A/N: You would not believe it, but I'm back. Two years! Two years! I'm so sorry.

Life Update: I'm doing my masters and I'm a published author now. Gasp! Only small things and some competition wins (I won't link them cause I like the anonymity) but ya know, I really do love fanfiction and writing about things you love or loved once and it's not for someone other than myself. I've thought about this fic a lot recently and my thesis is killing me a little at the moment (it's not on vampires haa!). So…I've come back. I can't promise regular updates like I could during lockdowns (which were extensive where I'm from) but I can promise drama in this chapter. I feel terrible for leaving it on such a cliff hanger. UGH! Awful behaviour. Either way, I hope that this chapter (in part) makes up for leaving. I have a deep desire to go back and edit but then again…I guess we can see how things have evolved. I can't remember where I planned this to go BUT I've got some ideas now.

But don't trust me.

This chapter is going to be short and snappy, for reasons that will become clear.

Robin stared at the machine. Having snuck down, unable to stop himself, he wanted to get away from the hive of people desperate for the kill. All having lost someone. His mind twisted in masochistic tumbles. Vlad sat prominently there, and he wondered what the vampire had done to him. Snapping him into a maze, using his mind to control him.

It wasn't natural, the way he was; he knew that. His mother would have been aghast at him, horrified. No actual schooling, no prospects other than killing. If it could be called killed, rather than exaggerated exterminating.

The machine stood there – the cage. It was strange to think that the hopes of the slayers, revenge and justice were poured into an object without agency. Something metal and without flesh but alive, if only through belief. There was no revenge in execution, just cold-blooded killing. No passion and no care. Not really. Nothing personal.

Robin wanted…he wasn't sure but the crossbow strapped across his back was heavy and his eyes throbbed. Whatever it was, it wasn't this. He rubbed them, attempting to chase the pain away. Vlad was evil. Vampires had no choice in the matter; it was written into their biology. There was no choice, not for anyone, just reactions born from years passing. He would not have become a slayer if the Dracula family had not introduced him to the concept. He would not have loved vampires if his brothers didn't introduce him to horror films in an attempt to scare him. It was all an entangled web, and he could not change anything, just as caught by his circumstances as much as Vlad. The Draculas would die if he did not warn them. But why would he?

Maybe he wouldn't kill Vlad but that did not mean he would step in the way of an errant stake.

The door creaked and he melded into the shadows. A shock of blonde hair crept in, footsteps barely above a whisper. Robin bit his tongue – Erin.

The moon's silver sickle cut through the cloud bank. Just peeling itself from the horizon. Two bats flew, silent, riding the warm updrafts off the highway. The whispers of the world were a vast blanket beneath them, unknowing.

Vlad's father had come with him easily. The chance to fly and possibly bite some slayers drove him onwards. Always ready for the risk. Vlad wondered how he had survived all these years. It seemed that his father thrived off the willingness of others to fix problems for him. Or perhaps he just wished to see Vlad's violence turned towards others rather than himself.

But Vlad had caved to Erin, despite knowing it could be a trap. It was his father's influence, in a way. Some part of him bayed for the chance to prove his power to these breathers. The rational part of him made his chest feel tight. If they were caught, what would he do to survive? How much of his shadow would arrest his rationality? This need was enfleshed.

The Slayer Headquarters was in the industrial area of Fulwood outside of Preston. That was flush with smog and tightly packed. His wings ached; the flight was a long one and gave him time to think.

He refused.

To contemplate would be a misstep. He feared what he would discover in the corners of his mind. What he would put together. And so, when he landed upon the pavement, bones reshaping and relocating as he took upon his humanoid form, the murmuring and indistinct voices emanating from the Headquarters quashed any querying thoughts.

The building itself was squat and dark, unassuming amongst its brick peers. He could hear the muted conversation bubbling from the inside down the halls and into the crevices of the building. It was teeming with slayers whose heavy footfalls rattled inside his skull. He took his stricken-faced father by the shoulder, squeezing.

"We need to do this," Vlad whispered.

"You trust this breather girl to invite us in, or are we just going to sit here like gawking Strozzis?" his father hissed. Vlad nearly snorted, the Strozzis were his father's least favourite family, nearly immune to garlic due to their Italian heritage but completely useless in most regards. His father grinned. "If not, I can always just hypnotise someone."

"Ah yes, because you're so alluring," Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Ah yes, taking critique from a hapless—"

There was a cough from above as Erin's face appeared, haloed by the moonlight.

"Are you two done?" she asked, smirking.

Vlad nodded his head dumbly.

"Then come on in," she said and the invisible barrier that held them loosened and then dissipated. Vlad felt a jitteriness invade his sense, an edge that hit him as he moved into the breather's sacred space, a place built to eradicate his kind.

The cavernous room was stale and silent, washed with a deep purple light that caused the shadows to jump and waver. The light emanated from a large machine that sat unassumingly against the back wall, wires and metal and meant for them. Vlad scanned the room. There was only one entrance and exit but—

There was a second heartbeat in this room. Dread settled in his stomach. There he stood, next to the door. Crossbow in hand. Pointed at him. Vlad took a subtle step in front of his father, giving him a half-cover.

"Hello," Robin said and cocked the crossbow. "Stop moving now." His face was blank.

His father scoffed, "Branagh! A slayer! In all my long years—"

"Shut up!" Robin ordered. He turned to Erin. "You...look at you. Pathetic. Brought in by these…things!" Her face crumpled at that but she did not reply. The air was thick, and death skittered at the edges of their little group. Someone had to move.

"And you!" Robin turned to Vlad now. Who watched him. His eyes twitched and his hands shook nearly imperceptibly. Vlad wanted to reach out to the boy. "You've come here—" There was a burst of movement, The Count making for the window, Robins's crossbow went off and Vlad could only just manage a yell before the thunk reached his ears.

"Augh!" The Count roared – cloak pierced, holding him to the wall.

"Dad!" Vlad took a step but Robin cocked the crossbow.

"No moving! Not a step!" and Vlad froze. "Look at him, useless excuse for a vampire," Robin sneered, gesturing towards The Count with the end of the crossbow.

Robin stepped further into the room and into the purple light of the machine, bathed in an unearthly glow. He was monstrous, features twisted into a snarl. "Are you surprised, Vlad?"

Vlad shook his head. "No."

"No?! You knew?" The Count yelled. Even Erin looked surprised.

"I wasn't sure I just—"

"Could feel it. Something was wrong with Robin. Something's always wrong with him; he's not normal," Robin spat. "I haven't heard those words in ages."

Vlad's chest ached. "Your parents?"

"Of course, my parents, Vlad. My brothers, my sister, my neighbours. Did you just conveniently forget Ingrid's rampage through Stokely? Which family do you think she would have gone to first? We had no idea and my family they…they all fainted at the sight of her and you're protecting her! All of you!" Robin's eyes turned to Erin. "This little nest of liars and thieves and murderers! She left me alive, so I would suffer!"

"We're not like that!" Vlad defended.

Robin scoffed. "But you want to be. I know, Vlad. Innocence is a neat trick but power…that's a whole 'nother trip. Look at you, how arrogant do you have to be to think you can get into the Slayer's base unimpeded? It's always been the same, weak is just a performance because Vlad always has the plan, Vlad always gets his way in the end and you love it. You can't help yourself. No matter how much you hid it under your guilt and fear, it's what you are!" Robin was breathing hard, face red and Vlad's heart broke, Robin knew, of course he did. "You could kill us all right now, but the kick you get is not the power itself but the control knowing what you could do, by denying yourself."

Vlad sighed. "Robin—"

"Stop me then! Go on! Stop me!" Robin aimed for The Count. Time caught itself, stretching and bending had Vlad's body flooded with adrenaline.

Erin rushed forward, "Robin, no!" Vlad held out his hand, stopping her with his mind and her eyes widened, looking towards him with wet eyes.

Vlad assessed.

"You're right Robin."

The room froze.

"I had thousands of reflections, and they want me to kill you. Kill my father and sister to take over the Dracula Dynasty. I would be worst than Ingrid, than my father. I could kill you if I wanted. I could stop you." His blood burned with the thought, but he took a step towards Robin, who stood – struck dumb. "I've wanted, I am a creature of desire and I can't face that. I could never face it as a child because I am that child. Who loved being alive and breathing and I remember you. Spiteful and funny and brave. You deserve this, to wipe us out. To kill my sister. But why haven't you?"

"Shut up," Robin hissed.

"Why, Robin?" Vlad asked. "You've had the opportunities and even if the Slayer's Guild told you not to. What could they have done? Really? Do you want me to stop you?"

"I'll shoot him," Robin threatened as The Count cowered away from the stake.

Vlad shrugged, "And I'll stop you. You know that. So, what are you trying to achieve here?"

Robin shook, full body shudders. Vlad could hear footsteps in the distance, Mina questioning the noise from the basement. They had minutes.

"He's trying to wipe us out Vladdy!" His father yelled tearing himself from the stake. "Kill him!"

"No, he's not," Vlad whispered. "He wants more than that. He wants to know that I'm evil. So, I can join you because then what he is going to do will be justified. Death is not enough for our family. He wants us to suffer like he has and he wants us to want to suffer but Robin," Robin looked up, being addressed. "How? How do you want us to suffer? Sunlight? The stake is too quick—"

"Vlad, what are you doing?" Erin hissed. "You can't do that to your family."

Robin whispered, "Well, are you?"

Vlad paused. "Evil? I don't know. I know evil better than I have ever known good. But I'm truly sorry for what I have done. I understand why but you've got to understand that—" With a flick he sent a fireball straight towards the UV machine, "I can't let you."

He flitted towards his father and Erin, gathering them into his arms before rushing for the window. The air hissed with light and twang of the crossbow and the scream of his father and the cries of Robin and the shudder of the building and the screams of slayers and the shrill orders of Mina. He ducked behind the wall and light burst from the building and alarms blared to the purple ripples above their heads.

"Take her," he said to his father, putting pressure upon his stomach, Robin's stake protruding from it, black blood trickled from the wound. It wasn't fatal but his father's face was screwed up in pain. He locked eyes with Vlad.

"But—" The Count was caught in his gaze.

"Take Erin back to Garside. Protect her. Leave if you have time," Vlad commanded, feeling the heady pressure of his hypnosis. His father's face went slack but he nodded all the same.

He turned to Erin, "We can't argue."

Erin's face screwed up, "Oh yes, we can! You can't stay here Vlad. They'll kill you."

Vlad shrugged, "I'm not staying. I'm getting Robin. I can't take him back to Garside. Not with Ingrid."

"But Vlad—"

"Erin, we don't have time for this," Vlad hissed as the sounds of shouts grew louder. He took her by the arms and hugged her. "Thank you…I—I wouldn't have gotten this chance without you. I've got a plan just…trust me. Please." Vlad pleaded. Holding his hand, Erin squeezed. Vlad wanted to tear her away from this place, from him and vampires.

"I can protect him and Ingrid," Erin sighed.

"I know you can. I made a mistake with Ingrid…just—just keep safe okay?"

Erin nodded. "You better come back," she said.

"I will."

And they parted.

And the night consumed them.

And Vlad was hungry. It was easier to be hungry.

Woohoo to Vlad making it worse.

Anyway, I always found it weird in the show that they mention that Ingrid massacred a ton of people in Stokely but they never mentioned the Branaghs Whoops! I guess that's…fixed?

Either way. We'll see where this goes!