cryptsleeper | Catch All

[ He considers this, though he wants to be defensive about the suggestion that putting people in cages is bad, actually. ]

I know who you are. You are half of a vampire. And you like books. And you like stabbing me. And you don't like me touching your hair.

[ HE KNOWS SO MANY GOOD ALUCARD FACTS. Is that good enough to do a marry???? ]

[Well, this is a start.]

No. You know things about me. Facts. What do you know of my personality? Why I am the way I am?

You are the way you are because one of your parent was a vampire and the other one wasn't.

[ There's a snort of laughter from Sypha, and he glares at her. Rude. He's trying! ]

If I learned more about you, would that make you happy?

That's....okay, that is in fact correct, but beyond that, you've proven my point.

[Alucard's glad for the speaker's presence. That much he knows for sure.]

I don't want happy to be your focus. I don't want marriage to be your focus. These kinds of things, they happen naturally or they don't happen at all. And...

[Alucard breathes out.]

Do you understand that what you say normally terrifies me?

You- think I want to touch your hair?

[ So no. No, he doesn't. ]

I do. But I wouldn't.

No. The...the rest of it. Talking to me like I'm some kind of prize to be won and carried away.

...does that scare you?

[ He seems genuinely confused by it. ]

I wouldn't hurt you. And you would be safe and I would bring you books and food and blood and whatever else you wanted.

Yes.

[The response is emphatic. Underlining the word.]

You understand what it is to hunt monsters. You say those things, and to me it sounds like another hunt, even if your intentions seem good on your end. You haven't asked if I wanted any of those things either.

[He leaves aside the fact that it'd be a terrible idea because he's the son of Dracula.]

I like being here. Doing things for myself. Having the freedom to pick what I do and don't want. What you're describing sounds like death to me.

[ He is quiet for a long while, turning that over in his head. Humans like to be safe. They like knowing that there will be a next meal, and that nothing will hurt them. They like being given things that make them happy. He knows all of this. It's strange that Alucard wouldn't want those things. ]

You- want to be free to go to places that aren't safe. if you want to?

[ It's a difficult concept. ]

Yes. Of course I do, to do so means I am free and my will is my own.

[Alucard doesn't know how much of this is really getting through. But it feels like the fae is making an effort. That is worth an awful lot]

You'll learn more from being around other humans as well.

But then you would go away and not come back. Or be hurt.

[ He frowns at that, even if he is overjoyed that his husband is talking to him! Properly! And not even stabbing him! There are a lot of things that hurt people, in the world. He never would have run into Alucard if there weren't, after all. ]

I don't like it.

That's the risk, yes. But I like those risks, and what I do and don't like matter just as much.

You like being hurt? I can-

[ He brightens, as if he's found a really obvious solution to this, but the sudden laughter from Sypha seems to indicate that he's misunderstood. Frowning in concentration, he tries a little harder. ]

You like- that you could be hurt. But not the being hurt?

[ This makes so little sense to him. ]

That's a simplistic way of understanding it.

[He very much likes this speaker. She has a good humor to her.

Alucard pauses, considering how to make sense of this for the fae.]

When you hunt, is there a thrill to it? Where does that sense come from?

[ He tilts his head, trying to consider how to explain hunting best. ]

From knowing that the monster has been hurting things and are scared of being hurt themselves, in Leon's hunts. And from chasing them. And from when they almost escape, and they think that they've gone unpunished, but you catch them anyway. And the meat. And from grinding their bones into meal and seeing the people they hurt picking flowers grown from their bodies. Or carving them into flutes and turning them into music.

[ As he speaks, his wings flick at the thought of it, eyes too bright and grin too wide. ]

[Okay, not as helpful as he thought. Alucard sighs, casting a side glance back to the speaker. They're better with words, aren't they? He's failing here, and he can feel himself failing. It's an unpleasant feeling.]

Doing all of of those things are choices you make. Choices that you make because they benefit you or give you pleasure in some way. They're also choices that have risks involved in them, because you could get hurt on a hunt. Or maybe someone will see you who shouldn't. But you make those choices all the same.

Where you go between hunts, those are choices to. Your will, your whim.

Why would you deny that to others?

[ He tries to process this. He really does. He frowns and considers. ]

Is there a better way? [ He asks eventually, cautiously. ] To make you not go away and find a different husband? I don't want that to happen.

I don't even know if I want a husband. Or a wife. Or anyone. I need to learn those things in my own time, and being declared someone else's husband denies me that.

[Those words are automatic and accidental, but in them there's honesty. The messy kind that isn't careful and thought out, the approach that needs to be done with the fae.

But it is too late. The words have been said, and Alucard knows he must own them.]

You...you can't think of me as a given. Or as yours already, or husband, or any other preconcieved notion that you've built up based on what, meeting me three times over seven years? That is the first part of this. Think of me as you think of the people here. Individuals you're meeting. Getting to know. Working alongside with.

I understand this hurts.

[ As Alucard speaks. Trevor coils his wings around himself. It does hurt, and it is confusing, and he doesn't care for it at all. ]

And there is nothing I can give you to change that?

[ It's pointless to ask. He knows it is. But making deals is what his kind does. ]

No.

[A single word, all too firm.]

Will is important. Mine is equal and as great as yours. Let us begin there, and see where things unfold. Who knows where the future goes from here.

[There is a pause, then a softer, more apologetic tone.]

And believe me when I say this? This is better than what would have been the fall out of doing things your way.

[Alucard 200% knows his father would start shit with the fae to get his son back. He'd rather not be Helen of House Tepes, thank you.]

[ HE'S NOT SCARED OF YOUR DAD OKAY????? Even if he probably ought to be. He nods, wrapping himself up tighter until he's just a pair of half-grown antlers poking out of a bundle of velvety wings and fluff. ]

Talking later. Tired.

[ Sypha ruffles what she can reach of his collar in sympathy on her way to sit with Alucard to make sure he is okay and offer awkward, awkward apologies for her caravan containing an unexpected fairy. ]

I will talk to him later. See that he understands.

[He does feel bad, seeing the fae close up in on himself like this. It does suggest that there's some understanding in him, but it doesn't feel good. Alucard offers a very soft I'm sorry before he stands up and withdraws, giving Trevor precious space. He picks up the cold iron and pockets it.

Emotions are hard and cruel. Alucard knows that, and being the one to inflict that sort of harm hurts too. When they're far enough away, he inclines his head, accepting the apology and everything.]

Thank you. For that, and for your help. If anything changes with regards to murmurings of witches, please contact me as soon as you're able. Likewise, if there's a failure in recovery, you know where I am.

[ News of witches comes sooner than any of them would have liked. It's only a month before Alucard sees Trevor again. The speakers are not in tow, still at least a week's ride away, and the unconscious woman in his arms is not one of their number. The smell of smoke - thankfully smoke alone, and not charred flesh, is thick on both of them.

He can, at least, see the clinic. Crossing the iron gate into the garden, passing all the wards intended to protect the clinic from him, specifically, is another matter entirely. He makes it about halfway up the path before the cold and numbness becomes too much to stand. Once he falls, he throws pebbles at the door to try to get attention and then, once he loses the ability to throw them far enough, takes to trying to edges closer to it, inch by inch, putting his wings between the patient and the ground to keep from dragging her along it. ]

[Lisa is not at home. She is attending another patient in town, a man who is doubtlessly dying of cancer and needs ways to dull the pain until his last breath passes. Dracula is likewise elsewhere, as seven years ago a panther attacked his son under the guise of the fae, and she knows she has done the lord of all vampires wrong. Her attempts to remain hidden are not so much that as a game of cat and mouse, and tonight she has played a weak hand.

So Alucard is alone when Trevor passes through the iron gates of his mother's clinic and their smaller family home, and he leaves his cold iron behind the moment he looks out the window and sees another woman in Trevor's arms. He's out the door in a moment, and his instructions are what might be expected of a doctor's son. He doesn't have her education, but Alucard has been around his mother long enough to understand certain needs.]

Lay her down on the grass. Support her head to make sure she has an airway clear.

[Alucard is crouching besides the proper spot.]

Tell me what happened.

[All of his words are command, fueled by intent. Not to deal with Trevor, but to address the situation at hand for the patient's sake. The stench of smoke gives a few suggestions though, and Alucard hates it. He doesn't recall how to deal with smoke inhalation, not off the top of his head..]

[ It's difficult to move at all in a place so heavily warded against him, but he has orders. This isn't a question of whether he can do it, only that he must. He moves the woman onto the grass, putting his hands beneath her head to support it. ]

She breathed in smoke. [ He answers before he realises what he's doing. ] It made her throat- too small. The speakers couldn't stop to treat her, and my sister's medicine won't work.

[ The smoke was put there by the church. Fairy magic is struggling to budge it. ]

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