[This is an awkward, embarrassing thing for a mother to be admitting to her son, of all people, but here she is, and so it goes. She leans heavily against him, holding on as if seeking his support and his warmth.]
...Do you want to see him? If we were able to visit you again.
[Awkward, maybe. But honest. And utterly unsurprising, because his parents were practically on top of each other most nights Alucard remembers. It was ridiculous, still is when he reflects on those memories, but it also defined them.
The question isn't an easy one to answer.]
I think that'd need to be a very, very long dream.
[Which is not to say no, but it would be much messier than this.]
It's as much you as it is me, I think. I'm loath to try to explain it without proper evidence, but my guess is that it's some sort of psychic resonance. Likely in a similar vein as the way you call your sword to you, only here what you've pulled is...me.
[She shrugs a little, though her mood does seem to perk up a touch at the prospect of scientific theory.]
Is there anything different about tonight, from what you do normally?
I should say not. Between your Sypha all but melting the castle's traveling machinery, your Trevor's response to a present threat being to immediately punch it in the face, and your own irrepressible flair for the dramatic, I'd say the three of you are a well-matched set when it comes to a lack of subtlety.
[Not that she's one to talk; obviously he gets at least half of it from her. But still, objectively speaking, the point stands.]
Hm. I wonder where my own lack of understanding comes from. What a mystery this is.
[There's a moment where he pulls away, just to put a finger to his lips and tap it thoughtfully. A great problem. Nay, the greatest. But then that actually becomes a serious gesture.]
We're trying to reverse it. Safer that way. And...
[Things shift again. Something dims just beyond the two of them, and Alucard hisses. Not yet. (It's morning, isn't it? He needs to get started on breakfast.)]
[She noticed it too — perhaps even more acutely than he did, being that she is in some ways subject to the whims of his dreams in a way that he isn't.]
You might find some help in our old room. A few pages, somewhere, about the nature of the castle — your father wrote them for me early on. Not that I could've ever moved it on my own, but...well. You of all people know it's more than just a machine. It was supposed to help me better understand it, if I ever needed to ask something of it. Between you and Sypha, it might help you make some progress.
I'll...I'll look. I haven't gone in there in for a time [he's absolutely locked it] , but I'll find it.
[He'll take Sypha and Trevor with him. He'll need them both. And he hopes that they'll both be in bed when he wakes, as he'll need them for that too. There's something dark and wretched starting to rise up in his throat and he fights it back down.
This entire dream has been happiness. No tears permitted.
He squeezes his mother again. One last time. A real good-bye this time.]
I love you, Adrian. I know you'll never forget...but still, never forget that.
[He hugs her tight, and she hugs him back; she can tell, now, that the instant he relinquishes her even a fraction she'll start to slip away, but there's still just enough chance for her to raise herself up and draw him a little bit down, and let him feel the touch of her lips against his forehead.]
My boy. I won't tell you not to weep for me. But try to find a smile for each tear you shed, too.
[There's words said. Muffled, but they're said, and then there is the waking world. (I love you or I'll try. Maybe both.) Alucard doesn't shift much in his sleep (which was deeply unnerving when all of this began), but it has some advantages. Like the fact it means there's a 99% chance of Sypha's head being tucked neatly under his chin still.
There's sunlight in the room. That much is clear before Alucard even opens his eyes. He can feel it, and that's odd because usually he is the one to open the curtains.
Wait.
His eyes flutter open, wondering if he's actually slept the latest of the three for the very first time in ever.]
[The first tragedy: Sypha is not, in fact, still under his chin, as this appears to be the 1% of the time when he has been foiled in his estimation. It appears she has, however, sought to make amends in her absence, if the fact that he seems to have wound up with a pillow nestled in his arms and tucked under his chin in a similarly Sypha-ish way is any indication.
The bedroom is empty. The castle is silent. The windows are allowing in a healthy amount of sunlight and —
Actually, scratch that, the castle isn't silent.
Because there, distantly, is the sound of Sypha's voice, a little urgent and faintly chiding — It is not going to be much of a surprise if it's too burnt to put on a plate!]
[Well. Waking up in this bed alone is a new experience. Deeply worrying as well, as Alucard pulls himself up out of the blankets that have since been piled atop him, and neither of the two are even in the same room.
He doesn't hear anything until he's in the hallway, suspecting that if the two are anywhere, it may well be the kitchen. Maybe they're just waiting for him to show up, or at least that's the assumption until he hears Sypha's voice and...
...oh God, they're trying to cook.
Maybe it's a stupid use of vampire speed. No, scratch that, it's a stupid use of vampire speed, but Alucard's in the door frame of the kitchen within seconds, unsure what to expect.]
— sure you're supposed to turn them over before the edges start to — Alucard!
[Okay, well, that was terrifying, one second there was nothing in the door and now suddenly there is a bae in the doorway, looking beautifully sleep-rumpled and handsome and bite-able.
And meanwhile here in the kitchen there is Trevor, burning the living daylights out of what were probably supposed to be a pan of fried eggs, and Sypha hovering nearby to presumably Armchair Iron Chef this travesty.]
Good morning. Thank you both for getting the fire started.
[Because advanced wood burning stove technology or just 15th century hearth fires, the fire part's important.
Just as important is the smell. A smell that's deeply offensive, based on how Alucard's nose just recoils once a whiff of it hits him. Walking in and peering over Trevor's shoulder reveals exactly what happened and you know what?
He's not going to question any of this. It's hardly the point.]
[Trevor grumbles something along the lines of you can go back to bed and stop spoiling the fucking surprise, but there's no particular teeth in the remark, just the sort of vague irritation that's probably more directed at the eggs than at Alucard himself.
Sypha, on the other hand, is not content to start her day without her mandatory morning hug, and this seems like as good of a time as any to get it, so over she goes, walking pretty much directly into Alucard's side with expectant deliberation.]
It's not like you to sleep so long, so we thought you might not be feeling well...
That cat is so firmly out of the bag that I don't think the bag exists anymore. Please just. Take that pan off the stove before the egg becomes a part of it, please.
[Cast iron cannot be killed but leave it to a Belmont to try. Either way, Sypha's got a point. The side hug becomes a proper one after just a moment of shifting around, and there's a soft dhampir kiss to the top of her head too.]
I'm fine. I was simply having a much needed conversation.
[Is he smiling at some weird inside joke? Sure is. And looking a bit too sentimental about it as well.]
With your pillow? I never knew you were one for pillow talk, Alucard.
[So long as Sypha is getting her hug, all is right with the world. Except for the part about Trevor making one last valiant effort to gouge the egg off of the surface of the skillet before surrendering to the inevitable and dumping the whole thing into the dishpan instead, smoking egg refuse and all.]
[It's on fire, Trevor insists with the matter-of-fact certainty of someone who has absolutely no idea what he's talking about. You put things that are on fire in water. Then they're not on fire anymore.]
We're not defeated! We're just, um. Still developing a strategy!
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[This is an awkward, embarrassing thing for a mother to be admitting to her son, of all people, but here she is, and so it goes. She leans heavily against him, holding on as if seeking his support and his warmth.]
...Do you want to see him? If we were able to visit you again.
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The question isn't an easy one to answer.]
I think that'd need to be a very, very long dream.
[Which is not to say no, but it would be much messier than this.]
How are you managing this anyway?
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[She shrugs a little, though her mood does seem to perk up a touch at the prospect of scientific theory.]
Is there anything different about tonight, from what you do normally?
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[He shakes his head no. Nothing else unusual at all.]
I suppose it'll have to be done again. To prove or disprove the theory.
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[her son has a boyfriend AND a girlfriend and what better reaction can there possibly be than "yeah that's right get it boy".]
Have you been missing me moreso than usual?
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[Please. This is embarrassing. Let him die.
Or just go and be serious again, that'll do it. Alucard pauses, wondering how much his mother saw of that....scrape.]
Something along those lines, I suppose. [If he has to almost burn at the stake for this to happen every time though, there's going to be problems.]
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[She leans on him, a little more heavily.]
And you needn't Mother me. If you're going to keep a pair of lovers, you'd best get used to people remarking on ordinary facts about them.
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[That weight is nothing at all. He's happy for it. That it is there only makes Alucard smile, even as he's dealing with this particular topic.]
Beyond Sypha's people, no one's aware and they're not my mother.
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[She can't actually see his smile, the way they're currently positioned, but she knows it's there anyway. Mothers.]
The Speakers are aware of it, though, are they?
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[So there are no village gossips. But Sypha's people well...]
...None one of us are known for our understanding of the concept of subtle.
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[Not that she's one to talk; obviously he gets at least half of it from her. But still, objectively speaking, the point stands.]
It really is a shame, about the poor castle.
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[There's a moment where he pulls away, just to put a finger to his lips and tap it thoughtfully. A great problem. Nay, the greatest. But then that actually becomes a serious gesture.]
We're trying to reverse it. Safer that way. And...
[Things shift again. Something dims just beyond the two of them, and Alucard hisses. Not yet. (It's morning, isn't it? He needs to get started on breakfast.)]
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[She noticed it too — perhaps even more acutely than he did, being that she is in some ways subject to the whims of his dreams in a way that he isn't.]
You might find some help in our old room. A few pages, somewhere, about the nature of the castle — your father wrote them for me early on. Not that I could've ever moved it on my own, but...well. You of all people know it's more than just a machine. It was supposed to help me better understand it, if I ever needed to ask something of it. Between you and Sypha, it might help you make some progress.
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I'll...I'll look. I haven't gone in there in for a time [he's absolutely locked it] , but I'll find it.
[He'll take Sypha and Trevor with him. He'll need them both. And he hopes that they'll both be in bed when he wakes, as he'll need them for that too. There's something dark and wretched starting to rise up in his throat and he fights it back down.
This entire dream has been happiness. No tears permitted.
He squeezes his mother again. One last time. A real good-bye this time.]
I miss you so much, mother.
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[He hugs her tight, and she hugs him back; she can tell, now, that the instant he relinquishes her even a fraction she'll start to slip away, but there's still just enough chance for her to raise herself up and draw him a little bit down, and let him feel the touch of her lips against his forehead.]
My boy. I won't tell you not to weep for me. But try to find a smile for each tear you shed, too.
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There's sunlight in the room. That much is clear before Alucard even opens his eyes. He can feel it, and that's odd because usually he is the one to open the curtains.
Wait.
His eyes flutter open, wondering if he's actually slept the latest of the three for the very first time in ever.]
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The bedroom is empty. The castle is silent. The windows are allowing in a healthy amount of sunlight and —
Actually, scratch that, the castle isn't silent.
Because there, distantly, is the sound of Sypha's voice, a little urgent and faintly chiding — It is not going to be much of a surprise if it's too burnt to put on a plate!]
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He doesn't hear anything until he's in the hallway, suspecting that if the two are anywhere, it may well be the kitchen. Maybe they're just waiting for him to show up, or at least that's the assumption until he hears Sypha's voice and...
...oh God, they're trying to cook.
Maybe it's a stupid use of vampire speed. No, scratch that, it's a stupid use of vampire speed, but Alucard's in the door frame of the kitchen within seconds, unsure what to expect.]
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[Okay, well, that was terrifying, one second there was nothing in the door and now suddenly there is a bae in the doorway, looking beautifully sleep-rumpled and handsome and bite-able.
And meanwhile here in the kitchen there is Trevor, burning the living daylights out of what were probably supposed to be a pan of fried eggs, and Sypha hovering nearby to presumably Armchair Iron Chef this travesty.]
...Good morning!
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[Because advanced wood burning stove technology or just 15th century hearth fires, the fire part's important.
Just as important is the smell. A smell that's deeply offensive, based on how Alucard's nose just recoils once a whiff of it hits him. Walking in and peering over Trevor's shoulder reveals exactly what happened and you know what?
He's not going to question any of this. It's hardly the point.]
How can I help?
[PLEASE LET HIM HELP.]
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Sypha, on the other hand, is not content to start her day without her mandatory morning hug, and this seems like as good of a time as any to get it, so over she goes, walking pretty much directly into Alucard's side with expectant deliberation.]
It's not like you to sleep so long, so we thought you might not be feeling well...
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[Cast iron cannot be killed but leave it to a Belmont to try. Either way, Sypha's got a point. The side hug becomes a proper one after just a moment of shifting around, and there's a soft dhampir kiss to the top of her head too.]
I'm fine. I was simply having a much needed conversation.
[Is he smiling at some weird inside joke? Sure is. And looking a bit too sentimental about it as well.]
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[So long as Sypha is getting her hug, all is right with the world. Except for the part about Trevor making one last valiant effort to gouge the egg off of the surface of the skillet before surrendering to the inevitable and dumping the whole thing into the dishpan instead, smoking egg refuse and all.]
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[Having two very different conversations is hard.]
I'll explain in a bit. Should I just let you two accept defeat at the hands of the kitchen and restart all of this?
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We're not defeated! We're just, um. Still developing a strategy!
[Nice save, Sypha, I'm sure everyone believes you.]
The point was that you wouldn't have to cook, though, because you always do...
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* it's funny because it means bread in french
GROANS
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