"The greatest monsters are often the ones who wear a smile..."

Laughter and screaming filled the night air along with the sounds of crackling flames. The village was alight with the towering inferno that sat pride-of-place in its centre. Shadows flickered and danced while the villagers revelled in their joy.

And the screaming continued.

She watched from the safety of darkness beneath the raised floor of a nearby wooden home. Wide eyes danced in the firelight reflecting colours like pearlescent gems. Wrapped in a thick coat against the winter chill, sweat beaded her forehead despite that the flames were meters away. Its heat was so intense the small girl was sure it was as if Hell itself had opened its maw. And it certainly felt like those that stood watching the blaze, cheering and jeering, were demons walking the Earth. It was all that could explain the sight before her.

And the screaming continued.

Tears had long since dried up, scorched from her face as she silently stared into the horror. Someone stumbled into the house above her calling for a drink to celebrate. This would be the end, the man cried, they wouldn't have to worry anymore about those in the mountains. He didn't know about her hiding like a mouse beneath the floor.

And the screaming continued, broken by hacking coughs, drowning in the flames.

She hadn't meant for this to happen. She'd only wanted to check on her grandmother. Why had they followed her? Why had the villagers found them? Why was she still here, watching?! Vomit rose from her twisting gut as the smell of burning meat began to reach her beneath the wooden floorboards. She needed to leave, to get away from this village, but she couldn't move. Like something was holding her in place and demanding that she watch until the end. The screams were finally quietening, pained croaks and gasping sobs that echoed within her head. A hand suddenly appeared in front of her blocking her vision before it grasped her arm, yanking her from beneath her safety. Dragging her into that hellish light and heat.

Adrianna woke with a start, sweat dampening her forehead and the light sleeping gown she wore clung to her. For a moment she swore she could feel that fire once again searing her skin, or perhaps that was from another memory? Shaking herself from sleep, she slipped from her simple bed covered only in a light blanket. Even during the colder months Rome was warm and though, after fifteen years, she should be used to it, her foreign blood preferred a much colder temperature.

Sweeping a robe around her, she slipped from her room, bare of much personality or belongings. Even the small communal room between the other bedroom where he son likely slept soundly, was fairly bare. It was what life in the Vatican demanded where personal belongings were seen as distracting baggage. Or at least that was what the head nun often told her but in truth she had nothing to decorate the walls and shelves even if she had wanted to. Stalking out into the cooler stone hallway lined with small wooden doors, Adrianna wondered if she should perhaps go and knock on one of them but she quickly dashed away such thoughts. It would be improper for one and for another she doubted he would be there.

Her wandering didn't take her far to the small gardens located beside the nun's quarters. Moonlight washed over the quaint garden rife with flowers and foliage from various parts of the world; gifts from holy patrons likely wishing to bargain their way into heaven. The sky above was clear allowing the twinkling stars above to show, little glittering embers amongst the great darkness.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Jumping at the voice, Adrianna turned quickly though she'd recognise that voice anywhere. Van Helsing stood by a stone archway that led into the garden, leaning against its edge looking like he certainly hadn't been sleeping. He still wore his long leather trench coat and flattering hunter outfit, various elements of leather, thick cotton and canvas. The only thing he was missing was his weapons and large hat he often wore. Instead it let the moonlight dance across his rugged, unshaven face framed by dark curling locks. Feeling her cheeks warm, Adrianna cleared her throat and pulled her robe around her a little tighter.

"More like sleep won't let me stay," she offered with a small smile.

His nod said he understood. How often had she found him away at odd hours, chased awake by nightmares that tormented him most days. Perhaps it was one of the reasons why she had grown close to him over the years?

Boots softly crunched across the gravel as Van Helsing slowly sauntered over to her until he was beside her, shoulders almost touching.

"The same nightmare?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in the night.

"One of many," Adrianna offered in a similar whisper, "and yourself?"

"One of very many."

She almost chuckled at that despite the small voice that told her it wasn't appropriate. He had once told her some of his nightmares and they were truly things no one should have to see, let alone dream. Their nightmares were not laughing matters and yet it made them somewhat bearable being able to add some amusement to them.

"Are you here for a while?" she finally asked after a moment of companionable silence, glancing up at the taller man for a moment, "Adrian would enjoy your company. I fear he is finally out-growing me."

The Hunter chuckled, dark eyes alight with warmth, "nonsense. He spends most of his time talking of you while we're training," that made her smile, "but yes, I'll be here for a few days at least. I would enjoy spending time with both of you."

Warmth blossomed in her chest at those words. Leaning lightly against his shoulder in a small gesture of care, Adrianna drew back down the hallway towards her rooms.

"Thank you Gabriel. As always it seems I have much to thank you for still."

"You owe me nothing Adrianna."

She could feel his gaze on her back but she continued walking without looking back. As much as she enjoyed being close to him, a man she owed her and her son's life to, she couldn't face those heated eyes or questioning looks. Her heart still bore too heavy a scar.

-Fifteen years ago-

Van Helsing wasn't sure why he had woken that night. Most of the time it was due to the terrors that plagued him. Unanswered gaps in his memories, nightmarish battles and wars where men slaughtered each other around him. But this time it was nothing but stillness that greeted him. The night was still heavy with dawn several hours away, but the Hunter had found himself walking the halls of the Vatican like he often did when he woke suddenly. At this time they were silent and empty but for the occasional Vatican guard patrolling but he knew their routine enough to avoid them.

Something was tugging at him, a sensation in his chest that drew him like a rope through the cool stone halls, a whisper pulling her through the night. Before he knew it he found himself by a set of elegantly carved doors out of the Vatican. A holy door inscribed with scripture and holy carvings that had stood the test of time so far. They required some effort on his part to open but as he pushed the whisper grew louder, caressing his mind with the feeling of haste. And yet as he stared out into the huge courtyard that separated them from the rest of the city, he found the world silent and still.

A breeze softly tussled his hair carrying the smallest sounds to his acute hearing. Frowning and wondering if he was imagining things still, he turned to look to the right which had been blocked from his sight by one of the pillars. It was then the wind softened for a moment leaving the night silent as the whisper returned again. The whimpering of a young child.

There propped against the pillar of the Vatican was a large bundle of clothing, bigger than a mere child. On closer inspection it appeared to be a threadbare cloak of some sort and a worn one judging by the dirt and tears. A thin, pale arm was just visible, curled around a smaller bundle which was producing the whimpering. At hearing the doors open the large bundle turned a little and Van Helsing felt himself freeze for a moment. Large bright grey eyes, almost silver in the moonlight, stared up at him with such overwhelming sorrow, fear and hope that he felt his usual barriers fall away completely. The eyes belonged to a pale woman whose face was gaunt from starvation, weary from exhaustion and he didn't need to see the rest of her body to know that the effects of little food were echoed over her body. Wisps of raven hair fell from the hood of her cloak, dirty and matted, barley covering a large angry red patch of mottled skin across a cheek. Somehow he knew this woman had been beautiful at some point and now she had been beaten down to a withered husk of herself. Cracked lips parted slowly uttering just one word and it was all he needed to hear.

"…please…"

He ignored the strange accent to her voice, he ignored the fact that she smelt like she had been sleeping amongst the filth of animals. Hell he ignored the fact that the Cardinals would throw a fit at him bringing a woman into the Vatican. Van Helsing swept down on the woman and the babe in her arms, pulling her and her burden into his arms. God, he would always remember how light she felt, like a feather that would fly off at the slightest breath of wind, and how frail she felt in his arms. She made no further sound nor any movement against him, merely sagged as if the world's heaviest burden had been lifted from her shoulders.