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The Devil Does Care!

Summary:

In another life, Trevor Belmont, bloody and fearful and far too young to be alone, crossed the path of a generous, kind-hearted doctor who takes him to her home, despite her husband's objections.

(AU where Trevor is adopted by lisa :,) )

Chapter Text

Lisa Dracula-Tepes was so consumed with reading her map, she didn’t realise she was being accosted until she heard the squeaky shout of “Don’t move!”

A sword-tip quivered inches from her throat. She paused and her pack horse took a few more steps to realise they had stopped moving.

Lisa’s eyes travelled down the length of the sharp, handsome blade. The pummel of the sword was held by a determined-looking child, with a matt of black hair that hung in clumps and raw, scabbed red hands. A slicing scar cut through one eyebrow and continued over his cheek. As she took him all in, her mind switched into a doctor’s assessment—the child was far too thin, and the way he shifted uncomfortable suggested there might be other injuries.

“May I help you?” Lisa asked.

“Give me your money—and stuff!” The boy yelped, keeping the sword level.

Lisa peered down at him, “What sort of stuff?”

“What?”

“Money—and stuff,” Lisa repeated, “What sort of stuff?”

“Valuables,” The boy said, hotly, “Maybe… food.”

“Hmm,” Lisa said. She gave the sword tip a wide berth and continued walking, pulling her horse on with her.

“Wait!” The boy darted ahead, limping—and Lisa caught a repressed wince as he tripped on a hard root—a waved the sword at her again.

“Put that thing away,” Lisa said, sharply.

The boy went half-way through the motions of sheathing his sword before he realised what he was doing and stopped, swinging his sword up again.

“Put your weapon away,” Lisa said, adopting the same disapproving tone she used with her own son, “It’s rude to wave that around. Do you have no manners, accosting a woman in the woods like this?”

“It doesn’t matter you’re a woman,” The child said, eyes fixed on the earth.

Lisa raised an eyebrow, “Well, put that thing away and I will share my food with you.”

The boy’s eyes brightened and then he fell into a tangle of indecision. Eventually, he seemed to trust her, sheathing the weapon.

“There we go,” Lisa said, “There’s a clearing just through these trees, we can eat there.”

The boy nodded, hobbling after her. When they had settled in the clearing, she pulled out a thick sheet and set it down on the grass, bringing the remainder of her rations and setting them down on the fabric.

“Sit,” Lisa instructed, sitting down on one side of the fabric.

The boy sat opposite her, feet sticking out. His feet were bare and the skin was black with mud, and slightly lumpy. He waited impatiently to be allowed to eat.

Lisa passed him a chunk of bread, “Are you alone out here?”

The boy took a bit of bread and froze. His face scrunched up, as if he was smelling something unpleasant, and swallowed his bread. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the earth. He was, then.

“Do you have a home?” Lisa asked, “Wherever it is, I can bring you back.”

The boy shook his head sharply, “I can’t…” He seemed to run out of words, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“You can help yourself to whatever food you want,” Lisa prompted, gently.

The child nodded, and let the bag he had been carrying slip from his shoulders. He looked around inside it, pulling out a whip, three long daggers, a set of smart silk clothing and finally retrieved a wrapped chunk of dried meat. He set it down on the fabric, pushing it towards her.

Lisa accepted it graciously, putting off a small piece and chewing it. It tasted like leather.

It was very strange that he would have such beautiful, high quality weaponry but no food and no shoes. His dirty clothing, too, had once been fine silk. The cuffs were charred.

“Do you have any water, please?” the boy asked, breaking Lisa from her thoughts.

Lisa pulled her water skin from her satchel and passed it to him.

The boy pulled out the stopper and took a long drink. He stared down at the remaining food wistfully. From the sharply visible bones in his arms, Lisa guessed it had been a long time since he had eaten and his stomach was tight.

“Let me see your hands,” Lisa said, packing the food away before he could force himself to eat and make himself sick.

The boy hesitated and came closer, unfolding his hands to show her raw, red palms. Old blisters covered most of the pads of his fingers and the tops of his palms. Scabs were rough over his fingers.

“You’re burnt?” Lisa asked, looking over his hands delicately.

The boy nodded.

“Luckily I still have some burn salve on me,” Lisa said, reaching into her pack to retrieve the salve and bandages. She dabbed some on his palms and rubbed them in as gently as she could. To his credit, the boy did not cry out or jerk away, simply screwing up his face as she rubbed in the stinging salve. She bandaged his hands next, up to a little over the wrist. He held his hands up protectively, reluctant to touch anything.

“Your feet next,” Lisa said, beckoning.

The boy shifted his position, presenting his feet to her. The skin was black with mud, and broken in places. She ran a finger along the sole of a foot—and felt something hard.

“Ow!” The boy jerked in her grip.

Lisa lifted the foot into the air, peering down at it, “There’s—glass in here!”

The child said nothing.

“How did…?” Lisa turned the foot slightly, watching light gleam over the bloody broken glass.

“I… walked on some,” The boy said quietly, as if he was confessing to something.

Lisa stood up, and began packing the rest of her belongings onto her horse. She wrapped the dried meat the boy had brought and tucked it into her pack of food.

“Can you help me?” The boy asked, drawing up his knees to his chest.

“I can,” Lisa said, “But I need to take you to my home. I need my microscopes, my needles, my antibiotics… You need to come with me.”

The boy stood up, backing away, “I… how do I know I can trust you? What if you hand me in to the church?”

Lisa stilled. She faced him properly, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. With as much feeling and conviction as she could, she said, “I promise I won’t. I promise you won’t come to harm with me.”

The boy faltered.

He nodded.

Lisa smiled down at him, “There isn’t any room on my horse and I can’t have you walking on that foot.”

“So how am I going to…?” The boy asked.

Lisa picked him up.

The boy went tense with surprise, “What are you—?”

“Climb on my back,” Lisa prompted, “Come on now—I can’t hold you like this forever, even though you are pretty light.”

The boy climbed onto her back. He managed to get his short legs around her torso, like a monkey. He smelled of earth and the slightly sour scent of old, untreated injury. He was strong, despite his injuries, which was a good sign.

“Are you alright, up there?” Lisa asked, stretching out. The boy’s pack was tied to the horse’s side all the weaponry and spare clothing replaced. She took her horse’s reigns again and started to lead them in the direction she had been going originally.

“Yes,” The boy said, and paused, “Can I ask what your name is?”

“Oh!” Lisa shook her head, “I have been so rude. Imagine, me talking about manners yet failing to introduce myself! My name is Lisa Dracula-Tepes, of Lupu village.”

“Lupu,” The boy repeated, “I’ve been there. It smells bad.”

Lisa laughed, “It’s a farming town. You’re smelling the manure.”

The boy shifted his grip, bandaged hands brushing Lisa’s chin.

“May I ask your name?” Lisa asked.

“I’m Trevor,” The boy said.

“Do you have a surname?”

“Belmont,” Trevor said, quietly.

“Belmont?” Lisa asked, “Of the Belmont family?”

“Y-yes,” Trevor said.

“Oh, impressive,” Lisa said, sensing he needed reassurance, “That is a Great Family, isn’t it? It means you have strong blood in you.”

“Thank you,” Trevor said, and she felt him relax.

They walked for a long while. The landscape was sharp, with dramatic rises and falls of a deep green. The crested a rise and the castle came into view. Its dark towers twisted into the air, like a tree that had been struck by lightning. Fog and low clouds obscured the highest peaks.

Trevor leaned forward to get a closer look, nearly toppling Lisa over in the process. He gripped her shoulders tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.

Trevor settled back down, “Is that where we’re going?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, “Is there something wrong?”

Trevor made a noise like he wanted to say something—but he didn’t. Instead, he rested his head on his shoulder, a kind of forlorn air coming over him.

As they walked down the steep hill, the pack horse’s side butting into them, the ground underneath them changed from the hard, beaten earth of the forest path to the soft, almost marshy grassland. The grass seemed moss-like, mounds and mounds stretching out into the distance.

The castle’s heavy door came into view as they approached. It was a strange structure, with a very long, tall set of stairs and a humongous door that could have let a giant through without so much as stooping. The stone was very, very dark.

The earth was soft under her feet, and she made almost no sound. She left her horse to wander around the foot of the stairs and approached.

As she began to climb the long stone stairs, she felt Trevor slump a little bit. After a brief moment of worry, it turned out he had only fallen asleep. The stairs were steep, and despite her relative good health, Lisa still had to pause at the top to get her breath back. After a moment, she pushed the large door open.

The sight of the dark, cavernous entrance room. There was a flourish of black and red, and her husband materialised at the top of the stairs.

“Lisa,” Vlad Dracula-Tepes called, “You’re a little late. I was—”

“Hush!” Lisa whispered.

Vlad paused, and noticed the still form of the boy slung on his wife’s back. With another flourish, the vampire appeared at her side. He tilted his head, “Is he…?”

“Alive,” Lisa said, padding towards her office under the stairs, “But tired... and injured, too.”

Vlad followed her into her office, but hung at the doorway. Lisa eased the child from her shoulders and set him down on the patient’s bed. She had brought patients into the castle before, but never one so young, and never with such a grim expression. The worry that pinched her expression didn’t suit her, Vlad thought.

“What happened?” Vlad asked, voice low.

“The church,” Lisa said, fetching her surgeon’s kick, “Will you turn the lights on? I’d like to let him rest but we mustn’t leave the wounds to fester much longer.”

Vlad reached across and flipped the light switch. Light bloomed across the room. The boy’s eyes flickered open, dull until they caught sight of the vampire. He sat up, rolling hurriedly from the bed.

“Don’t stand,” Lisa ordered, but the boy ignored her, jumping to his feet and drawing a knife that had been hidden in his long pockets. The blade was wickedly sharp.

The boy pointed the knife at Vlad, eyes sharp and dark.

“It’s alright,” Lisa said, soothingly, while her husband just stood, watching the scene with mild interest. She made her way towards the child, hands raised in a placating gesture, “Everything is fine.”

“He’s a vampire,” The boy hissed. Vlad’s eyebrow raised.

“Well… yes,” Lisa said, “But—”

Quick as a viper-striking, the boy darted around her and launched himself at Dracula. Just as quickly, the vampire caught him by the scruff of his neck and swung him into the air, held like a disobedient puppy. The boy snarled, trying to slash at Vlad with his knife, but the vampire caught his wrist and held it firmly out of range.

Out of options, the boy sunk his small, blunt teeth into Vlad’s arm where he could reach it. Vlad let him gnaw at porcelain white skin, and cast a glance over to his wife, who was looking a little startled.

“It’s alright, Trevor,” Lisa said, “He wouldn’t hurt you.”

Trevor continued to bite at Vlad’s arm. He left no mark at all, teeth sliding over flesh which was as hard and cold as stone.

“Isn’t that right, Vlad?” Lisa prompted, meaningfully.

“Of course, dear,” Vlad said, holding Trevor like one might hold a rat by it’s tail—out of clawing range, “I won’t hurt Trevor.”

“Right,” Lisa said, “So you can stop trying to bite him now.”

Trevor finally let go of Vlad’s arm, with reluctance. He hung uncomfortably, his skin drained of colour as the exertion took over. Vlad lowered him onto the ground delicately, and, half a second later, released his knife hand too.

Trevor seemed to have decided to trust him as he sheathed his knife, padding back to the bed. He didn’t take his eyes off the vampire, regarding him with a cold kind of suspicion which might have been intimidating if it wasn’t coming out of the face of a battered twelve-year-old.

“Now, let’s have another look at that foot,” Lisa said, pulling up a stool to the foot of the bed. Trevor managed to draw his eyes away from Vlad for long enough to show her his wounded feet, and, while eyes were off him, Vlad disappeared.