Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The corridors of Cornell University were buzzing with a feverish energy, but Pac hardly noticed. His mind was elsewhere, already focused on the new mission he was going to share with Fit. He felt light, as if the ground was lighter with every step. With a mischievous smile on his lips, he made his way through the crowd of students. He could already imagine Fit's reaction, his eyes shining with enthusiasm at the mention of new discoveries. “He’s gonna love this” he said to himself, humming a song that had been playing in his head since he woke up.

In the distance, he spotted the amphitheatre where Fit was usually teaching. As he approached, he passed two students who stared at him with amusement.

“Hi Tio Pac !” they called out to him. “Are you looking for someone ?”

Pac replied with a smile. “Yes, the best history teacher in the university. Do you know where I can find him ? The usual lecture hall or another one ? I forgot to check his schedule.”

The students burst out laughing. “You won't miss him, he has class right here. You seem more excited than usual, Tio. Anything special planned ?” asked one of them, a young man wearing blue overalls.

“You can say it !”

Pac thanked them and told them to stay out of trouble or he'd have to call their parents. It was a joke he could afford, as he knew the parents of the two students well.

Fortunately, nobody questioned his presence at the university. Students and staff alike were getting used to seeing the explorer hanging around the corridors of the archaeology and history department. One of the many advantages of being in a relationship with one of the university's emeritus professors.

Around eleven months had passed since the discovery of Odin's Tear. Professor Fit, a historian and archaeologist specialising in ancient Nordic civilisations, had further enhanced his reputation. So much so that Cornell University saw an increase in the number of applications to enter the courses on which Fit taught. The elders of the University were forced to recognise just how important Fit's work was, and they found it hard to refuse him anything.

It was a nice revenge on the past.

But the one who was most proud of Fit was, without question, Pac. The explorer hadn't hesitated much before settling down for good with his lover. He continued his adventures in the four corners of the world, but always ended up back in the flat they shared in Ithaca, New York.

He pushed open the door to the amphitheatre and found himself at the top of the steps as Fit's presentation on Norse mythology flashed across the big screen. The historian was too concentrated on his speech to really pay attention to who had just entered his lecture room. It didn't matter, though ; it was just an excuse for Pac to admire his boyfriend in his element.

The session ended and the students put their things away before leaving the lecture theatre. Some waved to Pac as he made his way down to the stage where Fit was.

A few students stayed to chat with their professor, but when they noticed the explorer's presence, they cut to the chase and left the two men alone.

“Oi Professor Fitch... I'd like to ask you a quick question. I didn't quite understand the bit about the symbolism of animals in Norse mythology.” Pac said in jest.

Fit looked up at him and smiled, playing along.

“Do you need tutoring, Pac ? Shall I spend dinner telling you why the runes have different meanings to the Vikings ?”

Pac chuckled and shook his head.

“I'm afraid we're going to be too busy talking about other things, my beloved. I got an email for you earlier and I think you might like it.”

Pac took out his phone and handed it to his lover so that he could read the email he was talking about. Fit skimmed through it quickly and his eyes widened a little more when he realised what it was about.

“Are they doing another Viking dig in Normandy ?” Fit asked to confirm what he had just read.

“I know ! I couldn't believe it either !” Pac exclaimed.

“And they want me to come and assess their findings ?”

“Of course they want you, Amor. You're the specialist, after all. And look, it's all expenses paid. And you can be accompanied. You can't say no.”

An amused smile spread across Fit's face as he handed his phone back to Pac before grabbing him by the waist and pulling him a little closer to him. Pac took Fit's face between his hands and traced the outline of his cheekbones with his thumbs.
They could be seen by anyone but they didn't care. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

“So what do you say ? A week in France where I can watch you without restraint while you prove once again that you're the best at what you do.” Pac asked.

“As if you used to hold back.” Fit replied before placing a kiss on his lover's lips. “We can plan this for the end of the month. I don't teach classes around that time.”

“Oh, so Halloween in the footsteps of the Vikings in Normandy ? That sounds pretty good. I can clear my schedule for you, if you insist.”

“Then it's a deal, my beloved.”

That same evening, wrapped up in the soft gloom of his office, Fit called his friend Baghera, a palaeontologist renowned in Switzerland as well as in France, with whom he was used to work whenever his missions took him to a French-speaking country. The historian was curious to know what the palaeontologist knew about this new excavation campaign.
Baghera, whose reputation was well established, had been asked to take on this mission, an unusual combination of history and earth sciences.

“I've heard some strange rumours about this site.” She admitted, a note of concern in her voice. “Researchers and technicians are falling ill one after the other.”

Fit frowned. He knew Baghera well. She's a rational woman of science, and this confession intrigued him. “Sick ? What do you mean ?”

“They're talking about extreme fatigue, nausea, visions... Nothing very definite, but enough for some to call it a curse. You know how people are.”

The historian rubbed his chin, puzzled. There was something fascinating, but also troubling, about these stories.
He knew Pac was prepared to face any danger for the sake of science, but he couldn't help feeling a certain apprehension.

“I'll need to know more before I make a decision, Baghera. Thanks for the information.”

Hanging up, Fit stood up and went to stand by the window. He watched the stars twinkling in the dark sky, and a question nagged at him : was he embarking on a simple archaeological mission, or on a much more complex adventure ?
A shiver ran down Fit's spine. He wasn't superstitious, but the idea of a dark force at work on this site didn't leave him indifferent. He had always been drawn to the mysteries of history, but this time he felt he was going to have to face something more... intangible.

After several weeks of hesitation and lengthy discussions between the two lovers about the historian's doubts, Fit and Pac finally landed at Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport, where they were met by their friend Baghera, who was driving them to Fécamp, where the archaeological dig was taking place.
Normandy is a region of France in the northwest of the country so it was almost a three-hour drive, during which the three friends made up for lost time.

“As soon as I announced your arrival, Antoine decided to get involved in the project. They needed a new geographer, so he volunteered. Etoiles also decided to join us. He said it would be a good opportunity for us all to spend some time together.” Baghera explained.

At the back of the car, Fit felt Pac's hand squeeze his thigh. He turned his head towards him and the explorer winked ar him. Of course, he didn't need to think long to work out what was meant. The subject of “Etoiles” had been a source of conflict during their mission to Heimaey, but that was behind them now and they preferred to joke about it.

The group arrived in Normandy at the end of the day and were immediately welcomed by Antoine and Etoiles, who were eager to introduce the newcomers to the dig site.

“My brooooooooos !”

Smiles broke out on the faces of the newcomers at the mere sound of the explorer's voice. They were just as happy to see Antoine, with whom he had less frequent contact.

“We had a quick look at what they dug up but we were waiting for you to look in detail.” Antoine announced.

Fit was already surprised to learn that the archaeologists had found anything at all. Pac, on the other hand, was feeling the adrenalin of discovering a new treasure. He couldn't wait to see what had been discovered.

The group headed for the ruins of the ducal palace of Fécamp. A tent had been set up to protect the finds from the elements. October was often a rainy month in Normandy.
The atmosphere on the site was particularly gloomy. The rain didn't help matters.

“If a demon haunts the ruins, we can always call Cellbit or BadBoyHalo to the rescue.” Fit joked.

The historian's remark made the others laugh.

Pac and Etoiles were the first ones to rush towards the objects the french scientists had discovered. Their adventurous spirit was awakened by the idea of finding out more about ancient treasures hidden from the world for centuries.
There were bowls, statuettes, the remains of unidentified objects... Amongst all that had been dug up, Pac noticed an object that looked like a knife. It had retained a dark red colour, as if still stained with the blood of its owner's enemies.
Pac had seen all sorts of weapons in his adventures. Big ones, sharp ones, heavy ones... But none of them had inspired as little confidence as this knife, which might seem insignificant.

Etoiles wasn't as distrustful as Pac. Or at least, he wasn't as sensitive to waves as Pac could be. Admiring the craftsmanship and know-how of the Vikings, the French explorer took the knife in hand but dropped it almost immediately, hissing in pain.

“Etoiles ? What's going on ?” Antoine asked as soon as he heard his best friend's complaint.

The man was observing his hands scrupulously, eyebrows furrowed. From the outside, nothing seemed wrong with Etoiles' palms, but his facial expression told a different story.
They all knew Etoiles' tolerance to pain. It was much higher than anyone else's. So if he was complaining of pain... it had to be serious. Hence their concern.

“It burned me…” he said in a small voice that didn't sound like him.

Antoine had the reflex to grab one of his machines while the other three walked over to Etoiles to check his condition. But there was no sign of burns.

“Step away from the knife.” Antoine warned.

The geographer scanned the knife with one of his devices and could hardly realise what he was seeing.

“It detects vibrations coming from the knife.” He announced.

“Vibrations ? You're recording seismic-type waves ?” Pac asked to confirm and Antoine nodded.

The group watched the red-tinged weapon for a few seconds. Indeed, if they concentrated hard enough on it, they could see slight vibrations to the naked eye. Was it real or was it a mind game ?

“We're really going to have to call Cellbit and Bébou after all.” Baghera said to lift the mood.

“Actually, the most likely hypothesis would be that the materials that make up the knife are reacting strangely with oxygen after being underground for centuries.” Etoiles explained after regaining his composure. “Like mini nuclear reactions.” Some people tended to forget that the man had an engineering background before becoming an explorer.

Pac and Fit exchanged glances. The hypothesis was plausible. It could even have come from the components of that red colour, which would explain why the other artefacts didn't react in the same way.
Yes, that was the most rational explanation.

“In any case, whatever it is, if it's dangerous, it needs to be isolated. It would also be interesting to study it in more detail.” Fit declared before turning to the Normandy science team. “Do you have any laboratories nearby ?”

This simple question prompted the scientists to carefully lock the knife in an airtight box. If the weapon had burnt Etoiles in any way, it had to be prevented from coming into direct contact with any more people.

Pac turned back to his colleague.

“Are you sure you're going to be OK ?”

“Yeah, of course. It just surprised me but it's better already. And look ! Nothing at all !” Etoiles shows his hands from all angles to his friends to reassure them. “See ?”

“We're still going to take you to see a doctor.” Baghera announced. “I'll take you lovebirds to your hotel. You've had a long journey and we're going to need you tomorrow.”

There wasn't much room for negotiation but Fit and Pac could do with a good night's rest in a cosy bed after so much emotion. So they left Etoiles in the care of his friends while they took their luggage up to their hotel room. The palaeontologist gave them her word that she would keep them informed of the medical appointment.

However, as he waited for their friend's message, the historian kept worrying as he read documents on the region. What if the archaeologists had dug up an old bacteria and they'd all been exposed ? How had Etoiles been burnt without any apparent redness ? A lot of questions were running through his head and he didn't like not having any answers.

Pac came out of the bathroom and noticed the wrinkles on the forehead of his partner, who hadn't even heard him approach. The adventurer placed his hand on the back of Fit's neck, who flinched slightly at the contact before smiling as he noticed Pac's warm presence beside him. Pac smiled gently back.

“I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all this, Amor.”

“Yes... And even if there wasn't, it wouldn't be the first time. Would it ? History is... full of mysteries after all.”

Pac nodded. Fit was trying to convince him, perhaps also to convince himself, but Pac could clearly see that knowing someone could potentially get hurt on this mission was torturing Fit.

And that... Pac couldn't stand it.

Fit only had to focus on the artefacts, Pac was going to deal with the curses and other obstacles that could be put in front of his partner.

That was a promise.

Chapter Text

4am. What better time for a romantic evening stroll ?

Fit and Pac had barely slept two hours. They could blame jet lag and the day's events, but in any case, Fit and Pac couldn't get to sleep.

The air was cool, but their hands clasped together to share a little body heat.
There were no clouds in the sky. The stars and the waning moon shone brightly in the sky, guiding their steps as few street lamps lit their way.

Fécamp wasn't a very lively town, so only the sound of night animals accompanied them, but that's part of the charm of European countries. It was nice to be able to get from A to B without having to take the car, whatever the time of day or the state of the traffic.

They naturally walked towards the excavation site, but they took advantage of being alone to extend their walk by passing through suburban neighbourhoods.
The duo were surprised to find that not many gardens were decorated for Halloween. There were some pumpkins and fake spider webs, but they were few and far between.
They stopped for a couple of minutes in front of one of the few decorated houses.

“I don't think Halloween is celebrated very much in France.” Fit remarked. “It's gaining a bit of popularity over the years, but it's still pretty niche.”

“I mean, with the cold weather we're having, it doesn't make you want to go trick-or-treating. Brrrr...” Pac shivered. “I can see why the others were so sensitive to the heat when they came to Brazil.”

Fit laughed at the remark. He put his arm around his lover's shoulders to pull him closer and try to warm him up.

“Ah, that's better.”

With a smile drawn across his face, Fit tilted his head a little to look at his lover's face. The lights from the pumpkin lanterns danced in his dark eyes as if thousands of golden glitters had found their way into Pac's eyes.
Night suited him so well.

As they set off again, Fit told Pac the story of the creation of Normandy.

“Fécamp has sheltered the first Dukes of Normandy. Including Rollo, who was basically just a Viking. But he laid siege to Paris and the King of France at the time, Charles the Simple, offered him the title of Count of Rouen with the territory that went with it. That's how Rollo became the jarl of the Normans, since some of the Vikings were called Norsemen.”

During his explanation, the duo reached the ruins. Only Fit's words broke the silence of the place.

“Hence the name Normandy. And this territory was extended by Rollo's successors, including his son William Longsword, Guillaume Longue Épée in French.”

Pac chuckled as he turned to face the historian.

“And to think that some young people pay fortunes to listen to you talk about these subjects while I get it for free. I'm privileged.”

“Don't get too excited, I'll send you a bill as soon as we get home.” Fit replied with a smirk.

The explorer was pleased to see that this walk was helping Fit to relax. He seemed less stressed than a few hours earlier, and that reassured Pac.
He took advantage of the floating moment between the two of them to put his arms around his boyfriend's waist.

“I love listening to you talk about these subjects you're passionate about. You've got that twinkle in your eye that comes alive.”

“My colleagues tell me the same thing when I talk to them about you.”

This sentence made Pac's heart skip a beat and he hid his flushed face against Fit's shoulder. The historian was the only one capable of making him blush with simple words, and he knew it ! Fit was good with words. That was one of the reasons his research work was so popular ; it was pleasant to read... and to hear.

“You and your fine words...” Pac grumbled despite the treacherous smile drawn across his face.

Fit could clearly hear Pac's smile in his words. He laughed and hugged him, enjoying his warmth as a cooler wind blew over them and the dead leaves they were trampling on.

This moment belonged to them alone, and they cherished every second of it. Logically, they should be heading back to the hotel for a rest, but neither of them felt like moving. They were far too comfortable in each other's arms.

Suddenly, Fit's attention was drawn to the dead leaves lying on the ground. The wind made them dance strangely, as if whirling around them. He parted slightly from Pac, but his hands were still gripping the explorer's arms. The latter observed the same phenomenon.

The movement of the leaves accelerated, again and again. No more doubts : the leaves were flying around them, enclosing them both in a reddish tornado.

It was no longer the wind. The dead leaves were like... alive.

“Let's get out of here !” Pac shouted.

But the two men had no time to move. The leaves closed in on them until they touched. They could feel the impact against their bodies, so it wasn't just an illusion. The speed and sudden approach forced them to close their eyes abruptly.

When they opened their eyes again, Fit and Pac struggled to understand what they were seeing.

Fires were visible in the distance, despite the ashes that swirled in their field of vision. Lifeless bodies laid strewn across the ground. Men were fighting with clubs and swords. Shouts rang out, war horns echoed, swords clashing against shields beat the pace.

They were in the middle of a battle scene.

Fit looked up at the sky. The Full Moon was witnessing the spectacle, proud and unchanging in the night sky but somewhat veiled by the smoke of the fires.

Everything was hazy but seemed so real and Fit found it hard to realise that this could be a hallucination, a nightmare or something else entirely.

“Fit !”

Pac's voice snapped him out of his contemplation. He turned abruptly to see a gigantic man running in their direction, screaming and looking even more menacing as the blade of a knife in his hand reflected the moon's rays. He was charging towards them.

Pac placed himself in front of Fit to protect him, but if this giant wanted to hurt them both, it wasn't Pac who could stop him.

He was going to attack them. He was going to hurt them. He was going to-

*dring dring dring*

The historian and the explorer gasped as Fit's phone rang. Panicking, they looked around, but they were back at the ruins of the ducal palace, immersed in the calm of the Norman night, disturbed only by the sound of the ringing.

Somewhat mechanically, Fit picked up the device and put it to his ear, while Pac inspected him from every angle to check for injuries before doing the same to himself.

“Hello ?” Fit's voice sounded like the one of a stranger even to himself.

“Fit, my Bro. Are you at the hotel ?” Etoiles, on the other end of the line, sounded agitated.

“Uh... No. We couldn't sleep so we decided to take a walk. Why ? What's going on ? Are you okay ?”

“We just got a call. Apparently, the alarm in the lab where we took the knife went off. The knife's gone.”

Pac couldn't make out Etoiles's voice over Fit's phone, but he guessed from Fit's face that something had happened. He glanced around as he had the vague impression of being watched. His gaze was suddenly drawn to something and when he realised what it was, his blood ran cold and his breath caught in his throat.

“What ? Just like that, gone ? Someone took it ?” Fit asked the French explorer.

“Nobody's visible on the cameras. They don't understand and neither do we.”

“Fitch...” Pac's voice caught Fit's attention, but it was the paleness of his face that worried the historian. “Hang up.”

“Uh... I. I've got to go, Etoiles. I'll call you back in a few minutes.” Fit muted the call and put his hands on Pac's shoulders. “Pac, talk to me. What did you see ?”

“Turn around” Pac replied in a whisper as his gaze fixed on the same spot since he'd called out to him.

Fit could feel a shiver run down his spine. He didn't need to turn around to know what he was going to find behind him. But he did need confirmation of his doubts.
Cautiously, the historian turned, still keeping a hand on Pac's shoulder.
He wasn't surprised. He knew he shouldn’t be. And yet... the shock was strong enough to take his breath away.

“Impossible.”

Into the stone wall behind Fit sank the red knife.

There was nothing rational left.

Chapter Text

The sun hadn't yet risen when Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine joined Fit and Pac at the ruins of Fécamp's Ducal Palace. The couple seemed to be still in shock, and the three French-speakers understood when they saw the knife stuck in the stone wall.
There was no point in asking them if they'd seen someone put it there ; if they had, they wouldn't be so shaken.

Antoine had thought to bring his machine and scanned the knife in the same way as the day before. He obtained the same results. The knife was still emitting the same slight vibrations.

“I was able to obtain the laboratory surveillance videos. Indeed, nothing was visible on them at the time the alarm was triggered. It's as if it was activated for nothing. The only abnormal thing is that the laboratory camera blurred just two seconds before the knife disappeared. The lapse of time is very short but there's still the possibility that someone broke in and stole the knife.” Baghera told.

“That doesn't explain how it could have made the journey from the laboratory to here in such a short time. Even by car it's not possible. And the guys would have heard a vehicle if there had been one.” Etoiles added.

“Unless...” Pac began before interrupting himself. He glanced at Fit, who continued to stare at the bladed weapon, no readable expression on his face. He continued. “Unless we've been hypnotised. In a certain state of hypnosis, we might well not have heard a car if there really was one.”

The French explorer frowned. “A state of hypnosis ? Why are you talking about that ?”

Pac hesitated a few more seconds, but getting no support from his partner, he decided to briefly explain to the French-speaking trio what had happened before Etoiles called the historian's phone. Immediately, the three friends checked that the other two were unharmed, because who knew what might have happened to them during this hallucination. They weren't reassured until they were assured that they were all right... at least physically.
Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine had noticed Fit's silence. He was always discreet when there were people around, but this time was different.

“Are you going to be okay ?” Antoine asked Pac as much to talk about him as to talk about Fit.

Pac nodded slightly. Actually, he didn't know, but he was going to do everything he could to make the situation better.

“Maybe we should try to do something about the knife.” Etoiles suggested.

“We shouldn't touch it.” Antoine replied.

The French explorer didn't seem satisfied with this answer.

“Let me try to remove it. I'm the only one of us who's ever touched the knife, so I know what to expect this time. It doesn't seem to have sunk in too deeply, so it should only take a second.” The others were about to argue, but Etoiles wouldn't let them speak. “We don't have any other solutions right now ! We've got to put it back to the lab ! Who knows if it's dangerous to leave it out in the open !”

Indeed, they didn't know. The group capitulated and Etoiles approached the weapon, which was sunk into the stone wall. He examined it for a moment without touching it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the slight vibrations emanating from the knife created a gentle whirring sound.

Eventually, he reached for it and felt that sharp burning sensation again, but decided to ignore it and pulled with all his might to extract the weapon from the wall, but... nothing happened. The knife didn't move.

“I don't understand...” Etoiles murmured.

He looked at his hand but, once again, there was no sign of burning. He turned to his friends. He was about to speak to them when he noticed their startled faces.

“What's going on ?”

“The wall is... bleeding ?” Baghera managed to formulate her sentence, but it sounded like a question.

Etoiles turned back to the stone wall and backed off slightly. A large amount of blood was running down the wall from the gap where the knife had been embedded. A pool was forming at the foot of the wall and Etoiles had to step back to avoid staining his shoes.

The two adventurers had the reflex to run and check the other side of the wall to see if anything or anyone had suffered collateral damage, but they saw nothing. From their side, there was no sign of anything unusual happening on the other side of the ruined wall.

They returned to their friends and found them kneeling by the wall. Curious, they approached and noticed that the blood from the wall had formed very precise shapes on the floor. At this point, they shouldn't even be surprised.

“These are runes.” Fit explained.

“Do you understand them, Fit ?” Pac asked.

The historian took a moment before shaking his head. “As it is, I'm unable to decipher them. It might even be only translatable into French, I'd have to find out.”

Fit took out his phone and took a photo of the runes.

“You'll have a better chance of finding books in Rouen. I can take you and Pac there.” Baghera announced.

“In the meantime, we'll contact the teams in Fécamp and the authorities so they can cordon off the site before the curious people arrive.” Antoine continued.

“Okay, let's do that. We'll be in touch.” Fit concluded.

Pac discreetly took a photo of the runes and the team finally split in two for the rest of the day.

Fit could hardly breathe. The air was heavy around him, no doubt due to the fires close to his position. Ashes flew around him, narrowing his field of vision.

Above him, the Full Moon, proud and unchanging, watched him and illuminated him with its silver light, which contrasted with the orange light of the fires.

He felt hot. He could feel the sweat beading his forehead, so he wiped it away with the back of his sleeve. It was then that he realised : in his right hand was the red knife.
He had the impression that the weapon was even redder than before and, on closer inspection, the historian noticed that fresh blood was flowing from the blade.

His heart raced as a terrible thought occurred to him. Had he just attacked someone ?

“Fitch...?” called a faint voice.

He turned abruptly to the voice he knew so well, and his breath caught when he saw Pac lying on the ground. Blood was dripping from beneath him. His blood. No. No, no, no.

“Pac... No.” Fit whispered.

“Fit... Why ?” Pac asked, almost pleading.

Fit was the reason Pac was hurt. It was all his fault. Tears formed at the corners of the archaeologist's eyes. It was all his fault !

“My beloved. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I beg you, stay with me. Pac ! Pac, look at me !”

“Fitch... Fit- FIT !”

Fit gasped as he finally emerged from his nightmare. He was out of breath, as if he'd been in apnea for several minutes. What a horrible sensation. It felt so real.

He felt a hand against his cheek and finally noticed that Pac was beside him, staring at him with a worried expression. It was he who had awakened Fit after hearing him complain in his sleep.

“Breathe, Amor. I'm here now. Inhale calmly, exhale... There.” Pac guided his partner to calm his anxiety. “It was a nightmare. You're with me.”

Pac helped Fit straighten up on the bed. They'd worked all day on the translation of the blood runes and the possible origin of their hallucination before finally returning to the hotel with books to keep working. With the fatigue accumulated over the last few days and the guilt eating away at him, it was not surprising that Fit's anxieties manifested themselves in the form of violent nightmares.

Pac stroked his lover's back while Fit still couldn't get his breathing back to normal. The historian turned his head towards the explorer and scanned him with his gaze as best he could.

“You're not hurt ?”

“Hurt ? No, Amor. I'm fine.”

“Are you sure ? Pac, did I hurt you ?”

Fit's pleading look broke Pac's heart. His nightmare must have been excessively violent for him to be so disturbed.
Pac's only thought was to take off his T-shirt to show Fit that he was all right.

“Look at me. I'm fine, Fit. You didn't hurt me. You never hurt me.”

Fit's metal left hand gently caressed Pac's torso. The historian finally managed to calm down as Pac took him in his arms while continuing to whisper reassuring words.

"I'm sorry..." Fit whispered.

The explorer blamed himself. It was he who had decided to take on this mission for Fit and himself. If he'd decided to ignore it, they wouldn't be under such stress. If he'd ignored the request, Fit wouldn't have such a tormented mind.
He wasn't like Pac. He wasn't used to old curses. It wasn't the first time Pac had been confronted with the inexplicable. It didn't distress him as much as it used to, but he understood why his lover was in such a state.

It was time for Pac to find a solution. But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He needed someone who was an expert in the paranormal... And he knew just the man for the job.

“Oi queridinho... Tudo bem ?” Cellbit's voice echoed from Pac's computer, who rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“Oi Cellbo... Preciso de sua ajuda, fi.” (Hey Cellbo, I need your help, man.)

Cellbit was an old friend of Pac's. They'd worked on many cases together whenever circumstances fell outside a rational framework. Their relationship hadn't always been ideal, but Pac knew he could count on Cellbit's expertise in these matters.

And to help Fit, Pac was ready to face his own demons.

He took advantage of being alone in the hotel breakfast room to have a video call while Fit tried to sleep for a few more hours.

The explorer told the investigator what had happened since their arrival in France. He spoke of the illnesses that had afflicted the French researchers, the knife that had burned Etoiles' hand, the hallucination he and Fit had suffered, the knife's disappearance and strange reappearance, the blood dripping from the wall, Fit's nightmares... He left no detail out. He even sent him the photo of the blood runes.

“Hm... Obviously, it's that Rollo that Fit told you about who's haunting the place. From what I read, he was really tall and massive, which is coherent with the man you saw in your hallucination. And if Fit saw himself in Rollo's place in his nightmare, it's because the Viking decided to use Fit as a host to convey messages.”

This news didn't reassure Pac at all. But, in a way, he wasn't surprised. He suspected that Fit had the best chance of being haunted by a Viking lord, if his expertise in the field was anything to go by. The Vikings probably felt closer to him than to them.

Cellbit continued his explanation and added one more weight to Pac's heart.

“It's normal that Etoiles couldn't get the knife out of the wall... It's Fit's job to do it. It's Fit who must break Rollo's curse.”

Chapter Text

Once his discussion with Cellbit was over, Pac took a moment before going back up to the hotel room. He didn't know how he was going to break the news to Fit... Was he even going to tell him ? He couldn't decide.

The explorer unlocked the bedroom door and found his boyfriend buttoning his black shirt. Fit looked up at him and offered a smile as he finished his task.

“Oi. Did you have breakfast ?” Fit asked.

The historian acted as if his nightmare of the night hadn't existed. He was acting as if everything was fine, and that broke Pac's heart. But the Brazilian man took it upon himself and smiled back before placing a small paper bag on the bedside table.

“I brought you a croissant. They're really good.”

“It would have been a shame if a French hotel wasn't capable of making good croissants.”

Fit continued to get ready while Pac pondered his next words. He opted for a simple question.

“Fit... Are you okay ?”

The American man didn't seem surprised by the question. His smile faded slightly, but he still nodded.

“I'm better now. I'm sorry about what happened last night. It was so violent. I can barely remember what we said to each other after you woke me up. But I'm feeling better this morning so I know that, as usual, you found the right words, my beloved.”

Fit walked over to Pac and kissed him on the forehead.

“I spoke to Cellbit this morning.” Pac announced. “We tried to be rational, we need to move on so I told him everything that happened. I wanted his opinion on the investigation.”

“Yes, you did the right thing. What does he say about it ?”

“It's certain that Rollo's spirit haunts the castle ruins. Perhaps directly the knife. And he has designated someone in particular to carry his messages. It's only that person who can break the curse.”

Fit smiled a little sadly. “It's me... isn't it ?”

Pac was astonished to see that Fit didn't seem at all surprised by this revelation. “How do you know ? Did you talk to Cellbit too ?”

“Nah. I deciphered the blood runes. The one who received Odin's last blessing... That's what it says. And the latest Odin-related relic... That's Odin's Tear. I finished the translation this morning. We probably both got the news at the same time.”

Pac sighed and let his forehead fall on Fit’s shoulder.

“Damn it... What are we going to do, Fit ?”

“Breaking a curse, I guess ? Save the world, or Normandy anyway ? Get all the credits for this mission, get a medal of honour, have avenues named after us...”

Pac laughed at Fit's joke. Dramatising the situation was a good idea, but they both knew that dealing with occult forces was not without risk. They might not be saving the world, but they couldn't leave their friends to be on their own with a tourist attraction that was more likely to cause trouble than anything else.

As they finished getting ready, Pac looked out the window and noticed that the weather wasn't being kind to them. The sky was grey and it was threatening to rain at any moment.

“Why does every one of our important missions have to take place in the rain ?” Pac asked with a sigh.

“I thought I'd kiss you in the rain one more time, but maybe I'll change my plans.” Fit replied with a smirk.

Pac turned with the same smirk as his companion and walked over to him. “Oh, yeah ? And why don't you kiss me now ? A good-luck kiss for the day we're about to face together.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The two men kissed tenderly. They didn't know what they were going to face on this day so they wanted to be sure to take a moment just for the two of them. They both needed it.

Maybe pulling the knife out of the wall was only going to take a minute. Maybe it would take an hour.

They didn't know.

They were going into the unknown.

The couple were surprised to see so many people at the excavation site. Fortunately, there were no tourists, just scientists and members of the police.
They quickly spotted their friends.

“Hey. What's going on here ? There's a party going on and we didn't know about it ?” Pac asked to lighten the mood.

“As soon as we called in the Fécamp team to cordon off the perimeter, we went into a downward spiral of who should do what.” Antoine replied, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“We've at least managed to keep the public out, but it's only a matter of time.” Etoiles continued.

“Do you think you'll be able to get everyone to leave ? We may have found a way to remove the knife.” Fit announced.

“Oh wow. And can we know what it is or...?” Baghera asked. “Or you don't want to talk about it because you know we'll stop you from realising your idea because it's too dangerous ?”

Pac and Fit exchanged a look. Baghera was too intelligent and knew them too well. The young woman sighed, rolling her eyes.

“How risky is it ?”

“We don't know, honestly. We have to rely on the translation of the runes and Cellbit's expertise.” Fit explained.

The mention of the investigator's name reassured the palaeontologist a little. These two knew each other well, so she trusted his judgement. If there was anything she could have done to help, he would have told her.

“Okay. We'll get rid of all these people.” She finally said.

Etoiles put a friendly pat on each of the duo's shoulders and the three of them went off to the other side to find a way to get everyone out.
All they had to do now was wait.

Fit and Pac watched as people began to leave one after the other. Some faster than others. A message notification sounded on Fit's phone. Message from Baghera :

“People have been led to believe that we have received results from the Rouen laboratory and that there are bacteria that can be dangerous if exposed for too long. You may have an hour before the health authorities arrive to decontaminate the site. Good luck.”

The two men had read the message together. They knew what they had to do. Pac extended his hand to Fit, who took it, and together they walked to the palace ruins.

The knife was still embedded in the wall, but the blood had stopped flowing. The blood runes, as well as the dripping on the wall, were dry but retained their characteristic red colour. The same colour that stained the knife blade.

“Ready ?” Pac asked.

Fit looked at the weapon, then at the runes. If he and Cellbit were right, then he had no choice. He had to take that risk. For Pac. For his friends. For himself.

“Ready.” Fit answered at last.

The historian let go of his lover's hand to walk alone to the knife.
The weapon was still vibrating slightly, but that didn't stop Fit who, with his flesh hand, grabbed the handle of the weapon and pulled with all his might.

The knife struggled to stay in place. Fit's hand burned but, if it was like Etoiles, he would see no trace of it. Yet the pain was real. Fit could feel the unbearable heat spreading through his hand and he could feel the tingling all the way to his elbow.

But he didn't let go. He was determined to get it over with.

He could feel it moving slightly. Fit was winning his battle against the haunted knife as the pain amplified.

He grunted slightly but, with a snap, finally ripped the knife from the wall.

Fit almost lost his balance, but he pulled himself upright again as the knife shook so much he had to hold it with both hands. Everything was so intense that he could barely hear Pac calling behind him.

Rollo's mind was trying to take possession of Fit, who was struggling to keep control of the situation. Yet he knew what he had to do. He had no choice if he wanted to get rid of this curse for good. He had to free Rollo's mind.

“Forgive me, Pac.”

With an abrupt gesture, Fit smashed the knife against his knee and the red blade shattered into pieces. The historian felt pain run down his hand, his arm, his leg, his face... He was wounded. He knew it.

But he had no time to become aware of his wounds as the scenery changed around him, forcing him to close his eyes for a brief moment.

When he opened his eyes again, Fit was seated at a large table at the back of a huge hall. Looking around, he realised he was in the middle of a banquet. People were agitated, eating and dancing all over the hall. People were celebrating, perhaps the end of a battle or a special day.
The atmosphere was joyous and convivial. He felt in no danger.

Fit sensed he was being watched, so he turned his head to the right and noticed a man of immense stature standing next to him. The man from his hallucination. Rollo, Count of Rouen, first Duke of Normandy.
The man gave him a kind smile.

“Isn't it a beautiful evening ?” he asked.

Fit looked around again. The place was lit by torches and candles, creating a warm golden atmosphere. He smiled and nodded.

“It is.”

“I'm delighted, my friend. You have freed me from my chains. You showed bravery to protect your own. I'm impressed and grateful.”

“That's just part of my job.”

“And modest ! Haha ! I knew I'd done the right thing choosing you ! You'd make a great Viking, my friend !”

Fit laughed, flattered by Rollo's words.

“It's all in my head, isn't it ? It's just a dream or another hallucination.”

“Maybe.” Rollo gave him an amused look. “Or maybe it isn't. Who knows ? Choose whichever explanation you prefer and it'll be your truth. After all, not everything needs to be explained in words, does it ? There's no need to rationalise every single thing that exists in this world... or doesn't exist anymore.”

Fit nodded. “Am I supposed to be here ?”

“Only if you wish for it. It's your choice, my friend. You can stay here and feast with us, or you can return to your own. You've worked hard and you've earned some rest, but they probably still need you. Especially the little brown-haired one, who has a special affection for you.”

“Yes... I need him too.”

“Your story isn't over, Fit. But remember, your life will never be the same. The courage of your sacrifice will leave marks that will help you remember where you came from. In the darkest moments of your life, you'll look at these marks and remember your bravery. Every scar is proof of your strength. Proof that you've always made it through, and that you can always make it through. Don't forget that your strength also comes from those closest to you. You are loved, my friend. Love them back. Lean on them. You can't save everyone, but you can at least save yourself.”

Fit was sensitive to Rollo's speech as he leaned slightly toward him.

“So I'll ask you again. Do you want to stay here ? Or do you want to go home ? The choice is yours, Fit.”

The historian frowned slightly. He inspected the room once more before turning to Rollo.

“I want...”

Fit gasped as he opened his eyes. He took a deep breath of air and the coolness entered his lungs, calming the heat that had spread through him. He was laying on the floor of the ruins in Pac's arms, the tears on the explorer's face mingling with the raindrops. Pac’s face went through every emotion before finally looking relieved.

“Fitch... Amor... Meu deus... I thought I'd lost you.” Pac rested his forehead against Fit's. “You weren't breathing for a few moments. I was so scared.”

Fit understood how scared Pac must have been.

“I'm fine, Pac. I'm fine, my beloved.”

Fit wanted to put his right hand on Pac's cheek to dry his tears, but as he lifted his arm, he noticed the wounds and burns that made him suffer. He was marked.

“The ambulance is on its way.” Pac announced. “I'm staying with you, Amor.”

Fit nodded and leaned a little more against Pac, who held him close, placing a kiss on his forehead. The historian's eyes fell on the grey sky from which raindrops were falling. They were both soaked, but that wasn't what mattered Fit. They were both fine. He had freed Rollo's mind. This story was finally going to be behind them.

“Fit ! Pac !”

Their three friends came running up to them. From the look on their frightened faces, Fit could imagine the state he was in.

In fact, the blade of the knife broke against him, leaving gashes on his arm, leg and face. Fit had a gash under his right eye. Within a few centimetres, he could have lost his eye. It would leave a scar.

Etoiles had the reflex to take off his jacket and put it on his friend.

“I need you to stay warm until help arrives. It's gonna be fine.”

Antoine reached for his phone to see where help was. Baghera knelt next to Pac and ran her hand down his back to bring him some comfort.

“We'll take good care of you both.”

Pac nodded. He rested his head lightly against Baghera's to thank her. He no longer had the strength to formulate words. He'd been so scared when he saw Fit break the knife and then collapse.
He had thrown himself on top of him immediately, phone in hand to call for help, and had panicked even more when he noticed that his lover was no longer breathing. Pac really thought he'd lost Fit. He'd never screamed so much in his life. His throat still ached, but it was a small price to pay for the relief of seeing Fit breathing again.

Fit was talking. Fit was alive. That was all that mattered.

Help arrived a few minutes after that...

“How are you feeling ?” Pac asked his lover.

“Pretty good. It's not every day that I do a conference in France, but it's going to be an interesting exercise. Besides, you're here. I've got nothing to worry about.”

Pac smiled at these words.

Three months had passed since the end of their mission in France. Fit had been in hospital for two days, but the couple had been able to return to the States after a week, since the archaeologist was recovering well from his injuries and had been able to finish providing his expertise to the Fécamp team who had resumed the excavations.

For his help and knowledge, the historian was invited to give a lecture to inaugurate the opening of an exhibition on the results of the Viking excavations in Fécamp. After that, the objects would be sent to museums for display, but it was only right that the town should celebrate its finds.

Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine were also there to support the historian. They hadn't seen each other since the couple left France.

“If you ever start to feel pain, let me know. In the worst case, I'll ask Etoiles to trigger the fire alarm so everyone can evacuate and you can get some rest.”

Fit laughed at Pac's joke. But he knew there was some truth to it and that Pac was actually worried about him.

Sometimes Fit's scars still hurt. A tolerable tingling, but enough to ruin a good day.
He had nightmares that were less and less frequent, but sometimes prevented him from sleeping more than two or three hours a night.
Fit knew he'd get better in time and that he was well surrounded. Pac was with him, his French-speaking friends often checked on him, Cellbit too.

Fit placed a kiss on Pac's lips.

“For good luck.”

“As if you needed it. You're the best at what you do.”

“I'm starting to believe it.”

Fit's name was called to come to the stage so the historian kissed the explorer one last time before joining the stage where the host gave him a microphone. He positioned himself behind the podium to begin his presentation and cast a circular glance around the room.
Pac quickly sat down next to Baghera, while Etoiles and Antoine waved to Fit in encouragement.

This made him smile.

Fit wasn't really worried about his condition. He had to let time do its work. He knew he'd be all right. Rollo himself had told him so.

As long as Pac was by his side, Fit would be fine.

The historian took a breath and began to speak.

“Thank you all for coming to this presentation...”