Different Effects of the Past
Chapter 10: Old Wounds and New
The living room was dark with the thick curtains drawn but the roaring fire, which seemed to burn every night without fail whether the room was used or not, provided more than enough light as well as the lamps scattered about the room, illuminating the rich fabrics and elaborate furniture.
Valya, her father and Rosalyn waited silently and patiently as Vlad closed the door to the room and walked, without thinking to the drinks cabinet where he poured himself a rather generous amount of whiskey. He stood drinking, leaning against the cabinet, not knowing what to say to the people sitting behind him. The thought that his cousin, the only person his age that he'd ever really been close to, had married, given birth and divorced all without his knowledge both surprised and angered him. It surprised him because he'd thought he knew everything and it angered him because she hadn't thought to even invite him to the wedding, but then be never had been a fan of weddings ever since his brief appearance at Jack and Maddie's own wedding. And she had called him after Viktoria's birth, he just hasn't listened to a word she said.
And indeed why should be have listened; he'd been exceptionally busy nine years ago, far too busy to play 'happy families.' Even now he wasn't sure why he was going along with things, namely with Daniel, but he had no idea what would have prompted Valya to contact him again. Why hadn't he simply told her not to bother when she'd called? Why had he agreed to let her stay in his castle? Vlad had no idea, none whatsoever.
"Are you going to talk or just stand there?" Valya asked him with a sigh.
"What am I supposed to say?" he shrugged, slowly turning around, the glass tumbler in his hand.
"How about 'I am sorry for not caring enough to write'?" Valya suggested.
"I didn't have the time," he replied.
"And yet you seem to have the time for those two american children," Valya shot back.
"They are my godchildren," Vlad raised an eyebrow.
"And Viktoria is your family by blood; we are your family. Does that mean nothing?" she emphasised and he turned to look away.
"I didn't even know she existed," Vlad told her.
"Don't try and make this my fault. Maybe if you'd cared at all you would have," Valya replied coldly. "I tried to talk to you, I tried more times than I can remember but you didn't let me. You never called once. Not once. You didn't care."
"Valya," Rosalyn warned carefully.
"No, she's right," Vlad cut her off, "I didn't care."
"You don't sound like you care now either," Alexei pointed out, "Do you?"
"...I don't know," he admitted.
"You are selfish and cold, just like your father," Valya sneered and Vlad's lip twitched in disgust. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this, Aunty..."
"What?" Vlad asked, his eyes trailing back to narrow at his cousin, "What did you just say to me?"
"I say you are just like uncle Vladislav," she said with confidence and Rosalyn sighed with a sad look beside her.
"How dare you," he breathed quietly, "How dare you compare me to him."
"Well, you are like him, you even look as I remember him," she defended.
"Valya, I don't think..." her father frowned.
"Get out," Vlad snarled, his anger bubbling out of control at the mere thought of his father. It was bad enough that Clockwork's scheming had brought all of his childhood memories to the fore, he didn't need Valya adding to his nightmares as well. And the thought of comparing himself to his father was enough to make him sick, sick and extremely angry.
"What?" Valya turned quickly from her father to her cousin who now looked furious in the firelight.
"I said, get out! Get out of my house!" he yelled suddenly, his voice echoing in the room. His grip on the half empty glass tightened and it was crushed in his hand with ease, the shattered pieces falling to the floor along with small droplets of blood but he didn't seem to care or even notice. It would heal very quickly after all.
"Vlad, your hand," his mother pointed out, concerned, but she went unnoticed.
"You see, now you sound even like him...so angry," Valya stood up, "Is like listening to him shout at you again."
"That's enough!"
"No, it is not, maybe you should think about this!" she yelled back. "How do you think I felt when you refuse to even speak to me for ten years?! Ten years, Vlad! We were so close. You were my best friend! I wanted you to be there for my child, I needed you when I was divorced and you weren't there...and I hate you for that!"
"What I went through was far more serious than a simple divorce," Vlad scoffed. "I had nothing..."
"You left willingly!"
"I had no choice!" he yelled. "I couldn't live under the same roof as that...that man anymore. Scraping by on little more than minimum wage was the more preferable option by far, believe me."
"Vlad..." Valya sighed.
"Oh, for crying out loud, not you too, don't give me that look, Valya," Vlad rolled his eyes, "Pity is the last thing I need."
"I cannot help it," she replied stubbornly.
"Then go back to being angry."
"I do not wish to be angry at you," Valya said, walking over to him and reaching out for his hand that he'd cut on the glass. "Let me see," she said.
"It's nothing," he replied quickly, hiding his already healed hand behind his back, "It didn't cut the skin."
"But I saw..."
"I said, it's fine," he snapped.
"And I say it is not," she said with just as much force and stubbornness. She moved quickly and trapped his wrist, pulling it forwards and turning his hand over to look down at his palm. There was still wet blood on his pale skin but no cut, nothing whatsoever. He knew that, even in the dim light, she would quickly see that after the blood was cleaned away.
"Here, Valya, let me," Rosalyn stood quickly, pulling a clean handkerchief from her bag and taking Valya's place before she had a chance to observe the lack of wounds.
Vlad's eyes snapped up at his mother's sudden reaction and she gave him a look of silent understanding. Though the ever perceptive Rosalyn Masters didn't know the nature of Vlad's powers, she knew that he was...different, to say the least. Vlad wasn't exactly sure just how much she knew and this always disturbed him greatly. As she wiped the blood from his hand she clearly saw that there was no wound but she said nothing as he wrapped the cloth around his palm as though there was a cut.
"I...I am sorry, Vlad...for shouting at you...and for..." Valya began
"It doesn't matter," he relied, tearing his searching eyes from his mother's calm gaze, "I've heard it all before," he added.
"I really am..." Valya tried again.
"It's late," Vlad cut her off, "If you still wish to stay then I suggest that you get some rest," he said.
"But I..."
"I insist," he emphasised.
"Maybe it's for the best," Rosalyn said calmly, "You might have your work cut out in getting Viktoria to sleep when there's an entire castle to explore."
"...Fine," Valya sighed, "Fine," she shook her head and walked slowly towards the door, "But we will talk in the morning," she warned him before leaving to find her daughter. She was followed soon after by her father prior to a glance from Rosalyn and the wife of Vladislav Masters was left alone with her only son in the silence.
Vlad peered across at her surreptitiously and, after making sure that they were alone, he began to unwrap the useless, makeshift bandage on his hand. "Well...aren't you curious?" he asked her after revealing to her his unmarred palm.
"Naturally," she replied simply.
"Why did you..." Vlad began to ask.
"It seemed important to you," Rosalyn answered.
"Are you sure that you don't know..."
"Of course I don't. How am I supposed to know what you refuse to tell me?"
"Then how..."
"I know you; you're my son, I know you, as person, better than anyone," she said shrewdly and he hummed. "And you don't like that fact, do you?" she couldn't help but ask.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Vlad frowned.
"Nothing, of course...nothing at all," his mother smiled kindly.
"So, what about...father...won't he be joining this little family reunion of yours? Valya did say that this was your doing, didn't she?"
"You really don't need me to tell you that he isn't interested at all, do you? And yes, I suggested that Valya come and visit you. You see...her divorce took its toll and I'd rather she not be alone."
"She isn't alone. She has her father...her mother, you and the girl," Vlad pointed out.
"Viktoria," Rosalyn corrected. "And Valya's mother is still in Russia."
"How is she?" he felt compelled to ask.
"She's fine, she's too stubborn to leave, but Valya won't go back, at least not yet. Too many memories from her marriage, she says. She never should have married him, they were very ill-matched."
"Indeed?"
"Oh yes," she nodded heavily, sitting back down gently, "But we both know that that doesn't often stop people, does it?" she asked rhetorically.
"He wasn't...he didn't..." Vlad trailed off, his mother understanding his meaning perfectly well from his reluctant tone of voice.
"No," she answered quickly, "At least not that I could tell. No, it wasn't that, I just don't think they ever felt anything for each other."
"And where is he now? I'm not going to have an angry husband knocking at my door, am I?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.
"An ex-husband, and no, Mikhail isn't the type, believe me," Rosalyn waved a dismissive hand, "No, he's in Russia, and I don't think he'll ever leave. You wouldn't have liked him I don't think," she remarked.
"Hmmm," he breathed.
"How long have you been on amicable term with your godson then? When you told me last, you two weren't so friendly," Rosalyn said.
"Who says we are now?"
"Well he's here, and something tells me he that wouldn't be if he didn't choose to be," she replied perceptively.
"No, he wouldn't," Vlad said, remembering all the times he'd offered the boy everything he had to give and it hadn't meant anything to Daniel. "He's trying to be...understanding," he added, "He doesn't wish to fight anymore."
"And by 'fight' you mean...what exactly?" she raised an eyebrow, not sure that she wanted to know the answer, but certain that Vlad wouldn't give her one anyway.
"You remember what happened when I attempted the same with father?" Vlad's eyes narrowed as, quite against his will, he recalled the times he'd attempted to 'call a truce' with his father. Tragically to no avail each time, after a while he'd given up trying.
"How could I forget?" she whispered.
"...How can he be so much like me...and be the complete opposite?" he hissed, his fist tightening around the cloth that he still held uselessly in his hand.
"I don't know," his mother replied, "But you're not going to treat him in the same way that you were...are you?"
"I already have," he admitted ambiguously and she sighed heavily in disappointment, "More than once."
"Then I'm surprised he's here at all," Rosalyn told him frankly.
"As am I," Vlad said quietly.
"...The pocket watch," she asked after a moment, "Did you give to him?"
"I did," he answered curtly.
"And?"
"And he tried most emphatically in entreating me to keep it. The thought of my giving him anything caught him off guard."
"Wasn't that the point?"
"No."
"Then what was? You already said that you've had little to do with him for years, what changed to make you want to give him something so meaningful? Is it the same reason as to why he's here now?"
"...Yes," he answered reluctantly.
"But you're not going to tell me what that is, are you?"
"Not likely," Vlad told her with a small smile.
"I didn't think so."
At the same time, Danny sat in his room in one of the warm, cosy arm chairs watching the television and preceding to flick open his phone after it rang.
"Hey, Mom," Danny smiled.
"Danny, it's late, why are you still up?" Maddie asked quickly.
"If you thought I was asleep why call?" he replied quietly, "So, how's the err...the convention?"
"It's wonderful, today we sat through a seminar about how to banish ghosts back to their own dimension and we..."
"Okay, I get it, you're having fun," Danny sighed.
"How are you and your sister? Are you behaving?"
"Yes, Mom," he answered automatically.
"How's Vlad?"
"He's...fine," Danny shrugged, "Erm...mom...did...when you were in college, did Vlad ever talk about his parents?"
"What?" she exclaimed in surprise, "Why?"
"Well...it's just...Jazz thinks she's got one of her psychology theories and..."
"No, he didn't," Maddie answered, still surprised that her son would be asking about such a thing, "Not that I can remember."
"Never?"
"...No, never," she replied after a moments' thought.
"Oh," he replied in disappointment.
"Has he mentioned them to you? Is that why you're asking?"
"No, no, he hasn't said anything, I was just curious...you know how Jazz gets when she's got an idea."
"Tell her it's probably best not to ask him about it; every time your father and I used to ask Vlad it usually ended with him getting angry," Maddie said.
"Gotcha," he nodded seriously, remembering just what tended to happen when Vlad got angry. "But erm...you're not gonna believe this...Vlad's mom's here..."
"His mother?"
"And his uncle...and his cousin and her kid," Danny added and heard his own mother breathe a surprised scoff, "What?" he asked.
"It's just...surprising, that's all. I got the feeling that it was never a...close family from how angry he always got when we mentioned it."
"Yeah...well...it's kinda weird, y'know...I mean, Vikky, err...Viktoria's okay, I guess..."
"Vikky?"
"Vlad's niece...I mean his...cousin once removed, she's nine. She's...nice, I guess. I only just met her," Danny explained.
"Where is she now?" Maddie asked.
"Gone to bed," he yawned.
"Which is where you would be going, Danny," his mother scolded.
"Yeah, I will, later," Danny shrugged, "I'm gonna make the most of having a 30 inch plasma TV while I can," he added.
"Alright," Maddie rolled her eyes, unbeknownst to Danny, "Good night, sweetie."
"Night," Danny replied, snapping his phone shut and tossing it onto the table.
Despite Danny's best efforts he fell asleep about an hour later in the armchair with the sounds of the television failing to wake him. But something else did.
"Daniel?" Vlad floated up through the floor and looked around, the darkness not making a difference to his search. In an instant he saw the boy sleeping, mouth open, curled up with an embroidered blanket of red and gold wrapped loosely around him. He walked over to the sleeping boy and shook his shoulder gently, "Daniel, wake up," he said again.
"...Go 'way..." Danny muttered, reaching for the blanket and pulling it up over his head instinctively.
"No, Daniel, I mean it, get up, now," Vlad sighed. He lightly charged his index finger with a small electrical charge and brought it down on the boys unmoving, blanket covered shoulder.
"Argh!" Danny cried, jumping out of his chair into a battle ready stance, his ghost powers at his fingertips. In his haste to move, Danny had tangled himself up in the blanket and preceded to grumble to himself as he tried to fight his way out of it so that he could see. "What the...son of a...get this thing off'a me..."
"Honestly, that was ridiculous, would it be too much to ask for a little dignity, just once?" Vlad said quite calmly.
"Wh...Vlad?" Danny furrowed his brow after a second. "What are you..." he grumbled as he tossed of the blanket, scowling at it in frustration when it landed on the floor. "What the hell was that?!"
"That, dear boy, was you making a fool of yourself...again."
"That was your fault!" Danny growled.
"Come, back to the lab, you haven't nearly mastered any adequate control of your powers yet," Vlad said to a bewildered Danny.
"Wh...now?"
"Of course, now. When else am I supposed to teach you? Over dinner with my mother?" the man scoffed.
"But it...it's the middle of the night!"
"No, it's one in the morning," Vlad replied pedantically.
"That's worse!"
"That depends on your point of view."
"Can't it wait?"
"No, unless you want to risk freezing the castle," Vlad said smugly as Danny sighed and angrily ran a hand through his already messy hair. The older hybrid then left as he had came, via the floor, and Danny followed, reluctantly.