Disclaimer: As much as I wish otherwise, Konami owns Castlevania, not me. :(

It was raining again.

The large drops splattered against the window glass, ran in rivulets down the stone frame, dripped from the eves. The sky above was a leaden gray, the clouds heavy with unreleased water. The grounds of the castle had lost all color; everything was either gray or muddy brown. No flowers bloomed; no birds sang. The scene was a perfect match for his mood.

Mathias turned away from the window and walked back to his chair by the cold fireplace. He thought briefly about lighting a fire but decided not to. Vampires did not feel cold, had no need for warmth. Cold could not harm him.

Then why did he feel so frozen inside? Why was his heart and soul so cold? He sat down in the chair, not feeling the softness of the cushions. He looked at the empty fireplace, trying to place the reason for the cold that enveloped him and never seemed to leave him. He didn't know why it bothered him; such things were below vampires, were the problems of lowly humans. Yet, it nagged at him. Night and day, the reason of this endless frost eluded him, no matter how much he tried to figure it. It would not leave him be, no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside. He remembered that he had once been warm, but that had been years ago, before he had made his choice.

Giving in with a tired sigh, he gestured to the fireplace, and a blaze roared to life, flaring up into the chimney before settling down to consume the logs that were stacked neatly in the grate. The warmth of the fire washed over him, but it did not warm him. He could never be warmed; his soul would never feel the warmth of life again. The cold of the rain outside would always suit him better.

Stay in the rain, he told himself. It's where you belong. You have no right to feel the warmth of the sun, or the love of another. You gave that up when you accepted the power of the Crimson Stone, when you betrayed Leon. He was the most loyal friend any man could ask for, and you repaid it by stabbing him when his back was turned.

Mathias looked at the fire, and thought that he could see Leon's face, shocked and hurt, in the flames. He could remember that day as clearly as when it happened, no matter how hard he tried to forget it. He cursed his vampiric memory that would keep memories around for hundreds and hundreds of years, even as he tried to ignore that it was more than likely his guilty conscious that was keeping the memories of that morning close to the forefront of his mind.

Unable to bear seeing Leon's face, whether real or imagined, he left his chair and went back to the window, once again staring out at the cold rain and the dreary, colorless courtyard. He could feel the cold seeping through the glass and stone, filtering through the heavy material of his robes to soak into his vampiric skin. He looked down at the puddle riddled drive and saw himself and Leon running through the rain, up the gravel drive, hoping to reach shelter before they were soaked completely through. Rain was hell on leather and armor, and once inside, they would dry off, change into dry clothes, and sit in front of the fire, sipping a glass of wine, and laughing at the weather, and anyone else unlucky enough to be outside in it. He could almost see Leon's blue eyes, sparkling with mischief and laughter, droplets of water clinging to his unruly blond hair as he shook his head at the misfortune of others.

Mathias shook his head, and the images vanished before they reached the shelter of the castle doors. They had been unable to reach shelter the last time they had met, unlike so many other times before. Mathias had hoped that Leon would join him, would accept the shelter that he was offering, but Leon had refused. Mathias had been disappointed and hurt as his friend threw his offer back in his face. He had sincerely wanted Leon to join him; he had been afraid to face eternity alone. Without Leon and Elizabetha, Mathias sincerely didn't know how he was going to keep going. He didn't think that he could bear it alone. He needed someone that cared for him, near him, or he feared that he would go mad from the loneliness.

Leon had refused his offer, saying that he could not betray Sara and what she had died for. Then he had brought up Elizabetha. The idea that she would be disappointed in him had struck Mathias like a physical blow. He had been guilty and angry at himself to realize that he had not even considered her feelings when he had made his choice. Leon had been right; he had been a fool.

But he was set on his path, no matter how much he might want to go back and change it. He would stay in the rain, forever unable to find shelter, as he kept his promise to himself, and continued to curse God forevermore. It was his purpose, the one thing that kept him anchored to the shredded remains of what had once been his human soul.

He would never be able to go back, to apologize to Leon, to somehow make things right. He had watched Leon from a distance for a number of years, and it crushed him to see the younger man just as lost and miserable as he, himself, was. It was worse to know that he was responsible for the Belmont's feelings of hurt and betrayal, that he was responsible for the sadness that shone clearly in blue eyes that no longer sparkled.

It was his fault. Mathias laid his forehead against the cold glass that was damp with condensation. It was his fault; it would always be his fault. Leon had died alone and miserable, a peasant that was shunned because of the power he had used to defeat the vampire that ruled the Eternal Night. Shunned because he had been blamed for Mathias' disappearance.

Mathias would stay in the rain, forever away from the warmth of the sun or the light of friendship. He didn't deserve it. He had done the unthinkable, the unforgivable in hurting Leon. He would bear the loneliness, the misery, and the crushing sadness caused by the weight of his guilt. He knew that sooner or later, his vampirism would destroy his humanity completely, and then he would be no longer capable of feeling anything for his once closest friend, but until that time, he would live with it. He had to; he would force himself to. Until his humanity was dead, and his feelings were turned to ash, he would live with it.

Those betrayed blue eyes would never let him do anything otherwise.

It was the least he could do for the one he had once loved like a brother, for the one he had hurt so badly.