In the week following Anderson's arrival at the Hellsing compound, he progressed substantially. Despite his improvement, his regenerative qualities were still considerably stunted, and he still hadn't been able to walk very far on his own. He could get to the bathroom and shower on his own, but any more strain than that, and he'd collapse. It happened more than once, already. The Paladin had attempted to escape the compound, and was found struggling on the floor, a few feet outside of his recovery room. He'd cursed the nurses with every fibre of his being when they brought him back to the infirmary.

Seras had more or less kept completely clear of him, except when accompanying Integra for a visit or two. Alucard was a completely different situation altogether, though. The No-Life King found great enjoyment in taunting the ex-Priest, mocking him and trying to get a rise out of him at any chance he could find. He didn't exactly have to try very hard; the vampire's presence alone was enough to send Anderson into a homicidal rage, and this had on more than one occasion been the cause of the setbacks in the Paladin's recuperation.

Sunday proved to be a bit different.

Anderson spent the better half of the morning in his bed, praying from a Bible. The one request Integra had indulged him in was to acquire a copy of the Douay-Rheims Bible, and he clung to it as if it were his last attachment to the Catholic Church.

'For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me.'

He shut his eyes tightly, gripping the edges of the Holy Book.

'Thou hast prepared a table before me against them that afflict me. Thou hast anointed my head with oil; and my chalice which inebriateth me, how goodly is it…'

Integra had commanded that Anderson be brought up to her office. It would be just the Paladin, the two Vampires, and their master.

'And thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And that I may dwell in the house of the Lord unto length of days. Amen.'

He barely had the time to finish his prayer before the nurses brought in the wheelchair.

Briefly, he considered struggling against them. He had absolutely no desire to be brought under the judgment of this Hellish circus, Integra being the ringmaster of it all. If he had any strength left in him, he would have cleaved them all lengthwise, but as it was, the Paladin could barely lift himself up without assistance. Begrudgingly, he allowed them to help him up and into the chair, and down the corridors to his fate.

The woman's office was cold.

That was the only real way he could describe it. Anderson felt incredibly uncomfortable as the nurses wheeled him through the exceedingly tall French doors. They positioned him in front of the large oaken desk, almost as if he were prey being offered up to a predator. Despite the company he now held, the silence in the room was deafening and he longed for someone to say something. Integra merely sat behind the desk, a Nosferatu at either side, glasses glinting in a menacing fashion.

'What have ye brought me here for, wench?'

Alucard couldn't help but snicker.

'Patience, Anderson. I'll explain it soon enough.' She reclined in her chair, looking at the blonde man with what almost appeared to be concern. 'First, there are some things… some information you need to be aware of.'

Integra plucked a cigarillo from the box on the desk, deftly clipped the end of it, and lit it. Patiently, she took a draw, and exhaled. Her expression spoke volumes, but she instead tried to remain composed.

'When you decided to take my servant on in battle, you used the Nail of Helena on yourself, didn't you, Father.'

Anderson recoiled. Hearing any Protestant filth refer to him in that way was nauseating.

'Aye, I did.'

'Might I ask, then, how you came into possession of such a relic? I can't imagine that you just plucked it from an archive, and then went charging into battle, am I correct?'

Vivid emerald eyes flashed defiantly at Integra, and Icy blue retaliated.

'You don't have to hide any information, Alexander. If you recall, Iscariot has been decimated completely, and I assure you that Hellsing has no intention to plunder the Vatican for religious trinkets.'

The Paladin felt his heart jump into his throat. That's right… Iscariot is… is gone.

'Section III. Matthew. They're a bit like a museum. They needed approval from the Pope in order t'give me the Nail.'

Integra took another long drag of her cigarillo.

'Surely, they understood what using that Nail meant, correct?'

Anderson didn't reply.

'Tell me, Paladin.' Her tone darkened. 'It was suicide, wasn't it? They knew you wouldn't survive its use, and still, they allowed you to use it.'

The fire in his belly had been stoked, and the ex-Priest nearly launched himself out of his chair at her. If he could have made it more than a few steps, he would have strangled her, Monsters be damned. This was an outright insult to the Decisions of the Church. How dare she insinuate such things?

'I am an instrument of God's divine wrath and judgment, yeh stinking Protestant Filth,' He growled at her defensively. 'I am not some expendable soldier.'

Integra smirked. She was surprised at how quickly he caught on.

She was silent for a few moments, thinking about how to approach the situation. Eventually, she opened one of the drawers of the desk, and produced a file. It was thick, sitting at nearly an inch. She set her hand on top of it in an almost protective manner.

'This is you, in this file.' Her tone was deadly serious. 'Everything that you are - Everything that you think you are is in here, and you need to be made aware of it.'

Anderson had no earthly idea what it was that she was talking about. He knew who and what he was; a divine instrument of God, created by man. He was the Lord's right hand on Earth, and his mission was to purify and extinguish all that would challenge or tarnish the name of the Almighty. It had been ingrained in his head for years, for as far back as he could recall, and nothing would change that, especially not a little file.

'Alexander Anderson. Born 26 August 1962, Elderslie, County Renfrewshire, Scotland.'

She looked up at him briefly, and then back down at the file.

'Mother, Rebecca Anderson, née Shaw. Death, 1 September 1962. Cause; childbirth. Father, Malcolm Anderson. Death, 3 September 1962. Cause; suicide.'

The Paladin's eyes widened and he felt his fists shaking. How the hell had she found that information? After years and years of searching, he had never been able to uncover anything that personal, and now somehow, Integra Hellsing held his entire past in her hands. There was nothing more he could do but sit there in the wheelchair and listen to her prattle on, almost as though she were narrating to a classroom of bored school children. He felt sick to his stomach.

'...Enlisted in the 51st Infantry Brigade, Highland Division in November 1979.' Integra quirked an eyebrow and looked up at the ex-Priest in a somewhat bemused manner. 'Section-8 Medical Discharge received on 11 December, 1980. Reason; Mental instability.'

Anderson's emerald eyes immediately flashed towards Alucard, and the Vampire reciprocated the knowing expression as a wicked smile spread across his lips.

'Application for Seminary through the Diocese of Paisley submitted on 14 April, 1981. Three year tenure at the Venerable English College, Via di Monserrato, Roma, Italy... Holy Orders received on 23 March, 1894. Impressive, Anderson. Such a short tenure for such a young man.'

'Is that all yeh've got on me? Not much of it is new information, Hellsing.'

'I won't bother going through the pages and pages of detail in regards to your becoming a regenerator, you're obviously well aware of that. However, there is one last thing you should be made aware of.'

'There isn't a thing I'm not aware of, Babylon.'

'Isn't there?' Integra smirked at him only slightly, and then leafed through nearly fifty pages of information before she stopped and bookmarked the sheet with a white-gloved hand.

'Paladin Alexander Anderson, Dismissed from the Clerical State under the orders of Bishop Enrico Maxwell, 12 May, 1998.' The woman looked up at Anderson, gauging his reaction to the information. He maintained his stony exterior, though his bright viridian eyes flashed fire and contempt. Now was a good a time as any to hit him with the final blow.

'…Death Verified by the Holy Roman Catholic Church, 18 July, 1998.'

What! Death…? The Diocese thinks I'm dead? That's impossible.

'A lie, that's all that is, yeh wicked creature.' He grit his teeth tightly at her, fingernails digging into the thick leather armrests of the chair. 'Blasphemy – It's all that'll ever leave yer damned lips.'

'If you don't believe me, have a look for yourself.'

She lifted herself from her chair with delicate and self-assured grace, her eyes never leaving the Paladin's face. They stared at one another long and hard, one expression of victory and another of sickening defeat and realization. Gently, she extended a hand, offering Anderson the paper. He plucked it from her quickly and roughly, not bothering to offer thanks.

As his eyes scanned the sheet, they became wider, and his brow furrowed upwards, a forlorn expression of disbelief and grief. He must have read the one paragraph statement five times over before it finally hit him. Integra hadn't lied. It was true, right in front of his face in bold black and white. The Papal Seal with its interlocking gold and silver keys, Triple crown and Pallium solidified it. At the bottom of the sheet, in large block Latin, read 'Requiescat in Pace'. Reading that was like reading the punch line to a bad joke.

The Paladin sat there in disbelief, eyes cast downward. He felt as though his soul had been taken from him. His plan had been to escape the Hellsing compound when he was well enough, and he would have gone back to Rome to hopefully have his Priesthood reinstated. Now, there were no plans left. There was no hope, no light inside him, just absolute nothingness. He couldn't even form a sentence as he felt all courage and faith drain from his body.

'Understandably, you must be upset.' He could hear Alucard snickering under his breath as Integra spoke. 'We did quite a bit of digging to get our hands on this. Our intent is not to humiliate you.'

'It's my intent…'Alucard chided.

Integra shot him a deadly glare and he just grinned at her. Seras gave her master a disapproving look.

'We know what you do, Alexander. The two creatures behind me are more highly aware of it than any of the men in my regiment.'

Still, Anderson said nothing.

'What we are offering you is a chance to continue pursuing God's work. We are offering you the option to use the strengths you have alongside an organization that will only bolster your talents.'

It disgusted him. The information was simply too much for him to handle. Being abandoned by his Church and his Faith, the organization he had so faithfully served without question for fourteen years… and now his most bitter enemies were quite obviously attempting to take advantage of his fragile state. They were trying to corrupt him, and it was apparent especially in Alucard's demonic mannerisms. He could feel the vampire's aura surrounding him, and it made him ill.

The Paladin looked up at the platinum haired woman, staring her down defiantly. In his left hand, he clutched the declaration of his death.

'And what of these seals on my arms?' He questioned.

Integra smirked.

'The seals on your arms are something a bit like a tattoo. The 'ink' is pure vampiric blood – Seras', specifically. If you should choose to remain with the Hellsing Organization, they will become permanently affixed to your flesh once you are initiated, and you will learn to control your power, rather than letting it run amok without restriction like the Vatican did.'

Anderson's attention immediately snapped to the Police Girl, and she felt his gaze on her. He was staring at her in utter disbelief, and she turned away, more embarrassed than she'd ever been. She hadn't planned on letting the Paladin know of the hand she had in suppressing his powers and ensuring his survival, and she would have vastly preferred it if Integra hadn't said anything about it at all.

He did not look away from the Draculina.

'…And if I refuse yer offer?'

'Then the seals will be removed. We cannot guarantee the return of your power, however. And in addition to that, if we ever find you interfering in our operations in any way, you will be destroyed immediately. No questions asked.'

The grin on her lips broadened.

'Now that you have no attachment to the Church of Rome, there isn't much of a risk of starting a religious war if we kill you. I'd keep that fresh in your mind, Paladin.'

Still, he refused to look away from the young Vampiress. She glanced at him fleetingly, her deep Aqua eyes meeting his every few seconds. There was almost shyness in the way Seras looked at him.

'And this …creature. The Draculina. Why was it necessary for you t'use her blood?'

'She offered to. If not for her contribution, you wouldn't be alive right now. The medical team had attempted normal blood transfusions, but your body reacted adversely to them. They believe it was because of your regenerative qualities. Surprisingly, all it took was the application of the seals, and you started healing up straight away.'

The Paladin furrowed his brows and his glasses slipped down his nose. He couldn't comprehend the idea of the Vampiress having any interest in saving him. Demons were not meant to have consciences. Despite her unsettlingly human appearance, he willed himself to remember that she was just another unclean creature. Even more disturbing was the fact that his body had apparently accepted the Draculina's blood. That sickened him more than anything.

'…Bastards.'

Seras swallowed thickly and turned her eyes away from him. She knew that it was directed at her, more than the others.

'There is no time limit for you to make your decision, Alexander.' Integra folded her hands behind her back, and Alucard made his way to her side once again. 'I'll have the file sent to your room, and I'll have someone come to bring you back to the infirmary. This is not a choice to take lightly, and if you truly do consider yourself to be a man of God, you'll pray on it. Remember what we are offering you.'

She gave him a decisive glare.

'Alucard, Seras, Come. Let us leave him for the afternoon.'

Without much emotion or sympathy, she breezed past the Paladin with the elder Vampire in tow. Alucard lingered for but a moment, just to give the blonde man a taunting grin. Seras, however, found it difficult to move herself out of place.

'S-Sir Integra?' She said, her voice scarcely louder than a squeak. 'I'll bring Father Anderson back to his room. It won't be any trouble.'

Integra hesitated and turned, looking the Police girl over.

'Very well. Come, Alucard.'

Seras didn't bother to look at her Master. She could feel his seething glare inside her own mind, and knew that she'd get a thorough verbal lashing later for extending such cordiality to the Paladin. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it though.

Alexander hardly had time to protest the young Draculina's offer before the French doors closed behind him. They were alone once again.

Anderson had opened his mouth, primed to deliver a dissent that would make the Devil himself blush, but Seras quickly cut him off. She gathered the file in her arms, and walked it over to the incapacitated ex-priest. Timidly, she offered it to him.

'I'll take you back to the infirmary. I'm—I'm sorry you have to make this choice.'

Anderson had halted his speech and taken the file, all the while following Seras with his eyes as she kept her own affixed to the ground, doing her best not to catch his gaze. She moved around to the back of the chair and took hold of the handles, then turned him, and made for the door.

Neither party said a word to one another as they made their way back to the infirmary.

All the while, Anderson glowered at the Vatican Declaration of Death. If not for that painfully finite document, he still would have maintained his unshakeable faith in the Church of Rome. Now, he wasn't quite sure. The evidence that had been presented to him was just too solid, and for the first time in nearly fifteen years, he found himself questioning his faith, and it scared him. There were few things in this world that could truly shake the Paladin, demonic or not… but not knowing whether or not God was still on his side terrified him in a way he couldn't measure.

He set the paper down on top of the file and turned his wrists. Those seals were staring back at him in such a taunting way. They contained so many mixed messages. Partly, they made him believe that there just might be some good left in Seras, even though he wouldn't admit it even if threatened with death. That was something he'd keep to himself. And then on the other hand, he was disgusted with himself. He felt branded against his will, like cattle destined for the slaughter. He tensed his fists, watching the tendons beneath the symbols flex. He felt as though his mind would overflow if he thought about it for any longer.

When Seras reached the infirmary and Alexander's recuperation room, she gently helped him out of the chair and back into his bed. He accepted her support with little resistance, and even managed to mutter a bit of a muted 'thank you.'

'Father?'

He didn't respond.

'Listen, I know you don't want to be here. I know you hate us.' Her voice was soft and gentle.

Anderson managed to force himself to look up at her.

'But… You know, we do the same thing. We… we both fight for the same country. And you and I, we aren't that different.'

The Paladin frowned at her, but she continued.

'I really didn't get much of a choice either.' Seras bowed her head, thinking back to that horrible night in Cheddar. Thinking about how that 'Priest' had groped her and used her as a shield… that cowardly bastard. 'Alucard shot me right through my heart.' She put her hand up to her breast, remembering the searing pain of the bullet. 'He told me I could come with him, or I could die.'

He couldn't explain or prevent it, but Alexander felt a knot form in his throat.

'As an eighteen year old girl, I wanted to live. I didn't know it would be like this.' She gave a dark laugh. 'I never even had a boyfriend. Would you believe that?'

The ex-priest rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to look at her directly.

'Anyway, despite that, I'm proud of what I do, and Sir Integra is really kind to me. Master is too, most of the time. If nothing else, they've made me stronger.'

She sighed.

'Not all monsters are monsters.'

She lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. Anderson desperately wanted to reply with something insulting, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of a thing to say. Seras looked at him for quite a long time, searching his face for something other than disgust. It was difficult for her to tell what was going through his mind. She considered telepathy for a moment, but then remembered her promise to stay out of his head.

'Well then… afternoon tea should be ready in a bit. I'm sure someone will bring it to you. I've… got to get to bed though, so I suppose I'll be going now.'

She turned, ready to make her way to the door.

Anderson had tried to hold it back. He didn't want to say it. He would never have even fathomed that he had the ability to say such a thing to a creature of the night, but it came tumbling from his lips anyway, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. It was more than just a reflex, it was as though something had forced him to say it.

'Go with God, my child.'

A/N: Thanks for reading, really! I do appreciate the hits, I'm glad to know you all are interested in this little tale.

I'd like to clarify some things:

- The bit about Alex's birth and the death of his parents came to me because of the whole 'orphan' thing. He runs an orphanage, so I thought logically, he'd have an attachment to such an occupation thanks to the circumstances of his own childhood. As far as his hometown and what not, I spent a ridiculous amount of time researching accents and Anderson actually has a pretty accurate rendition of a Paisley accent. It's Scottish, that's for sure.

- The little exchange between him and Alucard after the mention of his military service is in regards to the scene in the Anime where he tries to commit suicide thanks to an ominously looming figure, which I assumed to be Alucard.

- The timing of his introduction to religion and his desire to be ordained a Priest was largely thanks to his experiences with the aforementioned creepy looming figure. His personality in the anime, manga and OVA are pretty much textbook overachiever, so I figured that three years in a seminary opposed to eight or nine seemed kind of appropriate.

- The dates listed for his defrocking and death, specifically the year, I decided to take from when the Manga was published. I figured it'd be a bit weird to be like, LOL IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. So yeah, that's the reasoning behind that.

Thanks for reading!