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Later, after Dracula is dead, when they're slowly heading down the stairs together with the weariness of three bruised and broken bodies, Trevor's foot slips. With a curse, he throws his hands out to save himself from cracking his head on the steps--only for his palms to meet air as a thin arm braces across his chest with the strength of a tree trunk. He coughs out another curse and a mouthful of blood as Alucard jostles several undoubtedly cracked ribs. Alucard eyes the blood splatter.
"I think it's time I showed you to the medical room." He looks over to Sypha; though still on her feet, she's clearly faring no better than the man struggling to get out of his arms even as he bleeds all over the steps. Alucard recalls the sound of human bodies crashing into walls, and knows that couldn't have all been Trevor.
"Please," says Sypha, smiling weakly.
"As long as you don't try to carry me there." Trevor wipes his mouth as he finds his balance and Alucard lets him go, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He doesn't shrug it off.
"This way," Alucard says, and after Sypha takes his proffered arm, they trudge as one tired form up the staircase.
They're silent on the way, and Trevor finds himself grateful; now that the adrenaline rush of the fight has passed, the countless bruises, aches, and pains from overworked muscles and blunt force, vampire-induced trauma has really caught up with him. He doesn't know if he has the energy for snarky bullshit. No matter how enjoyable it is to trade snarky bullshit with the man currently gripping his shoulder like Trevor will run away if he lets go--and it is extremely enjoyable. He looks up at Alucard, and suppresses a snort. Somewhere between killing his father and now, he's clearly taken the time to comb out his hair and wash the dirt from his face. Stupid perfect vampire prince. Of course that would be his first priority after a fight. Beyond the bruises already showing up on his stupid perfect angular cheekbones, he looks pristine; still holding himself with his usual poise too, like he hasn't spent an hour being thrown through every other wall and bodyslammed by 8 feet of vampiric brick shithouse.
"I fear he's suffered some brain damage," Alucard comments, eyes still fixed forward down the hallway.
"What, more than he had before?" Sypha asks.
"That depends. Did he stare this much before the fight?"
"I am not staring." Trevor looks away pointedly. If he's turned away far enough for both of them to miss the flush rising in his cheeks, it's purely coincidence.
Alucard laughs quietly.
By the time Alucard steers them to the nearest room stocked with medical supplies, Sypha can feel herself slowing down. Each step is agony, her joints grinding in complaint, every bump and bruise making themselves known. Dracula had been... more physically powerful than she'd expected, even after seeing how easily Alucard threw aside chunks of rubble with one hand like a child throwing a fistful of grass, and she can feel every time he tossed her bodily with the force of a hundred horses in the searing pains that shoot across her body with every movement.
Still, despite the injuries, and the fatigue settling over her like a blanket of fog, her mind is racing. For the first time in many years, she feels wonderfully alive. The fight was incredible. Even before they faced Dracula himself, she had found herself using magic in ways she'd never expected, never planned for. In the heat of the moment, she had known exactly what to do. Her hands tighten on Alucard's arm as the memory of magic sparks through her fingers. He looks down at her with that thin ghost of a smile as they finally step into the room.
It's a relatively small, clean room. The walls are lined with shelves and cabinets and sinks, and one a large window to let in the sun. In a corner there's a wheeled cot, onto which Alucard dumps his two humans. Trevor goes down with a grunt, and the cot is wide enough for him to lay across it on his back, legs dangling. As much as Sypha wants to close her eyes, the prospect of learning more about this forgotten medicine battles out her fatigue, so she watches Alucard sweep around the room to rifle through jars of powders, liquid, dried leaves. In some drawers he finds several packs of clean bandages wrapped in waxed paper, from another he pulls a leather bundle, and from a glass-faced cupboard he retrieves a thick, well used book. He throws a glance at Sypha's shoulder, the cauterised wounds still fresh and shiny, and at a now upright Trevor, who is pressing a thumb to his cheek as he shifts his jaw. Alucard sighs and, after setting out a mortar and pestle, washes his hands in a nearby sink.
"Let's see," he says, approaching Trevor.
Trevor leans away as Alucard reaches for his face. "What? You said your mother was a doctor, not a dentist."
"Teeth are part of the body," says Alucard. "I believe we have some medical picture books you're welcome to read if you're unfamiliar."
"Very funny, ass-hey!" Trevor exclaims in indignation as Alucard captures his jaw in one hand and shoves a thumb between his lips to anchor it open. Trevor tries half-heartedly to jerk away, but of course Alucard's grip is iron. Cool like iron, too, but not the corpse-cold he expects. He is half human. It's easy to forget.
Alucard's other hand gets involved, widening his jaw so he can inspect the presumed source of the blood currently coagulating on his staircase. "Hm."
Sypha sits up and joins him in peering into Trevor's mouth. He glares at them both. Alucard reaches in with a delicate finger and prods one of his molars, making him grunt softly. Sypha watches blood well up around the gums and winces. "Will he lose it?" she asks.
Alucard tugs Trevor's head down so Sypha can see easier. "No," he says, "there's some bleeding, but it's mostly subsided. These teeth here are loose," he observes, and Trevor can feel him brushing over more of his molars, pointing them out to an interested Sypha, "but not so badly that they won't heal. His jaw will be swollen tomorrow, though unfortunately not enough to stop him from talking, but the mouth heals quickly." Alucard pokes and prods a little more than Trevor thinks is strictly necessary, before finally letting him have his head back. He looks at Sypha. "I'll buy him for four coins."
"Six."
"Five," he says, heading back to the sink to wash his hands again.
"Six," she insists. "Like you said, he will heal quickly. He'll be ready to do all of your manual labour in no time."
Alucard chuckles. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Speaker, but I'm afraid I can only go as high as five. Considering his mental faculties."
"Oh, fuck you both," Trevor grumbles, still rubbing his jaw.
Alucard and Sypha laugh again. Sypha's is the only one with any heart in it, but Alucard hopes the other two don't notice. He dries his hands and returns to the mortar and pestle.
"What is that?" Sypha asks, hopping off the bed to get a closer look.
He watches her approach from the corner of his eye. "Cauterizing the wound to buy time during the fight was the right decision, but we should treat that burn as soon as possible. Here," he says, pointing out a passage from the open book on the counter. "It will help with the pain, and disinfect the burn." He adds a pinch of some pale pink powder. "And help with the bruising. Now go sit back down," he says gently, shooing her away. "Take the book. Go teach Trevor how to read."
"I'll kick your ass Alucard," Trevor says without sitting up.
Sypha takes the book and smacks Alucard in the shoulder with it. "If he can read, that will raise the price." She flips through the pages. "You don't need this?"
"It's almost finished. I'll need you to look up a few treatments in a moment, but feel free to read through for now."
Sypha returns to the cot and hops up, jostling Trevor. He groans, cursing the years of neglect, heavy drinking, late nights, and bar fights he's put his body through. The fight with Dracula didn't help much either. Somehow, with Sypha pressed close to him and Alucard quietly working, he finds it in himself to fall asleep.
Later, once they have been stitched and bandaged and mended and Alucard's hands have been washed of their blood, they have a conversation by the front door. Alucard had a plan, before, to return to his vault. Return to sleep. But he can't, not with the castle open to the world like this. He tells them of his new intent: to make his father's castle his grave. Trevor has something else in mind.
"Up here, your father's collected knowledge," says Trevor, "down there, the collected knowledge of my ancestors. Your inheritance, and mine. As above, so below."
Alucard watches him. A beat. "I'm listening."
Trevor steps over to place a warm, warm hand on his shoulder, gesturing towards the doors through which the castle's new permanent surroundings can be seen. "Behold, you sulky half-vampire bastard," he says, stepping back from Alucard and giving a mocking bow, "I bequeath you the Belmont hold. Make that, and the castle, your home, not your grave." He stands up straight again, and smiles at him.
Alucard blinks at him, lost. "You're... giving me your home?"
"It's yours," Trevor says."My childhood home and your childhood home... We can protect it. Make something out of it. Something better than a pile of ruins and a symbol of terror." He looks back to Alucard, smiling at him once more. Maybe this warm feeling bubbling in his chest is contagious; maybe if he smiles at Alucard enough, he'll smile back. Anything to get that fragile, haunted expression off his face. "And when Sypha and I are old and retired, you will be its last defender."
Shocked into speaking, hopeful at the notion they might stay, Alucard manages, more out of habit than anything else, "You expect to survive to old age?"
"When I am retired, then," Sypha says, stepping lightly over to Trevor to rest a hand on his shoulder. "We can go pick out a nice burial plot for him nearby." She grins at Alucard.
He finally flashes a wan smile of his own, and if Trevor wasn't so distracted by the glint on his sharp teeth, he might have noticed that the mirth doesn't reach Alucard's eyes.
Sypha does.
"Okay, alright," Trevor grumbles, pushing Sypha's hand away. His momentary annoyance fades quickly in the face of another wry grin. Alucard doesn't think he's ever seen the man smile this much.
"But," says Alucard, afraid to ask, the hope that they won't simply abandon him in this huge, empty casket of a castle thin and delicate, like moth wings, "you said... we?"
Trevor nods, and looks to her. "Sypha and I were talking, and we were thinking--"
"We were thinking we could stay for a while!" Sypha interrupts. "There is so much to be learned, in both the Belmont hold and your father's libraries. I want to meet with my caravan soon, of course, but while we are here, and fixing up the damage to your castle, I want to memorise as much as I can to share with them." She looks at Alucard with a serious expression. When she's focused like this, her eyes turn bright and hard, the dark brown reflecting fire. "There is so much lost knowledge here that must be remembered. Especially now."
Trevor and Sypha both have their focus on him now, expectant and excited. Alucard is still for a moment, watching the two humans he knows so well and yet hardly knows at all, before smiling.
Again, Sypha notices that his eyes are hollow.
He had been so certain they would leave. But... they want to stay. With him. How could he refuse? Whatever propelled him to joke before has already faded. He's so tired. His body doesn't feel quite his own. So he smiles, thin but genuine, his first real smile since... it happened, and he nods.
His two humans visibly relax; he doesn't know why they were so concerned that he would say no, or why they thought he needed to grant them permission in the first place. But he can think more on that later. For now, he needs to--
"So, what now?" Trevor asks, looking around.
Alucard tilts his head at him. "What now?" he echoes.
"What should we do first?"
"I..." begins Sypha, "feel gross. I want a bath." She looks back up the stairs, to that yawning cavern of a hall beyond the tall, imposing throne. "I assume the castle has something for that?"
Alucard nods again. "We have several rooms for bathing. But you need to keep those bandages dry," he says, "at least for another few hours. Then we can all bathe, and I'll reapply them, since I'll need to do that anyway." He looks away from them. "I'm not sure how much food we have here, but I doubt there's anything fresh. Would you two mind going out to hunt?" He tries to keep the desperation from his voice, tries to make it sound like a casual idea, and not something he needs like air. "I'll find a kitchen that hasn't been destroyed, and start a meal for us." Please. Please, please please, let them leave for just a short while. Long enough for him to collapse and put himself back together before they return.
"Sure," says Sypha, hard eyes on his. He's sure she can see right through him. "C'mon, Treffy." She pulls a slightly confused Trevor away, watching Alucard over her shoulder. He stands there, able to do little else, until they're beyond the doors and can't watch the way he falls to his knees in the dust of a dozen vampires and folds his face into shaking hands.
But, okay. Not here. He can hold himself together just a little longer. Long enough to get somewhere they won't see him if they come back sooner than expected.
He doesn't remember the stumbling journey to the room, doesn't remember picking up the fallen chair until he has the cold wood in his hands. Distantly, he registers how silly it is to upright a chair just for him to collapse into, but his fingers shift it and his
legs shift himself until he's sitting.
And there, he finally, finally, falls apart.
"Here," says Sypha, holding out a chunk of ice. Trevor looks at her. She presses it into his hands. "For your face?"
"Oh," he says. "Thanks." He stares at it for a second, before his brain clicks into gear and he wraps the ice in some of the spare bandages he pocketed earlier. As he presses it to his cheek, Sypha scans the ground for animal tracks.
"So," she starts, and Trevor braces. "Are you sure you want to stay? Wallachia is still overrun with monsters, and its people need help defending themselves. We could go around, teach them what we know. And," she adds, "I really want to practise my magic more on some hellish creatures--that fight was incredible! I was incredible!"
He smiles, watching her eyes light up. "You are incredible. I can't argue that. But no. I've been away from home for too long. I might as well try to rebuild the hold before leaving again. I didn't get the chance to last time I was here." Sypha purses her lips and nods. "Plus, we can't just leave him," he says, jerking his head back towards the castle and its lone inhabitant.
"Trevor Belmont, don't tell me you actually care about someone's wellbeing?"
He snorts. "I'm just saying, I know from experience what he'll do if we leave him alone after this."
Her brow furrows. "What?"
"Something bloody stupid."