[ The man's nearly caught up with them when he sets off, and he can see him first give chase and then stand uselessly once it becomes clear that he cannot catch up with them on foot. Safe. They're safe, at least from the immediate threat of the assailant. There's just Alucard's condition to worry about.

He's driving safely. Properly. Following every rule. And that's usually easier to do, even in dire situations. It's harder than it ought to be, once those whimpers begin, to resist the temptation to speed back to the castle and damn the consequences or to stop the car entirely to sit with Alucard. The former would be effective but risky. The latter would be comforting, maybe, but stupid.

He only realises after driving for a couple of minutes that he's talking. Not about anything in particular, just the kinds of stupid topics that slip from his tongue easily. The Saga Of The Fishmonger's Wife's Brother. The church's latest food drive, and how Father Robert had cried about it and how apparently that's a thing that happens every year. Nothing important, just talking. Just something stupid and meaningless for Alucard to focus on.

He doesn't have time to examine his own behaviour right now. ]

There's one of those fucking Godbrands in my knitting bag, if you can reach it. Probably better to hold on to that than the car.