(Author's Note: Reads last chapter, cries, dies, is resurrected by invisible dolphin shamans. Well, I do believe that was a good last chapter. Thank you Kitsunia, as usual, alucard's conscience, and TornadoReviewer for your support, suggestions, and general goodwill towards your fellow, if much crappier, author of fan fiction. Pauses. No, I won't do it. I will not acknowledge the fact that my audience is non-existent. IT'S NOT TRUE! IT'S NOT TRUE! By the way, I am making up scripture here, please don't take it seriously! Gets stabbed to death by Anderson (for extreme heresy), Anderson walks off, Z is resurrected by invisible dolphin shamans.)
Order 5:
Back at the hotel, Marcus walked into the room to find nothing unusual. If your idea of unusual did not include a Midian cleaning two very large guns on a coffee table and his fledgling screaming at one-eyed Frenchman, who was arguing back.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY YOU WANTED TO USE THE LOO! BULLSHIT, YOU WANTED TO SEE ME NAKED! AGAIN!" hollered Seras, clutching a towel around her chest. Her hair was still wet, and there was steam coming from the bathroom, cluing Marcus in on her shower.
Smiling, Pip replied "It is not my fault that I happen to forget what you are doing all the time. This was just an accident."
"IT'S THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK!"
Sighing, Marcus went into his room, took off his battle gear, and donned a t-shirt and khakis. Walking back to the living room (of course they can afford it), he sat on the couch, wishing he still had his mp3 player.
Though I personally disapprove of your choices tonight, my Master would be greatly pleased by the way you handled yourself tonight. You mastered flight faster than even Walter did; and he was the Angel of Death, came thoughts that were not his own. He turned to Alucard, who was putting away his guns. He had hung up his hat and coat, and set his glasses and guns on the table on the table, letting his shoulder length ebony hair frame his face.
For a while, Alucard sat there, thinking whatever demon-logic presented him with. Something was amiss, but what? Had he made a mistake? He recognized something, but could not put his gloved finger on it. He was about to continue down this mental path when he saw that Marcus had walked over to the shelf opposite him.
Marcus stood there for a moment, and then his body started shuddering slightly. Alucard was about to ask if he was alright when he smelled something he had not smelled in a little over ten years…human tears. With a cry of anger, Marcus swept all the objects off the shelf and onto the floor. Tears were coming unrelenting down his face now as he ran to a near by Victorian chair and kicked into the sofa. He picked up a lamp and threw it against the wall. He up-ended a table. He raged. He screamed. He cried.
"Is that all you have to say, you monster! Is that it? You and your kind take away my family, my house, my whole world! And all you have to say is some stupid complement on how I fly well? How dare you! Go to Hell!" he roared. With that he grabbed Alucard's Jackal, took aim with his shaking hand, and fired. The force of the gun threw the boy bodily into the wall behind him which knocked him unconscious. His shoot had been terribly wide, though it did manage to destroy the Victorian chair completely.
Seras and Pip were now peering into the room from their respective rooms (now fully clothed).
"What happened Master?" asked Seras.
"Nothing Police Girl, just a young man dealing with loss…" said the nosferatu. Alucard got up and walked over to the pile of trinkets that had been knocked off the shelf, and starred at it for a second. Not saying a word, he then walked over to Marcus, picked him up, and laid him onto his bed in his room. "Humans really are such emotional creatures. I'm going to sleep now. Good day," and with that, Alucard went to his room and closed the door.
Now thoroughly confused, Seras started to whine. "How come Master never explains what is going on? Not all of us ha-"
"Quiet Seras," said Pip. He had walked over to the pile of trinkets and picked up an object from underneath a candlestick. It was a picture of a smiling family that he recognized as the owner of the hotel's. They were all smiling and enjoying a cook-out in the country.
When Marcus awoke, all of his things were packed and his clothes for the day laid out for him. Walking out, he sat down at the kitchenette's bar where Pip was pouring orange juice. The mercenary glanced at him only once, then got down another glass and poured Marcus some juice.
Silence hung in the room, only punctuated by the swallowing of the orange juice. Finally Marcus broke the silence.
"I take it you heard all that last night?" Pip nodded.
"Sorry I bothered you captain, I-"
"You don't need to explain mon ami. Anyone who loses a loved one is entitled to a shout every now and then. You were upset and lashed out at whoever was nearest to you, though I must say you could have picked a better choice," said the Frenchman. "Now, however, we need to get out of Moscow. The Catholics probably know where we are, and I wouldn't put it passed them to send in another team to kill us. The vampires are asleep in their coffins and all our stuff is packed, so all we have to do is check out and leave!" he said brightly.
Marcus smiled and went to get dressed. Throwing on a red T-shirt and black cargo pants, he and Pip loaded their things into the rental car, checked out of the hotel, and drove out of the parking lot. As they drove threw downtown Moscow, he and Pip started singing a song about Eskimos at the top of their lungs with huge grins on their faces. Though he may have been hearing things, he was pretty sure he heard some moans from Seras's coffin during their march.
The car stopped a pay phone in a quiet side of the town, where Pip got out to make a call. As Marcus waited in the car, he hummed to his captain's march and drummed his fingers on the arm rest.
"Here, take it…" said a voice from the window that startled him. A figure in a black dress handed him a small rectangular item. He looked into his hands to see his mp3 player. Looking up, he saw a woman in a nun's outfit hurriedly turn around a corner and out of sight. After blinking several times, he smiled. I think I made a friend…
Pip got back into the car with a notepad in his hand. "Okay," he said. "Orders from Sir Integra are to head back to London immediately. Being in another country, we are way out of our jurisdiction, and as we have no reason to be here anymore, it's time to go home."
"Any more leads on the ice bitch?"
"No, unfortunately the trails ran cold. She doesn't say anything else either according to Walter. No 'How are you doing?' or 'Have you had a nice trip?' or 'Are you all still alive?' no nothing!" ranted Pip. "You would think she didn't care about us…" he pouted.
They drove to the airport where a private plane came to pick them up. After tipping the customs officials, they were on their way. Somewhere over the North Sea, Pip came over to talk to Marcus.
"Say Marcus… some of my men were wondering, and I was wondering too, why do you think Sir Integra treats you so special?" he inquired.
"I don't know…" Marcus replied uncomfortably. He had been wondering about this as well. "I think it's because of what happened to me… and I'm still a kid. The room's not all that great. It can get kinda cold in the winter time Walter said…" he stopped as Pip shook his head.
"No no no, we were all wondering why she had Walter stand outside your room every night. And why she really came down hard on Seras for fighting you. She's been doing a lot for you, like make sure that I was the one who trained you as well as I could, making sure you get the weapon that's best for you, and of course the room. I've even seen a lot of bat's fly past your window, if you know what I mean…" he said with a nod to Alucard's coffin.
Marcus stared at him in bewilderment. "I haven't seen any of that. I thought that she was just being nice with the room, but I had no idea about the rest of the stuff. Did she really do all of that? All the things you've said?"
"And maybe more," replied Pip. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Sir Integra rarely ever shows anyone any kind of compassion, except maybe Walter. She does care about her soldiers a lot, but has a strong sense of tough love. Maybe you should ask her when we get back."
They landed shortly after midnight in London, where Walter waited in a car to pick them up. Marcus considered asking him if Pip's rumors had some solidity to them, but decided to ask Sir Integra instead. While he had no problem with Walter, the old man and Marcus had never actually talked. Deep down, he wondered why Sir Integra kept him around. He had to be around sixty, though from the work he got, you would think he was in his prime. The guy was always doing something, whether it be repairing weapons, sweeping the halls, or making Sir Integra's tea. It seemed rather cruel of Integra to force all this work on one man when he should be in a retirement home, doing the things he loved instead of trying to keep up with the Hellsing Organization. Still, he had his uses still, Marcus thought. He joked to himself that if he ever needed some company late at night though, he had it.
On the way back, Walter and Pip were talking about the attack at the cathedral to themselves, leaving Marcus in the back to watch over the coffins. They couldn't be strapped down, and Walter said that Alucard would get angry if he was stowed away like luggage, so he and the butler loaded them on top of each other in the back seat leaving just enough room for Marcus to buckle-up.
Getting tired of seeing the same green blur of the trees and bushes speed by, Marcus turned to look inside the vehicle. As he looked at the two boxes, he took off his earphones and put a hand on Seras's coffin. It was fairly new he guessed, without any scratches or dents in the wood that showed it was fairly well looked after. He would have guessed that Seras would want to keep her bed tidy. The other coffin though, was different. Alucard's tomb was made of rich black wood, maybe ebony. It was polished with such care that the light from car reflected off the edges like it was a hunk of obsidian.
Marcus slowly lowered his hand from Seras's coffin to her master's. As his finger tips grew closer, it seemed that he could hear something from inside it, but he wasn't sure what it was. His hand was about to grab onto the box when he saw a gloved hand shoot out and grab his wrist, hard. His eyes followed the arm up to lock eyes with Pip's. Though they stared straight at him, Marcus got the sense that his captain wasn't all…there.
"Get your hand off my coffin…" Pip said in a stranger voice that did not belong to him. Marcus eyes widened as his tutor's grip on his hand turned from hard to painful. "Do not touch my coffin."
"Alucard, please release Captain Bernadette's mind. I can't have any distractions while I drive." said Walter. At once the mercenary blinked, the odd look gone from his eyes. He looked at his hand, saw his fingers digging into Marcus's wrist, and hastily apologized. Marcus stared at Walter the rest of the ride.
Pulling in front of the Hellsing mansion, Marcus moved to help Walter with the luggage as Pip strode in through the front doors. Casting a dry look at Pip's retreating form, he sighed and picked up his bags and one of Seras's.
"Oh don't worry about that, Mr. Banks. I'll be bringing them to your rooms," said Walter.
"No, don't worry about it. You go inside, I'll take care of these-
"I assure you Mr. Banks, I am quite capable of carrying these inside," interrupted Walter with an even tone in his voice that Marcus didn't catch.
"Don't be ridiculous, you might break your hip or something. Imagine an old man like you trying to lug these ammo cases around!" said Marcus with a laugh. As he walked into the mansion, he didn't see Walter's cheery disposition slip into annoyed frustration.
After putting the luggage away, he went to Sir Integra's office to look for Pip. He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" came Sir Integra's sharp question.
"Private Banks Sir, I was looking for Captain Bernadette," Marcus said in the military tone he had practiced in his head.
"J-Just a second!" Integra said.
A few footsteps and an opened door later, he was standing next to Pip who was glancing at him nervously, though he was facing Integra.
"Private Banks, I would like to hear your view of the attack in the St. Thomas Cathedral, as Captain Bernadette said he was absent for most of the sortie."
So Marcus told her what happened from their arrival at the holy ground to their departure. He decided to leave out the part about his mp3 player, as he was sure this would be a bad idea. After finishing his story, he stole a glance from Pip, who winked at him. Or it may have been a blink, he couldn't tell with the eye patch. Sir Integra seemed satisfied with the story, as he was then dismissed. She did ask for Pip to stay behind to discuss the journey, but he was already on his way to his room.
Once there Marcus flopped down on his bed. Reaching into his pocket, he got out his mp3 player and felt the smooth plastic and "metal" skin of the outside shell. Smiling, he placed it on his dresser and walked out to the balcony. With a sigh, he sat down on the balcony's ledge with his back leaning against the building's wall. There was a breeze in the night sky that blew his hair around his face, making him tuck in behind an ear.
He was sitting there for almost ten minutes, just gazing into the night sky when he heard a chuckle from above him. With a gasp, Marcus stood up to see Alucard standing over him, his feet planted firmly on the sides of the wall as if he were standing on solid ground. The vampire had that sly grin plastered on his face of one who knows too much for his own good.
"Though you seem to deny it, we are actually quite similar…" said Alucard.
With a gulp, Marcus responded. "What do you mean?"
"For instance, you see how old Walter is getting. Maybe no one told you, but I think a look into the file marked "Angel of Death" would clear up any foolish notions you have of the man. And while you're in the archives you may want to also research the history of the Iscariot Agency. Even your mind should be able to see the logic in that." He paused, the said "There are also two other differences between us Marcus Banks, but I will only reveal one of them: we both love what we can't have."
With that, the nosferatu walked into a shadow in the wall and was gone, leaving Marcus blushing and thoroughly confused. Damn he's good at finding things I try to hide, Marcus thought. "Can I help it if I notice nun's a freaking hottie!" he shouted to the night. It must have heard him, because he heard that chuckle again as he closed the doors to the balcony.
(Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update this one. I had a short problem with bayonets recently that kept me pretty tied. Sorry. Also, Anderson will have his time to shine in a later chapter…I have big plans for our favorite Scottish, bayonet wielding, Catholic assassin. And in case someone tries to dispute me on the matter of Yumiko's hotness, just look at the picture of her in volume two, page 173 of the manga when she's wearing that little maid's outfit and she looks soooo freaking cute. And Yumie! Wow. She is one sexy mama! Straight women, trust me, you would want her too. Ahhhhh! Is chased offstage by a certain katana wielding nun. Then runs across stage in the opposite direction. Then does it again. And again. And again. And again. And again…)