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Agatha knew she was being a coward. She had dumped a significant traumatic event on Dracula, and then ran away, before he even had time to process it. She had let him in, only to push him away again, and perhaps it would serve her right, if he really did decide Isabella would be much less trouble. Yet she couldn't allow herself to fall back to asleep, too afraid to continue that conversation, and have it confirmed that he agreed with her after all. If she didn't sleep, and they didn't talk, then Agatha could pretend nothing had changed.

That she hadn't admitted she loved him, and then forced him into the arms of another woman. Honestly Agatha wasn't sure what had possessed her to do either, she had panicked, and pushing him away seemed the safest thing to do at the time, but was it the right thing? Wouldn't she live to regret it? Could she really live the rest of eternity and watch him marry and raise a family with another woman? The very idea turned her stomach, but she couldn't be that selfish, couldn't claim him for herself and deny him the family he wanted.

Yet knowing Dracula, Agatha doubted he would let either thing simply be, he wouldn't be dictated to by her. If he wanted to marry Isabella he would do so, with or without her blessing, and if he didn't want to, then even Agatha's pushing wouldn't make him. Agatha also knew that he wouldn't simply let her pathetic declaration of love be forgotten either. She hadn't meant to blurt it out like she did, Agatha hadn't even realised she had said it until she had gotten back to her flat and played back their conversation.

It had been clumsy, and Agatha couldn't think of it now without shame. It was not how she had ever envisioned that conversation going. If Dracula ever asked her if she had meant it, Agatha knew she couldn't lie to him, not even to save face and pride. She did love him, as rotten as he was, and he was a complete arse at least 80% of the time. Still he was her arse…or was he now Isabella's? The not knowing was going to drive her insane…

The tapping sound at her window distracted Agatha from her inward spiral, and she frowned as it stopped then started again. A rhythm far to regular to be coincidence, and far to creative to be mechanical, which only left one possible culprit; unless her nesting pigeons had leant to tap out a four time beat.

Going to the window, Agatha pulled aside the curtains, honestly not surprised to find a certain dark-haired nuisance hanging off the window ledge. For a moment Agatha considered closing the curtains again, but then he pouted and gave her those pathetic puppy dog eyes, and before she knew it she was loosening the sash bolt and pushing the window up.

"Thank you, there was a most uncomfortable draft." Dracula sighed as he pulled himself up to sit on the ledge. "I am assuming I am being invited inside?"

"Still not overcome that habit yet?"

Nodding his head, Dracula shrugged. "I'm working on it, but it is at least good manners to ask."

"You can come in." Agatha added, just as much for her benefit as his. This was something she was choosing to do, no more running from this conversation, or from him.

"Good, I really wouldn't want to be caught up here. There are a surprising number of people lurking about considering the hour." Dracula huffed as he swung his legs over the ledge, and stepped into the room, closing the drafty window behind him.

Finally getting a proper look at Agatha, her eyes red and puffy from crying, Dracula considered all the things he wanted to say, and all the questions he wanted answers to. Suddenly they didn't seem quite as pressing, instead he opened his arms and gestured her towards him, his hands making little come-hither movements.

For a moment Agatha paused, glancing up at his face, gauging whether she was truly welcome, his patient calmness reassuring her that she was. She all but fell into his arms, the tears she thought all spent, brimming once more, as she buried her face into his neck.

"I've got you." Dracula cooed into her ear, his hands stroking her hair, her neck, rubbing her back…anything that she might find soothing. "Just let it out."

If anything, his comfort made her cry harder, and Dracula tightened his hold, realising than many of these tears had been held in for a lifetime. Agatha had buried this very deeply within herself, had carefully constructed her adult self around it; with strong defences to keep the trauma in and everyone else out. He doubted that anyone had comforted her since her mother's death. A child forced to grow up far too fast, to experience a horror she wasn't able to make sense of. It was something he could empathise with.

"Do you know how young I was when I first saw a man die?" Dracula asked her, knowing he had caught her interest when Agatha lifted her tearstained face from his shirt.

Brushing the tears from her cheeks, he continued. "I was eight, my father had been ruling Wallachia since I was five. It was a troubling time; our country was trapped in a tug of war between the Hungarian Kings and the Ottoman empire. The sultan sent a delegation to remind my father that we owed them tribute. It was a delicate situation, my father was committed to preventing the Ottoman incursion into Europe, but they were still his neighbours, and he wanted to avoid war.

My father was a good ruler, a good warrior and good at politics. He invited the Sultan's emissary to feast at our castle, showered him with the best of everything, hoping that he would return to his master and provide a favourable report. I was only the second son then; my brothers and I were allowed to attend the feast.

The emissary was a greedy man, he took whatever he wanted and insulted my father, it was only when he wanted the attentions of a married woman of the court, that my father insisted that the woman was married, and was therefore not available. Many other women were available, but the emissary took it as an insult, and in front of everyone he cut the poor woman's husband, my father's squire, from neck to navel…his bowels spilling out in the middle of our great hall."

"What did your father do?" Agatha asked, caught up in the story, almost able to picture it all, her heart breaking for the boy he had once been.

"Nothing…he couldn't do anything. Oh, he banished the emissary from his court, but the Turks knew they had the upper hand." Dracula added, his brow furrowed as he was lost in the memories.

"They summoned us a few years later, after my father refused to support their invasion of Transylvanian, as punishment I was taken prisoner…I was only 11 years old and my captors were not kind." Dracula paused, pushing away the distant past and focusing once again on the present.

"What I am trying to say Agatha, is that I understand what it is like to have a parent, who was meant to protect you, fail you. To have someone you trusted and respected let you down, and force burdens on you that no child should ever have to bear."

"My father wasn't a bad man…"

"Neither was mine." Dracula reassured her before Agatha could take offense at his words. "But he was human and he failed me, just as your father failed you. It was not your fault that your mother and brother died, but instead of reassuring you of that, and becoming a better man to compensate for the loss, you had to suffer…What I am trying to say…" Dracula paused studying her face closely. "Is that I understand why you do not want to have children and I can accept it."

"But you want children."

"No, I wanted our children." Dracula corrected her. "It may seem like I am arguing semantics, but I am not. From the moment I met you Agatha Van Helsing, I could not imagine anyone else by my side. Before I wanted children because I thought that was what I wanted. My children were the only ones I cared about when I was human. My father failed me, even my younger brother turned against me. My wife was a means to secure my legacy, I never loved her, but I loved our children."

"But I can't give you children." Agatha repeated, fisting her hands in his sweatshirt, tugging it as if trying to make him see sense.

"Agatha I am not a man given to speaking at length about my feelings. I was not raised that way. I may never be this open with you again, so it is very important you listen now, and believe what I say. I would always choose you. You fill something inside of me, a hole I didn't even know was there. I still want a family but only if they were ours; a dozen children with anyone else, wouldn't make me happier, than spending the rest of eternity with you…just you."

"Oh." And what was there else to say? Dracula had done his best to bear his soul to her, and Agatha was almost rendered mute by the experience.

"Is that all I am going to get?" Dracula teased, yet he couldn't help but feel uncertain; this honest talk was alien to him and Agatha had barely responded to him. Dracula couldn't help but wonder if it was all for nothing.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, Agatha reached up to cup his face, feeling from one touch just how tense he was. Dracula was good at putting on masks, he was wearing one even now, but it was badly cracked, and his real face was showing through. It was so easy to see that 11-year-old boy here. The one who had been left behind to pay for a father's mistakes. The one who had suffered, just as she had suffered. They were kindred in that way. Wanting to be loved so badly, putting their trust in those that had let them down, and being eternally scarred from the experience that they shut their true selves away.

Pushing herself up onto her tip toes, Agatha pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his lips, allowing him to pull her in close and deepen the kiss, although it stayed sweet.

Pulling away Agatha sighed as Dracula leant down to rest their foreheads together. The words falling from her lips as easy as a breath. "I love you."

That was all Dracula needed to hear. To have her love for him confirmed, not just spilling from her lips, as she pushed him away but having her confess it as she pulled him closer.

"Of course, you do what's not to love." Dracula scoffed, earning him a slap to his shoulder. "And just in case it wasn't already obvious, I love you too Agatha Van Helsing."

Agatha couldn't contain her joy, it burst across her face in a wide smile. "You love me?"

"I do believe I just said as much, is your hearing going in your old age?"

"If anyone is old here…" Agatha began, only to have her words stolen by a kiss, a kiss that deepened and quickly turned passionate.

Forcing himself to break their kiss Dracula, breathed heavily through his nose, trying to calm the sudden impulse to throw Agatha down on her bed and claim her for his own. Of course, that would have been far easier, if Agatha would stop…her clever little mouth had latched onto his neck and she was sucking…

"You need to stop that…" Dracula warned her, reaching out to catch her hands, as they slipped under his sweatshirt to stroke his bare back.

"Why?" Agatha demanded, her words muffled against his skin.

"Because you have had a traumatic evening, and I wouldn't want you to regret anything we do."

"Are you accusing me of not knowing my own mind?" Agatha countered, punctuating her reprimand with a bite to his collarbone.

"I am trying to be a gentleman…"

"Well stop. I don't need you to protect me from myself. I need you to treat me like your equal." Agatha snapped, her nails digging into his back. "I know what I want, and I want to relax and enjoy myself with the man I love and who loves me. You need to trust that I won't suddenly change my mind about that."

"It is not you I don't trust…Agatha I want you…and I am prepared to wait until you are ready, but I don't have the control of a saint. If you don't want to have sex, then you need to cool it down."

"And what if I wanted to have sex?" Agatha challenged him right back, leaving Dracula to gape at her in surprise.

"But…but…" Dracula's brain was all but short-circuiting him. It was like having everything he wanted in his grasp and being afraid it was going to be snatched away again. "You don't want children…"

"And I won't be getting pregnant tonight." Agatha tutted, rolling his eyes as Dracula continued to stare at her dumbly. "Will you trust me to know my own cycle?"

"Oh…" Dracula replied, and Agatha laughed as he echoed her earlier ineloquence.

Reaching up she held his face between her hands, staring deeply into his dark eyes, Agatha pressed their bodies together, watching as Dracula seemed to shudder at the contact. His eyes almost falling closed, before opening and locking her with an almost feral gaze.

"I want to hear you say it." Dracula demanded, his breathing heavy as he struggled with control, but for her he would wait, holding back the beast until she gave permission.

Leaning up Agatha pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling him sag into her, and the almost pained whine she aroused from him when she pulled away. Realising she had made them both wait, more than long enough, Agatha smiled and whispered softly.

"Make love to me."

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