Fresh Blood

By SSG Michael B. Jackson

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or anything connected with it, though it sure as hell would be fun if I did. I'm writing this purely for my own twisted amusement, and will not make a dime in the process.

Brad wasn't really sure what woke him, nor did he clearly remember going to sleep. In fact, for several long seconds after he opened his eyes, he wasn't even sure where he was. But then memories began to trickle back into his foggy mind, memories of the previous day's horrors. With a gasp, he rolled over, his left arm flopping over to where Anja should have been. Nothing. He was alone in the unfamiliar room lent him there in Hellsing House.

"Christ," he whispered, staring up at the ceiling vacantly, "It wasn't a damn nightmare."

He continued to stare off into space for a long time, strange, black thoughts and half-thoughts chasing themselves through his mind like howling demons. But, finally, he'd had enough, and with a growl forced himself up. 'No point laying around like a lump of shit', he thought.

After cruising through perfunctory toiletries on autopilot and throwing on an Army physical training uniform, just shorts and t-shirt considering the mild weather, he left the room quietly. He figured that, with nothing better to do, he might as well find someplace to work out. One way or another, he was sure that he was going to need to be in top physical condition from here on out.

As luck would have it, the first person he ran into was Walter, who, taking in Brad's attire, said, "Good morning, Sergeant Porter. Up for a bit of exercise, I see?"

Brad nodded, and said, "Seems like a good idea."

Walter nodded as well, and, pointing, said, "Well, if that's the case, you'll find the gymnasium down that hallway, toward the troop billets, and down the second stairway you come to. It's directly adjacent to the indoor range, in fact."

"Huh!" Brad said. "You've got a firing range and a gym in here? You guys are pretty self-sufficient, aren't you?"

Walter just smiled slightly, and said, "All things considered, we rather have to be."

"Makes sense, I guess," Brad said slowly, and then, "Well, thanks for the directions anyway. And- I don't suppose you have any idea when there might be any news from Sir Integra?"

With a thoughtful expression, Walter said, "No, unfortunately I don't. But as soon as I hear anything, I'll be sure to let you know."

Brad nodded slowly, and then said, "Alright." Then, frowning slightly, he said, "Oh, by the way; I don't suppose you'd happen to know where Sergeant Victoria is this morning? We had... kind of a long talk last night. She brought me up to speed on a lot of things, and I was sort of hoping... well, hell. I guess I was just hoping to talk to her some more today. She's really the only person I know around here."

Walter cocked his head just slightly, and said, "Miss Victoria is most likely asleep right now, it being daytime and all. She did explain her... condition last night, did she not?"

"Condition," Brad said in an amused tone. "Well, I guess that's one way to describe it. And, yeah, that makes sense; guess a little day light might be hazardous to her health."

"Oh," Walter said, "Don't put too much stock in whatever lore you might've picked up from the mass media. While some of it is relatively accurate, a great deal of it isn't."

Brad frowned slightly, and said, "Really. So you're saying that sun light WON'T hurt her?"

Walter nodded, and said, "Not appreciably, though, like most vampires, her eyes are rather sensitive. When she has to go out in the light, she prefers to wear sunglasses. Dark ones at that."

Slightly puzzled, Brad said, "Well, if that's the case, then why sleep the day away? Are vampires predisposed toward being nocturnal, or is it just a matter of preference?"

"A bit of both, actually," Walter said. "Vampires are rather vulnerable during the day, you see. For whatever reason, most of their more extraordinary abilities are dormant during daylight hours, whether or not they're actually out in the light. That, and they tend to become rather sluggish and a bit fuzzy-headed as well. Overall, it's much safer for them to spend the day slumbering in a nice safe, dark place. Or so I've been told."

Brad nodded slowly, and said, "Well, that all makes sense, I guess. In it's own little paradigm, anyway. And I guess that means I probably won't be running into Seras until sometime this evening. Assuming that I'm even here that long, of course."

"A fair assumption," Walter said mildly.

"Well then," Brad said, turning in the direction Walter had indicated, "Off to the gym, I suppose."

The rest of the day dragged by interminably for Brad. He just had no real idea what to do with himself while he waited for Sir Integra's decision. He spent a manic three hours in the gym, which included a full-body muscle failure weight work out, an hour divided between a stair climber and a treadmill, and most of another hour bloodying his knuckles and knees on a heavy bag.

After that, he took a few minutes to shower and change back at his room, and then found the firing range, which, luckily, was in use. With a little persuasion, he was able to convince the senior trooper present to let him join in and then spent another two hours cycling through various weapons systems, pretending the man-sized silhouette down range was the pale man from the night before. As usual, his marksmanship was more than fair, and tended to be better with handguns than with long arms. But, as far as he was concerned, there was a lot of room for improvement, and, one way or another, he planned on spending a lot more time on the range in the near future.

Once he'd had his fill of shooting, Brad found himself just wandering the mansion aimlessly. At some point, he'd realized that his stomach was trying to eat him from the inside out, and, even though food was the farthest thing from his thoughts, he figured that starving himself wasn't going to help him in the long run. After a bit more wandering, he found the kitchen without too much trouble, and, rather than bother anyone, slapped together a quick sandwich from the refrigerator. Then, rather than sit and eat, he simply took his snack with him, and continued to explore.

Eventually, Brad's random meanderings brought him to the library, and, for lack of anything better to do, he began to peruse the shelves. He found a number of titles that seemed interesting, mostly dealing with vampires and the occult in general, and he took these with him to a nearby desk for further consideration. As he read, he realized that these most likely weren't particularly important or definitive volumes; those were bound to be under lock and key somewhere else. Still, he figured that there was no real reason for Sir Integra to keep anything actually misleading in her 'public' library. After all, who but her own people and a few invited guests would ever see any of these books? And, in the end, it didn't really matter to him. Reading was something to do, whether the material was sound or not.

As was typical for Brad, once he became absorbed in reading, he basically lost track of time. He hardly noticed as the light coming through the library's windows slowly turned from bright yellow to burnt orange, and then slowly faded toward darkness. In fact, he was so engrossed in one of the volumes he'd found, a treatise on spirits, hauntings, and the underlying mystical principals, that he didn't even notice the arrival of another person in the room.

Finally, a polite, "Ahem," got his attention, causing his head to snap around quickly in the speaker's direction. Recognizing the new arrival, he relaxed, and said, "Seras. You're up." And then, glancing toward the darkening window, he said, "Wow. I guess I didn't realize how late it was getting."

Seras smiled just slightly, and, coming slowly over to where Brad sat, said, "I guess not. Found something interesting, did you?"

Brad cocked his head slightly, and with a bland expression said, "Mmm, not too bad. Not what I usually read, but Sir Integra's library seems to lean pretty heavily toward stuff like this."

Looking over his shoulder at the book in question, Seras nodded slowly, and said, "True enough. Which is why I don't spend a lot of time up here, I guess."

Closing the book abruptly, Brad stood and, strolling toward the window, said, "So. Did you come looking for me just because, or is there some news?"

Looking a bit sheepish, Seras said, "Well, kind of both, actually. Sir Integra did ask me to find you; she wanted to talk to you again. From the way she put it, I'm not sure she's quite made up her mind, though. I think she wants more to clarify some things, really."

Puzzled, Brad said, "Clarify some things? Like what?"

Seras just shook her head, and said, "I'm not sure. She only said that she had some things to ask you, that's all."

"Huh," Brad said, and then, "Well, what the hell. I guess if she's got questions, I'll try to give her answers. Whatever-the-hell she's looking for."

Seras was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider something, and then said, "Um, before we go to see her, there was something I wanted to talk to you about..."

Frowning slightly at her tone, Brad said, "Ok, I guess. Shoot."

"Well," Seras said slowly, "It's just- I hope I didn't put you off last night. I, uh, think I may've said a little too much once we got to really talking. You just asked me to tell you a little bit about Hellsing, and I, uh, kind of unloaded so to speak. I kind of doubt you wanted to hear all of the personal drivel I ended up throwing in. How I felt my first few weeks here, how... lonely and scared I was at times. All of that. It's not like you don't have enough problems of your own right now without being bothered by mine."

Brad sighed, and said, "Actually, I didn't mind that at all, Seras. I'd rather get a more... human appraisal of this place than some kind of a clinical overview. That, and, honestly, hearing your problems kind of helped take my mind off of mine. If that makes any sense."

She nodded slowly, and said, "I suppose it does." Then, after a somewhat awkward pause, she said, "So. Shall we? Sir Integra's waiting, after all."

"Sure," Brad said just a bit sardonically. "Why not?"

Standing once more in front of Sir Integra, Brad found himself far less nervous than he thought he should be. After all, thanks to what Seras had told him the night before, he now had a much better idea of just who this woman was and what she represented. And, given that, he knew that she could have an extremely profound effect on whatever was left of his life. But, he realized, it all boiled down to the same thing he'd known the last time he stood here. In the final analysis, he just couldn't bring himself to really give a damn about what happened from here on out. If she decided to have him shot and dumped in the Thames, well then, so be it. If not, then that was fine too. Either way, he just wanted to have it over with.

Finally, closing the rather bulky manila folder she'd been staring at since he'd entered the room, Sir Integra looked up at Brad and said, "Well, Sergeant Porter, as you can guess, the report I requested on you has been completed, and I've reviewed it fairly thoroughly."

Brad nodded just slightly, and said, "And?"

"And," she said slowly, "I have a few questions."

Frowning slightly, Brad said, "Ok, ma'am. Shoot. I've got nothing to hide."

Steepling her fingers in front of her, Integra said, "Hm. Well, first off, I must say that, for the most part, your record seems rather squeaky clean. All the way back into grade school, in fact. No arrests. No drug or alcohol related incidents. Not even any real fights. You don't find many records that clean, Sergeant Porter. Especially not these days."

"Implying what?" Brad said neutrally. "That you don't believe what's in there?"

Sir Integra frowned just slightly, and said, "Why? Shouldn't I?"

"Well," Brad said thoughtfully, "I guess what you've got there is a pretty good overview of things. I really haven't ever been in any really big trouble. And I seriously doubt any of the little things would've shown up in a day's worth of digging. But, just to clear the waters... Let's see. I was a little bastard all through grade school, and, if I hadn't been a little braniac too, I probably would've gotten in a lot more trouble than I did. But it was a small school, and all of the teachers knew all of the parents, so a lot of things got handled at the lowest levels, I guess you'd say." He paused for a moment, remembering, and then continued. "Junior high and high school were a little better and a little worse. I did most of the stupid things that all teenagers do, including a few run-ins with alcohol. But nothing that ever scored me a police record, or that ever put anybody except maybe me in any danger. And as for drugs, well... the truth is, I never had any inclination to try that garbage. I... watched my mother and her friends burn themselves out on that stuff back in the '70's and early '80's, and that was enough for me. Made me damn glad it was her parents, my grandparents, who raised me. God only knows what would've happened otherwise."

After another long pause, he said, "As for the military, well... I've had two summarized Article 15's. Non-judicial punishment, that is. The summarized version doesn't go into a soldier's permanent record, in case you're wondering; it's basically a hard slap on the wrist. The first one was for a dumb procedural error another private and I made way back in about 1990, and the second one... well, I deserved that one." Smiling sheepishly, he looked down briefly, then looked back up and continued. "I got a little drunk one night while we were deployed down to Panama, which in and of itself wasn't a big deal; it wasn't a 'dry' deployment and I was off duty that night. The problem was, somehow I ended up in a tug-of-war with one of my roommates over a damn mop, and when he jerked it out of my hands, I managed to fall down, knock myself out, and gash my head open. Naturally, the, uh, stuff hit the fan after that. And it didn't really help matters that once I woke up I was so freaked out that the CQ had to handcuff me to the gurney before the EMT's could haul me off to the hospital." He heard and ignored a muffled snicker from Seras behind him, and said, "And, really, that's about it. After that little fiasco, I got some counseling, and alcohol hasn't been a problem since. Of course, like everybody else, I screw up from time to time. But, from what you said last night, I'm sure you've read my evaluation reports. I've always done my job and made sure that the people who worked for me were taken care of, no matter what. Now, was there anything else you needed clarified, ma'am?"

Sir Integra stared at him intensely for a moment, and then said, "Just one thing, Sergeant Porter." She paused for a moment, mostly for effect, he thought, and then said, "I gather that Sergeant Victoria told you a bit about our organization last night, yes?"

Brad cocked his head just slightly, and said, "That's right."

Sir Integra nodded slowly, and said, "Then I assume she mentioned the... theological underpinnings of Hellsing as well."

Frowning again, Brad said carefully, "She mentioned that you were a Christian organization. That part of your mission was the defense of the Anglican Church as well as the Crown."

"Exactly, Sergeant Porter," she said slowly, and then, quietly, "And what, may I ask, are your religious feelings?"

Brad sighed loudly, and said, "Ah. I get it now." And then, tiredly, "Well, I was raised Southern Baptist, I suppose, although we really didn't go to church very much. I just kind of cruised along with that until I was a teenager, I guess, but then... I started asking a lot of questions. I'd always had a scientific mind, really, and, eventually, I just couldn't reconcile Christianity with science anymore. For quite a few years after that, I called myself an atheist." He paused then, sifting through his thoughts, and said, "That lasted into my early twenties. By then, I'd had a chance to do a lot of thinking, and had a few more life experiences, and, finally, I came to the conclusion that, while Christianity didn't have all the answers, neither did science. After that, I got interested in Eastern religions, and eventually settled on the Zen version of Buddhism. Granted, I've never had the time or resources to get as deeply into it as I've wanted to, but... Anyway, in the last few years, especially after Anja and I got together, I've started to incorporate a lot more things into my religious framework. Both of us were interested in Wicca, and a good friend of mine was a Wiccan priest. I don't buy everything that Wicca has to say, but some of it's ideas seemed to fit pretty well." Then, drawing a deep breath, Brad finished with, "So, overall, I guess you'd have to say that I've been slowly inventing my own religion. Nothing I want to push off on anybody else, of course, but my own way of... interpreting things that are bigger than science or organized religion can explain. My own way of connecting with it all, I suppose." And then, quietly, "So this is a problem, I guess?"

Sir Integra sighed, and said, "It's a- complication, shall we say. While you wouldn't be the first foreigner or even the first unbeliever recruited by Hellsing, we truly are Protestant Knights of the Church. If we were to let you in, so to speak, there are certain forms that must be followed, regardless of personal beliefs, and... how to put it. Well, simply speaking, Sergeant Porter, faith is an almost indispensable asset those who hunt what we hunt. Can you understand that?"

Still frowning, Brad said, "I see where you're going, ma'am. And, to be honest, I certainly can't say that my faith in any Judeo-Christian God is likely to be particularly strong any time in the near future. It scares me to think that a deity like that, if He does exist, just sits back and allows things like the bastard who killed my family to run loose. That He would allow something like that to happen to people as sweet and innocent as Anja and those children. There's no way I could ever understand a thing like that, I'm afraid." Pausing for a moment, he continued in a dark tone. "But there is one thing I have faith in right now, ma'am. I have the utmost faith in my resolve and my willingness to do anything it takes to send every last one of those FREAK bastards to whatever passes for a hell. And nothing short of death will stop me from going after them, regardless of whether you want me in your organization or not. Ma'am."

Sir Integra was silent for a very long time, still staring at Brad, staring through him, almost. Then, finally, she said, "Well, Sergeant Porter, you do make a rather convincing argument for yourself, at least." And then, the same bare hint of a smile gracing her lips as the night before, she said, "But I'm afraid if you're going to be a part of Hellsing, you're going to have to toughen up just a bit first. I took the liberty of making a few arrangements, contingent upon the outcome of this meeting, of course. One month from now, which should provide ample time for you to put your family to rest and tie up any necessary loose ends, you will report back here, ready to train. And that training will consist of the full SAS qualification course, for starts, for which you'll be spending a few lovely weeks with Her Majesty's Royal Army. After that, I think we can pick up in-house, and I believe I'll turn you over to the tender mercies of Sergeant Victoria for a little refresher course on S.W.A.T. and urban warfare tactics." Then, just a hint of sarcasm in her voice, she added, "Does that meet with your approval, Sergeant Porter?"

Mouth set in a hard, satisfied line, Brad just nodded slowly, and, in a low tone said, "Yes ma'am, I think it does."

Ok, that's it for chapter 5, and I apologize for the long-winded parts there. Also, I know that there's not a hell of a lot of action at the moment, but trust me, that's going to change before very much longer! Just hang on with me for now! As always, thanks for reading, and please, please review! (I'm a hell of a lot more likely to write if I know people are reading, and your feedback helps me straighten out whatever I'm messing up!)