[ He wants to argue. He made this mess. He needs to fix it, regardless of his ability to actually do so. He’s always got up again and kept going, this shouldn’t be different.
Except it is, in so many ways. He needs to fix what he’s broken, but he also owes them both. He can be obedient, at the very least. ]
-I’ll try. [ A pause. ] Bring a blindfold, if you come back.
[Alucard doesn't ask what it's for. But he pauses, realizing one possibilty.]
If you're planning on attempting to gouge your eyes out, don't.
[It's probably pointless to say. But it's a new fear that has popped into his head, and Alucard wants to address it. Then he's gone, gone and talking to Sypha about what Trevor's shared. They speak in quiet, terrified tones, and then Sypha contacts her people.
They're fine for now. But they are warned, and Alucard leaves Sypha talking to them about how to be safe. Alucard walks back into Trevor's room.]
[ And, you know. Also there are very good reasons not to gouge out one’s eyes, but Trevor doesn’t seem to care about those.
He tries to sleep, while Alucard is gone. It’s impossible. He’s exhausted, enough that normally he’d be gone before his head touched pillow. But between the pain and the terror and the guilt, sleep isn’t happening. ]
Do you have it? I need it at dusk and dawn. Closing my eyes doesn’t work.
[ But apologising is all he can do. He can't make this right. He can't even sit up. Hasn't even managed to consume enough food the traditional way to vomit properly. Too tired to sleep. The blindfold covers his eyes, and that's comforting. Keeps the light out. Keeps Carmilla's vision dark. ]
I told her so much. So much. If either of you get hurt, because of that-
Belmont, it's done. It's happened. You almost died because of that woman, just as I almost did. There's nothing that apologizing is going to accomplish.
[He's firmer than usual. There's irritation there too.]
Focus on getting well so that we can cleave her head from it's neck. I'll take that as the only form of recompense needed. Do you understand me?
[ Which is the problem, really. He's never been afraid to die. But becoming a monster- that terrifies every Belmont more than anything else. Carmilla had figured that out quickly.
But he moves his head back, turning it in the direction of Alucard's voice, and nods after only a moment of hesitation. ]
Don't like leaving things broken.
[ It doesn't sound like much in the way of recompense, but it's the least he can do. Fix the fucking problem that he made. Get the fucking forgemaster to safety. Finish the job, do it right this time. ]
You went into shock when we got you home, Be-- why am I debating with you about nomenclature?
[Alucard groans, tutting at himself rather than at Trevor. This is a pointless thing to pursue and he knows it. Better to focus on the things they can work on.]
Unbreak yourself physically, if that's how you must phrase it.
[ He grows quiet. Doesn’t fall asleep, but doesn’t speak either.
He’s back on actual food the next day. Plain bread along with a mostly liquid diet. Sypha deals with that part, because she’s the one who can deal with the prolonged physical closeness it requires. She hates the blindfold and removes it whenever it’s safe to.
Recovery is- not fast, but faster now. Another week and he’s more capable of movement. Not standing, but he can move his good arm relatively freely and his bad one more stiffly. His legs move, even if they won’t hold his weight. Griping with his bad hand is still a challenge, though Sypha has been guiding him through exercises to help him get better at it. He can move about, sort of. Alucard has to help him in and out of the moving chair (something made for Lisa’s patients long ago), but he can sort of propel and steer himself once he’s in there, even blind. It helps that the castle is kind enough to rearrange itself to avoid sending him down stairs.
It’s dawn, and he’s waiting with Alucard. Soon, he’ll see what Carmilla is doing. Then Alucard can move him into the chair. ]
[Alucard learns to hate the silences. It means Trevor is thinking, and Trevor is thinking about how to fix this broken thing that he caused. Playing the blame game is nothing new to Alucard, but the way it wears Trevor down aches at him.
But he's keeping good on the attempt to unbreak himself, and that? That means a lot to the vampire. He makes quiet notes at night about Trevor's progress, and when he looks back, it really is nothing short of remarkable.
He can only worry about what will happen when the specter of Carmilla is gone, leaving just the three of them.
The last fifteen minutes to sunrise creeps up. Alucard shifts when that happens, filled more with purpose than quiet Belmont companionship. His attention goes to Trevor, and he makes a very soft noise.]
[ His hands grip at the sides of his bed - he’s back in his old room now, the one he used when they first came to stay here. It’s closer to normal, with nothing for him to be attached to, and that seems to do wonders for Sypha’s nerves.
It doesn’t make much difference to him - he’s not really had much opportunity to see how he looks all full of tubes. Or much of anything, despite Sypha’s best efforts. Better safe than sorry.
The sun peeks over the horizon. He doesn’t see it, because Carmilla doesn’t look at the sun. For obvious reasons. His hands shake, his teeth clench - and fuck, the side of his mouth hurts during these moments. He hopes that goes both ways, too, and that Carmilla is getting to appreciate her own work.]
Thank fuck.
[ His body relaxes visibly, and for the first time he doesn’t blurt out instructions for Sypha to send to her grandfather. ]
[Alucard moves so that he's sitting opposite of Trevor. His hands also clench, gripping the bed frame and nails digging into the wood. His eyes focus on Trevor's through the fabric, trying to peer through, see what's there.]
[ The bad news is, he doesn’t know where she’s moving on to. But giving up on the speakers is a massive relief, they’ve only ever been one bad day away from her catching them. ]
[ It’s hard to say, he lived most of his life locked away in the Belmont hold rather than travelling Wallachia and Calmilla is trying to stay far from the markers of civilisation that might provide clues. ]
Headed north, though. The caravans went south.
[ North, however, is toward them. They’re running out of time. ]
[That means moving the castle as quickly as he can. Perhaps further north, beyond Wallachia's borders. With Godbrand's absence, the German Black Forest is an option.
He breathes out, slowly.]
Let's wait until the sun is fully in the sky. Then you can try.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[It's a calm, level question. Given that Carmilla's being discussed, that's somethng like a miracle.]
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[ Try a week and change, buddy. ]
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[He tuts, shaking his head.]
She'll want you almost better before she attacks.
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[ He thinks for a second, and then he’s trying to get up. That doesn’t happen. His body twitches a little, but stays in the bed. ]
Sypha’s caravan. She knows- I told her their route. Shit. Shit.
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[Sypha has her means of doing that. If there is a true problem, then they'll go address it. Probably soon.]
But if I leave this room, promise me you won't try and get up. Or move. Or anything.
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[ He wants to argue. He made this mess. He needs to fix it, regardless of his ability to actually do so. He’s always got up again and kept going, this shouldn’t be different.
Except it is, in so many ways. He needs to fix what he’s broken, but he also owes them both. He can be obedient, at the very least. ]
-I’ll try. [ A pause. ] Bring a blindfold, if you come back.
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[Alucard doesn't ask what it's for. But he pauses, realizing one possibilty.]
If you're planning on attempting to gouge your eyes out, don't.
[It's probably pointless to say. But it's a new fear that has popped into his head, and Alucard wants to address it. Then he's gone, gone and talking to Sypha about what Trevor's shared. They speak in quiet, terrified tones, and then Sypha contacts her people.
They're fine for now. But they are warned, and Alucard leaves Sypha talking to them about how to be safe. Alucard walks back into Trevor's room.]
They're fine.
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[ And, you know. Also there are very good reasons not to gouge out one’s eyes, but Trevor doesn’t seem to care about those.
He tries to sleep, while Alucard is gone. It’s impossible. He’s exhausted, enough that normally he’d be gone before his head touched pillow. But between the pain and the terror and the guilt, sleep isn’t happening. ]
Do you have it? I need it at dusk and dawn. Closing my eyes doesn’t work.
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--oh.]
We'll work on removing her control so you won't need the blindfold.
[He sighs, walking over and then sitting himself on the edge of Trevor's bed.]
I'm sorry, Trevor.
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[ One thing. He has one thing he can give to make up for everything. ]
It goes both ways. I can warn you when she’s close.
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[He's only heard of it going the one way. But it makes sense for the connection to work in reverse.]
It's still night. Do you want the blindfold regardless?
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[ He goes quiet. Talking through the pain is difficult. Thinking is difficult. When he speaks again it’s softer, less urgent. ]
I’m sorry. Should have been stronger.
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Please don't apologize. Please.
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[ But apologising is all he can do. He can't make this right. He can't even sit up. Hasn't even managed to consume enough food the traditional way to vomit properly. Too tired to sleep. The blindfold covers his eyes, and that's comforting. Keeps the light out. Keeps Carmilla's vision dark. ]
I told her so much. So much. If either of you get hurt, because of that-
-shit.
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[He's firmer than usual. There's irritation there too.]
Focus on getting well so that we can cleave her head from it's neck. I'll take that as the only form of recompense needed. Do you understand me?
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[ Which is the problem, really. He's never been afraid to die. But becoming a monster- that terrifies every Belmont more than anything else. Carmilla had figured that out quickly.
But he moves his head back, turning it in the direction of Alucard's voice, and nods after only a moment of hesitation. ]
Don't like leaving things broken.
[ It doesn't sound like much in the way of recompense, but it's the least he can do. Fix the fucking problem that he made. Get the fucking forgemaster to safety. Finish the job, do it right this time. ]
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[Alucard groans, tutting at himself rather than at Trevor. This is a pointless thing to pursue and he knows it. Better to focus on the things they can work on.]
Unbreak yourself physically, if that's how you must phrase it.
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[ He grows quiet. Doesn’t fall asleep, but doesn’t speak either.
He’s back on actual food the next day. Plain bread along with a mostly liquid diet. Sypha deals with that part, because she’s the one who can deal with the prolonged physical closeness it requires. She hates the blindfold and removes it whenever it’s safe to.
Recovery is- not fast, but faster now. Another week and he’s more capable of movement. Not standing, but he can move his good arm relatively freely and his bad one more stiffly. His legs move, even if they won’t hold his weight. Griping with his bad hand is still a challenge, though Sypha has been guiding him through exercises to help him get better at it. He can move about, sort of. Alucard has to help him in and out of the moving chair (something made for Lisa’s patients long ago), but he can sort of propel and steer himself once he’s in there, even blind. It helps that the castle is kind enough to rearrange itself to avoid sending him down stairs.
It’s dawn, and he’s waiting with Alucard. Soon, he’ll see what Carmilla is doing. Then Alucard can move him into the chair. ]
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But he's keeping good on the attempt to unbreak himself, and that? That means a lot to the vampire. He makes quiet notes at night about Trevor's progress, and when he looks back, it really is nothing short of remarkable.
He can only worry about what will happen when the specter of Carmilla is gone, leaving just the three of them.
The last fifteen minutes to sunrise creeps up. Alucard shifts when that happens, filled more with purpose than quiet Belmont companionship. His attention goes to Trevor, and he makes a very soft noise.]
Are you ready?
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[ His hands grip at the sides of his bed - he’s back in his old room now, the one he used when they first came to stay here. It’s closer to normal, with nothing for him to be attached to, and that seems to do wonders for Sypha’s nerves.
It doesn’t make much difference to him - he’s not really had much opportunity to see how he looks all full of tubes. Or much of anything, despite Sypha’s best efforts. Better safe than sorry.
The sun peeks over the horizon. He doesn’t see it, because Carmilla doesn’t look at the sun. For obvious reasons. His hands shake, his teeth clench - and fuck, the side of his mouth hurts during these moments. He hopes that goes both ways, too, and that Carmilla is getting to appreciate her own work.]
Thank fuck.
[ His body relaxes visibly, and for the first time he doesn’t blurt out instructions for Sypha to send to her grandfather. ]
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Tell me what you see on her side.
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[ The bad news is, he doesn’t know where she’s moving on to. But giving up on the speakers is a massive relief, they’ve only ever been one bad day away from her catching them. ]
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[That is a relief.]
Do you still see Styria or Wallachia through her eyes?
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[ It’s hard to say, he lived most of his life locked away in the Belmont hold rather than travelling Wallachia and Calmilla is trying to stay far from the markers of civilisation that might provide clues. ]
Headed north, though. The caravans went south.
[ North, however, is toward them. They’re running out of time. ]
I want to try walking with the stick again.
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[That means moving the castle as quickly as he can. Perhaps further north, beyond Wallachia's borders. With Godbrand's absence, the German Black Forest is an option.
He breathes out, slowly.]
Let's wait until the sun is fully in the sky. Then you can try.
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