Disclaimer: I do not Own Young Dracula, or any of it's characters...
This is my first Young Dracula Fic, I would very much appreciate Reviews. ^^ Robin Branaugh being my favourite character, [Vlad a Close Second] this is about them, but not Slash...unless someone asks really nicely...
~*Dream of Me...*~
Chapter 1: Screaming in the Dark...
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Rising up in a giant, gasping panic; bedsheets fell back from his heaving form, as sweat-soaked as his glistening brow in the dim light. Dark hair was plastered to it; frantically he scrabbled with clammy palms to remove the wet strands and breath normally, as air forced itself into reluctant lungs like a drowning man...
It couldn't have been real...'course not, but...it had seemed that way. Had seemed like...like there had been nothing he could do and-...forget this! He threw the sheets off his half-naked body and scrambled from the bed, forgoing even the idea of a shirt or shoes, though it rained in torrents outside. He had to, ...to know he was alright, he had to see Vlad...
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Pounding upon the door was almost as relieving as it was terrifying; cold hard fear settled within his chest, just as icy raindrops -like those that had pelted his lone form as he slogged through the sudden muddy mess of the hill leading up to the Count's Castle- stung the soft, pale skin of his bare back.
It was not, however, Renfield that answered the tall ominous doors he pounded on so frantically...but Vlad's father, the Count and he did not look pleased. "And what...would a breather such as yourself be doing here at such a time?" Dracula demanded in an ostentatious manner,fangs on show and cape swirling menacingly; at any other time, Robin could have appreciated the Count's flair for the dramatic, but now, he couldn't care less in the haze of his uncertain panic.
Lingering dread gripped at his heart, words formed slightly in his mind but crumbled away like dust in a strong wind, "I...there was-...just...!" The sounds jumbled over each other, and he could not help but notice -even in the back fragment of his mind that was screaming for self-preservation- the way the Count was gazing longingly at his exposed neck; he knew he should feel frightened, but it barely even registered under 'Concern' in his whirling mind.
Drawing in a deep breath, that both of them knew was simply for show as the Vampire didn't actually need to breathe, the taller pale man glared at him, scrutinizing his form in complete silence. Suddenly, Robin was aware of his own ragged breathing, and the tiny tremors that were swiftly manifesting into violent shivers, all over his body; when had he gotten so cold?
"Boy, whatever could have possessed you to come here now -of all times- and partially naked? No, wait...something is...different about you, it will come to me shortly." The Count placed a hand on his shoulder, and -in a surprising turn of events- Robin found himself leaning into the warmth emanating from the long-dead Vampiric hand...which meant he was really, dangerously cold.
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"Yes, well," muttered the Count, noting the cool touch of the boy's skin, frantic look to his eyes, and the way he seemed to be leaning into him; mmmm, did the boy's neck look simply delectable now! He shifted slightly uncomfortably under the dark look he was receiving and attempted to regain his dignity. "As you seem to have lost all power of speech in my obviously terrifying presence, breather, you had best come in..." He swept the unresisting human inside and over the threshold with a flick of his cape, slamming the door without effort.
"Yeah, like that's ever been a problem with Vampire-worshiping Branaugh over there, you fawning old goat-biter!" shot the sarcastic voice of Ingrid, as she stormed down the staircase and glared at them both. The Count glared at his most hated offspring, whereas the boy simply remained fixedly staring at the cold stone floor...
"What the Hell is he doing here, anyway and- augh! Branaugh, get a shirt on! Your skin's so pale it's actually glowing!" Ingrid cried out, scrunching her eyes up and raising a hand as if to prove her point that Robin actually was blinding her with his painfully pasty complexion...
For his part, the Count rather fancied it made the young mortal look like a rather delectable pastry...but maybe that was just his opinion...
"What, jealous?" came another voice from further up the staircase, which elicited a rather drastic head snap from the up-until-that-point-motionless boy before him, as Robin turned his gaze up to stare at Vlad. "Son, Heir, favoured child! Come down and see to your Breather friend, he seems to have gone quite mad...I may even allow you to keep him as an amusement if that is truly the case! Ah, mad people...your Great-Great-Great Aunt Ilgorine had a whole Asylum full of them once, ah, what fun and entertainment they were..." His eyes began to glaze over as he remembered all the vile things he and the others of his family had done there...such wonderful family memories...
But still, something nagged him about the boy before him...something was different...
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Descending the stairs with enormous speed, the object of his terror stood unscathed, washing away all his fears just be being there. Taking a step forwards, his friend tried to speak, "Robin? What are you doing here? Oh, you're all wet! Why-...? Oof!" He flung himself at Vlad, wrapping his arms around the other and squeezing for all he was worth, "You're safe..." he mumbled in the young Vampire's ear.
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TBC...
I hope you Enjoyed this Chapter, please Review.
Next Chapter coming as soon as I can type it... "Chapter 2: Have you Ever Seen the Moon, Vlad?"