Chapter Text
That stupid pale reflection stared back, just like always. Gregory sucked a breath, then blew it back out, eyes running over his own face: so much paler than anyone he knew, interrupted only by a jagged scar that ran from his cheek to the bridge of his nose, left from a time he’d messed with his adoptive father’s equipment. Silver equipment, no less.
Silver…
Gregory closed his eyes, breathing deeper. His head dipped and locks of fluffy long hair fell forward, while he gripped the sink’s edge. The bathroom around him grew distant; the rest of the house did, where he could hear the soft voices of Freddy and Vanessa downstairs. More time had passed since Gregory first started noticing oddities about himself, first triggered by an incident. He had saved Vanessa and moved much too fast for a normal human, during said rescue. After that came the other realizations. He could have ruled them off, if not for that inciting event. And, well…
Lids cracking open, he stared himself down once more. He opened his mouth, using a finger to pull back his upper lip and get a better look at one of his canines. Sharp…so sharp. They hadn’t always been this way, but now they looked so much like fangs.
His chest squeezed, and he shook his head, whirling away from the mirror. He could feel his heart thudding against ribs, and even with his back turned, he tested a fang’s tip with his tongue. The sharpness stung after a few prods, and he shook his head harder.
“No,” he whispered, hands fisting against his face. “No, I am being silly. I am normal. Always have been.” He bit harder, and this time a coppery taste tinged. “Taică would not approve. Vampires are evil, and there is no reason I would…I-I would be…I…” Now his eyes burned. He blinked tears back furiously, whirling again to the bathroom mirror. The reddened puffiness of crying had begun, and he took calmer breaths again to fight it. As he did, he opened his mouth, despairing at the sight of a small puncture on his tongue. Blood beaded out, and some smeared his left fang, the one he’d been testing.
Grimacing, he frantically fumbled for a cloth, stored in the nearest cabinet. The metallic sting was rid by furious wiping and then gargling with water. “See?” he whispered and checked again that no more blood was showing. Thankfully, the mark he’d left on his tongue didn’t appear deep. “Blood does not taste good; vampires need blood, but I do not like or need it. So, I am not one. Also, I go out in the sun, and I have a reflection, so I cannot…I…”
His face screwed up. With a frustrated grunt, he flung the cloth away then stormed out. If not a vampire, then what? He knew those movements of his had been supernatural, and how could his complexion and teeth be a coincidence? He had to figure this out; make sure he wasn’t a monster. He couldn’t be! The thought was a horrid, impossible one.
The adoptive son of a Van Helsing…of Cassidy Van Helsing, himself the most renowned and mysterious monster hunter around being a vampire? The best hunter in Romania, who specializes…well…
In vampires.
It terrified Gregory in a way he had never felt before.
So, he shoved it down. Instead, entering his room, he locked the door and faced the farthest wall from where he stood. Maybe it was a fluke, he thought. Maybe I imagined moving so fast! And I also just happen to look slightly like a vampire. Yes! That has to be it! Exhaling, he planted his feet and tensed, ready. I have to at least test it. Then, I will know for sure that I’m being silly and dumb.
Vampires could defy gravity—walk up walls and hang upside down, almost like he had done on that tree, when saving his older sister. If he couldn’t do it again, then it hadn’t happened like that.
So, off he went, not caring how loud his footsteps thudded the floor, or if he ended up falling flat on his back. He let himself remember that moment in the forest as he went; the sight of the ragged, cat-like beast charging Vanessa, and the flood of panic and protectiveness that surged through his veins at the time. Then, he let instinct take over, doing the first thing he thought of: running then springing off the floor. His feet hit the wall…
No impact followed; no great crash to the floor.
He kept running.
Gregory’s head spun as he raced up the wall, face almost smacking the ceiling, before he screamed and lost focus. Down he went, hitting the floor and sending his head spinning even harder. His breaths rushed and shuddered, and he curled, one hand gripping his hair, while the other shot into his mouth to touch his sharp tooth. That stupid, stupid tooth.
I ran up a wall…I ran up a wall…
He squeezed his eyes and curled tighter. The sharpness of his tooth poked through skin, burning hard.
I’m pale…I have fangs…
His hand dropped to the floor, and he reopened his eyes to stare at the seeping blood with blurry vision. Tears pricked and overflowed.
What do I do? What will Taică say?
“What am I?” he whispered, tongue brushing his vampiric teeth as he did.
A sudden interruption burst through his spiral. “Gregory?!” The door flung open, and Vanessa burst in.
He gasped and quickly rubbed at his face, sitting up, hoping the tears weren’t visible. “N-Nessie!”
“Are you alright? What was that thud and scream, you little goblin?” She was at his side in mere moments. “Papa will kill me if you get hurt on my watch.”
Gregory struggled a moment, both from his myriad of jumbled, scared thoughts, and the sudden shift to English. He didn’t even bother speaking back in it. “I…I just fell. Sorry. It is nothing.”
“Just fell, hm?” She slid into Romanian, brows raising. They then furrowed, greater worry growing past the anxiety-fueled anger. “Gregory, were you crying?”
“No!” He shot to his feet with a glare. “No, I wasn’t!”
She frowned harder. “Well, alright, but if something’s wrong-”
“Nothing is, nothing is!” Hands flapping furiously, he shood her toward the door. “I am busy, mm, practicing…mm…practicing monster hunting! Yes!” Even those words made his belly twist to think of what he could be. “Very important! Out, out!”
“What? Greg- ugh, this is an overreaction.” Now she looked annoyed, stopping in the hallway with her hands on her hips. “What’s gotten into you? Are you doing something you’re not supposed to or something? Just because Freddy and Father aren’t home doesn’t mean you can disobey rules. I’m looking after you, and I’m going to do it well.”
“No I’m not! I just- go away!” He slammed the door, then relocked it, exasperated she’d even gotten inside in the first place. Biting his lip, he let his forehead fall against it. Behind it, he could hear Vanessa’s retreating steps and voice.
“Fine, mope or do whatever chaotic nonsense you are. Father can deal with it when he gets back.”
Gregory melted against the wood with a shuddering sigh. I guess he will. I guess I have to tell him that…I’m…
Sorrow and panic swirled back into something he couldn’t name, but it was firm and fiery, and had him returning to that dreaded wall. Finger to fang, he eyed it up and down, then shook his head harder. No. No, I will keep testing. Besides, I know I am not evil! I can figure this out!
Yet, as he tried to run the wall again (failing, and then the second time succeeding, to his horror), he couldn’t shake the shame or fear. On top of that, a deep urge repeatedly tugged at him. Though he feared telling Cassidy about this, at the same time, the uncertainty had been bothering Gregory for weeks; over a month now, maybe.
Perhaps…it really was time to tell him…
Gregory spent the remaining time waiting in horrid, stressful activity. Attempts to walk or run up the wall were almost always successful, even if he lost it by the time he reached the ceiling. He made sure to pile pillows to save him from the pain of the falls, but it still caused pain and had Vanessa suspiciously poking her head in now and then. It hurt to hide it; he knew it also made her ‘sister radar’ go off harder each time, but he couldn’t choke out the explanation to her. Perhaps it would help with bringing it to Taică later, but no. No, he couldn’t say. Not yet. He didn’t know if he could even get it out when Cassidy returned, but slowly, he realized he would have to.
So, eventually, when the monster hunter returned, the time had come.
By then Gregory had taken to sitting on his bed doing nothing, head low and hands clasped while his mind ran through a hundred different ways he could tell his tată. Downstairs, he heard the creak and slam of a door. His head shot up, and at once, his stomach twisted harder. Throat tightening, he stood. The floor swayed, and he swore he was about to puke, each nauseating churn fueled by deep, bone-rattling terror and anxiety.
It has to all be in my head; has to all be in my head…
Yet here he was, numbly walking out of his room, down the corridor, and then the stairs, with the sole purpose of telling his beloved tată something he’d kept for too long. There were no excuses at this point. Whether full vampire or not, Gregory knew it was true. No hiding it.
He wanted to sink into the floor the moment he entered the living room. There stood Cassidy and Vanessa, the latter speaking to him in a low, anxious tone. She stopped at his approach, then turned. To his surprise, she didn’t look annoyed anymore, simply concerned.
“Gregory.” She gave a tight smile. “Are you finally done with your racket upstairs?”
Gregory’s tongue tied, and he just stared. Everything spun; his stomach and mind were a whirlwind, and he wanted to do anything but speak. Running away sounded far more favorable, but he stayed rooted to the spot. His eyes locked onto Cassidy when he spoke, the man brushing back his pale blond braid as he said, “Vanessa seems worried for you. Is there a chaotic project you have to tell me about?” His lips curled into a small smile, usual stern or stoic expression lighting with fatherly fondness Gregory knew well. This time, it just made him sicker. He knew in a few seconds he could shatter that love.
Nothing felt real as Gregory squeezed his eyes and fists, head dropping as he forced, “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!”
“Gregory?” Vanessa’s voice rose with an increase in worry.
He heard Cassidy’s solid steps growing closer, but Gregory didn’t let him speak, blurting, “I have fangs! I can run up walls! I am pale! I…I think…I-I think-” His voice crumpled and shoulders dropped, and he whispered, “I think I am a vampire.”
Silence fell. Suffocating. Sudden and horrible.
He didn’t dare open his eyes, stuck standing defeated, standing like the weight of the world was crushing him.
He leaned forward…lower…lower…
Two hands suddenly touched his shoulders, stopping him from falling over. The next words he heard he did not expect, spoken by Cassidy in a gentle, low voice.
“I know you are, inimioară.”
Time stopped.
Gregory’s eyes opened, staring at the floor, then at his father’s face. He was crouched before him, hands keeping the boy grounded, face soft yet firm, a bit unreadable. But kind and knowing.
The term of endearment registered as wrong to Gregory. How could be talking and looking at him so warmly? So lovingly?
But, most importantly…
Gregory stammered and struggled, “Y-you…you know?”