Summary: M-21 has fitful dreams one night.

Set between season one and two.

Oh, look, this time it's Kai's fault. *snerk*

Clear

By Dark Ice Dragon

M-21 jerked awake, his chest heaving as he tried to calm his whirling thoughts, his eyes and nose telling him one thing while his skin told him something else. He could see the sharp lines of every rock that had buried M-24, Jake's blood permeating every breath he took, but he was in bed (he was in a bed), covered in blankets, his hands clenched into fists on the linen, one thought away from shredding them with his claws.

He closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing but that just made it worse so M-21 flung the blanket off and shoved himself out of bed. Trying to not think about it was useless, so he'd have to do something else instead.

It didn't take long to change out of his nightclothes but when he went downstairs, M-21 slowed when he saw Frankenstein's master in the living room, a teacup in his hand.

He was no longer in the Union, and they had said he was free to stay or leave whenever he wanted to; if he had been at the Union, he would have had to tell at least one person where he was going and what he was doing, but he didn't have to do that here.

Since he didn't have to tell them anything, M-21 slipped his coat on and left.

The cool, crisp night air helped clear M-21's head and he gazed down at the cars caught at the traffic lights, the groups of people clustered at a restaurant window. It didn't chase his thoughts away fully (not when he was used to M-24's presence next to him on the rooftops, not when he was still expecting to hear M-24's voice, asking him what was bothering him), but it was enough.

M-21 wasn't sure how long he'd been out but he turned away, going back to the house.

M-21 did his best to come in quietly, but the living room lights were still on and he frowned when he left the entranceway, seeing Frankenstein's master still sitting on the sofa, a mug in front of him on the table.

Except the teacup was still in his hand, wisps of steam rising from it.

"It's for you," he said, and M-21 blinked. For him…? Why? "The children have told me that drinking hot chocolate can help them to sleep."

M-21 eyed the mug and its dark contents. What helped unmodified humans didn't always work the same with him. Had drugs been put into it? He didn't think he would give him a drugged drink (they had had plenty of opportunities already to do that, and once M-21 had gotten used to the taste of Frankenstein's cooking he realised just how bland the food he'd used to have was, and the taste wasn't because Frankenstein was trying to slip in something), so he sat at the head of the table and picked the mug up.

The ceramic was still warm and M-21 could smell something that made him want to sneeze, but other than that… He sipped, blinking at the overwhelming sweetness, not expecting it would actually taste like watered down melted chocolate. He waited a few seconds, just in case he reacted to anything, but when nothing happened, he took another sip.

He had only drank from his cup twice by the time M-21 finished his drink and M-21 was surprised at how drowsy he was feeling. Maybe there was something about drinking it. They hadn't talked in that time –not that M-21 had expected them to- but the atmosphere hadn't been tense.

After cleaning his cup, M-21 was just about to leave for his bedroom when he heard, "Goodnight."

Uh. "Night."

Frankenstein's master didn't say anything else after that so M-21 left.

When M-21 got into his bed, he was only there for a minute before drifting off to sleep.

Yeah, Rai got Frankenstein to make the hot chocolate. XD