[ And he does. It's not difficult work, at least not Trevor's part of it. Just- upsetting, seeing those sores. He's not taken Sypha's clothes off. It hasn't occurred to him that he might need to. So those have been there all this time, and he didn't know.
Maybe it's best that she didn't wake up. She'd have been in terrible pain.
It's it's only once all those sores are cleaned and bound that his gaze turns to Alucard. He's changed, as humans do with time. Grown into himself a little more. He was never ugly before, certainly not after being given time to recover, but he's- he's not afraid anymore, and that's more beautiful than anything else.
Those thoughts don't last long, though, because he notices how Alucard walks. As Alucard brings the clothes and they set about dressing Sypha, he notices. ]
[It takes Alucard a moment to realize that Trevor is asking after Alucard, not Sypha. He was ready to speak about that much. So he does look a little thrown, but recovers quickly.]
I just have to be careful about how much pressure I exert at any given time. Given the state of things, it could have been far worse and debilitating.
[There. Sypha's dressed, and Alucard has a spare blanket under the cot. He fishes it out and then tucks Sypha in, making sure she'll be warm.]
[ He didn't do enough. Not enough for Alucard. Maybe not enough for Sypha.
She looks so small, so frail without all of the furs. He's sure she'll be warm enough in here, but still, every part of him is screaming at him to do something to make this right. ]
[ He's touching him. He's touching him. Trevor stands a little straighter when Alucard's hand touches his shoulder, trying not to lean into the touch like the over-affectionate creature that he is. He knows not to. They became clear on not touching Alucard a long time ago.
But Alucard didn't touch him, back then. This is new. Good. ]
I will.
[ He does. He talks to her a lot, as the next few days pass. Speakers like stories, he knows, and he isn't quite clear on whether that means they need them to survive and he isn't willing to take chances. So he tells her stories. They're not good ones. Most of them consist of imagining a monster made of a mixture of disparate parts and then saying 'it was bad and it died'. But he's trying.
And he tries to help Alucard in his normal work, as well. He can't do a lot, not without showing himself to people and forcing Alucard to explain why there's a person in his house (it does not occur to him that 'he brought a patient here and is waiting for them to be treated' is a completely viable explanation as well as being the truth). But he can keep fetching water. If nobody is in the clinic he can carry things and clean. And he can weave while he tells Sypha stories. He makes bandages and dressings and works on and off on a new robe for the speaker.
Sypha's woken a few times by now, though never for more than a minute or so at a time and never enough to really be coherent. It's enough. She's recovering.
But he still worries. It's evening on the fourth day, and the clinic is as closed for the night as it can be when Alucard is willing to answer the door for random fairies in the small hours of the morning. Most of Trevor is sat on the floor by the first, with a few of his moths flitting around lamps. ]
Thank you. I'm going to go change and then head out.
[The next few days are routine for Alucard, in truth, as much as there can ever be a routine. He goes to the markets in the morning to get food. He comes back and prepares breakfast, usually just rice and a little bit of protein, or else he takes the same broth that he gives to Sypha every few hours. It isn't much, and he's worried it won't take. She needs to be awake to get real food into her, and broth can only carry so much.
He sees patients. Makes their perscriptions in front of them, explaining each step and how it all works. He goes out to see those that cannot travel to his clinic, and then he rests at night. Trevor's presence is noted but hardly disruptive, and that his definition of help includes making bandages and dressings? That means even more.
When Trevor's question comes, it's after a particularly long day. Alucard's been relying on the cane he has for the day, as he has had to do more running around than he'd like. It makes some things like cooking a true pain, so tonight he's settled with some leftover cold meats and not much else.]
I can't say for sure either way, Trevor. She has to be awake more than she is for me to make any kind of determination.
[The last thing Alucard intends to do is to warm some of the remaining water and rest his feet in it.]
[ The hardest thing about the bandages is making them not seem too fine. He doesn't understand a lot about humans, but he knows that if Alucard went around bandaging people with silk then it would bring suspicion onto him. He doesn't like the results, but they're appropriate for the task.
He's working on a sheet of the ugly, uneven cloth now, as he frets. This has been the first really bad day he's been here to see. And it's clear that no matter what Alucard said earlier, the injuries do still trouble him. Humans are bad at healing. Slow. Sometimes they just don't heal at all. It scares him. ]
She's been waking up a lot today. [ Not enough to eat, and not enough for her to even start to understand where she is. But a good few times. He's saying it mostly for himself. Alucard- probably already knows how these things go better than he does. ] Is there anything I can do, to make this easier?
In truth, I don't think so. Fluids have been helping, but we really, really need her awake for longer to get something substantial in her body.
[He'll stay home all day tomorrow. He cleared appointments and bought a few days worth of supplies. Besides, he needs to rest and not push any of his own healing. Alucard knows that much.]
A lot of this process is a waiting game, I'm afraid.
Humans heal so slowly. I don’t know how you get anything done.
[ He huffs at it quietly, holding the cloth up to the firelight to watch it flicker through the too-wide holes. It doesn’t look like the work of a master weaver. Which is infuriating but also exactly what one needs for bandages not to raise concern. ]
Will she be able to leave, when she gets better? Her caravan will have moved on by now, I’ll need to track them down.
[Alucard takes a few bites of food before continuing, and he evaluates Trevor's work from his own distance. It's nice, having supplies without paying for them.]
Hopefully she'll wake up soon. It'd be nice to have something to call her other than just 'plague lady'.
[ Not that giving one's name to him would be the best idea in the world to someone who doesn't know how bad he is at fairy-ing. But at least he can have a fake name to call her by. He sets the cloth down. He doesn't really like looking at the imperfect work, and it'll be a relief when it's shredded into bandages. And so he turns his back on it, scooting over to Alucard's table to sit by his feet. Watching his hands, how they're bony in places and acid-marked in others, with that shiny burn scar along one. ]
Is it easier now?
[ Touching he means, not that he's giving any indication that that's what he's talking about. ]
...I've just been referring to her as a Speaker, which seems a slight step up from plague lady.
[It comes with a very soft laugh. Alucard doesn't mind that Trevor's bad at fairying, although he knows that from experience already. What does surprise him is that Trevor moves closer, but not up. There is, indeed, a chair across from him. Alucard pauses, then looks down.]
You don't have to stay on the floor, you know.
[Alucard pauses, then gives an honest response.]
I flinch less at things now, if that's what you mean.
But there are other speakers. There aren't other plague ladies.
[ He looks up at Alucard, then at the chair. And then moves to sit there in a flurry of moths. He can follow instructions! Look how good he is at following instructions!
Is that what he means? He doesn't really know. ]
I think- I think that's what I mean. You touched me before. All on your own. It was- nice.
[ He made it easier. He made it easier. He perks up, not at all unlike a dog that’s been told it’s doing well. ]
I’ll tell Eight she did well when I next see her.
[ Talking to the dogs is just a Trevor being weird thing, not a fairy thing. He doesn’t reach out to touch Alucard, he still knows better, but his smile could melt ice. ]
Eight is- my sister brought her to her library because she was hurt. And she didn’t get better, she just lost the parts of her that hurt. She’s fine there, but she wouldn’t be able to survive in the human world. Dogs need all their inside bits out here, not just some of them.
[ Sometimes dogs don’t have enough organs and it’s sad. Sad enough that he won’t hit on Alucard in the same tag as discussing it. Instead, he thinks. ]
But I owe you for looking after plague lady, so- I’ll see what I can do.
[ He can’t bring Eight to Alucard. But maybe a way to make her presence known. To make it feel like she’s there. ]
[ Only for an hour. Only for an hour but still an hour. Another hour sat by the little pond with Alucard, while Eight clambers on top of him, all fluff and happiness and big pink tongue. Like before. ]
I'll take you. And I'll bring you back, I promise, the second you ask.
I like it. It makes it hard to hunt, but it's nice. Humans are good at making light and noises.
[ He would like it. So many candles to flit around, people to observe as they engage in people-business every hour they can. He's not sure if it's something he could deal with for a long time, but in the moment it's exciting. ]
[ He knows that this is pushing it a little far. But he’s never made a secret of his fondness for the-man-who-is-not-his-husband. And this is all familiar in a wonderful way. The domesticity of it, of sitting opposite Alucard while he eats and just talking. Of weaving while he grinds herbs for medicine, both focussed on work too much to speak but quietly acknowledging the others’ presence.
He loves Alucard. He has for a long time. And his presence is so soft and calming that it barely hurts at all that it isn’t reciprocated. It’s enough just to love him and be allowed in his presence. ]
I’m glad you didn’t stay. You wouldn’t have grown it, if you had. You wouldn’t be helping people.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ And he does. It's not difficult work, at least not Trevor's part of it. Just- upsetting, seeing those sores. He's not taken Sypha's clothes off. It hasn't occurred to him that he might need to. So those have been there all this time, and he didn't know.
Maybe it's best that she didn't wake up. She'd have been in terrible pain.
It's it's only once all those sores are cleaned and bound that his gaze turns to Alucard. He's changed, as humans do with time. Grown into himself a little more. He was never ugly before, certainly not after being given time to recover, but he's- he's not afraid anymore, and that's more beautiful than anything else.
Those thoughts don't last long, though, because he notices how Alucard walks. As Alucard brings the clothes and they set about dressing Sypha, he notices. ]
It still hurts?
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[It takes Alucard a moment to realize that Trevor is asking after Alucard, not Sypha. He was ready to speak about that much. So he does look a little thrown, but recovers quickly.]
I just have to be careful about how much pressure I exert at any given time. Given the state of things, it could have been far worse and debilitating.
[There. Sypha's dressed, and Alucard has a spare blanket under the cot. He fishes it out and then tucks Sypha in, making sure she'll be warm.]
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She looks so small, so frail without all of the furs. He's sure she'll be warm enough in here, but still, every part of him is screaming at him to do something to make this right. ]
Would it be easier if I went to the market?
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[He smiles softly, and to make a point, reaches over to gently pat Trevor's shoulder.]
Stay with her. Tell her there will be food soon.
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But Alucard didn't touch him, back then. This is new. Good. ]
I will.
[ He does. He talks to her a lot, as the next few days pass. Speakers like stories, he knows, and he isn't quite clear on whether that means they need them to survive and he isn't willing to take chances. So he tells her stories. They're not good ones. Most of them consist of imagining a monster made of a mixture of disparate parts and then saying 'it was bad and it died'. But he's trying.
And he tries to help Alucard in his normal work, as well. He can't do a lot, not without showing himself to people and forcing Alucard to explain why there's a person in his house (it does not occur to him that 'he brought a patient here and is waiting for them to be treated' is a completely viable explanation as well as being the truth). But he can keep fetching water. If nobody is in the clinic he can carry things and clean. And he can weave while he tells Sypha stories. He makes bandages and dressings and works on and off on a new robe for the speaker.
Sypha's woken a few times by now, though never for more than a minute or so at a time and never enough to really be coherent. It's enough. She's recovering.
But he still worries. It's evening on the fourth day, and the clinic is as closed for the night as it can be when Alucard is willing to answer the door for random fairies in the small hours of the morning. Most of Trevor is sat on the floor by the first, with a few of his moths flitting around lamps. ]
Will she not heal all the way, like you didn't?
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[The next few days are routine for Alucard, in truth, as much as there can ever be a routine. He goes to the markets in the morning to get food. He comes back and prepares breakfast, usually just rice and a little bit of protein, or else he takes the same broth that he gives to Sypha every few hours. It isn't much, and he's worried it won't take. She needs to be awake to get real food into her, and broth can only carry so much.
He sees patients. Makes their perscriptions in front of them, explaining each step and how it all works. He goes out to see those that cannot travel to his clinic, and then he rests at night. Trevor's presence is noted but hardly disruptive, and that his definition of help includes making bandages and dressings? That means even more.
When Trevor's question comes, it's after a particularly long day. Alucard's been relying on the cane he has for the day, as he has had to do more running around than he'd like. It makes some things like cooking a true pain, so tonight he's settled with some leftover cold meats and not much else.]
I can't say for sure either way, Trevor. She has to be awake more than she is for me to make any kind of determination.
[The last thing Alucard intends to do is to warm some of the remaining water and rest his feet in it.]
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He's working on a sheet of the ugly, uneven cloth now, as he frets. This has been the first really bad day he's been here to see. And it's clear that no matter what Alucard said earlier, the injuries do still trouble him. Humans are bad at healing. Slow. Sometimes they just don't heal at all. It scares him. ]
She's been waking up a lot today. [ Not enough to eat, and not enough for her to even start to understand where she is. But a good few times. He's saying it mostly for himself. Alucard- probably already knows how these things go better than he does. ] Is there anything I can do, to make this easier?
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[He'll stay home all day tomorrow. He cleared appointments and bought a few days worth of supplies. Besides, he needs to rest and not push any of his own healing. Alucard knows that much.]
A lot of this process is a waiting game, I'm afraid.
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[ He huffs at it quietly, holding the cloth up to the firelight to watch it flicker through the too-wide holes. It doesn’t look like the work of a master weaver. Which is infuriating but also exactly what one needs for bandages not to raise concern. ]
Will she be able to leave, when she gets better? Her caravan will have moved on by now, I’ll need to track them down.
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[Alucard takes a few bites of food before continuing, and he evaluates Trevor's work from his own distance. It's nice, having supplies without paying for them.]
She will. That much I can promise you.
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[ Not that giving one's name to him would be the best idea in the world to someone who doesn't know how bad he is at fairy-ing. But at least he can have a fake name to call her by. He sets the cloth down. He doesn't really like looking at the imperfect work, and it'll be a relief when it's shredded into bandages. And so he turns his back on it, scooting over to Alucard's table to sit by his feet. Watching his hands, how they're bony in places and acid-marked in others, with that shiny burn scar along one. ]
Is it easier now?
[ Touching he means, not that he's giving any indication that that's what he's talking about. ]
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[It comes with a very soft laugh. Alucard doesn't mind that Trevor's bad at fairying, although he knows that from experience already. What does surprise him is that Trevor moves closer, but not up. There is, indeed, a chair across from him. Alucard pauses, then looks down.]
You don't have to stay on the floor, you know.
[Alucard pauses, then gives an honest response.]
I flinch less at things now, if that's what you mean.
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[ He looks up at Alucard, then at the chair. And then moves to sit there in a flurry of moths. He can follow instructions! Look how good he is at following instructions!
Is that what he means? He doesn't really know. ]
I think- I think that's what I mean. You touched me before. All on your own. It was- nice.
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The culture here is a little more touchy in general. I've had to adjust, but your sister's dog and yourself made it a lot easier to manage.
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I’ll tell Eight she did well when I next see her.
[ Talking to the dogs is just a Trevor being weird thing, not a fairy thing. He doesn’t reach out to touch Alucard, he still knows better, but his smile could melt ice. ]
You got so handsome, too.
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[He really misses Eight sometimes, okay? She was a Good Dog and--
--oh.
It's pretty much impossible to hide the scarlet color on Alucard's face at that.]
I...thank you?
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Eight is- my sister brought her to her library because she was hurt. And she didn’t get better, she just lost the parts of her that hurt. She’s fine there, but she wouldn’t be able to survive in the human world. Dogs need all their inside bits out here, not just some of them.
[ Sometimes dogs don’t have enough organs and it’s sad. Sad enough that he won’t hit on Alucard in the same tag as discussing it. Instead, he thinks. ]
But I owe you for looking after plague lady, so- I’ll see what I can do.
[ He can’t bring Eight to Alucard. But maybe a way to make her presence known. To make it feel like she’s there. ]
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When the Speaker is better, perhaps we can take an hour or so back to where we were?
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[ Only for an hour. Only for an hour but still an hour. Another hour sat by the little pond with Alucard, while Eight clambers on top of him, all fluff and happiness and big pink tongue. Like before. ]
I'll take you. And I'll bring you back, I promise, the second you ask.
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[And Eight. Because you can't cuddle a dog like that in this place.]
As you've already noticed, this city doesn't do quiet nights.
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[ He would like it. So many candles to flit around, people to observe as they engage in people-business every hour they can. He's not sure if it's something he could deal with for a long time, but in the moment it's exciting. ]
May I touch you? Just for a moment?
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And it's been safe for years now. Wonderful and not entirely without peril, but far better than Wallachia could ever be.
To the question, the alchemist nods.]
You may.
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To carefully touch at Alucard's beard. He tilts his head and then laughs, withdrawing his hand. ]
Never been able to manage that, myself. I'm jealous.
[ Always stubble, never beard. ]
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It makes me look a little older. Helps people take my medical advice seriously.
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[ He knows that this is pushing it a little far. But he’s never made a secret of his fondness for the-man-who-is-not-his-husband. And this is all familiar in a wonderful way. The domesticity of it, of sitting opposite Alucard while he eats and just talking. Of weaving while he grinds herbs for medicine, both focussed on work too much to speak but quietly acknowledging the others’ presence.
He loves Alucard. He has for a long time. And his presence is so soft and calming that it barely hurts at all that it isn’t reciprocated. It’s enough just to love him and be allowed in his presence. ]
I’m glad you didn’t stay. You wouldn’t have grown it, if you had. You wouldn’t be helping people.
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