Title: Fall From Grace
Rating: PG-13 for blood and violence.
Author: Master Hellsing
Disclaimer: I couldn't come up with a concept like Hellsing in a million years. And Lord knows I could not have created Enrico Maxwell XDD Everything about Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano.
Spoilers: Entirely. Spoilers for volume 8 of the manga.
Summary: Just a one-shot at what would have happened if Integra, Alucard and Seras were with Anderson when he brought Maxwell down.
Credits: ATU-BOTI for most of the text, and the scans themselves. You guys rock!
Author's Notes: None really I have no cluewhere this idea came from, but I've seen weirder, so I took a shot at it. It's probably not the most accurate, but I like it enough n.n
I got the idea for this after hearing "Canta Per Me" from the Noir soundtrack. It reminded me very much of Enrico Maxwell (that may have something to do with the fact that the song is in Italian), and of his fate in the 8th volume of the manga. So I took that inspiration and mixed it with something I'd been toying with for a while -- the blasphemy that is IxM XDD
I actually really like this pairing. It's so wrong and awful XDD That's what makes it so rare and interesting.
But seriously, I'm actually pretty proud of the way this one came out and quite fond of the concept. I like how AxI worked into it also. I had the lyrics to Canta Per Me at the bottom, but since has implimented the "no lyrics" rule, I had to remove them. If you know the song, just imagine them there.
And yes, I know this is (a little more than) a tad OOC, but it would be boring to stick to a 2-dimensional characterization, would it not?
Please enjoy!
---
"This is specially reinforced armored textile glass! There's no way you can break in, you stupid zombies!"
The sound of the bayonet cracking the glass was almost deafening.
Integra stood a few feet away, Alucard and Seras by her side. She had followed Anderson to see why he left in such a hurry. Apparently this was it.
There he was -- Enrico Maxwell. No, Archbishop Enrico Maxwell. Driven mad with power and status.
"ANDERSON!", he called, as if it was an order to his former subordinate.
The father's features were somber -- almost regretful. Integra knew that Anderson's next words would be uttered with a heavy heart, so she held off their feud until his personal mission was complete. Afterall, this needed to happen. For once they agreed on something.
"As a member of the 13th division of Papal Knights, it is my duty to rise above this heresy. I can tolerate this perversion of God's word no longer...I am destroying your dream, Enrico," he announced, his bayonets visible.
Maxwell's eyes grew wide as the realization hit him. He was about to die. And suddenly his own words resonated, within a split second, through his mind.
"'For Dogma we would even kill our founder.' It is that fanaticism that is the foundation of Iscariot, which bears the name of Judas himself. We are Earthly agents of the Vatican's divine punishment. It is what Section 13 was created to do."
"Farewell...my brother."
Within moments, the Archbishop's body was riddled with bayonets. From his place beside Integra, the newly-reformed Count could barely contain a smile.
Maxwell's body soon fell back, the bayonets driving themselves deeper through him. His breath was sparing from the shock of such a betrayal, and the sudden realization of his own mortality. With each moment he felt a little more of his life slip from him, and as his gaze set itself on the sky above him, he succumbed to the anger that was filling him.
"How the hell...did I...end up like this! Why...here...! Why do I have to die all by myself in this shitty place!", he demanded to no one. Anger raged within him. Anger, panic and searing betrayal, "NO! I DON'T WANT TO!"
Within mere seconds, his anger regressed into sadness as a hand reached for the night sky. "You brought me into this world alone...does this also mean I should die...alone?", he asked, nearly whispering the latter word.
His vision abstructed with tears and his own blood, he suddenly remembered something. No -- someone .
"Integra..," he called, "Please..Integra...where are you? I need to see Integra!"
Hellsing's director hesitated before walking as far as she could before Anderson came between herself and the Archbishop. Wordlessly, she searched his eyes for approval -- or, more likely, his opinion on whether or not this would be a good idea. He gave his blessing in the form of a nod and stepped aside.
Within moments she was standing in his field of vision above him. A nearly excited, purely genuine smile crossed his bloody lips as he saw her. Looking down on him literally as she always did figuratively, yet it didn't matter. She was there. He wasn't alone.
"Integra...I have a request."
"You want to call me a sow and get away with it?", she asked, a condescending smile crossing her own lips.
He laughed before grimacing at the pain that it brought him. "No, no...it's not that. I just..I want to leave this world content. My only request is of you...Sir Integra...Wingates...Hellsing."
"What do you want from me?", she asked, obviously having very little patience for these events. She had nazis to deflect, afterall.
"Just...one...kiss."
Integra's eyes shot open. She couldn't believe the nerve! Even dying he was completely inappropriate. "How dare you!"
"No, no, no! You--...You misunderstand! I...it's...I've never...," he started before giving her an unamused expression. "Don't...make me say it.," he said, his breath heavy and his energy draining.
His eyes, though obscured, were sincere. She could see at least that. This wasn't some cheap trick (she'd gone over every possibility in her mind to make sure of it). Everything aside, she was still human, and she still had compassion...even for her enemies. Especially ones she actually found fun in their prime. As amused as Alucard had become with Anderson, Integra had become amused with Maxwell. Admittedly, she was going to miss their spats, but this was the way things had to be. In her heart, she knew it was a fitting goodbye.
Quickly, she cast a glance to Alucard for approval. He looked uncomfortable. His lips were turned into a frown against the thick, black beard and his eyes were shaded by his hair. He hated the very idea of anyone laying a hand on his Master, much less kissing her. In response to her silent question, he turned his head away. He would allow it, but that didn't mean he had to watch. He knew the circumstances were special, but it made him sick nonetheless.
"Please, Integra...," Maxwell pleaded weakly. Her eyes returned to his after lingering on the Count for a moment, nearly apologetically. "My time here is nearly at an end...what will your descision be?"
Integra prepared herself, removed her glasses and leaned down, careful of the bayonets, and cupped a hand around Maxwell's cheek. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her like that. Above him, illuminated by the moonlight, nothing abstructing her eyes...she looked less like an opponent and instead, in that moment, possessed all the beauty and grace of Heaven's own angels. Leaning in a little more, she placed her lips directly over his. "Alright. But only one. And if you tell God about this, I'll find you and maime you.," she whispered in a half-joking tone. The former director of Iscariot laughed weakly as his bloodied hand reached up to slide through her hair. "Deal."
As she leaned over him like that, her hair created a curtian around them. It was a comfortable privacy that he was thankful for.
Softly, her lips pressed against his. To her surprise, it wasn't as awful as she thought it would be. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she'd say she liked it. For a moment, she lifted any boundaries from her heart and allowed herself to enjoy this -- she may as well make his last moments memorable.
His closed eyes overflowed with tears and blood. For the first and last time in his life, he felt complete. He didn't feel alone. It was warm, beautiful and surreal. Almost everything he'd imagined of Heaven itself. Her touch, the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hand curling in his hair even though it was matted with blood in some spots...it was beautiful.
Seras, beside her Master, could barely contain her own tears as she remembered Pip. She knew this was nothing like their kiss, but she could still feel his lips against hers. The memory was almost too much to bare.
Integra's lips moved gently against those of the fallen Archbishop. Carefully as though if the rythm strayed a centimeter he would break. Slowly as though it would cleanse his pain. Beneath her hair, her hand moved to stroke through his silvery tresses nearly like a lover.
She could tell he was struggling -- that his time had come. Reaching down, she took hold of the blade protruding from his heart and pulled it out further to put him out of his misery. He coughed blood against her lips as she parted from him.
"In..te..gra..," he managed to speak.
"Goodbye, Maxwell.," she whispered, her eyes merciful and forgiving in that moment. It was almost as though she'd forgotten about his betrayal of her and their current war (even though, of course, she hadn't). This was more important than that -- this was humanity itself. Placing a bloodstained kiss on his forehead, she whispered softly so that no one could hear her but him.
"I'll miss you."
And as his last teardrop fell, so did his life. All his mortality had been drained by the very principle of Iscariot. But, in his last moments, he experienced something that had been foreign to him all his life -- human kindness.
Pulling away from him slowly, Integra sighed. "You were such a fool, Maxwell...," she spoke, wiping his blood from her mouth and replacing her glasses.
It was at that moment that Anderson finally stepped beside her, looking over their fallen leader. "Aye. A hopeless, reckless fool. As a man, he deserved better. But as a leader..."
"I know..," Integra empathized. Somewhere she always knew that Maxwell wasn't a bad person, his fanaticism simply overshadowed that. Her heart still burned with the flames of war, the hatred for those that opposed her -- but this wasn't a time to surrender to that. This was a time to show last respects to a fallen leader, no matter how much she disliked his beliefs and methods.
A moment of silence fell over the small gathering of figures as a cold wind brushed past from the East.
Finally, she directed her gaze to Anderson. "Do what needs to be done.," she stated simply -- quietly. Her heart was heavy for him. She knew how awfully he must be suffering. "To put an end to the life of one that you practically raised...," she thought to herself. The situation was horrible. As much as she hated Iscariot, she did feel sympathy for Anderson to have to do such a thing. It would be like her having to kill Seras or Alucard.
The thought alone made her sick.
Anderson simply nodded in response to her. "Aye.."
As she started to walk away and join the members of her own organization, he called after her. "Hellsing."
She stopped but didn't turn around.
"This doesn't mean that I'm going to stop my efforts to bring you down. You're all heretics as far as I'm concerned."
Integra just smirked to herself. "I never expected you to. Our war is far from over, Father Anderson.," she spoke before begining to walk away again.
A short pause as he began to turn around to Maxwell. "Integra?"
Stopping, this time she turned around to catch eye contact.
"...Thank you.," he spoke simply.
The director of Hellsing simply smiled. "Of course. You have our grattitude as well for showing such restraint. I know it was difficult.". The truth was, he could have taken the opportunity to impale her on the same bayonets as she was kissing Maxwell. He could have started to fight with Alucard or Seras, but he didn't. That was definitely commendable.
A silent moment passed and they all began on their way again. Anderson left to tend to his fallen brother, and Integra, Seras and Alucard to find the other set of intruders to their country.
---
Halfway down the corpse-laiden road, Alucard finally spoke. "Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?", he asked gruffly, regarding Anderson. "He was completely off-guard, Master. This could have been over."
"He's suffered enough for one day, Alucard. Leave him be.," she responded.
Alucard growled under his breath. "Humans are impossible.," he muttered. Sometimes Integra could be as much, if not more of a Monster than he was, and others she showed as much compassion as Seras. In a way he envied it, but in another way it just aggravated him.
Seras understood more than anyone there. Her heart was absolutely breaking at the entire situation. "You did the right thing, Sir Integra.," she assured quietly. "It would have been dishonorable to attack an incapacitated opponent."
Integra simply gave a smile to her Police Girl. That was exactly what she needed to hear. "Thank you, Seras."
Seras blushed and nodded.
Silence fell among them for a long time before Integra finally spoke.
"Alucard..," she ventured. She had to pose the question that had been haunting her since the thought first hit her.
"Yes, Master?"
"Could you ever--," she began before he cut her off.
"No.," he answered quickly and firmly. His tone was harsh, but the passion behind it more than made up for it. If his heart did beat, she could hear it behind those words. It was the first and only time to date that she'd felt that much passion from him. It made her own heart skip and she smiled softly to herself.
The rest of their trip was spent in silence and reflection. If it weren't for Maxwell, Integra would have never heard the sound of Alucard's heart rush behind his words as if he couldn't answer fast enough. If it weren't for their kiss, she would have never seen the Count's eyes so full of jealousy -- answering any question that she'd previously had regarding his feelings for her. But most of all, if it weren't for the purity of his eyes, she would have lost herself completely in the monster that had become the war. Because of him, she was able to remember her own humanity.
In his last moments, the fallen Archbishop had given her not only hope for the future where Alucard was concerned, but hope for her own mortality -- for her own heart.
"Thank you, Enrico...for everything...," she thought to herself. In retrospect, she had even enjoyed their fights. She even enjoyed his presence itself to some extent, and it saddened her that she would never feel it again.
It was in that moment that another wind passed them. Cool to the touch, but warm with the feeling of familiarity.
Integra couldn't fight the smile that threatened her lips.
