Disclaimer: I SO don't own Hellsing. This is just non-profit fanfiction, okayyyyy?
A/N: It took me awhile to get this chapter the way I wanted it! It's rather long, so I hope it's worth the wait. In answer to a reviewer's question, NO this story is not done yet! I have a lot I want to do to – ahem, with – these characters before I'm finished. Read, enjoy and review, folks!
Chapter Four
Seras awoke with a frantic cry and thrashed violently for a moment. Then sense reasserted itself and she opened her eyes, shuddering. Her hands clutched at the mattress below her convulsively.
"Easy girl," said a gruff voice from across the room. "Yer alright." She sat up shakily and looked over at the priest lying on his cot. It took a moment to sink in that he'd actually said something reassuring to her, and when it did she gave him a glance full of bewilderment.
She had been lying on the ground with swords piercing her body. She had been bleeding badly, scorched by the blessings and the silver of the blades. Her vision had darkened as her Master stepped in to face down the raging new paladin. Again she shuddered, her hands going involuntarily to her body. She was surprised that there was no pain, and when she looked, no wounds either. What had happened?
Anderson read her confused look correctly.
"Yer master stepped in ta save ye," he told her. "And brought ye back her ta heal ye." His green eyes met hers and she was puzzled by the weird emotions swirling in them. "Ran his tongue over yer wounds an closed them, fed ye blood from his wrist, then fed ye three donor packs o'blood."
Seras ran a shaky hand through her hair. Her master had gone to such lengths to save her?
: Of course, Police Girl. : Alucard's voice was amused in her mind. : As if I would let one of mine be slaughtered by a Vatican dog. : She was a bit surprised at the underlying tone of protectiveness in his voice. It was very faint, though – perhaps she was imagining it. His tone grew stern. : You would not have been in so much trouble if you weren't nearly starved. Drink your blood, Seras Victoria! :
"Y-yes, my Master," she murmured, head bowed at the force of his words. The young vampire climbed unsteadily out of her coffin. She could feel how much she needed blood right now. The need was so strong her fangs ached.
There was a strangled cough from the cot, and she looked up in time to see a red-faced Anderson turn his head frantically to the wall.
"Ye might want ta change yer uniform, girl!" he sputtered. Blinking, wondering when she'd gone from 'demon' to 'girl', she looked down at her uniform again. This time the gaping tears and holes in the fabric registered.
"Eep!"
Seras scrambled into fresh clothing and removed several blood packs from the refrigerator, placing them on the table with a sigh. Anderson cautiously looked back at her, visibly relieved when he saw she was fully dressed again. She couldn't help but smirk a little. He was cute when he was blushing.
Seras blinked and shook her head, hard. Where had that thought come from? She must really be blood deprived...!
"Yer master said..." he spoke almost hesitantly. "That this was done by a – regenerator."
"Yeah." She sat down and stared at the blood packs, her mind shuddering away from her memories of the night. "Called himself Paladin Gabriel Michaelous. And he regenerated just like you, even used blades and holy papers like you did." The look she gave him started out reproachful, then became startled at the pale expression on his face. "What?"
"Maxwell said there were nae any other regenerators," he spoke almost to himself. "Nae any." He passed a hand over his eyes. Seras started.
"You can move again!" she gasped. He blinked at her, then an honest smile, one of the first she'd seen on him, crossed his face.
"Nae much. Just my shoulders and arms." He demonstrated by rubbing his scraggly jaw. "So I can feed myself now, girl." The vampire snickered a bit at the memory of her little 'airplane' stunt. Then his face dropped again, the dull look returning to his green eyes. Seras was starting to realize something wasn't quite right here. "What are ye gonna do with me then, vampire? What'll ye do when I'm healed? What are ye plans for me?"
"I didn't really think it over much," she replied honestly, and poked the blood pack in front of her absently. "I was really just keeping you here so you couldn't go wreaking havoc in England while Sir Integra is in prison. When she gets out...it'll be her decision, but my bet is you'll be presented back to the Vatican...all tied up in a red ribbon, probably." She tried a weak smile, but it failed at the look on his face. He looked like a man who'd lost his best friend and a lot of the anger and venom seemed to have been drained out of him. He looked – lost. "What's wrong with you?"
"The Judas Priest found out he's been replaced," said the deep voice of Alucard as he slid through the wall to stand at the foot of the cot.
"Laugh all ye want, demon," Anderson said tiredly. The lack of malice in his voice startled both the vampires.
"What are you talking about, Master?" Seras queried. The red-coated man explained what the new paladin had said. Anderson kept his eyes on the ceiling throughout, refusing to look at either of them.
"But – that doesn't make any sense!" protested the young woman when the elder vampire was done. "Why would they just – something's not right." She stood up, swaying a bit. "Something isn't adding up." Her brows knitted. "And I think it's got to do with the way you've been acting. The longer you've been here, the calmer you've gotten, Anderson." The priest turned to look at her, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. "It's like you're not who you were when we've fought you before."
"What are you saying, police girl?" asked Alucard with great interest.
"I'm not sure, Master." Seras frowned. "When I was in D-11, I saw personality changes like that – and usually they were chemically induced. But I don't think you're the type to be doing drugs, now are you Anderson?" He shook his head. Alucard looked thoughtful.
"I will bring this to my Master's attention," he said. "If what you're saying is correct police girl...it could be useful." He faded out of the room.
"Yer being daft," the priest said with a little more strength. "I was nae being drugged!"
"Then why are you acting so calm? You were like a rabid dog half the time we fought before."
"Real nice, police girl," Anderson snapped. She managed a grin, the familiar nickname Alucard had given her sounding so strange coming from the wounded priest.
"That's a little better. I don't mind being able to actually talk to you, but moping really doesn't suit you."
"I was not moping," he replied, offended.
"Sulking?"
"No!" He fumed. She laughed a little. It really didn't suit him to act so terminally depressed. For some reason, it bothered her to see it. Then she looked down at the blood packs and sighed deeply. She had to force herself to drink these somehow. She could feel how shaky and weak she still was.
"Now who's sulking?" Anderson asked. Seras glared half-heartedly at him.
"I'm not sulking. I'm just...thinking."
"Oh, aye." He raised a blonde eyebrow at her. "I don't understand ye, police girl. Yer a vampire. Why don't ye drink blood?"
"It's not that simple!" protested the girl vehemently. He crossed his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying being able to move them again.
"An why not?"
"It's none of your business," she replied almost sullenly, again poking at one of the blood packs with her finger.
"Well, lass, I am a priest. I'm qualified to hear confessions." His tone was so dry that she laughed in surprise, startling herself.
"I'm not Catholic, Anderson, and I don't believe in confession anyway. If I had anything to say to god, it's between me and him and doesn't need a human go between!" His eyes narrowed.
"We can argue about that later. Are ye gonna talk about it or keep sulking about it? I'm offerin ye an ear here – take it or leave it."
She glared at him. He looked back calmly – not an expression she was accustomed to seeing on his face.
"Do ye need someone else ta start? Fine then, police girl – I was thinkin o'er what ye said the other day, and ye were right. I –" His eyes darkened and a look of self-recrimination passed over his face. "I murdered those soldiers of yers." His face twisted. "The only thing they were guilty of was bein in the wrong place at the wrong time."
She gaped at him, mouth falling open so far her fangs glinted in the light. He met her gaze steadily, green to red.
"You really are different," Seras finally said almost shakily.
"Aye," he agreed softly, almost inaudibly. "I owe a great penance, lass, an maybe I can start it by helpin ye, who hunts down the FREAKS, be stronger. Will ye talk ta me?" There was a weary despair and a hint of desperation in his voice. He really meant it. There was a pause, and she took a deep, unnecessary breath.
"At first...I was scared. I was trying to hold onto my humanity, even though I wasn't human anymore. Drinking blood would have been like – giving up somehow." Her voice strengthened as she kept talking. Neither noticed a pair of red eyes open in the shadows in the corner of the room.
"After awhile though, it sort of became obvious that there wasn't really...a point. I wasn't human anymore – drinking blood or not. But I was still nervous – that by drinking the blood I would lose myself, somehow, even though I drank once and didn't feel any different. That lasted until I met a vampire called Helena." Her eyes saddened. "She'd been made a vampire when she was only a little girl – and she was frozen in that body for all time. She kept to herself, surrounded by books. And she drank blood – but was still....a person."
Seras paused, grimacing at the memory of what Incognito had done to the child-vampire. Anderson waited, his eyes a mystery.
"I even – you know – drank a little of Commander Farguson's blood after he was shot at the tower. It felt right – like I was preserving a little bit of him in me that way." She opened and closed her hands slowly, reliving the pain of watching the man she respected fall. "But even when everything else about humanity and keeping myself was settled there was still one thing left. The most important thing." There was another pause.
"My father was a police officer, Anderson." The young vampire leaned back in her chair. "He was shot in the line of duty." Her sentences became more clipped, and the priest was startled to see bloody tears in her eyes. "They brought him to the hospital. He needed a transfusion. There was a shortage, they'd had an emergency earlier – there was no blood." Her fists clenched.
"He died because there was no blood. And every time I go to drink one of these," her closed hand gestured at the blood pack, "all I can think is that somewhere someone else's father could be dying for lack of it, while I use it as it wasn't intended by the donator, to keep my unlife going."
There. She'd said it, admitted it out loud at last. She waited for the Catholic to laugh at her foolishness, to mock her weakness.
And waited.
Finally she peeked up through her bangs at Anderson. He was still on his back with his hands behind his head. He was gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling, his brow furrowed slightly.
"I can see why that would bother ye so much, police girl," he said finally. Seras gaped at him, not expecting that. "No matter what ye may become, ye started out human, and human things can trouble ye. Look at me, if it makes ye feel better."
He looked at her, raising his shaggy eyebrows. "My father was a ravin alcoholic who beat the daylights out of me an me mother on a daily basis. I never touched a drop of the stuff till I became a regenerator. Then it turns out that the metabolism's so high it burns out some of the things my body needs – so I have to drink almost every day."
She blinked at the personal knowledge. He did understand. How very strange...
"But I kin tell ye this much, lass," he said. "Maxwell looked high an low to find out where Hellsing was gettin the blood for its vampires from. And all his lookin couldn't find nothing. Wherever ye get that blood supply," he nodded at the pack still sitting on the table. "It ain't from any hospital or donor center in England, I can tell ye that much."
"With good reason." Alucard materialized out of the wall. Seras stood up so fast she knocked the chair to the floor.
"M-Master? You were listening?" she stammered. "I thought you went to talk to Sir Integra." Anderson was frowning at the elder vampire's intrusion.
"All this time here and it's the Judas Priest who uncovers the secret behind the police girl's reluctance to drink." He looked amused. The priest actually rolled his eyes at the derogatory moniker. "This mansion houses the most advanced blood storage system my master could acquire. The blood in these bags is collected from the Hellsing soldiers, police girl."
"What?" gasped Seras. His red eyes never left hers.
"The soldiers donate monthly to the supply. There is blood there from every soldier who has passed through these walls. Given to support the midians who handle the FREAKS too strong for their weak mortal abilities."
Anderson looked impressed at that, if still disbelieving that these vampires, even the great monster Alucard, fed mostly on donated blood. The poor fledgling vampire looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth in shock.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she burst out finally. "Master! Why didn't you or Walter or someone tell me before?"
"No one ever thought it made a difference," he retorted. "I'd tell you to forget about the manner your father died, to leave it with the rest of your mortal life, but I already know it would fall on deaf ears." Seras blushed. Alucard smirked. "So now you know that the blood was never meant for hospitals, Seras Victoria. Drink!" And he turned and stalked out of the room, directly through the door without pausing.
Anderson and Seras looked at each other in shock a moment, and then, unaccountably, began to laugh. It was strained, somewhat hysterical laughter to be sure, but laughter all the same.
"So," said the young woman when she'd gotten herself under control, "you need alcohol?"
"Aye," he grimaced. "It is gettin to the point where it's necessary."
"Good."
"Good?"
"I think I have a way to get this over with more easily for the both of us...."
Alucard strolled through the halls of the underground, ambling back to the room where his fledgling and the paladin were housed. His master had given him orders pertaining to the Judas Priest, and he would be certain both of them knew what he was going to do. As he approached the door, he began to hear strange noises from within the room.
THUMP! "Beat that, paladin!" The police girl.
THUMP! THUMP! "I jus' did, vampire!" The priest.
THUMP! "I'm still ahead of you."
THUMP! THUMP! "No yer not – ye lost count that's all."
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! "Beat that, Judas Priest!"
"Damnit, Draculina, that's cheatin!"
Thoroughly curious now, Alucard phased through the door and stepped into the room. His eyes widened behind his orange glasses.
The priest was sitting propped up with the table right along side him. Across from him sat the police girl. On the table between the two were numerous shot glasses that appeared to have been collected from all over the mansion. Many were empty. A number were filled with what smelled like the good brandy Walter kept hidden. Slightly fewer were filled with blood.
Anderson snatched up a shot glass and gulped the contents down, then slammed the glass on the table. This resulted in the 'thump' that Alucard had been hearing. To his surprise and delight, Seras snatched up two glasses of blood, gulped them one after the other, and slammed the glasses down on the table. From the empty bottles and blood packs lying discarded on the floor, this had been going on for some time.
"Got over your reluctance, did you police girl?" The elder vampire asked. Both of them looked up at him in surprise, wearing nearly identical buzzed expressions on their faces.
"Master!" Seras jumped up, and swayed a little. Alucard's eyebrows lifted. She'd actually drunk enough to be – well, drunk – off the blood.
"Good ta see ye again, demon," Anderson lifted a glass towards the vampire. "Yer fledgling's been losin ta me in this bout all night long!"
"I have not!" The girl protested, picking up a glass and offering it to her master. Highly amused, he accepted it and drank it. She beamed at him and absently licked a spilled drop off her hand like a cat cleaning its paws.
"You're blood drunk, police girl," he told her.
"And he's bloody drunk," she replied cheerfully, indicating Anderson before sitting back down. "I feel good, master. For the first time in – a long time."
"You caught up on what your body needed, police girl."
Who'd have thought having the Judas Priest here would have resulted in this? His amused grin widened. He really ought to find one of those cameras that Walter was so fond of. This might be an excellent blackmail opportunity.
"Good," Seras yawned, curling the tip of her tongue upwards. "Why are you here master? No missions for you either?"
"I've been ordered by my master," he told her with a smirk, "to investigate into the priest's dismissal and change of behavior. So I will be gone for a while. You will have to take care of the FREAKS in my absence, police girl."
"You can count on me, master," Seras replied solemnly, the effect spoiled by her hair falling down over one eye. She picked up another shot glass, then frowned and put it down. "I'm not thirsty any more. Finally."
Alucard's smile took on a hint of pride. His fledgling, even in this state, was controlled enough to drink only as much as she was thirsty for. Not like those pathetic bonny-and-clyde imitations that had slaughtered and drunk past their fill on the police girl's second mission in Hellsing.
Anderson had fallen asleep in the meantime, his head back and displaying his throat quite temptingly. Amazing what alcohol could do to a human's survival instincts. Too bad a bloodstream full of alcohol tasted so wretched. Chuckling to himself, the elder vampire left the room, wondering if the priest's regeneration abilities would do anything to stop the hangover he knew would follow such a binge. He hoped not.
Back in the room, Seras was absently cleaning up the remains of the drinking contest. She still felt light headed and buzzed, but also quite good. And sleepy. Dawn was approaching. She started for her coffin, then paused and turned around. Quietly she moved the table away from the cot and knelt beside the sleeping priest.
Quick as thought, she leaned down and kissed the man softly on the forehead.
"Never thought I'd say this, but...thank you, Anderson."
And she went to her coffin and curled up happily for her day's sleep.