"I couldn't have left." He blurts this out without thinking about it, nose to nose with Herbert still, his own hands still cradling his face. It's funny...he doesn't seem so cold anymore, now that Alfred has turned. The reality of it all hasn't quite had time to set in, perhaps, but...for now? For now it's okay.

"I couldn't. You were crying for me, I saw you. And I don't...I don't think I have anyone else in my life who would have done that."

It's a depressing thought, but it's the truth, isn't it? His mother has been dead for a few years, his Father distant and clinical - the Professor would likely have said a word or two, but may well have already replaced him.

He smiles, and it's...bittersweet. His fangs have settled properly now, the same pearly white as the rest of his well-maintained teeth. "So I...told Death no. That you needed me."