Chapter Text
## Blood Ties Across Time
The rumble of a motorcycle engine echoed through the cobblestone streets of Garside Grange as Alexandru "Alex" Dracula-Branagh pulled up to the ancient building. His leather jacket caught the moonlight, silver studs glinting like stars against the black material. A knowing smirk played across his face as he dismounted, boots clicking against the stone – he'd heard so many stories about this place from both his parents.
The eldest child of Vladimir Dracula and Robin Branagh (now known as Raven after an unexpected transformation years ago), Alex carried himself with the confident grace of both bloodlines. His siblings back home – Mircea, the thoughtful middle child with a penchant for poetry and peace until provoked, and little Lucia, who shared their mother Robin's fascination with the macabre – would be jealous of this adventure.
Inside Garside Grange, a younger Vlad felt an inexplicable pull toward the stranger at their door. Despite his cautious nature, something deep within his vampiric instincts urged him to trust this mysterious visitor. The Count peered suspiciously at their guest while Ingrid observed with raised eyebrows, clearly questioning her brother's unusually quick acceptance of a stranger.
"I seek protection," Alex announced smoothly, careful not to reveal too much. "I believe you're the only one who can provide it... Grand High Vampire."
Vlad's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "You can take one of the family coffins."
When the Count offered their guest a bottle of blood, Alex declined with a casual wave. "No need," he pulled out a sleek thermos, "I have my own blood substitute. Mother's special recipe." His smirk widened at their confused expressions.
Later that week, when the blood bank Vlad had established was destroyed, Alex saw his opportunity. He approached his young father with a vial of deep red liquid. "This might help with your supply problem," he suggested, watching as Vlad examined the substitute with fascination.
In quiet moments, Alex found himself lost in memories of his own timeline. He remembered Robin – now Raven – teaching him and his siblings about living among breathers in their small Serbian village. "You'll have to bear with it," Raven would say with a knowing smile, "I've been doing it since before you were born." The memory brought a fond smile to Alex's face as he pulled out a worn photograph.
Ingrid and Erin caught him looking at the picture one evening. In it, his siblings stood together: Mircea, with their father's serious expression but their mother's artistic soul, and little Lucia, who combined both parents' gothic sensibilities with a modern twist.
"My brother," Alex explained, noting their curious glances, "he's usually the peaceful one. But when he's angry..." He chuckled, "Let's just say he got both our parents' tempers."
The girls exchanged glances, something about his casual reference to 'our parents' catching their attention. But Alex had learned from both his parents – sometimes the best way to hide a secret was to speak it so openly that no one would believe it was true.
In his pocket, a message from home glowed on his phone: "Hope you're not causing too much chaos in the past. Mom's worried, but Dad just laughed and said you're probably handling it better than he would have. -Mircea"
Alex smiled. If only they knew.