Notes: Slight AU for paternal reasons since it follows the mangaverse. "Fairbrook" is given as Integral's mother's maiden name. That is my own invention and is not canon. Guess who's the father.
Alphabet
It all started when four-year-old Andrew Hellsing interrupted his mother's schedule and asked for her help in his lessons. The Hellsing Director pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were tired from staring at the computer screen and she looked down at her son who held a red notebook and a pencil towards her.
"What is it Andrew?"
"Help me, Mummy," he answered simply, already knowing her answer.
In her office, Integra pressed a button and the luminescent screen fell into hibernation mode. Swiftly, she piled her paperwork to one side of the massive desk and made room for the four-year-old and his elbows.
Andrew placed his things on the desk, his short hands barely reached over the top and he walked to a corner of the room. He refused to sit on his mother's lap; he wasn't a baby anymore. However, he liked being near his mother and liked to have her watch over his lessons. He wasn't in school yet, but soon he would be, and he had to be prepared.
In a darkened corner of his mother's office, he grabbed a wooden chair, evidence of his precious visits to her workplace, and started to drag it across the floor. The legs screamed against the tiles and he hesitated. He wasn't strong enough to carry it by himself – not yet anyways – but he always tried. He looked towards his mother and was greeted by a look that said he had to be stronger if he wanted to carry that chair by himself.
Integral stood up and carried her son's chair over to the desk, placing it to the right of hers. The chair came from the kitchens, at Andrew's request. His father had brought it here where young Andrew could watch his mother work with amazing efficiency. Sometimes, he'd pretend that he was reading important government documents and deciding the fate of the world alongside her, instead of his learning lessons, which involved simple counting equations and letter copying.
He climbed onto the soft, green cushion, flipped to the latest page of his red notebook and clutched his sharpened pencil in his right fist.
"What's your lesson today, Andrew?"
"Names. I want to practice before I start school so I can make you and Daddy proud." He inspected his writing utensil, bringing his left index finger to test the pencil's sharpness before writing today's date at the top of the page.
"I want to be good!" he stated with pride, his eyes shining brightly as he meticulously wrote his name underneath the date. The boy had no doubt that he would be the best student his new teacher ever had. After all, he was Hellsing, just as his mother taught him.
"Write your name again," Integral instructed and Andrew nodded. He readjusted his grip on the pencil and his mother noticed that his fingers slipped and now he held the pencil too close to the lead. Instinctively she corrected his position before lacing her fingers together expectantly and watched her son write his full name.
Andrew Fairbrook Arthur Hellsing.
"Good. What's Seras's name?"
Miss Ceras Victoria. Integral took a pen from her desk and circled the 'C' and reminded him that although it sounded like it, Seras's name started with an 'S.'
"What's my name, Andrew?" He grinned mischievously and scribbled,
Mummy.
"Haha. Very funny, Andrew. Now write my name properly."
Sir Integral Hellsing.
"Very good."
Andrew's lips turned up and he smiled, satisfied that his mother was satisfied. Integral watched her son flip to a new page and waited for her instructions. His writing was getting better, as much as one could expect from a four-year-old, but despite the notion that Integral knew her child would be a studious and brilliant student, he was never satisfied. He was always searching for more, asking for more, wanting her direction and her critique. Andrew couldn't seem to stop practicing.
He wanted perfection.
"Practice your alphabet."
Taking a deep breath, Andrew started at the top of the page with his A's. The first line he printed, upper case with lower case – Aa Aa – he repeated until he filled the entire line.
On the next line, he loosened his grip on the pencil a little and started his handwriting. These letters were a little wobblier than Integral would have liked, but it was still legible. Slowly, his fingers moved across the page as he looped and connected the A's together, making sure to finish the letter before starting a new one.
Integral smiled, Andrew was just four years old and already showing a thirst for knowledge. As her son moved his way through the B's and to the C's, Integral knew that one day Andrew would make Hellsing proud. He'd make his grandfather proud.
Integral named her firstborn after his grandfather, her own father, Arthur Hellsing, and added her mother's maiden name to his birth certificate as well. It was only understandable that he recognized his ancestors.
Her hand reached out and she stroked her son's fine blonde hair with a mixture of pride and regret. If only Arthur had lived long enough to see his first grandchild. There was a look of fierce concentration on her child's face as he looped his way through the G's and Integral briefly reminded him that he was holding the pencil too tightly.
But Arthur lived in the past. Andrew was her future.
A's. There were so many A's in her life. Alucard. Anderson. Angel of Death. Abraham. Arthur Hellsing.
Integral's mind wandered, she was half-conscious regarding her son's work as he wrote down the letters of the alphabet. They were letters, only strokes of a simple pencil, but they moved to their own accord and formed names and phrases in her mind that reminded Integral Hellsing just how far she had come in the past, what obstacles she had to overcome just to be able to reach this point in time – this moment of peace where she could watch her child prepare for grade school.
Hellsing. Her namesake, her son's namesake. Like Hell. Like Heaven.
Andrew wrote his last name with a flourish, he made all his H's very loopy and artistic, as if showing the reader just what a descendent of Abraham was made of. Then there was I – Integral. Innocence and ignorance. But Integra wasn't ignorant; she had paid for the safety of her country and of her people with her own blood - like a vampire. But the vampire in question brought her victory, just like Seras Victoria, daughter of Vlad Dracul, Dracula, or whatever name Alucard currently referred to himself as.
She let out an unexpected sigh. Talking about Alucard now reminded her of Walter, and that always brought about unhappy memories. The letter B wasn't just for blood, it was also for betrayal (microchip, FREAKs, copycats, ghouls) and brotherhood and Pip Bernadette. And wherever Pip went the Wild Geese followed. The French mercenaries followed their Captain just like Pip followed Seras to death and beyond.
Andrew was writing his M's now and where Integral sat in her chair, beside her son, they almost looked like W's to her.
Walter. Walter C. Dornez.
Millennium and WWIII. Iscariot XIII. Queen Elizabeth II. The Hellsing Agency.
Hellsing. The organization that swore to protect humans from vampire by employing a vampire itself. The vampire in question was no doubt the strongest of them all. And in a strange twist of events, Alucard was Hellsing. He made the Agency was it was today; he helped her rebuilt London in the name of the Queen and country. The vampire captured by her ancestor and taken into bondage for over one hundred years, a century, and hidden in the dungeons by her father, Arthur Hellsing.
A's. There were so many A's in her life. Arthur Hellsing, Abraham Van Helsing, Walter - Angel of Death, Alucard, Alexander Anderson, and Andrew Hellsing.
But many of these men lived in her past while others lived in her future.
"Mother?"
"Yes, Andrew?"
"I'm done my alphabet, want to see?" He pushed his red notebook towards her and Integral glanced over the pages, flipping the papers thoughtfully. She took extra care to look at the letters that he circled with his pencil. A circled letter meant that her son deemed it to be his finest work.
Integral made a few checkmarks for the sake of showing some constructive input. Andrew was never satisfied with just words – he needed to see the evidence of a job well done – and placed the notebook back in front of her son. Overall, the writing still betrayed the hand of a child but he truly was getting better. He practiced several times a day and had yet to fail at an assignment.
"It's good, Andrew, I like it." The heir of Hellsing tilted his chin up towards his mother and smiled – no, more like beamed with pride at his mother's confidence. Without fear he asked her,
"Are you a good speller, Mum?" He turned back to his own handiwork; his fingertip shined with lead as he fondly touched the written letters.
"Yes, I have to be a very good speller for my job. I have to be a good reader too." To emphasize her point Integral pointed in the direction of her paperwork and watched with amusement as her son's eyes widened slightly. It fascinated him, all those names, and all those letters.
"That's a lot of letters."
"Yes it is, Andrew. And when you're older, I will teach you how to read them."
As expected, the boy grinned, excited to have such a challenge to look forward to in the future. He didn't fully understand what his parents did for a living, but he knew that it was important. And just like mother said, when he was older, he could learn from her.
But now, he was content just to sit by her side and learn his alphabet.
Answer: Alexander Anderson