A/N: I've finally begun work on my actual novels. But I seriously want to know where everyone went. Is it school or something. I understand. I'm in school myself, but I still make time to write. I just wish I knew what happened. It's kind of depressing. Anyway, this story's about half done, now. Not much further to go. I can't believe it's been over two years since I started writing this series.
Twenty-Four
By some miracle, they made their way onto the train bound for the port of France where their only mode of transport was a cargo ship bound for Bristol. It would be a day's journey and Wynter despaired over it the entire train ride, sitting beside him and biting her fingernails in her anxiety. Partly out of irritation, Anderson snatched her hands multiple times to stop her from fidgeting and biting.
"Come on, I regenerate in seconds," she hissed.
"That's no' the point; it's annoying,"
"Leave me alone. You're not the one who will have to stow away in a crate with a bag of French soil," she snapped in hushed tones.
"It's oon'y ae day, Wynter. Ye could make it fine wi'oot ae bag o' soil," he said.
"But I don't handle ships well," Wynter muttered.
"Ye'll be fine," he growled.
"But—"
He fixed her with a serious stare, "Wynter, Ah promise ye're going t' be fine,"
Her expression wrinkled in pent-up worry, but she leaned back in her seat and folded her hands in her lap over the bag that held her old clothes. While in Rome, she'd used some money she had with her to purchase a simple outfit in order to travel less conspicuously. Her outfit now consisted of a light purple cloth skirt and sandals with a plain white dress T-shirt and a wide-rimmed sunhat. Her flowing black hair had caught the attention of the store owner, who insisted rather forcefully that she braid it, so Wynter grudgingly consented. It now draped over her shoulder and trailed across her lap with a ribbon matching her skirt holding the ends together. She played with her braid absently.
Anderson hadn't recognized her at first when she came out of the shop, looking a little more than pleasantly peeved. Since she usually appeared morose and somewhat scary dressed either in solid black pants and long sleeved black shirt or that weird cloak and shawl, seeing her looking like any ordinary Italian girl threw him off guard slightly. He'd had to double check that it really was her before revealing any information that would completely terrify a regular human. Even the occasional times he'd seen her wearing that white summer dress and matching hat, she'd still carried a bleak and dark aura about her behind her oddly cheerful outlook. Being outfitted so casually now just didn't seem normal for her. But strangely enough, it was a look she pulled off rather well. Just being plainly polite, he had to admit that she was rather beautiful. Being a vampire, he didn't suppose she took such things seriously. Since she couldn't remember her previous life as a noble, appearances clearly held little to no interest for her. It was a wonder she'd endured the braid this long.
"Sae what dae ye plan t' dae with those clothes ye bought?" he asked.
"I'll probably give them to Sasha or I'll donate them. I certainly have no use for things like this," Wynter grumbled, picking at her collar with distaste.
"Why no'?"
"Being dressed so...so...daintily like this makes me feel far too vulnerable. I can't stand it. I'm a powerful vampire; I shouldn't dress like some teenage girl,"
Anderson sighed and shook his head, "Wynter, faur a' appearances, that's exactly what ye look like," he grumbled.
"I hate looking so young. When Alucard turned me, I wish I'd been a little older and more refined. I wish I could have at least been in my early twenties, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five, something like that. But I can't easily tell those idiots in my neighborhood that,"
"What's tha' supposed t' mean?"
"Now and then, I get dumb little offerings from boys in my area. Once in a while, I'll humor the poor sap. Then I'll always lay on that corny line "maybe we should just be friends", just at the moment that they think they're getting somewhere," she said with a grin. She chuckled, "Frail human minds are fun to mess with,"
"That's awfully cold," he pointed out blandly.
"True, but it's so much fun. Oh, don't give me that look; you mess with vampiric minds right before you slaughter them. The only difference is that I don't kill my victims. Besides, I really have to work at it to mess with you. You're not exactly the same as those poor, dumb dorks I tolerate. You're not nearly so easy to get to,"
"Thank the Lord faur that," Anderson muttered, "But it's t' be expected, Ah guess,"
"Why's that?"
"Ah'm ae good deal older than most o' those kids,"
"And that's probably why I enjoy your company. You're a mature individual that I can strike up a grasping conversation with. Your interests lie over many expanding horizons. Oh, that reminds me; how old are you anyway? Since this so-called God given technology seemingly stops you from aging, you could be anywhere on the human lifespan,"
"Take ae guess," he said. She could have sworn that he was messing with her. She knowingly took the bait and frowned, studying him.
"Hmm," she said, "You look anywhere from your early to mid-thirties to early forties,"
"Ah took part in the military when Ah was twenty-eight," he said, "The implants took aewhile t' completely take o'er and mah aging ceased at this point, the age Ah was then,"
"So you're a few years older than twenty-eight. This would place you anywhere around...thirty-two years of age, probably. But it probably took effect any number of years ago, meaning that it could have doubled since then. Therefore, you're under the same time paradox that I am!" she exclaimed.
He appeared slightly uncomfortable, but nodded stiffly, "Ye're right," he said blandly.
"Okay, I'm right. So then what age does that place you at? I have no way of knowing when you were changed into whatever the hell you are now, so I can't guess,"
He hesitated before telling her. Wynter groaned, "You know, usually it's the girl who's hesitant about revealing her age," she grumbled.
"Ah resent that,"
"Big deal. Just tell me,"
He muttered something to himself, "Ah was frozen at thirty-two, like ye seid," he told her, "But mah true age is actually...sixty,"
Wynter just blinked, "Woah, so you're closer to me than I thought," she said, "That's not really bad, you know. I don't see why you're reluctant to say it,"
"Ah doon't like answering questions," he said.
"I see. I suppose it would raise a few eyebrows if ordinary humans found out. But how do you keep people from figuring it out where you work?"
"The kids ne'er really pay attention," he explained, "And they usually faurget once they're adopted. Most o' the others knoo,"
"And what about those two? Oh, what are their names again? That quiet one and the one who's kind of, well, nuts,"
"Heinkel Wolfe and Yumie Takagi," he said, "Yeah, they knoo. Heinkel especially,"
"Why's that?" Wynter asked. He suddenly seemed rather distant, clenching his fists. He sighed, "Heinkel is the most likely candidate t' replace meh," he said, "Even Ah cannae last faurever. The implants migh' last anywhere from ae few decades t' ae few centuries, even. Nae one really knoos. The oon'y certain thing is that someday, mah oon body will fail meh and Heinkel will take o'er,"
"But Anderson, everyone else this technique was tried on has died," Wynter pointed out, "And from what we understand, it's virtually impossible to predict whether it will work or not,"
"Ah knoo!" he practically yelled, causing a few people to turn and stare at them curiously. Anderson ignored them. He glanced over at Wynter, who surprisingly, seemed somewhat hurt.
"I'm...I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I didn't mean to upset you. I guess you care about her a lot, huh?"
"A' right, two questions," he said, "Hoo dae ye knoo who she is and hoo dae ye knoo she's ae girl? Even Ah've ne'er understood why she insists on dressing like ae boy," he grumbled.
"I've met her on occasion. She's the same as you, in that she comes to Bristol to hunt us down sometimes. I must say, she's quite the interesting opponent. But from the standpoint of one who's spent decades studying humans, it's fairly obvious to me that she's female,"
"Hm," Anderson mumbled, "Ah see. But t' answer yer question, a' three o' them are important,"
"Maxwell too, I take it?" Wynter ventured.
"They a' arrived within days o' each other," he explained. Yumie was first, followed by Maxwell, and then Heinkel. Heinkel and Yumie immediately took t' one aenother. Heinkel was ae very quiet child, compared t' Yumie's rambunctiousness. Yumie dragged Heinkel a' o'er the place most o' the time and she just put up wi' it," he said fondly, "They attempted t' befriend Maxwell and faur the most part, it appeared t' work. Maxwell seemed t' trust the two o' them,"
"So you took care of them, then?"
He nodded, "There was something different aboot them," he said, "Ah taught them what they knoo t'day, when they weren't drivin' meh oot o' mah mind, tha' is."
Wynter smiled, "They sound like they were cute back then,"
To her surprise, Anderson reached into a pocket on the inside of his coat and pulled out a small square paper folded over several times. He stared at it a moment and then handed it to her.
"Ah'd appreciate ye being careful wi' that, there," he said. Wynter took it and gingerly unfolded it, paying attention not to rip it. She pushed back the last crease and scanned it.
"So this is them, huh?" she said.
"That was taken aboot thirteen years aego," he explained, "It's the oon'y one, sae be careful t' it,"
It showed Maxwell, clearly as a young child, sitting on a wooden chair in the center, glaring into the camera. At his left stood a little girl with scraggly black hair covering her eyes, clutching a sword twice her size and smirking boisterously off to the right at another little girl with short blond hair and glasses. In her hands, she held twin pistols and stared back at the other child with a look of stunned bewilderment. Behind all three of them, smiling in amusement, stood none other than Father Anderson. The complete disregard for the camera by the two girls was funny enough in of itself.
"Yumie could ne'er sit still," Anderson said with a chuckle, "Five seconds after tha' was taken, she bolted off somewhere, dragging Heinkel along wi' her,"
"I've never met Yumie and from what I've heard, I'm not anxious to," Wynter said, handing back the photo. He folded it down again and returned it to his coat pocket, " Believe it or no', she's actually quite mellow these days," he said, "Nooadays, Heinkel's the one draggin' her aroond,"
Wynter chuckled, "Sounds hectic, but fun," she said, "Most of the young vampires I care for are too preoccupied trying to return to their families, so there aren't any cute stories I can answer with,"
"Return to their families?" he repeated in confusion. Wynter nodded sadly, "Yeah. Damon Bakshi, for instance. He was nine years of age at his turning and his mind won't mature for several decades, so he requires extra-special care by our older vampires. He won't feed, he won't sleep, he burns badly in sunlight at the moment. He's a very unhappy child right now and there's nothing I can do about it,"
"Nine years?"
"He was hit by a car and our more idiotic member, Ilya Proctor, decided to save him without even waiting to see if the strike was fatal or not. I'm thinking of a suitable punishment for her transgression,"
Wynter fell into a silent state of thought. Anderson glanced at her curiously, "Ah heard Sasha tell Sister Katherine tha' ye care faur those creatures as yer family," he pointed out.
"For the most part, I do. A good number of them lived with me in the facility for many years following their creation and relied on me for protection, as they do today. Because of who I am, many natural vampires instinctively avoid me. These unnatural vampires treat me like their own,"
"Ye seemed particularly concerned faur that vampire, Marjorie,"
Wynter hummed, leaning her chin on her hand, "Yeah. Marjorie's different. She was turned against her will and spent her first hundred years in complete hysteria. It's a wonder she survived. She was eventually subdued and rehabilitated by one of our old members. She and Sasha are very important to me,"
"Doon't faurget, Wynter, Sasha is human," he warned.
"I...I know. I've been preparing myself for it. I never intended to grow close to Sasha in the first place. I like humans, and I enjoy being around them to some extent, but I know of the inevitable ending. Someday, Sasha will leave me and I'll be all alone, once again. I can't make the same mistake I did before with Tobias. Even if I could, I wouldn't turn her," she said distantly, staring off into space,"
"Ye woon't necessarily be alone, Wynter," he pointed out, "Provided Ah doon't kill him first, ye'll have Alucard and that Draculina,"
"I know. Seras and I will likely stay with Alucard for a long, long time. Alucard is going through the same thing I am. Someday, Integra will leave him and he'll be alone in this world. I get the feeling that this secretly terrifies him and he hides it with sarcasm and cynicism. Seras and I are his only living 'blood relatives', you might call us, so we'll continue to stay with him even after Integra passes on. However, I really wish you wouldn't try to kill him, or him you, for that matter. Since you both have become somewhat important to me, I can't say for sure who I should support on the battlefield; my 'father' or my 'beloved rival', as Maxwell has dubbed you,"
She chuckled and turned to look out the window. Anderson frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him. He turned to her as though to say something, stopped to gather his thoughts and then sighed, "Wynter, Ah'm going t' kill ye in the near future; hoo come ye're sae cordial wi' meh?"
Wynter twisted back around from the window and fixed him with a blank stare, "And why not?" she replied, "It's like I told you before; just because we're enemies doesn't mean we can't be civilized outside the field of battle,"
"Tha' ae fact," he muttered.
They fell silent for a while. Wynter was left to her own thoughts and her mind wandered back to their impending voyage back to England. They'd both have to stow away, but Wynter would be locked inside a crate to struggle through it by her lonesome. She wasn't looking forward to it, seeing how running water was a vampire's natural weakness. She absently began to bite her nails again. Anderson grumbled in irritation and grabbed her hands again, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye, "Ah see ye're frettin' aboot the ship," he growled. Wynter didn't meet his gaze, staring off pointedly at the wall. The paladin let out an exasperated sigh, "Listen," he said, "Once we're aboard the vessel and ye're locked away somewhere, Ah'll stay with ye until we get there,"
Wynter's eyes widened in shock and then she gasped sharply, "You—you will?" she exclaimed.
"Uh...yeah, Ah will. But oon'y if ye stop bitin'," he snapped.
Wynter nodded fiercely and then suddenly threw her arms around his neck before he could react, "Thanks!" she said, "I'm terrified of water and I hate making trips across it by myself! You have no idea how much that means to me! Thank you so much!"
She pulled back, grinning out the window and folded her hands in her lap.
He just stared in bewildered shock, struggling to process what just happened. His hatred of vampires was so ingrained in his very existence that he'd almost retaliated violently to that simple show of gratitude. However, due to certain circumstances, he'd remained calm. He was a tad bothered, though. It wasn't something he was used to. He didn't usually appreciate this sort of thing too much. However, something this time was different.
He hadn't actually minded too terribly much.
/ooo/
"So then, do you think they could be there before they arrive?"
The pilot seemed uncomfortable with the sharpness in tone, "Uh, sure, I could get them there by this evening if I flew at full tilt," he replied. Maxwell nodded, stony eyes gleaming. Something wasn't right about him, "Excellent. Make sure to set them where they can intercept our little runaways. The traps must be baited properly, after all,"
Beside him, the twins stared ahead blankly, empty, soulless dolls. The pilot cleared his throat, "Yes sir," he said, "I'll do my best,"
He watched nervously as the twins both climbed into the helicopter and took their seats, awaiting takeoff. He turned back to Maxwell, who nodded affirmative on his leave. The pilot turned to go back to his helicopter, doing his best to ignore the piercing gaze of the twins on him the entire way. He wasn't entirely certain why Maxwell wanted them dropped off in the heart of London, carrying orders not to attack anyone except for two people, descriptions of whom had probably been previously given. Originally, he'd thought that working for the Vatican would be the way to help him get his life back on track. Apparently, he thought as he lifted off into the darkening sky, he was wrong.
/ooo/
"It's too hot,"
Wynter moaned as she pulled the rim of her hat down over her eyes, hunching her bare shoulders beneath its shade in a futile attempt to avoid the scorching sunlight. Across from her, Sasha sighed, "I'm sorry, Wynter," she said, "I didn't think it would be so clear today. I think the sun feels nice,"
"You're not a vampire, Sasha," Wynter growled, playing with some change she had sitting on the tabletop.
"Should I find you a parasol?"
"In this day and age, a parasol would look ridiculous," Wynter muttered. Sasha shrugged, "Well, maybe we should order something cool to drink. That might help,"
She summoned a waiter and ordered an iced tea. Wynter asked for a fruit juice. Sasha watched the waiter leave and then turned to Wynter, "Maybe we can find you a coat or something,"
Wynter shook her head and looked out across the street. Within a few minutes, the waiter came back with their drinks. Sasha took her tea, while he set Wynter's fruit juice down. Wynter stared at her drink while Sasha sputtered and burst into hysterical laughter, covering her eyes as she struggled for breath. Wynter groaned, eying her drink irritably.
"Well, that was stupid," she growled. Her drink was bright red.
As Wynter was stirring a packet of sugar into her somewhat bitter juice, she heard Sasha utter a sudden noise of discontent. She looked up to see a couple of teenage boys approaching, looking a little smug as they paused at their table.
"Uh...," Sasha stammered. Wynter eyed them stonily, "Can we help you?" she asked coldly.
The brunette kid smiled, "You two don't look like you're from around here," he said, "The two of us are locals; we could show you around,"
"We're only passing through, thanks," Wynter said tartly. She looked up when Sasha scooted her chair to the side to avoid the other kid inching closer to her. The one by Wynter seemingly forgot about her as they focused on the clearly weaker target. Wynter took one look at Sasha's petrified face and felt her blood begin to boil.
"Okay," the kid said, "Your friend isn't interested. Maybe you'd like to come with us, hey cutie?"
"N-No, thanks," Sasha stuttered, shaking her head.
"Aw, come on, we're not that bad," the other boy said, inching even closer.
Suddenly, Wynter snapped to her feet, taking her glass in hand and splashing the contents into both of their faces in anger. They completely froze, staring ahead in shock as Wynter lashed forward and grabbed Sasha's arm, upending the table and taking off down the sidewalk with her; "Time to run!" she yelled.
"Wha-? Wha? W-Wait! Wynter!" Sasha cried as she stumbled behind the Draculina, hearing the furious shouts of the two boys behind them. She chanced a glance back and her heart began to pound wildly as they gave chase. She turned back, struggling to keep pace as Wynter continued to hold onto her arm, "Wynter, you can't just throw things at people like that!"
"I just did, moron!" Wynter exclaimed, glancing back, "Besides, I'm bored and they offered amusement! It's only right that I should accept it!" she said with a grin, showing her fangs. Sasha's breath came in sharp gasps from fatigue as she ran and she scowled, "You're weird, Wynter!"
She was jarred to a sudden stop when Wynter screeched to a halt, causing her to ram into her sharply. Sasha was about to protest when she saw that Wynter had reached a bus stop with a bus already allowing people on board. With their pursuers close behind them, Wynter shoved Sasha aboard and hurried up after her, depositing her spare change into the slot. She dragged her to a seat close to the sidewalk just as the doors closed and the two boys reached the stop, glaring up at them as the bus began to pull away. Wynter grinned and waved teasingly as they drew out of sight and then fell into a fit of barely suppressed giggles, "Hehe, that was fun! I haven't enjoyed myself like that in a while," she exclaimed.
Sasha wanted to be angry that Wynter had gone and done something so wrong in broad daylight. Things like that just weren't done by normal people. But she'd done it anyway and gotten some laughter out of it and...and...well, Sasha had to admit, it was kind of funny. As she ran over the scenario in her head again, she too started to giggle, recalling the looks on their faces as Wynter threw her drink at them. Soon, both girls had completely dissolved in laughter, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. But neither seemed to notice either that, or where the bus was even headed.
/ooo/
Wynter's eyes snapped open at the memory, realizing she'd only been dreaming. Curled up inside the tiny wooden crate where a mess of work hoses had previously been stored, she attempted to compress her body tighter in order to conserve space.
She yawned wearily, having only finally dropped off to sleep maybe an hour or two ago. They'd stowed away on the ship early in the morning and Wynter had selected the crate to sleep in while they waited. True to his word, Anderson had sealed her in and situated himself close by, talking to her now and again. Wynter found it hard to admit just how appreciative she truly was. Over the roar of the engine, it was nearly impossible for him to hear her, but she could hear him easily. Whenever she crossed over to visit her homeland on infrequent occasions, she had to stow away aboard a ship of some kind, the variety didn't matter. She always hated it because she was particularly sensitive to the water's power after existing on an island for well over thirty years. Visiting the ruins of the villa was even more difficult. She'd done it after leaving Hellsing the year before. But that was a trip she felt she had no choice but make annually. After all, she still struggled to come to terms with his death and even after over a century, she still couldn't accept how miserably she'd failed him. So far, only Anderson knew exactly how Tobias had died defending her. She'd never told anyone else. Maybe...she wondered as she lay curled up in the darkness, maybe it was okay for him to know. After all, Wynter was vaguely reminded of Tobias whenever she was around Anderson. It was like she'd told him; his rough exterior hid a very kind heart. Knowing little else but fear and mistrust from humans and even her own kind, Wynter felt drawn to this. It was different. He was different. She couldn't explain it, but she felt at peace when she was with him. She felt more able to come to terms with Tobias' death. It had taken a long time to recognize this similar feeling she'd developed with Tobias. She couldn't explain how she felt about it. All she knew was that somewhere along the line, constantly fighting with him and when not struggling on the battlefield, taking part in long conversations and debates. And then sometimes not even talking, just sitting quietly and thinking, temporarily sharing a space in the world with a similar being. During battle, they were sworn enemies. Outside of battle...something different was happening. Wynter closed her eyes. She knew that Bianca had been right about whatever she'd said; somewhere along the line between all the conflict and whatnot, she'd grown to love her greatest rival. Over seventy years had passed since she failed so miserably to protect someone so dear to her. She knew that a human would likely recoil at the thought of feeling this way again; they'd say they were 'betraying so-and-so's memory' or something like that. Wynter knew that no matter what she did, Tobias was gone. Because he'd been a vampire when death came to claim him, though he hadn't drunk blood yet, she had no way of knowing where he'd ended up, be it Heaven, Hell, or Limbo. In any case, he was gone and she had to move on. But still, she'd never expected to ever feel this way about anyone ever again. And then her greatest foe of all people, and a human at that. Not to mention the fact that he was a warrior priest out for her life and the fact that he was currently facing the shattering of his world. How could she do something like this? The answer was simple; she couldn't. Thanks to Bianca, it was likely that he suspected what she was going through, though he hadn't really said anything. Whatever had been said back in Rome was little and apparently easily submersible into the fabric of time. Wynter hummed as she thought of this. It wasn't a comforting thought, but it would have to do. She couldn't say anything. She wouldn't. Contrary to whatever Bianca had said, she'd just have to bury her feelings as deep as they would go and then wait out the next few centuries until it was safe to dig them up again. With this lingering thought in mind, she wrapped her shawl around herself, ruffled her wings in the cramped space and closed her eyes with a tired sigh. She drifted into a restless sleep, the swaying of the ship lulling her nerves.
/ooo/
Anderson stared at the crate a couple of feet away from where he sat up against a steel girder that served as an inner support beam to the ship's hull. It was actually hard to believe there was something living inside that thing. If someone came down to inspect for stowaways, they'd never think to look inside it because Wynter was so incredibly quiet. Besides, even if they did think to look, Anderson doubted that they'd leave the ship alive, or at least, human. He and Wynter both knew that if this happened, the discoverer couldn't be allowed to reveal what they knew. The person would know something was wrong because there was no way that the crated stowaway could be expected to breathe in that tiny space. Any air would have long since been used up. There was no way to predict what the person would believe, but still, their presence was best left undetected.
He wondered vaguely if she'd fallen asleep. The engine was extremely loud where they were and he doubted she could hear him talking. It was a tiny crate, more or less. Any human would have been petrified being locked in there. He frowned in consternation when he remembered her instructing him to seal it shut before the ship's engines were activated. She had climbed into the crate and, sitting up inside it, told him to make sure it was nailed shut just as it had been before they opened it. He'd accepted this rather easily, at least until the moment came to actually close the lid. As he did so, their eyes met for just a brief moment before the darkness within consumed her as the crate was again sealed shut. He realized at that moment just how much she really trusted him. She was allowing herself to be placed in an incredibly vulnerable state. Over water, vampires were exponentially weakened, some more so than others. Wynter was one of those vampires and they both knew that with her in such a weakened state, Anderson could easily just wrench the lid open and stab her heart right there, ending her life while she was completely unable to fight back. In fact, a couple of times, he'd drawn a bayonet and approached the crate, staring down at it grimly. But each time, he remembered his promise and turned away to wait. She'd agreed to honor his request to fight her when the time came and he'd get his chance soon enough.
Of course, he thought as his mind trailed away, there was that other little matter to contend with. Bianca had said on two different occasions that Wynter held a deep concern, even feelings for him and she'd also said that it was natural for rivals to grow close. When Wynter had awakened after Bianca released her, he'd been fairly certain he'd hidden it well. He was pretty sure that she didn't suspect a thing. After all, it wasn't like this was a good thing to happen; him, a servant of God, destroyer of all unholy monsters and heathens who refused to take the word of God, essentially developing attachment to the very creature he sought to destroy. No, not just attachment, it seemed. He was barely able to admit it to himself, but...was it possible that in the last few months spent in close proximity, he'd begun to feel a little bit more than simple attachment? He'd always believed that God influenced the lives of all His children, that He had a reason and a purpose for everything He did. So if that was true, then why was He doing this to his own servant? It wasn't right on so many levels. He was human, she was a vampire. He was...he was...was what? What else? For the life of him, that one reason was the only one he could think of right then. Everything else seemed to...just dissipate in his head. Was God trying to tell him something? What if Wynter was right, in that God loved the vampires, too, as well as the humans? If that were the case, then this wouldn't seem so bad.
He shook his head, scowling. No, no, he wasn't making any sense! Wynter was a vampire! It was because of a vampire that he was even like this today! If he had never met that damned monster, if he'd never joined the military to begin with for that matter...that's when it hit him. If he'd never joined the military, he'd never have become the person he was today. His faith in God would likely never have kindled, he'd never have found meaning in his life by caring for the children at the orphanage or by serving His Holiness the Pope, he'd never have found purpose by defending human lives in the act of killing vampires. That was his real reason for fighting, after all, because they ruined human lives, just as one had ruined his. But then, if he'd never made his decisions back then...
He glanced over at the crate where he figured she was probably asleep. He frowned. If he'd never made those decisions, be they good or bad, he'd never have met her, either. She was a vampire who, as she said, understood her own curse. She grasped the meaning behind what she was; always alone, always treading the border of danger and safety, always fighting. She'd attempted to find peace and purpose by uniting a small band of creatures just like her in an attempt to restore balance to their lives. She was bringing the scared and meeker individuals of her kind to the safety she provided with her protection. In a sense, she was doing the same thing he was. They were both serving as stepping stones for the young and the weak, giving them the support they needed to rise up into the world they couldn't enter without assistance. He and Wynter, serving in these roles, would never actually make it into that world so long as they continued down their chosen paths. So now, their paths were intersecting, and Anderson believed that God had ordained it to be this way. But what was He trying to say? Was He trying to tell him that it was time he found his way into the world? Was He trying to tell Wynter the same thing? If God hadn't yet struck him down for daring to feel this way about a vampire, then Anderson had no choice but to doubt the advice he'd always given himself; that vampires were hateful creatures that God wished decimated from the earth. Unfortunately, anything he tried to say sounded like an excuse to him. However, if God had allowed it to happen, then what was wrong with it? Humans were very set in their ways. Anderson knew that if anyone found out about this, there would be big trouble. He couldn't allow anyone to find out. He was bound to human laws and human laws declared this to be just plain wrong.
So with this in mind, he had just one question; why didn't he care?
/ooo/
Two hours passed. The ship's engine finally died, signaling their arrival in Bristol. Following Wynter's instructions in the overseas transport of a vampire, he quickly opened the lid of the crate with a single wrench and peered inside. She was curled up in exactly the same position she'd been in when they'd departed. She was sound asleep. Her face was surprisingly peaceful for what she described as an arduous journey. She actually looked human like this. Anderson briefly faltered when it came to waking her, but he gathered his composure again and reached in, shaking her lightly, "Wynter, wake up," he said, "We've docked in Bristol,"
Wynter moaned in her sleep and her eyes shifted beneath the lids. In the darkness around them, he saw her eyes open, revealing the blazing red orbs that proved she was anything but human. She yawned slightly, exposing her fangs and sat up, brushing her hair from her eyes, "We're here already?" she muttered, "Thanks for waking me. I don't think I'd have awoken on my own easily,"
She sighed and ruffled her wings, "I guess it's about time we got back to England. But how do you feel about the whole situation? I'm home, but you're still a fugitive," she said.
"What Ah think does no' matter," he said sternly, "What matters is tha' we end this ludicrous mess,"
Wynter sighed and shook her head, "Honestly, why are you so...human?" she asked after searching for the correct word. She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt, reaching around her for her hat and flipping her hair out of the braid and over her wings. She frowned in thought and then smirked, searching around for her bag. Anderson stood up, moving to check if the coast was clear for them to escape. When he turned back around, he was shocked to see that Wynter was sitting down, busily undoing the buttons on the back of her shirt.
"What the hell are ye doing?" he exclaimed. She glanced up blankly, "What? I'm back in England, so the disguise is no longer necessary, not that it really was to begin with. I'm going to change back,"
"Here!"
"Of course. I'm not about to walk around England like this, you know,"
He whirled, "At least wait until Ah'm turned away!" he exclaimed, bristling. There was nowhere for her to really go if she was serious so the only thing he could do was simply A, turn away from her and B, keep an eye on the stairs. Vampire or not, she was still a woman and it was indecent! But good luck telling her that. She didn't really appear to care.
"Well, at least you react more rationally than Tobias used to," he heard her say.
"Are ye sayin' ye dae this kind o' thing often?" he growled, folding his arms as he waited.
"No, I'm just saying that I often had no choice seventy-some years ago when I lived with Tobias. He never let me leave to go earn money for new clothes because he was always afraid that I'd be spotted by Arakawa's men. So I had to wash my clothes in the sink. Besides, I always said it wasn't like he'd burst into flames if he so much as looked at me,"
"That's no' the point, Wynter," Anderson said, "What's wi' the complete disregard for modesty?"
"It's not that I have no modesty. I'm just used to it. When I was held in the facility, we were referred to as numbers and weren't given clothes for the most part. Anything we wore could be taken from us without warning. I just became accustomed to it,"
He wasn't sure how to respond to that. He cleared his throat, "Sae then...what was yer number?" he asked, almost turning out of habit, but remembering in time and stopping.
"Thirteen," she answered, "The 'bad luck' number. Everyone there was downright terrified of me. I guess it fit. The humans feared my power. The vampires feared my scent,"
"They could detect Alucard on ye," Anderson ventured.
"Yeah, I suppose so. You can turn around, now,"
He did so with a tired sigh, watching her warily. She had pulled the braid from her hair and was busily brushing the tangles out with her fingers, "That feels better," she remarked, "I like this better than those fancy things, anyway,"
She pulled her wings into her cloak and fixed her shawl, standing up and stretching, "It feels good to be back," she said, "But we're not out of the woods yet. Once the loading dock is in place, we need to get out of here and get back to London. Obviously, Bianca told you something about our present situation that I'm not aware of. While I'd like to know, we're pressed for time,"
He nodded, "Then lets' be on oor way,"
Making it off the ship turned out to be easier than boarding it. All they had to do was jump to the dock from the railing. Once down, no one unloading the cargo seemed to notice them at all and they were free to leave. Wynter breathed deeply and sighed, "The salt air is nice. Kinda makes me wish I needed to breathe more often, but to do so just makes me dizzy,"
Anderson cast a strange glance at her. She was gazing at the buildings as they walked, clearly happy to be back. She chuckled, "I'm probably going to get scolded by Alucard for allowing myself to be dragged to Rome. But I do wonder how Bianca got us there when I have to cross water to get there," she said ponderously, staring at the ground.
"Bianca mentioned she was ae priestess," Anderson said, "Perhaps her spiritual power ootweighed yer oon demonic abilities,"
"You may have a point, there," Wynter agreed, "But you have to admit, it's still a bit sketchy,"
She glanced up suddenly, turning off to the left to watch a small pillar of smoke curling into the sky above them. She smiled, "Well, well, it seems like the new bakery is up and running. That was quick; it was only destroyed a couple of months ago," she said with a leer in his direction. Anderson bristled, "Ah dinnae cause that! It was'nae even supposed t' happen!"
"You sound like you're making excuses," Wynter chimed mirthfully. Anderson realized she'd been toying with him and that he'd foolishly fallen for it. Infuriated, he swept off, leaving her behind. Wynter hurried after him, chuckling, "Oh come on, you don't have to get mad, I was just playing with you. I already knew that the fire was accidentally set by two hair-brained recruits of Iscariot,"
She sighed, "Actually, that bakery was very old. Marjorie had been meaning to replace all the old ovens for new ones anyway. Plus, the building needed a lot of repairs and refurbishing. It was a pretty old place, after all. This sort of gave her the excuse to do some redecorating. I sort of wish I could see her while we're here, but having you there would certainly make things awkward," she said.
"Ah'm no' too anxious t' meet ae group o' vampires, Wynter,"
"Yeah, I figured you might say something like that. It's just as well; we need to get back to Hellsing as soon as possible. I believe the train leaves in about a half hour. It's been a rough journey, but we'll soon be back. The sooner we return, the sooner we straighten out this mess and the sooner you can go home and we can get back to fighting," she said cheerfully. Her expression grew serious, then, "Unless of course you disapprove of this plan for whatever reason," she said.
"Ah doon't," he said stiffly, "Hooever, if it's t' work, Ah'm anxious t' set it in motion a'ready. Let's get going," he said, continuing down the street toward the station. Wynter stared after him blankly for a moment before shrugging and starting forward.
"I don't know why," she said all of a sudden, "But I'm feeling strangely anxious. We've only been missing for a little over three days, half of that time spent returning to England, but it feels like I've been gone only seconds,"
"Ye're ae vampire; time means nothing t' the likes o' ye. In mah case, it feels like years have floon by," he said from several feet away. Fortunately, there weren't many people around to possibly overhear them.
Wynter smirked, "And you're human; time means everything to you," Wynter countered, "But you're not an ordinary human. You said yourself you're sixty years of age exactly, but that you were frozen over thirty years ago. You were frozen just as I was. We're walking cryogenics," she joked.
"What?" he exclaimed in confusion.
Wynter sighed heavily, "We were both on the verge of death when our lives were forever altered. You became a modified human, in layman's terms, an android of sorts, fighting for a worthwhile cause to defend humans of your own race and belief. I, on the other hand, became something more simple and easier to understand. I fight for nothing and no one except for myself and my own existence. That's just the kind of selfish creature I've turned into over my many years of solitude. I can't help the fact that I'm self-centered for the most part. I spend all my time alone; it's natural. But then, a random plot twist, the zany antics of a warped author throws my happy little world into written chaos. You might say I'm breaking the fourth wall. In any case, it doesn't matter. This white crow enjoys her life,"
She headed off up the street, leaving him to stare after her in bewilderment.
"Wynter, none o' what ye seid made any sense," he protested.
"Oh sure it did. We're both white crows. Honestly, what are the chances we'd meet one another in a real world?" she said as if it were the plainest thing on earth.
Anderson had the vague idea that she was trying to tell him something.
/ooo/
Integra had just gotten off the phone with Mr. Burns, their former Vatican informant. She had her head cradled in one upraised hand, her teeth clamped down hard over her cigar, threatening to snap it in two.
"Damn it," she hissed.
"Something troubles you, my master?" Alucard chimed from his position beside the door, arms folded and leaning against the wall. Integra simply ignored him and reached to the call button on the P.A system, "Walter, where are you currently?"
"The sub levels, sir. I'm trying to bolster our security systems just in case,"
"Abandon it; we've got trouble headed our way. I've just received word from Mr. Burns. It seems that the Vatican has suddenly deployed a helicopter headed toward us, carrying the twins, both fully armed. This can only mean that Wynter and Anderson have evaded capture and are attempting to return,"
Walter hummed thoughtfully on the other end, "It would seem they're trying to intercept them at the same time as weakening our own defenses. Killing two birds with one stone, more or less. However, you do realize that there is still nothing we can realistically do to help them. If we were to mobilize at the wrong time, it would stir up war for certain. Right now, all we can do is open our gates and hope that they make it back before that helicopter arrives,"
Integra clenched her fists angrily at this. Walter was right; their hands were tied. If they acted now, while the Vatican was still in such an uproar, they'd only ignite religious warfare needlessly. Whether or not Maxwell was aware of what he was doing, his timing couldn't have been worse. Integra didn't really care too terribly much for either Wynter or Anderson; Wynter gave her chills the likes of which even Alucard couldn't, and Anderson was simply her enemy. It was the fact that she was entirely helpless that made her blood boil. She looked up at Alucard, seemingly asleep on his feet, though she knew better. He was listening to all being said. Her eyes narrowed, "Alucard, just how greatly do you care for your very first fledgling?" she asked almost tauntingly as she shut the P.A off.
Alucard peered at her over the tops of his glasses, frowning, "That's a rather queer thing for you to say, Integra," he pointed out, "I've told you before; Wynter's grown now and she has no more need of me. Honestly, I don't really see why she sought me out all these years. She should know that by invading my home, she runs the risk of death at my hands,"
"Typical traits of a bestial creature," Integra spat, "I can see right through that bluff, Alucard. She's run that so-called risk twice and still lives. It's the same principle as with Seras. I don't believe you'd truly go through with it if presented the opportunity,"
"Don't make foolish assumptions, Integra," Alucard growled, "You don't know us as well as you believe,"
"I know more than you think, Alucard," Integra countered coolly, "Wynter is more than a mere fledgling competition to you; she's closer to your daughter as well as the apparent reincarnation of your pact sister, that is if what you told us was all true. Given this, you care more for her than you let on,"
"Where are you going with this, Integra?"
"Just one thing; there's a very real possibility that Wynter may die within the next few hours. Are you going to fail her yet again, Alucard?"
She was pushing it and she knew it. Alucard was driven by vampiric pride and his failures to protect his first fledgling ate away at him daily. Integra knew he wouldn't be right again until he could successfully protect her. But she knew it wasn't just Wynter. Something had clearly happened with Bianca, as well.
Alucard never answered.
Outside, the faint sound of rotors churning met their ears off in the distance.
/ooo/
Wynter looked up in time to see the immense shadow passing overhead, the din of the rotors deafening from this short distance. Brushing her billowing hair from her face, she frowned concernedly, "A helicopter! Is it one of ours?"
"Ah doon't believe sae," Anderson answered, "Ah think it's one o' oors!"
"The Vatican!" Wynter exclaimed, "No! They're headed for Hellsing!"
They'd only just arrived in London, their train having been delayed due to transmission problems in the station. Now, just outside the station, they'd spotted the aircraft wheeling toward the Hellsing estate.
Both of them knew what was likely aboard that craft. Both of them understood the immense stakes at hand should that helicopter reach Hellsing.
"We have to get there now!" Wynter said, bolting forward. Anderson took off after her. By now, an entire day had passed and it was late at night. Thankfully, only a few people were on the streets to notice them, mostly tourists and scattered locals.
It took several minutes to clear the bustling inner city of London. They finally reached the suburban roads leading to the old manor, nothing but surrounding countryside on either side of them.
Wynter skidded to a halt suddenly, staring up at the sky as the same helicopter whizzed overhead, heading back the way it came toward Rome. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she realized what this probably meant. A few feet away, Anderson also watched its progress.
"Hey," he said, "Ah'm assuming we're both thinkin' the same thing,"
"Probably," Wynter answered briskly, "If you're thinking that that chopper has already completed its mission, then yes, we are,"
The road before them led to the Hellsing manor. Wynter could see straight to the bend clear as day.
And that's what terrified her.
"Anderson," she said warningly, "I'm really hoping that you're seeing what I'm seeing,"
"Unlikely," he said impatiently as the tension in the air grew thicker, "Ah doon't have night vision t' compare t' yers. Ah see something coming, but Ah cannae tell what it is,"
"You don't want to. Run! It's Giuseppe!" Wynter yelled, whirling and scrambling off the path. Anderson found that he suddenly couldn't move, however, and was frozen in place on the path. He knew instantly that Mireille was somewhere close by and that he was in serious trouble.
Wynter noticed what was happening and unfurled her wings, gliding swiftly back down to the path. Her eyes blazed and she let out a wolfish snarl as she took a defensive stance facing Giuseppe.
"Anderson, move damn it! You're going to be killed!"
"Ah can't!" he yelled in frustration. Wynter could see that he was struggling to move and was strangely unable to. He scowled as Giuseppe finally reached them and paused about ten feet away, sword brandished in their direction. His face remained stonily blank.
Wynter shuddered suddenly, feeling as though something were crawling up her spine. She instinctively knew that someone was now behind them and assumed it to be Mireille. She backed up slightly, knowing that since Anderson couldn't move under Mireille's piercing gaze, it was up to her to defend them both. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have been a problem, but Giuseppe and Mireille were in a class by themselves. Wynter didn't even know if she could fight them, much less defeat them. So far, they'd proven themselves to be highly formidable. Her eyes narrowed; everything had its weak points. These two were no different. She just had to find those weak points.
Giuseppe's arm twitched and Wynter braced, anticipating an attack. Her left arm disintegrated into shadow matter lashing out and snatching his wrist. Giuseppe looked down at it blankly and futilely tried to pull away from it, only for it to tighten. Wynter smirked and set about to dragging him closer while he thrashed wildly to free himself, his face never changing. Wynter had to admit that that was just eerie. She chanced a glance behind her at Mireille, standing motionless with her eyes flashing myriads of colors as she stared unblinkingly at Anderson.
Wynter frowned thoughtfully, and hummed, "I wonder..." she mumbled. If she wanted to do what she was hypothesizing, she'd have to release Giuseppe, but it was worth it if it worked. She recoiled her shadow matter, dropping him hard to the ground. Then she pulled her left hand back into its original form and took four quick steps closer to Mireille. She clapped her hands sharply.
Just as she predicted, the girl blinked suddenly. Her gaze broken, Anderson quickly dove out of her line of vision toward Giuseppe just as the boy charged forward, sword raised. Anderson intercepted and snagged the blade against two bayonets before it sliced into Wynter. As he drove Giuseppe back, he glanced at her curiously, "Hoo did ye knoo?"
"Mireille's human!" Wynter answered as she faced off against her, "Her human reflexes are the same! It just occurred to me, that's all,"
Anderson smirked, "Ah have t' admit, Ah'm impressed," he said as he shoved Giuseppe back without attacking him, "Ye're provin' yer worth,"
But even as it seemed they were gaining the upper hand, Wynter knew that to make eye contact with Mireille was deadly and so she was slowly driven back as the girl drew closer. She now stood facing Mireille with Anderson directly behind her, facing Giuseppe. They both knew they could possibly win, but couldn't estimate the costs at all.
Suddenly, the air around them grew unbearably thick and Wynter felt her vision going blurry. Was she going blind again? No, she wasn't, she could still see. Behind her, she heard Anderson grunt in pain and realized that Mireille wasn't finished with them yet.
"Wynter, can ye move?"
"Y-Yeah," Wynter replied, "But we're in serious trouble! If we don't get out of here, we'll be cut to ribbons!"
"Sae get oot! Just fly a'ready!"
Wynter eyed him skeptically, "What?"
He glanced back at her, though it was clear that simple action was difficult, "Fly back t' Hellsing! Let them knoo what's happening here!"
Wynter's eyes widened, "Are you nuts! There is no way in hell I'm leaving you here to deal with them by yourself!"
"There's nae sense in both o' us staying," he argued, eying Giuseppe as he got closer and closer. Anderson whirled and grabbed Wynter's arm, forcefully hurling her away off the path. She stumbled, but maintained her footing and leaped out of the way as Giuseppe took a swing at her. She beat her wings and lifted into the air, vanishing into the darkness above them. Anderson once again found himself paralyzed by Mireille and for the first time in many years, realized he was completely helpless to do anything. But still, he never took his eyes off Giuseppe, daring him to just try and attack, "Ye're oon'y ae kid," he snapped, "Maxwell had nae right t' dae this t' ye. Ye should'nae be fighting, but ye are anyway. Sae come at meh, then! See if ye can kill meh!"
Giuseppe's eyes flickered. It was the first trace of emotion he'd shown. Anderson knew that there was nothing he could do, but he wasn't going to go down easily. With Mireille holding him frozen in place and Giuseppe preparing to impale him, he had a feeling that he was probably done for this night. It was almost like his first run-in with the vampire in Romania. He once again felt a twinge of fear, but the urge to take his own life was missing.
Giuseppe braced, pushing off against his left foot as he charged toward the paladin, sword raised. Paralyzed by Mireille's arresting glare, Anderson could do nothing but watch and reflexively closed his eyes before impact.
There was a sudden rush of wind around them and the sharp sound of the sword striking through something. All of a sudden, Anderson found that he was once again capable of movement as Mireille broke her stare. But that wasn't the strange part; he hadn't felt the sword strike him and as he opened his eyes, he saw why.
"Nae...," he muttered, "Wynter!"
Wynter had seemingly been biding her time in the sky, watching the battle from above. Unable to bring herself to leave him to face them alone, it seemed, she'd stayed in the area. Now, she stood directly before him, turned away from him toward Giuseppe who stood with the claymore sword buried halfway into Wynter's body, and to Anderson's amazed horror, straight through the left side of her chest where he saw the tip of the blade visible through the other side, slicing through her thick hair, directly through her heart.
Wynter couldn't speak; she uttered a faint choking sound and coughed blood as Giuseppe wrenched the sword free, the blade bathed in her blood. Wynter twitched once and then slowly crumpled to the ground.
A/N: CLIFFHANGER! Evil cliffhangers! But that's what happens! Hehehe. I feel so evil right now, lol.