Chapter Text
Alucard leads them to a secret hidden side door as opposed to the castle’s unnecessarily grand main entrance, but even going this way it’s clear Alucard has done nothing to the castle. In stark contrast to the earthworks and stone removal around the Belmont ruins, the dirt and trees the castle blasted out when Sypha dragged it here have barely been touched. Alucard has maybe taken some stone and a little earth to use in his project, but otherwise the place is as they left it.
Trevor glances at Sypha, and deduces by her worried look that they’ve both come to the exact same conclusion - Alucard’s avoiding the castle. It’s even more obvious once they get inside the place.
Alucard leads them through the trees to a pretty unassuming patch of what looks like sheet metal. He pauses, gives it a well-aimed kick, and waits patiently while there’s a series of clunks and gears start to grind. Trevor takes a step back.
After a minute or so, there’s a final clunk and a hidden hatch pops open - a real sally forth door - swinging inwards towards the castle. Alucard pushes it fully open and steps inside like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.
When he sees Sypha and Trevor are just staring in bafflement instead of following him, he just quips; ‘Don’t tell me you thought the castle only had the one door?’
‘I didn’t expect it to have a secret back door that you open by kicking it,’ says Sypha.
Alucard smiles, ushering them inside. ‘All good castles have to have a few secret passages and hidden entrances. It’s the rules.’
The passageway is a dark, bare stonework affair, with another door at the end. The exterior door swings shut on a spring, and they spend a few terrifying seconds in darkness before Alucard gets the second door open.
They step into one of the castle’s lavish, grand interior hallways, and the stale air hits them like a wall. Most of the castle’s lights are no longer working, but everywhere the great draping curtains have been thrown open, and sunlight streams in, lighting up every dust mote hanging in the still air. The whole castle is eerily silent, completely still and lifeless. Down the hall, Trevor can see rubble strewn across the floor from their brutal battle to defeat Dracula.
Alucard quickly leads them down the hall, like he can’t bear to be in this room for very long. He treads lightly like a cat, taking them up a flight of stairs to a stone hallway, then hanging a sharp left through a door to reveal the biggest fucking bathroom Trevor has ever seen in his life. Sypha gasps from behind him.
Frosted glass windows let in sunlight, revealing what seems like acres of blue and white ceramic tiles. Sheets of silk hanging from the ceiling to partition the space and give privacy. There are alcoves with wooden benches, set-in shelves packed with small mysterious bottles, jars, and brushes - but the thing that’s instantly caught Trevor’s eyes are the huge tiled bathtubs set into the floor. They’re all empty right now, but there’s several of them that he can see and they’re so big they need steps so you can get in and out safely.
When he looks up again, Alucard’s opened a metal hatch in one wall and is now elbows-deep in the hole it’s created. Trevor can see wires, copper pipes, and a lot of other metal components he doesn’t recognise.
There’s an enormous CLUNK from somewhere within the walls, making Trevor and Sypha jump, and then muffled gurgling from inside the walls. Alucard pads to the nearest sunken bath, and starts fiddling with a small metal pipework contraption that’s hanging over the lip of the tub. It makes a loud burp, and vomits up a constant blasting stream of steaming hot water.
Trevor stares at this casual miracle, watching as Sypha happily trots forward to examine it. ‘How do you make the water hot?’
Alucard gives them a wry, knowing look. ‘I will have to show you the mechanism some time. It’s perfectly safe - it’s like having our own hot spring.’
Sypha’s eyes gleam with excitement. ‘May we use your soap?’
Alucard gestures to the shelves of bottles and jars behind them. ‘You are welcome to everything here.’
Sypha makes a positively gleeful noise, unstrapping her sandals. Alucard looks back to Trevor, silky curls trailing over his shoulder as he takes his hair out.
Trevor can’t help but be extremely suspicious of this magic bathtub where hot water just appears from little pipes. By now, he knows that he can trust Alucard - but this is just a bit much.
He is fully expecting Alucard to give him another round of snide needling, but instead, the pretty dhampir just gives him an achingly soft smile. ‘Trevor, I promise it’s nothing but hot water. It’s just a fancy bath.’
By this point Sypha’s got her bare feet dipped in it, undoing the fastenings of her robe. She’s going to have that bath, weird pipe contraptions be damned. ‘I can confirm that it’s just clean hot water. Doesn’t even smell of anything.’
Sypha’s observation comforts Trevor a lot more than he’d like to admit. He moves forward, crouching by the edge of the sunken tub to examine it more closely.
It’s lovingly tiled with a shelf seat that runs around the inside, so you can really relax and fall asleep in your bath. The water might be coming out of a weird pipe thing, but it does just appear to be regular hot water, complete with tendrils of steam. The tub is already a quarter full, and humid, warm air against Trevor’s greasy dirt-caked skin is reminding him just how fucking long it’s been since he’s had even a half-decent wash.
Alucard and Sypha watch in bemusement as Trevor sits cross-legged on the edge of the tub and starts unstrapping one boot to dip his toe in the water - and both recoil in horror when he pops it off to reveal his sock.
Alucard dramatically screams right in Trevor’s ear, and Sypha makes a retching noise, both of which Trevor feels are unnecessary. His socks are pretty swampy, but considering the hoard of demons they’ve dispatched, they’re not that bad.
‘Trevor, how long have you had those socks on for?’ asks Sypha, fascinated and disgusted all at once.
‘Dunno. A month? Been too busy and poor for new socks.’
‘I think it’s rotting into his skin,’ says Alucard weakly. ‘Trevor, I want you to know that this is the most disgusted I have been with you so far.’
‘I could piss on you right now, if you want a justified reason to be disgusted,’ says Trevor flatly, peeling them off his feet. ‘You damn well know we didn’t have a laundress following us around.’
Sypha’s peering at his (admittedly squishy) socks, pulling off parts of her robes. ‘I think we can add these to your family bestiary. Put them in a glass case in the library.’
Trevor experimentally dabs a toe in the warm water. ‘Very fucking funny.’
Alucard is kicking off his own tall boots. ‘The real revelation is that the Belmonts have some kind of immunity to gangrene. How have your feet not rotted off?’
Sypha cuts off Trevor before he can tell Alucard where to stuff his boots. ‘Treffy, your feet look like little snowshoe rabbit paws - They're so pale!’
Trevor whips around to get mad at Sypha too, only to freeze up and feel his face go red because oh no, Sypha's slid into the bath and she's got nothing on. Automatically his eyes trace the graceful curve of her hips, her waist, up to her chest…
She catches his stunned stare and rolls her eyes at him, smiling. ‘Get the rest of your clothes off and get in the bath or I shall have to tease you some more.’
Alucard's escaped, the bastard, and wandered off towards one of the alcoves to retrieve some scrubbing brushes and washcloths. ‘I'm not not guaranteeing anything about stopping the teasing,’ he says idly.
Trevor looks down at himself to start fumbling with all the straps and buckles on his belts and harness, so he has an excuse not to look at Sypha. He knows without a doubt that he’s gone rose red. He had assumed that they’d split up so Sypha could have some privacy.
‘You, uh…’ Trevor’s trying not to sound like a complete fool. ‘Are you okay with us being here?’
Sypha’s already washing herself off with just her hands, rubbing to get rid of sticky sweat. ‘Course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Thought you might like some privacy,’ mumbles Trevor as he pulls off the leather harness over his head. God, he’s going to have to look up again soon. Why are both of his travelling companions so brilliant and beautiful? It’s unfair on a man to dumbfound him constantly.
Alucard plonks a box full of brushes and washcloths on the edge of the tub, before sitting down to pull off his own shirt. ‘Sypha, you’ve offended his delicate sensibilities with your exposed breasts.’
‘No she hasn’t!’ snaps Trevor, a bit too quickly. ‘She- I just wasn’t expecting it! She can do what she wants - I just thought we would set up a second tub-’
Trevor is cut off by an enormous splash of water that slaps Alucard right in the face, sending the dhampir jerking back with a yelp.
Sypha grins wolfishly. ‘Alucard, I am perfectly capable of teasing Trevor to death on my own.’
Alucard looks far more indignant than he has any right to be. With his pants soaked through and his long hair plastered to his face and shoulders, he looks like a bedraggled cat. Definitely some kind of drowned animal, and not an achingly handsome creature of the night with miles of pale, glistening wet skin.
There's a subtle shift in Alucard's face, as he realises he might have needled Trevor a bit much there. He opts to awkwardly slap Trevor on the shoulder as he gets up, murmuring; ‘Should probably get some soap to clean you with.’
Really it's just one more reason why Trevor wants to spontaneously combust, or die instantly, or leave - or fight Alucard to break up whatever stupid tension and feelings are happening. He’s all locked up with something, and frankly he doesn't want to examine it too closely. Doesn’t want to look at Alucard, really doesn’t want to look at Sypha.
Sypha splashes Trevor’s feet much more gently than she splashed Alucard. ‘Hey. Get in here and get clean, you grubby boy.’
‘You okay with that?’ mumbles Trevor, fiddling with his shirt.
‘Of course - I wouldn’t be in here otherwise.’ She grins wryly. ‘I promise I don’t bite.’
‘S’not what I’m worried about,’ mutters Trevor, tugging his shirt off over his head. ‘You just took me by surprise, is all. Thought you might want to bathe away from us stinky men.’
‘Nah. It’s you two - I’m not fussed. Also, I stink too!’
Trevor chuckles, throwing his shirt on top of his pile of shoes and other leather bits. ‘I wasn’t going to mention that part, but I had to wonder who’s armpits I was smelling at times back there.’
He’s very pointedly not looking at her as he gears himself up and slowly peels his pants off. It’s Sypha, he tells himself; she’s a tease, but she’s a friend, and she’s comfortable with him. That’s one of the reasons why he finds himself so fond of her, he guesses; she doesn’t put up with any of their shit, but unless you’re being really shit to her, she’ll never make you feel like shit.
Trevor throws his pants to the side, tries to ignore the feeling of vulnerability and his bare ass and balls on the cool tiles, and concentrates very hard on getting into the sunken tub safely so he doesn’t have to look at Sypha.
The sigh of relief and contentment as he slips into the waist-deep warm water is completely involuntary, and all embarrassment and tension is forgotten. It’s been years since he’s had a real, proper hot bath. He feels tension he didn’t even know he was holding ebb out of his body as he relaxes. Without even thinking about it, he takes a breath and crouches down in the deliciously warm water, submerging himself completely so he can wet his hair, scrubbing at his scalp with his fingertips. He can already feel crusted sweat, dirt, and blood starting to wash away. Pure luxury.
Trevor sits back on his haunches and straightens up, so his head is out of the water and he can breathe again, the air thick with steam. It feels wet to breathe in.
Sypha’s wandered over to do something to the pipe contraption, and now the water has stopped coming out of it, she’s got her hand resting on it and she’s looking wide-eyed at Trevor, like she’s forgotten what she was supposed to be doing. The moment she catches his eye, she looks away in a big hurry, fiddling with the pipework.
Trevor smiles slowly. ‘Sorry - did I offend your delicate sensibilities?’
She smacks the surface of the water and splashes Trevor, making the Belmont jerk away as he laughs. He wipes his face off and Sypha scowls, but there's no real anger in it.
Trevor’s no fool; he knows that somewhere along the way, he turned from a scraggly boy into a man who collects lingering looks from across pubs, across streets, while he does odd jobs as he passes through town. If he’s had to stay put for a few days, there’s often been someone who gets bold enough - women and men alike. He’s slept in a few beds that he didn’t pay for in coin. Maybe part of the attractiveness was that he was a stranger passing through, something exotic and dangerous - but he likes to think it was because he’s a handsome stranger, too.
Sypha’s easy company and the feeling of warm water on his dirty skin, of getting clean, makes him feel a bit bolder than usual. He lounges back on the tiled steps, languid and easy, the round curves of his shoulders and chest breaking the steaming surface of the water. His smile breaks into a grin as Sypha’s eyes begin to roam again, tracing the outline of his body under the water.
Then there’s the sound of a tiny ceramic pot shattering on the tiles, and the moment is gone, both of them looking up to follow the sound.
It came from where Alucard is standing, over by tiled shelves set into the walls. His bare back is towards them, and Trevor can see the knots of muscle, the tense line of his shoulders, how locked up he is. He’s holding a few small bottles and jars in each hand, knuckles white(er) with how tightly he’s gripping them. There’s little white ceramic shards and a splat of pink cream between his feet. His thick wet curls are falling over his face, shaking slightly as he trembles.
All flirtations are forgotten, and Trevor sits up so fast that his chest makes a bow wave. ‘Alucard?’
The dhampir doesn’t respond or move for a long moment. Trevor can hear Sypha wading forward towards the edge of the tub, the worry radiating off her.
When Alucard finally moves, it’s like he’s operating on a time delay. His face is crumpled with emotion, a crumbling barrier holding back a crushing tide.
He swallows thickly, struggling to get a handle on himself. ‘I–my Mother, we–the three of us–’ he closes his eyes, face trembling as he tilts his head. ‘This is the last batch we all made together.’
‘Oh, Alucard,’ exhales Sypha, her own voice cracking.
Trevor doesn’t even think, leaning over the edge of the tub and stretching out his arms.
Alucard comes over to them without looking up, hair covering his face, transferring the bottles to one hand so he can reach up and scrub his eyes. Trevor catched a brief glimpse of fangs barred in anguish, the bottles clattering as Alucard sets them down on the tiles just a bit too hard, slithering feet first into the water without even worrying that his trousers are still on.
Alucard buries himself in Trevor’s chest, and Trevor folds his arms tightly around him just Alucard lets out a bloodcurdling howl of anguish - a sound that goes on forever, for far longer than any human could scream. It’s a sound to make your chest clench in sorrow, your guts fill with ice.
Trevor remembers falling to his knees by scorched ruins and making a similar noise, many years ago.
Sypha doesn’t hesitate for a moment as she wades over to stretch her arms around both of them, and squeezes tightly. After long, agonising minutes, Alucard finally trails off, sagging limply into their embrace, his strangled sobs muffled against Trevor’s chest.
Trevor rests his hip against the tiled side of the tub, so he can better support the weight of both Alucard and Sypha at once. Sypha is gently smushing Alucard into Trevor’s chest, one hand splayed across Trevor’s ribs, as the the other strokes Alucard’s trembling arm. The dhampir’s own arms are tight around Trevor’s waist, fingertips digging into his skin. He turns his face so his cheek is pressed against Trevor’s sternum, his heavy wet curls over his face. Trevor can feel him shake with every sob.
The dam that Alucard had carefully built has finally, completely, broken open. He’s a shuddering mess, curled up tightly between them. The three of them stay like that for a while. Giving Alucard a space to safely fall apart.
It takes a while, but Alucard’s sobs eventually subside into ragged breaths, and eventually silence. He’s still and heavy against Trevor’s chest, curled up tightly. The hot bathwater and being pressed between them has made Alucard’s body warm to the touch.
Even with Trevor softening his voice to the smallest murmur, his words sound too damn loud in this fragile, still space, but he needs to say it. ‘We shouldn’t have left you, Alucard.’
Alucard swallows thickly, voice just as choked off. ‘You weren’t under any obligations to-’
Sypha cuts him off. ‘No, Trevor is right. I was enthusiastic about what the future might hold, and I didn’t stop to think of how you were doing.’
Trevor murmurs; ‘I should have thought of it. I know you’re a stone-faced bastard, but we were there.’
Alucard is silent for a long moment, which is fine - there’s no pressure to talk here. Nobody’s tried to get Trevor to open up or anything, so why would he try to make Alucard do that? Bottling up your emotions until you burst out screaming and crying is a much less awkward way to deal with it.
‘’M glad you both came back,’ murmurs Alucard into Trevor’s chest.
Trevor squeezes them both a little bit tighter, pressing his lips to the crown of Alucard’s head, suddenly needing to hold them both very close. Like he can protect them both from everything that dares make them sad, and squeeze the grief and misery out of Alucard. He’s not such an arse as to say “I know how you feel” - but he knows that losing your whole family is going to leave one hell of a mark.
Sypha rubs Alucard’s pale shoulder. ‘We got about halfway to my family when we realised that perhaps we should have stayed.’
Alucard protests softly; ‘No, that was important too. Your family had no idea if we were going to survive. You did the right thing. I’m glad they know you’re okay.’
Sypha gives him a gentle poke. ‘They were glad to know you and Trevor were okay too.’
Alucard grunts. ‘Okay enough, I suppose.’
‘Hmm?’ goes Sypha, snuggling in. It's a gentle invitation to continue, if he feels up to it.
Alucard is silent for long minutes, and Trevor thinks he might not respond at all. How do you even go about talking about something like this? Trevor wouldn’t know where to start. Plus it seems so damn painful. Much better to just bury it.
‘The castle is full of ghosts,’ whispers Alucard. ‘Everywhere I look… it’s another memory of them. Of the things we did together, here.’
He takes a deep shaking breath, burying his face into Trevor’s chest.
‘Sometimes there will be a moment where I forget what has happened, and then I remember what-’ his voice cracks off into silence. Trevor can feel him tremble in his arms.
Trevor cards his hand through Alucard's wet hair, bumping Sypha's fingers. Feeling the dhampir shiver, minutely but hard.
‘Alucard,’ murmurs Trevor. ‘You don't have to explain or justify how you grieve. I– there is never a good way to lose your family. You talk about this place being haunted - I wound up leaving the remains of the manor for similar reasons.’
Trevor tries to get his thoughts straight. ‘But I had nobody after that. God, nobody wants anything to do with an excommunicant, so it was always just me on my own. And it was fucking piss, let me tell you.’
He presses his cheek against Alucard's hair. ‘I just want us stay with you for a while. You do whatever you need to do - rebuild the entire godforsaken manor if you have to. Whatever helps you. But I want to be there for you. Promise not to be a cunt. Just want to be where you need me.’
There's a moment of silence and then Sypha adds a few quiet words. ‘I think I can agree wholesale with that.’
Alucard says nothing for a long time. Maybe he's digesting it - Trevor hopes so. That was stupidly hard to get out, but it must be all right if Sypha says it is.
‘Trevor,’ says Alucard at last. ‘That has to be the most kind and sensitive thing I have ever heard you say.’
‘I can just lean forward to dunk you under and drown you, Alucard,’ growls Trevor.
Sypha snorts. ‘Trevor I’m pretty sure that wasn’t an insult.’
Alucard chuckles, and a slender white hand snakes up to stroke Trevor’s hair. ‘My apologies if I offended you - I meant that in complete sincerely, you fucking idiot.’
‘Oh,’ says Trevor. The gentle warm fingers carding through his hair are making his scalp tingle, a honey-warm feeling oozing down through his head into his body. It’s thrown him more than he wants to admit. ‘You, uh… Alright.’
He feels Alucard sigh against his chest, the arm that isn’t in his hair squeezes him a little tighter. ‘Thank you, Trevor.’
‘Y’welcome.’
‘However, you do smell like a rotting horse corpse, and I think there’s a pebble in the cleft of my arse, so I would like to postpone this emotionally supportive cuddle session until after we’ve all managed to have a wash.’
Sypha lets go of them with a laugh. Trevor puts off examining the knot of emotions in his gut by kicking Alucard’s legs out from under him to dunk him. Alucard's hands whip out to get an iron grip on Trevor’s hair and waist and yank him down with him.
Trevor yelps, gets a mouthful of warm bathwater and comes up spluttering, water up his nose.
Alucard is already standing back up again, soaked hair streaming water and plastered to his face and chest - this whole bathtub situation is making everyone look unfairly, distractingly beautiful, but what really makes Trevor’s heart swell up against his ribs is that there’s a little sparkle in Alucard’s eyes again. He looks far more worn out now - the crying took a lot out of him - but the smile goes all the way to his eyes now.
The icy well has started to thaw. Trevor’s not stupid enough to think that Alucard is all better now, but that was an important start. The wound has started to scab over. Healing can happen. And most importantly, Alucard knows he isn’t alone in this.
Sypha’s voice breaks through his train of thought. ‘Alucard, we’re gonna need a lot more than a cream thing to clean Trevor off. You got about five bars of soap around here? And the stiffest scrubbing brush ever made?’
Alucard wades over to the edge of the tub, still smiling softly. ‘Let me see if I can rustle up something.’
Trevor pouts. ‘You’re all acting like I enjoy being dirty or something. I’m fully aware I smell like an open sewer. I’m loving being in this bath. Fuck you all.’
Alucard is climbing out, streaming water from his soaked pants. ‘We have a box of bar soap, but I believe most of it is lemon-scented, sorry.’
‘Oh it’s lemon scented! What a luxury. Most of the time I’m jumping in a fucking river, you know.’
Sypha laughs. ‘Alucard, literally anything you’ve got will do.’
Trevor drifts over to lean against the edge of the tub. ‘Let me get spoilt and pampered in here for a week and then I’ll start getting fussy about the scents of my soap.’
Alucard chuckles, that beautiful low velvety laugh of his. ‘Well, if you are staying for a while, I’m sure we can organise something.’
‘Of course we’re staying,’ exclaim Sypha and Trevor in unison.
Even with Alucard’s tendency to hide his feelings, you can see his beaming smile all the way across the room.