Work Text:
Mina Harker's Journal, written on the Orient Express:
Our journey brings a sense of false peace, an eye of the storm. Perhaps it is the coupling of the action of travel along with being unable to do anything currently but wait for the next leg of the trip.
We travel with grim purpose, but a purpose nonetheless.
To have such a cause, it's as if a brightly-lit bridge has appeared, swathing through a fog of grief and helplessness to show us the way forward.
It helps to have a plan and purpose, as it helps to not be alone. My Jonathan and I are surrounded by friends and allies, and they too seem to feel this calm.
Jonathan and I have been as close as if we’ve become one being, a Mina-and-Jonathan. Though I sleep much, whenever I wake he is always there to greet me. I let go of his hands only to take up the pen, and my dearest’s name remains on my lips, on my mind, on my page.
Mr. Morris, brave soul, is like a hound straining the leash, ready to be loosed for the hunt. He paces so, wary and watching.
Lord Godalming waxes and wanes in periods of brief intensity and then quiet resolution. I hope at some point to catch him alone that he might unburden himself to me - if he wishes.
And as for Dr. Seward and Dr. Van Helsing, the two of them have been as thick as thieves. (Which, by my understanding of their break-ins, they may as well be, I suppose!)
It is mainly of those last two worthies that I intend to write.
As we left Paris, Dr. Seward made a show of settling in for a journey of great studies. He quite took over a small unfolding table and half of a bench in our compartment with the papers he had brought with him.
The diagrams which I could see looked fairly alarming - all frogs and copper wires- but strangely fascinating in their own way. I was planning to ask him if I might borrow a few for reading during the trip.
However, the moment he picked up his first pamphlet, the doctor promptly leaned back against the cushioned seat and fell soundly asleep.
Mr. Morris remarked that he’s heard some people find the motion of the train to be soothing, but that he’s never seen the soporific action take effect so quickly.
Despite his funning, I could tell that he was actually very concerned for the doctor. And, indeed, Dr. Seward’s face was troubled, and showed that he was receiving no respite in his dreams, for all the body craves rest. We all have reason to understand this, of late.
We were still within the bounds of the city when Van Helsing emerged from the adjoining sleeper car that Lord Godalming had managed to get for us.
The professor took one look at the situation and promptly settled in next to Dr. Seward. He neatly reordered the papers and sat closely next to the doctor so that he mightn’t fall over with the sway of the train or his own nodding head.
Van Helsing proceeded to alternate between making soothing noises to the doctor if he tensed in his sleep, and then frowning most fiercely at Mr. Morris or Lord Godalming if it seemed they were making too much noise as they wandered to and from the compartment. Otherwise, the time passed quietly, as the professor insisted it should.
When we reached the station in Vienna, Dr. Seward’s sleep halted with the train.
He sat up abruptly, tiredness still in his eyes, and finger-combed his hair back in order matter of factly. I suppose a doctor is accustomed to catching sleep where he can.
He and Van Helsing conferred quietly, and they were both alert during the stop. He took appreciative notice of our surroundings through the window and nodded to the porter who came over to attend to our nonexistent needs, likely in hope of another extravagantly generous tip. (Which he did justly get, from my very dear husband who takes exceeding joy in giving these luxurious tips.)
Though he made a good show of wakefulness, when the rhythm of the wheels began anew, the good doctor dropped back into slumber immediately.
I was about to suggest waking him so that he could move into the sleeper car, when he rested his head on Van Helsing’s shoulder with a sigh of contentment, and settled against his side.
Lord Godalming remarked it for a rarity, as, “Jack doesn’t sleep well even in his own house.”
But the professor waved him off into silence in an imperious way that had me stifling a laugh, just as if Arthur was a student talking out of turn in class.
Presently, after much miming of their plans (and frowning for silence in their direction on the part of the professor) Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming went outside to practice a trick for sighting with a scope. Becoming a ‘deadeye’ sounds highly useful; perhaps I will learn another day.
But, for that moment, I wished to stay in the compartment with Jonathan.
We sat in companionable silence for some peaceful moments, and then, for a change of pace, Jonathan fell asleep while I was the one awake.
He lay with his head in my lap, as he used to while we were ‘stepping out,’ as they say. I ran my hands through his hair, and though the shade is now closer to bone than the fawn it once looked, his curls are as dear to me as they ever were.
On the other side of the car, Dr. Seward continued to nestle up against the professor until he was more than half in the man’s arms, now sleeping very peacefully.
Van Helsing and I smiled at each other in total understanding, and, not wanting to wake the sleepers, made quiet signs at each other to show our amusement and affection.
The doctor woke more calmly this time, and seemed more than slightly embarrassed to find himself in an embrace.
But the professor clucked to him and gentled him with soft murmurs (I couldn’t hear what was said, but he spoke in the way of one quoting), until Dr. Seward smiled up at him with drowsy affection and a trust that quite cheered my heart to see. We’ve all of us lost some of our innocence these past four months, and it’s a balm to the soul to see goodness in human nature.
These quiet glimpses of joy are themselves eyes of the storm, and they are to be cherished.
Dr. Seward revived and began to discuss his papers with the professor, while it became my turn to guard Jonathan’s sleep from their whispering.
I won’t include this moment in the documentation of the monster we seek. It isn’t as if there isn’t love enough in these pages.
…but I think I’ll tell Jonathan, of course.