[It has been three very long weeks. Alucard has not been able to communicate his own defenses to the others, that is plotting, but his routine was set since day one.
He sleeps twelve hours every day, 10 at night until 10 in the morning. It's enough for his father to administer medical attention, and to keep back any comments about care. The time asleep has worked wonders for healing, as has the (required) pint of blood a day, replacing the vampire's usual habit of once every three or four days. When he wakes, he's quiet. Cooks, then sits in the library so he's laying down as he reads. Everything is predictable. He is an obedient son, and takes extra steps to prove it. He hasn't left the house beyond sitting on the steps of the castle in the sunshine, guiltily relying on the other two for the real needs. (Library books. Groceries. Other requirements. Trevor's been trusted with Alucard's card.) Dracula is informed when his son rises, when he sleeps, and when one or the other are going out to take care of things.
It is effort. Alucard doesn't know if it will work, and he barely hides his fear of failure. It shows when he curls up around one or both of them or settles in their arms, all possessive grabbing with an undercurrent of something rawer. He can't lie that everything will be okay. He just tries to clamp down on the fear as best he can.
He's sitting in bed tonight, pajama top on but bottoms not pulled all the way up yet. A curtain of hair hides his gaze, but what Alucard's hand brushes over has hitherto been bandaged since he was brought home as a bundle of wrecked dhampir, recovery probable but not iron clad.
There's a soft sigh at the scar on his leg. It's the first he's seen it. It shall not be the last, because it is far too close to the vein in the leg, and high up for that matter. Every intimacy will feature it.]
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He sleeps twelve hours every day, 10 at night until 10 in the morning. It's enough for his father to administer medical attention, and to keep back any comments about care. The time asleep has worked wonders for healing, as has the (required) pint of blood a day, replacing the vampire's usual habit of once every three or four days. When he wakes, he's quiet. Cooks, then sits in the library so he's laying down as he reads. Everything is predictable. He is an obedient son, and takes extra steps to prove it. He hasn't left the house beyond sitting on the steps of the castle in the sunshine, guiltily relying on the other two for the real needs. (Library books. Groceries. Other requirements. Trevor's been trusted with Alucard's card.) Dracula is informed when his son rises, when he sleeps, and when one or the other are going out to take care of things.
It is effort. Alucard doesn't know if it will work, and he barely hides his fear of failure. It shows when he curls up around one or both of them or settles in their arms, all possessive grabbing with an undercurrent of something rawer. He can't lie that everything will be okay. He just tries to clamp down on the fear as best he can.
He's sitting in bed tonight, pajama top on but bottoms not pulled all the way up yet. A curtain of hair hides his gaze, but what Alucard's hand brushes over has hitherto been bandaged since he was brought home as a bundle of wrecked dhampir, recovery probable but not iron clad.
There's a soft sigh at the scar on his leg. It's the first he's seen it. It shall not be the last, because it is far too close to the vein in the leg, and high up for that matter. Every intimacy will feature it.]