To say that things had gone vastly awry would be the understatement of the decade. Walter looked at the boot in front of his face and expected it to draw back and do a passable imitation of David Beckham scoring a winning goal with his head.

Instead, rough hands grabbed his bound arms and jerked him to his feet. His lips thinned with the effort to make no sound as his old bones creaked and protested the maltreatment. He looked around at the corpses of what had been the RPK before the two brothers and their hordes of ghouls had overwhelmed Hellsing's defenses.

How had they known to attack now? With both Alucard and Seras on missions out of the country, the two vampires had easily overrun Hellsing, and while Walter had done his level best to make them all pay for their temerity, age had not been kind to him. He winced as the pain bloomed in his head at being set upright and he swayed on his feet.

"Nah, nah, Alfred, you ain't goin' down that easy." A hand roughly propelled him toward a straight-backed chair. "You. Plant yourself in that chair."

Walter stumbled as his head whirled and his stomach voted that he should vomit his earlier meal. With an effort, he caught himself and forced his gorge down again. "What are you planning to do with-"

The man shoved him down onto the chair and Walter winced when his elbow banged against the chair back. "I said plant yourself. Plants don't talk."

Walter sat and watched the man who had brought down the Angel of Death. How embarrassing to be laid low by some freak with more metal in his face than Walter used in some of his new lightweight guns - Jan Valentine, he'd proclaimed himself on the Hellsing loudspeaker system.

Jan leaned down right into Walter's face. "Those were some neat tricks you pulled, Alfred. Too bad old age left you just a little too slow, huh old man?"

"Untie me and I'll show you how slow I am." Walter held no hope that the man would do so and was unsurprised when Jan only laughed at him. "And my name is not Alfred."

"Nah, man. You might be our guy on the inside, but I was warned about you. I ain't lettin' you loose until his people come to get you and the bitch who runs this two-bit outfit."

"Man on the inside? I am nothing of the sort." If there was one thing in his life Walter was certain of, it was his loyalty to Sir Integra and to Hellsing. And where was Sir Integra? He hadn't seen her since he'd left the council room to dispose of the trash in the hallway, but at least the man's words implied that she was still alive.

Of all the times for old age to catch up to him, this was precisely the wrong one. He hadn't been fast enough to keep the swarthy vampire from hitting him with the butt of his assault rifle. That was the last thing he knew until he woke on the floor of the council room, arms bound behind him and his hands naked without their familiar gloves. He was helpless and unarmed, and his first sight upon waking was the staring face of Sir Irons just feet away from him on the floor. Sir Irons might be one of the lucky ones.

Jan only laughed at him again and leaned back on the long council table. "It doesn't matter if you think you are or not. You've been telling them everything that goes on around here for the past ten years. Ever since your trip to South America just before the Hellbitch took over this two-bit organization."

Walter frowned. What was the freak saying? He'd gone to South America just before Arthur Hellsing had died, granted, but he'd made no deals with anyone. He'd never betray Hellsing. He'd die first.

"I know what you're thinking, Alfred. 'I'd never do that.' But you did. You've been telling them every move you make for the past ten years, whether you knew it or not." He tapped his forehead and then the back of his neck. "They chipped you like a pet, man. You didn't even know it. Went to sleep one night in your hotel room snug as a bug in a rug and woke up the next day with a headache and a bit of a backache and I bet you just wrote it off as getting old."

It had been ten years. Had it really happened that way? Walter was never one to pay much attention to aches and pains. The more you noticed them, the more they bothered you, after all. Had he been a traitor? He slumped in the seat as horror overtook him at the thought.

"C'mon Alfred, we're going to be buddies for a while. Let's talk." Jan took a swig from a bottle filled with a suspicious red fluid. Walter looked away, not wanting to think about whose blood that might be.

"My name is not Alfred," he grated.

"Yeah, yeah, Walt. How'd you get so old workin' 'round here?"

"I'm not answering any of your questions." Walter was still shaken by the idea that he was responsible for Hellsing's downfall.

Jan stretched. "Man, I'm bored. You answer my questions; I'll answer some of yours. The killing's over for the day and I didn't even get to rape that bitch. Throw me a bone unless you want me to try breaking a few of yours."

Walter closed his eyes and nodded. Integra was alive and Jan hadn't fulfilled the threats he'd made during the attack. He'd hold out for a chance to redeem this disaster.

"So how'd you get so old?"

"The usual way, I suppose. I just kept living."

"Did you ever have a life other than Hellsing?"

Frowning, Walter opened his eyes, "When are you going to answer some of my questions?"

"When I'm less bored. Answer my questions." Jan slid back onto the table and folded his legs under himself. "Did you ever have a life besides being the faithful servant? Wife, two point four kids, a house with a white picket fence?"

"No."

"No girlfriends, no boyfriends, no pet sheep?"

Walter looked at the floor, fascinated briefly by the patterns the blood spray from Sir Irons' head wound had left on the gleaming wood. "I was engaged once."

"Why didn't you marry her?"

"She died," Walter answered flatly.

Jan leaned forward, looking interested. "Vampires? Did vampires kill your chickie and that's why you're the badass vampire killin' butler now?"

"No."

"Then how'd she die? Stop making me pull teeth here and tell me the story."

"Car wreck." Walter grimaced and looked away from the fascinated vampire. He felt like he was feeding him blood from his heart by revealing personal details of his past.

"Died instantly?"

Walter shook his head, "Not quite. She was trapped in the wreck for six hours before she passed on."

Jan slapped his knee with a bizarre kind of commiserating humor, "Whewww! Those acts of God really stick it in and break it off, don't they?"

Walter looked around at the dead bodies of the men who had run England and the punk vampire and was about to answer with his opinion on acts of God when their conversation was interrupted by a hatefully familiar voice from the past, "Ah, Herr Valentine, excellent. I see you have secured our Butler."

The fat man stood in the doorway, flanked by his mad scientist and his attack dog and Walter's heart sank. Memory flooded back and he knew that he had been the viper at Hellsing's breast. It took all of his long years of pride and discipline not to beg them to kill him then and there.

AN: Standard disclaimer applies. Hellsing and all of its characters belong to Kohta Hirano and I make no claim to ownership nor any money from my writing.

This one is different for me. I've never written a "what if" AU before from so much earlier in the canon storyline. This fic was written in response to verdandi24's LJ challenge to write a fic using quotes from the movie "From Dusk til Dawn," and I owed zimon66 a fic involving Jan Valentine, thus I killed two vamps with one stake.

The quotes: Seth: (talking to Jacob Fuller about his wife's death in a car crash) Died instantly?
Jacob: Not quite. She was trapped in the wreck for about six hours before she passed on.
Seth: Whewww! Those acts of God really stick it in and break it off, don't they?

and

Seth: to Hostage Gloria You. Plant yourself in that chair.
Hostage Gloria: What are you planning on doing with...
Seth: I said plant yourself. Plants don't talk.