Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story and I'm not making any money from this writing.
Note: The previous chapter has been rewritten as of 4/20/14; if you read it previously, please go back and re-read it.
ALSO NOTE: a bit of medical grossness is contained in here. You're warned.
Chapter One - 30 years ago:
It was extremely odd, Integra decided, to have someone poking around in the eye socket where her eye used to be. The only sign of her discomfort however was the silent drumming of her fingers on her thighs as Dr. Trevailian continued with his examination. It had been nearly six weeks since the Burning of London; since the existence of vampires had been revealed to the world in a blaze of fire and an ocean of blood. Six weeks since the world had turned upside down and she had lost the last few people that were dear to her; since Walter's betrayal, since Alucard's disappearance. Dr. Trevailian's hum interrupted her thoughts,
"Everything seems to be healing well." He said as he took a step back from her and shook his head, "I can't believe how lucky you were that the bullet ricocheted off your glasses."
She was lucky, she knew; the bullet had ricocheted, the damage had been caused shards of broken lens driven into her eye by the force of the impact. Afterwards, Integra had put off seeking out attention for her eye as long as she could because as with any mass tragedy, medical services were far outstripped by the demand. She had felt the doctors' time and limited resources were best saved for those in life threatening situations. However it was when, two days later, the whole upper left quarter of her face was red and hot to the touch and a white, pus-like fluid began to leak from her eye that Seras was able to convince her to seek out Dr. Trevailian. How ridiculous it would have been for her to survive the attack on London only to die from infection. Dr. Trevailian had been absolutely furious with her for waiting so long, apparently he felt they might have been able to save her eye, if not her sight, if she had come in sooner. Within minutes she was in one of the clinics – the hospitals were full with those needing full-time intensive care, numerous clinics had been set up to accommodate those needing triage care and everyday medical needs – with Dr. Trevailian and a surgical assistant removing her eye with only local anesthesia. A pressure patch had been immediately applied afterwards and she was given a large bottle of antibiotics with strict orders to take the pills, keep the patch there and to return for weekly checkups.
"Ordinarily, this is the point I would send you to an Oculist to get fitted for a prosthetic eye," Dr. Trevailian told her after he turned back to one of the counters lining the wall. "However, with things the way they are-" Integra scoffed,
"I have no need for one, I'm not that vain. A patch will work just fine." She told him, beginning to stand from the table. He quickly stopped her however.
"Just sit there for a moment. Your balance can be a touch off after removal of the pressure patch. And also," he approached her with cotton balls, alcohol, a needle and several vials, "I want to take some blood while you're here."
Integra eyed him sourly as he placed the items down on a metal tray next to the examination table, "Any particular reason?"
"Several actually; I want to make sure that your infection is completely gone and we've also had a rash of disease outbreaks in the boroughs around London. Too many people, not enough medicine, unclean conditions – it's a bad mix. I just want to run a few panels to make sure everything is on the up and up." It took only moments after she had rolled up her sleeve for Trevailian to prep the area, insert the needle and begin to fill the vials. "After all," he said with a quick grin, "we need you of all people to stay healthy; your knowledge and experience with vampires is the one of the few things standing between this island and total decimation. That makes you invaluable, Integra."
Integra scowled at him in return, but said nothing because it was true. She was being called on by all levels of the military for advice and termination techniques – what type of ammunition worked best, did caliber make a difference in effectiveness, did you have to hit both the heart and the head or would one or the other suffice? All basic training any Hellsing solider would have received on their first day, but these weren't Hellsing soldiers. These were normal men and women that had been trained to deal with human threats, not walking nightmares. And parliament was consulting her on various plans they were making to try and get a handle on the situation in London.
The city itself was blockaded and quarantined, with petrol fires still burning and vampires and ghouls running around its ruins. With the M25 serving as the quarantine borders, recovery and containment operations had been moved to Maidstone, southeast of the ruins of London with the main communications center remaining in Dover. Any survivors of the initial attack had been subjected to thorough and invasive medical examinations for bite marks, and then quarantined for three weeks to ensure that no vampires had been missed. After that the people were shown to the temporary housing and clinics that had been set up nearby. Integra had helped set up the procedures and during that first week helped put those bitten survivors out of their misery. They were trying every route possible to contain the situation in order to avoid the "Final Solution".
"Have you been getting enough rest?" Trevailian asked as he replaced the needle in her arm with gauze and tape.
"Is anyone?" She countered, rolling her sleeve back into place.
The doctor gave a forlorn chuckle, "I suppose not. Still, aside from your eye, you've been feeling well?"
Point of fact, she hadn't; she was exhausted all the time and daily bouts of nausea made eating anything completely unappealing, which was making her dehydrated and weak. Still, she had work to be done, and since those antibiotics didn't take care of whatever bug she had managed to catch simply meant it was a virus, and would just have to run its course.
"I'm fine," she told him, sliding from the table and reaching for her jacket. She pulled the eye patch from her pocket and slipped it on, pulling part of her hair up so the elastic would sit against her scalp instead of on top of her hair where it could shift and slide around.
"That's good to hear. I'll send these over to the lab, where they will be added to the backlog of samples. It will probably take a while to get the results back. Continue to clean the socket as you have been and make sure you wash that patch frequently. And," he stopped and looked at her as she slipped her jacket back on, its bulk hiding the guns holstered below her shoulders, watched her fasten the buttons, "just try and take it as easy as you can Integra."
Integra chuckled ruefully and she walked to the door. "When our dead are resting, so will I." She called back over her shoulder as she stepped into the hallway and through another doorway that led her outside.
She wished stepping outside meant fresh air and sunlight; but Maidstone was too close to London for that. Ash and smoke clogged the sky, even the rain that was falling had a faint gray hew to it. The sound and motion of an umbrella snapping open to her right pulled Integra's attention that way. Seras stood there with a small smile, holding the open umbrella out to her while staying under her own. Integra reached out and took the umbrella and the two began to walk away from the clinic.
"Everything alright, Master?*" Seras asked and Integra frowned at the moniker.
"Yes, it's healing fine. And stop calling me 'Master'." Seras shrugged,
"Well, you are my Master by default; my Master's Master, which also makes you my Master." Integra rolled her eye at the girl, ignoring the look they were getting from a couple that had passed by them mid-conversation.
"Forget it." Integra sighed, reaching into her jacket for a cigar; she struggled momentarily to light it trying to both shield the lighter's flame and juggle the umbrella, "Any new developments?" She asked after her first successful drag. Seras nodded,
"Yes, Sir Islands wants to meet with you in Dover. Apparently they have decided that a more frequent rotation is needed at the quarantine stations and are training more teams. He wants you to work with some of them, to try and prepare them for what they'll be facing."
Integra released a puff of smoke. "Losing numbers are they?"
Seras shot her a grin that reminder her too much of Alucard, damn him.
"Apparently, not everyone can cope with the idea that you have to kill humans to save humans." Integra shook her head.
"The bitten won't stay human for long, I've told them this." She sighed again, "This is why only select members of the armed forces joined Hellsing; there is no time for a learning curve, or adjusting to an idea. Either you can kill monsters or you can't."
"I think that's why Islands wants you personally to work with these new teams." The Draculina responded as they reached the car; it was a simple vehicle, no bells and whistles, just built for pure functionality, which was more than most people had.
"Let's head to Dover then," Integra said, feeling exhaustion creep into her bones with the cold.
AN: I LIVE! I have suddenly found myself with more free time, which lends itself to writing.
I've changed the categories for this story (formerly General/General) to Horror/Angst. I've realized in writing this just how much those two categories will probably come into play in this story.
*In the version of the Manga I use for reference, in chapter 95, when Seras barges into Integra's room she calls her Master. I figured it had to start somewhere.