Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There it was.

Dracula's Castle.

Richter stared up at it, one hand on his shortsword. Whip or no whip, he was going to take it down.

'That'll show Leon.'

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Alucard pushed open the door with his shoulder, trying to keep Richter steady.
“Alucard?” Simon walked closer, hearing the door open. “Is that-” He looked up, his eyes falling on Richter. His eyes widened and he ran towards him. Simon reached out, trying to support Richter, but he fell to the ground with a dull thud.
“Richter?” Simon knelt next to him, rolling him onto his back. “Richter, wake up-”
“He’s dead.” Simon glanced up at Alucard.
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie about this.” Alucard growled, his hands clenched into fists. There was the sound of footsteps, and Leon walked into the room, followed by Trevor.
“What’s going on?” Leon asked, a note of concern in his voice. He must have seen Richter’s blood on his coat.
"Look at what you did." Alucard glared at Leon, pointing at Richter’s body. "He's dead." Trevor gasped quietly, his eyes following the claw marks all over his chest. "He's dead, and it's your fault."
“What?” Leon looked shocked.
"Alucard," Trevor warned. "It's not his fault-"
"It is!" Alucard turned to face him, his vision blurring. “He kicked him out, he wouldn’t have gone off alone without that!” He turned back to Leon, baring his fangs in anger. “It’s your fault, it’s all your fault!” Alucard felt his voice break as his tears started to spill over, down his cheeks. “It’s all of your faults, no one said anything, you just let him go, and now look what happened!” Alucard shouted, digging his nails into his palms. “You killed him!”
“Then why didn’t you follow him?” Leon shot back.
“Hey,” Trevor stepped in between them. “Shouting at each other isn’t going to do anything.” Trevor turned to him, putting a hand on Alucard’s shoulder.
“It’s his fault…” Alucard let himself be pulled away, into Trevor’s hug.
“It’s-” Trevor cut himself off, sensing Alucard tensing up again. “Breathe, Alucard.” Trevor squeezed him a bit. Alucard leaned against him, burying his face in Trevor’s shoulder. He could faintly hear the others shuffling around, someone picking Richter up and carrying him away…
“It’s back, that’s what killed him, he went in alone…” Alucard whispered. Trevor tensed.
“The castle?” Alucard nodded. Trevor fell silent, just holding him close. Alucard wasn't sure how long they stood there before Trevor led him away.

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Leon watched Simon drag Richter away. He should have felt upset, that was a member of his family, but he didn’t. He couldn’t feel upset. Alucard’s accusations still rang in his ears, his desperate screaming bouncing around his mind. What was he supposed to do? Apologizing wouldn’t fix anything. He was dead, and that was that. The least he could do was stay on course, give the others something to cling to. A howl of despair rang out from elsewhere in the house. Leon tensed, imagining Juste’s reaction to hearing his son was dead. He wanted to go and comfort him, but something told him that he wouldn’t help. He felt himself walking outside, out into the forest. There was a faint trail of blood from the door down into the woods, where Alucard had dragged him back. Leon slowly followed it, watching the blood trail getting thicker and thicker until he reached a pool of blood, slowly draining into the dirt. So this was where he’d died. An otherwise unremarkable patch of forest. He was so close to them, if he’d had the energy to scream they could have heard him. He wondered if Richter knew just how close he was to them. Leon kept walking, scanning the sky ahead for the castle. His foot kicked something hard in the grass. He glanced down to see Richter’s boomerang, stained with dark monster blood. He picked it up, turning the cross over in his hands, before tucking it into his belt. He’d give it to Simon, he’d know how to use it. A low rumble of thunder shook Leon from his thoughts. He glanced up, seeing the gathering storm. He needed to get back to the house before the storm hit. They’d need help digging the grave.

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Juste was yanked out of his thoughts by sudden shouting. Alucard. Sounded like a fight, and that was something he didn’t want to get involved in. He went back to writing, his pen gliding across the paper. Beautiful words blossomed from his pen, twining their way across-
“Juste?” Simon’s voice. He didn’t look up from his paper.
“Yes?” Simon hesitated before he responded.
“Alucard found Richter.” Juste looked up, spinning around to face Simon.
“He did? What happened, where is he?” Juste dashed to Simon, a note of hope in his voice. Simon looked away, shifting on his feet for a moment.
“He’s dead,” he finally said. Juste blinked, the words slowly registering in his mind. He tried to stammer something out, but he couldn’t make his tongue listen. What had been so easy just moments before now seemed impossible. “We think he tried to storm the castle alone, without the Vampire Killer.” Simon continued, still avoiding his gaze. He kept talking, but Juste wasn’t listening. He felt his eyes sting, his throat closing up. Richter was… dead? He’d left, what, a week ago? No, it had to be more. Two weeks? Three? However long ago it was… it didn’t matter now, did it. Simon was still talking, wasn’t he? “...he’s upstairs, if you want to see, but…”
Upstairs.
Juste pushed past Simon, he was running, down the hall, up the stairs, around the corner-
The door was left ajar.
He pushed it open, and there he was. Stretched out on the bed, hands folded over his stomach in a sad attempt to cover the deep claw marks that ran across his body. His blue tunic was stained a deep red and torn nearly to shreds. His weapons were gone, someone must have taken them. Juste’s eyes traveled unwillingly up to his face, smeared with blood and dirt. Someone had closed his eyes, or maybe he’d known he was dying and closed them himself. That stupid headband he insisted on wearing was still there, though it too was dyed red, soaking up blood from a head wound.
The smell of blood was overpowering.
Juste screamed a despairing howl, racing to his son’s side. He leaned over Richter’s body, running his hands over his face, watching his tears fall onto his face, leaving tiny trails through the mud. He choked out a few desperate whispers, quiet pleas for him to wake up, to still be there, somewhere, though he knew it was pointless. One hand grabbed one of Richter’s, squeezing the cold flesh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry…” He couldn’t say anything else. How could he? He was supposed to be there, to guide him and protect him, but when Richter had needed him most, he’d vanished. He’d been too scared of Leon. Too scared to say anything. And now his son was lying in front of him.
He could only hope it wasn’t painful for him.

Chapter Text

Simon was outside when the first drops of rain began to fall.

He was digging the grave, under a big tree in the yard. The rhythmic movements of the shovel were calming to him, almost like training with the Vampire Killer. It gave him time to think.

“He shouldn’t have gone off alone,” Simon sighed, stabbing at the soft ground with the shovel. “He should have stayed at least around the house, if not in it. He knew he was going to die without the whip.” He felt the rain beginning to fall harder, tapping against his face. He’d need to finish up soon.
“Why’d he have to go off alone? What did he expect from us, he did lose the whip…” But Simon couldn’t make himself mad at Richter. His face was still so clear in his mind, the sheer terror as he realized that no one would stand up for him. He leaned against the shovel, letting his thoughts fall like the rain.

Another scream rang out from in the house.

Simon glanced back, his mind turning to Juste. “He’s still there,” he murmured. He’d watched Juste rush to Richter’s body, heard the terrible howl as he soaked in the scene. That’s when he’d quietly offered to dig the grave, so he could get away from the rest of them.
“Juste’s incoherent, Alucard’s screaming, and Leon’s completely thrown off balance.” Simon shook his head. “Seems like I’m the only one with any sense left.” But no matter how much he denied it, Richter’s death had shaken him. He’d felt invincible in this world, there weren’t any curses, or creatures of the night. Now he realized that the only reason they were alive was the monsters didn’t know where they were. “And now they do know where we are. Because of-” He cut himself off. He’d heaped enough hate onto Richter. And besides, he wasn’t one to speak ill of the dead out loud. Especially if he was digging their grave. That didn’t say anything about his thoughts. He could have those.

Richter had always seemed one step behind the rest of them. He was chasing after them, constantly on their heels, but never quite catching up. Simon had quietly mocked him for it, making small jabs at him until he’d vanish into his room. Everything Richter had done, Simon and the others had done before. It didn’t matter that he was the strongest, that he was the most capable of all of them - he was simply another Belmont in a long line, over a thousand years long. The only thing they’d known him for was ending that line. And if that was all you knew about a person, that they’d ended what you and your family had worked towards for generations, you’d make judgements, and wouldn’t be ready to change them.

Thunder started to rumble above Simon, shaking him from his thoughts. He peered into the hole, guessing at its size. It seemed big enough, so he picked up the shovel and headed inside. The sky opened, and the rain began to pour down.

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It was still raining after they buried him. Trevor could hear it pounding on the roof of the house, the steady rhythm of grief. The house was otherwise silent. The accusing glares had gone away, replaced with quiet resignation. Juste was nowhere to be seen. No one really wanted to follow him.
Trevor hated this.
It was too quiet. Just because someone had died, everyone was suddenly so beat down that they couldn’t do anything about it? Not if he had anything to say about it.
“Well? What are we going to do now?” He asked the house, not really expecting an answer.
“What can we do?” Simon asked, glancing up at Trevor. “He’s dead. We can’t change that.”
“But we can get revenge,” Trevor growled, tightening his hand around the Vampire Killer. “The castle is still there, and Dracula’s still inside, waiting for one of us to wander in.”
“So he can kill us, one by one.” Simon retorted.
“Who said we were going to go one at a time? There’s no reason for us to. If we storm it together, he won’t stand a chance.”
“Can we do that? He’ll find a way to separate us.”
“Great! We’ll just get through it faster.” Trevor walked up to Simon. “Divide and conquer.”
“So who’s going?”
“Whoever wants to. Which I think is all of us, well,” Trevor glanced back, in the direction of Juste’s office, “most of us, anyway.”
“When do we leave?” Simon asked, standing up.
“Tonight. As soon as the sun sets.”

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Christopher watched the others walk down the path, into the forest. Trevor led them, a torch in one hand, the Vampire Killer in the other. The house was silent except for the quiet sobs of Juste.
Christopher didn’t know who would survive the attack. He only hoped that they’d all come back safe, with Dracula defeated.
Christopher turned away from the window. There was no point in watching, he’d know if they returned.
If.
He hated how easily his mind had said that.