He hated the sun. He hated the white puffy clouds and the blue sky, but the sun, he loathed with a burning passion. However much he hated the ball of fire, it did not matter, for today, though he would rather not, he was under orders to track down a vampire and its horde of mindless ghouls, knowing their location before hand so that he could make the journey and arrive at the site when the sun was setting, when his prey would be waking up. They were trash, all of them, useless, weak dog feces that did not have the right to walk on the Earth for another second, so Alucard had slaughtered them. Simply put. Now that he was returning to Hellsing Headquarters, he gazed at something his hands held on his lap that he had noticed bobbing up and down in the breeze when the puffy clouds and the blue sky had been out, something that lived in the blasted sun and yet did not receive the same scorn the demon offered most day-light related things.
He took it back to Hellsing and, that night, left it on his master's desk, leaving Van Hellsing with a mild smile the man did not flaunt so as to not anger his slave unnecessarily. He did not mind the souvenir.
The next morning when the hated sun had risen and the puffy clouds were crawling all over the blue sky, the demon that despised these things was sleeping beneath the Earth's crust, buried like one of the dead in a stone tomb; so he was ignorant of the doctor's presence when John Seward arrived in time for a mid-morning tea out beneath the hated sun and sunny spring weather. The man was sipping his tea, but his attention was distracted from the taste, all of his consciousness focused on the delicate blue wings of the butterfly that was perched inside a glass jar, wings blinking to hide some of the leaves that grew off of the thin segment of a greenish branch that leaned against the glass and curved up to touch the metal lid of the container. Abraham smiled over his tea and held the cup in his gloved hands, taking in warmth and comfort as he watched the younger man admire the beautiful creature.
"Alucard brought it to me last night. I haven't the slightest clue as to how he managed to find the jar though."
Bewildered by this, Dr. Seward failed to speak, only able to watch the reflective blue wings glint a ray of sunlight and then blink again like the alluring lashes of a charming woman. The same kind of charm touched the man, causing him to feel inclined to pick up the jar, but he withheld this temptation for the butterfly's sake and instead gave Hellsing a questioning frown, his brow knitting loosely for a moment of consideration. He thought the jar looked like one used to pickle plums or cucumbers or even store jam, but that was not the most important question here. Abraham was usually one to pick out the odd details in things, John shook his head, humored by the thought, and then frowned as he mulled over the reason that would have prompted the Count to capture the butterfly and then present it to his master.
Abraham observed the thinking doctor with his easy smile growing, remaining even when the lip of his tea cup threatened to make it shrink. He drank his tea with the same smile, watching John until he looked away to set his tea on the saucer it matched. Humming and folding his hands in his lap, Van Hellsing saw that John would never be able to reach the answer on his own. If he had been in John's position, asked to make sense of this action, he would not have been able to explain it either. It was a peculiar practice Alucard had begun a few months ago.
Abraham spoke, regaining Dr. Seward's eyes and attention immediately and the younger man watched him without blinking. "Alucard has taken a liking to bringing me things that are blue."
The doctor continued to stare at the Dutch man, blinking when he absolutely had to. Lips parted for speech, but then had nothing to say, so John blinked some more and shut his mouth. Abraham grinned at the effect, causing Seward to realize his response so John cleared his throat and busied himself with sipping his tea. When his throat was loosened, he attempted to speak again, meeting eyes with Hellsing.
"Blue things? Why would he bring you things that are blue? -Blue? A color for peace? Or maybe sadness? I don't-"
Hellsing's chuckle cut off his wandering words and Seward paused to listen to what the older man had to say about the matter. "John, my friend." He smiled warmly, looking directly into the man's awaiting eyes. "What color do you think of, looking at me?"
Blinking eyes and a furrowed brown greeted this odd question and John couldn't help but frown and shake his head. "I don't understand."
The smile remained, blue eyes creasing. "Color, John. What color?"
John stared at the older man for seconds, unable to decode whatever the man was trying to communicate, but finally Seward came to the realization with a laugh for his own slowness. "Ah, yes. Your eyes, Dr. Van Hellsing. So, I would think of the color blue." The amusing conclusion only bred more confusion in John Seward's mind, and the man had to lose his smile after a moment in order to think clearly again, something that required a frown most of the time when John found something to be especially puzzling. "But why? Why does the Vampire do it?"
Abraham took up his tea and looked into the ringed water that slowly calmed to become still. Its peace was upset by the man's mouth when he drank some of the tea and then put it down once more. Swallowing, Hellsing sighed, the tea having warmed his throat and mouth. "I don't know…but I find no harm in his gifts. …Do you?" Abraham looked across the table to see his friend watching him.
John looked away and then worried his tea with a spoon. He tapped it dry and then placed it back on the white saucer. "No. I can't say I do."
They were quiet for a time as birds twittered in the air, flying beneath the sun and clouds in the sky. The blue wings of the butterfly fluttered and it attempted to join them, tinking against the sides of the glass, hoping for a piece of the blue expanse of endless freedom above.
Abraham watched and said nothing.
Finally he let his mouth curve up at the side. "It's a pretty little thing, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
