Hey look, a chapter. Happy 2012.

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Ignoring Seth was proving to be more difficult than Annie had anticipated.

At first, it wasn't a terribly hard task. Seth seemed to be avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him. She only saw glimpses of him rounding corners or, occasionally, heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. They never made eye contact. They never touched. They never spoke. On the rare occasion that a message had to be passed, Seras played messenger girl to "whoever needs to be told about this."

But more nights and more approaching social deadlines were putting Annie in a bind. Some of these events were such that it would be inappropriate to attend without a date or an escort. A glittering evening gown with no arm candy was not her favorite position to be in; although it was generally accepted while she was a younger teenager- with her mother so recently "passed on"- the whispers were beginning to start. Snippets of conversations and thoughts she'd overheard contained words like "ice queen", "pretentious", "lesbian"; words that never bothered her before were beginning to make her blood boil and more than once her tongue began to bleed from literal bite wounds. They didn't know her, they didn't have the right whisper to each other as they refreshed their over-priced rouge in their ornate restrooms. More and more, she understood how her mother must have felt proving herself to the council. Annie had the council's respect. She wanted to make the rest of them respect her-or at least her position- too.

So it was that she picked up the phone one night and let her fingers dial the first number that came to mind. One ring. Two. Three, four. Five, six, seven, eight.

"We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not available," droned the electronic female voice. "Please pr-"

Annie replaced the phone in its cradle, letting her hand linger as she stared at the machine. It was time for a new one, she decided. This one must have served the office for twenty, thirty years. She stared at it for a minute longer before reaching out and trying again. She drummed the fingers of her free hand on the desk as she listened to the rings.

""We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not available," again droned the electronic female voice. "Please press-"

Annie slammed down the phone. "Fuck you too," she muttered. She sighed. A minute passed. One more time, she decided.

"We're sorry, the numbe-" Annie was about to hang up again when a fluid voice interrupted the automated one. "Annie?"

A grin broke across Anessa's face and she exhaled. "Mum. Hi."

"Hello, dear. What do you need?"

"Do you have time to talk?"

"If I didn't, I would make some. I assume, however, that you wish to talk and my part is to listen."

"Mm." Annie began to relate what had happened over the past few months, hazing some of the stickier details and quickly skimming through to her current troubles. She told of her conversation with Father Alex, of the tension between her and Seth, of the paperwork backlogs, and most importantly, of the explosive fight. Integra's end remained silent, save for a barely perceptible steady rhythm of inhaling and exhaling. The line remained quiet for five minutes after Annie finished her unloading.

Finally, Integra's voice broke the silence.

"Do you know how many men died under my command?"

Annie blinked. Of all the things she had said, she felt that to be one of the least interesting. Surely her mother would understand the burden of responsibility for deaths, how unacceptable and avoidable they were. "Wh-what?" she stammered.

"Do you know how many died following my orders?" Integra's voice was even. For all the world, she sounded like she could have been bracing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she filed her nails lazily. It had never even occurred to Annie to ask, or check the records, on how many men had been transferred as replacement personnel. She made a wild guess based on the number of decades her mother had run the organization.

"Five hundred? No, a thousand?" Her nails scratched along the grooves in the wooden desk as her brow furrowed.

"That sounds somewhere close to the yearly count, at times."

"You can't be serious." Her voice held a mixture of disbelief, disdain, and possibly a hint of disgust. She couldn't see her mother sending so many in for slaughter, especially with her father available to take care of things on his own without any human lives needing to enter the battlefield.

From the other end of the line, Anessa heard a sigh.

"Do you remember when you asked me if I was happy in my job, Anessa? This is part of the job. Sending people to die. Signing their pensions for whatever family they may have, though that's very uncommon as you may…or perhaps, may not…have noticed. The running joke in the military, for those who knew of our division, was that Hellsing is a great career option if you don't have any retirement plans. What Hellsing does is necessary. Unfortunately, we deal with creatures that feed on the very species that serve as our operatives and agents. You can't carry this weight around on your shoulders forever. At some point, you have to accept and forgive and continue on."

"But…" Annie tried to interject, but realized that she had no idea what to say.

"I made too many mistakes adjusting to my role. For some time—around your age- I was too careless, too reckless, too wild. I was the director, and I was cocky. Then, when the death tolls started rolling in exponentially higher as the war started, I sobered up. It's a hard burden, giving the orders. But you can't take it personally, because it will destroy you, and you cannot let it. You must accept responsibility, but not let the responsibility break you. There is a difference between necessary casualties and recklessness. As long as you aren't being reckless, you have permission to sleep soundly at night, though you may not anyway. It's just part of the job."

Annie ran her hand up to her neck and gripped her hair slightly. She sighed heavily. "It's hard."

"I know."

"I don't like it."

"Good."

Annie bit her lip. "And the other things…"

"Seth is right."

"What?" Anesa let out a low, involuntary growl. She called for support and advice, not for her to take his side. All she wanted to know was how to resolve this to her best advantage.

"Don't be angry at me for answering your plea for help in a way you don't want to hear. He's right, as much as it pains me to say it. This whole phone call just proves his point. You don't want to resolve your situation, you want to get your way. You've lived too long under the idea that you can treat people however you want, and not bear the consequences, because you have never cared what they thought. I did the same. The difference, though, is that I cared, and chose not to change because I couldn't afford to. I never stopped having to prove myself. You don't have anything to prove. You crave companionship, but the way you treat people will never earn their trust… you may get companions, but not real companionship."

"You taught me to be aloof!" Annie protested. Her free hand pounded on the desk once, then splayed against it as her shoulders tensed.

"I know." Integra's voice seemed laced with weariness. "I taught you what I knew. And what I thought was best for you. But you and I are not cut from the same cloth. We don't come from the same upbringing. And I never toyed with people for the hell of being in control."

"He left me first."

"He said he was sorry."

"It doesn't fix it!"

"No. But humans are so fragile; emotionally, physically, mentally. He was scared of rejection."

"Ironic."

"Indeed. But he wants to fix it. Give him a chance. Don't be alone, Annie."

"I have Seras."

"You love him."

Annie paused. She scrunched her hair with her free hand again, then let it trail down to an edge and twirled it. She leaned back in her chair and slumped. "Maybe."

"Give him a chance, dear. And not just because you need a trophy dangling on your arm. They'll talk about that too, you know. That an elite member became a vampire that you're now courting. Let them talk. Just don't let past pain keep you in pain now, do you understand?"

"Yeah," Annie mumbled.

"As for the king. Get used to it. Paperwork is eighty percent of your job. Draw hearts and smiley faces on the damn things if it makes you happier about it."

"Really?" Anessa's eyes gleamed. The possibilities.

"I don't recommend it, but you could probably get away with it."

Anessa pinched the bridge of her nose. There was a pregnant pause on the line as she settled on words. "Okay, mum. Can I call you back later? I think I might have some things to take care of."

"Always."

The phone clicked back into the cradle softly. Fingers beat against the desk as she decided on her next move. She felt...better. Not perfect, but better. It was a start.