112. Collection (1/1)

prompt from redrachxo: what if mori hadn't been dusted when sethius rose? how would he react to the events of 4x09? enjoy the angst.

spoilers for everything up to and including 4x09.

disclaimer: oh, if only it were mine. wait - wait, eliseo mondadori aka mori is mine.

vlad himself opened the door, and his eyes narrowed in anger as he recognised the visitor."you.""grandness." mori bowed his head apologetically, knowing that he could lawfully be staked for treason. "i came to collect bertrand." the chosen one sneered unpleasantly at that; clearly he was taking the impending separation from his favourite tutor harder than bertrand had imagined. mori was sure he would be pleased to hear that."i'll go and get him."

the plan had been simple, and arranged by email; bertrand no longer felt safe or wanted at garside, and needed an escape, however temporary. he simply had to find proof of the latest threat on the chosen one's unlife, and then he could leave vlad to deal with it. the chosen one was quite powerful enough to eliminate an enemy, after all – he was just slow to recognise them.

besides, bertrand's email had said, if nothing else, you can help us take it down. it won't be able to impersonate you if it doesn't know you're here. come in a week, if you don't hear from me before then. i should be ready to go.

the week had passed, and here mori was, standing on the doorstep of the school, barely an hour after sundown. vienna would do bertrand good; it always did. admittedly, this time his oldest friend seemed unlikely to indulge in their usual activities, but it was clear that he needed some time away from vlad, time to think, time perhaps to talk it through. from the increasingly frequent messages he'd been receiving, it seemed clear to mori that bertrand's relationship with the chosen one had turned toxic; not only was his love unrequited but his loyalty and intelligence were being doubted.

they'd exchanged a swift rally of emails, seven nights ago, and the first had been a garbled mess.

mori, i've got to get out. he thinkd i'm a traiotr. b

bertrand never allowed an email to go out with a typo, let alone two, and he never used names if he was thinking straight. mori had replied that he could come to vienna, that he would be at garside with an army if bertrand wished it, that he could come alone and pick him up. the next email had been calmer.

i can't leave him unprotected. he doesn't know about the shapeshifter – i just need time to make sure he understands the danger. after that, i'd love to come to vienna. he can deal with it on his own. besides, if nothing else, you can help us...

mori snapped out of his thoughts; the chosen one was back, and he was holding a small box."here you go. you're lucky erin's in a sentimental mood; i wanted them flushed." mori reached out with trembling hands and relieved the chosen one of his burden; the almost weightless feeling of the container in his hands confirmed his worst fears."ashes?""he was a traitor, twice over. don't let me see you here again." the door slammed in his face and mori stood for a long moment, staring at the box in his hands, all that remained of the vampire he had once had such hopes for.

bertrand could have done anything, he could have changed the world; he could have ruled it, had he wished. mori would have loved him no matter what he had chosen to do with his unlife, but he had been so self-sacrificing, so wholly devoted to the service of the chosen one... and it had cost him everything. it had cost them everything. mori could hardly pretend that he had expected to be chosen over the grand high vampire, over the entire focus of bertrand's existence, but nor could he deny that his days had been filled with images of his best friend and sometimes-lover for many years now. he had hoped to show him the glories of vienna anew; they could, perhaps, have travelled together for a little while. it was something they had always said they would one day do, but they'd fallen into the habit of travelling alone and meeting along the way. now they would never have the chance.

the door creaked open and mori's gaze snapped up from the box to fix on the vampire standing there, clutching a familiar case; surely it had all been a joke, a cruel trick. this box of dust contained nothing more sinister than the contents of a vacuum bag. bertrand was ready to go. but it was the

eather who stood in the doorway – not a

eather any more, mori realised – holding out the possessions bertrand had packed."vlad will just have them burned otherwise. i think bertrand would have wanted you to have them." he reached out once more, accepting the suitcase; it was all he could do not to

eak down. "i'm sorry. i couldn't stop him." mori shook his head; he just needed to get out, to get back to vienna, to take what was left of bertrand home. his home was where mori was."thank you," he managed, and took off.

he landed just before midnight, clinging desperately to a box of ashes, a case of clothes, and the sorry remains of his own

oken heart.

and death to my enemies. dracula would pay for this.