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Shit.

[ The supplies are at the wagon, and he'll have easier access to clean water there than he does here. But if Alucard can't walk? Carrying him will aggravate the wound, but leaving him here on the frozen ground, with the smell of blood on the air and the night full of things that can catch that scent? ]

Let me know if I fuck up too badly. [ He rests one arm against Alucard's back to support him as he hooks another under his knees, trying to lift him without too many sudden movements. And then, because he's too tired and too sober to resist the temptation to be just a little petty, he mutters under his breath- ] Shouldn't be too hard. Seems to be what you're best at.

What are you--!

[It's a yelp, one born of someone touching him, mixed with the pain of the wound and the absolute indignity of the entire moment. He expected to have an arm around his shoulder to drag him along to the wagon. Not this.

It isn't relaxing. It isn't helpful. Alucard's entire body tenses up with an absolute horror that is doubtlessly obvious to the Belmont but under no circumstances can the vampire find himself caring. To his credit, he doesn't squirm, but there's a hissed noise of fury that's something only a vampire could make.]

I could have made it with guidance not this, Belmont.

[ He frowns and only holds on to the vampire tighter, even knowing that if. He can be weird about it and make vampire noises later. For now, the most important thing to do is get to the wagon. ]

You'd have made it slowly.

[ Alucard could absolutely break out of the hold if he stuggled rather than tensing up and freezing. Probably would take a few ribs with him, but could break out. He doesn't care. If it happens, it happens. For now, he continues to walk steadily but quickly back to the inn and the wagon parked near its stables. ]

You can complain if I make the wound worse. That'll be helpful.

It would have been fine.

[It wouldn't have been. Trevor's right, but like hell Alucard will admit to any concept of that. He remains taught in Trevor's arms, silent and fuming and biting down on the pain.

It is fine. Shallow, it'll heal up a little faster for that. Half a day, maybe. Enough for it not to be a problem, and if he spends tonight in the wagon, then he spends the night in the wagon. Sypha is far more likely to forgive that anyway, she's seen the deep discomfort that overtakes the vampire when he's been around civilization for more than an hour or two. Going from town to town is madness.

He's quiet until they get to the wagon, having moved only just long enough to readjust his cloak and make sure it wasn't going to fall from his shoulders.]

I can sew myself up.

Right. And nobody would have followed the trail of blood.

[ Which- shit, he'll need to clean up. Once this is done. He sets Alucard down, taking two steps back from him because he felt just how badly Alucard responded to contact. He climbs into the wagon himself, digging around in the packs to find the sewing kit. He sets it down by Alucard along with a mostly-clean cloth and a waterskin and then hops out again. ]

Go ahead.

[ He's not going anywhere, though. He's going to at least take a look at that cut, even if it's from a distance. ]

[It's a relief, not being carried. Having his space back, even if he'd prefer Trevor to be much further away. Alucard reaches for the sewing kit and selects a steel needle, one whose tip is wrapped in a little vial. It's alcohol, all the better to sterilize the needle so it can be used at a moment's notice.]

Shut up.

[Because he has to concentrate, or so Alucard tells himself. He shrugs the cloak off from his shoulders first, and then carefully manuevers his awfully dirty white tunic off himself as well. As tender as he was when Lisa was murdered, Alucard remembers enough of her medical skills and lectures. She'd sit him down in the clinic and let him watch the work, teaching her son when Dracula was away.

That's a memory to deal with later. The shirt is gone, and so threads can't get in the wound. He ignores the fact that it means Trevor will see the cauterized scar that runs down his torso, and instead threads the needle before turning his attention to the knife in his side.

The hand not holding the needle is the one that pulls it out, quick and smooth and with only a soft noise of pain. It hurts, but Trevor need not know that.]

It's only a blade. I'd know if it was poisoned.

[He clarifies, as if that's why the Belmont is lingering. The needle goes in.]

[ He doesn't answer. Because he does, actually, know how to follow instructions and if he was asked to shut up- fine. He doesn't have much to say right now anyway. He picks up the discarded knife, examining it. Iron. Not silver. Not poisoned, if Alucard is to be believed. Blunt enough to have been awful going in, hopefully enough that any damage done to organs was crushing rather than cutting. Not that the distinction matters that much for Alucard's kind.

The long scar, still too fresh for comfort, catches his attention the second he lets it waver from the knife. It's nasty, worse than he'd expected, and he'd have commented if he'd not been told to shut up. Instead he stares intently for a while, examining it as best he can from this distance, before returning to the wagon for a piece of paper and stick of charcoal. ]

I'll leave her a note so she doesn't panic when she wakes, let her know I'm staying down here.

[ That is to say: Alucard, you're stuck with company for the rest of the night. ]

You don't need to stay down here. She'll appreciate your company more anyway.

[Trevor is, after all, the nice one. The one she's been looking for to complete that stupid prophecy, not Alucard. Not the disgraced son of the man responsible for the night hoards in the first place. Alucard's amazed Sypha can stand his presence most days and--

--that's not a thought to have while sewing oneself up. Alucard's eyes go to his wound, cursing the awful angle that it's on and that he has to patch it up in the first place. He should have just gone beyond the town borders and into the woods if he was so in need of quiet and space. Not lingered, Not been around humans.]

Go inside and sleep.

No.

[ The response comes immediately, and a little more harshly than he intended it to. He can't sleep, not without a drink, and if Alucard sees him walking off in the opposite direction of the inn so he can find one-

-well, he probably won't have questions. But he'll know. And he might tell Sypha out of spite. Instead he watches Alucard work. ]

You're shit at this.

[ He outstretches a hand, not touching Alucard but coming close. Let him do it. ]

No. You can't see in the dark.

[Alucard pulls suddenly and tightly on the thread, and for a moment he feels the wind leave himself. Shit. Fuck. Stupid move.]

I've done this plenty of times, and my parents were far better doctors than your family of murderers.

Butchers. Murderers kill people.

[ He says it without thinking, without even taking in the statement enough to have any feelings on it. It's probably not a great response, but by the time he's actually considered everything long enough to realise that he's-

-offended isn't the right word, nor is hurt. Not even angry. He's heard his family called far worse. It's more an awareness that Alucard was trying to hurt, and it doesn't exactly leave him in a mood to take his words back. ]

[Good. There's silence after that. Alucard can work with horrible and oppressive silence, because that lets him concentrate. His stitch work is slow, yes, but it's neat even though his mother never did properly instruct him on how to do this. He just remembers watching her, and the rest just...maybe it's some kind of knowledge he inherited.

Either way, he manages three quarters of the way through before the angle becomes too awful to deal with, and every time the vampire twists or turns or shifts to try and see what he's doing, there's a noise of pain and a soft swear. His fingers tremble every time he manages to get the needle in and--

--no. The son of a family of genocidal hunters don't get to help. He keeps twitsting and turning, pointedly ignoring Trevor's gaze.]

For fuck's sake. Unless you got put back together wrong after he cut you in half, your body's not meant to turn that way.

[ He hasn't moves his hand since he offered it, despite the words they've shared, He stretches the fingers of it to draw Alucard's attention to it. ]

Let me do it.

No.

[There's only half an inch left to do. He can do this. He can do it and he knows he can, so why is the Belmont even lingering.

But the word no makes him pull too hard, and there's a breathless choke of pain that blossoms up with it. Fuck. Fuck.]

[ You know what? He's already verbally being an asshole, why is he trying to avoid causing the vampire distress by touching him? It's get a good reason anyway.

He is still struggling to justify it to himself as he snatches the needle away, but he does it. One hand is on Alucard's, trying to hold it still while he takes the needle so that the thread doesn't get yanked and nobody gets stabbed with a needle. The other plucks it from Alucard's fingers. ]

Stay still. I'll be quick about it.

[For better or worse, Alucard doesn't fight it. There's a part of him, deep down, that realizes the help is required even if the rest of him hisses and spits and scratches at the mere thought. So he doesn't fight back.

He's still. Breath shallow, chest barely rising and falling. Still enough? he almost asks, but doesn't. He's just...he just ceases any major movement, and so at least it lets Trevor work.

Quick, he says. Alucard's ready to be proven wrong.]

[ He continues to hold Alucard's hand for a few more seconds, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. Even if he knows it doesn't help. Even if he knows it's making it worse. It's still his first instinct, from years of living with only his siblings, that this would be how to comfort someone.

But eventually, he does let go. He's working mostly blind, so he brushes his fingertips over the skin below the wound, feeling where the trauma has made it a little warmer to figure out where to sew without touching the injury itself. His work isn't as neat as Alucard's, but it's serviceable and quick. ]

There. [ He moves back, sighing. ] Was that really so hard?

[Alucard's hand stays where it is. He hates this. Hates how his chest freezes at the hand over his. Wants to withdraw and curl up, dragging his cloak over him and simply resting so he can help this wound heal faster. But no, the Belmont takes his sweet time thinking of him like a normal human, and Alucard nearly screams for him to just get on with it.

But there's only ever silence. Only ever holding his breath when Trevor's fingers touch the wound, and then, thank God, it's done.

Almost instantly, Alucard works to put as much distance between himself and Trevor was the wagon will allow for. Grab his cloak and pulls it tightly around himself, warm armor against the cold and the terror of having a butcher of vampires attend to a wound.]

Yes.

[He puts the needle away. That's all he does, before trying to make himself small.]

Now go inside and go to bed with her. There's only a few hours until morning anyway.

[ You know what? Fine. There's more to be done here. If he was going to be cautious he should clean up the blood, but the chances of someone going around rubbing bloody snow on an open cut are- well. hopefully slim. People around here might be into weird shit. He's tired. He's so, so tired. ]

You're welcome.

[ He doesn't go back into the inn, though. He heads off in the opposite direction, back toward the edge of town and the tavern there. Hopefully it's still open. ]

Hn.

[Alucard turns his back before he even sees what direction Trevor goes in. He simply settles against the cold, hard wood of the wagon and readjusts the cloak. It is warm enough to keep out the cold, and Alucard quickly finds a comfortable position to sleep in. The cloak covers all of him safe his head, and that's just fine. He's warm. He's in pain, but that is so easy to ignore. And he sleeps.

It's not restful. It can't be, not in town. Not when anyone can walk up to the wagon, wake him, and do...anything. And he is up with the sun because of course he is, but still curled under the cloak. His eyes simply watch the world, knowing that the real sleep he needs will be once they're on the road. He doesn't trust the other two an inch, but he can sleep if they're moving in the wagon. Really sleep.

He sighs. Sleeping like that for a century sounds lovely right now.]

[ He returns after a while, but doesn't wake the vampire, curling up in bed for the few hours that he has left before sunrise. And Sypha's concerned that he's tired in the morning, but she's always concerned. She insists on checking over his own still-healing injuries and he refuses to take off his clothes in front of a lady and she demands he just pretend he thinks she's a man and deal with it.

He doesn't tell her about Alucard's adventure last night. There's not much sense in it. She'd try to make the ride smoother if she knew, but she'd also fuss. He's pretty sure Alucard would rather the discomfort of a bumpy ride occasionally waking him than the fussing. ]

Dinner.

[ His half-hearted attempt at waking Alucard comes in the evening, along with the sound of a glass bottle being set down next to him. Rabbit blood. He isn't certain what it is that Alucard snatches up when he goes hunting for himself, but rabbit is what his own hunt produced and so rabbit is what Alucard gets. ]

[He's the one that drives them at night. It makes sense, because he can still see the road and it permits them to cover much more ground if they don't have to camp for the night. He likes it, some nights. It's traveling and being as alone as he can be right now with the other two asleep in the back, winds brushing against the vampire's face and a sense of...he isn't safe, no, but this is his normal. Moving through the woods of Wallachia with the stupid desire not to die, because it's the only thing he can think of to please his mother right now.

It's the only reason he didn't try dying a long time ago.

The wound's moved closer towards healing. Alucard knows that much when Trevor declares dinner and the vampire is required to truly wake. Dinner means it'll be his turn to drive, and driving demands constant vigilance.

He doesn't sit up yet though. Alucard grabs the bottle and brings it over to himself, then slowly, carefully sits up so he can consume the contents. There's no indication that the movement hurts aside from how his shoulders flinch, and soon enough, the empty bottle is placed down with a thud.]

Thank you.

[It's enough. Alucard's used to hunting and eating as a wolf rather than a man, all raw flesh and blood rather than things cooked by human means. Just taking blood right now is more than enough. He can let the human diet go a few days so long as there's blood every night.]

How many more days are we out from our intended destination?

Three days to Braila - we'll make it in two if you're well enough to drive and the horses can handle the work - and the castle's about a day out from there. We might need to make the journey between them a few times for supplies.

[ Which is a less horrifying way of saying 'if vampires have taken over it, we might need to be prepared to do a siege'. Dracula's operating out of his childhood home. He knows how it feels to lose home to an enemy force, and it's a shitty prospect to bring it up to Alucard. He is at least trying to be nice. ]

You going to be up and about again by then, or should we stop a few days?

Then I'll make the drive.

[The sooner this is done and over with, the sooner Alucard can withdraw from the world again, alone and if not content in that loneliness, then able to accept it and know that the world is truly better off for his father's death.

Or maybe he'll just entomb himself properly. Use his father's coffin deep in the castle for his own, lock it, and be if not at peace, then asleep and dead to the world. Oh, it is a fate to be wished for after the last decade in change, one that means no hiding, no need to keep hunting for scraps of food, no dealing with humans or vampires or anyone. Just rest, and hopefully rest without dreams.

The other two have each other. The night world will have a Belmont to enforce order upon it again. It all works out in the end.]

We keep going. This is a distraction, nothing more.

[ He nods. It's- if not about right, then about what they've come to expect from each other. They all keep their time together at a minimum. It's only sad if one stops to think about it, and the only one who ever stops to think about it is Sypha. ]

Here.

[ The thing he hands over is a damp cloth sack, being used to contain a thick black paste. ]

We passed some blackthorn while you were asleep. It's for- [ He pauses. ] -I told her it was for the big nasty one, but it should help numb whatever you want to use it on.

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