The Vatican became comfortable when he recognized the look in Carl's eyes as affection.
The friar never stopped teasing or chiding the monster hunter, but he took it with better grace when he realized Carl genuinely liked and trusted him.
He found himself becoming more careful in the field, lest an injury or worse prevent him from getting back to Rome. And every time he returned, he could read the relief in the friar's face, as those eyes darted over him, seeking assurance all was well.
It seemed natural to regale Carl with the tales of his adventures. Harder but still somehow comforting, he found himself confiding those memories of his past that he still possessed, and Carl never questioned the truth of those memories. Hardest yet was to confess
his feelings of guilt over his actions, but Carl never judged him, or tried to lessen the pain with trite words of Catholic dogma. And the
night when Carl finally wrapped his arms around him and held him, offering true compassion, soul to soul, the Vatican became home.
Soon, he began finding things to bring back to Carl. Books, photographs of cities, once the claw from a gargoyle, these things he
took back to Rome, and he felt pleasure in seeing Carl's delighted expression, and patiently answered a thousand questions each time.
He felt elation when Carl handed him the silver crucifix, for luck Carl said. He wore it faithfully ever after. It saved his life
from a vampire in Berlin, a young one who hissed and retreated before the sight of it. Still, he limped back to Rome after that adventure terribly wounded, and Carl sat beside him night after night while he recovered. When he finally looked up at the friar in the pale light of a candle one midnight, and asked why Carl would forsake the lab and all the inventions for his sake, the friar smiled wistfully, and said,
"Can you not guess?"
The Vatican became Heaven when he recognized the look in Carl's eyes as love.