When Alfred opened his eyes again he had expected to the see the grainy and cracked ceiling of Arthur's painfully small cottage that had become so familiar, but when he gazed up at the ceiling what he saw was familiar, but not in the recent sense. This grainy ceiling was the one above his room in his childhood home across the sea. When he looked around the walls were the same shade of sky blue and were still covered in pictures and pieces of writing while the floor was covered in abandoned clothes and interesting treasures Alfred had collected over the years. Everything was exactly the same down to the geode that sat freshly cracked open on his night stand.

It was night time and it looked as if the sun was still a few hours away from rising. Alfred had been asleep for only an hour since his mother had demanded he stop rough housing with the neighbor's dog and get his little butt into bed. This was back when he had still lived on a normal nocturnal schedule. Usually Alfred felt safe in protected within the walls of his little haven, but tonight every single shadow held a menacing aura within their dark depths. The house creaked and moaned against the strong gusts that shook the trees just outside his window. Alfred gripped his bed sheets tighter, pulling them up to cover his mouth and nose so that only his darting eyes weren't under its expanses. Something about this night was not right.

There was a creak of the floor boards and the sound of a light scuffle coming from the other room. Undoubtedly his mother was still awake busy rearranging something, cooking, or cleaning. It wasn't unusual for her to be up into the early hours of the morning when most vampires would be sleeping for she said she was much too busy to sleep at a normal schedule. Alfred turned onto his side, still wrapped up in his sheets and looking at the geode on his nightstand; is glimmer crystal surface shinned softly in the dull moonlight streaming through his window.
Suddenly there the telltale creak of the front door opening followed by the heavy sound of boots on the old wooden floor. Alfred curled around himself; bringing his knees to his chest and curling his cold toes close to his feet. He could hear his mother's soft yet shrill tone coming muffled through his door along with the lower sound of what must have been the voice of a man. Alfred's heart clenched in his chest; fear creeping into his body. Who was that? It could have been one of the many guests Alfred and his mother had enter their home, it could've been his mysteriously absent father, heck it could've been Father Christmas and he wouldn't have known.

Worried for his dear mother's safety Alfred got up from bed taking the sheets with him. He wrapped it around his shoulders and closed it tightly over his chest. Dressed like a babe on his christening, Alfred moved towards the door to wrap his short fingers around the knob and turn it slowly as if one false move would cause the world to fall out from under him. He opened the door slowly so the hinges would groan in protest and he tiptoed down the hallway where the voice steadily grew louder.

"-lease, this has nothing to do with him. He's a good child; he's nothing like his father." That was his mother's voice sounding so desperate and pleading. Alfred stopped walking and merely listened; shrugging his sheet tighter of his small shoulders. His father? He'd never known his father. His mother never mentioned anything about him even when he asked.

"As sure as I am of that, we cannot be too careful." That voice. Alfred was unsure of whom it belonged to, but either way it sent an all too unnatural chill running up and down his spine. It was sickeningly sweet like molasses, but as cold as the ice that formed on windows during a winter morning. "It is in the human society's best interest if we just eliminate the problem before it becomes something out of hand."

"But there's nothing wrong with him! He's a good boy! He barely ever feeds for anything, but survival and if he does feed it's only on animals never humans!" His mother hissed softly. Him. She was talking about him. What had he done that he needed to be defended?
Alfred was scared, very scared, but he was hero and he was going to protect his dear mother. He stepped forward into the hallway enough so that he was just barely visible to his mother and the others, "Mom…?" He called softly, just enough to get her attention.

Her head whipped around, he could tell her eyes were blood shot despite the fact he was far away and without his new glasses. Her hair looked disheveled and her expression was frantic. "Alfred… go back to be sweetie, mama is busy."

Alfred glanced over at the man standing in the doorway of their house. He was tall and strongly built like a mountain with broad shoulders and thick limbs. He was dressed in all black save for the small white band under his collar and the silver cross around his neck giving away that this man was a priest. Alfred gazed up at the man's face. His hair was of the palest shade of blonde. His eyes were violet, but… they had nothing in them. No light, no gleam, no nothing. All that was there was the cloudiness of a storm raging within them. Although his eyes seemed hollow and menacing there was a small curled up on his pale lips, but Alfred knew that it was no ordinary smile.

The man glanced over at Alfred and smiled, his violet eyes scrunching slightly under the lift of his cheeks. "What a cute boy you have. Mrs. Jones. It's a shame about what's going to happen to him though." Alfred heart began to race. What was going to happen to him?
His mother seemed to lose it, "No! I won't let you hurt him! There's nothing dangerous about him!" She screamed angrily, her blue eyes wild.

"We can't take that chance." The man replied.

"No! I won't let you touch him! You'll have to kill me first!" She shouted with a fierce determination as she stuck herself between the man and Alfred.

"That can be arranged." His voice echoed ominously, the sickening smile grew wider still and the whole world exploded into a fierce color of scarlet. Everything from there was drenched in red. So much red. The world had no color save for that sickening crimson that would not come clean no matter how many times he tried to blink it away. What was he to do? He was young, so innocent, so inexperienced and there was nothing he could do to help anyone not even himself. And so he lay there screaming while he screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out that red, red world.

"It will break you…. One step out of line and it's all over…." Alfred knew that voice, that now familiar, accented voice. His eyes flew open and suddenly everything from his childhood home had melted away and only white was left. It was endless, going as far as Alfred's eyes could see. "… You don't take it seriously… I don't even know why I'm bothering… you'll only end up like my brother anyway…"

Alfred's head whipped around, trying to find sight of something, anything that would stop his mind from exploding from the endless world of white. "Arthur! Arthur where are you!" He had to be here. If Alfred could hear him he had to be able to see him too…. He found him, but with the state the wizard was in he would have rather been forced to stare at the depths of the blinding white world. He there, no crimson beneath him, but his body was mangled. His eyes were lifeless, nothing but orbs of a single pale green that held none of their glorious former shimmer. His hair was disheveled, his clothes torn, bruises and lacerations scared his body yet there was no blood. The only thing Alfred could see where two rough teeth marks on his slender, elegant neck…. The world turned red again and Alfred continued to scream as he fell away while everything he knew was ripped from him.

Alfred woke up screaming this time to reality and the familiar grainy and cracked ceiling of Arthur's little cottage in the middle of the woods. He jolted upright in bed, his chest heaving for breath, and the sheets around him completely drenched in sweat. His head swiveled around violently, his blue eyes wild and wide as he half expected to find Father Braginski standing at his doorway with that sickening and sweet smile and those lightless eyes.

The only thing that met Alfred's eyes was the darkness of the early morning hours. The house was silent save for the sound of a gentle breeze ruffling the many trees and the nearby river babbling away. Alfred tried to steady his erratic, shallow breaths as he realized that he was completely safe and alone. Or so he thought. There was a rather loud knock at his door, "Alfred…? Alfred, are you alright?" It was Arthur's voice; his tone somewhat panicked. "I heard screaming…" The door opened and Arthur poked his head inside to inspect what was going on. Upon seeing Alfred up in bed, trembling and looking at him with wide, scared eyes he let himself in, "Dear lord, what on earth happened to you?"
Alfred ran a hand through his dark blonde hair, swiping his plastered bangs from where they were sticking to his forehead. "S-sorry I… I-I just…" he was so shaken by the dream that he couldn't even talk. His hands trembled and his shoulder quaked and no matter how hard he tried he just could shake off the feeling the dream had left him with. So much remorse, so much regret, so much fear and dread.

Arthur's thick brows furrowed and with hesitance in his steps he moves further into the room. His hair was disheveled with sleep and his was still in his nightwear of cotton pants and a matching button down shirt. "It's alright, Alfred just…" He bit his lower lip softly, unsure of how to calm down a frightened vampire especially when he wasn't one hundred percent sure as to what the cause of Alfred's frazzled state was. He went with the obvious, "Come now… it was only a dream…"

It didn't seem to calm Alfred down. He was still as shaken as before at the realness of the dream. In the first part everything had been exactly the same as the night his mother had been killed down to every last detail like the geode on the nightstand. And though the scene with Arthur was clearly not reality since he stood still alive and pumping with fresh blood, the cold paleness of death he saw in the wizard's eyes felt horribly real. "I-I'm sorry, I-I… oh man it was just… so… r-real…" The wizard once again worried his lower lip; still unsure as to what course of action he should take. "Yes well… sometimes dreams are just like that. But there's no need to fret, Alfred, it wasn't real." Alfred remained unconvinced and looked so horribly pathetic sitting there as curled in on himself and his broad shoulders trembling with the lingering presence of his nightmare. He felt a light blush bubble up to the surface of his cheeks. It didn't seem like the young vampire was falling back asleep anytime soon at least not alone in this dark room. "Alfred… if uh… if you'd like I uh… I'll sit with you u-until you fall asleep that is." Arthur offered; arms crossed over his slender chest as he tried to will away that redness showing on his face.

Alfred looked up at the wizard with glistening blue eyes; resembling a kicked puppy more so than a full grown man. "R-Really…? You'd do that…?" Arthur nodded his head. He pulled up the chair from the corner of the room, setting it near the headboard of Alfred's bed. The younger man settled down again, burying the side of his face into the comfort of the pillow. He curled himself up in the sheets finding the night air too cold for his sweat covered skin. With a small grunt to his aching joints Arthur sat down in the chair and glanced sideways at Alfred as he settled.

"…I don't suppose you'd like to talk about it, would you?" Arthur asked as he crossed one of his legs over the other.

The younger blonde gave his shoulders a small shrug. "I dunno… it was just…" He turned his blue eyed gaze away from Arthur's, worrying his lower lip slightly. "It just wasn't pleasant…" Ever since Alfred had overheard a few men talking about Father Braginski making his rounds about the country the young vampire had felt anxious and on edge. What if he made his rounds here? Sure Arthur's cottage was in the middle of the woods where he most likely would not visit, but Alfred was paranoid.
Arthur pressed his lips together softly, his thick brows furrowing slightly, "Well with the way you screamed I didn't think that it was…" It had darn right scared the older man half to death.

"Sorry 'bout that…" Alfred said guiltily as he played at a wrinkle in the sheets.

"It's no trouble…" Arthur reassured knowing that he had his fair share of nights when he woke screaming at the memories he couldn't erase.

The room was silent again. The only sounds were those of the wind outside and the gentle deep breaths of both occupants of the room. Arthur had to resist the urge to shift and squirm at the un-comfortableness of the quiet. Alfred continued to play with the wrinkle in the sheet, unsure of what he was to say. He gave it some moments of thought, "… I… I dreamt about the night my mom died…" Arthur perked a little upon hearing Alfred speak. The wizard's mouth formed a small 'o'. "Yeah…." He Alfred said softly. "And uh… I dreamt that I…" He wasn't sure if he should tell Arthur about the second part of his dream considering it did involve him. "I dreamt about… you…" He answered hesitantly.

Arthur's cheeks pooled with the warmth of a blush. "O-oh, did you now?" He replied nervously, heart speeding up precariously in his chest.
"Yeah, but… it wasn't good…." Arthur's mouth formed that little 'o' again and he uncrossed and recrossed his legs with nervousness. The room was once again consumed with uncomfortable silence. Arthur twiddled his fingers and bit his lower lip. How would you reply to that? 'Oh isn't that lovely? I died in your dream.'? That didn't seem like a reasonable answer at all.

The silence was never broken again. With the comforting presence of Arthur in the chair near his bed it wasn't long before Alfred's breathing turned deep and even and the young vampire drifted off once again into a now, thankfully, dreamless slumber.