Chapter 7: Flood

Calm the storms that drench my eyes

And dry the streams still flowing

Cast down all the waves of sin

And guilt that overthrow me…

Rip awoke to find that the manor and her reunion with her Sire was not a dream. She almost dared not to hope for it, in that moment that she awoke, still in the gray of sleep, dared not to open her eyes, lest they reveal the cold dark of her bomb shelter prison. However, when she finally managed to convince herself to do so, she was met by the sight of the warm, welcoming room. She repeated her actions of the previous day: washed, dressed, then left the room, in search of her Sire. She did so quickly, and after a quick breakfast, she found herself whisked off by Alucard for "duty."

"By the way, I think you should know," Rip looked up intently at her Sire, "You've got a little 'sister.'" He smirked.

"A what?" Rip replied, rather puzzled. They were approaching the docking bay now, where the soldiers were lined up in formation, doing weapon checks and bantering quietly amongst themselves.

"Master!" came a shout from the crowd, and a thin, bubbly girl came running up to her and Alucard. She had bright red hair and pale white skin. The contrast made her look rather severe. She would have likely intimidated Rip, had she not been grinning like a fool.

"Police Girl, this is your big sister, Rivenna. Rivenna, this is your sister, Serras." The girl bobbed a curtsy as best as she could while carrying a large gun and an ammo case.

"'Ello!" she said cheerfully, if not a bit shyly. Rip eyed the girl. She was short for someone who was supposedly full grown, and far too perky-looking to be a vampire. Light of eye and personality, she walked with a skip. She was most certainly not the "sister" she had expected. "I didn't know I had a sister!" she smiled. Alucard nodded, and turned away.

"You two get to know each other. I've got some matters to attend to." He walked away, leaving the two girls standing alone.

"So, how old are you?"

"In vampire age, or physical age?"

"Either, both." She grinned insipidly.

"Well, I am sixty-five in vampire years and…"

"Sixty-five! You don't look a day over 15!"

"Most likely not. I was changed when I was nine."

"Nine! Why so young!"

Rip twitched slightly. "Well, it was either die by his hand or the Nazis'."

"Goodness." She shook her head.

"I was prisoner in Auschwitz."

"Really?"

Rip nodded.

"That's horrible."

Rip sighed. Serras, apparently unaware of the seriousness of the subject, began to ramble about das Millennium and fighting them, and how several of the members met their fate at "Master's" hands. Rip rolled her eyes, and nodded periodically as Serras babbled on. A good forty-five minutes passed while Serras continued her summary of the battle. Fortunately there was a roll call, and Serras was pulled away from the conversation. Rip heaved a sigh of relief. Had the girl not been a vampire, she would have probably eaten her. She watched her trot off, her skirt far too short for "field duty." Rip shook her head and laughed to herself. I have a very strange family.

"What do you think, little one?" She flinched slightly at the pet name. Apparently this was a new habit of his.

"Ja, I think her boobies have had a nulling effect on her head, and her skirt is too short, but besides that, she seems, well…. Edible, I suppose, and, um, nice."

He grinned. "Good. You'll be working with her quite a bit, if things go as planned." Rip withheld a snort. "Are you ready for your first mission, little one?"

"I wish you would not call me that." She made a slightly pouty face, and tried desperately to cover it up. She didn't want him to think it bothered her as much as it actually did. He laughed, then grinned his insane grin.

"All right then, bite-size. Shall we get going?"

Days faded into weeks which turned quickly into months. She hardly noticed the passage of time or the changing of seasons in Hellsing Manor. Her time there was pleasant, and passed with little trouble, though all she had known of life for sixty-some years had been death, pain, and horror, so it was not hard to feel safe. She found herself well fed, and no longer tired, as well as relatively content. But something nagged her. After a few years of having been in the Hellsing house, a restlessness stirred in her. She often caught Alucard and Integra in secret embraces, not doing anything particular, just… holding each other. Serras had the attention of the entire 3rd and 1st squadrons, and half of the 2nd's. The rest were either straight women or gay men. None of them looked at Rip, however. They never saw her as an object of lust like Serras was, never saw her as an object of leadership, like Sir Integra. Never really saw her at all. On a late night, when the pulling was particularly strong, she went to her Master's chambers.

"Sire?" She knocked softy.

"Come in, little one." She opened the door and stepped into the candlelit room. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair, upholstered in a horrid red velvet. Before him on the table sat a glass, and lay a knife. "Come sit." He patted his lap. She climbed up on his knee and felt very small indeed, and he lay his hands on her shoulders, resting his weight on her. "What do you want, little one?" She sat utterly still for a moment, thinking intensely.

"I don't know. I feel it inside me, but I don't know what it is. Like I need to go somewhere. I thought I was homesick at first, but…"

"But?"

"But now, I don't know. I don't think I want to go home to Germany. I don't want to live the memories over during the day as well as the night…" Her tone became hushed at her confession of nightmares. "I think I want a companion. Like you have Integra… someone to keep me and to hold me and to love me."

Alucard chuckled softly. "Do you think Integra my master feels that way about me?" Rip looked up into his eyes, violet meeting crimson.

"Doesn't she? I mean…" Alucard eyed her. "I mean… I've seen you hold her. I know she's cold in front of people, but I thought…."

"Thought she might be different in private?" He laughed. "Sir Integra van Helsing is the Snow Queen, the Ice Bitch. She melts for no one. Especially, she often reminds me, not for the likes of me." Alucard hissed. Rip sat puzzled for a moment. She had been so sure that they were close.

"I dunno. I still like the idea of having someone to hold me and such."

He laughed. "That's very quaint, little one. Very quaint." He paused for a moment, seemingly on the edge of words, then discarded them to pick up the glass and take a sip of the dark liquid it held. Rip wrinkled her nose as the scent of bitter licorice overtook her. Absinthe, she thought. They sat several moments more, no words passing between them, but rather, in an exchange of thoughts. A conclusion had come, and they, once more without words, stood to act. He took the knife from the table and opened his vein to her. She hesitated for a moment, as the thick, dark fluid welled up and threatened to spill over his ivory skin. She placed her lips to the wound, and drank deeply. An eternity passed between them, and, suddenly, violently, he pulled away, leaving her thirst half-quenched. "Sleep now. For you will leave me and this place in the morrow." She collapsed onto the bed, dark waves of sleep washing over her.

I am a fool for letting her go. And even more of a fool for not turning her on Integra, Alucard sulked. Four hundred-some years of not giving a damn, and here he was, being mushy over a childeling vampire. Granted, she was HIS childeling, but that shouldn't affect the situation. He had killed childer before. He'd stood by and watched while Lucy Westenra was staked by van Helsing and his crew, he'd allowed his only son to run off, not to be seen for years, and then nearly beaten him to death when he dared to return. She should be no different, he growled. I could have Integra van Helsing any damn night I please. I'm just toying with her. I don't need Rip to disable her to get at her, I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. This is just a way to pass time, to entertain myself. Rip's words about intimacy and love bit at him. This is ridiculous. He left the library and headed outdoors. He took a breath, taking in the scent of night, of lilac, and the faint scent of Integra, which drifted down from her open windows. He smiled. What a beautiful night. A perfect night for a walk. He turned on his heel and went back into the Manor. But tonight, I will not walk alone.

- end chapter 7 -