Okay so I know I said I'd get the first chapter to this out between Christmas and New Year's, but then I thought it would be fun to post it on the day it takes place, but then weather and yeah. Anyway, all of the chapters to this one are gonna be pretty short, really closer to drabbles than chapters, but they'll be in chronological order and cover the sixty years between Tesla's 'death' and when he reappears in the actual show. I had like, ten chapters of this written and then lost them all, but I actually really like this version of this chapter. Anyway, since these are so short, I should be able to get them done a lot faster, and I'll post as I finish, instead of trying to get ahead or anything. Also I have the first six or so planned, so those'll go pretty fast.
Uh...there will be extreme Druitt-bashing in this fic, 'cause it's from Nikola's perspective and as you can guess he's pretty bitter about the whole Druitt-stole-his-girl-and-then-became-a-serial-killer thing. There will also be extreme Edison bashing for pretty much the same reason. Both of these things will become less prevalent later on, but in these early chapters they'll definitely be a thing.
There will also be some chapters that will reference things from The Servant (whether blatant or not) and in these cases I'll include which chapter of the Servant it's a reference to.
Anyway, before I give too much away or bore you all to death, I'll end the note by simply saying that I only own the idea and Nathalia. Everything else belongs to someone else. I don't own any of it.
January 5, 1943
Nikola sat at his table going through some papers. He was trying to get everything in order for his 'death' in two days. Helen wanted him to have all of his affairs dealt with, despite the fact that he wasn't actually dying, just moving to a remote cave in the mountains of South America. It wasn't like he had much to leave anyone anyway. He wasn't exactly rich, and most of his patents already belonged to someone else. Everything he did own that was small enough to travel with was being brought to the cave with him. That really only left his apartment and a couple bigger inventions that had been sitting in his lab for years.
Someone knocked on his door, and he frowned, turning towards the door before moving to put on the disguise he'd been forced to wear for the past thirty years, so it would appear as though he was aging naturally. He was fairly certain Edison knew about it, but he didn't think the other man knew why he had to wear it.
"Coming," he called as he pulled on the wig, tucking his hair away. At least, once he was in his cave, he wouldn't have to worry about things like this. He checked himself in the mirror to ensure that everything was hidden before answering the door. He blinked at the woman standing in the hallway. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and looked normal but for her silver hair and bronze eyes.
"Hi there. You didn't have to get all dressed up for me," she remarked, grinning. "I know what you are."
She sidled past him, taking in the apartment. Nikola turned, watching her, too bewildered to say anything for the moment.
"This place sure is bleak. I know you're supposed to be dying and possibly crazy, but you could at least make your apartment look less like the pits of Hell."
"Who are you?" Nikola finally managed to splutter out, staring at the strange woman. She turned, bending into an over-dramatic bow, tipping a pretend hat before straightening.
"Nathalia Alkaev, at your service," she informed him. "So you're 'dying' Thursday, yes?"
"How do you know that? How do you know what I am?" The inventor was growing more and more suspicious by the second. No one but the Five and Gregory knew the plan to have Nikola fake his death in two days. For this woman to have found out, she would have had to spy on one of them, or worse. Nathalia smiled, waving away his suspicion.
"I can tell you're a vampire just by smelling you. As for how I know you're about to fake your death, you'd be surprised at how much you hear when people think you're not listening." She walked to the door again, touching her middle finger to her forehead in a strange sort of salute before walking into the hallway. "I'll come find you sometime, Mr. Tesla. I wish you well." With that, she was gone, leaving Nikola standing alone in his apartment, staring after her. He had met strange people in his life, being friends with Helen had made sure of that, but he had never met anyone quite like that.
Oh, also, I forgot to tell you, but Nathalia's last name, "Alkaev", is from the Russian verb "to wish" which fits her for this story.
