May. 16th, 2017 10:31 pm
esp_dragon: (M-21)
[personal profile] esp_dragon
Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: "Hmm, I did say I would take your tongue, but why should I stop there? Let's start with your eyes."
The last thing M-21 saw was the blade heading straight for his face.
Contains: Blind!M-21
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General
Word count: 2,133
Status: Complete

"Hmm, I did say I would take your tongue, but why should I stop there?"

M-21 glared as the scientist twirled a scalpel between her fingers, the blade glistening green with whatever liquid she'd dipped it in.

Her free hand slammed into his jaw with a crushing grip, forcing his chin up and holding him in place. "Let's start with your eyes."

The last thing M-21 saw was the blade heading straight for his face.

* * *

M-21 waited. His hearing came back. His nose grew back. His tongue grew back.

He waited.

And waited.

His sight finally came back while she was distracted at inspecting the bones in his arms. Watching his muscles reform.

He could make out her hair, but his eyes wouldn't focus, everything a blur.

But it came back, and the dread in his stomach eased. He'd wondered when he would start seeing again since it had taken so long compared to his other senses.

He just needed to wait for his regeneration to finish. He would be fine.

* * *

His sight didn't clear and he squinted at the haze in the doorway. Not the black hair of the scientist, but long light brown hair. Who was wearing white. Shit. Another scientist.

He prepared himself for another round of pain but the scientist didn't do anything, only staring up at him.

She wasn't wearing a labcoat. It was too bulky for that, especially around the neck. A cloak? Like Kentas'...?

A werewolf then. Maybe another one that had helped dragged in the others.

Except she slashed through his restraints in one go and he'd been too surprised to react, his knees cracking on the ground.

And then there hadn't been enough time to do or say anything else, the other scientist returning.

* * *

"You keep squinting at everything."

M-21 gritted his teeth, glaring the space in front of them, willing his eyes to focus. "Habit." It didn't help, everything staying the same fucking blur.

The werewolf scoffed. "How bad is it?"

"What." Was he that obvious?

"Don't pretend — I saw the blood trails from your eyes and I know the signs. How much can you see and how long will it take for you to recover?"

M-21 felt the urge to wipe at the blood on his face. "Why do you care?" he snapped instead. "We need to get out of here." Escape first, then he could worry about his sight.

"I care," the werewolf repeated, "because I need to know what you might miss and tell you about it."

In case he tripped right over it.

M-21 hated being helpless. He hated admitting weakness even more.

"So?" she said. "What can you see clearly?"

Shit. He was wasting their time not telling her. Exhaling, he waved a hand in front of his face. It only became clear a short distance away from his nose. "Nothing," he said with gritted teeth. "My eyes are barely focusing."

He heard her exhale. "Thanks for telling me. Let's go."

The werewolf led the way by a being a few steps ahead; M-21 was glad she hadn't tried to take his hand.

* * *

The night air was cool against M-21's skin and he took in a deep breath, savouring it. Hopefully this time he would stay out for longer. Never return to another lab to be treated like a piece of data was better, but he knew what his shit luck was like.

He stopped when she did, her head twisting around.

"Someone's coming," she murmured, and M-21 strained his senses to find them.

He snapped his head at the sound of two people landing close by. He relaxed at the weight of two familiar auras pressing on his shoulders, seeing a blond blob on one. There was no killing intend coming from them.

"You're late," he wheezed, a relieved smile lifting the corners of his lips.

But he was finally with familiar people.

* * *

M-21 pursed his lips, blinking the spots away made from Frankenstein's penlight. Frankenstein hadn't said anything during the check-up and that was a sign something was wrong. Frankenstein chatted whenever he checked them over, so they would know what was going on in their bodies.

If Frankenstein hadn't said anything, he didn't want to say it out loud before he was absolutely sure.

"I'm blind, right?" M-21 braced himself, his hands gripping the bed, already knowing the answer.

Frankenstein exhaled. "...Yes."

Shit. He hated being right.

"Your lenses are unresponsive. If your body hasn't tried to heal the rest of the damage," Frankenstein said, "this may be its new baseline. We can try a transplant-"

"But my regeneration might attack them or change them back to baseline, right?" M-21 said through gritted teeth. That was why he had to be transfused with his own blood — his body attacked anything foreign.


"Fucking great," M-21 hissed, his hands clenched. He'd survived what had been done to him, but now he was fucking useless to the rest of them. How was he supposed to fight like this?

Rage boiled to the surface, and frustration at himself, that this was what his regeneration couldn't fix. At being strong enough to survive but weak enough that he couldn't shake off the poison like everything else.


"I'm fine." M-21 stepped back. They both knew he was lying out his ass, but this way, Frankenstein wouldn't push.

Spinning on his heel, M-21 left the lab.

* * *

M-21 needed rest. And drink. He'd been injured enough times to know that so he sat on his bed with a small glass of water.

He'd downed the water but he couldn't settle. He was exhausted, but his brain wouldn't stop, replaying what he'd done wrong, what he should have done instead.

If only he'd...

If only he'd...

M-21 sucked in a breath, one hand gripping his hair.

He needed a distraction. Something else to think about.

Reading a book was out the window (like everything else was) and he had no interest in eating anything more.

So training it was.

M-21 swung himself out of bed, ignoring the ache as his muscles stretched, and went down to the lab. He didn't bump into anyone on the way, which wasn't that surprising since everyone was recovering.

He'd gone to the training rooms enough to know the way, even with his fuzzy sight.

He squinted out of habit at the targets on the wall. His sight didn't sharpen as always, and he glowered at them.

Now to take his frustration out on the targets.

* * *

It didn't help. Afterwards, M-21 panted, glaring at the targets. His fingertips tingled, telling him he was at the end of his reserves.

He'd taken out the ones on his level with wide slashes, but he hadn't been on the mark with the higher up ones. That wasn't good enough; he needed to hit exactly where he wanted, especially when everyone wasn't limited to fighting on the ground anymore.

M-21 turned his head at the sound of the door swishing open, nostrils flaring as he caught Takeo and Tao’s scents.

“Yo, M,” Tao said, “it’s us.”

M-21 didn’t stop the growl that rose from his throat, clenching his hands into fists. “So you have to announce yourself now.” Because he was blind.

“We’re approaching your back,” Takeo said, his voice gentle.

“Mm! It’s basic training etiquette — to make sure we don’t startle someone and almost get their head shot off.”

From Takeo’s huff and Tao’s following laugh, that sounded like they were talking from experience rather than a hypothetical situation.

It still felt an excuse to make him feel better.

"...What do you want?" M-21 said, turning to face them as he let go of his transformation. Were they worried he'd gotten lost?

"You weren't in your room," Takeo said.

"We figured you'd be here if you weren't there," Tao added.

He was that predictable, huh... "I needed to do something." Not that that it helped.

"Sooo," Tao drew out, rolling back and forth on his heels, "what's wrong? You're cagier than usual."

M-21 stared at him, which just reinforced hs couldn't see shit since he couldn't see Tao's exact expression.

"I'm blind." Everyone knew when his sight hadn't gotten better by the time they'd returned home — they knew how fast his regeneration was. "I'm useless!"

"Hm..." Tao said, and M-21 recognised that as the hum Tao made when he was making a new plan. "Do you wanna spar with Takeo?"

M-21 spluttered. "Were you listening?" Was what Tao thinking? "You want me to take his eyes out too?" Because that was what was going to happen if they sparred.

"We won't use our claws or guns," Takeo said.

"Yup, just hand to hand," Tao said, nodding.

"That wasn't what I meant," M-21 snapped, and they knew it.

There was no teasing laughter from Tao. "M, we know you won't take anyone's eyes out here, intentionally or unintentionally."

How? How could they know that? How they could they trust him that much?

Takeo didn't refute either and M-21 sighed.

"Fine," M-21 said. They'd spar and they could see how bad his eyes were for themselves.

* * *

M-21 wheezed, staring up at Takeo, the other man pinning him with a hand at his shoulder.

The fight had lasted longer than M-21 expected it to, but it still had the same outcome. His body hated him for the spar, for everything he'd been pushing himself to do. He ignored it, the cold squirming in his gut overwhelming everything else.

Takeo and Tao had to realise how useless he was now after that spar.

Takeo was close enough M-21 could see a smile grow across his face. "Your hand to hand is fine," Takeo said, standing up.

What? "I lost." How was that 'fine'?

"You'd tired yourself out from training earlier," Tao said, walking over.

"And you were holding back," Takeo added.

Of course he'd held back — he hadn't wanted to misjudge an attack and hurt Takeo.

More excuses.

"See?" Tao said, standing next to them by the time M-21 had gotten to his feet. "No eyes taken out."

Tao reached over to ruffle M-21's hair and M-21 batted the hand away with a sigh. It seemed Tao was still the same.

Tao grinned. "Once you were close enough, you could fight Takeo just fine, and you can see enough to block me."

"That's because I know you."

"So if you know it's coming, you can do something about it."

"Right," M-21 said, rolling his eyes. "I'm supposed to predict the future now." Though that wasn't much different from willing his eyes better.

"Or I could become your eyes," Tao said.

"What." He...couldn't have heard that properly. It didn't make sense.

"I could become your eyes," Tao repeated in the same tone.

It still didn't make sense. "How," was all M-21 could say. Frankenstein had said his eyes couldn't be fixed, so what could Tao do?

Tao grinned again. "Your hand to hand was fine, so you just need some direction for your ranged attacks. So close your eyes."

"...I'm blind enough as it is."

"I'm proving a point, M."

M-21 sighed. "Fine." Maybe not getting distracted by where he thought something was would help. He closed his eyes.

"Oookay. Three O'Clock, 60 degrees up," Tao said. There was a brief pause. "Zero being your head, heh."

M-21 had just been about to ask. 3 O'Clock, 60 degrees up... M-21 followed Tao's instructions, double-checking each time.

He summoned enough energy to transform his hand and punched in the direction Tao had indicated. He heard the shriek of tearing metal.

"All riiight!" Tao cheered, M-21 also hearing Takeo clap. "Direct hit!"


M-21 heard Takeo's startled "Tao-!" and opened his eyes in time to catch him as Tao threw himself at him with a laugh.

"See?" Tao said, hugging him tight. "You'll be fine."

M-21 looked over his shoulder to see one of the hanging targets was gone, scattered pieces over the floor.

"But I'll distract you from directing the others," M-21 said, frowning. What good would that be if he needed the extra help?

"Hmph." Tao rapped his knuckles on M-21's head. "You underestimatin' me? I was made to multitask, remember?"

...Oh, right. He was. M-21 relaxed, burying his face in Tao's neck, feeling Takeo's hand grip his shoulder.

"We'll need to refine it, of course," Tao continued, someone's hand stroking M-21's hair, "but the only way we'll be able to do that is if we keep practicing together."

There was a pause and M-21 realised they were waiting for him to respond.

"Yeah," M-21 breathed. They could work this out together. He wasn't as useless as he thought he was.


Written for the anon who asked for blind!M-21.

I'd been considering calling this 'Useless' considering M-21's thoughts about himself and how often he used that, but yeeeeah. That wouldn't have come across well.
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