René breaths in. Holds it one, two, three seconds. Lets it out. He walks out into the hallway and acts. He bows. He leads. He comments when needed. The perfect servant.
Quietly and discreetly, he watches Mikaela act out his part. Close to his lover but decent to public eye. He remembers when Mikaela was bad at this. And for a second, he can't help but smile.
René stood rigid. He would get in trouble, this he knew for sure. Mikaela was holding onto his sleeve. And in public eye he could neither console him or deny him. Mikaela was the one with fears, yet René would be the one punished nonetheless. That's the way things worked, René knew this and could not bring himself to feel anger, only pity. And perhaps, that was worse.
Mikaela let go with a harsh tug to his other hand, done by his father. René struggled to stay in place as he was yanked forward. For that, he would be punished too. Composing himself, he looks forward and awaits to be called to duty.
As he waits, he watches Mikaela, as he does whenever he can. He's the one who takes care of him after all. It's his duty now, now that the lady mother has passed.
Mikaela stands still, but his chest heaves with the breaths he's taking in too fast and too big. His hand must be deadweight in his fathers hand. Mikaela avoids his touch whenever he can because he knows. He heard and he saw. Just a peek. But a peek it was and it was enough.
When Rene's skin is still black and blue and tiny but bloody Mikaela cries at the sight. René holds him through his guilt, whispers sweet promises and lulls him to sleep. His body aches but it is alright. Mikaela hurts but it will pass. And that's all that matters.
René feels the intrusion at the front gates in the pit of his stomach before he hears it. He looks up and continues down the hall. Away from his duties and to his master. It wouldn't be the first time. He smiles and mournfully thinks, perhaps, it would be the last. He's prepared for this day for years. He smiles bitterly. He's not ready.
He was in the room when it happened. When the order went out to be fulfilled, he was in the room with Mikaela, behind a folding screen. They had snuck into the room to surprise the lady mother. Mikaela had begged and begged to see her before she left to Paris to visit her family. And René, sweet with his care could not deny him.
It happened fast. They broke in. There was a struggle. A scream. A shatter of a twin ceramic. A shuffle to his right. René pulled Mikaela away, covering both his eyes and mouth.
One mouth was shocked still. The other hissing out blood and curses to hell. At last, there was a dull thud.
Through the hinges, René saw it all. He knew Mikaela saw something when he felt him bite into his finger. To keep quiet or to be free to scream, René did not know.
Finally, receding footsteps. They stayed in that tea room, behind the folding screen until they came for the body. Until the bloody carpet was immaculate. Until everything was back in order except for a twin tea cup.
When they finally made it out of the room, Mikaela was with fever. Rare for a vampire but not impossible. The house was in disarray because of it. Nonetheless, René did not lie when he speculated about why Mikaela had fallen ill.
"Perhaps it was the shock of the Lady Mothers death."
Everyone took that to heart.
They knew he knew. He knew who's clawed still reeked of blood. He knew the dull look as they sliced open skin. René knew and for that they'd perish. There was a sick twisted feeling of happiness in the pit of Rene's stomach.
When he made it to the tea room, Mika was staring wide eyed at the window and Yuuichirou was at the window, looking out of it, confused. He turned when René entered.
Yuuichirou asked, "What's happening?"
"The Demon Company." Is all he said as he advanced on Mikaela, took his hand and pulled him along behind himself. The extra pair of footsteps where Yuuichirou's, and at this point René didn't care. He had a promise to fulfill.
He made his way to the kitchen. The kitchen they frequented, preferred. The one that held all their memories and shared moments. The one they used to pretend to be normal. Their sanctuary in a wide and empty estate. Because that's what it was. An empty house with lonely, wayward souls that clung to each other for a scrap of warmth.
Mikaela's mother took the easygoing smiles and laughter. She took the light out of the estate. Mikaela was a small bright light. A candle compared to the roaring flames that his mother was. Nonetheless, that small flame kept them warm for years. If Mikaela's mother was the light, Mikaela was the shadow. René said, told, promised, swore on his life to keep their—his flame alive.
They arrived at the kitchen. Lacus and Yoichi stood there, grim faces and stiff bodies. They knew what was happening. They knew it was time. René had stated and they had gone pale and denied, but accepted.
The clock ticked.
René allowed himself to smile. Real and wide. Till' it reached his eyes. His cheeks warmed and it felt strange on his facial muscles, but he held it in place. Ignored the intake of breath at the sight he made and turned to Mikaela.
Mikaela was obviously confused, a little scared, but shocked and so incredibly pleased at the smile of his dearest friend. His closest friend. His father. His brother. Whatever title that kept him close to him belonged to René. It had for years. Why did it feel like he would lose it?
René, if any possible, felt his smile widen, his cheeks blush as he he cupped Mikaela's face in his hands. Leaned down and pressed his forehead to his beloved treasure. The one he lost sleep over. The one that made his heart sore higher than the likes of him deserved, a simple servant.
René let out a breath and inhaled deep. Taking in Mikaela's unique scent. The roses. The slight smell of dust from spending his time reading old texts. Above all else, the smell he couldn't decipher, but it was the smell he associated with home. Because Mikaela had been his home the day he first set eyes one him. Baby blue eager to please.
Mikaela inhaled shakily. Happy but confused. He ignored the dark and sense of wrong in the pit of his stomach. He held Rene's hands in place. Waiting for René to move, to explain himself. To explain what was happening. He wants his guide.
René rubbed his nose on Mikaela's and closed his eyes, recalling the conversation he had with Lacus and Yoichi after the latter fully became one of them.
"What do you mean...with that?" Lacus asked, slow and a bit unsteady. Furrowing his eyebrows and looking to Yoichi who had no answer to give. He turned back to René once he realized he and Yoichi were on the same boat.
René inhaled and breathed out, "I need you both to take my place, regarding my place by Mikaela's side."
"That's—that's what we don't get!" Yoichi said, a bit too loud and forceful. René said nothing about it. Understanding the outburst.
"The day will come when I am no longer here," he spoke, staring at nothing on particular, "Mikaela will need someone then."
"Why wouldn't you be here? You've always been here. Always. Out of sight but never far from him, so why—"
"The peace we've come to know is nearing its end." René set his eyes on the vampires before him, "Do you really think the army will forever be blind to what we do behind closed doors?"
They flinched. And then, the understanding settled into their bones. Lacus turned away and paced the room. Yoichi was aghast. Pale like the snow. As if he hadn't had his fill with blood just this morning.
It was quiet until, quietly, Yoichi broke the silence,"Why?" Nothing. Then, "If any of us should...perish, no, that—no one is dying! The least of all you!"
Lacus kicked something. It echoed throughout the kitchen.
"Mikaela needs you. Now and forever."
"He's right." Lacus murmured. Turning to look at him. Eyes red but dry. "You can't do that to him. Not after everything."
René smiled, but it was so very sad. He placed his hand over the lapel that rested over his heart. The one that gave him his high rank. The one that told everyone that he was the one that stood with Mikaela, front and center. The one that was given to him too soon, too sudden. The one he strived to deserve beside the fact that it was his. The one Mikaela once placed on him when it had fallen on the ground. That was when René felt like he was enough. Enough to fill the hole in his little dove's heart. And if not fill it, then mend it. Just a little was enough for him. If he could somehow make Mikaela outshine the shadow his mother cast—just a bit—that would be enough.
"It's time for him to outgrow me." René stated, leaving no room for arguments, "He's been clinging to my hand for too long. As much as I'd wish to hold it forever, there comes a time when one outgrows their caretakers."
"All I am saying, preparing you for, is that that time will come sooner than later." He added, looking into Lacus' eyes first and then Yoichi's, "Mikaela is still so...so naive when it comes to certain things. It's what makes him endearing. I..." René then did something Lacus swore he'd never see.
It felt as if someone had stabbed his heart and was wrenching it around. In all his years of service, never had he heard René honestly complain. Never had he ever resented his place next to Mikaela. Never had he seemed unhappy.
Most of all, René had never cried.
No matter how hard the situation, how harrowing, how wrecking it was, he never cried. He was the pillar that held them together. To see it crumble before his eyes... Lacus felt too much and too little at the same time.
"I trust you will take care of him."
Lacus broke. He himself had not cried in years, but he was now. It took all he had to remain standing. But for the life of him, he couldn't hold back the sob that followed his tears.
He could hear Yoichi cry, he could hear their hearts beat. Rene's was accelerated like it had been when he thought he might loose Mikaela. It only beat like that for Mikaela. It now beat for himself. That was the worst of it all.
Lacus swallowed, rubbed his tears away, straightened his back and thought of saying, '"As you wish." But this was personal, intimate, not an order but a request, a plea. So he said,"With your blessing, I would do anything." Then, "You know I will."
Before Yoichi could speak, René had crossed the room and had his arms around them both. Shocked still, it took them a while to hold him back. When they did, they held on so much they could hear their bones ache in discomfort.
"You have my blessing," was murmured to them. A little muffled against them, but they hardly cared, not when René shook so terribly. "Both of you." He whispered.
"Please protect him for me. Care and love him for me." He laughed a little sad thing and added, "Make sure he doesn't despair and mourn for me too much."
"That's all I ask."
"Mikaela," René spoke, opened his eyes and stared into his blue skies, "No, Mika," Mikaela inhaled sharply, his eyes watered.
"You are a blessing I don't deserve," he spoke, steady and sure, "A being like me has no right to be so close to then sun. Yet here I am, where you've let me stay for more than a handful of decades." He laughed, it was wet but fully happy, "I want to say so much."
Mikaela was crying, he blinked his tears away and tried to understand what was happening(he knew), why René was doing what he was doing(he knew). Saying what he was saying(he knew). Why his eyes shone with love and adoration and so many lovely things, but faded to sorrow(he knew!!). When René made to move away, Mikaela pressed closer. Pressed his hands to his face and breathed in René, so so confused and desperately ignoring the feeling that stabbed at his heart. At his very soul.
"René..." he murmured, pleaded.
René pulled away softly, and before Mikaela could pull him back, he planted his lips on Mikaela's forehead. Stayed there and whispered a small, "I love you."
Mikaela wept, happy and so very confused. He sobbed and held on when René pulled away again. He pulled of his lapel and placed it in his hands. Mikaela allowed him to wipe his tears and straighten out to his full height.
And then, he let go. And walked past him, past Yuuichirou and to where they came from. Mikaela knew the thudding he heard wasn't just his heart. There were screams and the sound of shattering ceramics, glass, and anything delicate enough to break. Skin and bone. Life's and families.
Mikaela turned and stared wide eyed at René, who stopped in place, his back turned to them. He places a hand on the doorway and turned. Eyes wet.
That made Mikaela move, but before he could take a step he was being held back.
Time seemed to freeze then, it broke quietly, when René shifted from one foot and the other and then turned back to look at him. And only him.
It felt like he was three again. The he felt like he was six again, René nine. When it was just them. When father was too busy to remember he existed. When mother was burnt, or buried, or simply disposed of—he never was told what was done to her.
When it was just them. Them against the world that devoured the weak. When they huddled close and survived, somehow.
The ache that lingered deep between Mikaela broke loosed with two words.
"I'm sorry." René spoke. The one that shielded him from all he could. The one that raised him with affection when no one else was brave enough to try. The one he clung to whenever something went horribly wrong.
Things were horribly wrong now. Mikaela let reality sink in. The chaos inside the estate. The sweet words—the farewell!
"No!" He shouted, struggling against Lacus and Yoichi. Mikaela then cursed himself to hell and back, if he was at his finest, Lacus and Yoichi wouldn't be an obstacle. But because he refused—couldn't—to drink the blood, they were.
When René turned away from him, he felt a burst of strength and almost broke free, until he heard screaming and then, Yuuichirou was there too. Holding him back.
He screamed, cursed, kicked, scratched and bit. Nothing worked!
Then with a last plea, Mikaela thrust his hand out. Reaching for René. René who would always hold his hand. René who never refused him when it mattered.
René started to walk, Mikaela cried, "You promised! René! You promised!"
René kept walking, "You promised you'd never leave me! Everyone can leave but you! I'm selfish remember? You're mine! René! René please!
He heard a door open behind him, felt himself being pulled back and towards a world without René.
Voice hoarse, Mikaela gave a final shout, "YOU PROMISED! RENÉ!"
And then he was out. Out in a world without René. Out in a world without his faithful wraith. Out in a world without the only being that kept him alive through everything that hurt a tad too much. He closed his eyes once. The lapel in Mikaela's hand was covered in blood.
René walked, doing his best to not turn back and whisper sweet nothings to Mika. To scare the bad away. To soothe the hurt away.
A broken burst of laughter left Rene's mouth at the irony. He was the one that hurt his little, golden, caged bird. But he was free now. Free to stretch his wings and do as he pleased. Which is why he needed to secure it.
"Small comforts." He murmured to himself. Wiping his tears away, he headed out to the chaos. Where it was thickest. As he walked he thought back to the sleepless nights where he thought, thought, and thought about what to do when this day came. To secure Mikaela's freedom. To save him from death.
He had arrived at this. He would stay and hold them back. Only he could do it. He was the strongest one there. The most experienced. The most heartless. He could bare the pain.
He could bare it. He would bare it.
"I can bear it." He whispered, finally making his way out of the skirmishes and into the front of the estate. He hadn't cared for the chaos inside, he neither helped nor fought. Just cleared his path as he went. He felt his anger rise. Good. But not too much, too much will make you emotional. Emotions distract. He found a balance.
His clothes were stained red. His claws were dripping red. His eyes were red. He willed himself to anger.
The estate where Mikaela grew up was in ruins. The place where he cried and laughed in. The place where memories both good and bad lived. The place he cultivated for Mikaela. Curtains stained, ripped, and burned. The smell of blood and death. No more roses.
He came to a stop. Regarded Kureto and his men.
"Where is he?" Kureto spoke, demanded.
René remained silent.
"Well, if it's going to be like this," Kureto said, motioning at his men," the let's begin."
René doesn't know how long it took. How many he tore apart. Doesn't care.
But it's quiet now. The chaos grew quiet.
He's on his knees. Filthy and bloody from head to toe. Is there a single part of him that isn't bloody? His body aches. It hurts to breath.
He knows he's succeeded when he turns his eyes and finds the head of his last obstacle.
His breathing is haggard and it sounds wet. His mouth is dripping red and he's breathing mostly from there. It makes sense he thinks, after all that went though him.
He gets a minute to breath peace before the bloody gravel behind him stirs. Footsteps.
Whoever it is, they're injured as well. Limping. Bleeding. Something must be broken. They make to stand before him. And René thinks they truly must be arrogant if they want to make an impression on the one they intend to kill.
René feels the cool touch of a blade under his chin. He doesn't struggle when it guides his head up, it anything, he helps the process. Staring right into their eyes. Ah. Guren...René thinks. He's not sure. His thoughts are sluggish and slow. His sclera are stained red from his own blood. Even with heightened senses, there's only so much one can take.
What human arrogance, he chuckles. He's to die wether or not his head departs his body.
René sits up straight—it aches—looks up to the sky. It's no longer blue. He wishes it was blue, even if it paled in comparison to the blue in his little doves eyes. There's a sunset. And at sunsets, sometimes, René would sit with Mikaela and watch it. He wonders if he's watching it now.
He smiles at the thought.
He thinks he might have heard a scoff, it hardly matters. If the sky is bleeding red, René bought them enough time. He fulfilled his promise.
'I kept him safe my lady.' He thinks, relishing in the wind that sweeps by. Carrying the smell of roses along with a few stray petals. He laughs a quiet, breathy thing when a petal lands in front of him. He takes it in his bloody, shaking hand and brings it up to his lips to press a kiss against it. He ignores the moving gravel. He lowers his hand back to side, caressing the red petal between his fingers.
René looks back up at the sky. He hears a shift. He breaths in and lets it out. Relishing in the gentle wind that tugs at his hair. So soft. So sweet. So gentle. His eyes water.
He's tired. He aches. He hurts. He's happy. His rare smile returns. Taking one last good look at the sky, he closes his eyes and murmurs to the wind, urging it to carry his words.
"I'm happy, little dove."
There's a noise as the wind is cut.
The pocket watch will ring—
Timid smiles. Sweet scents. Mikaela.
Home.
—It shatters before it does.