1. Chapter 1 (1/2)
i don't even know what happened here, blame redrachxo and her wicked prompts of wickedness. written in about 3 and a half hours, starting just after midnight, so that's why it's awful. morning red, here's your fic. i hope someone enjoys it!
disclaimer: none of this is mine, except the lamentable attempt at a plot.
bertrand had waited his turn as usual. the count got to shower first, then vlad always stepped aside to let ingrid storm in and take over the bathroom. he also stood aside for erin, and then as she emerged bertrand would appear to warn him that he was about to be late for class, so the chosen one had to take his turn.
once the dracula part of the school was quiet, and only when everyone above him in the pecking order had got ready for the day and disappeared, bertrand would step into the bathroom and close the door. by then, of course, there was no hot water to be had, not for blood nor money, but that didn't bother bertrand. it was still something of a novelty for him to have clean water on tap, so the temperature was largely irrelevant in his mind.
yes, he had waited his turn as usual, despite it being saturday and the younger members of the household having therefore taken their time. all he wanted in return was to be left in peace. so why were there people talking outside the door? there were miles of empty corridors; why pick the one outside the bathroom for any conversation that had to be held so early in the morning?
he stepped into the spray and began to wash, the sting of the cold spray hitting him and waking him up a little. he could feel his senses becoming more alert, all the grime of the training room floor flowing away, although he knew he would only be rolling on it again later. physical training with vlad had recently become a much more balanced fight and soon, he was sure, vlad wouldn't even have to try to knock him flat on his back. he closed his eyes, leaning into the water, and let all thoughts of training, of the chosen one, of everything drain away.
it wasn't until he turned the shower off and reached for his towel that he returned to full awareness of his surroundings. there were still voices outside the door, he noticed irritably as he dressed."well, someone should tell him. he'll be devastated. he's supposed to go with him. like i was meant to, when you were going.""he'll be furious, erin. if you want to
ing that on yourself, be my guest, but there's no way i'm telling bertrand-""he's his bodyguard, even if there was nothing else going on, and you know there has to be something. he deserves to know-" bertrand pulled the door open, still fastening the button of one of his cuffs."i deserve to know what, exactly?"
he stood like a stone as erin, ingrid's hand protectively on her shoulder, stammered through an explanation."vlad's gone to transylvania. the count's idea, of course. renfield took him in the hearse the moment-" ingrid's grip tightened on erin's shoulder, urging silence, but bertrand didn't need to hear the words to know how the sentence ended."the moment i was out of the way." the girls nodded silently. "did you know this was going to happen?" ingrid raised an eye
ow, obviously about to deny everything, but erin's panic-stricken glance to see if the older dracula was going to admit to the knowledge gave them both away. bertrand's face darkened. "when is he coming back?" a slight softening of erin's expression told him all he needed to know; vlad would never be allowed to return to him.
the sudden appearance of bertrand's fangs startled them both, though ingrid tried not to show it."get out of my way!" when they didn't move, he lunged at erin, forcing ingrid to pull her along the corridor at speed."you touch her, and i'll-""and what? you'll take everything i have? it's too late for that, dracula." he snarled, advancing on the pair. "maybe i should even the score. take your little
eather snack." ingrid's arms tightened around the slayer, her own fangs bared in a show of defiance."we didn't send him away, bertrand. dad did that all by himself." he hesitated for a moment, then shoved roughly past them, very nearly throwing ingrid into a patch of sunlight. indeed, if it hadn't been for erin landing across her legs, she would certainly have been burned. he didn't stop to observe the destruction as he continued angrily downstairs.
it took him several hours to track down the count, but it had only taken him a couple to realise that even if he couldn't find the cowardly bat himself, he could drain his blood cellar dry on the way. he'd ignored the alcoholic blood, the bar fly and the drunken hobo, and gone for a nice vintage principessa. then he'd taken another bottle at random, smashing it to the ground. it was a terrible waste, but the count's distress at finding his cellar smashed up would be nothing compared to the terror, pain and misery he felt when bertrand finally caught up with him.
in the end, searching classroom after classroom began to feel pointless. he simply returned to the training room, positioning himself in the darkness of the doorway, where he could see the entrance to the blood cellar. bertrand du fortunesa was nothing if not cunning and patient. it took a few hours, but his stillness and silence paid off.
the count made his way cautiously down the stairs towards the cellar, obviously wary of the threat his son's tutor posed. not wary enough. it was the work of seconds to leap from his hiding place and drag the count back into his lair, hand over his mouth so he couldn't even call for help. bertrand didn't particularly care if they were interrupted, but it would be cleaner if it was just the two of them. he intended to have a little sport at his host's expense, and witnesses would just mean that he had to rush things. he didn't want to do that.