Maarten didn't feel like resting.

He couldn't even sit still.

Instead he paced his room restlessly. Glancing at the clock on the wall and mumbling to himself.

The piece of paper burned in his pocket and he felt compelled to look at it every five minutes – just to see if he suddenly understood its true significance and power.
Yet it always remained the same. Ink on paper. A circle and some straight lines inter-crossing here and there. It was just a symbol to him – it held no meaning beyond what he knew it would do.

It was like Cécile said; they would be branded.

Maarten wasn't sure he liked that idea at all.
Too many factors were unknown to him – things he didn't even know about could go wrong.
It was unfamiliar territory in every sense and Maarten didn't like going into the unknown like this.
God knew he had done so far too many times so far.

He asked himself the same questions over and over again.

Was it dangerous?
Most likely.

Would it hurt?
Definitely.

Was it a bad idea?
One hundred percent yes.

Maarten sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his own hair.

He really needed to hear from someone that this was the right thing to do. Someone who knew enough to tell him what he needed to know in a way he could understand.

Erik was probably his best bet here he decided.
He knew both he and Cécile would be awake still; and considering they were going to do this together, Maarten figured it was his best bet to clear his mind.

Ask a few questions. Talk it all over.
Sort out his own thoughts.

Simple.

He found them in the basement and unfortunately he walked right in on Erik sitting shirtless in his chair, Cécile in deep concentration as she finished the tattoo on her husband's chest.

"Never learnt to knock did you?" Erik said with a slight wry smile.

"I'm sorry," Maarten mumbled, averting his gaze. It felt like he'd walked into something far too intimate that he shouldn't bear witness to.
He heard Erik chuckle, and then Cécile berate him for moving too much.

"I'm almost done if you want to have a look," Cécile said softly after a moment and Maarten hesitantly lifted his gaze up towards Erik.

The tattoo was centred just above his heart, the circle about 5 centimetres in diameter – a swirl curling inwards to a small dot in the midst of it all.
Simple in essence.

The runes however; they were a little more complicated.

Maarten frowned at the sight. He wasn't really sure what the runes all meant; and despite the fact that the others had told him it was to do with channelling and containing magic, he still couldn't quite grasp each rune's true significance.

"It looks good at least," he mumbled as he took a closer look at Erik's tattoo.

"Well your turn next," Cécile grinned.

"Can't wait," Maarten replied through gritted teeth.

"Come on, your pain tolerance is inhuman now. Surely you can handle a tattoo?" Erik smiled wryly at him.

"Pardon me then," Maarten bit back. "I just don't like being branded with words I don't understand."

"I thought we made it quite clear..." Erik looked puzzled now. "They guide the magic from outside and concentrate it here," he pointed to the centre of the circle. "The runes help channel and lock the magic in place, effectively acting as a key and will help us actually have control over it."

"So each rune will have to be one hundred percent correct?"

"Yes."

Maarten frowned.
"This is doing wonders for my nerves," he sighed. "Please tell me you won't make any mistakes."

"Well I'll try not to. However even if I make the runes correct they still have to stay on your skin for long enough to challenge the magic. I mean.. if you heal over the ink too quickly or something then gods know what will happen to you once we try to channel magic into you," Erik waved his arm around, seconds away from going on a long ramble about the importance of runes.

"You know what," Maarten sighed. "Just get it over with. I don't care any more," he grumbled as he unbuttoned his shirt, muttering to himself as he regarded the chair Erik sat in as a torture device.

"Well I think we can use regular ink for you too," Erik hummed. "No need for garlic to be added here since it has no effect on you at all."

"Lucky," Cécile sighed. "I do kinda miss garlic in my food."

"You don't need to eat," Maarten pointed out bluntly.

"Doesn't mean I don't enjoy it," Cécile huffed. "Although I do miss garlic..." she sighed.

"It won't kill you to have a slice of garlic bread," Erik reminded her. "But I don't think you should eat it, considering I might have to pump you full of other vitamins afterwards."

"I know," Cécile sulked. They had all witnessed Gilbert's attempt at eating a whole loaf of garlic bread – for then to struggle with breathing. It hadn't been a pretty sight and if Erik had been less of a quick thinker Maarten was certain the albino vampire would have been nothing more than dust now.

"Anyway," Erik mumbled as he gave Cécile's head an affectionate pat. "Let's swap seats and we'll get your tattoo over and done with too."

"Uh.." Maarten grimaced slightly as he swapped seats with Erik, glancing over at Cécile who had now perched herself on top of Erik's desk.
"Are you staying too?" he asked her a little wearily as he removed his shirt completely, now a little bit self-conscious about the numerous scars all across his chest and back. Scars that never healed.
He had hoped his 'new' super regenerative abilities would erase them all – but it seemed that he was stuck with the ones he had forever.

"Why not?" Cécile smirked. "I'm here to ogle him. Not you," she giggled and Maarten wanted to move his chair far away from the both of them.

"Ugh Erik please put on a shirt," Maarten mumbled.

"What's wrong with my chest?" Erik looked offended at the idea that he had to cover himself up. "What have I got that you haven't seen before?" he looked down at his own chest with a frown. "Seriously. Minus the tattoos..." Maarten heard him mumble to himself.

"That's not the problem. I don't care how many tattoos you have. Or why the fuck you even have some of those, is that a serpent of sorts?" Maarten shook his head, aware he was now rambling. "Never mind don't answer that. It's more the- oh fuck this," Maarten sighed. "Just get this damned thing done with quickly."

"Can't rush runes and sigils," Erik explained as he picked up the tattoo needle and inspected it thoroughly. "One wrong line and we'll be putting the magic somewhere we don't want it."

"Great," Maarten grumbled. As if he wasn't nervous enough before.
If he survived this he would need a very long holiday. At least a year.

The tattoo needle wasn't really painful. He was far too numb for such a small thing to do any real damage, which Erik discovered meant he healed a lot faster than he had anticipated.

"Fucking hell your skin almost grows over the needle before I can drag it out again," Erik hissed. "Maybe I should add garlic to this ink as well..."

"Sure, if you think that will make it work," Maarten shrugged. "Get it over with..."
He was a little surprised he healed as fast as he did, but refused to let it show.

He waited patiently as Erik dug out the ingredients for the ink he'd used on Mircea, trying very hard to not appear as nervous as he felt.

Ten minutes later and Erik was back and ready for another attempt.

"Now see this works just fine," he hummed happily as Maarten's skin didn't try to heal over the needle.

"Great," Maarten gritted his teeth. He could feel a dull ache in his chest as the tattoo grew larger and larger; and while it wasn't enough to make him panic, it certainly made him more nervous.

Cécile and Erik didn't seem bothered by it at all – Cécile was even singing softly to herself.

Maarten didn't even notice that there were other's watching him until Erik declared it all done and he stood up to retrieve his shirt.

He paused as he spotted a pair of green eyes locked on to him.

"How long have they been awake?" he whispered to Erik.

"Hm?" Erik looked up at Maarten before following his gaze. "Oh!" he uttered in surprise as he saw what Maarten was looking at.

"Wonderful!" Erik exclaimed and near jumped over to the cages. "You're all awake!" he was positively ecstatic. Thankfully Cécile was right at his heels – reminding him to put on a shirt now that their other guests were awake.

"Welcome to our home," Cécile smiled as Erik tried to button his shirt up far too quickly, resulting in several buttons being in the wrong place.

"Welcome? To this prison?" one of the vampires replied coolly. "You must be joking."

"Not at all, this is really just a precaution for the few humans left in this house," Cécile explained to the pale haired vampire. "Neither of you have been yourself recently, surely you must have realised that yourself."

"Well..." the woman sneered but didn't object to Cécile's words.

"My name is Cécile. This is my husband Erik, and that tall man over there would be Maarten," Cécile held her hand out for the other woman to shake and slowly she extended her hands out between the bars to take Cécile's hands.

"Natalia," the woman replied. "That there is Ivan and Oksana, my siblings," she explained flatly as she pointed to two other vampires contained within cells, who in turn waved and smiled rather sweetly at Cécile.

"Very nice to meet you all," Cécile smiled at them all in return. "And you sir?" Cécile turned to the green eyed vampire, who had yet to say a word – just kept his gaze on Maarten.

"His name is Antonio," another vampire further down the line of cells replied. "And you won't get a word out of him as long as that Vampire hunter is in the same room."

"Oh..." Cécile turned around and looked at Maarten. "Do you know one another?" she asked.

"Vaguely..." Maarten grumbled.

"Well if he won't talk, you guys will right?" Cécile said as she made her way down to the other cells.
She paused once she got to the vampire who had spoken up – eyes wide as she stared at the man behind the bars.

"Romano?" she whispered.

"Cécile?" Romano replied, just as surprised at seeing her as she was at seeing him.

"Ohmygod I didn't recognise you before I'm so sorry," Cécile looked distraught as her cousin smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry. I didn't recognise myself either," he tried to laugh. "Neither did Feliciano," he gestured to the cell next to him and Cécile looked as if she was about to faint.

"You're both vampires?" she nearly shrieked. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Ah yes. What a great thing to mention in our Christmas cards," Romano mumbled. "Hello cousin dearest. Feliciano and I have had an unfortunate incident and we're now actually dead. Merry Christmas. We can't go to mass ever again." Romano frowned. "I don't see you informing us about your little transformation," he hissed the last words and Cécile blushed.

"Idiots," Cécile huffed quickly. "Erik," she turned to her husband. "Get the keys."

"Hang on..." Erik rummaged through his desk, producing the keys to the prison cells.

"Wait just one fucking moment," Maarten grabbed the keys from Erik's hand and stared at the long line of vampires in their respective cells.
"What guarantee do we have that none of you will hurt anyone when we let you out?"

"Our word?" Feliciano offered. "Will that be good enough?"

"For you. Maybe. However, I doubt he'll give me that much," Maarten spat and gestured to the green eyed vampire.

"You'd be so lucky," the vampire hissed in return.

"Right, care to explain? Anyone?" Cécile crossed her arms and looked at Maarten defiantly.

"This fucker dated my sister once," Maarten muttered darkly.

"You murdered my brother!" the vampire screamed, hands curled around the silver bars as he bared his fangs at Maarten.

"Oh here we go again," Erik sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just once I wish things could go without a hitch."

"Hey. I murdered no one," Maarten spat. "He's lying."

"You're the liar here," Antonio spat back, eyes glowing with rage. "I don't know what you've told the others or what lies you've told yourself ,but you killed him."

"Well if I did then he clearly had it coming now didn't he?" Maarten replied flatly.

"I'll kill you!" Antonio yelled and beat his fists against the bars.

"Just you fucking try," Maarten took a step closer to the cell as he spoke. "Just you fucking try."

"Let me out of her and I'll give it a good go," Antonio hissed, fingers wrapped tightly against the bars, and Maarten could see he was trying to bend them apart.

"Sorry. I don't let vampires out if they can't be trusted. I've got human to protect."

"I have no desire to hurt any little weak human," Antonio spat at Maarten's feet. "Only you."

"Well you better get used to this little cell then," Maarten smirked. "It'll be your new home from now on I think."

"You can't lock me up forever!"

"Want to bet?" Maarten crossed his arms.

"Okay, both of you calm the hell down," Erik interjected and stepped up between them. "This is ridiculous. What are you two? Five years old?"

"He murdered my brother!" Antonio pointed accusingly at Maarten.

"Yes I heard that. We all heard that," Erik sighed. "And Maarten said he didn't."

"So you're taking his word over mine?" Antonio snarled.

"I'm taking no ones word right now," Erik snapped. "You're both going to explain yourself fully and then I'll decide what we do," he said with such authority Antonio's frown momentarily changed into an expression of surprise.

"This is my home. I decide who stays here or not," Erik continued, turning around to snatch the keys away from Maarten. "Now, if everyone promises not to harm anyone else I am more than willing to let you all out. And my word here is law."
He said the last word firmly, glaring at Maarten for a moment before his expression softened as he handed the keys to Cécile.

Maarten had far too many counterarguments swirling around his mind to formulate one properly into words. Erik was right.
Yet, also not.

All he could think as Cécile began unlocking the doors to her cousin's cells was that this was a horrible mistake.