"Man, this is ridiculous! How long are we going to do this for?"

Dietrich glanced up from his book and raised an eyebrow at Heinrich. "As long as it takes to make sure that you're safe," he replied. "Or, more specifically, to make sure that everyone else will be safe around you at the full moon."

Heinrich glared at him halfheartedly. "Normally I wouldn't complain about being handcuffed to a bed," he mused, rattling the cuff against the metal frame and grinning at Dietrich, "but you aren't exactly my first choice of the person to do it – you wouldn't even make the list, dude."

"Oh, I know." Dietrich smirked, slipping his bookmark into the book and setting it aside. "I'm sure you'd rather if Inga or Hanna were here to babysit you. But their other suit isn't made of metal, so…"

"Yeah, yeah." Heinrich hummed, looking off into a corner of the rented shipping container wistfully. "Now that would be a fun evening…"

Dietrich gave him a look. "You realize Hanna has a boyfriend now, right?"

Heinrich started, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, really? Since when?"

"Greta told me," Dietrich answered. "A Law major a year ahead of us. Apparently, they did a class project together and started going out two weeks ago."

"Damn." Heinrich's face fell for a moment before he grinned. "Her loss, I guess."

Dietrich scoffed. "You know, you talk a pretty big game… but we both know you've been in all of one, semi-serious relationship in your entire life. And you never even slept with her!"

Heinrich smirked. "Or at least, that's the only one I've told you about…"

"Really." Dietrich gave him a deadpan look. "Okay. I'll bite. Have you been in any other relationships? Or even had sex with a girl?"

Heinrich hesitated. "I wouldn't tell you that," he finally answered.

"So… no."

Heinrich gave Dietrich a look. "You're enjoying our little monthly 'get-togethers' a little too much, bro," he complained. "How much longer are we going to have to do this, anyways?"

Dietrich raised an eyebrow. "I already told you. Lucie has no idea what might have happened to you, being bitten by a transformed werewolf at a time other than the full moon. All she could say for certain was that there could be some effects. But until we know for certain, we can't risk you going wolf around innocent people. And considering that under 'normal' circumstances, the first transformation might not happen for two or three months after being bit, we'll have to play this little game at least a couple more times before we can know for certain if you are safe." He grimaced. "And Greta and I almost set the wedding for a week earlier…"

Heinrich snorted. "What, you don't want me to show up in furs?" His face fell, an expression of worry flashing across his eyes.

"Don't worry," Dietrich assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Whatever is going to happen, it doesn't change anything. If you do spend a couple days every month covered in fur, we'll deal with it."

"I'm sure it's fine," Heinrich insisted, rubbing his wrist, a sour expression on his face. "I feel… normal. No instinct to chase mailmen or play fetch!"

"That's good," Dietrich answered. "Hopefully, this is just a precaution." He frowned. "Unfortunately, our resident expert on lycanthropic transformations is… indisposed. So, we'll have to wait a couple days to check with her."

Heinrich groaned. "I hope I won't have to wait that long to eat! I would kill for a steak."

Dietrich cocked his head. "Sure you're okay, bro?"

"Yeah… why wouldn't I be?"

Letting out a breath, Dietrich adopted an easy grin. "I'll ask my mom to pick up a couple ribeyes."

"Rare. Thanks." Heinrich leaned back in the bed and folded his arms behind his head. "This is so boring," he complained. "The least you could have done was put a TV in this thing, if we're going to have to spend half a week in here every month!"

"And have you smash it up if you did transform?" Dietrich scoffed. "No, thanks."

Heinrich groaned. "Fine. Then you tell me a story. You're the Teutonic Knight. What does that even mean? I thought the Teutonic Order didn't exist anymore."

"It does, technically, exist." Dietrich smiled wryly. "Only today it's a philanthropic organization – it gives people money and does charity work. But it hasn't had a military arm for over two centuries." Pulling out the penknife, he twirled it around his fingers. "Or at least, it didn't have any military might other than this. The Sword never went away; until World War II, the Teutonic Knight was still a member and representative of the Teutonic Order. But between when the Order stopped having its own military and World War II, the Teutonic Knight never really fought in wars – during World War I, the Knight stayed out of the conflict, at least officially. It was only when Hitler forced my Opa to serve him that the Teutonic Knight became an agent of the state, rather than a representative of the Order."

"And the Knight was always a member of your family?"

"More or less." Dietrich nodded. "The details are a little fuzzy from the earliest days of the Order, but as far back as we have records, the Sword has been passed around within the family, though not necessarily father to son. The Knight represents the ideal of the Order, the paragon which all other knights should strive to emulate. Does that mean he was always so virtuous? No. But it was always the goal."

Heinrich furrowed his brows. "So… why did it go away? I had never even heard of the Teutonic Knight before the museum."

"Why else? Hitler." Dietrich pursed his lips. "Like everything else he touched, he also sullied the Knight's reputation so badly by the stench of association with him that my father wanted nothing to do with the Sword. Opa had no desire to even touch it again after he was released from prison; the War and what he had allowed Hitler to do had soured him on that position and legacy entirely." He folded his arms. "I had listened to the stories so much growing up; I loved the idea of the ideal, virtuous knight, who would help those in need, defend the innocent, heal the sick and those injured by the acts of evil men – like Hitler. Opa's stories had been mixed in there, too of course: how he had been forced to serve the Nazis, how he had struggled to maintain his honor despite their terrible actions… So, when father offered me the Sword, I accepted it willingly, even though I was still ashamed of what Opa had done with it."

"And he went to prison for it." Heinrich shook his head. "That still blows my mind, bro. Not only did your grandfather work for Hitler, but he didn't even resist when they sentenced him to jailtime over it."

Dietrich raised an eyebrow. "After all the propaganda he filmed for Hitler – to say nothing of the battles he fought – it was the least he could do, for all the lives he had allowed to be ruined." Looking away, he sighed. "And for all of that, Geber forgave me – or him, rather."

"That's the chicken guy, right?"

Dietrich nodded. "His Opa was Davidstern, a French/German hero who fought against my Opa in World War II. They were on opposite sides, but Opa respected him and spoke very highly of him in his journals – they in fact spared each other's lives several times." He fell silent. "It's unfortunate that they never had the chance to meet in peacetime."

"Must be weird," Heinrich mused. "Fighting on the same side as your grandpa's enemy's grandson."

"Not 'enemy'." Dietrich grinned. "But still a little strange. Although I've started to grow accustomed to 'strange'! I never thought my fiancée would be rooming with a werewolf. Or that my best friend would get mauled by one…"

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask," Heinrich began, rubbing his wrist. "This – werewolves and the like, I mean – it isn't normal, is it? It's not like there are hags and vampires and the like running around, are there?"

Dietrich shrugged. "Not that I've ever run into, at least – the closest thing to a 'vampire' that I've heard about from the Heroes of Paris is actually just a man with a miraculous. But this whole experience has shown that legends may have roots in fact. My father's research has shown that there could be something to all these stories of monsters and vampires and hags and…" He gave Heinrich a meaningful look. "After all, we didn't know anything for certain about other Crusader weapons for a thousand years. But then, just this year, I've met people using three of them!"

"Fair." Heinrich eyed him carefully. "But what is the deal with those other weapons?"

"Based on what they've said, I assume it's the same as with the Sword," Dietrich replied. "The legends told that all the Crusader Orders received their own sacred, mystical weapon, but the details about them were nonexistent. And then I met the wielders of the Lazarist Lance, the Templar Mace, and the Hospitaller Bow. And that's after two of their Orders had been dissolved."

"Think there could be others out there?"

"Who knows?" Dietrich shrugged. "Maybe. My ancestors have collected a few other mystical artifacts over the centuries. There were rumors of other super-powerful weapons. But for all I know, they could just have been talking about the Miraculous!"

Heinrich raised an eyebrow. "Any chance I could get my hands on one of those artifacts?" he asked. "You and Greta both have something to give you powers…"

Dietrich's eyes drifted to Heinrich's handcuff. "Let's get you through the next couple months first. Then, maybe we can talk."