Sorry, everybody, it's time to mess with the boys again. Trigger warnings for brief mentions of suicidal thoughts (sort of). Reviews would be much appreciated as I'm constantly worried about messing this fic up...

Disclaimer: Pretty sure CBBC would never put their characters through this. I am not them, therefore I don't own Young Dracula.

Bertrand was shaking uncontrollably, clinging to the edges of the coffin, desperately trying to hold onto his dignity.
"B. B, you're alright, let's just roll you over onto your back, shall we?"
"Don't-" Don't call me that, he meant to say, that's his name for me, just his. "Don't-!"
"B. I'm all the way over here, I'm not doing anything. And I'm not leaving you, either. Please, Bertrand, just... calm down, I don't know how to help you calm down."
"How could I be calm-? Why do you care? Isn't it enough without making me pretend to enjoy-?"
"B. Oh, B, love. Please-"
"Do you want me to pretend to love you? I'll never love you." Only Robin, I love Robin.

"I'll never love you." Robin flinched backwards against the wall; the words cut deep. He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean- he thinks he's back there, talking to his sire. As he told himself that, the solution became a little clearer.
"Bertrand, my beautiful husband, it's me. Robin. It's me, Robin. Just... nobody's touching you, nobody's near you, you can stand up or roll over any time you like-" His husband was trembling, shuddering violently, his fingers curled around the rim of the coffin while he knelt inside it. His back was arched horribly, like a frightened cat, and he didn't seem to be relaxing.
"Just kill me, or let me go. Please." Now Robin was frightened; they didn't keep many weapons in their coffin-room, but for the sake of Bertrand's sanity there were a couple stashed away and if he remembered where they were Robin couldn't stop him from hurting himself.
"I'm going to move round to the head of the coffin, B, just me, just your Robin, and then you can see me and maybe it'll help. Don't be scared, OK?" He moved as he spoke, trying to keep his voice level and soothing even though he felt like crying, like breaking things, like running a million miles from the heavy responsibility of keeping Bertrand from shattering completely.

He knelt at the head of the coffin and gently, carefully, reached out to touch Bertrand's cheek. His lover's head snapped up, fangs already bared in a terrified hiss, and then his wide, tearful eyes met Robin's. All the tension seemed to drain from him as he realised where he was and who he was with; at least, Robin thought he might know where he was, now.
"Robin. Did you chase him away?" He nodded helplessly, trying to get Bertrand back to some semblance of rationality.
"He's dust, Bertrand, I promise. You staked him yourself. He can't hurt you any more. Now how about you roll onto your back for me and maybe I can come and sit with you in the coffin, would you like that?" Bertrand nodded in return, slowly, and then let himself slump sideways until he was lying with his back against the coffin wall and there was space for Robin to slip in beside him. He settled down, his back against the head of the coffin so that he could sit up, and let Bertrand be the one to move. The older vampire rested his head in Robin's lap and went still, eyes slipping shut.
"My Robin," he murmured.
"Yours," Robin confirmed, and ran a gentle hand through his husband's wild curls.

Bertrand didn't speak again, or move, so Robin stayed silent too, running his fingers through Bertrand's hair and watching over him as he slept, or thought, or just was. Whatever he was doing, it was probably important, and Robin had no intention of disturbing him. He had his own thoughts to sort through, after all.

He'd come to realise, over the few years they'd been bloodbound – and even the ones before that, when they were just together all the time – that Bertrand had two different types of panic when it came to his sire and what had happened between them. The first was the kind he'd most recently experienced back at Ingrid's; horror and shame and disgust, mixed with a completely unfounded fear that he'd hurt Robin and a desperate need to protect him. The second sort of fear took him over completely, blocking out his senses until he was sure that he was back there, reliving it or perhaps simply suffering it still. He lost control, reacting to stimuli – real or perceived – based on pure animal instinct, it seemed. Robin wasn't sure which of the two was more heartbreaking, but he did know that being close to Robin, in his own coffin, with – Robin reached out of the coffin, careful not to disturb his lover, and tucked a little vampire teddy under his arm – all the comforts of home around him... it seemed to help.

Bertrand had managed to lie on his front, with Robin watching him carefully from the other side of the room, for about a minute before he'd started trembling. Robin's assurances that he could get up had only led him to the position he'd wound up in on his knees, shaking like a leaf, and it had taken longer than Robin would have wished to calm him down.
"Mine," Bertrand mumbled from his lap, "and I'm yours?" Robin smiled sadly, knowing his husband couldn't see.
"All yours, Bertrand, and you're mine too. I love you."
"Love you," Bertrand murmured sleepily, and some of the tension Robin hadn't realised he was still holding in his shoulders eased a fraction. I'll never love you.
"We're going to have to talk about this later, love," he warned gently, and Bertrand moved aside so that Robin had room to lie down, which he did.
"Later. Yes. Sleep?" There was something almost childlike about Bertrand when he came out of his panics, and Robin found it equally worrying and endearing. He seemed to wear himself out in his terror, too, which was understandable. Robin was tired, too, from the flight.
"Yes, love. Sleep."

Bertrand woke with a gasp he didn't need and grabbed at Robin's shirt. Robin grabbed back before he opened his eyes, then released him with a sigh.
"B. Blood, don't do that. I thought we were under attack. You alright?"
"I'm scared." It was hard to admit, even with the comforting haze of sleep still upon him. "I'm scared, and I don't know why." Robin sat up, obviously being careful not to dislodge the vampire still clinging to his shirt, and wrapped his arms around him.
"It's OK. That's OK. Take your time calming down, love, I'm right here."
"I don't understand." He felt broken. Understanding was never something he'd struggled with, but now he couldn't figure himself out, never mind anything else. "You're touching my back and it's comforting, but then-"
"Shhhh. It's just one of those things, you can think about it when you've settled a bit." He buried his head against Robin's chest and obediently tried to calm himself.

"You're safe," he heard, as Robin pressed clumsy kisses into his hair, "and you're at home, and you're so, so loved, Bertrand. You can relax. It's alright."
"If I relax, I might cry," Bertrand mumbled reluctantly, but Robin just kissed him again.
"Then cry. You're safe here, and I won't judge you."
"You... you don't like to see me cry." It was doubtful, though, and he tensed up once more as he awaited Robin's response.

"Go ahead and cry, you useless heap of bones. You're almost pretty when you cry. This is what I paid for, is it? I've half a mind to go and kill your parents for short-changing me, but they did at least try to train you up for me. It's your own fault you're so pathetic- but you do cry so well. Cry for me, you worthless-"

"No," Robin told him, "I don't like that you're sad, but if you want to cry I'll never be upset with you. Just with whatever's making you- blood, Bertrand, what did I say?" He realised he'd succumbed to noisy tears at last, sobbing with an abandon he'd barely allowed himself even in the worst of his panic attacks.
"I don't deserve you," he managed through his tears, "I'm... I'm worthless and pathetic-"
"No, love." Bertrand felt a hand on his cheek, turning his face upwards so that Robin could kiss away his tears. "You're beautiful, and so clever, and you mean so much to me. You're so special, B, so precious."
"I'm not- I'm lucky anyone would even look at me-"
"Shhhh. No. What's brought this on?"
"He- he said-" He swallowed hard. "But you always tell me not to tell you."
"Oh, love, that's not- I just didn't want you to say it so often you started believing it. If you want to tell me what he said, of course you can. Just... none of it is probably true."
"I- he- you're sure I can tell you?"
"Of course, love, if you want. Do you want to sit up so we can talk without falling asleep again?" Bertrand nodded slowly.
"Unless- you should sleep, I woke you-"
"None of that. Come on, let's go to the window seat, shall we?"

He allowed himself to be guided to the window seat and held close against his Robin for a moment before he realised that if they were going to talk about this, he needed to see that it was his husband sitting with him. Carefully, he shifted to lean against one side of the alcove, facing across what had once been the window, and Robin moved to mirror his position and rest his feet gently against Bertrand's.
"I... he told me. I'm worthless and pathetic, he- he said I was almost pretty when I cried, but- and I cried, Robin, I was so weak- and- and I was lucky he even touched me."
"Bertrand, no, you weren't weak, and you're not, and you've never been worthless or pathetic. You're beautiful, and what he did to you was-"
"He- I- I was built for pain, trained for pain, and he- he wanted to test me- but I was- I was- I couldn't even do that right-"
"No, that's not true." Robin seemed to be grasping for the right words, but he took Bertrand's hands in his own and kissed them gently. "You were born, not built, and for so much better than what he put you through. And there is no right way to go through what you went through, or a wrong way, either. It happened to you, you had no control over it-"
"I- Robin-"
"OK, sorry, that just made it worse, didn't it? What I'm trying to say is that all the fault is with him, for what he did."
"I- he wanted me to beg- he wanted- I didn't ask for it, Robin, I swear I didn't, the only thing I begged for was-"
"Just kill me, or let me go. Please."
"-I... I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted it to stop, Robin, I wanted it to be over-" And then Robin was there, wrapping his arms around him and enfolding him in a tender embrace.
"I understand, love. It's OK. It's all going to be OK." He didn't know how that could be true, but he let himself be held and felt tears dropping onto his back.
"...I'm sorry I upset you-"
"Shhh. No. Just... calm, now. Shall we?"

It didn't make a lot of sense, but he got the idea. He snuggled closer against his Robin and fell silent, reassured by the solid, comforting presence of his husband's arms around him.