Trinity Blood Fan Fiction ❯ Blood Sacrifice ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

 

The voyage from Rome to the coast of Hispania went by much faster then either man would have liked once their ship left the Tiber and moved into the open sea. The weather remained bright, the sun warm on their faces whenever they ventured out onto the deck. Despite León's earlier problem with the first mate, the rest of the ship's staff was fairly congenial to the two priests, no doubt their position in the church affording them a bit of added hospitality.

The two kept to themselves for the most part, taking the majority of their meals in their room, though they did accept an invitation to dine with the ship's captain their last night aboard. Abel handled most of the conversation, León having little interest in participating in the polite etiquettes that such a situation usually called for. Before the two departed however, one of the ship's junior officers, who had also been in attendance, had quietly pulled Abel aside for a few moments to ask the priest to pray for his mother who had been quite ill recently. The pale-haired man gave the young man his reassurance that he would do so, offering the man a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before taking his leave, León following him.

 

 

When the pair rose the next morning, the coast of Hispania could be sighted from the ship's railing, with a few more hours' voyage seeing the ship entering Valentia's harbor.

The wharf was bustling, the port being one of the major trading centers in the region, the area around the city itself well known for its orange and olive groves. Before it was allowed to dock however, the ship had to go through a customary inspection by one of the harbor masters before it was cleared to enter. Once the ship was docked, it was still more than an hour before the passengers, Abel and León among them, were allowed to disembark, the pair shouldering their travel packs as they made their way down the gangplank and onto the dock.

The sun was shining, the air warm but not uncomfortably so, typical weather for the region at that time of the year. The wharf was busy with people, carts and vehicles, all on their way to some business or other, the majority laden with cargo of some kind. The two men received only a few cursory glances from passersby, the city's residents long used to travelers; and more recently, refugees from Barcelona who had fled the once great city in the wake of its devastation.

Abel was quiet as he walked, careful not to lose sight of León in the crowd. He hadn't been to Hispania since the Barcelona incident, and although the memory of where he was ached dully, it was hard not to find himself at least somewhat cheered by the bustling crowds. The country had suffered a terrible blow, but seemed to be holding together well enough.

It had been years since León had been to this part of Hispania, the dark-haired man having originally been from the more southern region of the kingdom near Morocco. It didn't take León long to get his heading however, the big man steering his companion away from the dock area and towards a district filled with traveler's hotels, some quite ornate looking, and others much more plain and non-nondescript. It was to one of the latter that he made his way, Abel only a step or two behind him.

With the swell of refugees from Barcelona, rooms were still at a premium, but after a little haggling, León was able to secure a room for him and Abel, the pale-haired priest doling out the required deposit before the clerk handed over the room key. The room itself was not very large, but it was clean, the curtains on the single window and the coverings on the room's large bed, worn but in good repair. In addition to the bed, there was also a bureau for their clothing as well as a small table and two chairs next to the window. It lent the room a worn, but inviting feel, and Abel decided he liked it well enough as they entered. "Nicely done, by the way, managing this," he said to León as they entered the room.

León shrugged and flung his bag down on the bed, the brunette then turning to open the window, muted sounds from the street below filtering into the room. Abel moved toward the bureau, setting his bag down beside it before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, listening to the frame creak softly as he did so. Splaying his hands on the sill, León leaned out the window slightly. "What are the chances of getting something to eat before we start our little investigation?"

The pale-haired priest managed a soft chuckle at that. "Consider who you're asking, and you tell me."

Leon chuckled and pulled his head back in the window. "You're the one holding the purse strings, four-eyes."

"I wouldn't mind eating something," Abel said.

"Let's get to it then."

 

Abel let León choose their restaurant once they left the hotel. Abel knew very little of Hispania's more affordable cuisine, and he had also learned in all his time traveling, that natives tended to know the best places to get food at a decent price. The café León chose was small, and perched on a patio near the water's edge. The table they had received gave them a halfway decent view of the ocean, and a small pathway led down to a larger, open area that afforded a much more scenic vista. For all its seeming splendor, it was reasonably priced, and it wasn't long before both men had meals in front of them. In addition to food, León had also taken the liberty of ordering a carafe of the local sangria, the brunette man turning his glass to admire the chilled dark red liquid for a moment or two before putting it to his lips and taking a healthy mouthful. Abel had ordered tea for himself, and sweetened very heavily. It was a necessity for him that often got him ribbed by his compatriots. He took their teasing graciously, knowing that at their heart, they didn't really understand that his sweet tooth wasn't entirely voluntary, but a demand put on his body by the Crusnik 02.

León had joked with him as well, offering to look for some raw sugar cane for the priest to gnaw on. Like the rest of the AX team, León was aware of Abel's other self, though the dark-eyed man had only witnessed the transformation twice during his time with the AX. But it didn't bother him too much; all of them were different in some way, Catarina seeking them out for the purpose of using their special abilities and talents for the protection of the church; and León himself was no exception. It was his talents as a professional soldier that she had sought out, his knowledge of warfare and infiltration that had drawn her attention and given him a reprieve from the hangman's noose.

Catarina had arranged for León's sentenced to be commuted from death to a thousand year imprisonment, with each mission León undertook on behalf of the AX taking time off his sentence. León had taken the lady Cardinal's offer; but not because he had been afraid to die, but for other more personal reasons that had nothing to do with the continuation of his own life, and to which only he, Abel and Catarina were privy. He had been one of the last to join the team, his particular skills and talents reserved for cases where they could be put to the best use.

Unlike Hugue, who tended to work alone and go his own way, León was almost always partnered with another member of AX, more often then not with Abel. Though he sometimes played the fool, the pale-haired priest had quickly proven himself to be anything but. Abel was quick-thinking, a crack shot and exceptionally quick and nimble. He was also fairly easy going, the kind of person who could get along with almost anyone and who had a lot of compassion for others; and in his Crusnik form, he was nearly unstoppable. The members of AX were a motley group to be sure, a mish-mash of often conflicting personalities, but all of them had one thing in common -- their loyalty to Cardinal Catarina Sforza.

Abel wasn't often assigned partners, since the work he did usually seemed to land him in situations that normal humans, even those in AX, weren't able to handle. The only exception to that tended to be León; a partnering that Abel had the sneaking suspicion was often as much to make sure Abel had someone watching his back as it had to do with them providing "insurance" that León wouldn't try to escape. And Abel knew that, if he had to be partnered with anyone, especially after the Barcelona incident, he couldn't have asked for a more comfortable choice than León.

León too liked working with Abel, even before the two of them had become lovers, the blue-eyed priest's friendly open manner a stark contrast to Hugue, who seemed to have an air of perpetual disdain around him. "You look unusually thoughtful," Abel murmured finally, breaking himself from his thoughts and seeing that León seemed to have wandered off into his own mind as well.

The dark-haired man turned his gaze on the man across from him. "Just enjoying the sunshine." León put the wineglass to his lips once again.

"A nice complement to your drink, judging by the look on your face," Abel said, and smiled a bit. "I don't believe I've ever seen you look so content, León."

"I guess something can be said for a having a glass of decent wine near the ocean."

"The view is lovely, I have to admit."

"It's not bad." León agreed.

Abel took a sip of his tea, made a slight face at the flavor, but settled comfortably in his own seat. Their server returned a few minutes later bearing a tray laden with food which she arranged on the table around the two men before quietly departing. In addition to the spicy rice that seemed to be a staple of the Hispania diet, the other dishes were mostly seafood due to the proximity of the ocean. Abel found a particular mild white fish dish to be most agreeable, though many of the other dishes were far too spicy for his tastes, some of them looking far too innocuous to have the heat they did, and Abel found his eyes watering from the unexpected spice more than once during the meal.

In between chuckles over Abel's apparent slight discomfort, León savored his own meal, his palate long used to the myriad of spices though it had been over seven years since he had last enjoyed some of the authentic dishes of his homeland. The dark-haired man made it a point to take his time to linger over an old favorite, fresh mussels over a bed of saffron rice, whose aroma alone made his dining companion's china blue eyes water.

Abel had long since finished eating himself, and was sipping his tea, deciding there was more enjoyment to be had in watching León savor his meal than in trying to partake of the spicy fare himself. His own appetite had been fleeting anyway, and he sated what was left of it with his drink. León hunted through the mussel shells one last time to make sure he hadn't missed any before pushing his plate back and reaching for his wineglass and taking a rather good sized drink. Abel smiled a bit at that. "Feeling a bit better now?"

The other man grinned. "At least the gnawing hole in my stomach is gone any rate."

Chuckling at that, Abel set down his teacup. "Well, that's something, I suppose," he said.

"I'm usually more agreeable once I've been fed . . . in one way or another."

Still chuckling quietly, the priest leaned in just a little, to ensure his words would be heard by no one but León. "Then I suppose it's a good thing you have me along..."

"Especially when I want seconds and thirds...

Abel coughed softly, and blushed a little; although he was far from innocent, it was sometimes hard not to get embarrassed by the other man's blunt speech. "Indeed," he said softly, smiling a bit.

León chuckled, his brown eyes seeming to sparkle a bit in the sunlight as he raised his wineglass to his lips and took a drink. The expression ensured Abel's own smile didn't waver or fade, the priest lifting his teacup back up to his own lips. The brunette made a contented sound as he settled back in his chair and rolled his shoulders a bit, the sunlight catching on the gold locket resting just below the hollow of his throat. Abel smiled a little at that, and then eventually let his gaze turn toward the ocean again, his expression becoming thoughtful. León followed the pale-haired man's gaze, taking in the ocean view as well for a bit. "So..." León started. "You ready to go take a look at that church?"

"As...ready as I'm going to be," Abel replied, jarred a little from his thoughts by the question and smiling a bit. "If you're ready to go, that is."

"Not really," the dark-eyed man replied. "But it is why we're here, so I guess we should get to it before it gets too late."

"True." Abel took a last swallow of his tea and stood. "We should probably have something to report by the time Sister Kate catches up with us."

Seeing the two men rising from their table, the server hurried over with their check, the young woman thanking the priests for their patronage after Abel paid the bill. Once things had been taken care of, the two men left the outdoor café and headed towards the church, their server more than happy to supply the two with directions as she had counted back Abel's change.

 

 

The walk from the café gave Abel plenty of time to mull over the limited information Catarina had given him on the situation. He couldn't begin to imagine what might have ignited such a slaughter in a place where vampires not only existed, but went to worship with humans willingly. It simply didn't make any sense. The path that led to the church was narrow, leading away from the edge of the city and up into a nearby cluster of forest. No wonder no one knew anything had gone wrong until so late, Abel mused to himself as the church finally came into sight.

The first thing that struck Abel about the building was the size of it. It was a decidedly more modest building than the priest expected, built of some utilitarian gray stone, and apparently made up of two floors. There were several stained glass windows, though their colors and patterns were difficult to discern from the outside. The doors were made of a carefully polished, dark-colored wood. And as León and Abel drew closer, they saw the two guards posted to either side of those double-doors. Abel took notice of the rifles that the two men were carrying, and tensed somewhat. The pleasant expression he wore didn't change, however, even when he found the barrels of both of those rifles leveled at his chest. "No unauthorized persons are allowed in the church," one of the guards, a young man with a clean-shaven, slightly sunburned face said.

One of Abel's hands slid into his robes slowly, and the two guards visibly tensed, their guns held in firmer grips. A moment later, the hand withdrew again, a slim card held between two slender fingers. "This should be all the authorization you need," Abel said.

While the young man kept his weapon trained on Abel, the other guard stepped forward to examine the card. He was older than his companion; with the sun worn, leathery look of a man who had spent years in the field and survived on more than just luck. Abel watched this older man calmly as he took the ID card and scrutinized it closely. A few seconds seemed to stretch on into an eternity, and Abel didn't start getting nervous until he saw León starting to finger one of the chakram that adorned his wrists impatiently.

Before Abel had to say anything to try and calm his companion, the guard who had been checking Abel's ID lowered his rifle and handed the card over again. "Forgive me, Father," the man said, in a tone as worn and leathery as his skin. "We were only under orders..."

Abel held up a hand to quiet the apology, the other hand secreting his ID card away again. "It's quite all right," He said. "But if there's no further proof of authorization I need to show you, my partner and I would like to see the inside of the church before it gets too dark."

"Yes, Sir, of course."

"Thank you."

The two men each stepped over to one of the doors, opening them and holding them open for León and Abel. As the two priests headed inside, Abel stopped and looked at the older guard. "A request, if I may."

The man nodded. "Of course, Father."

"I should rather like to be assured that we won't be disturbed throughout our investigation. Do not, under any circumstances, open this door again until we've come back out."

"Yes, Sir."

Abel nodded his approval at that, and stepped inside. The interior of the church was dimly lit, even with the sun still shining brightly outside, something Abel immediately attributed to the stained-glass windows. They weren't the typical mural-like windows that were usually found in the higher end churches, but free-form mosaics of multi-colored glass that had seemed to have little rhyme or reason to them. The light that passed threw them fell across the floor in faded patches, giving the place a melancholy air, even without the chaos, and the abundance of blood and gore, limbs and corpses that littered the aisles and stained the walls, seeming to radiate outward from the small altar at the head of the building. "My God..." Abel breathed, bringing up a gloved hand to cover his mouth and nose, as much to try and filter out the stench as in shock.

"Jesus..." The word whispered from León's lips, the dark-haired man also bringing his hand up to cover his mouth and nose. Though he had seen more than his fair share of blood and gore during his years as a soldier, the carnage that filled the inside of the church made the bile rise slightly in his throat.

The more Abel looked, the less it all seemed to make sense, his eyes darting across the smears of gore on the wall. "...This doesn't make any sense..." He murmured as he took a slow step forward. Already pale, the priest had gone a shade lighter. The amount of blood, and the ravaged bodies were a sight he had seen far too many times; a Methuselah had gone berserk. Possibly more than one, to cause such complete carnage. But that made no sense. Why would something like that happen here? In such small communities of co-existence, those vampires who couldn't abide by humans typically made their way elsewhere.

"It's like a slaughterhouse..." León looked down around his feet, the carpet dark with dried blood.

"It is," Abel agreed softly. "But this...this is over the top...most Methuselah wouldn't waste blood on this kind of senseless carnage."

Awash with blood. Leon had once heard someone use that phrase, but he had never really imagined just what such words could mean until now. The carpet, the walls, the pews, even some of the lower stained glass windows...all of it splashed and spattered with blood, entrails, brain matter and body parts.

"Are you sure it was a vampire?" the dark-haired man asked his companion. "This is beyond even them."

"I suppose it could have been some kind of summoned creature..." Abel murmured, carefully picking his way down the aisle toward the pulpit, cautious about treading on any of the still recognizable body parts strewn about the floor.

"I don't like this..." the other man followed Abel, his brown eyes flicking back and forth, taking in the carnage surrounding them.

"Neither do I ..." Abel trailed off, then, becoming aware of a prickling along his skin, something that made him shudder a little.

León took no notice; his gaze caught by several deep gouges in one of the pews, the dark-haired man pausing to squat down and take a closer look. Abel glanced back at León briefly, and then turned his attention forward again, having come to a stop at the foot of the short stairway that led up to the pulpit and the altar. Instead of a cross, or a statue of the Virgin Mary or her blessed Son, there was a massive statue of the archangel Michael, standing with sword upraised, unearthly beautiful face twisted in an expression of rage. The statue had been carefully painted, and the sword seemed almost real, the "blade" catching the light now and again. Both angel and sword were as washed in blood as the rest of the building, and it gave Abel a chill to realize that the blood didn't look terribly out of place.

His companion was still crouched down in front of the pew, León running his fingertips over the deep grooves in the dark wood, the marks looking relatively fresh despite the blood that had dried in them. The prickling along his skin grew worse, and Abel reached up absently to rub his upper arms, thinking perhaps he had just gotten a chill. His ears were starting to ring, too, the tone low, almost in the background of his thoughts. "...Can you hear that, León?" He asked.

"Huh?" The brunette lifted his head and looked over towards the pale-haired man. "Hear what?" he asked as he stood back up.

"I'm...not quite sure," Abel said, his head tilting a little. "It's almost like a tone...but it's so faint..."

León cocked his head a bit as well as he concentrated. After a few moments he shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"Perhaps I'm imagining it, then," Abel murmured.

"Maybe it's the souls of these people." The brown-eyed man said. "Crying out for vengeance and all that."

"Perhaps." There was a note of hollowness to Abel's words, his tone almost absent-minded as he walked slowly up those three stairs. The ringing grew steadily worse as he did, making him wince a little, the tiny prickling along his skin starting to amplify a little more, too, the sensation bordering on painful.

León's eyes lingered on the other man for a moment or two, until Abel ascended the stairs. Leaving the ivory-haired priest to his own devices, León moved to take a closer look at one of the bodies that was still more or less intact. Although, intact might have been too generous a word, León thought as he looked at the body lying twisted on the blood drenched carpet. One arm was gone, looking to have been ripped off judging by the torn flesh and splintered bone where it would have been joined to the shoulder. The corpse's head had nearly been shorn from its shoulders, the blood covered visage attached to its neck by a piece of flesh no thicker than León's thumb. The man had also been eviscerated, his entrails spilling out of a gaping hole in his midsection.

The carnage up on the small dais was on par with what the rest of the room had seen, an overturned bowl of communion wafers and a spilled bottle of wine the only things that stood out aside from the sheer volume of blood. "This doesn't make any sense," He murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the room slowly again, trying to see the church as the priest might have before his untimely end.

It wasn't the wanton slaughter that made the bile rise in León's throat however. As a soldier during the Moroccan War of Independence, León had seen and participated in numerous battles and seen the carnage left in their wake. The dead littering the ground under the hot Moroccan sky, the dying gurgling out their last breath, and the moans of the wounded...he had seen and survived it all. But there had always been one thing that had made him feel sick to his stomach afterwards.

Flies. Swarms of them feasting on the blood of the dead, filling the air with the buzzing of hundreds of wings, their fat bloated bodies circling over the battlefield for days; and as León had crouched down to look at the body in the church, several of the black insects rose up from the corpse, buzzing angrily in his face before he waved them off with a curse. The sound drew Abel's attention immediately, his eyes turning to the dark-haired man. The fair-haired priest was starting to feel a little light-headed, and reached out to steady himself against the pulpit as he did, his palm resting on a heavy metal cross being used to keep the book open. That faint pain exploded into a roar of agony, and Abel gasped sharply, jerking his hand back and staggering back a step in surprise.

León looked up at the dais. "Abel?"

Abel barely heard León's voice, the ringing in his ears almost deafening now, the air around him starting to crackle with building energy, a power familiar but unbidden starting to rise in the priest.

León straightened up, his dark eyes on the other man. "Abel?"

Unable to reply, Abel wrapped his arms around himself, closing his eyes and trying to reestablish his control over the Crusnik nano-machines, which seemed to be activating on their own. A soft voice in his mind, one as familiar as his own, spoke to him. "Crusnik 02 activated," it said. "Eighty-percent power limitation acknowledged."

"Abel?" The dark-haired man's voice rose in volume as he moved towards the dais.

"L-León..." Abel staggered back another few steps before falling to his knees, his dark-feathered wings bursting from his back, his hair standing on end from the bio-electricity surging around him, the suddenness of the nano-machine activation drawing a pained scream from the priest's lips.

"What the hell...ABEL!" León rushed to the other man, covering the three steps leading up to the dais in two long strides.

Abel was bent double, on his knees with his forehead nearly touching the floor, clutching at his sides as the wings stretched out to their fullest, the Crusnik's eyes glowing brightly as a fresh surge of pain made him gasp.

"Damn it..." León stopped a few feet away from the other man, slipping one of his chakram from his wrist and into his hand. He didn't know what was happening, but if Abel was activating his Crusnik nano-machines then it meant that there was trouble.

Abel released his side with one hand, using the freed appendage to brace himself against the floor, gasping for breath, a sharp cough bringing blood to his lips. "L-León..."

"What is it?" The other man asked as he started kneel down next the pale-haired man, feeling a slight tingle along his skin from the kinetic energy surrounding Abel. "What's wrong?"

"Can't...control it..." Abel gasped out, his fingers digging at the patch of carpet under his hand, the elongated nails tearing furrows down to the wood. "Something is...wrong..."

León started to reach out towards the priest, hesitating slightly, and as abruptly as it all had started, the sudden transformation began to die away again, the crackling energy around Abel fading, the wings themselves starting to dissolve as Abel collapsed soundlessly to his side, a thin stream of blood trickling from one corner of his mouth. "Abel!" Cursing under his breath, León reached to check Abel's pulse, pressing his fingers against the artery in the other man's neck, nearly sighing in relief when he found one, though it was faint. There was still a faint residue of electricity, weak enough to be nothing but static, and it made a soft crackling sound as León's fingers touched Abel's skin.

Satisfied that the other man's pulse was steady, León sat back on his heels, unsure as whether he should try moving the unconscious man or not. "C'mon, Four-eyes," he said softly. "Don't crap out on me now." It was several minutes before there was any sign of life in the man, but when he finally managed to crack his eyes open again; Abel's gaze was its usual pale blue. "Abel?" León's voice was soft as he looked at the other man, checking for signs of recognition.

"L...León..." Abel rasped, his eyes swimming in and out of focus, the pupils dilating and contracting a little as they struggled.

"The one and only." the other man said with a nod of his dark head.

A faint, momentary smile touched Abel's lips before fading again. "We...we should go..." he whispered.”While...I can't sustain the nano-machines..."

"Can you sit up?"

Abel closed his eyes again, trying to sit up, only to grasp his head with a soft sound. "With...help, I think." León shifted and slipped his arms under and around the ivory-haired man and gently lifted him up, Abel's much slighter form light in his arms. Once he as actually upright, it seemed to help, though the priest still leaned against León. "T-thank you..."

"Just sit still for a couple minutes." The brunette man instructed his dark eyes on Abel's face, the priest's normally pale complexion even more so with a slight undertone of green. Abel closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sight of the slaughter around the two of them, giving a tiny nod. After a few moments, León slipped one of his arms away, though he continued to support Abel's back with the other. Several more minutes passed before Abel tried to move again, sitting up a little more and opening his eyes. "What the hell happened?" León asked when he saw that the other man was looking a bit more alert.

"Truthfully...I'm not quite sure," Abel murmured softly.

The other man didn't pursue the subject any further, deciding that it would probably be better to wait until later, when Abel didn't look or seem so shell-shocked. Instead, León waited for a few more minutes before he suggested that the other man try to stand up. Again, Abel required assistance, clinging to León's arm as the man rose to his feet, pulling Abel up with him. Once the priest got to his feet, it took a few moments for him to get steadied, León not letting go of him. As soon as Abel was able to stay on his feet, he gave León's arm a gentle squeeze. "Let's go," He murmured.

The dark-haired man nodded before he gently started moving the two of them off the dais, letting Abel set the pace as they slowly descended the steps and made their way back up the center aisle and towards the front doors. Abel's steps were slow but steady, the man's balance good. It was mostly the exhaustion that was starting to set in that got to him, leaving him holding onto León's arm in a gentle but firm grip. The two eventually made their way to the front doors, León kicking the thick carved wood with the sole of his boot, not wanting to let go of the pale-haired man. "Open up!" he called out to the guards on the other side.

The two men wasted no time in hauling the twin doors open, looking curiously at the two AX members as they did so; both had heard the screaming, but neither had wanted to disobey Abel's orders to see what was going on. León's lips were pressed in a tight line as he helped Abel through the doors. "Lock it back up." he gruffly instructed the guards.

"Sir," The guards chorused, and as the younger moved to comply, the older looked to León. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine." the brunette replied. "A little too much communion wine." Without another word, León and Abel slowly made their way down the front steps.

The guard didn't believe that story for a moment, but he let it pass, watching as the two men made their way back down the path toward the city. While the two priests had only earned a few looks as they had passed by earlier, their return trip drew much more attention. People murmured as the two slowly made their way down the sidewalk, pointing at Abel and no doubt speculating as to what might be wrong with him. The priest kept his head down, letting his bangs fall across his face to hide the thin trail of blood that had dried on his face. He could hear the townspeople murmuring, but he paid them little heed, his attention strictly on putting one foot in front of the other and not passing out.

 

 

The climb up the stairs to their room proved to be an experience in itself, Abel's strength rapidly fading the closer they got to the door. León was near to carrying the other man's slighter form by the time they reached their room. Had the priest been by himself, he would have been forced to crawl from the door to his bed, and it was only because León didn't just abandon him at the door that he didn't. Once the two managed to maneuver his almost dead weight over to the bed, he sank down heavily into the mattress with a quiet moan.

León tossed the room key onto the table, the dark-eyed priest having had to search through Abel's coat to find it, before turning back towards the pale-haired man. Abel's eyes were closed, his breathing slow and shallow, lying extremely still, though he didn't seem quite unconscious yet. The brunette knelt down next to the other man's bedside, his eyes flicking over Abel's prone form, concerned. León couldn't remember ever seeing the man look so drained after a transformation. But then again, he said he couldn't control it this time.

The noise of León moving around beside him made Abel make a soft sound, his head lolling toward the dark-haired priest, one pale eye cracking open a sliver. That fuzzy soft blue gaze met Leon's chocolate brown eyes, the concern on the man's face easy to see. "León...are you...all right?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

"I'll...I'll be all right. I wasn't in any kind of shape to sustain such a high level of power for very long," Abel whispered.

"It was long enough to almost scare the hell out of me." The other man said.

"I'm sorry..."

"I said almost," León reiterated.

Abel gave a small nod at that. "Still, I'm glad you're all right..."

"You should be worried about yourself, not me."

"I'll be fine...I just need rest..."

León nodded. Reaching out, he gently removed the ivory-haired man's glasses. Folding them carefully, he set them to rest on the headboard of the bed. The gentle attention made Abel smile faintly again and his eyes slid closed as he settled back into the pillow, already mostly asleep. The dark-haired man remained kneeling at his bedside for a bit, his brown eyes on Abel's sleeping face. As Abel drifted off into sleep, his expression eased, almost peaceful in spite of the experience he had just been through.

Straightening, Leon softly stepped away from the priest's bedside and moved towards the window, the panes still open from earlier. Leaning against the frame, he felt the warm sunshine on his face as he mulled over what had happened in the church.

 

 

Abel remained mostly unconscious for the next two days, waking only briefly now and then to take a few sips of water before passing out again. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore, and there was no more blood. He actually seemed to be improving in his unconscious state, and when he finally woke at the end of those two days, Abel felt better, though he was voraciously hungry. That told him that it was the Crusnik that had healed him, the nano-machines repairing him while he had slept.

His recollection of his trip to the church with León was fragmented. He remembered arriving at the church well enough. And he could recall the confrontation with the guards clearly. But everything after he and León had actually entered the church was hazy and indistinct. He had dim recollections of his Crusnik activating, though he couldn't remember having made the choice to do so. He remembered León, his concerned expression. He remembered the dark-haired man lending him strength to leave the church, and then his recollections became clear again alighting most pleasantly on the gentle treatment he'd had before the exhaustion had stolen him into darkness completely.

Still unsure as to just what had happened to Abel, León had stayed with him over the course of the two days, leaving the other man only when he had to, and then only for short periods of time. The dark-haired man had even forgone doing any work on their investigation, not wanting to leave his partner alone in case the strange occurrence happened again. It didn't, and it also meant that León was nearby when Abel woke, and levered himself up on one elbow.

Seated at the small table under the window, León had his back to the other man, his chin resting in his palm as he looked out the open panes, a slight breeze ruffling the light curtains as well as the brown-eyed man's long mane of hair. Sitting on the table in front of him was a half-empty carafe of dark red wine, an empty glass next to it. Abel shifted himself slowly into a full sitting position at that, his robes rustling softly as he moved. Despite his attention being drawn somewhere else, León's warrior-honed instincts and reflexes immediately zeroed in on the slight sound, the big man nearly spinning in his chair, prepared to launch himself out of the chair if need be. Abel blinked at that, his hands starting to come up as if to defend himself. "Abel..." The big man said softly, relaxing back into his seat.

"Just me," Abel agreed softly, nodding.

"How're you feeling?" León asked.

"Better...famished, but better." Abel sat up, and put his head to his forehead as a small wave of dizziness passed

The other man started to rise from his chair. "Are you sure you should be sitting up?"

"Yes...I'm just a little woozy. Low blood sugar and all," Abel explained, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, waiting for that short wave of dizziness to pass. León finished rising to his feet, the dark-haired man moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once I've eaten something, I should be fine," Abel murmured, then looked to the man. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Two days."

Abel's eyes widened in shock at that, and he looked at Leon in amazement.

"You came to a few times," the other man continued. "But I don't think you were really conscious."

"I don't remember waking up very clearly...except for once...have you been standing vigil over me this entire time?"

León shrugged. "I didn't want you weirding out again."

"...Thank you."

The dark-haired man shrugged his broad shoulders once again. Abel fell silent at that, and lowered himself back down into the mattress again. "We're going to be horribly behind in our investigation..."

"Wouldn't be the first time." León said with a small smile.

"And I suppose it's not like we can't make up for the lost time," Abel replied with a weak smile of his own.

"Working our butts off in triple time."

"Wouldn't be the first time, as you said," Abel said. "We've still got the upper floors of the church to check, at least..."

"You want to go back there?" León asked.

Abel nodded. "I think we should. We weren't anywhere near done looking it over before."

"Another two days of those corpses rotting away...man, that's asking a lot of even me." The brown-eyed man grimaced.

"You could always head into town, talk to whoever found the church like that...any witnesses Lady Catarina may not have known about and the like."

"While you do what?"

"One of us needs to finish checking through that church, León," Abel said. "I can if you'd rather not."

"You going off by yourself might not such a good idea." León said. "Especially after what happened."

Abel had to nod at that; there was something to León's logic, especially since Abel still didn't have the faintest idea what had caused the oddity to begin with. The brunette man scrubbed a hand through is long dark hair. "Then I guess we stay together."

"I suppose we could request to have the bodies removed before we go back," Abel murmured. "I'm sure the townspeople have been waiting anxiously for the chance to attend to their dead."

"What's left of them." León said grimly.

"...Yes," Abel admitted, nodding.

"So we hit the church, the local authorities...anything else?"

"Nothing that comes right to mind," Abel said, draping an arm over his eyes.

"You look like you're going to pass out again." León's dark brown eyes watched the other man.

"I need to eat soon."

"I'll go out and get you something." The brunette offered.

"If it's not too much trouble," Abel said, and smiled a bit. "Much easier than taking me out to it, I suppose."

"If I have to keep carrying you over the threshold, rumors will start flying."

"Likely they already have," Abel replied with a weak smile.

León snorted. "They all think you're the new town drunk."

Abel was silent at that for several long minutes before he replied. "Well...better that than knowing the truth..." he finally murmured.

The dark-haired man fell silent as well for a short time. "Let me go get some dinner." he said as he rose to his feet.

"Thank you," Abel said, grateful for the excuse to leave his other train of thought behind.

"Why don't you try to rest some more while I'm gone?"

"I think...I will," Abel said, nodding.

León's dark gaze rested on Abel's prone form for a few moments before the broad-shouldered man turned away and made his way to the front door of their room.

 

 

Abel resumed his dozing for a time after León departed, but never quite managed the same deep sleep he had during the last two days. He still felt dizzy, but attributed this to simple hunger. Although he was still feeling a little shaky, he managed to sit up and stay there. He had hoped that, once he had been awake for awhile, it might get easier to stay upright, and he wanted to be so when León returned. Although the man hadn't said anything, Abel could tell he had been worried, and he didn't wish to exacerbate that worry if he could help it. Especially since he had no way of explaining just what had happened.

 

 

 

 

 

Out on the street, León took a bit of time checking out the various food stalls and cafés around their hotel, though he had become fairly familiar with some of them over the past two days while Abel had been unconscious. Though originally from Moroccan territory of Hispania, much farther south, this was the first time that León had been back to the country of his birth since Catarina had arranged to have his sentence mitigated to imprisonment instead of death, and it felt a bit odd. The familiar smells and sights, while not exactly like those of his hometown, were similar enough to make him feel an unexpected pang of homesickness. But there was nothing left for him in Hispania, everything that he once held dear gone either into the arms of God or the care of the church, leaving him only the AX.

Abel wished he had known how long León had been gone, concerned for the man. He wondered if León had been as uncomfortable with the idea of this mission as Abel himself was, if for very different reasons.

In truth, León had taken the news of the assignment with a somber face, Wordsworth having come to make the offer instead of Abel, which was in itself unusual. The other man had not had to press León very hard to agree, the former Moroccan more than ready for some time out of prison despite his intended destination. Eventually León retraced his steps back towards the hotel, stopping along the way to purchase several things, the broad-shouldered man laden with a large bag as he quietly opened the door to the room he was sharing with Abel, having taken the key from the pale-haired priest as well as his coin purse.

Abel looked over toward the door as León entered the room. "Welcome back," He said softly.

León was a bit surprised to see the other man up. "Sorry I took so long." He said as he moved to set the bag down on the table, pushing the wine carafe and glass out of the way.

"It's all right. I didn't really know how long it had been, since I was asleep for some of it."

"I brought you some food." The dark-haired man began to unpack the bag, taking out several cartons as well as a glazed terracotta jug.

"No live coals masquerading as a meal again, right?" Abel asked, a little wary of the food after his last experience with it.

León chuckled. "More like glowing embers this time." In actuality, León had chosen items that were more bland and light, suspecting that Abel more than likely wouldn't be ready for a heavy meal.

"I'm not sure whether to thank you or call you a sadist," Abel said, but smiled to temper the words. "Seeing as how you were kind enough to go get the food, I think I'll settle for the former."

"There's some tea in the jug." The broad-shouldered man starting opening the containers on the table. "Be careful with it though." he said. "I had to leave a deposit on it." Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a plain glazed cup and held it out to Abel. "The mug too."

"Thank you," Abel said, slowly shifting to the edge of the bed, and putting his feet down on the floor.

León looked at the other man for a moment before turning back to the table. Gripping the edge of the tabletop, he pulled it closer towards the bed. Abel blinked at that, and smiled a bit. "You didn't have to do that, you know," He said.

The brown-haired man shrugged his shoulders and reached to pull one of the chairs over before resuming the unpacking. The dishes that León had brought included a seafood soup with shrimp and scallops, a loaf of fresh baked bread, and a local staple, rice, which had been lightly seasoned. There was nothing in the meal that smelled dangerous, and as hungry as Abel was, he found the scents to be very pleasant indeed. "You really did ease up this time around," he said softly.

"You were such a lightweight the last time." León sat down at the opposite side of the table, the dark-eyed man shrugging off his overcoat, leaving it to hang sloppily over the back of the chair.

"Just because I don't drink molten lava on a regular basis doesn't mean I'm a lightweight," Abel said, smiling a bit.

The other man chuckled. "You'd rather drink melted sugar."

"I've already told you, that's hardly my fault," The priest looked a little indignant. "I have to keep my blood sugar up, after all."

"Yeah, yeah." León pushed a fork and spoon towards the pale-haired man.

Abel let it go, smiling a bit to himself; this kind of banter was something he had missed terribly since his last mission with León, and it felt comfortable, and familiar. The broad-shouldered man reached for the bread and tore of a hunk of it before dipping it in his container of soup, letting it soak up the tomato-based broth before taking a hearty bite. Abel took a piece of the bread himself, deciding it would probably be the best way to ease himself into the meal, lest his body rebel at a two day fasting, however unintentional it had been.

León dug into the meal heartily not having had anything to eat yet that day. Though a bit blander than he would have liked, the soup was hearty and filling, the dark-eyed man unobtrusively glancing at Abel as he ate to see how the man was faring. He seemed to be doing all right, working through the food slowly but steadily, pausing now and again to appreciate a new flavor. When he was certain his hands would be steady enough, he poured a mug of the tea and sipped it quietly, feeling decidedly better than when he had woken up. Satisfied with what he saw, León refilled his wine glass, emptying what was left in the carafe. "We should go back to the church, or at least to the local authorities, tomorrow," Abel said thoughtfully, glancing out and noting the dimming sky. "I'd rather have better light before we go back in." The other man nodded as he took a drink. "Have you sent any word in to the Vatican? They might get worried if they haven't heard anything."

"No." León replied. "There really wasn't much to report, except what happened to you; and I wasn't really sure how much of that you wanted them to know."

"Nothing yet," Abel admitted. "Not until I can determine what happened."

"You know what they say, no news is good news."

"Let's hope they see it the same way," Abel said, and smiled a bit. "Hopefully we'll turn up something to report tomorrow."

"And if not?" León's brown eyes rested on the pale-haired priest.

"Then we'll report in and tell them we have nothing to report," Abel replied. "I don't want to worry Lady Catarina or the others. Not after last time."

The broad-shouldered man nodded. "Feeling better?" he asked after a few quiet moments.

"Decidedly so," Abel replied, nodding. "Thank you again. For all of this."

León shrugged. "No big deal."

Abel only nodded at that; he knew arguing with the man about it would be pointless, and he didn't want to try. It still meant a great deal to him that León had cared for him. The dark-eyed man pushed the now empty soup container away from him. Reaching for his wineglass once again, he twirled it between his fingers before putting it to his lips and draining the last mouthful. It wasn't often that he was allowed the luxury of enjoying good wine. Abel took a sip of his tea, and looked at León for a moment, before a thought struck him. "Why is it you're the one who's had a glass of wine in your hand since we arrived, but I ended up the new town drunk?"

León grinned. "I'm not the one who was stumbling down the street like he had just raided the communion wine."

"I'm not the one telling people I was, either," Abel replied wryly, remembering that little snatch of conversation between the dark-haired man and one of the guards.

"It was either that or the truth. Take your pick."

Abel nodded. "I'm not faulting the wisdom of the choice."

"Look on the bright side," León said. "There are a lot worse things people could think you were other than a drunk."

"The obvious answer to that aside, like what?"

The other man thought for a moment or two. "That you were infected with some contagious disease?" he offered up.

Abel considered that. "Touché." Leon only smiled. Abel smiled a little back. "I must be off my game," He murmured. "You've been able to out-argue me far too often."

"Getting slow in your old age?"

"Says the man who calls me 'Junior'," Abel said and grinned. "So if I'm old that makes you, what, ancient?"

León snorted. "I'm in the prime of my life."

"So you say," Abel said, unable to help but poke a little fun at the man; it wasn't often he was able to provoke him thus.

"So I know."

"And just how do you know that? Carrying me hardly qualifies as a feat."

"No," León agreed. "But keeping up with you sometimes does."

Abel chuckled. "I suppose there's something to that." The brunette raised his eyebrow at the pale-haired man. "What?"

León snorted and shook his head. "Never mind." he replied, with a slight chuckle.

"What, all I'm saying is..." The priest trailed off. "You weren't speaking in a general sense, were you?"

The other man's chuckle segued into laughter. That was all the answer Abel needed, and he flushed. León smiled at the reaction, the brown-eyed man always quite pleased with himself whenever he could pull a blush from the priest. "You're incorrigible."

"Tell me something we don't both already know." The dark-eyed man's smile slid into a roguish looking grin.

Abel chuckled softly, averting his gaze a little as he waited for the blush to fade again. León chuckled as well before pushing his chair back and rising to his feet before he started to clean up the table, tossing the empty food containers into the bag that he carried them in. Eventually settling back with his tea comfortably in hand, Abel looked up once the blush had faded, watching León as he worked.

It didn't take León long to get everything cleared away, the only remaining items on the table being his empty wineglass and carafe and the earthenware jug containing Abel's tea. After leaving the bag in the hall for the hotel staff to take care of, he then returned to move the table and chair back to their place under the window. Abel watched him, waiting until the table and chair were in place again before he spoke. "This is unusually domestic of you, León," he said, his tone light. "It's not a side of you I'm accustomed to."

"When you live in a place that's twelve by twelve," the dark-haired man said. "You kinda get in the habit of wanting to keep things clean."

"Hm ...something to that, though I hadn't meant it quite that way," Abel murmured softly.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I probably would've left it for you to take care of."

Abel shook his head a little, but smiled faintly and looked at the man. "I appreciate all you've been doing for me. This was not how I'd intended to start our investigation here."

"Hopefully we can get back on track tomorrow before Catarina sends somebody out after us." Leon said as he looked down at the priest.

Abel nodded. "Yes. If something...odd happens again, I'd rather not have Tres, or worse Hugue, here to see it."

The dark-haired man nodded in agreement. "Tres would be more likely to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Precisely." Abel stood slowly as he finished speaking, making his way with careful steps over to the table to refill his tea. "And really, Hugue isn't much better."

"I still can't get that place out of my mind." León said as his brown eyes followed the pale-haired man's movements. "It was just so ..." he shook his head. I've seen victims of rogue vampires before, but...that was even beyond that."

Abel nodded, setting his mug down carefully on the table and laying his hand on the surface of it to steady his balance. "This isn't like anything I've ever seen before," he said. "This goes beyond a rogue...even a group of them...it's like the Methuselah went berserk."

"But it still goes back to why."

"If it had happened anywhere else, I might have guessed starvation. But this goes even beyond what I've seen when a vampire is driven to desperate straits..." Abel was thoughtful as he refilled his cup, his movements slow, ever mindful of the pottery León had put the deposit down on. "Especially among church-going Methuselah..."

León nodded. "But in a place like this, you should be able to get blood substitute in just about every corner store."

"That's what I mean," Abel said, nodding. "As close-knit as this place seems to be, it would seem like the church would step in to help even its vampire members if they fell on hard times. So this...this makes no sense...and the only thing I can think of is that it has something to do with the oddness that cropped up while we were there."

"With what happened to you."

Abel nodded. "It's just a gut feeling. I can't back it up with anything concrete, but it's what I think."

León looked thoughtful for a few moments before he spoke again. "Do you think it could be some kind of virus? Something that accelerates the virus that the Methuselah already have?"

"Anything is a possibility," Abel replied. "But how could something like that be administered? It's not like the vampires can take communion..."

"I don't know," the other man said. "How do people usually get sick? Touching hands or something that somebody who is already sick has touched. You make it sound like it was on purpose."

"I suppose that is assuming a bit much," Abel admitted, looking a little sheepish. "I suppose it's hard to look at something like that and not feel like it is...another gut feeling, I suppose."

"All these gut feelings, you're going to give yourself a bellyache."

Abel chuckled softly. "And wouldn't that round out my day nicely?" He asked, before wavering a little, his hand going to his head as the room tilted.

"Abel?" León stepped towards the pale-haired man.

"I'm all right," Abel said, leaning back against the edge of the table just a little. "Just...a little light-headed."

"Maybe you better lay back down."

"Yes...I think I should," Abel murmured, pushing slowly away from the table and taking an unsteady step back toward the bed.

"Here... León slipped his arm around the priest's slim waist.

Abel leaned a little against the other man gratefully. "...Thank you," he murmured. The dark-haired man gently maneuvered Abel back towards the bed, and Abel shook his head. "I suppose it was wishful thinking to hope one meal would be enough to fix this..."

"You look better than you have the past two days anyway."

"Decidedly less like a corpse, I'm sure."

"If you hadn't been breathing..." León helped the ivory-haired man sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Sorry if I gave you a spook," Abel said, looking up at León over the top of his glasses as he got settled.

"Maybe just a little one." The other man said as he met the priest's china blue gaze.

Abel reached up, touching León's cheek gently. "Forgive me?"

León covered Abel's hand with his. "I suppose you owed me one for what happened with the airplane on the way to Never Land Island." he said with a small smile.

Abel chuckled quietly. "I suppose I did, at that. Scaring me like that..."

"I guess we're even."

"For now."

Bending down, León titled his dark head as he leaned in closer to press his lips to Abel's, who exhaled a quiet sound at that, his eyes falling closed as he returned that gentle kiss. The kiss didn't linger on too long before the dark-haired man broke it. "You should lay down." he said as he pulled back so that he could look at the priest's face.

"Would you...come lie with me for a little while?" Abel murmured.

"Only a little while?"

"At least," Abel said. "Though I wouldn't argue a bit if it were longer."

"Well I am kind of getting tired of sleeping in the chair." León said.

"You've been..." Abel shook his head. "Of course...you had to make sure I wasn't going to have another...episode." He smiled a bit. "Let me ask this a different way. Come to bed with me? I think we could both use the rest."

"I like that invitation much better." León ginned a bit as he rose to his feet.

Abel laughed softly at that, and nodded, reaching up to remove his glasses. The brunette stepped away for a few minutes to undress before softly padding back over towards the bed. Abel, in the meantime, was in the process of stripping off his robes as well. León had been kind enough to do away with the most uncomfortable layers, but he had no intentions of sleeping in his uniform another night if it wasn't necessary.

Sliding into the bed, León lent the priest a hand, the two of them quickly divesting the ivory-haired man of his remaining clothing, tossing it into a pile on the floor, he and Abel having both brought extra clothing in their travel packs. Once he was free of the restrictive clothing, Abel settled back into the mattress, immediately scooting closer to León. The brunette pulled the covers up and over them before settling down and slipping his arm around Abel's waist, pulling the pale man closer until the priest's back was pressed up against his chest.

It made Abel exhale a soft, contented sigh, the slender man comfortable and basking in the warmth that always seemed to radiate off the man like a small sun. He shifted around just a little bit until he lay more comfortably spooned with León, the good meal and favorable company already lulling him into a drowsy state. León laid quietly, listening to his partner's soft breathing. Only when he was sure that Abel had fallen asleep did he allow himself to do the same.