I don't own Hellsing. Though, technically, I own the character of Leone. Based off and inspired by the fic grave by Ciarda Rois.
"Heads down!" Leone screamed as he shoved his face into the grass. The bullets whistled over head.
Last job. Leone thought. You're going to be a father after this. You can't afford to be running around getting shot at when you've got a son. Boy needs a father.
He had been ready to get out already. He had been ready to go tell his father to shove it where the sun didn't shine and apply for the Police Academy, or something similar.
Then he had gotten the news. The terrible, wonderful, dreadful beautiful news.
He shot up and squeezed off a round at the soldiers hiding in the trees. He was rewarded with a few grunts and screams before he ducked for cover again.
They needed the money. They needed the money soon. He'd be damned before his son was born without the money to pay for it. He didn't want Pip coming into the world owing anything to anyone.
And then there was Francine…
He said he would stop. He promised her he would stop. Promised her the day he proposed, the day before they got married, and on their wedding night.
And he lied to her. And the day he left with the Britannica Cowboys, he kissed her and promised her that he would come back. Gave her his hat so he had to come back alive.
And he'd be damned if he was going to lie to her a second time.
He leapt up again to feel something hit him in the chest. He flew backward, rolling a few feet before he came to a rest in the field.
"Damnit, damnit, damnit, damnit !"
He had lied again. He was always lying.
He'd have to see about that.
At least I broke the chain. He thought fuzzily as he the world faded to black. At least I died for something more important than money.
Sorry, Pip. Sorry,
Francine.
