Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was nearly the end of spring when he first heard the sound of wheels against stone, the sound so unusual that he had to pause in the middle of shelving, knees in the dust, and force his brain to match the sound to the cause.

“Bandits.” He thought after a long moment, though so far no bandit had dared come within miles of the ruins. The dog at his feet barked cheerfully, stumpy tail wagging as it tried to reach its boney forelimbs high enough to see out a window. “Shall we go say hello?” He asked it, carefully placing the book in its proper place. The dog barked again, which was answer enough for him. Stiffly, he pushed to his feet, brushed his pants, and headed for the door.

“The highest room, in the tallest tower.” He intoned to himself as he descended the small spiral staircase. “Are you the fair maiden, or I?” The dog said nothing to this, already several steps ahead of him and looking like it might start rolling if it didn’t watch its step. With a sense of growing familiarity, he reached down and scooped the thing up to tuck it under one arm. It yipped once, unbothered and looking far too pleased with the new change in height.

“You’ve grown spoiled.” He told it but didn’t put it down. Better to keep it from getting underfoot during the fighting. He could always toss it in one of the side rooms should he need to. The sound of the wheels was gone now, replaced with the whickering of tired horses and the soft murmur of at least a dozen people all talking at once. For strangers camped literally on the doorstep of a haunted castle, they sounded surprisingly… ordinary.

Not bandits then, he thought as one of them called for the tents to be unpacked. Travelers looking for shelter, though a glance out the window showed a sunny afternoon and not at all the weather to force anyone’s hand.

And then he heard it. Deep, rough with years of abuse and apathy, a voice that sometimes called to him from the darkest, warmest corners of his dreams followed by a high laugh, sweet water over rocks in a mountain stream. In the dark hallway, he froze, one foot raised in a half-completed step as he thought hard about simply turning around and heading back up the stairs. The dog barked curiously, wiggling as though it wished to be put down but he couldn’t seem to make his fingers loosen.

Strange, he mused, almost cuddling the zombie to his chest, but he couldn’t finish the thought. Brushing away what felt like cobwebs in his mind, he stepped out of the last door and onto the dais above the throne room. There was no shout of alarm, however, not even a surprised gasp. No one, he realized after a long moment, had even noticed him. So much for a commanding presence.

There were Speakers at his door, already pulling their belongings through the ruined front door he had never bothered to repair, stacking them neatly against the wall in a way the implied intent rather than a short rest. A few of the younger ones were leading horses past the door in a direction he vaguely recalled having a few stables. And worst of all, not a one of them wasn’t smiling.

“—ple call me filthy.” Muttered the deep voice, followed by a metallic thump that may have been a leather boot connecting with a pile of corpse-filled armor. “Look at this mess, you’d think the bastard would have at least cleaned his front doorway.”

“I’m sure he’s been very busy!” protested the stream, only sounding mildly doubtful. “Certainly, books are worth more time than a few dusty… er, not quite dusty corpses, please don’t do that, I do not like how it squelches.” There was another metallic thump, sounding meatier than the first. “Oh, ew.” 

Alucard took a deep breath and moved closer to the railing until he could see directly below to the foot of the stairs where the owners stood above a decomposing solider, which had mostly been contained by its armor and was now leaking over the floor. Sypha was holding a hand over the lower half of her face, looking green. Her eyes flicked away from the mess and caught his, causing them both to inhale sharply.

“Alucard!” She cried happily, sending Trevor’s head whipping up as well and killing any chance he had of quietly slipping away back to his shadows. He smiled faintly, waiting as the woman raced up the stairs, coat tails waving behind her like a horse’s tail until she was just at his side, one hand on his shoulder and another at his elbow. Nearly vibrating with emotion, he could feel the hug in her eyes though she thankfully did not move to embrace him.

“Sypha.” He answered as warmly as he could, placing his free hand on her own shoulder. “It is good to see you looking so well.” And she did, her ruined robe replaced with one a deep and lovely shade of green with the smallest glint of chainmail from beneath when she shifted in a path of a sunbeam.

“Bastard,” was Trevor’s greeting as he crested the stairs, smirking, cleaner than Alucard had ever seen him, though his hair still left much to be desired. “Thought you’d upped an died on us.” he drawled, thumping Alucard on the shoulder. It was worth the annoyance to hear the man jump with a strangled yelp when the dog barked at him from under Alucard’s arm, nearly sending the noble hunter down the stairs backwards. “Dear god, what is that? Got bored and decided to whip up a friend?”

“Oh, how cute!” Sypha cooed before Alucard could answer, “Look at his little face!” she scratched the happy zombie under its stubby chin, making sounds of delight as it wagged its tail furiously.

“You’re joking,” Trevor groaned, hands coming up when the tiny dog began to growl at him. “I’ve seen half-dead nightwalkers better looking.”

Alucard watched them bicker, Sypha’s impassioned defense and Trevor’s protests washing over him like a warm bath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so… content. He let himself bask in it, tension he had barely noticed seeping out of his shoulders.

“-ard? Alucard!” He jolted, startled as a small hand shook gently shook his shoulder. Blinking, he stared at them before realizing they were both watching him with twin looks of concern. “Are you alright?” Sypha asked quietly, laughter gone. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Forgive me,” Alucard said, shaking the last of the warmth away with a short toss of his head. “I was simply lost in thought. As to your question,” he said to Trevor, forcing the conversation away. “It was here when we arrived. I found it wandering the halls, crying, a few days after you left and it has not stopped following me since.”

“Poor thing,” Sypha said, allowing the topic to drop. “I suppose real dogs don’t care much for vampires. Do you know who owned him?” She gave it a sympathetic pat on the head.

Trevor was not so accommodating. Arms crossed, he leaned back against the rail with an unattractive stubborn slant to his mouth. Something about his eyes made Alucard glance away, feeling unaccountably exposed.

“Are you staying long?” The dhampir asked quickly before Trevor could speak, giving the other man his back. “I fear I am under-supplied for extended guests.”

Sypha had the same glint in her eyes though she tempered it with a smile. “Do not worry, we have our own supplies and there are towns enough to restock when we need to.” She started to say something more before closing her mouth with a small snap, looking suddenly nervous. “Oh, unless? Oh dear, here we are on your doorstep and we didn’t even ask—"

Trevor sighed, bringing down one heavy hand on Alucard’s shoulder and smiling in a way that made him want to punch him in his drunkard face. “The bastard doesn’t mind company,” he drawled, his smile making it clear that if it did, Alucard would be keeping it to himself. “I’m sure he’s ready for conversations that don’t include sniffing arseholes.” He paused, face uncomfortably close and the corners of his lips curled wickedly. “Unless that’s something you’re in to, I wouldn’t want to judge.” Alucard shrugged him off, putting the dog down before he accidentally snapped it in half.

“You are welcome here, of course.” He reassured Sypha, taking her hand in his. “My home is always open to you.” He stressed the last word, staring Trevor in the eyes as he said it but the mad arsehole only smirked, looking as though he had won something.

Sypha’s eyes shone, looking nearly as bright as the dog at her feet. He could nearly feel her desire to hug him again and was absolutely not disappointed when she took a step back. “Thank you,” she chirped, “It has not been the same traveling without you and it is so good to see you again. And we have a surprise!” She paused, looking at Trevor who only rolled his eyes heavenward. When he made no move to jump in, she turned back to Alucard with a bright smile. “We’ve brought help!” She told him nonsensically, waving a hand at the front door which did nothing to clarify.

“Why it’s the best gift of all,” Trevor said with lazy sarcasm, “a whole band of bright-eyed, campy Speakers, just what every glorified librarian needs.” The man even waved his hands in an over-exaggerated ‘ta-da’ motion, looking pleased when the dhampir stared without comprehension.

“I— forgive me, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Alucard stumbled, eyes moving from Trevor to Sypha, who was back to looking nervous.

“Oh, ah, well we meet up with my family a few months ago.” She started to explain, waving her hand around like little birds as she spoke. “It was so good to see my grandfather, they were helping a village near Buzāu and…” she started into a lengthy explanation of the village and what her people had been up to. Interesting, but hardly helpful, which seemed to amuse Trevor given his quiet snickering.

“Turns out your father’s little tantrum’s been changing more than the Church.” The man finally broke in, cutting through Sypha’s chatter. She went silent, lips pursed and one hand on her hips before sighing.

“Many of my generation have begun to… question our traditions.” She explained reluctantly. “When I told them of the Belmont library, well, there was some interest.”

Trevor laughed, the sound like a steeple bell. “She’s got half the Speaker clans out for her head.”

“Not literally!” Sypha protested half-heartedly, “Only they are a little annoyed with me. But,” she hurried to add, “many of my cousins have asked to come and assist you with your work. They wish to learn and are willing to trade labour for the chance to browse your books.”

“You brought me… aid?” Alucard asked dumbly. “For the library.” He tried to imagine it, tripping over humans in the halls and listening to them talk for hours on end… no more silence. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“They’re not looking to be paid, of course.” Sypha assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “Just tell them what to do and they’ll keep themselves busy. Think of them like… um.” She trailed off, words failing her.

“Like a pack toddlers all cooing over dusty books and wandering into traps.” Trevor finished, because he was incapable of being nice, grinning as Sypha repeated his words only to realize what he had said half way through and turn to smack him on the arm.

“No! Like, like, ugh. Like assistants. Fully grown, capable assistants.”

From below there was a loud metal clang and a short, surprised shriek of terror. The three of them looked down at the camp, where a group of Speakers are gathered around the tiny, fresh body of a rat. One of them, likely a young man, was shaking his head wildly as the group asked him questions. By their feet was a bloodied helmet, no doubt the murder weapon of choice.

“Yes,” Trevor said, straight-faced, into the silence between them. “very capable.”

Sypha sighed.

“Mostly capable. They won’t bring the castle down around your ears, I promise. Not more than the two of you would do on your own, in any case” She was smiling hopefully, fingers still caught in his and starting to tangle between them. As he stared at her, she gave them a small squeeze. “Let them help you, at least with the little things. It’s a big castle, you shouldn’t have to do it all on your own.”

Alucard carefully controlled the involuntary flinch, his soft smile not dropping an inch. “That is very kind of you Sypha,” he started, not quite able to force himself to let go of her hand. “I’ve become quite accustom to the silence, however, I’m not sure I could bear to have it invaded. And I do not mind the work, it is satisfying in its own way.”

Sypha and Trevor shared an unreadable look. It was not the first he had seen them do so but it was the first time he was unable to parse the unspoken message that passed between them.

It reminded him of his parents.

He curled his free hand into a tight fist before deliberately loosening it. “Please, friends,” he told them just to see the look of pleasure on both their faces at the endearment. “Truly, I have no need of help. I am, however, happy to host you and your family until you move on. Perhaps you can tell me of your new adventures over dinner? I believe there are some pigs still foraging around the castle gardens that would be sufficient.”

“One month,” Sypha wheedled, holding up one finger. “Let us help you for one month and then decide if they can stay.”

“Surely you have better things to do then stay here for a month.” He protested, even as Sypha looped an arm through his and started tugging him down the stairs. “Villages to protect, churches to defile.”

“They’ll keep,” was Trevor’s contribution, looking unconcerned at the possibility of monsters going unchecked. “I’m much more interested in the contents of your wine cellar. I’m guessing dear old dad liked the good stuff?”

“As if you’d be able to tell.” Alucard snapped before he could think about it. Trevor grinned at him, waving one hand in an obscene gesture. The dhampir snorted, returning it with far more grace. “I suppose I should simply be thankful you’re not drunk already.”

“Who says I’m not?” Trevor returned, despite the fact that, while he did smell of horses and the faint smell of manure, the only smell of alcohol was days old.

“One month?” Sypha asked again, drawing Alucard’s attention back to her. Her eyes shone up at him like twin skies. It may have been the afternoon sunlight or simply her hair, cut even shorter and curled around her cheekbones, but they seemed almost too large for her face. He swallowed, and forced himself to look ahead.

“I do not believe it will make a difference but far be it from me to refuse a lady.” He said finally, his voice sounding sulky even to his own ears. He sighed and tried again, this time more graciously. “As I said, you and your family are welcome here, no matter what they spend their time doing. If they wish to assist, I will not stop them.”

Sypha smiled, squeezing his arm happily. “Thank you, Alucard! You will find them useful, I promise.” And she had obviously been spending too much time with the oaf for her smile was decidedly smug. He didn’t have time to think much of it, however, for she was already pulling him across the hall and introducing him to his new guests.

There were seventeen of them in total, all nearly Sypha’s age as far as he was able to tell. He was not the best at guessing human ages but if the eldest was more than twenty-five he’d have been very surprised. Whether due to their age or simply his status as a half-vampire, they were too much in awe of him to do more than stutter out a few nervous greetings. Huddled together in their blue robes, they stood like birds against a storm, twittering every time he so much as looked in their direction.

They were eager, however, Sypha had not exaggerated that. When he explained that he had moved most of the book to the undamaged upper levels and was working on cataloguing and shelving them, one girl looked excited enough to faint. It seemed that Sypha’s love of books was not unique. As soon as he mentioned his referencing system, most of the tension had melted away as they begun to move closed, questions flying from every direction.

After months of nothing but his own voice, it was… overwhelming.

Before he could turn and flee, however, Trevor was there, pushing between him and the crowd like a shield. “Alright, alright.” The man snapped, looking annoyed. “If I hear one more question about paper quality, I’m going to start staking you lot out as nightwalker bait. Go do something useful, like dinner.” As if to prove his point, it was at that moment Sypha’s stomach rumbled loudly. She chuckled.

“That is as good a sign as any.” She started to give orders, happily dispersing the crowd to various tasks and laughing when Alucard offered use of his kitchen. “None of us have used a stove before,” she explained, shrugging. “And things taste better on an open fire.”

“Just don’t burn the place down, yeah?” Trevor said, giving her a friendly shove towards the door. “And tell them to move quickly, I’m hungry enough that even the mutt is starting to look appetizing.” The dog whined, its exposed bones and decaying flesh trembling as it hid behind Alucard’s boot. Sypha and Alucard looked at it and then at each other.

“I do not even want to know if you are joking.” She told Trevor, looking green again. “I will tell them to hurry.” She left the pair alone in the empty hall, moving quickly to avoid anything else Trevor might feel the need to add. Alucard sighed.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said eventually, not looking at the hunter. Trevor snorted.

“Yeah, I think I did. You looked like you were about to widdle yourself.” He grunted as Alucard’s elbow connected with his unprotected gut, coughing wetly and spitting on the ground as he messaged the wounded area. “Fucking bastard.”

“I can handle a few excitable humans.” Alucard snapped, “I don’t need you playing nursemaid.” He braced himself for retaliation, feet apart and guard up but the attack never came. Instead, Trevor took a deep breath and straightened himself out with nothing more than a pained grimace.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.” He drawled, eyes sharp. “Or not, as the case may be.”

Alucard took a step back before he could catch himself. “That is none of your business.” And before the man could say another word, he turned on his heels and marched out of the room, telling himself firmly that it wasn’t running away, it was a dramatic exit.

Chapter Text

If half a year alone with no one but a reanimated pet and the memories of his deceased parents for company had been agonizing, a month with a handful of strangers was pure torture on a level Alucard had previously not been aware existed. How, in a castle build to hold a thousand edgy, territorial vampires, he was constantly tripping over less humans than he had fingers and toes he would never know. They were everywhere, in every room, sitting at tables, browsing books and dusting shelves. They had even swept away the bodies, leaving the front hall clean if still open to the elements. Cheerful and polite, they still managed to grate on his every nerve.

This was to say nothing of his friends, who seemed to delight in cornering him at every opportunity with a hand at his elbow or a thump on the back. ‘Try this wine, Alucard, even you can’t say its shit’. ‘Read this book, Alucard, it has such an interesting spell’. ‘Do you need a blanket, Alucard?’ ‘Let me mend your shirt, Alucard’. ‘Come spar with me, Alucard’. And of course, the ever popular ‘how did you sleep last night’ that haunted his every morning. It was enough to drive a sane man mad and a half-sane dhampir up the walls.

Sypha was the worst offender, always within arms reach with her bright smiles and ready laughter with something interesting to show him. Her naked delight in every book she came across was so infectious he didn’t have the heart to tell her he had already read most of them before he had come of age. It was nice to hear her opinions, in any case, a fresh look at old information.

By hook or by crook, Trevor had been roped into the nannying as well. He was subtler, meaner and far more blunt, but he could still be found pulling Alucard into a sparring match or a fighting demonstration for a few eager Speakers. Alucard would have refused on principal but somehow the man always managed to time it just when the memories started to engulf him. The Belmont would have him half way across this castle with hot hands at his back before Alucard could even muster the power to refuse and by then it was too late. Their attention was like being bathed in chocolate after years of fasting… uncomfortable even as he knew he should enjoy it.

What Sypha’s relations thought of it, he was unable to judge. They were a quiet bunch, far less chattery than he had feared. He was half worried someone had said something to them, for they had yet to approach him in groups larger than three since the first day. It made his stomach burn, humiliation warring with gratefulness until he was snapping at everyone, even Dog. The third time he had sent the thing whimpering from the room, he placed a hand over his eyes and sighed, feeling ancient.

It was rather unfortunate then, that this was the moment Trevor fucking Belmont decided to waltz into the room. He had left off his coat with the family crest, down to just his shirt and a pair of grey leather pants. The man wasn’t even armed, which Alucard found both pleasing and absolutely infuriating. Temper suddenly boiling, he grabbed the hunter by the shirt collar and slammed him into the wall, ignoring the surprise yelp that ended in a pained grunt as Trevor grabbed his wrist with both hands, eyes wide as Alucard came nose to nose with him.

“What the fuc—” the man started to say before Alucard cut him off with a hiss, baring his fangs. Trevor swallowed sharply, eyes dropping to his mouth, pupils huge. He made no move to break Alucard’s grip, however, denying the dhampir even that simple pleasure. With no outlet, the rage rose higher until Alucard was nearly shaking with it. Instead of letting the hunter go, he lifted him into the air and flung him bodily at one of the chairs. Trevor cursed loudly but his flight was too short to properly flip himself so he landed upside down, ass hitting the back of the chair and knocking it backward until he was sitting backward, legs sprawled out on the floor and chair legs pointed at Alucard.

The dhampir did not move, feeling as though he was poised on the edge of a cliff. He breathed hard, head bowed, fingers curled as Trevor stumbled to his feet and kicked the chair out of the way. Cracking his fingers, the man took a brawling position, fists raised. “Is that the best you got?” Trevor drawled, lips curled with amusement, “I mean, no offense but I’ve taken harder hits from my grandmother. Why don’t you try that again and this time without embarrassing yourself.” The words were sharp, familiar, and Alucard almost took a step back. Almost… if Trevor hadn’t chosen that moment to add, “Or not, fuck, are you drifting out again? Look, Sypha’s got some tea going or some—"

Trevor had only enough time to widen his eyes before Alucard was coming at him again, this time with a brutal kick that slammed him into the shelves behind him. It had taken Alucard weeks to sort those books and another three to carry them all up from the bowels of the Belmont mansion but he barely noticed, too focused on the way Trevor scrambled over them like a mouse before a cat. Too intent, it happened, to avoid the hunter when he suddenly spun and planted a solid fist in his face. Something cracked, possibly his nose, and Alucard flew backward through the door and into the hall. Rolling, he was back on his feet just in time for Trevor to snap a leather-clad boot towards his temple.

He jumped back, tasting his own blood on his lips. It felt good, vicious and alive. His heart was pounding and he wasn’t smiling now, was he— Alucard dodged another kick and swung a fist upward, enjoying the crack of his knuckles against Trevor’s cheek. Trevor, however, had apparently had enough and his next attack was not a swing but a lunge, catching the dhampir bodily around the middle and attempting to wrestle him to the ground. There was a noise, a loud pounding that he could barely hear over the anger and shoving Trevor off him, he realized it was the other man shouting.

“—m down, you crazy shithole bastard!” Trevor was snarling like a dog and bleeding from both his nose and somewhere under his hairline. He wiped at it and glared at the smudge across the back of his hand. “Fucking fantastic,” he muttered, “Look, I don’t know what crawled up your arse and di—” he ducked beneath another of Alucard’s kicks. Instead of hitting him in the gut, it caught his shoulder, sending him flying even farther down the hall, nearly to the stairs. “Oh, you goat-fucking son of a bitch. If that’s how you want it, fine.” He grabbed an abandoned shield and chucked it at Alucard’s head, slipping under it while the dhampir was distracted and kicking his legs out from under him.

A cheap trick and one Alucard would have never allowed to take him down, if Trevor hadn’t followed the attack by wrapping one hand in his hair and yanking it down as hard as he could. Not even years of training under his father could prevent the yelp of surprise that crossed Alucard’s lips as he slammed into the ground, scalp stinging.

The human tried to take advantage of his surprise and pin his arms down but Alucard threw him off, rolling to his feet and ripping his hair away. He stood panting against the wall while Trevor blinked at him from the floor, several golden strands still caught in his fist. Alucard leaned into the balls of his feet, ready to jump forward and bring his heel down on the other man's unprotected head.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!”

They both froze instinctively at the furious snarl from the stairs. Sypha was standing at the opening, flames metaphorically in her eyes and literally at her fingertips as she stared them down. Behind her, several Speakers cowered though they looked nearly as afraid of her as of the pair bleeding in the hallway. “I cannot even believe you two right now!” The mage continued, stalking forward and jabbing a finger in the air. “You. Are. Acting. Like. Children! Again! I cannot leave you alone for even a moment!” She lapsed for a moment into a few curses in a dead language Alucard was only passingly familiar with before rounding on Trevor, who was still kneeling on the floor and looking increasingly panicked.

“And you!” She snapped, “This is not what we agreed, you stupid idiot! We agreed no more fighting and here I find you, tearing into each other like, like wolves!” She looked mad enough to hit him, which he seemed to sense, scooting back out of her immediate reach.

“Me— no! Blame him,” he shoved himself upright, one hand hovering at his ribs, before jabbing a thumb at Alucard, hair strands waving at the motion. “Crazy bastard nearly tossed me through a window before I even finished walking in the room.” He grimaced, poking the bruise on his cheek. “Might need to check him for possession… by something that’s shit at fighting.”

Any guilt Alucard had been harboring over the bruises, vanished like smoke. “Speak for yourself, Belmont.” He snapped, “I am not the one who had to resort to hair-pulling.” He might have said more but stopped when Sypha gave him a look of pure disappointment.

“Adrian.” She said, sounding so much like his mother that his whole body flinched. “Alucard,” she amended. “If you felt the need to spar, surely the courtyard would have served better than a well-used hallway?” She was twisting a rag between her hands, clearly just having come from cleaning something deeper in the castle. Her knees were wet and her sleeves were pushed up past her elbows, with a look of such naked concern on her face that Alucard had to look away.

“Forgive me,” Alucard said stiffly, with a short bow to the both of them. “You are correct, I should have waited. I let my temper get the best of me, it won’t happen again.” He needed to leave, to escape to his rooms and lick the wounds he could feel up his side and down his soul. Preparing to turn, he risked one glance up and stopped short.

Neither of them looked happy, Sypha looked as if she might even be on the verge of tears. The rag was at her feet now, abandoned in favor of gripping Trevor’s arm hard enough for her knuckles to go white. Trevor’s eyes were hot and sharp, pinning him to the stone like a butterfly and his mouth was a lipless slash across his bloodied face.

“Alucard…” Trevor started, horribly serious, and the dhampir knew then that he should have taken the chance to flee. But it was too late now, Sypha already reaching out towards him.

“There is no shame in feeling angry,” the Speaker assured earnestly. “Though one would hope for less destructive outlets,” she said pointedly to Trevor, “it is better to express it then to keep it bottled inside.”

“I am. Not angry.” Alucard said, filled with self-loathing as he let her take his hand. “Only frustrated,” he scrambled to pull a reasonable excuse to his tongue, “with Belmont’s incomprehensible filing. How a family with such little interest in order was able to bring vampires to their knees escapes belief.”

“Really.” Trevor said with no inflection. “That’s what you’re going with? Pissed over paperwork? Shove the bullshit—”

“What Trevor is trying to say,” Sypha cut in hurriedly, “in his own… charming way, is that we’ve noticed you’ve been,” she paused, looking at Alucard’s hand in her own. “quiet.”  

“Call it what it is, Speaker.” Trevor said, smiling without humor. “You’ve been in a full-blown strop for weeks. No one’s bothered to gather firewood for days, what with how well you’ve been feeding the fires with broken furniture, you broody fucker.”

“I am n—” Alucard started to protest but Sypha cut him off with a squeeze.

“It’s okay, Alucard, really! Come, I have some tea from my grandfather that is wonderful for headaches and with a little honey, it doesn’t even taste like grass!” Using his hand like a lead, she started to pull him towards the stairs, Trevor following like tide at their heels. The dhampir hesitated for a moment before giving in, letting her babbling wash over him. “It’s got all sorts of good plants in it, even rosehips, which I hated as a child but somehow tastes fine when my grandfather makes it. He really is skilled when it comes to tea, all the clans buy them when we come together in the summer. We were thinking of stopping and picking up some more from him when we pass thro—”

Alucard came to sudden halt, hand jerking from her grasp and nearly causing Trevor to walk into him from behind. His nails bit into his palms as they curled into fists, her words clanging in his mind like a bucket down an empty well.

“Alucard?” Sypha asked, turning in surprise while Trevor took a small step back to look at him. “What—?”

“No.” The pair blinked at him. “No more tea.” He bit out before they could speak, “No more blankets, no more touching and talking and—” his words failed him, but he could feel himself shaking, fine tremors that seemed to run from his boots to the tips of his fingers. Deep in his chest, his heart ached and he longed to drives his nails deep and drag it out, anything to tear away the pain that had not left him since the day he learned of his mother’s death. “I am not interested in playing canvas to your absolutions.”

Sypha made a pained noise, reaching out to him, but he pushed away her hands. “No,” she said, pained, “no one is playing anything! What are you talking about?” She pulled her hands back to her chest and gave Trevor a beseeching look over Alucard’s shoulder. “How could you think..?”

Trevor sighed heavily, sounding as he was rolling his eyes. “Broody. Bastard.” He repeated before giving in to Sypha’s pleading and putting a hand on Alucard’s shoulder to turn him until he was facing them both. “Look, no one’s painting any damn paintings. There’s this thing people do when they’re friends, it’s called being nice. Maybe you should try it, you paranoid fuck.”

“Oh,” Alucard said with a laugh that made both human wince, “is that what you call it?” The ache was growing now, spreading up into his mouth and sharpening his tongue until he could not control the poison dripping from his lips. “You will have to forgive me, I have not had many human friends, I had no idea that leaving for months was considered a great sign of friendship. Shall I expect you to be away until the end of next summer now as a mark of great regard? Or will it be a half a decade, just to cement the relationship?”

Just the idea of it, the tomb-like silence pressing into his ears was enough to make him scream and he hated, hated that they had taken that away from him. Taken his ability to survive the stillness and made him dependent on their laughter and smiles. He slapped away Trevor’s hand when it tried to grab at him. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” He hissed, baring fangs at the man though, not quite willing to turn them on Sypha.

“Alucard,” She whispered, stricken, “Alucard.” Repeating his name like a prayer. “You know why we left, you agreed! You agreed we needed to help the people! But we were always coming back, it wasn’t forever! We were coming back.” He knows she’s right and even as she speaks there is a part of him screaming to back down and let it go, to put on a smile but he can’t help but see his father’s face, out of his mind, begging for his wife, and Alucard's whole being shudders.

“Even now you plan on leaving,” He said sharply, refusing to look at them. “You touch and pull and take and take and take, with no thought to the cruelty you offer with every word! Am I fated to smile each time you walk away and open my heart when you return, scrapping for your time and affection?” He turned on them with a hiss, “I am not a child! I can handle the silence and the whispers, I can handle the emptiness every time I open my eyes but I refuse to watch you walk away again!”

He’s dimly aware he’s shouting now, loud enough to send birds flying away from the window but its not until he hears a sudden crack that he stops to look around him.

The hallway is dead silent, the Speakers gone and his humans clutching at each other with huge eyes and open mouths. Sypha is openly crying, silent, and Trevor looks like a hunted dog. His fist throbs and when he looks at it, it’s at the centre of a large circular dent in the stone wall, the cracks spiderwebbing out from where he’s buried it.

No one speaks, not even when he pulls his fist away and cradles it to his chest. He stares at the floor, waiting for one of them to lash out but nothing happens and he only feels tired. He did not know it was possible to feel more hollow but somehow he has managed it.

“I beg your pardon,” He finally said, voice barely loud enough to carry across the short space. “I fear I am not myself at the moment.” He turned and walked away, each step he goes without being called back like a nail in his coffin.

And it was absolutely, without a doubt, running away.