(for cryptsleeper)

[miraclewhip]

[ 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? ]

Comments

[cryptsleeper]

It'll only demand a minute. If that.

[A moment to apologize to the dead and to tap into just enough of the anger so that he is effective, but not to the point of no return. Of all the new terrors he has experienced, that is the worst of them because it is not yet past. Too many things in the future lie open, can twist and turn and morph until he's there.

He quiets, finally. A sign that Alucard thinks he can sleep for a few more hours, until the dawn comes and he is woken by it. Perhaps come morning he'll see if Sypha's spells can grant dreamless rest, so that they can all be the better for it. Waking up with night terrors (and that's what the right term for them is, not nightmares) cannot be a regular occurrence. Not right now. Not when sleep and rest and a sound mind are the tools they all need for success.]

[miraclewhip]

[ He's quiet for a few moments. Processing. Thinking (or at least, coming up with a response without doing so) usually comes quickly to him, but right now it is slow, deliberate, pushing the smell of burning out of his senses. He's been careful not to move Alucard too much over the last few days, even at the cost of being less close than they might otherwise be, but now he lifts and pulls Alucard over a little, so that his head is resting upon his chest. The way they sleep at home. ]

Not just her, this time. All of us live.

[ He's been saying a lot of un-trevor-like things over the last few days, but that might be the most un-trevor-like of them all. He will not be losing another family, and they will not be losing him. ]

Sleep well. Tomorrow's going to be shitty.

[cryptsleeper]

[The new configuration means that in spite of everything, Alucard finds it in him to tug Sypha along too. Her hand slips from his hair in sleep and settles around his arm instead, and it's better like this. She's still the furnace of the three of them, and her warmth makes the return to a familiar configuration even more comforting.

Alucard's eyes close when he's in an all too familiar place. Yes, this is his normal spot, and he'll take the pain of being shifted around in the morning for all it's worth.

He's not sure if Trevor can see the faint smile that ghosts over his lips at those words. That day in the wagon, that all too silent conversation that saw them really agree on something for the first time, that was a moment that Alucard came back to reflect on again and again. It was the first moment that it was clear to him all the concern, all the fussing about health and well being and being prepared to take what lay ahead was not about just destroying his father's plans for humanity, but real affection and adoration for the two.

Well, Sypha first. But that seemed to be true for both of them.]

Mm. But not as bad as it could be.

[Famous last words. But also a truth, because they've experienced the rockiest of rock bottoms already. Anywhere else is an upward leap.

But Alucard does sleep. He stays where he has been moved to for the whole night and into the dawn, when warmth comes not just from Trevor and Sypha but from the sun as well. He stirs only slightly, stays with his eyes closed, wanting to savor the little things they have already taken back. For surely this? This is one of them, one of their most important things.]