miraclewhip: after kicking in toilet. (Wallachia man floods strip club)
Trevor 'The Bear Situation' Belmont ([personal profile] miraclewhip) wrote2018-11-23 08:39 pm
Entry tags:

(for [personal profile] 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? ]
cryptsleeper: (A moment in thought)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Alucard's eyes go up to the shadows finally. Part of him seems to acknowledge Trevor is there, but he looks over Trevor's shoulder to see the patterns that play out on the wall. There's blood that splatters, there's so many impalements that never take. It's a horror to watch, and there's a weight to it too. Because there's a moment, a single moment, that it looks like his father has fallen, and for the life of him Alucard can't help but surge forward to try and do something. Anything. That's still his father.

But that vampiric shadow returns, it's fury greater than before, but the shadow of Leon is faster. Sharper. And there is a glint of real metal that is no longer just shadow that goes past Trevor's head.

There is impact.]
cryptsleeper: (A moment in thought)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
[There is nothing but blackness now. Dense. Thick. Not a tomb, but ever-so-close.

Then there is another screech. It is the one Alucard made when Carmilla threatened, but deeper and more sorrowful and somehow with even more rage in it. That shouldn't be possible. And yet it is, and the sound echoes in the thick muffled dark for what feels like a lifetime.

The weight of Alucard disappears from Trevor's arms. A flash of two red eyes in the darkness, and they do not linger on Trevor at all. He is nothing in those ancient eyes right now. The shadow only wants his son's body (and it's a corpse now, more surely than anything else), and God help whatever comes next.

It's the kind of hellscape that should cause any man to bolt upright in terror. The most that Alucard does is open his eyes and heave out a truly exhausted sigh, careful not to disturb Sypha, unaware that Trevor's witnessed the whole ordeal.]
cryptsleeper: (Sadpire)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
...Trevor?

[The name is whispered, dazed and unsure. Alucard struggles to pick up his head (the spell for sleep is a weighty thing, it must be to actually keep his light-sleep nature at bay.)

Then it all crashes against Alucard like a wave. He barely clocked that the dreams had a different texture to them than all the other times before. There was someone else there, there was someone witnessing all of that, and he does nothing more but lay where he is, utter shame and horror blossoming over his face. The things he's kept to himself to keep the other two from worrying. The horrorshow of it all. The guilt compiled from so many sources.

Fuck is right.]


...Your God. You shouldn't have had to witness that.
cryptsleeper: (A moment in thought)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
[He freezes. And that's a wrong reaction in so many ways because even in this horrible desperate days after this experience, Alucard has thrived on touch. Even in other night terrors, he's woken and has felt safter for the arms around him. But no one else has witnessed those, and this is...

...No. He forces himself to relax. Because they're both going to worry, and there's enough of that as it is. It's why none of this has been said. Night terrors just add to an already overflowing plate.]


Some of that isn't new. Don't worry.
cryptsleeper: (A moment in thought)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 03:19 am (UTC)(link)
You had other opinions on sturdiness a few nights ago.

[At the time, the comment had been to try and chase away all these awful things that rise at the back of the throat. Makes one gag. It is fair and right to try and do it again, but...no. It all falls flat, and after a moment, Alucard's trying to be flippant about it all. That's Trevor's thing, that's what he's good at. Never a skill Alucard's had.

There's a few moments of steadying oneself, and Alucard shifts where his hands are. Sypha's still caught one of them (it's threaded through her hair, he strokes it gently), and he rests the other on the lower part of Trevor's chest, right about the navel. On that much, he's okay.

As for the rest.]


Some of her. The rest...[Why did that have to be what was remembered? Easier to laugh off the appearance of Leon fucking Belmont because that death scene has played out for about a year in all it's variations.]

Guilt.
cryptsleeper: (Gold Steel)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
Direct quote. Vampire perspective is...tiresome.

[He actually rolls his eyes as he says it too, which means that Alucard is not just bullshitting for the sake of feelings.]

It gets petty after a time. I don't think your ancestors have ever really noted that.

[The hand underneath Trevor's stays very still, but it relaxes just an inch more. This isn't death, it isn't trying to prevent death, and that was one of the scariest points. He's died in dreams before, quite a few times. Fangs into Trevor's or Sypha's necks? Never. Not even for the sake of his own life.]
cryptsleeper: (Sunrises)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
They're old. They just squabble over the little insults. Beyond everything else that's known it's...that.

[Alucard treating it as a totally serious thing doesn't help the badmouthing urge either. His mother didn't want him overly exposed to other vampires as a child, and thus even as an adult, such interactions were limited. It was why humanity was easier to come by.

Wearily, Alucard shifts so that the whole of his face is pressed against Trevor's chest.]


You don't want to know the real one. [He's blocked it out.]
cryptsleeper: (Sunrises)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
[Alucard doesn't quite laugh at that but...well. He'll confess to something:]

He's been around a few times before. I think I've stirred that spirit by accident.

[This is so stupid. He knows it's irrational. But fuck it, this liminal twilight of fear and exhaustion needs just a moment of irrationality.]

I had to check a particular inscription on a stone in the crypt one morning. You were both so very exhausted, and I wanted a morning where you weren't making comments about my hair. [Because let's be clear: Alucard's sex hair is truly amazing.] But I had to go past that tomb, disheveled, stinking of you and all, and that spirit knew and has expressed displeasure ever since.
cryptsleeper: (Default)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
I did not say there was logic to it. Just...it is.

[There's more to it, even Trevor's likely to figure it out. Dracula's voice was in that horrid amalgamation of rage and blood. And it is so very unlike Alucard to be irrational.

But all of him relaxes as Trevor's fingers rub gently through his scalp. It feels good, but Alucard's always been soothed when he's curled up like this. The hand resting above Trevor's belly button moves, just a little bit up and over, and his thumb softly traces the scar from the first Trevor wound he ever had to sew up. In that stupid fucking wagon.

And in that moment, there's a sense of the familiar. Not in anyway else but the knowledge that this, the memory of it, it hasn't been made profane. That scar was trust, letting a vampire need an open wound, ignoring a lifetime of instinct. Whenever they were all a pile of limbs, Alucard pressed loving kisses to it, lingered, because that stupid scar was the beginning of so much. (Easier to name the scar that than his mother's death. Because all of this was from his mother's death.)]


Forgive me, but given everything I know of your family makes the statement sound false to my ears.
cryptsleeper: (Doing real research)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[Alucard lifts his face out of Trevor's chest just long enough to hold eye contact.]

A family of fucking librarians and you've never written this story down properly?

[There are other thoughts, thoughts about beginnings and book ends, but this one is...right. And mildly annoyed.]
cryptsleeper: (why are you like this)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
They have silver covers. I can't touch them.

[He also never, ever wanted to read them. Not for fear of a Belmont's loathing of Dracula, that much is actually expected. It's more what his father once was, the thing that he sometimes is in dreams, that scares him more. Alucard knows what his father once was, knows the stories, but there's a difference between reconciling a second or third hand account to the man versus one vivid, which is doubtlessly what is in those journals.]

Please tell me you're joking.
cryptsleeper: (...huh)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[Alucard closes his eyes again, and shifts just enough so that his chin is now resting on Trevor's chest. Just enough of a change. Just enough to show that he's processing this as only the group's designated Heavy Thinker can.]

So it all comes full circle, doesn't it? [In better times, he might let out a low laugh, acknowledging the full irony of the situation. But he is far too tired and this dream has let far too much out that Alucard cannot bring himself to do it.]

All for love. And all to begin anew.

[They're back where they started, after all. Piled together, everything broken, just a few injuries to bind them fast together, all odds against them.]
Edited 2018-12-04 23:24 (UTC)
cryptsleeper: (With blade)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2018-12-04 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I feel as if that's a great understatement.

[It isn't just fucked up. It's the parallels. Everything destroyed by fire, and by the same institution in both cases. Hersey. Witchcraft. Close enough offenses. Two idiot sons contending with legacy, and if not for Sypha, set adrift in opposite directions.

There's a careful effort Alucard puts in so not to disturb Sypha, and so not to make returning to his current position too terribly difficult. It has been a while since he's had to use this cramped angle, but muscle memory is an amazing things.

The sorts of kisses the three of them had shared have been usually soft and fleeting. Not scared, but unsure how much can be taken before there's pain or a need to be left to one's thoughts. Reminders that the others are there. So this one is too, but with the passion of earlier days, before all of this.

I know. And I love you.]