Work Text:
It happened while he was dancing with Dominique at another Bal Masqué, made somewhat difficult as he still only had the use of one arm. He’d been spending more time with her in general after the scare he’d had of losing her. It was a comfort just to feel her in his arms, firm in the knowledge she wouldn’t disappear. Not like Louis. But as he’d twirled her about he caught a glimpse of him skulking about.
Perhaps “skulking” was an unkind phrase, but Noé didn’t have particularly warm feelings toward him at the moment, not after what he pulled. Besides, he was very clearly trying to blend as he trailed over to the staircase.
Unfortunately, Dominique noticed his frown and turned about. “Is that--?!” she began in outrage.
“Yes,” Noé replied frostily. “I believe so.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “How dare he; he knows he isn’t welcome here. I’ll escort him out--”
“No,” Noé interrupted gently, pulling her close again. “I’ll speak with him.”
“I can’t let you near him, not after…” She clenched her fists. “He could hurt you again.”
“He could,” Noé agreed. “But I don’t think he will. Furthermore, I want to speak with him.”
“You… want to?” Her eyebrows shot above her bangs.
“Yes.” Noé did want to speak with him. As angry as he was with Vanitas he also knew he had broken his word. If nothing else, he would like to apologize for that, even if Vanitas was unlikely to return the favor. “Besides,” Noé continued at her disbelieving stare, “if he’s here there are no doubt curse bearers. I can’t leave that alone.”
“I wish you would,” she murmured. “Being around him has only done you ill.”
Noé glanced down at his bandaged arm and considered the ache in his stomach. Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong. But Vanitas had also saved people, had cared about him as well at some point. He had to speak with him.
It was mad, but Noé had realized after they’d parted that that just might be a personality trait of his at this point.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he let her go. She was visibly upset, her eyes unusually bright, but she nodded and moved away. He’d need to apologize to her later or maybe explain better, but he could barely make sense of it to himself.
He was across the ballroom in no time flat. Vanitas’s scent was disguised, but there was no mistaking who it was.
“Vanitas,” he stated. The man froze briefly before turning towards him warily. Noé extended his working arm. “Dance with me.” It was not a request.
He was eyeing Noé’s hand like it might transform into a viper on the spot, but after a few agonizing moments he reached for it with a slender, gloved hand. “You can lead,” Noé continued. “It’s difficult with one arm.”
He could feel Vanitas flinch against him, but he acquiesced, placing a tentative arm about his waist as he held the other aloft. It was by far the most awkward, hostile dance Noé had ever engaged in in his life. No one paid them any attention; no one knew it was Vanitas for one and vampires didn’t much care what you were doing so long as you weren’t breaking propriety too openly.
Vanitas moved them about the dance floor awkwardly, like an automaton. The thought made Noé’s stomach lurch angrily.
“You’re here to save someone,” Noé finally said when the silence became too much. Vanitas wasn’t even meeting his eyes, his gaze trained solidly on some vague, indiscernible something over his shoulder.
“Yes,” Vanitas stated. They slowed down in their steps. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
“No.” Not even remotely. “Do you want help?”
Vanitas finally met his gaze then, his eyes wide in shock. Noé felt much the same. Had he actually just offered to work with him? After everything that had happened?
They were no longer dancing. They were simply staring at each other as other couples moved around them.
“You want to help me?” Vanitas said, stunned, echoing Noé’s own shock. “Why in the world--”
“It’s… the right thing to do,” Noé began hesitantly. But no, that wasn’t quite it. It was much worse than that. “I… can we speak somewhere else?”
Vanitas glanced about, seeming to realize how exposed they were to the entire ballroom. He gestured uneasily to the side of the room that opened to the balcony beyond through sloped pillars. Noé nodded in silent agreement and they made their way over. Distantly, he could make out Dominique far on the other side and he felt guilt crawl up his spine.
The sound of the party was distant now. Combined with the dark of night and the sweet scent of the underlying garden it was as if they’d departed into a wholly separate section of the manor. That eased his nerves somewhat, but as soon as Vanitas’s eyes were fixed on him again he felt that mix of anger and regret all over again.
“I’m sorry,” Noé blurted out. He’d never been one to prolong a difficult situation. “What I did was wrong even if the reasons why I did it were right. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to give me your blood. Drinking blood without consent,” his voice grew softer, “is a crime.”
He couldn’t tell what Vanitas’s expression was, so he continued, “But I’m also angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry with anyone.” The words were being torn out of him and he couldn’t stop now that he’d started. “Even if I’m nothing to you, even if we’re ‘strangers,’ how could you just let her suffer like that?!”
He was shaking now and he was definitely speaking louder than he should if he wanted to keep this conversation private. He turned away and rested his hands on the balustrade, desperately trying to compose himself. His eye--the one Vanitas had shot--stung as his it became more moist. He needed to get it together. There was a curse bearer somewhere out there that needed them--
“I can’t stand this about you,” Vanitas finally said, his voice unsteady. “After everything I did to you, your first thought is to apologize? And then ask why I wouldn’t help Dominique? Do you care, even remotely, about your own health, you utter fool.” Now he was close to yelling as well. Noé turned to find his face flushed, angry, shoulders trembling.
“This is how someone like you dies! All that power and you can’t even land a strike because someone weak decided to charge forward!”
“I had no intention of killing you,” Noé said coldly.
“Of course not,” he replied venomously. “You would never hurt the one who can fulfill your wishes, never harm someone so pathetically human. After all, you just wanted my blood. How noble. It’s amazing how your kind is always patronizing, even in their attempts at kindness.”
“It’s amazing how you have no problem inflicting your expectations on others even as you never explain them. It’s amazing how when your lack of explanation leads to that person’s loved ones being kidnapped and tortured by your relative, and yet it somehow has nothing to do with you!” Noé shouted back.
“You were just using me,” Vanitas whispered harshly.
“ You were just using me, ” Noé replied brokenly. “And don’t act like we were in agreement on that. You never said that was the arrangement, you--”
Oh, no. He raised a hand to cover his face as he turned away. Tears were coming unbidden and he’d thought he’d be more composed than this, but actually having to talk about it was making everything hurt so much more.
“You lied back then,” Noé forced out. “We’re not strangers. You don’t get to live with someone for months and save people together and still act like you can maintain that distance.” And I saw, he didn’t say. I saw how much you can care about someone in Mikhail’s memories. You’re not as cold as you think.
Although he certainly felt cold right now and Noé’s heart ached terribly.
The silence extended for a long time after that pronouncement. Noé didn’t look up; he suspected Vanitas had probably left and maybe that would be easier. Noé had said what he wanted to say and now he could get on with his life. He could watch over Dominique and act like his time with Vanitas had never happened. He might never get to save another curse bearer again, but he’d tried. He’d done what he could. He’d explain to Teacher and--
A hand rested tentatively on his shoulder. “Noé…” For the first time, there wasn’t anger or shock in Vanitas’s voice, but something much closer to what Noé felt himself.
The hand spasmed against his arm and Noé thought he’d leave, but then, “I’m sorry.”
Said so softly, so delicately, it was almost mere breath on the wind. But Noé heard it and knew what it meant for the person in question to say it.
“You’re… unexpected in so many ways,” he continued to Noé’s surprise. “It’s frustrating because I can’t combat it. I try to push you away and you just come back. I try to be cruel and you call me a hypocrite. You’re always asking about others even when you’re obviously the one in pain, and… I hate it.”
“You’re the reason I’m in pain,” Noé muttered, looking out at the garden. He didn’t want to look at Vanitas yet.
“I know.” His voice trembled.
Noé closed his eyes. “You fought very well.”
“You landed some good hits yourself. My ribs are still cracked.”
Noé laughed softly, morbidly. “Is that why you were moving so awkwardly as we danced?”
“Partially. I didn’t really expect you to approach me. It seemed…”
“Insane?”
“Yes.”
Noé nodded and finally turned to face him. Vanitas removed his hand. He looked thin and wan. “I think Domi is worried.”
“She has more sense than you.”
A deep breath. “Why didn’t you help her? Everything else I can forgive--” Vanitas arched a disbelieving brow. “--but that I can’t. Not without some kind of explanation.”
“Paying her any attention only gave Mikhail power.”
Noé stared in confusion. Vanitas shook his head in frustration. “The fastest way of saving her was to kill him. I can’t simply undo what The Book of Vanitas has already done. Mikhail could simply undo whatever fix I devised. It was pointless.”
“But… why wouldn’t you tell him what happened that day?” Why wouldn’t you tell me?
“Any knowledge of that day would have simply set him on a rampage,” he said darkly. “I doubt Dominique would have survived it.”
It didn’t ring wholly true, but Noé found he didn’t want to interrogate him any further about it. Dominique was safe; she’d revived herself. For now, that would have to do and…
Maybe Noé just wasn’t strong enough to really contemplate Vanitas being a cold-blooded murderer. He claimed to want to save vampires, no matter what that meant and Noé… Noé wanted to believe him because if Vanitas was lying about that then all vampires would hurt for it and he just wanted to prevent anyone from suffering Louis’s fate. If he didn’t help Vanitas, it would be like letting Louis die over and over again.
Dominique was right. He absolutely blamed himself for that day. He hated himself for being grateful to live more than anything else.
“All right,” he said. “That will do.”
“You can’t possibly mean that.”
Noé shrugged wearily. “I do. I…” I missed you. How pathetic. “I want to save vampires.”
“I see.” Vanitas clasped his hand. He glanced down in confusion; he must not have meant to do so. But then he shook his head in acceptance and reached out to cup Noé’s cheek. “Your eye is healed.”
“You just grazed the eyelid.”
Vanitas nodded to himself, then moved his hand down to rest gently upon Noé’s stomach. “And this?”
“...It stings still.”
He didn’t remove his hand, but he asked, “And your arm?”
Noé was honestly worried about his arm at this point. It didn’t seem to be getting better. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
Vanitas heaved a sigh, frustration and worry evident in equal measure. “How fortunate for you I’ve brought my supplies.”
“I don’t need treatment right now. Let’s find the curse bearer.”
“I’ve already wasted this much time and nothing has happened,” Vanitas muttered irritably. “A few more moments should be fine. Don’t argue,” he said pointedly as Noé moved to do just that.
Grudgingly, Noé moved to allow Vanitas to get him out of his jacket and then his waistcoat. He glanced over and could make out the dancers who had somehow not noticed a thing. He didn’t see Dominique anywhere. He knew they were obscured by the night and some distance, but how had no one heard anything? Or did they simply not care?
“Vanitas,” he began, “shouldn’t they have said something by now?”
“Oh, you’d be amazed at the things that happen in all the hidden nooks and crannies of places like this,” Vanitas said idly as he unbuttoned his shirt. “This is tame in comparison.”
That didn’t exactly reassure him, but he let the matter rest. He shivered as cool air struck him. Vanitas paused at the angry, red slash wound that went diagonally up his chest.
“You didn’t bandage it?” he said, horrified. “This could get infected!”
“I’m a vampire,” Noé reminded dourly. “It will heal on its own.”
“Heal and become infected.” He opened his portmanteau and shuffled about for supplies. Noé was unsurprised to see bandages among them.
Vanitas was fast and practiced in his movements as he washed the wound and then wrapped gauze around it. Of course, Noé now knew his father had been a doctor, so that was no doubt why he knew as much as he did. With that out of the way he moved to his arm. He was careful as he helped Noé out of the sling and winced when he saw the damage.
“This is bad,” he murmured, holding the arm gently. “Can you feel anything?” He carefully prodded the palm and then the fingers. Noé shook his head. Nothing. The hand in question looked normal enough--it wasn’t rotting--but it didn’t seem to be reattaching all that well either. Vanitas stared at it in consternation.
“We might need to take you to a proper doctor for this,” he said reluctantly. “This is… well beyond anything I can do with my current supplies. I’ll clean it for now.”
If possible, he was even more careful with how he handled Noé’s forlorn limb. Noé would have been touched if he didn’t think it was actually the very least Vanitas could do, all things considered.
As he wrapped it a little more snugly in his sling he said suddenly, “You’re really staying aren’t you?”
“I said so, didn’t I? Back then.”
“That was before all this.”
“I still mean to. Stay with you, that is.”
Vanitas stared down at his hand forlornly, the slice between hand and arm a dull ache as ever. Noé was adjusting to all manner of bodily aches and pains of late.
“All right,” he whispered and he bowed his head. At first Noé thought he was simply going to inspect the injury a little closer, but then he felt the barest hint of warmth on his arm before Vanitas stepped away. It was like nothing had ever happened; Noé was as put together as he ever was nowadays.
“Well, let’s get going then,” Vanitas said.
Noé followed after him and felt… content. Slowly, the world was beginning to reorient in a way that made sense. But there was a small shift, an opening to a new change, less horrid than the one before.
His arm tingled from where Vanitas’s lips had briefly rested as they left the balcony behind.
