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I do not own Hellsing.
Amelia gasped and scooted backwards when the sputtering flames suddenly roared into life in the hearth. It did not take her long to notice her visitor in the hellish light.
Alucard's approach was as silent as his entry. Spoken words were not necessary, really, for his rigid posture and swift pace spoke for him.
It felt like the oxygen was sucked from her lungs in an instant. I can't do this! Amelia was on her feet and running towards the open window in the adjacent wall faster than she thought was possible in a nightgown.
"Harker." The only word the vampire uttered was low, carrying a warning. The window slammed shut in front of Amelia, the force rattling the glass in its aging frame.
He won't let me leave. Her thoughts went to Jonathan Harker, held captive for weeks in the Count's lair. I should have jumped when I had the chance! I can't reason with him! I can't! Before her eyes the window began to blur, its frame becoming indistinct until it was impossible to distinguish where the wall ended and the window began; then it was gone, replaced with wall as if it had never existed. Mute with horror, Amelia turned and saw that the room's single door had also disappeared.
Alucard was closing in.
Run! Run somewhere! Wake up! Heart racing, she held her head in her hands, shut her eyes, and dropped to her knees, slamming her forehead against the floor. She imagined sinking through the stone; tearing herself out of invisible chains tethering her to the room; falling; being spirited away by a wave of darkness; reaching for her sleeping body in the white room.
When some seconds passed without the vampire speaking or pulling her up from the ground, Amelia cracked open her eyes.
Darkness.
She fully opened her eyes and blinked a few times, but the darkness remained. A pillow cushioned her head, and she could feel a blanket pushed down to her knees. She was awake in her room.
Kicking off the blanket, she sat up and rubbed her eyes and cheeks. No tears. But in her chest, her heart raced, the rhythm thudding loud enough to reach her ears. I got away…
Her shoulders slumped as the seconds ticked by. Leaning forward, her unbruised forehead fell into the palm of her hand. What are you doing? That wasn't how it was supposed to go!
How remarkable, that she could muster the courage to confront what frightened her, and then lose her nerve the instant she came face-to-face with it.
Or, perhaps, it wasn't surprising at all.
I ran away. Amelia grabbed her pillow and hugged it tightly, burying her face in it. Coward.
"Harker." Alucard growled as he watched the girl dash towards the window. He had mentioned at their previous meeting that she couldn't leave through so simple a means. It crossed his mind that she might be forgetful—something that would hinder her in the long run and definitely grate on his nerves. He had not been around her long enough to know what behavior was normal or unusual from her, or what she might be thinking, but he could not deny that the atmosphere had changed.
This time, Amelia Harker was different. She did not attempt to make conversation or verbally respond when he called. She had yet to even look him properly in the eye. The way she desperately searched for the door, then, still refusing to face him, looked elsewhere for an escape route…
Alucard's step faltered. He recognized her expression, had seen such behavior thousands—maybe millions—of times before. It didn't suit her. It didn't belong on her.
The girl made herself small, huddling on the floor and shielding her head with her arms as though she expected him to be violent.
He intended to rebuke her. He almost shouted at her. In the seconds it took Alucard to curb his temper, her form faded into black smoke and dissipated, leaving him alone in the room.
Calling the spectacle a surprise was an understatement; it was not the same disappearing act that he had witnessed in the past. This was intentional, even premeditated. She left on her own. Amelia Harker waited for him to appear before making her escape.
Alucard's fists clenched at his sides as he stared at the spot where the girl had vanished, his disbelief turning into something else. The fire, raging violently in the hearth, abruptly died.
Escape. It was the most fitting word that came to mind, and when it settled at the end of his thoughts, it lingered like a scar.
After twenty minutes of lying awake, Amelia's gut convinced her that she needed to use the toilet. Shuffling across the dark room, she found the door and opened it, snapping the curtain aside. Her gaze lowered under the bright light, coming to rest on her person. She still didn't have a clean t-shirt to wear over her tank top. More irritated than embarrassed, she crossed her arms and headed for the bathroom.
At least I have something to wear. The bathroom door slammed behind her. As if providing me with clothes makes everything better. Stomping into a stall, she pulled down her pants and sat on the toilet with a heavy sigh. Since waking, her mind had been at war with itself, half of it showering her with comfort and self-pity while the other side rained down negativity and reasons for self-loathing.
Jonathan Harker wouldn't have stood for this. He would have tried to escape by now, I'm sure. Even though he was frightened… And he fought Alucard. He knew what Alucard was and he still fought him. Forget fighting, I can't even talk to him! She pulled off a chain of toilet paper and wiped, then sat herself on the toilet again, her mind quieting for a moment.
Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she tensed her leg muscles and lifted herself off the seat, looking into the toilet bowl for several seconds before once more sitting down.
Blood in the water.
Wait, what's the date? What's today? How long have I been here? When did it start last month? Amelia flushed the toilet and pullet her pants up, walking swiftly out of the stall. She remembered retrieving bathroom supplies from the set of cabinets by the door, and prayed that she would find what she was looking for in one of them.
It did not take her long to search the cabinets.
"What is wrong with you?" she hissed, double checking that she hadn't missed a box shoved into a dark corner. Why don't they have…? What are they thinking?! I'm a woman! What kind of doctor…? She shoved a hand towel back into the cabinet and went to the bathroom door. Opening it half way, she stuck her head out, looking for the doctor.
"Doctor?" As angry as she felt she sounded rather feeble. "Doctor?" She tried again, a little louder than a whisper.
There was movement between the bookshelves, and then out from behind the shelf on the farthest end popped a head. It was not the doctor.
Amelia started to swing the door shut, but found the strength to stop herself before she closed it completely. "Do you know where the doctor is?"
"Doc's busy. What do you need?"
Feline ears twitched forward as Amelia muttered under her breath. Must be busy if they left you on guard duty. Pursing her lips, she waved the cat-boy closer.
Schrödinger narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but came out from behind the bookshelves, hands on hips.
When he was close enough to hear her without her raising her voice, she answered him. "Does the doctor have sanitary napkins stored somewhere?"
Schrödinger did not speak, but began to make a face.
Amelia felt a blush rising on her cheeks. "There are none in the cabinets! Can't you find—?"
"Eeeaaghhh," the young male wrinkled his nose and made a shooing motion at her with his hands. "That's so gross!"
"Schrödinger!" She pleaded.
"No-no-no-no, wait, wait!" He was gone in the blink of an eye.
Amelia bit her lip and shuffled uncomfortably, for the first time eager for the cat-boy to return.
"Doooooooc!" The long whine and clop-clop-clop-clop of shoes on tile preceded Schrödinger's appearance from behind the door. All heads in the room turned in the youth's direction as he came in at a less-than-enthusiastic jog, dragging his feet.
"You don't have to run anywhere," Doc grumbled, unappreciative of the teenager's dramatic entrance. Turning away from his two patients, he crossed his arms and fixed Schrödinger with a disapproving glare. "I thought I told you to keep an eye on Miss Harker."
"I was—am. Eh…" Schrödinger's pace slowed as he approached the doctor, his gaze shifting towards the two men in the partially reclined hospital beds.
"Shit, Doc. You guys into bestiality or somethin'?" The man with the darker skin and hair spoke up, eying the teenager's feline characteristics. The left side of Schrödinger's face twitched.
"No." Doc answered in a tone that made it clear there would be no discussion on the topic.
"Why are you here, Schrödinger?" The curiosity and thinly veiled disgust faded from the cat-boy's expression, and in a moment, he returned his attention to the doctor. Taking a couple steps closer, he tugged on his lab coat, inviting the man to bend down and listen as he whispered in his ear.
"What?" Doc pulled his head away for a moment, before Schrödinger muttered in his ear again. "Are you sure?"
"… fuckin' gross…" The rest of the comment was made unintelligible by the man's snickering.
"Jan." An annoyed sigh came from the man in the second bed, his neatly combed long blonde hair and glasses giving him a more refined look than his companion.
Jan tilted his head back against the bed to stare at the ceiling, emitting a groan. "I'm fucking bored, bro."
"We just arrived this morning."
"Still bored."
Doc beckoned to the Captain, who had been watching his exchange with the cat-boy from the corner of the room.
He addressed Schrödinger. "I don't like leaving her unsupervised. Look in the supply closet—the one outside the lab. There might be some in there. I'll check on her when I'm finished here."
"You gonna let us meet this girl?" Jan perked up.
Ignoring him, Doc sent Schrödinger away and put some distance between himself and the beds, turning his back to their occupants and indicating the Captain should do the same.
After explaining the situation, he sighed and crossed his arms. "I know it may be a little forward of me to ask…" There was a subtle change in the Captain's stance, but he pressed on. "Throughout the entirety of her stay, She never went through a menstrual cycle. Not once. If Miss Harker is receptive, and quite possibly able to procreate despite any physiological changes brought about by the injection, how soon can I begin testing reproductive…?"
The Captain was signing a response before he finished his question.
"I-I know, the goal, but the results of…" The gloved hands paused in the air, asking their own question, then dropped back down to the Captain's sides. Doc frowned, silently considering his answer.
"It wouldn't," he finally conceded, disappointment evident in his tone. Balling his hands, he stuffed them in his pockets and took a step away from the Captain. "Very well. Until my work with Millennium is through, I won't start any other projects."
The white-haired man gave a nod of approval. "But you'd better keep her alive for me when the war starts. I won't give up my future for yours."