A/N: I've decided I like this story :) Adelaide is one of my favourite OC's (and I have a lot of them on my little old laptop) And this story should (hopefully) go well.

Thanks to my...three, reviewers, but three is better than nothing! And they were nice reviews, so all is well!

Disclaimer: I own Adelaide and any other OC's. But nothing to do with Dracula or the vauge Moulin Rouge references!

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Chapter Two- The Show Must Go On

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The world was a blur of darkness and shadows as Van Helsing drove, the black Volvo blending into the night around them.

Adelaide was curled up in the passenger's seat, her head resting against the cool window. Her hand was in her lap, a pile of blood and burnt skin more than anything else really.

"Do you want me to bandage that up for you when we get back?" Van Helsing whispered, breaking the silence.

"No, I'll do it in the morning. I just want to get to bed." Was the soft spoken reply.

There was a pause, and then Van Helsing asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm tired Van Helsing." Adelaide mumbled.

"You've been so distant lately." He turned a sharp corner and gently applied the brakes in order to prevent friction. Didn't want to tear the new tyres up.

"I'm fine, really. It's just my family are beginning to get to me. I'm twenty three, should I really be married by now?"

"Of course you shouldn't!" Van Helsing sped up again as they reached a flat spread of road.

"But I should at least be getting laid, shouldn't I?" The female curled into a ball.

"Since when have you ever wanted to go back to your old life?" Van Helsing frowned.

"I don't want to be a prostitute again; I just want to be able to wake up and not be alone. I mean, you have lines of women, all waiting for you to bed them. Who do I have? No one." Adelaide shook her head sadly.

Van Helsing felt a surge of sympathy for his friend. "You'll find someone soon Adelaide, someone who'll be more than just a lover, someone who'll mean the world to you, and vice-versa."

For once, Adelaide smiled. "It's a nice thought Van Helsing, it's a nice thought."

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, each of them deep in thought.

--

When the jet black Volvo eventually pulled up outside Adelaide's block of flats, the female was nearly falling asleep in her seat.

"Thanks for the lift." She whispered, stumbling out of the car.

"No problem, shall I pick you up at eight?" Van Helsing watched her get out of the car.

"Nah, I'll drive my motorbike." Adelaide yawned and waved, "Buh-bye." With that she stepped into the flat blocks, stumbling towards the stairs.

To anyone who would have seen her then, they probably would have run screaming due to the fact she looked like a zombie with a burnt hand. Not that Adelaide cared; she had more important things on her mind, like sleep.

Mumbling to herself about how tiring stairs were, she opened her apartment door and plodded inside, yawning loudly.

"No-body, I'm home." She whispered flatly, locking the door behind her.

Without bothering to check the rest of the flat, she headed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, asleep as soon as she hit the mattress.

--

Adelaide flexed her long, elegant fingers before her and sighed, "What is it?"

Her employer, Mr Ziddler, frowned at her, "You're leaving us?"

"I have to. I'm sick of being a man's little whore. I want to be more than that," Adelaide turned round, giving her employer full view of her long black dress.

"Addy..."

"Please," The seventeen year old had tears in her eyes. "I've been a stripper, been a whore, since I was thirteen. If I don't break away now, I never will!"

Slowly, Mr Ziddler (or Harry as Adelaide called him) moved forwards and hugged the girl. Tears trickled down her face, the delicate make-up flaking and creasing down her cheeks.

"The show must go on my dear." He told her gently, "Will you ever be free of this?"

"Harry," She sniffed, "You've looked after me since I was thirteen. You're like a father to me, and I'll always love you for that. But I must move on. The show might go on, but I'll be performing elsewhere."

Seeing the determination in the young girl's eyes, Ziddler set about helping her get ready to leave.

--

The sun had not yet risen in the sky when Adelaide woke up, stretching slowly as she did so. The memory of when she had left Mr Ziddler and the brothel filled her with sadness but she brushed it aside as a distinct stench of tea and toast floated into the bedroom. Who was in her flat at such a time?

Slowly, Adelaide slid to her feet and grabbed her Browning with her good hand. She slunk towards the kitchen, poised like a taunt spring.

"Adelaide, put the gun away, it's me!" A jolly, carefree voice called.

She relaxed. It was just Carl.

"How'd you get in here?" She breezed into the kitchen, broken hand hanging limply at her side.

"You gave me a key." The friar laughed, a rare sound in Adelaide's flat. Carl was two years older than Adelaide, but was still only a friar in the Order. Although no-one was certain, everyone was pretty sure Carl intended to stay a friar forever. Gave him some freedom, which he loved. His brown hair just brushed the nape of his neck, flaring out as if he had been wearing a hat for too long. Which he probably had. His green eyes flickered across the room constantly, his hands always fumbling. Carl could not, and would not, sit still. His humble white shirt hung loose across his stick thin figure, the dark trousers he wore only drew attention to his pasty skin.

"Oh yeah," Adelaide blushed, "Okay then, so what are you doing in my flat?"

"I'm here to make you breakfast and bandage that hand of yours!" The friar replied, pouring hot water into the tea pot.

"I can do all those things myself!" Adelaide gave him a playful glare.

"I know, I know. Still, I like to mother you." Carl giggled and handed her a piece of toast.

"God only knows I need someone to." She seated herself at the pine table, munching on the cooked bread.

"God himself would mother you, if only he could." Carl made a small religious gesture as he finished making the tea.

"I think I'd rather have you mother me, Mamma Carl." Smirking softly, Adelaide accepted the cup of tea he offered.

The friar sat down opposite her and sipped his own tea placidly. "I'm coming with you and Van Helsing on your next mission." He told her.

"Oh?"

"Yes, we're going to Romania. Apparently some bother to do with vampires." Carl cringed and gulped his tea.

"What is it with you and Van Helsing about vampires?"

"Bad experiences. While you were still training." Carl nodded hastily.

"Was that when Van Helsing lost Anna?" Adelaide whispered.

Anna was a taboo subject, no matter who you tried to discuss her with. She had been the love of Van Helsing's life, but he had lost her to Dracula. Thankfully, he had killed the monster, so her death was not completely in vain. But it had left a big hole in both Carl and Van Helsing's hearts.

"Yes, and we fear Dracula may be back." Carl mumbled.

Adelaide paled a shade. "The vampire we killed the other night..."

"What about it?" Carl frowned.

She shook her head, "Nothing. It was nothing."

"Sure?" Carl munched his toast.

"Certain." Eager to change the subject, Adelaide glanced outside, "Nice day."

"Yes..." Carl stood up, still munching on his toast, "I'll go fetch some TCP and bandages for that hand of yours." He shuffled out, spraying crumbs everywhere as he did so.

Adelaide slumped down onto the table, burying her head in her arms. Dracula might still be alive? After what that vampire had said...

"Adelaide?" Carl frowned in concern as he plodded back into the room, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" She sat up, "Oh, yes. Just tired." She smiled sweetly at him, making the friar all the more suspicious.

"Adelaide..."

"Carl, are you going to help with my hand or do I have to do it myself?" She snapped, leaping out of the seat.

Carl stared at her nervously, suddenly reminded of how dangerous this woman actually was. A fighter, she had beaten men to death before when they had been too rough with her, or not given her the money they had promised. Her blonde hair, pale skin and baby blue eyes, made her look seemingly innocent; but the depth of her eyes told a different story. Here was a woman that had seen her life crumble around her, and had been left to slowly put the pieces back together. Her figure was desirable, and she flaunted herself in just the right way so a man would take attention. It was no surprise she had been so successful in her past...Career wasn't the right word, but it was the only one Carl could think of at that exact moment in time.

Seeing how Carl was looking at her, Adelaide sighed, "I'm sorry Carl. I've never taken on a powerful vampire before, so I'm nervous about this next mission. I'm worried I'm going to screw up, like I always seem to do."

"You don't screw up!" Carl assured her, shaking himself out of his stupor and placing the bottle of TCP on the table. "Do you have any cotton buds?"

"In the bathroom," Adelaide answered quietly, running a hand through her uncombed hair.

"Right, I'll go get them." Carl plodded out of the room.

The blonde haired female stared at the bottle of medical liquid for a moment, her broken fingers twitching. Before she fully knew what was happening, she was picking up the bottle and pouring the contents onto her hand.

--

Carl rummaged through the bathroom cabinet, humming to himself softly as he did so. Suddenly, a scream erupted from the kitchen, causing Carl to jerk backwards. He tripped on the rug and ended up on the floor, but quickly made a dash to the kitchen. What on earth was going on?

He soon got his answer.

Adelaide was lying on the floor, gasping in agony. The bottle of TCP was broken, presumably she had dropped it at some point. Her broken hand was dripping with fluid, and Carl immediately guessed what had happened.

"Adelaide...Did you just pour the TCP on your hand?"

"What do you think?" She whispered.

"You're losing your mind." Carl mumbled, shaking his head wearily.

Much to his surprise, Adelaide burst into tears. "You're right!"

The friar sank to his knees and hugged the young woman to him, allowing her to bury her head in his chest. Like most men, he was attracted to Adelaide, but he wasn't about to let that ruin their relationship. The friendship they shared was too precious to be broken over a stupid thing like lust.

"I get these urges Carl!" Adelaide sobbed, "They tell me to do things, make me want to hurt myself and those around me. I know I shouldn't do it, but I can't help it! It's almost like they control me!"

Carl hugged her a little tighter, gently moving her into his lap so she wasn't sitting in the shards of broken glass. "It's alright," He soothed, "You're traumatised, the memories haven't left you. That's what makes you do it,"

Adelaide considered this for a moment, "I suppose so," Was her eventual response. It was true, she still dreamt of those dark back alleys, the way the men would touch her. The way they'd be rough, the way they'd sometimes want to tie her down. The way one had thrust a knife into her; although he had later turned out to be a total psychopath. He was one of the worst, but there had been others of course. Most of the men were disgusting, fat and flabby, or completely scrawny. Occasionally there was someone nice, someone who would talk to her as they made their way to the hotel.

"Adelaide?" Carl's voice jerked her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry," She was beginning to feel less dazed now, the fog around her brain clearing. The pain in her hand was worsening, but she could deal with that. At least she knew she was alive.

"Come on, let's get you ready. Maybe you need a Van Helsing hug?" Carl suggested, desperately trying to cheer his friend up.

His lame excuse at a joke made Adelaide giggle, "Maybe you're right. Let's get moving then!"

Slowly, the duo raised themselves off the floor and set about readying themselves for the day ahead.

Neither knew what was going to happen, but both could assume it was going to take a lot of effort to get through the day.

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A/N: Any good? At all? I'm back at school now, but updates should be every weekend...Or something like that!