As Seras made her way with a large bunch of flowers towards the hospital quarters in the Hellsing Mansion, she noted the gentle tranquillity as a sharp contrast to the firing range. It was completely surreal, she thought, the gentle female tones of the passing nurses was a pleasant change to the harsh mocking voices of the male soldiers. The peaceful atmosphere was further assimilated by the spotless white walls decorated with a selection of cheerful watercolour paintings of lakes and flowers. She wondered whether Sir Integra appreciated the innocent delicacy that the decorators had leant to this section of the house.

As she reached the room which she knew to be Integra's own private ward, she noted the darkness behind the ajar door and guessed that the noble woman might be sleeping. Though she might be wrong; it was possible that Integra had reacted with distaste towards the cheerful brightness of the hospital corridors, and had chosen to match the tones of her living quarters back at the main house, in her current refuge. "Better to check, just in case," Seras whispered to herself, considering that the flowers she had brought Integra would droop unless she could put them in a vase of water. Cautiously, she brought her round, curious eyes close to the gap between the door and its frame, to view if there were any signs of physical activity in the injured Hellsing.

The figure by Integra's bedside appeared as a silhouette against the golden light that shone from behind the large, floor-length windows. There were no lights on inside the ward, and spare this natural light casting a warm glow near to the sitting figure, there was complete darkness. This was accompanied by an eerie stillness in the room that made Seras, watching from the doorway, almost mistake the being for a statue in his calm, controlled posture as he watched over the sleeping Hellsing in the oppressive silence. She was resting peacefully, her chest rising and falling at a steady pace as she breathed easily in sleep.

Even though Seras was granted the more attentive sensitivities of sense as a vampire, she was unable to make out who the figure was by his arched back, preventing her from seeing his face. As she leaned closer with anticipated curiosity in order to make out who it was by Integra's bedside, she accidentally nudged the door slightly, which made a creak that startled her sensitive ears. It was her surprised squeak rather than the noise the door made against the wooden floor that caused Anderson to draw his attention away from Integra, towards her.

"Sorry!" she whispered timidly, backing away from the door, "I'll come back later." She gently closed the door to, and Anderson turned his attention back towards Integra, whose eyelids were flickering as she began to awake.

She blinked as her eyes struggled to focus, and was surprised to feel gentle fingers carefully placing her glasses upon the ridge of her nose, helping her to see more clearly. Raising a bandaged hand, she wiped away the sleep from her eyes, and gazed upwards at the figure watching over her. As her crystal blue eyes became conscious of who it was, she visibly relaxed and curved her lips into a small smile. "Hello."

"Hi."

Her peripheral vision caught the sight of something red to her left and she turned her eyes from Anderson to see what it was that had attracted her attention. She frowned when she registered the array of crimson petals belonging to a large bouquet of roses by her bedside. Her face flushed.

"Maxwell sends his love," Anderson supplied. He knew what she had presumed. He watched with relief as she grinned before breaking into a harsh chuckle.

"Tell him, thanks for the concern," she said sardonically.

"How are you?"

"I've been better," she croaked, before asking, "Could I get a glass of water?" Anderson got up and crossed to the other side of the room, where the nurse had placed on a small desk (supplied should Integra wish to progress with her paperwork) a jug of water and two glasses. He poured her a glass and moved back towards her bedside, handing her her water, which she took gratefully.

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. He took the glass once she had drained it from her hands and placed it beside the flowers on the small bedside table. A brief silence followed between them, which was filled by the innocent sound of a bird chirping merrily outside. Anderson turned his head towards the window and sighed, before raising the question he had been wanting to ask. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I remember physical pain that I've not had to endure in a long time."

"You've been through a lot."

"Mmm."

He started sharply when he felt pressure applied against his arm, and turning back towards her, was surprised with what he saw. Her small bandaged hand was gently squeezing his forearm and blue eyes were looking into his with pure gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

His cheeks flushed red, and he was rather grateful for the distraction that came from Seras as the door again crept open and her small face popped from behind the doorframe. Integra turned her head and smiled, and on seeing her master, Seras beamed.

"She's been itching to see if you're alright."

"How are you Sir Integra?" she called.

"I'm alive, which I'm more than thankful for." A thought came to her quickly, and before she could help herself, she asked, "How is…" before realising the presumptuousness of her tone. Seras misinterpreted what she was about to say, and bubbled, "Oh, I'm fine!"

"Alucard's not here." Anderson supplied, in less than a whisper.

"What?" she asked. She felt his arm tense.

He was frustrated with the change in her expression, her eyes now read with a look of concern, and he again felt the anger that he had since repressed, bubble up once more inside of him.

"Father?" she asked inquisitively. Seras watched from the doorway, noting the tension in Father Anderson's raised shoulders, and wondered concernedly whether he was intending to hurt Sir Integra. She felt in her back pocket for her gun to check it was there.

"Who knows." He snapped, and stood up abruptly.

His hair fell over his face, preventing Integra from seeing the fresh tears in his eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, the demon can rot in hell." With that he stormed angrily out of the building, Seras stepping well out of his way as he left the room.