AN: while I normally save these for the end- I have to explain this one a bit. This is a rewrite of the first story that I posted here in 2005. I've been debating doing this for a while- just for shits and giggles. I decided on Sonata because it's the oldest posted- one of the shortest- and Hellsing wasn't even finished when I wrote it so I thought fuck it. The original is posted underneath the rewrite, and underneath that is another note.

Sonata [REDUX] original 02/03/05. Redux 3/3/19

Summary: Walter reflects on his relationship with Alucard during World War 2 (short and crappy).

Gravel shifted underneath my foot as I stared him down from the top of the rubble, as I stared him down with a face he never had a chance to know during his slumber. A face, he could have once known, but didn't. A face he had once denied in favor of torpor. Still grinning, always grinning he looked back. Traitor.

In his eyes, I saw those days reflected. Those days that I sought asylum based on the words of my gypsy mother who swore I was half British, the days the Hellsing took special interest in my case, and the snippets of war that we had shared.

The trappings of mortals means nothing to me. He had once said. Then we descended from the sky into blood and carnage, into deceit, death and decisions, a place that was once my home. Slowly, and with time it lessened until we had nothing left but liberation and clean up where within I had my weakest moment. Alucard had been there, his white suit stained with red and ash, in my most mortal coil. I reverted into a child the moment I saw my mothers corpse. I was wracked with emotion and turmoil, and tears I swore I would never show. Alucard consoled me, eventually pulling me away.

That night and morning we occupied a german officer's house- I spent hours pulling down the red curtains, the red flags, everything in sight in a grief stricken rage, screaming. Again, he was in the corners, watching, observing as I acted out in the most primitive and childish of ways.

Soon the walls were bare, everything was broken and I was panting, and collapsing on the floor with an exasperated yell. When I woke up he was leaning over me with a cool washcloth and a curious expression. Spouting words of comfort and understanding he ran a hand through my hair, pushing it off my forehead gently. Then he kissed me, and while I waited for another his expression changed. I reached for him and he deferred me. What had I done to be spurned as such? To be denied? Had he seen his denial spur my betrayal? He had initiated contact and withdrawn his affection. What flaw did he see in these mortal trappings? How could a monster like him turn away such an eager and willing lover? I fled the room, then the house but not before lighting it ablaze. I didn't want a single reminder of my rejection to exist, but he still did. He still existed, spouting empty words on the cutting room floor. Words that meant nothing to him, that fell from his mouth like blood dripped from a cut. He thought his words were wisdom, that they belied the intelligence of his experiences, but they were nothing to him, like I was. Nothing.

The trappings of mortals means nothing to me. And, yet he had denied me. The denial that led to my betrayal. The words had meant nothing in his mouth anymore and I knew I would hear him repeat them again. I should have killed him while he was in that dungeon, fed him tainted blood when he donned that ugly red coat. I hated red, he knew that. He knew what red reminded me of. That red coat that I knew he wore to spite what he had denied me and what he had seen me do that night. It was a constant reminder of that night, the one he never spoke of but demanded I be reminded of constantly. I was relieved when he went into torpor in the Hellsing's dungeon. I expected him to remain that way until my natural death.

Instead I returned from leave and he was there, standing over Integra's shoulder with that everlasting grin on his face, acting as if nothing had ever transpired. I worried for her then. She was only a few years younger than I was. Was he going to internally torment her existence as he had done mine? It didn't take long for me to realize that Integra had too much pride and self respect to allow a monstrosity to taint any part of herself. I was relieved. Then Seras showed up and I was spurned even further.

He spoke that mortal trappings meant nothing, he said, yet he showed that they meant everything. His remarks were edged with razor blades. John Bull, you've aged, past your youth….past your prime years...a father to Integra. All those words became my pigeonhole but there was one more that he gave me. One that I wanted to prove to him, to give to him like the nickname itself that I never wanted.

Angel of Death.

I wanted to make it ironic- to kill the one that gave me the name, to destroy the one who claimed he molded me. I would not be denied or ignored any longer, and as I stared down that distinct grin from a top the rubble, I knew, I knew it would be my last battle, and I knew I would kill him or die trying.

End

2005 Original-

I was born into a band of gypsies, my mother was the head of them. When I was still young she told me that my father was a British traveler.

When I was 15 I became employed by the Hellsing Agency, and given the nickname "Shinigami" Meaning "Angel of Death". I had been employed only a few months before war broke out in my home country of Germany. After treacherous battles with Nazi's and in other treacherous warfare, it was over. Alucard and I had been instructed by Lionel Hellsing to go through all the concentration camps and burn the corpses. Among the piles of rotting flesh, I found my mother, she was only newly dead. She had been tortured and starved. I held her in my arms and cried, I cried for the woman that had given birth to me, and cared for me like no other. Alucard put his hand over my shoulder to offer a small comfort.

That night we stayed in a home that had recently been occupied by a German Nazi. Alucard held my while I cried. His arms were strong, and his unnecessary breath even. He comfortingly rubbed my back and muttered words of solace in my ear. When I awoke the next morning he was standing over me with a cool washcloth. He had kissed me and that was the end of that. That was the end forever.

I have since aged considerably, while he has retained his youthful undead appearance. He goes after Hellsing's master now, the lovely girl that I raised like a daughter. But beware of his charm Integra, beware. I am Walter C. Ddollneaz and that is my story.

Authors Final note: Well it wasn't hard to more than triple the length on this and expand on it. I was a little vague in some parts because I wanted to focus on others (original was 200something words)if youre from the hellsing fandom and remember any of the shit I wrote back in the early 2000's then- I'm sorry- I'm really sorry and I don't advise reading any of my other Hellsing fanfiction. I was very, very young. I can do better now. I'll try not to sully this fandom with any more of my garbage. Im on tumblr as michellekellyff. You can find me there. So I hope you all enjoyed this better than the original.I wrote this before I was aware of walter's betrayal, hellsing was around volume 4-5 around this time- maybe 6 and all we had were the episodes- the OVA hadn't even been developed yet. I'm not sure if I'll do new Hellsing stories or not. Debating. Take care xoxoxo MK