Well, this is my first Hellsing fanfic, so please, be gentle. Reviews answered and appreciated, constructive criticism welcomed! This first chapter is short, kind of an introduction - future chapters will be longer, more detailed, and definitely have more action! (Haven't seen any Schrödinger X OC fics around, btw. Oh well, this will be the first one, then!)
He used to be the messenger, the envoy. He was always sent away by the Major to carry messages, and he never ever got worried about him. Not in the slightest. For he was always where he was supposed to be, and never left. With the ability of being "everywhere and nowhere", Junior Warrant Officer Schrödinger was certainly the best suited for this job, but… he almost always ended up being killled, and reviving after any horrible death. His head was blown off several times by now, but he always came back. So, when this time the Major went to his seat, and Schrödinger, who, as usual, had his head blown off on just another mission, wasn't there purring, he barely noticed. He would come back. He always did…
But he got tired of this once and for all. Being a pet, getting told off by the Doctor, no matter what he did, and the Major barely doing anything but smiling. If he happened to tell him completely seriously that the world was about to crumble, he either wouldn't have noticed, or just smiled and petted him. Schrödinger had enough of being nothing but an envoy, usually treated as a joking animal, just there for laughs, and never be taken seriously. And, having his head blown off so many times…
"Where is he" asked the Doctor, ready to tell Schrödinger off for some mess he caused in his lab.
"Just got killed on a mission" answered the Major steadily "he should be back tomorrow, if not sooner."
The Doctor muttered something and left.
But Schrödinger, after reviving, now was far, far away. He never wanted to go back to the Millennium base, or the Zeppelin. He needed some time… somt time that could even last forever. He somewhat began to grow up mentally, he wanted to be taken seriously. And he had enough time to notice he could get attention anywhere but at the Millennium.
He knew that sooner or later the Major would start looking after him, and, as far as he knew, the places he would have looked were playgrounds or hospitals, the Hellsing base, or maybe the Vatican.
He usually never got tired. But this time, after appearing, disappearing, running and searching all day, he was exhausted. His legs were about to give up when he reached a small house outside of a town, next to a forest, miles and miles from real civilisation.
The door was unlocked; he entered, barely knowing where he was, and collapsed on the bed, where he fell in a disturbed sleep.
He was still asleep when, an hour later, the owner of the small house came home…