My first Van Helsing fic, and my first fic in quite a while to be honest. This is alternate-universe, with Anna still living, but really could have taken place during the movie, not necessarily after. This is probably going to be a one-shot fic, but reviews always encourage me to write more, so if you like, please review.
Her breath was exquisite, soft and steady. The pale creme color of her eyelids concealed the gorgeous blend of her deep hazel brown eyes and her eyelashes stemmed outwards in a perfect curl. The slim slope of her nose bent downwards to her full, crimson stained lips, barely opened a crack, a soft whoosh of breath escaping from them in her sleep.
Leaning closer to her, he stretched out a hand to meet her petite shoulder. The worn cloth of her blouse and over vest gave her skin barely any protection from the harsh cold, and he saw the goose bumps trickle up her skin. Lightly trailing his gloved hands up her neck, he swooped his fingers from her jaw to her ears, and felt their cold through his gloves.
Sighing, he took off his large brimmed hat and shook out his mass of hair, allowing a small shiver from the cold to momentarily catch him off guard. Cradling the hat in the palm of his hand, he tenderly placed it a top of her head, hoping not to wake her. The hat was obviously much too large for her head, it reached down to cover her ears and eyes, the tip of her nose barely peeking out beneath it.
Gently adjusting the hat, he couldn't help but smile when seeing her shift lightly in sleep, curling up closer to him, aching sub consciously for warmth. Shaking off his over coat, he wrapped it lightly around her shoulders, and listened to the soft clicking of the buttons against the side of the cave wall.
Running his hands over his eyes, he thought about the events of the past few days. Fear flooded through most people for miles around, few thought much of trust. Some ran to their religious sanctuaries, others burnt their bibles and cursed God to hell. The sights were said to be unbelievable, improbable, surely made up in an insane man's imagination. But no, unfortunately, they were very much real, and he was very much sane.
His memories, all gone. Evaporated into the sky like the last tricklets of water from a shred of glass. Barely realized that it was there till it was no more. His mother, father, all gone. Did he have a wife? Did he have children? Was there someone out there, a sister, a brother, searching for him? Calling his name out into the deserted tundra of ice, crawling through the hot sand of the dessert, praying for a glimpse of his face?
Somehow, he doubted it.
But what he had said to Anna, that was very much true. The thoughts of all of this, it kept him going. It was what made him search, what made not just curl up and never reopen his eyes in the morning sun. It was what made his blood run with that extra furry in it at the sound of innocent deaths, of an orphaned child's cries. It was everything that made him himself; the absence of himself.
The absence of himself, of his former life, was what made him himself, was what made him real.
It wasn't something he had really come to realization about before now, before being here like this. Before having Anna's shivering body bundled up next to his own, the soft breathes escaping from her mouth the only sounds besides the pounds of his aching head. It was a comfort, knowing that another heart was beating, another mind was thinking.
Leaning back against the cave wall, he felt the smooth cold stone behind his head. He thought about that, the comfort of one other soul, one other living thing. He imagined what it would be like, only two living things on this planet. He had sudden images of Adam and Eve, what it would be like, to be one of them, to be able to start over all of humanity. The power they must of felt, knowing that they were the two, and the only two, who could recreate this world of humanity; of doubts and shame and love and lust and power and manipulation and caring and truths and lies...
Did these thoughts make him a holy man? He did not know. He remembered Anna asking him that question, the edge in her voice still sliced into his mind. "Mr. Van Helsing, you have been called both a holy man and a murderer. Which is it?" He couldn't answer her then, and he still couldn't now. He liked to think that what he was doing was right, that it was his golden rimmed ticket into heaven, but then he thought about the others of the world, the pure ones. The non-sinners, the prayers, the ones who go to church three times a day, who adopt tiny kittens and play with their children. Will they get into heaven before he does? Before Anna and her family does? Will the slots all be filled by the time he reaches heaven's gates, will there be no more room in the vast kingdom above this world?
Thinking these thoughts made his blood pump faster, his pulse beat increase. It wasn't the thoughts of him being sent to hell, of him being damned to a life between worlds that he was worried about... It was Anna. What if the works of her family for so many generations were going to a bitter waste? What if the slots were filled... what if they could no longer enter heaven? What if they had waited too long, and it was too late?
Reopening up his eyes, he turned quickly to his right side, looking down upon her sleeping face. She looked like porcelain doll, each of her features perfect and divine in their own light. Her breasts rose and fell with her chest with every soft breath she took, and he watched as her shoulders were in perfect sync with the outtakes of her breaths. She was wonderment, something he found himself able to watch contently for as long as was allowed, with no desire for any distractions.
Watching her eyes flicker in her sleep, he saw her body begin to shift again, watched her grow restless. Twisting her body upwards, she shrugged off the thick material of his over coat and stretched out her slender legs, the snug material of her black pants scrapping across the tiny pebbles and stones that covered the cave floor. Frowning she let out a large yawn and blinked open her eyes, her hands reaching to her face before she turned to look at him.
Seeing the look of utter fear traced across his face, she said quickly, "Is something the matter Mr. Van Helsing? You look petrified, is everything all right?"
Blinking once or twice before responding he nodded quickly and said, "Yes, of course they are. I'm sorry if I disturbed your rest, there is still several hours left until daybreak enters, more sleep would be wise."
Shaking her head she flipped a few strands of deep brown hair behind her ears and sighed. "No, there is no use in return to sleep now Mr. Van Helsing. After dreams are disturbed it is best not to revisit them too soon."
Before he could give it a second thought he blurted out, "What is it that you dream about, Anna?"
Pausing before her response, she let her eyes mingle over his face, search the mirror like reflection of his own eyes for unquestioned answers. "I dream about my family Mr. Van Helsing, about both the past and the future of my family. I dream of being a little girl, with Valcon, with my parents. I dream about entering heaven with them, of not damning my family to hell." She paused again, and lightly flickered a fingertip across her nose. "What is it that you dream about Mr. Van Helsing?"
Taking in a deep breath he shifted his weight to his left side and sighed. "I can not answer that, I'm afraid. I have no things to dream of, and none to speak of. My mind is as empty as this cave was before we invaded it. And sometimes it is best not to invade vast emptiness that has been left untouched for so long."
Shaking her head Anna blinked her eyes and leaned closer to him, searching his face once more. "Mr. Van Helsing, you are lying to me. Everyone dreams about something, even those in heaven dream. Tell me what it is you dream about Mr. Van Helsing, please."
He gave no response and shook his head once more, not able to meet her eyes with his own. Not willing to give up so quickly Anna continued to shoot out her questions at him.
"Is it of triumph, Mr. Van Helsing?" Silence was her response, so she drilled on.
"Is it of past experiences Mr. Van Helsing?" Again, silence droned when her voice finished.
"Is it of your family, Mr. Van Helsing?"
Shaking his head, he gave a half smile and said slowly, "Now that would be the noble thing to say, but I'm afraid I can not abide to that. For not all of my dreams are about my family Anna, not all, but some."
"And the rest?" This time she leaned in even closer, as if afraid the distance between them would cause her to lose a word.
Reaching a finger to her face and giving the tip of her nose a tiny bop, he finally met her eyes with his and said easily, "Why Anna, the rest are of course of you."
Love it, hate it. This was just a simple little fic that had come into mind when I was watching the movie in the theaters last Friday. I obviously do not own Van Helsing or any of the characters, and paraphrased several lines from the movie. Don't sue me, I have no money, so it's just a waste. . Review if you like it, if I get enough reviews I may write something more for this section, if not then, eh I suck at life. Hope you all enjoyed the story.
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