Captain Pip Bernadette

A/N: This one will be very quick, I just want to do some Pip POV...I may also do a small Molly POV but she'll be incredibly tricky...though if Im in the right mood I can write her perfectly, if I dont say so myself. Anyway...read on...

-&-

I've got to say: when Molly lays into someone, she doesn't let up. Zey've been dancing around each other, attacking and blocking fluently, for over 'alf an hour. I 'ave faith in her, she seems determined to win, though whether she will win against 'im I'm not so sure- she took quite a nasty wound to 'er side a little while ago.

So, 'ere I am, standing on zee terrace whooping like an idiot every time she—as Graham says—"stripes" zee monster. I don't really care about whether I win or lose my money; it was more a token of my saying I 'ad faith in Molly's ability even in her injured and stressed mood which she's been in for almost a week, than an actual investment. I haven't seen 'er eyes light up for a while, they glowed all fiery when she was dishing out punishment for Seras and me a while back, but other zan zat her eyes have been...Cold, patient, apprehensive and distant. Like she knew something bad was about to happen, but was waiting for it to attack her first rather zan face it head-on.

Graham hasn't been well, I've heard him coughing and I heard that Molly told him to see a doctor, consequently he did—and it ain't good. I look over to him now, he's been part of the gang almost as long as I 'ave and I can't really see any of our missions going with such good humour without him. Out of all of us, he has ze dirtiest sense of humour; whenever Seras or any of the other girls are out of sight he's ze one zat brings out ze dirty playing-cards and starts with a playful joke about two hookers standing on a street corner. He's probably told zat joke a million time, but somehow eet's always funny.

He's jumping up and down, being part of zee gang- he falters and grips onto his chest and my smile falters also. His eyes look around to see if anyone 'as noticed and I avert my eye and return my attention back to zee fight; it's like a guys' golden rule zat you ignore another guys illness, just as he does and don't ever act too concerned. Zee shouting and whooping stops for a moment and zen starts again as Molly and Alucard face each other at the stairs, Alucard saying something inaudible and as Molly circles him I see zat life in her eyes again and I can't help but smile.

Molly hates me, or at least is irritated by me, most other women just peg me as the disciplinarian-military-guy, but she knows about zat; about real war and it's ups and downs and all she sees is just me- a man. Miss Molly enjoys zee exercise, I think, enjoys running around and risking her head at every moment- if eat's how she gets her kicks I have no qualms, I get my kicks doing much zee same thing- zat's zee reason she does it...or maybe she's more like Alucard and just likes getting other people hurt.

The whooping stops and I wake up from my thinking enough to realise that Molly is on the floor, unconscious, and Alucard is sitting on a bench a few meters from her, "Looks like your hunch weren't so great, eh, Pip?" Graham laughs, counting his money as Seras sticks her head out through the door, "Who won?"

"Who else?" Graham cackled; pausing only to give a little cough as Perry and Craig looked on with a fleeting look of concern. Seras stuck her tongue out at me and gestured for me to go back into zee kitchen, I looked over my shoulder, pausing.

No, Molly was reckless, ruthless, hateful, permanently scared, but she hated being scared so she lashed out and covered it with rage and hatred and maliciousness. But, she did look magnificent doing it. An image of her lunging and succeeding in stabbing zee "vampire king" stuck in my head, but zen, seeing her on the floor, I frowned and moved towards zee banisters.

Alucard was looking directly at me, knowingly, a smirk at 'is lip—God, I hate him when he's all smug—didn't he even care that he might have hurt her? I shake my 'ead and follow Seras to the breakfast bar as zee rest of the guys hoot and holler down the hall towards the soldiers' quarters.

"Is she any good?"

"I reckon she gave Zee Big Guy a run for 'is money,"

"Really?" Seras moved over to the sink and rubbed her fingers over a drying wine glass lazily, she laughed suddenly, "Naaah, Master is too—"

"Ruthless? Cruel? Good at 'andling a broadsword." I growl the last word, wriggling my eyebrows. Seras pulls a face and throws a cloth at me, "C'mon, it's best zat a man handles his sword correctly—" Seras shook her head.

"Nope, nope, I'm not gonna take this from you! I don't want Molly to get pissed off and—" A scream echoed up to the house, reverberated against zee windows, chilled mine and probably Seras', blood and Doctor Fauster slipped through zee kitchen and open terrace door, dropping his kit on the floor and picking it up before sprinting down the lawn. I give Seras a quizzical look, maybe Molly was a sore loser and said something Alucard didn't like...

The screaming continued and Seras and I watched each other over zee table, what zee frig was goin' on? Zee screaming and screeching continues and Seras and I finally edge towards the door, zee breeze whistling through zee doorway and knocking free tendrils of my 'air away from my face. I can just make out the shape of Alucard and Izzy leaning over her, she fell silent. "Shit." I whispered, "They might need my hel—"

"Master is strong enough to carry her if that's what needs doing." Seras answered quietly, her eyes wide with concern, "She's been looking ghostly for days, what do you think it is?"

"Remember zat Ghoul Plague?" I ask, not taking my eyes off zee three figures on zee lawn, Alucard is holding her down, I can see zat, and Izzy is...what is he doing?

"Yeah..." Seras answers uncertainly, glancing at me.

"I reckon she might 'ave zat, or maybe...leprosy?"

"Nooo, leprosy can be treated so easily, she'd get that looked at. But the Plague...that might be it...unfortunate if it is, all the research on that was lost." I step out into zee night air, Seras following me, and I watch from zee banisters as Izzy is thrown back and Molly resorts to all fours and makes to pounce on him, Alucard catches her and slams her back onto zee floor. I hear the shouting and then the screaming returns and I turn away, watching as Alucard restrains her with perhaps a little too much force. "I can't watch..." Seras breaths, but doesn't move away.

"She's in pain...a lot of pain. She hardly flinches when she's shot, but now she's—"

"It must be agony, whatever it is," Seras gnaws her lower lip and disappears back into the kitchen, I glance over my shoulder to see zat her shoulders have drooped and she heads for zee living room.

Izzy lifts up her top and, I can't be sure, but it looks like her skin is black...I shake my head and I've made up my mind, I can't stand by and do nothing. I sprint down zee lawn, zee three figures getting bigger until I see her...my stomach flips.

The fair skin of her face is criss-crossed with black lines, blackened veins, her eyes are glowing pink and her head is thrown back in agony. "Jesus..." I gasp, "What can I do to help?" Alucard loosens his grip on her as her body falls against zee soil, clothes mucky with the grit and mud, Molly pants, sobs. "Please, Izzy...I don't care if you have to stick a million needles in me, make the pain stop!" I kneel down beside Izzy as he sorts through his kit and finds a syringe and a small bottle, probably a sedative or pain-reliever. "Roll her over, it's best if I get it into her spine," Alucard flips her over easily, Molly squirming and panting still, Izzy pushes in zee needle and she howls, he pushes zee plunger.

"Funny thing, I DON'T FEEL ANY BETTER!" She roars, she lashes out and hurls herself at Izzy and he pushes himself back and away from 'er, I grip onto her shoulders as Alucard holds her forearms, his face blank.

"Molly, c'mon, now, you better behave—"

"You're not my master! I don't have a maste—" She screams, zee screaming teeters off and she slouches forwards, still panting.

"That must be the morphine, c'mon, get her back to the infirmary." Izzy packs back up and sprints up zee lawn, zee vampire already ahead of him and I follow like a lost lamb. Really, zere is nothing I can do...I shrug and make my way back to my room for an uneasy night's sleep.

A/N: Not done yet! Not done yet! (You will enjoy this!)

Miss Molly "Blue"

It is such a strange feeling, not a good strange but strange nonetheless. I can hold myself together when I'm shot, stabbed, even when I'm bleeding to death from my throat, but this is...this is...excruciating...why should it feel this way?

Every vein in my body is coursing fire and brimstone, lumps of rock sticking against the sides until they boil holes into my body; I'm boiling from the inside! My eye-sight is so blurred, Alucard is in front of me, I know because I can still see his glowing white form—power emanating off in waves of pure white—and Izzy is doing something with a needle, that hurts enough! He mumbles something about my blood being the wrong colour, about not having enough plasma and my blood being too thick—my blood is always thick, I know this as I'm usually tending to my wounds myself. But I know what he means, it doesn't feel right, I can smell it, it's disgusting, the wound to my side, throat and cheeks, and anywhere else where Alucard struck me, are sticky with this syrup...this cursed slop! It's usually quite dense, as blood goes, but nowhere near like this, it usually smells awful to vampires, but not as rotten and disgusting and fowl as this.

There's another one, another male, come to enjoy the show?

My body is going through the change, mother warned me about this before her death, told me it wasn't going to be easy without her there, that I would need to find someone I trusted before it happened, someone who would tell me everything as it happens...

She said the change would be painful, but my body would be stronger and better afterwards, that I would be glad of it in the end, even though I may forget everything, even the fact that I once had a mother. She told me the signs: blackened veins, what appears to be bruising, aching limbs, headaches, wounds that heal ten times faster than usual, my eyesight getting blurred, deep exhaustion , a fever, feeling constantly cold or hot, old wounds opening up and throwing up—something I do only when poisoned with those foods.

I thought I would embrace it, but I was wrong, this is not something I could embrace. "Make it stop!" I scream...did I scream something more? My head is spinning, my body detaching itself from its mind and I feel Alucard turning me over and an awful pain in my spine, running straight up into my head and behind my eyes. My throat hurts.

I'm so disorientated. I feel like I'm moving, but I don't feel my limbs working, am I floating? Flying? I squint to see Alucard's angular features above me, he's carrying me? "What are you doing? No...I...can...can I?" Can I walk? "I think they've cut off my legs..." I whisper, panic sets in...How will I ever fight those bastards without legs? The heartbreaking image of me rolling around in a wheelchair like an elderly woman seeps into my head...It's painful thinking about it- no, no-no, that's just the pain.

It's building up again, with the floating feeling comes the agony again and I know I'm scratching at him, telling him to let me go- the contact on my skin is too much.

Izzy shines a light in my eyes—searing pain.

My knuckles hurt, someone yells.

My wrists hurt, someone's holding me down? "Keep still, Blue, I don't want to hurt you anymore than necessary."

"Hurt me? You can't hurt me more than it hurts now!" I screech. My throat hurts. Why do I hurt so much? Colours are blurred and I can hear someone talking to me...the pain is going...I can feel my head again, I have a head? This is not at all ordinary, I'm usually so much more collected, calculating...but maths hurts—too much thinking, knowing, calculating and scheming—God it hurts to even think words and phrases let alone scheming!

I feel cold, the pain along my arms and stomach and legs has gone almost completely and I look down and I see the black of my skin, "Jesus Christ...I have no idea what this is..." Someone else.

"T-i-e h-e-r w-i-t-h t-h-e l-e-a-t-h-e-r st-ra-aa-a-a-a-ps," I know that is Alucard, but why is he stuttering? Like a preternatural echo, a singing frog in his throat. That is not an attribute he usually has, is it? No, no, of course not! Why...how? My throat is sore. "I'm g-l-a-d y-o-u h-a-v-e s-t-o-p-p-e-d screaming, Blue."

"I'm screaming?" I ask, "No, no...this is all wrong..." My eyes come back into focus and I watch as Doctor Hayward ties my wrists in these strange beige straps...bad memories, I can feel bad memories in my head, but I don't know where from, "Not the straitjacket!" I whisper, my voice sounds alien, they've stolen my voice too! My soul and my voice! My sanity! Now my throat hurts more.

"We're not stealing anything, Molly, just hold on; I'm trying to figure out what's wro-"

"Bastards! I'll kill you all!" How strange that I should feel happy at a time like this? I want to hurt them...hurt them all, why do they hurt me? I'll hurt them back, that idea creates a euphoria- getting even, getting revenge for this agony! I jump forwards at the nearest person, that cruel person in red. The bonds hold me back, but not for long; the metal bars, like prison, I hate being imprisoned, come out of their lock and I lunge at that man, whoever he is. I feel a stinging pain in my hand and see blood, blackened and poisoned, dripping over the bedside table- I knocked over something. Break things! Yes! Break them!

The pain is back, "I remember." I gasp, falling back on the pillows, "When the circle is flooded, then shall the sin be washed away with the punishment." I gag slightly as I look down at my chest. Over my heart is a circular patch of white, my skin! My friend I haven't seen you in so long...and then...there are lines criss-crossing the space quick and as I watch in horror and I realise...

The blackened colouring roles in like fog, engulfing my heart and so the pain engulfs me.

I know I'm screaming. I know I'm shrieking. I know I'm shaking. I know I'm hurting anyone who comes near me and I know someone is holding me down and taking each blow...but it doesn't feel like I am.

I've accepted the pain as much as I can, but I cannot cope with it, I've accepted that it hurts, and it will hurt for a few hours, but I don't want to accept. The pain is enough to drive Jesus to Satan and Satan himself to God's feet! Lucifer is standing on my chest, yes, that bearer of light, stands there causing more pain, such pain, it makes me feel sick!

Only it's not just a feeling, I feel bile crawl up my throat and then crawl back down until I start coughing up the damn stuff. That hurts as well..."Bugger, I don't know what we can do save keep her dosed up with morphine and hope for the best..."

"Do I have to stand here all night holding her?"

"It would be appreciated, Alucard, I know you have better things to do, but I fear for her safety and ours."

"Understandable." A strange cold feeling runs through my veins from my...is that an arm? I feel better, for a moment at least; the pain is gone...or dormant. My visions clears for a moment, the man in red stands over me, piercing red eyes hard, not at all soft, but somehow—to me—welcoming. It's better if someone has hard eyes, if they have a disposition that is coarse, you don't get attached as easily and it hurts less when you or the other one part ways. I can remember eyes like that; I know I didn't miss him though!

"Hello." I whisper, entranced with those eyes...well, what a queer feeling, someone is sticking their fingers in my skull and rooting around...they used to do that, a lot! Now, what did I do to stop that feeling? I can't remember...and memories play behind my eyes, my thoughts echo for a second party. "Aaaah, are you my master?" I ask...master, I had one of those, didn't I?

"No, Blue, I'm not. I'm...a friend,"

"Friend? Are you my friend or am I yours...there's a difference, did you know?"

"I think it's a mutual understanding." I nod...

"With eyes like that you could have any girl flat on her back." I chortle...why would I say that? I never say that—crude, rude, crude, rude, it's rude and crude! And lewd! His eyes open wider for a split second and then I hear a laugh, "If this is how you are when pain is inflicted upon you, maybe I should rip you apart more often."

"Did you do this?"

"No, but I don't think I'm helping," I gasp.

"I know!"

"Know what?"

"That's besides the point. I know..." I sigh, content in the euphoria of the freedom of that dreaded pain, "I could sing to you," I answer at a whisper, already I can hear a tune in my voice. My head is running away from me, dizzying thoughts chortling and cackling at me...but I want to sing, why not sing to this saviour of mine?

"Why would you come to that conclusion?"

"Because, you seem sad, are you sad? I see sadness, you're in my head, hmm? So now I shall visit yours—" The probing feeling disappears instantly, got him! "I shall sing..." I start with a hum, and then sing as loud as I want, pausing to giggle at appropriate points. I remember singing with mother at our hotel as we cooked or cleaned, she was a wonderful singer, I am nothing compared to her. She told me she sang at the Teatra alla Scalla, in Italy...I'd love to go there one day.

I stop singing the sad song she sang to me when I was little and sang, instead, a happy one, one that brought back imagery of sunflowers, daisies and fields of golden corn...Home, maybe? I change my mind again, and sang a lullaby...no...I'll sing the happy one...Laughter echoes in my ears as I fall silent and look up, wide-eyed, at the jester. "Yes?"

"Your mind is not very articulate this evening,"

"Is it not? Hmmmm. Not at all...no—" The pain came back, "Get off," I say, gagging, he lets go enough for me to fall over the side-bar and empty the contents of my stomach onto the floor. Someone shouted disgust from behind me as someone rubbed my back and squeezed my shoulder, "I'm dying..." I gag again and throw up more...ink? It looks like ink...A Japanese ink drawing! The taste is...nice...I like the taste, it's the taste of darkness mixed with light—dazzling. Is that my blood? The pain is back, every single muscle, every single vein every inch is agony and I feel myself scream, I can hear it, my vision goes black. "My god! My eyes!" I scream, I can't see...I have no legs and I'm blind. "Kill me now, I'm useless!" I scream again. This pain...please...anyone...make it stop.

"I don't understand, I gave her morphine, enough to make her completely docile." Oh, yes because this is docile! Please! I feel fingers in my skull again. The pain...it will go, you are calm, you are silent, you are free from all agony. No, I'm not, I will never be free from this...I feel the cold up my arm again- a useless limb that trembles and convulses of its own accord. "I've upped her morphine to as much as she can take, but it's not helping!"

"How could it not help? Morphine is strong and...unless..." The other stranger paused and then added, "Unless the R-Omni cells are reproducing and decreasing in the mesocortical pathway, making her violent and emotional and the glutamate receptors where, no doubt, her brain then creates the illusion that her whole body is in pain."

"So, what can we do to fix this?"

"Nothing...the drugs won't help and all we can hope is that her body can take all the pain."

My body is rejecting something, it isn't a change! It's rejecting...the bite! But I was bitten so many times before and this didn't happen, maybe the virus lies dormant and then when it has enough motivation it wakes and tries to ruin me. I'm turning into a monster, and yet my body is fighting it, comforting, that.

"She's rejecting R-Omni." Came a voice.

"R-Omni? Are you certain?"

"Positive! If you want me to be certain let me take a blood sample from yo-"

"I don't think so, Doctor," A chuckle to counter that icy tone of the red-man beside me.

"How is it possible that she could fight R-Omni? How could her body recognise the cells?"

"Her body has natural dormant cells of it, so that her body recognises an active strain of it, the dormant cells are then awakened to double the white-blood cells, but her WBC count is through the roof anyway, and they battle together unless there is a lot of the active strain, in which case the dormant strains then work with them and the WBCs are turned also and then rejected by the body—hence the throwing up blood. Because there is such a fight between the virus and her body her blood turns the colour of the R-Omni cells which need no oxygen and the vessels rupture and heal continuously making her skin turn the black of the cells." I...I don't understand...what?

The pain sets in again, this time so much worse and my heart feels...this is bad. "She's going into tachycardia." The first stranger says as I carry on screaming; now even scratching at the flesh over my heart—a heart? Why have one! "It's the pain; I think it's best we induce a coma, now." The second doctor ignored the first, as the sound of clattering and bleeping screamed in my ears. "C'mon, we need to steady her heart before she dies, gimme those paddles,"

"That's. Not. Good?" I ask the man standing over me. My voice was staccatoed. He's still holding me as two cold slightly sticky things are put on my chest and then—oh, my god! What are they doing to me! I scream as a bolt of lightning hits me, but my heart feels better, just the aching and the burning...

Blurry again. Loud. colourful. Quite scary...I don't see the males...I don't see them, save the white glow above and the green blurs to my side, bustling around and yet everywhere else is colour. But still there was that brilliant white glow as a backdrop of a mass of red—captivating. "Hate this...the pain...the change...You must tell me everything." I order.

"Pardon?"

"I might not remember; you have to tell me everything!" The pain is getting worse, I can't take it. I must have voiced this as the two strangers set about sticking needles in me, chattering to each other in a fluent scientific tongue that I could not fathom. Please...please...The pain will be gone soon, try to calm yourself.

Blurry. Black. "I...I can take it...I can..." I mutter to myself, taking in deep gulping breaths like a fish being put back into water. I can...

"She's not responding to the induced coma...she's not..."

"I have no idea what to do with this one, Izzy. I've been a doctor here for a year and a surgeon and doctor of humans for six and you for four here and four out there, between us we cannot make head nor tail of this...noise, I think it's best we just—"

"Surely you are not thinking of giving up, she is quite clearly in agony." Comes the silky voice from above. Yes! I am...But I can fight it! I can! I will! I MUST! If I do not, then, surely, I do not disserve to live through this anyway?

I feel the bile again, I nudge the man standing over me gently as I gag, he lets go of me and I feel that stench-ridden ink rise from the very depths of my body and fly out through my mouth. I laugh weakly. If it means ejecting every last molecule out of my body, then so be it. After the second heaving, one of the strangers placed a bucket underneath me; or some kind of bowl and, in the intervals from the sickness, takes samples. "Peter, this is- she's throwing up her blood!"

"Throwing up blood? Has her stomach ruptured?"

"Bloody hell, maybe we should get an MRI scan..."

"No, she wouldn't stay still long enough and she won't let the drugs take over,"

"I can take it." I whisper, nodding. I smile as light starts to blind me, my eyes...are they back? I pictured flowers blooming in the empty eye sockets. "I will be fine." Sight is distorted; it is there, but, like a new-born baby, everything is not clear. The third dimension is inconceivable to my infant eyes, colours are blurred and smeared across an otherwise clean canvas, but then there is that red—ike a blood stain. "How long?"

"Seven hours," I laugh dryly at his reply. An eternity.

"The pain will go...it will...but it'll be back..." I'm right, the pain is going, but still there is my throwing up and I can feel each wound on my body re-opening to bleed out the evil blood, can feel my body weep with exhaustion, "So tired." I whisper.

"Sleep." Came the simple answer from above. And, low, came the sweet chortle of demon-angels as she doth walk towards hell ignorantly. Piercing through clouds of ignorance and arrogance came the spikes of wisdom and the porcelain fingers of cherubs and angels—now charred by the evil beneath.

Verse and intelligence, a language that doesn't seem as painful anymore, comes to my mind and I create and spin as I want and please in my sanity. There he is, in the stead of a guardian, a demon who hath grown his angel wings for this fateful day, who hath shaken off his matted cape of fur and black smoke to don a white robe, perhaps, as a child, I am in the midst of a great pretend and there, beneath the hem of that soft gown, lurks the coiled smoke curls waiting to creep around my throat and squeeze life and virginity out of me. To take everything I am, virgin and flesh and blood.

Is it not a virgin's blood that tastes most sweetly? That is most dear? Is it not my very soul? Blood. Innocent, unused, ignorant to lust and carnal desire that runs through these veins that these monsters wish to sup? I am far from carnal desire, it is repugnant, therefore my blood must be so sweet to them that it burns their tongue and bellies into ash; and the stench, surely it is only disgusting to them because of the thickness of the goodness. But, this vanity is far profound, nay, it is not the goodness they smell but the rot of bitterness! Of lost loved-ones (but I cannot love) and the fire that burns as hot coals in my sockets, alas! It was not the sickness that took my eyes, moreover that the coals finally burnt out! And as liquid brimstone in my belly...so, in deed, the pain of brimstone in my veins is simply my vengeful belly polluting what's left of me?

There's laughter above me and I realise those porcelain fingers were not cherub's fingers at all, but the gloved fingers of the demon masquerading as guardian, so what titanic figure in white gowns stands before me now? Is it the infinite being, God, warning me of my trail to hell? And those gloved fingers above are simply to peel me away from the warnings to cast me back into the fire, my very own stomach, is where he shall lie me. "Your mind...so strange when it is this open to me."

"Perhaps it is not my mind that is strange, more that it is everyone else's; maybe I'm the only sane and intelligent one amongst you..." As soon as it leaves my lips I regret saying anything, "How conceited and pretentious!" I sigh, "I am insulting you, it is probably I who is crazy,"

"Oh, I take no offence to being implied as quite the mad-man, I've been known to dance between the borders of sanity and insanity.," I hear the inkling of a smile in his voice.

"Have you now?" I chortle slightly, "Salsa? Waltz? Tango? Carmagnole?"

"An insane mix of them all, I should think. Well, a mixture of the war-anticipating tribal dances to the supposedly sophisticated waltz of a wealthy gentleman."

"Gentleman? Don't make me laugh. Men are rats. All of them are viruses, we need them for their seed and that is all,"

"The world would be pretty boring without men though, don't you think?"

"The world is still too male-dominated. I walk in streets and see mothers coddle their sons while happily watch their daughters take sweet things from strangers. Have seen women turned down for jobs at management positions simply because they lack a penis, and what is a penis if not a useless half limb with nothing but sex on its agenda." He laughs louder and I flinch, "Loud, so loud,"

"You hate men that much?"

"I find them useless until they are useful."

"You don't trust them?"

"Certainly not! I trust no one unless given a reason to."

"Do you trust me?"

"I trust that you have the same agenda as I, or incredibly similar. I trust that your shots are true, that you are capable in battle, that you are a lone wolf, and a dangerous wolf at that. I understand and trust that if I were to vex you, you would make short work of me." I gasp; pain gets me in the stomach. My body is exhausted, damp with perspiration and blood, screaming for rest. I see the orange circle below me and let my stomach empty itself into the black and orange thing below me, the floor is stained with my blood, the bucket the same.

The pain is back. Oh, Lord, have mercy! The pain builds from aches to a fire to a roaring furnace of agony in every molecule of my body, I feel that the sheets around me are damp and looking around me I see black in my hazy, bright vision, I'm bleeding. "She's O-negative, we can give her a transfusion, that may help her," comes a voice and few moments later I feel a strange buzzing feeling in my body. The pain dies, and the buzzing takes over, I feel incredibly rotten, I'm floating.

"Almost there, Little Blue, almost well again."

"Yes." I gasp, closing my eyes as I feel tears, unwanted, awful things, drip down my face slowly, the angle of my lying position allowing them to pause at intervals.

"I've taken another sample, Miss Molly, and I can roughly calculate that it will take you another, oh, seven or so hours to get back to good health." I whimper. That's a long time.

The buzzing is gone, replaced with the agony again. I let the cacophony of screaming begin again, only I don't think I can create a sound anymore, thrashing as best I could beneath the blood stain above me, a smeared face watching me. Yes, the clouds were stained with blood, the clouds opening up to reveal long white fangs and the gloved fingers sought me out and pulled me up and up into hell, chaos and agony.

The sky was a vast violet, the moon a halo of cream—too pleasant for hell—and the stars were...

Deception!

... hellhounds, pouncing upon each other, ripping each other apart. The creamy white turned to me and it was an eye! The vast purple—Beelzebub! A giant minion of Lucifer himself! The hellhounds his little parasites, living off the blood remaining on his flesh: an endless feast. And yet, I lie here, thinking that, when actually those gloved fingers are holding me down on earth as the real demons try to drag me off, I had no justice in personifying my pain as Alucard, he was my deliverer for now, a matron delivering this new, helpless infant into a new world and no doubt he would tell me anything if I were to forget, or would he?

Suddenly my trust vanishes and I am myself again, untrusting and no longer disillusioned by supposed kindness. After all, if I die—resorting to the less personal reason for keeping me safe or telling me anything- they would have to find their own contacts, their own way into the underworld and in that, I was one of Gabriel's seraphim running from one realm to the other, delving into the coils of black smoke to bring back the holy grail or anything else he so desires...No, I cannot ascertain that this 'guardian' of mine is a trustworthy seraphim, that he will delve into the heart of the smoke to find my holy grail and lay it before me; after all, I was not His Gabriel.

A/N: I'd just like to point out that if that seems very jumpy it was meant to be, she's in pain and slightly delirious, she starts to turn more Molly-ish near the end

(Yes, that is how Molly thinks, how many classics must she have read to think like that? how many must I have read to be able to write like that? SQUEEE I'm so happy with those last paragraphs, very wordy and probably boring for you, but thoughtful for me. I LOVE the ending of this chapter, if you get that I used the holy grail as a metaphor for her memories and Gabriel as Integra then well done lol).

R-Omni is short for Remdiomnis, which is the scientific name for vampire blood, lol. I think my Pip POV was a little iffy, but tell me what you think! I thought I'd add in Molly's singing as that is one of her best characteristics- her voice, I imagine, is amazingly beautiful and lyrical. But , tell me what you think!! (I wrote this too quick, it's still 19th) sooorry, marie! :S

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR BEING SO NICE AND REVIEWING!!

B/N: Now….I know that I only ever put beta notes on Tattoo, but….GODDAMN, THIS WAS AN AMAZING PIECE OF LITERATURE! My God, Beth. I was freaking breathless. This was simply amazing. Just…my God. I can't recover. So amazing. Molly's POV was so…ACK! And the end of this chapter was stunning. My God, Beth. You win the prize.

A/N2: Mariiiiie tears of joy HUGGLES! Honestly though, TEARS OF JOY! hugggggggggles!