Alucard and Trevor but Trevor's a werewolf
The angst potential in this is too delicious to pass up. 😩
[ Come get it on Ao3! ]
(full drabble below under the cut)
All it takes is one bad hunt. It comes with the territory. It's something Trevor thought he's long since made peace with. He just never expected to be clinging to life past that point; he never imagined he would have reservations about doing what he knows is right for a hunter to do: killing a monster.
He did try to go though with it; Alucard was the one to keep him from the edge of his silver blade. He felt sickened by his own relief. One nasty, venomous bite and there were two mosters instead of one, both of them one big joke — an ugly one too. The werewolf bite had made him even more of a moster than Alucard was; now he didn't know if it was the human of the vampire in him that insisted in keeping him alive.
"You can't fight it forever," Alucard tells him, his voice level and still eerily audible over the groans and snarls erupting from Trevor's throat. "The longer you resist it, the worse it'll be."
Trevor grips Alucard's hand to his chest with bulging knuckles, bones cracking as they shift and lengthen painfully under the skin. It's fruitless gesture, but significant. He must be kept there at all costs, anchored to the floor, underground in the hold — to have the walls come down on him if must be, if even layers of rock and stone won't suffice to shield him from the pull of the unforgiving moon. He can feel it all the way down there through the dirt, relentlessly tearing him apart at the seams. Every month since he got bitten has been worse than the last.
"No use denying the inevitable. You'll be better off just letting it happen," Alucard says and something ugly twists within Trevor, an ancient mistrust raring its head.
"I'd rather you kill me before then," he gets out in a painful rasp, words struggling through gritted teeth.
"I won't make your child an orphan, Belmont," Alucard answers, evenly. He's looking at Trevor with calm expectance. The hand on his chest weighs like a stone. His boots feel painfully tight around his feet, his head and toes throb on a torturous pulse.
"I just don't want—"
"To be a monster like me?"
"I don't want to kill anyone," Trevor aims for a growl but it comes out as a pitiful, wounded sound.
"I won't let you," Alucard promises, sweetly, and the pressure of his hand lightens. "Let me do this for you."
The panic in him heightens when he feels the restraints binding him coming undone. "Don't—!" Trevor lets out, frantic and desperate.
"The night is not so bad, Belmont," Alucard speaks, his voice morphing into something metallic, otherworldly. "Let me guide you through it."
With his last shred of consciousness Trevor realises Alucard is shifting too. And Trevor is right behind him.
