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Dracula should never have come back to England. He had been resigned to his choices before coming back, before seeing Agatha again. Although he hadn't been able to rid himself of his feelings for her, Dracula had been able to bury them deep within himself, had been able to travel and explore the delights of the world without her spectre hanging over him. Fool that he was Dracula had thought she had lost her power over him. Yet here he was back little more than a couple of weeks and he was right back where he started from.

He craved her like no woman he had ever known before, knew he would jump through all manner of hoops just to make her smile. Yet just as Agatha brought out the best in him, she also brought out the worst. All those months of careful negotiation, first by letter, then those weeks in Italy of playing the respectful charming suitor. All undone in one night, and all because he couldn't control himself around Agatha.

The Pazzi family were not pleased with him, of that Dracula was certain. And to be fair he couldn't blame them. He had invited them to England, he had hosted a party at which their darling daughter should have been the focus, and he had spent the night quite openly obsessed with another woman. It was ironic that Dracula had only invited Agatha in the hopes he would elicit a jealous reaction from her, and then it was his own jealousy that had been on display.

It also amused him that the only Pazzi family member who didn't seem bothered by this was Isabella herself.

Perhaps the young woman really was as naïve as she presented, or perhaps she was relieved that his suit for her hand had hit what seemed an insurmountable stumbling block. Dracula had always gained the impression that she preferred her other suitor, although Isabella was too well trained to show that in any way that would be obvious, Dracula doubted she would dare. It was a shame in some ways that it was unlikely they would marry now; if only for Isabella, who would have gained so much by being surrounded by the headstrong women of his clan.

Of course, this left him back at square one…again…

If only Agatha wasn't so damn stubborn. If she wasn't all but immune to his influence. They would be happy together, even if it wouldn't be a peaceful marriage. Dracula did not expect miracles, but he certainly would not be bored, and he would treasure her.

Readying himself for bed, included a quick shower, a rough towel dry of his hair, whilst he allowed the rest of him to air dry. He was too damn tired, to bother dressing for bed, pulling back the covers ready to flop into it. Yet despite his exhaustion after the long day and night, Dracula finally caved and reached into his bedside cabinet to retrieve one of his prize possessions; there was one itch he still needed to scratch.

He had kept them separate from the rest of his clothes, so as to try and maintain the scent. Still it had been two years and it had faded somewhat. He took it to bed with him, bringing the scrunched-up t-shirt to his nose and breathing in deeply. Yes…it…she was still there…lovely… His other hand dropped to his cock, closing his eyes as he imagined it was Agatha's hand and not his own.

It wasn't hard, he had such a deliciously vivid memory of her all dressed up, for him to work with.

Her blues eyes sparkled wickedly as he conjured her…they were out on the terrace again, the noise of the party in the background. Only this time instead of pushing him away and leaving him panting after her. Agatha leant up to kiss him. Her tongue tracing his lips lightly as her dexterous little hand unzipped his trousers, slipping inside to touch him. Curling her fist around him and stroking him like a cat. So gentle and then a sharp tug as if to punish him for his earlier behaviour, had Dracula whimpering.

"Agatha…" Dracula grunted, falling deeper into the fantasy, sleep creeping into the edges of his brain, his own hand slowing as the dream version slowly took over.

He could feel her now, pressed against him whilst her hand worked him into a frenzy. One of his hands gripped the balcony railing, the other reaching to grope her breast through the thin satin fabric; his lust only growing as he felt her nipple harden under his palm. He wanted nothing more than to rip the dress from her, yet he felt Agatha's nails on his tender flesh the moment he seemed to think of it.

"Please…" He pleaded with her, staring down into her gaze, love and lust drunk on her. "Please."

It seemed only natural when she grinned, showing off her fangs and sank to the floor.

"Fuck yes…"

She took him into her mouth, and Dracula groaned, as the head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat. Then she started to suck and lather him with her tongue, and he was so sooo close already. Hand gripping the back of her head, Dracula began to fuck her mouth, gently at first, he didn't want to hurt or alarm her. But this Agatha merely smirked up at him, her tongue doing sinful things as it flicked against him…his control was slipping…he was going to…he was…

Of all the things Agatha Van Helsing expected to find in her dreams that evening, this was not one of them.

The Count yes, considering the night they had just had, she knew they would inevitably meet in their dreams at some point, she had almost resigned herself to that…had almost been looking forward to it. She had even gone to bed as soon as she had gotten home, despite knowing that the party would probably carry on for a few more hours before winding up. Agatha knew she would end up waiting for him to fall asleep and join her.

She hadn't expected this sudden violent intrusion into her dream…she had been back at the party only this time there had been dancing but no Dracula, and Agatha knew she was waiting for him…Only now he was here, and she was suddenly down on her knees on the balcony, her mouth full of Dracula's cock, gagging as he unloaded down her throat.

Pushing him away, Agatha spat and coughed up his cum onto the concrete balcony floor.

"What the fuck…you pervert." Agatha barked amongst coughs.

"Agatha what's wrong?" Dracula asked confused by her sudden anger. The moment before she had been the one teasing him to let go, and now she was berating him for doing so.

"I don't understand." He added, frowning in confusion at his lover.

Dragging herself back upright, Agatha didn't wait before slapping him…once…twice… only stopping when Dracula caught her wrist and pushed her back against the balcony edge.

"Going to throw me off a balcony this time?" Agatha snapped, struggling futilely in his iron grip.

"Agatha." Dracula repeated her name like a benediction. His gaze probing her face as though it would give him some answers. The eyes that stared up at him were the same hue as before, and yet there was something more behind them. "You can't be here…"

"Can't I?" She hissed. "Sorry to interrupt your little wanking session, but do you mind not using me in such a way, it's degrading."

"But…but…this isn't real…this is a dream at most."

"Wake up and smell the coffee idiot, just because it is a dream that doesn't mean it isn't real."

Gaping in shock it took Dracula a few moments for everything to sink in… "You mean its been really you every time?"

"I don't know about every time, but it was certainly me you threw off a damn mountain; thank you so much for that experience by the way, I never had a fear of heights before that. It was also me that night after we first met at that club, you were feeding on Lucy and thinking of me…I think that's how it starts…I have to be asleep and dreaming of you, and you have to be at least in a deep meditative state and thinking of me."

"And we can be together so easily?"

"I don't know about easily; I think we need to have had recent physical contact or be in a reasonable proximity. I didn't have any of these shared dreams whilst you were off on your travels. Of course, that might have been because you didn't dream about me…"

"It must have been the distance, because believe me Agatha I 'dreamt' about you plenty." Dracula replied with a lascivious wink that had Agatha squirming, in not quite displeasure.

"I suppose you think I should be flattered."

"You should." Dracula teased. "I have always imagined you most favourably."

"Thanks…I think."

"Confess Agatha, do you expect me to believe, in all the years we have known each other, you have never indulged yourself with a dream version of me?" Dracula pressed, taking advantage of their relative positions to rub himself against her, feeling her tremble through the thin satin of her dress.

"That is d..different…" Agatha stammered, trying to push away just how good it felt to feel the weight of him again.

"Why, because it is you doing it?" Dracula gleefully pointed out her hypocrisy, leaning down to press a light kiss to her exposed neck. "Hmmm you smell lovely…did you know that?"

"Dracula we can't…"

"Why can't we?" He muttered in between kisses along her neck, finally nuzzling under her jawline.

"Because…because…" Agatha struggled to think of a reason, his mouth on her skin was a terrible distraction.

"It's just a dream Agatha…no consequences…please let me have this at least. Even its only for tonight, let us have this." He pleaded, tongue tracing the curve of her ear, before sucking the lobe into his mouth. His hand back on her breast, this time massaging it gently, his thumb nails circling the peak of her nipple through the thin fabric.

"Not…not here…not like this." Agatha groaned, she could still hear the murmur of the party guests, and she was not made to be an exhibitionist, not even in her dreams.

"I could change the scenery."

"You know damn well that was not what I meant." Agatha huffed, digging down for the strength to resist and push him away.

"Why do you always have to say no." Dracula huffed, before awkwardly refastening his trousers. "It's always no with you, and you never explain why. Don't you owe me that much?"

He was right…Agatha hated to admit but Dracula was right. She did always refuse him and then refuse to explain why.

"Yes."

Frowning Dracula turned, smoothing back his hair, which had fallen down from its usual style. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I do owe you an explanation, why I won't…why I can't give you what you want." Agatha answered bravely. "But you need to take my hand."

"Why?" Now Dracula was really confused.

"Because I will need something to hang on to…this is not a memory I ever wanted to relive, but you need to see it to understand…I owe you that much."

Moving from confused to concerned, Dracula took more than her hand, he took all of her into his arms, holding her tightly in his embrace. He wished he was altruistic enough to tell her she didn't need to show him, that her word was enough, but he wasn't that good a person, and he wanted her too much to simply back off. This was Agatha throwing down the gauntlet, and Dracula had to be man enough to pick it up.

"Close your eyes." Agatha prompted him, and he did as he was bade.

The first thing he noticed was the heat…gone was the cool breeze from his terrace, replaced by what felt like furnace heat and the smell…blood and shit and all manner of other bodily fluids. Dracula was used to certain smells, he regularly handled corpses and that meant he had encountered many unpleasant things over the years, but he had never smelt anything quite like this.

He opened his eyes to find himself in a darkened bedroom, the shutters barred and the fire blazing out heat. On the bed was a woman in labour, or at least he assumed she was, her stomach was large with child and she was screaming out in pain. Yet it was the young girl beside her that Dracula recognised. Her face was chubbier, but there was no hiding those gawkishly long limbs or too intelligent eyes, and he watched as she tried her best to keep the labouring woman comfortable.

Yet they were alone, no midwife or doctor attending, just Agatha and someone Dracula presumed was her mother.

"Why are you all alone?"

"Father had wracked up some debts, the doctor refused to come unless he was going to be paid this time and the midwife was at another delivery." Agatha muttered against his shoulder, she didn't need to turn and see what was happening behind her, she had lived through it once.

"Surely there was a maid servant or a neighbour who could have helped?"

"We couldn't keep a servant because we couldn't afford to pay them, and I sent my eldest brother for a neighbour, but they didn't come…I…I don't remember why." Agatha explained her voice, almost monotone as she tried to block out the noise from inside the room. "I did the best I could, but the baby was coming earlier than expected, and he hadn't turned."

Dracula watched as the scene in front of him, turned into something from his own worst nightmares. There was blood, more blood than even he had seen, a child born feet first had ripped its mother apart from the inside, and a screaming Agatha had tried her best, her young hands red and slippery from her mother's blood, that she tried and tried to keep inside her. It looked like she had bathed in it, it had gotten all over her dress, her hair, even smeared on her face.

Eventually the child Agatha gave up, turning her attention to the baby that she had left laying on the bed. Her childish cries turning to screams of horror, as she realised not only had she failed to save her mother, but her inattention had meant her little brother had never drawn a breath, choking to death on the fluid that blocked his mouth.

"Agatha…Oh Agatha…"

"It was all my fault."

"No…no my love it was not, you did your best, that was not something any child should ever have to see."

"I should have been able to save them." Agatha sobbed. "It was my fault."

"No…no it wasn't." Dracula tried to convince her.

The memories around them blurring slightly, as if speeded up, and he caught sight of an ashen faced Agatha surrounded by six smaller children, trying her best to look after then, to keep them clean and fed and quiet. Dracula was powerless to intervene as he watched a man, clearly drunk, scream at her for some reason, his had never picked up Dutch, but he recognise bullying when he saw it. He watched as she was struck so hard she fell to the floor.

Then the room went dark and they were back on his terrace.

"So now you know." Agatha added softly, lifting her head from his shoulder, and wiping at her face; gathering her courage as she met his heartbroken gaze. "It's not that I don't love you enough…I do you know…I just can't ever go through that again. I'm sorry not even for you."

"Agatha…"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that it's alright I understand. Finally, I do understand." Dracula reassured her, as much of a complete bastard as he knew he was, even Dracula was shocked by what he had seen, and he could understand how completely traumatising that must have been for a young girl. Was it any wonder she had joined a convent?

"So, you know why you need to marry Isabella." Agatha added sadly. "I won't ever change my mind."

"Agatha…"

"No, I mean it. You need to marry her. You shouldn't settle for less just because of me. You need to let me go." Agatha insisted, pushing away the comfort he offered her.

Pushing him away physically. His kindness was not something she had ever expected, nor his sympathy, and it was too much on top of having to exhume that memory. She needed to escape, she needed to wake up and bury all of these memories again…and there was only one certain way of doing that.

"Agatha dearest will you please listen." Dracula began only for his flow to be cut off as Agatha pulled herself up to sit on the balcony railing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry." Agatha repeated before leaning over the side, pushing herself away, the sudden feeling of falling surrounding her, the fear and the panic, until she started awake in her bed all alone. Turning into her pillow she finally allowed the tears to fall. After years of suppressing those feelings, they could not just be shoved down again, she needed to lance this now if she had any hope of functioning later.

Alone on his balcony Dracula fumed, their discussion was not over, and he would be damned if he allowed Agatha to run away from him now that he knew the truth. He needed to see her, in person, awake, and for that he needed to wake up, and it seemed Agatha had already shown him how.

Leaping up on to the edge of the balcony, Dracula stared down at the street, it looked so realistic that for a moment he hesitated. Closing his eyes Dracula gathered his courage, then he took one step forward and fell.

Starting awake in his bed, Dracula was jarred by the sudden return to the real world. Taking a moment to recover, he then pushed himself out of bed, scrambling for a pair of sweat pants and a simple sweatshirt, toeing on a pair of shoes not even caring if they matched. Grabbing his phone and his keys, he summoned an Uber and was downstairs waiting for it to arrive.

No matter what Agatha said about wanting to be alone, of him letting her go, he knew she didn't mean it. She was only saying it because she thought it was what he wanted. Well only Count Dracula knew what was best for him, and it was about time Agatha Van Helsing stopped making those decisions for him. Because when it came down to it, a choice between a life with Isabella and a whole stable of children or Agatha…well the decision was obvious.

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