The stars hung like diamonds against the velvet darkness, more numerous and brilliant than any night sky Lucien had ever seen.
Their light reflected off the still water of the pond surrounding his small island, creating the illusion that he sat suspended in space, cradled between two cosmic oceans.
On his lap rested two heads - one with flowing golden hair that seemed to capture starlight, the other with rich brown locks that matched his own.
Lucien's fingers moved through their hair, feeling the peace around him. He's been seated like this for a while now.
Resting. Soul, body and mind.
"Do you think Grandpa will be okay?" Elara asked, her five-year-old form shifting slightly as she gazed up at her father with luminous eyes that shifted between blue and gold.
Lucien sighed, considering his response carefully. "I hope so, Ela. The spear... it took a lot from him."
Malek, his form now that of a five-year-old boy with features that mirrored Lucien's own - a son any father would recognize as his blood - frowned thoughtfully. "The weapon is hungry. It devours life."
"Yes," Lucien agreed, continuing to stroke their hair. "It's contained now, but what it took can't be given back by it."
The three fell silent, contemplating the ripples in the pond as a gentle breeze passed over them.
The dream-world responded to their emotions, stars pulsing slightly brighter when their thoughts darkened, as if offering comfort.
Suddenly, Elara sat up, her golden hair cascading around her small shoulders as she turned to face Lucien with wide, curious eyes.
"Why didn't you do the thing?" she asked, her head tilting to one side.
Lucien's brow furrowed. "What thing?"
"You know," she insisted, her hands gesturing expressively, fingers splaying outward in an explosive motion. "The thing! The new thing that makes everything go BOOM!"
Lucien's mouth formed a perfect "O" of realization. "Oh, that thing."
Malek sat up as well, his blue eyes - so like Lucien's own - narrowing slightly. "Yes, that thing. You've been practicing it for weeks. Why didn't you use your new technique from the beginning?"
His voice carried a child's directness, unfiltered by adult courtesy. "You could have destroyed the entire castle and the knight with it."
Lucien ran a hand through his hair, momentarily missing the weight of their heads on his thighs. "I couldn't risk it, Malek. The explosion could have destroyed the entire town with it. And since I couldn't be sure if more enemies would drop from the castle like the knight did, I needed to conserve my strength."
Malek crossed his arms, looking remarkably like a miniature version of Dean when skeptical. "You still fell unconscious - like always." His small mouth quirked into a smirk. "It's becoming a bad habit, Dad."
"Is that so?" Lucien's eyes narrowed playfully as he reached out, gently pinching Malek's cheeks between his fingers. "Sounds like someone needs punishment for talking back to his father."
"Ouch! Stooop!" Malek protested, though there was laughter beneath his complaint as he tried to swat away Lucien's hands.
Lucien persisted, careful not to actually hurt his son but continuing the playful discipline. "Not until you learn some respect for your poor, exhausted father."
Just as Malek's protests grew louder, Elara launched herself forward, small teeth nipping at Lucien's hand in defense of her brother.
"Ouch!" Lucien released Malek immediately, shaking his hand with exaggerated pain. "Et tu, Ela?"
Both children giggled, their laughter like music across the still waters. Lucien couldn't maintain his mock offense for long.
He lunged forward, gathering both children into his arms and pulling them against his chest in a tight embrace.
"Come here, you little monsters," he laughed, rubbing his chin against their heads and peppering their foreheads and cheeks with kisses.
"Dad! It tickles!" Elara squealed, squirming in his grasp but making no real effort to escape.
Malek's laughter joined hers, the sound pure in a way that made Lucien's heart ache with love.
He liked being affectionate with them. He was treated the same way by his parents in his first life.
Kids should always know their parents love them. Actions - like raising and taking care of them - speak louder than words, but these small ones and words never hurt.
Too soon, the dream began to fade, the stars dimming as reality pulled at Lucien's consciousness.
"I have to go," he murmured, pressing one final kiss to each of their foreheads. "Be good to each other while I'm gone."
"We will," they promised in unison, their forms already becoming translucent as the dream dissolved.
"I love you both," Lucien whispered as light claimed him.
----------------------------
Pain greeted Lucien as the world returned - a dull, throbbing ache that permeated every muscle and joint.
He blinked slowly, his vision gradually focusing on an unfamiliar water-stained ceiling. The scratchy motel sheets beneath him confirmed he wasn't in Bobby's house.
Turning his head - even that small movement sending spikes of discomfort through his neck - he saw his Dad lying unconscious on another bed.
The sight made Lucien's breath catch. John looked decades older than before the battle, his face deeply lined, hair almost completely gray. The Dark Spear had taken its toll.
"Lucien? You're awake." Sam's voice came from his other side, relief evident in his tone.
Lucien shifted his gaze to find his older brother seated beside his bed, dark circles under his eyes suggesting much tiredness and not having slept in some time.
"Dean, he's awake," Sam called over his shoulder.
Two figures by the window turned at Sam's words - Dean and a man Lucien didn't recognize. Both approached the bed as Lucien struggled to sit up, his muscles protesting violently.
"Easy," Sam cautioned, helping him into a sitting position and adjusting pillows behind his back.
Dean handed him a glass of water, which Lucien accepted gratefully, his hands trembling slightly as he raised it to his lips.
"How long?" Lucien asked, his voice raspy from disuse.
"Almost ten hours," Dean answered, perching on the edge of the bed. "Shorter than ever, stamina's getting better, but you still had us worried there, Lu."
The stranger hung back slightly, studying Lucien with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.
He was tall, with dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail and a face that spoke of hard years and harder battles.
A chain whip was coiled at his hip - an unusual weapon choice that immediately caught Lucien's attention.
Noticing Lucien's gaze, the man stepped forward. "Trevor Belmont," he introduced himself, his accent carrying hints of Eastern Europe beneath acquired American tones. "Last of the Belmont bloodline."
Lucien nearly choked on his water. 'Belmont?'
His mind raced, connecting dots from first life knowledge.
The castle, the knight in armor, the chain whip... it all suddenly made terrible sense.
'Dracula's Castle. That was Dracula's fucking Castle...'
If- if Dracula himself had come down instead... Had come instead of sending his knight, they would have been all royally fucked...
Dead, nailed, and impaled like his most of his victims...
The only reason they were alive was probably because the sun had been rising, forcing the castle to disappear.
"Lucien? You still with us?" Dean's voice broke through his thoughts, fingers snapping in front of his face.
"Yeah," Lucien managed, forcing himself back to the present. "Just... processing."
"That's understandable," Trevor said - internally deciding that its time to talk about things, now that the important one is up. "Not many face Sir Lycan and live to tell about it."
"Sir Lycan?" Sam echoed.
Trevor nodded. "The Midnight Knight. Dracula's hound. He's an ancient werewolf bound to Dracula's service centuries ago."
"Wait, back up," Dean interrupted, raising his hands. "Dracula? As in, Bela Lugosi, 'I vant to suck your blood' Dracula?"
"The real Dracula makes the Hollywood version look like a kitten," Trevor replied grimly. "He's ancient, powerful, and now apparently interested in your family."
Lucien's eyes darted to John's unconscious form. "The Spear - is it secure?"
Sam nodded. "We added extra chains and wards to the box. It's not getting out anytime soon."
"Good," Lucien exhaled. "That thing... it was feeding on Dad's life force. We gotta keep it as far away from him as possible."
"That explains his appearance," Sam said quietly, glancing at their father. "The doctors say physically he's aged at least fifteen years overnight. They can't explain it."
"We told them it was a rare genetic condition," Dean added. "They didn't buy it, but they patched him up anyway."
Trevor leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "The question now is what to do next. When night falls, the castle will likely return. And this time, Dracula might not send a servant to do his work."
"Why is he after us?" Sam asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "We've never even met him or anything related to him before. At least, nothing with a clear connection."
Trevor's gaze shifted to Lucien, "My guess? Your brother's blood." though unseen by everyone, but Lucien, for a single moment, he glanced at Dean too.
"My blood?" Lucien repeated, though internally he wasn't surprised.
His Force-infused blood would be extraordinarily valuable to any supernatural being who even had remotely good senses - let alone bloody Dracula.
"Dracula was severely wounded centuries ago in a battle with another powerful being - an Original vampire named Klaus," Trevor explained. "He's been dormant, recovering his strength. But to fully restore himself, he needs powerful blood."
'Wait, Dracula and Klaus fought? And Klaus won? How strong is Klaus? How much like Castlevania Dracula is this Dracula? Trevor is clearly not the same guy, modern times and all that. But Dracula - game and show version - is no slouch... Yeah, I need that white oak soon...'
Dean's protective instincts flared visibly. "Well, he's not getting Lucien's blood."
"Agreed," Trevor said, "but that doesn't solve our immediate problem. Dracula's castle exists partially outside normal space and time. It can appear anywhere he wills it, which means nowhere is truly safe."
"So what do we do?" Sam asked. "We can't just keep running forever."
Trevor began pacing, his boots making soft thuds against the carpet. "No, but we can buy time. I say we head to Mystic Falls."
The name sent a jolt through Lucien. 'Finally! An excuse to go there, and to that beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful bridge! Bridge made of complete white fucking oak!' he thought internally excited - for a moment every other worry cast aside.
He's been wanting to go there for years! Years!
"Mystic Falls?" Dean repeated. "What's special about it?"
"It's a supernatural nexus point," Trevor explained. "More importantly, Klaus's presence lingers there strongly."
"The same Klaus who wounded Dracula?" Sam clarified.
Trevor nodded. "Exactly. Dracula fears few things, but Klaus is one of them. In his weakened state, he's unlikely to venture anywhere with Klaus's energy signature."
"So we hide in plain sight," Dean mused. "Use Klaus's presence to mask Lucien's."
"I'm in," Lucien said quickly, perhaps too quickly, but no one seemed to notice his eagerness.
Dean pushed away from the wall, frustration still evident in his movements. "This is all good in theory, but we can't hide forever. How do we actually deal with Dracula when the time comes?"
Trevor's expression hardened. "My family has been hunting Dracula for millennia. Trust me when I say this isn't something you rush into unprepared."
"Your family has been hunting him that long and he's still around?" Dean challenged. "Not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"Dean," Sam warned, shooting his brother a look.
Trevor didn't rise to the bait. "One step at a time. First, we get to safety. Then we plan our next move."
"What about Dad? We can't move anytime soon with him like this." Lucien asked, looking at John's still form.
"We know Luci. We'll move him once he's stable enough to travel," Sam said. "The doctors say that should be tomorrow, barring complications."
Trevor gathered his coat from the back of a chair. "I'll be in room 14 if you need me. I suggest you all get some rest while you can. Tomorrow will be a long day."
As he reached the door, he paused, looking back at them. "The Midnight Knight was just a taste of what Dracula can do. Remember that."
With those ominous words, he left, the door closing softly behind him.
Dean immediately turned to his brothers. "You guys trust him?"
"Not entirely," Sam admitted, "but his knowledge seems legitimate. And he did help save Lucien and Dad."
Lucien remained silent, still planning, and taking everything in.
"Lu? What are you thinking?" Dean asked, noticing his silence.
"I'm thinking we don't have many options," Lucien replied carefully. "If Belmont is right about Dracula wanting my blood, we need all the help we can get."
Sam returned to John's bedside, checking his pulse. "Dad's stable for now. We should all try to rest."
Dean nodded reluctantly. "I'll take first watch. You two sleep."
Lucien didn't argue, still exhausted. As he settled back against the pillows, his gaze drifted to the window where twilight was deepening into night.
'Well, my luck's still shitty. So no surprises there. Still though, I hope Mystic Falls treats me better than other places.' Lucien thought to himself.
'Like, for the love of God have that White Oak Bridge.. actually exist in this world too... Like come on! Give me something! Please...' His thoughts became sluggish as sleep once more took, into a dreamless rest.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
So, we're finally going to Mystic Falls. Hope you guys are excited about that.
Also - Lucien's technique. I have actually thought of it before writing the fight with Sir Lycan, and was contemplating if he should use it in it or not, but found it not logical with how I want it.
Hope you guys are excited for it though - tell me what you think it is.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)