The Grass is Blue, a hellsing fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor have anything remotely resembling ownership in the Hellsing universe other than my own perverse ideas—there, hope the lawyers are satisfied!

"The Grass is Blue"

Twenty-four hours. One solar day. One turn of a perfect circle on a never-ending axis. That was all, nothing more. The inexorable movement of a pair of hands on the face of a man made object. It was amazing really, that a few ticks of times endless passage could change everything in a person's world. Turn it upside down, and inside out, forever different. Time stood still for no one. Not even her.

I've had to think up a way to survive since you said it's over—told me goodbye

The young woman adjusted the dark glasses that shielded her sensitive eyes from the fading glare that came from the window of the passenger plane, noting that the clouds had turned a deeper shade of scarlet. She sighed, scrunching lower in the padding of her seat, thankful that it was nearly nightfall. In just a few more minutes she'd arrive, setting foot on an entirely different continent, and hopefully an entirely new life.

I just can't make it one day without you—unless I pretend that the opposite's true

She'd been given references, of course. Contacts that would help her settle in, maybe find her a place to stay. It was supposed to be a new beginning. A place from which to start over, perhaps learn to live again. A place from which to heal the deep wounds that scarred her heart, but more importantly, Canada was to be a place where she could forget everything. Where she could forget him. Forget that he hadn't chosen her. Forget that she was not the one he'd wanted. A lone, hot tear trickled its way down her cheek, the salty drop stained red in the dying sun.

Rivers flow backwards, valleys are high, mountains are level—truth is a lie

The plane began its descent, banking slowly in a tight circle. She could feel the drop in air pressure like a tingle of electricity against her skin. With shaking hands, she wiped the single tear away, reaching for the heavy tote just under her seat. There was to be someone to meet her at the terminal that would help with her entry into the country. Help smooth her way past authorities that would question certain facts on her visa. He was a cop in one of the precincts here.

I'm perfectly fine, and I don't miss you—and the sky is green, and the grass is blue

Her old friend had assured her that this man could be trusted. This person had supposedly been a great deal of help during a dark, dark time. Back during the terrible time of the Blitz; back during the war. That could only mean one thing—he was as she, a creature of stories, a nightmare, something that wasn't supposed to exist. The only saving grace that the woman could find with this was the fact that this man was a cop. He was doing what he thought was right to avenge the wrongs of a long lifetime of consequences, and that was the only reason she'd agreed to come here. It was that, or simply end everything.

How much can a heart and a troubled mind take—where is that fine line before it all breaks

She waited until most of the other passengers had departed before taking a shaking breath, gathering what was left of her nerve, and walking out into the cool Ontario air. She didn't worry about finding her contact. She would know in an instant that another was close by. That was part of her nature, her instincts. You could always tell. Even the fakes had a certain feel to them. She bit her pale lip, trying her best to not let the nearness of so many affect her control. A control that was growing more and more fragile with every waking second. So many new sensations were bombarding her, when all she wanted to do was sink to the floor and weep until the pain went away.

Can one end their sorrow, just cross over it—and into that realm of insanities bliss

It didn't take long for the blond haired woman to scent out her contact in this strange new world. His power was old, but weak, almost as it he'd halved it. Or better yet, as if he refused it. Upon seeing him, she was very, very glad that he looked nothing like him. If this foreigner had been dark headed, she'd have turned tail then and there. Disappearing never to be heard from again. She couldn't have handled any reminder. Not now, not when she was so near her breaking point. The man's dark and deeply understanding eyes stared at her from a face that hadn't aged past thirty-five. Hair the color of sunshine fell over a pale forehead, which only added a boyish charm to the slight smile he gave her, before shoving hands into his coat pockets.

There's snow in the tropics, there's ice on the sun, it's hot in the arctic—and crying is fun

What she found odd was that he wasn't alone. There was a woman with him. She was rather nice looking in a tired sort of way, with long sandy hair that curled riotously over her shoulders. What was even more surprising was that this woman was human. As she neared, she could see a great sadness in the woman's eyes. A sadness that spoke equally to the sadness that she held in her own scarlet eyes. This person knew the very pain she herself was experiencing. Sorrow radiated round the both of them so thickly that for a moment, it was hard to breath. For some strange reason, this comforted her. She wasn't the only one suffering in this world, even thought at the moment, it felt as is she were.

And I'm happy now, and I'm glad were through—and the sky is green, and the grass is blue

By the time they whisked her through customs, the sky was dark. She watched as the strange couple led her through a dimly lit parking lot, before stowing her bag in the boot of a light blue car the size of a tank. Thankfully, after introducing themselves to her, the pair had fallen silent, letting her sink into her thoughts. Everything still seemed so surreal, like she was watching this happen through a thick, warped glass pane. She looked up at the stars. They were still the same old stars. The ones she'd wished on thousands of times, just in a different part of the world, in a different sky. Only wishes didn't come true. Not hers and nor did seem as if they would for the two in the front seat, either.

And the rivers flow backwards, and my tears are dry—swans hate the water, and eagles can't fly

She pulled inward, her body tensing in the large backseat of the car she was riding in. Taking her to her new destination, a far cry from where she'd just come from. She tucked her sunglasses in her purse, looking out at the passing streetlights. Everything was different, but also the same. It was a city, just like any other. Filled with all that drifted on the polluted tides of what dwelled in such places. There was crime, there were drugs, there was prostitution, but there was also life. Life. Something that she could say she'd had in a long, long time, though truth be told, it'd only been mere twenty-four hours since that little word had deserted her for all eternity. Oh god, how it hurt!

But I'm alright now, now that I'm over you—and the sky is green, and the grass is blue

It was good that they'd arrived at her new apartment just then. She was so close to giving in. Just letting every pent up feeling, every torn emotion fly, like the shards of her broken heart that was tearing her up inside. She barely noticed as her new compatriots looked back at her, their faces filled with understanding as she stared at the opened door to the place she would now call home. She thanked them in a voice that was not even recognizable to herself, noting absently that the one called Natalie said that she was only a few doors down, and that if she needed anything to call whenever. The other, Nick, would be around for her tomorrow night, get her set up on the squad. Introduce her to the new captain. She would start tomorrow night, if that were alright. She thought she nodded, but wasn't sure. Didn't even realize when the door shut behind them, only understanding that she was finally alone. Alone, able to let go, to sink to her knees, hiding her face in quivering hands and weep to her hearts content. Alone. She, Ceres Victoria, would always be alone.

And I don't love you—and the grass is blue