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The Worst Best Worst-case Scenario of Saving Someone

Summary:

Lisa von Lubu is being burned at the stake for being a witch.
Trevor Belmont, for his sins, knows for a fact that the charges are bullshit.
Unfortunately, he is only one man, and the priest is not going to let this stand.
Fortunately, though he doesn't know it, he doesn't need to actually win, just delay the inevitable, while help comes.
Unfortunately, that help is...
Ah fuck.

Notes:

I wrote the first bit of this here:
https://worddevourer.tumblr.com/post/670767628141346816/warlock-attano-i-love-how-trevor-and-dracula
and then went, 'you know what? I bet I could do some more of this.'
So then I did. I'm marking it as a one-shot for now, because I think this is still a halfway decent stopping point. If I go further... Not so much.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There was a crack, like thunder, and the torch went clattering away on the cobbles.  The priest let out a pained yelp, and leapt back, clutching at his hand.

“Just... Have to stop you there,” came an annoyed voice.  The crowd parted around, or was elbowed out of the way by a scruffy man in an oversized coat, placing a whip back at his side.

Who do you think you are to strike a man of the cloth!?”

“Isn’t murder one of the big sins?  Think I’ve done you a favor.”

“This is not murder,” spat the priest.  “It is an execution.”

The man blinked for a few seconds.

“Of an innocent woman,” he said, flatly.

The innocent woman in question was glancing between the two of them.  She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then... shut it again.

Innocent-” The priest spat. “She is a witch!”

“Like hell she is,” said the man. “I-  Look, have you ever heard of the Belmonts?”

Silence.

“Right, yeah, should’ve seen that coming.  The point is, I hunt monsters for a living; this coat is... Nevermind.  The point is.  She isn’t a witch.  She’s just... what, a lady trying to help people.  Fuck, she’s the only reason I’m still standing.”

“Hah!  A fool then.  Or perhaps just bewitched.  The devil may quote scripture to his own ends, and the evil may do good to conceal their wickedness.”

Jesus Christ.  Listen.  What evidence do you even have?”

“Enough!” said the priest-

“Enough evidence, or enough talking,” said the man.

“Both!” The priest snapped his fingers, and two of the large men who’d been keeping the crowd at a distance pulled back.

The man looked at the priest, then at the two approaching him, with the expression of annoyance normally reserved for those who have just been told they’ll have to work through the night.  He put his hand down at his side, where he’d replaced the whip, and...  sighed, pulling his hand away.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

The men launched themselves at him.

They were big, but for a man who spoke with such a tired exasperation, he moved remarkably quickly.

A few good punches, and they went down.

“I’m fucking telling you,” he said, “you are making a god, damned, mistake.”

“A sack of coins and a free indulgence to the one who brings him down!”

And the crowd, urged on mostly by the people in the back who weren’t in immediate punching range, lurched forwards.

It was like fighting the undead.  The stupid, slow, uncoordinated undead.

The difference, of course, was the fact that because of some stupid thing about the...  Sanctity of human life...

The point was the normally, he’d be shattering skulls here, and without the ability to put them down properly, he just had to accept the fact that they’d keep coming, until-

The first solid punch landed, a proper bruise at his shoulder.

He kept punching.

He was outnumbered.

He managed to spot the priest grabbing the torch again, just in time to kick him away, but the problem was that in the time he’d managed to do that-

He was on the ground, being kicked from all sides.  There wasn’t any pain, but that was because there was too much to pick out where it was coming from.

He tried to crawl, to find some opening, but-

The weak light of the sun was suddenly blotted out, and the kicking stopped suddenly.

He heard screaming, and managed to roll over.

He could see the fire burning behind him; he tried to reach out towards it, as if he had any way of stopping it.

A dark shadow passed above his head, and the fire stopped in an instant, the heat gone too.

He couldn’t make out words, but he could hear two voices.

His eyes tried to focus, and he saw-

The figure turned, and he saw pale skin, dark hair, and... fangs.

He flailed his hand weakly towards his side, where the whip still sat.

“Oh f-

The world went grey.

--

He sat there, and just stared, silently.

The problem was…

He let out a slow breath.

The problem was everything.

The problem was that he’d been late.

Without… this man, she would be dead right now.

As if he had heard the thought, he stirred.

--

Trevor opened his eyes; definitely a mistake.

He let out a groan, and then winced as the motion provoked a stabbing pain in his ribs.

There was a single shining light next to him, which made his head feel like it was about to split open.

He looked away, his eyes catching on a pale blur, which resolved itself into…

“Oh fuck,” he managed.

“If I recall, that’s what you tried to say when you first saw me.”

“Yeah…” said Trevor, “still applies.”

He grimaced as he tried to reach to his side, but kept moving.  And he found…

“Fuck.”

“And again, I see.  If you’re looking for your whip, suffice to say you may have your life for now, but I have no intention of leaving that in your possession.”

“Uh huh,” said Trevor, eyeing him up.  Maybe a good punch could at least buy him enough time to…  “Nrngh.”  He felt back to the bed, his breathing rattling in his chest.

There was a long silence.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Uh…  Vampire…  Fuck.”  He squinted his eyes shut, lips moving silently, and then he stopped.  “Vlad Dracula Tepes,” he said, and for an instant, his eyes were sharp and collected as he looked back at his captor.

“Correct.  And you are currently in my castle.”

“Fuck.”  And it was gone again.

“Do you not know any other words?”

Trevor paused, seemed to consider, and shrugged, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Shit.  Piss.  Arse.  Uh…  Bollocks…”

Dracula’s expression didn’t shift.

“Remarkable.”

“Yeh,” said Trevor.

Dracula rubbed at his eyes.

“You aren’t going to make this simple, are you.”

“Probably not,” said Trevor, “not that you’ve told me anything.  You know who I am, right?  Near enough, at least.”

“You’re one of the Belmonts.”

Trevor sighed.  “Yeah.  Which does rather put us at odds.”

“Indeed.”

“Which, nnggh,” he managed to shift himself upright a little, “I suppose raises the question… Why have you not killed me yet?  Afraid my blood’s too strong for you?”

“You are alive because Lisa specifically requested it.”

Trevor blinked.  “The doctor.  The lady who…  I’m sorry, let me just make sure I’ve got this right.  You’re a vampire, yes?  Haven’t somehow missed the biggest thing about you?”

Silence.

“And you answer to her… Why?”

There was a long, long silence.

“Because she is my wife.”

“Piss off.”

“You will keep a civil tongue in your head, or you will have no tongue in your head.”

“Yeah, because she’ll really love that.”  It was a stupid line, that assumed he was actually telling the truth, but...

Dracula’s hand clenched, his nails catching in the cloth of his cloak.  He breathed, slowly.

“Ah!  Our guest is awake.  Dear, I thought you had agreed to let me know if woke before I did.”

Dracula’s eyes shifted slowly away from Trevor, and his expression softened, just a touch.

“I apologize.  I was making aware of his current situation.  Besides, you need rest as well.”

She laughed, gently.  “Of course, but I can take it tomorrow.”

Trevor’s eyes flicked between the two of them.

Well…  This was…

“Ehh…  You’re… Okay?”

She looked back at him.

“Indeed I am.  Somewhat singed, but it would heal naturally, let alone with the materials I have at my disposal here.”

“Right, yeah.”

“Were I in your position, I would be more worried about myself.”

Dracula chuckled.  “I doubt that.”

She shot him a mock-annoyed expression.

“You have five broken ribs, a fractured radius, and a broken toe.”

“Yeah, the toe’s old news.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged, laboriously, “Didn’t have time to get it looked at.”

Her expression went stern.  “You passed through my care, as I recall it.”

“And I didn’t have time to get it looked at,” he repeated, “You were busy.  Besides, what would you even do?”

“Tie it to the next toe, to stop it moving too much,” she said, and gestured.  “That is what I have done now.”

“Ah-  Right.”

“And…”  She sighed, “It’s not as if I am so busy, now.  I…  Do not know if I can return.”

“Nope!” said Trevor, at the same time as Dracula shot her an alarmed look.  “They’ve- ah, fuck,” he fell back to the bed, “tried to burn you at the stake already, and that was before…”  The memory clicked through his now significantly more aware brain.  “Christ, you got carried off by a vampire.”

“Yes but…  The sickness still rages.”

“Though I hate to agree with him,” said Dracula, the words measured, his eyes not meeting Trevor’s, “I believe that… The Belmont is correct.  You will do the world no good if you are dead.”

Trevor just stared, looking between the two of them.

“Huh.”

“I suppose so.”  Lisa shook her head.  “Nonetheless, this conversation is not why I am here.  Ah…  Remind me of your name.  Belmont?”

“Trevor,” he said, “Trevor… Belmont.”

She nodded, slowly.  “Yes, I believe I do recall that name from when you passed through my care.  The coat, particularly.”  She straightened, as if remembering something.

“I… Belmont…  Dear, is that…?”

Dracula nodded, slightly.

“Hm,” she looked back at him appraisingly.

She shook her head.

“Questions for another day, I think.  Now.  Trevor.  How do you feel?”

“Uhh…  Like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me by an angry mob?”

“Would you like something to dull the pain?”

He blinked.

“Alcohol?”

She laughed.  “No, nothing so crude.  I have…”  She reached into her coat, and pulled out a small glass vial.  “This.”

“Looks like poison,” said Trevor, flatly.

“In a larger dose, it would be,” she said, “but with little enough, you will simply feel no pain.”

“Right.  Poison me just a bit.”

She looked at him.

“You are joking, but ultimately, yes.  Any poison will leave you alive if you take little enough of it.  Some are useful, when they do not kill you.  Now.  Will you take it?”

“Uh…  Probably best not.”

“Very well,” she said, and replaced the vial.  “If you change your mind, let me know.  In the meantime, I expect full recovery will take a few months.  The good news is that you will be fit to walk much sooner.”

“Ah.  So…  How long until I leave?”

She looked almost affronted.

“As I said.  A few months.”

“Uh…  Right, but…”  He glanced back at Dracula.  She followed his gaze.  Dracula looked back at her impassively.

There was a long silence.

“I would not complain to see him leave sooner.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows, slightly.

“…But if you see the need to keep him here longer, then I will trust your judgement.”

“Right…” said Trevor, looking back and forth between them.

“In the meantime… Are you hungry?”

“Err…  Well…  Yes, but… There’s actually something a bit more urgent.”

“There is a restroom down the hallway.  Does that help?”

Trevor nodded.

“Then let’s find out if you can walk.  Give me your arm?”

“Long as I get it back.”

“Dear, would you take the other?”

Dracula, after a second, stood, with mechanical precision, and walked to the other side of the bed.

His grip wasn’t… firm, exactly.  It was… It was as if his hand was assuming a shape that was sufficiently large to hold Trevor’s arm, and not changing in the slightest.

Trevor was altogether aware of exactly how strong a full-fledged vampire could be, and it felt etched in the air that in the vast majority of circumstances, he’d be feeling a full demonstration of it right now.

He groaned as they helped him upright, and he maneuvered his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Now, I expect your legs will be weak; even though the bones are intact, you were badly bruised.

“Yep.  Feels like it.”

He pushed himself upright, and…

“Hhrrgh.”

He wobbled, but kept his feet, as they loosened their respective grips.

“Perhaps crutches, while you recover,” said Lisa, “or a cane.”

“Been hurt plenty of times before,” he groaned, “never needed a-  Hrnnggh.”  They caught him as he nearly fell.

“It is that or you will need to call upon one of us every time you wish to go anywhere.”

There was a moment of silence as he hobbled down the hallway between the two of them.

“Right.  Cane.”

“Good.”

He staggered through the door, where…  It was… Frankly, fancy by comparison to most of the places he was used to, though, in fairness, that wasn’t hard, considering it was indoors, and clean.

--

“You understand the issue, my love?”

“I do.  And I understand that without him, I would not be alive right now.”

“Yes, but… You cannot expect me to… Enjoy his presence.”

She sighed.  “No, dear.  But, I can ask you to tolerate him.”

“Indeed.  He has…”  There was a long, long pause, as he let out a slow, hissed breath.  “He Has Done Me A Great Service.” He forced out, as though the words pained him.  “I am glad you are well, my love.”

She laughed.  “As am I.  I hate to think what would become of you without me.  You still have so much to learn.”

He laughed, quietly, unable to quite restrain a smile.

“Indeed I do.”

It wasn’t even as if she was wrong; if something happened to her…

There was the sound of groaning from the other side of the door as Trevor forced himself back upright.

“Remember to wash your hands,” said Lisa.

“What?”

--

“So…  You’re…  Human.”

It was a good ten minutes later.  Dracula had left to do… Something, but Lisa had returned with food.

“I am,” she said, placing a… silver plate?  On his stomach, with meat on it.

“And…  You are… Here,” he said, tentatively picking a chunk up between two fingers.  “I-  One second, sorry, is this silver?”

She snorted, lightly.  “Aluminum.  And yes, I am here.”

“Right, yeah… I suppose that’s obvious.”

“You ask because you think I should be dead by now.”

“Uh…  I mean.  More or less, yeah.  I… Don’t know what you’ve heard about him, but, uh…  I could list off…”  He exhaled, “Eh… twenty of my relatives he’s killed?”

“And I could list almost as many times you’ve killed him.”

“I don’t think it counts as being killed if he keeps coming back.”

“I suppose.  Still.  That is not all I’ve heard, and it’s not all that is true.”

“Mm?”

“Do you know how many times what he has spent the last… century and a half doing?”

“Uh…  No.”

“He has taken the arts of alchemy, of science, far beyond any mortal.  That is why I came here in the first place.  Not once in that time has he taken a human life.”

“Right… And that…  That worked.  No… Dying from hunger.”

She laughed, a trifle ruefully.  “Vampires draw a great deal of power from blood, but it is not so necessary as you might believe.  The most basic effects, meeting the needs of survival, are merely chemical.”

“Right, but…  I mean…  Just looking at him…  He doesn’t exactly seem…  Like he’s been starved of blood for the past century.”

“Well…  No.  Not entirely,” she said, and tilted her head back, pulling her hair aside.

There were two small scars on her neck.

“Ahhhhhhh,” the sound stretched out, “Right.  So you’ve been feeding him your blood…  How long now?”

“Rarely,” she said, laughing, “only every few months, perhaps half as often as I could, if I truly wished it, but for well over twenty years, now.  At least…  23…  Though it took a few years…”  Her lips moved in the manner of one making calculations, “Ah, and it is the month, isn’t it…  I’d nearly forgotten…”

“Uhh…  I’m sorry, forgotten what?”

“A birthday.”

“Your…?  Birthday?  Or… His.”

“No,” she said, “Adrian’s.  My son’s.”

“Your son,” said Trevor, flatly.

“Yes.”

“With…”

“Yes.”

Trevor opened his mouth to speak, and left it open for several seconds.  Then, eventually, in a tone that suggested he’d been kicked in the gut and was forcing the words out in place of something else, he said, “Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Lisa laughed aloud.

“Perhaps you should tell him in person.  This castle, for all its amenities, is sorely lacking in people to talk to.  My husband has always said that it does not bother him, but I fear he is alone in that.”

“Right…”

“Now, that said, I ask you finish your food quickly; Adrian has been asking me to tell him the full story myself, and I have been too busy to do so for altogether too long.”

“Wh-  Oh.  Yeah.”

Trevor shoveled the rest of the food into his mouth in a few seconds and proffered the plate back to her.

“Thank you,” she said, and then, drily, “and how polite of you to not even dirty the fork.”

“Mm-“ he said, and swallowed, “No problem.  And- Uh-  Thanks.”

She laughed.  “You did save my life.  I consider this no more than is fair.”

“I mean, save your life might be a stretch…  I was going to get the shit kicked out of me by a mob until I probably also died,” said Trevor. 

His face slowly went pale.

“But that did not happen,” said Lisa, now at the door, clearly not recognizing what had just popped into his head.  “And you will make a full recovery.”

“Right,” he said, but his tone was faraway as she left.

Wait.

Wait wait wait wait wait…

Wait.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

He’d tried to save her, but then he’d failed, and was probably going to die, but then, just before he’d been able to die…  So…  She’d be dead without him.  But she’d also have been dead without Dracula.

And he…

How had he gotten out of that town, and into this bed?

There was…  There was no way she’d been able to carry him all that way…

And even if it had been her idea to save him…

Did he owe his life to Vlad Dracula Fucking Tepes?

It was going to be a long recovery.  He could feel it.

Notes:

I see a few places to go from here, but also, it's been like... 2 years since I watched the first season of this show, which is all I ever watched anyway, so I'm a bit rusty on these characters.