Work Text:
When Trevor had suggested he was the one who should be captured, he admittedly didn’t think about it as much as he should have.
He felt naked without his weapons, and had seemingly forgotten the taste of floor when he was tossed unceremoniously down into his cell. He pushed himself up and spit as the cell door was shut and locked, and used his arm to wipe off the blood from his lip. He listened to the guards who’d dragged him in walk away before he pushed himself into a sitting position to get a better look at his new digs.
It was bigger than he was used to. Wooden, too, which was strange. He reached out to test one of the bars and—
“Ouch,” he hissed, pulling his hand back. Some kind of magic shield to keep the hopeful away, perhaps?
“It doesn’t work,” a delicate voice said from nearby. “I’ve tried.”
Trevor turned to see that he wasn’t alone in the cells. His neighbor sat towards the center of his own cell, in servant’s clothing, knees up and arms crossed, watching Trevor with a resigned expression on his warm brown face and grayish-blue eyes. His silver hair was disheveled. As Trevor’s eyes adjusted to the weak torchlight, he spotted bruises dotting every part of his neighbor's revealed skin. Silver Hair was clearly on the end of a healing black eye. And there was a collar around his neck tied to a leather belt that was clipped to a catch on one of the cell’s outside walls.
Trevor shook the hand he'd used to reach for the bar and stood up, walking over to the shared wall wth his new neighbor. “What doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Breaking the bars,” Silver Hair replied. He was studying Trevor just as much as Trevor was studying him. “The magic on them is… old. Meant to keep in penned food. And Carmilla likes mages, sometimes. Weak ones, but… still.”
“You know about magic, then?” Trevor asked, sitting down by the wall.
Silver Hair huffed with a sad smile and looked away. “A little. Nothing useful.”
“I’m Trevor,” Trevor offered.
“…Hector,” Silver Hair replied.
“So what are you in here for?” Trevor asked. “Food?”
That sad smile was back. “After a fashion. More like they don’t trust me for long outside of here.”
“So you work for them?” Trevor asked, frowning. He didn’t think the man was a vampire. Trevor could already tell he didn’t have fangs. And the leash was... odd. He'd think a pet would be kept in one of the monsters' quarters.
“Yes. Sometimes.”
“Why? What's in it for you, if you end up here?”
“They don’t like the word ‘no’.”
“Ah. So you’re a slave, then.”
“I imagine my lot is much easier than most slaves. And most slaves are born into it, or wrongfully stolen from their lives. I... deserve this.”
“Really? And what did you do to deserve it?”
“I served Vlad Dracula, in his crusade to end humanity.”
Trevor blinked. “But… you’re human. Why…?” He frowned, recalling talks with Adrian. “You were one of his forgemasters.”
“...Yes.”
“So you helped butcher a lot of people.” Trevor's expression darkened. The man before him didn't look like he could even hurt a mouse, but Trevor had seen frail-looking creatures rip apart scores of people before.
The smile fell away and Hector’s fingers tightened on his arms. “Yes. I did.”
When Hector didn't continue, Trevor considered him for a bit, then scratched his neck. “You know in most prisoner scenarios, I’d imagine you’d want to build rapport with your fellow prisoners. Yet you’re not doing that.”
“Am I not?” Hector’s voice was only vaguely surprised, mimicking Trevor’s soft, almost gamely tone. Like Hector had purposefully spilled wine on someone he disliked at a party, but was making a faux attempt to make it look like an accident to rub it in.
“Admittedly maybe I would be impressed by your murderous capabilities and decide you’re a good companion for a breakout attempt,” Trevor said. “But I know that forgemasters need physical objects to channel through, at least for most things. So right now you’re not very useful in a fight.”
“I’m not very useful even with my hammer,” Hector replied, doing that huff smile again. “In a fight. Perhaps to a butterfly that might wander into my face and cause me to sneeze.”
Trevor snorted. “So what…? You’re into the whole bondage thing? Or… you know from the insignia on my shirt that you’ve been studying that I’m a Belmont. And you want to give me reason to kill you?”
“That’s a fascinating accusation,” Hector replied, looking at Trevor sidelong, now. “Considering that you’re trapped in a cell of your own, with no apparent weapons. Although I’ve heard that Belmonts don’t need physical weapons to be dangerous. You can use your bodies as weapons… and then there’s all that knowledge you’re taught.” He scoffed. “And then, of course, there’s the theory that I want someone to kill me.”
“Well, Hector, take it from someone who knows the look personally: it’s very obvious to me that you want someone to kill you.”
Hector glanced up at him sharply, glaring.
Trevor merely watched him.
Hector scoffed again and looked away. “Well. It’s just a theory anyway.”
There was a clang as a door opened, and they both looked up when someone walked in. Trevor watched as an average-sized woman walked in, moving past Trevor’s cell. She wore a white fur cloak, and had long dark red hair. She glanced briefly at Trevor, smiling and flashing red eyes at him, before passing on to Hector’s cell.
Trevor glanced at Hector, who hadn’t moved to stand up, but seemed entirely focused on the vampire. Trevor noticed his fingers were tight on his arms.
“Time for work, pet,” the vampire purred, unclipping the leather leash.
Hector started to push himself up, but the woman yanked the leash, forcing him to quickly stand and hit the cell wall with a grunt. His hands hit the bars and Trevor heard a faint buzzing as the spell lit up. Hector didn’t pull away, though, as the vampire leaned in, smiling at him fondly. She chuckled as a guard came over and unlocked the door, letting Hector fall through the opening to the vampire’s feet.
“Come now, Hector,” the vampire said, smiling still. “Will I have to drag you again?”
Hector quickly pushed himself up and stood, staring at the ground. The woman smirked and turned, walking back towards the door, Hector following meekly behind her.
Hector didn’t look at Trevor once as he passed by.
Trevor was meditating some time later when the dungeon door opened. They’d brought food earlier, and the hole in the floor at the corner of his cell for relieving oneself didn’t seem to bother them, so Trevor wondered if this was when the torture began.
Instead, a guard led Hector along to his cell. Trevor noticed that Hector was limping. The guard shoved Hector into his cell and locked the door, tying up the leash, before heading back out.
Hector fell to the ground and curled up on himself, groaning.
“Well… I won’t ask if you’re all right,” Trevor said, moving back to their shared wall. “What the fuck did they do?”
Hector didn’t reply. He curled in tighter on himself, and grunted when it jiggled one of his legs.
“Hector, talk to me.”
“…Why?” came the weak reply. Even quieter than before he’d been taken. “Why do you care? Want all the lovely little details?”
“Well, I’ve got nowhere to go,” Trevor replied. “So if you want to vent or anything, I’m all ears.” He shrugged. He scratched his nose. "Maybe I see someone hurt and... even knowing what you've done, I still feel something."
Hector snorted and pushed himself up into a sitting position. When the torchlight fell on his face, Trevor could see the bright new bruising of a large backhand. And a newly split lip.
“What happened?” Trevor asked, quietly.
Hector grumbled and cringed as he pushed his right leg out. “Who knows? They’re never happy with my progress on anything, so. Carmilla came in to, ah, what word did you use? Vent? Perhaps they ran out of punching bags in the soldier barracks. Although she was… relatively tame, today.”
“Fuck,” Trevor replied.
“…Yes,” Hector replied, with that not-smile of his.
“So this happens often?” Trevor asked.
“Not… every minute of the day, but most of the times I go out there, I suppose. Not every time. They like to leave me guessing. At one point I even thought there was some way to have 'good behavior' around her. But… I think she was just bored that week and trying it out for a change of pace.” He rubbed his thigh and swallowed. “They can’t do all that much, anyway. They need me for my abilities, and I’m even more useless if I can’t work.”
Trevor pursed his lips, and thought for a bit, listening as Hector tried to get somewhat comfortable. Eventually, Trevor asked, “What would you do if you could leave?”
Hector scoffed. “Run as far as I could before I died of exposure or blood loss or hunger, probably. Or something ate me.”
“I mean if you could get away from here without dying,” Trevor said, rolling his eyes.
“…I’d go home. I think. Although it’s probably ransacked by now. Even an empty hut is a place someone else can make use of. So I guess I’d just… find a quiet hole in the world where no one could ever bother me again, and stay there for the remainder of my days.”
“Sounds bleak,” Trevor said.
Hector smiled. “You asked.”
“And it’s just theory anyway, right?”
Hector looked at him, slight surprise on his face. Trevor was smiling.
Hector smiled lightly as well. “Yes. Yes it is.” After a while, Hector asked, “And you? What would you do?”
Trevor scratched his neck. “Oh… return to my friends. On to the next adventure.”
“Sounds exciting. I guess… depending on what it is you think is an adventure.”
“You sound exactly like two of my best friends,” Trevor replied. “Drinking in a pub isn’t an adventure, Trevor. Getting into fights isn’t fun, Trevor. Getting yourself new clothes isn’t difficult, Trevor.”
Hector snorted, then coughed, and snorted again.
Trevor realized he was laughing, quietly. He couldn't help smiling slightly himself. “Oh well you think it’s funny. You should meet Adrian’s tailor. That woman could strip paint from walls. But in a colorful way. With a headstone that read, ‘Here’s an artfully suited up pile of paint scrapings.’”
Hector laughed again, a bit louder, then grimaced, rubbing his stomach. He still smiled as he glanced at Trevor. “You’re silly.”
“I do try.” It was odd to see Hector smiling, but Trevor thought he’d like to see more of it. The man had a sweet smile. Even if he was a mass murderer. Trevor rolled his eyes at that thought and looked away.
“…I’m sorry,” Hector said, quietly. “Did I… Did I do something?”
“What? No. Well… It’s complicated.”
“Well… I’ve got nowhere to go,” Hector offered, smiling slightly at him.
Trevor laughed. “I really should introduce you to my friends, you’d love them. Right up there with throwing my crap right back at me.” Trevor leaned back. “Very well.”
They were sleeping when the dungeon door clanged open. Trevor didn’t move, watching through narrow eyes as the vampire who seemed to like Hector most – she came most often to collect him – walked down the hall towards Hector’s cell. Hector had said her name was ‘Lenore’.
Hector murmured and pushed himself up unsuccessfully. He’d returned from his most recent collection with a new black eye. Trevor hadn't been there long - admittedly time was hard to track wherever they were - but in the span of a short time, Hector had been taken for work five times, and always came back with new injuries.
“No, pet,” Lenore purred. She unhooked the leash and opened the door herself, stepping inside. “No need to get up.”
“Lenore, what…?”
“I’m so cold, darling,” she replied. She knelt down on the floor, straddling him, letting her fur coat surround them.
Trevor didn’t even bother pretending to be asleep at this point. Though there was nothing he could do. He hadn’t managed to break the spell on the bars. They hadn’t collected him once. The guards never responded to his taunts. And Sypha should be on her way, but…
So he sat up and glared at the vampire. “What the fuck do you want with him now?”
Lenore ignored him, reaching down to fuss with Hector’s clothes.
Hector himself tried to push himself away from her, but seemed trapped by her, which wasn’t surprising, given the average strength of a vampire versus a human. “Lenore, please—”
“Be a good boy for me, Hector. You know how I like it.” Lenore leaned down and he turned his face away. She chuckled and kissed him along his cheek, making him gasp when she touched part of his bruise.
“Leave him alone!” Trevor snarled.
Lenore reached down and sat up as she smiled. “Well at least part of you is happy to see me.”
“I’m not…! That’s…! Please, Lenore, I don’t want—!”
“I said leave him alone!” Trevor yelled.
Lenore fumbled for a time, still ignoring Trevor, chuckling as Hector grunted, then leaned her head back blissfully. “Oh darling, you feel so wonderful.”
“Damn monster,” Trevor snarled, banging his hand against the bars, ignoring the buzz against his fingers. “Don’t you people torture him enough?”
“…You feel wonderful, Lenore,” Hector said, quietly.
Trevor frowned, and looked down. Hector was watching the vampire, smiling.
Lenore looked down as well and her face lit up. “There you are, pet. I knew you were good.”
“Only for you.”
Lenore smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips. Hector reached out to brush her chest. She moaned pleasantly.
Trevor turned away, disgusted. Then the smell of fire met Trevor’s nose. He frowned, confused, trying not to pay too much attention to the horror show next to him.
Then Lenore screamed and shot up and off of Hector. Trevor looked back at her. The entire front of her body was covered in blue flames and she tried to claw it off before it devoured her entirely.
Hector sat up and banged his hand down to the floor, making a piercing ringing noise. Lenore’s form crumbled away and slowly reformed into something… truly monstrous. Trevor couldn’t watch.
When he finally turned back, he saw a large, dark creature that hissed and went silent. It vaguely resembled an enormous bat, with dripping hair. It had blue eyes and watched Hector from the doorway.
Hector pushed himself up, stumbling to his knees.
“Didn’t take off… her jewelry… this time…” Hector raised the brooch he’d grabbed while Lenore was otherwise distracted for Trevor to see, smiling, then pushed himself up to stand, swaying a bit.
“Damn,” Trevor said, quietly.
The beast moved aside so that Hector could exit the cell. Hector removed the key and moved to Trevor’s, going through the keyring to reach the one for Trevor’s cell. As the door opened, Hector staggered, and Trevor reached out to catch him before he fell, fully, on the floor. Hector was breathing hard.
“Thank you,” Trevor said, helping him back into a standing position, but with one arm over Trevor’s shoulder.
“Seemed the only human thing to do,” Hector said, quietly, smiling at him. And for once, it seemed genuine. “Not that I’m very familiar with that.”
“We should get out of here. The guards…”
“She usually tells them to leave for a few hours when she… Well. She doesn’t want the screaming calling Carmilla. That happened once, and Carmilla… wasn’t happy about it. We should have a window of time of some kind. Though I’m not sure… The castle is heavily guarded. It might be we’ll end up right back here.”
Trevor smiled. “You turned a vampire into a monster bat with a piece of jewelry.”
Hector huffed a laugh. “Yes.”
“Well I think between that, and our new friend,” he nodded to the bat creature, “And my not-so-inconsequential physicality, we should make some dent in this place. Particularly if I can find where they stashed my weapons. Dramatically evil types like to store them by the dungeon so that shouldn’t be a major problem. And I’ve got friends coming. Or possibly here already. They’ve been getting close for the past week, and this mark my friend gave me has been hot for the past hour or so.”
“Mark?”
“For communication.” Trevor showed his forearm, where the cloth had been pulled away to reveal the mark Sypha had drawn on him. “We needed to know the castle’s precise location. My friends were supposed to follow me, to scout it out. I hope they didn’t run into too much trouble, for it’s been a long time.”
“Then let’s go find out,” Hector said. “If… If you don’t mind my company.”
Trevor considered him. This man who, in other circumstances, Trevor might… But they’d get to that. Later. Once the vampire and other monster-infested castle was behind them. “I don’t think I mind at all,” Trevor said, resettling his hold and letting the bat lead the way towards the dungeon door.