…Chapter three :D Thanks for all the comments btw guys

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"Ngh…"

The state of consciousness hit slowly, giving him a few moment of wake before he attempted to open his eyes. The room was faintly lit by the sun, the ceiling he stared at a warm, glowing hue. He wasn't in the front hall anymore, he was in a bed, and since all the ceilings looked the same, he couldn't tell if it was his room or not.

Hearing a soft noise to the side, he looked over. Faust, his apparent rescuer, knelt beside his bed, a glass of water in his hand as he crushed some sort of pill into it. Manta sat up quickly, but the way his body suddenly burned with pain told him that was a bad move. Defeated, he lay back down.

Faust's eyes turned to him when he saw the other was awake. They appeared emotionless, calculating. Doctor eyes. But, knowing that behavior put Manta on edge, his expression changed to one of relief.

"Did I faint?" Manta asked quietly when he found his voice. It still hurt to talk, so barely spoke above a hoarse whisper. When Faust nodded, he groaned and looked to the side. He would never live this down if Yoh found out. Yoh would feel horrible for letting Manta go on his own, which in turn would make Manta feel guilty. Not to mention that anytime he worked himself close to his limit, he would be reminded of this incident again and again, and forced to slow down. "It was just the heat."

"You fainted because of the heat, but your body is being pushed beyond it limited regardless of the temperature. Here." He handed Manta the glass he had been holding. "Drink this."

Making a slower, more deliberate attempt to sit up this time, Manta took the glass from him and drank carefully. "What is it?"

"Arsenic."

Manta almost choked. Coughing painfully, he looked at the glass as if it would bite him, before looking over at the German with complete surprise and almost terror. But Faust simply stared back with a calm expression and a slightly lifted eyebrow as his only sign of mild confusion. "I was joking Manta." He sat further back on his heels and tucked a few strands of loose blonde hair behind his ear. "It's just water and aspirin. It'll help with your headache."

"…But…but I don't have a headache?" The boy still looked at the glass as if it was suddenly going to attack him, or poison him, or both. His looked at Faust questionably, as if trying to decipher some parallel, malicious intent he might he hiding behind the kindness. If he was, his eyes didn't betray him, and they remained soft and secure despite how beautifully sharp they were.

"You will. Please drink it." Faust asked as he began to gather up the very few things he had taken out to care for the boy. Smoothing out the white coat he continued to wear out of force of habit, he stood, and moved for the door. Glancing back into the room, Faust held one hand up on the frame. "You need sleep. Give your body time to regain some energy, and you'll perform much smoother." He smiled a smile that wasn't a sneer, grin, or smirk. It was soft, even if it still showed a bit of the fang at the corner of his mouth. "Can I trust you to rest if I leave?"

Faust knew what he was taking about, so Manta simply nodded, placing the now half empty glass on the floor beside him. His body seemed to whimper with relief when he finally lay down. He opened his eyes again to smile at Faust, who was still standing in his doorway to make sure the teen actually dozed off. "Thanks…"

The other smiled again before leaving the room without another word.

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The wood in the oosen shifted loudly, without pause or warning.

Faust glanced up from his book in a moment of agitation, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the hall in hopes that his angered look would be enough to make the wood stop moving. The house was haunted alright. The floors creaked easily on their own, giving the impression of footsteps. Then, of course, the spirits in the house knocked on every door, wall and ceiling.

Once you were used to the noises, they were impossibly easy to sleep through. But for someone who never slept, the constant nightly distractions were impossible to ignore, or tolerate. Were he not already in a downward spiral of insanity, the constant rappings and creeks might make one snap.

Perhaps the crickets outside would be a less irritating symphony to read to. Gathering up the book and Eliza's skull, to keep him company, he made his way down the hall. His bare feet on the floor seemed to cause less noise than the wood itself made. He rolled his eyes. At times the workings of the mischievous poltergeists in the inn made him want to put out his eyes from simple frustration.

The faint glow from the small common room, however, made him lift an eyebrow. That was certainly not the cause of any of the ghosts around. But, with an exasperated sigh, and a twitch of annoyance, he realized he knew what it was. He was light on his feet, so easily made it to the room without much noise. Not like it mattered. When Manta was absorbed in his work the world became nothing but black coding on a white screen. Faust almost wanted to chuckle at how much the boy could be like himself.

But, now was not the time to be pushing his body again. Walking into the room, he smoothly heisted Manta off the ground and into his arms. The other gave a little sound, then a flailing motion to close his computer, or at least save his progress. In a moment of unlikely mercy, he let him, before taking him up the stares.

None to roughly, Faust disposed the other on the bed, before leaning over him, a splayed hand resting next to Manta's head. An almost teasing smile graced his lips. "I thought you were going to sleep."

"I was!" Manta wasn't hysterical, but had that way of responding to a question five times louder and faster than it had come at him. Faust's finger pressed to his lips as a reminder to keep his voice down. "But then father called, and I had to continue working on something he needs in a few days."

Ah, family pressure. Faust felt himself growing closer and closer to the boy the more he learned of their similarities. He saw a lot of his younger self in Manta, and it made him smile in a sad way. Although the profession he had fallen into was far more grueling and precise than what Manta had chose to do, the Japanese boy seemed to work himself no less. He spoke of the other's current physical state, not only from the view of a medic, but from one who completely understood the torture a body and mind could go through with one's complete devotion to work.

"You'll have time to finish it tomorrow." The doctor assured, his chin resting on his hand as he lowered to one elbow beside him. "I know you'll get it done on time, and sleep must come first. If not, you'll collapse halfway through and pass out for a good number of hours. Then where will you be?"

Manta had never really though about it that way. But the omnipotent, looming presence of his father made him shy away from rest and even sleep. He feared not performing perfectly, as he knew what happened when he was below that level. It made him suddenly tense and look away from Faust, lest the other see how truly troubled he was.

But Faust didn't have to look at him now, he had known for quite some time of the stress his family put on him. That was at least one thing Faust had better. His parents, while often away on business, were loving and encouraged him without threats of violence or punishment. They simply let Faust engross himself in the subject and go from there on his own. Manta clearly had a passion of a similar level, but he was unable to simply run with it. He was too oppressed with fear.

Faust felt his blood begin to boil over this man he had never met, but was now beginning to hate.

"Will you sleep now?" Faust asked softly, idly brushing a bit of longer hair from Manta's face. He wanted to be able to see the other's eyes to be sure Manta meant it this time. "I would rather prefer for you to rest for a few hours past sunrise. It would ease me a little more."

Manta looked over, feeling that blush creep to his cheeks again. Luckily the room was dark and Faust wouldn't be able to see it. At least he hoped. "You're worried about me?"

Smiling again, his eyes lidded with some sort of mother affection for the other, he nodded. "I'm a doctor. It's my nature to worry over everyone I'm around. That last time Yoh had a cold, I nearly had a heart attack at him showing one out of twenty symptoms of malaria. I see almost all the symptoms that will lead to a complete failure of your organs and perhaps your mind if you don't slow down. You need to sleep."

The pot calling the kettle black.

"You're a fine one to lecture me on my sleeping habits." The boy joked teasingly, even if his eyes were starting to feel heavy. "You haven't slept in almost a decade."

"Yes, but I'm also much older than you. I've given my body time to adjust to the change of my lifestyle. That is not to mention that I can heal my body if any of my internal workings start to fail. I also inject all the nutrients a body builds or stores during sleep whenever my day begins. So, yes, I don't sleep, but I take all the necessary precautions to be sure I so not simply waste away. You have taken none." Shifting his position, he laid his book and Eliza's skull on the bed next to him. Stroking his thumb lovingly over the wind-polished, white surface for a moment, he turned back to Manta and, without a word, rested down beside him.

Manta froze when he felt the doctor's heat against his back and turned to look over his shoulder. Even if it was dark in the room, his blush had to be practically glowing now. There was no way Faust couldn't see it. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you sleep and do not move, even if that cell phone rings for you. That vile piece of technology will be on the table when you wake up, so don't worry. The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner I'll let you wake up and go work. So rest."

Arguing with Faust over health was harder than debating with a wall, so, with an almost childish huff that made Faust laugh softly, Manta flumped on his side and closed his eyes. With a small start, he felt the blonde's hand travel up his back, the slender, talented fingers barely more then a whisper against his robed skin. But once they reached his neck, they skillfully found two points under his jaw and circled softly.

As soon as the comforting warmth from the pressure points flooded his body, Manta found it impossible to keep his eyes open. Within moments, and after a few soft breaths had slipped past his lips, he was lulled into a deep sleep. It was plausible it was the best one he had gotten in weeks.

Proud of his quick work on the boy's tired body, Faust curled an arm around him and held him close. He had no idea where this sudden strong urge to protect and comfort the boy had come from, but he was sure the faintest vapor of affection for him had been there quite some time. Deciding that the subject needed no more thought tonight, Faust closed his eyes and let his thoughts swirl. He reviewed the words of the book he had been reading, escaping to the little library inside in mind where countless volumes of information were being held. He could swear he had lost memories from his childhood just to make room for more knowledge. He'd need to build a new wing soon.

Somehow, lying with Manta in his arms, lost in his inner recollection, Faust's conscious slipped away from him, and he fell into a light sleep.

It didn't last long. In his dreams was a personal hell waiting for him. The demons of his mind attacked him with memories and hallucinations without pause. The faces of those he killed, their families, their angst flooded him. It was a clear reminder that he was no better then those who had taken his beloved from him. He was a twisted demon of a man that didn't deserve life. He didn't even deserve the peace of death. An endless sea of torment was the only suiting punishment.

She was always there too. Her wound was fresh, and blood ran down her face freely, forcing her to keep an eye closed. Her golden, full and beautiful hair splashed with death when the blood ran across it. Her single, blue eye was open, pleading for a rescue that she knew, as well as him, would never come. Not in this dream.

There was no escape.

With a gasp of pain, Faust awoke with a jolt, almost pulling Manta out of his sleep with him. Thankfully, the boy just made a small noise and shifted to curl around the other's arm with more ease. Catching his breath, Faust curled against the teen's back, holding him close. The tables turned, and now Faust needed the support Manta's sleeping, but warm body, could offer.

Unable to even move, he simply held the boy against him, letting the tears streak down his face as they pleased.

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Huzzah. Love and angst. Next chapter soon!