Disclaimer: I don't own or make a profit off of this piece.
Starring: Walter, slight Walter/Alucard.
Author's Note: I do so love vampires. Especially when they are Nazi vampires.
Summary: Just once more.
_o0
Prologue
He traded darkened city streets chocked with fear and spies, school uniforms and selling newspapers for leather gloves and cigarettes that looked like fireflies in the night. He traded headlines and war bond posters for secret codes and wanted posters. He was a boy who lived on just one more leap, one more throw, one more apple, one more twitch of the razor wire. The world was his toy, and he was sitting on the top of the hill.
He pretended not to notice Alucard's knowing smirk that hovered beneath her pink dress and oversized coffin.
Once more he perches on an airplane and he hears the world shrieking in his ears and his smiles so wide his face hurt because it cannot get better then this.
Intermission
He's traded leather gloves and starlit smokes for a monocle and wrinkles. The streets have not changed, still chocked with fear and spies, the stench of some kind of evil wafts through every window. His secret codes are still at his reach, only in binary now instead of Enigma's words. He is a man now who lives on just one more tactical theory, just one more cup of tea, one more visit from those insufferable Catholics, one more new gun, one more new lesson of violence.
He pretends to ignore Alucard's soft remarks about the grey in his hair from underneath his orange glasses.
Once more he sits perched, only at a computer waiting for a phone call for Integra and he can't escape that itch that lingers in his fingers.
Epilogue
He's traded Hellsing for his leather gloves. The streets have turned into rivers of blood, of smoke-filled screams and endless corpses. The Major's voice is trickling into his ears, not the passionate commands that he is so used to hearing from Integra. He can see their faces, dismayed and knowing and enraged but the itch in his fingers is gone. Muscles ripple smoothly as he dives into the fight and he wonders to himself why it took him so long to embrace this (albeit limited) chance at being able to embody piss and vinegar again. The smell of ozone and gunpowder and blood is intoxicating and he grins.
Once more he sits perched, with Alucard's tie floating above him in the breeze.