Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing. I don't own oatmeal. I don't own centipedes. I'm a good-for-nothing student; I don't own much of anything, alright?
Note: I know there are words spelled wrong. Integra is sick and her speech is impaired because of her runny nose so she talks funny, her m's sound like b's, and words are just screwed up, okay? Just read it the way it is and you'll understand. Thank you.
"Miss Hellsing, good morn–" the loyal butler stopped mid-sentence when he turned to see the 17 year old shuffling into the kitchen behind him. "Are you alright?" The young director was dressed for school, but looked half dead. She slouched weakly, her nose was red, her eyes were puffy and irritated and her skin was slightly blanched.
"I sink its juz a code. I'll be ogay," she sniffed and wiped at her nose with a handkerchief she had at the ready in her skirt pocket.
"How long have you been feeling this way?" Walter asked, bringing Integra a steaming bowl of oatmeal and setting it before her on the breakfast table.
"I had a small tiggle in my throat laz night and my nose was a little runny."
"Um…a what in your throat last night?"
Integra repeated, "A tiggle." No response. "You know, Walder, a tiggle." She held a hand at her throat and wiggled her fingers as if tickling her neck.
"Oh. I understand," Walter went back to wiping down the cabinets.
Integra sniffed and dipped her spoon into her oatmeal, turning it over and watching it plop with a thick jiggle in the bowl. "Ugg."
"Something wrong?" Walter turned to face her. She had a sick look to her. The spoon dropped from her weak hand and rattled against the bowl.
"I'm juz not vewy hungry today, Walder."
"Miss, I don't think you should be going to school today. You're way too sick."
"Nonsense. I can mage it through one day." She stood to leave the room, but promptly collapsed to the tile floor. Walter tossed the dish towel he was holding onto the counter and rushed over to the propped up 17 year old. "Ow. I sink my whole body huts."
"You're going straight to bed, Miss Hellsing. I won't hear another word about you going to school. I'll call the office and tell them you've caught the flu and will not be attending today."
"The fuu? I'b neber had the fuu."
"Well," he replied, picking her up easily in his arms. "There's a first for everything."
Down in his room in the basement (Integra refused to call it the dungeons), Alucard tossed and turned within his coffin. Usually, the No Life King had no problems sleeping. To use a ghastly cliché, the vampire slept like the dead. However, today Alucard could just not get to sleep and it was irking him to no end. Frustrated, he growled every time he found that a position didn't help. In a matter of minutes, the vampire emerged from his dark resting place, gnashing his teeth and glaring ahead. He climbed out of his coffin and went to his chair to sit and glower. On his way, he stopped, feeling that something was off. He paced around the room, not sure what it was at first. Then, he narrowed his options down to Integra. He was bound to her and that bond had produced some strange effects. Namely, when Integra was mad, Alucard knew, when Integra was sad, Alucard knew, when Integra was gone, he knew, when she was awake, he knew, and—his favorite—when Integra was bleeding in any way shape or form…oh he knew. This, though, was different. It was a new sense and one that he hadn't felt in a long time. He knew one thing, though, and that was that he was tired and wanted to sleep. He had stayed up the last few days just watching or annoying Integra and now he was ready for his much missed rest. With out wasting a single second, Alucard drifted up and through the floor of the basement toward his master's room, which is where he sensed her presence.
Walter laid a protesting Integra down on the already made bed. He left the covers off at her request and felt of her forehead; it was hot to the touch.
"Now, Integra, you just lay here and rest and don't you dare get up or I'll have to sit on you, you understand?"
"Walder, really." She rolled her eyes. "At least give me some papers to work on. Lord knows I have a billion waiting on my desk already."
"No, ma'am," the butler raised his voice slightly. "Those papers will be there tomorrow. A fever like yours can be dangerous, so, really Integra, just stay here and rest." With that, Walter left and closed her bed room door behind him. Integra sighed and rolled away from the door, lying on her side with her aching legs pulled up half way.
"Ugg. Dis is a comblete waste of my tibe," she grumbled, closing her eyes. She had to admit, though, she was still very tired.
Alucard peeked in at his endearing master through one of the walls. She was curled up on her bed, looking very tired, very distressed, and very cute. He smirked and stepped completely into the room. "Master, what seems to be the problem?" All he received in response was a cold grumble. He approached the bed and looked down at the resting young woman of steel. Feeling his stare, Integra turned over and faced him.
"What do you want?" she groaned.
"Nothing but your superlative wellbeing, my Master." He grinned.
Integra just returned the gaze of her servant and sniffed, "Do me a fabor, Alucard, and go get a stack of reborts from my…my…" she turned and yanked out her handkerchief right in time to catch a sneeze. She growled in frustration. "frob my desk." Alucard smirked.
"Master, might I just say that you're looking exceptionally lovely today?"
"Alucard, my reborts."
Alucard sat down on the edge of the bed, an action to which Integra rolled her head back with an exasperated sigh. "Not today, Alucard. I hab absolutely no patience for your bothersome games. I'b asked you twice albready. Now, go get–" Integra was cut short by a gloved finger pressed to her lips.
"Master," Alucard began bluntly. There was no smile now. He leaned over her, his other hand on the other side of her head for support. "You are sick. Dreadfully sick. You may play the hapless victim all you want, my dear, but there is no doubt in my mind that it is you and your work-horse ways that are completely at fault here." Integra's brows furrowed in anger and she tried to argue a reply but Alucard pressed the whole of his hand this time across her little mouth, leaning down into her now, his face mere inches from her own. "I can't sleep, Master, and you have no idea how that infuriates me. Your condition and the strains you put your body under…your mortal, human body…it breaks me and makes it so that I can not focus on anything else. It's times like these I truly abhor your reckless treatment of your body. You are young. Your body is frail. You can not work all day and not rest. You barely eat enough to feed a bird." He leaned back and uncovered her mouth. "However, I've sworn to protect you. What you need is a great deal of rest." He smirked. "And I'm going to make sure you stay in this bed." With that, Alucard rose and walked over to a chair in the corner of her room. He sat down very nonchalantly and crossed his legs, folded his hands on his knee and lowered his hat a bit so that it concealed his eyes.
Integra stared quizzically at the vampire as his words continued to soak in. He had definitely overstepped his bounds. He had gone too far. He insulted her. How dare he speak to her in that tone of voice, saying those things. He sought to control her; she would not have it. She was his master. She sat up and glared at him, her eyes lit up with rage. If he wouldn't retrieve those reports, she would. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, defiantly. "You loathsob creature," she sniffed. "I don't take orders from you! I'll get those–". Just as Integra was about to hop off the bed, she glanced down to the floor. All over her bedroom carpet, multitudes of spiny, black centipedes writhed and crawled. Integra's breath caught in her lungs and she was so shocked, she didn't see the red eye peer at her disgusted expression from under the wide brim of Alucard's red hat. Nor did she hear the dark, amused chuckle that floated from the chair in the corner. The filthy creatures crawled everywhere, even over each other. They gathered around the bed beneath the Hellsing's hovering legs and some seemed to even reach up toward the bare skin of her feet. Integra slowly pulled her legs back onto her bed and scooted to the very center of her little untainted refuge. Her head was spinning and her stomach churned with nausea. All her joints ached, her nose was running, her throat scratchy, and there was an ocean of centipedes squirming all around her. She cradled her head and lay down slowly, closing her eyes and sighing. "I hate you, you horrible vambire," she grumbled, wiping at her nose with her tissue. "Hate you."