A/N: Originally, I wasn't sure if I'd write this piece, but here you have it: Herbert tells his father the truth.
"Vater", Herbert began, staring at the empty surface of the mirror like he had done many times in his youth, "I have done a terrible thing."
It was strange, to feel like he was again 16 years old and about to tell his father about some misdeed. That wasn't something he had done in a very long time. Oh, Vati still liked to lecture him every now and then, as if only couple of years had passed instead of hundreds (Vati would no doubt always regard him as a teenager, even if a thousand years went by). But Herbert had long ago stopped feeling he had to tell his father about every little mistake.
However, now he did feel he had to tell the awful truth, and out of habit he was practicing in the front of mirror, although he couldn't see his reflection (a fact that never quite stopped annoying him).
"Vater, I have done something really bad", he began again, imagining his father standing opposite him. He could even imagine the faint lift of Vati's eyebrows, and the questioning look in the blue eyes. Most people weren't that apt in reading his face, but Herbert was the master, and he'd see the older vampire bracing himself for whatever misfortune it was this time that his son had caused.
Vati would know it really was a horrible thing, because nothing else would have Herbert confessing it like this. The viscount already hated himself for what he was about to do, for he knew what pain it would bring to his poor old father... and hurting Vati was the last thing he wanted to do. But he felt he had no choice. He couldn't keep this horrible knowledge just inside himself any longer, or it would drive him mad. And anyway, sooner or later his father would have to know.
Herbert had to tell him the truth.
Rubbing his temples, the viscount sighed and felt he'd be having a very intense headache if that had been possible. Taking a deep breath, he stared ahead, as if his father was there in the front of him.
"Vati, I turned Alfred", he said, his voice exactly as apologetic and regretful as he hoped it would be when the actual confrontation would take place. "I turned him for you and I failed. Alfred – our Alfred – became a complete monster."
And goodness, it hurt. Just saying out loud that sad and ugly truth made him feel such intense resentment towards himself that he wouldn't have thought it possible. It also resurrected the horror and disbelief he had felt when he had watched his childe wake up. He knew monsters existed – he lived among them and mostly paid no heed – but in a way, Alfred had been most horrific of them all. As innocent, kind and gentle he had been in life, he was cruel and twisted in death. What had made him so terrible had been how all that darkness had been shrouded by Alfred's resemblance, and how innocence had given its face to wickedness.
"I turned Alfred into a vampire and I destroyed all that you loved in him", Herbert whispered, his voice trembling now. He didn't even know how Vati would react. Would he be angry? Or what if he were sad?
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to save you. I thought I could do it – that I'd be able to bring him along. I didn't mean to destruct him", he mumbled, with less grace than in a very long time. He hadn't stammered like this since he had been a boy.
With a sigh, Herbert slumped and brushed a hand across his forehead. Vater would be so heartbroken once he heard... and there would be no end to that brooding then. Now that he thought of it, he wasn't even sure Vati could forgive something like that. Alfred had been special, after all.
Perhaps he didn't have to tell the truth after all... perhaps it was for the better if he just kept the secret to himself like before. Vati needn't suffer, and what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Yes, Herbert would remain silent, no matter how heavy the knowledge of his foul deed became.
He turned around with renewed resolve, and then he froze.
His father stood at the door, silent and unmoving. His face was blank but his eyes were speaking in volumes, and Herbert knew he had heard every word. The younger vampire doubted he had ever seen such powerful anguish in his father's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Vati. I really am. I just wanted to make you happy", Herbert said quickly, approaching the older vampire. "I didn't want him to go and leave us. I know I did wrong. Please don't be angry with me."
Vater didn't say anything. He just stood there, as if he had suddenly lost all ability to speak and move. In a way, his muteness hurt even more than any angry and hateful words ever could have.
"Vati? Say something, please. At least tell me if you're angry!" the younger vampire exclaimed desperately. "I tried to pull him through, I really did! I didn't think it'd be so bad!"
His father still didn't speak. Instead, his eyes flashed, and suddenly his palm slapped hard across Herbert's cheek. Crying out, the viscount stumbled and fell down. He covered his cheek with his own hand and looked up at his father in shock.
"Vater, please!" he tried.
"Didn't I tell you, Herbert? Didn't I make it clear why I wanted him to stay human?" Vati growled. His eyes were blazing now, and for the first time in many, many years, Herbert was actually kind of scared of his father. "For once, I did something good! For once I thought I had made the right choice! I let him go like I should have done in the first place, and you had to destroy him! You had to destroy Alfred!"
"Vati-" Herbert tried, but his father shot a murderous glare at him and he fell silent again.
"He was all that was still good about me", Vati snapped, his voice venomous. "And you couldn't let him go."
"I'm so sorry", the viscount mumbled brokenly, lowering his gaze to hide his shame and self-disgust. When he looked up again, he was amazed to see that his father was silently crying. Drops of blood, as a vampire could not cry normal tears, were running down that pale face, and Herbert knew for a fact that Vati hadn't cried ever since Marius had died.
Vampires didn't usually cry. Most of them were too far gone to even be able to do that, or capable of required emotions. But when they did, it didn't look nice.
"That is not good enough", he said, and his voice was hard and unforgiving when he said that. A painful sob escaped Herbert's mouth now and he was convinced this was something his father would never forgive him.
And then, without further word, Vati turned around and left. Herbert didn't see him in the crypt that dawn. He was away for five nights and the viscount never asked what he had done and where he had been: the hard expression on his father's face was enough.