The DPSD troops of Diamond Base were flown home overnight. Before leaving Emerald, Matthew joined Roland in reporting to Lieutenant Colonel Richard. They gave a thorough report of the battle, Matthew informing Richard of Armen's unfortunate death. No one was blamed. In the end, the mission was a success. The Global Fang threat was, if nothing else, significantly reduced.

As he left, Roland spoke up. "Hold up a minute." He'd followed Matthew into the corridor.

Matthew did so, looking at the black man. "Something I can do for you?"

"Yeah. Could you listen for a sec?"

Matthew nodded. "Of course."

Roland sighed. "I wanted to apologize for how I acted when you got here. I only saw another vampire, not a possible ally."

Matthew raised a hand. "Roland, it's ok. I understand completely. Now if you'd gone and shot me, we'd have a bit of a problem."

"Please, let me finish." He hadn't chuckled at Matthew's attempt at humor. "I saw what you did for John. Wish I'd gotten there in time to save him, but you got to him first. I was thinking you'd turn him, but you respected his wishes. I wanted you to know you've got my respect, and that of everyone here. If we ever need help, we'll call Hellsing first. When you catch up with Breka, or if you ever need help, give us a call."

Matthew nodded. "Will do." He extended a hand. "Until next time."

Roland took it and shook. "Until next time."

Ten minutes later, Matthew was in his room packing. With his mission complete, he had no business in the United States. 'At least,' he thought, 'no authorized business.'

Another thought came. 'But you saved your home. Isn't that enough?'

He answered it. "What's the point in saving home if I can't see it?" He paused, sighed, and resumed packing.

Matthew had finished writing a letter to John's family, having offered to write it during the debriefing. He'd said that while he'd only known John for a short while, he knew John to be a superb soldier and a great friend.

He got back to backing. A flurry of questions assaulted him as he worked. How close had be been to loosing control back there? How had his demon found a way to slip into his normal thoughts? Would it try to take over again? Would it succeed? That first taste of the power he possessed… "Now I understand Seras's reaction," he noted aloud. He would try to keep a mental eye on it, ensure it didn't escape from its mental corner again. 'What else can I do?'

His thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected ring. He walked over to the telephone, grabbed the receiver, and held it to his ear. "Jemeth."

"A call for you, sir," a voice replied.

"Put it through." He had no idea who would be calling him, but as the phone clicked to change lines he knew he would find out momentarily. "Jemeth," he said again.

"Ah, it's good to hear your voice, Mr. Jemeth. I trust all is well?"

"Walter!" Matthew finally smiled. "Great to hear from you. What's the word?"

"First, I was calling for an update."

"Ah, of course." Matthew sat at the desk, leaning back. "The mission itself was a success. The Global Fangs are pretty hurt right now. Breka got away. The DPSD are gathering intel now."

"So Ms. Victoria told us. We've linked with the DPSD computers. When they know anything, we will."

"Good to hear." He looked at his bags. Everything was nearly packed. "Well, I'm pretty much ready to come back. Just need to grab a few more things and find a flight."

"Yes, about that. I spoke with Sir Integra. She said for you to take your time."

Matthew paused. "What?"

"Mr. Jemeth, you've served the Hellsing organization with unwavering dedication for three years. Go see your family. You've earned it."

He was suddenly curious why Sir Integra would allow that… More accurately, he wanted to ask "Where is she and who replaced her?" 'Best to not look a gift horse in the mouth, Matthew,' he thought. Walter had probably mentioned the idea and the merits of it. "Uhh…," he uttered, "thanks."

"You are welcome, Mr. Jemeth. Now, I have duties to attend to. We will contact you when we need you. How can we reach you?"

Matthew thought a moment. "Have Seras contact me. I'll call in from wherever I am."

"Understood. Have a pleasant visit, Mr. Jemeth."

"Thanks, Walter. Take care." He waited for the click of disconnection, then hung up the phone.

It seemed someone was looking out for him once again. He took a quick look at the ceiling and touched a couple fingers to his temple in salute. It was time to do what he'd wanted to do for a long time; call home.

On a whim, he'd brought his old cell phone with him. His father had bought it for him soon after he left for college. For some odd reason, he wanted to use it. Crossing the room to his bag, he reached into the side pouch and grabbed the phone. 'I haven't charged you, but you seemed like you held a charge a long time even when you were on…' He held down the power button, and a smiled as its screen lit up a few moments later. The phone's battery had managed to hold a quarter charge. 'Could be better, but then again…' He reached further into the bag and pulled out its charger. 'When I pay attention a whim, I go all the way.' After plugging the phone into the charger into the wall he looked at it again. It had perfect reception. 'They made the base cell phone friendly. How advantageous.'

Now, he had to hope his father hadn't moved. About a year before, his ties with his family had weakened. It became painful in a way, feeling that he would never see them again. It was easier to just ignore it all. He was sending, essentially, the same e-mail anyway. "Still alive. Can't say more. How're you?" This time he got to talk, and hopefully his luck would hold. He dialed in his old home phone number and hit the green button. It rang; good sign. It kept ringing; bad sign. Right before the answering machine would've gotten it, someone answered the call. "Hello?"

Matthew smiled. His luck had held. "Hi, Dad."

"Matt?" There was a pause. "Matt! It's great to hear from you!"

"Good to hear you too, Dad. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much." Yeah, his dad was surprised at the call, but he was managing well. "Just got home from work and getting ready to work on a car. What's the occasion? Haven't heard from you in… how long has it been?"

"A long while, Dad, and I'm sorry for that. It's a rather long story… But I had a question."

"Shoot," Dad replied.

"It my old room still free?"

"Of course," he replied. It sounded like he knew what question came next.

"Then is it ok if I stop by for a few days?"

"Of course you are. Like you need to ask."

Matthew blew out his nervous tension and fell back into a chair. Even as a vampire, he was still his father's son. "Well, you know me, courteous to a fault. I just finished a mission in the States…"

"Really? What brought you so close?"

"I'll explain what I can later. But I've got from free time now. I'd like to come home. Probably land in Crystal River if I can. Made sense to talk to you first."

"You want me to pick you up?"

"Along with Mom and Kit if they can make it. I'll work out a way to get there tomorrow, give you an ETA once I know it." He paused, his smile fading. "I really need to see you guys."

Again getting straight to the point, Dad said, "What about Akira?"

Matthew paused again. "Not yet. I want to talk to you all first."

"It'll be all right, Matt. And it'll be good to see you again. I'll call your mother and Kathryn, let them know."

Matthew gave a relived smile. Dad always seemed to know when to just tell him everything would be ok. "Thanks, Dad. See you soon. Love you."

"Love you too, buddy. Bye."

He hit the red button, ending call, and felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He'd thought he'd never see his family again… and couldn't be happier to be wrong. Packing could wait a while. He needed to get a plane…

The next afternoon, he couldn't help but smile as the chartered Learjet dropped low enough over Citrus County Florida for him to recognize the area. His enhanced vision allowed him to pick out every detail.

The DPSD had been more than happy to help Matthew get home, quickly getting a hold of the Learjet that had brought him to the States and tossing his gear aboard. The flight had gone mostly according to plan. They'd picked up some tail winds and had gotten over the county a fair amount early. He would've called his folks, but as the jet passed over the area he actually spotted his old house, and saw the family minivan pulling out of the driveway.

His excitement at returning home gave him all he needed to ignore the headache. He just kept looking out the window, watching as buildings and roads passed underneath. Soon, the jet approached Crystal River and its small airport. Crystal River was one of two large towns in the county. Near one of the bays of the Gulf of Mexico, it had a number of strip malls and small medical centers, along with what Matthew and his sister had called the smallest mall in Florida. He'd seen a Learjet at the airport before, but part of him was uncertain whether or not it could stop before plowing into highway 19, a moderately busy four-lane road.

There was nothing to worry about. The pilot got the plane down, stopped, and off to the side with no problems. When the jet came to the end of its taxi, Matthew put on his sunglasses.

He climbed out of the Learjet, taking a moment to gaze at the town and think, 'I'm home.' Then, he helped a couple staff members grab his gear from the jet and put it on a cart. In his pockets were the permits for his more questionable belongings in case anyone got nosy. He rolled the cart off to the side, allowing the Learjet to depart whenever it was ready. Matthew was happy for the extra time before his folks arrived. He had something he needed to do. Grabbing a cooler from the cart, he started for the restroom. Thankfully, they were empty. He locked the door.

He walked to the mirror and looked at himself, taking off his sunglasses. For a moment, he allowed himself to think over a part of the vampire myth: not having a reflection. He chuckled. Of course he had a reflection. Light would bounce off of him just as easily as anything else. Anything else would violate simple logic. Overall, his face was the same as it had been the last time he was in the county, albeit a little slimmer. The red eyes tended to draw attention pretty well. But that wasn't his reason for looking. He pulled out his wallet, and from it pulled a piece of colored card paper. It was his natural skin tone. He held it to his cheek. "Damn," he muttered. He was too pale.

He reached into the cooler, pulling out a Hellsing blood bag. Matthew downed it, his desire to look presentable overriding his normal revulsion of blood. He went back to the mirror. Closer, but not quite yet. He grabbed another bag, downed it, and checked again. Ah, better. His skin was the right tone. After downing one more bag, he checked something else. He pressed a pair of fingers to his neck and waited a moment. "Damn," he muttered again. His heart had stopped.

Yeah, he didn't need his heart beating as he was, in fact, dead. He really didn't care. For some reason, having a pulse felt better. More natural. Maybe one day that would change, but it was not that particular day. He balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against his chest hard, giving himself a precordial thump to encourage his heart to beat again. It had worked in the past, so maybe again? He checked his neck again, then thumped his chest twice more. Another check, and all was well. He closed the cooler and rinsed out his mouth. Bad form to show up in front of his folks with a red mouth.

Making sure everything was clean, he walked back outside, slipped on the sunglasses, and got to the parking lot, making room on the cart to sit and wait. Before too long, the medium blue 1997 Dodge Caravan pulled into the parking lot and moved to a nearby spot. Three people exited. His father, in his late 50's, had a slightly larger build than Matthew with graying dark brown hair and mustache. His mother, shorter than Matthew, had long colored her hair red. She was in her early 50's. Kathryn, Kit for short, his older sister. They looked a lot alike, but she'd always looked younger than Matthew. Matthew's unfair advantage of being dead meant she'd 'caught up' with him.

Matthew stood, slowly walking towards them. He'd worn jean shorts and a green t-shirt, hoping to look normal. It was the closest he'd come in years. The four met half way in a group hug.

Matthew was the first to start talking, asking his family what they'd been doing over the years as they loaded up the van and started for home. Mom was back in nursing doing what she loved to do. Dad still worked at the local power plant. Kit was through grad school and was successfully making a career… as if there had been any doubt she would've made it. They avoided asking him anything, probably figuring he'd be more comfortable at home. They were right.

Home was located in a development called Pine Ridge. They'd lived there for eighteen years. Even after being away for so long, Matthew still knew his way around. That was a good thing: it was easy to get lost on the windy roads of Pine Ridge, which was larger than the city limits of Crystal River. Citrus County had managed to stay pretty rural, but Tampa's steady expansion slowly brought more people that far north.

Dad pulled the van into the driveway, Matthew noting that his father's car rebuilding hobby had not faded. He recognized three cars, those actively driven by his family. Two others he didn't recognize. "Let me guess," Matthew said, "there's a third one in the garage, right?"

"Of course," Dad replied with a smile. He brought the van to a stop. The four exited and started for the door, Matthew grabbing his 'main' bag, the one holding his clothes and toiletries. Everything else could stay. Matthew looked over the house before entering. It was a large house: four bedrooms, three bathrooms. It had been designed for five people, and had followed a "great room" ideology; a central living room with areas designated as 'dining room' and 'computer room' with a kitchen separated by a 'island' holding the sink, dishwasher, and stove / oven, all, excluding the kitchen, covered by a very high ceiling. Mom had always commented the front entryway looked too much like a mansion, and that was after telling the architects three times to tone it down. They entered through the side door, passing through the garage and into the house.

Passing the laundry room and walking down the short hall, Matthew saw his old house once again. He set the bag down in the 'dining room' and walked further in. He noticed something: a lack of dog hair. He looked at Dad. "Donnie?"

Dad shook his head. "She died a couple years ago."

Matthew nodded. "She did get a good run…" Seventeen years. Good long life for a Labrador. He sighed. "I've been away too long…"

Kit grabbed a couple sodas from the 'fridge, tossing one to Matthew. "Thanks. I guess you'd all like to know the full story."

"If you're comfortable talking about it," Mom replied.

Matthew nodded. "Well, might wanna sit down. This'll take a while." They walked to the 'living room', his family sitting on the couch. Matthew popped the soda, took a sip, set the can on the short coffee table, and sat on the table's corner. "All started three years ago…"

Dad interrupted. "Mind taking off the sunglasses?"

Matthew froze a moment. "You sure?" Dad nodded. "Ok…" Slowly, he reached up and took off the sunglasses, then looked at his family with his red eyes. They didn't look shocked.

"I just want to see your face when you speak, that's all."

Matthew smiled a bit. "I understand, Dad. So, as I was saying…"

He gave them the full story: being turned, his early days, Shalrik and beyond, pausing when needed to clarify. He told them a little about the Hellsing Organization, but only what was needed about the DPSD. Better they not know U.S. top-secret stuff. "Since that's all over with," he concluded, having just finished talking about the Global Fangs, "I've got some time off. So, here I am."

They were silent a moment, taking in all he'd said. Kit shifted to the table and gave him a hug. "Got any plans?" Dad asked.

"Some. I was going to visit Akira tomorrow. After that…" He shrugged. "Just relax around here, I suppose. Help out. I haven't gotten any true downtime in a while. How about you all?"

Matt wasn't sure how they'd pulled it off, but Mom and Kit had time to be there. They'd found others who could care for their patients. It wasn't every day a technically dead relative returned home. Dad wanted to continue his work on cars, just to keep them moving through the garage. While the exact plan on the week was still to be determined, that night they could be a family again. They relaxed, talked, laughed. When they finally went to bed, Matthew felt better than he had for years.

He walked outside for a time, the dark skies of Citrus County allowing him to see all the stars he was cheated from being in London. His mind drifted a while. Was his being happy at being home somehow cheating the mourning he should be doing for his lost friend? Being his first friend in years, it seemed John deserved more than a day of remembrance. 'Matthew, he'd be happy for you. If he can't see his family anymore, at least you get to see yours. Right?' He nodded. Yeah, from Matthew's read of John that was probably the truth. And what better to do than get back into the fight with a clear head and give the Global Fangs an extra bullet for John.

Matthew was up first the next day, slipping into the bathroom to ensure he was still the right color. Soon enough, the others awoke and Dad treated them to an omelet breakfast, like he did when they'd been under the same roof. They enjoyed being around each other again, even if they had little else to talk about for the moment. While Dad worked on cars and Kit read a book, Matt pulled his Mom outside to speak with her. He'd made a decision; one that would not be fun to carry out. A while after, Matthew stepped out into the garage. "I'm going to head over to Akira's place."

"Are you going to call first?"

"No," he said. "I'd rather break the news in person. She'll love it."

"Ok," Dad replied, erring to Matthew's judgment. "Need a car?"

"Yeah, I will. Mind if I use the van?"

Dad smiled. "You won't need the van, son." Dad closed the hood of the car he was working on. Matthew had not paid it any mind, figuring it was a fantasmigorical deal he simply couldn't pass up on. It was a gray two-door hatchback. A late 80s Toyota Corolla FX. "It's yours, Matt."

Matthew turned to Dad, smiled, and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad. But why on Earth would you get me a car? I mean, until yesterday I had no idea I'd over come home."

Dad shrugged. "There was always a chance. Besides, I figured we might be able to get it out to you in London. Difficult, but not impossible. And if all else failed, I could just sell it. Got the car for maybe $100." Dad started up the FX. It purred as he backed it out of the garage. He'd obviously seen this coming, as the other cars were already out of the way. He got out as Matthew walked over. "It's all ready to go."

"Thanks again. I'll be back in a while."

Matthew slipped into the FX's driver's seat, familiarizing himself with the car. Giving his father a wave, he backed down the driveway and started down the road, very glad he'd kept up his practice driving in England. Adjusting back to left-hand drive was pretty easy.

Akira lived about twenty minutes away in a development called Citrus Hills. Though the county was growing, it was still an easy drive. Sunglasses on, he sped down the highways and back roads to her house, set back a ways towards the center of the development. Leaving the FX on the far side of the road, Matthew started for the Nasori house. Before he was halfway across the street, the front door flew open. Akira, her brown eyes wide, mouth in a smile, and long black hair trailing behind, ran to him at full speed. "Matthew!" she yelled.

Matthew stopped, waiting for her to come to him. She jumped into his arms, hugging him. He held back from kissing her, instead swinging her around and setting her back on the ground. He remembered her desire for him to turn her three years before, and he wanted to make sure the idea was, in fact, dropped. Apparently, she knew this. She backed up and looked at him. "Matthew, don't worry. I know that was a stupid thing to ask for. The interest has completely dropped from my mind."

Relaxing, Matthew smiled, grabbed Akira in a hug, and kissed her, again happy to be home.

His visit with Akira and her family went well. While the Nasoris were a little uneasy with him at first, seeing that he was the same Matthew Jemeth as before got them to relax. Akira was on break from school and helping around the house, so he'd had excellent timing in arriving. How he'd known she would be there, he didn't know.

They watched a movie, played games, and Matthew helped out in the yard. Only one thing made the trip sour, his earlier decision. Now was the time to carry it out.

Matthew pulled Akira into her room. "There's something we've gotta talk about."

Akira nodded. "Ok." She took a seat on her bed. "What's up?"

He looked at her and sighed. "This is one of those 'better to be blunt and explain after' things. I think we need to end our relationship. I need to let you get on with your life."

She looked a little shocked at his words, but at the same time as if she'd been expecting them. "Why?"

"Aky, I'm a vampire. I'm dead. You're still alive, and it would be wrong… no, cruel of me to stay with you any longer. I've held you back long enough." He sat on the floor. "Don't get me wrong, I love you. I'm doing this because I love you." He looked at her again. "I know that probably didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I think I got the point across well enough. Can you forgive me?"

Akira was silent for a while, several tears running down her face. She finally spoke. Her voice was uneven, but she spoke. "Yes, Matthew, I can. I understand why you want to." She moved to him, giving him a hug. "I don't like the idea, but I saw it coming. I'll respect your wishes." She gave a wry smile, drying her face. "Though if I end up turned it's back on, ok?"

"Deal." He smiled back. While that was the last thing he wanted, the idea of their relationship hinging on her becoming a vampire was mildly comedic.

The next week went about the same. Matthew helped around the house, working on the yard or with dad on his latest project car. His dad certainly appreciated his being there. He was putting the engine and transmission back in, and Matthew was more than strong enough to hold things in place at angles the hoist couldn't manage. The family made a trip out to a nearby gun range, Matthew showing them a couple of his weapons and wowing his father with his new found accuracy. He also spent more time with Akira, ensuring that their relationship survived the transition back to being a friendship. He hated having to do it, but in the end it would be better for Akira to find someone else. Though he wanted to be there to see it. He had to make sure the 'new guy' was good enough for her.

Unfortunately, his time with them was far too short. Seras's call came, giving him a phone number. Matthew called in, Walter waiting. After asking how things were at home, he launched into the point of the call. "We've located the Global Fangs, and are arranging transport to bring you back. There is a flight leaving tomorrow morning from the Orlando International Airport at 8:00 AM. You will meet a contact at 6:00AM at the Delta check-in area. He will get you and your gear on the airliner. Seras will meet you at the terminal here. You gear will be picked up by others and returned to headquarters."

"Understood, Walter. I'll be there."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Jemeth."

Matthew updated his family. They said they would accompany him to the airport. But they had time for one last night as a family. So they spoke more, watched another movie, and cooked up a fabulous dinner.

They all stood at the airport the next morning, waiting as the Hellsing contact worked out getting Matthew's gear unloaded and checked in. Matthew turned to his family. "It was great to see you all. Reminded me why I do this."

"It was good to see you too, Matt," Kit replied.

"Come back as often as you can, ok?" Mom added.

"I will. In the meantime… keep writing me. I'll be keeping my cell-phone charged and turned on. If I don't e-mail you back, prod me. Don't let me get out of touch again, ok?" He grabbed them all in a hug.

"We won't, son," Dad said.