Author's Note: For Jess :) Merry Christmas.

When the chemicals had finished boiling, and all was still, Wilhelmina Harker removed her spectacles from her face, setting down the equipment, and standing from her desk, content to let the liquids set for as long as they needed to with the experiment she had in mind. She had not managed any true rest for some time now, at least a few days. She could not bring herself to close her eyes for more than a few minutes at a time, a lengthy blink if anything at all. Not that she slept in the strictest sense; her body could go for some time without rest, but she did sometimes yearn for that simple shred of normalcy.

Stepping away from her workplace, she caught her reflection in the mirror over the mantle of her fireplace, where she sometimes rested vials and the like, and stared into it. Whether it was her lethargy or the chemicals in the room, she quite imagined she had seen more than one face in that mirror at that moment.

Three, perhaps, even…

Shaking her head, she turned her crystal blue eyes away for a minute, and then braced herself to look again. What she saw made her take a step back. Blinking, she saw the faces of the two men she had so deeply fallen for in the past… two men who had not turned out to be quite what she had thought at all, in any sense. They had both taken something from her, yes… but had they perhaps given her something as well?

"This is not real," she murmured dreamily to herself, shaking her head slowly back and forth, even as one of the men smiled in a 'charming' manner.

On the left, dark and eternally handsome, was her creator… the man who had made her… if one could call him a man at all. Dracula, with his penetrating gaze and wise voice, lilted by his accent; so ageless but so… flawed somehow. He had had a broken heart when Mina had met him, in London, and fallen for him. Maybe her affection could have been explained by the thrall he was so blessed with… but perhaps it was not that at all. Part of Mina believed that she had loved Dracula for a time, with everything she had been able to give. She had let him take her into him, and give her a gift that had ended up… cursing her. She had to live with the dreams and the bloodlust and the memories and the burden of vampirism… but she felt that she had been touched by Dracula in more ways than just the conventional. Her late husband had 'spared' her the full curse, but not all of it. He had only stopped her from giving in completely to the kiss. Her hand lifted subconsciously to the tall collar of her white blouse, feeling the bite marks through the fabric even as she stood there, haunted and transfixed by his gaze from the glass.

On the right, with his infallible smirk, was a man she had judged so wrongly that sometimes she despised herself for the mistake. But while she wanted to hate him with every part of her waning soul, she found she could not… at least not completely. She was not sure what had become of the beautiful but sinister Dorian Gray, but the last she had seen of him had been when she had left his manor to catch a cab away from his home… and from him as well. Their love had died, as she had phrased it to him so bluntly that night, to which he had so laconically nodded his flawless head, with pristine hair and features. She wanted to hate him for his cold demeanour and his perfect appearance and attitude… or attitude problem; she was not quite sure how to classify it. He was cocky, he was arrogant… and he was spoilt. But she had seen something in him that had drawn her to him from across that crowded hall of people all those months ago. Something like a shared passion; a haunted past that had so attracted her to this deeply complicated man.

"Of course it is," Dorian drawled. "You're not one to hallucinate, Mina dear, even with the brewing of such chemicals."

Turning her back on her mirror, she strode away from it, only to hear footsteps behind her. When she turned back, she saw both men in the room with her, no longer apparitions in the glass, but Dracula was now walking to her desk and looking at the things on it with such veiled interest that she truly believed he was there. Dorian simply stared at her expectantly, almost as if he was waiting for a greeting, or something of the like.

"What are you doing here?" Mina asked of him – them – and looked between them in a mild state of either panic or confusion… perhaps both. This did not make any sense to her, and it was frustrating to her. She did not like this lack of understanding; she never had. All her life she had sought out the answers to her problems, and it had contented her each time she'd found one, until all puzzles were solved. It was not only that, but this puzzle was somewhat more intimidating.

Dracula was dead… at least… he was supposed to be.

She had seen her husband slash him; she had seen Quincey stab him. She had seen all this; his destruction and end, yet here he was, as flawless and striking as the day she had first seen him, as he strode towards her, one hand outstretched gently as if to embrace. She meant to draw away from it, but found she could not.

"Mina," he said in that elegant voice she realised then she had missed with a passion, and she almost whimpered at the sound of it in addressing her. "Why do you fear me?"

"No…" she began in a whisper, closing her eyes. "This is not real… you… you are dead. They destroyed you."

His other hand touched to her chest, over her heart, and she gasped just noticeably.

"No, Mina…"

Mina screwed her eyes closed as Dorian sighed dramatically, and with a small growl, she opened her eyes to look at him. Her hatred flashed there in a haze of red for a moment, in which it was reflected vividly in the mirror. Dracula almost seemed discreetly touched by this display, and stroked her cheek, but Mina drew back, if only to advance on Dorian Gray.

"I do not wish you to be here…" she said to him dangerously. "I wish for you to leave, by whatever means you came. Now." While it was true that she had given her heart to the man… it was also true that he had broken it. He had turned his back on her, and neglected her. She had not liked that… not one bit. While Dracula had turned her into what she was to this day, he had never mistreated her… not in the slightest. He had been forever kind and thoughtful, embracing her into his world with open arms and an open heart, despite its never beating.

"Really, now," Dorian replied with what seemed to be surprise on his face. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"You are not my guest, because I did not invite you. Now leave."

"So you can be alone with him, Mina? Hardly. It would not be proper." Dorian brushed off a piece of dust from his jacket; a piece of dust that was never there, save for when his vanity came into play. His dark eyes met her light ones, and he stood firm.

It was Mina's turn to sigh, but hers faded into a snarl as she glared. "You burned me, Dorian. That is why you must leave. I cannot stand to look at you, for what you have done to me."

"For what I have done to you?" Dorian chuckled dryly. "Please. I was not the one to give you those… scars, Mina. Let us not forget that."

Mina glanced to Dracula over her shoulder, who simply closed and opened his eyes slowly in a drawn-out blink. But she knew him better than that. Under the surface he was keeping his wrath under lock and key; he would only abide Dorian for so long.

"You wish to know what you have done to me, Dorian?" she asked fierily, turning her eyes keenly back on him so swiftly he seemed taken aback, if only because she recognised his behaviour enough to notice; it was so veiled the casual observer would have missed it. "You wish to know of the scars you left behind? Not all scars are seen or touched."

Dorian raised a pristine and narrow brow, as if in acknowledgement.

"Very well," she said to him briskly. She built herself up, drawing in a deep breath that heaved her chest for a moment, as if to take a plunge, before she turned and walked over to the window. She could not look him in the face during this confession as to what he had done to her. "Sometimes I feel like an insect," she explained coldly, in a distant tone of voice. "I see the light and so often I run for cover." She turned back on him, her eyes fixing on his face viciously. "This is your influence; your 'gift' to me. You made me… I…"

"Yes, Mina?"

His lazy and nonchalant tone of voice made her shake with fury. How could he act so indifferent when she was trying to explain why she had needed to leave him?

"You are a cold and selfish man, with no heart, no soul and no feelings for anyone other than yourself," she snarled. "And you showed me the depths of your greed; your vanity and your pride… your arrogance and your spite." Shaking her head, she let her head fall slowly into one of her raised hands. "And that affected me more than I care to admit." Pausing to draw in a much-needed breath, she lifted tear-filled eyes to say, "And I hate you for that, Dorian. I hate you for hurting me like you did. I did not deserve it…"

"And you did not deserve her," Dracula hissed in Dorian's direction, catching the aristocrat off guard as he padded predatorily towards the man. Dorian turned his eyes and his head, but did not draw away. "Do you not see the beauty? The grace? The… spirit, of this woman…"

Mina was taken aback. This, she had not expected. Of course, she had believed Dracula dead, so none of this was what she had expected, at all, when she had stood from that desk. She had been fully intending to make herself some tea.

"What you have done is unforgivable, 'sir'," Dracula persisted heatedly, his disgust lacing his words like a venom. Though she could not be sure, she thought she saw his canines just prominent in his mouth. "A woman such as this is to be respected, cherished and treasured… treated for what she is. You are a 'man' who wastes his treasures; a spoilt soul who takes what he wants and ruins it." His eyes darkened sinisterly. "What you have done to this dear woman disgusts me… and I am afraid I cannot abide it."

Mina closed her eyes, even as Dorian began speaking, "And, good sir, just what are you going to–"

When there was the sound of cloth shifting and perhaps a scuffle, Mina opened her eyes quickly, alarmed by the way Dorian's voice had cut off, dismayed to find Dracula had sunk his fangs into the other man's throat.

"No!" she cried, much quieter than should have been expected, even as she blinked in horror, drawing back and away from the display, as Dorian tried to break free.

Even as her back hit the wall, she slid down it, murmuring to herself and embracing her head between her arms, trembling subtly, just as Dorian tried to cry out.

… And then she opened her eyes.

Staring, wide-eyed, where she had apparently awoken, she realised her head was resting on her arms. She quickly rose it, brushing back hair that had fallen and been swept out of her bun, looking left and right quickly and with alarm. Over her shoulders she gazed… and then her eyes settled on the mirror. She blinked, wiping her eyes just a fraction, before she looked back to the chemicals, now cold. Without a care for her abandoned experiment, she stood slowly and cautiously, and made her way to the mirror. Peering into it warily, as if a monster were to jump out at her, she found it empty… she was alone.

A slight frown found its way onto her face, disturbing her brow, even as one of her hands lifted and touched gently to the perfect, clean surface of the mirror, feeling the cool glass beneath her fingertips.

They had seemed so real…

"A dream…" she whispered. "All a dream."