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The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and Mina breathed shallowly, trying not to choke on it.
It was red.
Mina knew perfectly well what blood looked like, of course. But it still struck her, how red it was. How bright and vivid against the dull gray of the ground, against Dr. Seward’s pale hands, against the lips and chin of...
It was a body, now.
Mr. Morris’s hand had gone limp in her grasp, his eyes glassy and unmoving. Lord Godalming had a hand on his shoulder, and Dr. Seward still had his hands pressed to Mr. Morris’s side, trying desperately to stanch the flow. As Mina watched, Dr. Seward slowly released the pressure and clenched his hands in the fabric of Mr. Morris’s coat.
One of the Professor’s hands was on Mr. Morris’s lower leg, the other on Dr. Seward’s back. Mr. Morris—his body, rather—leaned back against Jonathan, who had helped him sit up during his final moments.
It struck Mina as ironic, somehow, that Mr. Morris’s was the only visible face unmarred by tears.
No one had spoken. No one had moved, perhaps afraid acknowledging it would make it real.
But someone had to.
Mina was about to say something—precisely what, she knew not—when Lord Godalming slowly reached out and closed Mr. Morris’s eyes.
Mina raised Mr. Morris’s hand to her face and kissed it, then slowly let go.
It was Jonathan who spoke first.
“We should bury him,” he said, grief choking his voice.
“That may present some difficulty,” said the Professor. “The ground is frozen.” He removed his hand from Mr. Morris and knocked on it to demonstrate.
Lord Godalming glared at him. “We can’t just leave him out here for the wolves!”
“What then do you propose?” the Professor asked calmly.
“We should take him back with us.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Dr. Seward snapped. “Carrying a body across national borders, with no way to explain how or why he...” He cut off and took a deep breath, then continued with the same fury in his voice. “What, do you want to take him on the train?”
Lord Godalming’s face contorted with rage as he turned to Dr. Seward. “Yes, if need be! We can’t—”
“Friend Arthur—” the Professor began.
“If you’re going to tell me to calm down—”
“I had in mind rather to remind you that no one here is your enemy.” The Professor moved his hand from Dr. Seward’s shoulder to Lord Godalming’s and squeezed it, ignoring his halfhearted attempt to shrug it off. “We all want to do right by our young friend. There is no question. The question, where it lies, is a matter of possibility, not of intention.”
Lord Godalming shut his eyes. “I—”
Mina gently took his hand, and he looked down at it, almost as though surprised.
Mina briefly wondered if she’d overstepped, but they were well past that.
Lord Godalming took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “You’re right, I suppose. Jack...”
He couldn’t finish the sentence, and Dr. Seward didn’t reply.
Mina steeled herself and spoke. “There’s a hollow in the rock, over there,” she said. “We have no way to seal it, but...”
“There are worse things than wolves in the world,” said Jonathan grimly. “Mina, are you all right?”
“Quite,” she said, before realizing that wasn’t remotely true. “I mean... as all right as can be expected. He’s really gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Jonathan frowned, and Mina suspected he’d been asking a good deal more than that, but they didn’t have time for the longer answer, and after a moment Jonathan seemed to understand and accept that fact as well. “In that case, may I hug you now?”
“Please.”
Jonathan gently lay Mr. Morris’s body down, and Dr. Seward shifted over so Mr. Morris’s head and upper body rested in his lap. Jonathan stood shakily, helped Mina to her feet, and pulled her into an embrace as fierce as any they’d ever known.
Mina hugged him back, their bodies swaying back and forth slightly from the force of it.
She was warm, she was safe, she was home.
The grief was still there. But for a moment, it was secondary.
Of course, all too soon, the moment ended.
Mina let go first. There were other things to attend to.
Without speaking, Lord Godalming stood and moved around to Mr. Morris’s feet. Jonathan took up a position on his left, the Professor on his right, and together they lifted him as carefully and ceremoniously as could be managed.
Mina led the way to the makeshift tomb, trying not to think about how recently she’d lain there herself.
Her bed of furs was still in place, and the pall-bearers slowly lowered Mr. Morris onto it.
“We should read the Burial Service,” said Mina. “Does anyone have the prayer book?”
Without a word, the Professor pulled a Book of Common Prayer from his bag. “I was hoping not to need this.”
He handed it to Mina.
“Oh,” she said, then held the book out to Dr. Seward and Lord Godalming. “No, you two knew him longer—”
“We all loved him,” said Lord Godalming. “And I suspect Quincey would be honored to have you read.” He glanced at Dr. Seward, and something passed between them that Mina couldn’t identify.
Mina opened the book to the correct page, stepped out into the failing light, and began to read.
The holy words sat comfortably on her tongue, and that alone was nearly enough to start her crying again.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
By the time she finished reading, darkness had fallen completely, and the Professor was holding a small electric lamp over the page.
They stood in the lamplight, regarding each other uncertainly.
The horses had bolted. They were miles from the nearest town, it was a dark, cloudy night, the snow was starting to come down faster, and they could all hear the howling of the wolves.
“I think I know the way to town,” Jonathan finally said. “But it’s... some distance.”
“There is shelter nearer,” said the Professor.
“Where?” asked Dr. Seward. “Even if we were to disturb Quincey’s tomb so far as to take shelter there, there’s not enough room for us all.”
“That is not the shelter to which I was referring,” said the Professor.
Mina had an awful feeling she knew what he meant.
Of the others, Jonathan seemed to get it first. “No! That’s... there are still monsters—”
“He killed them,” Mina said simply, gesturing to the Professor.
“—even notwithstanding that, that place is cursed! I... I won’t go back.”
“Jonathan,” said Mina gently. “Look around. I’m so sorry, but... it’s that or we all die.”
Apparently, hearing it put so bluntly was enough, because Jonathan slowly nodded. “All right.”
...
Somehow, they arrived at the castle without freezing, getting lost, or being eaten by wolves.
Jonathan took a shuddering breath as he beheld the place in all the world he’d least wanted to lay eyes on again.
Mina put a hand on his shoulder, and he resumed walking towards the door.
When he got there, he blinked.
The door had been taken off its hinges, and lay discarded on the ground.
“That was my doing,” said the Professor in response to Jonathan’s nervous look.
“Will the wolves come in?” asked Lord Godalming.
“There are more doors inside,” said Jonathan, taking what was hopefully a subtle deep breath. “And we can make a fire. We’ll need to do that anyway, to keep warm.”
For a moment, they stood there as Jonathan regarded the place where the door had been.
Mina slid her hand off his shoulder and took his hand.
Jonathan took what he was sure was a distinctly unsubtle deep breath, squeezed Mina’s hand, and walked through the entryway.
As they made their way in, the hall illuminated by the Professor’s lamp, Jonathan blinked to clear from his eyes the faint overlay of the first night he’d been here. Of the Count walking ahead of him, carrying his bags.
When he reached the first fork in the passage, Jonathan hesitated.
Taking their party into parts of the castle he hadn’t explored was a terrible idea. He didn’t know what might lurk around the dark corners, and he didn’t want to find out.
That left the places he’d already been—most of which he had no desire whatsoever to return to.
The Count is dead. Truly dead. So are the rest of the monsters. They can’t hurt me anymore.
In one of the places, at least, it would be easy to build a fire.
Jonathan led his companions to the room by the dining room, where he and Dracula used to sit by the fireplace and talk.
At least here, it had only been talking.
There was still some wood by the fireplace, and some matches. Thank goodness.
“We need to get a fire going,” Jonathan said, only to realize he was whispering.
There’s no reason to whisper. There’s nothing left here to hurt us.
Are you sure about that?
“Do we have kindling?” asked Lord Godalming, in a voice somewhere between his normal voice and Jonathan’s whisper.
Jonathan looked around, seeing nothing that would serve as kindling.
“The library is just through here,” he eventually said. “I’m sure I can find a book suitable for that purpose.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Mina immediately, and Jonathan felt a rush of warmth that nearly drove out the cold knot of fear that had settled into his chest.
Jonathan took the lamp from the Professor, Mina took his hand, and they began their search of the library.
It didn’t take Jonathan long to find what he was looking for.
“I don’t think anyone will miss a Bradshaw’s fifty years out of date,” he said, and Mina nodded agreement.
When they arrived back in the room where the rest of the party were gathered, Lord Godalming lost no time in starting the fire.
The light and warmth instantly cheered the room, though Jonathan still couldn’t shake the feeling that calling attention to themselves was a bad idea.
It’s the memories. Nothing more.
The Professor, meanwhile, had taken some bread and dried meat out of his bag. “How much food does everyone have?”
Everyone who had a bag checked it. Jonathan found a hunk of cheese and some more bread, but not much.
Between them, though, they managed to scrape together enough for everyone to have some.
Mina stared down at her food, looking distressed.
The Professor looked even more distressed. “You must eat,” he said. “Can you not?”
“I—no, it’s not that, it’s—I don’t know,” whispered Mina.
Jonathan, who sat beside her, put his hand on her back and leaned in. “Try?” he said. “For me?”
Mina nodded. “Would you all... not look at me?”
Jonathan turned away, and saw the others doing the same.
After a moment, Mina said, “you can look.”
The food was gone, and Mina was staring around at everyone else’s, though clearly trying not to be too obvious about it.
Jonathan was hungry. He hadn’t eaten all day except for a few bites that morning, and his stomach was letting him know quite vehemently that it didn’t appreciate that.
From the look in her eyes, Mina was hungrier.
“Here,” said Jonathan, holding out his food. “Have mine.”
Mina shook her head. “You need that.”
“I’ll live.”
“Friend Jonathan, you need your food for yourself. Madam Mina is wise not to take too much on an empty stomach,” said the Professor.
Jonathan frowned. He was about to ask if they’d run out of food, but the Professor had been the first to produce food out of his bag, so clearly they hadn’t.
Why...
Mina shot him an I’ll explain later glance.
Jonathan frowned, but acquiesced, and ate his share of the food, as did everyone else.
“Professor?” asked Mina.
“Yes?”
“Should we make a holy circle?” She turned to Jonathan. “He has a way of keeping evil out. I promise, it’s effective.”
The Professor nodded. “That may be wise.” With that, he retrieved something from his bag, then showed it to Jonathan. It was a packet of holy wafer.
Jonathan nodded, and the Professor rose and crumbled the wafer in a circle around the little group.
“So long as we remain in the circle, we are safe from the agents of the Devil, at least those not fully of this Earth,” said the Professor as he sat.
Jonathan smiled weakly.
“It will be best, and easiest, if we all sleep close,” the Professor continued. “The furs will cover us all then, and we can all remain in the holy circle.”
Jonathan winced. He knew he would likely have nightmares tonight, and he didn’t especially care to have everyone right there for that.
But he knew the Professor was right.
Jonathan took a deep breath and lay down. “The sooner we all go to sleep, the sooner it will be morning and the sooner we can all get out of here.”
“Amen,” said Dr. Seward.
Mina crawled into Jonathan’s arms, and Lord Godalming lay down against his back. Behind them, Jonathan could hear Dr. Seward lying down, and a moment later felt a soft weight on him as the Professor lay the furs over the assembled group.
A moment later, the Professor lay down too.
Jonathan held Mina tighter and silently prayed that morning would arrive quickly and without incident.
...
Mina woke to the sadly familiar sound of Jonathan crying out in panic.
Normally, she would try to wake him gently, without touching him. But considering the way he was tossing and flailing against her, if he hadn’t woken the entire pile of sleepers by now, he certainly would soon.
Praying she wasn’t making a massive mistake, Mina reached out and shook him.
With another cry, Jonathan’s eyes flew open, glittering in the dim light from the fire.
“Shh, love,” said Mina gently. “It’s all right. I’m here, you’re all right.”
She kept up the soothing babble until, slowly, Jonathan began to settle down.
He’d almost relaxed when he suddenly jolted and looked around frantically.
At home, Mina would have kept talking to him until he remembered where he was. Right now, though, he clearly knew where he was, and that was the opposite of a comfort.
Time to try reason. “It’s all right. The Professor put a holy circle around us, remember? We’re safe.”
Jonathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. Sometimes after a nightmare he had difficulty talking, and Mina had learned to be patient.
“I-I suppose,” he finally got out, in a whisper so quiet Mina could barely hear. “Mina...”
Jonathan was clinging to her like he was drowning, clinging so tightly that Mina could feel every spot where one of his fingers dug in.
She pulled him even closer and just held him, feeling his rapid heartbeat against her body, his ragged, quick breathing.
Eventually, both slowed to something approaching normal.
“I’m right here,” Mina said softly. “What do you need?”
Jonathan looked at her with eyes that still held traces of tears. “Just you.”
Mina’s chest ached. “Here I am.”
“I—Mina, I—help me think about something else.” Jonathan’s tone was frighteningly close to begging.
Mina cast around for ideas, and netted what was either exactly what Jonathan needed or the worst idea she’d ever had.
Here goes nothing.
She took a breath, prayed that their friends were still asleep, then kissed him.
She expected hesitation, or possibly even to be pushed away, but Jonathan surprised her by kissing back, instantly, fervently.
Which made some sense, she supposed. He needed a distraction, and besides, this was their first kiss since they’d parted at that train station, unaware if they’d ever see each other again... good God, had that only been a week ago?
It didn’t matter. Everything was falling away except Jonathan, pressed up against her, kissing her like his life depended on it.
Behind Jonathan, a throat cleared.
Jonathan immediately pulled back, eyes wide, blushing so hard Mina could see it even in the firelight.
“Hey!” exclaimed Dr. Seward, from the sound of it in response to someone’s elbow. “I merely thought they might want to know they’re not the only ones awake.”
“Let them have their moment!” hissed Lord Godalming.
“I think that ship has sailed,” Mina managed.
Jonathan buried his face in her shoulder.
“In that case,” said Lord Godalming, “let’s all just go back to sleep.” His voice was bone tired, the kind of exhaustion that went beyond the physical.
Mina felt Jonathan tense.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Fine,” Jonathan snapped out.
Mina suspected she knew the problem.
“I’ll be right here. All night. And our friends are here too, they’ll keep us safe.”
“If it would help,” said the Professor, startling Mina, who hadn’t known he was awake, “I will keep watch.”
Jonathan was silent. Mina suspected he was simply too embarrassed to speak.
“That would be lovely,” said Mina.
...
When Jonathan woke to faint traces of light creeping in from the window in the other room, he could have cried with relief.
Instead, he gently shook Mina, who was still sleeping. “Wake up, love.”
Mina groaned and turned to face him. “Is it morning?”
“Yes.”
Mina nodded, stretched, and sat up.
The Professor, true to his word, was keeping watch in the corner of the room. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” said Jonathan, beginning to rouse the others.
When Lord Godalming awoke, his face registered confusion, then collapsed and contorted for a moment before he mastered himself and returned to a calm demeanor.
“I’m sorry,” said Jonathan, knowing it meant nothing.
Lord Godalming took a deep breath and sat up, then silently turned and shook Dr. Seward.
Jonathan looked away. However much he’d cared for Mr. Morris, the others had been his friends and companions far longer. Their shared grief wasn’t for him to see.
Instead, he turned back to Mina. “How did you sleep?” A faint memory tugged at his mind, and he looked down. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”
“Alright,” said Mina. “I... I must have been too tired to dream.”
Jonathan nodded. Probably a mercy. “And... how are you? Really?”
Mina sighed and gave him a we-can-discuss-that-later look. “I’m all right.”
“We should get out of here,” said Dr. Seward. “Mr. Harker, do you know the way to town?”
Jonathan sighed. “I don’t remember where I went after I got away,” he said. “But I know the way back to Bistritz. Fair warning, it’s a long journey on foot.”
“Well then,” said Mina, surprising everyone, including, by her expression, herself. “We’d best get going.”
...
By the time they got to town, Mina was exhausted, her feet hurt, and she was dizzy from hunger.
She wasn’t complaining, however. That wouldn’t help anyone.
Besides. After having a monster in her head for a month... the ordinary pains of life as a free woman felt almost refreshing.
Jonathan seemed to know where he was going, and everyone followed.
Soon, they arrived at an inn, and Jonathan knocked on the door.
A woman answered the door, and frowned for a moment.
Then, she took a step back, face slack, eyes wide.
“Hello,” said Jonathan in German. “It’s all right. See?” He held up his crucifix.
The woman sputtered some words in mixed German and a language Mina didn’t recognize. The German Mina caught meant something along the lines of “What... how...?”
“I came to say thank you. This saved my life.” Jonathan gestured to the crucifix again. “And I’m sorry. I should have listened.”
“I’m glad to see you alive.” The woman gestured to Mina, smiling. “Is this Mina?”
“Yes. My wife.” Jonathan put an arm around her, and Mina leaned into the touch.
“You married, good!” The woman smiled at Mina. “Have you made my chicken?”
Mina, whose German wasn’t quite up to the task of explaining that, yes, she’d found the recipe in Jonathan’s journal, but that neither one of them particularly wanted to eat it anymore—nor did she know if it would be rude to say so—said simply, “not yet.”
“I’m here to tell you,” said Jonathan. “We killed the monster.” He gestured around at the others. “He’s gone.”
The woman’s eyes opened even wider. Then, she frowned. “You lie.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I swear it.”
The woman was staring at Jonathan’s white hair. Then, she abruptly seemed to recover herself. “It’s impossible.”
“Not impossible.” Jonathan looked away from the woman, out into the snow. “I know how he is. How he makes you feel there is no hope. My friends didn’t know of him, so we were fools enough to try, and it surprised him.” Jonathan swallowed hard. “And a great friend of ours died to do it.”
The woman looked around at them, taking in their haggard faces and dirty clothes, and slowly seemed to believe them. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
...
Jonathan sat at the table in the downstairs of the inn, a painful silence in the air.
They’d all been shown to their rooms and had the opportunity to clean up a bit, which had been glorious, though they had no clean clothes to put on.
Then, they’d met back here for supper.
Supper, as it turned out, was some sort of stew, which was quite tasty—or, at least, Jonathan thought so.
He and the Professor were the only ones eating.
Jonathan put down his spoon. “Mina,” he said gently. “Come on. You must be hungry.”
Mina winced and turned away, then picked up her spoon with the air of one fulfilling some unpleasant duty.
Jonathan’s heart ached to see her putting the food in her mouth slowly, mechanically, and looking pained as she chewed.
Still, she was at least eating.
Which was more than could be said for Lord Godalming or Dr. Seward.
They appeared to be having a silent conversation with their eyes, a conversation the details of which Jonathan was unable to translate.
“Friends,” said the Professor finally. “You must eat. Friend Quincey would not want you to starve on his account.”
Lord Godalming picked up his spoon and began to eat in much the same manner as Mina.
Dr. Seward glared at the Professor and didn’t move.
Eventually, Lord Godalming set down his spoon and looked at him. “He’s right.”
The innkeeper walked over from the other side of the room and stopped beside Jonathan. “Is the food all right?” she asked.
“It’s wonderful,” said Jonathan. “My friends are sad, and so not hungry.”
“It’s true,” said Dr. Seward in German that was far less accented than Jonathan’s. He took a bite. “Yes, it’s good.”
“I’m glad. And I understand. But you should eat. Your friend did a great thing, and will be rewarded, I am sure.”
Dr. Seward looked like he was just holding himself back from saying something, but refrained and instead put another bite of stew in his mouth.
The innkeeper left.
Jonathan looked over at Mina again, to see her eating with substantially more enthusiasm, though she still looked miserable.
“Madam Mina,” said the Professor. “Glad as I am to see you eat, you must be careful not to overexert your stomach at this time.”
Mina nodded dully and put her spoon down.
Jonathan took a breath. “Darling,” he said, “Would you like to return to our room?”
Mina nodded and rose from her chair in the same mechanical way she’d been eating earlier.
Jonathan took her arm, and they headed for their room.
...
Mina sat down on the bed in the room she was sharing with Jonathan, trying not to let him see the mass of emotions swirling away within her.
She was free. Mr. Morris was dead. The monster was gone. Lucy was dead, and she wouldn’t see her again until, hopefully, they met in Heaven. Jonathan was alive. She was alive.
She wasn’t sure if that last was a good thing or not.
What right did she have to survive when Mr. Morris hadn’t? When Lucy hadn’t? The monster had come after her, had left his vile mark on her soul, and a good man had died to expunge it—the same mark that had dragged sweet, brave Lucy out of life and into the horrible realm Mina had come so close to joining.
He’d said it was worth it.
Who was she, that her friends should do such things for her?
“Mina dear?”
Jonathan had sat down next to her, and was trying to catch her eyes.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly.
“We’re alone now,” he said. “No one’s going to hear but me. So tell me: how are you? Truly?” He smiled weakly. “And don’t try to spare me. I’ll know, and it will only hurt me more than whatever you have to say.”
Mina looked down. “I...” she swallowed. “I don’t know how.”
It was the truth. Putting words to the swirling mass of thoughts and feelings currently occupying her mind felt an impossible task.
“All right,” said Jonathan, taking her hands in his. “Can you try?”
Mina made no move either to pull away or to grasp them back.
He was her husband. She ought to give him this, to at least try. He was asking so kindly, and seemed to at least believe he truly wanted the answer.
Mina thought for a moment.
When an answer popped into her head, she didn’t stop to consider whether it made sense or not.
“I am in blood,” she whispered. “Steeped in so far that, should I wade no more, returning be as tedious as go o’er.”
“All right.” Jonathan nodded, then dropped one of her hands, raised his newly freed hand, and caressed her cheek. “Just... I’m here. And I’ll be with you the whole way.”
Mina finally looked into his eyes, only to look away again instantly.
The pure love she saw was just... too much, right now.
But maybe, she could at least try to accept it. For Jonathan.
“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling exhaustion crash over her. “Might we go to sleep now?”
Jonathan smiled faintly. “Of course.”
...
When Jonathan awoke the next morning (blessedly, he’d had no nightmares, being perhaps too exhausted for his mind to put forth the effort), he immediately knew something was wrong.
He looked over at Mina, and his heart sank.
She was lying still, eyes closed, but obviously not asleep. She was breathing quickly, seemingly trying to breathe through her mouth—
The smell of blood permeated the air.
Jonathan started to panic before he remembered that there was a perfectly innocuous explanation for that.
Thinking about it, it had been—
Yes, Mina had been bleeding when—
It had been about a month.
“Darling?” Jonathan asked in a quiet voice. “Are you all right?”
“There’s...” Mina whispered back. “I looked. I shouldn’t’ve looked—”
“Hey,” said Jonathan. “It’s all right. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I got the sheets all messy, I looked, there’s so much—”
“Damn the sheets.”
Mina opened her eyes and looked at him, surprise evident in her features.
Jonathan smiled weakly. “I only care about you right now.”
“But the innkeeper’s going to have to wash them, and she’s been so kind to us, she saved your life and now I’m making her do extra work...” Mina’s voice was a tense, thin whisper, like steam escaping a teakettle before the whistling starts.
“This isn’t your fault,” Jonathan replied.
Mina squeezed her eyes shut again. “And I only have one set of clothes and my underclothes, it’s all over them, I can’t wear them all the way home but I don’t have any more, and—”
“That I can do something about,” said Jonathan, beginning to get up.
Mina’s arm shot out and grabbed his, and Jonathan stopped and lay back down.
“All right,” he said. “I won’t go anywhere until you’re ready.”
Mina nodded, eyes still closed. “Even if you get me more, I’ll ruin them just as fast. And it’s still a few days to get home.”
Jonathan frowned. He didn’t especially want to say what he was about to say, but the normal distance among their little band of companions was pretty much gone already, and if it might help... “I’m sorry about this, but may I ask Dr. Seward? He may know some way to slow it down.”
Mina winced. “I doubt any such way exists, but yes, you may ask.”
“Let me know when you’re ready for me to get up.”
Mina swallowed hard. “You can go.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Slowly, Jonathan rose, watching for any sign that Mina needed him to return, and went out.
...
Mina lay as still as she could, waiting for Jonathan to return and trying not to get lost in memories.
It was ridiculous. This was a perfectly normal occurrence (even if she’d really been hoping to skip this one), one that was going to repeat regularly for, from what Mrs. Westenra had told her, another twenty-five to thirty years.
She needed to stop being such a child about it.
And if the smell of blood, and the sight of it against bedsheets especially, brought up memories she’d prefer to forget—
Well, that was no one’s problem but her own, and she needed to deal with it like the capable adult she was.
There was a knock at the door.
Jonathan. She hadn’t expected him back so soon, but she was grateful.
Whatever she told herself, she had to admit that being alone was probably not especially good for her right now. It left her mind too much freedom to run amok.
“Come in,” she called.
Jonathan came in, carrying some off-white cloth that slowly resolved itself into a chemise and some sort of drawers.
Despite herself, Mina smiled slightly.
“The innkeeper said you helped kill the monster that’s been menacing this area for centuries, she’d be ungrateful indeed if she wouldn’t give you some underwear. She also said not to worry about the sheets, that it happens more often than you think.” Jonathan dropped the underthings on the bed and sat down next to them.
Then, his face twisted up. “I also spoke with Dr. Seward.”
“And what did he say?” asked Mina. Jonathan’s expression was making her nervous.
“He said there’s a way to stop the flow of blood completely, but you have to take a piece of cloth and put it... inside where the blood is coming from.” Jonathan was staring resolutely at the wall past Mina’s head.
“That must have been an interesting conversation,” Mina observed to cover her own embarrassment.
“It was,” Jonathan said lightly. “Apparently it’s usually only done in medical emergencies, if the flow is exceptionally heavy and the patient is in danger of losing too much blood, but... we agreed this counts as an emergency.”
Mina’s instinct was to protest.
Instead, she pulled back the covers.
Jonathan’s eyes went wide, and he winced in sympathy. “Oh my. Yes, that is a lot.”
“Mine are often like this on the first day,” Mina said, reaching for the undergarments. “Do you have a bit of cloth I could use for...”
Jonathan nodded, retrieving a small rag from the pile. “The doctor says to roll it into a cylinder.”
Mina nodded, and Jonathan went to stand in the corner, facing the wall, which Mina thought a tad unnecessary, but considerate all the same.
Shedding her filthy underclothes and putting on clean ones felt wonderful, and Mina allowed herself to enjoy the feeling for a moment, before tackling the hard part.
After an extremely awkward and mildly painful few minutes, the rag was situated.
Mina couldn’t feel it, which surprised her. She’d expected it to be uncomfortable in the extreme.
“You can look,” she called, and Jonathan turned around.
“Any better?” he asked.
“Much,” Mina replied.
She was starting to roll up her disgusting underclothes when Jonathan smiled. “We can probably just leave those here, and buy you some new ones when we get home.”
Mina blinked. This having-money thing was going to take some getting used to.
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose we can.”
Mina folded her bloody clothes, set them gently on the bed, and walked away.