On The Eleventh Day of Christmas My Favorite Authors Gave to Me:

Eleven Stakes Stabbing

Lisa hurries along the paths to Castlevania, Adrian hovering at her heels. She hears the rustling of Zgripțor's wings as he launches himself into the open sky, taking in the ground up ahead before returning to Earth once more, protectively by her side.

The journey is short, especially with the protections and magic that Vlad provides, and soon Lisa is shoving through the garden gate, hurrying up the stone path and in through the greenhouse.

A maid appears at her side, already reaching for her coat and Lisa pauses a moment, as the woman speaks in quiet tones.

"The Lord is in his study with a guest that requires medical attention."

A moment passed, before Lisa nods, her gaze already shifting to fix on her son, on Adrian.

"Zgripțor," Lisa says, bending down to place a gentle kiss to her son's forehead.

"Lady?"

Lia turns, shifting so that Adrian's curious stare cannot see her face and allows a look to harden her features. A silent, yet no less pointed order to keep her son safe. Instantly, the winged demon bowed his head, taking care to keep his horns away.

"Understood, my Lady."

With a rustle of deceptively soft-looking feathers, Zgripțor lifts the prince into his arms and whispers something in Latin to him.

The boy's face lights up, but he pauses, turning a questioning stare towards Lisa.

"Mama? Is there…?'

His mother smiles and waves.

"Your Papa needs a bit of help with something, so stay with Zgripțor for a bit, alright?"

Adrian nods firmly. Mama is the best, so Papa probably really needs her help. He smiles, as brightly as he can, one hand patting his demon friend's chest.

"It's okay, Mama! Zgripțor and I will find something to do!"

His attention is already shifting, tugging on a lock of hair and pointing back towards the outdoors.

"Go forth! Search..."

Adrian's eyes narrow, already searching for the delicious berries he knows grows somewhere in the mass of greenery before him.

"...and devour!"

Lisa snorts, but she quickly regains her composure as she turns away, hands already reaching for the medical bag the maid is holding out to her.

Honestly, it doesn't take long for her to reach Vlad's favorite study from the side garden, just so long as she goes through the silver hallway, takes the right to the green parlor room and walks straight through the third music room. Her husband's study should be in that hallway, the first door on the left.

Five minutes in comfortable shoes.

She still hesitates at the door, the last incident still fresh in her mind. With luck Vlad won't find out and she can resolve the matter discreetly. Still, Lisa squares her shoulders and pushes the door open- quietly and slowly.

Vlad is there, sitting in his favorite chair, staring into the flames. He looks…

Lisa frowns, deliberately clicking her heels against the wooden floor. Half a second later, with only the sharp snap of his customary cloak as a warning, his arms close around her, gently with infinite care. She startles when he doesn't bend down to accommodate her heighth, but rather scoops her up, leaving her feet hanging.

"Vlad? What is-"

Lisa stops.

Her own arms wraps around his shoulders, squeezing as hard as she is physically able, tangling her fingers in his hair. He's trembling. Shaking, clutching her like she's his only lifeline. Hes murmuring against her skin, his lips forming apologies and her name, Adrian's name and…

Alright. She's concerned now.

"Vlad."

Lisa keeps her voice soft, careful not to harm sensitive hearing. Her tone is delicate, barely there, but unmistakably hers.

He shudders against her, even as he stops speaking, before he slowly lowers himself to set her carefully on the floor. He doesn't release her from his arms, and quite honestly, she's pretty good staying here for another minute or three. Lisa is content to lean her weight against him, anything to reassure him of her continued presence.

But… what the maid said…

"Vlad," Lisa mumbles only because her face is tucked in the crook of his neck and buried in his chest.

"A human knocked on our door today."

Lisa blinks with surprise, pausing to tilt her head back, to get a good look at her husband. She raises a brow in curiosity, taking an almost teasing tone with her next words.

"Another human knocked on the door of Castlevania?"

Vlad hums in agreement, voice rumbling as he replies, equally quiet.

"A child."

A moment of silence before Lisa shoves herself back.

"What?"

Vlad shushes her, allowing her the distance, but keeping his hands on her shoulders. He gently tugs at her, pushing and pulling until he leads her around the back of the sofa, showing her where the boy slept.

Lisa drew in a sharp breath as hollow cheeks and sharp bones were thrown into stark relief against burned and bruised skin, illuminated by the firelight.

"Abused? And he came here?" She hisses to her husband, grabbing her med bag even as she kneels by the boy's side. Carefully, she fills a syringe with a strong sedative, gently reaching out in order to press it into his skin.

Vlad abruptly yanks her back, the thick fabric of his cloak settling in front of her body and partially blocking her vision. For a single moment, Lisa is entirely outraged, but then-

Then she sees why.

The boy had woken, and instantly lashed out with his fists. In a stunning display of agility and flexibility, he twisted himself up and over the couch, pushing his body back, back into the wall. His eyes are huge in his face, his expression draw with pain, but there was anger there, fury in the baring of his teeth and that hid the fear quite well.

Lisa opened her mouth, to apologize, to demand he sit back down, anything to get that expression off his face, but Vlad spoke up first.

"Boy," Dracula began, a threat in his tone and Lisa instantly turned around to demand he stop.

But the child spoke first.

"I told you," he spat, clenched fists easing, even as he stumbles and bodily leans against the wall for support. "I'm here to fix your shit, you bastard. Not-"

The boy startles at the mane of blonde hair spilling over the black of the vampire's cloak. His breath hitches. His skin leeches of color and in that instant, Vlad regrets the tone of his voice and takes a deliberate step back. Lisa steps forward, because of course she does.

Her features grow soft and she moves to introduce herself.

"Hello there. My name is-"

"Lisa."

His wife pauses at the sheer intensity of the emotions in the boy's voice. She lepts forward when he crumples into himself, great gasping sobs shaking his thin frame even as he draws his hands up to hide his face. Vlad glides around the sofa, drawing his darkness and presence into himself and patiently waits for his wife to scale the aforementioned piece of furniture before kneeling down, once again before the Belmont child.

"Trevor," Vlad says, quietly.

He doesn't acknowledge him. Doesn't move from his position and as the father of another young child, as the man who has seen that terrible future reflected in this boy's eyes...something trembles in his chest. Vlad eases himself closer, barely brushing against the boy's hands, waiting to see his reaction.

The Belmont shudders and chokes on a sob, swallowing it. He looks up, a brief flicker of his eyes, just enough to see the entirely helpless expression on Lisa's face, the way her entire body language screams that she wants to help, but she doesn't know if her comfort will be welcome.

Trevor shifts his gaze to Dracula, staring through watery vision and after a moment, allows the vampire to gently guide his hands away from his face. The harsh lines of his face, the way he can see the shine of red in his eyes, and even the singing of the magic in his veins, all warn that this is a vampire.

But he has a head full of memories, both of his future self, and of the very being in front of him. He doesn't know what to do, but his burns aren't stinging so bad, he's warm and his clothes are cleaner than he can remember them being in a long time. So he sits there, against the wall, Alucard's mother and Dracula both crouched in front of him.

When the vampire, when Alucard's father reaches out his hand to softly brush at the tear tracks on his cheek, Trevor cannot help but lean in. He remembers when this man held his son for the first and the last time. When Lisa was there in all her brilliance and the ashes that were left of her. He remembers it from two different views and it's all in his head and he's so tired and the pain is always there to remind him- remind him of all he's lost-

Arms wrap around his shoulders, tenderly holding him to a warm body and judging by the scent of fresh flowers, of clean air and pine trees, it's Lisa. But there's also a hand tangled in his hair, a thumb wiping away the tears and that's Vlad and oh.

Oh.

When was the last time he felt safe?

How long as it been since he allowed someone to touch him?

Someone who didn't have any intentions of hurting him?

He's shaking uncontrollably and the woman is murmuring soothing words in his ear and the man speaks in a deep voice, enough that he can hear it in his chest and everything hurts.

Trevor cries himself to sleep in the arms of a fellow heretic and his family's worst enemy and doesn't even feel the faint pressure of a needle sliding into his skin. He doesn't feel himself being lifted and cradled in someone's arms, or the gentle way he's placed on a soft bed.

He's fast asleep, held fast in the grip of his dreams as burn cream is spread onto his scars and his wounds are treated and badly needed fluids are introduced into his starved system.

Hours later, he will not wake when a small shadow will sneak into the room while his parents are in a serious discussion, he won't wake when a small boy whispers a wish, a long held hope into his ear. He'll miss the wide beaming smile as the child turns to leave, and he won't hear the door clicking shut or the faint rustle of feathers either.

For the first time in several years, Trevor Belmont sleeps through the night, truly and deeply asleep without abruptly waking from his nightmares, from those hunting him or even the evils that stalk the land.

Adrian creeps through the castle on silent feet, hovering in the air just above the floor. Zgripțor is much louder in the confines of walls and the roof. He can hear the man's feathers sliding together, his wings shifting and the demon is very loud compared to Adrian who is entirely capable of sneaking up on his parents.

In fact-

Adrian levels a stern look at Zgripțor, just like his mother, silently commanding him to stay.

Zgripțor raises a single, unimpressed brow.

The Prince pouts- no, he scowls in annoyance! He swings around, pushing himself up through the air to look Zgripțor straight into his eyes.

This is an order, Adrain tries to communicate with his fierce gaze. Stay.

The other brow lifts, deliberately slow and he deflates, lowering himself back down to the ground. Why is it that his mother can just give people a single look and they do what she wants and he can't?

A noise draws his attention, the twist of a doorknob and the door to the study opens and his father stands in the light, shadows on his face.

"Adrian," Papa says, softly, wondering, yet as if he's so very sad.

He panics and bodily hurdles himself through the air to slam into his father.

"Don't be sad! You shouldn't be sad!"

Desperately casting his gaze around, Adrian's eyes alight on the brilliant gold of his mother's hair, the shine that matches his own and instantly reaches out to her.

"Mama! Mama, you need to stop Papa from being sad!"

In the light of the flickering flames, the difference of height between them, Adrian misses the expression on his mother's face. The one Lisa quickly erases as she steps forward, ducking under the arm Vlad extends for her so she can hug both her husband and her son.

Lisa firmly pressing a kiss to soft golden locks, relishing in the giggles her son makes.

"I love you," she tells him tenderly.

"I love you, too, mama!"

Lisa pushes up on her tippy toes, her free hand going to tug on her husband's hair and when he leans down, she kisses him, pulling back to look him directly in the eyes.

"I love you," Lisa declares with the same words and an entirely different tone.

Vlad's eyes close, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. He does not respond.

"I love you," she repeats, quietly and fiercely.

"And I you," her husband states, simply and unwavering, "more than life itself."

She tuckers herself farther into his arms, their child held between them. A tear trembles on her lashes and slips unnoticed down her flushed cheek.

"I know."