A/N- Warning: spoilers for season five. This is set after season five episode two, and contains spoilers from the preview of episode three. Once episode three airs this will be non-cannon, but I've had this in my head and wanted to get it out. Enjoy!
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If Vlad's heart hadn't stopped beating on his sixteenth birthday he was certain that it would have been racing right now.
This was the moment he had been waiting for ever since he had found out the truth about his lineage. He was finally face to face with his real mother. His breather mother. But, as was often the case in his cursed life, the events leading up to this much-desired reunion had been a near-disaster.
Perhaps it had been foolish of him to ignore his father's warnings about drawing his mother into the vampiric world, but when the count had come up with the idea of re-opening the school as a vampire themed hotel Vlad had recklessly seized the opportunity to invite Sally to stay. He hadn't really had much of a plan beyond that, nor had he thought through all of the possible ways in which things could go wrong…but, lost in a flurry of excitement and desperation, he had forged ahead.
Tracking her down hadn't been easy. His own search ended unsuccessfully and he had nearly given up until Ingrid's computer savvy admirer had managed locate the email address for a Sally Gules in Whitby. Vlad had sent her a "coupon" for a free weekend at Hotel Dracula, hoping beyond hope that she would take the bait. It had been a long shot—after all, it might not have been the right Sally Gules and, even if it was, she could have easily ignored the invitation.
After weeks without a response, Vlad had nearly given up hope.
But then, one chilly fall day, a knock on the front door changed everything.
She had come.
And the moment he laid eyes on her he knew that she was the Sally Gules. As she stood in the lobby, apologizing profusely for not booking in advance, he knew that he had found his mother. There was a familiarity about her that he couldn't quote place— her warmth, her smile, even her voice—it all stirred long burred memories in the back of his mind. He had only known her for a couple of days as an infant, but she had never fully been forgotten.
His euphoria at this new discovery had ended quickly, however.
The count, not recognizing her now that her Goth days were over, had quickly ushered her to her room, a familiar spark of blood lust in his eyes. Ingrid had muttered something about having first dibs on the breather and Vald had felt himself filling with panic as he realized the implications of what he had done.
He had invited his mother into a den of hungry vampires, and it was quite clear what the rest of his family intended to do with her.
The next several hours had been spent trying to keep her safe. He had tracked her everywhere—using his vampire stealth to stay hidden and coming up with ways to keep his father and sister distracted from their "snack." He could tell that they were impatient, however, and he knew she wouldn't survive the night in this hotel from hell. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to work up the courage to make her leave…or say what he wanted to say.
He so desperately wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to see her to smile. He wanted to feel the warm embrace of the warm, loving mother he had dreamed of.
But he had no idea how to tell her. And most of all, he didn't want her to know that her son was a monster…
In the end, Ingrid forced him into action.
Frustrated and hungry, his sister had pushed him aside and made a run for Sally just as the final rays of sunlight fell beneath the horizon. "Enough of this nonsense," the vampires had declared, "night is falling and I need my breakfast."
The next few moments had passed in a blur. Ingrid had barred her fangs and she pinned Sally up against an old fireplace. Vlad, whose reflexes and speed surpassed his sister's, was next to her in a flash. He managed to push his sister aside, only to hear the sound of his father rushing into the room.
The three vampires had scuffled on the nearby staircase—Ingrid and the Count eager to drain the breather, and Vlad doing everything he could to stop them. For once he was happy to be the "Chosen One." Few others could have held off Count Dracula and his ravenous daughter.
Just as Vlad felt his strength failing, the fourth figure in the room tore their attention from the fight. Surprisingly, Sally hadn't screamed or fled. She did, however, look completely shocked after watching the three brawl at superhuman speed.
"You're vampires, aren't you?" She asked, causing the three to freeze in surprise.
Vlad felt a wave of nausea wash over him.
No no no no no, this was not how it was supposed to happen. He thought despairingly. He had never wanted her to know.
Before anyone else could respond, Vlad had thrown out his hand, knocking the Count and Ingrid off their feet with a blast of telekinetic energy. Without looking back, he'd dashed towards his mother, grabbed her arm, and pulled her down the corridor into an abandoned classroom. He had bolted the door and ushered the stunned woman into the nearest chair.
And that was where they were now.
Finally alone…but in far worse circumstances than could have imagined.
He could hear her ragged breaths from across the room but he didn't have the courage to look up from the dusty stone floor and finally meet her eyes. He didn't want to look at her. Didn't want to see the look of terror and disgust on her face. There was no doubt in his mind that he would hate him now. She knew what he was. His family had tried to kill her. There was no way she would accept him as her son now…
"What is going on?"
Her voice broke through the silence and Vlad's head automatically snapped towards her. Much to his surprise, she didn't look quite as terrified as he had expected and there was a certain motherly kindness in her voice that made him want to stay at her side. The smallest glimmer of hope flickered inside him.
Vlad hesitated, wondering if there was still a way to make everything okay.
He wondered if she had noticed that he wasn't breathing. If she had noticed how cold his hand was when he had grabbed hers.
"This isn't a hotel, is it?"
Reluctantly, Vlad shook his head.
"I'm sorry." He replied, his voice weak and shaky. Vlad felt as if he was a child again and he wanted nothing more than to fall into his mother's embrace. She was exactly the sort of mother he had dreamt of on those cold nights when Magda had ignored his pleas for affection.
He would do anything to make things right.
"I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted…"
Sally raised an eyebrow and Vlad could tell that her heart rate and breathing were returning to a normal rate. She was undoubtedly tense, and her determined expression told him that she expected answers— but she was amazingly well composed considering the circumstances.
"Just wanted what?" She asked, cocking her head to the left as she examined the young man. "Were you the one that sent me the coupon? I thought it was odd, and this entire day has been so bizarre…I mean, I read a lot of vampire lore as a teenager, but I never really thought…" She trailed off, still examining him with her piercing gaze. "I wasn't going to come. But I was passing through on the way to see my sister and something told me that I should stop in. Just for a night. I was drawn to it—and once I arrived, there was something oddly familiar about it all. That man..." She paused again, her blue eyes meeting his. "You. And then that girl attacked…but those fangs couldn't be real, right? Not really real. I used to know some people who were really into the whole 'acting like a vampire' thing. Which is what those people must of been doing. It's the only thing that makes sense. But then, how did they all move so quickly…goodness, I'm babbling, aren't I?"
Against his better judgement, Vlad gave her a small smile. "Yeah, a bit." He replied.
Vlad had never heard anyone talk quite that fast—and he was relieved that she seemed more frazzled than terrified. Part of him wanted to encourage her denial but, although he had only known her for a few brief hours, something told him that she was too intelligent to ignore the truth for very long.
She had seen too much.
"Look, thanks for getting me out of there—I have no idea what sort of weird cult thing is going on here, but I shouldn't probably just get my bags and be on my way."
Before Sally could rise from her chair, however, Vlad let out a panicked "No!"
The woman paused, her expression now more wary than it had been before.
He knew it was now or never.
"I can't let you go back out there," he began, trying to ignore the nerves that were threatening to overwhelm him. "They might attack you again and we…we need to talk."
There was a brief pause.
"Look, I have had quite enough of this," Sally started, an angry edge in her tone as she stood up from her chair. "Now you can either let me out of here this instant, or tell me why you…"
"I'm your son."
His words hung in the air. Sally's breath caught in her throat and neither mother nor son made the slightest sound for several seconds. Vlad looked back down at the dusty ground, scarcely able to believe that he had actually said it. In some ways, it was a huge relief- he had been carrying around this burden for months now, and had wanted to tell her the second she had arrived. But he also knew that things were far from perfect—there was a very good chance that she wouldn't believe him…and even if she did, he doubted she would stick around once she knew everything.
No mortal woman wanted a bloodthirsty vampire for a son.
Unable to stand her silence any longer, Vlad began to explain.
"Eighteen years ago, you met a man at a Goth festival in Whitby." He started, chancing a quick glance in her direction. She was staring at the darkened window, her expression impossible to read. "You…spent some time together. And nine months later…"
He watched as Sally brought her hand to her mouth. Vlad was pretty sure there were tears welling in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on him once more. She was examining him again, but it now seemed as if she was seeing him for the first time.
He wished that she would say something.
Anything.
But she didn't.
"My dad—who you met again today—managed to adopt me." Vlad carried on, his voice thick with emotion. "He didn't tell me anything about you until a few months ago. And as soon as I found out I tried to track you down. And once I did, I send you that email. I didn't think you'd actually come, and I didn't think about what could happen if you did. I didn't want things to go like this…I never…"
"That man." Sally cut him off midsentence, her breathing once again rapid. Vlad could hear her pulse quicken, but he tried his best to ignore it. He despised the instinctual hunger that the sound of her rushing blood sparked in him, even at a time like this.
"That man." She started again. "I thought he looked familiar. His hair was short back then…" She trailed off as she slowly unearthed her distant memories. "I never saw him again after that night. And my parents convinced me to give up the baby. I was only eighteen, and I couldn't have cared for him…" She paused, her moist eyes, meeting his. "For you."
Despite everything that had gone on, Vlad's hopes leapt as he heard her acknowledge him as her son. She must have felt the undeniable connection between them just as much as he had.
A mother could always tell.
"Oh my god, this is all so unimaginable." She let out a deep breath before slowly rising from her seat. "I never thought…but, just look at you. I knew there was something about you. You look quite a bit like my brother did at your age, you know. I almost can't believe I didn't connect the dots sooner."
Before he could stop her, Sally reached out and placed a tender hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her. Vlad flinched, but couldn't bring himself to pull away. He had never felt a mother's caring touch.
For a brief moment, she smiled—simply examining the son that she thought she had lost forever. Revelling in his presence.
But all too soon, another realization hit.
A realization he had been dreading.
"You're so cold." Sally whispered, her eyes widening. "Too cold."
Vlad jumped back, trying to ignore the tears that had started to prickle behind his eyes.
"You can't be…"
Knowing that denial was fruitless, Vlad nodded.
"I am." He choked, trying to ignore the look of trepidation on her face. "You…you were right. In the hallway. You were right."
He couldn't bring himself to say exactly what she was right about. It was too painful to say it out loud. But she understood, and he knew that her brief moment of joy was now over.
She had been reunited with her son, only to find out that he was a soulless monster.
The woman drew another shaky breath and his stomach sank as she took a step back. Vlad almost expected her to disown him on the spot but, to his temporary relief, she didn't.
Not yet.
"But…how?" Sally asked, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. "Vampires…aren't real."
"Unfortunately, they are." The young man replied, looking away from the woman whose acceptance he so badly desired. "The man you met in Whitby—my father—is Count Dracula."
She let out a small gasp. Vlad flinched, but did his best to continue.
"I know that all of the stories say that vampires are created when bitten—but that's only part of it. That can happen too but, for the most part, vampirism is something that is inherited."
"But…" Sally cut in, shaking her head as if trying to clear the many thoughts that were swirling around inside of it. "My son wasn't a vampire." She said, looking at him with confusion. "He was a normal child. I…I held him in my arms. He was warm, he was alive."
Vlad could not help but notice how her language had changed. Only a few minutes had passed, but she was no longer referring to him as her son. He couldn't blame her, really— but knowing that she didn't want to believe that he, the undead creature before her, was her son stung just as much as he had expected it to.
For a second, he considered mind wiping her. Maybe this had all been one big stupid mistake. Maybe they'd both be happier going on as if they had never met.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Not to her.
"All vampires can pass for human until their sixteenth birthday." Vlad stated with a sad sigh. "We're warm, we have heartbeats, we can go out in the sunlight, eat garlic—all of that stuff. But once your birthday comes you can't escape your fate. You turn, and there is nothing you can do about it."
He gave a sad chuckle as his mind drifted back to all of the childish hijinks he and Robin had gotten into back in Stokely. None of his attempts to find a cure for vampirism had worked, but he did remember his days of childish hope with fondness. Before his sixteenth birthday, he had allowed himself to dream.
But that had changed now.
"I tried so hard to find a way to be normal." Vlad continued, allowing his tired body to lean against the door. "I wanted nothing more than to lead a normal life and I did everything I could to stop myself from turning. But there is no cure. Not really. At least now, ever since I learned about you, I know why my desire to be human was always so strong." He paused. "But Vampire DNA is stronger than human, apparently. So here I am now, a freak, a monster. I understand if you…"
"Don't."
Sally cut him off before he could finish and, much to his surprise, she took two large steps towards them.
"Don't say that." She clarified. "I may have just met you, but I know you're not a monster. I don't know why, but can tell. You're not like them."
He shook his head bitterly. As much as he desired her approval, he knew that she didn't fully understand. Accepting her words before she did would have been foolish.
Against his better judgement, Vlad closed his eyes allowed his fangs to descend. He expected a scream, or at least another gasp. But instead, he got nothing.
"This is me." He whispered, his full vampiric nature on display, his razor-sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. "I'm sorry."
He cast his eyes downwards, too afraid to meet her surprised gaze. This is it, he thought somberly. She had seen him exposed for what he was, and she could no longer make excuses.
The sound of more footsteps jolted him out of his thoughts and he looked up just in time to see Sally reach up to place her hand back on his cheek.
Vlad's un-beating heart soared.
"The pain in your voice, the compassion in your eyes—you're more human than you seem to think." She said softly. "You're my son."
He felt the tears pricking up again and, this time, he could not prevent a few from escaping. He hated seeming so weak, but he couldn't help himself. This was a moment that went so far beyond his wildest dreams. The warmth of her touch and the affection in her voice threatened to overwhelm him.
For the first time in his un-life, he knew what it meant to feel a mother's love.
It was unconditional.
Fangs and all.
