Author's Note: This is based off of one of the many fairy tales I've read in my day and have forgotten the name of: Maybe someone knows about it and can link me to it. It's the one about the little girl who's soul is spirited away to a fairy world and her brothers or cousins or someone go to save her and bring her back. Do you know it? I honestly can't even remember if it's European or Native American or what.
Also, I don't own Hellsing blah-blah-blah.
"And then, you know what? He managed to stuff his own guts back in and walk twenty miles to camp. We had to take all of his intestines out and wash them by hand. He became my hero that day, know why? He had his stomach sewed up that day, and still managed to fuck his woman that night."
"Pip, you're absolutely disgusting," Seras admonished calmly as she stirred her drink. She took a sip through the straw, sniffing at the frothy, bloody beverage in the cup before shrugging. "You know, this smoothie isn't too bad. The fruit's a little sour, though—it's making me nauseous." Pip looked at her with a dramatized smirk before sighing as she took another drink.
"Cher, are you not going to talk about it to me at all? What's the matter with you?" he asked, sounding slightly offended. Ever since he became her familiar, her closest companion, she had always shared her thoughts and opinions with him. But tonight, after what happened last night, he was beginning to worry. He'd expected her to be brimming with excitement, or apprehension—something that would remind him of the blonde he knew thirty years ago. But all in all, she was just acting as though it were another boring night.
"What do you mean?" she asked honestly, looking at him as she stirred the smoothie again. "Talk about what?" Pip gave her a "be-serious" look before shifting within his shadow-seat, stretching his intangible legs out along the rooftop.
"You know," he said, looking all around the roof to make sure they were alone. "Him. Coming back. I thought you two had some telepathic mumbo-jumbo going on up in there," he said as he tapped her head with one finger. She moved slightly, pushing his hand away and depositing the rest of the smoothie over the side of the mansion.
"Our minds are still bridged, yes. But I don't see why Alucard returning should have me talking. Lt. Ricker returned a month ago and I didn't throw a party." She sniffed and looked over the edge of the roof at the soldiers milling about below. Pip watched her for a minute before shrugging to himself.
"Yeah, but you don't like the lieutenant," he muttered before scratching his nose. "I just thought that you'd be… you know, happy that he was back. He is your-"
"He drank my blood and gave me new life. And that's all," she stated firmly as she stood and began to make her way over to the tiny trapdoor that led to the stairs. "Whether or not he decided to show up again isn't any business of mine." Pip scrambled to his feet and followed on her heels, pulling a cigarette out of his vest and lighting it with mere thought.
"So you're angry at him. Is this because he didn't come see you first?" he asked wryly, leaning over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her reaction. To his dismay, she didn't flinch.
"Of course not. Naturally, he'd report to his commanding officer first. I've spent the last thirty years without him, and I'm not in a position to need him now. If he wants to talk to me, that's fine. If not, I'll just continue on like I've been doing." She walked purposefully down the winding hallways, avoiding armed men and servants on her way down to the basement. Reaching her room, she sniffed and immediately bristled. "Who did this?" she asked softly.
"What, Cher?" Pip looked around at the immaculate room. It was all clean, from fresh sheets on the bed to a spotless throw rug and polished furniture. Seras scowled, her fists shaking as she took in the sight.
"Who did this?!" she screamed, throwing the table over in one fell swoop as she covered her nose and ran through Pip on her way back to the upper levels. Pip followed as fast as he could, doing nothing more than gasping as she ripped pictures from walls and knocked over tables and vases, the expensive china shattering on the floor. The men in the halls immediately recognized the threat and made themselves scarce, too terrified of the rampaging Draculina to remember that they had expensive, deadly firearms strapped to their bodies.
"Seras! What's the meaning of this?!" Pip turned around to see Sir Integra standing behind them, her pistol hanging loosely from one hand as she looked around at the remains of her decorations in awe. The elderly heiress holstered her weapon and her eye turned steely as she puffed herself up, clearly about to go on a rampage of her own. Behind her, a crimson-clad shadow lounged in the doorway carelessly and Pip glared at him angrily. He was more than likely the reason for all this fuss, no matter what Seras claimed. She couldn't hide her mind from him; the Frenchman lived there, after all. He knew she'd had her feelings hurt when the ancient vampire had all but ignored her upon his return.
"Someone's been in my bedroom." The quiet admission had Pip turning back to his blonde companion. That was it? She was angry because someone walked into her room and cleaned? He scoffed impatiently and shook his head. Seras turned in anger, punching a hole through the sheetrock as her shadow arm dissolved around her in her fury. "Someone went into my room! How can I sleep in there when they left their horrid stench everywhere!? And they used chemicals to clean it, too!" Seras pulled her fist out of the wall and ran a hand through her hair, making the strands stick out wildly. "How am I supposed to sleep in there!?" she repeated hysterically.
"Seras, calm down," Integra replied softly, waving her hands in what was supposed to be a soothing motion. "It's alright, I'll find out who went into your room and make sure they understand to leave your things alone; don't worry." Seras shook her head, her eyes glowing and making her only look more eerie.
"Too late!" she cried. "It's already there, with the chemicals and the human scents; I can't go back in there now." She shifted restlessly on her boots and Pip dared to peek inside her mind, only to see it practically boiling.
"Cher, what's wrong with you?" he gasped, walking forward to grasp at her shoulder. This wasn't normal; even for a woman's wrath, something was wrong. In all the years they were together, he'd never seen her behave this way. Looking closer, he began to see more signs that he'd been missing. Her face was almost the same pallor as a human's: a sure sign that she was flushed beyond a normal angry color. She shook—not from fury, but most likely from weakness and he realized that the entire way up there, she'd been holding her shadows close to the wall for balance. "Something's wrong—you have a fever," he insisted.
"Leave me alone!" she shouted as he touched her cheek with wispy shadows. "Don't touch me!"
"Police Girl, calm yourself. It's unbecoming to shout," Alucard drawled nonchalantly, but his crimson orbs were looking her over closely with a concerned gleam.
"Don't tell me what to do, you-you jerk!" she shouted as she pointed at him. Without her hand on the wall she wavered visibly, staggering under her own weight as Pip rushed to help her. "Lemme go!" she growled as he held her on the ground with her own shadows, his green eye looking deep into her unfocused red ones. After a moment they shut and she slumped beneath his touch as she fainted.
"What's going on?" Integra shouted, moving as fast as she could to stand over Seras at a safe distance. Alucard came much closer, kneeling beside the incorporeal captain to lay a gloved hand across her forehead. He frowned and leaned closer, his forehead brushing hers before backing up just as fast.
"She does have a temperature," Alucard confessed in undisguised astonishment. Integra blinked in surprise, rubbing her face wearily as she looked at the damage Seras had caused.
"But how?" she asked quietly. "I don't understand; vampires don't take ill." Alucard shook his head, unable to answer her. Pip leaned back on his haunches, taking a puff of the cigarette and looking over the unmoving girl.
"She threw away over half her meal tonight. She said it was too sour; she couldn't stomach it." Integra's frown widened.
"She didn't finish even one glass? Fever, loss of appetite, weakness in the limbs…" She adjusted her glasses. "It could be a great number of things that would cause those symptoms." She tapped her forehead before motioning to Alucard. "Take her to my room and let her sleep in my bed. I doubt that the chemical smell was that bad, but the servants know not to clean her room. I'll make sure someone goes in and airs it out. Watch over her and tell me if something happens." She turned and made her way down the hall. "If you need me, I'll be in the library."