Disclaimer: I still do not own Van Helsing or Dracula, but I do own April and the story. -Linwe

April trudged forward through the snow, with the Count beside her. She noticed that he was shivering almost uncontrollably so a while back she had given him her scarf and hat. Now she was freezing cold, wearing only her long dress and leather boots. At least her feet weren't numb.

They had exited his castle and made their way through his gate and were now headed back to the portal. Weak as she was, April moved forward in a swift pace, eager to escape the icy, cursed realm. The Count followed close behind her, still shivering in the cold.

Stepping through the mirror together, they found themselves in Velarious Manor. Dracula looked around, again, as if remembering something, but he did not even look at her. Instead he spoke, half to himself.

"Ah, Velarious Manor." He said smoothly in his deep-voiced accent, looking around at almost everything. "So familiar, yet so different."

April studied him curiously, remembering the things she had read about him. He had once lived in this very house when he was alive. That is, until he was murdered and then banished by his father. She shivered, at the thought of his horrible past and horrible deeds. Had it been a mistake to bring him back?

She studied him still- no, not a mistake. She could tell he was different from the bloodthirsty vampire she had kissed on the beach. There was something he had lost when he came back to life, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Possibly his air of superiority that she had felt before, or maybe it was the hollowness of his expressions that was gone. He seemed to move now as though he had a purpose, or as though he was trying hard to grasp all the sensations he was feeling. But whatever it was that was gone from him, April could tell that he was no longer the same Count Vladislaus Dracula as she had before encountered. He was no longer the son of the devil, nor was he a bloodsucking fiend of the night. But then what was he?

"Miss, April," He prodded her arm to snap her out of her musings.

"Yes?"

"Mustn't we press on? This is not your house, is it?" He raised an impatient eyebrow.

"No, of course not," she said, embarrassed. "I live down in the village above my bakery." She started moving through the room into the hall that led to the stairs. He followed closely behind, still looking around at the old house.

As they walked she heard him speak to her. "I have a question, Ms. Leolius. Did you or did you not have that flaming colour of hair when last we met?" She smiled in spite of herself and her freezing face.

"I did not. You see, Count, ever since the incident on the cliff, I've had to live under the alias 'Prudence Leolius,' who's supposed to be my cousin. The villagers would burn the whole house down if they knew I was really April. They still seem to think I was some sort of witch." They descended the steps into the main entrance hall and walked toward the large, wooden, front door.

"I see. So if we see anyone in the village, I should address you as this 'Prudence?'"

"Yes. But my house is near the outskirts of the village, we shouldn't run into many people, especially at this hour." She glanced back at him as they walked through the front door. His strangely fiery eyes were ever on the ground and he remained silent and grim. To her, it seemed he was rather overwhelmed and didn't know how to express it. Something in his eyes told her of his discontent and maybe even panic. She thought though, that if she had been a vampire for 400 years and suddenly lived again, powerless, she would feel quite overwhelmed.

But then again, she thought, could she trust him? Had he still the malevolent heart as he had before? So far, she couldn't tell, but he hadn't seemed the least bit evil in the hour or so he had been alive. Perhaps being knocked down a few vampiric notches had made him a bit less secure, and not daring enough to be evil. After all, you needed confidence to express yourself, and perhaps he was still evil, but just waiting until some of his strength was renewed. But what did that mean? He was vulnerable now and al the strength he could gather could never compare to his super powers before!

She shook her head and tossed all the seemingly random thoughts away. She took another look at him and saw only a man wearing only a cloak, hat and scarf. There was no look of malice in his eye, or seductive charm that had lured her to him and almost got her bitten. Was she right to be suspicious? Of course, caution was her only ally at times, and she was always on the lookout for someone who suspected her.

They walked down the steep hill from Velarious Manor that led into the village, but headed east, avoiding the town and moving toward the outskirts. Neither spoke, too haggard and consumed in their own musings. She looked ahead, but didn't really see anything. Her feet walked toward her house, but she didn't really know where she was going, her thoughts were too much in the way of everything else.

"What would I do with him?" She thought, "He can't live with me forever, and I doubt he feels the same way I do about him. Plus, it's not like he's a dog, I can't just take him home. I wonder what he wants to do? Does he have anything? Is there anything left for him in that castle? Why didn't I think this through? Did I make a mistake resurrecting him? What a fool I am!" They came, after many minutes, to her large bakery that she lived above.

He walked up the lawn and surveyed it carefully. He then turned to her.

"Well, are you going to invite me in to get warm by the fire, or just leave me out here to the wolves?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. She started, forgetting her thoughts for the moment. She walked up her walkway past him to her wooden front door. Taking out her key, she opened it and gladly stepped into her warm bakeshop. He followed.

"Well, here we are, Count." She glanced at him. All he seemed to be doing since he was brought back, was look around at everything, as if trying to absorb it somehow. "Make yourself at home." She retreated into her living room and prodded the small embers that were left of her fire, adding some wood until it was roaring with heat. Without looking, she knew the Count had entered the room. "So how do you like my house?" Again, without looking, she could tell he had a surprised look on his face because of his inability to surprise April.

"It is… intriguing, to say the least." He said fiddling with some model sailboats she had hanging on the wall. He looked over at her. "Do you think, perhaps, I could have some clothing?" He said snobbishly.

"Well, maybe, but you'll have to beg."

"Excuse me?" He asked, angrily.

"I'm only jesting, Count. Come with me." She headed toward her large wooden staircase leading up to her living area. The Count followed her, staring at the strange woman that was about to give him clothes. He still wanted to know her reason for bringing him to life. He stepped up the top step into her kitchen, intending to find out all her reasons for giving him life.

To reviewers:

I know, terrible ending, but I have a huge blank in my head right now, and I'm extremely stressed! Any suggestions would be more than welcome. Thanks for reading!

-Linwe Ringeril