Alucard knows that much. He knows that because below him is not hard wood and a burnt rug. He knows that because the room does not contain a single piece of metal in a perfect circle, left on the floor where Dracula fell. He knows because there is something soft below him and too many hands and--
--and he bolts upright with a horrible speed. Looks around wide eyed, certain of what happened last night. That he nearly died, killed in his own defense, and in a horrible fit of rage and regret and shame and so many other things that sent him so far down that he may has well been drowning, he dragged himself to the place of even worse shame and regret.
There's a faint stickiness on his person. That's dried blood. His eyes hurt, that's from the tears. But he isn't where he was, his entire mind aches, and nothing makes sense...]
[ He's trying very hard to not put the dots together.
There's only so much that ice will do for silver burns, but Sypha's done her best anyway. A thin layer of frost to bring the swelling down and numb the pain, for all that matters while he's asleep. She's asleep in her chair now, slumped forward on the bed, hand outstretched so that her fingers graze Alucard's.
Trevor's taken over treatment now that the medicine is as done as it's going to get. It's half old Belmont stuff and, in truth, half him just making shit up to replace ingredients they don't have to hand. Where the fuck is he going to find grave dirt or corpsefly larvae an hour before dawn? The medicine takes the form of a bowl of thin, chalky, pale grey liquid. He dips strips of gauze into it and smooths them over the burns. He's leaning over Alucard, working his way over the burns on his stomach when he bolts upright and practically headbutts him across the room, forehead colliding with his lower jaw.
He reaches out and manages to steady the bowl, avoiding so much as a drop spilled even as he himself gets knocked right out of his own chair and only narrowly avoids falling to the floor.
It's a guest room, as far as he can tell. The first one they found that wasn't occupied by corpses and didn't seem like it had been in use recently. It's dusty, but the bed is soft and there aren't any naked corpses in it so as far as rooms go it's pretty good. ]
Shit, watch where you're waking up. [ He says, setting the bowl down out of headbutt-range before bringing a hand up to his face, feeling at his jaw to check for damage. ] Almost good-morninged my teeth out there.
[The passing detail in just about all of this is that Alucard has wild sex hair. He's sat up now, and his hair is just about everywhere and a true mess in addition to that. It adds to his current expression though, that of wide-eyed, bug fuck terror that morphs immediately into getting out of the bed.
His legs wobble but fine. They were wobbling before, and there's a voice, it's one he--
--Trevor. Trevor's here.
Alucard turns over his shoulder. That's Sypha. She's here and oh fuck they know. They've seen the evidence, the corpses, everything. Shame wants to swallow him whole, but panic sets in first.]
When did you get here?!
[He's loud. Terrified. Hardly trusting his own senses.]
[ He averts his eyes. They've at least been trying to give Alucard as much dignity as they can while still treating him effectively, but given the nature of the injuries they're working with the best they can do has consisted of covering him with a sheet and moving it away only as much as is necessary at any given time. And now he's out of the bed, so no sheet.
He reaches out to steady the medicine before anything else, making sure none spills in the commotion. He can make more, but the stuff is less effective if it's not applied in the few hours after the burns are received. Then he takes the abandoned sheet and holds it out for Alucard to take. Whatever conversation this is going to be, it doesn't need to happen with any dicks out.
Sypha stirs, but she's not slept through the night since they left Lindenfeld. At least in her head, Alucard's presence is calming enough to let exhaustion take her. She doesn't wake. ]
A few hours ago. We- [ He shakes his head, gesturing to the medicine. ] -let me finish this while the burns are still fresh enough for this shit to work, and then we can figure out if I actually need to know what the fuck happened.
[He hadn't even noticed the sheet. Or much of anything, because even now his heart thunders in his chest. How hadn't he noticed that the castle had people in it? That someone was touching him?
Alucard's barely listening as Trevor speaks. He just stands -- fuck, fuck that hurts -- wobbling. Knowing he shouldn't be doing this but not caring.]
It's fine. It's fine, I can do the matter myself--
[ God, he sounds terrified. Trevor continues to try not to notice. Try not to put things together, try to regard the burns and the bloodstained sheets and the corpses and the silver cables as a series of unrelated things, because if he puts them all together he'll start thinking and he can't afford to do that right now.
What comes out next isn't in a friendly tone. It's not an attempt at softness, because he doesn't trust himself with that right now. Instead? It comes out as if he's giving commands in a battle. Stern, unshakably confident and unwilling to accept argument. ]
Back into the bed. I'll turn around, and you do it yourself. Put the gauze in the liquid and then over the burns. Cover yourself when you're done, so I can turn back.
[That tone gets a hiss. A real hiss, the kind he tried to let out before only to be restrained. He's not fettered. He can move here, and he does just that. The door. He starts to move there, ignoring the screeching pain.]
I will go no such place.
[Nothing registers. He just needs to be Not Here. Not around people. Anywhere, anywhere else.]
[ Shit. So maybe he went with the wrong tone. Too late now. ]
Alucard. I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wouldn't help. [ And maybe he needs to be alone, like he probably needed to be alone before. But that can wait. They can leave him to whatever the fuck happened if that's what he wants. But after the burns are dealt with. ]
You don't need to be in the bed. Just do the medicine.
[ He hands over the medicine and the thin cloth he's been tearing to strips. ]
Just follow what I've been doing. Cloth in the medicine, then over the burns.
[ A lot of the work is already done, and it's easy enough to tell how much of it works by looking at it. Even if the Belmonts almost certainly never understood why the medicine works. There's something in there that dissolves the holy oil that the cables were coated with to keep it from eating into the skin further, that's the time-sensitive part. After that, the cloth dries solid but flexible and keeps outside things from irritating or infecting the damaged skin. The Belmonts may have had no idea about germ theory, but they've had a long history of dealing with injuries and a lot of opportunity for trial and error. ]
I'll come find you at dawn. You have until then to do this yourself.
[Alucard goes. He takes the things and goes but he doesn't say where and he doesn't stop moving until he's in a completely different wing of the castle. High up, because at least that keeps him moving until there's no where else to move to.
He tries to do as Trevor instructed, part of him registering that yes, this helps with the pain. That he's in physical pain as much as psychological pain, and at least one of these things can be fixed. But his hands shake. Moments of horror replay in his head when he looks at the burns. His hands shake and then--
--he can't. He can't and so he just sits there, more sobs escaping his throat. The sound carries without his realizing it, and then dawn comes.
Alucard doesn't even register when Trevor finds him. He's managed 2 whole additional bandages and that's it.]
He knows that, and it's becoming still more clear as he looks through every. Fucking. Room. In the fucking castle. He's bolted. He's bolted and he knew that he would because that's what things DO when they're spooked. But what was he supposed to do? Hold him still and force the bandages on to him? Get between him and the door and order him back into the bed?
Maybe he has put everything together a little, despite his best attempts. ]
...lost track of time, huh?
[ He follows the sound of sobs, in the end. Up stairs. And stairs. And stairs. With his human legs and his human lungs. Ugh. He's panting a little when he enters the room, a thick blanket tucked under one arm. He sighs, putting the blanket down. ]
The longer it takes, the longer the oil'll have to do damage. If you can't do it, let me. You'll hate it less in the long run. Promise.
[He should have heard those footsteps. Why didn't he hear those footsteps? Trevor's breathing? Any of it?
Why isn't he even startled when Trevor walks in?
Alucard doesn't know. All he understands is that there's something awful inside him that isn't letting him react normally. Because all he manages right now is to tug what he already had on himself as far as sheets went a little closer. Like it's armor. Like it's going to protect him from anything.
One of the pomanders. You filed the recipies under non-human medicine and tools for allied vampires. The kind for new fledglings.
[ Which is to say that it's close to as strong as it can get without risking being permanent, made to numb the pain of the transformation and to suppress all emotions rather than simply preventing aggression. The strain and agony of transformation and the initial hunger make new fledglings dangerous to deal with non-violently but also wreaks hell on them mentally. It's best, at least according to Belmont wisdom, to suppress all of that initially and lower the dose later. The easiest way to allow those turned against their will to continue to live.
[ Well shit. On the one hand, it's a good thing he used such a strong dose. On the other? Alucard was never scared of him when he was actually trying to kill him. This is- disturbing. ]
I'm not going to hurt you.
[ He reaches out, holding the pomander's iron chain in both hands. This part is, he knows, probably going to be the worst. There's no way that hands reaching for his neck is a good thing right now. But if he can just get the pomander around Alucard's neck, he can tend to the rest of those burns. He can try to have a normal conversation.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
s3 but before landscaping happens
Alucard knows that much. He knows that because below him is not hard wood and a burnt rug. He knows that because the room does not contain a single piece of metal in a perfect circle, left on the floor where Dracula fell. He knows because there is something soft below him and too many hands and--
--and he bolts upright with a horrible speed. Looks around wide eyed, certain of what happened last night. That he nearly died, killed in his own defense, and in a horrible fit of rage and regret and shame and so many other things that sent him so far down that he may has well been drowning, he dragged himself to the place of even worse shame and regret.
There's a faint stickiness on his person. That's dried blood. His eyes hurt, that's from the tears. But he isn't where he was, his entire mind aches, and nothing makes sense...]
no subject
There's only so much that ice will do for silver burns, but Sypha's done her best anyway. A thin layer of frost to bring the swelling down and numb the pain, for all that matters while he's asleep. She's asleep in her chair now, slumped forward on the bed, hand outstretched so that her fingers graze Alucard's.
Trevor's taken over treatment now that the medicine is as done as it's going to get. It's half old Belmont stuff and, in truth, half him just making shit up to replace ingredients they don't have to hand. Where the fuck is he going to find grave dirt or corpsefly larvae an hour before dawn? The medicine takes the form of a bowl of thin, chalky, pale grey liquid. He dips strips of gauze into it and smooths them over the burns. He's leaning over Alucard, working his way over the burns on his stomach when he bolts upright and practically headbutts him across the room, forehead colliding with his lower jaw.
He reaches out and manages to steady the bowl, avoiding so much as a drop spilled even as he himself gets knocked right out of his own chair and only narrowly avoids falling to the floor.
It's a guest room, as far as he can tell. The first one they found that wasn't occupied by corpses and didn't seem like it had been in use recently. It's dusty, but the bed is soft and there aren't any naked corpses in it so as far as rooms go it's pretty good. ]
Shit, watch where you're waking up. [ He says, setting the bowl down out of headbutt-range before bringing a hand up to his face, feeling at his jaw to check for damage. ] Almost good-morninged my teeth out there.
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His legs wobble but fine. They were wobbling before, and there's a voice, it's one he--
--Trevor. Trevor's here.
Alucard turns over his shoulder. That's Sypha. She's here and oh fuck they know. They've seen the evidence, the corpses, everything. Shame wants to swallow him whole, but panic sets in first.]
When did you get here?!
[He's loud. Terrified. Hardly trusting his own senses.]
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[ He averts his eyes. They've at least been trying to give Alucard as much dignity as they can while still treating him effectively, but given the nature of the injuries they're working with the best they can do has consisted of covering him with a sheet and moving it away only as much as is necessary at any given time. And now he's out of the bed, so no sheet.
He reaches out to steady the medicine before anything else, making sure none spills in the commotion. He can make more, but the stuff is less effective if it's not applied in the few hours after the burns are received. Then he takes the abandoned sheet and holds it out for Alucard to take. Whatever conversation this is going to be, it doesn't need to happen with any dicks out.
Sypha stirs, but she's not slept through the night since they left Lindenfeld. At least in her head, Alucard's presence is calming enough to let exhaustion take her. She doesn't wake. ]
A few hours ago. We- [ He shakes his head, gesturing to the medicine. ] -let me finish this while the burns are still fresh enough for this shit to work, and then we can figure out if I actually need to know what the fuck happened.
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Alucard's barely listening as Trevor speaks. He just stands -- fuck, fuck that hurts -- wobbling. Knowing he shouldn't be doing this but not caring.]
It's fine. It's fine, I can do the matter myself--
[He's speaking as if he's out of breath.]
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What comes out next isn't in a friendly tone. It's not an attempt at softness, because he doesn't trust himself with that right now. Instead? It comes out as if he's giving commands in a battle. Stern, unshakably confident and unwilling to accept argument. ]
Back into the bed. I'll turn around, and you do it yourself. Put the gauze in the liquid and then over the burns. Cover yourself when you're done, so I can turn back.
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I will go no such place.
[Nothing registers. He just needs to be Not Here. Not around people. Anywhere, anywhere else.]
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Alucard. I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wouldn't help. [ And maybe he needs to be alone, like he probably needed to be alone before. But that can wait. They can leave him to whatever the fuck happened if that's what he wants. But after the burns are dealt with. ]
You don't need to be in the bed. Just do the medicine.
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He's at the door. Putting too much weight on that tiny doorknob and it's starting to bend by pure accident.]
Pass it then and I'll manage elsewhere.
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Just follow what I've been doing. Cloth in the medicine, then over the burns.
[ A lot of the work is already done, and it's easy enough to tell how much of it works by looking at it. Even if the Belmonts almost certainly never understood why the medicine works. There's something in there that dissolves the holy oil that the cables were coated with to keep it from eating into the skin further, that's the time-sensitive part. After that, the cloth dries solid but flexible and keeps outside things from irritating or infecting the damaged skin. The Belmonts may have had no idea about germ theory, but they've had a long history of dealing with injuries and a lot of opportunity for trial and error. ]
I'll come find you at dawn. You have until then to do this yourself.
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He tries to do as Trevor instructed, part of him registering that yes, this helps with the pain. That he's in physical pain as much as psychological pain, and at least one of these things can be fixed. But his hands shake. Moments of horror replay in his head when he looks at the burns. His hands shake and then--
--he can't. He can't and so he just sits there, more sobs escaping his throat. The sound carries without his realizing it, and then dawn comes.
Alucard doesn't even register when Trevor finds him. He's managed 2 whole additional bandages and that's it.]
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He knows that, and it's becoming still more clear as he looks through every. Fucking. Room. In the fucking castle. He's bolted. He's bolted and he knew that he would because that's what things DO when they're spooked. But what was he supposed to do? Hold him still and force the bandages on to him? Get between him and the door and order him back into the bed?
Maybe he has put everything together a little, despite his best attempts. ]
...lost track of time, huh?
[ He follows the sound of sobs, in the end. Up stairs. And stairs. And stairs. With his human legs and his human lungs. Ugh. He's panting a little when he enters the room, a thick blanket tucked under one arm. He sighs, putting the blanket down. ]
The longer it takes, the longer the oil'll have to do damage. If you can't do it, let me. You'll hate it less in the long run. Promise.
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Why isn't he even startled when Trevor walks in?
Alucard doesn't know. All he understands is that there's something awful inside him that isn't letting him react normally. Because all he manages right now is to tug what he already had on himself as far as sheets went a little closer. Like it's armor. Like it's going to protect him from anything.
Two hoarse words squeak out.]
I can't.
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[ He's not entirely certain that there's an answer to that, but he has to try. ]
Can you apply the medicine?
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[There's no more words. There's nothing. There's no Alucard right now.]
I can't.
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[ He drags the blanket over, pushing it into Alucard's arms. ]
Would it be easier to just- not feel. For a while?
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[ He picks up the blanket, arranging it around Alucard as best he can without it actually touching him. ]
Stay here. Or make yourself easy to find, if you go somewhere else.
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[He can stay. He can do not moving.
He can even tug the blanket around himself a little more, the weight of it comforting if nothing else.]
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He brings his hands close to Alucard, still clasped around something. ]
I need you to breathe in, when I open my hands.
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Relaxes?
He tenses at that.
Then relaxes.
The feelings flip flop the closer and closer Trevor gets, until he's in the room. Alucard can feel every part of him tighten.]
What is it?
[There's still terror there, but muted now.
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[ Which is to say that it's close to as strong as it can get without risking being permanent, made to numb the pain of the transformation and to suppress all emotions rather than simply preventing aggression. The strain and agony of transformation and the initial hunger make new fledglings dangerous to deal with non-violently but also wreaks hell on them mentally. It's best, at least according to Belmont wisdom, to suppress all of that initially and lower the dose later. The easiest way to allow those turned against their will to continue to live.
He opens his hands. ]
Breathe in.
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--it's a weapon in the right hands, and he knows, he knows he can't trust anyone. Especially not an entire family of vampire hunters.]
I can't. You'll just hurt me it'll be the same thing--
[He backs away. Or tries to. The effects of the smoke prevent that much, because that? That involves aggression.
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I'm not going to hurt you.
[ He reaches out, holding the pomander's iron chain in both hands. This part is, he knows, probably going to be the worst. There's no way that hands reaching for his neck is a good thing right now. But if he can just get the pomander around Alucard's neck, he can tend to the rest of those burns. He can try to have a normal conversation.
He'll apologise later. ]
I'm sorry. It'll be easier soon.
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Don't.
[A single word, drenched in terror. Wanting to get away. Needing to.]
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