Work Text:
The LCE department is still a mess. Figures, considering that a week is probably not enough to clean and repair the aftermath the Nursefathers left behind. The bodies, the blood, the broken containment units and walls are a hassle to clean, not to mention constantly suppressing Abnormalities and Distortions that refuse to stay put. Dante would rather do anything else other than janitorial work after tangoing with the Fingers and trying not to let anyone that wasn’t the Sinners and Nursefathers die. At the very least, they believe everyone should get a few days to rest while the LCA gets a head start on the repair job. Alas, the LCB goes straight back to work.
Dante wipes their head, feigning the motion of cleaning off sweat. They don’t necessarily sweat from the forehead anyway, but the motion of it seems to be some sort of instinct. They’re currently helping Meursault and Outis repair one of the windows of a containment unit and Dante’s beat. Luckily the job’s almost done, Meursault is just cleaning up with some finishing touches.
“<Is it good?>” Dante asks. “<We’re all done here?>”
“We’ve successfully repaired this window,” Meursault answers flatly. He dusts off his hands. “We should move on to the next one.”
“<’Mkay…>” Dante sighs as they start moving to the unit next to it, carrying the supplies over. They feel embarrassed to feel their arms and legs ache when the two in front of them seem relatively unfazed. It doesn’t surprise them, but they do wonder if the veteran and… Merusault, feel at least a little tired.
Outis seems to notice them straggling behind, however, and turns her head slightly to face them. She cocks her head to the side. “Is everything alright, Executive Manager? Are you tired already?”
“<Nah, I’m fine,>” They wave dismissively with their free hand. In truth, they really only repaired a few windows so far today. They suspect it’s just fatigue carrying over from the ambush and the endless days of repairing. It’s something they think to themself over and over again to justify their bodyaches, yet the other inners seem fine. If they are tired, they don’t look nearly as worn as their fellow manager.
“Their body language suggests fatigue,” says the ever-so-observant Meursault. “Overexertion rarely ever benefits the output of work. It may be best if the manager sits out for a while.”
“<I am a little tired, but we barely even started anything today! I would feel a little bad letting you guys do all the work while I slack off…>”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with work you cannot handle, Executive Manager. I, at the very least, can handle today’s workload without much struggle. I do have a hand in such repairs myself, afterall.”
“<...Not that I ever doubted you.>” That is true, however. Dante recalls sometime before the Sinners’ departure to the Great Lake where Outis mentions her skill in engineering-related matters. Though, there’s not much of that involved here. She’s probably just handy in repairs in general.
The trio stop at the next containment unit in need of fixing up. Meursault immediately begins the repair with Outis following suit.
Which leaves Dante right behind them, setting down the supplies and hanging back. They know that if they try getting involved now, the two would probably just insist on that break. They decide to lean against the wall instead, watching the two work diligently.
“<It’s been a week of straight work,>” Dante comments. “<I’m a little surprised how long some of you can work without any rest. Sleep not included, of course.>”
“Perhaps a main contributor is our constant fighting with threats,” Meursault says, focused on the job. “The rest of the Sinners are more involved with the physical aspects while the manager stands back away from the battlefield. This conditioned the others to handle the taxing conditions of a brawl and other strenuous activities. However, Dante has not once involved themself in much physical activity.”
“While I would rather not use such crass terms to describe the Executive Manager,” Outis sighs, “he is right. Perhaps it would’ve been better if they trained alongside Jia Xichun and Sinclair.”
They did think that to themself once when they were first facing off the Pinky Nursefather.
“I was not being crass, I was merely explaining a possibility,” Meursault finally turns his head and faces the two. “Perhaps you should move around if you are concerned with your physical capabilities, Manager. If not for the fact we are in an inappropriate setting, I would’ve suggested a jog to get started. A walk around should suffice.”
“<Well…>” Dante flusters about, unsure when the conversation suddenly turned into a discussion of their soon-to-be fitness plan. They have been considering getting more active, however. If the Sinners are getting better at fighting, they should probably improve with them, no matter how little. It’s probably a good idea considering there have been times they and the Sinners got separated. Just a week ago, they were apart, even if they were all under Dante’s gaze. If something happens and Dante can’t revive all of them in time, at least they could fend for themself, or run away.
Still doesn’t make them feel better of leaving all the work to the Sinners though. This isn’t the same as strategizing the best course of action for an Abnormality or strong foe. Just… taxing janitorial work. If they can’t fight, they can at the very least clean.
But Outis steps in before they can protest. “If you’re still worried about today’s workload, we will be okay. A break does rejuvenate the body afterall. You cannot perform your best if you continue to force yourself to work.”
Dante… isn’t as taken aback as they thought they would be from the sincere words coming from her. She is bootlicking less and less as time goes on. It’s actual concern, and Dante knows she’s right anyway.
“<Right, okay. If you insist,>” Dante concedes. “<I’ll take a quick lap or two around the department. If you need me, just yell for me.>”
Outis and Meursault nod and continue diligently working on the containment unit. Dante takes a quick last look at the two before beginning their little stroll.
They walk, one foot over the other, watching the LCA turn the Abnormalities into eggs. They see some of the other Sinners walk back and forth, exchanging waves or words when they see each other. They even noticed some of the LCD take part in the Abnormality suppression. It is their speciality, they suppose.
It’s a little refreshing to see people working without actually having to command others. Constantly worrying over who should fight what, what skill to use, if they should be a backup unit or deployed onto the field, what Identities and E.G.O. to use… it’s a headache all in of itself.
They take this time to reflect back on their journey up until this point. They often do this after every Sinner’s turn, looking back on what they did, what happened because of it, what they should have done differently, and what to do going forward.
They like to believe that they’ve grown over the two years in this company. They remember how spineless and meek they first were. They internally cringe. In their own defense, however, they had no idea who these people were at the time, or at all how The City works. They still don’t, not fully. So it’s nice to see that growth within looking back, to see the contrast between the LCB then and now.
But when they start to look back at the Nursefather’s ambush and Operation: Spider Pyre, they start to feel a pit form in their chest. It’s uncomfortable, almost nauseating. Now that they’re properly analyzing it, they’ve realized how much they screwed up.
It’s not the first time they’ve made mistakes, nor will it be the last. Everyone makes mistakes, as everyone always says. They’ve failed some missions, and no matter how much they try, they’ll inevitably fail again.
And yet, though they technically didn’t fail this mission, there were so many unnecessary losses that Dante could’ve definitely prevented. If they were stronger, more competent, less naive and stupid. Everyone else picked up that Sora was suspicious. Everyone else was willing to die over and over with or without the other Sinners. The Pinky Nursefather wasn’t even really raring for a fight, she was just observing! They could’ve found another way to get the Boughs. They could’ve done a tactical retreat. They could’ve warned Ravi. They could’ve kept Ryoshu in check. If they said something, she would still have her daughter. That was still within their control. Even then they could’ve… should’ve…
If they didn’t… pull that chain–
“Ow–”
“<Ah.>”
Dante feels a hard bump and stumbles onto the wall. The person they bumped into drops a pile of paper and a clipboard onto the floor. Not nearly as much paper as they thought the average researcher would have here, but maybe workload has been light due to the disarray this place is in.
They didn’t mean to space out so hard. So much to think about and it accidentally sent them down a spiral. They sigh and start picking up the papers, spouting out apologies before quickly realizing the other person won’t understand their words anyway.
“Oh, no need to tick so frantically,” the person says with a familiar, hushed voice. “Sorry about that.”
Dante looks up once they recognize the voice and they sigh once more. Though, maybe it’s more of a groan, but it’s not like Hohenheim will recognize the difference, maybe.
They pick up the nearest sheets of paper and hand it off to him. They hear a small “thank you” and nod in response. The exchange finishes and Dante begins to quickly make distance between the two.
Unfortunately, Hohenheim calls out their name and tells them to wait, putting their little getaway on pause. They stop in their tracks and turn around towards him.
Hohenheim comes in to close the newly made distance between them and Dante begins to feel a little anxious.
They’ve been trying to avoid Hohenheim whenever they can, in all honesty. All they can really manage is a few conversations here and there. Ever since they regrouped, Dante couldn’t even look towards the general direction of him or Alyssa for a while, let alone talk. Once they noticed that they were missing a survivor, it doesn’t take a mathematician to put two and two together. Faust recounting her and her group’s events just made Dante feel sick.
A noble sacrifice, but one that could’ve been avoided. Yet another example of Dante’s lackluster management and leadership.
“I’ve been trying to get to you for a while now,” Hohenheim says, flipping through the papers. “I felt like it was appropriate to update you about Gregor directly, as you are the Manager. That, and Vergilious as well. But for whatever reason, you usually turned away when I saw you.”
Oh, so he did notice.
“So, I usually have my assistant or one of the other Sinners pass word to you. Omitting some information of course. I don’t feel like adding unnecessary concern onto the other Sinners. Especially those who seem to not take such news well. It’ll probably be more of a hindrance to my progress, if anything.”
“<Unnecessary concern?>” Dante tilts their head to the side.
“I assume you want me to elaborate,” Dante nods in response. “Other than what the others have already informed you on, there are some… unknown variables that I don’t exactly know how to approach. Of course, it seems like Gregor has gotten his transformation, or metamorphosis, under control for now, but we’re not sure if it’s something he can suppress or keep under wraps as well as he used to. I assume it’s related to stress or unwanted memories of the Smoke War, but I cannot know for sure unless you and the other Sinners want to indulge in my curiosities again.”
Dante shakes their head. They’d rather not…
“Of course, I was merely joking,” Hohenheim clears his throat. “Again, this is information only you know of, aside from Faust and the Guide. I’d advise some caution while visiting him before I can assess the severity of the metamorphosis.”
Dante takes this information in and gets a little stuck on his choice of words. A whole lot of “I’s” and not a whole lot of “we’s” or “us.”
“<Are you… doing this all by yourself?>”
“...”
“<...>”
Oh wait…
“Was it something about Gregor?”
They almost nod, but stop themself. It’s not really about him, per se. They hesitantly shake their head.
“No? Then… hm.”
So Hohenheim belongs in the same category as Jia Xichun then. The one who tries to guess what Dante is trying to say without a nearby translator.
Well, he’s not nearly as persistent as her since he starts to turn to find an unwanted or empty page on his clipboard. He finds an empty spot on an important-looking piece of paper and hands it to Dante.
“Don’t worry, nothing important is on there.”
At least he’s one of the few that tries to understand them. After the half-hearted attempt at reassurance, Dante takes it from him and starts writing. They finish pretty quickly.
“I suddenly remember someone mentioning you write notes somewhere periodically,” Hohenheim comments as the clipboard is returned to him. “Maybe it would’ve been more convenient to ask… nevermind. Too late anyways.” He shrugs it off and begins reading.
Are you doing all this research on Gregor by yourself?
“Pretty much,” Hohenheim says indifferently. “The LCE Department has lost a large amount of its staff and researchers, which means there aren't a lot of people available to do any kind of research. It’s all part of my superiors’ plan to help integrate the LCE back to normalcy while the LCB and LCA clean everything up. I’m not sure how much of my ranting to Sinclair you’ve heard back during the operation, if you even tuned in at that point at all.”
They remember. They nod.
“Well then, I think I mentioned something about rehires. Anyway, I haven’t started on that yet and Alyssa still has ways to go in terms of recovery. Seeing as I am the only one left available who has worked with the Sinners before, they decided that I’m best for researching Gregor. That and the whole integrating part.”
Right. Dante shuffles their feet.
“Please don’t take any offense for Gregor’s sake. I don’t mean to turn him into a lab rat, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“<Huh? Wait– no. That’s not it.>”
“No?” Hohenheim pauses and, from the looks of it, thinks their answer over. “Then, what is it? Or is it all you have to say and I misread that completely?” He sighs. “I’ll work on that translator eventually…”
Does Dante really want to say? No need to reopen old wounds, even though Hohenheim doesn’t mind throwing mentions of his subordinate’s death out in the open. He goes even as far as to offer up the supply of the questionable drink without a second thought just a few days ago. It’s just how he is, they’ve been into his fathoms to know that this half-heartedness is just how he manages the difficult things.
They’ve been meaning to apologize, mainly just to get this sickly feeling out of their chest. It’s not the first time someone died while working alongside the sinners, but it’s the first time someone died because of Dante. Not necessarily the best feeling in the world.
But if Hohenheim is fine talking to them like this, disregarding it as he copes, what good does it do just to bring it up again?
Hohenheim hands the clipboard back to Dante, placing it directly in their hands.
“Speak your mind, Dante,” Hohenheim insists. “If this relates as to why you keep avoiding me, I’d like to be informed as to why instead of wasting my time looking for you. I’m only bringing it up because it’s quite the hassle.”
Dante thinks on it for a bit, and groans internally. Can’t wallow in their own grief and self-pity without doing anything about it, they suppose. Not that they can even imagine Hohenheim blowing up in their faces if they brought it up. Just a simple “sorry for accidentally leading your subordinate to your death,” heavy feelings lift, and they’ll go back to Meursault and Outis.
Cowardice, hesitation, their hands still slightly protest as they lift up the pen. They still have a long way to go to become the ideal manager if they can’t even manage a simple apology that’s long overdue.
Alright, how can they say this without it feeling disingenuous? Definitely not what they thought of earlier.
“Sorry for killing your subordinate?” Not necessarily correct. Dante didn’t exactly kill him.
“Sorry that I had to make you watch your subordinate explode?” Too descriptive. Wouldn't like that image to replay in Hohenheim’s head again. Dante shudders just imagining the scene.
“Sorry?” Too vague. Hohenheim might ask what the apology is for and they’ll circle back here.
Whatever. Just be sincere. Then everything will be fine.
After a bit of internal back and forth, they hastily write something on the clipboard and hand it back to Hohenheim.
I didn’t mean to force you to handle Callisto by yourself. I’m sorry for sending Marton to his death.
Hohenheim reads the paper and just sighs to himself. Dante waits and waits for this heavy feeling to lift, yet it still sits.
After a long pause, Hohenheim opens his mouth, closes it, and finally says something.
“I figured, honestly,” he fidgets with the pen Dante gave back. “It made the most logical sense as I tried to theorize your change in behavior just a week or so back. Especially since this started right as we regrouped after losing all the Golden Boughs. I noticed you generally avoided my gaze, which I assume was easy, considering the lack of eyes. But I didn’t say anything because I was… preoccupied with other matters.
“When we figured out about your abilities to summon Identities from the Sinners themselves, I will admit that amicable feelings were hard to express. But ultimately, as I’ve said to Marton before when Alyssa was left behind, when one's life is at risk, the brain instinctively reduces the processing of information to the bare minimum required for survival. You didn’t know about the consequences of pulling on that chain of yours. Marton’s death is the fault of the Nursefathers and the Nursefathers alone. Nothing more.”
Dante isn’t sure when the two started walking through the halls of the disorganized LCE Department, but the action is a bit calming. Dante has already reasoned it out before, desperately trying to justify every action they’ve made. Logically, they’ve done all they could back then, but they can’t stop thinking about how they could’ve done better.
“Not every mission will go their way, Dante,” Hohenheim continues. “Every single one of them will always throw a wrench in your plan no matter what. Whether it’s seeing your coworkers die to discover the ins and outs of a dangerous Abnormality, or having an entire group of Fingers out for you, the world will continue to turn and the City will always harbor pain. You just have to do what you can and push through all these, ugly, lingering feelings.”
Dante nods, taking in every word. They’ve been in plights where the Sinners had to die over and over before they could begin to even make a dent at the enemy. They have felt so much, unimaginable pain every time the Sinners had to be revived. Allies have died, losses could’ve been prevented.
But it’s nice to be reminded every now and again that Dante has tried their best with their numerous disadvantages. They’re still alive, somehow, and that’s proof that they must be doing some things right.
“Alyssa and I don’t harbor hatred for you, only for the circumstances that have pushed us to this point,” Hohenheim clarifies as he clears his throat. “I thought you would appreciate the confirmation.”
“<Yeah. That’s… This really helped a lot, thank you.>” Dante nods.
“Luckily I don’t need a little note to tell that was gratitude. It was nothing. In any case, I just hope you don’t feel the obligation to turn away when I approach. It would make things easier for the both of us.” Hohenheim flips through the papers on the clipboard and sighs. “Anyway, I’m going to visit Alyssa in the long-term recovery ward before continuing on with Gregor. She did ask for a favor so I’ll be off now.”
“<Ah, wait!>” Dante quickly taps on Hohenheim’s shoulder. The chief researcher turned around, eyebrow raised.
“Hm? Do you want to put a word in for her?”
They nod. “<Just tell her I said hi.>” They wave their hand.
“Alright, I’ll tell her you said hi,” Hey, he’s getting pretty good at this! Maybe with a bit of practice in, Dante would have to move Hohenheim to Vergilius’s category. “In any case, this will be where we’ll part ways for now. It seems like someone needs you right now.”
“<Hm?>”
“Manager,” a low, rough voice called out. “I’ve determined that the amount of time to complete a lap around the department should be around ten minutes at the absolute latest. While I suggested that you might be taking a stroll instead of a walk, thus explaining why you haven’t appeared once for a second lap, Outis expressed that I should come get you immediately, lest something happens to you.”
“<Oh, did it take that long already?>” It didn’t exactly feel like a ten minute walk. Mostly because it was more talking and less walking. Oops… “<Is there something that you guys need me to do?>”
“We simply determined that it would be faster if all three of us continued working once you came back. Are you well rested, manager?”
“<I’d say so, yeah,>” They feel a lot better, actually. It feels good to be the one getting the consultation for a change.
“Then we should get back now after you finish your conversation with Hohenheim.”
“<Ah, no need, Meursault. We were just finishing up.”>
“Before you two leave,” Hohenheim chimes in. “We just stocked up on some more supplies for the repair. They should be somewhere in that hallway over there,” he points somewhere to the left. “I’d recommend stocking up before returning to where you once were.”
“We’ll make sure of it,” Meursault replies. “We appreciate the notice.”
“Then I’m off,” Hohenheim then walks away towards the long-term ward, leaving as abruptly as he appeared.
Dante and Meursault make the small detour to resupply themselves before making their return towards whatever containment unit the two Sinners left off on. On their way, they see the other containment units. Some more neatly repaired than others. Dante could probably guess who repaired which one.
Not exactly perfect, but it does the job. The sinners are doing all they can. Could’ve been a nice metaphor if they didn’t need to be absolutely perfect to contain the Abnormalities properly, and it’s obvious the sloppiness of some are more due to laziness than lack of ability.
Maybe it makes it all the more important that Dante tries their best, so they don’t have to make some poor repairman fix more mistakes than they have to.
The two walk past a containment unit obviously repaired by an unsupervised Don Quixote. It doesn’t look any different to any of the broken ones, aside from the improper gluing and welding. Dante doesn’t know whether they should feel bad for the aforementioned repairman or laugh.
In any case, they’re starting to breathe a little lighter today.
These ugly, lingering feelings will still tighten around their heart and ribs. But as long as the bus keeps going, and if the Sinners are still pushing…
They’ll keep pushing too.