I'm worried about not being accepted by my dead family if I come back to life. It's not natural to us. And it feels wrong to shake the hand of a devil I can't see, someone who'd hold my soul hostage unless I do something for him.
[He loosens his hold so she can turn, staring at Sypha with both love and exhaustion (the closest thing he really has to fear these days)]
He doesn't feel right. And if I feel that way, my family definitely would. I'm already facing permanent estrangement by making friends with Dracula. If I come back to life, it'll be spitting in the face of every ancestor who had the choice and instead chose to die.
[She is angry, but it's controlled, a simmer behind her eyes that she's keeping well back. Her hand is gentle, curving around the back of his neck.]
If you'd be damned or cut out for coming back to life, after giving yourself to save the world, Trevor, then it isn't the Admiral holding you hostage, is it?
[Sypha is good; she knows he won't jerk away with her hand on his neck, but he doesn't look happy about it]
It would be like being a vampire. It isn't, not exactly, but it would be seen that way. Saving the world was just a bonus: dead is dead.
And it's not only me. You and our kid would be just as rejected. Any descendants we have couldn't be reasonably called Belmonts if their grandfather was a massive fucking hypocrite.
And there are certain weapons and wards that might not work if there are no longer 'legitimate' descendants.
You don't know how your family would stand on this, this is conjecture. Unless you haven't told me that you found the diary of an outcast great uncle who went through this.
I know that it's unprecedented, and there's probably a good reason for it. And that I'm not willing to risk our family's eternal damnation and estrangement on me getting to spend a few more years with you and Simon.
I'd rather go to my grave like I was supposed to, than unnaturally extend my life with the help of a necromancer, and summon up my dead family, who hunted unnatural phenomenon, in order to ask them permission to fully estrange us all from them forever.
[He wonders how they got to talking about this when he came here to comfort Sypha. Maybe it all ties together into this original argument]
No, that's what will happen. You don't bring back a family of monster hunters. No matter the reason.
[He reaches for her hand to pull it gently away from her face]
It's nice of you to want this for us. But it's a bad idea. The answer isn't going to be what you want, and if I have to talk to the corpses of people I knew in life, it's going to be...well. That part isn't unprecedented.
[he drops his empty hand into his lap, shoulders lowering]
It's more than that.
I'm tired, Sypha. I'm an old killer out of history, and I don't know how to live in a world that doesn't need me. I'd be bitter, and useless, and I'd ruin whatever happiness you and Simon manage to find.
I saw you in Targoviste. When you were instructing everyone around you, and putting together food and outhouses and medical supplies.
You were brilliant. You don't need me souring up that with my uselessness. Simon doesn't need a father who doesn't know how to cry or show emotions other than anger or exhaustion.
I'm getting worse the longer I stay here; I can mask it for a while but it's always in the back of my head.
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I know.
[Softer; giving voice to his deepest fears]
I'm worried about not being accepted by my dead family if I come back to life. It's not natural to us. And it feels wrong to shake the hand of a devil I can't see, someone who'd hold my soul hostage unless I do something for him.
I'd be damned.
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Trevor. Do you think I would make a deal with a devil? Even for you?
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He doesn't feel right. And if I feel that way, my family definitely would. I'm already facing permanent estrangement by making friends with Dracula. If I come back to life, it'll be spitting in the face of every ancestor who had the choice and instead chose to die.
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If you'd be damned or cut out for coming back to life, after giving yourself to save the world, Trevor, then it isn't the Admiral holding you hostage, is it?
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It would be like being a vampire. It isn't, not exactly, but it would be seen that way. Saving the world was just a bonus: dead is dead.
And it's not only me. You and our kid would be just as rejected. Any descendants we have couldn't be reasonably called Belmonts if their grandfather was a massive fucking hypocrite.
And there are certain weapons and wards that might not work if there are no longer 'legitimate' descendants.
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Then we'll find out.
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Yeah? How? You going to phone up some long-dead relatives?
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I'll drag one of them here, if I have to.
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I'd rather go to my grave like I was supposed to, than unnaturally extend my life with the help of a necromancer, and summon up my dead family, who hunted unnatural phenomenon, in order to ask them permission to fully estrange us all from them forever.
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Because that is what you have decided will happen, and you won't see any other options. You said it yourself, this is unprecedented.
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No, that's what will happen. You don't bring back a family of monster hunters. No matter the reason.
[He reaches for her hand to pull it gently away from her face]
It's nice of you to want this for us. But it's a bad idea. The answer isn't going to be what you want, and if I have to talk to the corpses of people I knew in life, it's going to be...well. That part isn't unprecedented.
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Then I will find other sources.
[And keep the possibility of speaking with the dead as a last resort. She does remember how well that went for St. Germaine.]
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It's more than that.
I'm tired, Sypha. I'm an old killer out of history, and I don't know how to live in a world that doesn't need me. I'd be bitter, and useless, and I'd ruin whatever happiness you and Simon manage to find.
I saw you in Targoviste. When you were instructing everyone around you, and putting together food and outhouses and medical supplies.
You were brilliant. You don't need me souring up that with my uselessness. Simon doesn't need a father who doesn't know how to cry or show emotions other than anger or exhaustion.
I'm getting worse the longer I stay here; I can mask it for a while but it's always in the back of my head.
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Was he unhappy?
You got to meet him. I didn't. Was he unhappy?
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[he admits, quietly]
But I don't know if that's the Admiral pulling the strings. Creating an ideal future to force me to choose his way. We don't know if that was our kid.