[It's the scent of poison that Alucard smells first. It's thick and heady and rotten and at least his nose can be useful for that much. It's through all the rot that the wolf catches scent of Trevor Belmont himself, and it's the rot he relies on to find the Belmont and not the more typical musk that makes Trevor so easy to identify.
Paws thunder over ground, trampling whatever gets in the way. Sticks, logs, moss, the dead leaves. It continues and continues unti Trevor does come into view, and it's with an awful skid that the wolf stops. It's with a single breath that the wolf is no longer a wolf at all but a man, one tall and lanky and terrified, crouching down to test Trevor's pulse.]
Belmont.
[It's a stern and unhappy voice, one that wants to just start screaming at Trevor for doing something unspeakably stupid.]
[Delirium had gripped Trevor hours before Adrian's arrival. Case in point, he can't be sure whether Adrian's actually knelt beside him, or if it's another hallucination. Some mirage of the meandering mist, bringing a dying man this cold bit of comfort. If God were just, the hallucination would have brought Adrian and Sypha both, preferably nude and bathing for Trevor's last-minute show. Though the mist hadn't spoken before now, and Adrian's scent surrounds Trevor when the dhampir reaches to touch him.
Ah. Then Trevor's in trouble rather than dead. He can't decide which he'd rather at the moment.
The sound that comes from Trevor next is unpleasant; a guttural heave, nearly choking around the bile that's been roiling at the back of his tongue for ages. It's the beginning of speech, or trying to be. His lips form the words but--
Weakly, haltingly, he lifts his head to spit blood and merciful-Lord-knows-what-else across the ground away from Adrian. He may be barbaric, but he's not about to spit on the dhampir unless Adrian asks very sweetly. That clears his throat enough to make room for words.]
Adrian... [It's barely more than a breath behind a weak smile as he faceplants into the dirt again.] I'll be fine. Just need a moment.
[From the look of him, what he needs is antivenom or a casket.]
I don't think a moment is going to do anything but harm.
[Alucard crouches down beside Trevor, his eyes roaming over the Belmont's body but doing nothing yet. Poison moves through a body faster if you attempt movement, and Alucard will do no such thing to endanger Trevor.
What he does do is press gently at what wounds he can see, and then he brings his nose to sniff at the worst of the poison. He doesn't like it, and worse, he can't place it. Not really. Not yet.]
What kind of creature did this to you? Or kinds, I'm aware there's multiple scents here.
[Trevor motions vaguely with one hand. There's a clearing nearby, about fifty yards from the path, where a few creatures' corpses litter the ground in pieces. It's difficult to say how many are there, but the heads Adrian can see suggest at least five.]
Forged, a whole mess of them. Think I tripped a perimeter. A few of them were glowing at the mouth. Tried to give them some space but they're persistent...
It's close, though. Wherever that bastard is hiding, we've nearly found him. Just--
[Just have to get up. Get his Morning Star. Press on. He's had worse than this, he's sure of it. He can't even remember all the chemicals he had to swallow as a child. To build up an immunity, his father said. A fat lot of good that did him now. Though, arguably, perhaps he'd be dead already if not for that aspect of his training.
Trevor jabs his elbows into the ground, though his arms are badly shaking when he tries to heave himself up. This is always the hardest part. Getting up. Once he manages that, everything else gets easier and easier. Just have to get up--
There's that gurgling choke again, and he collapses on his side just before he violently vomits a rather worrying shade of pitch into the ravine beside the road. And there, on the very edge of unconsciousness, it's time to admit that maybe he hasn't had worse than this.]
Sorry. I don't-- Uh. I don't think I'm getting up.
[Alucard sounds a little breathless, but he's down and helping Trevor find a place to sit up. It's an old tree stump in the end, gnarled and scorched and long since wrecked. It's a terrible seat, but it'll do for now.]
Antidote I... [Medicine on the fly. Oh his mother would be proud.]
I have to look and see what kind of thing it is. There might be a natural remedy but you can't move, do I make myself clear Trevor Belmont?
[Even two steps from death, Trevor's contrariness threatens to rear its head. Adrian says: You can't move, and that rebellious little part of Trevor's mind replies: Make me. But it takes every last dreg of his strength to remain upright against the -- frankly soggy -- tree stump, and he can't quite find the breath to argue when the order's given.
So he stays quiet (for once), limp and useless and quite sure this damned forest is going to be his final resting place. And that's-- That's all right, he supposes. There are worse places he could imagine (Dracula's castle is the top of that list), and if nothing else, he's gone down fighting. Maybe he's made Adrian and Sypha's jobs just a tad easier, taking so many of the creatures out as his dying act.
Will they miss him? Probably be better off, but--]
Adrian... [His voice is small, breathless, but Adrian would hear it in the stillness of the clearing.] Thank you for coming. If I don't make it, don't blame yourself. Give Sypha my love. Get a dog and name it after me. Something big. Like one of those wolf-hounds.
[The response is instant and automatic and yes, angry. Alucard understands exactly what this train of thought means, and the implications are enough to petrify him.
One of them dying early from the wounds of some monster has always been a possibility. One they've considered, accounted for, and then had to pull away from because the thought was too painful.
And so here, now, in one of those moments, Alucard still pulls away. It's a violent retreat, one that happens as he pulls the teeth out of one of the night creatures. What comes next is the same awful smell that is clinging to Trevor, and--
--he's got this. He thinks.]
Do you have the antivenomn kit in your gear, Trevor? Moan once for yes, two for no.
[Trevor has to think, to dig deep for the answer to that question. Antivenom kit? He had an antivenom kit? When had that ever been an option? When had he started--
And then it comes to him. A close scrape nearly two months prior that left him relatively unharmed, but sent Adrian and Sypha into a frenzy. They demanded to know why he hadn't come home sooner, chastised him for going alone in the first place, and while they begrudgingly accepted that they couldn't control Trevor's tendency to wander off, they made him promise to take precautions moving forward. Sypha even took it upon herself to compile what she called essentials, rattled off the use of each little kit -- some magical, some alchemical, some practical -- and Trevor had mostly ignored the explanations in favor of worrying over how much bag space this would take up. Bless Adrian and Sypha's paranoia.
But it was important to them, so he kept it at the bottom of his pack during every journey. And there it lay still, satchel still firmly slung cross-body from Trevor's left shoulder.]
It's here. [Another vague motion toward the bag at his side, as he has been ordered not to move.] Bottom of the pack, I think.
[Alucard says nothing. He dives over with vampire speed though and takes the pack. Nimble fingers dig down, feeling small satchel (medical kit) after small satchel (extra knives) until he feels the soft leather exterior they had put the kit in all those months ago.
It's a miracle Trevor kept it on him. Alucard mutters a thank you to whatever God it is that keeps their Belmont the tiniest bit safe in moments like this, and then sets to work.
The kit is a miracle of magic and science, relying on compounds that are laced with magic so that whatever venom there is, it can be counteracted. It only requires the component parts be added into the syringe in a specific order, and then the venom itself. He and Sypha had developed it in response to circumstance, and he's so glad they did.
The first five parts are added into the syringe, and Alucard's hands are rock steady. They remain as such when they add the venom. They're still fine as they inject the serum into Trevor, right next to the bite wound that is the source of all the problems.
Only once the syringe is out do Alucard's hands shake. He places them on flat on the ground, palms down, eyes on Trevor.]
[Trevor, in his current state, can only manage a sharp hiss in response to the injection. Were he whole and well, he'd be cursing Adrian to the seventh layer of hell and back again, because for a long moment, he's quite sure he'd rather die. He's cauterized open wounds with a hot iron that burned less than this. It feels like Adrian's dunked the entirety of his forearm into magma and let it sit for a lark. Was that shit antivenom or acid?]
Please don't.
[That Trevor has the strength to grit his teeth through the words is promising. The sting is slow to fade, but it does, along with the worst of the pain from the bite. Trevor wonders if they'd added something to take the edge off, before quickly arriving at the decision that Sypha and Adrian would probably not elect to make his life easier if he'd gotten to the point he needed to use this kit in the first place. He can practically hear Sypha, If he's been that reckless, he can deal with a little pain.
Unbidden, Trevor reaches out to rest his hand over one of Adrian's. It's filthy -- caked with mud and gore and God knows what else besides -- absent his gloves, because it's always been easier to wield the Morning Star without them. But that small bit of comfort, of touch, is essential just now, even as he feels his heart evening out and strengthening from its feeble staccato. The antivenom is working, and he had no doubt it would, but that's--
That's somewhat less of a relief than he thought it would be.]
[Please don't, and that means everything is going to be just fine. One wouldn't know from how stern and grave Alucard's face is, but he's relieved. Even as Trevor hisses and spits and adjusts to the pain, he's relieved. There's no need for a second dose and the kit works wonders.
Alucard sighs, placing his own hand atop Trevor's. There's a squeeze, soft and cool, contrasting with the horrible sensations roiling through Trevor's veins.]
Shut up about the dog. I'm the only dog shaped thing you two will ever need.
[The joys of your boyfriend being a wolf.
Alucard's eyes remain on the injection site though, carefully observing the blood. He doesn't move to patch it up just yet though, for his fear of a second injection being required has yet to truly fade away.]
[Trevor chuckles, and heaves a slow sigh as his nausea begins to ebb. He doesn't know or care how it's working. He's suddenly feeling a good deal better, and he can't help thinking he's somehow narrowly evaded death's clutches yet again.
Someday, he won't be so lucky. Someday, Adrian or Sypha will find him a stinking corpse in the forests. Or they won't find him at all. Or they'll watch the life leave his eyes in the heat of battle. But that's the grim reality of their work together, that's the bitter pill they all can't seem to swallow. Trevor's the dumb brute. Trevor's luck can't last forever. Trevor's going to go first.
And he's all right with that. Mostly. Better to go first than have to deal with the emotional aftermath of any other possibility.
Trevor glances down at the wound. It's-- seeping is the best word for it, but that's not entirely accurate. Magic or science or whatever is purging this shit from his system has a truly disgusting way of doing so, and it makes his stomach revolt all over again.]
Do you have water? I lost my canteen somewhere. [And his mouth is like a desert, despite feeling like he needs to vomit again.]
I have water, but you're getting yelled at while I give it to you.
[Logically, all three of them have suspected that Trevor will be the first of them to go. It's one of the reasons Alucard and Sypha have come down on Trevor so hard every time he's gone and done something reckless that clearly has a death wish. They're selfish and refuse to let him go. If a death can be prevented, then they should prevent it. Full stop. Nothing is worth sacrificing oneself for, not like this.
Alucard pauses though, for in the anti-venom kit is a small sample jar. He picks that up first, puts it near the seeping wound, and takes a little of the stuff to examine in the lab later.
Then the water. Alucard has it in a flask hidden in his coat, and he puts it to Trevor's lips.]
Why did you go out alone like this?!
[It isn't a yelling volume, but the tone is absolutely furious.]
You can't be angry with me this time. I told you where I was going.
[Truthfully, Adrian still has every right to be angry with him. He didn't have to stay and fight a horde of forged creatures when he realized he'd tripped their alarm. He could have fled, could have high-tailed it back to the manor, and they could have awaited Sypha's return to launch a proper assault. But he chose to stay and fight. And that choice is precisely what landed them in this less-than-ideal situation.
But Trevor is grateful enough for the water that he takes a moment to seriously ponder the question. Hindsight tends to paint the best course of action, but in the moment? It simply doesn't seem like there's any other choice.]
I wasn't expecting to walk straight into an ambush. It doesn't seem like a wise idea to turn your back on them to run. What other options did I have?
You absolutely could have found a way to disengage, you horse's ass!
[Alucard huffs, still waiting to see the final effects of the venom escaping Trevor's system. He's crossed his arms now, seated on the floor and looking deeply undignified in all of it. He can't quite say he cares at the moment.]
We can't go anywhere without a second person right now. It's too dangerous, and I'll not have Sypha come home to the news that you've left this world. Do you understand?
[How is he supposed to argue with that, really? Unlike last time, he probably (absolutely) would be dead, had Adrian not come to find him. It takes the air from him, and he stares up at the bare branches above them for a long contemplative moment. At length, he carefully begins to flex the fingers in his injured hand. He can still move them, at least. That's promising.]
Fine.
[It's as close to an apology as Adrian's likely to get, coupled as it is with a defeated sigh.]
[Alucard gestures down at Trevor's wound which is still being gross. Little bits of vile stuff squirt out, and now the smell? The smell is absolutely rank, and it makes the dhampir's oversensitive nose ache. He pauses, pulling the collar of his coat close to try and mute at least a little of the smell.]
I want to be sure it's out of your system entirely before we head back. And you're getting a bath the moment we're in the door.
[Alucard wants to flop over entirely, but keeps himself upright. Just a little.]
Belmont, would you be acting the same way if it was Sypha home instead of me?
[For once, Trevor doesn't argue with the notion of a bath. Not that he has the strength to refuse it at this juncture, but he's not genuinely thrown off until Adrian's last question.
Would he be acting the same? Why should he act any differently? But the answer's as immediate as it's asked. Because while they terrify Trevor in equal measure, he still seems to be under the impression that Adrian wouldn't care if anything befell Trevor. Or that he wasn't important enough for anyone to warrant mourning. Or that they were both better off -- more effective -- without him anyway. Adrian and Sypha make Trevor better, and make him want to be better. But he doesn't believe for a second that he's more than a whining child to either of them, and he's only himself to blame for it.
Adrian is a vampire prince. Sypha is a magickal powerhouse. Trevor can throw a punch. Useless.
Trevor sighs, and rolls his head forward again, trying to find the words to put to this.]
You don't think you'd handle it better than she would? Not that I'd wish it on either of you, but if one of you were to find me gone...
[He'd want it to be Adrian. He'd trust Adrian to do what needed to be done, were he turned into some monstrosity, raised or forged or however the fuck these bastards toyed with their dead. But that's not permission to be reckless, and Trevor realizes -- perhaps a beat too late -- that he shouldn't treat it as such.]
We'll go together from now on, all right? All three of us. You have my word.
[But rather than conviction, it comes out dull. Defeated.]
That wasn't the point I was trying to make, Trevor.
[Alucard lets out a long breath through his nose, and then rises to his feet. He isn't going far - just to dig properly into his coat and pull out a very small first aid kit that he keeps on his person for well, moments like this. The venom has ceased spewing from the wound, and now it can be dressed.
When Alucard crouches back down, he starts to clean the wound first. There's a little bottle of rubbing alcohol in the kit along with gauze, and so the thing is scrubbed clean first, perhaps with more force than needed.]
You're a reckless idiot on most days that end with a Y. But do you do it more when I'm around because my abilities can help get you out of most situations that you get into, or do you do this exact same kind of shit with Sypha around?
[It isn't about who's finding Trevor dead. It's about how Trevor is calculating risk in the first place, and frankly, that feels worth clarifying.]
[Alcohol -- not just poured, but scrubbed into an open wound -- is enough to take the breath out of him again. His teeth are grit hard enough to make his head throb, and his breath redoubles to catch up with itself when he finds it again. At least he's managed not to cry out. And he'd thank Adrian for the consideration if his head weren't now swimming from the pained delirium.
It takes a long moment to come back to himself, to find the thread of conversation and pick it up again.]
If you'd been even a candlemark later, I'd be dead. And unless you're not telling me something, you had no way of knowing how dire my need. So tell me how you think that's a gamble I'd willingly take.
So yes. I suppose I'd do this exact same kind of shit with Sypha around.
[Adrian actually manages to pry a grunt out of Trevor before the job's done. And a glare. He has to know that was entirely unnecessary, and from the look of him, he couldn't care less.]
Better now you're not trying to rip my damn arm off, thank you.
[And still, Trevor knows it's no more than he deserves.]
Be serious. I am trying to determine how much walking we can get done before we find a carriage house, or if I'll be carrying you about like a princess from one of Sypha's fairy stories.
You get only a moment, and then I make the decision for you.
[Alucard already knows he's going to be carrying around Trevor like a princess. In any other circumstances, he'd even enjoy the act. But here? Now? It's only just another stunning reason why this was a terrible idea for Trevor to undertake.]
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Paws thunder over ground, trampling whatever gets in the way. Sticks, logs, moss, the dead leaves. It continues and continues unti Trevor does come into view, and it's with an awful skid that the wolf stops. It's with a single breath that the wolf is no longer a wolf at all but a man, one tall and lanky and terrified, crouching down to test Trevor's pulse.]
Belmont.
[It's a stern and unhappy voice, one that wants to just start screaming at Trevor for doing something unspeakably stupid.]
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Ah. Then Trevor's in trouble rather than dead. He can't decide which he'd rather at the moment.
The sound that comes from Trevor next is unpleasant; a guttural heave, nearly choking around the bile that's been roiling at the back of his tongue for ages. It's the beginning of speech, or trying to be. His lips form the words but--
Weakly, haltingly, he lifts his head to spit blood and merciful-Lord-knows-what-else across the ground away from Adrian. He may be barbaric, but he's not about to spit on the dhampir
unless Adrian asks very sweetly. That clears his throat enough to make room for words.]Adrian... [It's barely more than a breath behind a weak smile as he faceplants into the dirt again.] I'll be fine. Just need a moment.
[From the look of him, what he needs is antivenom or a casket.]
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[Alucard crouches down beside Trevor, his eyes roaming over the Belmont's body but doing nothing yet. Poison moves through a body faster if you attempt movement, and Alucard will do no such thing to endanger Trevor.
What he does do is press gently at what wounds he can see, and then he brings his nose to sniff at the worst of the poison. He doesn't like it, and worse, he can't place it. Not really. Not yet.]
What kind of creature did this to you? Or kinds, I'm aware there's multiple scents here.
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Forged, a whole mess of them. Think I tripped a perimeter. A few of them were glowing at the mouth. Tried to give them some space but they're persistent...
It's close, though. Wherever that bastard is hiding, we've nearly found him. Just--
[Just have to get up. Get his Morning Star. Press on. He's had worse than this, he's sure of it. He can't even remember all the chemicals he had to swallow as a child. To build up an immunity, his father said. A fat lot of good that did him now. Though, arguably, perhaps he'd be dead already if not for that aspect of his training.
Trevor jabs his elbows into the ground, though his arms are badly shaking when he tries to heave himself up. This is always the hardest part. Getting up. Once he manages that, everything else gets easier and easier. Just have to get up--
There's that gurgling choke again, and he collapses on his side just before he violently vomits a rather worrying shade of pitch into the ravine beside the road. And there, on the very edge of unconsciousness, it's time to admit that maybe he hasn't had worse than this.]
Sorry. I don't-- Uh. I don't think I'm getting up.
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[Alucard sounds a little breathless, but he's down and helping Trevor find a place to sit up. It's an old tree stump in the end, gnarled and scorched and long since wrecked. It's a terrible seat, but it'll do for now.]
Antidote I... [Medicine on the fly. Oh his mother would be proud.]
I have to look and see what kind of thing it is. There might be a natural remedy but you can't move, do I make myself clear Trevor Belmont?
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So he stays quiet (for once), limp and useless and quite sure this damned forest is going to be his final resting place. And that's-- That's all right, he supposes. There are worse places he could imagine (Dracula's castle is the top of that list), and if nothing else, he's gone down fighting. Maybe he's made Adrian and Sypha's jobs just a tad easier, taking so many of the creatures out as his dying act.
Will they miss him? Probably be better off, but--]
Adrian... [His voice is small, breathless, but Adrian would hear it in the stillness of the clearing.] Thank you for coming. If I don't make it, don't blame yourself. Give Sypha my love. Get a dog and name it after me. Something big. Like one of those wolf-hounds.
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[The response is instant and automatic and yes, angry. Alucard understands exactly what this train of thought means, and the implications are enough to petrify him.
One of them dying early from the wounds of some monster has always been a possibility. One they've considered, accounted for, and then had to pull away from because the thought was too painful.
And so here, now, in one of those moments, Alucard still pulls away. It's a violent retreat, one that happens as he pulls the teeth out of one of the night creatures. What comes next is the same awful smell that is clinging to Trevor, and--
--he's got this. He thinks.]
Do you have the antivenomn kit in your gear, Trevor? Moan once for yes, two for no.
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And then it comes to him. A close scrape nearly two months prior that left him relatively unharmed, but sent Adrian and Sypha into a frenzy. They demanded to know why he hadn't come home sooner, chastised him for going alone in the first place, and while they begrudgingly accepted that they couldn't control Trevor's tendency to wander off, they made him promise to take precautions moving forward. Sypha even took it upon herself to compile what she called essentials, rattled off the use of each little kit -- some magical, some alchemical, some practical -- and Trevor had mostly ignored the explanations in favor of worrying over how much bag space this would take up. Bless Adrian and Sypha's paranoia.
But it was important to them, so he kept it at the bottom of his pack during every journey. And there it lay still, satchel still firmly slung cross-body from Trevor's left shoulder.]
It's here. [Another vague motion toward the bag at his side, as he has been ordered not to move.] Bottom of the pack, I think.
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It's a miracle Trevor kept it on him. Alucard mutters a thank you to whatever God it is that keeps their Belmont the tiniest bit safe in moments like this, and then sets to work.
The kit is a miracle of magic and science, relying on compounds that are laced with magic so that whatever venom there is, it can be counteracted. It only requires the component parts be added into the syringe in a specific order, and then the venom itself. He and Sypha had developed it in response to circumstance, and he's so glad they did.
The first five parts are added into the syringe, and Alucard's hands are rock steady. They remain as such when they add the venom. They're still fine as they inject the serum into Trevor, right next to the bite wound that is the source of all the problems.
Only once the syringe is out do Alucard's hands shake. He places them on flat on the ground, palms down, eyes on Trevor.]
If I need to make a second dose, I will.
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Please don't.
[That Trevor has the strength to grit his teeth through the words is promising. The sting is slow to fade, but it does, along with the worst of the pain from the bite. Trevor wonders if they'd added something to take the edge off, before quickly arriving at the decision that Sypha and Adrian would probably not elect to make his life easier if he'd gotten to the point he needed to use this kit in the first place. He can practically hear Sypha, If he's been that reckless, he can deal with a little pain.
Unbidden, Trevor reaches out to rest his hand over one of Adrian's. It's filthy -- caked with mud and gore and God knows what else besides -- absent his gloves, because it's always been easier to wield the Morning Star without them. But that small bit of comfort, of touch, is essential just now, even as he feels his heart evening out and strengthening from its feeble staccato. The antivenom is working, and he had no doubt it would, but that's--
That's somewhat less of a relief than he thought it would be.]
I'm serious about the dog, you know.
no subject
Alucard sighs, placing his own hand atop Trevor's. There's a squeeze, soft and cool, contrasting with the horrible sensations roiling through Trevor's veins.]
Shut up about the dog. I'm the only dog shaped thing you two will ever need.
[The joys of your boyfriend being a wolf.
Alucard's eyes remain on the injection site though, carefully observing the blood. He doesn't move to patch it up just yet though, for his fear of a second injection being required has yet to truly fade away.]
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Someday, he won't be so lucky. Someday, Adrian or Sypha will find him a stinking corpse in the forests. Or they won't find him at all. Or they'll watch the life leave his eyes in the heat of battle. But that's the grim reality of their work together, that's the bitter pill they all can't seem to swallow. Trevor's the dumb brute. Trevor's luck can't last forever. Trevor's going to go first.
And he's all right with that. Mostly. Better to go first than have to deal with the emotional aftermath of any other possibility.
Trevor glances down at the wound. It's-- seeping is the best word for it, but that's not entirely accurate. Magic or science or whatever is purging this shit from his system has a truly disgusting way of doing so, and it makes his stomach revolt all over again.]
Do you have water? I lost my canteen somewhere. [And his mouth is like a desert, despite feeling like he needs to vomit again.]
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[Logically, all three of them have suspected that Trevor will be the first of them to go. It's one of the reasons Alucard and Sypha have come down on Trevor so hard every time he's gone and done something reckless that clearly has a death wish. They're selfish and refuse to let him go. If a death can be prevented, then they should prevent it. Full stop. Nothing is worth sacrificing oneself for, not like this.
Alucard pauses though, for in the anti-venom kit is a small sample jar. He picks that up first, puts it near the seeping wound, and takes a little of the stuff to examine in the lab later.
Then the water. Alucard has it in a flask hidden in his coat, and he puts it to Trevor's lips.]
Why did you go out alone like this?!
[It isn't a yelling volume, but the tone is absolutely furious.]
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[Truthfully, Adrian still has every right to be angry with him. He didn't have to stay and fight a horde of forged creatures when he realized he'd tripped their alarm. He could have fled, could have high-tailed it back to the manor, and they could have awaited Sypha's return to launch a proper assault. But he chose to stay and fight. And that choice is precisely what landed them in this less-than-ideal situation.
But Trevor is grateful enough for the water that he takes a moment to seriously ponder the question. Hindsight tends to paint the best course of action, but in the moment? It simply doesn't seem like there's any other choice.]
I wasn't expecting to walk straight into an ambush. It doesn't seem like a wise idea to turn your back on them to run. What other options did I have?
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[Alucard huffs, still waiting to see the final effects of the venom escaping Trevor's system. He's crossed his arms now, seated on the floor and looking deeply undignified in all of it. He can't quite say he cares at the moment.]
We can't go anywhere without a second person right now. It's too dangerous, and I'll not have Sypha come home to the news that you've left this world. Do you understand?
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Fine.
[It's as close to an apology as Adrian's likely to get, coupled as it is with a defeated sigh.]
Can we get out of this damned forest, please?
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[Alucard gestures down at Trevor's wound which is still being gross. Little bits of vile stuff squirt out, and now the smell? The smell is absolutely rank, and it makes the dhampir's oversensitive nose ache. He pauses, pulling the collar of his coat close to try and mute at least a little of the smell.]
I want to be sure it's out of your system entirely before we head back. And you're getting a bath the moment we're in the door.
[Alucard wants to flop over entirely, but keeps himself upright. Just a little.]
Belmont, would you be acting the same way if it was Sypha home instead of me?
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Would he be acting the same? Why should he act any differently? But the answer's as immediate as it's asked. Because while they terrify Trevor in equal measure, he still seems to be under the impression that Adrian wouldn't care if anything befell Trevor. Or that he wasn't important enough for anyone to warrant mourning. Or that they were both better off -- more effective -- without him anyway. Adrian and Sypha make Trevor better, and make him want to be better. But he doesn't believe for a second that he's more than a whining child to either of them, and he's only himself to blame for it.
Adrian is a vampire prince. Sypha is a magickal powerhouse. Trevor can throw a punch. Useless.
Trevor sighs, and rolls his head forward again, trying to find the words to put to this.]
You don't think you'd handle it better than she would? Not that I'd wish it on either of you, but if one of you were to find me gone...
[He'd want it to be Adrian. He'd trust Adrian to do what needed to be done, were he turned into some monstrosity, raised or forged or however the fuck these bastards toyed with their dead. But that's not permission to be reckless, and Trevor realizes -- perhaps a beat too late -- that he shouldn't treat it as such.]
We'll go together from now on, all right? All three of us. You have my word.
[But rather than conviction, it comes out dull. Defeated.]
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[Alucard lets out a long breath through his nose, and then rises to his feet. He isn't going far - just to dig properly into his coat and pull out a very small first aid kit that he keeps on his person for well, moments like this. The venom has ceased spewing from the wound, and now it can be dressed.
When Alucard crouches back down, he starts to clean the wound first. There's a little bottle of rubbing alcohol in the kit along with gauze, and so the thing is scrubbed clean first, perhaps with more force than needed.]
You're a reckless idiot on most days that end with a Y. But do you do it more when I'm around because my abilities can help get you out of most situations that you get into, or do you do this exact same kind of shit with Sypha around?
[It isn't about who's finding Trevor dead. It's about how Trevor is calculating risk in the first place, and frankly, that feels worth clarifying.]
I will hold you to those words though, Trevor.
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It takes a long moment to come back to himself, to find the thread of conversation and pick it up again.]
If you'd been even a candlemark later, I'd be dead. And unless you're not telling me something, you had no way of knowing how dire my need. So tell me how you think that's a gamble I'd willingly take.
So yes. I suppose I'd do this exact same kind of shit with Sypha around.
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[The rest of Alucard is still furious. Furious, scrubbing at Trevor's wound with more force than needed, and--
--done with that much. Alucard huffs, and next come the bandages. He wraps the wound tightly, and once it's tied, Alucard tapes Trevor's arm lightly.]
How bad is the pain?
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Better now you're not trying to rip my damn arm off, thank you.
[And still, Trevor knows it's no more than he deserves.]
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[Trevor rolls his eyes, tries to push himself up from his stump perch.]
I'll be fine. Just give me a moment.
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[Alucard already knows he's going to be carrying around Trevor like a princess. In any other circumstances, he'd even enjoy the act. But here? Now? It's only just another stunning reason why this was a terrible idea for Trevor to undertake.]
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