miraclewhip | (for cryptsleeper)

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(for cryptsleeper)

[ He remembers- maybe about half of what happened last night. A little more, perhaps. He remembers the comments that initiated the fight. Vaguely remembers being dragged back to the inn. Remembers throwing cold water on his face to wake himself up to do the terrible fucking job of stitching himself back up that he found himself with this morning (if there was ever a chance to keep that fucking cut from scarring, well, he's gone and botched it).

And he remembers telling the fucking vampire things that he probably should not have told the fucking vampire. He doesn't remember the specifics but he knows that he said too much. More than he's told anyone in a decade maybe. All for the sake of a petty victory that he doesn't even remember if he achieved.

He's uncharacteristically quiet today, even for being as hungover as he is. He forces the almost-solid porridge down his throat when it's pushed in front of him. He drinks half the water that he was using to wash himself last night and pours the other half over his head to wake himself up after maybe an hour of sleep. He only interrupts Sypha's long, long 'discussion' when she stares at him for an indication that he's still awake. It's after that that he's dismissed to the back of the wagon, either because Sypha can't stand his presence right now or because she doesn't trust him not to fall off and end up tangled under its wheels.

(Can't blame her, being tangled up under the wheels of a wagon sounds better than being in his own head right now, even without the throbbing pain.)

He doesn't sleep, mostly because he's been told not to and he is, even more uncharacteristically, on his best behavior right now. The day is mostly uneventful until sometime in the afternoon, when a particularly foolish highwayman sees a wagon driven by a single speaker woman and tries to take advantage of the situation. He's driven off within moments, of course, harmlessly to both them and himself, and the worst that happens is that the horses are startled by Sypha's display and the wagon lurches to one side, knocking Trevor onto his side against the wooden floor. It's only after everything has been confirmed okay, once the horses are calm and they're moving again, that he places a hand to his lower chest. ]

Fuck.

[ It's warm. And damp. He's gone and opened his shitty stitches, hasn't he? ]

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Just checking.

[The detail that it's communion wine would actually get a laugh, but rather than play twenty questions, Alucard drifts into silence instead. Part of it is because Trevor's set the tone for the day with his own muted presence, the rest is out of concern of just continuing from last night.

Hn. Idiot still has shirt shirt off though, so Alucard reaches towards a small pile of definitely not stolen blankets that have been placed towards the front of the wagon, and plops one of them on Trevor wordlessly.]

Checking what, that I've not managed to drink myself stupid again since last night? No such fucking luck. Neither of you have taken your eyes off me for long enough.

[ Yes, that is an admission that he probably would have gone and drowned the events of last night in the cause of the events of last night, if he'd only been able to.

He could dress himself. He's not a child. But he doesn't feel like putting any extra strain on the stitches until he has to, even carefully done as they are. And so the blanket- the blanket is appreciated. He pulls it around himself with the arm on his good side, going quiet again. When he does speak, it's muted. Defeated. ]

I don't owe you anything.

[ That's- probably the closest to thanks Alucard is going to get for some time. ]

...

[He has to explain this?! He has to explain this. But before Alucard does that, he reaches over to grab that disgusting shirt, and mutters something about give him the actual sewing kit, he might as well fix this hole while he's at it too.]

You do know that all of the refusal to take an eye off of you is because we're worried about you as a person, correct?

[ He tosses the sewing kit onto the ground. ]

Use the bone needles. Some of the metal ones're silver, and I don't fucking remember which are which.

[ He half considers resisting - he knows how to fucking sew, it's just harder to sew oneself than it is to sew a shirt and he hasn't had a chance yet. He doesn't, though. But the shirt at least communicates that message - he's had it for a long time, and it's taken much more abuse than it did last night. The evidence of repair jobs, well done and terribly done and everything in between, is all over it.

And he just sighs. ]

Believe it or not, I've made it this long without dying. Not to angry mobs, not to any fucking vampire, and certainly not to a couple of drinks. You don't need to worry, I'll stick around long enough for your father to do the honors.

[Sewing fabric is much easier than skin. It's a basic skill, and Alucard goes for the bone needles as instructed. The smaller the better, and he's careful not to even brush against anything metalic.]

Thank you.

[There's enough thread stuffed into the kit to take care of the shirt's repair, and Alucard threads that quickly. He's careful as he makes sure he has the fabric aligned correctly, and while there's some sign of skillful work here, it's easier to note where Trevor was drunk and sewing instead. Somehow the mental image isn't as funny as it sounds at first blush.

At least a tiny, exhausted laugh escapes at Trevor's all too honest assessment of the situation.]

I almost miss the bravado coming out of your mouth. [But it's back to seriousness, eyes down, concentrated on the fabric.] And while all that's true, it isn't going to change either of our minds or our concern for your well being.

[ He almost expected some form of reproach there. For Alucard to have higher expectations for their chances against Dracula than he does. It's refreshing when he doesn't get one, and something about the way he's holding himself softens for the first time since last night.

They both know full well they're going to die. And he appreciates not being lied to about it. Sypha- Sypha still deserves better. Still has people who'll miss her. Still deserves saving from this. But the two of them are going to die and Wallachia isn't going to miss them. ]

Stubborn fucks, the both of you. [ It's fonder than before. A little. Which isn't saying a lot, because there have been knife fights fonder than how he was speaking to Alucard before. ] You'll have to let me know where the two of you find all the joy in your lives sometime, so I can concern it away from you.

Forgot yourself in that sentence.

[There's a dryness in the tone that could be humor if one squinted really, really hard. Otherwise it's just a very true observation, and they both know it.

At the word joy, there's silence, mostly because if they survive, Alucard knows how he'll be spending any time in the world. Full of guilt, because that's the only possible result. Wallachia will survive, and he'll have committed patricide for it and fully orphaned himself because it was the right thing to do. It's a thought he has had before, one that plays in the back of his mind constantly, and so all he can do is shake his head.]

You'll have better luck doing that to Sypha then.

[ He snorts. It's- not quite derisive. And it hurts to do, which is probably less than he deserves for what he's about to say. ]

This entire fucking quest of yours is one long attempt to find something you love and take it away from you out of concern.

[ It's- not materially different from the kind of thing he was saying before, when he was trying to provoke Alucard into a fight. But the tone is softer. A little warmer. Not quite anything approaching sympathetic, but closer than anything else so far. ]

Said as if I haven't considered that very fact since the outset.

[Alucard feels the familiar ground, but it isn't arguing. And it isn't talking past each other either, which after last night is a massive improvement. Maybe Trevor needed that stab wound and Sypha to kick his ass to help move away from all the self loathing. Maybe this is temporary. He won't treat it like a victory but he can try and match it in kind.

His hands keep moving along the fabric, and while the repair work is done, there's one or two smaller holes that catch his eye. So he moves onto those as well.]

Just need to find a reason that books are bad for her. Then we can all be miserable. It'll be great.

[ He watches Alucard work. Truth be told, he couldn't say where the other tears came from. Maybe other, less terrible jabs of the same knife. Maybe it caught on the floorboards when he fell to the ground after the stab. He barely remembers the fight itself, it could be any number of things. ]

You don't have to do this. And I never asked you to, so you don't get to hold it over me later.

[That finally gets a real laugh, something that's got a flicker of warmth to it rather than the ice cold wall that Alucard always seems to be.]

I can't think of anything immediately. Your thoughts?

[Vellum can be made of cows, which can be seen as cute, but also goats who are arguably the real spawn of Satan.]

I've been sitting in silence since we got started on the road, Belmont. I need something to do, and this material doesn't complain if I have to take my time.

[ There's an obvious answer, what happens to people who get too hungry for knowledge they're not supposed to have. But that's a bit of a sensitive topic for the both of them, isn't it? ]

She's going to do her eyes in, if she keeps reading at night. If I have to give a shit about my liver, she needs to watch her eyesight.

Much better than what I had.

[Infinitely better, actually. Alucard doesn't quite smile, but by god it nearly happens. He does it as he ties the last of the threads on Trevor's shirt, and folds it up carefully before reaching over Trevor and putting it next to him.]

There, that should hold.

[ Pulling the shirt back on is- challenging. Not because of anything Alucard's done, but because he has one arm that he can only raise so high and a broken finger on the other hand. It takes some time, a lot of looking like a half-dressed idiot and a string of colorful curses when he raises his arm a little too high on his stabbed-side, but eventually he manages to pull it on. It's still a mess, but it's a mess that only has holes where it's supposed to have holes. ]

You slept a whole year, and now you're getting restless over a week spent being idle. [ Vampires, they're weird. He chuckles. ] I'll get myself stabbed more often, if you like. Keep you busy.

I've been sleeping about four hours a night at the most for the same reason, Belmont, unless that's escaped your notice. After you do something for that long, you don't really want to do it again.

[Alucard makes a polite attempt to look away as Trevor dresses himself, but in the end it's a bit too much of a disaster to not observe. Yes, there's worry about the stitches popping yet again, but...no it's mostly because the constant cursing makes it impossible not to watch.]

Please don't. Last night was about all I think I can take.

I don't pay that much attention to your sleeping habits.

[ He says that just a little defensively. Because he does, in fact, pay that much attention to Alucard's sleeping habits. Spent at least one night awake the whole time just to confirm that yes, he does in fact sleep during the night.

He's good at the vampire-killing thing, when he's sober. And most of that is information gathering. There isn't a lot about Alucard that he hasn't been paying attention to, just in case. ]

Belmont, forgive me when I say that old habits die hard and I don't believe a single word that just left your mouth.

[There's a smartass reply he doesn't give instead, because to say unless there's another reason you keep looking is too overly familiar and likely to be taken as badly as it might sound.

Besides, Alucard knows that he's still prey in Trevor's eyes. If they're still alive when all is said and done, Alucard's unsure if they'll clash. He's prepared for it, at the very least.]

Fine.

[ He looks up, and then as if he's reciting the lines of a play he's not particularly interested in. ]

First few days you didn't keep a sleep schedule. Now you copy Sypha's, but you sleep later and wake earlier. You sleep facing the door even when that means turning your back to me - which is fucking stupid, by the way. Animals don't wake you unless they're making an awful racket, creaking floorboards or the fire cracking too loud does. I'm fairly sure that you don't need the blankets, but you use them anyway. You're careful not to get tangled in them. You count the bricks of the inn walls to pass the time between when you wake up and when Sypha does, but you always run out of bricks too early. You sleep for about an hour longer if it's raining. You're a light sleeper but a heavy thinker, so the best time to put a stake in you wouldn't be when you're asleep but just before, around the first hour of the morning.

And you were hugging your pillow. Three nights ago.

[ ...so maybe he pays a lot of attention to Alucard's sleeping habits. ]

[There's a moment of real stunned silence, mostly because of the pillow detail. He should have figured out Trevor saw that one based on the side-eye he got that morning. A very not needed side-eye, the pillow was nice and didn't deserve to be put on the floor.

But that stunned silence becomes a surprisingly warm, albeit brief, laugh. Not because all of this is absolutely evidence that killing each other's still on the table, but because the only other option is to meet all the details for what they are.]

Knew it.

[And he says it so smugly that if Trevor's going to punch him, Alucard deserves it.]

I'm a shitty Belmont, but I'm still a fucking Belmont. And you're a shitty vampire, but you're still a fucking vampire. Of course I'm paying attention.

[ Why did he say he wasn't paying attention in the first place? In part to see if Alucard would call him on it but mostly because feigning disinterest is so much of a habit by now that he does it even when it's obviously not true. ]

And what's your final conclusion, all habits observed?

[It's an actual question. For Alucard, this alliance thing was a snap decision, not based on Trevor's skill alone but on Sypha's reaction to their fight. The other two already had each other figured out, and while it'd be wrong to call Sypha the Trevor-whisperer, there were points where it didn't fall off.

But he's not a Belmont for whom this entire thing is against every instinct. So it's worth knowing.]

My final conclusion about what? Your sleeping habits? How best to kill you? Whatever the fuck it is that distinguishes whatever the fuck you are from other vampires? I have a lot of final conclusions.

Pick one. Pick all of them. As you're fond of saying, [Fuck it, if he's gonna be an ass about this, he's going to do his best at the Trevor voice too:] I don't care.

Sleeping habits- you're a spoiled little princeling who's only ever left home to sleep under the stars for the fun of it before this. You've never shared a building with strangers before, and certainly never a room. You're expecting trouble of some sort - you're always sleeping between the door and Sypha and I. But probably not trouble of the your father variety, else you wouldn't be sleeping at all. Probably you've just heard the shit people say about Speakers. You're being protective.

[ He started out sounding disinterested, but his voice has taken on a teasing tone by the end of it. ]

As for killing you - you accept tea from Sypha, Sypha always sends me to fill the kettle. Holy water - we still have a few bottles of the stuff. Seems less risky than trying to stake you, asleep or not.

[Why it is tha Trevor seems to think princeling is a good or even accurate insult is beyond Alucard. There will be time later to pick at that, but that time isn't now. The rest is all too correct, and as Trevor talks Alucard just nods along. Trevor's never been an idiot, but the drunk mess that he is invites forgetting that particular fact.]

I think I said something about responsibility last night.

[Of course I'm being protective. But then it veers into this discussion, and now Alucard has to needle because there's something light and he wants to capitalize on it.]

You know, that's a miscalculated plan. Holy Water just makes me break out in a rash. The stake would be more effective but, when you think about it, just about anything dies if you impale the heart.

(for cryptsleeper)

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pm me if you want me to edit any of this! (or just assume trevor's got it wrong)

psh this is gr8.

'I don't really care about u' says trevor, then recites his entire thesis on the topic of alucard

i don't even have a witty response i'm just laughing too hard

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