Pace the Night [Missing]
Nov. 18th, 2023 09:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonv2Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: M-21 didn't know where he was. But he did know someone was missing.
Notes: Post-S1.
Not sure if I wrote a similar idea already but ah well. :D
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Word count: 3,161
Total word count: 33,533
Status: Work in progress
M-21 didn't know where he was. It was a strange place he hadn't been before and he didn't recognise the scents either.
There was no M-24 here.
He was in a small room with a small window and the floor was soft under his paws. The room wasn't empty or filled with trash either.
He gave the table a quick check before heading for the window - he didn't know what was further in the building or who was there, but it was clear M-24 wasn't here. He would look elsewhere.
The window was easy to open and when he poked his head out, he saw he was only one floor up. Easy. He dropped, landing on grass and he shook himself off.
"What was that?"
He'd been heard! M-21 heard footsteps coming closer to the glass he was next to and he dashed away, leaping over the hedge and claws scrabbling against the street.
"M-21-!"
Someone who knew his codename.
Someone who knew who he was.
He should return. He would get in trouble the longer he didn't obey commands.
But he had to find M-24.
He made it as far as the street corner before he heard a pounding of paws following after him. They'd sent hounds after him!
A quick glance over his shoulder and - it wasn't a hound, their limbs too long, hands too wide, and he was never going to outrun that! It was almost upon him already and M-21 yelped as fangs grabbed him by the back of the neck and he was lifted off his paws.
He had to get away, even if he was so close to getting his neck snapped. If he couldn't find M-24-!
"M-21-"
He heard the words. There were more words following it but all he could see was the spotless white coat.
He was in trouble.
He went limp. If he was good now, would he be punished less or had he angered the scientist too much?
"No, that's not-" A soft sigh, as M-21 tried to meld further into the not-hound. "We'll continue this inside."
So it was easier to clean up.
Once they were inside, M-21 was let go in a large bright room and he huddled in on himself, tail curling around his paws as he tried to make himself as small as possible in front of the scientist.
"M-21, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
That was a lie. Scientists always lied when they said that.
A rustling sound and then movement in M-21's vision as the - the white coat was gone?
"I see... You don't like the white coat, do you?"
M-21 rumbled softly in his chest, checking how the not-scientist reacted as he sat in front of M-21.
"That's quite all right. I don't need to wear it right now."
That wasn't how a scientist acted. Was he not really a scientist?
"I suppose reintroductions are in order," the person said. "I'm Frankenstein," he said, and then waved to the not-hound, "and this is Muzaka."
Muzaka huffed, waving a paw. Except when he moved closer, M-21 froze, waiting to see what he would do.
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said, voice still calm and soft, "he doesn't like that."
Muzaka turned to Frankenstein and whined, but he went to Frankenstein's side instead.
"Were you wanting to go somewhere?" Frankenstein asked, one hand buried in Muzaka's fur.
M-21 studied Frankenstein. Frankenstein didn't act like a scientist. Didn't smell like one either. Then maybe he wasn't one? The longer he hesitated, the less time he had to look for M-24.
M-21 tipped his head back and howled.
He cut his howl short when another voice joined him. He stared at Muzaka, who was doing the same as him.
That.
That sounded right. A howl that rang like his own.
It wasn't the voice he wanted to hear.
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said, his voice holding something M-21 couldn't identify. "He needs us to listen, not join in."
Muzaka stopped with a grumble, peeking at M-21 through his fur.
"Though since M-21 howled..." Frankenstein rubbed his chin, eyes going to the side. "That's a pack activity." He looked back at M-21. "Are you looking for your pack?"
He understood! M-21 nodded. His pack was just M-24 - that was why he had to find him!
"Ah..."
M-21's ears flattened. Why did Frankenstein sound like that?
"I'm sorry to say-"
No. Nonono-! M-24 couldn't be! If M-21 left now, he would find M-24!
M-21 knew the way out. The door opened before he reached it.
It didn't matter why. Union doors did that.
He had to find M-24.
* * *
M-21 was being herded. Muzaka bounded next to him, coming closer to steer him in a certain direction while Frankenstein followed at a distance. M-21 knew he was being herded. He wasn't being taken back to the other building and that was what mattered.
They were heading deeper into the city, not leaving it. Were they going to show him where they thought M-24 was?
Except the more they travelled, the more M-21 slowed, until Muzaka turned back to look at him.
Something was wrong.
He couldn't smell anything that could tell him what, but he knew something was wrong.
"M-21," Frankenstein said from behind them, "do you want to keep going?"
No. He didn't.
But he had to.
He had to know.
He had to make sure.
* * *
M-21 smelled it as soon as Muzaka opened the door. Old blood. Raw meat. Death.
M-24's death.
He whined, limbs trembling. No...
Paws dragging, he walked into the building, following where the scent was strongest.
Jake's scent was there but that didn't matter.
M-24's did.
It clogged M-21's snout until he couldn't smell anything else.
He wouldn't smell it again after this. He knew that now.
Dark corridors and twisted debris, some lights still flickering on and off.
It didn't matter.
He just followed his nose.
The floor was sticky under his paws. They had been since he'd entered the building but he stared at the mound of a collapsed ceiling in front of him, knowing there was nowhere else to go.
There was no more pack.
There was no-one else.
He was alone now.
M-21 howled, his voice bouncing back at him but there was no response, no-one else joining his call. He howled and howled, until it felt like a scream and his claws dug into the floor, the fur around his snout wet.
He was alone.
He didn't know how long he did that, but he eventually stopped, his throat feeling like he'd been fed acid.
He heard footsteps approaching over his ragged breathing and he hunched his shoulders, his ears pinned back.
"I'm sorry it hadn't ended another way." How had it ended? Why was he alive and his pack wasn't? "Do you want to come back with us?"
He didn't want to go anywhere.
He wanted to be with his pack.
But he'd already gone with Frankenstein and Muzaka before. That was why he'd woken up there.
M-21 sniffed the rubble one last time, trying to memorise as much of M-24's scent as possible.
Everything felt heavy when M-21 stood up, his paws dragging on the ground.
Muzaka appeared by his side, trying to get close and M-21 whirled on him, snapping. Muzaka backed off fast enough that M-21's fangs only clipped air. He wasn't pack.
"Muzaka."
With a whine, Muzaka went back to Frankenstein.
And that was it. Frankenstein wasn't mad he'd snapped at Muzaka?
Apparently.
They went back to Frankenstein and Muzaka's place, M-21 turning back every so often until he lost sight of the building.
"I'll make us something to eat then."
M-21 heard Frankenstein's words, but he just sat on the floor, staring into space.
He was somewhere that seemed safe and warm. It didn't smell like a lab.
And...
His mind was blank.
He didn't want to think.
"M-21...?"
He looked over and Frankenstein was there, carrying a plate in each hand.
"Come on. You should eat."
He didn't feel hungry, but he followed Frankenstein to where Frankenstein put the plates on a large table. Muzaka was already on one of the chairs, ears perked, paws on the table and tail waving.
M-21 didn't feel hungry but his nose twitched at the plate in front of him. Muzaka was already eating, tail wagging even harder as he rumbled.
Just one bite. That should make Frankenstein happy.
It was meat, easy to hold in his paws and - it tasted wonderful. One bite turned into another and another and then M-21 was staring at an empty plate.
M-24 would have loved that.
"Do you want more?"
M-21 shook his head, breathing hitching again. He'd eaten too much already. More than he was used to.
He backed off, ears flattening at the scrape of the chair legs against the floor. Frankenstein didn't say anything, or as M-21 left the room.
The house was unfamiliar. He didn't know where to go; he didn't know where he wanted to go.
M-21 found himself in the bigger room again and squeezed himself into a ball in a corner. What could he do? He couldn't leave. He had no pack. Jake was dead.
He would be blamed for that. He couldn't return there.
The clip of nails on the floor, but M-21 didn't have the energy to snap when Muzaka lay down next to him. Close, but not enough to touch.
Muzaka wasn't pack, wasn't M-21's pack, but...he was a warm body close by.
He saw Muzaka relax as time passed, Muzaka looking at him and then away again.
He heard what had to be Frankenstein's footsteps, but Frankenstein didn't call out and-
A snap of fabric and M-21 tensed as something fell on top of him. Something soft and it moulded to his body. He looked over his shoulder at it. A blanket.
"Try to keep this on, please," Frankenstein said as he draped another blanket over Muzaka.
"Hnnng-!"
"It will be helpful in the morning." There was the hard tone in Frankenstein's voice and M-21 settled down.
Muzaka did too, no longer trying to twist under it.
In the morning?
The sky was still dark, but if it was important to Frankenstein, he would do what he was told.
* * *
M-21 woke up naked, laying on tiles. It should have felt like the Union, but there was something thick on top of him keeping him warm and the air smelled of food, not artificial cleaners or the scents they were trying to hide.
There was someone breathing next to him and M-21 whirled around, hoping to see-
Long white hair and scars dotting what skin M-21 could see from limbs tangled up in another blanket.
Muzaka, right?
And M-21 was here because...
Yeah...
But why was he here in the living room? What had happened last night and why couldn't he remember? He'd gone to the soft bed in the room with closed windows and heating, and he woke up here.
He stilled at a soft knock. "M-21?" Frankenstein's voice came through the door. "I've left some clothes next to you. Breakfast will be ready once you're done."
What the fuck had happened last night and what had Frankenstein seen?
There was a pile close to M-21's head (and another next to Muzaka's). They were easy to put on and - huh. They fit.
M-21's mind was a mess as he left the living room, trying to figure out what could happen next. But he couldn't know if he didn't know what the fuck he'd done!
Breakfast was meant to be ready except where was he meant to go for it? There was a door ajar in the corridor and M-21 peeked in there.
A table laden with food that M-21 had never even seen before.
"Take a seat," Frankenstein said with a smile, setting down another plate of food.
It was just the three of them here, wasn't it? They couldn't finish all that.
M-21 sat down anyway. There were only three empty plates next to the chairs.
"You can eat whatever you want," Frankenstein said, already taking a portion for himself.
Of what? M-21 had no idea what any of this was, but if Frankenstein was eating from that plate, that should be fine to eat too.
"Do you want to talk about last night?"
Fuck no. "Do you?" M-21 said instead as he pretended to choose another plate. How much had Frankenstein seen?
Frankenstein exhaled, threading his fingers together as he leaned his elbows on the table. "Night can reflect a werewolf's temperament, especially on specific lunar phases and..." Frankenstein peered at him, and shit, he'd been staring. "You didn't know?"
M-21 knew about werewolves but he was human. "You think I'm a werewolf?" He didn't have his memories before before the Union, but he was human.
He had to be human.
Frankenstein frowned. "My apologies - I misspoke. To be clear, Muzaka and I weren't certain if you were a werewolf, but with your transformation and your reaction to the full moon last night, it's a strong correlation in the very least."
His transformation was like a werewolf's? And his reaction?
He'd lost his mind again. Shit.
There had been nights where he would act like an animal, where he couldn't talk. It had started off feeling like he'd been drugged, in a haze where he could remember what happened the day after like it had been a dream and M-24 would tell him after what he'd done. But as the months passed, the more and more M-21 lost himself, and had no recollection of what happened.
Was it because he was a werewolf?
It wasn't his body breaking down?
Wait...
"But-" He cleared his throat, grimacing at the itchiness there. What had he done last night? "Muzaka's transformation is like mine?"
Far more widespread and stronger, clearly. But close enough that they looked similar.
A fond smile grew on Frankenstein's face. "Yes, that's because Muzaka is a werewolf."
He was?
M-21 heard someone walking up the corridor.
"Morn'!" Muzaka called out with a yawn as he sat down.
Frankenstein sighed with a shake of his head. "I left you a top as well."
Muzaka was shirtless and he shrugged. "I don't need it."
A tut in response, but Muzaka was already grabbing food off the plates and eating.
Just where the hell had M-21 ended up?
"How you doin' after last night?" Muzaka asked, picking at different plates. He didn't check them, didn't sniff or study the dishes. Like he trusted Frankenstein's cooking.
Muzaka remembered? But he was a werewolf? Or was it because he was a werewolf?
"I dunno," M-21 said, playing with some of the food on his plate, watching Muzaka eat.
That answer seemed enough to satisfy Muzaka.
"What do you remember from last night?" Frankenstein asked, his gaze steady on M-21, like he was looking right into M-21's thoughts.
Shit. What could he say? He couldn't bluff his way through because he had no information. His memory of last night was a complete blank.
Frankenstein and Muzaka weren't Union. They'd told him that. He'd known them for a week and they'd already proven it a thousand different ways.
He'd shown so much weakness in front of them already and they hadn't taken advantage of it. They could be waiting for a better opportunity, but... There was no reason to hide their intentions if they could just force it from him.
M-21 exhaled. "I don't remember anything." It felt weird. Saying the truth. To not try and figure out what else he could say to make conversation twist into his favour.
Muzaka frowned, his head cocking to the side while Frankenstein nodded.
"As I said earlier," Frankenstein said, "a werewolf's temperament is more easily seen especially during the full moon and while your status as a full blooded werewolf is in question considering you don't remember last night, your more core nature did surface last night."
M-21 snorted as he tapped his thumb against the plate. "I turned into a fucking bloodthirsty monster, right? So I had to get locked up or whatever." That was all he was.
He caught the look Frankenstein and Muzaka shared with each other.
But M-21 hadn't woken up restrained, and it didn't feel like he'd been drugged, or even hurt. No bruises or cuts. He'd never tried to hurt M-24 during those times either, from what little he could remember or what M-24 told him when he started to forget those nights.
"What?" M-21 finally said when it looked like Frankenstein and Muzaka were still having a silent conversation between them.
"That ain't your core nature," Muzaka said.
M-21 frowned. He was nothing else. He killed, he tortured people for fun, he lashed out at people just because they're gotten in his way. "Then what the fuck was I doing last night?" What was his 'core nature'? That he took a nap at the end of the night?
Frankenstein set down his chopsticks, still looking like he was trying to find the right words. "You were trying to find your pack last night."
His 'pack'? He didn't have a - M-21 went cold, his throat closing up.
No. That wasn't - but it fucking was.
"That was all you wanted to do last night," Frankenstein continued, his voice soft.
He'd wanted to find his pack. He didn't have one. Not anymore. "What did..."
"You went looking," Frankenstein said. "We, ah, helped you find his resting place, and we let you mourn."
He'd done that already. But had he really? Everything still hurt and he kept looking out for M-24 out of habit, because M-24 had always been there at his side since they'd met.
M-21's eyesight wavered and he scrubbed at them, trying to control his hitching breathing. He'd cried in front of them before, but he didn't want to keep doing it.
His body didn't care what he thought. His heart ached and he knew it wasn't going to stop any time soon, even if he thought it had.
But.
He was allowed to do that here.
* * *
M-21 wasn't sure how long he cried for, but the food was cold and there was a bunch of used tissues next to him.
Muzaka was gone. M-21 wasn't sure when he left.
"Here," Muzaka said, setting a steaming plate of food near M-21. "You should have something hot to eat."
Why did that matter? He did seem hungrier though. He didn't know why - he hadn't done anything.
Frankenstein and Muzaka weren't his 'pack'. They weren't his series. They weren't M-24.
But they were people who were willing to be around him and didn't mock him or hold their power over him.
For now, that was what mattered.
Summary: M-21 didn't know where he was. But he did know someone was missing.
Notes: Post-S1.
Not sure if I wrote a similar idea already but ah well. :D
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Word count: 3,161
Total word count: 33,533
Status: Work in progress
M-21 didn't know where he was. It was a strange place he hadn't been before and he didn't recognise the scents either.
There was no M-24 here.
He was in a small room with a small window and the floor was soft under his paws. The room wasn't empty or filled with trash either.
He gave the table a quick check before heading for the window - he didn't know what was further in the building or who was there, but it was clear M-24 wasn't here. He would look elsewhere.
The window was easy to open and when he poked his head out, he saw he was only one floor up. Easy. He dropped, landing on grass and he shook himself off.
"What was that?"
He'd been heard! M-21 heard footsteps coming closer to the glass he was next to and he dashed away, leaping over the hedge and claws scrabbling against the street.
"M-21-!"
Someone who knew his codename.
Someone who knew who he was.
He should return. He would get in trouble the longer he didn't obey commands.
But he had to find M-24.
He made it as far as the street corner before he heard a pounding of paws following after him. They'd sent hounds after him!
A quick glance over his shoulder and - it wasn't a hound, their limbs too long, hands too wide, and he was never going to outrun that! It was almost upon him already and M-21 yelped as fangs grabbed him by the back of the neck and he was lifted off his paws.
He had to get away, even if he was so close to getting his neck snapped. If he couldn't find M-24-!
"M-21-"
He heard the words. There were more words following it but all he could see was the spotless white coat.
He was in trouble.
He went limp. If he was good now, would he be punished less or had he angered the scientist too much?
"No, that's not-" A soft sigh, as M-21 tried to meld further into the not-hound. "We'll continue this inside."
So it was easier to clean up.
Once they were inside, M-21 was let go in a large bright room and he huddled in on himself, tail curling around his paws as he tried to make himself as small as possible in front of the scientist.
"M-21, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
That was a lie. Scientists always lied when they said that.
A rustling sound and then movement in M-21's vision as the - the white coat was gone?
"I see... You don't like the white coat, do you?"
M-21 rumbled softly in his chest, checking how the not-scientist reacted as he sat in front of M-21.
"That's quite all right. I don't need to wear it right now."
That wasn't how a scientist acted. Was he not really a scientist?
"I suppose reintroductions are in order," the person said. "I'm Frankenstein," he said, and then waved to the not-hound, "and this is Muzaka."
Muzaka huffed, waving a paw. Except when he moved closer, M-21 froze, waiting to see what he would do.
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said, voice still calm and soft, "he doesn't like that."
Muzaka turned to Frankenstein and whined, but he went to Frankenstein's side instead.
"Were you wanting to go somewhere?" Frankenstein asked, one hand buried in Muzaka's fur.
M-21 studied Frankenstein. Frankenstein didn't act like a scientist. Didn't smell like one either. Then maybe he wasn't one? The longer he hesitated, the less time he had to look for M-24.
M-21 tipped his head back and howled.
He cut his howl short when another voice joined him. He stared at Muzaka, who was doing the same as him.
That.
That sounded right. A howl that rang like his own.
It wasn't the voice he wanted to hear.
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said, his voice holding something M-21 couldn't identify. "He needs us to listen, not join in."
Muzaka stopped with a grumble, peeking at M-21 through his fur.
"Though since M-21 howled..." Frankenstein rubbed his chin, eyes going to the side. "That's a pack activity." He looked back at M-21. "Are you looking for your pack?"
He understood! M-21 nodded. His pack was just M-24 - that was why he had to find him!
"Ah..."
M-21's ears flattened. Why did Frankenstein sound like that?
"I'm sorry to say-"
No. Nonono-! M-24 couldn't be! If M-21 left now, he would find M-24!
M-21 knew the way out. The door opened before he reached it.
It didn't matter why. Union doors did that.
He had to find M-24.
M-21 was being herded. Muzaka bounded next to him, coming closer to steer him in a certain direction while Frankenstein followed at a distance. M-21 knew he was being herded. He wasn't being taken back to the other building and that was what mattered.
They were heading deeper into the city, not leaving it. Were they going to show him where they thought M-24 was?
Except the more they travelled, the more M-21 slowed, until Muzaka turned back to look at him.
Something was wrong.
He couldn't smell anything that could tell him what, but he knew something was wrong.
"M-21," Frankenstein said from behind them, "do you want to keep going?"
No. He didn't.
But he had to.
He had to know.
He had to make sure.
M-21 smelled it as soon as Muzaka opened the door. Old blood. Raw meat. Death.
M-24's death.
He whined, limbs trembling. No...
Paws dragging, he walked into the building, following where the scent was strongest.
Jake's scent was there but that didn't matter.
M-24's did.
It clogged M-21's snout until he couldn't smell anything else.
He wouldn't smell it again after this. He knew that now.
Dark corridors and twisted debris, some lights still flickering on and off.
It didn't matter.
He just followed his nose.
The floor was sticky under his paws. They had been since he'd entered the building but he stared at the mound of a collapsed ceiling in front of him, knowing there was nowhere else to go.
There was no more pack.
There was no-one else.
He was alone now.
M-21 howled, his voice bouncing back at him but there was no response, no-one else joining his call. He howled and howled, until it felt like a scream and his claws dug into the floor, the fur around his snout wet.
He was alone.
He didn't know how long he did that, but he eventually stopped, his throat feeling like he'd been fed acid.
He heard footsteps approaching over his ragged breathing and he hunched his shoulders, his ears pinned back.
"I'm sorry it hadn't ended another way." How had it ended? Why was he alive and his pack wasn't? "Do you want to come back with us?"
He didn't want to go anywhere.
He wanted to be with his pack.
But he'd already gone with Frankenstein and Muzaka before. That was why he'd woken up there.
M-21 sniffed the rubble one last time, trying to memorise as much of M-24's scent as possible.
Everything felt heavy when M-21 stood up, his paws dragging on the ground.
Muzaka appeared by his side, trying to get close and M-21 whirled on him, snapping. Muzaka backed off fast enough that M-21's fangs only clipped air. He wasn't pack.
"Muzaka."
With a whine, Muzaka went back to Frankenstein.
And that was it. Frankenstein wasn't mad he'd snapped at Muzaka?
Apparently.
They went back to Frankenstein and Muzaka's place, M-21 turning back every so often until he lost sight of the building.
"I'll make us something to eat then."
M-21 heard Frankenstein's words, but he just sat on the floor, staring into space.
He was somewhere that seemed safe and warm. It didn't smell like a lab.
And...
His mind was blank.
He didn't want to think.
"M-21...?"
He looked over and Frankenstein was there, carrying a plate in each hand.
"Come on. You should eat."
He didn't feel hungry, but he followed Frankenstein to where Frankenstein put the plates on a large table. Muzaka was already on one of the chairs, ears perked, paws on the table and tail waving.
M-21 didn't feel hungry but his nose twitched at the plate in front of him. Muzaka was already eating, tail wagging even harder as he rumbled.
Just one bite. That should make Frankenstein happy.
It was meat, easy to hold in his paws and - it tasted wonderful. One bite turned into another and another and then M-21 was staring at an empty plate.
M-24 would have loved that.
"Do you want more?"
M-21 shook his head, breathing hitching again. He'd eaten too much already. More than he was used to.
He backed off, ears flattening at the scrape of the chair legs against the floor. Frankenstein didn't say anything, or as M-21 left the room.
The house was unfamiliar. He didn't know where to go; he didn't know where he wanted to go.
M-21 found himself in the bigger room again and squeezed himself into a ball in a corner. What could he do? He couldn't leave. He had no pack. Jake was dead.
He would be blamed for that. He couldn't return there.
The clip of nails on the floor, but M-21 didn't have the energy to snap when Muzaka lay down next to him. Close, but not enough to touch.
Muzaka wasn't pack, wasn't M-21's pack, but...he was a warm body close by.
He saw Muzaka relax as time passed, Muzaka looking at him and then away again.
He heard what had to be Frankenstein's footsteps, but Frankenstein didn't call out and-
A snap of fabric and M-21 tensed as something fell on top of him. Something soft and it moulded to his body. He looked over his shoulder at it. A blanket.
"Try to keep this on, please," Frankenstein said as he draped another blanket over Muzaka.
"Hnnng-!"
"It will be helpful in the morning." There was the hard tone in Frankenstein's voice and M-21 settled down.
Muzaka did too, no longer trying to twist under it.
In the morning?
The sky was still dark, but if it was important to Frankenstein, he would do what he was told.
M-21 woke up naked, laying on tiles. It should have felt like the Union, but there was something thick on top of him keeping him warm and the air smelled of food, not artificial cleaners or the scents they were trying to hide.
There was someone breathing next to him and M-21 whirled around, hoping to see-
Long white hair and scars dotting what skin M-21 could see from limbs tangled up in another blanket.
Muzaka, right?
And M-21 was here because...
Yeah...
But why was he here in the living room? What had happened last night and why couldn't he remember? He'd gone to the soft bed in the room with closed windows and heating, and he woke up here.
He stilled at a soft knock. "M-21?" Frankenstein's voice came through the door. "I've left some clothes next to you. Breakfast will be ready once you're done."
What the fuck had happened last night and what had Frankenstein seen?
There was a pile close to M-21's head (and another next to Muzaka's). They were easy to put on and - huh. They fit.
M-21's mind was a mess as he left the living room, trying to figure out what could happen next. But he couldn't know if he didn't know what the fuck he'd done!
Breakfast was meant to be ready except where was he meant to go for it? There was a door ajar in the corridor and M-21 peeked in there.
A table laden with food that M-21 had never even seen before.
"Take a seat," Frankenstein said with a smile, setting down another plate of food.
It was just the three of them here, wasn't it? They couldn't finish all that.
M-21 sat down anyway. There were only three empty plates next to the chairs.
"You can eat whatever you want," Frankenstein said, already taking a portion for himself.
Of what? M-21 had no idea what any of this was, but if Frankenstein was eating from that plate, that should be fine to eat too.
"Do you want to talk about last night?"
Fuck no. "Do you?" M-21 said instead as he pretended to choose another plate. How much had Frankenstein seen?
Frankenstein exhaled, threading his fingers together as he leaned his elbows on the table. "Night can reflect a werewolf's temperament, especially on specific lunar phases and..." Frankenstein peered at him, and shit, he'd been staring. "You didn't know?"
M-21 knew about werewolves but he was human. "You think I'm a werewolf?" He didn't have his memories before before the Union, but he was human.
He had to be human.
Frankenstein frowned. "My apologies - I misspoke. To be clear, Muzaka and I weren't certain if you were a werewolf, but with your transformation and your reaction to the full moon last night, it's a strong correlation in the very least."
His transformation was like a werewolf's? And his reaction?
He'd lost his mind again. Shit.
There had been nights where he would act like an animal, where he couldn't talk. It had started off feeling like he'd been drugged, in a haze where he could remember what happened the day after like it had been a dream and M-24 would tell him after what he'd done. But as the months passed, the more and more M-21 lost himself, and had no recollection of what happened.
Was it because he was a werewolf?
It wasn't his body breaking down?
Wait...
"But-" He cleared his throat, grimacing at the itchiness there. What had he done last night? "Muzaka's transformation is like mine?"
Far more widespread and stronger, clearly. But close enough that they looked similar.
A fond smile grew on Frankenstein's face. "Yes, that's because Muzaka is a werewolf."
He was?
M-21 heard someone walking up the corridor.
"Morn'!" Muzaka called out with a yawn as he sat down.
Frankenstein sighed with a shake of his head. "I left you a top as well."
Muzaka was shirtless and he shrugged. "I don't need it."
A tut in response, but Muzaka was already grabbing food off the plates and eating.
Just where the hell had M-21 ended up?
"How you doin' after last night?" Muzaka asked, picking at different plates. He didn't check them, didn't sniff or study the dishes. Like he trusted Frankenstein's cooking.
Muzaka remembered? But he was a werewolf? Or was it because he was a werewolf?
"I dunno," M-21 said, playing with some of the food on his plate, watching Muzaka eat.
That answer seemed enough to satisfy Muzaka.
"What do you remember from last night?" Frankenstein asked, his gaze steady on M-21, like he was looking right into M-21's thoughts.
Shit. What could he say? He couldn't bluff his way through because he had no information. His memory of last night was a complete blank.
Frankenstein and Muzaka weren't Union. They'd told him that. He'd known them for a week and they'd already proven it a thousand different ways.
He'd shown so much weakness in front of them already and they hadn't taken advantage of it. They could be waiting for a better opportunity, but... There was no reason to hide their intentions if they could just force it from him.
M-21 exhaled. "I don't remember anything." It felt weird. Saying the truth. To not try and figure out what else he could say to make conversation twist into his favour.
Muzaka frowned, his head cocking to the side while Frankenstein nodded.
"As I said earlier," Frankenstein said, "a werewolf's temperament is more easily seen especially during the full moon and while your status as a full blooded werewolf is in question considering you don't remember last night, your more core nature did surface last night."
M-21 snorted as he tapped his thumb against the plate. "I turned into a fucking bloodthirsty monster, right? So I had to get locked up or whatever." That was all he was.
He caught the look Frankenstein and Muzaka shared with each other.
But M-21 hadn't woken up restrained, and it didn't feel like he'd been drugged, or even hurt. No bruises or cuts. He'd never tried to hurt M-24 during those times either, from what little he could remember or what M-24 told him when he started to forget those nights.
"What?" M-21 finally said when it looked like Frankenstein and Muzaka were still having a silent conversation between them.
"That ain't your core nature," Muzaka said.
M-21 frowned. He was nothing else. He killed, he tortured people for fun, he lashed out at people just because they're gotten in his way. "Then what the fuck was I doing last night?" What was his 'core nature'? That he took a nap at the end of the night?
Frankenstein set down his chopsticks, still looking like he was trying to find the right words. "You were trying to find your pack last night."
His 'pack'? He didn't have a - M-21 went cold, his throat closing up.
No. That wasn't - but it fucking was.
"That was all you wanted to do last night," Frankenstein continued, his voice soft.
He'd wanted to find his pack. He didn't have one. Not anymore. "What did..."
"You went looking," Frankenstein said. "We, ah, helped you find his resting place, and we let you mourn."
He'd done that already. But had he really? Everything still hurt and he kept looking out for M-24 out of habit, because M-24 had always been there at his side since they'd met.
M-21's eyesight wavered and he scrubbed at them, trying to control his hitching breathing. He'd cried in front of them before, but he didn't want to keep doing it.
His body didn't care what he thought. His heart ached and he knew it wasn't going to stop any time soon, even if he thought it had.
But.
He was allowed to do that here.
M-21 wasn't sure how long he cried for, but the food was cold and there was a bunch of used tissues next to him.
Muzaka was gone. M-21 wasn't sure when he left.
"Here," Muzaka said, setting a steaming plate of food near M-21. "You should have something hot to eat."
Why did that matter? He did seem hungrier though. He didn't know why - he hadn't done anything.
Frankenstein and Muzaka weren't his 'pack'. They weren't his series. They weren't M-24.
But they were people who were willing to be around him and didn't mock him or hold their power over him.
For now, that was what mattered.