Disclaimer: I don't own Blood+.
Claimer: This story is mine.
This story takes place sometime after Charles is removed from the line of chevaliers, roughly a year after he meets Van – a glance at how their relationship was in the beginning.
For Black Maya, because she loves the pairing as much as I do. :)
Never Alone
"I heard humans are terrified of being alone," Solomon remarked, smirking lazily as he regarded the man before him.
"Are you, Van?"
The old woman was in tears as she accepted the medicine from the head scientist of the Cinq Fleches, clutching a crumpled handkerchief to her chest. "T-Thank you s-so much," she stuttered, holding onto the prescription as if her life depended on it.
And in a way perhaps it did, Van Argiano mused, watching the woman wipe away her tears furiously. She looked like she was doing her utmost to calm herself down, but was failing terribly. "I-I'm sorry," she apologized, her shoulders trembling a little, "b-but it's just t-that… my son – my son is the only one I have left in the world and – " at this her eyes welled up again " – I really d-don't know w-what I'll do… if h-he d-dies…" The words were followed by a pitiful moan, which the person beside Van was quick to silence with reassuring words.
"I'm sure he'll be all right, madam. Just make sure he takes the prescribed medicine from the Cinq Fleches, as we've instructed," Solomon Goldsmith said smoothly, a small smile that was deceitfully comforting gracing his lips. It took only a short moment for the words to work their magic, and Van found himself watching the old woman retreat to her humble home in the village, still crying but looking visibly less hysterical.
Solomon clicked his tongue as his gaze followed the woman, putting his hands in his pockets. "Humans are such pitiful creatures," he said coldly, his mask of sympathy swiftly replaced by an expression of distaste as he spoke. He then shot a glance at Van, and grinned. "No offense, of course."
"None taken," Van simply said, before turning on his heel to the awaiting chopper that would take them back to the mansion. The distribution of the drug for the Delta 67 Project was finally finished, and all that was left was to see the results and analyze them.
"You don't even feel the slightest guilty," Solomon teased, once the chopper had already taken off. "That mother said that her son was the only thing that she had in the world, but you gave her the drug regardless."
"I'm a scientist, Solomon," Van said matter-of-factly, his expression remaining blank as he studied the charts in his folder. "I perform an experiment, collect data, and analyze them. That's all there is to it."
Solomon chuckled. "To say something like that, as if you're not a human being yourself," he said, turning his head so he could look at the ocean below them. "That's so cold."
Van made no comment on this, not in the mood for Solomon's usual teasing. Instead he buried himself in his work, trying to accomplish as much as he could during the short travel. The trip back to the mansion would take barely an hour using the dirt road, but Van had a schedule to follow, and he had to be back to overlook the other experiment he had left to finish the drug distribution.
It was around twenty minutes later when they finally reached the manor that served as the Cinq Fleches headquarters in Vietnam. Van quickly alighted, firing rapid questions to the men that were there to greet him and Solomon. "Is the experiment done?" he asked as they made their way to the basement of the grand residence, where the laboratory was situated.
"It's almost finished, Sir. We got interesting results, and we decided to run another experiment just to authenticate them," one of the men said, handing Van more charts and data that he could look into.
Van accepted them without a word, vaguely aware of Solomon's observing stare from behind him. The two of them proceeded to descend another level, and Van glanced over to the chevalier. "Spit it out," he said, and watched as Solomon raised both hands in amused surrender.
"I was just thinking how you're so different from other humans I've met," Solomon said, falling into step with him as they walked out of the elevator and made their way to the main hallway underground. "So unemotional, so unfeeling… so rational," he enumerated, unmindful of the fact that Van didn't seem to be listening. "Are you sure you're human, Van?"
Van cracked a wry smirk, pushing his glasses up his nose. "What a silly question, Solomon. Of course I am," he said.
"But I always hear that human beings have at least some compassion," Solomon pointed out, a hint of wonder in his voice. "I'm just curious. Didn't you feel any sympathy toward the woman? Even just a little bit?"
Van gave a slight shake of his head, Solomon's questions starting to sound ridiculous to him. He knew that the chevalier had lost the feeling of being a human a very long time ago, but that he would be asking Van about trivial things such as compassion and sympathy was simply silly. They had worked in the Cinq Fleches together for several years now, and Solomon should at least know that Van was above trifling human emotions.
"Not at all, no," Van replied briefly, knowing that he was telling the truth. There was nothing in place of the emotions that he should have felt toward the woman, or anyone else; and there was only emptiness and indifference where his heart should be.
He smirked at this little realization, throwing a glance at the chevalier. "Did you know, Solomon?" he said instead, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes tugging on his lips. "Humans are terrified of being alone. I'm being kind by giving them the chance to die together."
An expression of dark amusement graced Solomon's soft features, and he smirked. "Kind, huh," he repeated, just as they trudged the glass bridge leading to the main laboratory. "That's an interesting way to put it."
"It's the truth," Van said, giving a nonchalant shrug as he swiped his card to open the door to the control room. The sliding glass door soon opened, and the two of them stepped in, greeted by uniformed scientists scattered all over. All of them were focused on the rapid numbers flashing on their computer, seemingly tense with excitement.
One of the scientists approached Van and Solomon, making a quick rundown of the latest development that had occurred during the time that they were gone. Van was nodding barely a minute later, firing several orders. "I'm going down to take a look at things myself," he said, gesturing to the door that led to the lower ground floor, where the experiment was being held. "Are you coming?"
Solomon shrugged, and the two of them made their way down. Far ahead, the glass hallway continued almost endlessly, and Van narrowed his eyes. The results that the other scientists had given him were very promising, but he couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that told him something was wrong, like the numbers were off and something was not making sense –
"So humans are terrified of being alone, huh," Solomon suddenly said, effectively interrupting Van's silent musings.
Van stared over to Solomon, giving a slight quirk of his eyebrow to let the other man know that he was listening. "That's right," he said, wondering what the chevalier could be thinking.
A lazy smirk crept over to Solomon's lips, lingering there as the two of them rounded a corner. "Then are you terrified of being alone, too, Van?"
Van furrowed his eyebrows at the question, feeling slightly surprised despite himself. He hadn't thought that Solomon would use his own words against him –
"AAAHHHHHHH!"
The piercing, strident scream of pain that reverberated from inside the laboratory made both Van and Solomon stop. It was the scientist who snapped out of it first, knowing that scream by heart. Gesturing for the chevalier to remain outside, Van entered the small room where the machines were, the sound of his footsteps making everyone pause.
An expression of hesitation seemed to register in their faces when they saw him, and Van frowned, wondering if something was wrong. "What happened?" he demanded, putting away the documents he was holding in favor of looking at the ongoing experiment. He walked over to where the test subject was seated, narrowing his eyes when he realized that he had stepped on a generous pool of blood on the floor.
"What is this?" he snapped curtly, halting halfway when his gaze found their test subject.
Seated in an automatic makeshift of a restraint chair at the middle of the room was the dark-haired Charles, the master of the mansion itself. The chevalier's wrist was bound to the left armrest with the built-in restraint chain, his bare feet also held in place with automatic cuffs. A series of wires that read his vital statistics were connected to several parts of his body, including his exposed neck and temples. His white lab gown was now deep crimson, his chin trickling with blood. He looked like he was about to fall unconscious any moment soon, his childish face drenched with tears.
The spectacle before his eyes was a sickening mimicry of carnage, and at this Van felt his expression darken.
From where he was seated, Charles lifted his head, the faintest flicker of almost hope in his eyes when he saw his servant amidst his torture. "V-Van…" he whispered hoarsely, a fresh bout of tears spilling from his violet eyes as the words escaped his lips, like doing such a simple gesture hurt him too much. "…m-make it stop, V-Van…"
Van made his way to the chevalier without a word, his patience wearing thin with each passing second. Charles was trembling furiously, looking as if the chains that bound him were the only things that kept him from collapsing altogether. "Let him go," Van ordered as he reached for Charles' pale arm, feeling the boy's tremor under his touch.
There was a pause, until Van realized that no one was acting upon his command. "I told you to let go of him," he repeated, speaking the words deliberately this time. He never should have let a bunch of idiots recommended by Amschel handle the experiments that concerned the boy.
The room was suddenly silent as death, the atmosphere heavy with blood and animosity. It took a while before someone spoke up, but even then the tension only seemed to worsen. Van Argiano was, after all, the head of the Delta 67 Project – someone that the other scientists could only dream of going against. "But we still have to confirm the first results – "
"There is no need for that," Van cut off coldly. "You're gravely mistaken if you think I'll let you proceed with this joke," he said, a look of disgust on his face when his eyes fell on the blood on the floor. "I thought the first thing they taught you in school was to never tamper with the experiment just to get the results that you wanted?"
He picked up the documents they had given him prior, eyeing the data critically. "You upped his dosage without consulting me or noting that in this report," he said, his tone remaining flat and dead despite the growing anger in his chest. Did these people really think they could botch this project up and get away with it? "Do you take me for a fool?"
No one had an answer to this, and Van scoffed. He threw a cold look at the scientist near the controls. "Let go of him," he said, his voice coming out so grim and authoritative that the man had no other choice but to follow.
There was a click, and the sounds of the restraint belts being pull in. It took only a few seconds before Charles was finally unbound, and Van reached out for him, catching the boy in his arms before he could fall down to the puddle of scarlet on the floor.
Charles moaned, his arm hanging uselessly at his side. He coughed, his tears still refusing to cease even as Van held him close.
"I'm here, Lord Charles," Van told him quietly, his own voice sounding strangely kind even to his ears. He leaned over to his little master, wiping the tears away with his hands, unmindful of the unsightly mixture of tears and blood sticking to his skin. He then proceeded to wrap Charles' arm around his neck before scooping up the boy, one arm around the small of the boy's back while the other under his knees.
With the chevalier tucked safely in his arms, Van looked over to each and every scientist inside the room, his eyes and his tone devoid of any emotion. "This experiment is over. You are dismissed, gentlemen."
Without waiting for any response, Van turned on his heel and made his way out of the room, stopping only when he found Solomon waiting expectantly. "I apologize, Solomon, but I have a very important matter to attend to," he said, his expression turning a shade grimmer when he realized that even the chevalier was silent at the sight of a bloody Charles in his arms.
"…I understand," Solomon murmured quietly.
Van gave the man a somber nod before resuming his steps, lowering his gaze to Charles' still half-conscious form. "We'll be there in a moment, Lord Charles," he murmured, and instinctively tightened his grip around the boy.
x ~ x ~ x
It was almost two hours later when Van Argiano finally returned to Charles' room to check on him. After leaving the chevalier under the care of his most trusted servants, Van had stopped by his room to change his bloody clothes, after which he promptly returned to the basement laboratory to round up the guest scientists.
Van was never one to lose his temper over stupid things, but he took his work very seriously, and he put up with no one who was not as dedicated to it as he was. After the botched up experiment earlier this evening, Van wasted no time in making sure that the incompetent bastards were out in the street as soon as he could arrange for it, disregarding the fact that they were all Amschel's scientists from the main headquarters of the Cinq Fleches.
It was a fact that Charles was Diva's favorite chevalier, regardless of whether that title had been taken away from the boy or not. Van was aware of how jealous this made Amschel, but even he couldn't have imagined that the head chevalier of Diva would try to ruin the entire Delta 67 Project by sending his own scientists to kill Charles in the middle of an experiment.
How absolutely foolish, Van thought. He was quite certain that the reason for Charles' relegation from his position as Diva's chevalier was also because of Amschel's jealousy and greed. Diva was Amschel's, and the man was simply too selfish to let anyone else to get close to the blue-eyed chiropteran queen, whether it was a human being or a fellow chevalier.
Van stopped in front of the door at the end of the hallway, giving a warning knock before letting himself in.
" – I said don't touch me!"
Van closed the door behind him, looking over to the bed just in time to see that it was Charles. The chevalier was clad in a white robe, the wet wisps of his hair indicating that they had just finished bathing him. One lady servant was holding him up by his left arm, while another held him by the shoulders. The third was holding a towel in her hands, unsuccessfully attempting to dry his hair with it.
Charles gave a low, vicious growl, glaring at the servants fiercely. "I told you: I don't need your help!" he shrieked, his violet eyes flashing with a mixture of hatred and contempt for the human beings who were trying to help him. He tried to slap away the hands that were keeping him on his feet, but only succeeded at revealing how weak he still was when his legs gave away.
Van watched as the servants quickly rushed to assist the boy, catching hold of him before he could hit the floor. The gesture only seemed to anger Charles further, however, and in a swift movement he wriggled out of the servants' grasp and stepped back, impressively holding himself up this time. "Get out!" he snarled at them, the rapid rise and fall of his chest telling the scientist more than what he needed to know about the chevalier's condition.
"That's enough," Van said sternly, startling both Charles and the servants, who apparently hadn't even noticed him come in. "You may leave now," he told the maids, who were quick to sink into a courteous, nervous bow when they saw him. "I'll take care of Lord Charles myself."
As soon as the servants were gone, Van fixed his gaze on the stubborn chevalier, who had settled himself on the bed. Charles was clutching at his chest, all that had just transpired obviously exhausting him more than he would ever care to admit.
Van walked over to him quietly, halting only once he was standing right in from of him. "Lord Charles – " he started, the faintest expression of surprise adorning his face when the boy suddenly hauled him close by his tie, those violet eyes burning with such anger that even Van had to pause.
"Where were you?" Charles demanded sharply, his voice coming out in a dark, struggled whisper. He gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he glared at his servant. "I was waiting for you the entire time!"
Van tipped his head slightly, a perfect impression of a repentant servant. "I apologize," he said, making no attempt to pull away even as Charles continued to crumple his tie in those small, shaky hands. "I had to leave to oversee the distribution of the Cinq Fleches drugs in the northern part of the region."
Charles growled under his breath, his features so twisted by fury that it was almost hard to believe he had been crying only two hours ago. "And that's more important than me?" he snapped. "Those scientists – "
"They were Amschel's scientists," Van cut off, upon which he felt Charles pause. "He insisted on sending them from the main headquarters of the Cinq Fleches to conduct the experiment on you themselves."
Charles stared at him incredulously, seemingly surprised by this fact. The last time the boy had heard from the other chevaliers was when he was stripped of that particular title by Amschel himself. Seeming to remember this fact, Charles let out a growl, pulling Van even closer by his tie. "And you let them," he snarled dangerously.
Van narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, inwardly frustrated by his inability to counter the words. He was aware that he had been careless. He had always known that Amschel would try to find a way to dispose of Charles, and yet he left the boy with those scientists without a second thought. "Trusting the scientists that Amschel sent to conduct the experiment was a big lapse of judgment on my part," he said quietly. "I'm truly sorry that it happened, Lord Charles."
He watched Charles clench his jaw in anger before letting go, giving him a mild shove. "You're sorry. Hah."
Van simply straightened up, picking up the forgotten towel beside the boy on the bed. "Let's dry you off," he said, taking a seat next to Charles. Receiving neither a complaint nor an assent, the taller man proceeded with the task, inwardly pleased that the chevalier was not being uncooperative. Not that Charles would have the strength to struggle; Van was more than certain that the boy was too exhausted after having gone through that botched up experiment.
It was ten minutes later when Charles finally decided to break the silence, his dark gaze surveying the man kneeling in front of him and buttoning up his nightshirt. "Van," he called out, prompting said man to pause and look up at him.
"Yes, Lord Charles?" he answered, patiently waiting for the boy to proceed. Charles extended his arm to reach for him, the slender hand cupping Van's cheeks lightly. The boy lifted his servant's chin so that pale blues met dark violets, as if to make sure that Van's eyes would be on his master only, and nothing else.
Charles flexed his fingers, letting them trace the outline of his Van's unsmiling face. "When I agreed to have those experiments performed on me," he started, his forefinger lightly caressing his servant's lips as a mockery of a smile graced his own, "I explicitly said it was only you who could touch me, didn't I, Van?"
Van looked up at Charles grimly, remembering that particular evening almost a year ago very clearly. "Yes."
Charles leaned over to him as if in a kiss, stopping only when his face was so very close, and their gazes were finally leveled. "Only you, and no one else," he rasped, his small fangs showing as he did. He let his thumb sweep across Van's cheeks, his long, sharp nails deliberately cutting the skin and drawing blood. "Do you understand that, Van?"
Van stared back at the boy frankly, the dead expression on his face unchanging. Paying no heed to the blood that was trailing down his cheeks and staining his clothes, he gave a slight, obedient nod. "I understand very well, Lord Charles."
Charles hissed, seeming more displeased than satisfied with the answer. He slapped Van's hand away and drew back. "That's enough," he snapped, a mixture of confusion and irritation gracing his childish features. "I need a drink. Now."
Van simply nodded, pulling away to act upon the command. He felt Charles' eyes on him as he settled himself on the bed, and Van met his gaze, making out the almost imperceptible hint of worry in those dark violets. "They're gone, you know."
Charles blinked, as if snapped out of his musings. "What?" he asked, with more force than necessary.
"Those scientists," Van said, glancing down at the buttons of his shirt as he was undoing them. "I already sent them away." He paused, looking up. "There is no need to worry."
For a while Charles only looked at him incredulously, his anger suddenly subdued by his own confusion. "I – I'm not worried," he denied, looking away just as his cheeks flushed deep scarlet, betraying his words. "Don't be stupid, Van. I'm not getting worried over some pathetic humans," he added, speaking the last word with obvious disgust.
Van made no comment on this, knowing that the chevalier would say no further about the matter. Instead, held out his hand, beckoning the boy to approach. "Lord Charles," he called out.
Charles glared at his outstretched arm, briefly looking as if he'd rather send Van out of the room instead of accepting his offer. In the end, the need to quench his thirst seemed to triumph over his resolve, and the chevalier irritably crawled onto Van's lap. "You're getting on my nerves."
Van wrapped his arms around the small of the boy's back, easing him on top of him. "It was not my intention, Lord Charles. I apologize," he said, just as Charles threw an arm around his neck. Van lifted his chin to give the boy more access to his skin, closing his eyes when he felt the chevalier promptly latch his fangs onto his neck.
The next several moments were silent while Charles had his fill. Van let him keep at it for a while, involuntarily flinching when he felt the chevalier's sharp nails digging into his skin. "Lord Charles – " he said, opening his eyes when he heard the boy's breathing pick up, coming in hurried, ragged gasps. Van had been with Charles long enough to know that this meant the boy's natural instincts had taken over, the lust for blood overtaking his thoughts.
Van winced, starting to feel dizzy as he realized that Charles had exceeded the fifteen-second rule that they had agreed upon over a year ago. He started to pull away, knowing for sure that his little master had already drank much more than the amount of blood that Van could give him at a time. "Lord Charles – " he repeated, more forcefully this time. He gave the chevalier a slight, calculated push. "That's enough."
The boy visibly stiffened upon this, Van's words successfully getting through. He let go of his servant and gave a little lift of his head, his arm falling at his side in a gesture of exhaustion. "I'm – "
Van paused, catching hold of the boy before he could fall over backwards and hit the floor. "Lord Charles," he called out, uncharacteristically cringing when he felt the raw aching on the spot where the chevalier had bitten him. He had yet to get used to being the boy's primary source of 'drink'. "Are you all right?"
Charles' breathing was steady as he pressed his head against Van's chest. "I want to rest," he muttered, closing his eyes as if to underscore his point. "I'm tired, Van."
Van pushed his glasses up his nose. "I understand." Not without effort, he stretched out his free hand to reach for the pillows across the bed, fluffing them up as comfortably as he could for the boy in his arms. As soon as he decided it was good enough, he turned back to Charles, whom he then settled onto the bed securely.
"Is that fine?" he asked, knowing that Charles hadn't fully succumbed to sleep yet.
The chevalier nodded without opening his eyes, wrapping his arm around a soft pillow while nuzzling his head against another. "Hnn…"
Van took this as a yes and exhaled deeply, holding up a hand against the throbbing on his neck. The wound wasn't too deep, but the amount of blood that had left his body still made him lightheaded. Deciding against the risk of falling unconscious halfway back to his own room, the man sat beside Charles on the bed, frowning at the pain while he buttoned his shirt.
Five minutes, he thought. He would stay there for five more minutes to give his body time to recover from the drastic blood loss. It wasn't as if there was anything else that needed to be done for that evening anyway.
Van glanced over to his sleeping master when he felt him shift, pausing when he realized that the boy was still awake. Charles was looking at him through half-lidded eyes, his struggle to keep himself awake more than evident to his servant.
"You… you're still here…" he moaned, blinking rapidly as if to drive away his sleepiness.
Van raised a hand to his neck, his fingers lightly tracing the bite marks that Charles had left on him. He felt it twinge upon his touch, and he flinched. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy," he admitted, giving a slight quirk of his eyebrow when he saw an expression of almost concern in the eyes of the chevalier. "But I'll leave you to sleep soon. I just – "
"It's fine," Charles cut off, the sleepiness almost disappearing from his eyes when he blinked at his own statement. He twisted his childish features into a pout, looking away like a blushing boy. "I mean – " he hesitated " – you can stay, Van."
Van stared at Charles for a long time, his lips slightly parted as he felt the words leave him. His relationship with the chevalier hadn't exactly been smooth ever since the two of them had been introduced to each other, and the boy even pretending to be nice to him was simply unheard of. "I see," he replied briefly, unsure how else to respond.
Seemingly satisfied by this, Charles closed his eyes. "It's lonely being alone, Van," he sighed, a serene expression gracing his face as he slowly surrendered to sleep. "...I wouldn't… mind… if you… stay…"
Van remained unspeaking as he watched Charles doze off, not missing the unspoken relief in the boy's words. For a moment just before he closed his eyes, Charles almost sounded like he was thankful to have Van, despite their difficult relationship as a master and a servant.
A long moment passed before Van decided that the chevalier was finally asleep. He stood up from the bed, carefully pulling on the covers at Charles' feet to drape it over the boy's sleeping form. Van still had many things to do in the morning, but it wouldn't hurt to stay awhile and tidy things up a bit.
Van picked up his tie from the floor, shoving it into his pants pockets before looking over to Charles again. It was almost hard to believe that the boy on the bed could be anything like the monster than he always thought himself to be. His sleeping face was peaceful, without the faintest trace of frown or smirk that usually adorned it when he was awake.
"Are you terrified of being alone, Van?"
A small smirk crept over to Van's lips at the thought. How ironic, remembering such question after being ordered by his master to stay beside him.
Careful not to rouse the boy, Van sat back on the bed quietly. He leaned over to Charles, listening to the young chevalier's steady breathing. "No, Solomon," Van murmured, letting his fingers comb through the dark locks before drawing them away from the boy's face.
"I'm not terrified at all."
never alone.
It literally took me months to finish this (oh procrastination), so I'm really glad it's finally up. This is my second shounen ai fic – my small contribution to the almost nonexistent fanbase of Charles in this site. People should seriously write more about him, because he's too great a character to not write about.
Feedback is always appreciated. :)
Hilaire
08.01.12
