[Winter settles in earlier than it ought to. It's no matter, not in a castle with heated floors, not when there's a bed with Sypha in the middle and too many blankets to keep out the chill. Truly, the only time it is felt is when going to the greenhouse to ensure all is well there, returning with a small basket of what's needed. Or when Alucard needs to go to the markets to get a few extra staples because he is out of flour for making bread.
There's planning. Of course there's planning. There's sewing to do, there's finally introducing the wolf pack to the other two which goes well. They've suspected that Alucard's pack is human. Trevor's and Sypha's scents are distinct and the wolves have smelt them for some time now. They inter Sara where she ought to be, and there's been no Leon in Alucard's dreams for some time now. The anniversary of Dracula's death goes by with only a momentary dip into the more somber state of of the vampire.
Spring creeps it's way into the countryside. Snows melt a bit more slowly this year. Little promises of greenery poke up through the snow, and the greenhouse may as well believe it to be summer. There's more to do with dates nearing, with...
...with other anniversaries nearing as well. Which is the point of doing this all in May. Alucard's not sure if he catches it first or if Sypha does, but there's a greater quiet from Trevor. Which means only one recourse.
They wait until there's a misty evening. The snows have lingered into early April, and tonight the light rain has created such a blanket. It is, Alucard imagines, how his father wanted the castle to be seen. Shrouded in mist. A new moon overhead, so the sky is so very dark. And in their room there is a fire, there is embroidery the vampire is working on, and there is wondering when Trevor will join them both.]
[ There is work to be done. There is always work to be done. Trevor is very good at finding work to do when he would rather not be in his own company, so much so that a heavy head and sore back may as well be the contents of a bottle these days. His idiot student comes to see him every few weeks, and he suspects it to be less for training these days and more for the fact that he's always sent away with whatever vegetables and leftovers they have to spare because a vampire hunter cannot be just skin and bones. A winter lasting this long means that people are hungry.
The effort to reclaim the castle continues slower now, because he has reached the rooms that Carmilla used as barracks for her soldiers, all full of the personal effects of every vampire in Europe, it seems. Some of it must be taken to the hold and sorted, and he would rather not force Alucard to sort through the things of his own torturers. Some things need to be moved to the old feeding cells, which requires Alucard's absence for a prolonged period (he cannot access the feeding cells via the study, and to the wall must be opened and reclosed, and that is not the work of a few hours), And some of it, shittily enough, is personal enough that it probably ought to be returned. Which is going to be a little awkward, considering the tone of Alucard's last interaction with all of these vampires, but none of them are so unkind to even foes as to deny them old letters from family, pictures of old friends from their days as humans, a wedding ring.
Work makes more work, and even with the garden largely controlled by the late frosts it isn't difficult for him to find things to do. He leaves the bed early and returns to it late and takes his meals at odd times and he doesn't have to think at all. He can do his thinking when this is done, a little way into May, when he can only have better things to think about.
It's late when he returns to the room, already cleaned (which isn't so rare these days, because he's working and work makes him filthy and he likes the bed too much to make it filthy) if not quite as well as he could be. He always misses the fingernails, and there's blood under them. He gives a 'mmph' of acknowledgement and just flops into the bed. ]
[Sypha is in the bed already, reading there rather than near Alucard because he's trying to keep at least some parts of the wedding a surprise. His own clothes, specifically, and some of the finer details of Sypha's dress can at least be kept secreted away until the next fitting. It's rather silly, all things considered, but it means something to him. The plans are known in general but some specifics are worth playing close to the chest.
When Trevor returns, the embroidery gets put aside. Folded neatly, then tucked under one of the pillows in a terrible attempt to hide it from prying eyes. It isn't much protection, but it is something. Alucard makes his way over to the side of the bed that Trevor is on (Sypha is still in the middle), and seats himself at the edge.
Working again. He smells cleaner than work usually makes him smell. Alucard puts a gentle hand on Trevor's side, and for a few moments, says nothing at all. They're still not a year out from the turning, and feeling the motions of breath is still a sacred thing some nights.
[ There's another 'mmph' in answer, at first, and the feeling of muscles moving to relax under his skin at Alucard's touch. And then he breathes out, and it almost seems like he might have just breathed his skeleton out from his body, he falls so soft and boneless against the bed. It takes him a while to respond, because he's tired and this is nice. ]
You should go see your dogs tomorrow.
[ The wolf pack, he means. He likes them, and so that means they're dogs now. ]
[Alucard's long since given up trying to get Trevor to call them wolves. Everything that's dog shaped is Dog. This is the real Belmont family curse, and now he's going to be a part of it as well.
What's far more important is how Trevor just seems to become a pile of nothing at all the minute Alucard's hand is on his side. It's remarkable. Even a year ago, this wouldn't have happened.
He casts a glance over at Sypha. Maybe not tonight. She frowns, because him this relaxed may actually be ideal.
But he doesn't move or even think about nudging Trevor any further for a few more minutes, his hand just stroking Trevor's side. Making him as comfortable as possible.]
Idiot [ His student does have a name, but Trevor never refers to him by anything other than insults among the three of them. ] ran all the way here, yelling that they caught a werewolf in one of the boar traps and he needed me to deal with it before it broke free.
[ He raises an arm lazily, waving it about in a gesture that's probably meant to mean something but that absolutely doesn't. ]
Not a werewolf. Don't know if it was one of yours. [ But, you know, it's rare to find injured wild animals willing to just let someone come up and touch them to get them loose. ] Leg's a little fucked up from pulling against the snare, but it ought to be able to keep it.
[He says it with more weight, because really. Idiot. At dawn he'll go, basket of bandages held in his teeth, and ensure all is well. He has been good about figuring out the traps that others lay (Alucard doesn't use them himself, no need), so this is new and annoying in all the wrong ways.
This angle is terrible, so Alucard inches down further on the bed, until he's where Trevor's head is. (With a foot, the nightstand gets pushed aside so he has more room.) Nudges Trevor's head to his lap instead of the pillow, because this is better. Much better.]
Thank you for letting me know. I'll be out with first light.
[ Lap. Lap is a good place to be. He coils himself around Alucard like a cat, curling so that his knees are settled behind him (Sypha rolls her eyes when his legs encroach into her space, because unlike a cat he is not cat-sized, but pats his knee and shuffles to the side a little). ]
Getting married soon. Think I'm meant to be protecting my virtue.
[ By which he means he's a little too tired for the kind of thing this sort of affection usually leads to. Best to get that out of the way now, avoid disappointing anyone. ]
[It is much harder to gather Trevor up in his arms like this. Which was the plan for about two seconds, but there's too much of Trevor behind Alucard now so that's right out the window.
Alucard's hands still comb through Trevor's hair though, gentle and careful of any knots that may still remain. When he catches them, there's a few moments spent to undo it all, and then his hands return to their work.]
[ He doesn't answer. He's not asleep, this is too nice to sleep though, just enjoying the moment. Because this is not thinking, too, the feeling of Alucard's hands carefully untangling his hair. Sypha struggling to reclaim her part of the bed, eventually just giving up and settling her legs over his. It's all pleasant and safe and none of it is thinking.
He could sleep. That had been the initial plan, just fall into bed and sleep and get up and start again in the morning. But it's- honestly been a little while since he indulged like this, because when he decides that he doesn't want to think that usually comes along with a lot of self-inflicted solitude. Which is a difficult thing to manage when you're in a home with two people you're going to be marrying in a month's time, but he has some talents and being alone even in company is one of them. ]
[They all know each other's moods well by now. They've learned when space is needed, and when space is to be ignored in order to put things to rest in full. This is edging towards where it needs to go, but Trevor's too relaxed at the moment. Perhaps they don't need the game now, perhaps this can all be dragged out through other means.
His hands keep going. Ghost over his cheek as well, since some hairs have scattered there instead.]
[ This is a lie. Literally nothing that Trevor has been working on is time-sensitive save for the garden, which is currently a non-issue, and for this evening spent finding and marking the boar traps so Alucard can let his pack know what to look out for (which is beneficial to all, because the townspeople don't want wolves in their boar traps any more than they do).
He chuckles softly, and Alucard's fingers are brushing over his cheek and it's so soft and gentle after days of nothing of the sort that it's almost unbearable. ]
And look who's fucking talking.
[ FRIENDO YOU'rE MAKING THIS WEDDING SUCH A BIG DEAL WHEN IT DOES NOT NEED TO BE. ]
[He sighs, and one hand slides down, reaching for Trevor's. With him curled up like this, it is a little strange, but he finds that hand. It's profane to do this in bed, but Trevor's much to comfortable, and they have to put this to rest. He moves Trevor's hand to where those terrible teeth were, where they found blood and took what they needed.]
It is profane to do this in bed. Too close, too much contact, too many other things tied up in it (metaphorically, not literally at present) here to work. His legs shift as he struggles to untangle himself from Sypha. Who JUST got comfortable again, but who is being very graceful about this. ]
Let me- floor. Let me floor.
[ Florr is good. Solid. Unemotional. Florr is a blank slate, and feelings don't get caught on florr like they do on bed. ]
[But that's not the point. The point is getting up first so Trevor can roll out of bed. And then giving him a hand up, because the floor probably shouldn't be next to the bed either. Too close, too mixed up.]
[ In front of sofa is a good florr. Treffy likes this florr.
He tries not to think as they head toward the usual place. Because thinking defies the point of the game. There has to be no thought in between the touch and the voicing, because both of them are very good at using thought to minimize things that have happened. Thinking stops this from working, because thought means thoughts like 'it doesn't matter', thoughts like 'I shouldn't worry them, when they've already been through so much' thoughts like 'I can bear this'.
Familiar thoughts to the both of them. There are blankets draped over the back of the sofa this time of year, and Trevor moves them onto the ground to sit down upon. Since vampire usually object to florr so much. ]
[Vampire takes a few pillows too. Even if it means some of his sewing is exposed, a flash of gold against a darker material in the dim light of the room. He'll live. They can't see the whole garment.
Settling on the floor is easy. There's no need to take shirts off for once, it's too cold and the only two scars that matter are not visible. What Alucard does is takes Trevor's hand in his, and he guides it to where it was before.]
I'll go first, unless you object.
[To remind him of how all of this works. And to make it clear how he views these things.]
It's not the easiest thing in the world to take note of, but he's made an effort not to touch there since the incident. It's happened before, because a lot of his recovery was spent in Alucard's arms and it's difficult to have someone's arms around you without the skin of those arms touching you. But he's not done it deliberately, and whenever he's been the one to accidentally make contact there, he's pulled away.
Fuck.
He brushes his thumb over it, over the blood vessel there (he can still remember it. Still picture it. Still feel it against his lips, if he lets himself.). And he's not sure he's ready to hear this. But he's absolutely fucking certain that he doesn't want Alucard to hold back when talking about it, because that would be so much worse. ]
[That avoidance has never escaped Alucard's notice. He's never forced contact until now, because Trevor's recovery? The only thing that mattered. Still the only thing that matters. This is the final step in it. God willing, this is the last time the game ever gets played.]
I gambled everything.
[It's so easy to say, isn't it? In that moment, he didn't know. He couldn't have known.]
I knew so very easily that the fight was the simple part. I knew that there were two people I love that needed two very different things, both key to survival. A moment to gather wits, and food. For the first, it was instinct. For the second, I knew that if I did this, I might make the problem worse. After all, the blood in those veins had enough of Walter in them to potentially compound the problem.
[That was something none of them truly acknowledge, was it? That somewhere, somewhere deep in there, was something far worse than Dracula. Removed only by two generations. Tempered by love and loss. Sitting and sewing a wedding dress.]
I knew the other solution too. The thing that I hate more than anything else, the thing that could compromise my own ability to ensure anyone's survival. I gambled again, and felt every memory stir.
For that gamble, I get to joke about arms instead.
He listens, and he does not apologize. He does not promise that it will never come again. He does not pull Alucard to him and cling to him for dear life. He follows the rules of the game.
(he hurt them. He hurt them both, in every conceivable way, and all because he made a flawed plan. All because he failed at the one thing they trusted him to do.)
Instead he waits for Alucard to finish. Waits a moment longer for him to describe betrayal. Hurt. Anything of the sort. It doesn't come. The whole thing is pragmatic, as it always was. Perhaps there were those things, but that would be a different game. Those aren't the ghosts that need to be chased away. And so he leans in, and he is very slow, more cautious than he has been with anything in his life. He moves toward the place that he tore open less than a year ago.
He stops a fraction of an inch away, waiting so see if Alucard flinches or pulls back, before pressing his lips softly against the crook of Alucard's elbow. And it's the most terrifying thing he's ever done. ]
[There's only a soft hand in Trevor's hair. Yes, it violates all of the rules, but this is more important. Because that injury, that horrifying moment, Alucard has never seen it as betrayal. It hurt, but only because having your entire arm nearly torn off is going to hurt, vampire or human or in between. It was the product of a terrible situation. It was no failing on Trevor's part, not really.
He strokes Trevor's hair gently. Reassuring, because he can sense the fear. It is too palpable in the air.
[ He remains there for a moment before he draws back. It's- it would be a lie to say that it made this all right again. But it's a starting point. And a starting point is what he needs.
And he probably knows what is coming next. He draws back slowly and nods. His turn. ]
[He does not kiss that patch of ashen skin. Neck stuff, even before this, was a No Go on anyone who wasn't Alucard. (He and Sypha indulged when Trevor was not around, and even then, Alucard was so very cautious about it.) A mark of respect, and perhaps an underlying worry about years of being a trained vampire killer spoiling an otherwise lovely evening in bed.
Alucard's fingers ghost over it. He's never inquired if there's sensation on that patch of skin, or if it is well and truly dead, like a destroyed nerve ending. Alucard imagines that he's happier in ignorance.
[ There is no sensation. It had gone back and forth at the time, when he was turning and turning back over and over, and he could feel there for three hours a day. It's- he isn't going to pretend it's not still weird, but it's- he's used to it now, and he can only feel there in nightmares. It being fixed would probably seem fucking scary at this point. ]
Dying has never frightened me.
[ That's- as good a place as any to start. ]
It still doesn't, save for what it would do to the two of you. But- shit, I was starting to think I'd have thirty left in me, give or take. Take, probably. I mean-
[ The alcohol, the years of malnourishment, the near constant habit of getting stabbed with things - he's taken a lot of years off his life already with some truly stupid shit. ]
-but fuck. That was all gone. In an instant. Because I fucked up. And I wasn't scared, but I was- sorry. Sorry that I'd led you both into a stupid fucking trap. That you'd have to do this all without me.
[ There's more, of course there's more. But he has to start somewhere, and the bite is the most sensible place to begin. ]
[The rules mean that Alucard cannot respond. Not properly. Not in a meaningful way. He cannot reach out and take Trevor's hands in his, his husband's hands in his because this is how the game works.
Listening to what feels like prologue, there is no new information. Alucard knew that Trevor's life before them would end him early. Never a doubt. It was amazing he survived for as long as he did, if he was a man of real honesty. Everything else was...it was them, wasn't it? Something beyond just Trevor.
He nods to show he is listening. That he is Following the Rules. And the way his hands twitch make it clear that it is so hard to follow those rules.]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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There's planning. Of course there's planning. There's sewing to do, there's finally introducing the wolf pack to the other two which goes well. They've suspected that Alucard's pack is human. Trevor's and Sypha's scents are distinct and the wolves have smelt them for some time now. They inter Sara where she ought to be, and there's been no Leon in Alucard's dreams for some time now. The anniversary of Dracula's death goes by with only a momentary dip into the more somber state of of the vampire.
Spring creeps it's way into the countryside. Snows melt a bit more slowly this year. Little promises of greenery poke up through the snow, and the greenhouse may as well believe it to be summer. There's more to do with dates nearing, with...
...with other anniversaries nearing as well. Which is the point of doing this all in May. Alucard's not sure if he catches it first or if Sypha does, but there's a greater quiet from Trevor. Which means only one recourse.
They wait until there's a misty evening. The snows have lingered into early April, and tonight the light rain has created such a blanket. It is, Alucard imagines, how his father wanted the castle to be seen. Shrouded in mist. A new moon overhead, so the sky is so very dark. And in their room there is a fire, there is embroidery the vampire is working on, and there is wondering when Trevor will join them both.]
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The effort to reclaim the castle continues slower now, because he has reached the rooms that Carmilla used as barracks for her soldiers, all full of the personal effects of every vampire in Europe, it seems. Some of it must be taken to the hold and sorted, and he would rather not force Alucard to sort through the things of his own torturers. Some things need to be moved to the old feeding cells, which requires Alucard's absence for a prolonged period (he cannot access the feeding cells via the study, and to the wall must be opened and reclosed, and that is not the work of a few hours), And some of it, shittily enough, is personal enough that it probably ought to be returned. Which is going to be a little awkward, considering the tone of Alucard's last interaction with all of these vampires, but none of them are so unkind to even foes as to deny them old letters from family, pictures of old friends from their days as humans, a wedding ring.
Work makes more work, and even with the garden largely controlled by the late frosts it isn't difficult for him to find things to do. He leaves the bed early and returns to it late and takes his meals at odd times and he doesn't have to think at all. He can do his thinking when this is done, a little way into May, when he can only have better things to think about.
It's late when he returns to the room, already cleaned (which isn't so rare these days, because he's working and work makes him filthy and he likes the bed too much to make it filthy) if not quite as well as he could be. He always misses the fingernails, and there's blood under them. He gives a 'mmph' of acknowledgement and just flops into the bed. ]
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When Trevor returns, the embroidery gets put aside. Folded neatly, then tucked under one of the pillows in a terrible attempt to hide it from prying eyes. It isn't much protection, but it is something. Alucard makes his way over to the side of the bed that Trevor is on (Sypha is still in the middle), and seats himself at the edge.
Working again. He smells cleaner than work usually makes him smell. Alucard puts a gentle hand on Trevor's side, and for a few moments, says nothing at all. They're still not a year out from the turning, and feeling the motions of breath is still a sacred thing some nights.
Like tonight.]
Long day?
[They can't be in bed for this.]
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You should go see your dogs tomorrow.
[ The wolf pack, he means. He likes them, and so that means they're dogs now. ]
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[Alucard's long since given up trying to get Trevor to call them wolves. Everything that's dog shaped is Dog. This is the real Belmont family curse, and now he's going to be a part of it as well.
What's far more important is how Trevor just seems to become a pile of nothing at all the minute Alucard's hand is on his side. It's remarkable. Even a year ago, this wouldn't have happened.
He casts a glance over at Sypha. Maybe not tonight. She frowns, because him this relaxed may actually be ideal.
But he doesn't move or even think about nudging Trevor any further for a few more minutes, his hand just stroking Trevor's side. Making him as comfortable as possible.]
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[ He raises an arm lazily, waving it about in a gesture that's probably meant to mean something but that absolutely doesn't. ]
Not a werewolf. Don't know if it was one of yours. [ But, you know, it's rare to find injured wild animals willing to just let someone come up and touch them to get them loose. ] Leg's a little fucked up from pulling against the snare, but it ought to be able to keep it.
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[He says it with more weight, because really. Idiot. At dawn he'll go, basket of bandages held in his teeth, and ensure all is well. He has been good about figuring out the traps that others lay (Alucard doesn't use them himself, no need), so this is new and annoying in all the wrong ways.
This angle is terrible, so Alucard inches down further on the bed, until he's where Trevor's head is. (With a foot, the nightstand gets pushed aside so he has more room.) Nudges Trevor's head to his lap instead of the pillow, because this is better. Much better.]
Thank you for letting me know. I'll be out with first light.
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Getting married soon. Think I'm meant to be protecting my virtue.
[ By which he means he's a little too tired for the kind of thing this sort of affection usually leads to. Best to get that out of the way now, avoid disappointing anyone. ]
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Alucard's hands still comb through Trevor's hair though, gentle and careful of any knots that may still remain. When he catches them, there's a few moments spent to undo it all, and then his hands return to their work.]
Oh, then I am a knight such a task.
[No disappointment at all. Only a soft laugh.]
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He could sleep. That had been the initial plan, just fall into bed and sleep and get up and start again in the morning. But it's- honestly been a little while since he indulged like this, because when he decides that he doesn't want to think that usually comes along with a lot of self-inflicted solitude. Which is a difficult thing to manage when you're in a home with two people you're going to be marrying in a month's time, but he has some talents and being alone even in company is one of them. ]
You're being sappy, aren't you?
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[They all know each other's moods well by now. They've learned when space is needed, and when space is to be ignored in order to put things to rest in full. This is edging towards where it needs to go, but Trevor's too relaxed at the moment. Perhaps they don't need the game now, perhaps this can all be dragged out through other means.
His hands keep going. Ghost over his cheek as well, since some hairs have scattered there instead.]
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[ This is a lie. Literally nothing that Trevor has been working on is time-sensitive save for the garden, which is currently a non-issue, and for this evening spent finding and marking the boar traps so Alucard can let his pack know what to look out for (which is beneficial to all, because the townspeople don't want wolves in their boar traps any more than they do).
He chuckles softly, and Alucard's fingers are brushing over his cheek and it's so soft and gentle after days of nothing of the sort that it's almost unbearable. ]
And look who's fucking talking.
[ FRIENDO YOU'rE MAKING THIS WEDDING SUCH A BIG DEAL WHEN IT DOES NOT NEED TO BE. ]
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[He sighs, and one hand slides down, reaching for Trevor's. With him curled up like this, it is a little strange, but he finds that hand. It's profane to do this in bed, but Trevor's much to comfortable, and they have to put this to rest. He moves Trevor's hand to where those terrible teeth were, where they found blood and took what they needed.]
You have been avoiding the root of the problem.
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Oh, that's what this is about.
It is profane to do this in bed. Too close, too much contact, too many other things tied up in it (metaphorically, not literally at present) here to work. His legs shift as he struggles to untangle himself from Sypha. Who JUST got comfortable again, but who is being very graceful about this. ]
Let me- floor. Let me floor.
[ Florr is good. Solid. Unemotional. Florr is a blank slate, and feelings don't get caught on florr like they do on bed. ]
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You beat me to bed before...
[But that's not the point. The point is getting up first so Trevor can roll out of bed. And then giving him a hand up, because the floor probably shouldn't be next to the bed either. Too close, too mixed up.]
The usual place.
[Florr. In front of sofa.]
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[ In front of sofa is a good florr. Treffy likes this florr.
He tries not to think as they head toward the usual place. Because thinking defies the point of the game. There has to be no thought in between the touch and the voicing, because both of them are very good at using thought to minimize things that have happened. Thinking stops this from working, because thought means thoughts like 'it doesn't matter', thoughts like 'I shouldn't worry them, when they've already been through so much' thoughts like 'I can bear this'.
Familiar thoughts to the both of them. There are blankets draped over the back of the sofa this time of year, and Trevor moves them onto the ground to sit down upon. Since vampire usually object to florr so much. ]
Ready.
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Settling on the floor is easy. There's no need to take shirts off for once, it's too cold and the only two scars that matter are not visible. What Alucard does is takes Trevor's hand in his, and he guides it to where it was before.]
I'll go first, unless you object.
[To remind him of how all of this works. And to make it clear how he views these things.]
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It's not the easiest thing in the world to take note of, but he's made an effort not to touch there since the incident. It's happened before, because a lot of his recovery was spent in Alucard's arms and it's difficult to have someone's arms around you without the skin of those arms touching you. But he's not done it deliberately, and whenever he's been the one to accidentally make contact there, he's pulled away.
Fuck.
He brushes his thumb over it, over the blood vessel there (he can still remember it. Still picture it. Still feel it against his lips, if he lets himself.). And he's not sure he's ready to hear this. But he's absolutely fucking certain that he doesn't want Alucard to hold back when talking about it, because that would be so much worse. ]
Tell me.
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I gambled everything.
[It's so easy to say, isn't it? In that moment, he didn't know. He couldn't have known.]
I knew so very easily that the fight was the simple part. I knew that there were two people I love that needed two very different things, both key to survival. A moment to gather wits, and food. For the first, it was instinct. For the second, I knew that if I did this, I might make the problem worse. After all, the blood in those veins had enough of Walter in them to potentially compound the problem.
[That was something none of them truly acknowledge, was it? That somewhere, somewhere deep in there, was something far worse than Dracula. Removed only by two generations. Tempered by love and loss. Sitting and sewing a wedding dress.]
I knew the other solution too. The thing that I hate more than anything else, the thing that could compromise my own ability to ensure anyone's survival. I gambled again, and felt every memory stir.
For that gamble, I get to joke about arms instead.
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He listens, and he does not apologize. He does not promise that it will never come again. He does not pull Alucard to him and cling to him for dear life. He follows the rules of the game.
(he hurt them. He hurt them both, in every conceivable way, and all because he made a flawed plan. All because he failed at the one thing they trusted him to do.)
Instead he waits for Alucard to finish. Waits a moment longer for him to describe betrayal. Hurt. Anything of the sort. It doesn't come. The whole thing is pragmatic, as it always was. Perhaps there were those things, but that would be a different game. Those aren't the ghosts that need to be chased away. And so he leans in, and he is very slow, more cautious than he has been with anything in his life. He moves toward the place that he tore open less than a year ago.
He stops a fraction of an inch away, waiting so see if Alucard flinches or pulls back, before pressing his lips softly against the crook of Alucard's elbow. And it's the most terrifying thing he's ever done. ]
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He strokes Trevor's hair gently. Reassuring, because he can sense the fear. It is too palpable in the air.
It needs to be chased away for good.]
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And he probably knows what is coming next. He draws back slowly and nods. His turn. ]
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Alucard's fingers ghost over it. He's never inquired if there's sensation on that patch of skin, or if it is well and truly dead, like a destroyed nerve ending. Alucard imagines that he's happier in ignorance.
His fingers fall away.]
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Dying has never frightened me.
[ That's- as good a place as any to start. ]
It still doesn't, save for what it would do to the two of you. But- shit, I was starting to think I'd have thirty left in me, give or take. Take, probably. I mean-
[ The alcohol, the years of malnourishment, the near constant habit of getting stabbed with things - he's taken a lot of years off his life already with some truly stupid shit. ]
-but fuck. That was all gone. In an instant. Because I fucked up. And I wasn't scared, but I was- sorry. Sorry that I'd led you both into a stupid fucking trap. That you'd have to do this all without me.
[ There's more, of course there's more. But he has to start somewhere, and the bite is the most sensible place to begin. ]
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Listening to what feels like prologue, there is no new information. Alucard knew that Trevor's life before them would end him early. Never a doubt. It was amazing he survived for as long as he did, if he was a man of real honesty. Everything else was...it was them, wasn't it? Something beyond just Trevor.
He nods to show he is listening. That he is Following the Rules. And the way his hands twitch make it clear that it is so hard to follow those rules.]
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