[The Hold, the Hold is something Alucard knows. He's landed by the Index, and he frowns. The Hold isn't a place he goes to when he dreams (and surely he must have fallen asleep at some point, he remembers taking Trevor into his arms and kissing the top of his head before asking Sypha for a pillow.) Lately most dreams have been of gentler moments, or...very raunchy, if he's being honest with himself. A kind change of pace from what dreams were just a few months before.
The voices are new. He doesn't recognize any of them, and he moves forward with trepidation.
He's right to move forward slowly. When he catches even a glimpse of that worktable (there's a flash of golden hair, he doesn't have to look harder. Shit. Fuck.) he ducks back behind the bookcase he was using for cover, feeling every part of himself wrench up in a horrible, horrible way.
It's the head injury he lies to himself. Then he refuses to move, not until there's footsteps going in the opposite direction.]
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The voices are new. He doesn't recognize any of them, and he moves forward with trepidation.
He's right to move forward slowly. When he catches even a glimpse of that worktable (there's a flash of golden hair, he doesn't have to look harder. Shit. Fuck.) he ducks back behind the bookcase he was using for cover, feeling every part of himself wrench up in a horrible, horrible way.
It's the head injury he lies to himself. Then he refuses to move, not until there's footsteps going in the opposite direction.]