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Chapter Text

Wilbur swatted a dragonfly away from his costume bundle, swinging his feet over the edge of the dock.

“Chick, will you hurry up? I don’t like bugs.”

“Then why do you live in Florida?-” Chick raised his hand- “Never mind that. The sooner I tie up this boat the sooner we can get on land.” Chick was bent over the side of the boat with a rope in his hands, his arms wrapped around the dock’s piling. “Help me here, please,” He demanded.

“I can't.” 

“Why not?” Chick grumbled back. 

“I can't tie a knot,” he replied matter of factly.

“You tie your tie every morning!”

“That is a very different thing!” He wagged his finger, “I'm no good at tying rope.” 

“Eh, you're no good at anything,” he grumbled, and he leaned forward to grab hold of the piling again, fumbling with the rope. 

“You're doing it wrong!” Wilbur reprimanded, taking the rope from Chick’s hands and tying it easily into a tight knot. Chick stood back in the boat, his hands on his hips. 

“What was all that business about not being able to tie rope?”

“I've never tried it before, I guess I'm better than I thought.”

Chick fumed silently, but picked up his things and hopped up onto the dock, patting Wilbur’s shoulder to usher him up. Chick avoided a glance at the post out of fear of what the knot may look like, and took Wilbur by the arm when he slacked behind.

“Keep up, will you please?”

“I haven’t got my land legs yet,” He said shortly.

“Land legs,” Chick repeated, shaking his head. “We’ve only been on the water for twenty minutes.”

“I’m extremely adaptable!”

“Then adapt to the land, why don’t you?” Wilbur didn’t reply, instead stopping in his tracks, and Chick followed his gaze to Sandra, Joan, Dr. Stevens and Dr. Lejos. Chick turned to him, concerned, a hand on his shoulder. He shook him slightly. “What’s wrong now?”

“I can’t do this.”

Wilbur jolted toward the dock.

“Nonsense! You can’t leave, you’ll be standing up Sandra and Joan. Not to mention me!”

“You?”

“Sure, you invited me.”

“You don’t even appeal to me.”

“Oh, nevermind that. What’s got you all excited?”

“That Dr. Lejos character. I told you, he's Dracula.”

“I certainly won’t hear any of this again. Come on.”

“Chick, I wish you wouldn’t- I know too much! He’s going to suck my blood!”

“Oh stop it, he isn’t going to suck anything.”

Chick all but dragged Wilbur to the party, which at their arrival took on a slightly disquieted air. Sandra and Joan stood tense, on opposite sides of the men, and the only really welcoming presence seemed to be the elder doctor, with Stevens staring quietly at Joan.

“Wilbur, Chick.” Dr. Lejos nodded cordially, his eyes catching Wilbur, and the longer Wilbur stared back the less hope of escape he had. Chick was smiling calmly. “I’m very glad you two gentlemen could make it.”

“We’re glad to be here, aren’t we, Wilbur?”

Wilbur nodded.

“I’m glad. I am not one to attend social gatherings where I do not feel welcome, and I would never wish anyone else to, much less my good friends Chick and Wilbur.”

Chick’s eyebrow twitched slightly with unease.

“You’re very kind. If you don’t mind, Wilbur and I have to go dress.”

“Please,” He replied, and he turned, his cape swinging behind him. His eyes crinkled, and followed Wilbur, and the feeling of the doctor’s eyes seemed to linger long after he had been left behind.

“You’ll have to drop this silly business if we’re ever going to have a good time.”

“To you it’s silly business, to me it’s serious!”

“Wilbur, there is no such thing as Dracula. He’s a myth! And so is Frankenstein’s Monster. These are all just stories that have gotten into your head.” 

Chick shrugged off his jacket and flattened his tie, opening his red locker.

“Maybe you’re just jealous!”

“Jealous of what, may I ask?”

Chick turned to face him, a hand on his hip.

“That Sandra and Joan are my dates and you have none.”

Chick fumed, pointing a finger tightly at Wilbur’s chest.

“Your own ungentlemanly behavior is no reason why I shouldn’t believe your ridiculous stories! I don’t believe Dracula exists because I know Dracula doesn’t exist!”

“Oh, but he does,” came a voice from behind them, and Larry Talbot’s sorry face loomed over them. “And he’s dangerous.”

“You’re dangerous,” Chick replied dryly, turning to busy his hands with his costume.

“You’re right. It’ll be a full moon soon.”

“Right, you turn into a wolf,” Chick replied, his voice sick with condescension as he turned back.

Talbot seized him by the lapel and Wilbur yelped, Chick snapping his eyes to lock onto Talbot’s face sternly.

“You need to get serious about this, Chick. If you don’t you could lose your friend, and your life, or perhaps even worse.”

“What could be worse?”

“You could become a vampire yourself!”

His hands loosened, and Chick brushed them away, grimacing.

“You’re crazy.”

“But what if he isn’t?”

Chick whipped around to Wilbur.

“He is!”

“Chick, you have to believe me, if not for him then for yourself. Dracula will kill you!”

“Dracula! Again with Dracula! I’ve had enough of you two lunatics blabbering on about Dracula. He is a legend! He doesn’t exist! He can’t hurt you, and he can much less hurt me.”

Talbot’s large brows sunk down his face, and he glanced at Wilbur who sent him a sympathetic look.

“I see now there’s no use trying to convince you, but try to heed what I’ve said. Keep yourself safe.”

Chick turned to Wilbur, holding out his arms with a desperate gesture.

“You can’t possibly believe that guy.”

“I believe I saw what I saw when I saw it!”

Chick grumbled exasperatedly.

“You’re hopeless.”

Chick swiped his jacket from the locker, and stormed out, leaving Wilbur and Talbot behind, Wilbur clutching their masks with one hand and wringing his sleeve with the other.

Chick’s hand held his glass of punch less than enthusiastically, the liquid moving slightly with every unsettled movement his fingers made. He sipped some of it down, and a shiver rolled over him, his head turning instinctively, until Dr Lejos was in his sights. He chuckled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“That is quite alright.”

“Are you getting cold?”

“I’m always cold.”

Chick furrowed his brow, but kept his smile.

“Why is that?”

Dr Lejos smiled.

“Where is your little friend?”

“Somewhere. I’m not proud to say, I left him alone with a lunatic.”

“Mr Talbot is this ‘lunatic’ I trust?”

“How could you tell?” He replied without the slightest trace of genuine curiosity.

“I have seen true lunacy, Mr Young. Psychosis. Desperation. You have not. Your friend is fine.”

Chick lifted his eyes to the doctor’s somewhat livid face.

“I thought you were a surgeon.”

“I am.”

“What kind?”

“A brain surgeon.”

“Does that overlap with psychology?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“I’m not sure.” Chick sipped his punch. “All Wilbur talks about anymore is Dracula and Frankenstein, it’s ridiculous.”

The Doctor smiled deliberately.

”Your friend has an interesting brain.”

”I’d like to see inside his head, that’s for sure, if there’s anything in it.”

”I feel just awful. Terrible. I’ve been such a nuisance.”

”You haven’t been a nuisance, Wilbur. It’s Chick who needs to see reason. We need to find a way to prove to him that Dracula’s a vampire…”

”You’re right!” Wilbur smiled, “But… Do you know anything about vampires?”

Wilbur furrowed his brow in thought. Talbot his twin image, until he held up a finger in triumph.

”If we could somehow get him in front of a mirror, or near some garlic or something.”

”Yeah! But how are we going to do that? Chick doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

”We’ll figure something out. Come with me.”

Talbot took him by the sleeve and led him out of the locker room and out to the party.

”I’m not so sure he’d like to talk to me,” Chick said, shaking his head and sipping his punch again, Dr Lejos hovering close at hand. “Why don’t you get a drink as well? It’ll do you some good to unwind a little, doc.”

”I never drink. At parties.”

”Do you drive?” 

Chick posed the question with a smile on his face. The only response was a furrow in the doctor’s thick brow.

”Perhaps we could speak more privately. I find the music and the many people distracting.”

”Fine idea. I don’t want to run into Wilbur before I’m ready.” Chick glanced at his glass as nerves bunched in his stomach. “Maybe drinking wasn’t the best idea.”

”I disagree, if it helps you relax, you may be able to communicate with him more candidly.”

”That’s-” He was cut off by a familiar voice.

”Chick!”

It was Wilbur. Of course it was Wilbur, he hadn’t had a break from seeing his face in decades. Chick’s head followed the sound, where he saw Wilbur waving at him frantically from across the party. Talbot was with him, and lowered his hand, holding a hand out to usher him to be quiet, telling him something. Chick furrowed his brow, and squinted his eyes, until he saw a figure in a red costume approach them and remove his mask, say something, and after Wilbur’s enthusiastic pointing across the party, face Chick.

”McDougal!” He hissed. “How about that walk?” Chick said with a nervous chuckle, and he patted Dr Lejos’ arm as he started briskly toward the trees, Lejos following close behind.

”I think you’ve had enough, Mr McDougal. Wilbur’s already served his time in jail; the both of them have.”

”They were bailed out, that’s not enough! Those exhibits could have made me a fortune! Think of the crowds flocking to see Dracula and Frankenstein’s Monster-” he grew especially bitter- “They were authentic, too! They’re worth a lot more than a day and night in jail!”

”Hey buddy I told you! We didn’t touch them!”

”Telling that story again? You little thief!”

”Thief! I’ll have you know sir, I am no thief!”

”No?”

”No!”

”Then how come when you and your friend move my things they evaporate?”

McDougal drew close, but Talbot intercepted, until Wilbur pushed him aside and puffed out his chest.

”Maybe they’re made of water!”

”I’m surprised you even know what evaporate means!”

”Well, a wise guy, eh! If you’re so tough answer me this:”

”Sure.”

”What does evaporate mean?!”

”It’s when something turns into vapor.”

”Vapor?”

”Sure! Hot air!”

”Hot air?”

”Yes!”

”What evaporated inside of you?”

”You little-!”

Talbot held him back as Wilbur yelped, and dove for cover.

Chick and Dracula sat in a shaft of dim, white light over a lawn chair with a small canopy, enough shadow covering the doctor to obscure his eyes. Chick’s empty glass lay in the greenery. 

“This was convenient,” Chick said awkwardly, his hands on his knees. He was, evidently, quieter with drink in his system.

”You’re unsettled.”

”I left him again. I keep doing that.”

”Your friend? He is safe with Mr Talbot.”

The doctor smiled, and patted his shoulder. It did nothing to soothe him, instead, twisting Chick’s face with guilt.

”All I ever do is play that kid for a sucker. He doesn’t deserve it.”

”I’m sure you’re too hard on yourself, Mr Young.”

”Call me Chick, please.”

”Alright, Chick.”

Chick’s face grew deeper into sadness, and he bowed his head with a quiet sob.

”Wilbur calls me that,” He said, before taking out his handkerchief and blowing a loud sneeze.

”Oh, that’s no good,” Wilbur said, as Talbot sat McDougal down with his fourth glass of punch.

”What? What’s wrong?”

”Chick made off with Dracula. I can’t leave him alone with him like that, Dracula might suck his blood before we even get a chance to win him over! I can’t have that!”

”Not at all, he’s your best friend.”

”Yeah. Plus he pays half the rent.”

”Right-” Talbot shook his head. “Wilbur, focus.”

”Right, right. Where are we gonna get a mirror?”

Talbot scanned the crowd for ideas, to no end.

”Maybe the locker room sinks?”

”That’s a tight space to get the both of them into… we need somewhere we can move around a lot, y’know?”

”Couldn’t have said it better myself… something mobile… How about a compact?”

”Compact? I just said we need space to move.”

”You misunderstand me- not ‘compact,’ a compact. We need to ask a lady to borrow one. Where are Sandra and Joan?”

”Beats me. All three of my dates left me on my own.”

”Three? You had three dates? Who?”

”Sandra and Joan, buddy, you just said! Keep up.”

”That’s two, who’s the third?”

”Chick,” he gave him a disappointed look, “Really, Mr. Talbot, I thought you’d know that! I arrived with the guy for goodness sake.”

Larry furrowed his brow before turning to the crowd and scanning again, catching a wealthy looking woman in his sights, and trotting toward her.

”Excuse me, ma’am, may I borrow your compact?”

”Why? Are you going to use it for something?” The wealthy woman replied with a smile, and she turned around to catch sight of Talbot's sweating, tired face. “On second thought, you oughta keep it, hon.”

”Thank you,” he replied, smiling and taking it eagerly back to Wilbur, who also arrived at their spot holding a similar object.

”D’you get one too?”

”I thought I was getting it.”

”Well, now we have two. Better than one. If we lose one we can use the other.”

”Smart idea! I don’t know what Chick is always on about, calling you stupid.”

”He never calls me stupid! That’s just rude.”

”What does he call you?”

”Well, today he called me brainless.”

”That’s the same thing.”

”I beg to differ,” Wilbur replied studiously, “‘Stupid’ has no love behind it at all.”

“Have you ever had a really good friend? A real bosom buddy? The kind of pal you could stay with all your life?”

”Yes, I know what you mean.”

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

”Wilbur is my partner. My second half. I owe so much to him, and what does he get back? A few smacks in the face and some name-calling. I’m no better than any bully.”

”You’re much too hard on yourself,” Dr Lejos consoled him, resting a white, cold hand on Chick’s shoulder.

”I’m too hard on him. Much too hard. All the kid wants is my approval, and what do I give him? Nothing but complaining. I should turn over a new leaf. Really change for the better.”

”That takes a lot of effort.”

”…Well, that’s what the new year is for. It can wait till then…”

”You’re very noble.”

Lejos’ Facade was waning slightly, the scent of blood so close to him, and so concentrated in the man’s face from the alcohol, the restraint necessary for a clean kill was enormous. The satisfaction of his death after so much anticipation drove him to restraint. 

“Thank you. I don’t deserve it. First I left him alone in that dark house of horrors when he was afraid, then I left him alone when he- tumbled down the steps at your place-” Lejos feigned ignorance again. The memory of Wilbur’s terrified face in the cellar of his mansion tugged at the corner of his lips. “Are you listening?”

”Yes.”

“Good. Then I left him alone with that Talbot fellow, and then I did it again, but with McDougal as well! I can’t seem to do anything but put myself first.”

”I’m sure if he were with us he would tell a different story,” Lejos replied in his softest voice. Behind his shadowed eyes were bloodlust and boredom battling for dominance.

“I hope he’s alright. What if something happened to him? I could never forgive myself!” Before Lejos could say another word, Chick was wrapped around his neck, sobbing comedically loud into his lapel. The doctor stiffened at the agonizingly enticing smell of his blood, almost against his skin. Chick’s pulse against his neck. “You’re a good pal, Doctor.”

He only patted his back in reply. Slowly.

Chapter Text

Wilbur and Talbot stood at the edge of the clearing, the party behind them, and the woods before them.

”I really shoulda thought about this first.”

”We have to act fast. The moon will be rising soon, and there’s no telling how long Dracula will wait to have his meal.”

”I wish Chick was right, and this whole Dracula business was just in my head-“ He paused, turning to Talbot- “What happens to me if we’re hiding out together and you turn into a wolf?”

”There’s no telling. I won’t be able to recognize you when I’m in that form.”

”That’s lovely news,” He croaked out in reply.

Without another word, they crept into the trees, and began to follow what they could of the chosen path. The vegetation was dense, and the trees were tall, blocking what pale light the sky might have offered, and leaving them marching through a mess of shrubbery under shards of illumination. Wilbur’s imagination ran wild with glimpses of movement at every corner, and soon enough he had lost sight, sound, and feel of Talbot. He shivered incredibly, his steps slow and timid. He made wrong turn after wrong turn, until his sense of direction had disintegrated completely, and he lost any idea he had at all of the shape of his path. He wandered afraid in the dark, listening to the crickets, and an occasional distant dog or wolf, the quiet symphony of the forest growing loud enough to make his ears ache. God, he hoped it wasn’t a wolf. After what his mind had convinced him was half an hour, but may have easily been a few moments,  he caught sight of a clearing in the trees that allowed a pillar of light to fall on a loveseat in the bushes. On it he saw two men embracing, with frighteningly familiar features. “Chick!” He whispered, but Chick didn’t open his eyes. He was crying into Dracula’s shoulder, his face buried there. Wilbur grew slowly closer, his mind reluctant to approach, his legs deciding for him. Dracula’s pallid hand wrapped around the back of Chick’s head and tilted it away from him, bearing his neck, and Wilbur snapped open the compact and cried, “Chick!”

In a single, terrifying moment, Chick’s eyes opened to see the reflection in the compact, his own body wrapped around nothing. He watched as a searing pain pierced his neck, and two red marks appeared in the reflection, and a pair of red ropes of blood fell from them. He gasped, fear suffocating him, his hands clutching the back of Dr Lejos’- Dracula’s suit, pulling him away desperately, to no avail. In another moment, Wilbur was charging toward him, but with a dark flash of fur and fabric, Dracula was torn off him, and he was flown to the ground. When he opened his eyes, Wilbur was there, and bliss rolled over him so completely that he could scarcely trust it. The amorous amounts of comfort replaced his eyelids with lead, and soon they were closed, and his mind still.

“Oh, wow, this is bad. This is probably the worst rescue mission ever… missioned.” Wilbur pulled Chick up by his shoulders and propped his upper body on his lap, holding a hand tight against the holes in his neck. “Geez, I really hope he didn’t hit any major stuff, but I’m not so sure,” Wilbur fretted mostly to himself, but also to Chick, with the faint hope that he was still conscious. “Come on…” He pleaded, smacking him lightly on the face. He chuckled, hitting him a little harder. “Hey, this is fun.” Chick groaned, and he pulled his free hand away, a guilty look on his face. “You’re right,” He said, and he paused, pressing his lips into a tight line in thought, before reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out his handkerchief, and placing it flush against the wound, replacing his hand there tightly. He then moved to Chick’s tie, slipping it looser quickly with a finger and breathing a little easier when the conflict between the Wolfman and Dracula made its chaotic way away from them both. He tightened the tie around his neck and underneath his collar, fastening the fabric to the wound somewhat effectively. “Don’t worry, buddy, I gotcha,” he reassured unconscious Chick, and before long he was lifting him like a macabre bride and making a break for anywhere that fed him light.

“So, Dr Stevens. How have you been enjoying your work? With Dr Lejos?”

“I’m satisfied, but I’d hardly bore an interesting lady like yourself with that sort of talk at a party.”

Joan smiled.

“You read my mind.”

The band was playing a slow, romantic melody, and the dancefloor moved in a lazy haze of fondness that was helped along by the punch and the warm air. 

“What would you like to talk about?”

”How about nothing at all?”

Stevens smiled softly down at Joan, and she closed her eyes, and at the moment Stevens leaned down, there was the loud crash of instruments and folding chairs hitting the ground, and a scream, and the music and dancing stopped. 

“What happened?”

”How should I know?”

Stevens caught the ring of a familiar voice in his ear, and split through the crowd that seemed to swarm the band.

”It’s Wilbur!”

”Come on, somebody help me!” 

Wilbur fell to his knees, Chick’s limp body tugging at his burning arms. He held his friend in his lap again, one hand holding his neck, the handkerchief that it had been attached to now showing mostly red against his increasingly pale skin. A pang of guilt hit him, but not long enough to slow him down. Dr Stevens pushed through the crowd, and a band member or two, the clarinetist kneeling and watching with concern. 

“What happened? Tell me what happened,” Stevens said, in a voice far too effective at bringing him to tears with its sweetness. 

“What does that matter?! His neck is bleeding, get him help now or so help me or I’ll-” He shook his fist, straining for the word- “so help me!”

”You’re right.” Doctor Stevens kneeled, and picked up Chick’s wrist to feel a pulse, holding the back of his other hand to his forehead. After a moment he glanced up at Wilbur who was watching him closely, his brown eyes unmoving. “I have to see the wound.” Wilbur moved quickly to remove what he had placed over it, and the bleeding had subsided noticeably, but hadn’t stopped. They were two small, messy, shallow puncture wounds, side by side, close to an inch and a half apart. “Good god, did an animal do this?”

”I’d say he’s an animal!”

”What do you mean?”

”That Dr Lejos bit him! I saw it with my own eyes!”

”Bit him?” He furrowed his brow, adjusting the skin of Chick’s neck from far enough away from the wound that the skin there moved but his hands didn’t touch any of the bloodied flesh. “Whatever he was trying to do, he didn’t achieve very much. The lack of bleeding leads me to believe he missed any large vein. Hand me a clean cloth of some kind.” A watching bystander offered her handkerchief, it had what Stevens assumed were her initials embroidered on it, and was a clean white color. Stevens gave her a grateful look, and she gave him a knowing, long nod. He pressed the cloth to the wound firmly, feeling the muscle around the wound to situate himself. “He may have missed a vein altogether.”

”So he’ll live?”

”He’ll be fine, but I need to get him somewhere safe, and someone needs to find Doctor Lejos.”

”Ooh, let me get my hands on him! I’ll wring his pasty neck!”

”That’ll do no good. You don’t want more trouble for yourself,” He said, and he moved Wilbur’s hand to hold the cloth to Chick’s neck. “And you should be here when Chick wakes up. The blood loss doesn’t look to me like the cause of the fainting, so he could open his eyes any moment now, and I’m sure he’d like to see you. Don’t move him in the meantime.”

Stevens moved to instruct a few men hovering near him, but Wilbur’s voice pulled him back.

”Stevens!”

”Yes, Wilbur?”

”Catch him. Get him good,” He demanded, a determined look on his face, and Stevens’ chest filled with the sensation of anticipation, and need. A need to satisfy, and a need for justice. He turned.

”You, Bassist-” He indicated a strongly built fellow with tight curly hair and dark skin- “And you-“ He indicated a small, but strong looking pale man in a server’s uniform- “Choose three others and come with me.”

And he left, the men following suit. The crowd stayed still and quiet, excepting the uncertain whispers that produced a dull background to Wilbur’s thoughts. His eyes were planted on his friend, who before long was beginning to stir, and as soon as he saw his eyes move beneath his eyelids, he called out for water, several people in the crowd gasping, and as Chick’s eyes opened they cheered.

”Wilbur?! Wilbur?”

His voice was a particularly heart wrenching kind of helpless, and he blinked rapidly as his eyes focused, raising his head, and wincing at the pain in his neck, his hand jolting up to feel where the pain was and stopping when it made contact with Wilbur’s own, warm one.

”Yeah, Chick, It’s me.” 

”Thank God. Am I alright?”

”Yeah, you’re alright.”

Chick’s head laid back down on Wilbur’s knee.

”You know you were right.”

”I know.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile widely.

”Then you know I’m sorry.”

”I know that too. Even if you didn’t say it I’d know.”

Chick smiled.

”You know me too well.”

”You can say that again, no man needs to know his best friend’s size underwear.”

Chick furrowed his brow and gave Wilbur’s chest a back-handed pat in scolding. 

“Wilbur, there are ladies present.”

”Right-” He turned to the crowd- “Don’t listen-” he turned back to Chick- “Can you get up on your own?”

”I think so. Let me try.”

Chick slung his arms around Wilbur’s shoulders and tugged himself up, breathing deeply once he had made his way there, a cough tickling at the back of his throat, and finally coming, and Wilbur put a hand on his back.

”Don’t overexert yourself, buddy.”

”Who’s overexerting?!” He replied with a knit brow and a grumpy frown, and Wilbur smiled.

”You’re perfectly yourself, Chick.”

”I ought to be. I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.”

”Not even the president of the United States or something fancy like that?”

”Who’s to say I can’t be president myself?”

”Well, show me you can get up by yourself and then maybe we can move on to ‘president.’”

There was a pair of eyes beneath the bushes. With long lashes the color of charcoal and blue irises set against pale, leathery skin. There was the mimic of heavy breathing, a chest moving up and down, but the air near the nostrils still as the dead. Survival instincts had taken over, and it crouched, bleeding, in the thicket. There was the footfall of several, and densely packed, and far beyond them the cry of a wolf. A smile cut through the shadow, and it fell slowly into the shadows, a heavy, grey mist beginning to roll through the dirt. The air was polluted with the smell of sulfur.

Chick was swallowing the last of a burningly ice cold glass of water, a bandage fastened to his neck and Wilbur staying close, fidgeting anxiously. Chick set the glass down and breathed in deep, a calm look on his face. He noticed Wilbur.

”What’s eating you?”

”The fact that you were almost eaten,” He replied with a pout.

”Oh, don’t get silly-” He brushed him off with a wave of his hand, then stopped, his eyes going wide- “Wilbur-”

”What?”

”Wilbur!-” He grabbed him by his lapel- “We sent Dr Steven’s to catch Dracula!”

”Yeah!” He smiled. “Wasn’t that nice of him?”

”Wilbur, Stevens doesn’t know anything about vampires!”

“Well that’s okay, I-” He froze- “Oh no!”

”’Oh no’ is right! We’ve sent him to his death!”

Chick steeled himself promptly and grabbed Wilbur by the sleeve, rushing toward the locker room.

”Oh, What are we gonna do? I practically killed that guy! I’ll have his life on my conscience!” He said with increasing melodrama.

”Cut it out. We need to face him ourselves.”

”Ooooh no! I’m not fighting Dracula! You can’t make me!”

He planted his feet, and Chick was pulled back suddenly from his pace, still clinging to Wilbur’s arm. 

“Wilbur, stop whining! He’ll definitely be dead if we don’t help him! And then what? You knew he was in trouble and you did nothing,” he put his hands on his hips, “What would your mother say!?”

”Oh, don’t pull that card, Chick, your disapproval is enough,” He replied, and he began running for the locker room, Chick following soon after. “Why the locker room?”

”We’ll need supplies to fight him off, stakes and crosses and things.”

Chick gestured vaguely with his hands as he spoke.

”But nothing in there is ours.”

”We’ll borrow it.”

”I don’t think anyone’s gonna want a bloody stake back.”

”Would you rather Dracula killed them?”

”Hey, that’s a good point!”

“I know.” They reached the door, and the locker room lights had been shut off, the only illumination coming from the back, where a small lamp lit the row of sinks. They both stopped. “Go on, Wilbur, what are you waiting for?”

”My legs to move.”

”You have to move them.”

”No thanks.”

Stevens dashed through the trees, down the worn path on the forest floor, with the five men at his heels. 

“What does the doctor look like?”

”He’s tall-” He stopped to catch his breath by a tree, and turned to the bassist, Nicolas, he had told him his name was- “Pale, black hair, blue eyes. He’s in a suit and cape.”

”Sounds like Dracula,” Bobby joked, the short man he had picked out from the crowd, and laughed. The remark left a bad taste in Stevens’ mouth. There was a retch from one of the three men behind them, and one of them groaned.

”What died over here?” One said with his hand over his face, and Stevens grew unsettled.

”We’ve been resting long enough. We need to find the doctor and bring him to justice.”

He put his legs to use, and the crowd of men followed after, and whatever smell had been following them depleted. 

“Bring that light over here,” Chick said, waving a hand, his other in a purse. He pulled something out as Wilbur brought the lamp over, and in Chick’s hand was a silver cross. “Perfect,” He said, and he patted Wilbur on the back, slipping the cross into Wilbur’s pocket.

”Now all we need is a stake.”

”I’ve got an idea for that,” He said, standing, and Wilbur grabbed the wooden hammer that he had lifted from someone’s abandoned carpenter costume and jogged to Chick who had already crossed the threshold of the locker room.

”What do you mean? Where are we supposed to get a stake?”

”Wilbur, go through the food and get us some garlic. I’ll be back with a stake.”

”But Chick-”

”Don’t you worry your little head about it! Go get the garlic,” Chick ordered, taking the hammer from him and putting it in his pocket.

Wilbur blew out the lamp and watched Chick walk off for a moment with a frustrated line for lips, then turned for the food. 

“Garlic… Garlic…” He repeated to himself, hovering over the buffet, “Doesn’t anybody eat garlic anymore?! Of all the places to not have garlic.” He tutted, and shook his head, moving across the table quickly, catching sight of some cloves of garlic on a dish near the end, and a man approaching them with a hungry look on his face and a plate in his hand. He leapt for the garlic, and the man jolted away as Wilbur’s body crashed to the floor, his hands full of garlic.

”’You a fan of garlic?” The man said, scoffing and reaching across the dish that had been de-cloved, and taking a turkey leg.

”Yeah,” Wilbur said smally. He regained his footing as the man walked away, and he smiled at the sight of a lovely looking slab of meat on the table, a hungry twinkle in his eye.

Chapter Text

Chick’s head felt light for a moment, but he shook it off, climbing onto the boat and searching its bed for the oar frantically. 

“We should have never come. I told him not to,” he mumbled to himself. “That kid has gotten me into enough trouble as it is.”

He caught sight of the familiar and relieving shaft of wood, and seized it quickly, grabbing hold of the rope that tied the boat to the dock. He pulled, and the rope slacked, and he reached his foot onto the dock and climbed up, oar in hand. He rushed down the dock, and fear created something in the corner of his eye catching light and he sped further toward land. When he felt the softness of grass and soil under his weight he smiled, and scanned the ground for a large enough rock. He caught sight of a stone that had an edge curving over its face and quickly closed the distance, pressing his mouth into a focused line as he placed the edge of the oar’s handle, its aristocratic head, over the stone, and brought the blade of the guillotine down upon it, the motion of his foot following the decapitated, splintered edge of the oar to the ground. It split surprisingly well, and with an impressively effective looking splinter on its edge. He tossed the oar near the dock and picked up the stake, picking a piece of wood from its edge, his face growing grave. He had to do it now, and he couldn’t make Wilbur do it for him.

”Chick! Look!”

”Did you find it?”

”Plenty! And look here, I got the steak too!”

Wilbur brandished the slab of meat, a proud smile on his face. 

”Wilbur, I said stake, not steak! What would a steak do to Dracula?!”

”I dunno, you’re the expert, but I didn’t even eat it on the way over! I was going to, but this stuff’s too rare.”

”Enough chatting. Do you have the cross?”

”Sure do, Where do you want me to put it?”

”Give it to me.”

”Yes sir!” He paused, his hands full of garlic and steak, “Uh, Chick, you’ll have to get it yourself.”

”Why?”

”My hands are full!” He whined.

”Oh, enough talking! We need to move! They might have reached Dracula by now!”

”You’re right! We gotta go save them!”

Wilbur didn’t move, and Chick started for the trees, before feeling a lack of presence at his side and pausing to look back. 

“Wilbur?”

”Coming!” He replied pleasantly, and unmoving.

”Oh, get over here!”

”Alright!” He braced himself, and his legs sped into motion, and soon they were under the veil of shadow from the trees and dodging all kinds of fallen tree branches and rocks, and Wilbur took great care to follow the figure of Chick in the dark, their fast movement loud enough to make him known and easy to follow, and enough to make Wilbur viciously nervous. At every sliver of light there were eyes on him, and every dark movement of leaves was a black cape. At the pace they were going, it wasn’t long before they reached the clearing, but the lack of any figure in the moonlight besides themselves left them worn out and unsuccessful. Chick slumped into the seat, itching at the edge of his bandage. “You shouldn’t itch, Chick, you’ll make it worse.”

”I’m not touching the wound,” He grumbled, but his hand lowered. “What else do we know about Dracula? Something that could help us find him.”

”Don’t ask me Chick, I couldn’t tell you. All the stuff I know is from McDougal’s exhibit.”

”That’s not much…” The two were interrupted by a sound from the trees, and the air around them dropped a few degrees from fear alone. “Maybe we ought to have this discussion on foot.” He stood and approached Wilbur, who was still holding the garlic and steak in his hands, and slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out the cross.

”What’s gonna keep me safe if you have the cross?!”

”You have the garlic.”

”You have the stake! You could kill the guy! All I can do is make his breath smell!”

Chick started at a careful pace into the rest of the wood, Wilbur following close behind. 

“That’ll give you time to run away while he’s brushing his teeth,” Chick replied absently, his eyes scanning every sign of movement around him.

”Well, that’s alright then,” Wilbur hissed, close behind Chick. They weren’t burning through the woods this time, a step a second. They were calculated, and hesitant, but consistent, slowly making their way deeper. Deeper. A rancid smell found its way to their noses, and their faces curled with disgust. “I think the steak’s gone bad,” Wilbur remarked, before his nose was smashed against Chick’s back, and Chick’s against something else. Chick let out an embarrassingly startled yelp, raising the cross and the stake and watching as the figure in front of him turned around, and Stevens’ face greeted him.

”Chick! Wilbur! What are you doing here?”

”Stevens! Dr Lejos is Dracula!” Said Wilbur as soon as words could leave his mouth.

”He’s right, He’s the one who bit me!”

”I know that- that he bit you I mean, but Dracula?”

”Don’t you trust us?”

”Sure, but-”

”Stevens, you gotta help us kill him.”

”Kill?! I’m not-”

”Wilbur’s right! Now that we know he’s Dracula, it’s our responsibility.” 

“Boys, I can’t help you kill anyone.”

”Why not!?” Wilbur cried.

”Yeah, he tried to kill me!”

”I didn’t sign up to be killing anyone. I just want to hand him over to the police.”

Chick paused, then patted Wilbur on the chest with the back of his hand, and smiled at him, flashing a wink and turning back to Stevens with a graver expression.

”Fine. We’ll play nice. But at least find something to defend yourselves with, he’s stronger than you think.”

He said the last part to the group, who had been staring at them uneasily through the mist that had formed at their feet, and had begun to compile around them.

”Like what?” Said Nicolas, who had with him a large branch.

“Eh… you’re probably fine.”

”Does anyone else smell that? Or is my nose deceiving me?” Wilbur asked, scrunching his nose unpleasantly.

”Be quiet, will you?”

”No, really! It smells like something died.”

Chick furrowed his brow and turned to Wilbur, prepared to give him a piece of his mind, but as he breathed in, a stench burned his nose hair like he had never smelled in all his life, and he turned back around, concern painted over his face.

”Like something died-”He considered his environment, and the men in front of him, and his heart sank as the fog swirled upward in a single spot, as if all the vapor were being drawn together by a magnet. A man-shaped magnet. His breath quickened and fear stirred in his chest. “He’s here!”

”Who?” Stevens asked.

”Dracula!” He replied, and before a moment could pass there was a corpse-like arm around the neck of the man farthest away from Wilbur, and he screamed, his hands jolting to hold the arm as Dracula threw him out of his way. Chick’s body could only grow colder as Dracula marched in a straight line toward his unfinished meal. 

“Stop right there, Lejos. I knew there was something wrong about you, but I never suspected you’d be so eager for violence.”

Stevens had placed himself between Dracula and Chick.

”Move.”

”No. You’ve done enough for tonight, and to earn you plenty of time in jail.”

”Move,” He repeated, his eyes flashing with anger, and wide as they drilled his will into Stevens’ skull, and Stevens moved away. Dracula took another step toward Chick, and a thick tree branch cracked against his shoulder. It didn’t move him in the slightest. Instead, what moved him was anger, and he twirled around, locking eyes with Nicolas, who soon after was lying in a heap on the ground. He looked to Bobby, and the other man present, and the both of them ran as soon as their legs were able to carry them. He turned back.

”Chick Young.”

”Don’t come any closer!”

He was shaking, his grip on his cross unreliable at best as he flashed it in front of him.

”I will do what I like.”

He crept closer.

”I have a stake!”

”So do I!” added Wilbur.

”You are in no state to use it,” He replied, and Chick believed him. The count drew closer still, and lunged, and suddenly, as Chick ducked and Wilbur panicked, there was a fistful of garlic flung in his face, and he recoiled, tumbling backward. His claw scraped soggy cloves and oil from his face, and a gut wrenching howl could be heard nearby, but not from the vampire. Wilbur wheezed with fear.

”That sounds familiar, Chick! I think it’s Talbot.”

”Nevermind him, we’ll deal with him later.” Chick wrapped the cross around his neck and brought out the wooden hammer, leaping right for the count, and as his face approached the black fabric of his cape, it disappeared and his face landed on the bark of a tree. He drew back and hissed, shaking his head, and falling backward into Dracula’s arms, that wound tightly around his torso from under his arms. “Wilbur!”

”Chick!”

”You know I don’t want your friend, Wilbur,” he began in a low, steady voice.

”I do?”

”You do. If you give yourself up, I’ll let your friend go free.”

”Don’t listen to him Wilbur! He’s lying to you!”

”I’m not. I was only using him to get to you, Wilbur. You’re what I want. Your brain. Give it to me, and I’ll let your friend go.”

”Chick… I can’t just let him take you. You’re my best friend!”

”No, Wilbur I’m not! I’ve never done anything but fool you! And I steal your socks! And every Monday when you go out to say hi to the neighbor’s dog, I drink from the milk carton like you always tell me not to! And I hit you all the time! I’m a terrible friend, I don’t deserve your sacrifice, let him take me!”

”Oh, Chick-” His face was sad- “You drink from the carton?”

”Come here,” Dracula demanded.

”Chick, I have to.”

”No you don’t!”

”Dracula?”

”What?”

”Just give me one last chance to say goodbye?”

”…Fine.”

Wilbur walked over, a sulk weighing down his feet and his face, and Chick’s breathing grew uneven, his eyes growing wet, his chest burning with guilt.

”Let him go so I can hug him properly?”

Dracula removed his arms, noticing that Chick still held the stake in his hands. He let him go nonetheless, doubting that in his state it would be very effective. Besides, if the great Abraham Van Helsing failed to kill him, what could Chick Young do? Wilbur wrapped his arms tight around Chick’s waist and held him close, and Chick began to sob, holding Wilbur’s head as well as he could to his chest. Wilbur moved his head back, craning his neck to the side to glance at Dracula, then moving it back behind the cover of Chick’s shoulders to look up at Chick’s sorry face and wink. He mouthed ‘stake’ and Chick furrowed his brow. Something changed in his eyes- a realization. He swung around and plunged the stake into Dracula’s chest, adrenaline pumping hard through him. He slammed the head of the hammer on the uneven edge of the stake and its neck snapped as it slid off the curved surface. Dracula staggered back, his body rigid, a pale hand moving to brace himself against a tree, a breathless gasp leaving his pale lips. Chick turned around to Wilbur and smiled, jogging toward him in time to miss a slash from Dracula’s claw. Wilbur whistled, and tossed the steak into Dracula’s hands, which jolted there as he saw the slab of meat fly toward him.

”Sic ‘im, boy!” Wilbur said, and out of the trees bounded Talbot’s wolf body, racing after the smell of meat, and invigorated by the offensive sight of Dracula. They were a violent pile on the ground before long, and Wilbur and Chick wasted no time shaking Stevens awake.

”Get up and get out of here!” Chick hissed in an urgent whisper. Stevens opened his eyes, and Chick was off him, running toward Nicolas, where Wilbur knelt already.

”What’s-” His eyes caught the toil through the trees, Dracula sinking his teeth into the wolf man’s shoulder, and the wolf man releasing a blood curdling cry- “Nevermind.”

He jolted to his feet in time to follow Chick, Wilbur, and Nicolas. He grabbed Chick’s shoulder as a thought reached him.

”The others?”

”Only one,” Chick said, pointing to a crumpled body, a red stained rock for its pillow.

”Dead?”

”Afraid so.”

Then there was nothing to keep him where he was, and as soon as the words were said, they were off, the haunting sounds of an unearthly brawl burning in their ears. 

Chapter Text

The pink light of dawn was silhouetting them when they returned to where the party had been. No one was left but the band, and a few stragglers, who at the sight of the party, swarmed them with sympathy and concern. Chick grabbed Wilbur by the elbow and pulled him away from the crowd, smiling sadly.

”I’m glad you didn’t sacrifice yourself, Wilbur, I could have never gone on knowing you thought so highly of me when I haven’t been a very good friend to you all this time.”

”I almost did. And you are a good friend, Chick. Why do you think I keep you around?” He smiled, and grabbed a champagne glass from the table, holding it up.

”To pay the rent?”

He grabbed a twin champagne glass, and clinked it with Wilbur’s.

”Cheers.”

”Cheers.”

Chick took a swig from the glass and set it down, waiting for Wilbur to replace his, before he patted him on the arm.

”Your quick thinking saved us, Wilbur. You might have a brain after all.”

”I thank you kindly,” He said ridiculously, with a bow.

”Although…” Wilbur’s face dropped- “It is you who got us into this whole mess. And I was the one who got bitten!”

”I think someone needs a nap.”

”Why I-!” 

Wilbur found a familiar face coming through the trees.

”Talbot!”

”Talbot?!” Chick turned around. “Talbot!”

“What happened?”

“You look horrible,” Wilbur offered helpfully.

“You fought Dracula. Practically cut him to ribbons.”

“If I know him, he’ll be back.”

“A comforting thought. For now I think we should all take a rest.”

“Agreed. We ought to get you to the hospital, Chick, just to be safe.”

Talbot was walking toward them, his legs evidently uneasy from the strain. The only wounds he had were a slash on his forearm and a bite on his trapezius. 

“I think you could use some attention too, Talbot.”

“Call me Larry, please.”

“Whatever your name is, you should lie down,” Wilbur said, and went to grab water from the drink table as Talbot laid himself down on a nearby chaise. 

“You should be proud of yourself, Larry. You saved our skins.”

“I can’t be proud. I didn’t even know I was doing it. And no one should be proud of being a monster.”

Chick’s face fell with solemnity, and he sat down on the end of the sofa.

“You may turn into a wolf every full moon but you’re no monster.” 

“How poetic of you, Chick.”

“I’m not wrong. It’s not every man who’s got your lot in life.”

“If it were we wouldn’t be here for long.”

“Now who’s poetic.”

Wilbur returned with the water, and handed it to Talbot, stopping when he saw his face. 

“Oh, are those tears, Mr Talbot?”

His voice, even though it always contained some element of performance, suddenly hit him. Wilbur was genuinely surprised to see him cry, and he was. Crying.

“No,” he replied, wiping his tears.

“Certainly not. Leave him alone, Wilbur.”

“I was only looking out for the guy,” he replied, turning to Chick and indicating Larry with a flat hand.

“Oh, hush up and leave him be. We need to get ourselves off this island.”

“I'll come with you,” Talbot said, and he took a swig from his water and stood, and the three of them started for the boat.

“Now look at this mess. I haven't got the slightest idea where I left that oar.”

“Here it is.” 

“Thank you,” Chick said, and he nodded in the direction of the voice. “Eh-” his head whipped around to Wilbur on his other side, and he saw Talbot was beside him- “Who was that?”

“Me of course,” came the voice again, and he whipped his head around again. When he found nothing there, he turned around slowly again and frowned at Wilbur. 

“What are you now, a ventriloquist? What's the idea, pulling tricks after the night we’ve had?”

“I'm not pulling any tricks, Chick, I promise!” 

He crossed his heart and held up his hand.

“Sure,” he said, and he nodded toward the boat. “Pile in.”

Wilbur obeyed, and Talbot followed, and before long they were all three in the small boat, with little room to spare. Wilbur and Chick’s backs were facing each other.

“Chick, move a little. Your back’s making my back itch.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort, I'm not touching you at all. You must be feeling things.”

“Just like you've been hearing things,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” He snapped.

“Just like you’ve been wearing rings.”

“Oh, talk sense-” Chick glanced at his hand- “I only have the one.”

“Chick, we've known each other too long for you to expect something that makes sense to come outta my mouth.”

“You can say that again,” he grumbled.

“Chick, we’ve known each other too-”

“Oh, shuddap!” 

“But Chick, you just said I-”

“It's an expression!”

“Expression?”

“Yes! Now be quiet.” 

“Expression! How would I know you're making an expression if I can't see your face?”

Talbot stifled a laugh.

“If your head were any emptier I could use it for an ashtray.”

“Oh don't do that, Chick.”

“Why not?”

“You’d miss me too much.”

Talbot snickered, but sat mostly still.

“At least Larry appreciates your antics.”

“Antics! My aunt’s name is Violet! And why should I give a darn what Larry thinks of my aunt?”

“You're ridiculous.” 

“My name is Wilbur! Come on, you know that one! What kind of a family has a man named Ridiculous with an Aunt named Tics?”

“Maybe if I shut my mouth you’ll keep quiet,” Chick grumbled.

“Now what’s this silly business? Don't you know that if you shut your mouth mine can still open?”

“That's all it ever does!”

“Well, Wilbur, I won’t need a transfusion after all,” Chick said, relieved, and flopping onto the chair in the corner of their apartment. “I’m as healthy as an ox.”

His eyes closed, and he linked his hands over his stomach.

“You look tired.”

“I am. After everything you put me through this week, I’m glad to sit in this chair forever.”

“You and me both, brudda. I think all that fear made me sick. I’ve been sniffling all day.”

There was a sniffle, and Chick opened his eyes.

“You really must be sick, that doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“I know! And I don’t even feel stuffy.”

The sniff came again, and Chick watched Wilbur’s face as it didn’t move.

“Wilbur, your face didn’t move at all, you’re not sniffling!”

“Then who is? I’ve been hearing it all day.”

Another stiff, from a different part of the room, and Chick’s eyebrows shot down with concentration.

“Who was that?”

“Terribly sorry, I’ll grab a tissue,” could be heard from a similar location, and Wilbur and Chick watched as the impressions of feet traveled over the carpet and a tissue was plucked from its box by nothing. An exchange of glances was enough debate before Chick and Wilbur were speeding out the door of their apartment at breakneck speed.