DESCENT
It was dusk when she next looked out the window. Her pile of reports was diminished, though not significantly. Her mind had been other places all day. That's just an excuse…because you're afraid. He hadn't said it, but the implication had been clear. She'd been preoccupied with it to the point of distraction. Just an excuse—not an excuse, a real, valid reason!
Dusk had given way to dead of night when the realization dawned on her. What he meant by "other ways." Quite suddenly, she was torn. No more physical ailments. No mortal confinements. No more growing older and more worn out each year, being forced to realize that death was coming and she wasn't ready to turn over her father's institute to anyone else's hands. No more worries that her successors would be incompetent. She could keep her eye on him indefinitely…She could have all the time in the world.
It scared her. What had happened to her steel resolve? Would she give up her humanity so easily? No. She stood quickly, determined not to be rash in her judgment. She needed to get out of this room—it was filled with him, everything in it reminded her of him and clouded her thoughts with silly sentimental ideas left over from her childhood. Walter. She needed to talk to Walter.
It wasn't Walter that she first met in the hall, though. It was Seras. The blonde acknowledged her with a nod, and then moved to pass her and continue down the corridor. Integral remained motionless, searching the other woman's face. Seras blinked at her and backed up a step.
"Is… something wrong?" she asked timidly.
"Were your eyes always red?"
"Wha…?" She took another step backwards, in shock. "N-no. They turned this color when…" she faltered and broke away from Integral's piercing gaze. "They used to be blue. Master says that they may turn blue again if I drink his blood, but …"
"Why in hell don't you drink his blood? Why would you want to remain his servant?"
Seras collected herself before answering. "Why would he want to remain yours?"
Integral had no answer for that. She was well aware of the implications-- both of Alucard's relationship to her and Seras's to him—but she didn't want to think about it any more than she already had. She could feel her resolve weakening by the minute. She shoved the walls around her heart back in place with some effort before focusing on Seras once again.
"Did it hurt?"
Again, the look of surprise passed over Seras's face. For the moment, it was she who knew things, and she who was providing answers. She didn't quite know how to handle it. So she answered honestly. "No. It's not meant to hurt; it's…" she flushed slightly. Integral raised an eyebrow.
"I see."
"Ma'am, are you all right?"
"Yes. That will be all, Victoria." She left before the policewoman could say anything else. Integral couldn't bear the compassionate look in the other girl's eyes. Even with those eerie red-tinged irises, the gaze was too human, too kind, and so very undemonic. If it had remained only Integral and Alucard, she could have resisted that secret desire to join him forever. But Seras complicated things; not only because she so doggedly loved her master, but because her very sweetness and innocence had made Integral realize that even vampires could be good people. More importantly, they could remain so. Seras had stayed constant for the past twelve years; she had not adopted Alucard's habits of arrogant cruelty and delight in bloodshed. And even more incredible, Alucard himself seemed to be tiring of the things he once found wonderfully stimulating. He was still nowhere near sane, but if anything, Seras had pulled Alucard more towards the light than he had succeeded in bringing her completely into darkness. Integral had been stunned to find herself jealous of the pair of them. She'd known that they'd been lovers for years, almost as long as she'd been married to Jack, but she had never cared much about it either way until she had marked the gentler tones he used with Seras. His mellow behavior had excited such a rage and envy in Integral that she'd had to take a vacation on the Continent to bring herself back under control. He had never been gentle towards her; even when she was young he had been a fierce and terrifying presence. And then…
When she'd returned from her holiday, it had only gotten worse. Jack's philandering reached an unbearable degree, the twins became incessant chatterboxes, Walter's sister had fallen ill and he'd taken leave to care for her, and Alucard—had been the same. She knew he was aware of her feelings, and though she would never admit it she was hurt that he didn't even bother to try to be discreet about Seras. Thank heaven at least that Walter had returned.
Her wanderings quickly found
her at her bedroom door. She almost
pressed right by it in her frantic desperation to find Walter (who—she was
sure—was the only sane one left in her life).
But something held her back—Jack wasn't the best of husbands, but she
did have a duty to him, didn't she? Even
if it happened that she could take the night for her own and keep Hellsing successful and respectable, wouldn't she still be
betraying her duty to her family if she abandoned her husband?
And then the idea: if she was to stay with Jack tonight, she would not go to Alucard, and perhaps by morning this madness that had gripped her would pass. She turned the handle and moved quietly into the dimly lit room without a second thought. She approached the bed cautiously, suddenly feeling very shy and uncertain. What would she say to him now, after that awful incident in the study? Maybe she didn't need to say anything. Leaning over the large four poster bed, she started to lift the corner of the comforter, intending to crawl in next to him and see what happened in the morning. She needn't have bothered—there were already two people sleeping in the bed.
Integral took in both shapes with less emotion than she would have thought possible. What an awful joke! Go play with Roberta, that's what we pay her for…play, indeed. She was impressed that he had managed to keep a straight face when she'd said it. Briefly, she wondered how long this affair had been going on; hours, years? There was no way to tell. She slipped out of the room as silently as she had entered, leaning against the closed door in the safety of the corridor. Her breath was suddenly and unexpectedly ragged.
"Where…" she began, but she was no longer sure who she was trying to find.
Integral…
His voice whispered in her mind and made her start in alarm. No, she insisted, quickly resumed her frantic searching. Where the hell was Walter?
To the left.
Integral turned right, ignoring the laughter that followed her down the hall. She would not give him the satisfaction of riling her up.
"Sir Hellsing? Are you ill?"
"Walter!" she exclaimed, halting abruptly. Her breath came in short, gasping spurts and she could feel her heart pounding madly in her chest. "I'm not ill, I need…to talk to you."
Walter nodded slightly and gestured to the open door down the hall a little way. "Shall we?"
Integral smirked slightly as Alucard's disturbing presence retreated in something of a disappointed sulk.
****
This was not going the way she'd planned at all.
"What do you mean you've been expecting this?"
Walter sipped his tea quietly. "Just what I said. I've been wondering when you were going to talk to me about it. To be quite honest, I expected it years ago, but you were always very conservative where he was concerned."
Integral's grip on her mug tightened considerably. "Explain yourself."
"It's never been a secret that you two are close, and it's even less of a secret that he's wanted you to join him in his world ever since you were a little girl. All that's ever stood in the way is you."
"You're advocating this?" she snapped harshly.
Walter didn't blink an eye. "You tell me that the reason you are tempted to accept Alucard's invitation is that as an immortal being yourself, you would be able to protect Hellsing forever, as well as keep him in line. This wish to protect Hellsing indefinitely, I assume, arises from the fact that neither of the twins seem like very good candidates to run this institution up to par with the standards that your father would have desired. On the other hand, the reasons you do not want to become a vampire are simply defined as 'God and the Queen.' Am I correct?"
"You are," Integral answered sharply. Walter looked towards the ceiling thoughtfully.
"I think there are a few things that you don't understand. The first is your assumption that vampires are, without exception, abominations in the sight of God. I expect as much out of the Vatican, but in England we are usually more civilized in our judgments. If God created everything, then it follows that he must have created vampires as well to fulfill some purpose."
"God created the devil as well," Integral murmured. "Vampires cheat death and are an abomination in His sight."
"I won't pretend to know what God considers an abomination," Walter returned immediately. "I fought with Alucard in the war; and yes, he was bloodthirsty and cruel, but always to his enemies. The same as any other soldier, he fought for his side. His pride is excessive, but it makes him loyal to an extreme as well. Aren't loyalty and obedience precious in the sight of God?"
Yes, she knew, they were. They were precious in her sight as well. But that did not make her despise his race any less. And the thought of becoming something like that still made her shudder.
"But," she played her final argument, "I have a duty to the Queen. If I were to do this, Hellsing would be undermined."
He actually smiled at that. "I am not telling you which path is best. If you die, chances are that you will leave Hellsing in very incapable hands. If you become a vampire, you will be throwing away your marriage and your reputation. Your marriage, no doubt, concerns you little, but if I may be so bold I think that you are more concerned with your own reputation than with undermining Hellsing. I have been and always will be glad to sit in for you at the council meetings, should your absence become necessary."
Integral's eyes narrowed. Because she knew him so well, his implication was quite clear—perhaps it was time she died to the public eye; "died" with all that the word implied. All her arguments shot out from under her, she was left once again to her own discretion. The problem was, her discretion wasn't cooperating. Part of her screamed that she would never, never bend to Alucard's will. The other knew what she had known for ten years, when she had been attacked and personally slit her own throat: She was mortal. She could die, anytime. And she wasn't ready to die. That part of her latched on to the one romantic wish she hadn't been able to rid herself of; the one where her knight in shining armor saved her from the evils of the world. Unfortunately, this knight wasn't shining, he was a raving lunatic, and he was just as much an evil of the world as he was her saviour from it.