Chapter Text
"I know," he began, his arms hugging his legs closely to his chest; eyes staring into the lovely artificial eyes he's spent countless hours looking into, "I haven't done this since Mavis got married, but..." somehow, it wasn't the same. The eyecolor was the same, and the expression was just as warm as the real thing, he remembered. And oh, he remembered. But the painting lacked... that certain something her eyes had once held -- beautiful, drawing him in like a magnet and wrapping his heart in a much needed gentle embrace.
The room was dark; not even candles had been lit, and yet Dracula could see perfectly. His eyes glowed a faint hue of blue in the pitch-blackness of the room as he sat uncomfortably on the floor, talking to someone who wasn't really there.
"... But I just had to say something. I uh. I met -- someone." Inwardly, he winced a little; glanced downwards. "Mavy thought it'd be a good idea for us to go out on vacation for once -- and well, as you could imagine, I wasn't really that excited at first. But it was kind of fun, I guess. We went out on this -- cruise ship." A pause, his pale lips twitched. "I know; me, on a boat. Yes, that's... very funny, Martha," the last part was said more quietly, a dull and persistent pain creeping into his chest.
"I zinged," he blurted out after a long silence had passed, and somehow, he felt a weigh being lifted off his shoulders. "With the captain. Her name is... Ericka. Ericka Van Helsing." Dracula frowned. "Yes, I know how that sounds -- that man was crazy. He's still alive, by the way. Somehow. But she's... nice. And no, she's not going to hurt me, I'm fine.
"She's very kind and clever. Mavis and her are getting along pretty well. But -- don't get me wrong, honey. I... I still miss you a lot. I just had to -- move on. Frank said it wasn't good for me, so I tried. It didn't feel as bad as I'd thought -- taking off the... our wedding ring. It's been a very long time, and it wasn't making me feel any good." A long sigh escaped from inside his lungs. "I'm... I'm sorry. But I'm sure you would've wanted me to be happy. Wouldn't you?
"He tried to kill us in Atlantis -- her great-grandfather. Almost succeeded, until she saved me. She saved all of us; monsters. And... yeah, Johnny did, too." A ghost of a smile made its way onto his facial features, and the vampire shook his head. "Mavis is very happy with him; oh, you would be so proud of her. She's grown up so much, our little baby.
"Oh, I'm a grandfather now! I forgot to tell. We are... both grandparents, darling. His name is Dennis. He has all this -- red curly hair on his little head, just like his own dad. But he's a vampire. Not that it matters, of course, but he got his fangs on his fifth birthday! He's the sweetest kid." His smile had widened tenfold, to the point he was actually grinning now; his long fangs peeking from behind his lips.
Then, a noise.
His sensitive ears picked up a barely noticeable sound coming from the closed door a few metres away from where he sat. His smile fell, and his brows furrowed into a frown, his head cocking to one side in curiosity and in order to hear better.
----------
Outside, Ericka was feeling conflicted; her small hand covered her mouth as she tried to carefully listen in to what her boyfriend (was that the correct term?) spoke to his deceased wife. A cocktail of emotions swirled in the pit of her stomach: jealousy, sadness, pity, guilt.
What should she do? Should she dare say something? The human wondered if Drac could even hear her breathing from out here, for what something all these years of studying his kind had taught her, was that their senses were much more developed than hers. But maybe not.
Wait, why had he suddenly gone so quiet again?
The wooden door creaked open, and a very confused Count looked at her from inside the room; his hand holding said door open.
"Oh, uh. Hey."
"Hello." What was she doing out here? Had she been listening in? "What -- What are you doing here, my love?"
"I was just... Sorry. This isn't -- This isn't what it looks like."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I mean," she interjected, "it... Maybe it is, but I couldn't help it. I'm... sorry, Drac. I got worried."
The vampire's expression softened. "I'm fine, don't worry. I was only..."
"Oh no, you don't have to explain yourself. Just... do you want some company?" He shouldn't sulk on his own like this, it wasn't healthy.
"... I don't know."
She frowned, a little rejected. "Ah, Okay."
"Okay?"
"I mean -- if you'd rather -- instead spend time with --" She outright winced. That sounded horrible. She was awful.
Ouch. "No, no. I just need some alone time, I promise." He shifted a little on his spot, awkwardly. "It's... not -- Ericka. My wife... Martha. You and her -- What you and I have is not the same. From what she and I had. I know we haven't talked about this, but... maybe we should."
She nodded, agreeing with him. "Yeah."
"But not now. I'm..." Dracula glanced away. Why was it so hard to put his thoughts into words sometimes?
"It's fine," she reassured him softly, placing a hand over his chest, his heart beating slowly but strong under her fingertips. "We can talk later. But... are you sure you want to --"
"No. You can come in."
She blinked up at him, quite surprised. "All right."
The first thing Ericka noticed once the door had closed behind her, was the darkness -- but that soon changed when, with a graceful wave of his own hand, a couple of candles got magically lit. Her eyes landed on the huge painting that hung from the wall, and slowly, she approached it, filled to the brim with curiosity.
A long hand placed itself on her shoulder -- Drac's hand -- and she looked up at him.
"We were together for a very long time. Almost three-hundred years. Martha was... my soulmate. She was my everything."
Some jealousy bubbled up inside her chest again, which she unsuccessfully tried to drown. Unfortunately, he glanced down at her right then.
"But you're my soulmate as well. Don't ever doubt that," he added softly, blue eyes linked with hers. "I love you."
She smiled.
"What was her favorite color?"
"Uh. What?"
"Her favorite color?"
"Oh. Red. It was deep red." Dracula glanced away from her, breaking eye contact; but this time she didn't mind.
Her smile grew, instead, and her eyes met the painting's once again. "My great-grandfather likes blue."
"Hrm."
"I know he's kind of... you know. But he's my family too."
The vampire chuckled lightly. "That's how I feel about my father. He can really be a bit too much sometimes. And no one can get on my nerves like he can. It's pretty impressive, really."
"Hah. Well, maybe all four of us are trying our best now."
"I hope so -- he's still annoying."
"Who, your father, or my great-grandfather?"
A thoughful little hum. "Both."
Ericka laughed, and he held her closer.