Neither am I, and I just spent three days in a morgue. Don't be too smug.
[ grumpily. but he keeps moving, keeps anderson moving, and takes a sharp turn when anderson says beach. it's not like there's any way they can get a cab or anything in this mess, so he's left to hoof it. it works though, and things get increasingly warmer as they slowly near the beach. rather than his lazy work taking out things in the way he just ignores them now, pushing through, working--
--well, they get there eventually, and the ocean is still magma, though it's so strange to witness in monochrome. anderson's face is still cold when he touches it, and it makes alucard frown as they stand on the hot sand. ]
[Anderson's head is drooping by the time they reach the beach. He's arrived the tired stage of hypothermia, but he forces his eyes open, keeps himself alert, because he knows the last thing you want to do when suffering hypothermia is go to sleep.
The hot sand is pleasant, so he slowly descends to it- perhaps not entirely deliberately, since his legs are numb and weak right now.
His wet clothes aren't helping matters. They're just keeping the cold insulated. He manages to shrug off the cassock easy enough, but the rest proves difficult for his stiff-fingers, and he ends up having to make a vague gesture for assistance.]
Livid, as far down as where shame appears, were the... disconsolate shades within the ice... [His voice is a listless mumble.] Setting their teeth unto the note of storks. [He blinks blearily at Alucard.] The level in which Judas Iscariot resides.
I get it, I get it. You're not a traitor like the actual Judas, you know that, right?
[ bluntly. it's still stupid. he helps anderson get the wet clothing off so that he can get warmer, meticulous and careful, and gives him his own coat before laying the clothes out on the sand to dry. sure, it'll get them all sandy, but once they're dry they can be shaken out and he can put them back on.
once he's done, he settles in the sand in front of him, staring, watching, making sure he's definitely not falling asleep. ]
Hey. Pay attention to me. Once you're warm, we need to keep busy so people don't die. How much of the rest of the problems have you seen? Someone let some vampires out of a tomb, they're gonna be a problem because all they want to do is eat. A couple even tried to eat me.
[ it's not a great subject change, but it's pertinent to what's happening around them, and hopefully a distraction. he's trying, he's just not good at it. ]
I don't think anyone is... quite on the same level as Judas.
[That isn't him saying he doesn't belong in Treachery, though. Perhaps he does for his divergence from God's word, and for Maxwell, and for Yumie- Yumie, who brings a grimace to his face when he thinks of her.
He tugs Alucard's coat tight around him, and he feels strangely small, sitting there half-naked in the sand, his knees pulled up to his chest.]
I've seen some creatures running amok. I'd assumed they were just... just part of the landscape, rather than escapees.
[Which is a reasonable conclusion to come to.] Surprised they went after you. There's not enough meat on you to make a worthwhile meal. [It's an attempt at humour, but it falls rather flat under his listless speech, and it isn't helped by him continuing on with:] Was it lying? About Yumie. Yumiko.
[This is perhaps not the best time, but he has to ask. He has to know. He won't be able to think of anything else if he doesn't have an answer.]
[ bland. alucard feels very strongly about traitors, and treachery, and he wouldn't give anderson the time of day if he thought he belonged there. and obviously, his opinion is the most important one.
he shakes his head, about the creatures. ]
There are all kinds. They're being thorough about it.
[ he snorts, at the comment about him not having any meat on his bones--it's true, he's pretty lean and lanky in this form. not a great meal. when anderson continues, he hesitates, which is answer enough, but he doesn't look away. ]
After you died, or rather as you died, Walter arrived. She went after him, but Millennium had altered him enough that she couldn't win. Heinkel tried to kill him later, I believe, but she failed. As far as I'm aware, he injured her badly, but the Vatican took care of that.
[ he's not going to go into detail. it was a fucking slaughter. he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. ]
I thought you were better off not knowing that part.
[ which is--oddly kind, for him, all things considered. ]
I told you he was the worst.
[ he's not making a joke, or anything, or making light of it, perhaps surprisingly: while he has and had no emotional attachment to anderson's children or pupils, his distaste for walter is just that deep.
but he's also pointedly putting the blame on walter, not on anderson, like the shades had done. ]
[He falls silent and very still as Alucard answers. It isn't easy to hear, but it is something he should hear. He thinks so, anyway; maybe he's just trying to punish himself for his failings, because the apparitions were right- Yumie and Maxwell would be alive if he had been better, and Heinkel's alone because he wasn't good enough. Even with God's power, he wasn't good enough. He drained himself for nothing.
He'd spent the last several months trying not to acknowledge all that was lost in London. But it's weighing on him, now, impossible to ignore.]
You were right. But I appreciate you telling me now, all the same.
[He leans his face into his knees, quiet for a long moment. The shaking steadily subsides. He's warming up.]
God himself will lead you; he will be with you; he will not fail you or desert you. Have no fear, do not be alarmed. [He mumbles, as though trying to reassure himself.] Put your hope in God, be strong, let your heart be bold, put your hope in God. [After another pause, he raises his eyes to Alucard.] I have never asked anything of God, not even mercy. But I feel empty, and alone.
[This all had to come to a head, eventually. He couldn't deny what he'd lost forever.]
[ alucard sits quietly, letting him process. it's a strange thing to watch, to not want to disrupt. but he does respect him, and respects the need to mourn. ]
I'll always speak the truth.
[ which puts his oddly avoidant tones when speaking of heinkel and yumiko into sharp relief: he was trying to avoid the elephant in the room. which worked, until now.
at least anderson is warming up. physically, he'll be alright.
mentally though, spiritually, alucard wonders, and when he's finally addressed, he hesitates, because it stings. the familiarity of it burns, because he knows that ache, that pain, and his own method of dealing with it had been a disaster.
when he speaks, his voice is low. ]
You have a choice. Carry on in conviction, with what you've known as your truth for so many years, or make the same mistakes I did to try and run from it. But it never goes away, if you run. It hangs over you, drags its fingers through everything you do in spite for thinking that escaping was the right choice. It's--better, in the end, to press on.
[ look, alucard is still spiteful and hates god, but he's not gonna tell alexander anderson that the whole 'denying his faith because he felt abandoned' thing was a good idea. he knows it's not on the table to begin with, not really, but to see him shaken at all is--difficult, in its own way. ]
[He nods slowly to Alucard's words, his chin brushing his knees. He's at perhaps his lowest point, but he won't abandon his beliefs. In the end, it's his own failings that led to his defeat, to his losses, not God's; he's simply... struggling, right now, to feel the presence of God with him, and it's hard for a man who has felt it so strongly throughout his life.]
No, I... I won't run. It's not His failings that brought me here- it's mine, and as alone and empty as I feel, I can't blame Him for them. Draining myself dry in His name would mean even less, if I ran now.
[He runs his fingers under his glasses, startling at finding moisture there. It's been a long time since he's cried, really cried, rather than simply becoming misty-eyed, or shedding tears in a moment of profound pleasure. The tears that do come are gentle, absent of any trembling or a tightening throat.
Slipping the glasses off, he catches the tears on a palm.]
I'll press on. I'll find a way to.
[He always does, even under the worst of circumstances.]
That wasn't exactly the point I was trying to make, with regards to faulting anyone.
[ he watches him, and it's the first time he's seen him cry like this. and so quietly, at that. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't, for a moment. what can he? it's clear anderson blames himself for the deaths of his children, even if other people pulled the proverbial trigger. alucard killed maxwell, but anderson allowed it--
--but maxwell put himself in that position, with his wild plan, with his heresy. that's maxwell's fault, not anderson's. perhaps yumiko's devotion to anderson was his fault, but not her devotion to god, nor her death at walter's hands. ]
You've already found a purpose here, priest, in bringing God to the Godless. In caring for the children in need. You have your calling, even if our hunts here are cut short.
[ he reaches out, one hand pressing to the side of anderson's neck, fingers splayed somewhat. ]
And to think, you've even gotten me to agree to attend.
[ partially at susan's behest, but still, alucard even setting foot in a church is pretty remarkable. ]
[What Alucard says is exactly what he needed to hear. He's quiet for a moment, thinking, leaning absentmindedly into the hand on his neck.]
I suppose six hundred years of life have given you some wisdom.
[It wasn't enough that he still had people dependent on him, last time. He'd run. In the opposite direction Alucard had when Alucard had been given the choice of discarding his humanity, but he'd run all the same, sought to turn himself into something that couldn't feel and couldn't hurt. This time, when he says he won't run, he means it: he won't destroy himself, he won't abandon those who need him.
He nods to Alucard's words. Before leaving Duplicity, he'll make sure those who rely on him have what they need. That'll be his reason for going on.
And Alucard- Alucard, too, will be part of that reason.]
That is something of a feat.
[He smiles a little, at that, moving to curl his fingers over the ones splayed across his neck.
There's a little more colour to his face. Some pink around his nose and along his cheekbones, courtesy of the tears. And they still come, but they're slower, now.]
When you were lost, I... [There's a beat of silence while he collects his thoughts.] Wish there had been someone there for you, as you are here for me, right now. But I suppose it'll have to be one of those 'better late than never' situations.
[ perhaps it's funny: alucard doesn't see himself as part of that reason, not really, but he definitely needs it--perhaps not most of all, but somewhere in the middle. he just doesn't realize it, not quite. doesn't need to, right now.
he huffs a laugh, about it being a feat, and his thumb idles along the line of anderson's jaw, thoughtful. ]
We're still not even sure if I'm going to burn or not, so that much will be an adventure.
[ he pauses, at what the priest says to him, and he searches his face quietly for a long moment. there's an emotion there, one that aches, and he finally looks away. ]
I had no one, at the time. Alienation--is a constant, for me.
[ he looks at him again, and smiles, and cants his head. ]
I would have been content, if there'd been someone like you.
[ it's so similar to what he'd told anderson at the end, isn't it? but anderson hasn't heard that, yet.
[Perhaps he should be opposed to having a being who has the potential to burn when on consecrated grounds enter his church, but he isn't. He's just grateful.]
Well, I'm eager to find out, for one.
[It's a light, playful comment. The despondency has eased some, and when Alucard continues, his words make Anderson's throat tighten and his breaths come hitching for an altogether different reason.
He would have gladly been that person. He would have been happy, to be the reason Alucard - Vlad - persisted as a human, perhaps even met peacefully with death. He would have been content, to be such a profound presence in his life.
Maybe he can't give Alucard that now, but, God, he wants to try for something close.
It's thoughtless, when he leans forward and kisses him. Gently, fondly, and perhaps a little wet, but warm, now that the hypothermia has receded.]
We're both estranged from people, at large, but this- it's enough that you haven't turned me away, upon seeing this, and know that I would have been that for you, and that I would be that now. [He speaks against his lips, voice barely audible.] I'm glad it's you.
[And he finds that he's entirely sincere. He can't imagine it being anyone else.]
I'm sure you'll be plenty amused when I gently send up steam all through Mass.
[ mildly. look, he burns from anderson's blood, he's probably going to burn in church. but he's lighthearted about it, which is charming, and fine.
and honestly, the thought of anderson being that person has haunted him for decades. how different things would have been, if he'd gladly fallen as a man. ]
You were just born several centuries too late.
[ soft. he returns the kiss, pressing into it in a way that's almost fervent, aching. probably worrying, from an unbiased standpoint, but he's certainly not in a position at the moment to judge himself craving the priest's affection.
it's what he says last that draws a faint, keening sound from him: his hand shifts, pressing to anderson's nape, and he just--clutches at him, emotionally bare. he's not crying, not again, but it's close, and he closes his eyes. ]
I'd be a fool to turn you away. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I won't make that one.
[ he smiles then, a little wry, and adds: ]
Will you take my confession, here in the sand? It's been many centuries. There's much to tell, but I'll spare you the details. [ a sigh, but then: ] I would have long ago tried to raze this entire city to the ground heedless of its occupants without a grounding force.
[ a beat. ]
Though now it seems to be doing it to itself, without my help.
[One of his hands slips to Alucard's waist when Alucard clutches at him, holding him gently and easily while they indulge in each other. It would be so easy to succumb to his own fervent, aching need; it fills him so completely that he could drown in it, but he recognises the depths of it and-
Is it really Alucard who needs to make a confession?]
The state of affairs are unusual enough that I think I can give the delay a pass.
[He leans his face into Alucard's neck. His mind is a-whirr with thoughts, but he still takes the time to listen.
It's a slow, clawing realisation, what exactly this desperate need signifies, why Alucard's words mean so much to him, why he's enough to soothe the ache of loss and failure, and why he's so discontent with Integra's presence. He wants Alucard in a way he shouldn't, in a way Alucard can't reciprocate. In a way Integra already has already earned, occupying a space Anderson will never have access to. He isn't Alucard's grounding force, in the end.
He presses himself close to Alucard.]
You're going to need to perform a lot of penance for that, I'm afraid. Conveniently, we seem to be in hell, so killing a few of those tomb-dwellers should suffice as a start.
[The weight of everything drops against his shoulders again, but he pushes back, this time, and drags his lips on Alucard's throat. He doesn't want to let go yet. It might be the last time he lets himself do this.]
But we can spare a few moments more, before that. Tell me everything you wish to say. You have my ear.
[ anderson could make his own confession. should. it would make things easier, in the same moment as they would make things harder. there's no middle ground with them, though.
alucard's head tilts when anderson tucks into his neck, stretching out his throat compliantly. much like a dog rolling over to show its belly in a sign of trust, he's begun to allow the priest to see all of his softer edges, the parts of him that would be so easy to rip out, metaphorically speaking. ]
How kind of you.
[ a murmur. when anderson presses close his free hand curls around his back, clutching at the fabric of his own coat to urge him still closer. needy and wanting, as usual. ]
Will you aid me, in my penance?
[ his voice is hoarse, almost raw, as he says it. they both know that alucard is not, and will not ever, actually seek forgiveness from god. this is all for anderson, a confession to him directly.
his throat stretches out further with a sigh, fingers losing themselves in anderson's hair. he's distracted, briefly, by the touch of lips, because it's so pleasant, but he does have more to say. ]
You promised to kill me, and I'll hold you to it. But more than that, I need you in between now and then. Aside from the obvious troubles and issues being here, I've--enjoyed living, these past few months, in a way I'm not sure I ever have.
[ a pause. ]
I feel guilt for that, for being content when things are calm, for being happy with the stability we've managed to cultivate. I don't know what to do with myself otherwise, though. I shouldn't be glad you're here with me.
[Alucard's words hurt. It's not intentional, clearly, but they're a grip around very roots of him, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the pull on the tenuous links keeping him together.
They've forged a life here and he won't be the one to ruin it. He'll smother it, his ardour.]
Nor should I be glad, and I doubt I need to tell you the status of my guilt, but I am glad, and I'm glad it's mutual. I never imagined I'd be a positive source of companionship for my nemesis, or vice versa, but I can live with that.
[He moves his face to Alucard's shoulder, sliding his hand further around Alucard's back, fingers playing at his spine.]
Being your nemesis, and being your- friend, seem to be things that can coexist.
[It's a bittersweet way to refer to them. As much as he'd like there to be more, what they do have should be, and has to be enough on its own; it's the extent of what he can have, and it's better for everyone if he never acknowledges these feelings beyond this moment, never ruins their stability by letting Alucard discover the depths of them.
He shifts back just enough to draw him into one more kiss. It's hot, and slow, and needy, and above all else, selfish, and then he slips away, setting his glasses back onto his nose.]
I'll certainly help you with that penance. A slaughter should warm me up even further.
[ truthfully, if alucard knew anderson was struggling like this, he'd think it was--absurd. while he has no term for his own feelings, much less a context for them, he likes them even when they hurt, and the fact that anderson is apparently blind to the depths of them would likely wound him in a way. ]
You're Catholic, of course you're guilty. But it's--good, to have another chance.
[ at death, or at what they've forged here? both, perhaps. his back arches a little, from anderson's touch, an idle hum rumbling out of him. he listens to him speak, quiet, and--
--ah. friend. somehow that doesn't seem right, to him, but he doesn't know what to replace it with, so he just--frowns, minutely, nosing in against his jaw insistently. it's easy to make innuendo, to make sexual jokes to fluster him, but that's not--this. this is different, and alucard opens his mouth briefly to speak before he closes it again, at a loss. he doesn't want to be friends.
he returns the kiss as it comes, pressing into it, hand shifting to rest against his jaw and linger there. he's selfish too, wanting, and nips idly at his lower lip as he pulls away, catching but not breaking skin.
his head cants. ]
You're right. We should do that.
[ he presses forward once more, for another kiss, insistent once more--it's short though, at least, though no less wanting for its brevity. he's good at that, at pouring all his desire into short shows of affection. ]
You know, I'd be more than happy to help warm you up further once we get some work done.
[ with a grin. yes, we all know fighting makes you horny, alucard, this is probably not the best time to blatantly hit on a guy though. ]
[Catholics: they really are great at guilt. Anderson has it in spades, which is certainly a motivating force in regard to smothering his feelings.
He returns that kiss, despite his insistence of just one more. Resistance is hard, when it comes to Alucard. Particularly in moments like these, where physical affection is like a buoy. But he stands once they've parted, shrugging off the red duster and handing it back to Alucard (despite the fact Alucard doesn't really need to have it handed back to him; he could just reduce it to shadow and put it back on that way, but it's a force of habit). His own clothes should mostly be dry, by now.
It's tempting, to take the offer. But he knows better.]
Couldn't resist the opening, Alucard? Amid a crisis really isn't the best time.
[Never mind that they were just kissing 'amid a crisis'.
He retrieves his shirt and pants from the sand, giving them a brush down before pulling them on.]
I expect this whole thing is temporary, like the desert. If the apartments are inaccessible, we'll have to find somewhere relatively quiet to stay, for the time being. I can only go so long without sleep.
[Looks like they'll be camping together for a little while. Not an ideal start to his 'try to maintain a friendly distance' plan, but needs must.]
[ he does sulk a bit, when anderson stands, because he was enjoying the attention, but he draws himself up to his feet as well, taking his coat and shrugging it back on.
he cants his head, still grinning, and shrugs. ]
You're difficult to resist. One can't spend all hours fighting, anyway, and it's a good way to relax.
[ the offer's still going to stand, even though anderson won't take him up on it.
he crosses his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth as he nods. ]
It makes sense. If it's permanent we'll have to come up with something long-term, but until then--have you been to the church, since this started?
[ surely the consecrated ground will help somewhat, right? ]
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[ grumpily. but he keeps moving, keeps anderson moving, and takes a sharp turn when anderson says beach. it's not like there's any way they can get a cab or anything in this mess, so he's left to hoof it. it works though, and things get increasingly warmer as they slowly near the beach. rather than his lazy work taking out things in the way he just ignores them now, pushing through, working--
--well, they get there eventually, and the ocean is still magma, though it's so strange to witness in monochrome. anderson's face is still cold when he touches it, and it makes alucard frown as they stand on the hot sand. ]
Somehow, my spot was gentler than yours.
[ which, hey: is fucking stupid. he's dracula. ]
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The hot sand is pleasant, so he slowly descends to it- perhaps not entirely deliberately, since his legs are numb and weak right now.
His wet clothes aren't helping matters. They're just keeping the cold insulated. He manages to shrug off the cassock easy enough, but the rest proves difficult for his stiff-fingers, and he ends up having to make a vague gesture for assistance.]
Livid, as far down as where shame appears, were the... disconsolate shades within the ice... [His voice is a listless mumble.] Setting their teeth unto the note of storks. [He blinks blearily at Alucard.] The level in which Judas Iscariot resides.
[Seems appropriate, doesn't it?]
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[ bluntly. it's still stupid. he helps anderson get the wet clothing off so that he can get warmer, meticulous and careful, and gives him his own coat before laying the clothes out on the sand to dry. sure, it'll get them all sandy, but once they're dry they can be shaken out and he can put them back on.
once he's done, he settles in the sand in front of him, staring, watching, making sure he's definitely not falling asleep. ]
Hey. Pay attention to me. Once you're warm, we need to keep busy so people don't die. How much of the rest of the problems have you seen? Someone let some vampires out of a tomb, they're gonna be a problem because all they want to do is eat. A couple even tried to eat me.
[ it's not a great subject change, but it's pertinent to what's happening around them, and hopefully a distraction. he's trying, he's just not good at it. ]
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[That isn't him saying he doesn't belong in Treachery, though. Perhaps he does for his divergence from God's word, and for Maxwell, and for Yumie- Yumie, who brings a grimace to his face when he thinks of her.
He tugs Alucard's coat tight around him, and he feels strangely small, sitting there half-naked in the sand, his knees pulled up to his chest.]
I've seen some creatures running amok. I'd assumed they were just... just part of the landscape, rather than escapees.
[Which is a reasonable conclusion to come to.] Surprised they went after you. There's not enough meat on you to make a worthwhile meal. [It's an attempt at humour, but it falls rather flat under his listless speech, and it isn't helped by him continuing on with:] Was it lying? About Yumie. Yumiko.
[This is perhaps not the best time, but he has to ask. He has to know. He won't be able to think of anything else if he doesn't have an answer.]
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[ bland. alucard feels very strongly about traitors, and treachery, and he wouldn't give anderson the time of day if he thought he belonged there. and obviously, his opinion is the most important one.
he shakes his head, about the creatures. ]
There are all kinds. They're being thorough about it.
[ he snorts, at the comment about him not having any meat on his bones--it's true, he's pretty lean and lanky in this form. not a great meal. when anderson continues, he hesitates, which is answer enough, but he doesn't look away. ]
After you died, or rather as you died, Walter arrived. She went after him, but Millennium had altered him enough that she couldn't win. Heinkel tried to kill him later, I believe, but she failed. As far as I'm aware, he injured her badly, but the Vatican took care of that.
[ he's not going to go into detail. it was a fucking slaughter. he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. ]
I thought you were better off not knowing that part.
[ which is--oddly kind, for him, all things considered. ]
I told you he was the worst.
[ he's not making a joke, or anything, or making light of it, perhaps surprisingly: while he has and had no emotional attachment to anderson's children or pupils, his distaste for walter is just that deep.
but he's also pointedly putting the blame on walter, not on anderson, like the shades had done. ]
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He'd spent the last several months trying not to acknowledge all that was lost in London. But it's weighing on him, now, impossible to ignore.]
You were right. But I appreciate you telling me now, all the same.
[He leans his face into his knees, quiet for a long moment. The shaking steadily subsides. He's warming up.]
God himself will lead you; he will be with you; he will not fail you or desert you. Have no fear, do not be alarmed. [He mumbles, as though trying to reassure himself.] Put your hope in God, be strong, let your heart be bold, put your hope in God. [After another pause, he raises his eyes to Alucard.] I have never asked anything of God, not even mercy. But I feel empty, and alone.
[This all had to come to a head, eventually. He couldn't deny what he'd lost forever.]
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I'll always speak the truth.
[ which puts his oddly avoidant tones when speaking of heinkel and yumiko into sharp relief: he was trying to avoid the elephant in the room. which worked, until now.
at least anderson is warming up. physically, he'll be alright.
mentally though, spiritually, alucard wonders, and when he's finally addressed, he hesitates, because it stings. the familiarity of it burns, because he knows that ache, that pain, and his own method of dealing with it had been a disaster.
when he speaks, his voice is low. ]
You have a choice. Carry on in conviction, with what you've known as your truth for so many years, or make the same mistakes I did to try and run from it. But it never goes away, if you run. It hangs over you, drags its fingers through everything you do in spite for thinking that escaping was the right choice. It's--better, in the end, to press on.
[ look, alucard is still spiteful and hates god, but he's not gonna tell alexander anderson that the whole 'denying his faith because he felt abandoned' thing was a good idea. he knows it's not on the table to begin with, not really, but to see him shaken at all is--difficult, in its own way. ]
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No, I... I won't run. It's not His failings that brought me here- it's mine, and as alone and empty as I feel, I can't blame Him for them. Draining myself dry in His name would mean even less, if I ran now.
[He runs his fingers under his glasses, startling at finding moisture there. It's been a long time since he's cried, really cried, rather than simply becoming misty-eyed, or shedding tears in a moment of profound pleasure. The tears that do come are gentle, absent of any trembling or a tightening throat.
Slipping the glasses off, he catches the tears on a palm.]
I'll press on. I'll find a way to.
[He always does, even under the worst of circumstances.]
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[ he watches him, and it's the first time he's seen him cry like this. and so quietly, at that. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't, for a moment. what can he? it's clear anderson blames himself for the deaths of his children, even if other people pulled the proverbial trigger. alucard killed maxwell, but anderson allowed it--
--but maxwell put himself in that position, with his wild plan, with his heresy. that's maxwell's fault, not anderson's. perhaps yumiko's devotion to anderson was his fault, but not her devotion to god, nor her death at walter's hands. ]
You've already found a purpose here, priest, in bringing God to the Godless. In caring for the children in need. You have your calling, even if our hunts here are cut short.
[ he reaches out, one hand pressing to the side of anderson's neck, fingers splayed somewhat. ]
And to think, you've even gotten me to agree to attend.
[ partially at susan's behest, but still, alucard even setting foot in a church is pretty remarkable. ]
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I suppose six hundred years of life have given you some wisdom.
[It wasn't enough that he still had people dependent on him, last time. He'd run. In the opposite direction Alucard had when Alucard had been given the choice of discarding his humanity, but he'd run all the same, sought to turn himself into something that couldn't feel and couldn't hurt. This time, when he says he won't run, he means it: he won't destroy himself, he won't abandon those who need him.
He nods to Alucard's words. Before leaving Duplicity, he'll make sure those who rely on him have what they need. That'll be his reason for going on.
And Alucard- Alucard, too, will be part of that reason.]
That is something of a feat.
[He smiles a little, at that, moving to curl his fingers over the ones splayed across his neck.
There's a little more colour to his face. Some pink around his nose and along his cheekbones, courtesy of the tears. And they still come, but they're slower, now.]
When you were lost, I... [There's a beat of silence while he collects his thoughts.] Wish there had been someone there for you, as you are here for me, right now. But I suppose it'll have to be one of those 'better late than never' situations.
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he huffs a laugh, about it being a feat, and his thumb idles along the line of anderson's jaw, thoughtful. ]
We're still not even sure if I'm going to burn or not, so that much will be an adventure.
[ he pauses, at what the priest says to him, and he searches his face quietly for a long moment. there's an emotion there, one that aches, and he finally looks away. ]
I had no one, at the time. Alienation--is a constant, for me.
[ he looks at him again, and smiles, and cants his head. ]
I would have been content, if there'd been someone like you.
[ it's so similar to what he'd told anderson at the end, isn't it? but anderson hasn't heard that, yet.
still, he means it. ]
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Well, I'm eager to find out, for one.
[It's a light, playful comment. The despondency has eased some, and when Alucard continues, his words make Anderson's throat tighten and his breaths come hitching for an altogether different reason.
He would have gladly been that person. He would have been happy, to be the reason Alucard - Vlad - persisted as a human, perhaps even met peacefully with death. He would have been content, to be such a profound presence in his life.
Maybe he can't give Alucard that now, but, God, he wants to try for something close.
It's thoughtless, when he leans forward and kisses him. Gently, fondly, and perhaps a little wet, but warm, now that the hypothermia has receded.]
We're both estranged from people, at large, but this- it's enough that you haven't turned me away, upon seeing this, and know that I would have been that for you, and that I would be that now. [He speaks against his lips, voice barely audible.] I'm glad it's you.
[And he finds that he's entirely sincere. He can't imagine it being anyone else.]
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[ mildly. look, he burns from anderson's blood, he's probably going to burn in church. but he's lighthearted about it, which is charming, and fine.
and honestly, the thought of anderson being that person has haunted him for decades. how different things would have been, if he'd gladly fallen as a man. ]
You were just born several centuries too late.
[ soft. he returns the kiss, pressing into it in a way that's almost fervent, aching. probably worrying, from an unbiased standpoint, but he's certainly not in a position at the moment to judge himself craving the priest's affection.
it's what he says last that draws a faint, keening sound from him: his hand shifts, pressing to anderson's nape, and he just--clutches at him, emotionally bare. he's not crying, not again, but it's close, and he closes his eyes. ]
I'd be a fool to turn you away. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I won't make that one.
[ he smiles then, a little wry, and adds: ]
Will you take my confession, here in the sand? It's been many centuries. There's much to tell, but I'll spare you the details. [ a sigh, but then: ] I would have long ago tried to raze this entire city to the ground heedless of its occupants without a grounding force.
[ a beat. ]
Though now it seems to be doing it to itself, without my help.
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Is it really Alucard who needs to make a confession?]
The state of affairs are unusual enough that I think I can give the delay a pass.
[He leans his face into Alucard's neck. His mind is a-whirr with thoughts, but he still takes the time to listen.
It's a slow, clawing realisation, what exactly this desperate need signifies, why Alucard's words mean so much to him, why he's enough to soothe the ache of loss and failure, and why he's so discontent with Integra's presence. He wants Alucard in a way he shouldn't, in a way Alucard can't reciprocate. In a way Integra already has already earned, occupying a space Anderson will never have access to. He isn't Alucard's grounding force, in the end.
He presses himself close to Alucard.]
You're going to need to perform a lot of penance for that, I'm afraid. Conveniently, we seem to be in hell, so killing a few of those tomb-dwellers should suffice as a start.
[The weight of everything drops against his shoulders again, but he pushes back, this time, and drags his lips on Alucard's throat. He doesn't want to let go yet. It might be the last time he lets himself do this.]
But we can spare a few moments more, before that. Tell me everything you wish to say. You have my ear.
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alucard's head tilts when anderson tucks into his neck, stretching out his throat compliantly. much like a dog rolling over to show its belly in a sign of trust, he's begun to allow the priest to see all of his softer edges, the parts of him that would be so easy to rip out, metaphorically speaking. ]
How kind of you.
[ a murmur. when anderson presses close his free hand curls around his back, clutching at the fabric of his own coat to urge him still closer. needy and wanting, as usual. ]
Will you aid me, in my penance?
[ his voice is hoarse, almost raw, as he says it. they both know that alucard is not, and will not ever, actually seek forgiveness from god. this is all for anderson, a confession to him directly.
his throat stretches out further with a sigh, fingers losing themselves in anderson's hair. he's distracted, briefly, by the touch of lips, because it's so pleasant, but he does have more to say. ]
You promised to kill me, and I'll hold you to it. But more than that, I need you in between now and then. Aside from the obvious troubles and issues being here, I've--enjoyed living, these past few months, in a way I'm not sure I ever have.
[ a pause. ]
I feel guilt for that, for being content when things are calm, for being happy with the stability we've managed to cultivate. I don't know what to do with myself otherwise, though. I shouldn't be glad you're here with me.
[ but he is. ]
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They've forged a life here and he won't be the one to ruin it. He'll smother it, his ardour.]
Nor should I be glad, and I doubt I need to tell you the status of my guilt, but I am glad, and I'm glad it's mutual. I never imagined I'd be a positive source of companionship for my nemesis, or vice versa, but I can live with that.
[He moves his face to Alucard's shoulder, sliding his hand further around Alucard's back, fingers playing at his spine.]
Being your nemesis, and being your- friend, seem to be things that can coexist.
[It's a bittersweet way to refer to them. As much as he'd like there to be more, what they do have should be, and has to be enough on its own; it's the extent of what he can have, and it's better for everyone if he never acknowledges these feelings beyond this moment, never ruins their stability by letting Alucard discover the depths of them.
He shifts back just enough to draw him into one more kiss. It's hot, and slow, and needy, and above all else, selfish, and then he slips away, setting his glasses back onto his nose.]
I'll certainly help you with that penance. A slaughter should warm me up even further.
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You're Catholic, of course you're guilty. But it's--good, to have another chance.
[ at death, or at what they've forged here? both, perhaps. his back arches a little, from anderson's touch, an idle hum rumbling out of him. he listens to him speak, quiet, and--
--ah. friend. somehow that doesn't seem right, to him, but he doesn't know what to replace it with, so he just--frowns, minutely, nosing in against his jaw insistently. it's easy to make innuendo, to make sexual jokes to fluster him, but that's not--this. this is different, and alucard opens his mouth briefly to speak before he closes it again, at a loss. he doesn't want to be friends.
he returns the kiss as it comes, pressing into it, hand shifting to rest against his jaw and linger there. he's selfish too, wanting, and nips idly at his lower lip as he pulls away, catching but not breaking skin.
his head cants. ]
You're right. We should do that.
[ he presses forward once more, for another kiss, insistent once more--it's short though, at least, though no less wanting for its brevity. he's good at that, at pouring all his desire into short shows of affection. ]
You know, I'd be more than happy to help warm you up further once we get some work done.
[ with a grin. yes, we all know fighting makes you horny, alucard, this is probably not the best time to blatantly hit on a guy though. ]
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He returns that kiss, despite his insistence of just one more. Resistance is hard, when it comes to Alucard. Particularly in moments like these, where physical affection is like a buoy. But he stands once they've parted, shrugging off the red duster and handing it back to Alucard (despite the fact Alucard doesn't really need to have it handed back to him; he could just reduce it to shadow and put it back on that way, but it's a force of habit). His own clothes should mostly be dry, by now.
It's tempting, to take the offer. But he knows better.]
Couldn't resist the opening, Alucard? Amid a crisis really isn't the best time.
[Never mind that they were just kissing 'amid a crisis'.
He retrieves his shirt and pants from the sand, giving them a brush down before pulling them on.]
I expect this whole thing is temporary, like the desert. If the apartments are inaccessible, we'll have to find somewhere relatively quiet to stay, for the time being. I can only go so long without sleep.
[Looks like they'll be camping together for a little while. Not an ideal start to his 'try to maintain a friendly distance' plan, but needs must.]
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he cants his head, still grinning, and shrugs. ]
You're difficult to resist. One can't spend all hours fighting, anyway, and it's a good way to relax.
[ the offer's still going to stand, even though anderson won't take him up on it.
he crosses his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth as he nods. ]
It makes sense. If it's permanent we'll have to come up with something long-term, but until then--have you been to the church, since this started?
[ surely the consecrated ground will help somewhat, right? ]