Surrender
By Mrs. James Norrington

Pairing: Abraham Van Helsing/Mina Harker
Universe: The German-Language version of Wildhorn's Musical (Specifically, the one presented in Graz, with Uwe Kröger as Dr. Van Helsing. You needn't have seen it, but you do need to know that Van Helsing is presented as a depressed morphine addict. Trust me, I didn't think it would work either. But it did.)


She thinks he is an idiot. He is aware of that much, at least. Insulting, but not particularly troublesome. Much more worrying is the effect she has on him.

He shivers when she passes, his breath quickens when they speak, his lips cannot help but linger ever so slightly too long when he kisses her hand…

It is almost an infection, he reflects—no…a poison, a slow, sweet poison just as potent as morphine, and one from which he is equally powerless to turn away. It will be quite interesting to see which will be the death of him.

What a morbid thought, that he can sit by and observe his own death with such clinical detachment. Yes...morbid, perhaps, but it is an indisputable fact that he doesn't give a damn about his own death as long as he takes the monster with him. And certainly fitting, seeing as it is Dracula's fault that he doesn't give a damn about his own death in the first place.

He would like to say that knowing her has changed him for the better. He would like very much to say that. But he is not such a fool to think that he is still capable of changing for the better, not in the midst of his twenty-year-long suicide. Besides, he has a suspicion that the love—or, more accurately, the blind, irrepressible lust—that he feels for her is not of a particularly redeeming kind.

Sometimes he thinks he sees a flash of something in her eyes when his own catch on them. It is not hatred, or contempt, or any such human emotion, but something indescribable, some thing...exhilarating.

It is in those brief moments when their eyes meet that he considers the possibility of surrender. What would it be to feel her soft hands on his skin, so long grown cold? What would it be to hold her eyes with his for longer than an instant? What would it be to feel her lips...to feel her teeth on his throat?


Disclaimer: I'm gonna be a rebel and put this at the end. No matter how much I wish I owned Uwe Kröger, I...don't. How shocking! :-)