"Yes of course, of course my dear. I'll help you back to bed." He's trying desperately to stay strong, not to cry, to be brave for his wonderful boy, his Solin.
Herbert wraps an arm around Solin, under his arms, and lifts him to at least be half standing. Enough to turn him and get him sitting on the bed. "Lean back against the pillows, darling. I'll get your legs up on the bed."
At full health, Solin had been so strong, capable. He could lift a sheep, bales of feed....and he would regularly pick up Herbert for fun.
So it's in stark contrast in this moment that he can't even stand up unassisted, his breath coming in thin, wet rattles. He's wasted a bit, feels thin, frail.
He leans heavy back on the bed, green eyes fluttering, long callused fingers - so very like Alfred's, aren't they? - clutching at the shawl he has wound around his shoulders for warmth.
"Thank you, my dear. I...I had to stoke - hhhh - the fire, and everything went...everything went black."
"I'll stoke the fire for you, of course. Can't have you catching a chill, can we?" he fusses, helping Solin get his legs onto the bed as well, sitting propped up against pillows. He tucks the blankets in around him and goes to tend to the fire to make sure it's nice and hot.
"Do you think if I got you some water, you could drink that?"
"You're so good to me, love," he rasps weakly, managing a little smile despite it all. Always smiling, right until the end. He watches Herbert blearily, and from this outside perspective, the dream walking vampire will see something he never got to see before -
The tears Solin shed and wiped away when his back was turned. The look of resignation, of sorrow. He knows.
But the smile is back again when young Herbert looks. "Yes...please. It tastes like I have been...hhhh...sucking on fence nails....."
The sight of the hastily wiped away tears makes the real Herbert's chest clench, like a fist squeezing his heart, while his dream self fusses over getting Solin a glass of water and joining him on the bed again.
And once again - when Herbert steps away, Solin watches him like he can't bear to stop, like he's trying to memorize every part of him.
He takes the glass gratefully in shaking hands, taking a drink, the water turning pink from making contact with his lips and tongue. It's a struggle for him not to choke, to try and stifle his cough.
He is quiet for a moment, leaning on Herbert.
"I'm... I'm glad you came here tonight, Herbert." He struggles to keep his composure. Trying to be strong. "Today has...has been.... difficult."
A cough shakes him, and he fumbles for the rag in his pocket, once unbleached white cloth...now completely soaked, stained dark red.
This particular night is likely to start to be all too familiar.
"Of course I'd come. I wouldn't miss it for the world." The scent of blood is strong, and Herbert hates himself to his very core that he finds the smell appetizing, of all things. That he craves it. What sort of monster is he, that he can think of his hunger at a time like this?
Solin coughs and Herbert rubs slow circles over his back, hoping to ease the cough a little. "Tell me how to help?"
He stops. He can't finish that thought, and in spite of himself, his eyes well up. His expression is that of someone who has to say something, but doesn't know how to begin.
Under Herbert's hand, he's shaking, the coughing percussive and resounding and wet, too wet. When he pulls the rag away from his lips, it's so saturated that it's soaked through to his hand, and he looks at it in horror before looking to Herbert.
"...My dear, I...." He stops, hesitating. "There is...there are things...I will need you to do for me. But you...you aren't going to like them. And I need you to - hhhh! - to listen."
"Here, my love -- " Herbert tugs his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs at Solin's lips before pressing the cloth into his hand. It pains him so, to see Solin like this. So weak, so pale. And his cough sounds like it's getting worse by the minute.
Gently, in shaking fingers, he takes the handkerchief - it's clean, compared to his, delicate and soft, smelling of roses. Looking at it makes him want to cry, but he keeps trying to bite it back. If he starts to cry, it's only going to make this harder.
"...All right, my dear. When - when you leave here, before dawn...I need you to - to make noise. So that someone will come, and know-"
He chokes - wobbling, leaning harder against his lover, blood soaking into the cloth in a spreading stain. Swallowing hard, he continues, hoarsely.
"...And know that the...the flock will...will need someone."
Warily, he looks Herbert in the eyes, letting the implication fall upon him.
"Don't talk like that," he says, more sharply than he means to. He doesn't want to -- can't think of Solin dying. Not now, not like this. "You're -- you'll be fine. Just a bad day, that's all.
But yes, of course I'll look after you're sheep while you're not feeling well."
The young shepherd winces at the reaction - a couple of tears track down his cheeks, his hand shaking around the glass of water.
"Herbert. My love. Please...please promise me."
He tries to take in a breath and it sticks a little in his chest - another cough squeezes his lungs, rattles him, sends blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His voice is shallow when he speaks again.
"I need you to promise me...so that - so that when I - when I fall asleep, I...."
He chokes again, but this time on tears that he can't hold back any longer.
And Herbert is crying, too, the blood dripping down to mingle with Solin's on his sleeve. "I promise. I'll take care of your sheep. I'll -- I'll make sure that --
Oh Solin," Herbert sobs and pulls Solin close to cradle him against his chest, petting his sweatdamp hair.
When he is pulled close, he clings back, shaking all over, the sound of his breath a sickly gurgling in his chest. He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave Herbert, but the choice has been taken away from him, and he knows that.
So all he can do is hold him, reaching up to wipe at his tears with his roughened thumbs.
"I'm sorry, Herbert...I - I wanted to be...to be strong about this, but I'm...."
More blood, a thin groan of agony that he can't stifle.
"...I'm...scared, my love. S-stay...stay with me?"
"There's nowhere else I would rather be than here at your side. I will stay with you as long as you want me to."
He can't help the tears rolling down his cheeks, the small hiccups here and there that he tries to hide. The way he holds Solin a little too close, a little too tight. There's nothing he can do to help his lover, and it's killing him.
Solin would never begrudge Herbert his tears... he says nothing of them, makes nothing of those sobs, because of course. Of course this must be terrible for him; eternity stretching ahead of his lover while the young shepherd has...so little time left.
"Thank you," he rasps, glad to be enveloped in Herbert's arms. Another fit takes him, the cloth held to his mouth seeping from white to red quickly, too quickly.
The pain, at least, is starting to yield to a strange stillness. It doesn't stem the heartache, but it does give him back the ability to smile, sweet and sad.
"...If I could mend the fabric of fate," he wheezes, staring up into his lover's face, "I would join every thread that would give us more time, Herbert. I - I love you with everything in me, and that will never, never change."
"It's not fair." He cups his hand over Solin's pale cheek and presses a soft kiss to his bloody lips. Horrified with himself at the urge to lick all that blood away, to taste more of him.
"It's not fair. We should have more time. How dare the world take you from me this soon. You have my whole heart, my whole soul. All of me. I would do anything to keep you, my love."
Oh, that kiss - Solin savors it, holding on to it for as long as he can. He knows how hard it must be, with all the blood...and when they pull back, he takes care not to look at Herbert's fangs.
It says so much about how Herbert feels for him, how composed he is being. The vampirism has never scared Solin, not once, other than the fear of keeping his lover safe. But he knows Herbert must be thinking so poorly of himself, and he wants to give him no reason to take that further.
"It isn't fair, no. And - and I know that you would, my dear. I-"
He blinks a few times, trying to clear his vision, but it's fading. He's fighting it, fighting his hardest to stay as long as he can, trying to look serene in the face, but his hands behind Herbert's back white-knuckled, nails drawing blood from his palms.
"I don't - I don't know what comes next, but I - hhhh! - I would turn my back on heaven itself to - to remain with you...."
Somewhere from the furthest, darkest corner of the room, there is a soft sigh, the sound of wind over a graveyard. The dream walker might notice a lithe figure, leaning on the wall. Waiting.
This must be the figure that Alfred saw, the night Herbert almost lost him. -- Alfred. Alfred, who is here with him now, Alfred, the one having this dream. This dream that so clearly connects Solin to Alfred. Perhaps that is why Death let Alfred come back, after having stolen Solin from him.
Herbert watches himself embrace Solin on the bed, sees the way Solin's nails bite into his palm as he struggles against the pain.
They're talking quietly, whispering reassurances to each other. But the dream is starting to fade around him. It's almost time to go.
The dream is fading, time going disjointed as the scene progresses - to Solin's end, to where Alfred's nightmares had ended before, murky and complicated...but even as everything else disappears, a piece of the scene remains, stubborn. Something that someone wants the real Herbert to see.
Solin's spirit recoils from his body, tugged at the elbow by the dark-clad figure - but he pulls away, fighting his way to stand over young Herbert. Bright green eyes determined, he resists the pull of Death for long enough to take his spindle from the fastener at his waist, pulling from it the end of a long crimson thread.
Stooping down, he ties it around young Herbert's wrist.
"Wait for me, my dear. I will come back to you. No matter how many lives it takes to find you. I swear it on my very blood."
As the dream fades away, Solin is pulled past the real Herbert into the darkness...and just for a moment, he looks up, knowingly, and he smiles.
The red thread. The very one that Alfred described to him, after he was pulled back from the brink of death. After he pulled himself back. The red thread that connects them across lifetimes. It's all true, then. The birthmark, the braid, and now the dream prove that.
Herbert steps back from the dream and nestles against Alfred's chest, finally able to close his eyes and rest easy, knowing that Solin had found him again.
When night falls again, Herbert awakens and pulls Alfred close against him. Peppering his hair and cheeks and forehead and every bit of him he can reach within the confines of the crypt with soft, sweet little kisses.
As Alfred awakens, he blinks with a sleepy smile as he's kissed all over. "Mnh, good evening, Engel," he yawns, wits not quite catching up for a moment or two before he realizes what was said.
"Wait - did something happen? I didn't go anywhere, did I?"
Herbert's brows furrow faintly at that. "Your dream. The nightmare you had last night. I watched it, because you were whimpering and I wanted to see if I could help.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-01-17 02:29 am (UTC)Herbert wraps an arm around Solin, under his arms, and lifts him to at least be half standing. Enough to turn him and get him sitting on the bed. "Lean back against the pillows, darling. I'll get your legs up on the bed."
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Date: 2022-01-17 02:56 am (UTC)So it's in stark contrast in this moment that he can't even stand up unassisted, his breath coming in thin, wet rattles. He's wasted a bit, feels thin, frail.
He leans heavy back on the bed, green eyes fluttering, long callused fingers - so very like Alfred's, aren't they? - clutching at the shawl he has wound around his shoulders for warmth.
"Thank you, my dear. I...I had to stoke - hhhh - the fire, and everything went...everything went black."
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Date: 2022-01-17 03:05 am (UTC)"Do you think if I got you some water, you could drink that?"
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Date: 2022-01-17 03:12 am (UTC)The tears Solin shed and wiped away when his back was turned. The look of resignation, of sorrow. He knows.
But the smile is back again when young Herbert looks. "Yes...please. It tastes like I have been...hhhh...sucking on fence nails....."
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Date: 2022-01-17 03:39 am (UTC)"There you are, love. Sip slowly."
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Date: 2022-01-17 03:52 am (UTC)He takes the glass gratefully in shaking hands, taking a drink, the water turning pink from making contact with his lips and tongue. It's a struggle for him not to choke, to try and stifle his cough.
He is quiet for a moment, leaning on Herbert.
"I'm... I'm glad you came here tonight, Herbert." He struggles to keep his composure. Trying to be strong. "Today has...has been.... difficult."
A cough shakes him, and he fumbles for the rag in his pocket, once unbleached white cloth...now completely soaked, stained dark red.
This particular night is likely to start to be all too familiar.
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Date: 2022-01-18 04:56 am (UTC)Solin coughs and Herbert rubs slow circles over his back, hoping to ease the cough a little. "Tell me how to help?"
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Date: 2022-01-18 05:28 am (UTC)He stops. He can't finish that thought, and in spite of himself, his eyes well up. His expression is that of someone who has to say something, but doesn't know how to begin.
Under Herbert's hand, he's shaking, the coughing percussive and resounding and wet, too wet. When he pulls the rag away from his lips, it's so saturated that it's soaked through to his hand, and he looks at it in horror before looking to Herbert.
"...My dear, I...." He stops, hesitating. "There is...there are things...I will need you to do for me. But you...you aren't going to like them. And I need you to - hhhh! - to listen."
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Date: 2022-01-18 05:40 am (UTC)"Anything I can do for you, I will."
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Date: 2022-01-18 05:50 am (UTC)"...All right, my dear. When - when you leave here, before dawn...I need you to - to make noise. So that someone will come, and know-"
He chokes - wobbling, leaning harder against his lover, blood soaking into the cloth in a spreading stain. Swallowing hard, he continues, hoarsely.
"...And know that the...the flock will...will need someone."
Warily, he looks Herbert in the eyes, letting the implication fall upon him.
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Date: 2022-01-18 06:15 am (UTC)But yes, of course I'll look after you're sheep while you're not feeling well."
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Date: 2022-01-18 06:22 am (UTC)"Herbert. My love. Please...please promise me."
He tries to take in a breath and it sticks a little in his chest - another cough squeezes his lungs, rattles him, sends blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His voice is shallow when he speaks again.
"I need you to promise me...so that - so that when I - when I fall asleep, I...."
He chokes again, but this time on tears that he can't hold back any longer.
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Date: 2022-01-18 06:34 am (UTC)Oh Solin," Herbert sobs and pulls Solin close to cradle him against his chest, petting his sweatdamp hair.
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Date: 2022-01-18 06:46 am (UTC)When he is pulled close, he clings back, shaking all over, the sound of his breath a sickly gurgling in his chest. He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave Herbert, but the choice has been taken away from him, and he knows that.
So all he can do is hold him, reaching up to wipe at his tears with his roughened thumbs.
"I'm sorry, Herbert...I - I wanted to be...to be strong about this, but I'm...."
More blood, a thin groan of agony that he can't stifle.
"...I'm...scared, my love. S-stay...stay with me?"
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Date: 2022-01-19 02:38 am (UTC)He can't help the tears rolling down his cheeks, the small hiccups here and there that he tries to hide. The way he holds Solin a little too close, a little too tight. There's nothing he can do to help his lover, and it's killing him.
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Date: 2022-01-19 02:52 am (UTC)"Thank you," he rasps, glad to be enveloped in Herbert's arms. Another fit takes him, the cloth held to his mouth seeping from white to red quickly, too quickly.
The pain, at least, is starting to yield to a strange stillness. It doesn't stem the heartache, but it does give him back the ability to smile, sweet and sad.
"...If I could mend the fabric of fate," he wheezes, staring up into his lover's face, "I would join every thread that would give us more time, Herbert. I - I love you with everything in me, and that will never, never change."
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Date: 2022-01-19 02:58 am (UTC)"It's not fair. We should have more time. How dare the world take you from me this soon. You have my whole heart, my whole soul. All of me. I would do anything to keep you, my love."
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Date: 2022-01-19 03:15 am (UTC)It says so much about how Herbert feels for him, how composed he is being. The vampirism has never scared Solin, not once, other than the fear of keeping his lover safe. But he knows Herbert must be thinking so poorly of himself, and he wants to give him no reason to take that further.
"It isn't fair, no. And - and I know that you would, my dear. I-"
He blinks a few times, trying to clear his vision, but it's fading. He's fighting it, fighting his hardest to stay as long as he can, trying to look serene in the face, but his hands behind Herbert's back white-knuckled, nails drawing blood from his palms.
"I don't - I don't know what comes next, but I - hhhh! - I would turn my back on heaven itself to - to remain with you...."
Somewhere from the furthest, darkest corner of the room, there is a soft sigh, the sound of wind over a graveyard. The dream walker might notice a lithe figure, leaning on the wall. Waiting.
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Date: 2022-01-19 03:36 am (UTC)Herbert watches himself embrace Solin on the bed, sees the way Solin's nails bite into his palm as he struggles against the pain.
They're talking quietly, whispering reassurances to each other. But the dream is starting to fade around him. It's almost time to go.
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:12 am (UTC)Solin's spirit recoils from his body, tugged at the elbow by the dark-clad figure - but he pulls away, fighting his way to stand over young Herbert. Bright green eyes determined, he resists the pull of Death for long enough to take his spindle from the fastener at his waist, pulling from it the end of a long crimson thread.
Stooping down, he ties it around young Herbert's wrist.
"Wait for me, my dear. I will come back to you. No matter how many lives it takes to find you. I swear it on my very blood."
As the dream fades away, Solin is pulled past the real Herbert into the darkness...and just for a moment, he looks up, knowingly, and he smiles.
"I love you, Herbert. And I always will."
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:16 am (UTC)Herbert steps back from the dream and nestles against Alfred's chest, finally able to close his eyes and rest easy, knowing that Solin had found him again.
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:28 am (UTC)Stirring a little, Alfred sniffles just once more, wrapping his arms around Herbert, mumbling low and sweet without opening his eyes.
"...Found you...my dear Engel...."
And just like that, he slips back into peaceful slumber.
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:44 am (UTC)"I'm so happy to have you back, my love."
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:49 am (UTC)"Wait - did something happen? I didn't go anywhere, did I?"
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Date: 2022-01-19 04:51 am (UTC)Do you remember your dream from last night?"
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