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Alucard paced the tiny hallway outside the ship’s cabins. The captain had one, Kell and Lila had claimed another, and a third was supposedly his but had been co-opted by several drunken sailors. Apparently they had occupied it previously and forgotten that their new accommodations were in the crowded hold. Alucard didn’t relish the idea of correcting them, especially since they were now asleep.
There was a fourth cabin; a makeshift prison, holding Holland. Alucard had just decided to find a space in the hold, when he heard the quietest whimper from Holland’s cell. He quietly tapped on the door.
A hoarse, quiet voice responded, “What do you want?” so Alucard opened the door, stepped in, and closed it again. Holland was sitting on the bed, evidently wide awake. Alucard supposed he slept lightly.
“Do you mind if I crash here for the night? My cabin’s been taken by its previous occupants.”
“Does it matter if I say no?” Holland’s voice was cold and brittle.
Alucard paused for a moment. “Of course it matters. Do you want me to go?”
Holland was silent for long enough that Alucard thought he wouldn’t respond, and turned to leave.
“Stay.”
Alucard turned back, and slid his back down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees pressed up to his chin in the narrow space. He looked at Holland, and then looked away. Holland gazed steadily back at him, assessing.
Silence deepened into tension. Alucard closed his eyes to break it, but was still wide awake.
“Do you plan to sleep on the floor?” Holland asked. He paused before continuing, “The bed is wide enough for two, though I’d thank you to make a trade in exchange.”
Holland was looking at him with a steady intensity again and Alucard found himself eyeing the other man, assessing. His heartbeat quickened for one moment before he heard himself say, “Alright then. What can I do for you?”
Holland paused, thinking of what to ask for. If he asked too much, Alucard might leave. But if he asked too little, he would miss the opportunity. He risked it. “Will you wrap your arms around me and keep me warm?”
The moment the words had left his mouth he regretted them. It was humiliating to ask for affection, and he knew with absolute certainty that he would never be loved again. If Holland was honest with himself, he had never been loved in the first place. Ever. Not by Alox, not by Talya. Love was too precious to survive the brutality of his London. But even something less, simple human warmth and comfort and kindness, was far too much to hope for.
Alucard’s eyes softened but he responded cautiously. “I thought you would ask for me to remove your cuffs.”
Holland said nothing and turned away.
“Hey, I’m sorry, of course I’ll hold you. It’s just not what I expected you to ask for.”
Alucard sat down on the bed, and slowly reached both arms around Holland.
For a long moment, neither said anything, and Holland slowly began to relax. Alucard slowly moved his hand over Holland’s back and felt the Antari lean into him.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to make my world as safe and prosperous as this one.” Holland felt wild and reckless letting the confession pour out of his mouth. He had nearly died today and was deeply shaken by the turn of events which placed him here, by the mercy of his mortal enemy.
He heard Alucard’s steady breath hitch in his throat.
Alucard was at a loss for words. He had only ever heard bits and pieces about what the other Londons were like from Rhy, who shared what he learned from Kell. “What is it like?” he asked.
Now that Holland had started, he couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “It’s…awful. Cold and harsh, and everyone is slowly and inevitably dying. The only way to survive is by grasping for shreds of life by any means possible.” Hollands voice wavered and took on a hollow quality. “I tried to change things, but I had so few options to choose from and then no options at all.”
Alucard’s arms tightened. Words were insufficient, but he said, “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
Holland was quiet for several minutes. He knew he was saying far too much but couldn’t hold the words back. “I was nine the first time I killed someone. It was my brother, Alox.” His voice was low and hard and devastated. “He tried to kill me for my magic. And he wasn’t the last. My first and only lover tried to kill. We lived together for months before it happened, and she wouldn’t give up. I killed her too.”
“Killing them hurt so much I wanted to die. It hurt even more to know that they loved me so little that they would take my life just to grasp at the scraps that would be left behind.”
Holland’s face was an expressionless mask as he paused, waiting for a response, but Alucard kept rubbing his back and shoulders and holding him close, so he continued.
“I tried to change things. An ally who shared my vision of a kinder world found me, and we killed the cruel and brutal king. But it didn’t last. And he was killed by monsters who were so much worse than you can possibly imagine.”
Tears were dripping from Alucard’s eyes, and Holland pulled back. This soft, gentle man could never understand the depths of the horrors he had lived through. Holland’s eyes brightened with tears, and he turned away to hide his face and lay down facing the wall with his chained hands out in front of him.
Alucard followed and carefully pressed his chest up against Holland’s back. Slowly, he reached his arm around Holland again, and began stroking his fingers along Holland’s arm. Holland slowly let out the breath he was holding.
Alucard’s fingers stopped as he felt the deep ridges lining Holland’s skin. Memories of his own, much smaller scars ached in his wrists and heart, and he silently took a key from his pocket and undid the handcuffs.
Holland moved to catch Alucard’s hand and hold it close. In response, Alucard squeezed his hand, which gave Holland the courage to continue. “The physical pain was awful, but it wasn’t the worst part. I was a passenger inside my own body for seven years. The hands that cut me were my own, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I tried. I tried everything, and it was never enough. I was powerless, forced to kill for them, to kill everyone who had trusted me and supported me, forced to kill strangers and friends and innocents, and they tormented me, until death was a mercy I could only dream of and hope to someday have.”
His chest shook once, with what might have been a sob, and then he resumed breathing in slow, careful, controlled breaths.
Alucard whispered, “You didn’t kill those people. You were a knife, and a knife may be used to take a life, but it isn’t the knife that does the killing; it’s the hand that holds it.”
More words tumbled out. “I can’t imagine the agonies you suffered, but I’m selfishly glad you survived. And I hope that you choose to keep living and that your second life is better than the first.”
Holland responded by squeezing Alucard’s hand and pulling him closer, like a warm blanket wrapped around his body. Alucard slipped his other arm under Holland and hugged him again, cuddled close.
“My own aches are so small by comparison. I had a father, a brother, a sister, and a lover who was dearer to me than life. When my brother and father found out about my lover, they beat me and I woke up with nothing on a ship headed out to sea, and made my own way. My father is dead at my hand. My sister is dead from Osaron’s fever - she was always so kind and gentle. And my lover still lives but has moved on.”
Both men went quiet. Holland broke the silence, saying, “Thank you. Although our griefs are different, I’m glad you told me. It helps me feel less alone.”
Almost as an afterthought he added, “If your lover has truly moved on, he is a fool.”