Not Alone
He wakes, shuddering, from a nightmare so intense it might have been a memory rather than a dream. Might have been, except for the rasping breaths to one side that reveal the lie.
Rasping breaths that hitch and stutter as sharply as his own, signaling the transition from dreaming to wakefulness. He wonders if his companions had nightmares too.
He hears a shift, a light-footed movement. Someone who seems to be breathing easier than he is. "M-21?"
"Yeah." The low voice is reassuring. "I'm awake."
"Me too." Takeo's reassurance comes a moment later.
"Good." He forces a rough laugh, swipes a hand over his sweat-damp face. He wants to talk, but at the same time he doesn't. None of them like to talk about their nightmares, especially not these days. The dreams they share from their days in the Union are bad enough.
The nightmares brought on by the Dark Spear are worse. He scrubs his face again, trying to wipe away images of his companions, his friends, the children he watches over daily, all lying in pools of blood and gore while he stands over them.
All lying pale and gaunt and drained of life, screaming as their essences are sucked into his dark-enhanced weapons.
He sighs, looking for a way to break the pall, the heavy weight of darkness and dreams that lies over them all. Even M-21, though he's had the werewolf longer, and he's more used to things like this.
There won't be any more sleep tonight. But no sooner does he think that, then a knock sounds on the door. Two seconds later it creaks open, revealing a familiar silhouette. Long hair and broad shoulders. The light comes up to half strength, revealing blue eyes, and hands bearing a tray full of tea things.
Right. He and Takeo slept on their beds in the lab, so they could be monitored. The assimilation process is a lengthy, difficult one, and Frankenstein is insistent on keeping an eye on them. M-21 was keeping them company, because his wolf nature prefers having people around. And because it's habit and tradition for all of them, to stand by their friends after something like this.
He joins the other two in sitting up. "Boss. Didn't know you were still awake."
"Of course I was." Frankenstein smiles and moves to set the tea tray on a low table. He moved it in here when Raizel started spending more time in the lab.
There's three cups on the tray. And the teapot is steaming. The tea is freshly brewed. He watches, along with the other two, as Frankenstein pours out three cups. Sugar in his. A little cream in M-21's. Takeo likes his black and strong. Frankenstein hands them all their tea, then steps back.
M-21 asks the question they all want an answer to. "How'd you know?"
Frankenstein offers him a small smile. "I do pay attention to details. Of course I know how you like your tea."
"Not that." M-21 shakes his head, refusing the evasion.
"Because I do." Frankenstein sighs. "I have some experience with what Tao and Takeo are going through, and I can surmise what your previous relationships, as well as the greater influence of your werewolf powers, will encourage in your behavior."
Right. The Boss has had the Dark Spear for a long time. For even longer than he's known Raizel. Of course he knows how it screws with their heads.
He wonders if Frankenstein had nightmares. What they were about, in that time before he met Raizel. He doesn't really have to ask what might trouble Frankenstein's sleep now. Any idiot can see the answer to that in the way he looks at the man he calls 'Master'.
In a normal situation, he'd probably keep his mouth shut. But this isn't normal. "Boss...about the Dark Spear..."
"Yes?" Frankenstein turns to him with a patient expression, but there are shadows in his eyes.
Shadows they caused. He knows it, because he saw those shadows when Frankenstein agreed to give them the Dark Spear's power. And he knows in that instant that Frankenstein will answer any question he asks, no matter how personal or painful.
"Did you have trouble sleeping after? Cause this guy seems to like messing with my dreams." He smirks with the second half of the question, trying to inject some levity into a query that's far from funny.
"Yes. Of course I did." Frankenstein's tone is casual, like he's telling them he cleaned the lab. But there's nothing casual about the set of his shoulders.
"How'd you get over it?" Takeo asks this one, solemn and quiet.
"I didn't." The words are soft. "After I started working for Master Raizel, he discovered my powers and the...side effects. When he realized that I couldn't control them, he sealed the Dark Spear. He left me enough power to fight and defend myself, but he sealed the voices of the Dark Spear and their influence."
It makes sense. In a manner of speaking. "But...we've seen you use it..." Observation and question trail off, because he's not sure what he wants to ask. "And if he was asleep for 800 years..." That question trails off too.
"My power was sealed while he slept. After...he released the seal on my powers during our initial combats with the Union. During my confrontation with Rael Kertia, the Dark Spear was fully awakened." His tone is still casual, but Frankenstein's hands are restless, a sign of inner disquiet that they've only learned to spot through close association.
He could ask if Frankenstein has nightmares now. But he doesn't need to. The answer is there, in those lightly tapping fingers. Like the pain he warned them would come with use of the Dark Spear, the torment that it's possession brings, nightmares are something Frankenstein has close and recent experience with.
"Any advice?" M-21 breaks the painful silence. Frankenstein relaxes, because this is a question that requires less vulnerability to answer. That's probably why M-21 asked it.
"As you gain control, they should diminish. However, you do have a great advantage." Frankenstein gestures. "You have each other."
Cold seeps through him at the implications of the statement.
Who did Frankenstein have, wrestling with the dark powers that continuously attempt to devour him? Who helped him through his nightmare battles with the demon inside him?
By his own account, he was mostly alone until he met Raizel.
Raizel. In a flash of insight, he understands who helps Frankenstein now. He wonders if the Noblesse helped his servant all those long years ago. Then he remembers. Of course he did. Didn't Frankenstein just say Raizel sealed his power, so he wouldn't have to endure the voices whispering in his head?
Somehow, it's comforting to know that Frankenstein didn't have to suffer 800 years of the Dark Spear trying to twist his thoughts and devour his soul.
Still...he watches Frankenstein gather up the empty teacups, cleaning up with his usual brisk efficiency. He thinks about the day Frankenstein agreed to give them the Dark Spear, and everything he told them would follow the claiming of that power.
Frankenstein's always been about full disclosure. He never performs experiments without asking, never does a procedure without giving them all the data and information he has on it before-hand. If an emergency forces his hand, he'll give them a detailed accounting after. It's the code he lives by, and one they're all grateful for.
He remembers the graphic description of the battle they'd have to face, to assert their control over the Dark Spear initially. He remembers how Frankenstein described the pain that using the Dark Spear would bring. How it might conflict with the powers they already possess. How it would interact with the powers born in them by the bond that was forged when Raizel cast the Awakening on them.
Things that Frankenstein himself had already endured. He's always respected his Boss, but knowing what he went through to become the man he is today...he's awed by Frankenstein's iron will. And that it can be tempered by such love, such passion and compassion...well, he doesn't know how his Boss does it. He really doesn't.
Except that he does. Hasn't Frankenstein just told them?
He's not alone. Not now that he has Raizel.
The hiss of the door alerts him that Frankenstein is leaving. He probably told them good night, but he was too lost in thought to respond.
He looks at the other two, still sitting up in their beds. These are just basic hospital beds, really. They're movable. He grins at M-21. "Puppy pile?"
M-21 shrugs off the pun on his wolf nature like he's heard it a thousand times before (which he has). "Sure."
It takes two minutes to shove the beds together. They don't have rails, so that's one problem avoided. And Frankenstein knows they sometimes crowd together after a trying experiment. It's why these beds have snaps to fasten them together, and why all of them have queen beds upstairs. Five minutes after the boss leaves, they're sprawled together on the now connected mattress.
M-21 gets the lights. That's his job, since he's acquired permanent night vision along with the rest of his werewolf powers. Then they're all together, shoving pillows and blankets this way and that until they can all get comfortable.
He's in the middle. Mostly because he can actually tolerate it. He's more tactile than M-21 and Takeo are. He doesn't mind being squished. In fact, right now, he kind of likes it. It's a nice reminder.
He's not alone. The Dark Spear might be in his head, but these guys, his companions, they're in his heart. And he knows that's enough. Enough to drive the nightmares back. Enough to make the nights bearable, even when they Dark Spear roars and tries to claim him.
He's not alone. They're not alone. And he's never been more grateful for that.
Author's Note: Been bouncing around in my head for a while, but it finally settled into a story and agreed to be written.