Fictober 2023: Reaching Out
Prompts: #15 (Fine, explain it to me) and #18 (We can’t do this on our own), along with a prompt from my 100 Themes Prompt Challenge, #65: Horror (tho loosely used here)
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Rating: Teen
Characters: Abigail Clarke (OC), Auntie Eliza (OC), Vincent van Gogh (Ikevamp version)
Summary: Abby has worked up the courage to tell her aunt where she has been the past year, having not contacted her family at all since she went on a trip to Paris and had been assumed missing. What would her auntie have to say if her beloved niece told her that she had time-traveled to the 19th century and had stayed in a mansion full of famous historical figures that had been turned into vampires?
Notes: OC lore building, OC x Canon, Spoilers for Vincent’s Route ending (specifically his Dramatic Ending, but here it’s a little vague), Family AU, Fluff (lots of it towards the end), pregnancy, use of Dutch when it is not a language I speak so if any usage is wrong, just know I’m using language blogs and machine translation so some things are bound to be incorrect, not beta-read
WC: 2599
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Also on ao3!
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"Abigail Grace."
Stern eyes stared into Abby's eyes, wrinkles more of a highlight rather than a feature on the older woman's face. Her aunt frowned. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried about you."
Abby swallowed, her hands raising to her chest, her fingers curling into fists.
"It's… a little hard to explain, Auntie."
"Fine." she sighed. "Explain it to me in a way that's easy to understand."
"…Promise you'll listen to the whole thing? The whole thing?"
"There's more than just… You reappearing after being missing for months--for almost a year--with a man at your arm and a baby in your belly? And you're sure he didn't kidnap you?"
"No! Vincent didn't kidnap me! No one did!"
"Well, as long as we're clear on that…" She held her hand towards her kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting in it. "You've got some explaining to do."
Abby sat in the opposite chair, placing a hand on her belly and taking a calming breath.
"…It started with the trip to the Louvre. I met a tall, mysterious gentleman there."
"So, you were kidnapped. Then he's the one who-!"
"No! Le Comte didn't kidnap me either! Everyone was nice! There was no coercion or bad intentions on anyone's part!"
"… A gang, then? And you've been sworn to secrecy?"
Both sets of eyes fell to a wooden bat in the corner, full of bent nails and Abby wasn't completely sure it was all red paint that was flaking off it.
"NO!" Abby shouted. "You promised you'd listen to me!"
"You've been missing for a year, Abigail." Her aunt repeated, "You're not the only one who's been on edge."
Abby flushed red, pounding her fists on the table with a loud smack.
"On edge!? I time-traveled to 19th century Paris and lived with a bunch of famous historical figures that had been turned into vampires! And when I finally got back to the present day, I wanted to keep to myself because I knew if anyone found me and I said what happened, they'd explode like this! The only reason I sought you out is because I'm having a baby and Vincent and I don't have the means to take care of him on our own! But looking for help here was clearly a mistake if this is how you're going to treat us! How's that for 'on edge', Auntie!?"
Her aunt had been stunned into silence.
"Hold on a second," she started, "Time travel? Famous historical figures? Vampires?! Abigail, have you lost your mind?"
"It's all true!" Abby clenched her fists, "Vincent is the same Vincent van Gogh! The painter! He painted Starry Night and the Almond Blossoms! Café Terrace at Night! A-and Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers!"
"Abigail, he's not *the* Vincent van Gogh. He died over 130 years ago, let alone did not become a vampire, of all things. Not only that."
Her aunt flicked Abby's ear, making her grit her teeth and shield it with her hand.
"Last I saw, Vincent still had both ears. That's part of his legend, remember?"
Abby stood up abruptly, hot tears pricking her eyes. Her son was kicking frantically, no doubt worried because she was so upset. She turned her back to the woman and grabbed her purse.
"Hey, what are you-"
"I thought I could trust you. Out of everyone, I thought you'd be the one I could turn to if I needed anything. Just like when I was a kid, you always looked out for me. When everyone else either turned their back on me or criticized me for not living up to my parents' standards, you were always there to help me."
Abby felt a hand on her upper arm, red painted nails coming into her peripheral. They were as sharp just as she remembered them, like the claws of a ferocious beast.
"Abigail, baby girl, understand what you're saying." She pulled Abby so they faced each other. "You're telling me that you time-traveled to 19th century Paris and lived with Vincent van Gogh, who was a vampire? Honey, anyone would find that hard to believe."
"But it's the truth! I lived with Vincent and his brother Theo, and-and Arthur, Arthur Conan Doyle! Isaac Newton! I got to draw sometimes with Leonardo da Vinci when he wasn't napping on the floor somewhere in the mansion! Mozart… Mozart was always a little curt, but he's like that with everyone! He always played such beautiful music when Sebastian and I were out hanging laundry! And Napoleon! Napoleon liked to tease me sometimes but he was always one of the first to help if I needed anything!"
"Abigail, calm down." the older woman rubbed her arm. "You've clearly been through something, that much is clear."
Abby sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her other arm.
"And I… I know it all sounds so… so… so ridiculous. But, this isn't something I could make up. There's just…too many specifics for it to be made up, Auntie."
"Yes, famous people being turned into vampires sounds right out of a romance novel my girlfriend Hazel'd love to read."
"You… you have a girlfriend?"
"Three of them. Hazel, Gertrude, and Maud. And yes, I do mean girlfriend in the same sense of feelings you and Vincent share. We're buying some land soon and having a few houses built so that we can all be neighbors. Your dad hates the idea of four old biddies living independently, though. We're retired, he shouldn't care what we do with our lives. Nosey little creatin, hmph!"
Abby shivered at the idea and memory of her father. Auntie smiled apologetically.
"But, to make up for upsetting my favorite niece, how about you take my future house and I'll live with one of the other girls? Free of charge."
Abby froze as her aunt continued.
"And you'll need more help than just a house with a new baby, after all. Gerty has 10 kids and at least 25 grandchildren and three great-grandkids; someone is bound to have some hand-me-downs you can have. Hazel used to be a teacher and has her hands in the local quilters guild and she's always out at a charity shop somewhere. Maud is quiet, but she's a wizard with tools and the most stone-faced driver you've ever seen. You should have seen her when we vacationed in Houston. And New York. And in Shanghai! That broad can drive, ha!"
"A-Auntie… I couldn't…"
"What, you were the one to reach out for help. And I'm giving it to you."
"B-but, Auntie, I couldn't take this much!"
"Don't think too much about it, baby girl." She pulled her into arms, hugging her tightly. "Your Auntie Eliza has always looked out for you, remember?"
Abby nodded, feeling tears in her eyes again but for a different reason.
"And… I'm glad to see you again, kiddo. You really did have all of us worried. Especially me."
Now Auntie Eliza was wiping her eyes, mysteriously not smudging her makeup.
"I wanted to choke your father when he came here, looking for you," she mumbled, "Giving me no answers. Just that you had disappeared in Paris without a trace."
"And, honestly, a phone call… or a letter would have been nice." She pouted. "I would have supported you if you said you'd eloped with a painter in Paris or something!"
"I'm not that adventurous, Auntie." Abby laughed quietly.
"Hmm, I doubt that. More than you're giving yourself credit for, anyway."
"You think so?"
Eliza smirked and pointed at her large belly.
"That certainly proves it."
Abby blushed and looked away, rubbing her belly out of habit. Eliza chuckled and kissed her cheek.
"Now, how about you and I have some tea and you can tell me about your adventures time-traveling and escaping the vampires. I'll have Maud take you back to your place later."
"…Thank you, Auntie."
"Anything, if it's for you, sweetie. I'm glad you're here …and alright. And happy."
The two smiled at each other, feeling like old times whenever Abby visited in her childhood. She felt safe and supported in her aunt's presence again, her strongest lifeline before Vincent came along.
They chatted as Abby told her story, how she time-traveled in Paris, meeting all the famous figures turned vampires, and, most important, how she and Vincent fell for each other, how they were separated and reunited again in the present day.
Auntie Eliza couldn't help but notice how much Abby had grown from her trip to the past (that's what they're calling it now, seeing as Abby wouldn't say anything to the contrary). How the once sullen little girl, afraid of her own shadow, was smiling more and talking excitedly, especially when she was talking about Vincent. Eliza had always been proud of her niece, more than her parents had ever been, but, even as she was being regaled with fantastical tales no one else would believe, she couldn't help but feel the change. A change for the better, in her opinion. When she met with Vincent again, she'd have to remember to thank him for helping Abby come out of her shell and into the woman she was becoming. And if she ever met this le Comte and all the others she met at this mansion she kept talking about, she'd have to thank them too, for helping her too. She put her hand under her chin with a smile, listening to Abby rattle on without a care in the world, glowing happily.
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Vincent sat on the couch of his and Abby's apartment, tapping a pencil in his hand with a sketchbook in his lap. On the page were several scribbled gestures from memory of Abby. Cameras were more advanced in this time and his phone was filled to the brim with pictures of her, of course, but it eased his nerves to sketch her. Messy as his lines were, he could still recognize her face and silhouette.
He should have gone with her, he thought for the hundredth time. He still had nightmares of the day she disappeared behind Comte's door, where he couldn't reach her for three months and a year. What if she disappeared again, he thought with horror. Her and their little son he never got to properly meet? Gone from his reach for good this time?
A small snap brought him back from his spiraling thoughts, broken wood and silvery lead coating his hand. Vincent breathed in and set the sketchbook and the crushed pencil on the couch.
"She will be back," he said softly. "She will be fine. They will both be fine."
He closed his eyes, picturing her perfectly in his mind's eye. Her inquisitive eyes as she watched him paint. The way her hair fell in her face when she was concentrating on something she was working on. Her graceful little hands cupping her belly more and more as she grew with their son. He reached out for her, longing to touch her, unfortunately only finding empty air.
He sighed heavily.
"I'll call her."
He fussed around in his pocket and pulled out his phone, finding her name in his favorites to call.
Before he could press the green call button however, the front door opened, revealing Abby with her hair all over the place and heavy bags in her arms.
"Schatje!" Vincent was quick on his feet, making his way towards her.
Her bags fell to the floor with a loud crash, revealing various baby items and knitted socks spilling everywhere. Before Vincent could react, however, two arms encircled him tightly while his lips were captured much the same way.
After a moment, Abby finally pulled away to catch her breath.
"We have a house, Vincent." she said.
"…What?"
"My auntie, she's… she's giving us a house!"
"Schatje?"
"I-I told her everything and she and her girlfriends are helping us. That's what all this stuff is. A-and there's more coming, too."
"More?"
"We don't have the room for it right now, but--a house, Vincent! We're getting a house!"
Vincent, still partially stunned at the news, could only smile at how happy Abby was. He reached for her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her escaping tears.
"That's wonderful news, Schatje." he said, "I'm so proud of you. See what you can do when you set your mind to things?"
She nodded, leaning into his touch.
"I'm glad things turned out so well."
Vincent pressed his cheek against hers, brushing back her mussy hair and holding her close.
"I'm glad you're back. I missed you."
He rubbed her back, his earlier anxiety evaporated as he was wrapped in her once again.
"I missed you too," she said before giggling, moving one of his hands on her belly. "We missed you."
Vincent laughed, feeling the little kick against his palm.
"And I missed you too, Little Theo. Just as passionate as your Oom."
Abby laughed softly, putting her hand over top his, leaning up to kiss him again. He returned her kiss in kind, pulling her in again, tempted to just sweep her into his arms and love her on the first surface he came across. He only refrained when he could sense her fatigue as she leaned against him.
Instead, he opted to sweep her up and put her in their bed, her squeal of surprise making him laugh again.
"But, Vincent, the bags…"
"We can clean them up later." He rubbed his nose against hers. "I said I missed you, remember?"
"Yes?"
"I'm correcting that now." He set her in the bed and crawled up next to her, pulling her closer.
"A-alright." She put her head on his chest, hearing his racing heart. She laced her hand with his, squeezing it gently. Vincent hummed in approval.
"Welcome back, Schatje."
"I'm glad to be back, my love. Today was a good day."
"Any day I'm with you is a good day."
"Yes, that's true."
Vincent pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair.
"…Vincent?"
"Hmm?"
"…Ik… Ik hou van jou."
Vincent looked at her blonde head as her fingers curled against his hand, feeling his cheeks warm. He then smiled and kissed her head.
"Ik houd ook van jou. You're getting better."
"T-thank you. I'd like to be able to fully talk to you in Dutch… one day. For Little Theo too."
"You're improving all the time. Have you been practicing the lullaby I taught you?"
"The one about the little sheep? It's so cute. It reminds of Lotte, Sebastian's sheep. I picture her whenever I'm practicing."
"Sing it for me? I want to hear how it sounds."
"…I don't have the pronunciation down quite right yet."
"I'll help you. Please, sing for me?"
Abby still hesitated, burying her face in his chest. Thinking he had pushed too far, he was about to apologize before he heard her soft voice, tentative in her notes and words.
"Slaap, kindje slaap… Daar buiten loop teen schaap…"
"Een schaap met witte voetjes," Vincent joined her when she stumbled, her soon following his lead, "Die drinkt zijn melk zo zeotjes…"
"Slaap, kindje slaap…" Her voice was growing softer, her eyes growing heavier.
"Slaap, Schatje, slaap…" Vincent sang to her, closing his eyes as well. "Slaap Schatje, slaap…"
He soon only heard her soft breathing, his love having indeed fallen asleep. Not that he was too far behind, comforted by her warmth and presence. He only released her hand to turn off the nearby lamp, picking her hand back up again the dark, keeping it close as sleep soon took over him too.
