[The car had gotten then both home. Alucard barely steered it, and in that there was a blessing. (As much as a demon car could ever give blessings.) He was free to concentrate on Sypha's breathing, making sure she was with him in all the ways that mattered, in looking in the mirrors to ensure the necromancer did not follow him home. The blood from his chest didn't matter, nothing did, nothing mattered until the demon car was home and in the garage and Trevor was already there waiting and then everything else became triage.
Alucard had to see to himself. That left Trevor in charge of Sypha, and if there needed to be any more proven trust between the three of them, that was it. Watching her be carried off and cared for by the person who frankly had just ensured that they both survived the necromancer's workshop. In better times, Alucard might stop and sigh from happiness.
It wasn't better times. He had to take care of another gaping chest wound, and that had his time and concentration. Compared to the blow dealt by his father, the cut was nothing, but...
...but it had information that could be extracted, and so Alucard forced himself to wait for everything else to be seen to before asking Trevor to take whatever samples he could. There were spots of black ichor clinging to the wound, and as those were cleaned out, Alucard's skin began to heal as it usually did. But unlike usual, there was a mark from it. Deep and dark magic, the kind that would scar anyone who let it get it's hooks into them.
Then there was only one thing left to do: retreat into their room. Their room, their bed where none of them had been for a week, both Trevor and Alucard curled around Sypha to form a wall around her. Arms clinging. Faces buried into wherever they could reach, secure in the knowledge that such an arrangement would not change.
It is not until two days later, when he is gathering up the breakfast dishes (Sypha is getting breakfast in bed for a week at least) that Alucard well and truly realizes what the marks on Sypha's arms are. His focus has been on her simply being in the house, being in his arms, being in Trevor's arms, being there that anything like damage has been considered in full. Those are not necromancer marks.
The tray full of dishes get sets aside. Placed onto the ground, and Alucard settles at the edge of the bed.]
no subject
Alucard had to see to himself. That left Trevor in charge of Sypha, and if there needed to be any more proven trust between the three of them, that was it. Watching her be carried off and cared for by the person who frankly had just ensured that they both survived the necromancer's workshop. In better times, Alucard might stop and sigh from happiness.
It wasn't better times. He had to take care of another gaping chest wound, and that had his time and concentration. Compared to the blow dealt by his father, the cut was nothing, but...
...but it had information that could be extracted, and so Alucard forced himself to wait for everything else to be seen to before asking Trevor to take whatever samples he could. There were spots of black ichor clinging to the wound, and as those were cleaned out, Alucard's skin began to heal as it usually did. But unlike usual, there was a mark from it. Deep and dark magic, the kind that would scar anyone who let it get it's hooks into them.
Then there was only one thing left to do: retreat into their room. Their room, their bed where none of them had been for a week, both Trevor and Alucard curled around Sypha to form a wall around her. Arms clinging. Faces buried into wherever they could reach, secure in the knowledge that such an arrangement would not change.
It is not until two days later, when he is gathering up the breakfast dishes (Sypha is getting breakfast in bed for a week at least) that Alucard well and truly realizes what the marks on Sypha's arms are. His focus has been on her simply being in the house, being in his arms, being in Trevor's arms, being there that anything like damage has been considered in full. Those are not necromancer marks.
The tray full of dishes get sets aside. Placed onto the ground, and Alucard settles at the edge of the bed.]
Do you need anything else right now?
[His hands rest flat on the mattress.]