Title: The Living Years
Author: bnomiko
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Trevor + Sypha + Alucard, Dracula + Lisa
Spoilers: post S4
Disclaimer: "The Living Years" is performed and recorded by Mike + The Mechanics. Castlevania is the creation and property of Konami. Castlevania (animated series) is the creation and property of Netflix. This is a not-for-profit fanwork and I do not own any of these characters.
Summary: Vlad Tepes, formerly known as Dracula, utilizes a distance mirror in hopes of reconnecting and reconciling with his estranged son. But while a lot can change in four and a half years, like marital status and children... other things can stagnate, like the physical and emotional scars left behind by grief and a moment's rage. Post S4 animation canon based.
Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/

* * *

The Living Years

Ch. 4: Oh, crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought

* * *

After helping his lovers to bed, the brunet went and checked on the children in their room diagonally across the hall. Ann was sound asleep, her brother having managed to haul her up onto her bed, penning her in with stuffed toys, but Frediric was still awake and practically shoved his blanket aside to spring out of bed in greeting.

"I told Mama your message but she went to find you anyway," Frediric half-whispered while hugging one of his dad's legs.

"Yeah, I know. She's gonna do what she wants," Trevor quietly returned with a lopsided smile as he began hobbling over to Ann's bed with his son still attached to the limb. After moving some of the toys away so she wasn't smooshed in and making sure she was covered up adequately, he dragged himself and Frediric over to the other bed in the room.

"Everybody's okay?" Frediric asked solemnly as Trevor lifted the sheets and tossed his head to indicate the boy should climb back in, which he did with some reluctance. He pouted as he got tucked in, wriggling his arms free. "But I'm not tired..."

"Mama and Papa are tired, so I want to go to bed with them too."

"Everybody's okay?" the child repeated, and the hunter realized he wasn't going to get out of it so easily. Besides, he was proud that his son was so observant and wanted to encourage that, so he sat down on the edge of the bed and thought of how to best explain things.

"Yeah, mostly. Papa's a little sad, so please be patient with him."

"Why's he sad?"

"The man you talked to, in the mirror... do you remember the stories I told you about how Mama, Papa and I met because we had to stop the king of vampires from doing bad things? Well, that was him; that was Dracula."

Frediric's eyes widened. "Dracula" in his mind was a fiend fifty feet tall, with an aura black as smoke, many rows of jagged teeth, talons like an eagle, a snake-like tongue, and fire coming from his eyes. That wasn't the man he'd talked to at all! "But you said you beat him!"

"We did! But he came back." Trevor shrugged, as he didn't get much of an answer as to what had caused that to happen.

"And Papa's sad because he came back?"

"Well, here's the thing..." And the brunet sighed heavily. "What we hadn't told you before is, Dracula is also Adrian's father."

Frediric blinked, and then again, with a little head tilt. Trevor couldn't help but smile briefly; it was very much a habit picked up from Adrian. "Papa's papa is Dracula?"

"Yes."

"... Grandpapa?"

"Oh God no," Trevor moaned, shaking his head. "Definitely not! He's just Adrian's dad, that's all. ... Hmm, let me show you something. I'll be right back." Trevor hurried out of the room and returned a minute later with a framed painting, which he held up. "You remember seeing this on the wall before?"

"That's Dracula?" asked Frediric, his eyes zeroing in on the pale man in the upper right.

"That's right. Do you know who this baby is?"

The child shook his head. He'd seen the painting in the family room for as long as he could remember. Because it was always there, he'd never asked, and no one had mentioned, who the people in it were.

"... It's Adrian, when he was little."

Frediric was dumbfounded. "Papa was a baby?" he squawked, staring at the curly-haired, doll-like infant.

Trevor chuckled at the question. "We all were at one point. Then, we grew up."

The child churned that around in his head. He didn't understand how that worked. The whole situation was confusing. Dracula was a very bad man, a scary man. But he had asked nicely for Frediric to go get his papa. And in the painting, he was smiling faintly, just as he had when he'd greeted Frediric... his clawed hand carefully resting on the baby's arm. Frediric hadn't noticed the claws before. He hadn't been scared of him at all... but now he wondered if he should've been. "And Papa wasn't happy to see him?" he tried, grasping at straws.

"I think... it's a little hard to explain. Maybe part of him was happy to see him. But they had to fight each other. That made Adrian sad. But he had to do it, to protect everybody. So he feels bad when he thinks about that."

Frediric just stared blankly at his father. None of it made any sense. Papa was sad and happy and felt bad too? And why would Papa fight his own papa?

Trevor could see how puzzled his son was. He had figured this would all go right over the kid's head, but even if he were speaking to another adult, it'd be hard to explain. Hell, he was still having a hard time accepting that he'd just sat in on a conversation with his clan's mortal enemy... who also happened to be his husband's father. Argh, why the fuck does this have to be complicated?! It wasn't like he'd ever forgotten that... except it hadn't been an issue when Vlad was dead. Presumed dead. Now it was all back in the forefront again, where it didn't need to be, because it didn't matter who or what Adrian's father was. Except now Vlad was going to contact them again, because of Adrian. "Sorry, it's confusing, isn't it?" Trevor asked, half talking to himself. He took one last glance down at the portrait, then tucked it under his arm.

The boy slowly nodded.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe." Trevor leaned down to brush a kiss over Frediric's unruly hair. "And thank you for taking care of Ann, too. You did well."

The praise earned a wide grin from the four-year-old, and he quickly reached up to pat his father's bristly cheek. "You too," he said solemnly.

"Heh. Thanks, Little Man."

"Good night, Treffy?"

"Yup. Good night."

After blowing out the bedside lamp and double checking that there was enough wood to keep the children warm through the evening, Trevor went and returned the painting to its spot on the wall, then slipped back into his own bedroom, hoping Adrian and Sypha had fallen asleep without issue. Sypha was lying on her side, pillows folded and mashed here and there, her breathing heavy but even. Adrian was wrapped around her back, his face a bit drawn, but his breaths came at a soft whisper as well. A little relieved, Trevor ditched his clothes and slid into bed as quietly as he could, scooting over until he was just behind Adrian, then carefully placing an arm just below his lover's so he wouldn't accidentally wake him, before closing his eyes. It'd be nice if they could stay like that until morning, but Trevor wasn't counting on it.

* * *

Adrian thrashing about in the throes of a nightmare was about the only predictable part of the evening. Trevor awoke almost immediately to find the other man clawing at himself in his sleep, like he was trying to tear his own heart out of his chest.

"Adrian, stop!" he called out in alarm, grabbing at his wrists.

The blond whimpered, twisting and wrenching himself free, before he suddenly sat up with a gasp. His hands reflexively went to clutch at his chest; his nightshirt was already speckled with blood and the fabric was torn in spots.

The commotion woke Sypha too; she made a startled, befuddled sound, before rolling over with effort and rubbing at her eyes. "Huh? What?"

"Jesus Christ," Trevor murmured, already wrapping an arm around Adrian's shuddering form. "Sypha, can I get a light?"

Sypha's face scrunched up as she processed the request but seconds later a small ball of light was conjured above the bed, illuminating the confusion and worry on her face. With a grunt, she began pushing herself up into a sitting position to join her partners. Adrian reached out automatically to help her, letting her brace herself against him as she moved about until she was comfortably situated.

With their wife steadied, Adrian turned back to Trevor. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a little thin, as Trevor untied the laces and began tugging down the neckline of his garment.

"Just want to make sure you're okay." Broad, nimble fingers joined concerned blue eyes as they searched the area around the large scar for any sign of additional damage. Trevor frowned at the multiple furrows there: some shallow abrasions, others gouges deep enough to tear through the skin, allowing blood to well up.

"Oh, Adrian..." Sypha gasped, adding a second magical light so she could get a better look from her vantage point.

The blond glanced down and sighed. "I don't know why you're worried. I can fix it in a moment," he said dully.

"But you haven't. And the cuts are the least of my worries," Trevor responded.

"Adrian, talk to us," Sypha pleaded, rubbing at his left arm.

The half-vampire shivered, then listed to the right, landing against Trevor's torso as he turned his head into his partner's neck. "I... still don't know what to think. It... doesn't seem real."

Trevor gently folded him into a hug, then shifted forward a bit so he could place a hand on Sypha's thigh, completing their imperfect circle. "Yeah. It still sounds crazy to me, and we were there too. I couldn't even imagine if something like that..." He trailed off, scoffing at the impossibility of his own inconceivable dream.

Adrian picked up on what was left unsaid. "I'm sorry. Maybe it would've been better, if that's what happened instead."

"Yeah, well... at the very least, you got to see your mother again."

Adrian's lips trembled against Trevor's neck. "I made her sad, didn't I? I disappointed her," he muttered.

"No," Sypha said with conviction, awake enough now to kick in with her perspective. "She said she was disappointed that you and your father hadn't grieved together and supported one other. She very clearly said she was NOT disappointed in you." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles gently.

Golden eyes flicked in her direction, swimming with confusion and sadness. "Then why wait four years?"

"... I don't know. I wish I had the answer for you," she sighed. "Maybe you'll need to shake the answer out of them next time."

"I can only surmise... they did not wish to see me," Adrian continued. "My father may have wounded me, but in the end, I killed him. One is more forgivable than the other..."

"Bullshit - what he initiated was unforgivable!" Trevor growled.

The half-vampire pulled back, a little startled by his husband's adamant statement. "Well... to be fair, I still was the one that caused the initial conflict between us. I heard him making his threats, his plans, and decided to confront him," he said with a heavy sigh.

Trevor gave him a hard stare; Sypha merely twitched an eyebrow, urging him to go on. Adrian looked between the two of them, and clarified, "My intention was to talk. I'd thought... I'd hoped, he'd listen. I did have my sword at my hip..." and another tired sigh, "but no, I never drew it."

"So yeah, bit of an overreaction to tear into you, then," Trevor grumbled.

"... But he didn't kill me, even though he easily could have. And my mother seems to have forgiven him just fine. Or, perhaps he never told her about it."

"She knew. I saw her eyes. She looked at your scar and didn't raise a brow, didn't flinch. She knew it was there, and why," the brunet said, his hackles rising again.

"Oh..." Adrian sighed yet again and rubbed rather absentmindedly at his chest, though at least he didn't further damage the tissue there. "I guess I never told you how bad this was, did I?" His fingers climbed to the top of the scar, just above the collarbone. "It was a single, massive blow." He began tracing it downward. "It snapped the left clavicle, cleaved through half the muscle in my left pectoral and gouged into the sternum, broke a few ribs. I was fortunate to only puncture a portion of one lung. I was less fortunate in that it also managed to partially eviscerate me..."

Sypha made a bit of a gagging sound; she couldn't help it. Maybe she'd gone soft since their days roaming the countryside or maybe it was because of her pregnancy, but it was too much information about someone she cared about. She didn't need to think about his insides falling out.

Adrian stopped and didn't add anything else, which she was grateful for.

Trevor stretched to rub his wife's arm, hoping that that would help settle her a bit. His other arm dropped to loosely curl around Adrian's waist. "I don't know how you can consider that as anything less than attempted murder. You've said before, that he wasn't trying to kill you. But... if you were human, you'd be dead for sure."

"I know. But I'm not. And he didn't finish me off. He left me lying there," and he glanced at Sypha and decided to omit mentioning the pooling of blood and the feeling of his intestines trying to slip slide out between his fingers, "and walked away."

"How did you end up under Gresit then?" the Speaker inquired.

"I had confronted him in the library. The transmission mirror was about twenty, thirty feet away from where I fell. I held myself together and half crawled, half dragged myself to it, and managed to open a portal to my keep after a few tries. I had to more or less aim to fall into the coffin, as I wasn't sure if I could actually climb into it by that point."

"Christ. And you went to sleep like that?" Trevor asked. He really didn't want the mental image of Adrian trying to drop his bloody, torn up body into a coffin, like someone tossing scraps at a slop bucket. He must've aimed well, because there wasn't a complete mess surrounding the coffin, as far as he could recall.

"Not immediately. I had to actively knit myself back together, enough so... well, so that I'd survive the sleep. You may have seen some canisters of blood behind the coffin? I used those for something my mother called a transfusion, as I'd lost too much blood to successfully repair myself."

The hunter's eyebrows knit together. That... wasn't what he'd expected to hear. "How does that work?"

"Hollow needles and flexible tubes transferred the stored blood into my body."

"Wait... what? Couldn't you just drink it? The way full vampires do?"

"Trevor..." Sypha warned.

"You know I don't drink blood," Adrian reminded him, sounding exhausted.

"Can't or won't? Even to save your fucking life?!" Trevor questioned, incredulous.

"The last thing I wanted to do was to dishonor my very recently deceased mother by doing the very thing she asked me not to!" the half-vampire snapped, hurt in his eyes. But before Trevor could apologize, the fire dimmed back down to a smolder. "Doing it her way worked, didn't it?"

Neither Sypha nor Trevor had anything to say to that. Very clearly, Vlad had gone way too far. And they both figured that Lisa would've wanted her son to break his promise and live, rather than die in such a manner. But Adrian seemed to be looking for ways to minimize what had happened, even though it was obvious the scarring extended far beyond the mark left on his body.

Sypha finally made a soft sound, and trailed her fingers up and over Adrian's shoulder, brushing back a few strands of silken hair. "A few of those furrows are still welling up," she pointed out. It was kinder than ordering him to fix the injuries he'd caused himself.

As they watched, the gouges closed up and faded, until there was only the faintest impressions left behind. "Much better," the redhead breathed in relief. She knew from experience that by the next morning, they'd be gone completely.

Trevor grunted, finding only a modicum of relief from seeing the wounds gone, but it was better than nothing... "I think we're all beat. Adrian, you think you'll be able to sleep?"

Truthfully... he wasn't sure. Physically, mentally, emotionally, Adrian was worn out. But he didn't want to face another nightmare where his father ripped into him and pummeled him into walls. Part of him wanted to jump out the window, switch into a bat swarm, and fly apart mindlessly until he forgot how to put himself back together again. But he had a responsibility to his spouses and kids; he couldn't run away or fall apart. "... I'll try..."

"Okay." The brunet quickly hopped out of bed, grabbed a fresh nightshirt, and handed it to his lover. "Here. It'd be upsetting if you had to run to the kids' room for some reason with blood on ya."

Adrian didn't contest that, pulling off his stained garment and handing it to Trevor (who simply threw it over the back of a chair to deal with later) before donning the new one. Sypha helped secure the drawstring cuffs, then drew his head down to kiss his cheek and rest his forehead against hers. They sat like that for a few seconds before Adrian wrapped his arms around her and just leaned into her slightly, enjoying her warmth, the rhythm of her heartbeat as well as her fetus', and her sweetly floral scent, with a hint of crisp ice and clear smoke from her magic.

She stroked his cheek, happy to offer the affection Adrian was craving. "Maybe Trevor can lend you a hand, if you need help getting some rest?"

"Are you offering me up as a sleep aid?" said brunet asked as he scooted back under the covers, sandwiching Adrian in the center as the other man helped Sypha lie back down before getting himself settled as well. "I mean, I have no issue trying to exhaust you, if that's what you want," Trevor bragged with a flash of a grin.

"Trevor, that is not what I'm talking about! I meant like a massage or something," Sypha said with familiar exasperation.

"How is it so considerate when she says it, but it's filth coming from your mouth?" Adrian chimed in. But despite the complaint he snuggled up against his husband, the banter both distracting and steadying him as much as the familiar pressure from Sypha's little wool-clad soles sliding up the backs of his calves. Even with socks on, she still liked to steal a little extra heat from him, and he didn't mind. Although his body ran cooler than a human's would, on a chilly night he was still a welcome source of warmth.

The hunter carefully stroked through moonlight strands even as he casually added, "I can use my mouth too, I don't care. Whatever works, you know?" He kissed Adrian on the forehead, his fingers playing along the back of his head. He knew full well that the blond wasn't going to take him up on his offer, but if keeping the act going continued to lure him away from the ledge he'd been heading towards, then so be it.

Adrian snorted softly in lieu of answering, and shut his eyes, concentrating on the feel of fingernails as they began scratching along his scalp, of broad fingertips moving down to rub at the base of his skull before scritching their way back up. He hummed at the pleasant sensations, at the intimate comfort of Trevor's scent. He hadn't expected Trevor to give him a massage anyhow, but it was nice... It eased away some of the tightness in his chest.

"Go to sleep," Trevor whispered. "I'll watch over you."

Adrian rubbed his cheek against his lover's chest and sighed. Eventually he went quiet and his movements slowed and then stilled, until his breaths evened out. Only then did Trevor feel like it was safe to drift off to sleep himself.

* * *

Adrian was in no shape to get any work done the next day, or at least that was Trevor's opinion. He even went as far as telling Greta that Adrian was sick, which meant there'd be a delay in the new water pump install he'd been working on. The look the headwoman gave him said she wasn't buying it... still, she let it slide because Adrian was nothing if not reliable, so if something was bothering him enough that he felt he couldn't work, she wasn't going to challenge it.

The half-vampire had slept, but he still looked worn down and bothered as he wandered down to start breakfast, his eyes a little vacant. Trevor hated it; he felt helpless and that never sat well with him. It made him insist on taking on all the chores for the day minus the cooking (since frankly they were all spoiled to Adrian's meals) and a bit of basic child care. With nothing else to do, not even clean up in the kitchen, Adrian spent most of the day holed up with Sypha and Ann in the library, doing nothing more strenuous than a bit of sewing and reading. The forced rest did do him some good though. By the time Trevor peeked in on them in the afternoon, the blond had relaxed enough to sleep with one of his legs hooked over Sypha's knees, his ponytail tugged loose and draped over the napping toddler sprawled on top of his chest. He had even kicked off his boots so Sypha ended up lightly cupping her hand around the ankle of the foot that was tucked up under her thigh.

The sight was too irresistible; Trevor crept in stealthily, pointedly ignoring the giant, wrecked mirror that lay like a shattered ice pond in the center of the space - at least there was no residual evidence of the initial clash between father and son, and Adrian didn't seem to have any lingering reluctance with using the room - and stopped next to the plush sofa the trio was reclining on, engraving the scene into his memory. "Nice job," he mouthed at Sypha, leaning down to kiss her soundly.

She was happy to accept his affection, but once they broke apart honesty had her informing him, "It wasn't me; you can thank Ann. As soon as she fell asleep like that, all curled up in his hair, it was like a siren's call; he couldn't resist." She looked over and smiled broadly, clearly not immune to the cuteness herself.

"Fuckin' adorable," Trevor agreed, chuckling softly.

"You did good," Sypha whispered back, her eyes sparkling with warmth. Even though it was only for a day, she knew it was a lot for Trevor to have to handle everything around the house by himself. Frediric had probably pitched in, however much that was worth, but he'd likely bailed on his father at some point to go play outside.

The brunet puffed himself up, proud that his efforts had paid off. "Of course. No big deal," he bragged, a bit louder than intended. Adrian inhaled sharply as his eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm, did I... nod off?" he mumbled, looking at Trevor in confusion, and then Sypha, before his gaze settled on Ann and the open book that had slid down in between his torso and the back cushions of the sofa. "Oh."

The redhead sighed. "Well, good job, Treffy," she said flatly.

Trevor at least looked a bit sheepish, rubbing at the back of his head as he dropped his chin. "... Sorry."

"What time is it?" Adrian asked no one in particular, as he put his hand on Ann's back to keep her in place as he began sitting up. Despite his efforts, she also began stirring, burbling softly as she tugged at Adrian's hair. He gently disentangled her before hoisting her up so she sat more securely against his shoulder. "I should start dinner..."

Trevor grumbled under his breath. He supposed he should help out, since he'd woken them after all. "Yeah... Come on, I'll lend you a hand."

"Are you sure? You've been busy all day."

"I can at least watch the kid," Trevor offered, holding his arms out for his daughter. She mimicked the gesture until she realized he was intending to carry her, because as soon as the brunet grabbed onto her she latched onto both the blond hair and the white shirt, gripping them fiercely with her little fists as she yelled, "Baba no no no ba!" She was amazingly stubborn when she didn't want to let go of her papa. Sypha couldn't help but snicker as she picked up the rag doll that had fallen onto the sofa, tossing it at Adrian to give to Ann as a substitute to hang on to as Trevor busily pried tiny fingers loose. The little girl finally accepted defeat with a pout, but kept her eyes fixed on Adrian. Trevor joined in on the laughter, thinking of how her dogged determination and iron grip would serve her as a hunter.

"I'll come along too. Even I can only read for so many hours at a time," Sypha said, still giggling, as Adrian helped her up.

* * *

Things were more or less back to normal the next day, though Adrian was starting to fret over what he should say to his parents the next time they spoke. While he was glad Trevor agreed to another round of conversation in a week's time, he was also hesitant - would it feel as uncomfortable as the previous one?

And speaking of uncomfortable, it had been Trevor's suggestion to use the mirror to check in on what Vlad was doing - the hunter understandably paranoid that the former vampire lord might be trying to engineer a way to come see them, invited or not - which led to an awkward moment where Adrian and Vlad found themselves mutually spying on one another, both parties caught standing in front of their respective mirrors. Adrian wasn't sure what to do other than return his father's bow with a nod of his own. Well played, he could almost hear his father saying, though neither man said a word.

To avoid more like awkwardness, Sypha advised Adrian to write down any questions or topics that weighed on his mind, so he'd have them on hand when the time came. Maybe starting with a discussion on expectations of privacy, for example...

It was a smart idea, and Adrian tried to do just that. But he kept scratching things out and adding more, and folded and unfolded and scrunched up the paper so many times that by the afternoon of, Trevor wondered if it was even legible any longer.

"Maybe it's best if you sit out of this one, Trevor," Sypha suggested just as the brunet snatched the paper from between the blond's fingers, curious as to how much of a mess the taller man had made of his own notes.

"What? Why?" Trevor asked as Adrian turned an irritated glare in his direction.

"Because... Adrian needs to be able to say whatever he wants to say. And you," and she held up two fingers about an inch apart, sparking up the equivalent of a nasty static discharge before zapping Trevor with it, "get in the way of that."

"Ow!" Trevor hissed in annoyance as he dropped the paper. "I do not!"

Sypha rolled her eyes. "You told his father, and I quote, 'I'm fucking your son.'"

"So?" I mean, it's true...

"So Adrian was trying to explain things in a way that was comfortable for him, and you just ran him over!"

Trevor lifted a hand, then dropped it, like the flap of a bird's wing. "He irritated me. The old man, I mean. He just sat there so calmly like he was totally fine with it, and I knew there was no way he could be."

"Maybe he was!" the redhead huffed.

They both looked at Adrian, who could only shrug helplessly. "I've never had an actual discussion with my parents about my... preferences. So I don't know if he's fine with it or not. Or my mother..." He looked down at the wrinkled sheet that was back in his possession, then at the bands circling his thumb and his ring finger. "I suppose it was more unexpected to hear I was married at all."

"Well maybe if they'd checked in sooner..." Trevor began grousing. He caught himself, but not quick enough; Adrian kept his head down and refused to look at him. "Ugh, shit. I'm..." He exhaled harshly. "I'm an idiot and you're probably right, Sypha."

"Of course I'm right!" she exclaimed.

"Is it all right if I sit outside, just in case?"

"That should be fine. And it's easier than relaying to you later what we talked about," Sypha said thoughtfully. "Do you agree, Adrian?"

The blond head bobbed.

Trevor relaxed slightly. He'd try to make up for it later; he was used to that. "I'll go get the kids, they can sit with me outside," he announced, quickly striding away. And maybe he'd fetch a sword and the Morning Star too while he was at it, not that he was expecting anything to happen, but he'd learned long ago to always assume the worst and then some.

They watched him go, then Sypha turned to Adrian and placed her hand on a forearm that was already taut with tension, and asked, "Are you ready?"

Adrian crumpled the sheet in his hand, suddenly remembering that Trevor asked him something very similar when they'd stood before the castle, preparing to end his father's reign of terror. His answer wasn't the same as it was then, but the mixed emotions churning through his chest and stomach made it a close enough thing that he could give a very similar reply. "No. But let's get this over with anyway."

* * *

Author's Notes:

- Poor Frediric, Trevor just dropped all the bombs on him. Vlad is Dracula, Vlad is Alucard's dad, Alucard was a baby at one point in his life... : )

- I wanted to come up with some sort of explanation for the obvious blood canisters in the keep in Gresit, that didn't involve blood drinking. Using it for a transfusion seemed like a logical answer since that seems like the sort of science Dracula would've studied.

- Thanks to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!

January 27, 2024