Work Text:
His mother had always told him he had a tender heart. His father had warned him to keep it hidden. Both had agreed that letting the right person in was a miracle that could change your life. Love could pull the stars from the sky and place them under your skin to dance with shining brilliance. Love could sail ships of self-discovery among storms of emotion and offer shelter in coves of peace so profound that you would weep from relief. Love was what his parents had.
And love will burn the world down, Alucard thought. Tear families apart and impale babies on spikes in a desperate effort to have the external world suffer like your internal one. It made him sick to see what his father had done. Done in the name of his mother. Done for the love that had brought his son forth.
It made Alucard an unwilling accomplice, and it made Lisa one too.
And so I will make it end for both of us, he thought. Behind the ruined tissue of his scar, the heart that had turned into a wild beast clawed up to his throat. I will bring the end to someone who has the power, wisdom and love to shape the future. And everything that once was, everything that defined who I am, where I am from, and those I have loved, will be gone.
“Don’t you think so?” Sypha asked Trevor loudly. It interrupted the gloomy march of his thoughts for only a moment, and Alucard peeked at them through the strands of his hair.
The duo were chattering in the front of the wagon while he rode in the back. The physical distance had made it easier to stay on the fringe of the friendship they were forming. It was one that he watched with wistfulness and envy, but Alucard knew it was better that he remained alone. The journey he was on was worlds apart from theirs.
Your life is worlds apart from anyone, he reminded himself, looking away again. You don’t belong to human or vampire society, and you don’t even have a place in your father’s home.
But that didn’t stop the dhampir from coveting a connection with someone. That didn’t stop him from watching Trevor and Sypha, and wondering when he might have something like what was growing between them.
Alucard was always careful not to let them see him looking. It would only prompt questions as to what he was looking at. Alucard could lie but he always felt like Sypha knew when he was. She seemed to see things inside him that he should have been able to hide and he wouldn’t risk Belmont’s ridicule if he told the truth.
What are you looking at? he imagined her asking.
The way the sunlight runs flaming fingers through your hair, he pretended to tell her. How it’s like your magic simmering in a constant glow.
It was telling that he didn’t know what she would say in response. Not that it mattered; Alucard would never say such fanciful and foolish words. Would never see her look at him with surprise and… What? What would he see? What would she say? Would she say his name? Willow branches always skittered down his spine when she said his name with that pretty little curl at the end of it.
He felt his lips twist in a tiny sneer. Trevor tossed his name out like it was a challenge to meet. But Sypha… The sneer smoothed into a soft smile. Sypha said ‘Alucard,’ like it was a favored friend she hadn’t seen in a long time. He was perplexed as to why it would make him smile, why it cast long sunbeams into the darkness weighing on his chest.
Trevor laughed and Sypha said something in that cheeky, holier-than-though way she had. Both sounds should have been annoying. But it wasn’t. It was a touch bewildering and actually fairly disturbing that both of their voices were soothing to him, if not downright enjoyable. Was it a normal reaction after so much solitary rest? It would be nice to assume it was, but the townspeople in Gresit had not evoked this sense of happiness.
Whatever this was, it was different.
Their vocalizations had kept the blonde company even as he sat apart. Alucard didn’t even need to know the words; the duo’s voices danced together in a slow, comfortable sway that matched his heart in every beat. It was as though the conversation refused to acknowledge the physical distance of their bodies. It felt like they were extending a hand to hold space for him, no matter how long he was silent.
The blonde shook his head slowly. He didn’t know why these thoughts came to him, and knew it couldn’t matter even if he did. The task before him commanded all his focus and energy, and there must not be anything else. But even if things were different, he couldn’t possibly tell either of his companions. He wouldn’t know where to start and it felt… unfair, somehow. It was enough that they had joined him when he’d needed it most, and Alucard was grateful to have help with his hideous task. Even if he felt alone in it.
Not completely alone, he thought with scrupulous honesty. It was impossible to feel total isolation in the whirling colors of Sypha, and steady pulse of Trevor. The hesitancy of newness was gone almost immediately, he thought. Even if the tension remained. Some of it could be explained by the unfamiliarity between the trio. It certainly was heightened by the irony of Dracula’s son joining a Belmont. A smile ghosted on the dhampir’s mouth.
Eat shit and die.
Yes, fuck you.
While there seemed to be a touch more camaraderie between them after they’d teased Sypha back in Gresit, it hadn’t gone unnoticed to him that Trevor immediately took the seat beside her. And kept it through Pitesti and past Argeș. It had neatly divided the trio right when he’d started to feel included, and while Alucard accepted it, it still stung.
Trevor claimed it because he knows he’s welcome, Alucard thought with a heavy heart. He has something to say that isn’t wretchedly miserable. He isn’t carrying the weight of what this all means. The blonde had tried to explain over the campfire. He’d tried to communicate just what the death of Dracula would mean to the world, but he knew he’d failed. He supposed it didn’t really matter; neither one of them could possibly understand.
The keen intelligence in Sypha’s eyes burned holes through that notion. Alright, he thought with honest admiration. She at least had an inkling. Trevor had scoffed at the story of his parents, but Sypha had grasped what his mother had been trying to do almost right away.
She was turning him.
It was a funny choice of words given Dracula’s vampiric nature, but Sypha’s face had been filled with appreciation and astonishment. It was beautiful, really, watching understanding light upon her features. It took her normally pretty face and transformed it into something breathtaking. Alucard stifled his sigh.
More unhelpful thoughts, he berated himself. That’s not the point.
The point was that Sypha had grasped the concept quickly, even as Trevor mocked the whole idea. Alucard rolled his eyes, the familiar irritation rising up. The brunette seemed to take great pleasure in provoking him whenever possible. It was particularly annoying because the Belmont Alucard had fought in his sleeping quarters was a brilliant opponent; sly, clever and fearless. And the man who kept harassing Alucard with ‘humor,’ was a rude buffoon with excellent timing.
Alucard scowled. It was entirely unfair. The blonde refused to consider that Trevor’s humor could be appealing, despite the giggles that he’d lured from Sypha. It was a bittersweet irony that the dhampire revelled in the sound every time Trevor enticed it. Sypha’s laugh was such a pretty sound, innocently joyful with a rounded buoyancy that seemed to float like the bubbles inside one of Vlad’s experiments.
Alucard was foolishly proud of the few chuckles that he had managed to coax from her, watching how her cheeks rounded with amusement and the adorable scrunch of her nose as it drew up. It was an added incentive that she was laughing at Trevor with him. And why shouldn’t she? Alucard wondered. The man is absurd. If it wasn’t for the fighting prowess he’d witnessed, he might rethink this entire—.
“Oi, sulky bastard! She’s talkin’ to you!”
Offended pride immediately bloomed in his chest. The Belmont was so utterly devoid of manners, it was truly appalling. With measured nonchalance, Alucard turned toward them, arching one eyebrow. Trevor was looking back at him with a quizzical expression.
“Despite your charming salutation,” he said dryly. “I regret to inform you that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Trevor rolled his eyes and huffed. Sypha passed him the reins. “Stop it Trevor; it’s perfectly reasonable that he wasn’t listening. Our backs were to him, after all.” Her deference snuggled into Alucard’s chest like a warm kitten.
She really is so lovely, isn’t she? he thought affectionately. Considerate, clever, beautiful…
The brunette scoffed, throwing one hand up in the air dramatically and Alucard narrowed his eyes, waiting for the insult. “Man has supernatural hearing, Sypha, we could have been standing 100 feet—!”
“Hush,” she said firmly and Trevor’s grumbling quieted. It might have been small of Alucard, but it was pure pleasure to see her put Trevor in his place. The redhead shifted in her seat until she could swing her legs over the side of the frame and plant them on the wagon bed.
“Now Alucard,” she said, her voice gentling.
She talked to them differently. Sometimes it was really subtle and sometimes it wasn’t. The way she spoke to Trevor was very no-nonsense and almost bossy, but the dhampir noticed that her intonation was often just a touch softer with him, as though she didn’t want to offend him. Alucard was torn between believing it was because she cared about his feelings, and suspecting it was because she was less comfortable with him. He knew which he wanted it to be but there was no place for that, just as there was no place for him with her.
“My apologies,” he said truthfully. “I missed your question.”
“It’s alright,” she said with a little shrug. The cowl of her Speakers cloak rose like a little cup around her face, framing the sparkling eyes and pixie features affectionately. “Although, I hope you know that you’re welcome to join the conversation anytime.”
Alucard ignored the little flare of hope from her words. He yearned to believe she did want his company but why would she? She is being polite, that’s all, he reminded himself. They’ve gone hours without speaking to you before this.
“Of course,” he lied smoothly. “I’ve just been thinking about what awaits us at the Hold.”
“That’s actually what we were just discussing,” Sypha agreed. “I was suggesting that we might wish to rest within the next few hours, and then carry on in the cover of night. With the major cities behind us it’s unlikely that we would encounter more night creatures, but it’s not impossible. So it’s probably best if we are rested before we carry on.”
It depends on what we find in the Hold, he thought. If there’s even anything left of it. Father may even know of it, and seek to destroy the threat. Better that we press on.
“I hate to disagree,” Alucard began gently and Sypha grinned. It stopped him short; her dazzling vibrancy momentarily rendering him mute. Something inside his chest shifted, falling up against the heavy stones of his heart and sticking fingers into the cracks.
“Then don’t,” she teased, patting his shoulder. “Accept my brilliance and wisdom with grace and humility.”
“He’s vampire royalty, Sypha,” Trevor drawled. “Humility doesn’t come with the title, but being a right prick does.”
Stinging indignation jarred his tongue free and Alucard drew up on his knees with a quickness that had Sypha widening her eyes. “Prick this,” Alucard hissed and extended his index claw, jabbing the Belmont right in his stupid ass.
It was enormously satisfying to hear the startled yelp that accompanied Trevor’s upright bolt. By the time the man had turned to glare at him, the blonde was seated demurely in front of Sypha and well out of arm’s reach.
“What the fuck, Alucard!” Trevor roared furiously, simultaneously rubbing his butt and trying to hold the spooked horses.
“You were saying?” Alucard asked loftily. “I believe you were talking about your tiny prick.”
“Why I ought to—!” Trevor snarled, reaching toward one of the belts on his chest and the trio of silver daggers he kept there.
Alucard felt his temper rise alongside Trevor’s hand and hissed in warning. His claws emerged as he held up his index finger and shook it warningly. If Trevor thinks I will allow him to–!
“If you two are going to kill each other, at least get out of my wagon!” Sypha thundered irritably, slapping one hand on his chest to hold him back, and turning toward Trevor. “I'll not have it destroyed because of your tantrums!”
Alucard watched the mutinous glare in Belmont's eyes shift as his gaze fell to the magician. “He started it!” Trevor grumbled. “Damn clawbaby.” He set his jaw and whirled around to gingerly find his seat.
Clawbaby?! Alucard’s growl had Sypha turning back toward him, eyes narrowed and lips pursued.
“Alucard,” she said. There was a touch of reproval in her tone that made him think fleetingly of his mother.
“Runty prick,” Alucard muttered, bringing his gaze back to Sypha. Her hand was still on his chest, the warm shape radiating a prickling vibration that practically sang against his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Trevor give him the finger over his shoulder. Sypha patted his chest lightly and retaliation died immediately.
“Just ignore him,” she said, offering him a slight smile. The tip of her index finger touched his bare skin. Like a spell whirling out from her fingertips, it spread warmth through cool flesh and crept spirals of awareness under his skin. Then her hand lifted, withdrawing, and leaving him cold again.
“I’ve officially decided,” she said with that assurance that was both annoying and yet somehow also charming. “I think we’d all feel safer once we are inside the Hold, and we could take a more substantive rest then.”
Trevor made a noise of disagreement and Alucard smiled. She took my side, he thought triumphantly. It was a short-lived victory; she turned away, clearly returning to the front of the wagon to sit beside Trevor. He watched her go and exhaled softly.
It was for the best, really, he told himself as he too turned away and moved back to the end of the wagon. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them; didn’t want to wonder about the weird comfort of their company, or why he should care that there was no room for him on the wagon seat.
There is no room for anything but stopping Father, he reminded himself. They will move on from this and everything that mattered will be gone.
For Trevor, this is nothing more than another act of heroism, and one he’d been badgered into by Sypha. For Sypha, this was a rebalance of the world, throwing off an oppressive evil. It wasn’t something Alucard would look back on with anything but grief. This was a systematic dismantling of everything that ever meant anything to him. It took everything he had not to just sit down in the dust and weep until there was nothing left.
“There. That’s my tree.”
He was roused from deep contemplation because he heard the change in Trevor’s voice. The usual timbre of weariness and reluctance had a warm awareness that poked into Alucard’s thoughts. The dhampir had heard exasperation, suspicion, frustration and scorn from Trevor but he had never heard this. His voice held sentiment, fondness and a softness that was shocking, yet appealing.
Alucard opened his eyes and looked across the moonlit path. The endless forest tracked over the hilly land, shadow and light casting a sway as though the trees were dancing. He did not look back at the duo at the front of the wagon, but focused on what was actually being said.
There was a very sarcastic voice that was asking him why he remotely cared what the Belmont sounded like, or how he felt. I don’t care, not really, he assured himself. I’m just…surprised is all. Bored of all this travelling, and it’s something to think about that isn’t depressing.
“I used to play in that tree,” Trevor continued. “We’re nearly at the house.” He rushed through the last sentence, as though it were an afterthought. As though the tree meant more than the house.
“It’s hard to imagine you playing,” Sypha said hesitantly. Alucard could hear the smile in her voice. It was a light tease but he was sure she’d caught Trevor’s tone as well.
Maybe it startled her too, he reflected. Not just the idea of Trevor as a playful child but as someone who could be sentimental or nostalgic for past days. Alucard tried to imagine a tiny Belmont running around with a wooden sword, banging on everything and taking swipes at the legs of the adults. It was a surprise to feel the tug of a smile on his lips.
More like staggering around with a water skein and yelling for ale, sarcasm sneered. Somehow that was even funnier and made him yearn to know more about young Trevor. What would he have been like? How had he changed?
“Yeah?” Trevor scoffed lightly, clearly amused. “I suppose so. It was everything, that tree. It was my house, my boat, and my fort.”
Images popped up. A shaggy-haired, dirty little boy scaling branches to yell about land ho!, or the incoming invaders who must be kept at bay. But what about the house he’d made? What did that little boy do in the house?
The abrupt memory tumbled out like a box from a closet and was one that held such bittersweet emotion Alucard actually stopped breathing.
“What are you doing under there?”
The tall, gleaming boots stepped closer, the sweep of his cape a soft rustle on the pile of the carpet. Alucard stilled, eyes darting out anxiously past the carved legs of the table, and into the gleaming light of the room.
“I know you’re under there, son.” Vlad’s tone was gentle but the blonde also knew that he wasn’t supposed to have taken several of the items currently inhabiting the space he was playing in. At seven years old, he knew the rules.
“Alucard,” the low rumble inquired again. “What are you doing?”
Alucard hung his head and sighed. “Coming, Father,” he whispered. He started to crawl forward when he saw the massive cape drop in a crumple to the carpet. Heart hammering, the boy froze. Then the long legs bent, knees settling onto the floor and wide hands with neat claws spread out on the plush pile.
By the time his father’s bearded face appeared, Alucard was gaping, heart beating fast and hard. “Father?!” he asked incredulously, surveying the calmly smiling face.
“May I come in?” Vlad asked graciously. His large frame blocked almost all the light filtering between the two desk legs and Alucard stifled his giggle. It was going to be a tight squeeze but…
“Yes, sir. Please, do come in,” Alucard said eagerly, shuffling back into the space he thought of as his laboratory. It held two beakers and a mirror glass. A small pile of collected foliage was carefully arranged on a dining tray beside it.
“Why thank you for such a kind invitation,” his father said, hunkering down to crawl into the tight space. “I believe I shall.”
In the end, Vlad could only crouch with his torso inside and his legs out, but it was enough. “What a lovely fort you have here,” Vlad said, eyes roaming the space. Pride swelled in Alucard’s chest.
“It is my home, actually,” the boy corrected softly. “I’m building my home.”
“Ah, of course, please excuse me,” his father agreed. “I hadn’t looked closely enough. It’s obviously not a fort, now that I have a good view.”
“Would you like a tour?” Alucard offered it ceremoniously.
“That would be wonderful,” his father agreed.
The manners that his parents had diligently trained him in, nudged. “May I take your…,” he eyed the cape on the carpet. “Would you care for a drink?” he quickly amended. “I have many options.”
“Ah, tea, I should think,” Vlad said with a broad smile of approval. “Thank you kindly.” Happiness squeezed the boy’s throat with joyful fingers. He’d gotten the etiquette right, and his father was pleased.
Alucard crawled over the kitchen, which consisted of a pitcher of water, three plates and three mugs. He carefully poured the ‘tea’ into a mug. One long arm reached out for it and accepted it with formal gravity.
“Let’s start in the…,” he began, and realized Vlad was looking over the boy’s shoulder. He turned and saw the reed basket he’d upended on its side at the far end of the table. There was one lone stuffed bear facing the inside wall of the basket.
“That’s my dungeon,” Alucard explained, looking at the furry lump. “For when my subjects need a time out.”
He missed the swift sparkle of nonplussed humor on his father’s face. By the time he looked back to Vlad, there was only somber understanding in the slow nod. “Very wise,” his father said agreeably. “Sometimes a time out is what’s called for.”
The hard thumb of emotion pressed against his jugular and was mirrored in Trevor’s voice. It brought Alucard back to the present and he carefully took a deep breath.
“Anything I wanted it to be,” Trevor said with soft remembrance.
A haven when the world was too big, Alucard immediately agreed. A place that was yours outside of your family.
He wondered if Trevor ever felt the weight of being a Belmont like he did being a Tepes. If, and when, he would have realized that there was no escape from it. If the helplessness of that reality ever got tangled up with the good; the love and blessings that came from the name that was the last connection to your parents.
As they passed it, Alucard looked at the hollowed, gnarled form that held memory shimmering like a lure in the gloom. His eyes confirmed a tree long dead but the questions and curiosity persisted.
These thoughts do not help you, Alucard warned himself. There is nothing common between you and Belmont but the wish to end this horrid nightmare my family has brought to the world. To think otherwise is foolish to the extreme.
Trevor put his arm on the back of the seat and used it to turn. From the corner of his eye, Alucard could see the play of emotion on his face. “Goodnight tree,” the warrior said, staring after it.
But not goodbye, Alucard thought and wondered why. Perhaps it just hurt too much, or maybe Trevor intended to return here someday and rebuild. Whatever the reason, the ‘goodnight’ felt right. Goodnight tree, Alucard silently echoed.
“Goodnight tree,” Sypha whispered after a moment. There was a sadness in her voice, as though she understood everything both men felt and was offering them a soft kiss.
How could she understand what you aren’t sharing? he thought with a pang. If she’s empathizing with anything, it’s with Trevor’s emotions. She’s sharing an understanding of his history. After all, isn’t that how someone gets to know a person better? You share history and ask questions and before you know it, you’re friends.
I can’t do that, pride declared resolutely. I won’t do that. I’ve tried to explain to them what this means, who my parents were. Trevor spat in my face.
But Sypha didn’t, his heart whispered. She didn’t joke or tease. She listened and she understood. Alucard fought against the tender feeling that stretched like warm rays inside his chest, and then the redhead spoke.
“I admit, I’m surprised that I understand,” Sypha said quietly. Alucard held his breath, not wanting to miss a word. “I shouldn’t understand; Speakers are always moving, you know.”
“Aye,” Trevor murmured encouragingly.
“But my ‘tree’ was my Grandfather’s wagon,” she continued. “It was my home as much as it was my palace, my hospital, my school.”
Alucard felt his smile creep up. He could absolutely imagine small, wide-eyed and adamant Sypha instructing her ‘students’ to pay attention in class. Would she have used bundles of goods for their bodies, or would she have had any toys to use? Did her students become her patients too? Would she have wrapped bandages on all their wounds and ground up oak leaves to make a poultice to heal their fevers?
Abruptly he could see the translation of her childhood space into the home he had long ached to make. Rooms for healing, and learning, family and community. Spaces used to create a future that meant something for the children they might have, and those that would take up the mantle for justice when they were gone. Sypha would understand that home, he realized, floored by the revelation.
As a Speaker, knowledge, wisdom and education was central to her existence. It was something Alucard understood and believed in. In the same way the Speakers's life had been built around the preservation of knowledge and the dissemination of information, so too had Alucard’s. In the Tepes household, asking questions and discovering answers were as natural as breathing. Teaching was habitual, and reason, logic and science were as sacred as any religion. Sypha had taken it one step further, the one that his mother had tried to offer, and made it her life’s mission to serve. Speakers served the masses, alleviating misery through information, kindness, and instruction.
And she was persecuted for it, just as mother was, bitterness reminded him.
And just like mother, she didn’t allow that to stop her from continuing to try, admiration countered. No wonder you can’t help but admire her. Even Father had changed under her influence. Mother's grit, resolution and spirit would have given the world the best parts of my father. Now those same traits in Sypha will take the worst parts of him from the earth.
“It was everything I needed,” Sypha continued. “And the best place to play.” There was a softness in her words, as though she was reliving the memory instead of recalling it.
“Miss those days,” Trevor agreed, for once without the ambivalent inflection. “Simple."
Nothing is simple now, Alucard despondently thought. The wish that this camaraderie and connection could be kept was fighting hard against the dread for the task waiting at the end of this journey. And what my past was has been murdered by my father in honour of my mother. There can be no lovely future that rises from those ashes. This isn’t some fanciful jaunt to the fair and Sypha will never--
Sypha laughed and the sound broke through the misery. It twined around his heart like a bit of delicate lace and pulled tight. Almost against his will, Alucard turned to peek, catching the side of her cheek and the pretty curve of her lips. Don’t look, he told himself, even as his supernatural eyes caught the way the tones of her hair softened in the moonlight. This cannot be, Alucard.
But his heart wasn’t listening, too caught in the image of Sypha laughing, and the helpless, hopeless wish that her laugh could stay with him always.
---
How could I do this right
If I'm such a flight risk? I
Wanted to be something
You couldn't put down, but hey
It's wearing me out this time
I wanted to stay (So I figured), I tried (Sorry)
But you'll never leave me (I tried to leave)
You'll never leave me (I tried to leave)
You'll never leave me (I tried)
You'll never leave
If I'm already gone
I wanted to be done (Be somеthing)
I'm already (Gone, do you care?)
I'm alrеady (Now I wanted to be)
I wanted to be (Now I'm already)
But I’m already
-“Flight Risk,” Tommy Lefroy