*Ch 11 is longer, and a new chapter added if you missed the update*

Possess, Ch 12

The vampire sat quietly, dreaming out the window at the moon, and Abraham used this opportunity to rise quietly and walk across the room to the others. As he'd requested, they'd remained silent, though he could see a thousand burning questions in their eyes. The noise he made, the squeak as the chair pushed back, immediately yanked the vampire out of his reverie, focusing instead on Abraham, and the man sighed in a bit of frustration. "You may continue to sit at the window or by my desk, and you may finish that bottle. I will talk to the others, then return you to the basement." With clear directions as to his expected behavior, the vampire returned to his Moon watching, though not as deeply. Abraham was aware of a, well, "twitchy" red gaze on his back as he returned to the others.

"He wasn't as frightened as I expected." Abraham's soft voice marked the beginning of a very soft, whispered conversation. He considered this to be a good development, but underlined how much of an enigma the vampire was. "As you can see, he appears to be both frightened of and reassured by me."

"He's much farther along than I'd hoped," ventured Seward. "I'm not seeing any sensitivity to stimuli at all, though the noise level and light levels are fairly low. I'm going to venture to say that his sensitivity to touch might be the last remaining physical issue, and that could be both why he wants to stay covered and to avoid any contact with you."

"I don't think so, John. If you'll notice, he's currently pressing against a cold glass window. Earlier, he was deliberately leaning on the chair. He doesn't seem to have problems touching things at all, whether it's a bottle, the coffin, or furniture. Just me." The little party paused for a bit. Voices had remained low, and the vampire had lost itself in contemplation of the sky again. Abraham suspected they could carry on a conversation about almost any subject and the vampire wouldn't notice, though it was possible that it was listening carefully and simply hiding its reactions.

Doubtful. The beast was an open book most of the time, expressions clearly showing what it felt and the rudiments of its though processes. Abraham doubted it could manage such a blank, calm expression purposefully, and expected it to be fairly oblivious to the conversation.

And conversation they had. Mina, most of all, was absolutely horrified and amazed by the change in the creature.

"He's not the same. It's not even...Him...anymore." Her bemused and almost sad eyes turned to Abraham. "I'd wanted to berate him for his attempts to control him, I had a wonderful speech worked up about how far he'd fallen and how he'd now be the one controlled." A helpless gesture at the creature that slumped quietly across the room from them. "And now...it seems so...trite. He's not captured, not controlled. He's not...there."

"A wholly different creature," agreed Johnathan. "The verbose, cultured, inquisitive Count I knew is...NOTHING...like that creature you now have." A pause, while he looked at his wife. "I planned to try and convince you to destroy him, when I got your telegraph that your "guest" was now mobile and speaking. I was convinced that, well, that it was the Count, and that he was playing on your hopes and expectations, that he was dangerous." A gesture much like his wife's. "If I didn't hate him so much I'd feel sorry for him. I agree with Mina, that's not the Count, not at all."

The conversation continued quietly among them, Arthur voicing much the same thoughts as the Harkers. No one, not even Abraham, felt that the creature by the window was the Count, not anymore, though it was somewhat recovered and expected to regain more of his intellect with time.

"And by the time he's recovered to be the Count again, he will be well trained. He has nothing anymore. Not even the coffin or the room is his, and he has no say in his future. Whether he eats, sleeps, feels pain or comfort, that's no longer anything he himself can determine." Abraham's lip quirked up in a bitter smile. "I thought I'd have to beat that into him. As it is, he doesn't even seem to hope for or expect a single bit of concern from me. You saw him with the bottles. He was actually surprised to be fed." A sigh. "We broke him. I've been thinking, all that time he was screaming in the coffin at the start of the trip. We should have found someone that spoke Romanian, because I don't think he was threatening or trying to manipulate us." Grim and guilty eyes met those of each of the party. "I think he was mad with fear and begging us, in actuality. And we left him locked in, despite his desperate fear. Looking at him now, it wasn't an act at all." Abraham moved to the couch, the others following him and taking their own seats on the small cluster of furniture. "I'd intended to study him, learn how vampires think, what actually harms them and what has no effect, what the most useful tools are...and I don't know that he'll be of any actual use at all. He's so damaged. The slightest burn of silver might have him screaming and thrashing so badly that there's no clear means of determining how effective it is compared to a more severe burn, for example. And he's dangerous with his unpredictability. So I'm asking each of you. Should I simply put him down, destroy him, find another subject? Having known him when he was whole and healthy, what do each of you think? Seward?"

"Abraham, by no means should you destroy him." Seward's voice was fervent. "In days, he's recovered more than my two morons from prison have recovered in months or years. I suspect he'll recover far more, and once he can talk, I want to find out from him what helped him the most, what he experienced, how he recovered." His eyes bore into Abraham's. "Keeping him around could help those two men and future patients. He's not human, but he's the closest thing to a human and even if you have no use for him, I want to use him."

Abraham was rather surprised by this, but the others echoed similar sentiments. He'd truly thought they'd want the beast destroyed...but instead, they, to a one, wished it to be kept. Their reasons were as noble as Seward's and as petty as simply wanting it to recover so they could retaliate for the loss of Lucy and Quincy and all the horrors they'd gone through. Pity mixed in with vengeance, and a healthy dose of both scientific curiousity and wonder about what would happen next.

It was already well past dark when the meeting began, and before long, tired yawns were appearing in the group. A glance at the vampire showed that the bottle, now empty, had been placed at its feet and the red eyes still watched the moon, unblinking. Abraham escorted the others to the office door, bidding them a good-night as they went to their bedrooms, then returned to watch his beast a bit longer.

"Dracula." No response, none at all. Abraham frowned, this wouldn't do, and raised his voice, repeating the call with a touch of anger. And this time, he was heard.

x x x x x x x

Oh no! Dracula's Master was angry, and oh, he was glaring! How long had Master been waiting? He should have paid attention, should have watched Master, should have ignored the moon, should have, should have, should have...what now?

And then Master walked to the drawer again, and opened it. No, there would be no blood. Not now. Oh, he had not listened! Not even realizing he was doing it, the vampire had pressed himself to the rug, a whimper catching in his throat. What would Master do? The whip? Something, Master was getting something out...

x x x x x x

The vampire had closed its eyes when Abraham looked back up, flattened on the floor and clearly near panic again. Damn, but it was nervous. All he'd done was raise his voice at it slightly. Fighting off the urge to sigh at it, instead he spoke gently. "You are not in trouble. Pay more attention in the future so I do not have to repeat myself." The vampire simply shivered, still pressed down. "You are not in trouble, vampire. I am not angry." Disbelieving red eyes peered up at him, and Abraham waited patiently. Disbelief turned to shock when the vampire realized that another bottle, a fourth bottle, waited in Abraham's hand. And a fifth bottle waited on the desk.

"Are you still hungry?" He suspected it was, but had no real way of knowing. The rapid head-bobbing was a definite yes, and Abraham moved slowly and quietly to the vampire, bending down with the bottle extended in front of him. Damn, it was walking on eggshells trying to keep the creature from starting its frightened keening, but it worked. The vampire drew back slightly, gaze flicking from Abraham to the bottle. "Go ahead and take it and eat it." The vampire accepted the bottle, and Abraham sat down, pulling out his pen and journal to record the evening's events.

It didn't take long, perhaps twenty minutes, and the vampire had finished the bottle and crept over to curl up beside his chair. Odd, that. So frightened of him, yet so dependent on him. Yet again, the vampire reminded him of an abused spaniel. Such an odd comparison, when one realized that the vampire had been more like a rabid wolf only weeks before. It remained silent, and Abraham finished his recording of the vampire's behavior and quirks, the reasons it was being kept, and the opinions of the others. If things went terribly badly, and the vampire did kill him, he needed as complete a record left behind as possible. And if things went well, and the vampire remained under the control of people, then a complete record of the beginnings would be appreciated by those future owners.

And so he dutifully recorded, in his precise hand and language, what had happened. Finishing the last page, he allowed it to dry as he gazed thoughtfully at his pet. The vampire appeared to be half-dozing, not even seeing the last bottle as Abraham tucked it into his jacket.

"Dracula." Red eyes, that had half-lidded as the creature relaxed, flew back open. The empty bottle sat by the creature, and Abraham gestured at it. "Hand me the bottle." Without hesitation, the cool white hand wrapped about it, then lifted it to Abraham. Placing it with the other empties, Abraham rose. Red eyes widened, then relaxed as the leash appeared. The vampire knew what that meant, was becoming more comfortable with the routine. The leash meant he was going somewhere. The other humans were gone. It was late. Abraham had said it was going back downstairs...so now it clearly expected that to happen. So there was no flinch, no hesitation, and the same cooperative head-tilt so that the leash could be easily attached.

It followed behind him easily. Abraham had expected, at first, to have to train it to heel, abusing and degrading it to accept its new position, forcing it into slavish obedience, to fight with its aggression and pride. But each time, as now, it simply...accepted...its place behind him and at the end of a dog leash. There was nervousness building as they passed his bedroom, but not much, not much at all, and the vampire remained calm as they entered the basement. There was no twitch, no nervousness as Abraham unclipped the leash, just the same wary, observant eyes as always.

"I'll come down during the day and place you in the coffin." Red eyes flew open and a terrified whimper came out, the vampire backing away in fear and protest. "I will not place the lid on it. Before you wake at night, I will remove you from the coffin." The vampire's head wagged back and forth, denial more than refusal, fear not disobedience. Abraham became firm. "You are a vampire. Vampires sleep in coffins. You will not be aware that you are in it, you will simply wake more rested." The vampire was still clearly terrified by the idea and Abraham wondered if he would have done better to simply not mention it at all.

Well, too late to change that now. "You behaved acceptable tonight. Are you still hungry?" The change in subject confused the vampire and it took a few minutes for its mental gears to change and for it to respond...with a slight nod. "How hungry? How much more do you need to eat?" Abraham wanted it fully fed, after all, and still didn't know just how much it would normally eat. Waiting, and waiting...and then an answer.

"Just a little, Master. A little hungry. Not much. Maybe half a bottle." The vampire swayed, stressed by the requirement to speak, to answer a more complex question, worried about why Abraham had asked the question and if its answer was acceptable.

Red eyes watched his hands, worried, as Abraham reached into his jacket...then pulled out a full red bottle. The vampire froze, stilled in his surprised and distraction, staring at the bottle that Abraham extended to him. "Take this, vampire. You may drink as much of it as you want. Place the bottle by the door before you go to sleep." A candle was lit off the lantern's flame and set on the floor to light the room somewhat, and then Abraham left the vampire behind, as it glanced from him to the bottle and back to him.

Pausing in the hallway, he looked back through the window slots to see the vampire move quietly to his coffin. Using it as a backrest, it began to sip from the bottle. The red eyes were again half-closed in pleasure.

x x x x x x x

Quiet, dark, alone...and full now. And more blood. And Master was going to sleep...

He had the rest of the night to himself. Master would put him in the coffin, and that was frightening, but...he trusted Master. He had to trust Master. It was too scary to not trust Master. And Master had said he would not wake in the coffin.

Frightening, to have Master in the room, touching him, while he slept. Frightening to be in the coffin. But he was comfortable. Clean. Fed. All those people, no one had hurt him. Master had not been angry with him.

Contemplatively, the vampire sipped at his meal. A fifth bottle. So much food. So much. Cold, but wonderful. Wonderful. No longer hungry.

And tired. So tired. All those people, watching him. Master, not angry, no, but he hadn't known that.

Muscles relaxed, his head dropped, and the vampire dozed quietly. The harpstring-tight muscles relaxed as fear and tension drained from the beast. Near morning, he lifted his head, blinking awake, and moved only to place the empty bottle by the door.

Sleep. Sleep...by coffin. Not in coffin. Never in coffin. Master would put him in coffin...but too tired, too full, too sleepy...to be frightened. Curled up on lid. Comfortable, smelled like home, home pressed against his back. Stomach full. Mind full. Sleep now. Sleep.

x x x x x x x

Abraham lifted the sleeping vampire into the coffin, pausing to stare at it. The damned creature was almost smiling.

How odd.