I mumbled my confession my eyes fixed on the lapels of his gray and black pinstripe vest. "I messed up Walter." Looking at the pure gray and cobalt black patterns where the perfect ironing had been done. Anything to avoid his eyes.

I avert my eyes further by looking down at the mattress of the coffin-bed. Clinical white fabric. I don't want to see the disgust and loathing there as he looks at me. The same look I see whenever master looks at me when I've made a mistake. I feel Walter touch my cheek and I flinch thinking he will slap me, scold me for my admission. I made a mistake and had to be punished. Doesn't matter what mistake and if they don't know what yet, I wont learn if I'm not punished. He will slap me now.

I am wrong.

He strokes the side of my cheeks so softly. So… kindly… His gesture of comfort makes me shudder. I feel like crying. I bite the inside of my cheek because suddenly my throat is thick and swollen with emotion. It is like swallowing sticky syrup that slowly slides down my throat to make room for more. The back of my eyes feel hot and it's suddenly hard to breathe. My chest feels hot and tight. I clench and unclench my hands, balling them up in front of my stomach. Trying to find a way, anyway to not cry and I manage to withhold the shuddering gasp. If I cry anymore Walter will look upon me with disgust. I just know it. He will be disgusted by my weakness. My show of emotion. I will be pathetic in his eyes, pathetic as I am to everyone else. 'Not good enough'.

Yet once again I am wrong.

He speaks to me like his hand runs over my face. He speaks to me gently. Patiently. Almost affectionately. "What mistake have you made Miss Victoria?"

There is no anger or loathing in his voice. Why is he not disgusted by my weakness? Master is. In fact, why is Walter not disgusted by my existence and for making mistakes? Master is. I look down at the mattress of the coffin-bed as I mumble out my answer again, unable to say it out loud. I am so quiet in my answer, as if I try to eliminate my voice and therefore my ability to admit my weakness. To admit my feelings. Never the less Walter hears me. He hears and is patient while I speak.

"I… I knew it was impossible… I knew master wouldn't… I mean would never feel the… I mean, I know he wouldn't even consider looking at me in the way. I knew that he doesn't see me like that and I… I'm not very appealing … I'm not very pretty you know … Yet I had hoped… maybe after a while… if I improved myself… he wouldn't have to be ashamed and maybe…" Walters hand stops moving on my face and he makes a small noise of comprehension. The light dawns and he knows how stupid I was to not be able to stop myself and how weak I am. After a moment he continues stroking, trying to comfort me.

Somehow... admitting it aloud… hurts just as much as keeping it quiet…

It was like trying to remove a splinter that was made of the purest of blessed water from my chest. Except that the splinter grew and grew as I pulled it out, keeping the hurt there inside me. Inside my chest. Inside my heart. Just to keep hurting me. It grew so it could stay inside me. to burn me from the within out and make me suffer. The gentle hands on my cheek stop their stroking.

I stiffen. Nervous. Was he going to hit me now. Punish me for my weakness? For my idiocy? I wasn't very smart either. I knew that. My inability to control my growing emotions for my master was proof of that. Emotions are weakness police girl. Love is human police girl. Vampires don't feel kitten.

Walter was going to scorn me for my weakness. My idiocy. Any moment now. He was going to be disgusted. Like master. I was weak. I would be disappointing to him. I am a disappointment. I wouldn't be 'good enough' for him anymore. I feel that cut inside me grow. Like at any moment my chest would just cave inwards even though I am lying on my stomach. Would he tell master? A stab of panic goes though me. I tried to avert my eyes too late. The hand moved from below my left eye to my chin, gently gripping it to move my head so my face would look to his. Why was he being gentle is he was going to yell at me? I tried but couldn't look away in time. He would look at me in revulsion.

I was wrong. Again.

I didn't see disgust. I didn't see revulsion. I didn't see loathing. I didn't see hate. Or anger. Or regret. Or disinterest. I didn't see sneers. I didn't see any emotion that I usually saw in my master's face when he looked at me. Or when sir Integra looked at me. Or what the other soldiers of Hellsing looked at me with when they saw me in the shooting range or on missions.

I saw fatherly affection and sympathy. I saw friendship. I saw patience. I saw concern. For me. My eyes burned hotter and the familiar sensation of my eyes trying to push themselves out of my sockets came as they got watery. And that familiar tight feeling in my throat returned thicker than ever. No… no more crying… Walter would see. Walter would see and he would think of me as weak and disgusting and pathetic as I am. He would call me pathetic and human…

Slowly he leaned forward and put his aged arms around me in a hug. I trembled, shaking from the effort to stop myself. When was the last time I had ever felt a hug? I had forgotten how warm and soft people could feel. A great shuddering gasp escaped me. And the bottom of my throat got a thick tingling feeling. Don't be weak. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cr-

"It's okay Miss Victoria."

That did it. I lost all composure and façade. I threw myself at him clutching at his vest like a helpless child unable to stop my crying. My chest heaving and hitching with hurt and sadness. My eyes weeping scarlet red with heartbreak and unrequited feelings. My soul sobbing in the pain of an unrequited love. But mostly I ached with the relief that my weakness wasn't disgusting to one person. Just one. I wasn't disgusting to a person once. Just this once.

I may be weak, I may be worthless. I may be disgusting, pathetic, a disappointment and too human to be worth anything. But maybe…

Just maybe…

For once I am 'good enough' for one person? I wasn't disgusting? I wasn't a nuisance? I wasn't completely worthless? I wasn't pathetic? Or a waste of space and time? Or even a disappointment? Maybe I was, to one person, worth something? The idea makes me cry harder and I shudder with relief mingled with grief. I don't know whether to cry for my broken heart or cry and dance with joy that I was worth something, no matter how small, to someone.

I tried not to wail in my grief. If my master heard me…

He would come looking for the source of the noise, the wailing. He enjoyed the suffering of others and wouldn't pass up the opportunity. He would find me crying. I was already enough of a useless disappointment to him in his eyes. He would look at me in the way of his. I couldn't stop myself from telling Walter this idea, weeping out reasons for my pain. My voice was shaking and wavering from sobbing.

"H-he… Mas-master re-re-regret-ts t-t-turn-ning m-me… H-he thi-thinks I a-am w-worth-le-ess… I'm a di-dis-apointment…"

Walters arms tighten around me and he assures me that is not true. "Miss Victoria, Master Alucard would never create you to be his fledgling if he did not think you were worthy. He is very old and very wise. He would not have created someone to be of his bloodline if he thought they were worthless."

But it IS true. I know it. I don't think Walter sees the way master looks at me the revulsion and absolute disgust no matter what I do. It wasn't just disgust it was complete and utter disgust that I was there at all. Those look in his eyes as if he is dispassionately studying an small, worthless insect and while bored he wonders if he should crush it or capture the pesky bit of filth in a bell jar and slowly peel off the wings and legs like a mean little boy. The way he seemed to sneer and contempt for my presence alone cuts me to tiny ribbons and shards inside. I start crying even harder, staining Walters's perfect vest and soaking his impeccably ironed shirt.

I am crying and being weak like master said I am, being to human and worthless..

I am making problems and wasting peoples time with my worthless self.

I am ruining the front of Walters's perfect clean coat and making a mess out of myself.

"I-I'm s-sor-r-ry Wal-walter… I-I-I'm being w-we-w-weak an-and cry-cryin-crying."

"It is NOT being weak to feel sad or to cry Miss Victoria." He said it so firmly, like he actually believed what he said and wasn't saying it just to get me to shut up and stop crying.

"Im ru-ru-ruining y-you-ur clo-cl-clothing." I don't know why I had pointed that out. Or why I was pointing out any mistakes and flaws of mine. Was I trying to get him to realize I was a lost cause? The last person who seemed to care?

"I believe that I have many other vests and shirts. I assure you Miss Victoria that I have been in service to Hellsing for many decades and have fought in battle before. This is neither the first or last time my clothing will be stained with blood."

Relief flooded me and I felt impossibly light. There was something that made me feel so good about crying. I felt light as a feather and every tear I shed made me lighter. I clutched tighter at the vest and tried to get closer. That was it. Maybe I had pointed out all those flaws and problems I had caused to test his affections and whether he was being genuine. He hasn't disappointed me. I feel more tears coming and gasped breathlessly tying not to cry to loudly. It was okay to cry and feel grief and he wasn't disgusted by me. Nor was he angry about his ruined clothing. He wasn't disgusted by me or my weakness or emotions. I felt wholly safe to trust myself with him.

I cried until I felt weak and my tears had dried up. I had cried until I had nothing left but the dizzy feeling of empty weightlessness. I sniffled and hiccupped while Walter went to the table and got my bucket and a towel. A gave me the towel and I whipped my face very awake that the bloody tears must make me look like a real mess. What surprised me was the three blood packets waiting for me in the melted ice. I wasn't opposed to blood and I had really begun to enjoy it ever since I gave in and started drinking. I was just confused as to why there were three. Walter smiled in understanding.

"Triple potions tonight miss Victoria. I hadn't planned on leaving until you confided in me."

I do feel really hungry and too much blood had gone to my crying. I feel very weak. Gratefully I took the first one and just bite into it the plastic. Something snapped in me and I gripped the bag possessively, growling in warning to any person foolish enough that might dare try to take my meal from me, digging my fangs further into the plastic sucking it dry in a minute. Ravenously I threw the bag behind me and snatched for the other one and did the same. I sat there a minute feeling the red in my eyes and a cloudy sort of feeling in my head, the power and strength making me rapturous. After another moment I start to come off of my high and realize I had done that in front of walter.

I look down nervously. The soldiers already looked at me as if I was a monster. Something unnatural to be hated and distrusted. Would Walter think the same with my display? I had been wrong three times before. Surely I was wrong now? I looked up and was relieved to see him smiling serenely. I whipped my eyes and my throat was sore.

"You're far too comfortable around vampires Walter." I croaked. He chuckled and handed me the third bag. I drank that much more slowly, not feeling at hungry as before.

Walter seemed to examine me closely. "Might I say without being rude Miss Victoria, that you look simply awful?" I blinked. Walters tone was playful and without knowing where it came from I laughed in the longest time. It felt so good to laugh and to actually remember what it was like I did it again. Breathlessly I managed to speak.

"Well you don't look so good yourself Walter. Covered in blood like that and it's dark. Hankering for human flesh? I should get out a silver pistol and shoot you for being a ghoul." He chuckled. She eyed him. He was too old and tired looking to be up at this time of night but she was grateful. "Thank you Walter. You need to get some sleep though."

He looked concerned and I was grateful but if he didn't go to bed I would push him out the door and up the stairs all the way to his room. If pushing wouldn't work I would carry him, dangerous silver evil dental floss wires be damned. I could feel dawn coming soon. He realized the time and promised we would speak later. He left and I laid back and put down the lid. I felt tired emotionally and physically. It was a good tired feeling. Id have to think on it later. I close my eyes and could feel sleep coming. As long as I had Walter I could withstand masters distaste for me. I think.

Xxxxxxx

Crap. I couldn't even last a month. Its "Run" all over again. Okay. I know I said that ill only do too stories at a time and I'm just going to have to eat my words. Sigh. Ill just update all the stories. If I can. I tried to no update "I know what you are" and like this story I was slacking off in class and had already wrote half of the chapter. *bangs head on glass desk* No self control on writing these. I didn't get a brilliant idea. There is some major angsting in this story and then I found this poem that is scarily related to the story I am writing. I altered it a bit but you guys will all find out the poem as time goes on in the title of the chapter.

Alright. Exhale moodily. This chapter brought to you my inability to keep a promise to myself and because I have no self control.

And remember: I DO NOT OWN HELLSING. (But according to a survey I just made up, I do own Baskervilles.)

-He will knock four times