[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.]
[Given that Adrian is all heart tonight, Trevor can't help feeling this is merely the illusion of choice. He would be carried, either against his will or of his own volition, and Adrian's merely giving him the opportunity to preserve his dignity.
Which he'll take, as obnoxiously as he can manage.]
Fine. [Trevor sighs, and holds an arm up for Adrian to help him.] Carry me, my prince.
[Alucard huffs, and leans down. Trevor's legs get scooped up under one of Alucard's arms, and the rest of him is gathered up in the other. It looks deeply ridiculous, a skinny willow tree of a man carting around a thick, well built thing like Trevor. But that's reality right now.
He huffs softly.]
There. Put an arm around my neck, please? It'll be more comfortable for you.
[It doesn't only look ridiculous, it feels ridiculous. Logically, Trevor knows Adrian can toss him around whenever he pleases, but knowing the dhampir's capabilities rarely makes the reality of it easier to digest. It's a sobering reminder; Adrian allows Trevor to touch him -- hell, allows Trevor to live -- simply because Trevor has earned the privilege.
Gingerly, Trevor lifts his bandaged arm around Adrian's shoulders. He's not sure how this is meant to be more comfortable for him, but he's too chuffed and tired to argue at the moment.]
[What matter is ridiculous when moving somewhere safe is much more important? Alucard has no problem carrying Trevor around like this. He weighs as much as a grape, maybe two, to the dhampir.
It's good, having that arm around him. Means that Trevor is present and responsive.]
You can close your eyes, if you'd like. Get a little bit of rest.
[That seems to be the permission Trevor needs to finally consciousness. He's been exhausted beyond words for the better part of the day, and anything that happens between now and the manor is completely out of his control. Better to take himself out of the equation for a while, eschew embarrassment.
He's accustomed to falling asleep like this, in any case; arms wound around Adrian's shoulders, face buried in his hair, surrounded by his scent. It's no great chore to do so now.]
[The rest goes like this: Alucard manages to get them both to the nearest carriage house, which is a good two miles away. He moves as a human and not as a vampire, and for that, it takes much more time. But he's able to rest, and once a carriage does arrive with the morning light, Alucard is able to pay to make the darn thing go at double speed for his companion's sake.
Once home, he undresses Trevor entirely. Cleans him off, then examines the additional injurires. Dresses them, treats them, then tucks Trevor in under several layers of blankets so that he will be warm and safe.
The fire is pointless, since the house is heated. Alucard lights it anyway, then sits in bed reading until Trevor decides to come to again.]
[Trevor's in and out of consciousness for nearly a full day, some of which is spent burning off the last of a lingering fever. But the chills aren't much beneath his mountain of blankets, and Adrian's presence lends an air of safety that keeps him anchored whenever he starts to shiver. And once the fever has gone, Trevor elects to press his forehead against Adrian's waist, if only because the dhampir's scent has always helped him sleep soundly.
Blissfully, he doesn't dream. He considers that a blessing, when he finally wakes well into the following night. It's unusual for him, but he's in no rush to roll out of bed just yet. His arm still aches, along with a few of the deeper gashes along his ribcage, and he just wants to stay still for a while, even if consciousness continues to impose itself upon him.]
What time is it? [He grumbles, lifting his head minutely.]
[Alucard looks up from the book he is holding, eyes settling down on Trevor. He's content being a Belmont pillow, and having an excuse to catch up on an alarming backlog of books.]
[It will pass. It always does, but Trevor will be damned if he doesn't take the opportunity to be as dramatic as humanly possible about it in the meantime. Sometimes, Adrian actually believes it, and not that he needs an excuse to allow for touch, but...
Trevor rolls onto his back and grumbles as he scrubs the heel of his hand against his temple. His head aches, and he'd blame it on the potion if that fruit weren't already hanging so low.]
Have we got any of that willow bark shit?
[Adrian's given it to him before. Shit, because that's how it tastes, but it does the trick for pain.]
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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.
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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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Which he'll take, as obnoxiously as he can manage.]
Fine. [Trevor sighs, and holds an arm up for Adrian to help him.] Carry me, my prince.
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He huffs softly.]
There. Put an arm around my neck, please? It'll be more comfortable for you.
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Gingerly, Trevor lifts his bandaged arm around Adrian's shoulders. He's not sure how this is meant to be more comfortable for him, but he's too chuffed and tired to argue at the moment.]
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It's good, having that arm around him. Means that Trevor is present and responsive.]
You can close your eyes, if you'd like. Get a little bit of rest.
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He's accustomed to falling asleep like this, in any case; arms wound around Adrian's shoulders, face buried in his hair, surrounded by his scent. It's no great chore to do so now.]
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Once home, he undresses Trevor entirely. Cleans him off, then examines the additional injurires. Dresses them, treats them, then tucks Trevor in under several layers of blankets so that he will be warm and safe.
The fire is pointless, since the house is heated. Alucard lights it anyway, then sits in bed reading until Trevor decides to come to again.]
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Blissfully, he doesn't dream. He considers that a blessing, when he finally wakes well into the following night. It's unusual for him, but he's in no rush to roll out of bed just yet. His arm still aches, along with a few of the deeper gashes along his ribcage, and he just wants to stay still for a while, even if consciousness continues to impose itself upon him.]
What time is it? [He grumbles, lifting his head minutely.]
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[Alucard looks up from the book he is holding, eyes settling down on Trevor. He's content being a Belmont pillow, and having an excuse to catch up on an alarming backlog of books.]
How are you feeling?
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[It will pass. It always does, but Trevor will be damned if he doesn't take the opportunity to be as dramatic as humanly possible about it in the meantime. Sometimes, Adrian actually believes it, and not that he needs an excuse to allow for touch, but...
Trevor rolls onto his back and grumbles as he scrubs the heel of his hand against his temple. His head aches, and he'd blame it on the potion if that fruit weren't already hanging so low.]
Have we got any of that willow bark shit?
[Adrian's given it to him before. Shit, because that's how it tastes, but it does the trick for pain.]
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