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It was a comfortable bed, but Agatha couldn't get back to sleep. Her dreams had been unexpectedly disturbed. Perhaps it was all the travelling, or perhaps it was being in this ancient castle and her mind was playing tricks on her. Or perhaps it was because she had gone to bed so early the night before; the bath having relaxed her so much that she had almost drowned for a second time, and would have, if it wasn't for Dracula fishing her out at the last minute.

She had fallen to sleep easily enough, could barely keep her eyes open when Dracula towel dried her and poured her in between the sheets. Agatha had fallen asleep with his arms around her, tucking her safely into the crook of his arms. She had felt safe and protected, and yet her dreams had been full of menace, like eyes, hundreds of eyes were watching them. Agatha shivered at the potent memory of her dream, trying to pass it off as the chill of the hour or so before dawn, when the fire had died down and the sun hadn't yet risen.

Forcing her feet out of the bed, Agatha padded over to tend to the fire, pulling on Dracula's shirt from the day before as she went. Piling log after log back onto the fire, she watched in delight as the flames caught and soon there was a merry little blaze to chase away her gloomy thoughts. Glancing back at the bed Agatha couldn't help but be amused, as a sprawling Dracula quickly filled the space she had left. He had an annoying tendency to do that, Agatha assumed it was because being so tall it was more comfortable to sleep across and along the bed, rather than a simple straight up and down. She could try and burrow her way back in there, but that would wake him up, and Dracula needed his sleep even more than she did. He had just spent the last two days in a packing crate, and Agatha doubted his back had popped out those kinks just yet.

There was also the nagging truth that if she crawled back in that bed now and woke him, Dracula would want to have sex. He loved morning sex, Agatha wasn't blind to that fact, he might have indulged her need for sleep the night before, but he would expect to be indulged in turn this morning and well…she didn't feel in the right frame of mind. Perhaps it was her dream, perhaps it was this business with Gilles de Rais, perhaps it was their upcoming trip to Rome and her presentation, or perhaps it was something far more mundane, in that Agatha had actually enjoyed those two days without sex.

She had been feeling a little off for a week now, and if wasn't impossible Agatha might even think she was coming into season six months early. Her breasts felt tender, and the idea of Dracula pawing at them right now…no it was better she slipped away before he woke up, besides that would give her the chance to do a little exploring all on her own.

Agatha couldn't help her curiosity at finally being in the castle that Jonathon Harker had described to her all those years ago. She wanted to try and find the portraits of Petruvio and his wife, to explore the winding corridors, even find the catacombs and if possible, put any lingering undead there out of their misery. They should have turned to bone by now, but Agatha could take a stake with her and try her best. Rummaging quickly in the log basket she found something that could do in a pinch, if driven in with enough force.

But first she was hungry, Renfield's little prank the night before had robbed her of her appetite, but it had returned in a vengeance now.

Rummaging in their bags Agatha found a clean pair of knickers and some jeans, keeping on Dracula's white shirt, she slung over one of his sweatshirts for good measure. It drowned her but Agatha loved how comfortable it was. Her own wardrobe had been picked to death by Lucy and her team of fashion critics, and Agatha had been aghast as many beloved comfortable items had been thrown away and her wardrobe parred down to only approved items. Agatha knew she had never dressed better in her life, but she was not a fashion plate, and sometimes she just wanted to slob about and be comfortable.

Dressed and booted Agatha slipped her make shift stake into her back pocket and slipped out of the door, careful not to make too much noise. She headed down the staircase, the sudden darkness and coolness of the early hours a shock after the relative warmth and light of their bedroom. The staircase curved around, and Agatha had to remind herself several times that there was nothing here that could harm her, she was the top predator, and could tear apart any threat like matchwood. Still there was enough lingering humanity in her to jump, when she disturbed a nesting colony of bats, who were nestling oblivious in one of the passing archways.

Finally, she reached the great hall, the fire here had all but died and Agatha crossed to it. Again, piling logs on top, more in hope than any real chance of resurrecting the fire. Chore done Agatha searched for the other bag they had brought with them, Dracula had left it on the table last night, and it contained the remaining blood Mycroft had sent over with her. Right now, Agatha was not inclined to drink anything Renfield provided, and yet the damn bag wasn't here. Realising that Dracula could have moved it after she went to bed last night just in case one of the work men stumbled across it, Agatha cursed and began to stomp back up towards the bedroom.

She was halfway up the staircase when she heard it, the creak of a door, and what sounded like footsteps.

"Vlad?" Agatha called out, expected to see a rumpled and annoyed Count stumbling down the staircase demanding where she had gotten to.

Instead there was only mocking silence. Yet Agatha had been so sure. Perhaps it was one of his former victims still shuffling about, having made their way up from the catacombs where he had sealed them? It was possible they had found a secret passageway out and Agatha knew it was better she found them and dealt with them now before the workmen arrived in the morning, the last thing they needed was word of the walking dead getting out. The workers were jumpy enough as it was, just with the legends that surrounded the place.

Following her instincts Agatha ducked off the stairs, navigating the corridors blindly and yet feeling the pull to go this way or that way, knowing that there was something else here besides her and Dracula…not living…certainly not living…

It was little things, the shift in the air, or the disturbance of the dust that gathered in these unused corridors. Yet once these rooms would have been teaming with people, if Agatha closed her eyes, and called up the shades from Dracula's blood, his own long forgotten past, it was all there if you knew how to read it. Out of respect Agatha had resisted prying before, yet now she was here, she couldn't resist a little peak into the past. Digging down deep she concentrated on the blood she had once drunk from him, going back and back, her hand tightening on the castle wall to act as an anchor and beacon to this place.

Opening her eyes it was like she was seeing everything twice, once now as it was, dark and full of dust and neglect, and then as it once had been…torches lit and blazing away with light, fine tapestries on the wall and art, that denoted this had once been a prestigious part of the castle and laughter…children's laughter.

Agatha followed the beckoning call like it was a sirens song, hearing two boys call out in their games, pushing the door in front of her open to reveal what had been a nursery or a school room, and two ghost boys playing at wooden swords instead of attending to their lessons. They looked so like him, same dark shaggy hair, dark eyes glinting with mischief, and tall lanky frames that made them appear older than they were; it almost hurt to look at them.

Agatha was so engrossed in watching them play that she didn't realise she wasn't alone until she reacted instinctively to avoid an attack. She rolled to the side, hand retrieving the stake, whirling around with it far faster and stronger than her attacker, she drove it home, only realising too late that it wasn't one of the stumbling undead but a child…a bloody mouthed rabid vampire child…a child she had just staked.

"No….no…" Agatha caught it as it fell, unable to tell from the emaciated features if it was a boy or a girl, long ratted hair could have been either. "I didn't mean to." She held them gently as they gasped futilely, clawed hand coming up to touch the wood she had driven through their chest.

In final death their features smoothed out, blue eyes searching and staring never to find answers, yet strangely peaceful. Agatha couldn't tear her gaze away from them, kneeling there on the cold stone floor, a dead child in her arms. It was in this state that a panicked Dracula found her a few hours later.

When he had woken and found the bed beside him empty Dracula had been annoyed. He had been having the most delightful dream involving Agatha in a nun's outfit and a confession booth, and had woken up hard and horny, only to find his playmate absent from his bed. Assuming at first, she had just popped out for some reason and would be back soon, Dracula lost himself in the sight of watching the sun rise over the mountains he loved so dearly. He had forgotten how the sunlight came flooding into this room in the morning, pleased that they had left the curtains ajar last night. It was different being here and seeing the sun, more real somehow than all the sunrises and sunsets he had seen elsewhere in the world, and he had been content…until Agatha didn't come back.

Grumbling to himself about headstrong women, Dracula had dressed, complaining then about thieving headstrong women. He had headed down to the main hall, his irritation growing when he found a fire going strong, Renfield serving breakfast and no Agatha. Accepting the offer of a glass from his servant, Dracula decided to wait to punish Renfield for his treatment of Agatha the night before. Instead he settled for glowering at the mortal lawyer, enjoying the way Renfield squirmed, knowing he had upset his master, but not granting him the absolution of punishment.

Wanting to avoid the complications of dealing with mortal workmen this early, Dracula headed back upstairs, certain that he would find his missing love somewhere in his castle, probably lost like so many before her. Breathing in the stale air, Dracula quickly picked up the scent of his beloved, following it like a blood hound, surprised when it turned off a floor below his own.

What on earth had pulled Agatha here?

It was an area filled with poignant memories for Dracula, memories that he preferred locked away, and so he strode quickly along the corridors, not pausing when certain ghosts beckoned him back. He was almost angry with her for trespassing here, even though Dracula knew he had no right to be, he hadn't told her not to go exploring, and he had told her to make herself at home. Yet his anger dissolved when he finally found her.

At first, he thought she was praying, down on her knees bent half over in prayer, then he realised she was cradling something…no someone.

"Agatha…dearest." Dracula prompted her, his concern only growing as Agatha remained unresponsive.

Practically pulling the dead child from her arms, Dracula stared down at it in genuine confusion, this wasn't one of his, he had no memory of this face. It was a puzzle, but one for another time, Agatha was all that mattered now.

Scooping her up into his arms, Dracula carried her back to their room, stripping her of her soiled clothes and running a bath for them both. In this state Dracula didn't trust Agatha to sit in it by herself, nor did he want to be more than an arm's length away from her. He lowered them both into the scalding water, retrieving the sponge Agatha had used last night and the soothing lilac and jasmine body wash she liked so much. Running the sponge over her skin, holding her close, her back to his chest, her face tucked into his neck; Dracula took gentle care of her. Relieved beyond measure when he finally felt tears against his heated skin.

"Shush darling it was an accident."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know you." Dracula retorted with more than a hint of scoff. "You couldn't harm a fly."

"I…I killed a child."

"No, you staked a vampire, that child had been dead a long time." Dracula insisted, pressing kisses to her forehead. "I don't even know how it got here."

"You don't? It's not…"

"One of mine?" Dracula shook his head. "I tended to avoid children, not enough to make a decent meal…oh I occasionally snatched a baby or two…" He began blasé before regretting his tone as Agatha flinched. "But they weren't for me they were for…" Dracula trailed off, his mind suddenly whirling. "It can't be…" He barked, cutting off his own laughter.

"What?" Agatha demanded, finally returning to herself enough to be curious, lifting her head from his chest to gaze up at him. "What?"

"There was a baby, just before left here with Jonny, I gave it to one of my brides and it turned. Honestly, I didn't give it a second thought, I intended to keep it on for a bit, see what happened with it, but then Jonny threw himself off the roof and I went after him. I guess I forgot to clean up after myself."

"You…You forgot!" Agatha couldn't believe what she was hearing, everything she had just gone through was because Dracula didn't care enough about the carnage, he left behind him. "What about your other experiments did you at least put them out of their misery?"

Dracula's guilty expression confirmed her worst fears. Was it any wonder she was having nightmares, there were other vampires here of their bloodline, starving and driven mad from it?

"I will do it, I will do it right now I promise." Dracula was all but fleeing from the tub and that look Agatha was giving him, a look of contempt he had hoped to never see again on her face, at least not focused on him.

"No, we will…I need to see them…I need to see…"

"No, you do not." Dracula insisted firmly and on this he wasn't going to budge. Agatha had already been through one traumatic experience, he wasn't about to compound it by letting her watch him stake two more of her kin. "I will do it I swear it."

"Dra…"

"I will not be moved on this Agatha. This is my mess, not yours." Dracula pulled on his clothes, not caring he was dripping wet, this was something he had to do alone, not something he wanted her there for. "As your Elder, I am commanding you to stay here until I return." Dracula added, layering his voice with an authority that was blood deep and even Agatha couldn't just shrug off.

Unable to bear to look at him Agatha's grip tightened on the rim of the tub, if she had been cross with him before, now she was furious; she was so angry she couldn't even look at him as he left, not that Dracula seemed to notice in his haste to escape. Well he might have been able to use that Elder card to control her once, even now Agatha couldn't so much as attempt to rise from the bath, the compulsion was a strong one. Yet he couldn't compel her to forgive him, nor to forget this had ever happened, in some ways it would almost be easier if he could, that way Agatha could return to that state of blissful ignorance, could pretend that her once clean hands weren't now blood stained.

Agatha Van Helsing was now a killer, that was a fact, but was it a fact she could find a way to live with? The most worrying thought of all, was that yes she could, in fact it would probably be far easier than Agatha had ever assumed it could be.

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