Work Text:
Sometimes (ok, most of the time), Just can’t believe this is actually his life now. Seriously, it’s starting to get downright bizarre, even for the typical zany Belmont experience.
“Would you close the curtains when you get up in the morning, Belmont? It’s quite inconvenient to move around in the sunlight,” Dracula asks, like he’s incapable of just keeping the damn curtains shut before dawn comes. I like watching the stars my ass.
Juste grumbles, but closes the curtains anyway. If he doesn’t, Maria will call him mean again and Richter will give him the cold shoulder, which hurts more than it should considering the two of them are under ten years old. They both like Dracula better than him. It sucks.
“Thank you,” says Dracula, returning to his book. It’s a children’s book Maria had picked out for him, and he’s pouring over it with the same care and intensity as he would with his own scholarly documents. Trevor Belmont would be rolling over laughing in his grave if he could see them now.
Juste sighs in defeat and moves to the kitchen, preparing a simple breakfast of bread and cheese for the kids. He’s grateful to Maria for offering up her family home for them to live in, even if it’s weird to occupy Tera’s space without her there. It certainly makes watching over everyone easier now that they have their own rooms.
Juste looks at the dirty dishes piled high on the counter, and heaves another sigh. He wishes they would contribute more to these tasks, though. Who knew Dracula avoided chores like the plague?
It’s been several months now since they’ve moved in. Any hope that Tera would be back sometime soon and save Juste from the children (and Dracula) has long evaporated into nothing.
He just hopes she’s safe, wherever she is.
Wait. Maybe there is a way for him to find her.
Juste turns to Dracula. “You wouldn’t happen to have a magic tracking device, would you?”
Dracula gives him a Look.
“Not like that.” Juste waves his hand. Getting judged by a fucking vampire is not on his to-do list today. “I need a way to find Maria’s mother.”
Dracula closes his book, a pensive look on his face. Juste knows he has a soft spot for the children, and would do anything to make them happy. “Ah, I do believe I know of the particular object you are looking for. There is a magic mirror of sorts that can tell you the whereabouts of another.”
“Great.”
“But I do not currently have it.”
“Not great.”
Dracula brings a hand up to his chin. “It has been centuries since I last used one. Perhaps it’s still at my old castle. If not, I’m sure the Belmont hold has a few in its collection.”
Juste is embarrassed to admit that he’s never once visited the Belmont Hold. It’s a long journey there, and he’s never been one for studying, anyway. He’s an act first, think later sort of guy. Just the thought of spending hours in there looking for niche objects and reading indexes makes him feel nauseous.
“What’s the Belmont Hold,” asks Richter, coming down the stairs. He’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and Maria is attached to his side, holding his hand and still half-asleep herself.
Juste isn’t surprised that Julia never told him about it—she was even less of the studious type than he was. “It’s our family archive, collecting heirlooms and artifacts from across the centuries.” The kids stare at him blankly. Figures. “Want some breakfast?”
The mention of food wakes Maria right up, and she quickly snatches the bread from his hands. She gnaws on the loaf like a little gremlin, not even bothering with the cheese.
But Richter doesn’t reach for the food. He looks between Juste and Dracula suspiciously. The corner of his mouth quivers, and Juste for the life of him can’t understand why until Richter says, “Are you going to leave us to go there?”
Oh.
Poor kid has some pretty heavy abandonment issues, considering all he’s been through. Juste doesn’t blame him. He suspects that part of the reason Richter is so skittish around him is that he thinks he’ll up and die on him one day, just like Julia.
Juste can’t actually promise him that he won’t die. He’s a badass, sure, but he’s not immortal, nor does he want to be. When you’re harassed by as many undead vampires as he is, you come to terms with the high potential of a violent death, with the added resentment of eternal life.
And let’s just say that there are a lot—and he means a lot—of vampires that want a piece of him specifically. He’s just desirable like that.
Juste sighs and walks up to Richter, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Richter avoids his eyes, but Juste doesn’t force him to look at him, instead bringing what he hopes is a comforting hand to his shoulder. “We’re not leaving you, you hear me?”
Richter shakes his head. “But you want to get rid of me, I know it. You’re going to give me to Maria’s mom and leave me.”
Ah. So he picked up on that.
Dracula puts his book away, giving Juste the stink eye, which, yeah, he might have deserved that.
Maria slides right back to Richter’s side, having finished her breakfast in a flash. She wraps her arms around his middle and leans into him. “Don’t worry. Mama would make Mr. Juste pay if he tries to leave us. Me, you, Mama, Mr. Juste, and Dracula will all live together forever.”
That actually reassures Richter, who gives her a watery smile. Juste is a bit hung up on the living together forever with Dracula part, but he’s mostly relieved Maria stepped in. She’s pretty mature for her age, and always speaks her mind. He’s proud of her.
“Richter,” Juste says, and Richter’s attention snaps back to him. “I’m not going to leave you. Not now, and not ever.”
And for the first time, Juste realizes that he really means that. Even back when he first met Richter on that rainy day, he doesn’t think he could’ve gone through with leaving him with Tera, never to see him again.
Especially not now, now that he knows Richter and his wide smile and his unfunny jokes and his charming curiosity. And Maria. Sweet, annoying Maria who’s so genuine and passionate. Juste’s life would be empty without both of them.
Richter nods timidly, but Juste knows that he doesn’t really believe him, not yet. Give it time, Juste tells himself. Give him a reason to trust you.
“As Belmont said, we are not leaving you,” Dracula says. “You both are coming with us, naturally.”
Juste opens his mouth to object, but then he thinks about it a bit more. Making the journey himself would be too dangerous alone, and he has no one to leave the kids with if just he and Dracula went.
The best option is taking them along and protecting them along the way. Dracula smiles knowingly at him, the bastard.
Richter and Maria both look up at him with hopeful eyes, Maria excited and Richter more cautious. Oh, bother. “Fine,” Just says. “You’re coming along.”
Maria cheers and throws herself in his arms. Juste lands painfully on his ass. He’s getting too old for this.
He smiles all the same.
…
“Are we there yet,” Maria whines, not even a day into their impromptu field trip.
“No,” Juste says, trying to remind himself that he doesn’t, in fact, hate children. It’s hard.
They chartered a carriage for the journey. Maria and Juste are sitting in front leading the horses, while Richter and Dracula sit inside the cart. Dracula is sleeping the day away under the shade of the hood, sitting completely still and upright because why would he be normal.
Richter crawls up to the front of the wagon, sticking his head between the two of them. Maria affectionately pets his head, and Richter lets her. “Will we really be able to find Maria’s mom?” he asks, curiosity alight in his eyes.
Juste smiles. That inquisitive mind is all Richter—he definitely didn’t inherit it from Juste or Julia. “That’s the hope, anyway,” Juste says. “The Belmont Hold will have more information on the magic mirror than I can give you.” Give the kid something to look forward to.
“Cool,” says Richter. He then crawls back to sit next to Dracula, because even he is wary of a bored Maria.
Maria throws herself across Juste’s lap, waving her arms and legs about like an eel. Juste sighs. At least she isn’t pulling his hair this time.
“Why can’t we be there yet,” she cries. “I wanna see the castle.”
“Complaining won’t get us there any faster.” Of course she’s more interested in Dracula’s castle than in the Belmont Hold.
Maria pouts. “Will there be a princess at the castle?”
Princess, huh? Juste glances back at Dracula, but he’s still sound asleep. Alucard is said to be sleeping at the castle, that is when he’s not journeying across the world. Juste wonders if Alucard knows his father still walks the Earth. All the stories say that he was killed permanently by Alucard’s hand, after all.
When they stop for the night and Maria and Richter are asleep, Juste goes up to Dracula.
Dracula is pacing by the treeline beyond the path, and looks up at Juste’s approach. “Ah. I should have expected that you would have questions.”
“Does Alucard know about you…?
“No. I didn’t know how to approach him after everything, so I kept away, wandering the Earth.” Dracula looks up at the sky, seemingly counting the stars.
Juste is in no place to judge. His own relationship with Julia was strained more often than not, but…”There is a chance that Alucard will be at the castle. You know that, right?”
Dracula remains silent, gazing at the moon. His expression is serene. After a long moment, he whispers, “Adrian.”
“What?”
“Adrian. That’s what I named him, when I first held him in my arms.”
For the first time, Just feels a twinge of empathy for Dracula. They’re not just a Belmont and a vampire, but two fathers separated from their children for an eternity.
Juste decides to stand with him stargazing, because he has nothing better to do. Not because he wanted to keep him company or anything. Ugh, it’s been decades since he’s had any friends, ok?
…
Juste ducks below a vampire’s desperate attempt to behead him, feeling his back pop awkwardly at the movement. Ah, to be old.
Dracula mows through the vampires like they’re nothing, practically slicing through them as he moves. He’s quite graceful about it, despite being completely drenched in blood.
Richter and Maria stick together, using their magic to keep them at bay. Juste keeps close to them, never letting them out of his sight.
That’s why he didn’t see the attack coming at him until it was too late.
“Motherfucker,” says Juste, with a lot of feeling. Richter looks at him with horror, but that’s probably because of the blood pooling rapidly around him rather than the swearing.
A vampire had dug their claws straight through his back, and it hurts like a bitch. He’ll walk it off eventually, but right now he’s face down in the mud, regretting all his life choices, as one does when they’re in pain.
“Are you ok?” Richter asks, tears forming in his eyes. Dracula is quickly finishing up the rest of the vampires, and can’t come near just yet.
“Sure,” says Juste. He just needs a second. Or two. Or ten.
He then realizes that Richter is probably having a flashback, considering his hyperventilating and his shaking hands. Juste brings up a weak bloodied hand and ruffles Richter’s hair. For some reason that doesn’t help much and Richter starts crying.
Then a vampire appears from behind Richter, and Juste stops thinking and just does. Everything goes black.
He wakes up with his head cushioned on Dracula’s lap. It’s bizarre, but not wholly unpleasant. “Are Richter and Maria…?” Juste coughs out, feeling strangely tired.
“Yes,” says Dracula. “You saved them with your magic.”
His magic? That’s when Juste notices that something does feel different. Besides his aching back that is. Ow.
He looks around, and sees that the ground surrounding their island of grass is scorched black. Did he do that? “Awesome,” he says, half-delirious.
Dracula chuckles, and then Juste is veritably attacked by Richter and Maria, who launch themselves on top of him. What happened to treating the injured with care?
“I was so worried,” cries Richter, at the same time Maria yells, “That was so cool!”
It’s starting to sink in that his magic is actually, really back. He understands what he was missing now. A part of him has come back, and for the first time since Julai’s death he feels whole again.
…
As he healed, Richter and Maria delighted in showing him how to use his newly reaquired magic, as if he wasn’t using it decades longer than they’ve been alive.
Richter is attached to Juste now, rarely leaving his side. He’s honestly gotten a bit protective, which is oddly cute. Juste doesn’t know what to do with him. He reminds him more of Julia by the day.
Maria keeps asking him to teach her fire magic, which is expected but still highly concerning. Dracula just smiles every time she asks instead of stopping her, because he is an asshole.
And after the hundredth time Maria asks “Are we there yet?”, Juste can finally say “Yes.”
They all stare up at the really ugly castle with very little awe. Juste has to hold Maria in his arms to prevent her from running inside without them.
“So what will it be?” Juste asks Dracula, who is mournfully lingering at the entrance, touching the old stone of the castle walls.
Dracula goes and puts a large hand on Juste’s shoulder. He’s asking for support and supporting in turn. “We shall check the castle first. There is someone I need to see.”
And so off their merry band goes into the little gothic hell-hole. It doesn’t look as dilapidated as Juste expects—Alucard must have spruced the place up over the centuries. Maria vibrates in excitement in his arms, but Richter stays close to his side, holding onto his coat.
“Will there be vampires here?” Richter tightens his grip on him.
“Just the one,” says Juste. Richter starts shaking, so Juste hurriedly explains that Alucard is a good vampire, don’t worry.
“Did someone say my name?”
And out from a nearby coffin springs Alucard, long white hair cascading down his back even though he’s still blinking the sleep from his eyes. He is the essence of elegance where Juste is a merciless slob. Honestly, it’s a bit unfair.
“Princess!” shouts Maria, launching herself from Juste’s arms and into Alucard’s before anyone can stop her. Alucard catches her with ease, looking more befuddled by the second.
Dracula chuckles. He looks wistful with misplaced pride. “You’ve always been my little princess, Adrian.”
“What,” says Alucard, going through ten different existential crises at once. Maria sniffs him a little, then nods. Juste has got to tell her to stop doing that one of these days.
Juste grabs Richter’s hand and leads him out of the room. “We’re going to look for that magic mirror thing. Good luck.”
“What.” Alucard looks desperate, but Juste is not going to help him out. Dracula nods in acknowledgement. Maria doesn’t care, and starts playing with Alucard’s hair.
“Are they going to be ok?” asks Richter with a mischievous grin.
“Probably,” says Juste.