded so small, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Rewritten into what?”
Vanitas bitterly laughed. “Isn’t that the question?” Unable to bear being exposed any longer, he grabbed his glove and pulled it over the Mark once more.
“Do you say that because you don’t know or because it’s part of what you can’t say?” Noé snapped.
Vanitas flinched and looked at him, taking in his tense form and flashing eyes.
The truth of the matter was that it was a little bit of both. However, he didn’t know how to say that in a way that Noé would actually accept. So he said nothing, looking down as he adjusted his gloves to avoid the other’s gaze, and let Noé draw his own conclusions.
He halted as a warm brown hand entered his vision and clasped his hand.
“Vanitas…”
Vanitas tilted his head up to find Noé right there in his space, worry filled eyes meeting his own.
“Vanitas…” Noé said again, his voice trembling. “Is this killing you?”
Vanitas blinked. “Does it really matter?” He wondered out loud. “Either I’ll die or become something else. Either way —” he shifted and turned away “— the me before you will be gone.”
He didn’t look but he could feel the way Noé’s expression fell further at that. “Then…maybe…”
“Noé…” Vanitas closed his eyes against the inevitable. “It’s a bit too late for that sort of talk.”
Marks couldn’t be removed so easily once given.
In the end, the Mark was nothing more than a way to buy more time. After all, once you turn an hourglass, you can’t stop the sand from falling. Sure, you can turn it on its side to halt its progression, but eventually, you have to set it back up to go one way or the other.
Vanitas accepted that for the most part. After all, he’s the one who chose to use the power of the Blue Moon, regardless of the fact that it brought him closer and closer to his end.
Maybe not the best decision in the world, but at least it was his decision to make.
Still, this conversation was far surpassing his capacity for emotions for the day.
“On a different note,” Vanitas switched tracks, blinking his eyes open, “it seems that things are a bit more complicated than I originally thought.” He mentally reviewed the events of the night with a more objective look. “I certainly didn’t anticipate any of this happening.”
Noé wasn’t happy with him, his frown indicating that this conversation was not over but he would drop it for now. He adjusted himself so he was sitting more comfortably next to Vanitas. “Yes, I… I never expected…” He fell quiet, probably pondering his Teacher’s involvement in all of this.
Vanitas spared him a glance before looking away again. “I know he’s the one who sent you to study the Book in the first place.” Something in his guts squirmed at the thought. “Given the circumstances, I’d understand if you—”
“Vanitas.” Noé said seriously, and his tone prompted Vanitas to gaze at him once more. There was that same glint in his eye as when they’d been falling together, Vanitas’s blade still held aloft. “I already told you that I won’t set you free.”
I won’t leave you alone.
“Is it really so hard to believe I meant that?”
Those close to him either died or grew to hate him when they saw how he really was. Luna and Mikhail were the clearest examples of it, but they weren’t the only ones. It was better to just keep everyone away in the first place. He did everything he could to ensure that.
But Noé didn’t accept that, couldn’t accept it. He always saw through Vanitas’s pretensions and lies, even if he didn’t understand the reasoning behindthem. Even after everything, even after the worst happened, he was still here.
“As long as we’re together, hm? Isn’t that what you once said?” Vanitas sighed, suddenly feeling tired despite having just woken up.
Noé chuckled. “That’s right.”
Vanitas couldn’t make him go away because he patently refused to leave.
And Vanitas couldn’t kill him.
“Tch!” Vanitas scoffed, but he let his head lean on Noé’s shoulder. “Do as you like.”
He sensed Noé’s smile. “I will!” Noé leaned right back, his warmth a gentle comfort by his side.
Vanitas knew that there was much to discuss. Even he couldn’t avoid it due to the revelations of both Mikhail and the Shapeless One. In a single night, so much had changed, as was often the case in Vanitas’s experience.
Everything they knew had been shaken to its very foundation, collapsed around them.
But together, perhaps, they could rebuild.