Chapter Text
Trevor’s always had mixed feelings about forests.
On the one hand, they’re usually devoid of people, and you can pass out under a tree without someone kicking you awake and telling you to move on. Sometimes you get lucky and find edible mushrooms, or other free food. Sometimes you get really lucky and there’s game - preferably caught in someone else’s snare.
On the other hand, roughly half of the beasties that could be found in the Belmont family Grimoire can also be found in forests.
Since Dracula’s hellbent vengeance upon the entirety of Wachalla, the odds of having a merry meet-up with one of those beasties has increased somewhat. But also since Dracula’s massive blowout, Trevor is no longer alone.
Right now, Trevor is contemplating the edge of a forest with his new (ish) company. Alucard on his left, squinting at the treeline as if he can will anything hiding out into the open, and Sypha on his right, hands tucked into her sleeves and head tilted thoughtfully.
They’ve been walking along a road running on the edge of the forest for about half of the day - and now there’s a T-junction. A wide dirt track with pretty significant cart-ruts leads into the forest. This isn’t some barely-visible forest trail.
The most tantalizing thing is a leaning wooden sign that once pointed into the forest, and reads “Sinore - 4 miles”
‘Well, it’s not a fairy forest,’ says Alucard.
‘If it was a fairy forest, we’d all be enchanted in a ditch hours ago,’ drawls Trevor. Several months on the road has not dulled Trevor’s urge to needle Alucard whenever possible.
Alucard gives him a dry look. ‘I’m tallying our options.’
‘Or stating the obvious.’
Sypha effortlessly cuts in sideways. Nipping their arguments in the bud is one of her many talents. ‘I’ve been to Sinore before - but we didn’t go through this forest last time. I’m not sure this road even existed then.’
Alucard leans to look at her. ‘It’s a logging town, isn’t it?’
‘It’s basically a logging camp that got too big and permanent to be a camp anymore,’ confirms Sypha.
Dappled light falls onto the path. The trees are widely-spaced - enough for a fair amount of underbrush, but Trevor can see quite a way into the forest from here. It looks normal enough. Suitably forest-like, no lingering sense of doom, no huge ominous cobwebs, no eerie silence. There’s the sounds of birds and insects calling, which is a good sign. Forests hiding bad magical things are usually silent.
‘If we go through the forest, it’s going to be an awful lot quicker than trying to walk around this,’ says Sypha. ‘I’m reasonably sure we’re going to have to go into mountain foothills to walk around this.’
‘I’m all for braving a forest,’ says Trevor. ‘We’ve been skirting it for a while and it’s not looking particularly cursed.’
Alucard glances sideways. ‘Why do only I get scolded for “stating the obvious”?’
Trevor starts walking towards the forest, namely so he doesn’t have to meet Alucard’s piercing golden stare. He tells himself that his heart flutters on eye contact because his family has been hunting Vampires for generations.
‘Because I like Sypha better than you,’ he says, not looking around. It’s not entirely a lie. Sypha makes his heart flutter sometimes too.
Sypha barks a laugh, and Alucard makes something that could possibly be a snort. Trevor didn’t think Alucard was physically capable of making such an ungraceful noise, and glances back over his shoulder.
There’s a tinge of hurt on Alucard’s face. In the corners of his eyes. Tightness in his lips.
Trevor mentally flails, feeling awful, and before he can clam up again, the words fall out. ‘I like you too.’
Alucard blinks. Sypha, the little shit, automatically glances back and forward between them, watching the whole interaction like a gleeful owl in the rafters of a mouse-plagued barn. A knot of flustered awkwardness at her sweet mischievous smile joins the rest of the feelings tying up his guts.
Trevor saves it by needling. Because any awkward situation can immediately be rectified by some degree of insult. ‘You’re much more fun to annoy, though.’
He turns back around and walks purposefully into the forest, so he doesn’t have to look at either of them anymore. He folds his arms tightly under his cloak. He knows Sypha relishes every tense moment between the hunter and the dhampyre, and he wants to stop seeing that little smile of hers.
He also doesn’t want to see Alucard’s face.
* * *
They walk in relative silence for about a half-hour, trailing in a loose line. Trevor first, Sypha in the middle, and Alucard bringing up the rear. Trevor is the one walking face-first into all the spiderwebs strung across the track. Thankfully, they are all normal sized - but that’s not much comfort when he’s scraping cobweb out of his hair.
The road is just leafy and gravelly enough for Trevor to be able to hear everyone’s footsteps, so he knows Sypha and Alucard are okay without having to look at either of them. It also means he hears Alucard (his footsteps are lighter than Sypha’s) slow down.
Sypha stops, turning a little with a shuffle of her speaker’s robes. ‘Alucard?’
Trevor looks around. Alucard’s glancing off into the middle distance, like he’s heard something. It means he probably has heard something. Alucard makes for a valuable early warning system.
Alucard exhales. ‘It’s nothing. I smell garlic, I think.’
‘...Are you allergic to garlic?’ ventures Trevor. ‘I don’t think you’ve actually told us.’
Alucard shifts subtly, becoming guarded. This is information that he only doles out on a need-to-know basis, as Trevor discovered early on. Trevor knows a sore spot when he sees one.
‘I am affected by it,’ says Alucard evenly. ‘If I come into contact with it, or there’s enough fumes, I’ll have problems.’
Trevor knows by now not to pry. He can tell Sypha’s curiosity is eating her up, but she’s keeping a handle on it.
‘Are you going to be able to keep going?’ asks Sypha. Trevor is a little proud of her restraint.
‘Unless we run into a field of it, I should be fine,’ says Alucard. ‘And if we do, I’ll find a way around it.’
Trevor nods. ‘If it gets too much, say something, and we’ll sort something out.’
Alucard gives him a tiny grateful smile, for not asking anymore beyond that.
Trevor hopes the sudden heat in his cheeks doesn’t mean they’re red.
* * *
They don’t get a chance to find out whether or not it’s too much for Alucard, because it starts getting dark fast, as it usually does in forests.
Sypha spots a clearing, just a little way from the road, and they have just enough time to collect some fallen branches and get a fire going before it gets too dark to do anything.
The clearing has been made by a fallen tree, and it’s such a recent fall that there’s still stones and soil in the knotty tangle of its roots. There’s a couple of brown leaves stubbornly clinging to its drooping branches. Trevor gives a branch an experimental tug, and it snaps off fairly cleanly. Easy firewood for the night.
The tree has been down long enough for some enterprising grass and tiny saplings to come up through the leaf litter - a dusting of green. Normally Trevor would just be glad it’s warm enough to sleep outside, but now, even through the tiredness, he can admire how pretty it is.
Sypha is sitting on the log, going through their packs, looking for their rations. She’s frowning in intensity, eyes flickering in the light of the fire Alucard is building. He’s found a few rocks to make a ring, and is carefully stacking larger sticks into the cone of flaming twigs. The fire is bright enough to make up a little of the fading light.
Alucard sits back with his hands on his knees, waiting for the fire to catch onto the new fuel he’s given it. He looks up and catches Trevor’s eye.
Trevor looks away, but Alucard’s already following his line of sight to the green fuzz in the clearing. He looks back to Trevor and gives him another of those tiny smiles.
‘It’s quite a picturesque spot, isn’t it?’ he murmurs, and glances to Sypha. ‘You chose a lovely spot for the night.’
Sypha doesn’t look up from her sorting in their packs. ‘Well, I’m glad the view is lovely, at least - because Trevor and I haven’t had anything to eat since those blackberry bushes we found in the ditch, and we’re down to a couple of dried fish.’
Trevor curses. Alucard can go for days without food, but Sypha’s looking beyond weary, and Trevor isn’t feeling so hot himself.
Sypha rubs her face, tired. Alucard looks worriedly back and forth between them, golden eyes catching the flickering light of the fire.
‘If you are willing to wait, I can go look for game,’ he offers.
Sypha looks up, very hopeful. ‘Really?’
Alucard nods. ‘I’ve been hearing birds and animals in the underbrush as we’ve been walking. I’m sure I can find something.’
Trevor sighs happily at the mere idea of fresh meat and a hot dinner. ‘I’d be eternally grateful if you could bring back a couple of rabbits.’
Alucard gives him another little smile, and Trevor thinks he might see a little twinkle in his eye as he stands to leave. ‘Would pigeons do?’
Trevor instantly goes in for another needle. ‘No - bring back two young rabbits, or I’ll have you beaten.’
Alucard serves it right back at him, eyes glittering. ‘If you want a rematch, Belmont, you can just ask.’
‘What, and lose days of travel because I’d have to carry you around after I’ve crippled you?’
‘You seem very sure you’ll win - here I am, thinking that you’re such a lightweight it’d be no trouble to carry you.’
A chunk of torn-off bark flies between them. ‘You can measure your cocks when Alucard comes back,’ says Sypha. ‘I swear, I’m leading this entire enterprise, and if I wasn’t here you’d be suggestively wrestling back in the blackberry bushes.’
Alucard makes a noise that could be an amused snort or a choke. Trevor splutters the only response he has; ‘You’re not leading this!’
‘When you guys start squaring off, all leadership duties default to me,’ says Sypha, in the flat tone of someone who’s saying inflammatory things to provoke others. ‘That’s how it goes.’
Alucard laughs - a little too loud to Trevor’s ears, like he’s trying to subtly kill this line of conversation dead before it can really get going. ‘Well, Sypha’s in charge until I get back.’
‘Fine, whatever,’ mutters Trevor. He’s a bit too flustered to come up with a witty retort right now. ‘Just come back with dinner. If you can.’ He adds.
‘I’ll try,’ says Alucard warmly.
Then, without another word, he launches himself at the trees, and vanishes from human sight.
* * *
Trevor’s pulled his boots off and is giving his socked feet a rub when Sypha decides Alucard is out of earshot.
‘You two are kind of adorable, you know,’ she says, tossing a stick on the fire.
Trevor doesn’t look up, but now his foot rub is an angry foot rub. ‘What?’
‘When we first started travelling, I was worried that all your insults would escalate to a proper brawl,’ said Sypha. She shrugged. ‘Don’t take that personally - you’re a Belmont, he’s a Dhampire, there’s a lot of tensions there. I was worried how you two would work that out.’
Trevor grunts, still not looking up, quietly worried about where this train of thought is going. Sypha is smart as a whip crack and always speaks, which is one of the things he really loves about her, but it also means she’ll find your weaknesses and more often than not start picking at them. Alucard’s hybrid nature is something she leaves alone - all of Trevor’s feelings are not.
He can hear the smile in Sypha’s voice. ‘I wasn’t expecting you two to just… start teasing each other? It’s as if you two were gearing up for a fight, weren’t expecting the other to be that decent of a person, and so just defaulted to telling each other that Trevor smells, and Alucard is too pretty. It’s like all the aggression had to go somewhere, but you realised you couldn’t actually fight, so you just pester each other.’
Trevor’s face feels hot, and he hunches into the thick fur draped across his shoulders, focusing very hard on rubbing every last smidge of discomfort out of his foot. ‘You make us sound like we’re a pair of idiot village girls.’
‘Village girls are smarter than you two. Village girls talk about their feelings. You’re a pair of idiot village boys.’
There’s a hot knot of… something, in his stomach. It feels like anger, but Trevor’s so intimately familiar with that emotion that he knows this is a different beast.
Sypha cuts off his train of thought before he can try and examine what it is. Her voice is gentle, and she nudges him with the toe of her thin boot.
‘That wasn’t meant to be a jab,’ she says. ‘Sorry. I’m just glad we all get along. If I have to break up your teasing occasionally - I’d much rather prefer that over breaking up an actual fight.’
He hears her shift off the log, settling next to him. It takes a minute for Trevor to pluck up the courage to look at her beautiful face, and while she’s smiling softly, she’s looking into the fire instead.
‘I’m just glad you both get along,’ she says. ‘That’s it.’
The firelight highlights the red in her chestnut hair - it gleams like like polished copper. It’s almost long enough to get in her eyes, falling into curls around her ears and down her neck. Trevor can feel himself blushing again, and he’s sincerely hoping she just keeps staring at the fire.
‘I’m glad we get along too,’ says Trevor finally. He knows she’s trying to make a situation where Trevor feels comfortable talking, and he gives in, working with her. She’s not as judgemental as Trevor instinctively thinks she’ll be. ‘I didn’t know how this was going to work, when we first started out… I’m used to travelling in hunting parties, but…” Trevor glanced upwards. ‘Well, I guess this is a hunting party, but I’ve never been in a hunting party with a Speaker or a Dhampyre.’
Sypha smiles that lovely smile. ‘Speakers are generally not ones for hiking into forests, armed to the teeth, to slay whatever’s been eating all the village goats.’
Trevor grins. ‘No, you are not.’
A hot coal tumbles between two stones. Trevor takes a stick next to him to nudge it back into the ring.
‘We can’t choose our parents,’ murmures Trevor. It feels like too much to say, but it leaks out anyway, because Sypha’s magical like that. ‘He might be a predator, but… he’s not his father. He wants to stop Dracula for the same reasons as us. This is unorthodox, but he hasn’t tried to kill me yet. This is definitely the longest period of time a Belmont has spent around a Vampire without him being attacked, so the least I can do is return the favour.’
Sypha gives him a sideways look, smiling wryly. ‘Sure - you’re barely tolerating each other.’
‘This is a working relationship,’ said Trevor evenly, stifling all flustered feelings.
‘Can barely stand the sight of each other.’
‘We’re just working together.’
‘S’why you’re fussing about him and this garlic he can smell, and he went into an unfamiliar forest puerly to see if he could find dinner for us two.’
Trevor gives her a sideways look, eyes narrowed. She stares back, not breaking eye contact as she toes off one boot, and gently pushes it into Trevor’s lap. That was not something Trevor was expecting, and he blinks.
‘Do you think you could have a working relationship with my foot, too?’ she says, deadpan.
Trevor snorts, hoping Sypha’s done with this line of conversation. He takes her foot gently, pressing his thumbs into her heel and making small circles.
‘That bruised sensation again?’ he asks.
‘Yeah - nothing new.’
‘Let me build you something for you to put your feet up on when you go to sleep. Helps drain the blood out. Easier than cutting your foot anyway.’
Sypha smiles wryly. ‘Speakers teach your family that?’
Trevor tilts his head. ‘Probably, come to think of it.’
She chuckles. She has such a sweet laugh.
* * *
Sypha lies back by the fire while Trevor rubs some of the aches out of her feet, and at some point their idle chatting trails off. The next time Trevor looks up, Sypha’s dozed off.
He gently pulls her boot back onto her foot, unbuckling the cape draped around his shoulders, bundling it into a makeshift pillow.
It’s a delicate operation to tuck it under her head, but he manages to do it without waking her. Sypha mumbles in her sleep, and curls up around the soft bundle.
She’s so young. Trevor forgets that when she’s awake - she’s so full of fire and steel, keeping him and Alucard in line, and incinerating anything that picks a fight with them… but she’s the youngest of them too. It still surprises Trevor, still catches him off guard, how small she is.
He’s got to make sure she survives this. There’s such a huge chance that they all might die - but out of the three of them, she’s the one who’s barely had the chance to live.
Trevor’s so wrapped up in that heavy, urgent thought, and the tightness in his chest, the feelings he doesn’t want to examine, that he only realises Alucard’s come back when he hears the telltale shfffff of the Dhampyre returning.
Trevor whips around, just in time to see Alucard seemingly materialise from thin air. He’s got two rabbits in one hand - already headless and dressed, the only thing left to do is cut off the hind legs that Alucard is carrying them by, and they can start on roasting them.
‘Sorry I took so long,’ he starts, and Trevor immediately shushes him, pointing to Sypha sleeping by the fire.
Alucard mouths “oh”, looking faintly guilty. He pads silently (too silently) to Trevor’s side, wordlessly handing him the rabbits.
They work in silence. Alucard carefully cuts green branches from the trees around them, being as quiet as he can as he builds a pair of roasting spits. Trevor finishes dressing the rabbits - Alucard’s done a great job already. All Trevor has to do is cut the remaining legs off and they’re ready to go.
He wonders why Alucard went to the trouble to dress both of them alone, when he could have easily come back and given one to Trevor. When he checks the neck to remove any dirt or twigs that might have stuck to the wound during travel, he finds the answer to that question.
Alucard’s cut hasn’t quite removed the large puncture wound on the neck. Very close though. If he’d cut a finger-width lower, he would have cut off that unmistakable bite mark.
‘Have you been feeding enough?’ asks Trevor bluntly, keeping his voice down.
‘Pardon?’ said Alucard, looking up from his spit-building.
‘I mean…’ Trevor’s never had to ask this question before, and it feels very uncomfortable on his tongue. ‘Have you been getting enough blood?’
Alucard stares at him for a long moment, seemingly taken aback. Trevor feels very awkward, but being a huge embarrassment has never stopped him before.
‘I’m getting enough,’ says Alucard at last.
‘From animals?’
Alucard hesitates for the briefest of moments, and in that moment Trevor knows for certain he’s about to hide something. ‘Mostly.’
‘So you’re getting some human blood too?’ ventures Trevor. He tries to be neutral about it, but it’s about as soft as dropping a brick off a roof.
This time, Alucard’s hesitation is much more obvious. He goes quite still, and it’s obvious from the flicker in his eyes that he’s weighing up how to respond to that, and the consequences thereof.
‘A little. As ethically as I can,’ he adds quickly. ‘Remember the bandits that tried to rob us? I had a little when you went to check Sypha was okay afterwards. Sometimes I can get a mouthful from any men passed out drunk in the towns we pass through.’
There’s a hard line running through Alucard’s shoulders. He’s ready for some kind of retaliation, expecting Trevor to attack or berate him for it.
‘You don’t have to hide it from us,’ says Trevor.
Alucard looks up, blinking in surprise. ‘I thought you wouldn’t approve.’
Trevor takes one of Alucard’s carefully-prepared spits, and starts threading it through one rabbit. ‘I’m not… completely comfortable with the idea, no. But you’ve gotta eat. I’d rather know you’re well-fed and in fighting shape, rather than you sparing my delicate sensibilities.’
Alucard smiles a rare smile, and there’s a note of relief in it. ‘I… frankly I didn’t think you’d be this comfortable with it.’
Trevor has to think for a moment to put his thoughts into words. He threads the second rabbit onto it’s spit as he does so. Specifically, he’s trying to think of words that won’t hurt Alucard’s feelings.
‘The idea of you feeding on humans still makes me uncomfortable,’ says Trevor at last. ‘But I know you’re not just murdering whatever hapless bastard we come across. You’re doing it with care and impunity. I’ve killed more than enough vampires that treat men as little more than future meals, but you’re not one of those.’ He wants to look up at Alucard to help drive the point home a bit, but he knows if he makes eye contact, he’ll lose the ability to speak so concisely. ‘The more time I spend with you, the more I understand how much you value human life, and how unlikely it’d be for you to drain someone dry. I… well, I trust you.’
Trevor risks a glance at Alucard, and sees the Vampire has gone very still, looking at Trevor with wide eyes. It’s hard to read the emotion on his face - it looks like shock, but it’s more complicated than that. Those pretty kiss-me-quick lips of his are parted slightly. Trevor can just see his fangs. The flickering firelight makes his pale eyelashes cast dancing shadows across his cheeks.
Alucard lowers his head, shaking it, seemingly lost for words. His golden curls sway, catching the light.
‘Thank you,’ he says at last. His voice is very soft, tremulous.
The situation is now way too much for Trevor to cope with, so he nods firmly and immediately changes the subject. ‘Can you still smell garlic? Is that still bothering you?’
Alucard smiles knowingly, seeing right through Trevor’s clumsy play, then lies back comfortably against the forest floor. ‘Everywhere. It’s enough to make me nauseous, but it’s not causing me any physical pain, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘Tell us if it gets to that point, eh?’
‘Of course. It’s probably just the bulbs in the ground, getting ready to flower. I didn’t see any actual flowers.’
‘Right. That’s good, I guess.’ Trevor tends the spits over the fire, turning the rabbit so it cooks evenly.
They slip into silence. It’s not as awkward a silence as it could be, muses Trevor - Alucard looks comfortable, at least. There’s a soft smile on his face, the kind that makes Trevor’s chest fill up with warm butterflies. Alucard, too, has a pretty smile.
‘I forget how much you care, sometimes,’ says Alucard. His voice is even lower and richer than usual. ‘You hide it under so many layers of rudeness and crude attitude, and what looks like dismissive despair… but the truth is Trevor Belmont has a heart so big it fills his whole chest.’
Trevor can feel his face going fever hot, his chest aching, and suddenly he’s fifteen again, tripping over his feet because a pretty girl in the village gave him a wry smile. Alucard’s giving him such a warm look that Trevor almost wilts.
Thankfully his smart mouth kicks in automatically, a completely unconscious action. ‘Are you accusing me of being a good man?’
Alucard gives a mischievous grin, scooting closer to him across the leafy forest floor. ‘I’m accusing you of being a very good man, underneath your carefully-cultivated exterior surface of filth.’
‘Oh, I’m filthy now?’
Alucard stops and settles in by his side - Trevor’s acutely aware of a part of him that’s disappointed Alucard doesn’t get closer than that.
‘You are our extremely disgusting friend,’ says Alucard, with a great fondness in his voice. ‘And when we get to a town, and we have some money, we’ll get a bath organised for you. And just for a little while, you can relax, and let us look after you.’
Trevor can feel a bead of sweat run down the nape of his neck, and his smart mouth has abandoned him - but there’s no pressure to say anything. That much is clear on Alucard’s warm, smiling face - but Trevor can see shyness there too. They’re both keenly aware of how far outside their agreed comfort zone they are, how far into no-mans-land they’ve gone, how far they’ve strayed from their usual dance, how close they found themselves.
The moment is as fragile as a soap bubble. Trevor’s afraid to move an inch, in case he somehow ruins whatever’s happening. There’s a whole different collection of emotions in Alucard’s big gold eyes. Fear and hope and something Trevor can’t quite identify, in equal amounts.
‘Izzat rabbit?’ says Sypha.
Trevor and Alucard spook so hard they bump shoulders. Alucard’s touch tingles against Trevor’s skin, even through their clothes.
Sypha all but slithers over to them. ‘You could have woken me up to help!’
‘You were asleep,’ says Trevor, blinking a few times to try and get himself back from whatever just happened. ‘Was a two person job, anyway - no point in waking you after such a long day anyway. Better for you to get some sleep while you can.’
She flops and pulls them both into a sleepy, warm hug, making their heads clonk together. She’s not fully awake, which is good, because she won’t notice Trevor being flustered again. That’s happening a lot tonight.
‘Thank you, guys,’ mumbles Sypha.
Trevor feels Alucard shift, wrapping an arm around Sypha. A long curl tickles against Trevor’s neck, and he feels Alucard’s hand against his arm, over Sypha’s warm back.
Trevor’s throat closes over, and for the first time in years, it feels like maybe life isn’t complete and total shit.
* * *
The rabbits are roasted by the time Sypha decides she’s had enough lounging on them.
Trevor and Sypha devour them in silence. Trevor hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he’d taken that first bite, and now he’s tearing chunks off the spit like he’s the mangy dog that lives behind every tavern ever built. The only thing stopping Sypha from being quite so sloppy, fast, and gross as Trevor is that she’s not blessed with Trevor’s giant shovel mouth.
If this was happening a few weeks ago, Trevor would expect Alucard to look some form of disgusted. Right now, though, there’s warm fondness on his face. The tenderness cuts straight through to Trevor’s core. He wonders if Alucard’s feeling that same sudden raw feeling of of belonging that Trevor just had.
When Alucard speaks, his voice is soft like a touch to the face. ‘I can take first watch tonight. You guys sleep for a while - you’ll feel better with a few hours rest and full bellies.’
Sypha has reduced her rabbit to a skeleton, and is currently chewing the cartilage off its leg bones. ‘I can take second watch, if you like.’
Trevor gives her a side eye. ‘You should get a full night’s sleep - I’ll take second watch.’
Sypha’s eyes narrow and she’s fully ready to steamroll Trevor, but Alucard beats them both to the punch. ‘How about I wake up whoever looks the most recovered when it’s time to change over?’ Under his breath, he added; ‘That’s if I can even sleep in this stink.’
Sypha and Trevor are both giving each other the side eye, but it’s a good compromise. Difficult to argue with. Stupid Alucard, being good at mediating as well as unnecessarily pretty.
‘The garlic stink?’ clarifies Sypha.
Alucard sighs, grumbling. He’s pretty even when he’s peeved. ‘Yes. It’s not enough to do damage to me, don’t worry - but it’s deeply unpleasant.’
‘Is it still making you nauseous?’ ventures Trevor.
Alucard waves him off. ‘I’m not ill. It’s just uncomfortable. I’m not going to throw up on your boots.’
‘Oh noooo, not my boots,’ says Trevor dramatically. ‘You’ll destroy the crust of dog shit.’
Alucard snickers, Sypha barking out a laugh. She’s still got Trevor’s battered white fur, and she bundles it up into a pillow again, before curling into her robe, next to the fire. Trevor’s making do with the ragged fabric part of his cloak, folding an arm under his head so he’s not lying straight on the ground. There’s a lot of leaves and loam here, and the ground is relatively soft - Trevor’s slept on worse.
Alucard takes up his position on the log next to the fire, sitting cross-legged, one hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes catch Trevor’s gaze, and he peers owlishly down at him.
Trevor gives him a sleepy smile, before he can really think about what he’s doing. There’s a little flash of delight when Alucard gives him an equally fond smile back.
Trevor uses his other hand to bury his face in his cloak, under the guise of going to sleep, before he does anything else stupid and sappy.
* * *
Trevor’s first sign that something’s wrong is that the sun is above the horizon.
He blinks and squints at the pale dawn sky. The sun is just high enough for its light to peek over the treetops, and into their clearing. Birds are calling in the dawn chorus - a sure sign the day has begun.
And he can smell a lot of garlic.
Trevor rolls over stiffly, blinking sleep from his eyes. For a brief moment, he thinks he’s woken up in a proper Belmont hunting camp, with their regular cook, who insisted on using a disgusting amount of garlic in every meal he cooked.
Then Trevor sees the carpet of finger-thick green shoots just starting to push through the loam. Some kind of bulb. They’re all over the clearing - they must be throughout the forest. A few have a tiny flash of blue between the bundled leaves, like bluebells - only they’re not bluebells. Trevor’s smelled and handled enough garlic in his life to recognise it, even if it’s not a variety he’s familiar with.
Trevor muzzily puzzles over daylight and garlic shoots, until further parts of his brain wake up and things click into place.
Nobody woke him up to do his watch, and he slept through the night. The garlic stink is so strong that even his puny human nose can smell it now.
He sits bolt upright, sloughing off his cloak and the damp leaves stuck to it. ‘Alucard?’
No response, save the birds in the trees. The fire has burned down to ashes and a few glowing embers. Sypha is still curled up next to it - all that’s visible of her is her soft auburn curls poking out from where she’s retreated into her speaker robes.
Alucard isn’t on the log. He’s not anywhere to be seen.
Trevor scrambles to his feet, automatically on high alert. No amount of living rough could destroy that fast Belmont reaction in a crisis.
Over the log, there’s golden curls spooled out in the leaves.
Trevor rushes over, kicking a leg up to swing over the log, and the sight is horrible.
At some point during the night, Alucard fell off the log and never got up again. Judging by his contorted sprawl, he had some kind of fit, or an attack, or a seizure. His legs and body are twisted, leaves kicked up around him. His arms are curled up hard by his sides, like a corpse twisted up by a house fire. His sword is still sheathed, and there’s no blood.
His eyes are puffy, red-rimmed, and rolled back into his head, so only the bloodshot whites are showing. His jaw is locked open, fangs elongated. Fully extended, they’re the length of Trevor’s fingers.
Someone screams Alucard’s name, and it takes Trevor a minute to realise that was himself, screaming.
He’s on his knees and pulling Alucard into his arms before he can really think about what he’s doing. Alucard is stiff and cold, like a day-old corpse, and for a horrible second Trevor thinks he’s died in the night.
He presses his ear to Alucard’s chest, listening for a heartbeat, before realising that he’s not even sure if Alucard has one of those. Then a horrible rattle goes through the Dhampyre’s chest, the knotted scar tissue on his chest pressing into Trevor’s ear, and Trevor hears himself cry out in relief.
Alucard takes another gurgling breath, twisting in Trevor’s arms. The movement is unnatural, and involuntary - hands curling into claws again, spine arching as his heels dig in the loam. A full-body shudder. His eyelids flicker, but his eyes are still rolled all the way back.
There’s an explosion of leaves as Sypha skids to a halt in front of Trevor. She’s wide-eyed, hair plastered flat on one side of her head, with a few errant leaves tangled in it.
‘The garlic?’ she says, voice trembling.
‘Yeah,’ says Trevor thickly. ‘I think so. I don’t know what else it could be. We’ve gotta get him out of here.’
Sypha stands up, scanning the edge of the clearing. Trevor’s trying to do the maths on how far they walked yesterday, and how quickly he could run that distance carrying Alucard. Blindly trying to calculate how quickly he could get Alucard away from danger.
Sypha points firmly, further down the road they were following yesterday, on top of the situation despite still waking up. ‘I can see daylight that way. Come on.’
She grabs Trevor’s fur and cloak off the forest floor and ploughs towards the road, looking back to check Trevor is following.
Trevor pulls Alucard closer against his body, getting one arm under his slender knees, and the other under his shoulders. Alucard is still oddly stiff, and twitching involuntarily, but there’s a weakness in his muscles that suggests that he’s been convulsing and shuddering all night. Trevor feels a sudden clench of guilt in his chest, for sleeping through Alucard’s suffering.
Trevor stands carefully, trying not to jostle Alucard. Trevor manages to lay Alucard’s head so it’s resting against his shoulder, with his clammy forehead leaning against Trevor’s neck. Trevor walked briskly after after Sypha, trying hard not to jostle Alucard, to give him a smooth ride.
Alucard makes a weak, breathy noise - barely flexing his vocal cords. It was hard to tell if it was him attempting to speak, or it was an involuntary sound.
Trevor presses his lips to the crown of Alucard’s hair, before he could think about it. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t push on and get out. I didn’t know this was going to happen… we’re going to get you out of here, alright? It’s going to be alright. You’re going to be okay.’
Alucard shudders, making the breathy noise again.