Chapter Text
The days were long, but the nights were longer.
Endless pacing up and down the hallways offered no peace to his soul, finding no respite in the various rooms and passages torn asunder, debris still littering the floor. Glass laid strewn about the ground like ghosts, glinting in the moonlight as he wandered restlessly, searching for some sort of calm or clarity. But none came, no matter where he looked. His low, echoing footsteps rang like sirens in his ears, the silence screaming louder than any beast could, surpassing even the howls of a lonely young man with grief in his heart. There was no peace for him here.
He’d hardly slept at all through the nights, saving his tired moments for the midday when he could drift off briefly only when his body could go on no more. He had already realized that it wasn’t a sustainable way of living, but it was all he could do to survive.
There was nothing keeping Alucard in the castle anymore.
Empty hallways seemed less and less inviting as the days went on, and he couldn’t find comfort in their blaring silence any longer. Through years of his childhood he’d found peaceful respite in the enormity of the castle, always managing to find a new spot to be alone, where even his mother couldn’t think to find him. It was his haven, and he had loved its vast expanse, always the little explorer. The thought of it now did little more than bring a bittersweet smile to his face amid an otherwise morose expression he wore most of the time.
He tried to think of a reason to stay. Desperately. He conjured up endless thoughts of the good times—his mother chasing him around and around, his father’s roaring laughter echoing down the halls as he watched. But now, the memories burned in his eyes like tears. The laughter wasn’t there anymore, leaving no mark on the castle to be remembered by. The only thing Alucard could still see with his eyes was a scorched floor in his childhood bedroom amid crumbled walls and broken furniture where a part of him had died and bloody bedsheets where they’d killed the rest of him. There was no reason to stay. He had already nearly made up his mind before he’d pained himself with the memories, but indulged himself in self-pity anyway in one last ditch effort to find any attachment to what once was his home. But no matter what incentives he had to continue life at the castle, there were always two good reasons always on his mind to leave; two reasons that were decorously staked outside his front door.
He was certain that he couldn’t stay anymore. There was somewhere he needed to go. Someone he needed to find.
He wondered if the castle would be safe without him. He wondered, too, if he even really cared. He had promised to take care of both it and the Belmont hold and all of the knowledge therein, but this pain had never been part of the equation. He didn’t sign up for this. The ache in his heart had always been a sure thing, but the crippling fear he hadn’t anticipated, and with its grip growing tighter and tighter on his heart, his only solution was to go and risk whatever intrusions would occur while he was away. Though with his choice of lawn decoration, he figured that would likely not be a problem.
He had packed a bag before he knew it. Just a few essentials to get him on his way. He didn’t expect to be gone for too long, but he also knew he had quite a search ahead of him. But he was smart. He was ingenuitive. He would find his way.
Those three thoughts were the most positive he’d had in months about himself or anything else. He threw on his jacket and with only his bag, his fastened sword, and those three thoughts, he stepped out the door. He dared not turn his head to the side, keeping his eyes straight ahead, looking forward—looking only to the future as he left the past behind him.
He was fortunate enough to come upon a trader early on who was willing to part with a mare for much less than Alucard figured she was worth. He considered his bargain to be a good first sign that the trip would be successful, and though he didn’t ordinarily believe in signs and superstitions, he clung to this one like it was the only thing keeping him alive. It may well have been.
He eagerly set off to the nearest place he could think to pick up a trail, hoping desperately that someone would know something useful—anything at all, really. He had never been one for prayer in his life, but he couldn’t help but catch himself whispering quiet pleas under his breath, though he wasn’t sure to whom.
Please let them be safe… Please let them be alright…
******
It had gone on for so long already that the silent ride had begun to piss Trevor off more than he could explain in words, though explaining things in words was never his strong suit to begin with. Getting angry, however, was. And on this day, he was feeling particularly skilled.
“Will you say something already?” he shouted, reactively jerking the reins. “I feel like I’m being taken off to prison or some-fucking-thing.”
He watched Sypha as she languidly turned her head toward him, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the bench seat.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” she said evenly.
He nearly exploded, but caught himself with his mouth open, just as he was about to let loose a stream of abuses.
Don’t, he chastised himself internally.
He exhaled, feeling some of the heat fade away from his cheeks. He didn’t know what was coming over him.
She’s just hurting, he told himself. You are, too, you idiot.
Though he wasn’t very good at the feelings aspect of human communication, he could recognize when there were hurt feelings in the air. It felt like that was the case most of the time, recently.
Every day, there was a new group of monsters terrorizing a village, and every day, they’d quietly pass through in their wagon. Seldom did they fight anymore, save for the times when night creatures directly approached them. But it was never the same as it was before. The novelty of adventure had worn off and Trevor could tell it was weighing on Sypha. There was no more quipping. No more fun, strategic plays between them in battle. There was only hacking and slashing and burning and freezing and dying. The theatrics were over.
He could feel it, too. Especially the last few days, he’d noticed himself having far less energy than before and his brain felt as if it were hidden away in fog. His whole body ached. He’d almost find it funny if it wasn’t so strange, but he’d felt every brand and variety of depression there was to feel, but this one was new to him. Feeling it so deep in his bones was something he wasn’t used to. He made no mention of it to Sypha, though. He was used to feeling down, and even if these feelings were new to him, he knew he needed to be strong for her.
Trevor reached out, taking her hand in his, letting her squeeze it gently in her lap.
“Why won’t you say anything to me?”
She didn’t look at him. She just shifted her gaze from the road to the trees to the sky.
“I just don’t know what to say,” she said with a sigh. “I’m thinking.”
“What are you thinking?”
She let her head rest against the back of the bench, watching the clouds pass by.
“We should have never left.”
Trevor gave her hand a little squeeze. “I know.”
Finally, she brought herself to look at him. Her eyes were rimmed red, exhaustion and stress obviously taking its toll on her. She looked beaten down to her soul. It hurt Trevor to see her that way. Her usually bright and energetic self, ready for anything, was hiding away beneath this downtrodden girl who looked as though she’d never felt a drop of joy in her life, and it gave Trevor a pain deep in his chest to be unable to make her feel alright again.
“We can go back, you know,” he said, watching her expression for any sign of change. There wasn’t any.
“What makes you think he’d even have us back?”
“Of course he would. He’s our friend.”
“How do you know that?” she snapped. “We abandoned him.”
“We didn’t—“ Trevor stuttered a bit, unsure if he believed what he was saying. “We didn’t abandon him. He wanted to stay.”
“We should have fought harder for him to come with us.”
Trevor sighed. “I know…” he said. It was all he could think to say, and he knew it wasn’t enough. “He’s probably been so thrilled that we’re out of his hair that he’s forgotten about us by now. Probably having parties every night, the maniac,” he added, throwing out any encouraging words he could think of in the hopes that something might stick and make her feel better.
Her expression finally changed and, to his horror, her eyebrows knit together, her big doe-like eyes suddenly full of sad concern. “Why would you say that?”
“I would say that because…” He thought for a moment. “Because I’m an idiot, that’s why.”
A small smile perked up the corners of her mouth. “You’re not an idiot, Trevor.”
He laughed his self-deprecating laugh. He knew the one thing that would always get her to smile was talking down about himself.
“Thank you, Sypha. I am, though.” He squeezed her hand again. “That’s why I have my big-brained partner to do all the hard thinking for me. That’s why we’re Belnades and Belmont, and not the other way around.”
After what felt like weeks, Sypha smiled and laughed, a glimmer of her old self overtaking the gloomy cloud hanging over her.
Trevor smiled too. They could both feel the relief.
“I think we’re gonna be ok, Sypha.”
She smiled. “I think so, too.”
They rode on in silence for a bit longer, though much of the weight had been lifted from before. Evidently, though, they weren’t entirely rid of it. Trevor’s horrible fatigue persisted, causing him to drop the reins slightly, letting his arm rest in his lap. His forearms ached something fierce seemingly out of nowhere. He tried to play it off, but Sypha was much too observant for that.
“Is everything alright, Trevor?”
He put on his cool, unbothered facade, trying his damndest not to let her see him falter.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he said. “Just a bit tired. It’s been a long trip.”
She scrutinized him, noticing after a moment that his face had grown a bit more pale than usual.
“Are you sure?” she asked. She laid her hand over the back of his. “Your hand feels awfully warm. Do you need to rest for a bit?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m fine, I promise,” he said with a smile, his dismissal of her concerns not all that convincing as he wavered a bit in his seat.
“I can drive for a while if you feel like taking a break,” she insisted. “Are you sure you feel ok?”
“Don’t worry, Sypha.” He smiled reassuringly. “Like I said, everything is going to be ok.”
*****
For someone with at least marginally superhuman resilience and endurance, Alucard was having an absolute bitch of a time on the horse between the chafing and the fatigue in his legs and the stress in his back from sitting in the saddle for so long and the strain in his hands from the reins. He couldn’t imagine how long it’d take to get used to, but he hoped to the highest power that it’d be soon. He found himself periodically hopping off to give his body a break, rubbing his sore inner thighs, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort. Luckily for him, his mare was fairly mellow and didn’t require much control, because he was discovering that after years of being out of practice, riding a horse had proven to be much more difficult than he remembered.
Even in his discomfort, he never stopped moving for very long. He’d made such progress already, finding a trail to follow after stopping in only one nearby town. He’d spoken to anyone he could find, even daring to bother old women and children for information, though he was a bit rusty with his social skills as well. Taverns proved especially useful. He knew that if they’d passed through, they’d have stopped there. There wasn’t a chance in hell a barkeeper wouldn’t have seen them if they’d passed through. Thankfully, they were apt to getting into trouble, and apparently people in the town were hesitant to forget the man who’d gotten into a pretty violent scrap over a cat. Discretion had never been their strong suit, Alucard knew.
Thank god those idiots are so loud, he thought to himself, laughing as he went.
After a long stint of walking beside his mare, he sighed heavily, preparing for the beating his poor legs were about to be subjected to. Hesitantly, he jumped atop the horse, steadying himself in the saddle. Instantly, the ache was back. His whole body felt it. He had half a mind to jump back down, but his aching feet and mud-covered boots weren’t likely to be able to handle the trip for much longer than the rest of his body. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at keeping time, but it had already been several that he’d been on the road with only a few opportunities presented to rest and even fewer accepted. He’d had a single night in an inn, but he’d hardly slept at all, his mind never able to slow down long enough to drift off, trying to think only of finding what he was looking for. Focusing on it kept his mind busy, which was critical to his sanity at this point. Much worse thoughts constantly nagged at him, but he kept them at bay. He pictured his friends’ faces instead. He imagined himself meeting them again, running the scenario in his head over and over again. He practiced what he’d say a thousand times.
He conjured up their images in his mind. Their smiles. Would he see those bright, beaming expressions again? Would they be excited to see him? Would they care? What would they say? Would it be just like it used to be? Or would they be strangers?
He didn’t want to think about that. He couldn’t let himself get bogged down in those hypotheticals. He forced himself to think positively, and those thoughts kept him safe on his worst nights on the trip. He just wanted to see them again and every passing moment that he was alone brought him more pain, but more excitement. He was getting closer. He could feel it. It felt like warm butterflies in his chest, ready to break free. He found himself looking forward to the future, a luxury he hadn’t had in months. There was something inside him that he just couldn’t keep from being excited.
Hell, he wouldn’t even mind if he was called something rude when he saw them again. He might even like it. He smiled at the idea as he rode on, the next town not too far.
There is hope for me after all.
*****
The nights had grown longer and longer, and more frequent interruptions from night creatures had fought off sleep as viciously as Trevor and Sypha had fought them in turn. They were running themselves ragged, every few hours it seemed they were encountering a new horde, growing more and more exhausted with each new encounter.
Tonight was unfortunately no different.
The sun had just barely set, and both were surprised to see a fresh group out of the corners of their eyes just as they had settled into a spot to pull over for the night. Trevor bolted quickly up with Sypha following quickly behind. They quickly crawled to the edge of the wagon, cautious so as to not give away their presence immediately.
“Sypha,” Trevor whispered. “How many do you see?”
“Three from the back,” she estimated. “But there are others. I can hear them coming around the side.”
Trevor peeked up over the front bench, careful to keep out of view. “There are two more in the front. Why are there so many?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, unable to take her eyes off of the ones approaching from behind.
Trevor watched the creatures and gritted his teeth, feeling momentarily faint as the creatures in front of him doubled. Or at least, he thought they had. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a haze overtake him, swirling in his brain like thick, storming clouds as he struggled to focus. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this come over him, but it was certainly the most inconvenient. Being the self-sufficient hero that he fancied he was, he’d not made a mention of his frequent dizzy spells, clamminess, aching body, or overwhelming delirium to Sypha. He kept on pushing himself to fight and feign normalcy for as long as he could, and now that they were trapped and he hardly had any energy at all, he was realizing his mistake. But it was too late now.
Sypha had noticed him waver again as they kept their eyes on the creatures encircling them. She could see tiny beads of sweat forming in his hairline, watching him struggle to hold his body upright, though she knew he’d never admit that he was having trouble. She focused instead on the monsters for the time being. Her heart pounded as she mentally prepared to have this fight alone.
Trevor, true to form, would do his best to prove her wrong. “Alright, it looks like I’ll have to take the front. You can take the back, I presume?” he whispered.
She nodded, her confidence waning as she saw Trevor’s hand tremble.
Everything happened so quickly. The two leapt from the wagon on their respective sides, sudden flashes of metal and magic and claws exploded like fireworks, the trees around them cast in bright, violent lights that gave the area an aura of wildfire as the opposing forces clashed. Sypha and Trevor started strong, each managing to down their respective first creature rather quickly. Their fight was much more desperate, the stakes growing higher and higher as the peripheral creatures converged on them.
All of their arrogance in previous fights seemed to be coming back to haunt them. Sypha struggled to keep up with their attacks, swiftly dodging relentless slashings and gnashing teeth, haphazardly manifesting razor-sharp shards of ice, doing her best to aim, but finding that it was much harder to hit them when she was being barraged with claws on all fronts. She managed to land a few solid hits on the three that were pursuing her, buying her enough room to deliver a fatal blow to the head of one. She felt relieved when its body hit the ground, but her relief was quickly replaced by another night creature.
Trevor’s troubles were similarly alarming. With four creatures surrounding him, the lashing of his whip was doing little more than keeping them at bay. He’d managed a few scrapes on them, but they crept closer and closer, managing to back him against the wagon. The horses bayed and shrieked, heaving against their harnesses as the wagon jolted when a creature got too good of a grip on Trevor’s arm, thrusting him against the side. With his free arm, he was able to retrieve a knife from his belt, plunging it up into the creature’s throat. It released its grip, leaving Trevor with only a few small lacerations from its claws. He stumbled and took a deep breath, lashing out with his whip again to ward off the others, giving him a moment to regain his balance.
Shit…
He watched the others converge on him as soon as the opportunity arose. Just in time, he wrapped the whip thong around his hand, holding the stock and dagger tight in the other, sharply jabbing the cord in between into the throat of one of the creatures, forcing it back, narrowly managing to slip out between them. He wasted no time, hastily encircling the beast’s neck with the whip, driving it to the ground before cleaving the top of its head. He made an effort to pull the blade from its skull, but before it would come free, the other creatures had already corrected their path, coming straight for him, the creature’s body not deterring them in the least.
Trevor wiped sweat from his brow, panting hard as he leapt quickly aside to dodge their next barrage. He paused for a moment, catching a glimpse of Sypha, watching as she fumbled with some conjured fire, temporarily blinding one of the night creatures, but doing almost no significant damage to it as it continued to come at her like a hungry dog. Trevor clenched his jaw, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest.
For the first time in their adventure, even after everything they’d been through, with the creatures looming over him and his body on its last legs, Trevor finally felt as though he knew real despair.
*******
Aching legs had prompted Alucard to finally stop for the night. Internally, he was relentlessly chastising himself for quitting so easily, but by this point the chaffing the saddle had caused his thighs was getting unbearable, becoming fairly convinced that all of the skin inside his legs from his knees to his groin was a mere ten minutes’ ride from being rubbed off completely. He hopped down from the horse and began to walk, hoping there was a better place to camp than the roadside. He wasn’t sure he had it in him, but he thought for sure he could hear some running water nearby and was determined to walk just a little bit farther if it meant refilling his water and having a good wash.
He was infinitely grateful that no one else was on the road, convinced he was walking like a person who’d just shit their breeches, but the raw, tender flesh of his legs seared like wounds burned with fire and he couldn’t bear to walk upright any longer. He waddled uncomfortably along, leading his horse on as the sound as the rushing water grew louder and louder.
He paused for a moment, bringing a finger to his lips and with a gentle “shh,” urging his mare to be still. He waited, listening for a sound he thought he heard in the distance— just one shout. It was quite faint and far off, but he was certain he heard it. He looked as far down the road as he could, but trees obscured the way.
He kept still, his ears pricked up, listening closely for the sound again over the running water. It was quiet for a moment before a sharp, metallic sound pierced the air, just loud enough to reach Alucard. Several thoughts ran through his mind simultaneously, and he knew it was imperative that he act quickly if he decided to act.
Surely the right course of action was to investigate and assist. Right?
But he was so close to sleep that he desperately needed, and his aching body screamed for rest. He was the first to admit that he’d rather have died than gotten on the horse again, and besides, there was noise now, but whatever was being killed would be killed soon enough and he’d have the peace he needed. Besides, anyone travelling at this time was probably no more than a highway robber waiting to pounce on under-cautious stock carriages full of goods ripe for resale, he figured, and assumed they’d found a victim and would be on their way shortly. But was he okay with that? As callous a thought that was, he discerned quite a sizeable distance between him and the noise, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to get there in time if he did try to help. And god, did it sound easy to just ignore it.
He clenched his fists.
That’s not who you are.
He took a deep breath, his legs screaming one last time, warning him not to go, to sit and relax instead, but he ignored the pain and stuck a reluctant foot into the stirrup, quickly hoisting himself up. It was getting dark, and he knew that the last of the light would soon be gone and travelling back to the water would become exponentially more difficult, especially under the cover of the trees hiding the moonlight. Hopefully, a traveler had just come upon an angry animal, and he could quickly resolve the situation and get back in time. Knowing his luck, he assumed the chances of that were almost zero. Gripping the hilt of his sword in its sheath tightly in one hand and the reins in the other, he kicked his heels into the mare, setting her off on a quick sprint. Luckily, though the physical aspect wasn’t quite as easy, the mental aspect of riding a horse had stuck with him and it came back to him quite quickly.
He raced through the trees, birds scattering into the air as he blazed through the road, small animals dodging and darting out of the horse’s path, listening closely, hearing the noise grow louder. It wasn’t until he heard the afflicted cry of a woman that he grew uneasy. He could see a glow of fire in the distance, getting closer and closer to the blaze of two lanterns afront a wagon and sizeable, sporadic flashes of blue and red flames, his heart sinking faster and faster as he approached.
By the time he could make out the first night creature, he’d drawn his sword and was ready to start swinging. When he saw Trevor stagger out from behind the carriage, a beast bounding onto his chest, nearly crushing him and cutting him up concurrently, he was ready to start killing.
By the time Trevor noticed him, Alucard had skewered the creature, his sword zipping through the air to pierce its skull with such speed it knocked the creature several yards away. Trevor was frozen on the ground, convinced that he was hallucinating a black-coated hero with cascading blonde hair atop a horse. For a moment, he truly believed that he had died and looked upon an angel. Before they could say anything to one another, both mens’ attention was snapped to the treeline, where an especially massive burst of flame exploded. Sypha, after having attempted to use fire against the night creature she was entangled with, had missed, singing only its fur, and was now held against the tree behind her by the beast’s enormous claws as he wound up for what would inevitably be a battle-ending strike to her face. She struggled to free herself, but seeing the silhouette of its claw against the night sky forced her to close her eyes and prepare.
Trevor and Alucard both bolted, blades in hand, practically lunging at the creature as they simultaneously plowed their blades through its head. The creature let out a hideous, shuddering groan as they each gave a little extra push. When Sypha reopened her eyes, all she could see was a long sword plunging upward from the beast’s mouth and a knife peeking out from its maw, coming dangerously close to Sypha’s face. Before she knew it, the blades retracted and the creature fell to the ground.
She caught herself against the tree, struggling to regain her breath when she suddenly forgot how to breathe altogether for a moment, finally glimpsing Alucard’s golden hair, drifting around his alabaster face. She tried to say something, but her throat had been crushed pretty harshly, forcing a few violent coughs out of her rather than words as she fought to get her breath back.
Trevor, filled with a renewed reserve of adrenaline spun around, narrowly jabbing his knife into the belly of a beast as it lunged at them. The monster hunched over, giving Alucard a perfect opportunity to punch his sword down through its skull before kicking it off their blades and away from them. He could see a few others readying to attack. He tightened his grip on his sword and held his free hand out to Sypha.
“You alright?” he asked.
“I’m better now, thanks,” she said, taking his hand as she pushed herself back to her feet. There wasn’t much time to recoup, the nearby creatures readying to attack, unleashing ghastly cries from their hideous jaws. Sypha took a deep breath, her throat still burning, but she knew she couldn’t stop. She made a move, her hands quickly forming a sign, channelling all her energy into her fingers. Trevor and Alucard stood at her sides, brandishing their weapons, the whole trio ready to attack, quickly diving in to action, staying together this time rather than splitting up. They were stronger this way. They could all feel the difference. Even Alucard, who hadn’t missed the constant fighting at all felt a little glad he got to slay monsters by their sides again. He couldn’t help but let a small smile slip across his face as he hacked and slashed away at the beasts in front of him, finding that he felt much more satisfaction in killing the creatures knowing he was defending his friends again. He couldn’t stop himself, taking down creature after creature with Trevor and Sypha’s help, whip flailing and magic flying until there were none left in front of him, his sword having taken no mercy on any of them.
He turned, spotting a clever one that must have slipped past him and was coming for Trevor. Alucard readied his sword to strike, but Trevor hit first, slashing the beast’s throat before watching it crumple to the ground. They all breathed a sigh of relief, panting hard as the adrenaline surged through the three of them. Sypha turned to Alucard, about to sarcastically welcome him back to the group when Trevor suddenly stumbled forward, his whip and knife tumbling to the ground as he staggered, planting a knee into the ground before finally collapsing completely.
“Trevor!” they cried simultaneously, rushing to his side.
Alucard knelt down next to him, gently lifting his head into his lap. He was completely passed out. Alucard gently pushed back his hair off his face, the strands clinging to his sweat-glistening skin. Sypha placed her hand on his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” she gasped.
“I can feel the heat coming off him,” Alucard marveled. “I’m surprised he could stand at all, let alone fight.”
Sypha’s knuckles turned white. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell me.”
Alucard reached out and squeezed her arm, offering her a reassuring smile. “Because he’s an idiot. It’s not your fault, Sypha.”
She smiled, a small chuckle escaping, but her eyes didn’t cheer up. “I thought he was just stressed. It’s been… difficult since we left.”
Alucard gently rubbed her arm. “For right now, we have to get his fever down. I’m afraid he’s strained himself too much and is going to overheat, and god knows he can’t handle any more brain damage.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. She’d missed their petty, childish insults, no matter how much they used to get on her nerves. She reached out and tucked some more rogue hair behind Trevor’s ear. His eyebrows were knit together, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe normally. He looked so pained, and it broke her heart to see.
Alucard watched him, resting a hand on his chest. He could feel Trevor’s heart beating rapidly, his skin glowing bright red where it wasn’t nearly as pale as Alucard. He truly felt like he was on fire, and just as quickly as Alucard had felt relieved to find them, he began to worry. Classic Trevor, ruining his good time.
“We have to get his fever down,” Alucard said, looping his arm under Trevor’s as he propped him up to his feet. Sypha rushed to his other side, sliding under his other arm, trying to help push him up. “He can’t stay at this temperature for long.”
“Right,” Sypha said as they slowly made their way over to the wagon, careful to support Trevor between them, though she herself wasn’t feeling the most stable at the moment. “What do you think we should do?”
“I passed a small river on the way here. Maybe with the lamps on the wagon we’ll be able to make it back in the dark and get some cool water on him,” he said, sounding more confident than he felt. His mother practiced medicine and she was damn good at it, yet still Alucard had seen dozens succumb to illnesses like this. He only hoped Trevor was stronger than that.
They trudged forward but were suddenly halted when Sypha stumbled. Alucard managed to catch by the hand with his free hand, steadying her until she got her balance back.
“Sypha?”
“I’m fine, sorry. Just tired,” she said, waving him off with a smile. “That’s it. Really.”
Alucard raised his eyebrow. “I’m seeing a pattern here,” he said with a hint of skepticism.
“I’m really fine, I swear,” she insisted.
Alucard watched her try to work her way back under Trevor’s other side to prop him up, but before she could get in position, he reached down, scooping up Trevor into his arms like he weighed no more than a large child. Sypha was shocked.
“He’s so… how are you—“
“Sorry,” Alucard said bashfully. “I… could’ve carried him by myself. I thought you’d like to help.”
Sypha watched him in disbelief as he made his way over to the wagon with much more ease than they had had together.
“Oh, and please don’t tell him I carried him like this,” Alucard said, turning back to her as she followed behind him. “I’m pretty sure he’d kill me in my sleep.”
Trevor made a few distressed groans in his feverish stupor, as if to agree, though Alucard knew he was too thoroughly unconscious to hear them.
She smiled. “I’ll just… Save it for a day when I need a good laugh.”
He stepped up into the wagon quite effortlessly, laying him on their makeshift bedding, gently situating his head on the pillow. Sypha climbed in behind him, squatting down beside Alucard. She gently ran her fingers along Trevor’s knuckles. She could feel his hands trembling. He sounded terrible and he looked even worse. Small, pained whining sounds escaped his mouth, his jaw clenched as though gripped by nightmares. Sypha hadn’t had a fever of that caliber, but she could only imagine what he was feeling, if he felt anything at all.
“I’ll leave it to you, but you should get his tunic and boots off before he overheats,” Alucard said flatly.
“I don’t think I can lift him on my own,” she said. “Can you help me?”
“Of course,” he said, knowing full well that discovering the fact that Alucard had undressed him would cause Trevor to kill him again, even more thoroughly than he would kill him for carrying him in the first place.
Careful not to disturb him too much, Alucard lifted Trevor’s back off the ground, sitting him nearly upright while Sypha wrestled his shirt from his pants. Trevor ragdolled forward with every move they made, making it quite difficult for Sypha to work the tunic up and over his head and shoulders while Alucard held him up, though she did eventually succeed. Alucard laid him gently back down, resting his head softly on the pillow while Sypha worked off Trevor’s boots, tossing them aside. She watched as Alucard quickly hopped out of the wagon, only to reappear moments later to hitch his mare to the back.
“Do you have any water?” Alucard asked.
“A little, but not much. Do you need some?”
“No, but you do. Please hydrate yourself before you both die in this wagon,” he said as he hopped onto the driving bench, snatching up the reins and urging the horses swiftly onward, as quickly as they could safely go. He kept turning back to check on them, knowing full well there was nothing pleasant to see. He could hear Trevor’s labored groans as Sypha whispered quietly to him. Neither Alucard nor Trevor could hear what she was saying, but Alucard could feel how desperate she was to make everything alright—or at least, convince everyone that everything was alright. The only person she’d never be able to convince was herself.
Thankfully, the ride passed by speedily, her nerves calming just a bit at the sound of rushing water. As soon as the carriage came to a stop, she hopped out of the back with a bucket and rag in hand, hurriedly filling it from the stream.
Alucard wandered behind her, thinking he’d wait by the back of the wagon for her to return until he noticed something. He flew over to her, carefully placing a hand on her arm, his other hand floating cautiously above a frayed tear in her shirt across the top of her shoulder doused in blood. A nasty looking gash lay underneath.
“Sypha, you’re hurt,” he said, reaching to take the full bucket from her.
She winced slightly as he wrested it from her. “It’s not bad, it’s just a scrape. It looks worse than it is.”
“Sypha…” He took the rag from her other hand, laying it across the side of the bucket and pointed harshly toward the back of the wagon. “Go. Sit.”
He guided her with a hand on her back as she trudged laboriously back. Though she tried her best to hide it, Alucard wouldn’t have been able to miss that limp if he tried.
“I swear to god, you two would literally die and then say you were fine,” he chastised, setting the bucket on edge of the wagon as he helped Sypha climb up.
She laughed softly. “You’re probably right. Sorry.”
They crawled over to Trevor, who was still sweating visibly.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said dipping half the rag into the water. “Sorry to ask, but do you mind?” he asked, holding up the rag by the dry corners.
Sypha plopped herself down, leaning against the wall with a grunt. Her hand flew into a sign and the wet part of the rag froze solid right before their eyes.
“Thanks,” he said, folding the frozen part into the middle before wrapping the dry part about it. He placed the ice rag across Trevor’s forehead, making him unconsciously wince and squirm. Alucard put a hand on his chest, partially to calm him, but partially to get a feel for his temperature. That made Trevor shudder even more, goosebumps appearing across his skin as he instinctively shied away from his touch.
“You may be colder than the ice,” Sypha smirked.
Alucard scoffed. “Perhaps. Maybe my read is off, then, but he’s even hotter than before.”
Sypha placed a hand on Trevor’s forearm, quickly recoiling. “That’s not good.”
“Have you two come across any doctors on your way?”
“None,” Sypha lamented. “We sought one out for some typical headache remedies, but it seems all of the villages around here travel north to see some doctor in the city, but that’s a ways away.”
Alucard gazed out the front of the wagon, the stars barely visible above the road. He knew what to do, but he knew that saying it would be resigning himself to a miserable time.
He sighed. “We should take him back to the castle.”
“The castle?”
“My mother had a study there. Much of what she had was burned in Gresit, but much of what was lost was duplicated before she began her practice. She wanted to ensure her things would be in order whether she was in the village or with my father. Surely there’s useful information there.”
“A very thorough woman,” Sypha remarked.
Alucard smiled sadly. “Indeed.”
He scooted closer to Sypha and discarded his long jacket, the warm night beginning to make him sweat. He was much more comfortable in his white cotton shirt, finally feeling a bit of relief from the heat. He reached out, carefully steadying her arm.
“May I?” he asked.
She nodded her affirmation and he carefully peeled the fabric away from the wound. She turned her head, so he wouldn’t see her grimace. Alucard examined it closely. It wasn’t terrible but it certainly looked painful, and despite her brave face, Alucard knew it was causing her at least a good amount of discomfort.
“I saw Trevor stumble,” she whispered as Alucard dabbed at it with a new wet rag. “I got distracted and thought he might need my help and the stupid thing got me. It almost got me right in the throat, but I moved just in time…”
Alucard focused on cleaning the wound, though he could feel her shoulder trembling. “You’re both alive. You did good.”
She let her head fall back against the wagon cover. “I knew he was sick. He’d been starting to show symptoms for a few days. I kept asking him about it, but he was just… being so stubborn. He kept saying he was fine. I just wanted to help… But I stopped asking. I let him walk around like that to teach him a lesson. I thought that he’d learn to take help from others for once.” She sighed heavily. “But I think he’d rather die than ask for help. And now he might.”
Alucard sat back on his heels, watching her face, surprisingly stoic, despite the visible tears in her eyes.
“You did what you could, Sypha,” he said, his voice low and soft. “It’s not your fault that he’s that way.”
“A big fucking idiot?” she said with a chuckle as the tears began streaming down her face.
“A big fucking idiot,” Alucard confirmed, a grin crossing his face.
He dug around in his bag, pulling out a smaller satchel with a few clean bandages and things.
“You came prepared,” Sypha observed.
“My mother was an apothecary, preparation has been ingrained in me since childhood,” he jested. “If you think I’ve left my home without an emergency kit a single day in my life, you’d be mistaken.”
“Lucky us to have you, then,” she said a bit sadly.
“Lucky indeed. Not so lucky to avoid stitches, I’m afraid,” he said, giving the skin around her wound an exploratory poke.
Sypha groaned. “Yes sir, doctor Alucard.”
She watched as he assembled his tools nearby, laying out a needle, bandages, thread, and a few other little things.
“Where does Trevor keep his alcohol?” he asked.
“You think he’s that big of an alcoholic?” she retorted with a smirk.
“Absolutely,” he said. “The only reason I found you two was by stopping in any bar I came across and asking around. One of the bartenders mentioned paying you two in bottles of grain alcohol for the creatures you killed. I know Trevor likes to drink, but I don’t think even he could’ve finished a bottle of that poison on his own in such a short amount of time.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, “that’s about right. There’s one under that mat there,” she said, indicating a spot underneath the driver’s bench.
Alucard grabbed it and popped the top, the fragrant alcohol burning his eyes, making him recoil in disgust.
“I’m sorry about this, Sypha.”
“Just do it. I can take it.”
He huffed, pressing his mouth into a sympathetic line as he carefully poured the clear liquor over the wound, holding her arm down tightly to prevent her from pulling away, which she tried as soon as the liquid made contact with her injury.
“AH, FUCK!” she exclaimed as quietly as she could. “Are you sure that’s necessary?”
“My mother taught me everything I know about medicine. Are you going to question my mother’s teaching, Sypha?”
She smiled. “I guess not.”
When he was satisfied, cleaned up a bit of the excess alcohol with the clean cloth. He finished up and picked up the small, hooked needle.
“Hate to ask again, but do you mind?”
Sypha’s fingers strained into a shaky sign, a flame igniting over her index finger. Alucard held the needle in the flame, careful to heat every part of it.
“Just be fast,” she said, resigning herself to the pain.
And he was. He worked as carefully and quickly as possible, weaving the needle and thread as dextrously as a professional. Sypha grimaced, but if she were being honest with herself, it was only a fraction of the pain of the alcohol. Before she knew it, Alucard had taped a clean cloth bandage right over it and gave her a reassuring pat on the arm.
“All done. Sorry, I don’t have any sweets for you,” he joked.
“That’s ok, I think I’ll get over it,” she said. “Thank you, Alucard.”
“Of course. That’s what friends are for,” he said, wincing as he carefully readjusted the legs of his pants, stretching out his free hand as a sudden flash of pain radiated through his palms. His fingers ached something fierce, every muscle and tendon in his hand exhausted from holding the reins for so long.
“Everything ok?” she asked.
“Yes, just chafed from the ride over. I’m fine. Just a bit uncomfortable,” he said, situating himself against the wall next to Sypha. “It’s a bit warm tonight, which isn’t helping. He massaged his palms aggressively, trying to rub out the soreness, though he tried to keep his hands at least somewhat out of Sypha’s view.
Naturally, though, that didn’t quite work. She sat up, quickly digging through a bag next to her, pulling out a small jar. She sat back in her place, offering it to Alucard.
“Put some of this where it hurts,” she said.
He hesitantly unscrewed the lid, cautiously dipping a finger in. When he retrieved it, a long, thick cord of goop trailed between his finger and the jar.
“Very… slimy,” he said with a grimace.
“It’s the best for your skin. It’s aloe gel with a few other special additions of my own,” she said deviously.
“I didn’t know you were a mediciner, Sypha.”
“I’m not, but to be honest, everyone should know how to make this stuff. I used to use it all the time for sunburns.”
“I trust you, I think,” he said, beginning to undo the top of his pants, not feeling particularly shy. He worked his pants and boots off, discarding them into what was becoming a pile of his clothes. He settled back down, pulling his braies up to the tops of his thighs, sucking in air when he saw how enflamed his inner thighs were, cringing as he pulled the last of the fabric over them, each brush of fabric like fire on his legs. An aggressive crimson rash extended from inside his knees as far up his leg as his underwear would expose and then some.
Sypha raised a shocked fist to her mouth, her eyebrows sympathetically knit together.
“Oh my god, Alucard.”
“Remind me to never ride a horse again,” he said, with a pained laugh.
Sypha chuckled. “I’m proud of you for making it all the way here.”
He stuck his fingers into the jar, retrieving a healthy blob of the goop, dabbling it onto his thigh all over the red area, leaving a peaky and glistening sheen all down his inner leg, managing to get it all over his hands in the process.
“No offense, but you aren’t very good at this. Are you sure your mother taught you everything you know?”
He smiled. “She taught me, but I guess I didn’t learn it all quite so well.”
Shakin her head, Sypha clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, you should know better.”
“I can hardly feel my hands, give me some slack,” he laughed. “They never tell you how much holding those reins will absolutely murder your fingers.”
Sypha climbed in front of him, planting herself cross-legged between his legs. A shot of adrenaline shot through Alucard’s heart at the sight, his brain dragged momentarily back to that night. He quickly remembered himself and put those thoughts aside when Sypha held out her hands to him, shaking them demandingly.
“Give me your hand,” she demanded.
He hesitantly laid his hand atop hers, where she began to firmly massage his palm, working her fingers in the soft flesh at the base of his thumb and all across his smooth palm. Alucard grunted reflexively, his muscles aching under her fingers, though the pain felt like relief.
“How is that?” she asked eagerly.
“Bloody great, actually,” he said with a sigh, relaxing his head against the wagon cover.
Though he wasn’t sure quite how he felt about her choice of seating location, he was pretty certain he’d never felt anything that incredible in his whole life. He hadn’t had much time to realize just how exhausted he was until now, and he didn’t have it in him to complain, especially considering their state, but he was honestly overwhelmed by his discomfort and it all seemed to hit him at once. He was so frequently tired and in pain recently; none of this was new to him, but after having reached his breaking point and travelling for days without rest, his emotions were on a hairpin trigger, and just the slight semblance of familiar comfort moistened his eyes with tears.
He clenched his teeth as Sypha continued to work on his hand, sliding her thumbs between the tendons running up to his knuckles. He tried to compose himself, turning his head to the side to avoid her gaze, letting a few bits of hair fall strategically about his face to obscure it, but he just couldn’t hold back the tears, letting them spill as covertly as possible as he watched the tree branches shake gently outside the wagon, their black-branched silhouettes waving across the few stars that were visible.
It took her a few moments to notice, but Sypha immediately paused her massage when she saw the glint in his eyes which he was so obviously hiding. She could see his jaw quivering.
“Alucard..?”
He rolled his head against the wagon cover to look at her with the saddest smile she’d ever seen, hoping to reassure her as the tears continued to streak down his face. He sniffled a little and cleared his throat.
“I’m just really tired,” he said, a waver audible in his voice.
Sypha pouted, her eyebrows knit together in concern. She gently set his hand atop his thigh and with her hands gently cupping his face, she wiped both his cheeks. He didn’t feel like he deserved this comfort, but he let her keep her hands there in a few moments of self-indulgence while she brushed her thumbs lovingly across his face.
He took one of her hands in both of his, burying his face in it as he let out a shuddering sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, letting go of her hand. “You should go to sleep.”
“I can’t,” she said. “Not when you feel like this.”
She held out her hands again.
“Give me your other hand.”
He did and she proceeded to lavish his hand with the same loving fervor that she’d given his first.
“Sypha, your shoulder,” he protested.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt when I do this.”
“You really should get some sleep.”
“Eventually, but not yet. Anyway, if I sleep, the magic will wear off and the ice will melt, and I can’t let Trevor’s fever get any higher.”
“Oh… right…”
She released his hands, and he stretched them out, finally feeling refreshed from the tension he’d carried in them for days.
“How do they feel now?” she asked.
“Amazing. You’re a wizard, Sypha,” he said with relief.
“A magician, but close,” she corrected with a wink.
“And a little bit of an ass, but we won’t hold that against you either,” he joked.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I missed your humor. We both did.” She paused a moment. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“I missed you two, too,” he said. “And I’m very glad to be back.”
He could feel the tears coming back again, and evidently, Sypha sensed it, too. She picked up the forgotten jar of salve and offered it up to him, sparing him another emotionally vulnerable moment.
“Don’t forget this. Just rub it in until it’s basically dry. I promise you’ll feel better instantly,” she said. “I’m going to go wash up.”
She made her way out the back of the wagon and departed to the stream while Alucard made quick work of the salve. Sypha was right—it was a miracle. It cooled and soothed every inch of raw flesh, and before he knew it, he’d forgotten what it felt like to hurt. He carefully screwed the lid back on and returned it to the bag Sypha’d retrieved it from.
When Sypha returned, she had a small cup full of water, climbing back into the wagon as carefully as possible. She set it down at Trevor’s side before kneeling beside him, softly sliding her hand under his neck, gently rousing him with her other hand, his chest still excessively warm and sheened with sweat beneath her palm. She took the icy rag from his forehead and set it aside while she continued to lightly jostle his chest.
“Trevor,” she whispered. “Trevor I need you to sit up.”
Trevor grumbled softly as he came around, hardly able to open his eyes, though when he did, they were glazed over and wandering. It became quickly obvious that he wasn’t going to be quite as responsive as she needed him to be. The thought made her nervous.
“Alucard, help me,” she said as she started to lift Trevor’s head.
Together, they got him into a sitting position, though he was hardly able to support himself in his state, barely even able to recoil from Alucard’s cool grip. Alucard scooted behind him, bracing against Trevor’s back. His head lolled forward, quietly groaning in pain.
“Sypha…?” he mumbled, searching the wagon, unable to get his bearings.
“You need to drink some water, Trevor,” she said, holding the cup up to his mouth. He instinctively pulled his head back, prompting Alucard to steady it from behind. He let his fingers lovingly scratch Trevor’s scalp just a little bit to help him relax. Sypha caressed his cheek, finally prompting him to open his mouth, just enough to be receptive to the cup.
“Good boy,” she said, a bit panderingly. “Just a little.”
He struggled to accept a few small gulps of water before sputtering, nearly choking on it, nearly knocking the cup away when he reflexively raised his arms. Alucard quickly blocked him from making contact with the cup, urging his hands back down. His scratching turned more to a soothing massage, allowing himself a bit of a tender connection as he kept Trevor from throwing his head back. That didn’t seem to be a problem as Trevor’s head quickly fell forward again.
Sypha set aside the cup and took Trevor’s face in her hands. He lazily attempted to pull away, but he didn’t have the strength in him. She brushed the hair off his forehead, feeling new beads of sweat forming where the rag had been, his skin barely any cooler than it was before they’d put the rag there.
She spoke seriously. “This isn’t good, Alucard.”
“We need to hurry and get to the castle. We’ll be able to diagnose and treat him there, but until then we just have to keep his temperature down and hope we make it that far.”
He could feel the heat radiating off of Trevor’s back, though he shivered quite horribly, the chills taking over his body. Alucard wrapped his arms around Trevor’s torso, making Trever shudder unconsciously. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d pulled Trevor in even closer to himself and leaned back, propping himself against the wall as Trevor laid against him.
Sypha’s eyes widened with realization, a gasp of eureka. “You’re a genius Alucard!”
He scoffed. “I wouldn’t say that. It just makes the most amount of sense. This way, you can go to sleep and not have to worry. My cold, dead heart will keep him cool.”
He smiled, laughing at his joke as if it weren’t at least mostly true. But in spite of his dark humor, he wasn’t upset about the close comfort of Trevor’s form atop his chest. Loneliness had crushed him for so long that it was a relief to feel the weight of a friend instead. Maybe he was being selfish, but he didn’t really care at that point and it didn’t seem like Sypha had any particular gripes with it either as she stretched her arms out, seeming quite eager to hit the hay.
“That’s great, because I think I’ll die if I stay awake any longer,” she yawned. “I’ll wake up early and get the horses ready to go in the morning.”
“Alright,” Alucard said, satisfied. “Sounds like a deal.”
“Oh! Wait a second.”
He watched as she scurried around the wagon, assembling an armful of whatever soft things she could find—mostly spare blankets, a pillow, and extra wagon covering.
“Here, sit up.”
He obeyed and she began to stuff her collection behind his back, offering at least a bit of padding between him and the hard wooden wall.
“Much better!” she announced, quite pleased with herself.
“Thank you, Sypha,” Alucard said, situating himself back into the pile.
Her smile quickly turned into sheepish blushing as she looked around the wagon, avoiding eye contact with him as she pondered a thought that had popped into her mind. Alucard was quick to notice.
“What?” he asked, almost accusational in his tone.
“I’m… um… well, I was just thinking that… you know… uh…” For the life of her she couldn’t stop stuttering, not usually considering herself a shy person, but somehow unable to just spit it out. “Well usually, skin to skin contact is better for heat transfer… right? Or… vice versa in this case…”
Alucard found it a bit difficult to close his mouth, a single eyebrow raised in disbelief at her proposition.
“Do you… want me to take my shirt off!?” he asked a bit incredulously.
“NO!” she blurted. “That’s not… Not for me, no… I don’t want you to, I just… Think maybe you should…”
Alucard couldn’t help but burst out into a full fit of laughter, unable to contain himself for the first time in what felt like forever. Sypha crossed her arms and pursed her lips as he cackled madly, throwing his head back in such genuine, hearty laughter that she wasn’t sure he’d ever stop. But he did, eventually, though not until an inappropriate amount of time had passed. He couldn’t be bothered to care. He would’ve laughed forever if he could’ve. It had only just occurred to him just how much he’d missed laughing, and god, he was so thrilled to be able to do it again.
“You should see yourself, Sypha, you look like a tomato.”
She smirked. “Well I’m glad you’re amused. Now do you want Trevor to die or what?”
As the last of the laughs left his system, he managed to sit up under Trevor’s weight and slip his shirt off, careful not to let Trevor fall forward or slide to the side. Finally, he leaned back again and resituated Trevor against him, his warm back pressing against Alucard’s cool chest. For someone who’d never cared much about temperature before, he had to admit that it felt nice to feel someone else’s. He shrugged a bit.
“There. Are you happy now?” he asked, his goofy, pointy smile unabating.
But Sypha didn’t seem to hear or enjoy the joke. She was already distracted by something. Her eyebrows were furrowed together and she swallowed hard, and when Alucard followed her eyeline to the enormous scars criss-crossing his body, he suddenly didn’t feel so jolly either.
She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and tracing the long line crossing his chest to his shoulders. He instinctively shied away, averting his gaze, but there was nowhere to go. He had no other option but to sit there and let her feel what they’d done to him.
“Alucard…”
The way she said his name felt like a knife twisting right in his guts. He was silent for a few moments, his breath shuddering as he tried to contain the array of emotions flowing through his mind like a stream of poison that he wished would just kill him already. But no such luck would come to him.
Without a word, Sypha crawled over to him, throwing her arms around his neck, cradling his head, her fingers entwining in his hair. A few tears dripped down his pale cheeks, but they weren’t his for once. He reached up, wrapping his arm around her, gently at first, but soon his fingers dug into her back as he clung to her.
“We’re never going to be apart again. The three of us…” she whispered. “We’re going to stay together forever.”
“Yes…” he breathed, his grip on her tightening even further.
After what felt like an eternity, she sat back, placing a hand on both his and Trevor’s shoulders, looking them over with a soft smile, giving them both a light, loving squeeze.
“My boys…” she mused to herself.
She leaned forward, giving Trevor a long, loving kiss atop the head. To Alucard’s surprise, she turned to him and kissed his head as well. She let herself linger there for a moment longer and Alucard didn’t mind. He closed his eyes, leaning into it, feeling a fluttering in his chest as she sat back beside him again.
The three of us… together forever… he thought. What a dream…
He let himself get situated, propping up his knees around Trevor, wrapping his arms lightly around his feverish neck. Sypha scooted a bit closer and got comfortable beside him, nudging her good shoulder up into him so she could lay her head on his. He didn’t pull away, embracing her warmth beside him, allowing her to lay her hand on his arm as she cozied up to him, careful not to further irritate her bad shoulder.
“Are you comfortable?” she asked, nearly asleep already.
“Yes,” he lied.
“Goodnight, Alucard.”
Yes it is…
“Goodnight, Sypha.”
Truthfully, his back ached fiercely, and his ass was already on pins and needles. Though Sypha’s miracle cream was, indeed, miraculous, it didn’t hold up against the obnoxiously painful irritation that Trevor’s sleeping form caused on Alucard’s inner thighs. He wasn’t sure how either of them would be comfortable enough to sleep, but he quickly realized when Trevor nuzzled his head into the cool flesh of Alucard’s neck that it wasn’t about the space. It was the people that made it comfortable.
Sypha squirmed a bit beside him, giving his arm a little squeeze as she, too, nuzzled her head a bit deeper into him.
The air became still very soon, Trevor and Sypha’s heavy, sleep-filled breaths becoming the only sound Alucard could hear. They were the only ones he wanted to hear, now or ever.
He could only feel bliss now. He finally felt at home. In this tiny, hot, and incredibly smelly wagon, he was there at last. Whatever came their way, they’d face it as a team. As a family.
My friends… he thought as he drifted off to sleep. My forever...