Travel the World
Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: M-21 and M-24 saw a lot of places when they worked for the Union.
Rating: R
Notes: Contains swearing, descriptions of pain, and murder.
Set pre-canon.
These scenes don't properly follow one another, so there could be gaps of hours/days/weeks/months between a scene, to lessen confusion.
For the prompt, 'Noblesse, M-21 & M-24, around the world'. Thank you darlingfox for prompting it and helping with some of the scenes!
Damn, forgot just how much M-21's changed over the series. Couldn't write them like that!
Hey, lucathia-rykatu, you know when I laughed when I saw your word count for Magical? I am so sorry! ;_______; This fic wouldn't eeeeeeend.
Had So Much fun writing this! Even though it's Damn Long. XD;;
Watch out for the genre shifts. ;D
Genre: Friendship.
Word count: 7,532
Status: Complete
Doctor Crombell steepled his fingertips above his desk as he ran his eyes up and down M-21 and M-24. They stayed silent, waiting for when he finished his assessment of them.
"Your bodies can no longer handle being experimented on," he informed them mildly.
M-21 knew that, had known that once the scientists stopped coming to see them several days ago. Had they been a success, or were they about to be discarded?
A folder was slid across the desk to them. After checking Doctor Crombell's expression (patient, waiting), M-21 picked it up with cautious fingers. There were several papers in it, some of them maps, others detailed information about…
"Make yourself useful; don't draw attention to youselves."
M-21 flinched at his lapse; you did not get distracted when Doctor Crombell was in the room - or any of the scientists.
"Yes, sir."
Doctor Crombell turned back to his computer, signalling the end of the discussion.
M-21 and M-24 left the room as silently as they could.
* * *
They left straight away; they had no clothes to pack, no items to bring - there was an envelope of money enclosed with the folder, so when they did need something, they would use that.
M-21 flicked through a few pages as they walked, just to see if they would be transported to their destination, or if they were expected to make their own way there. Hm. They would be driven to the docks, and from there they would take a ship. Once they got off, that was when they would be left to their own devices.
M-21 stared at those words, a faint hope stirring in him. They would be free, no-one watching their every move, taking notes? That…M-21 couldn't believe they were allowed to leave the institute without some way of tracking them. Unless it was in the folder…?
Unsettled, M-21 closed it and continued on to the exit, M-24's footsteps a comforting presence beside him. They knew where it was, if only because that had been the one area they'd been explicitly told to not go to (the rest of the time they were told to go to a specific room and it was expected that they would obey without any delays or distractions).
When M-21 saw the door, its clear glass letting bright sunlight stream into the corridor, flanked by armed guards, his heart began to race, his stomach twisting in anticipation and dread. What if this was just another test? What if they weren't going to be allowed out? If they were shot in the back as they left? But that was too much subterfuge - if Doctor Crombell wanted them dead, they would have died in the lab, Doctor Crombell's face the last thing they saw, like he had done with so many of their comrades.
The guards didn't so much as twitch as they walked past, but M-21 could feel their eyes on him and that made him even tenser.
The door swished open and M-21 was hit with the scent of green, unidentifiable fresh smells that didn't hold the stink of fear or sweat, but he did identify pollen, like the flower Doctor Lysen had taken to wearing for a few weeks.
M-21's heart started to beat wildly as they crossed the threshold, feeling the sun's warmth as soon as it touched him and he winced once he stepped fully into the sunlight, feeling it sear the back of his eyeballs. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but the world seemed far too bright after being used to the artificial lights of the labs.
There was a black car waiting in front of them, a woman in a black suit standing by its front door. M-21 could see the tell-tale bulge of a gun holster under her clothing and he started to wonder again if they were going to be taken somewhere and killed. As they neared her, the woman inclined her head.
"M-21 and M-24?" Her voice held no inflection, no question - detached, like the scientists.
He nodded.
"Get in."
They moved to follow her orders.
* * *
M-21 and M-24 didn't talk as they were driven to the docks. Talking while other people were in the room garnered too much attention, knowing smirks thrown in their direction. Instead, M-21 watched the tall buildings as they passed, taking in the clothing people wore, the preoccupied faces, the groups. There were a few times when the car had stopped that people outside paid attention to him - particularly to his hair and scar. After the third time M-21 caught someone staring at him, M-21 turned his attention to the car's interior. There wasn't much to look at: a few bottles of water, used cigarette butts, a pad of paper.
He couldn't ask how long it would take to arrive to their destination so he stayed quiet and began to read the contents of the folder.
* * *
Some time later, after M-21 had memorised the details of their assignment, the car neared the docks and M-21 watched as the ships grew larger and larger with each passing second.
They stopped next to one of the smaller ones, less colourful than the others, but still looking sturdy. Not that M-21 knew what a well-made ship looked like, but it didn't look like it would fall apart if it was given a hard knock, at least.
The woman didn't get out with M-21 and M-24, but M-21 didn't expect her to. He could hear the waves lapping at the ship's side, the grating caw of the birds that wheeled overhead, the shouts of the sailors. The salt in the air was thick, tickling M-21's nose. It wasn't enough to make him sneeze but it was definitely something he hoped he would get used to quickly.
He heard the car pull away as soon as they started to board the ship. M-21 could feel the ship shift under him and he frowned as he used the rope to steady himself. When he looked behind him, he could see M-24 was having the same problems as him. So long as the ship didn't move too much while they were on it, he should be all right.
* * *
Half-an-hour later, M-21 found himself throwing up over the side of the ship.
* * *
M-21 spent an absolute miserable amount of time hanging over the edge of the ship, watching the waves move restlessly under him. Nothing helped him feel better and he eventually resigned himself to staying there for the entire trip. In some ways, he thought morbidly, it wasn't much different to what had been done to him on a regular basis by the scientists: he would be given something that his body would react to, he would get used to it (or he didn't), and then he would be given something else that made his body react in a completely different way. This time, it was the environment that was making his body react, and like normal, there wasn't anything he could do to escape from it but to wait it out, hoping it wouldn't get worse.
M-24 hadn't left his side the entire time they'd been at sea, and his presence did make M-21 feel better, even if his stomach felt like shit from heaving so often.
They only had a few more hours to go until they could get off the ship; he just had to survive until then.
* * *
The ground felt like it was moving under M-21, even when he knew and could see it wasn't. He glowered darkly at the ship behind him but moved to let M-24 onto solid ground.
M-21 shook his head and straightened up when he saw someone approaching them, two small blue bags in his hand. The man wore the light brown uniform that everyone else on the dock was wearing.
"You're M-21 and M-24?"
At their nod, the man handed them each a bag. Slightly curious but even more wary, M-21 peered into his. Inside was a mobile and a container filled with tiny white pills. Dread started to wind its way up from his stomach to his throat.
"What...?" he began to ask, looking up at the man. Except, he knew what they were for - just not why.
The man shrugged. "You take them when you feel a lot of pain - those pills are the only thing that stops your body from degrading."
M-21's hand tightened reflexively around the bag. Their bodies were degrading? And the mobiles… That was obvious.
They were not allowed to leave the Union unchecked, and if they tried to run, they would die, one way or another.
Shit.
He should have known it couldn't have been that simple.
* * *
"You okay?" M-24 asked him as the train lurched to a start. M-21 kept his arms crossed over his chest, gazing at the moving scenery. The carriage was completely empty save for them so they could talk freely.
"I'm…better," he admitted slowly. His stomach had settled somewhat, but he hadn't attempted to eat anything yet, in case he brought it up again. When he'd burned the folder, the smell of the flames and ash had given him something else to focus on, the flickering light something else to watch. The scent still clung to him, and the times when he felt close to throwing up again, he focused on that.
M-24 made a noncommittal sound, shifting his weight.
Knowing his unease, but not knowing how to alleviate it, M-21 began to tell him the details of their assignment.
* * *
"A-ah..."
M-21 narrowed his eyes at the kid in front of them. He had blond hair and slitted gold eyes (Was he another experiment? He seemed too young and M-21 found it unlikely that the Union would send more people than they needed to, or make a mistake and send multiple people for the same task.) that couldn't keep eye contact very well.
Dammit, they weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves and not two minutes from the train station they'd seen the brat staring at them.
"Um... Are you two ayakashi?" the boy asked hesitantly, his gaze flicking between both of them.
Code names? Or did M-21 just not understand because he only had a basic knowledge of Japanese? He'd paid attention to their lessons, but he was sure that word had never come up.
They hadn't been told that they would be met by anyone, so it had to be a word he didn't know.
"No," M-21 said stiffly, taking too long to remember the right word.
A panicked look flashed across the boy's face. "Oh! Uh, I'm really sorry!" The boy hurriedly bowed and then left.
The cat that had been walking alongside the boy stared at them for a few seconds before sniffing and waddling off.
Huh. M-21 shared a look with M-24. No-one had ever reacted to them like that before. But, they definitely had to make sure they had a better grasp of the local language before they went that country.
* * *
M-21's insides burned, gnawing on themselves, twisting into knots. He could feel every muscle spasm, the fever rising in him, the sweat trickling down his skin. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe, every gasp fought for and grabbed with everything he had. With trembling fingers, his body rebelling with every movement, M-21 fumbled with the pill container - and dropped it. Shit. Even though the container was right next to his hand, he wouldn't be able reach it. The bed dipped as M-24 sat down next to him and picked up the container. M-21 could only watch M-24's hand tap out a few pills and then gently put them in M-21's mouth. This close, M-21 could see M-24's hand shaking from the pain's aftereffects.
He gagged at the taste, almost couldn't force his throat to swallow and with every second that passed, the pain swelled, making everything even harder.
He was finally able to get one down and apparently the pill worked fast enough that it allowed him to swallow the rest of the pills in his mouth.
M-21 let out a slow breath as he felt the effects of the pills instantaneously, the pain fading quickly, though not at the same speed as it came. His body wouldn't stop shivering though.
"Thanks," he muttered as soon as he had enough control to do so.
M-24 didn't respond - there wasn't any need to; they both knew he would do the same for M-24.
But, shit. There was no way they could endure the pain without the pills, and if they didn't take the pills…
Even though it seemed like they were free to the people outside, they were still soundly chained to the Union, controlled effortlessly.
* * *
"How are you feeling?"
Even there was a countless amount of distance between them, M-21 still flinched at Doctor Crombell's voice and straightened his back, expecting to feel his eyes on him, assessing him.
"I'm…all right," M-21 hedged, staring at his hand. The tremors were still there, and his skin still sensitive, all his clothing feeling rough. M-24 was standing close enough to hear both sides of the conversation, and his eyes were worried.
"Good. Make sure you don't lose the pills - you will only be given a set amount every month." Doctor Crombell hung up.
* * *
M-21 swore under his breath as he leapt out of the way of the...whatever-it-was's claws, its yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. He heard M-24 grunt behind him and there was a puff of air as another one of those things dissipated, the heart that appeared in its place shining for a few seconds before it faded.
They had no idea where the hell the things had come from, only that they appeared out of nowhere, oozing out of the shadows to attack them.
M-21 couldn't think they were experiments by the scientists (he had assumed all their experiments were humanoids) but what did he know? He'd only really seen the M-series and if they were 'M', what had been done in the previous letters?
But he was thinking too much, his mind scrabbling for some sort of sense in the situation, when he should be fighting - he could think it over once they were safe.
There were two distinctive types: the smaller, mostly humanoid ones (except for the jagged antennae), completely black apart from their glowing yellow eyes; the other type was bigger, bulkier, and they didn't seem to have the ability to merge into the shadows either. They also had claws that were longer than M-21's hand (with an even bigger one on each foot), and were able to leap higher than M-24 - and that was without putting their leathery wings on their back to use. Their overall shape reminded M-21 of one of those 'dinosaurs' he and M-24 had seen in a museum they were stealing from, except it was covered in black and red fur.
There was a warning snarl, one of the larger ones baring its teeth at him for a second before it charged. Too breathless to even swear, M-21 jumped out of the way, letting M-24 smack it across the alley with a fist, where it burst into a heart as soon as it crashed into the wall.
They had no weapons but M-24 at least had his strength - M-21 only had his speed, which meant he was completely useless except for drawing the monsters close to them.
M-21 and M-24 were surrounded with no way to escape - not only could they not run, but M-21 had seen some of the smaller monsters emerge from the walls above them. M-24 was steadily making his way through them, but it wasn't fast enough, the monsters getting bolder.
How long had they been fighting? M-21 had no idea. Sweat freely dripped off him, his heart beating hard and fast, his breath coming in short gasps. His body trembled with exertion but if he lost focus for even a second-!
M-21 kicked out at one of the smaller monsters as it slid towards him, but it wasn't enough to kill it.
But shit he missed the larger one coming in on his right. He scrambled back, almost tripping over his feet, but it wasn't enough - the monster slashed him across the chest and M-21 hissed, already feeling blood ooze out of the gashes.
"M-21!"
The monster disappeared from view as another one whizzed past M-21 and slammed into it. But if M-24 had thrown it-
M-21 whirled around to see M-24 facing him, breathing heavily - he'd exposed his back for him and M-21 could only watch as one of the larger monsters crouched and sprang towards M-24's back.
No. No, he wasn't going to watch M-24 die in front of him!
Drawing on every little reserve he had left, M-21 tore forward, not thinking if he wasn't fast enough, not thinking if he couldn't make it, not thinking if M-24 died.
Three steps away from M-24, M-21's heart started beating wildly like it was trying to burst through his chest.
It couldn't - no, why was his body degrading now?
He had to help M-24! Pain exploded in M-21's chest and he choked, stumbling, his fingers itching for a few heartbeats.
It stopped as soon as it started and M-21 didn't dare question the good luck because the monster's claws were a scant breath away from M-24 and -
And then they weren't, M-21's claws tearing a chunk through its legs and sending it skittering away.
M-24 stared at him with surprised eyes but now wasn't the time to be distracted! They would think about this later!
M-24 nodded sharply and manoeuvred himself to cover M-21's back. Reassured, M-21 focused on the monsters in front of him, glad he wasn't so useless now.
They fell into a routine of defending and attacking, always making sure the other was still there. There were times when the monsters were able to get too close though, and by the time the last one died, M-21 and M-24 were both bleeding heavily from various wounds.
The adrenaline still coursing through his body, M-21 double-checked if there were any tell-tale moving shadows or glowing eyes but there wasn't any. Grimacing, M-21 put a hand to his chest and then flinched when his claws pricked him, slicing through what was left of his shirt like it was wet paper. M-21 dragged his feet over to where M-24, who was swaying on his feet, listening for anyone approaching (hadn't the noise attracted someone?). He did not think about when his fingers itched again and when he looked down at his hands, they were back to normal.
M-24 sent him a tired smile. "Should we include them in our report?" he asked, trying to sound mild and aloof.
M-21 frowned, trying to rein in his thoughts that weren't screaming 'react!' and 'danger!'. They had been attacked, yes, but it didn't seem like it was because they were part of the Union. No-one had tried to warn them off or sent them any messages, but then... He and M-24 could have just been used to test the strength of the monsters - and they would have been his change. Suddenly a lot more paranoid, M-21 scanned their surroundings again, this time looking for people or some sort of recording devices.
He couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
"We're leaving," he said quietly, wanting to get away before something else came up, before something else happened.
M-24 eyed their surroundings as well as they left as quietly as their hurt bodies would allow them.
* * *
M-21 all but flopped onto his make-shift bed, only slightly caring that he'd aggravated his wounds doing that (they'd begun to heal anyway). M-24 eased himself slowly onto his own bed with a groan.
No-one had followed them to their hideout; they'd taken a convoluted route to make sure.
They stayed there in silence, waiting for something to happen, for the door to be kicked down, for the shadows to start convulsing again. When nothing did, they finally relaxed, sighing. M-21 covered his eyes with an arm before he realised what he was doing.
Hesitantly, he brought his arm away but kept his hand close to his face, staring at it. It was the same as it usually was - his nails were blunt, skin-coloured. There wasn't anything there to indicate they had been sharp enough to slice through flesh easily or black just a short while ago. No scars, no redness, no tightening of the skin. It was just…normal.
What had happened? Why had his hand changed? As far as the scientists had told him, he was only slightly stronger and a lost faster than a non-modified human, and that his regeneration was a lot better than theirs as well. They hadn't said anything about his body changing, and there hadn't been any tests to see if he could. Which meant…
"They didn't know," he murmured, breathless.
M-24 made a sound of acknowledgement. "And if they found out…"
M-21 winced. He would become interesting to them once more, and they would put him through a battery of tests all over again, keep an eye on him in case of any more developments. That, he didn't want; not when he'd finally gotten used to going out when he wanted to, seeing an open sky above him, feeling the sun on his skin. It wasn't quite freedom, but it was certainly better than being kept in the labs.
"They…shouldn't," M-21 said uncertainly. Only the scientists at the institute they'd come from would know if his DNA had changed (had it? Or was it something that had always been there?) and they were, as far as M-21 knew, still across the sea.
They were silent for a few minutes, the sound of their breathing and the building creaking around them the only sounds in the room.
"Hey," M-24 started softly, "do you think we should check?"
M-21 whirled around to face him, gaping. "You think we should-?" If things went wrong, it would bring attention to him!
"There's an institute close by-" They knew exactly where it was, so they knew exactly where to avoid. "-and we were given a username and password a little while ago, weren't we?"
"Yeah." So they wouldn't ask questions when they could get the answer themselves.
"And if we know what the Union knows about that then…"
They would know just how hard they had to hide it from the scientists.
"All right." M-21 hefted himself up again, feeling the protest of his muscles and injuries. If they went now, there would be less people around to ask questions, less people whose attention were on them.
* * *
M-21's wounds twinged under his new shirt (he only had one spare left - he should buy more if they were able to get out), but at least they'd stopped bleeding. The room had a few other scientists on the other side, clustered around two computers, but M-21 and M-24 hadn't garnered any second looks. Just in case, he and M-24 had taken the computers furthest away from them, but also closest to the windows.
M-21 hated it there. The building stank of sweat and chemicals, of fear and death. He'd been used to it before -he'd known nothing else- but now it was suffocating, almost worse than the attention of the scientists. Almost.
Slowly, M-21 typed in his username and password, and then waited, his heart beating furiously as the computer whirred. Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds (had he done something wrong? Was he going to be asked what he wanted to find out?) but then everything cleared, icons popping up and the bar appearing at the bottom.
Trying to not show too much relief, M-21 slowly went through the instructions they'd been given on how to search the database, trying to navigate with the gaps of his knowledge in the language, M-24 helping when he got stuck.
Finally, the curser blinked there slowly, waiting for his input about what he wanted to search.
M-21 stared at it, not sure what he should type. If he searched for his change straight away and they were being monitored… He would try to find the monsters first - they could explain the reason for that easily.
He sent M-24 a helpless look, who stared at the screen, frowning. "Physical qualities?"
M-21 nodded and typed in 'black body, yellow eyes' and then added in, 'move in shadows' since there had been two types. Maybe they were two completely different kinds of monsters.
A list of files popped up instantly, and M-21 waited for the scrollbar to stop moving before he started looking at the folders properly. All the files had pictures down the side, so they was able to dismiss the top ones straight away; it was the fifth one down that they saw a series of drawings involving the smaller monster: in the first drawing, a human had fallen over and was scrambling away from one of the smaller monsters; in the second, the monster was on top of the man's chest; and in the third, it was the man that had exploded into a heart.
That…hadn't been what they'd seen. But they hadn't allowed the -M-21 scrolled back to the top- 'heartless' close to them for long, so maybe that was why.
He started reading the file, but it didn't make that much sense to him - and it wasn't just because of the language barrier. The 'heartless' were called that because they didn't have hearts, and that made them crave other people's hearts. But how did they live without hearts, and if what he and M-24 had seen were the hearts that those heartless had eaten… Those weren't the physical hearts that people had.
It was starting to make M-21's head hurt. But if the heartless eating some sort of…essence was strange, then what was his changes? That wasn't normal either.
He skimmed the rest of the file for anything useful, but there were only vague theories of where the heartless had come from so M-21 closed the window.
The search bar popped up again instantly, and M-21 stared at it, hesitant.
Nothing had happened when he'd searched for the heartless, and now that he thought about it, if someone checked what they were looking for every single time, it would defeat the purpose of why they'd been given the login details in the first place.
And…if anyone asked, they could say that it was the heartless that had changed.
M-24 hummed and M-21 nodded before he started typing again. The scientists hadn't moved away from their computers and no-one else had entered the room. Good.
But what would he search for? 'Changes' was too generic, but 'physical changes' would probably help to narrow it down, if the Union had any information on it.
The first folder was named 'Drugs-Assisted Transformation' which obviously wasn't the case with him, so M-21 skipped over it, keeping the terminology in mind, in case he had to refine his search.
The next folder ('Will-Directed Transformation') sounded more promising so M-21 opened it. There were a lot of folders within it, dated from as recently as the day before. The older folders probably wouldn't be as useful, their data found to be obsolete, amounting to nothing, and really, M-21 just wanted to find out if he would be able to hide it and how excited the scientists would be if they found out if he could transform.
From what M-21 had already read, they would be very excited. Not that M-21 could hear the inflection the scientist had intended, but he got the impression of eagerness in the results, the way the sentences had been constructed, how certain words and phrases were repeated. The typos that kept cropping up. M-21 was fairly sure they were typos - some of the words only had two letters switched around and those words were used in the same way as the 'correctly-spelled' words.
'Unexpectedly developed transformation.'
'Marked increase in abilities.'
'I haev never seen this kind of result before.'
'Further study is needed.'
Beside the phrases that had jumped out to M-21 was a picture of a purple hand, pink spikes jutting out from the knuckles.
Ice shot through M-21's veins and his stomach churned. His transformation was rare and at least one scientist would be very interested in him if they ever found out (and one was far too many).
M-24 shifted in his seat, telling him more scientists had just entered the room. M-21 had read enough anyway; he closed the window and logged out. Not looking in the direction of the other people in the room, he and M-24 slipped out the building.
* * *
The sky had begun to lighten when M-21 and M-24 made it outside and M-21 breathed in the scent of - dirt and car fumes, but it was by far better than what he'd been smelling inside.
As soon as they were far enough away, M-24 asked quietly, "What will we do?"
There wasn't much they could do. They could try to hide it, but if the scientists wanted to check up on them, they couldn't refuse. But, it had been at least a couple of months since any scientists had even been in contact with them, let alone wanted to see them again. The cynical side of M-21 wasn't surprised - why would they want to see how he and M-24 were doing, other than checking if they were still alive?
"Nothing," M-21 muttered, wanting to just close his eyes and sleep. Even though he had been fighting hard a few hours before, he felt more exhausted and wrung out after being at the institute.
"They won't ask to see us, and if we carry on completing our missions, they won't bother us." And to make sure he and M-24 completed their missions, M-21 thought as he stared down at his hand, he should practice his transformation.
* * *
If his transformation was 'will-directed', then M-21 didn't need anything else to transform but…how had he done it the first time? He'd wanted to protect M-24, he'd tried to push his body as far as it could go to do it, he'd wanted anything that he could use to help.
M-21 brought his hand close to his face, trying to push the black claws out of where his nails were with his thoughts.
Nothing happened.
Gently, M-21 poked his nails, just in case they had changed, but not in appearance. They felt like they normally did: blunt and smooth (though he didn't know if the top of the claws felt any different).
"Do you want to try sparring?" M-24 suggested from the other bed.
Huh. He had been fighting when it happened, so that would be the best conditions to try it again. M-21 wrinkled his nose when he realised he'd been thinking like the scientists. Ugh.
He got off his bed, M-24 following him a second later. Their hideout had enough open space that they wouldn't have to worry about tripping over anything.
They stood opposite from each other, preparing themselves for the fight, and after they nodded to show they were ready, M-21 dashed forward first, his fist raised. That was how their spars always started, and M-21 had a brief second of doubt, wondering if this was the best way to…activate his transformation - here he was fighting against M-24, not trying to protect him and -
He'd reached M-24 and M-21's fist smacked into M-24's forearm - he ducked M-24's swipe and lashed out with a foot ('Stupid-! We're trying to get my nails to transform!'). M-24 stepped back to dodge and then came bearing down him again.
M-21 twisted out the way, his lips pursed. He was too used to fighting with M-24; he needed to focus on only attacking with his hands. That, and he shouldn't have his hands curled into fists - if he did transform while his hands were like that, the claws would rip right through them.
Slowly, M-21 uncurled his hands, straightening them out, flexing them for a few seconds and then looked up at M-24, who was still waiting where he stood. M-21 gave him another nod, signalling the fight to resume. M-21 had barely finished his nod before M-24 ran towards him.
He twisted out the way (he knew to never attempt to take any of M-24's blows on purpose) but he still didn't know what he was supposed to do. They continued on like that, M-24 chasing him around the room and M-21 grew more and more frustrated at himself. He already knew how to dodge and didn't need more practice with it!
It wasn't that M-24 interrupted his thoughts, but M-21 didn't even know what kind of direction his thoughts were supposed to take! Maybe he should have spent more time reading the files...
He couldn't do anything about it now so M-21 shook his head and started working with what he did know. It was will-directed so he had to want it happen.
He noticed a small opening in M-24's stance and he aimed for that, his fingers straight and stiff, wanting the claws to come out, trying to imagine them already there at the end of his fingers.
And just before he reached M-24, they were, standing out starkly against his skin.
M-24 knocked his hand away, and he eyed the claws for a second before he grinned at M-21. M-21 grinned back at him, feeling relieved and put more effort into fighting M-24.
It was...different from their usual fights. M-24 had to be more wary for the claws, giving M-21 more space than he was used to and he wasn't usually the one putting the pressure on either.
He did feel faster than usual as well, but it wasn't by much.
A few minutes later, they were both gasping, still grinning at each other, sweating profusely. M-21 was bruised in several places when he'd overreached, and M-24 sported a few shallow cuts from when he hadn't been able to get out of the way fast enough, but neither of them cared.
It had gone a lot better than M-21 had expected. With a sigh, they both moved towards the door - it had been a while since they'd eaten. M-21 put a hand over a particularly nasty bruise he could already feel - and realised too late that he still had his claws out when he shredded his shirt.
…Shit.
* * *
M-21 made sure his hands were firmly in his pockets as he looked at the clothes on the shelf in case he destroyed his last shirt. The tinny music that played overhead grated on his nerves, but it was ignorable.
He picked up two packets of shirts and walked over to where M-24 was, in the jacket section.
When M-21 neared him, M-24 glanced away from the black jacket in his hand and shrugged slightly. "It helped them to hide," M-24 explained.
That was true, M-21 mused, picking up another one - it felt too heavy and it looked like it would hinder his movement. If it hadn't been for the heartless' eyes, the fight would have been so much harder.
He spotted another kind of jacket and went over to it. He held one up, running his eyes over it. It was light, flexible, and it was longer than the previous jacket. M-21 turned to M-24, who nodded.
If the jacket could help them meld into the shadows at night, then a trench coat would be even better, right?
* * *
"Urk!"
M-21 whirled around in time to see M-24 stumble into the wall of their current hideout. "M-24!"
By the time M-21 reached his side, M-24 was already trembling. Recognising the signs instantly, M-21 tore open his own pills container and gave M-24 some. Dammit, they'd been so busy they hadn't kept track of the days again!
It didn't take long for the tremors to stop and as soon as he was able, M-24 sent M-21 a curious look.
"You don't need the pills?"
Confusion swirled in M-21 and he stared at M-24. They were always affected by their degrading bodies at the same time; what did -
M-21 hissed as pain slammed in him like one of M-24's punches. He still had a few pills left in his hand and he threw them into his mouth, swallowing them all in one gulp.
He sighed, closing his eyes as the pain receded, sagging against the wall beside M-24.
It meant nothing; his body was still degrading.
* * *
"Right then, Ponds," a man announced behind M-21 and M-24 as they studied the building in front of them, taking note of the security, how competent it seemed to be. "Welcome to…ah…"
"That's funny," a woman remarked after a pause. "You said we were going to a beach with two suns, and I'm hearing Scottish accents."
"Well, hmm, I may have gotten the co-ordinates wrong."
"Yeah, just slightly," the woman said dryly.
"Um, Doctor…?" a second man said quietly and M-21 and M-24 froze, not breathing. Shit, they had to get away.
"Those two…" the man continued. "They're both wearing trench coats."
And they'd already drawn their attention! They had to get out of their sight before he and M-24 became interesting to them.
"So?" the woman scoffed.
"Rory," the Doctor said, a patient tone in his voice, "lots of people wear trench coats."
"Not now they do!"
"I did," the Doctor said, affronted.
There was a snort. "Yeah? And how many years ago was that?"
"Hey!"
While they were distracted, M-21 and M-24 snuck away. They weren't followed.
* * *
M-21 glared darkly at the bobbing ship in front of him, his stomach already feeling queasy just looking at it. Crossing his arms, M-21 turned away from the sight, keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to get closer. Nothing moved so all he could do was wait for M-24 to finish questioning the sailor.
The wind carried M-24's scent to M-21 before he heard his soft tread. He glanced up at from the corner of his eyes; M-24 was frowning, wiping a drop of blood away from his mouth with a thumb.
"It happened again," M-24 murmured as they left, barely audible over the waves.
M-21's eyebrows raised slightly. Huh. They'd found out a while ago that M-24 seemed to have an…instinct to drink someone's blood when he wanted information from them - and he did get it from them, from their blood. They hadn't been able to look at the Union's database about it yet; they had either been too busy, too far away, one or both of them had been injured, or a multitude of other reasons.
He hummed, throwing a look over his shoulder at the boat. If someone found the dead body… And he didn't smell fire or ash. "What did you do with it?"
"Made it look like a robbery - took some money and valuables, slashed his throat to cover the bite marks."
Well, that would probably be enough - M-21 doubted whoever found the body would be looking at how much blood should have been lost.
* * *
M-24 suddenly breathed in sharply, his head twisting to the right, his eyes wide. He and M-21 were currently hiding in the shadows of a park, waiting for the exchange to happen - the Union wanted whatever was in their briefcase and no witnesses.
He hadn't been loud enough for the groups to hear him, and M-21 leaned back slightly, keeping the groups in sight.
"I…" M-24 raised a hand to rest it on his forehead. "I can feel something in my mind, like…" M-24's breathing stilled. "It's him," he said quietly. "The sailor."
M-21 jerked around to stare at him. What? There was no way M-24 would have failed in killing him and that didn't explain why they were now…connected.
And dammit now the exchange was happening - he and M-24 had to act fast while their attentions were on each other; they would find out what it all meant later.
* * *
M-21 eyed the door, half expecting to see a group of scientists walk in, but it didn't happen so he turned back around to see what M-24 was reading. There was no-one else in the computer room, the institute being the quietest one M-21 and M-24 had been in so far. In some ways, that put them even more on edge, because that made them stand out, the security knowing as soon as they saw them that they were strangers.
On the screen was a long list of folders and files and even after M-24 had narrowed down the search, there were still numerous different folders that they could look into. M-24's abilities weren't quite the 'Mind Reading' that had been described in that folder, or 'Plasma-Control', whatever that was, so he had started to look in 'drinking blood' and see where that took him.
"Huh."
M-21 read what was on the screen: 'Vampires a.k.a Noblesse'. Hm. M-21 didn't know that much about them so he skimmed the page, stumbling over some of the terminology. They drank blood, could read minds, control them as well, and were said to live very long lives. That was the closest result they'd gotten to M-24's abilities so far; the 'living long lives' obviously didn't apply to M-24. So, the scientists had given M-24 something of a noblesse?
M-24 closed the window and M-21 checked to see if anyone had come in while he was distracted - the room was still empty, only the hum of the computers and the lights breaking the silence.
When M-24 started typing again, M-21 froze when he saw what it was:
'M-series experiments'.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, his heart racing. They couldn't justify searching for themselves, and the scientists would want to know why they were!
"We said we'd look for their names and ours, did we?" M-24 said as the loading bar moved along the screen.
They had; this was their first chance to look after making that resolution. Breathing out slowly, his heart not slowing down, M-21 focused back on the door, listening for any approaching footsteps.
He looked back when the mouse creaked, threatening to crumple in M-24's hand.
'You do not have the authorisation to read these files.'
…What exactly had been done to them?
* * *
"Stop."
M-21 gritted his teeth, pushing his body past the reflex to do exactly what M-24 told him to do. He stumbled for a second but gained momentum again after two steps. He jabbed his hand towards M-24-
"Go left."
Dammit! M-21 swore as he nearly tripped over his feet and he glared at M-24, who was hiding a smile. Their spars were back to being uneven again.
* * *
M-24 sighed as the pills took effect, staring up at the ceiling - it was yellow (though it looked like it might have been white years ago), thick cracks going from one corner of the room to the other. "I need to re-stock on the pills."
M-21 twisted around to gape at him, his eyes going wide.
M-24 noticed straight away, and sent him a curious look. "What's wrong?"
His mouth opening and closing, M-21 reached into his pocket and pulled out his own pills container. It was unopened, the seal still in place. When had - how hadn't they noticed he'd never needed to take any more pills?
"I'm…" M-21 started shakily, "I don't need them anymore?" If he didn't need them anymore, he didn't have to return to the institutes either - he could lose his mobile and since he was a low level agent…
But that would mean…
"Why are you still standing here?" M-24 growled. "You can get away now."
"I'm not leaving you," M-21 snapped, shaking his head. How could he do that to his last comrade? "I don't need the pills anymore; you'll be the same too soon. And we're searching for our comrades's names together."
M-24 stared at him for a few seconds before sighing, a smile on his lips. "Yeah."
It wouldn't be long before they were both free. M-21 wasn't sure what they would do when it happened, but he couldn't wait for when it did.
* * *
"Hey, wake up."
M-21 blearily blinked up at M-24's face. The sun was only peeking through the window, the sky still dark.
"We have a new mission," M-24 murmured, watching M-21 sit up. "Someone stole a casket from the Union and the last place it was seen was in South Korea."
There was an uncomfortable pause and M-21 eyed M-24, wondering what else there was to the mission.
"We're going by boat."
Oh, great…
_______________________________________________
With cameos from Natsume and Ponta Nyan Nyan Nyangoro Nyanko-sensei/Madara from Natsume Yuujinchou/Natsume's Book of Friends, the heartless (velociraptors are cool :D) from Kingdom Hearts, and Amy, the eleventh Doctor and Rory from Doctor Who. I'd planned to have Yuuko from xxxHolic appear, but when it got to her scene, it didn't make that much sense (She was going to appear to M-21 in a dream in the last scene and ask what his wish was; he was going to say 'his freedom' and she'd then ask him if he would be willing to pay the high price for that, but since M-21 was already technically 'free' by that point I didn't write it.)
Soooo, I like writing dramatic irony; I think you might have noticed that. XDD;;
Yep, my brain's been pretty crossover-starved for the last couple of years.
I love seeing short-hand conversation, but omg do I hate writing them. Doesn't seem like good writing!
Pfffft, the Union's database pages look like Wikipedia.
And now I have some new headcanon: the reason why M-21's body stopped degrading was because he'd activated his werewolf blood. :3
Summary: M-21 and M-24 saw a lot of places when they worked for the Union.
Rating: R
Notes: Contains swearing, descriptions of pain, and murder.
Set pre-canon.
These scenes don't properly follow one another, so there could be gaps of hours/days/weeks/months between a scene, to lessen confusion.
For the prompt, 'Noblesse, M-21 & M-24, around the world'. Thank you darlingfox for prompting it and helping with some of the scenes!
Damn, forgot just how much M-21's changed over the series. Couldn't write them like that!
Hey, lucathia-rykatu, you know when I laughed when I saw your word count for Magical? I am so sorry! ;_______; This fic wouldn't eeeeeeend.
Had So Much fun writing this! Even though it's Damn Long. XD;;
Watch out for the genre shifts. ;D
Genre: Friendship.
Word count: 7,532
Status: Complete
Doctor Crombell steepled his fingertips above his desk as he ran his eyes up and down M-21 and M-24. They stayed silent, waiting for when he finished his assessment of them.
"Your bodies can no longer handle being experimented on," he informed them mildly.
M-21 knew that, had known that once the scientists stopped coming to see them several days ago. Had they been a success, or were they about to be discarded?
A folder was slid across the desk to them. After checking Doctor Crombell's expression (patient, waiting), M-21 picked it up with cautious fingers. There were several papers in it, some of them maps, others detailed information about…
"Make yourself useful; don't draw attention to youselves."
M-21 flinched at his lapse; you did not get distracted when Doctor Crombell was in the room - or any of the scientists.
"Yes, sir."
Doctor Crombell turned back to his computer, signalling the end of the discussion.
M-21 and M-24 left the room as silently as they could.
* * *
They left straight away; they had no clothes to pack, no items to bring - there was an envelope of money enclosed with the folder, so when they did need something, they would use that.
M-21 flicked through a few pages as they walked, just to see if they would be transported to their destination, or if they were expected to make their own way there. Hm. They would be driven to the docks, and from there they would take a ship. Once they got off, that was when they would be left to their own devices.
M-21 stared at those words, a faint hope stirring in him. They would be free, no-one watching their every move, taking notes? That…M-21 couldn't believe they were allowed to leave the institute without some way of tracking them. Unless it was in the folder…?
Unsettled, M-21 closed it and continued on to the exit, M-24's footsteps a comforting presence beside him. They knew where it was, if only because that had been the one area they'd been explicitly told to not go to (the rest of the time they were told to go to a specific room and it was expected that they would obey without any delays or distractions).
When M-21 saw the door, its clear glass letting bright sunlight stream into the corridor, flanked by armed guards, his heart began to race, his stomach twisting in anticipation and dread. What if this was just another test? What if they weren't going to be allowed out? If they were shot in the back as they left? But that was too much subterfuge - if Doctor Crombell wanted them dead, they would have died in the lab, Doctor Crombell's face the last thing they saw, like he had done with so many of their comrades.
The guards didn't so much as twitch as they walked past, but M-21 could feel their eyes on him and that made him even tenser.
The door swished open and M-21 was hit with the scent of green, unidentifiable fresh smells that didn't hold the stink of fear or sweat, but he did identify pollen, like the flower Doctor Lysen had taken to wearing for a few weeks.
M-21's heart started to beat wildly as they crossed the threshold, feeling the sun's warmth as soon as it touched him and he winced once he stepped fully into the sunlight, feeling it sear the back of his eyeballs. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but the world seemed far too bright after being used to the artificial lights of the labs.
There was a black car waiting in front of them, a woman in a black suit standing by its front door. M-21 could see the tell-tale bulge of a gun holster under her clothing and he started to wonder again if they were going to be taken somewhere and killed. As they neared her, the woman inclined her head.
"M-21 and M-24?" Her voice held no inflection, no question - detached, like the scientists.
He nodded.
"Get in."
They moved to follow her orders.
* * *
M-21 and M-24 didn't talk as they were driven to the docks. Talking while other people were in the room garnered too much attention, knowing smirks thrown in their direction. Instead, M-21 watched the tall buildings as they passed, taking in the clothing people wore, the preoccupied faces, the groups. There were a few times when the car had stopped that people outside paid attention to him - particularly to his hair and scar. After the third time M-21 caught someone staring at him, M-21 turned his attention to the car's interior. There wasn't much to look at: a few bottles of water, used cigarette butts, a pad of paper.
He couldn't ask how long it would take to arrive to their destination so he stayed quiet and began to read the contents of the folder.
* * *
Some time later, after M-21 had memorised the details of their assignment, the car neared the docks and M-21 watched as the ships grew larger and larger with each passing second.
They stopped next to one of the smaller ones, less colourful than the others, but still looking sturdy. Not that M-21 knew what a well-made ship looked like, but it didn't look like it would fall apart if it was given a hard knock, at least.
The woman didn't get out with M-21 and M-24, but M-21 didn't expect her to. He could hear the waves lapping at the ship's side, the grating caw of the birds that wheeled overhead, the shouts of the sailors. The salt in the air was thick, tickling M-21's nose. It wasn't enough to make him sneeze but it was definitely something he hoped he would get used to quickly.
He heard the car pull away as soon as they started to board the ship. M-21 could feel the ship shift under him and he frowned as he used the rope to steady himself. When he looked behind him, he could see M-24 was having the same problems as him. So long as the ship didn't move too much while they were on it, he should be all right.
* * *
Half-an-hour later, M-21 found himself throwing up over the side of the ship.
* * *
M-21 spent an absolute miserable amount of time hanging over the edge of the ship, watching the waves move restlessly under him. Nothing helped him feel better and he eventually resigned himself to staying there for the entire trip. In some ways, he thought morbidly, it wasn't much different to what had been done to him on a regular basis by the scientists: he would be given something that his body would react to, he would get used to it (or he didn't), and then he would be given something else that made his body react in a completely different way. This time, it was the environment that was making his body react, and like normal, there wasn't anything he could do to escape from it but to wait it out, hoping it wouldn't get worse.
M-24 hadn't left his side the entire time they'd been at sea, and his presence did make M-21 feel better, even if his stomach felt like shit from heaving so often.
They only had a few more hours to go until they could get off the ship; he just had to survive until then.
* * *
The ground felt like it was moving under M-21, even when he knew and could see it wasn't. He glowered darkly at the ship behind him but moved to let M-24 onto solid ground.
M-21 shook his head and straightened up when he saw someone approaching them, two small blue bags in his hand. The man wore the light brown uniform that everyone else on the dock was wearing.
"You're M-21 and M-24?"
At their nod, the man handed them each a bag. Slightly curious but even more wary, M-21 peered into his. Inside was a mobile and a container filled with tiny white pills. Dread started to wind its way up from his stomach to his throat.
"What...?" he began to ask, looking up at the man. Except, he knew what they were for - just not why.
The man shrugged. "You take them when you feel a lot of pain - those pills are the only thing that stops your body from degrading."
M-21's hand tightened reflexively around the bag. Their bodies were degrading? And the mobiles… That was obvious.
They were not allowed to leave the Union unchecked, and if they tried to run, they would die, one way or another.
Shit.
He should have known it couldn't have been that simple.
* * *
"You okay?" M-24 asked him as the train lurched to a start. M-21 kept his arms crossed over his chest, gazing at the moving scenery. The carriage was completely empty save for them so they could talk freely.
"I'm…better," he admitted slowly. His stomach had settled somewhat, but he hadn't attempted to eat anything yet, in case he brought it up again. When he'd burned the folder, the smell of the flames and ash had given him something else to focus on, the flickering light something else to watch. The scent still clung to him, and the times when he felt close to throwing up again, he focused on that.
M-24 made a noncommittal sound, shifting his weight.
Knowing his unease, but not knowing how to alleviate it, M-21 began to tell him the details of their assignment.
* * *
"A-ah..."
M-21 narrowed his eyes at the kid in front of them. He had blond hair and slitted gold eyes (Was he another experiment? He seemed too young and M-21 found it unlikely that the Union would send more people than they needed to, or make a mistake and send multiple people for the same task.) that couldn't keep eye contact very well.
Dammit, they weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves and not two minutes from the train station they'd seen the brat staring at them.
"Um... Are you two ayakashi?" the boy asked hesitantly, his gaze flicking between both of them.
Code names? Or did M-21 just not understand because he only had a basic knowledge of Japanese? He'd paid attention to their lessons, but he was sure that word had never come up.
They hadn't been told that they would be met by anyone, so it had to be a word he didn't know.
"No," M-21 said stiffly, taking too long to remember the right word.
A panicked look flashed across the boy's face. "Oh! Uh, I'm really sorry!" The boy hurriedly bowed and then left.
The cat that had been walking alongside the boy stared at them for a few seconds before sniffing and waddling off.
Huh. M-21 shared a look with M-24. No-one had ever reacted to them like that before. But, they definitely had to make sure they had a better grasp of the local language before they went that country.
* * *
M-21's insides burned, gnawing on themselves, twisting into knots. He could feel every muscle spasm, the fever rising in him, the sweat trickling down his skin. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe, every gasp fought for and grabbed with everything he had. With trembling fingers, his body rebelling with every movement, M-21 fumbled with the pill container - and dropped it. Shit. Even though the container was right next to his hand, he wouldn't be able reach it. The bed dipped as M-24 sat down next to him and picked up the container. M-21 could only watch M-24's hand tap out a few pills and then gently put them in M-21's mouth. This close, M-21 could see M-24's hand shaking from the pain's aftereffects.
He gagged at the taste, almost couldn't force his throat to swallow and with every second that passed, the pain swelled, making everything even harder.
He was finally able to get one down and apparently the pill worked fast enough that it allowed him to swallow the rest of the pills in his mouth.
M-21 let out a slow breath as he felt the effects of the pills instantaneously, the pain fading quickly, though not at the same speed as it came. His body wouldn't stop shivering though.
"Thanks," he muttered as soon as he had enough control to do so.
M-24 didn't respond - there wasn't any need to; they both knew he would do the same for M-24.
But, shit. There was no way they could endure the pain without the pills, and if they didn't take the pills…
Even though it seemed like they were free to the people outside, they were still soundly chained to the Union, controlled effortlessly.
* * *
"How are you feeling?"
Even there was a countless amount of distance between them, M-21 still flinched at Doctor Crombell's voice and straightened his back, expecting to feel his eyes on him, assessing him.
"I'm…all right," M-21 hedged, staring at his hand. The tremors were still there, and his skin still sensitive, all his clothing feeling rough. M-24 was standing close enough to hear both sides of the conversation, and his eyes were worried.
"Good. Make sure you don't lose the pills - you will only be given a set amount every month." Doctor Crombell hung up.
* * *
M-21 swore under his breath as he leapt out of the way of the...whatever-it-was's claws, its yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. He heard M-24 grunt behind him and there was a puff of air as another one of those things dissipated, the heart that appeared in its place shining for a few seconds before it faded.
They had no idea where the hell the things had come from, only that they appeared out of nowhere, oozing out of the shadows to attack them.
M-21 couldn't think they were experiments by the scientists (he had assumed all their experiments were humanoids) but what did he know? He'd only really seen the M-series and if they were 'M', what had been done in the previous letters?
But he was thinking too much, his mind scrabbling for some sort of sense in the situation, when he should be fighting - he could think it over once they were safe.
There were two distinctive types: the smaller, mostly humanoid ones (except for the jagged antennae), completely black apart from their glowing yellow eyes; the other type was bigger, bulkier, and they didn't seem to have the ability to merge into the shadows either. They also had claws that were longer than M-21's hand (with an even bigger one on each foot), and were able to leap higher than M-24 - and that was without putting their leathery wings on their back to use. Their overall shape reminded M-21 of one of those 'dinosaurs' he and M-24 had seen in a museum they were stealing from, except it was covered in black and red fur.
There was a warning snarl, one of the larger ones baring its teeth at him for a second before it charged. Too breathless to even swear, M-21 jumped out of the way, letting M-24 smack it across the alley with a fist, where it burst into a heart as soon as it crashed into the wall.
They had no weapons but M-24 at least had his strength - M-21 only had his speed, which meant he was completely useless except for drawing the monsters close to them.
M-21 and M-24 were surrounded with no way to escape - not only could they not run, but M-21 had seen some of the smaller monsters emerge from the walls above them. M-24 was steadily making his way through them, but it wasn't fast enough, the monsters getting bolder.
How long had they been fighting? M-21 had no idea. Sweat freely dripped off him, his heart beating hard and fast, his breath coming in short gasps. His body trembled with exertion but if he lost focus for even a second-!
M-21 kicked out at one of the smaller monsters as it slid towards him, but it wasn't enough to kill it.
But shit he missed the larger one coming in on his right. He scrambled back, almost tripping over his feet, but it wasn't enough - the monster slashed him across the chest and M-21 hissed, already feeling blood ooze out of the gashes.
"M-21!"
The monster disappeared from view as another one whizzed past M-21 and slammed into it. But if M-24 had thrown it-
M-21 whirled around to see M-24 facing him, breathing heavily - he'd exposed his back for him and M-21 could only watch as one of the larger monsters crouched and sprang towards M-24's back.
No. No, he wasn't going to watch M-24 die in front of him!
Drawing on every little reserve he had left, M-21 tore forward, not thinking if he wasn't fast enough, not thinking if he couldn't make it, not thinking if M-24 died.
Three steps away from M-24, M-21's heart started beating wildly like it was trying to burst through his chest.
It couldn't - no, why was his body degrading now?
He had to help M-24! Pain exploded in M-21's chest and he choked, stumbling, his fingers itching for a few heartbeats.
It stopped as soon as it started and M-21 didn't dare question the good luck because the monster's claws were a scant breath away from M-24 and -
And then they weren't, M-21's claws tearing a chunk through its legs and sending it skittering away.
M-24 stared at him with surprised eyes but now wasn't the time to be distracted! They would think about this later!
M-24 nodded sharply and manoeuvred himself to cover M-21's back. Reassured, M-21 focused on the monsters in front of him, glad he wasn't so useless now.
They fell into a routine of defending and attacking, always making sure the other was still there. There were times when the monsters were able to get too close though, and by the time the last one died, M-21 and M-24 were both bleeding heavily from various wounds.
The adrenaline still coursing through his body, M-21 double-checked if there were any tell-tale moving shadows or glowing eyes but there wasn't any. Grimacing, M-21 put a hand to his chest and then flinched when his claws pricked him, slicing through what was left of his shirt like it was wet paper. M-21 dragged his feet over to where M-24, who was swaying on his feet, listening for anyone approaching (hadn't the noise attracted someone?). He did not think about when his fingers itched again and when he looked down at his hands, they were back to normal.
M-24 sent him a tired smile. "Should we include them in our report?" he asked, trying to sound mild and aloof.
M-21 frowned, trying to rein in his thoughts that weren't screaming 'react!' and 'danger!'. They had been attacked, yes, but it didn't seem like it was because they were part of the Union. No-one had tried to warn them off or sent them any messages, but then... He and M-24 could have just been used to test the strength of the monsters - and they would have been his change. Suddenly a lot more paranoid, M-21 scanned their surroundings again, this time looking for people or some sort of recording devices.
He couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
"We're leaving," he said quietly, wanting to get away before something else came up, before something else happened.
M-24 eyed their surroundings as well as they left as quietly as their hurt bodies would allow them.
* * *
M-21 all but flopped onto his make-shift bed, only slightly caring that he'd aggravated his wounds doing that (they'd begun to heal anyway). M-24 eased himself slowly onto his own bed with a groan.
No-one had followed them to their hideout; they'd taken a convoluted route to make sure.
They stayed there in silence, waiting for something to happen, for the door to be kicked down, for the shadows to start convulsing again. When nothing did, they finally relaxed, sighing. M-21 covered his eyes with an arm before he realised what he was doing.
Hesitantly, he brought his arm away but kept his hand close to his face, staring at it. It was the same as it usually was - his nails were blunt, skin-coloured. There wasn't anything there to indicate they had been sharp enough to slice through flesh easily or black just a short while ago. No scars, no redness, no tightening of the skin. It was just…normal.
What had happened? Why had his hand changed? As far as the scientists had told him, he was only slightly stronger and a lost faster than a non-modified human, and that his regeneration was a lot better than theirs as well. They hadn't said anything about his body changing, and there hadn't been any tests to see if he could. Which meant…
"They didn't know," he murmured, breathless.
M-24 made a sound of acknowledgement. "And if they found out…"
M-21 winced. He would become interesting to them once more, and they would put him through a battery of tests all over again, keep an eye on him in case of any more developments. That, he didn't want; not when he'd finally gotten used to going out when he wanted to, seeing an open sky above him, feeling the sun on his skin. It wasn't quite freedom, but it was certainly better than being kept in the labs.
"They…shouldn't," M-21 said uncertainly. Only the scientists at the institute they'd come from would know if his DNA had changed (had it? Or was it something that had always been there?) and they were, as far as M-21 knew, still across the sea.
They were silent for a few minutes, the sound of their breathing and the building creaking around them the only sounds in the room.
"Hey," M-24 started softly, "do you think we should check?"
M-21 whirled around to face him, gaping. "You think we should-?" If things went wrong, it would bring attention to him!
"There's an institute close by-" They knew exactly where it was, so they knew exactly where to avoid. "-and we were given a username and password a little while ago, weren't we?"
"Yeah." So they wouldn't ask questions when they could get the answer themselves.
"And if we know what the Union knows about that then…"
They would know just how hard they had to hide it from the scientists.
"All right." M-21 hefted himself up again, feeling the protest of his muscles and injuries. If they went now, there would be less people around to ask questions, less people whose attention were on them.
* * *
M-21's wounds twinged under his new shirt (he only had one spare left - he should buy more if they were able to get out), but at least they'd stopped bleeding. The room had a few other scientists on the other side, clustered around two computers, but M-21 and M-24 hadn't garnered any second looks. Just in case, he and M-24 had taken the computers furthest away from them, but also closest to the windows.
M-21 hated it there. The building stank of sweat and chemicals, of fear and death. He'd been used to it before -he'd known nothing else- but now it was suffocating, almost worse than the attention of the scientists. Almost.
Slowly, M-21 typed in his username and password, and then waited, his heart beating furiously as the computer whirred. Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds (had he done something wrong? Was he going to be asked what he wanted to find out?) but then everything cleared, icons popping up and the bar appearing at the bottom.
Trying to not show too much relief, M-21 slowly went through the instructions they'd been given on how to search the database, trying to navigate with the gaps of his knowledge in the language, M-24 helping when he got stuck.
Finally, the curser blinked there slowly, waiting for his input about what he wanted to search.
M-21 stared at it, not sure what he should type. If he searched for his change straight away and they were being monitored… He would try to find the monsters first - they could explain the reason for that easily.
He sent M-24 a helpless look, who stared at the screen, frowning. "Physical qualities?"
M-21 nodded and typed in 'black body, yellow eyes' and then added in, 'move in shadows' since there had been two types. Maybe they were two completely different kinds of monsters.
A list of files popped up instantly, and M-21 waited for the scrollbar to stop moving before he started looking at the folders properly. All the files had pictures down the side, so they was able to dismiss the top ones straight away; it was the fifth one down that they saw a series of drawings involving the smaller monster: in the first drawing, a human had fallen over and was scrambling away from one of the smaller monsters; in the second, the monster was on top of the man's chest; and in the third, it was the man that had exploded into a heart.
That…hadn't been what they'd seen. But they hadn't allowed the -M-21 scrolled back to the top- 'heartless' close to them for long, so maybe that was why.
He started reading the file, but it didn't make that much sense to him - and it wasn't just because of the language barrier. The 'heartless' were called that because they didn't have hearts, and that made them crave other people's hearts. But how did they live without hearts, and if what he and M-24 had seen were the hearts that those heartless had eaten… Those weren't the physical hearts that people had.
It was starting to make M-21's head hurt. But if the heartless eating some sort of…essence was strange, then what was his changes? That wasn't normal either.
He skimmed the rest of the file for anything useful, but there were only vague theories of where the heartless had come from so M-21 closed the window.
The search bar popped up again instantly, and M-21 stared at it, hesitant.
Nothing had happened when he'd searched for the heartless, and now that he thought about it, if someone checked what they were looking for every single time, it would defeat the purpose of why they'd been given the login details in the first place.
And…if anyone asked, they could say that it was the heartless that had changed.
M-24 hummed and M-21 nodded before he started typing again. The scientists hadn't moved away from their computers and no-one else had entered the room. Good.
But what would he search for? 'Changes' was too generic, but 'physical changes' would probably help to narrow it down, if the Union had any information on it.
The first folder was named 'Drugs-Assisted Transformation' which obviously wasn't the case with him, so M-21 skipped over it, keeping the terminology in mind, in case he had to refine his search.
The next folder ('Will-Directed Transformation') sounded more promising so M-21 opened it. There were a lot of folders within it, dated from as recently as the day before. The older folders probably wouldn't be as useful, their data found to be obsolete, amounting to nothing, and really, M-21 just wanted to find out if he would be able to hide it and how excited the scientists would be if they found out if he could transform.
From what M-21 had already read, they would be very excited. Not that M-21 could hear the inflection the scientist had intended, but he got the impression of eagerness in the results, the way the sentences had been constructed, how certain words and phrases were repeated. The typos that kept cropping up. M-21 was fairly sure they were typos - some of the words only had two letters switched around and those words were used in the same way as the 'correctly-spelled' words.
'Unexpectedly developed transformation.'
'Marked increase in abilities.'
'I haev never seen this kind of result before.'
'Further study is needed.'
Beside the phrases that had jumped out to M-21 was a picture of a purple hand, pink spikes jutting out from the knuckles.
Ice shot through M-21's veins and his stomach churned. His transformation was rare and at least one scientist would be very interested in him if they ever found out (and one was far too many).
M-24 shifted in his seat, telling him more scientists had just entered the room. M-21 had read enough anyway; he closed the window and logged out. Not looking in the direction of the other people in the room, he and M-24 slipped out the building.
* * *
The sky had begun to lighten when M-21 and M-24 made it outside and M-21 breathed in the scent of - dirt and car fumes, but it was by far better than what he'd been smelling inside.
As soon as they were far enough away, M-24 asked quietly, "What will we do?"
There wasn't much they could do. They could try to hide it, but if the scientists wanted to check up on them, they couldn't refuse. But, it had been at least a couple of months since any scientists had even been in contact with them, let alone wanted to see them again. The cynical side of M-21 wasn't surprised - why would they want to see how he and M-24 were doing, other than checking if they were still alive?
"Nothing," M-21 muttered, wanting to just close his eyes and sleep. Even though he had been fighting hard a few hours before, he felt more exhausted and wrung out after being at the institute.
"They won't ask to see us, and if we carry on completing our missions, they won't bother us." And to make sure he and M-24 completed their missions, M-21 thought as he stared down at his hand, he should practice his transformation.
* * *
If his transformation was 'will-directed', then M-21 didn't need anything else to transform but…how had he done it the first time? He'd wanted to protect M-24, he'd tried to push his body as far as it could go to do it, he'd wanted anything that he could use to help.
M-21 brought his hand close to his face, trying to push the black claws out of where his nails were with his thoughts.
Nothing happened.
Gently, M-21 poked his nails, just in case they had changed, but not in appearance. They felt like they normally did: blunt and smooth (though he didn't know if the top of the claws felt any different).
"Do you want to try sparring?" M-24 suggested from the other bed.
Huh. He had been fighting when it happened, so that would be the best conditions to try it again. M-21 wrinkled his nose when he realised he'd been thinking like the scientists. Ugh.
He got off his bed, M-24 following him a second later. Their hideout had enough open space that they wouldn't have to worry about tripping over anything.
They stood opposite from each other, preparing themselves for the fight, and after they nodded to show they were ready, M-21 dashed forward first, his fist raised. That was how their spars always started, and M-21 had a brief second of doubt, wondering if this was the best way to…activate his transformation - here he was fighting against M-24, not trying to protect him and -
He'd reached M-24 and M-21's fist smacked into M-24's forearm - he ducked M-24's swipe and lashed out with a foot ('Stupid-! We're trying to get my nails to transform!'). M-24 stepped back to dodge and then came bearing down him again.
M-21 twisted out the way, his lips pursed. He was too used to fighting with M-24; he needed to focus on only attacking with his hands. That, and he shouldn't have his hands curled into fists - if he did transform while his hands were like that, the claws would rip right through them.
Slowly, M-21 uncurled his hands, straightening them out, flexing them for a few seconds and then looked up at M-24, who was still waiting where he stood. M-21 gave him another nod, signalling the fight to resume. M-21 had barely finished his nod before M-24 ran towards him.
He twisted out the way (he knew to never attempt to take any of M-24's blows on purpose) but he still didn't know what he was supposed to do. They continued on like that, M-24 chasing him around the room and M-21 grew more and more frustrated at himself. He already knew how to dodge and didn't need more practice with it!
It wasn't that M-24 interrupted his thoughts, but M-21 didn't even know what kind of direction his thoughts were supposed to take! Maybe he should have spent more time reading the files...
He couldn't do anything about it now so M-21 shook his head and started working with what he did know. It was will-directed so he had to want it happen.
He noticed a small opening in M-24's stance and he aimed for that, his fingers straight and stiff, wanting the claws to come out, trying to imagine them already there at the end of his fingers.
And just before he reached M-24, they were, standing out starkly against his skin.
M-24 knocked his hand away, and he eyed the claws for a second before he grinned at M-21. M-21 grinned back at him, feeling relieved and put more effort into fighting M-24.
It was...different from their usual fights. M-24 had to be more wary for the claws, giving M-21 more space than he was used to and he wasn't usually the one putting the pressure on either.
He did feel faster than usual as well, but it wasn't by much.
A few minutes later, they were both gasping, still grinning at each other, sweating profusely. M-21 was bruised in several places when he'd overreached, and M-24 sported a few shallow cuts from when he hadn't been able to get out of the way fast enough, but neither of them cared.
It had gone a lot better than M-21 had expected. With a sigh, they both moved towards the door - it had been a while since they'd eaten. M-21 put a hand over a particularly nasty bruise he could already feel - and realised too late that he still had his claws out when he shredded his shirt.
…Shit.
* * *
M-21 made sure his hands were firmly in his pockets as he looked at the clothes on the shelf in case he destroyed his last shirt. The tinny music that played overhead grated on his nerves, but it was ignorable.
He picked up two packets of shirts and walked over to where M-24 was, in the jacket section.
When M-21 neared him, M-24 glanced away from the black jacket in his hand and shrugged slightly. "It helped them to hide," M-24 explained.
That was true, M-21 mused, picking up another one - it felt too heavy and it looked like it would hinder his movement. If it hadn't been for the heartless' eyes, the fight would have been so much harder.
He spotted another kind of jacket and went over to it. He held one up, running his eyes over it. It was light, flexible, and it was longer than the previous jacket. M-21 turned to M-24, who nodded.
If the jacket could help them meld into the shadows at night, then a trench coat would be even better, right?
* * *
"Urk!"
M-21 whirled around in time to see M-24 stumble into the wall of their current hideout. "M-24!"
By the time M-21 reached his side, M-24 was already trembling. Recognising the signs instantly, M-21 tore open his own pills container and gave M-24 some. Dammit, they'd been so busy they hadn't kept track of the days again!
It didn't take long for the tremors to stop and as soon as he was able, M-24 sent M-21 a curious look.
"You don't need the pills?"
Confusion swirled in M-21 and he stared at M-24. They were always affected by their degrading bodies at the same time; what did -
M-21 hissed as pain slammed in him like one of M-24's punches. He still had a few pills left in his hand and he threw them into his mouth, swallowing them all in one gulp.
He sighed, closing his eyes as the pain receded, sagging against the wall beside M-24.
It meant nothing; his body was still degrading.
* * *
"Right then, Ponds," a man announced behind M-21 and M-24 as they studied the building in front of them, taking note of the security, how competent it seemed to be. "Welcome to…ah…"
"That's funny," a woman remarked after a pause. "You said we were going to a beach with two suns, and I'm hearing Scottish accents."
"Well, hmm, I may have gotten the co-ordinates wrong."
"Yeah, just slightly," the woman said dryly.
"Um, Doctor…?" a second man said quietly and M-21 and M-24 froze, not breathing. Shit, they had to get away.
"Those two…" the man continued. "They're both wearing trench coats."
And they'd already drawn their attention! They had to get out of their sight before he and M-24 became interesting to them.
"So?" the woman scoffed.
"Rory," the Doctor said, a patient tone in his voice, "lots of people wear trench coats."
"Not now they do!"
"I did," the Doctor said, affronted.
There was a snort. "Yeah? And how many years ago was that?"
"Hey!"
While they were distracted, M-21 and M-24 snuck away. They weren't followed.
* * *
M-21 glared darkly at the bobbing ship in front of him, his stomach already feeling queasy just looking at it. Crossing his arms, M-21 turned away from the sight, keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to get closer. Nothing moved so all he could do was wait for M-24 to finish questioning the sailor.
The wind carried M-24's scent to M-21 before he heard his soft tread. He glanced up at from the corner of his eyes; M-24 was frowning, wiping a drop of blood away from his mouth with a thumb.
"It happened again," M-24 murmured as they left, barely audible over the waves.
M-21's eyebrows raised slightly. Huh. They'd found out a while ago that M-24 seemed to have an…instinct to drink someone's blood when he wanted information from them - and he did get it from them, from their blood. They hadn't been able to look at the Union's database about it yet; they had either been too busy, too far away, one or both of them had been injured, or a multitude of other reasons.
He hummed, throwing a look over his shoulder at the boat. If someone found the dead body… And he didn't smell fire or ash. "What did you do with it?"
"Made it look like a robbery - took some money and valuables, slashed his throat to cover the bite marks."
Well, that would probably be enough - M-21 doubted whoever found the body would be looking at how much blood should have been lost.
* * *
M-24 suddenly breathed in sharply, his head twisting to the right, his eyes wide. He and M-21 were currently hiding in the shadows of a park, waiting for the exchange to happen - the Union wanted whatever was in their briefcase and no witnesses.
He hadn't been loud enough for the groups to hear him, and M-21 leaned back slightly, keeping the groups in sight.
"I…" M-24 raised a hand to rest it on his forehead. "I can feel something in my mind, like…" M-24's breathing stilled. "It's him," he said quietly. "The sailor."
M-21 jerked around to stare at him. What? There was no way M-24 would have failed in killing him and that didn't explain why they were now…connected.
And dammit now the exchange was happening - he and M-24 had to act fast while their attentions were on each other; they would find out what it all meant later.
* * *
M-21 eyed the door, half expecting to see a group of scientists walk in, but it didn't happen so he turned back around to see what M-24 was reading. There was no-one else in the computer room, the institute being the quietest one M-21 and M-24 had been in so far. In some ways, that put them even more on edge, because that made them stand out, the security knowing as soon as they saw them that they were strangers.
On the screen was a long list of folders and files and even after M-24 had narrowed down the search, there were still numerous different folders that they could look into. M-24's abilities weren't quite the 'Mind Reading' that had been described in that folder, or 'Plasma-Control', whatever that was, so he had started to look in 'drinking blood' and see where that took him.
"Huh."
M-21 read what was on the screen: 'Vampires a.k.a Noblesse'. Hm. M-21 didn't know that much about them so he skimmed the page, stumbling over some of the terminology. They drank blood, could read minds, control them as well, and were said to live very long lives. That was the closest result they'd gotten to M-24's abilities so far; the 'living long lives' obviously didn't apply to M-24. So, the scientists had given M-24 something of a noblesse?
M-24 closed the window and M-21 checked to see if anyone had come in while he was distracted - the room was still empty, only the hum of the computers and the lights breaking the silence.
When M-24 started typing again, M-21 froze when he saw what it was:
'M-series experiments'.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, his heart racing. They couldn't justify searching for themselves, and the scientists would want to know why they were!
"We said we'd look for their names and ours, did we?" M-24 said as the loading bar moved along the screen.
They had; this was their first chance to look after making that resolution. Breathing out slowly, his heart not slowing down, M-21 focused back on the door, listening for any approaching footsteps.
He looked back when the mouse creaked, threatening to crumple in M-24's hand.
'You do not have the authorisation to read these files.'
…What exactly had been done to them?
* * *
"Stop."
M-21 gritted his teeth, pushing his body past the reflex to do exactly what M-24 told him to do. He stumbled for a second but gained momentum again after two steps. He jabbed his hand towards M-24-
"Go left."
Dammit! M-21 swore as he nearly tripped over his feet and he glared at M-24, who was hiding a smile. Their spars were back to being uneven again.
* * *
M-24 sighed as the pills took effect, staring up at the ceiling - it was yellow (though it looked like it might have been white years ago), thick cracks going from one corner of the room to the other. "I need to re-stock on the pills."
M-21 twisted around to gape at him, his eyes going wide.
M-24 noticed straight away, and sent him a curious look. "What's wrong?"
His mouth opening and closing, M-21 reached into his pocket and pulled out his own pills container. It was unopened, the seal still in place. When had - how hadn't they noticed he'd never needed to take any more pills?
"I'm…" M-21 started shakily, "I don't need them anymore?" If he didn't need them anymore, he didn't have to return to the institutes either - he could lose his mobile and since he was a low level agent…
But that would mean…
"Why are you still standing here?" M-24 growled. "You can get away now."
"I'm not leaving you," M-21 snapped, shaking his head. How could he do that to his last comrade? "I don't need the pills anymore; you'll be the same too soon. And we're searching for our comrades's names together."
M-24 stared at him for a few seconds before sighing, a smile on his lips. "Yeah."
It wouldn't be long before they were both free. M-21 wasn't sure what they would do when it happened, but he couldn't wait for when it did.
* * *
"Hey, wake up."
M-21 blearily blinked up at M-24's face. The sun was only peeking through the window, the sky still dark.
"We have a new mission," M-24 murmured, watching M-21 sit up. "Someone stole a casket from the Union and the last place it was seen was in South Korea."
There was an uncomfortable pause and M-21 eyed M-24, wondering what else there was to the mission.
"We're going by boat."
Oh, great…
_______________________________________________
With cameos from Natsume and Ponta Nyan Nyan Nyangoro Nyanko-sensei/Madara from Natsume Yuujinchou/Natsume's Book of Friends, the heartless (velociraptors are cool :D) from Kingdom Hearts, and Amy, the eleventh Doctor and Rory from Doctor Who. I'd planned to have Yuuko from xxxHolic appear, but when it got to her scene, it didn't make that much sense (She was going to appear to M-21 in a dream in the last scene and ask what his wish was; he was going to say 'his freedom' and she'd then ask him if he would be willing to pay the high price for that, but since M-21 was already technically 'free' by that point I didn't write it.)
Soooo, I like writing dramatic irony; I think you might have noticed that. XDD;;
Yep, my brain's been pretty crossover-starved for the last couple of years.
I love seeing short-hand conversation, but omg do I hate writing them. Doesn't seem like good writing!
Pfffft, the Union's database pages look like Wikipedia.
And now I have some new headcanon: the reason why M-21's body stopped degrading was because he'd activated his werewolf blood. :3