Chapter Text
“Master! I'm home!” Renfield called as the cathedral door eeked shut behind him.
He walked backwards, trudging along as he dragged a body across the smooth stone floor. Their breathing was shallow as they stirred weakly against his grasp. Even if they woke up he was sure they’d pose no threat to his currently quite frail master.
“Master?” He dropped the body as he turned, his eyes searching the dim light as he shouldered a small bag against his back. He really wished Dracula would come and greet him without the theatrics.
“What is this?”
The sudden swoosh and closeness of his master's rasping voice jolted him. He spun quickly around to face the vampire who already had his hands at the canvas bag.
“It's a surprise. Ah– for you, master.” Renfield answered as he quickly readjusted, hiding the bag behind his arm.
Dracula's eyes narrowed as much as his seared flesh would allow.
He was still healing from their last encounter with hunters. Already, he was looking much better than he had just after the ordeal. This had been one of the worst encounters in awhile. Dracula was practically nothing but ash when Renfield managed to kill the last hunter and smother the flames of the vampire's burning body. It took days and plenty of quality blood for Dracula to even begin to resemble something living.
Eventually, Dracula began to remind Renfield of the alligators he occasionally saw around their new home in south Florida. His skin crusted and cracked as new skin bloomed beneath giving the appearance of scales. Like the alligators, he crawled in those early days, unable to hold himself upright. Each movement was purposeful and methodical at first, until the offer of blood flowed heavier and sweeter. Only then did his master's movements quicken with alarming speed.
The silence had also changed. Instead of soft wheezing or silent words, Dracula had begun to growl low and guttural when Renfield returned with a meal. It had only been within the past day or so that Dracula started to speak and walk somewhat vertically.
It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless.
Renfield was silent as Dracula studied him. “You know how I feel about surprises.” The vampire neared a hiss.
“I– I know. But please master, trust me.” Renfield begged, giving his master the best doe eyed look he could muster.
“I haven't lived five hundred years as a vampire by trusting others, pet.” Dracula reminded him as he held out a hand for the pastel pink bag.
A frown. Renfield slid the bag from his shoulder and handed it to his master, lowering his head in defeat. This would either go just okay or terribly terribly wrong.
“Why pink?” Dracula grumbled as he dug through the bag, feeling the edge of a cardboard box against the crusted scorched skin of his fingers.
“It's pretty.” Renfield mumbled as he waited.
Dracula pulled a small box from the bag and examined it, eyeing it suspiciously. “Uvb bulb?” He asked, reading the box phonetically like a child. Frustrated by his limited knowledge of modern creations he glared at the familiar. “What is this?”
“It's called UVB. It's a heat bulb.” Renfield smiled fondly at his master. “It's meant to substitute the sun. It's for reptiles, see.” He turned the box in his master's hand showing him the picture of a basking snake on the side of the package. “I got a lamp to go with it. I thought it might help to keep you warm?”
Renfield had noticed his master's shivering as he healed. It was something the vampire tried to hide, but few things escaped Renfield's notice when it came to his master. Over the past few days Renfield did all he could to make the cathedral a sauna for the vampire, to stave off the shivering cold. He collected thick blankets and furs, kept the blood he offered as warm and fresh as he could, but nothing so far seemed to help.
For him the heat was palpable. He felt it in all of the work he did thanks to the humid Florida climate. His naturally warm state made it difficult to get much work done as his master was keen on keeping him close. Normally he wouldn't mind the closeness, it's all he craved, but the closeness came at a cost. Dracula still expected the work to get done and wasn't shy of letting Renfield know that.
“I– I mean no offense master.” Renfield stuttered suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. He could see the vampire's eyes studying the picture as he traced a claw over the brightly patterned snake. Soon he pressed the box and bag back into Renfield's hands.
“Set it up beside the nest, and be quick about it. I'm tired of you dragging your feet.” The words came out sharp and disgusted, but Renfield knew their guise. Dracula liked the gift but would never give his familiar the satisfaction of a ‘thank you'.
“Of course, master.” Renfield held the bulb in his hands, giddy, as Dracula descended on the waking body and drank his fill.