Dante’s Long Night

by EternalMoss

Summary:

Noé takes a hit for Dante, and has lost too much blood. A long night ensues.

Notes:

CWs for this fic:

-general blood & gore (needles)
-ableism & victim blaming rhetoric (Johann’s views on Noé are not my own)
-blood drinking & anything that includes
-Allusions to homophobia & internalised homophobia

Please ask me to add more if you’d like!

Dante was not supposed to have been caught up in this.

 

Unlike usual cursebearer missions, this one had well and truly not been planned for in the slightest, and the three of them had very nearly become the first victims of said cursebearer.

 

Noé’s head had snapped to the side a millisecond before the cursebearer had come rocketing down the street with a roar, seeking out the nearest bodies of blood.

 

In an instant both Vanitas and Dante were snatched, each firmly held in either arm of Noé’s, and whisked several meters away from the crashing impact of cursebearer and wall, leaving behind a great crater in the brickwork, rust coloured debris crumbling down.

 

Dante hadn’t even had the time to react.

 

He stared somewhat uselessly at the snarling man extricating himself from the wall, head twisted at an unnatural angle to face them, white fangs gnashing, eyes blood red.

 

“I’ll hold him back!” Noé announces, and Vanitas nods, focused ahead, while unsheathing the Book in one smooth motion.

 

 

Dante watches as the two start their routine. He hadn’t seen it many times- and certainly never this close up before, however it seems the two of them really do work perfectly in sync, like a well oiled machine, like clockwork. Despite their bickering, their timing is precise, down to the second, and they barely need to speak, let alone look at one another to co-ordinate.

 

 

It’s a weird feeling stood on the sidelines. Dante is lucky- on edge, but knowing he’ll likely come away from this entirely unharmed.

 

Remembering his place by Vanitas’ side in days gone by.

 

Vanitas and Noé have scarcely known each other for a couple of months, but move fluidly as if they’ve known one another their whole lives. As much as Vanitas bemoans his presence, Dante wonders how he’d ever done this song and dance without Noé- the two seem like complementary pieces of a single object in motion.

 

Somehow, a bitter part of him, aches at seeing Noé so easily slip into being by Vanitas’ side, and despite their companionable relationship, Dante had never been able to reach that level of closeness with the Quack, over his many years of trying.

 

It’s so easy for Noé to make friends. He seems to have an bottomless well of compassion, boundless confidence and is overall disarmingly kind. He always chooses his words perfectly- and everything he says to Vanitas seems to hit its mark effortlessly, and Vanitas’ carefully constructed walls come crumbling down.

 

Dante doesn’t want what Noé has with Vanitas. He knows that.

 

It’s far too intense, far too close for comfort. And yet, seeing Noé effortlessly at the place where Dante used to be… as much as he hates it he can’t help but feel slightly replaced.

 

Noé is panting. He’s blocked several of the cursebearer’s blows, evidently one with speed on a comparable level to Noé’s own, which is rare. He has his arms held out in a clearly well practiced defensive stance- ready to catch, ready to deflect.

 

“Have you any idea of the malnomen yet?” Noé asks, without even looking behind him.

 

“Yes.” Vanitas replies, readying the book, raising it. “Keep him in place.”

 

Noé nods dutifully.

 

 

Dante sighs in relief, steps back. It’s over.

 

At the sound of his feet on pavestones, suddenly red flashes towards him, and is nearly at his neck.

 

“Dante!” Noé shrieks, raw and afraid.

 

A second before white fangs would have become embedded in his neck, the path of the cursebearer is diverted into the other wall, Noé roughly tackling him.

 

Noé takes the blow, the harsh contact with the bricks, the impact of the momentum, because of course he does.

 

His hold doesn’t let up, he doesn’t even make a noise, just grimaces and grits his teeth, arms encircling the cursebearer tighter.

 

The cursebearer’s claws, however, tear into him.

 

The sound is horrid.

 

“Fuck! Noé- what the hell are you doing!?” Vanitas shouts in dismay.

 

“I’m-! I’m holding him! Quick!”

 

Noé cries out this time as claws rake into his flesh once again.

 

Vanitas doesn’t need any more of an incentive. The world lights up blue.

 

 

Dante blinks his eyes back open to see Noé and the deadweight of the cursebearer careening into the ground. Noé screws his eyes shut and hugs the cursebearer tighter to him, hits the ground first and takes the fall.

 

Immediately, Vanitas is over there.

 

“What were you THINKING?! You know damn well how to properly restrain a cursebearer and that was about the furthest thing from it!” Vanitas hisses.

 

Noé wheezes in response, face screwed up in pain, the cursebearer, unconscious, lain across his front.

 

“Oh for god’s sake! Dante, get the patient off him!” Vanitas exclaims.

 

Suddenly springing into action, Dante lifts the ex-cursebearer up by the armpits and drags him off Noé, sets him at the wall.

 

Despite his frequent collisions with said walls of the alleyway, the man looks barely scratched. Though cursebearers tend to heal much more quickly, it comes at the cost of depleting their vital energy much more quickly too, and knowing that, Noé seems to have tried avoiding the cursebearer be injured, fighting defensively and instead taking hits himself.

 

Dante is disturbed. He normally has better reaction times than this. Why he’d have to have this be the time he suddenly become useless and get in the way is beyond him.

 

“Okay. Okay.” Vanitas is saying, more to himself than Noé, which is never a good sign.

 

Dante stares over.

 

There’s a lot of blood. Noé isn’t breathing right.

 

“Punctured..?” He hears Vanitas whisper as he presses down on the upper wound on Noé’s chest, who hisses harshly through his teeth, eyes clenched shut.

 

“Noé? Can you breathe now?” Vanitas says quickly.

 

Noé’s red eyes look panicked as he shakes his head, making a strange gasping noise.

 

“Okay, alright. I think you’re just winded.” Vanitas says calmly. “I’m going to sit you up. Try and breathe slowly, even if you can’t get much in.”

 

Noé nods, fully trusting as usual, eyes shut once more.

 

There are a couple more horrid sounding strained breaths, and then he takes a full one. And then another, and another.

 

“There.” Vanitas says, relieved. “That’s it, like that, you’re alright.”

 

Noé nods and swallows, panting from the debt of breath and prior exertion.

 

Even so, Dante is distracted by the very stark red slashed twice across his body, vivid against the white of his coat. It is spreading very quickly. Vanitas seems to have cottoned onto that too. He doesn’t have his bag on him.

 

“Shit.” Vanitas whispers, digging into his black coat to pull out several tins of things and sets them clattering against the floor.

 

Vanitas sizes up Noé’s coat, bloodied and in the way, and makes the executive decision to use the claw of his index finger to slice the threads tying all the buttons down, at least all of the buttons down to his sash-belt, letting them fly off individually.

 

“Oh no..” Noé groans.

 

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Vanitas says hurriedly, and a little uncaring. “Mademoiselle Amelia will have them stitched back on in no time.”

 

With a yank of both hands, he pulls the fabric of Noé’s coat apart and down his shoulders to his hips, revealing the purple waistcoat which is similarly stained with blood, if not more so. Noé groans at being moved.

 

“Shit. Shit.” Vanitas whispers softly, tugging at the waistcoat and its several buttons too, which luckily seem to pop open without coming off. Noé’s body seizes in pain each time he’s jostled, teeth gritted tightly, hissing through them.

 

Dante picks up the scattered white coat buttons from the ground and collects them into his palm, before tucking them into one of his trouser pockets.

 

Noé looks up at him, smiles kindly through the evident pain, and mouths a thank you.

 

“Dante!” Vanitas snaps. “I need a little help here!”

 

He’s undoing the last bloodied layer of clothing, a dark shirt made darker, red glossy and wet.

 

Finishing that task, Vanitas chucks Dante a roll of gauze.

 

“Pack the top wound. Something major’s been hit somewhere, there’s too much bleeding.” Panic has begun to bleed into Vanitas’ voice too, as much as he’s trying to hide it.

 

Dante nods. He knows how to handle injuries, practically has been doing that his whole life. He unwraps some gauze and begins to pack it firmly in.

 

 

“Agh!” Noé shouts, eyes squeezing shut once more. “I- look it’s alright!”

 

Vanitas’ expression is incredulous, still staring down at the second gash in his abdomen. “No it damn well isn’t!!”

 

“I think I just need- just need a lie down and it’ll be alright…” Noé explains, helpfully.

 

Blood drips off his coat, onto the floor.

 

 

“Fuck- fuck, no that’s the last thing you need right now Noé, I-”

 

Vanitas clicks his fingers sharply in Noé’s face. “Come on!”

 

Noé blinks in a disjointed and concerning way. Dante’s stomach clenches.

 

 

The pooling red beneath them grows larger.

 

 

“Right, I’m just going to stitch this bottom one, and then the top one and…” Vanitas mutters to himself, steeling himself as he pulls out a suture kit and begins to unzip it.

 

“I… I can just have a short nap. I’ll heal quickly.” Noé tries to reassure, voice faint.

 

“Dante, don’t you dare let him go unconscious.” Vanitas says roughly.

 

“Fella, you’re losing too much blood, you can’t.” Dante says, trying ignore the rising sick feeling in his stomach as he watches the blood progress millimetres further on the pavestones.

 

Vanitas is trying to figure out where to start sewing the bottom gash up but there’s so much blood and the wound is far from neat, jagged uneven edges torn by many claws at once. Dante watches his eyes dart and fingers twitch, trying to find a solution.

 

 

 

The quiet whisper of ‘it’s cold’ from Noé causes the two of them to go still for a second.

 

 

His eyes are half lidded, purple dull.

 

 

 

Dante realises abruptly in that moment that no amount of salvaging the wounds now will do any good if Noé doesn’t get more blood, and immediately. It’s as simple as that, he’ll die.

 

Vanitas seems to have come to the same conclusion, if his blanched face is anything to go by.

 

It’s almost surreal, the way Dante watches Vanitas agonise over the situation. More than anything, he clearly doesn’t want Noé to die, and yet he can’t decide what to do, staring in horror at the scenario and his indecision.

 

If the amusement park is anything to go by, if Noé drinks Vanitas’ blood, he may well be the thing to finish him off.

 

Well, there’s only one other option then.

 

 

“Noé, listen to me. You’re going to drink my blood.” Dante says firmly, taking off his coat

 

Both Noé and Vanitas look at him in disbelief.

 

 

“But I.. I don’t want to do that..” Noé whispers.

 

 

“You’re going to die otherwise.” Dante says bluntly. He unbuttons his waistcoat.

 

Vanitas is silent.

 

 

“I’m forcing you to make this decision…” Noé says, voice raw, though weak.

 

“No, I’m deciding it myself.” Dante states. “I’d much rather you alive than dead, and still much rather you alive and with my memories than dead. It’s not a hard decision.”

 

Vanitas flinches.

 

“Dante I….” Noé whispers, crestfallen as Dante begins to loosen his cravat and then his shirt. “..I’m so sorry..”

 

He sounds close to crying.

 

 

“Shh. Come on, it’s going to be alright.” Dante puts on his best reassuring voice, the one that always works on the kids, and moves closer to Noé.

 

Noé gasps, fangs poking out of his mouth, eyes red.

 

“Come here.” Dante says gently. “There we go.”

 

“Sorry..” Noé breathes into his skin, despairing. “I’m so sorry…”

 

 

Dante prepares for the feeling of being punctured. What he isn’t prepared for is the wet tongue that licks up the side of his neck. He shivers.

 

And then he feels fangs imbed.

 

He gasps, despite himself, watches Noé’s half lidded eyes glow red.

 

It is quiet.

 

 

“..Noé?” Dante asks cautiously. He’s never seen this part before, doesn’t know what he’d expected Noé’s powers to look like.

 

“He can’t hear you. He won’t for a while.” Vanitas responds gruffly on Noé’s behalf.

 

“It’s good. It means he won’t feel this.” Vanitas adds with a whisper.

 

Dante averts his eyes as Vanitas lowers the needle.

 

 

He instead focuses on the feeling of having his blood drank.

 

Noé’s venom is entering his body now, there’s no doubt about it. It’s hazy and numbing and the more of it is supplied, the more it feels pleasurable. Dante feels himself begin to blush.

 

Noé is so gentle, the way he drinks, mouth around the side of Dante’s neck and the slightest pulse, the pull, the draw of Dante’s blood into it is really pleasant feeling now.

 

Dante sighs like a maiden, and is immediately horrified, though he resists the urge to clap a hand around his mouth, knowing that would jolt the three of them, and Vanitas needs his hands extremely steady right now.

 

“First one done, onto the second.” Vanitas announces.

 

 

Dante hears the wet crinkle of saturated gauze being pulled from the wound. Distracts himself with the sounds of Noé up against him, each swallow he can feel intimately, Noé’s tongue flat on his neck. No wonder vampires are obsessed with this, it feels excellent.

 

He shuts his eyes, and just lets himself drift, limbs going numb, floating in the sensation.

 

He notices himself becoming more and more relaxed, the soothing feeling at his neck, the warm pleasure branching through his blood vessels, the heady lull of the whole experience-

 

“-Dante? Dante, can you hear me?”

 

Dante blinks his eyes open, awakening from the bliss.

 

“Mh?” He lets out, strained.

 

“I think you- he’s had enough.” Vanitas says firmly, looking concerned. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Uh.. I….floaty? Dizzy… but good.”

 

“Right- okay, I’m taking him off of you.” Vanitas states decisively.

 

As Vanitas wraps an arm around the vampire, mindful of the recently closed wounds, and Dante absently feels a warm dripping on him, assuming it’s his own blood from Noé’s mouth.

 

When he finally gets a view of Noé again, Dante suddenly goes cold as he realises there are tears streaming down his face, wetting his white eyelashes, sclera red rimmed, mouth agape and trembling.

 

Quite suddenly sobered from the pleasant haze, guilt quickly sets into his body as Dante realises Noé has not been close to having the same experience.

 

Vanitas brushes back the white bangs off Noé’s tear stricken face with one hand, the other arm trying to keep him upright.

 

“Noé?” He questions softly.

 

There isn’t a response, Noé keeps crying in silence, breathing shakily.

 

“..Is this… normal for him?” Dante asks nervously.

 

“I’m afraid I think so.” Vanitas says with a sigh. “In fact I’d say this is better than some other times I’ve seen.”

 

Dante stares in disbelief. How could it be much worse?

 

Vanitas hums thoughtfully. “You might want to give him some space. He was functionally just experiencing existing as ‘you’. He might get disoriented in a second if he sees you.”

 

Dante scoots away, as best as he can with his limp and heavy limbs, buzzing from venom and blood loss.

 

“Noé?” Vanitas asks, crouching in front of the slumped vampire. “Come back now, it’s over.”

 

Noé still has a blank look.

 

A clawed hand brushes his cheek.

 

“Come on…” Vanitas whispers. “Just look at me for now, can you do that?”

 

Noé blinks, and turns to look at him.

 

“…I’ll comply with whatever you want. Just… don’t hurt the others.” Noé says gruffly, and oh, how weird it is to hear his own old words through Noé’s mouth. Dante stares, shocked and unsettled.

 

 

Vanitas stares too, only for a millisecond before readjusting himself.

 

“Do you recognise me?” He asks gently.

 

 

“Quack?” Noé says, squinting, before rubbing his eyes roughly with his sleeve.

 

 

Vanitas and Dante stiffen simultaneously. Okay fuck, that really was weird to hear.

 

 

“I’m Vanitas.” Vanitas corrects. “Do you remember who you are?”

 

Noé’s eyes dart around, untrusting. Dante is out of his range of sight.

 

“Where the hell are we?” Noé grumbles, wincing as he tries to move to get a better view of his location.

 

“There was a cursebearer that we cured. Please don’t move yet, you’ll mess up the stitches I just finished.” Vanitas puts an arm on his shoulder firmly.

 

Noé frowns. “What? I don’t understand… I?… Vanitas?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You’re here… and… oh… but...  -Dante!” Noé exclaims. “Wasn’t he just with us?”

 

“He’s still here.” Vanitas confirms, nodding at Dante.

 

Dante still doesn’t quite trust himself to walk yet without falling over, which would inconvenience everyone more, so he shuffles over on his butt.

 

“Hey fella. You feeling much better?”

 

“Dante!” Noé says, eyes shining with emotion. “I- I drank your blood. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m glad you did. You don’t look like you’re going to conk it anymore which is relieving.”

 

“You can say that again..” Vanitas grumbles, using a small pair of scissors to cut some more gauze.

 

“I know but I…” Noé’s eyes begin to well up with tears again. Dante is feeling vaguely faint and isn’t sure he has the energy to deal with this, but knows that’s what he signed up to when letting Noé feed from him.

 

“Hey.” He says gently. “It’s alright.”

 

“Ugh.” Noé wipes at his eyes again, this time in a more distinctly Noé fashion than before. “I know you wouldn’t want me to have seen that otherwise. I really am so sorry.”

 

“Look.” Dante sighs. “It’s fine. Out of everyone to know these things you’re definitely one of the most trustworthy people I’ve met. It’s just a shame you have to see all the unpleasant details I guess.”

 

“People are awful…” Noé whispers quietly, and that’s strange to hear from him. Vanitas’ attention is clearly caught by that admission, pausing. “How could they have done those things… you were just a child..”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Dante says awkwardly, rubbing the unbitten side of his neck.

 

Noé whispers once more. “Why are people so… -argh!”

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Vanitas apologises, securing a bandage around Noé’s waist.

 

There’s a lot of bloodied rags and strips of things on the ground, discarded haphazardly as Vanitas had evidently tried to stem the blood flow in vain.

 

Now the bandage on Noé seemed to be unblemished, which was good.

 

A small noise of pain curls out from the vampire’s nose.

 

“I know, I know.” Vanitas says placatingly. “I’m just- you know what, I’ll give you the painkiller now.”

 

It was a small syringe in a box, and for a second Dante thought it was one of the chasseur steroids, if not for the telltale bright green of those. The body of the syringe looked exactly the same though, so he wondered if it had been repurposed. He hoped the Quack had the sense to sterilise it, though he’s usually very rigorous abt these things.

 

Vanitas quickly pours some disinfectant onto a wadge of something, and wipes down a small area near Noé’s shoulder before quickly injecting the painkiller. He barely reacts.

 

“Alright, that should kick in fairly quickly.” Vanitas says, returning to a roll of bandage and starting to wrap up the other slash wound. He’s efficient and quick, and once done he gently lays Noé against the brick wall, who sighs in relief.

 

Now Vanitas is looking at Dante.

 

“Are you alright? I know you just gave a lot.” Vanitas says, with a look in his eyes. Gratitude probably.

 

“Hm? Me? Yeah, I’m good.” Dante mumbles.

 

“You don’t look it.” Vanitas says. “At least let me patch up your neck.”

 

Dante’s honey coloured eyes flicker down to his neck, where there is indeed a sluggish bleeding trickling down. As much as his body heals quicker than a human, it is still fairly vulnerable to vampire bites, and his tolerance for blood loss is quite a bit lower than that of a vampire.

 

Without really waiting for a response, or rather reacting to the lack of objection, Vanitas wipes away the excess blood, and presses down a dressing.

 

The lovely numbness of the venom has dissipated a fair bit by now and Dante winces.

 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Vanitas says, gentler than usual.

 

Vanitas slips his shirt down off the opposite shoulder too and Dante shivers at the cold air hitting his body. Tries to reassure himself that the sudden warmth blooming where Vanitas touches him is due to the lingering aphrodisiac.

 

Vanitas bandages diagonally to keep the wound dressing in place, before securing it at last with a pin.

 

He sits back, sighing with his hands on his hips.

 

“Honestly you two. You’ve depleted pretty much all of my emergency supplies.”

 

“Sorry..” Noé mumbles from the wall.

 

“You didn’t have to do mine.” Dante murmurs, as Vanitas goes to button his shirt back up.

 

“Don’t be stupid.” Vanitas tuts. “I’ll just replenish them over the next couple of days. They’re meant to be used in situations like this.”

 

He sighs once more. “Though I’m not sure I quite have the strength to drag the three of you back to the Galerie at once.”

 

Three..? The cursebearer!

 

Dante jolts as he looks around, and spots the man in the exact place he left him, unconscious at the wall.

 

“Shit- is he alright?” Dante mutters. He’d completely forgotten about the ex-cursebearer in all the drama of the last few minutes.

 

“Yeah it’s pretty common for them to pass out after being cured. He’ll probably wake up some time soon.” Vanitas says lazily, gesturing an arm.

 

“Either way,” Vanitas continued. “I’m not sure I’m capable of dragging the two of you back either. Neither of you are looking in particularly great shape still.”

 

“I can walk..” Noé mumbled.

 

“No you cannot.” Vanitas said bluntly. “I just spent a great deal of stress on those stitches, don’t you dare go trying to tear them now.”

 

Noé whined petulantly. Vanitas sighed.

 

“I know, no one wants to spend all night stuck in a dingy alley. But we need help.” His eyes flick to Dante.

 

“Do you think you could send your bat to get us some transport?” Vanitas is slightly hesitant, as if he’s already asked too much of Dante.

 

“Oh shoot, yeah, that’s a good idea.” Dante replies. His sluggish brain seems to be embarrassingly behind at the moment. He hopes he can just chalk it up to losing a good deal of blood.

 

Virgil, his fluffy black bat, is sat faithfully atop his coat, which he’d shrugged off along onto the floor with his waistcoat to let Noé get access to his neck.

 

He fishes out the rolled up strip of paper and the small pen he keeps in his coat, and begins to write, before motioning for Virgil to hop onto his hand.

 

“Thanks bud.” He whispers, securing the message into the metallic pouch hung round the bat. He held up the cue for Johann, then watched as the bat took off into the night sky.

 

He sighs.

 

 

“Whuh-!? Where am I??” An unfamiliar voice calls and Vanitas sighs a long suffering sigh.

 

Dante rather suspects Vanitas’ would have preferred the ex-cursebearer to stay unconscious for at least a little while longer.

 

“The street where you attacked us.” Vanitas states simply. “Though you should be happy to know you’re no longer a cursebearer thanks to me.”

 

“I- shit! Did I do this??” The man gasped, looking over at Dante and Noé.

 

“Pretty much.” Vanitas says, curtly. “You won’t be punished but I still need to register you at the embassy as a cured cursebearer. Then you can go back home.”

 

“I… wait! You’re that guy! The vampire doctor, right?”

 

“The one and only.” Vanitas said, dryly and lacking his usual gravitas, sat slumped on the floor.

 

“I thought it was complete bullshit, I can’t believe it…” the man said in disbelief.

 

“Yes, that is what most people say.” Vanitas states bluntly, and sounding rather too tired for all this.

 

“I, uh… thank you…” The ex-cursebearer mumbles.

 

“You’re welcome.” Vanitas says curtly. “We’re waiting for transport so don’t go anywhere.”

 

 

Vanitas closes his eyes, and the ex-cursebearer’s attention awkwardly flicks between the three of them. Noé has his eyes open, but half lidded. Dante feels much the same.

 

“I’m really sorry..” the man mumbles. “I didn’t mean to do any of this.”

 

Vanitas’ mouth opens, and if Dante knows anything about him, he suspects the next sentence out of his mouth will be something along the lines of ‘yes, that is how being a cursebearer works.’

 

Instead Noé cuts across. “It’s alright, we know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He smiles, softly, disarmingly. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Um. I don’t think I’m injured, I think I’m alright..”

 

“Yeah, that’s because Noé took half your blows.” Vanitas said harshly. The cured cursebearer shrank in on himself.

 

“Vanitas.” Noé hisses. “Come on.”

 

Vanitas huffs.

 

“I know it’s frightening.” Noé says gently. “But everything’s over now, there’s no need to worry.”

 

Dante shifts, pressing himself back against the wall. He has half the mind to fall asleep.

 

As if reading his mind, Vanitas cuts across. “Oi Baldy. No sleeping.”

 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Dante lies, crossing his arms. “I just want a rest.”

 

“…Fine.” Vanitas acquiesces. “But if you don’t wake back up again I’ll be annoyed.”

 

 

“I’ll be fine.” Dante grumbles, head drooping. He really has reached his limit. He can feel his body slipping into unconsciousness.

 

“Rest well Dante.” Noé says from the other side of Vanitas.

 

And with that, Dante lets himself drift off.

 

 

—-

 

He wakes up to being jostled, and a familiar pair of tinted lenses hiding grey-lilac eyes. They look worried.

 

“Mmhm?” He mumbles, trying to get his bearings.

 

“Oh good.” Johann says. “Come on now, we have a cab.”

 

As his vision clears, Dante sees Vanitas helping Noé into said vehicle, crouched to support the vampire’s weight, his arm slung over him.

 

“Dante!” He says cheerfully. “You woke up, that’s good. Vanitas was worried you might not.”

 

“No I wasn’t.” Vanitas grumbled.

 

“Can we go backwards?” Noé asked. “I’ve never gone backwards in a cab before, it sounds exciting.”

 

“Sure.” Vanitas says. “Just stop moving quite so much. You’ll break your stitches.”

 

 

Dante blinks, trying to get a handle back on reality.

 

“Dear me, you really did give him a lot didn’t you?” Johann says quietly, tilting his head, a teasing lilt in his voice, and beneath that, uneasiness. Before Dante could get a rebuttal in, Johann outstretches a hand. “Come on now, let me help you up.”

 

 

There are two rows of seats in the cab. Noé is settled by Vanitas’ side in the one back to back with the driver, and there is another row, facing forward, which Johann lowers Dante onto, before sitting down himself.

 

Each row has three seats. The ex-cursebearer is awkwardly sat on the other seat beside Vanitas, looking like he is trying to take as little space up as possible.

 

Vanitas looks excessively over this whole evening, but allows Noé to lean on him without reprimand.

 

“Everyone in?” The driver calls, and Vanitas shouts back a ‘yes’ in response.

 

The vehicle moves.

 

Johann has both their bats sat on his lap, and Dante’s blazer and waistcoat over his arm.

 

“Vanitas dear, can I put these back on Dante? The poor thing will catch a cold.”

 

“The coat, yeah. You’re supposed to avoid tighter clothing so not the waistcoat.” Vanitas mumbles, eyes shut.

 

“There we are love.” Johann says as he helps the coat back over Dante’s shoulders. “Oh your poor cravat is all crooked too.”

 

“Keep that loose.” Vanitas mumbles.

 

Johann sighs. “I suppose I’ll have to, seeing as it’s doctor’s orders.”

 

He brushes a thumb against Dante’s cheek, which feels nice. He leans into it despite being in the company of others. He looks over at the very awkward ex-cursebearer who seems to have found himself sandwiched between two couples. He chuckles.

 

“Hm? What’s so funny Dante?” Johann asks softly.

 

“Oh, nothing.” Dante murmurs.

 

“He might be laughing due to oxygen deprivation.” Vanitas says. “Keep him awake.”

 

“Oh come on.” Dante grumbles. “You’re insufferable.”

 

He snuggles into Johann’s arms in defiance.

 

 

Johann strokes a gentle hand over ginger hair. “There there love. You’ve had a trying night I’m sure.”

 

“You can say that again.” Dante mutters.

 

 

There is a long silence, a rather peaceful one, as Johann gently cards through Dante’s tufty hair, and he allows his eyes to close, but keeps himself from drifting off again.

 

“I think I’d like to ask you two to stay at the hotel tonight, if that’s possible.” Vanitas says all of a sudden, eyes still closed.

 

“…Would we be allowed?” Johann asks cautiously.

 

Noé’s purple eyes crack open, looking sad.

 

“Yes. I’ll make provision for you.” Vanitas says firmly. “It’ll be under my request. I’ll drop the three of you off at the hotel before taking him with me to Orlok’s.” Vanitas gestures at the ex-cursebearer, who shrinks once again.

 

“Can’t I come with you?” Noé asks, tiredly.

 

“Absolutely not Noé. You will be resting. You avoided death by a hair tonight, I’m not taking any more chances.” Vanitas says firmly.

 

Presumably, Dante thinks, the same reason why he’s keeping me in the hotel too. He’s probably just shaken up and wants to keep an eye on everyone. He smiles. Vanitas has always been like this.

 

“Don’t worry Noé dear, we’ll look after you.” Johann says, with a slightly menacing smile, but Noé evidently doesn’t pick up on it.

 

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.” He says softly.

 

—-

 

The cab finally arrives at the hotel front, and the four clamber out, Vanitas once again supporting Noé’s weight as they enter the front door. Dante doesn’t need quite so much support from Johann but he still feels a bit unsteady on his feet and is grateful to have him at his side.

 

“Oh my..” Amelia says, expression sad. “You all are in a bit of a state… would you like some refreshments?”

 

“Maybe some water, thank you Amelia.” Vanitas says. “And these two are staying the night, could you put any expenses of theirs on my tab.”

 

Amelia nods. “Of course! Welcome in gentlemen! Oh- apologies, I don’t think I’ve caught your name before Monsieur?” She asks.

 

“Johann.” Johann says with a smile. “A pleasure to meet you.”

 

Amelia bobs a nod, her ribbons fluttering with the movement. “Welcome to Hôtel Chouchou Monsieur Johann! And I hope you feel better soon Monsieur Dante.” Her eyes track to the bandaging around his neck.

 

“We might be occupying the lounge for a bit, Amelia.” Vanitas says, craning his head around. “Just for the night at least.”

 

“No problem!” She says, already scribbling down in the hotel registry. “I’ll bring you all some things in just a second.”

 

 

Johann is looking around cautiously as he steps into the hotel, Dante’s arm leaning on him. “Well, this place seems nice.” He says, lips pursed.

 

“It’s pretty empty, don’t worry. It’s just the Quack and the fella most of the time.”

 

Johann huffs. “I see dear Vanitas has grown used to quite a comfortable life.”

 

Dante rolls his eyes. “Apparently he sleeps on the roof most nights.”

 

Johann snorts out a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

 

 

They step into the lounge, where Vanitas is already setting a very tired looking Noé down, before rushing upstairs. Dante wonders what for, before he comes back down just as quickly with a dark shirt and a cream coloured cardigan.

 

Noé looks up at him appreciatively, and whispers a private thank you as Vanitas redresses him, before taking the bloodied clothes into another room, to what is presumably the laundry, before returning.

 

“She was quite nice.” Johann remarks, as he helps Dante down onto the sofa too, who sighs heavily.

 

“Amelia?” Noé perks up. “She’s my friend! She’s great.”

 

Johann smiles, a slightly strained thing. “Ah. Very nice.”

 

“She’s the girl from the airship.” Dante explains.

 

Johann’s eyes widen. “Oh… is she… still indebted to work here?”

 

“Johann.” Dante hisses.

 

“..What?” Noé says, voice quiet.

 

Vanitas sighs. “That was the initial condition for suspending her execution. I don’t know whether that’s changed, but it’s fairly likely.”

 

“I swear, if that old man-“ Johann mutters.

 

“Johann.” Dante says again, with more urgency this time.

 

Amelia steps into the room.

 

“Hello! I got a pitcher and some glasses, as well as some blankets and the medical kit!” She announces, carrying a loaded tray in one hand, and several blankets heaped over the other arm which is clinging onto said medical kit. The balancing act is awkward to look and, and it’s clear she’s focusing hard on not messing it up.

 

“If anyone would like anything else, like some warm drinks, or some food then-“

 

“Ah- thank you Amelia, hang on, let me help.” Vanitas says hurriedly, rushing over to take the tray from her hands.

 

“Oh, thank you Monsieur Vanitas!” She says cheerfully, adjusting the many blankets onto the other arm. There was well over five of them- Dante half suspects she’d just carried through every quilt, throw and blanket the hotel owns, all different colours and tassels.

 

It looked heavy, though as a vampire it probably wasn’t bothering her much. She slumped them over the end of the sofa, looking across them all.

 

She sets the medical kit down. “Is there anything else you need of me?”

 

Vanitas shakes his head. “I don’t believe so. Thank you very much Amelia.”

 

“Thank you Amelia!” Noé says brightly, despite his clear exhaustion.

 

Johann nods. Dante mumbles a thanks as well.

 

“I’ll leave you be.” She says with a nod. “Oh? Are you also going Monsieur Vanitas?” She asks, noticing the young man pull his coat back on.

 

He sighs. “Yes. I’ve got to take a patient back to Orlok’s. He must have been waiting for a while now, the cab driver too.”

 

At the utterance of the name ‘Orlok’ Johann’s smile turns more bitter.

 

“Oh! Send him my regards!” Amelia says happily. “I hope you have a good trip.”

 

Vanitas nods. “Thank you. And you two, keep an eye on Noé until I’m back alright? Make sure he doesn’t sleep- no one’s allowed to kick the bucket while I’m gone.”

 

Dante sighs and nods. Johann does a little mock salute. “Yes Captain~”

 

Vanitas rolls his eyes, and rushes out of the lounge.

 

 

Amelia is about to follow him when she pauses and walks over to Noé.

 

“Would you like a blanket, Monsieur Noé?” She asks, smiling shyly.

 

“Thank you Mademoiselle Amelia, that’s very kind.” Noé says, voice soft and appreciative.

 

She flicks through the pile, and spots a purple blanket, tasseled and soft, and drags it out and over to Noé.

 

“Here you go.” She said, a small blush dusting her features. Dante mentally rolled his eyes.

 

“Thank you Mademoiselle Amelia.” Noé says once more, smiling with tired eyes.

 

 

She turns around to the other two, hands hovering over the blanket pile. Before she can even speak, Dante chips in.

 

“Uh, I’m good for blankets.” He mumbles. Johann nods. “Likewise.”

 

Amelia’s blush grows. “Right! Sorry, I really will leave you all be now. Good night!”

 

“Goodnight Mademoiselle Amelia.” Noé says quietly, eyes half lidded.

 

Amelia leaves the room.

 

 

Johann traipses over. “Now now Noé, no falling asleep.” He tuts, condescendingly.

 

Instead of being embarrassed or annoyed at being talked to in such a way, Noé rubs his eyes childishly and mumbles a ‘sorry’. Johann seems surprised that his attempt at teasing Noé didn’t work, though when has it ever? Dante sighs.

 

“How are you feeling?” Johann asks, voice neutral.

 

“Not very good.” Noé admits. “But the painkillers are good, it doesn’t hurt so much.”

 

No wonder he doesn’t feel good, Dante had seen about half his body’s blood soaking his clothes and the ground.

 

Johann purses his lips. “Mm. I’m sure.”

 

“And…I’m really sorry.” Noé whispers, sounding distant. “Really sorry Dante. I know you didn’t want to. I hope you don’t feel sore.”

 

 

Dante watches Johann’s eyes narrow.

 

“Look, fella, it’s fine. I’m glad you’re still with us, because the alternative is what it had been looking like if I hadn’t.” Dante says, trying to reassure.

 

 

Johann still looks angry. Dante understands why. The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets.

 

The bite wound on Dante’s neck throbs.

 

Although Dante doesn’t know the extent of Noé’s powers, there a good chance he’s seen all of his memories. That means every unpleasant thing, every private thing, every intimate thing, including Johann. Especially Johann.

 

In fact, there’s a good chance that he’s seen every memory that Dante has of Johann. The thought unnerves him. He hopes that’s not the case- even as far as regular people go it’s invasive, but Johann is particularly private and protective of his past.

 

Either way, Noé doesn’t seem to be treating them any different than usual. Is this what it means to be an Archiviste? To see a person’s entire life, to live it, and to remain unphased?

 

 

“I’m… I’m really tired.. I want to sleep..” Noé mumbles.

 

Johann sighs. “Can’t you at least hold out until darling Vanitas returns?” His voice is tense.

 

“I… I will try my best..” Noé says, rubbing his face.

 

Johann still looks annoyed.

 

 

“Uh, fella how about trying some of the water? It’s cold so it might help you stay awake a bit.” Dante tries.

 

“Oh right!” Noé exclaims, before lurching forward to-

 

“You’re supposed to be staying still, unless you want to tear those stitches.” Johann says sharply. “Were you not listening at all?”

 

As if hit, Noé flinches and goes still. “Sorry..”

 

“Johann.” Dante says, for the third time in the night.

 

“I don’t want Vanitas furious at us for something he did.” Johann explains cooly. “Does that not seem like the sort of thing your ‘Quack’ would do?”

 

“Lay off.” Dante says, a warning tone. He walks over and begins to pour the water into a glass. “We’ve all had a rough night. I’m sorry you’re caught up in it too.”

 

Johann takes a loud inhale, and promptly turns out of the room.

 

“Johann!” Noé exclaims. “I’m sorry! I-“

 

“Hey. Let him be. He’ll come back in a bit.” Dante says softly.

 

“I-” Noé’s voice cuts off into a sob. “I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry.” He buries his head in his hands.

 

 

Dante sets down the glass. “Hey, hey, shh, it’s alright, come here.”

 

He pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, and sits down next to Noé.

 

“Come on now, it’s alright.” Dante says softly, one hand taking a hold of one of Noé’s, pulling gently away from his face. The other falls away.

 

His purple eyes are red rimmed, tears rolling down his face. He hiccups.

 

 

Dante gently cups his face with the handkerchief, drying the tears, thumb moving to brush at his damp eyelashes under cloth.

 

“I’m sorry Dante..” Noé whispers.

 

“I know.” Dante says gently. He doesn’t have to hear it another million times, it’s quite obvious at this point.

 

“What did I do to upset Johann- I-“ Noé sobs “-I don’t know what I’ve done but he’s really upset and I don’t know what to do and he’s really angry at me-“

 

“Hey, hey, fella, it’s alright.” Dante soothes, brushing his other hand over Noé’s face. “Look at me, just calm down first okay?”

 

Noé sniffs and swallows, eyes wet.

 

Dante wipes round his face with the handkerchief again.

 

Johann, right now, is absolutely freaking out about how he’s had his memories seen by proxy. Something which is fairly understandable, but taking it out on Noé had been a step too far, especially when he didn’t even know that Noé had had to drink Dante’s blood because he took a hit meant for Dante in the first place.

 

But he can’t tell Noé all of that.

 

“…Tensions are running high but it wasn’t fair of him to talk to you like that.” Dante says at last, trying to pick his words carefully. “I’m pretty sure he’ll come back in a bit and apologise for speaking to you so harshly.”

 

Noé blinks. “Really?”

 

Dante nods. “I’m fairly certain, yeah.”

 

Noé blinks again. “Oh…”

 

“I’m sure he’s antsy for lots of reasons right now.” Dante admits. “He’s pretty nervous about even being in the hotel. I’m sure you know why.” Even if Noé had been ignorant about what Dhampirs faced up until recently, there’s no way he’d still be now, especially not after justseeing Dante’s memories.

 

Noé’s brow furrows, damp eyes fixing into a look of frustration. “The way people treat you guys is awful. I’m so, so sorry. I just don’t understand why anyone would ever behave like that. I still don’t get it.”

 

Dante sighs. “There isn’t a reason, not really. We’re just… easy targets, I guess.”

 

Noé scrunches his hands up into fists, staring down at a spot on the floor.

 

“Ah- do not talk about this with Johann.” Dante says quickly. “He… wouldn’t want to talk about this with anyone else.”

 

Noé nods slowly. “I understand, I think. It’s… unpleasant. I get not wanting to talk about it.”

 

He continues to think silently, and in lieu of staring at him doing so, Dante turns to pick the glass of water up off the table.

 

“Here.” He says gently.

 

Blinking, Noé takes the cup and starts to drink.

 

“Thank you.” Noé says. “…And thank you for earlier. I don’t believe I’ve actually thanked you for that yet, I’m sorry.”

 

Dante nods. “As I said, it’s alright. You’re welcome.” He smiles softly. “Thank you for stopping me becoming mincemeat.”

 

Noé nods, looking absent.

 

Dante swallows awkwardly, opting to stuff the handkerchief back in his pocket now that Noé had stopped crying.

 

“-wha? I..”

 

“Dante?” Noé pricks up. “Are you alright?”

 

“What on earth are…?” The outlines in his trouser pocket suddenly becomes familiar again as he remembers. “Oh shoot! The buttons!”

 

“The buttons?” Noé cocks his head.

 

“Yours.” Dante says with a smile, fishing them out. “I’d completely forgotten, sorry.”

 

“Oh! Thank you so much for hanging on to them!” Noé says, cradling them in his hands as Dante drops them into his palms.

 

“That’s good… Mademoiselle Amelia should still be able to fix my coat then… hopefully…” Noé replies bashfully.

 

“Well, if it can’t be fixed then I’ll pay for your new coat.” Dante says, perhaps unwisely. The second the offer comes out his mouth he slightly regrets it. There’s never heaps of money going around in La Ruche, and knowing Noé’s aristocratic tastes that may very well set a considerable dent in his expenses.

 

He wonders why he only sees Noé wearing two similar coats in rotation, both white, considering the nature of his work and his frequent injuries. Though he couldn’t rule out it being a matter of eccentric preference, Noé seemed to have more sense then to chose specifically to only wear white.

 

“…But do you seriously only have two?”

 

Dante realises at the last second that the question might have been a bit insensitive. Noé nods meekly.

 

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, you’re right, I should probably buy more it’s just.. I don’t really know how.” Noé mumbles.

 

“You don’t know? Like, how to get things tailored?” Dante asks, confused.

 

Noé nods again, embarrassed.

 

“How’ve you been getting your clothes then?”

 

“Erm…” Noé rubs his neck sheepishly. “Teacher would just send me them while he was away, clothes that he chose for me, in his taste. Every now and then when I grew he’d take new measurements so I know you need those in order to buy clothes.”

 

In his taste?

 

“So have you never been to a tailor’s?” Dante asks.

 

“I, uh, never really left the castle at all before.” Noé says, looking away. “So.. no, not yet.”

 

What? Dante suddenly felt his perception of Noé shifting, and by quite a lot.

 

“So was coming to Paris- a couple of months ago, that was your first time leaving the castle?” Dante asks, trying to keep the incredulousness out of his voice but not being entirely successful.

 

“Um.. yeah.” Noé says, smiling meekly.

 

Well, holy shit. Suddenly Noé is appearing significantly more well adjusted to his circumstances than Dante had assumed. The image presented in front of him had gone from that of an excessively sheltered and privileged young man to something more dubious over the recent months.

 

Never left the castle until a couple of months ago? When had he first arrived then? At what age? And under what circumstances?

 

He briefly entertains the premise that maybe Noé’s teacher had been hiding him away because he was an Archiviste, in order to protect him, but the knowledge of the recent incident in the amusement park flashes in his mind, along with the events of Gévaudan.

 

Noé had been abducted by the young lady D’Apchier and her servant, and upon learning he was an Archiviste, he’d forced Noé into drinking his blood. Dante had been shocked to hear it admitted from the young man’s own mouth, and just as shocked to see Noé instantly forgive such a thing, treat it as water under the bridge without a second of hesitation.

 

Keeping Noé oblivious in that castle for years hadn’t protected him as an Archiviste, it seemed it had only made him more vulnerable to being taken advantage of.

 

Dante felt his stomach turn.

 

It had been bad enough stuck in that bedroom for years, being expressly forbidden from opening the door unless his mother permitted it. Imagining having to that for your whole life…

 

Dante knew what a gilded cage looked like. He had been provided a good education, good clothes, good food, but was never allowed to leave the confines of his bedroom except for when he was told to do so. Not allowed to be seen by anyone, not allowed to be known about, not allowed to go outside.

 

And still, in the end, she had abandoned him outside.

 

Dante wonders, for the first time, if Noé might actually understand after all.

 

 

“-nte? Dante?” Noé asks, worriedly.

 

He swallows. “Yeah?”

 

“Are you alright? You’re not feeling dizzy or lightheaded are you?” Noé asks, concern written plainly on his face. “I’m sorry if I took too much earlier-“

 

“No, I’m fine, I just remembered something, sorry.” Dante murmurs. “What were we talking about?”

 

Noé looks at him, one more time, guilt set in his eyes. “Um. Tailoring.”

 

Dante smiles. “Ah, that’s right, you didn’t know how it worked.”

 

“No need to rub it in..” Noé mumbles shyly.

 

“It’s alright, I can tell you now.” Dante says. “It’s fairly simple. You go in, they take your measurements, you pick the desired item of clothing, the cut and so on, then you choose the fabric you’d like and any additions, and they get back to you in a couple of weeks with the finished garment.”

 

Noé’s eyes seem to sparkle, impossibly bright. You wouldn’t have imagined he was crying only a little while ago. “You- you get to choose?! That sounds incredible!!”

 

Dante cringes. That’s what pretty much every person in the country does, irrespective of class, unless they were living in rags in abject squalor.

 

“…I know I wear my uniform pretty much all the time I’m out and about, but I also have my own clothes, it might surprise you to know.” Dante says, smiling at Noé’s overjoyed expression.

 

“I’d love to see them!!” Noé exclaims. “And maybe even.. perhaps one day have some made for myself…” he turns his head away bashfully.

 

Holy shit, mental note to talk to the Quack, please take this guy clothes shopping as soon as possible. Each time Noé opens his mouth it makes Dante feel more miserable.

 

He hears a click of shoes on the floor. Twisting his head, he sees Johann is back.

 

Oh shit, here they go.

 

“Johann.” Noé says. “Um.. hello.”

 

“Noé.” Johann says with a somewhat more convincing cordial smile, before his expression changes to a slightly awkward one. “I’m terribly sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I hope you can forgive me, I am rather tired.”

 

 

Noé looks up at him. “Thank you.” He says, not ‘sorry’. “I understand, it’s been a long night for us all I think.”

 

Johann looks down at Noé in surprise, as though he’d been expecting a barrage of apologies he’d have to mitigate, instead of this response. Although Dante can see Noé slightly fighting the urge to say anything further, he leaves it at that and Johann flops down on the sofa, sighing softly.

 

“I spoke to Mademoiselle Amelia. She’s setting up a temporary room for us tonight, very kindly of her.” Johann says, to Dante.

 

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” Noé says. “I thought it would be uncomfortable for you two to be stuck down here all night, even if that’s what Vanitas said.”

 

“Yes, well, hopefully he comes back soon and allows us all to get some rest.” Johann says, pinching his forehead.

 

“He should be back fairly soon.” Dante says. “He’s the kind of control freak who wouldn’t want to leave the situation out of his sight longer than necessary.”

 

 

Noé frowns, opening his mouth as though about to defend the good name of his roommate, when all of a sudden, the three of them hear a distant chime of a bell at the front door. Immediately their attention is all caught.

 

Speak of the devil and in he comes, Vanitas taps into the lounge.

 

“Vanitas!” Noé exclaims.

 

“Everyone still alive? Very good.” He says, nonchalantly, though Dante doesn’t miss his eyes flickering over Noé the most.

 

“Yes, alive and quite tired.” Johann says, with a pressuring smile. “What might give the doctor peace of mind to let us retire to our room?”

 

“Oh, you booked one then? That’s probably a good idea.” Vanitas muses. “If you don’t mind I’d like to check some last few things with Dante. I’ll just nip up to get my bag.”

 

“Alright then.” Johann says with a sigh. “Though don’t think you can deprive us of sleep all night long.”

 

“I don’t plan on it!” Vanitas says, halfway out the room.

 

He comes clattering back down the stairs in under a minute, black bag clasped in hand.

 

“Let’s check you out then.” Vanitas murmurs, sitting down onto the sofa and looking Dante in the eyes.

 

Vanitas’ gaze is always overwhelming. His attention is a dazzling thing to have upon you, and Dante can’t blame Noé for having become addicted to it. His blue eyes bore into Dante’s form, the concern and concentration on him making Dante feel a certain kind of way that he wished he didn’t. He thinks it’s been too long for him to still have the excuse of blaming Noé’s aphrodisiac.

 

“Can I feel your pulse Dante?” He asks.

 

Noé has softened Vanitas into a gentler thing, that much is undeniable. Whereas in the past he would have just said something along the lines of ‘give me your arm’, he now asks for permission, apologises more. It’s all very odd, and only serves to make Dante feel more embarrassed.

 

“Hm.” Vanitas says, frowning when he presses two fingers gloved up to the pulse point at Dante’s wrist. “That’s… not great. It’s a little fast.”

 

“No need to point that out jackass…” Dante grumbles indignantly.

 

Vanitas sighs. “Dante, tachycardia is a symptom of blood loss, I’m trying to make sure you don’t bite it in your sleep.”

 

“I’ll be fine.” He says. “I’m feeling much better.”

 

Vanitas’ eyes flick to look at Johann, as if taking his word over Dante’s. Rude.

 

“He does look better.” Johann says. “His complexion at least. And he still seems fairly spritely.”

 

“Hm.” Vanitas says shortly, still not convinced. He pulls the thing with the bulb and dial out from his bag, Dante forgot its name (assuredly a long one), but remembers it’s for blood pressure.

 

“You’re not feeling dizzy or lightheaded?” Vanitas inquires. “No headache?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you feel pain in your chest? Coldness in your hands or feet?”

 

“Quack, seriously, I’m good. You just felt my hands didn’t you? They don’t feel cold to me at least.”

 

Vanitas huffs. “Well, I’ll just check your blood pressure. If that’s alright I’ll let you go.”

 

Black gloved hands hold his forearm. A cuff is secured around it. Vanitas focuses, checking the dial readings. At last he sighs in barely concealed relief.

 

“Fine, it looks like it’s okay. You can go to bed. Johann, keep an eye on him.”

 

“Yes sir.” Johann says, facetiously. “I’ll keep a very good eye indeed.”

 

Dante feels a pair of hands squeeze his shoulders, possessive. He sighs.

 

“Good to hear. Now then.” Vanitas turns.

 

 

Poor Noé, who had been waiting a while. As he’s being helped towards the stairs, Dante pretends not to be in earshot of Vanitas, voice lowering to a much softer tone, and crouching by Noé to check on him.

 

“Hey. How’re you holding up?” He whispers.

 

Noé makes a strained noise.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, not surprising. I can’t give you any more painkillers for another few hours though, sorry.”

 

“‘Ts okay.” Noé mumbles. “Just tired.”

 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Vanitas murmurs gently. “I want to check on your wounds again now that I have my bag and better supplies. Then we can get you to bed yeah?”

 

Noé hums.

 

 

“Dante?” Right, Johann is waiting.

 

—-

 

It’s a room on the first floor, a nice one with a double bed and an en suite.

 

Their bats flutter in, and immediately take to roosting on the windowsill.

 

Dante drops his coat and blazer on a chair and flops down onto the plush bed.

 

If this is the reward for his prior actions today then it may well be worth it. He hasn’t slept on a bed this nice in ages.

 

Johann walks into the bathroom, and returns with a semi filled basin and a red flannel, sitting down on the bed next to Dante.

 

“Can I take a look at where he bit you?” Johann’s voice is level, though there’s tension beneath.

 

“Sure.” Dante says, sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt.

 

 

Johann finds the pin, removes it, and unwraps the bandages holding the dressing in place.

 

Dante hears the flannel dip into the basin on Johann’s lap and be wrung. Then it wipes across his neck, and Dante can’t help but shiver at the feeling of the cold water.

 

“Okay. At least it seems he has some feeding etiquette.” Johann mutters.

 

Dante feels around for the bite mark and only finds two small pinpricks, already healing up. That’s good.

 

“He could have taken quite a bit less blood though.” Johann adds with a click.

 

“Johann look, you don’t even know what happened. Noé only needed that blood because he took a hit meant for me. How could I not give him my blood after that?”

 

Johann humphs.

 

“It was really nasty, he was badly slashed in two places, blood everywhere. I really didn’t think he was going to make it. Neither did the Quack. I… don’t think I would have survived an injury like that.”

 

Johann stiffened.

 

“Anyway, we’re all still here, which is good, and the cursebearer is cured.”

 

“He drank your blood.” Johann said, cooly.

 

“He did. I told him to, he didn’t want to.”

 

Johann pursed his lips. “Well I suppose it’s unfortunate all round then. Neither of you wanted it.”

 

Dante sighs. “Pretty much. It wasn’t as though he forced himself on me. It was almost the other way around.”

 

“…Did you talk about what he saw?” Johann asks, getting to the crux of the matter once more.

 

“No. I have no idea how much or how little he saw. I still have no idea how his powers work.”

 

A sharp exhale left Johann’s nose. “Great. We have no idea how much he knows then.”

 

“What do you think he’s going to do?” Dante asks.

 

“I don’t know. But just know I never agreed to this.” Johann says, voice bitter.

 

“I’m sorry.” Dante whispers. “I wasn’t trying to compromise you.”

 

“…Well you did, like it or not.” Johann mutters.

 

“I really am sorry.” Dante breathes.

 

There is a long pause of silence.

 

Johann exhales. “Well, at least he’s the most useless of the bunch to have any information. A vampire who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

 

Dante nods.

 

“And.. it’s not like he chose to be cursed with such an ability.” Johann says, a sudden hint of pity in his eyes. “It sounds a rather miserable thing.”

 

Dante hums. “He was in a bad state you know, afterwards. Mumbling and couldn’t recognise where he was, who he was. Apparently that’s normal for him.”

 

“Christ.” Johann says, pinching his nose bridge.

 

“Yeah. He’s.. well, I found out some more stuff from him, when we talked after you left.” Dante says softly. “Apparently coming to Paris was the first time he’d left his estate. Like, at all.”

 

“Well that’s hardly surprising given how he acts.” Johann says dryly, crossing his arms.

 

“Yeah but… the more I learn the worse it seems to get.” Dante admits. “I think there’s lots of stuff the fella doesn’t talk about.”

 

“He’s entitled to his privacy.” Johann says brusquely. “As are we.”

 

“Yeah, I know, just…” Dante was running out of energy and words. Johann was always difficult to talk to when he was in a bad mood, and Dante was running on much less than usual of his brain capacity. “I don’t know.”

 

Johann sighs, and then reaches over to cradle Dante’s cheek, before giving him a short kiss there. Apparently saying nothing was the right idea after all. Dante sighs in relief.

 

“Time for some rest, I think.” Johann says decisively, taking off his glasses and setting them aside on a bedside table, shedding his coat and taking off his tie.

 

Dante mumbles in agreement, fulling taking off his shirt and placing it on the pile of his other clothes on a nearby chair.

 

Johann takes the basin back the the bathroom and tips it out, hangs the flannel up to dry, before hopping into bed.

 

Johann slips under the covers, eyes flickering up at Dante.

 

“…For the record, I am glad you’re still alive.” He says gently.

 

Dante smiles. “Glad to hear it.”

 

Johann’s pale, slender hand comes over to caress his cheek. Dante leans into it. It’s nice to have some PDA when the kids aren’t around. Shit. The kids.

 

He jolts, and Johann looks alarmed.

 

“I- are the kids alright? Do they know what’s going on? I can’t even remember what I wrote in the note I sent you.”

 

“Goodness, calm down.” Johann mutters, brushing a thumb across Dante’s eyebrow. “Don’t you think I would’ve dealt with it? Do you think I just organised that cab and forgot all about them? I’m not quite so careless.”

 

“Ah, I.. sorry.” Dante says sheepishly.

 

“Riche and Monique are on duty tonight. I told them I might be back late, or in the morning. I didn’t know what sort of state you were in but I knew it must have been bad.”

 

“Right. I’m sorry.” Dante sighs, hanging his head.

 

“You did give me a fright you know. I’ve never seen your handwriting so poor in a note before. Or see you misspell any words.” Johann’s eyes look soft.

 

“Oh… yeah, I was pretty out of it.”

 

“Yes, and you took a while to wake back up again. I thought dear Noé might have drained you dry.” Johann says, voice uneasy.

 

“That was my fault. I left him drinking too long. The Quack had to stop it.” Dante sighs.

 

“Could dear Noé not have come to his senses by himself?” Johann says tersely.

 

“I.. actually don’t think so. He goes into a trance, or that’s what it looks like. It’s kinda scary if I’m honest. He can’t do a thing, just goes still.” Dante scratches his head awkwardly.

 

Johann exhales. “That sounds easy to take advantage of.”

 

Dante grimaces. “….Yeah.”

 

“Sounds like what that lovely Jean-Jacques person did.” Johann murmured, lips curled in disgust.

 

“Look, I don’t really know what happened in Gévaudan.” Dante said with a sigh. “I just heard him apologise for making Noé drink his blood when I was supposed to be escorting him to the docks.”

 

“…How on earth did he even do that? Noé was surely stronger than him.” Johann muttered.

 

“Drugged the fella I think. That’s what I remember hearing at the time.” Dante said.

 

“Ugh.” Johann murmured. “Vile.”

 

“Yeah well. I don’t think the Quack’ll let him anywhere near Noé in the future after that admission. Even though Noé said he wanted to see him again.” Dante huffed.

 

“Good.” Johann said bluntly. “That man has no self preservation. I’m sure that’s partly how we got in this mess now.”

 

“I- look, Johann, that’s not what happened.” Dante sighs heavily.

 

“He’s far too casual about taking major injuries- I mean look what happened to his arm in Gévaudan. He just thinks he can keep getting injured, over and over, with no consequences. Well look what happened, it finally went too far, and he needed someone’s blood. Lots of it.” Johann’s nose scrunched up.

 

“He wasn’t being reckless.” Dante whispered. “Not this time. It was my fault, I distracted the cursebearer and it came towards me. If he hadn’t stopped it, I’d be dead. If I hadn’t given him blood, he’d be dead.”

 

The two of them are silent for a little while longer.

 

“Fine.” Johann says. “Whatever, I’m too tired to argue.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to argue with you…” Dante murmurs. “I..”

 

“Shush. Just be quiet. I understand what you’ve been trying to say, alright? I’ll stop pushing.” Johann grumbles.

 

Dante is too tired to do otherwise, so he does go quiet, though he feels disquieted.

 

“Stop thinking about it.” Johann says, noticing the furrow in his brow. “I’ve been keeping you up too much, you need sleep, alright?”

 

“Mm.” Dante replies.

 

A couple of seconds pass.

 

“May I touch you?” Johann asks.

 

“Mhm.”

 

Johann embraces him, gentle and mindful of his neck, which isn’t even really sore anymore. Dante sighs, and relaxes into the touch. One of Johann’s hands strays to the back of his head, stroking there.

 

“I’ll wake you up at a reasonable time tomorrow, so don’t worry about it.”

 

“Thank you.” Dante mumbles. Johann has always been more the insomniac out of the two of them, though Dante isn’t unacquainted with sleepless nights. Either way, he tends to find Johann waking at the crack of dawn, even when La Ruche is buried deep underground.

 

Dante isn’t a morning person. And this bed is calling to him like a siren. Soft and plush, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer, not with Johann’s gentle hands easing the last stress out of his body.

 

—-

 

He wakes, drooling on his pillow, to Johann’s touch on his shoulder.

 

“Whuh-?” He slurs, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and trying to ascertain his location. He is confused for a couple of seconds, before remembering where he is.

 

“Good morning.” Johann says, voice like silk. “How are you feeling?”

 

Johann is knelt on the bed, redressed, hair neatly in place. He smiles softly, though there’s a slight look of something in his eyes, behind his shaded glasses… guilt?

 

Dante is confused. “I’m alright, yeah. You?”

 

“Mm, I’m good.” Johann says. “And.. I want to apologise. My behaviour yesterday was… unfair, especially towards you.”

 

Oh, that.

 

“C’mon Johann, it’s alright-“

 

“I handled that situation poorly, there’s no need to sugarcoat it.” Johann sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I apologise on taking it out on the two of you.”

 

“You are forgiven.” Dante says with a smile, sitting up to kiss him. Johann leans forward, completing it, a soft noise, before the two part.

 

“I’m sure Noé’s forgiven you too.” Dante continues.

 

Johann huffs slightly, eyes downcast under pale eyelashes. “I almost wish he wouldn’t.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dante mutters, brushing a thumb under his eye bags, noticeably darker than usual. “…Did you sleep at all last night?”

 

“Not much.” Johann admits. “But enough. I woke up early this morning. Amelia told me there’s breakfast between eight and ten, so I decided to wake you up at nine in case you were interested.”

 

Dante grinned. “I definitely am. A hotel buffet on the Quack’s tab? What could be better than that?”

 

Johann sighed fondly. “Honestly. Don’t be a child Dante.”

 

Dante stuck out his tongue. “Anyway, did you spot the Quack? He’s an early riser too.”

 

“I did, as a matter of fact, and spoke to him for a bit.” Johann recounts. “He’s much more mellow these days, I hardly recognise him. I asked after Noé, and he said he was going to let the poor thing lie in, considering he probably needed it. Before I go I’ll ask Vanitas to pass on my apology to him when he wakes.”

 

Dante yawns and stretches. “That’s a bit much isn’t it? You already apologised last night.”

 

Johann picked up Dante’s shirt and plopped it next to him. “It wouldn’t do any harm, I don’t think.”

 

Dante rubbed a hand in his hair. “Yeah, I guess…. do you have a comb on you?”

 

Johann smiled and drew one out of his blazer pocket, handing over to Dante.

 

“Thanks.”

 

—-

 

After a few minutes of face washing, hair brushing and dressing, Dante is ready to go out the door, and waves goodbye to the two little roosting bats before heading out.

 

Breakfast is a large and varied buffet, Amelia has clearly gone all out despite usually being a hotel with very little occupants. Johann smiles. “My word, what a spread.”

 

Dante’s stomach rumbles as he looks across the food. He doesn’t remember the last time has had such a nice breakfast, and as previously mentioned, one that was going to be fully paid for by the Quack. Well, he’d have to get his money’s worth with this chance.

 

“Sit down.” Johann says softly. “Let me know what you’d like to get and I’ll pick it up for you.”

 

Dante sighs, but sits down anyway. “Look I’m fine now. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own food.”

 

“And what if I wanted to spoil you?” Johann says mischievously.

 

“Well, that’s nice too.” Dante blushes.

 

Hearing footsteps, Dante turns to the doorway and spots Amelia who smiles.

 

“Good morning gentlemen. Would you like any hot drinks or food?”

 

Dante looks at Johann. “Some tea would be lovely, thank you Mademoiselle Amelia.”

 

“I’d like a coffee as well if that’s alright.” Dante says.

 

“Of course! Anything else?”

 

“I think that’s perfect for now, thank you dear.” Johann says, and Amelia blushes.

 

Then, with a rustle of skirts, she’s gone.

 

“Dante, what would you like?” Johann asks, craning his head around.

 

“Oh, um.. yeesh, everything looks good, I’m not sure. Maybe the pain au chocolat? And uh, some of the yoghurt and…”

 

—-

 

Johann eventually brings back a loaded plate with croissants, fruit, bread, meat, cheese and yoghurt, and a glass of orange juice.

 

“Thanks, you really didn’t have to. What are you thinking of having?”

 

“Mm, maybe some yoghurt. I’m not particularly hungry.”

 

Johann walks back up to the buffet when the sound of shuffling comes through the hallway. Both Dante and Johann pause, listening.

 

“Hi.” A voice says, as two figures appear in the doorframe.

 

Vanitas is stood with an eager looking Noé, whose weight he seems to be supporting. Or at least trying to. Noé seems insisting on leaning over and waving.

 

“Good morning! How are you guys?”

 

Johann puts down his bowl. “Good morning.”

 

“Hey, morning fella.” Dante says. “Much better, you?”

 

“Yeah! Way better! I got loads of sleep. Vanitas said he wanted me to have a lie in, but I didn’t want to miss you guys before you go. Are you enjoying the breakfast?”

 

“We’re just about to have it.” Dante says. “It looks delicious though.”

 

Noé nods enthusiastically. “It is! Mlle Amelia is excellent at cooking!”

 

“Noé, stop moving quite so much.” Vanitas grumbles. “You wouldn’t want to get blood on your cardigan right?”

 

Noé wilts a little. “Ah, sorry.”

 

Vanitas is fully dressed, whereas Noé is still in the clothes from yesterday (minus the trousers which had been a little splattered with blood, wearing a loose pair of pyjama bottoms instead). It’s strange to see Vanitas fully dressed up in spats, and Noé in a thin white pair of slippers. He looks like he’s just rolled out of bed. His hair looks that way too, mussed and fluffy.

 

Still, he looks well rested and bright eyed, and you’d hardly imagine that he came so close to dying yesterday, body cold and blood soaking the floor. As much as he’d like him to feel better, it’s almost a bit too jarring, Dante thinks.

 

“Where would you like to sit?” Vanitas asks.

 

“Um..” Noé looks a little bashful. “On the table next to Dante’s… if that’s alright with you Dante?”

 

Dante smiles. “Course it is.”

 

Vanitas helps him down into a chair at that table, and Noé sighs, evidently relieved of some pain. Vanitas waits a few seconds before asking what he’d like to eat.

 

“Everything, really.” Noé says with a smile. “It all looks fantastic.”

 

“Alright. Do you want the black pudding too?” Vanitas says, looking at the spread.

 

“Black pudding? What’s that?” Noé asks, cocking his head to the side.

 

“It’s like a sausage made with blood.” Vanitas explains. “It’ll be good for you to have to make up for yesterday. And for Dante too.”

 

“Don’t worry.” Johann chirped. “I was sure to give him some too.”

 

“Good good.” Vanitas says.

 

Noé scoots his chair a bit closer to Dante.

 

“Are you feeling better Dante?” His eyes are shining with sincerity and worry. Dante has half the mind to ruffle his hair.

 

“Much better, don’t worry. I slept well, the beds here are amazing.”

 

“That’s good to hear! I’m glad you liked it.” Noé smiles brightly.

 

 

Vanitas walks over with the plate, somehow even more filled than Dante’s had been, and Johann had been generous. Dante hadn’t eaten much with Noé but it seems he has a large appetite.

 

Vanitas sets it down. “Bon appetit, Monsieur.” He says with a flourish.

 

Noé giggles. “Vanitas, you’re a natural waiter. You should come and work in the café too, they’d love you there!”

 

Suddenly Vanitas blushes. “Don’t be annoying Noé.”

 

“I’m not! I mean it. I bet you’d look good in the uniform too.” He smiles

 

Vanitas’ face goes redder. Dante remembers seeing the black leather corset with several buckles.

 

“I- there’s no way you can expect me to be spotted dead in that..” he grumbles, ears burning red.

 

“Aw, harsh.” Noé says sadly. “I quite like it.”

 

“Well yes, that’s because you look good in it.” Vanitas mumbles, eyes looking away.

 

Noé seems completely oblivious to Vanitas’ turmoil. “Thanks!”

 

Johann is watching the whole thing with a wry smile on his face. Dante thinks he ought to put an end to Vanitas’ torment. He clears his throat.

 

“Quack, would you like anything to eat?” He says, spotting his empty plate.

 

“Nope. I’m good.”

 

Noé frowns. “You should at least have something. And get a drink too.” Noé, rather unsurprisingly, has a glass of apple juice.

 

“I’ll get a coffee.” Vanitas says.

 

“And?” Noé raises an eyebrow.

 

Vanitas pushes his chair out, walks up and grabs a bunch of grapes, dropping it onto his plate and coming back. “Happy?”

 

Noé smiles. “Yup!”

 

With a grumble, Vanitas plucks a grape and tosses into his mouth. Noé takes that as an invitation to start eating too, as does Johann and Dante.

 

“Mmmm.” Noé mumbles with his mouth full. “‘Ish good.”

 

“Do you guys hit eat the breakfast here regularly?” Dante asks.

 

“Not very often, no.” Vanitas says. “We have accommodation here for free, but we have to pay for laundry and food. There are cheaper options in the city if I’m honest.”

 

Dante suddenly realises that this means Vanitas’ll likely be paying for four buffets, which might have been the reason he tried to avoid having food himself.

 

“Ah shit, do you want me to pay for mine?” He says awkwardly, crumbs on his face.

 

Vanitas wafts a hand. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry. I’m hardly strapped for cash.”

 

The ever present mystery of ‘where Vanitas sources his income’ buzzes in Dante’s mind, but unless it’s the rare occasion that Vanitas willingly reveals personal information, asking will probably only receive a lie or a taunt.

 

 

“I can pay.” Noé says proudly.

 

“There’s no need, we agreed to this yesterday.” Vanitas explains. “But thank you for offering.”

 

“Hm.” Noé mumbles. “If you say so. -Mm! This black pudding stuff is really nice!”

 

 

“You’ve never had it before?” Dante asks.

 

“Nope! It tastes great.” Noé says, smiling.

 

“I wonder if it’s made with human blood.” Johann says with a smile.

 

Noé drops his fork, face horrified. “What?!!”

 

“Johann.” Dante sighs. “Stop it.”

 

“Well, it’s a vampire hotel isn’t it? That wouldn’t be so surprising.”

 

Noé jitters. “I mean… I guess so? But couldn’t they take it from other vampires… or…??”

 

Vanitas sighs. “It’s from pork, don’t worry Noé.”

 

“Oh, phew..” Noé sags in his chair.

 

“Sorry Noé darling, didn’t mean to give you a fright.” Johann says, slightly apologetic, and Dante thinks it might actually be genuine.

 

“Mm, well…” Noé muses, a finger to his cheek. “Grandma and Granpa used to try and feed me animal blood but it just made me sick, so they didn’t do it for long.”

 

The whole room goes a bit quiet.

 

Grandparents…? Noé had never mentioned them before, Dante thinks. Evidently they weren’t vampires, and for a brief moment the concept of Noé being a dham enters Dante’s brain. No, that’s not right, they were probably just adoptive grandparents. But if so, how on earth did Noé end up going from the care of superstitious rural humans to the de Sades?? If Dante’s honest with himself, he isn’t sure if he wants to find out.

 

“What did they think would happen.” Vanitas grumbles. “Vampires don’t have the immune systems of pigeons.”

 

“I think they thought I needed it, but I didn’t, so they never gave me more.” Noé smiles, wistfully.

 

“Mm. Lovely..” Johann says, looking a little awkward.

 

 

Amelia steps into the room. “Your drinks, Monsieur Dante and Monsieur Johann- oh! Monsieur Vanitas and Monsieur Noé! It’s nice to see you two as well.”

 

“Good morning Amelia!” Noé says cheerfully.

 

“Morning.” Vanitas says with a nod of his head.

 

She sets down the teapot, teacup and coffee. “Would you two like any drinks?”

 

“No thank you.” Noé says.

 

“The same as what Dante’s having if that’s still on offer.” Vanitas gestures.

 

“It most certainly is! I’ll get that on for you right away.” Amelia says, with a nod.

 

She looks excited, Dante thinks. He wonders if this is the most residents the hotel gets in a while.

 

“Thanks Amelia.” Vanitas says.

 

She leaves once more.

 

 

Johann sips his tea contemplatively. The atmosphere is nice, Dante thinks, and he could easily spend a little while here in an ideal world. But he has a job to do and kids to look after, so he probably needs to hurry up a little for their sake.

 

The food is delicious, all of it, and Noé seems similarly happy, tucking in with a pleased expression. Vanitas languidly pops a grape into his mouth every now and then.

 

A soft ‘meow’ calls from the doorway, and expecting Murr, Dante spots a little black cat with a blue ribbon round its neck instead.

 

“Flute!” Noé exclaims happily. “Hello!”

 

The slender cat trots up to him, and rubs against his legs, before sitting at his chair, eyes pleading.

 

“Ah- sorry Flute, you can’t have any of the meat here, it’s much too salty for you. Oh- but maybe the black pudding?” He looks over at Vanitas for advice.

 

“I wouldn’t. I’m not sure it’s cat friendly.” He warns.

 

Noé sighs. “Well, that’s the verdict Flute, I’m terribly sorry.”

 

He scratches her chin and she lets out a meow. “I know, I know.”

 

Dante catches Vanitas smiling fondly at Noé, as does Johann who lets out a huff of amusement, which Vanitas notices and turns bright red.

 

“The hotel cat?” Johann asks.

 

“That’s right!” Noé says happily. “She’s very friendly, I’m sure she’d be happy to make your acquaintance.” Flute meows again, as if in agreement.

 

“Ah.. I see..” Johann says.

 

“Noé they’re eating, they probably don’t want to touch a cat.” Vanitas says bluntly.

 

“Oh Flute.” Noé coos. “Vanitas is being awfully mean isn’t he. You’re not dirty.” Flute meows. “There there, don’t take it to heart, he doesn’t mean it.” Noé strokes her ear.

 

Vanitas sticks a thumb in Noé’s direction. “He’s only like this with Flute because his own cat deprives him of affection.”

 

“And now you’re slandering Murr.” Noé tsks. “He is affectionate… he just.. shows it in different ways.”

 

 

Really? Dante thinks of the many times he’s seen that cat clawing up his owner’s face.

 

Vanitas huffs. “Uh huh. Whatever you say.”

 

 

“Your coffee Monsieur Vanitas!” Amelia calls brightly, bringing it into the room. “I- Flute?!! What are you doing here-? You’re not supposed to be in the dining room, I- I’m terribly sorry gentlemen.”

 

She sets down the coffee on the table and immediately scoops up Flute, who does little more than meow and be limp in her arms.

 

“No harm done.” Johann says with a cordial smile.

 

“Aw, sorry Flute.” Noé says. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

 

“You can see her another time Monsieur Noé, but not here. There is a strict rule against that, isn’t there?” Amelia shakes a finger in Flutes face disapprovingly, who swishes her tail in defiance.

 

Amelia bundles her up. “This might be my fault actually. This is normally her breakfast time as well, I haven’t fed her yet. Don’t worry Flute, I’ll do that right away.”

 

Pausing suddenly, probably remembering that she’s talking to a cat in front of guests, Amelia looks embarrassed. “Ah- unless anyone would like anything else?”

 

“We’re good Amelia.” Vanitas says with a smile. “The food is very delicious, thank you.”

 

Dante nods in agreement. Noé nods even more.

 

“Ah, glad to hear it.” She smiles. “Please come to reception when you’d like to check out.” She says, nodding to Dante.

 

With that, she leaves the room.

 

“Oh right, are you guys going soon?” Noé asks, looking a little sad.

 

“Yeah, probably fairly soon.” Dante says, looking across at Johann, inscrutable as always behind his glasses.

 

“Mhm.” Johann says. “We have some other business to attend to.”

 

“I’m sure.” Noé says sympathetically. “I hope we haven’t held you up too long.”

 

Johann shakes his head. “Not at all. And I’d like to talk to you before I go.”

 

Vanitas frowns at that, and Dante can practically see alarm bells ringing in his head. His somewhat overprotective tendencies have been manifesting themselves as of lately, though Dante can hardly blame him after some of the things that have happened to Noé.

 

“Me?” Noé asks, confused. “Uh, sure. Do you mean alone?”

 

Johann nods.

 

“Hang on.” Vanitas says, looking suspicious. “What for?”

 

Noé smiles. “It’s alright Vanitas, don’t worry.”

 

“I’m not worried.” He says brusquely. “Just confused why everyone’s randomly becoming all secretive.”

 

Ignoring him, Noé turns to Johann. “Would you like to talk now? I can if you’d like.”

 

Johann nods. “If you you wouldn’t mind.”

 

Noé goes to stand and Vanitas comes round to help him up, eyebrows furrowing as Noé evidently winces in pain. “Just wait a minute. If you’re not feeling up to it then-“

 

“I’m alright.” Noé says softly, brushing back a strand of hair behind Vanitas’ ear who goes a little pink.

 

“Okay. Fine.” He grumbles, letting Noé go off with Johann, but still looking confused and nervous.

 

 

 

“Dante, do you have any idea what the hell is going on?” He says tersely, plucking a grape from the stem. He eyes Dante with distrust.

 

“Think so, yeah. He’s probably apologising to Noé.” Dante says with a sigh

 

“Apologising?” Vanitas’ expression grows more unsettled, and his voice more accusatory. “What for? What happened while I was gone?”

 

Dante realises now that Noé had in fact not talked about this with Vanitas, and almost wishes he’d left his mouth shut. “Uhh, nothing that bad, he was just in a bad mood last night and a bit harsh with Noé.”

 

Vanitas narrows his eyes. “What sort of things did he say?”

 

“Look Quack, I’m serious, it wasn’t that bad. Just told him to stop moving to stop him from tearing his stitches, that sort of thing. He was just a bit sharp with him.”

 

“Was that really necessary while Noé was badly injured and unwell?” Vanitas says snidely.

 

“Yes, I know, it wasn’t, which is why Johann’s apologising now.”

 

“Hm.” Vanitas hums, lowly.

 

“He was tired and in a foul mood, but he recognised it and left the room to take a breather. I think that was the part that worried Noé the most though, because he thought he’d upset him.”

 

“What? Did he not apologise to Noé when he came back?” Vanitas says, frowning.

 

“Yeah, but it was short. I think he’d like to apologise in more depth now that he has the energy for it.” Dante explains.

 

Vanitas still looks unimpressed. “I don’t get it. Why was he tired and rude last night, it wasn’t like he was one of the people injured?”

 

Dante looks to the side awkwardly. “I think uh..”

 

Vanitas raises an eyebrow.

 

“He’s not happy that Noé saw my memories. Because they include him a lot, obviously. I agreed to it, but Johann didn’t.”

 

Vanitas is still frowning, but he seems to be thinking about it. At last he closes his eyes and sighs. Dante is acutely aware that Vanitas doesn’t have much ground to stand on in this argument, not when he nearly killed Noé over protecting his own memories.

 

“It’s not like Noé wanted to.” Vanitas says at last.

 

“I know.” Dante said softly.

 

Vanitas rubs his temples, letting out another sigh. “Well thanks for keeping him alive last night.”

 

“…He really would’ve died if you hadn’t.” Vanitas adds, voice quiet.

 

“I know.” Dante said. “Which is why I did it. I’m glad he’s alright now, I can imagine you’re a bit shaken up.”

 

Vanitas says nothing, which is essentially the same as an admission of emotion for him.

 

A few seconds of silence passes.

 

“Anyway Dante. You’ve got better hearing than me. Can you listen in on their conversation?” Vanitas grins, fang poking out.

 

“No, I’m not doing that.” Dante says rolling his eyes.

 

“Aww, you’re no fun. Boo.” Vanitas sticks out his tongue. “Aren’t you suppose to be an information broker?”

 

“I’m not going to stoop so low as to snoop on our partners Quack.” Dante sighs.

 

Vanitas immediately bristles, goes red, and hisses. “He’s not my-!”

 

“I didn’t mean romantically, calm down.” Dante placates. “Jeez.”

 

“We’re not like you two.” Vanitas says at last, cooly.

 

 

Are you not? Dante thinks, but doesn’t press for fear of provoking him further.

 

“Alright, I get it. No need to be derogatory.” Dante says.

 

“I.. I wasn’t, I didn’t mean it like that.” Vanitas stumbles hurriedly. “I’m not saying it’s bad, so to say, to be like that. Just that. I’m not that. We’re not like that.”

 

“Message received.” Dante says.

 

Vanitas looks like he’s about to say something else to defend himself when they suddenly hear Johann and Noé shuffling back in.

 

Dante does not miss the way Vanitas scans Noé immediately, looking concerned.

He notices just a second after Vanitas does, that Noé’s been crying, watching Vanitas bristle.

 

Despite having slightly reddened eyes, Noé is smiling.

 

“Hi.” He says, as Vanitas helps him sit down again, and he proceeds to pick at his plate again, nibbling on a bit of bread.

Vanitas looks like he’s about to sear a hole into Johann’s head with his eyes alone.

“Dante? Shall we be going?” Johann asks.

 

Dante sneaks one look back at Noé, who looks alright despite his slightly reddened eyes. “I hope you guys have a good day.”

 

Vanitas says nothing.

 

Dante nods. “Thanks fella. Yeah, let’s get on the road. I’ve got a fair bit of work to do.”

 

He stands up feeling nicely full and warm.

 

Noé stands up too, ignoring a chiding hiss from Vanitas.

 

Dante looks at the man, confused. He tilts his head a little, unwittingly, watching a strange bashful expression come over Noé’s face.

 

”Noé?”

 

”Um… Dante, could I hug you?”

 

His purple eyes shine with sincerity. What good would turning him down do?

 

”Course fella.” Dante says with a soft smile.

 

Noé wraps his arms around him, and Dante realises quite how much taller the other man is, though he’s exceedingly gentle with Dante, and being held by him actually feels nice.

 

The two part.

 

—-

 

On the road back home, Dante doesn’t ask, but Johann answers. “I just apologised to him, you know, and that’s all it took for him to cry.”

 

”I doubt he’s had many then.” Dante says gruffly. 

“Apologies? No..” Johann hums thoughtfully. “I don’t believe he has.”

 

”I wonder if the Quack will have your head for that.”

 

“Well, here’s to hoping dear Noé puts in a good word for me.”

 

”I’m sure he will.” Dante says, yawning.

 

—-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Not very happy with the ending but this was supposed to be under 2k and is now significantly over that so if I don’t post it now it’s never getting done lol. Dante & Noé ily

Extra notes for this: I had planned to maybe have a Dante drinking Johann’s blood scene, but decided against it considering we know very little about Dhampir abilities currently, and the answer as to whether Dhampirs drink blood may well be answered soon considering the current arc is focused on then, and that answer may well be that they don’t lol.

Also, I hope I didn’t paint Johann in such a bad light. I can imagine from his point of view Noé might come across as a pampered and privileged manchild, which I can imagine would feel annoying, particularly when Noé is already prodding into their personal lives with slight insensitivity in canon, let alone a scenario where Noé sees their memories.

I think even though Noé faces discrimination as an Archiviste (which we’ve seen directly multiple times), he still holds a degree of fairly strong privilege from his upbringing, despite it being under the circumstances it was under. I think even if he was aware of more things from Noé’s childhood, Johann would still hold the fact that Noé has a significant material advantage in life against him.

I don’t know how well known the fact is that Johann and Noé were originally the same character in Mochijun’s early drafts of the series, but it’s so interesting to me. I chew on character parallels. I hope we get to see more of Johann in the future because he’s easily the most secretive of the characters.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of Noé hurt/comfort stuff