Awhile ago I mused in a post that Noblesse used Awakenings as other series might use Emergency Transformations. So, what if Awakenings weren't an option in Noblesse, and they had to go with your standard Emergency Transformation instead? Or rather Emergency Contract, in Noblesse 'verse.

Is there such a thing as too many Flashback Era AUs? But there will also be present-day scenes.

Floating in the darkness, he heard a voice call his name.

"Frankenstein," it called. What followed was not an order, but a plea. "We may… we have entered a contract of the soul. Will you bear it for now?"

"Yes," he answered without sound or voice in the darkness, not truly understanding but hearing worry in that voice, and wanting to reassure him.

That moment lingered like a dream (was it a dream?) as he slowly woke up and opened his eyes to find Gejutel and Ragar standing in the room with him. "What happened?" he wondered, sitting up and turning towards them, rubbing his eyes. He still knew where they were without looking at them the same way he could sense the Central Order Knights that tried to hunt him down – he'd copied the noble ability they used to sense each other.

But there were three noble energies in the room: Gejutel's, Ragar's and Raizel's.

He might have turned to see if there was room between his bed and the wall for Raizel to stand, or if the noble was somehow injured enough to fall asleep – but why would they be placed in the same bed? – but no.

He sensed that noble energy emanating from beneath his own skin.

"You were consumed by your weapon," Ragar told him. "We thought that someone would be forced to destroy it before it could attack innocents."

"So he saved me," Frankenstein said, reaching fingers up to his neck. No marks, but he healed too quickly for that. And now he was a contractor.

A vampire.

What had changed besides the noble soul energy mixed with his soul? A thought, and he felt his teeth shift into a too-familiar shape. He wanted them back to normal, and thanked goodness when they obeyed. He couldn't help shuddering. Minor Shapeshifting power, check.

"Are you alright?" Ragar asked, concerned.

He took a deep breath and composed himself. "The Lord advised me to seek a contract with Cadis Etrama di Raizel. I was considering the matter when Urokai accosted me. It will take some getting used to, but I don't begrudge him saving me." A second time, he might have said, but now he knew that the Lord wouldn't have executed him on the say-so of some rumors. "Is he alright?"

Gejutel and Ragar both looked uncomfortable. "You did not harm him," Gejutel said.

So then Raizel must be upset, knowing what Frankenstein thought of the criminals and their contracts. He must be afraid that Frankenstein would think he'd taken advantage. That the only person who stayed by his side might hate him now. "I must go to him," he said, pushing himself up out of bed.

When he entered Raizel's room, he found the noble already settled with a pot of tea. Who had made it? It couldn't be Urokai, the tea actually smelled palatable… was there sugar already in the pot?

Raizel had paid attention when Frankenstein showed him how to make tea? He liked tea enough to stir himself from this room and actually do something? Had he missed the tea while Frankenstein was gone, or had he missed Frankenstein? Frankenstein tried to greet him normally, hoping that the familiarity would comfort the reclusive noble, reassure him that nothing had changed. No: this bond between them would change things, there was no way it could not. It didn't mean that Frankenstein hated him. That he feared him now, the way the clan leaders did.

He couldn't let the way he'd lost control of Dark Spear cause Raizel pain.

"I would like some tea," Raizel said, glancing at Frankenstein.

But Raizel had tea… Ah. Frankenstein relaxed a little, pouring Raizel's tea for him.

After Raizel drank, the noble hesitantly asked the question, "Can you still not control your weapon?" By now, Frankenstein knew Raizel's expressions enough to see the worry. Raizel looked very young right now.

Even though as he wanted to reassure Raizel, Frankenstein had to admit that he couldn't control Dark Spear.

As he waited, hoping that Raizel would become comfortable enough to address the subject of their contract his breath caught in his throat, watching the always-graceful noble lose his grip on fragile porcelain he always handled so carefully, knowing how easy it would be for his strength to reduce it to powder.

The teacup shattered.

Frankenstein's heart almost stopped when he saw blood on Raizel's lips. Impulse made him grab Raizel's shoulders, pull him up so Frankenstein could lick that blood away and swallow it. He didn't understand why his concern for his host made that seem so imperative until he felt his power flowing towards Raizel, trying to heal him. Ah! Yes, contractors could use noble powers, including the power to control others with blood. Tasting Raizel's blood would let his own healing powers act on the noble.

Strange that his first taste of blood as a vampire came not from hunger or rage but the need to help someone. Then again, perhaps it was not so strange at all, when that was the reason Raizel took his blood. Perhaps this was what contracts were meant to be.

Even as he thought this, his tongue reached through Raizel's lips, tasting his mouth and exploring it thoroughly, seeking to drink down every drop of blood. A contractor's purchased powers weren't as strong as the noble's, so he would need all the help he could get to heal Raizel.

The energies he sensed in Raizel also pulsed beneath his own skin now, and as he… As he kissed the noble he felt his own energies reaching into Raizel's body, seeking out the injury. Curling protectively around the noble's energies. Around Raizel's soul.

What he sensed frightened him, and a soft sound of distress passed his lips, still pressed against Raizel's. This could not possibly be normal or healthy; he'd examined enough captive nobles to know that. Raizel was sick.

Raizel pressed against him for a moment, more a nudge with his lips than a motion to return the kiss. He tried to pull away a moment later, but Frankenstein wrapped his arms around him more securely, to support Raizel. With Frankenstein refusing to surrender his mouth, the noble spoke inside his mind. "I am fine," echoed in their new bond, but the emotion that came with it wasn't truth, just the need to reassure Frankenstein.

This noble had taken Frankenstein's blood. He could control him now, and yet he still tried to reassure him with words, still cared about his distress and wanted Frankenstein not to worry. Instead of compelling Frankenstein to serve him, he didn't want Frankenstein to trouble himself.

"Don't worry," he told Raizel. "I will stay by your side until you are well. I will stay by your side eternally, if you will have me."

"This is simply a consequence of the use of my power." Raizel had to pause before continuing, trying to fight for enough composure to find words. The thought entered Frankenstein's mind shyly: "If staying is your will, then this is your home too."

Oh, oh yes, he thought. That was Raizel, was his kindness and innate generosity. "Yes, Master. It is my will."

He felt the flicker of shock and concern, saw it in those warm red eyes.

For Raizel to take that as a sign to be concerned for him, instead of as his due?

"Master of my soul. Master of my heart, oh my Master." He let his eyes slip shut again, let himself truly feel the soul that embraced his own, let himself shudder with the bliss of being held and known and loved. "Yours. Yours until the world ends, and after."

He felt his Master's blushing happiness, and had to open his eyes to see it, even though pulling back from the kiss meant he only heard those hums instead of feeling them. "Do you know the one thing I regret in all this?" he asked softly, feeling melted by the same onslaught of emotion that devastated his Master's elegance. "That I don't remember the moment your fangs slipped into my neck. The moment I became yours. Or perhaps… Perhaps my fate was sealed when you gave me sanctuary and I gave you my name in return. Perhaps that was the moment I gave myself to you." When he'd trusted Raizel enough to remain under a noble's roof, knowing the risk he was taking with his blood, his very soul.

If it was Raizel, when it was Raizel, would it be alright? He'd asked himself that returning from the Lord's castle, already knowing the answer.

"I will take care of you," he promised Master, gathering him to his chest. "I will stay by your side always."

Well. Not every second of every day. Right now he would reassure his master, but then he would settle him with hot tea and fresh cakes, and go interrogate the Lord. If the Lord didn't understand Master's condition, then no one would. Normally Frankenstein preferred to conduct his own investigations since he couldn't trust that what other people believed about a situation or phenomenon had any basis in fact whatsoever, but he would rather not experiment with his dear master's health in any way that could possibly be avoided.

He would need to study the changes in himself, but the first-generation contractors didn't have trouble controlling their powers or their bloodlust. As long as Raizel didn't compel him – and Master never would – this was not a betrayal of humanity. This wasn't… he hadn't sold his soul for power or survival. He'd been given a gift, so that he could live. Because someone wanted him to live, not because they wanted to own him.

His master wasn't in pain now, and Frankenstein wouldn't let him be. He would find a cure for this affliction, as he had so many others.

His Master would live, and Frankenstein would be by his side always.

…Oh? He felt Master's puzzlement now, after a decade trying to learn how to read him.

"I did not bite you," Master explained. "You were already wounded." Care, a flickering memory of concern – Frankenstein was hurt, and Raizel did not like this, the same way Frankenstein didn't like mud tracked all over his lab. The back of his mind grabbing his attention, this was not right, fix it.

A noble who couldn't bear to see him hurt?

He closed his eyes, pressed his cheek to the top of that black head. Master, he thought, feeling himself purr with some strange, primal contentment. He knew he wasn't being made to feel this way – Raizel would never – so why did this bond feel so natural, so right? He would have to ask the Previous Lord more about true contracts: if they were truly an ancient thing, then there might be memory, bred in the bone. The knowledge that this was a wonderful thing. Like love.

No, it wasn't like love. He was loved.

Wrapped around his master, he felt like a cat curled up on someone's lap. Yes; if Raizel were to stroke a hand down his spine, it would be exactly like it.

His Master's hand reached around him, wanting to give him what he wanted, and oh, he wanted to stay here like this. Just like this. Careful fingers sliding down either side of his spine, reading his responses to apply just the perfect amount of pressure. Their souls entwined, in the sunlight pouring through the window.

He didn't move until the light coming in through that window dimmed to twilight. When he surfaced from that peaceful haze, he kissed his master's forehead. "Dinner will be ready soon."

As he closed the door to Raizel's room behind him, he chuckled to himself. How had he not realized something so transparently obvious even the Lord had seen it, well before setting eyes on him? He wasn't a servile person. He wouldn't have catered to Raizel out of mere obligation. He'd cared for this noble because he wanted to. Because it made him happy. No, not 'this' noble. His noble. His dear Raizel. And the contract… the contract did mean that Raizel was truly his now.

Not a sale of souls, but a bond of them.

"Frankenstein," Master said when he returned with the food. Raiz – his Master was turned away from the window when Frankenstein entered, waiting for him facing the door.

"Yes?" he asked, placing the tray on the table and coming over to stand in front of his Master, head bowed.

"I have heard that it is your will to stay by my side, but we have also entered a contract of the soul. Do you consent?"

Frankenstein had absorbed his knowledge of Lukedonia's language from noble criminals: there was something in Master's phrasing that seemed antique, outdated even for nobles. Among humans, older words and languages were often used for law, medicine, ritual. Things where the precise meaning of words was too important to be wagered on the whims of the vernacular.

'Consent' was his mind's best equivalent of the world Raizel used: agreement? Binding agreement, freely given?

Of course he trusted Master, but it was because this was clearly so important to him that Frankenstein had to ask, "What am I consenting to?"

"To this," Raizel told him, raising his power around Frankenstein, reminding him that his soul was wrapped up in Master's. "With your soul bound to mine, and mine to yours. Are you willing to live like this?"

"Otherwise I would have died," Frankenstein reminded him, only to realize in an instant that he'd said the wrong thing when he sensed sadness, all around him. His Master's sadness: his own sadness he could bear, but his Master's ached so, he would do anything to relieve that pain.

"The alternative is not death." Master shook his head. "Do you wish an end to our contract, or would you rather remain like this?"

"I want to remain like this," Frankenstein said, in an instant. "I know that I don't need a contract to remain here. I don't want a contract for the sake of power: if I need more power, I will gain it on my own. I want to stay like this because it's wonderful, Master. I wanted to stay with you, and this is more of you." He smiled. "Maybe it's greedy of me, but I want…" Everything I can get, he hesitated to say, in the face of Master's generosity.

"…It was greedy of me, to enter into a contract of the soul with you without your consent, but I did not want you to die. The thought that there might not be any more Frankenstein…" Raizel shook his head elegantly: an impossibility to find any adequate, noisy words.

Oh, he thought, looking at that face, a bubble of joy rising from the depths of his chest. He felt light. As though his soul shimmered even though he could see that Dark Soul had tarnished it every time he summoned his power.

He went down on one knee. "Sir Cadis Etrama di Raizel," he asked. "Will you do me the honor of entering into a contract of the soul with me?"

Silence, and he paled, suddenly terrified he'd done the wrong thing. He looked up, eyes wide with fear, to see Master's cheeks stained red with a maiden's blush. A small little sound came from his throat, the most exquisite being in existence reduced to making the most endearing little noises.

Frankenstein let out a sigh of relief. He bowed his head again to wait patiently, giving Master a chance to compose himself.

"I accept," he heard finally, and now he was the one to blush, staring upwards with an utterly moonstruck expression.

For him to belong to Master and Master to belong to him?

Oh.

Oh, yes. Always yes.