Sitting comfortably, Abraham crossed his ankles, leaned back, and looked at his vampire...and scowled. Dammit, what now? The vampire was listing visibly to the side, eyes vague.
"ALUCARD!" The only response was the eyes slowly shifting to gaze in his direction, but entirely unfocused. Bloody hell, the damn monster was falling apart on him again. Well, if the beast wouldn't speak, a physical exam was in order. It was unlikely to be some sort of missed physical damage, but he'd learned so many surprising things about how vampires worked already, this needed to be ruled out. For all he knew, an oak splinter or a wild rose thorn in its foot might be doing this!
"Get on the table." Pointing to the shining steel exam table, Abraham expected his vampire to follow that order. Slowly, clumsily perhaps, but it would follow them. Hands now cased in rubber gloves, he turned around to see the vampire only staring at the table, not moving. "NOW. Move it. Get on the table and lie down." Shuffling, dear God that monster was slow! He only hoped it was some sort of thorn or odd weakness that would be easily corrected and avoided. Glaring at the beast, he had to wonder...was it simply being creatively recalcitrant? No, the binding would punish it if it was trying to disobey, even with a delay.
Vampire supine on the table, it was a matter of moments before his sharp scalpel had snicked through the clothes, and they'd been reduced to a pile of rags on the floor. Not even a twitch from the beast as this occurred, not good, not good at all. Even the sight of the scalpel generally reduced the beast to a shivering mess, making it deucedly hard to work on!
A quick look, cursory examination, revealed nothing. Frowning, Abraham began a more in-depth study, poking and prodding and palpating. Wait...the men had used the vampire. Had they left something inside, accidentally or deliberately? A silver needle or a silver coin, anything physical like that, with the continued damage...perhaps. Ankles were lifted and placed in the stirrups provided for just such an examination, a speculum and curved mirror allowing a close inspection. No, as deep as it was conceivable the men could have penetrated, the walls were smooth. No scars, no tearing, nothing there. That had not caused this reaction.
The vampire had been badly damaged in the sun, and then it had become useless. It had woken during the hunt somewhat, been severely damaged by the other vampire, and become useless again. It wasn't damaged this time, not that he could find, but perhaps there were wounds under the skin that he'd missed. He'd have to look. The skin always healed first, preventing any additional blood loss, but he'd learned early on that it could be a covering over severely damaged tissue underneath!
A break, then. If he was going to look under the skin, he'd need to heal the beast afterwards. Blood was definitely required, and he'd best harvest that first.
"Stay on the table." Stripping his gloves off, removing the band with its light from his head, Abraham scooped up a pair of bottles, tubing, and a handful of needles and stomped off. Alucard remained motionless and obedient on the table. Abraham paused momentarily...should he take the legs out of the stirrups? No, it was possible that one of the men would reveal that they had forced something inimical deep inside the vampire, and he'd just have to arrange it yet again.
The men were well-used to the routine of the blood draws and knew that it was necessary to keep their prized tool functional. With a minimum of plaints, they gave enough blood to fill both bottles to the brim. They'd also claimed to have no idea what had set the vampire off kilter so badly; they'd done nothing more than usual except the coffin and the starvation, nothing at all since. They had not even interacted with it, per Abraham's orders. Nothing had been inserted other than their own appendages, nothing injected, nothing. Nodding thanks, Abraham headed back downstairs, brow furrowed.
He'd fully expected to find torn and damaged tissues. But he'd cut and peeled up the skin on each limb, one at a time, to find the vampire whole underneath. A deeper search through the viscera, and all was in place, all intact. Unexpectedly, he did not need any restraints at all; the vampire did not even twitch, much less scream and writhe! Pouring the last of the second bottle down its throat, he watched the vampire's skin mend, knitting rapidly. Even the stomach muscles had become smooth to the touch, fully restored already!
Perhaps the mind? He'd avoided working with the vampire's brain, worried that damage there might not heal as damage elsewhere had. Was it possible that something was embedded in the skull, even penetrated entirely? If he could not find out what had happened, trepanning and dissection of his own vampire's brain might be necessary. Not something he wanted to do unless it was as a last resort!
Perhaps writing down what he had done would help him think of an additional step, pull something else into focus. And he'd want the record for later, in any case. Returning to his chair, he pulled it up to the desk and began to record the events of the last days relevant to Alucard's damage, and what he had done to determine why.
For now...bah. The vampire had been barely functional as soon as he'd entered the cell. It had only deteriorated from that point. Hmmm...was it simply that dependent on Jason and Sam, that being away from them would trigger this collapse? It wasn't due to physical damage, maybe it wasn't something that was done to the beast...but something that was removed?
It was much too late to return his vampire to the infirmary. The sun would either rise soon or was already in the sky; he wasn't certain how long he'd spent with the vampire, but it had been several hours. For now, it would be set back in the coffin, and he himself would seek his own bed. Tomorrow evening, he'd put it back with Sam and Jason, and see what happened.
-v-v-
Mind watched as Van Helsing moved about the lab, putting items away, writing down notes. Soul was silent, in the corner of the room, far from Body, simply staring bleakly at nothing. Body...Body had been healthy, Body had helped hold him together even after realizing that he was being taken to the research room again. Soul had screamed in panic, Mind had struggled to determine an escape, and both had been anchored, albeit loosely.
The exam had shaken Body a bit, reduced its health slightly, and both Mind and Soul had used the opportunity to struggle even more. Then the cutting began, and Body was damaged...and both had nearly ripped free. Only the slightest of gossamer threads held him together. They would fade, would snap, would not last long. Mind estimated a day or two at most, perhaps only an hour or so.
It would mean death, a final death. And he should not ever have been fractured like this to begin with. But with each new round of damage, be it mental, physical, or emotional, he no longer had the resiliency to cope with it. Broken once, he was fragile...broken a second time, he'd never quite fully recovered. And now broken a third time...even should he be allowed to heal, he didn't know if it was possible. Nor did he quite know if he wanted to be healed. This would simply happen, again and again and again, years more of pain, terror, abuse...
Mind simply floated, thinking, debating, observing, as Abraham pulled the Body from the table, carried it to the coffin, and unceremoniously dropped it in. The lid was pulled over the form, and as Abraham left, Soul crept reluctantly in to sit staring in the corner. Mind moved to his own corner, stretching the gossamer thread connecting him to Soul to near-invisibility, and settled to wait.
Wait for death, for recovery, for both or neither, but to wait nonetheless.