Chapter Text
She should've known it wouldn't be that easy.
The downhill spiral began with Sos's call.
"How did you find out?" Montie sighed into the phone and covered her eyes with her unused hand, defeated.
"Who rightly gives a shit how I found out?" The facade of cheer that had been in her younger brother's voice had disappeared completely. "What the fuck is the matter with you? You're housing a mass-murdering vampire? Alone?"
"I have Mao," came Montie's weak rebuttal.
"I don't give a shit if you've got the Queen of the Dead sharing your damned breakfast in the mornings. He's killed people, Montie, he's dangerous!"
"Well, so are you, Soso."
"That's different."
"How?" Montie said, indignantly.
"Because everyone and their mother knows I won't fuckin' murder you."
"Did whoever also tell you that Dio's terribly weak and sick?"
"Makes no difference. His personality is fucked."
"You don't know that." She felt her voice pitch up, hurt. "You haven't met him, you can't say that."
"I don't need to meet him, Montie. You can't fucking fix him. You can't fix that."
It certainly didn't help Montie's confidence that there was a nagging voice in her head that agreed with him. When she didn't say anything in response, Sos continued. "I'm in a bit of a fuckshow right now, but rest assured, I will be back there."
The death threat was nonverbal and overwhelming.
Sos hung up and Montie did the same. Who could have told him? She was sure she'd told nothing revealing to Yid, but--
"Woman! Where is my food?" Dio hollered from his bed. "You're useless! Hurry up!"
Montie squatted down where she was stood and felt tears run down her face.
When she managed to pull herself together, she gave Dio his soup, but not before he had a horrific coughing fit. That made her feel awful. She tried to ask if he was alright, but he only barked at her to get out. She did so and went to the kitchen once more, to get herself something to eat this time. The rest of the day passed in a relative blur and she was grateful to fall into her bed at the end of it.
It wasn't long after she'd fallen asleep when she was woken up to a loud banging on the door. A quick glance at the clock read 2:42 a.m., and she groaned loudly. What could anybody possibly want at this hour?
Outside stood a woman in an open lab coat and something resembling a sports bra, carrying a doctor's bag and clipboard. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and mostly covered by a bandanna. "Puv'Mordi'Opnai. Where is the patient?" She had a clipped voice, and a very faint Temple accent. Montie was too surprised to really react, other than to turn and lead Puv to where Dio was sleeping.
"You should stay out. I get the feeling being doctored in front of you would be a blow to his pride."
That woke Montie up. "What? But he's my roommate!" She glanced nervously at the door, then back to the might-as-well-be-stranger. She didn't trust her alone with him all that much, but she was a doctor, and she'd called her here personally. She couldn't kick the woman out. "I want to help him. Not to mention I've also helped him to the bathroom several times a day for a while. I don't think his pride has much to do with it."
"Mmhmm," hummed Puv. "Well, introduce me to him, and we can go from there." Montie didn't particularly care for the somewhat manic smirk that Puv wore as she let her into Dio's room, but as before, nothing to be done now.
"Um, Dio?" Montie gently shook the man by the shoulder, drawing a groan from him.
"What?" He rubbed his eyes. "Do you have any idea what ungodly hour it is, woman?"
Montie winced. "I know, it's late, I'm sorry. But I've got the doctor I mentioned with me."
Dio managed to sit up with only a little help from Montie, which he rewarded with a menacing snarl. Montie ignored him and turned the light on.
"I'm Puv'Mordi'Opnai," the titular doctor said, briskly opening her suitcase. "Let's begin, then, hm?"
Dio narrowed his eyes at her, and then Montie. This prompted the brown-haired girl to ask, "Do you want me to stay?"
Dio stared at her for a minute, then replied, "Go sleep, woman. I'm not a toddler in need of a nanny."
Montie winced, but did as he said, dejected. She half expected Puv to look smug, but she seemed rather distracted by her medical supplies.
The next morning, Montie woke up and practically ran to the kitchen. Puv had left already, but there was a note on the table, next to a huge stack of pill bottles. The note read as follows:
Dio is not especially well, but certainly not dying as we speak. Provided are some vitamins, supplements, cold medicine, immune system boosters and a tea that I hope he'll like. It's better for him than coffee and he could use the caffeine. Worry not, he does interest me. Would've given him cyanide if he hadn't :)
First month's supply is on me. I expect 10,000 Temple Currency next visit for more.
-Puv'Mordi'Opnai
Montie's first reaction, after dealing with Sos and others like him, was to immediately check the drugs to see if they were indeed not poisonous. The labels were all accurate to her knowledge, and she tried one of the more harmless looking multivitamins, and that seemed alright.
Her second reaction was to choke on a sob. 10,000 Temple Currency was $13,000 Canadian. She didn't have even a quarter of that! How would she ever be able to--
"Woman! Get me something to drink!"
Her head once again fell to the table with a thud. She tried to wipe the newly formed tears from her eyes, failed at thatm and then grabbed a glass of water. She also picked out Dio's dose of the medication for the day. She didn't bother to knock and let herself in.
"Here," she said, handing him the glass, then the pills, and tried to wipe her eyes again discreetly. Dio looked at her with a scowl, tinged with something else, but Montie didn't say anything about it. "Take those. Puv said to."
"I know, I was there."
"Fine." Montie waited until he finished drinking, took back the empty cup, and left with a promise to fix him breakfast soon.
"I told you, I don't need a--"
"A nanny, I know," she didn't snap, per se, nor did she turn around, but her voice was sharper than it usually was. Had she turned, she'd have seen his gobsmacked look. But that didn't happen, and off she went back to the safety she recently found in the kitchen.
After a few minutes she was about to stand up and make some eggs when once again the phone rang. Montie took a big breath for some much needed confidence and picked it up.
"Montie speaking."
"Hey, Montie, how's it going?" The familiarity of the voice caught her off guard.
"Toto?"
"Guilty as charged."
"What's up?" She hadn't heard from him in a while, not since he'd moved. "Did something happen?"
"Oh, not really." There was a brief silence. "Sos talked to me last night."
Montie's stomach dropped to the floor. "I see."
"How's that situation going?"
"It--," Montie started, but stopped, then began again. "Oh, gods, Toto, I don't know what to do."
She recounted the past few days, rasping through her worries, one after another. Toto listened quietly, humming sympathetically intermittently.
"It was Ian," the priest-to-be said. Montie had just been wondering rhetorically who had informed Sos. "Seriously, you thought he wouldn't tell him and risk getting on his shit list?"
"How do you know?"
"He told me. He's not secretive, Montie. Told me all about it."
"I see. I suppose he told you his opinion on the matter, too," she barked a laugh, bitterly.
"Yeah." Another pause, then a sigh. "Look, Montie, it sounds really rough. But listen. You're smart. You'll figure this out. For what it's worth, I think you're doing a good thing."
"Really?" Montie clung to the phone like a lifeline.
"Really. Trust me, by the way, I won't tell the Temple Head. And I'll keep Sos away from there for now."
"Thank you, Toto."
"Anytime. Now, I need to make another call. Bye-bye, hon."
"Alright, bye."
On that note, Montie rose from the floor, filed the note from Puv inter her rapidly growing 'Dio' file, and dried some eggs.
She would not be beaten by this, darn it. What was she doing, pouting? That never helped anyone.
When she gave Dio his eggs he didn't say anything, and even nodded curtly, before yelling at her to leave for the principle of the thing.
Montie counted that as a win, or at least a start.