I've been away from my body a long time. I don't want to distance myself from it. It's just-
[ He wants to gulp down the broth and have it gone or just leave it untouched, but he sips at it carefully. He's already queasy and weak, he doesn't need to make either worse. ]
-a lot. It's a lot. Getting four years of bullshit at once.
Had I know, I would've tried something else. Something that wouldn't put us all in such close proximity and threaten tempers. A place for you to get to grips with everything without my father's presence.
[ He seems like he's about to say something, but then falls silent. By the time he replies, he's drunk about a third of the broth and put the rest aside, resting his head against the wall behind him.
He still doesn't really know the answer to that. Alone would be best to process everything. But at the same time, processing everything is the last thing he wants to do. He needs to, at some point, but right now all he wants is to rip that final moth out of himself and go back to being happy and stupid and impossibly grateful to Alucard.
His answer, when it finally comes, comes out mumbled and not entirely clear ]
[Alucard nods. It doesn't surprise him that the response takes some time to come, and well...no. Who would want to be alone with their thoughts right now.
Very cautiously, he places his hand down on the ground beside Trevor's, in case it is to be taken again.]
[ He looks at the hand for a second, then up at Alucard. ]
As you are.
[ And that's the only warning that Alucard gets before he falls forward against him, face buried in his chest and fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, breaths thick and ragged and only a hair short of the point where he might have to acknowledge that they're sobs. ]
[Alucard lets out a soft oof as Trevor's weight presses down against him. He wasn't prepared for this particular possibility, and yet here he is. A creature who's spent decades trying to murder his own father in cold blood is here, sobbing into his chest and managing a small amount of comfort from it.
He's not sure what to do. Where his hands should go. What any protocol is in this situation.
Eventually, Alucard's hands just. Pat the top of Trevor's head gently, unsure if that's helping but certain it can't be hurting.]
[ He calms as Alucard's hands touch his hair, like an animal being petted. His breath comes easier. The shaking of his limbs stops and his head feels heavier.
It isn't long before he falls still, breathing steady and calm, silence only broken by the occasional whimper. His hands twitch every now and then like an animal moving in its sleep. ]
[Well, it's the fate of every vampire, isn't it? Trapped by a Belmont.
Alucard just didn't think it would be quite like this. Trapped under the weight of four years of torture, rather than at the end of one of their great vampire fighting tools. He sits there, more than a little awkward, hardly in a position to move Trevor never mind himself.]
...I suppose I have to hope mother comes back soon.
[ Eventually, Trevor is moved onto the bed. If he wakes in the process, he chooses to pretend not to.
It's just before dawn when he wakes, groaning as he sits up. Everything hurts. Everything hurts a lot. He fumbles about, reaching for where there had been water to drink yesterday. ]
's he back?
[ He doesn't even know if there's anyone here to ask, his head hurts too much to open his eyes properly yet. ]
[There is, in fact, only Lisa on the other side of the glass. She is awake, if barely, with Dracula having withdrawn a few moments before due to the oncoming sun. Alucard himself is asleep inside, a wolf instead of a young man for the time being because it is a comfier state.
She perks with Trevor's rising.]
They're both asleep. Would sunlight help your recovery at all?
[It's a statement said with real warmth and affection, oblivious to the fact that Trevor has a different kind of discomfort around Lisa. Or if she has noticed it, it's been chalked up to her husband being well, her husband. Nothing about her person.
The door to the quarantine room opens, and while Lisa doesn't have the strength of her son or husband, she can help maneuver a faerie outside to the sunlight, where there are two chairs awaiting along with a table in between them. A table with two mugs of tea, and a little bit of toasted bread on a plate. Trevor gets his choice of chair, even.]
[ He's light, like this, the way a bird's hollow bones are. Not enough moths.
Her touch is uncomfortable, but not as much so as the examination. She's not trying so aggressively (oh, nothing about hew outward behaviour could be described as aggressive but she thinks relentlessly) to try to understand how he works, to make him exist in the same place as human logic and rules. He moves outside, some of his weight on her, and positions himself awkwardly in a chair.
It's- nice, the early morning. Sun on his face, but air still cool enough to be soothing to his aching everything. He stares at the toast a few seconds, then places his hand near the plate, looking up at Lisa. There's a silent question there - can he take a slice? ]
[The lightness is only to be expected. It goes with how badly nourished the young (okay not young) man was, and so guiding Trevor over to a chair and letting him sit is helpful information for Lisa to have. It tells her how much food to alot for. What kinds. How long.
Relentless, rentless, relentless.
Lisa sits only after Trevor does, and when she catches his eye, there's a nod.]
[ He takes the crust from the toast, gnawing at it. It's- a start. An attempt at solid food.
His time with Lisa never really grows more comfortable. Oh, she's kind, but her mind never ceases. He feels a little like a circle being drawn with only straight lines. She asks how the day can be shorter, says that surely that means it's longer on the other side of the world. She says that the sun is out there past the sky somewhere and the world is turning around it and that it makes no sense at all that it's been divided up and part of it dragged into hell. She doesn't believe, not without proof, and it's only a willingness to stop asking questions when he seems pained that keeps that from being fatal to him in his weakened state.
Alucard is easier. He asks as many questions, but he's also something impossible. It's less uncomfortable. Dracula doesn't question in the same way, he knows that there are things that make no sense. But he's Dracula. He's scary. Trevor tries to sleep rather than dealing with him.
He's been more respectful of Alucard's space since that first night after the examination. He stays perched on his bed and doesn't speak much. He weaves to occupy himself, because he has to try to repay Lisa somehow and silk is all he can make.
It's a week after the rescue that, actually looking up from his work, he speaks to Alucard again. ]
[They split their days into thirds. Lisa in the morning (a few hours overlapping with her husband, because they'll be drawn apart by nothing but especially not by a Belmont), Dracula in the nights, and Alucard in all that time in between.
Much happens outside of Trevor's view. The matter of the sun, which Dracula hates from a scientific point of view but understands from the magical one, means dedicated planning and Lisa's hard rational mind only helps so much. Alucard assists instead, and between that, Trevor, and sleep, his own state is frazzled. Hair frizzles a little, he's had no time to shave, and scruff has become something closer to his father's beard.
With Trevor, he's been reading. Reading things his father asks him to read mostly, trying to help draft new plans.
He's reading when Trevor speaks, and there's no hiding how baffled he is.]
[ He repeats it, as if it's the most sensible thing in the world. It's only a moment later that he thinks to clarify at all. He puts aside the silk shawl he's making (it won't make it to Lisa, more than likely. Dracula wouldn't let something of fairy make get too close to her) to speak. ]
I would stay where you asked me, and swear an oath to not wage war against you or your house. I would be bound to. Would that be enough?
[ For Dracula to believe he means no harm, he means. Enough to restore the peace in Alucard's home. ]
May I ask why you'd be so willing and so quick to force new bonds?
[There's like a million better ways to ask that. Alucard doesn't have the vocabulary. All he has is weariness, and he scratches at the spot where the jawline and neck meet.]
[It's a weird attempt to make light of an absolutely awful situation. One that just becomes worse as Trevor speaks, because Alucard cannot imagine what befell others who attempted to help.
He sighs, fiddling with his own hair.]
It's not a hardship. Well. [He won't lie.] For my father it is, but things seem to be more complicated than simple hatred with regards to your family. The rest is what we'd do for any patient. It isn't suffering. It doesn't demand repayment.
[As for that last part, Alucard just blinks for a moment.]
...do you actually think that'd be a better idea with regards to my father?
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[ And really, that could well serve as an answer to that second question. He looks at his hands, at the mug of broth cooling in them. ]
Like shit. Sore, and tired, and- shit.
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Anything that you need that my alleviate that? I...the tired part is just reliant on you resting, but painkillers and such are options.
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I've been away from my body a long time. I don't want to distance myself from it. It's just-
[ He wants to gulp down the broth and have it gone or just leave it untouched, but he sips at it carefully. He's already queasy and weak, he doesn't need to make either worse. ]
-a lot. It's a lot. Getting four years of bullshit at once.
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[Alucard trails off.]
Had I know, I would've tried something else. Something that wouldn't put us all in such close proximity and threaten tempers. A place for you to get to grips with everything without my father's presence.
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[ He shakes his head. ]
Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful. I'm just- shit.
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He still doesn't really know the answer to that. Alone would be best to process everything. But at the same time, processing everything is the last thing he wants to do. He needs to, at some point, but right now all he wants is to rip that final moth out of himself and go back to being happy and stupid and impossibly grateful to Alucard.
His answer, when it finally comes, comes out mumbled and not entirely clear ]
-ntil I sleep, again?
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Very cautiously, he places his hand down on the ground beside Trevor's, in case it is to be taken again.]
Would you prefer me as a wolf?
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As you are.
[ And that's the only warning that Alucard gets before he falls forward against him, face buried in his chest and fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt, breaths thick and ragged and only a hair short of the point where he might have to acknowledge that they're sobs. ]
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He's not sure what to do. Where his hands should go. What any protocol is in this situation.
Eventually, Alucard's hands just. Pat the top of Trevor's head gently, unsure if that's helping but certain it can't be hurting.]
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It isn't long before he falls still, breathing steady and calm, silence only broken by the occasional whimper. His hands twitch every now and then like an animal moving in its sleep. ]
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Alucard just didn't think it would be quite like this. Trapped under the weight of four years of torture, rather than at the end of one of their great vampire fighting tools. He sits there, more than a little awkward, hardly in a position to move Trevor never mind himself.]
...I suppose I have to hope mother comes back soon.
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It's just before dawn when he wakes, groaning as he sits up. Everything hurts. Everything hurts a lot. He fumbles about, reaching for where there had been water to drink yesterday. ]
's he back?
[ He doesn't even know if there's anyone here to ask, his head hurts too much to open his eyes properly yet. ]
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She perks with Trevor's rising.]
They're both asleep. Would sunlight help your recovery at all?
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[ That is to say, he doesn't need sunlight to live in the same way that vampires need to not have it. He just needs it in the same way that humans do.
He swallows, because he's alone with Lisa and Lisa is terrifying in a way that Dracula isn't. ]
It'd be nice. To be outside.
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[It's a statement said with real warmth and affection, oblivious to the fact that Trevor has a different kind of discomfort around Lisa. Or if she has noticed it, it's been chalked up to her husband being well, her husband. Nothing about her person.
The door to the quarantine room opens, and while Lisa doesn't have the strength of her son or husband, she can help maneuver a faerie outside to the sunlight, where there are two chairs awaiting along with a table in between them. A table with two mugs of tea, and a little bit of toasted bread on a plate. Trevor gets his choice of chair, even.]
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Her touch is uncomfortable, but not as much so as the examination. She's not trying so aggressively (oh, nothing about hew outward behaviour could be described as aggressive but she thinks relentlessly) to try to understand how he works, to make him exist in the same place as human logic and rules. He moves outside, some of his weight on her, and positions himself awkwardly in a chair.
It's- nice, the early morning. Sun on his face, but air still cool enough to be soothing to his aching everything. He stares at the toast a few seconds, then places his hand near the plate, looking up at Lisa. There's a silent question there - can he take a slice? ]
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Relentless, rentless, relentless.
Lisa sits only after Trevor does, and when she catches his eye, there's a nod.]
As much as you like.
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His time with Lisa never really grows more comfortable. Oh, she's kind, but her mind never ceases. He feels a little like a circle being drawn with only straight lines. She asks how the day can be shorter, says that surely that means it's longer on the other side of the world. She says that the sun is out there past the sky somewhere and the world is turning around it and that it makes no sense at all that it's been divided up and part of it dragged into hell. She doesn't believe, not without proof, and it's only a willingness to stop asking questions when he seems pained that keeps that from being fatal to him in his weakened state.
Alucard is easier. He asks as many questions, but he's also something impossible. It's less uncomfortable. Dracula doesn't question in the same way, he knows that there are things that make no sense. But he's Dracula. He's scary. Trevor tries to sleep rather than dealing with him.
He's been more respectful of Alucard's space since that first night after the examination. He stays perched on his bed and doesn't speak much. He weaves to occupy himself, because he has to try to repay Lisa somehow and silk is all he can make.
It's a week after the rescue that, actually looking up from his work, he speaks to Alucard again. ]
I could be your husband.
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Much happens outside of Trevor's view. The matter of the sun, which Dracula hates from a scientific point of view but understands from the magical one, means dedicated planning and Lisa's hard rational mind only helps so much. Alucard assists instead, and between that, Trevor, and sleep, his own state is frazzled. Hair frizzles a little, he's had no time to shave, and scruff has become something closer to his father's beard.
With Trevor, he's been reading. Reading things his father asks him to read mostly, trying to help draft new plans.
He's reading when Trevor speaks, and there's no hiding how baffled he is.]
I....what?
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[ He repeats it, as if it's the most sensible thing in the world. It's only a moment later that he thinks to clarify at all. He puts aside the silk shawl he's making (it won't make it to Lisa, more than likely. Dracula wouldn't let something of fairy make get too close to her) to speak. ]
I would stay where you asked me, and swear an oath to not wage war against you or your house. I would be bound to. Would that be enough?
[ For Dracula to believe he means no harm, he means. Enough to restore the peace in Alucard's home. ]
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[There's like a million better ways to ask that. Alucard doesn't have the vocabulary. All he has is weariness, and he scratches at the spot where the jawline and neck meet.]
You've only just left old ones.
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[ He says it with the same flat honesty as he says most things, then pauses, because the rest is harder. ]
Everyone who tried to save me before, they suffered for it. Then you saved me. And your family has suffered for it. I want to make that right.
[ A pause. ] And I could kiss you.
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[It's a weird attempt to make light of an absolutely awful situation. One that just becomes worse as Trevor speaks, because Alucard cannot imagine what befell others who attempted to help.
He sighs, fiddling with his own hair.]
It's not a hardship. Well. [He won't lie.] For my father it is, but things seem to be more complicated than simple hatred with regards to your family. The rest is what we'd do for any patient. It isn't suffering. It doesn't demand repayment.
[As for that last part, Alucard just blinks for a moment.]
...do you actually think that'd be a better idea with regards to my father?
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[ He gives it exactly four seconds thought, though, and- yeah, maybe not the kissing part. ]
-I wouldn’t have to kiss you, if you don’t want me to.
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