Thanks to all who reviewed – I was worried that the crossover might be a bit 'weird' but it seems to be rather well received. On a story note, I've altered some events a bit but hopefully it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Also, there's been a time jump of about a year.

It was midnight at the orphanage and if the weather had been cooperating with the mood, it would have been raining in true melodramatic fashion. Fortunately for the woman making her way towards the building, the sky was clear and there was enough moonlight to guide her way. She stumbled as fast as she could, fatigued though she was, and continually peeked over her shoulder. She was so sure that she had escaped; but with her husband, changed as he was, she might never be truly sure.

She had meant to go farther west, and perhaps it had been a mistake not to stay at that strange mountainThe place had disturbed her, however, and she had moved on, near though she was to delivery. Now, however, she could come no further and she was told that she might find shelter here. The priest who ran the place was apparently looked upon very favorably and would likely give her shelter. She stopped for a moment, aching, and looked at the moon.

'At least, if not for me, then for my child.'

When she reached the door, she knocked tentatively. Anderson, busy at the sink cleaning up the remains of the night's dinner, heard the knock and opened the door to find a heavily pregnant brunette standing on his doorstep. He regarded her carefully but kindly.

"How may Ah help ye, child?"

"I need – " Suddenly, her face twisted and she grasped at her bulging abdomen. Father Anderson did not wait for her to say anything else. He carefully helped her inside and sat her down, ignoring the mess caused by the amniotic sac rupturing. Her face was a tangle of pain as he turned from her and ran up the stairs.

"Kurt!" He called, pounding on the door.

Inside, the boy rubbed his eyes, hearing the urgency in the priest's voice. He bamfed outside of his door as soon as he could.

"Vat is it, Father?"

"Get towels and sheets and put them in your room. Come downstairs quickly. You must help me."

He nodded and did as Anderson had requested. When he came to the kitchen he found the woman groaning and Anderson holding her hand, trying to coach her through the process. Kurt nearly blushed, though one could not tell by looking at his skin, as he realized what was about to happen. Anderson fixed his green eyes upon the blue teenager.

"She needs tah be upstairs, in a bed," he said quietly. "Can you do it – safely? Without harm to her or the child?"

He bit his lip, considering, and then nodded. Carefully he reached out and touched the woman and took them to the first bed he could think of, his own. Her pain-hazed eyes looked up at him and she wondered what sort of dream she was in, so many strange things occurring around her. Perhaps the delivery at Wundagore would have been no stranger, but it was too late for that now. In a rush that smelt of sulfur, she found herself deposited in a bed with the strange looking creature next to her.

Anderson opened the door with a nudge of his should, then set down the water he was carrying and nodded to Kurt.

"Dinnae come unless I call you."

Kurt stood outside of his room, tired but with all thought of sleep banished for the night. Past midnight and into the early hours Anderson worked as the other residents of the house slept. It was an eternity, or so it seemed, before he opened to door to Kurt who was pacing almost as nervously as though he'd been the father. He looked up at Anderson, but the sight of the priest's face made his heart sink.

"The woman?" He asked, frightened.

"Did nae make it," he sighed. "I thought she was gonna, despite her exhaustion – but she took a turn for the worst near the end." Seeing the distress on the boy's face, he reached out to him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. "There was nothing neither you nor Ah coulda done."

"And ze child?" His voiced trembled as he asked.

"Children," Anderson corrected. "A boy and ah wee lass. Both alive and well – sleeping."

Birth and death, neither of which the boy had truly been close to before, had touched him in a single night and it was plain to see that he was troubled. He fought his shock and despair at what had just transpired, however, and managed a small smile.

"Might I see zem?"

The priest nodded and allowed him into the room. The body of the woman was covered by a white sheet and he avoided the sight of it. Instead, he peered inside a chest which had been lined with sheets where the two were rested.

"Twins," he breathed.

"Aye. The one with the dark hair is the girl and the light blond the boy."

He reached his three-digited hand out to stroke their heads.

"Did she name them?"

A nod. "Pietro and Wanda."

"Pietro," he said with a smile. "Peter. A good strong name." Then another pained expression crossed his face. "Will we bury her out back?"

Anderson paused then nodded.

"Yes – but outside tha gate. She was nae baptized. Gypsy pagan by what I gathered and we cannae bury her on consecrated ground. But just outside the boundary ought to be alright. After all, we cannae let the body being tae rot in th' aer."

"And ze children?" He asked once again.

"Will be Christened with the names she gave them."

There was a final nod and Kurt slumped against a wall. Father Anderson, seeing how stressful the night had been for him, carried the boy to his own bed. He then stood and went to bury the dead; it would not do to have the children see her and get a fright. He deposited her children in a nursery where they placed abandoned babies then took her out wrapped in a white sheet. She was buried in a simple wooden coffin.

As he filled in the dirt, Anderson crossed himself.

"May the Lord have mercy on your heathen soul," he whispered then headed back inside.

He contented himself to sleep in a loveseat in one of the many downstairs rooms. He slept dreamlessly; yet not so with all in the house.

One small boy, not even a day old, dreamt of a sensation he had only instinct to know of and no ability to name.

The sense of running, running fast, faster than anything.

It was as if he were speed itself.

And that does it for Marvel characters for now. No more non-Hellsing introductions for a while. Instead there will be more on those already present.