Chapter 5: This is Just the Beginning

Alucard

He sighed obnoxiously once he noticed the girl, Seras, he learned, was asleep.

Alucard felt something, something strange and unknown to him. It was like what he felt for Integra, only multiplied tenfold in intensity. It was the urge to protect, to support, and to do anything he could to make this girl's life better. Only one week ago she was living a life she loved. Only when he'd shown up, no, when Anderson had forced him into the kid's life, had things gone south.

He was determined to make up for the hell he'd put this this girl through. He was going to fix this.

I will fix this.

I came to in a dark room. The air was musty and thick, much like my throbbing head. My eyelids were partially bonded together by stale tears, and I could feel the grainy residue of slumber clinging to my eyelashes.

Still dazed and disoriented, I slowly raised one of my hands and rubbed my eyes clean. Able to see, I blinked a few times, and then propped myself up into a sitting position.

I'd been lying down on my stomach, perched delicately across a velvety sofa made of what appeared to be a green fabric. The seats released puffs of a musky, very masculine odor whenever I shifted position.

I could see very little in the room I was in. It was fairly dark, and the only light was coming from a lamp with a dim bulb off to my right. The room itself was fairly small and square-shaped, but, judging by the multitude of closed doors lining the walls, I could tell that this was only one room in an area with many.

There was a small table in front of the couch where I sat, and a large cabinet behind me. There was a door on the wall to my right, two more doors on the wall on the opposite side of the room, and a small window, lined with thin, lacy curtains, to my left. The paint was dried out and cracking off in flakes that littered both the floor and the air. The plain, olive wallpaper was curling at the corners, the old glue refusing to hold the paper in place any longer.

I felt a pang of emotion in my chest when I realized that the room was actually a part of Alucard's home. I gulped nervously. I didn't know why I was nervous. Maybe it was because it was the first time I was staying at another person's house. Not only was that person almost a complete stranger, they were a grown man.

I had stayed away from home in the past. Once on a camping trip with Jack, another time on a cruise with my father.

But, now both of those men were no longer able to be my escape. Vacations would go without my dad's nagging for me to wear more sunscreen, or hearing Jack's soft voice as he sang old folk songs around a campfire.

My eyes began to burn as if acid had replaced the essential fluids contained therein. I blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the painfully beautiful memories.

I blinked once more, and saw my father's smile flash behind my eyelids. I inhaled sharply, only to be reminded of Jack's pine-scented cologne, and thick leather jacket.

I swallowed in near agony as I felt cold streams of acid spill out over my eyelids. They traced a burning pathway over my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them.

Many minutes later, when my thoughts finally shifted to a better place, I wiped the nearly dry remains of my remorse from my face, and stood up. The moment I did so, the door to my right swung open.

Alucard stepped in, for the first time not cloaked in his scarlet coat. He was in a simple black, button down shirt, and dark jeans. His hair was an inky, tousled mess that hung over his face in such a way that his eyes were shadowed. He stepped through the threshold and shut the door gently behind him.

On sock covered feet, Alucard padded towards where I stood. I immediately sat back down. It felt like the appropriate thing to do.

He simply sighed and sat down beside me, the sofa cushions lurching slightly under his weight.

He leaned forward and put his face in his hands, not making a sound, not murmuring a single word.

I sat there, staring at him, dumbfounded. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing, or why he'd come to see me.

I couldn't help but let my eyes skim over his hunched figure. The thin fabric of his shirt was pulled tightly over his arms, making it clear to me that Alucard was a man who was very physically active.

I looked away the second the thought crossed my mind. I felt heat flooding to my face against my will, and scratched the back of my head awkwardly.

"How are you feeling?" said a muffled, deep voice.

I looked back over at Alucard and saw a single eye of his staring back at me through his parted fingers. His hair fell over his hands, obscuring the rest of his face, but I could hear the worry in his voice that would've otherwise been etched into his features.

"I'm a lot better, but…" I trailed off, my head turning slowly away from him. "I guess I'm just… I'm just lonely now." I laughed awkwardly after I said that.

Alucard lifted his face, his arm reaching around to rub at the nape of his neck. He didn't make eye contact with me. I looked away in embarrassment.

"So, you want to work for Hellsing," he said, breaking the temporary silence.

"I-," I began.

"I want you to understand what you're getting yourself into."

I turned to look at him. He was lounging now, his posture slackened, his face impassive. He looked away from me, and began to speak.

"Hellsing is a filthy industry. It's not all clean and pretty like your police force was. It's not easy, not by a long shot. It's dangerous, more so than you can even comprehend, more so than I can even explain. You will hunt down criminals, but there will always be one of them hunting you just the same. You think you risked your life as a police girl? If you join Hellsing, you're not risking your life anymore. You're throwing it away, and you cannot retrieve it once it's gone. You can quit, but you will never truly be free of the organization. It's a shadow, a parasitic choice, Seras. Keep in mind that if you want to find even a fibre of evidence that gives you answers to those questions I see in your eyes, you will have to join. Do not let me change the choice I know you've already made. You make your choice, and I guess I'll help make sure you don't end up like your team along the way."

I looked down at my hands, swallowing his words with a small bead of saliva.

I did want answers, more than anything. But, with that speech of his, Alucard had only intensified the fears and doubts I held about joining him in Hellsing. I didn't know whether or not I was making a decision I normally would, but regardless of what was normal, I felt I was doing what was right.

"I want in," I said, not looking up. I didn't have to turn to him to notice when he started staring at me.

I heard the sofa creak as he shifted position. "Have it your way," he said, standing up. "Come," he ordered as he approached the door to the room they were in. "Your training starts now."

"Training?" I asked, but Alucard had left the room before the question had left my mouth.

I followed Alucard out of the room, through a narrow, bare walled hallway, down an even thinner flight of stairs, through a much more tactfully decorated hallway, down yet another stairway, until we finally came to a stop in his basement.

The basement was fully furnished with dark, hardwood floors, an old, beat-up leather sofa, and an incredibly out-of-date looking television, perched upon a rickety, plastic table.

Alucard led me past the pseudo living area to the back of the room where, set into the cream coloured wall, was a black door.

Not bothering to glance back to see if I was still following him, Alucard pressed on, grabbed the small, metal doorknob, and pushed open the door. He stepped forward into the dark room that lay behind.

I wasn't afraid, but I felt uneasy about following this man back into a secluded, seemingly closet-like space, with no way for me to escape, should the need for me to do so arise. I furrowed my brow, scolding myself for believing that I was weak enough to be stopped by this man; for believing that Alucard would even consider harming me. With that thought in mind, I followed Alucard into the room.

Alucard flicked on the light, causing me to stop on my tracks. I was not at all expecting to find what I did in that room.

The lighting was dim and flickering, painting the room in shades of an off white color, making everything seem aged and dank. There were folded chairs propped against the nude, poorly maintained walls. The floor was padded with a dirty, black tarp-like material. When I turned to the right, I realized just where I was.

It was a shooting range with individual booths, all separated by thick, glass, panels. At the end of each booth was a man-shaped target, cut out of a black painted slab of wood, each one thoroughly riddled with bullet holes.

"What-" I started, but Alucard held up a hand to silence me.

"You carry a gun like it's going to give you an infection," he said as he turned to face me.

His eyes were cloudy, as if he wasn't really seeing me. He seemed incredibly distressed, but he did not allow even a dribble of that emotion to seep into his voice.

I stood, silent, unsure of what to say.

"You need to stop it," he said dully.

A moment passed. I stood, my eyes wide with confusion as I shifted my weight from foot to foot.

"I need to stop what?" I asked. I had meant to ask him that question in the same, flat tone he'd used with me, but all the crying I'd been doing had rubbed by throat raw, making me sound more angered than uninterested.

I saw Alucard's shoulders drop as he took two tentative steps towards me, his socks squishing in the black material that coated the floor, creating a sound like the crinkling of plastic. One of his hands shifted behind his back, the muscles tensing as he grabbed something I couldn't see.

But, when I did see, I immediately regretted wanting to know what it was in the first place.

It was a gun.

A normal gun wouldn't have had the slightest effect on me. I've seen them, I've handled them, and I've even fired them a few times. But this gun, this gun had history.

That gun had shot my father.

My vision swam momentarily, and I felt my jaw snap shut. I had apparently been gaping at Alucard without realizing it. I swallowed painfully, setting my jaw while trying to force the watermark images of my father's lifeless corpse from my mind.

"I'm gonna teach you how to shoot," said Alucard, now approaching me quickly. "I am not here to babysit you. I am here to make you into an employee of Hellsing."

His patience had clearly run out, but coincidentally, so had mine.

He'd raised his free hand, motioning to place it on my shoulder, presumably to guide me to a booth, but I wouldn't allow it. I took a step back, ducking just out of Alucard's reach.

I wouldn't fire another gun, not now, and especially not that gun. I couldn't risk hurting someone with the way my dad had gotten hurt. I know that accidents do happen, and I know that in the end, nothing can be changed, but I am not the stone statue that Alucard is. I could not stay solid if I had known I'd done something even remotely similar to what he'd done. I had fallen to pieces so many times in the past few days that I wasn't even sure how I was still functioning normally. I would never completely move on.

The pain I felt was one that shouldn't be hounded away inside of me, inside of my heart. This was an ache that I wanted to talk about, one I wanted to open up to, to let spill not from my eyes, but from my lips as I told someone, anyone about the anguish I felt. I wanted it out of me. I didn't want to be burdened by the unbearable force of those wounds bearing down upon my being any longer. I wanted to ease the weight, but doing so was not as simple as ringing up a therapist and pouring my feelings out. This was a grief so heavy that it forced my lips shut every time I tried to let it out. It was my pain, it was my suffering, and I was not allowed to share it with anyone. It was mine alone, and thought I did not want it, I had to learn to accept it, to tolerate it at the very least.

I had been beginning to make progress with coping, with attempting to move on from my father, but realistically, just how far could I hope to get from those memories in only a few days?

And then there was what had happened to Jack and the rest of my team, all taken within a span of my father's death. It was simply tragedy after tragedy. So much was trying to pull me under, to suffocate me in all the guilt and hatred I felt, but I had been fighting, clawing my way out from under that rubble, because that's what my father, what Jack, and what my team would have wanted me to. I had been making progress indeed, but all of those efforts, those promises I'd made myself in the last few days were all washed away in a torrent of recollection at the sight of a single gun.

"Forget it," I said, my voice now hollow. I would not touch that weapon under any circumstances. My resolve was set, and I refused to let Alucard get his way. "I already know how to shoot," I reasoned flatly.

"Prove it," said Alucard.

He turned the gun in his grip, holding the weapon by the barrel as he thrust the handle towards where I stood.

I shook my head, my blond bangs fluttering against my forehead. "No," I said, a slight tinge of panic working its way into my voice. "Not now. Not with that."

Alucard raised his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of a bland uncaring and a dark accusation. He dramatically drew the gun towards him as he made a show out of holding it up to the winking lights above, as if inspecting the gun for a flaw.

"I don't see your issue," he said, dropping his arms to his sides, and his eyes to mine. Less than a second later, a flicker of understanding crossed his features. He pursed his lips for an instant, and then retreated away from me.

Dismayed, I simply stood. I became uncannily aware of the way my heart was beating, the sound my lungs made with every inhale and exhale I took, the faint glare of the lights against my eyelashes. An empty, shell shocked sensation was working its way through my body, and I didn't want to stop it.

Alucard, now on the other side of the room, dropped the gun into an empty, plastic bucket. He turned around, pocketing his hands.

"Get into a booth," he said. His voice was firm, but I couldn't care less about what he wanted me to do.

I stood fast, not moving an inch.

I saw Alucard scowl, but the motion was tossed aside only a second later.

"I understand," said Alucard. He reached to his left, grabbed one of the folding chairs and propped it open. He dropped heavily into the seat, stretching out his legs as he folded his arms behind his head. The fabric of his shirt pulled against his taut arms.

"I understand that you feel like shit. I understand that this is hard. I get that you don't want to touch the weapon that killed your father," Alucard stated. "What I don't understand is why you'd think that I give a fuck about any of that."

I swayed where I stood. I wasn't composed of enough substance to think of a reply. I was so taken aback by his response that I had no idea how to continue.

"You chose Hellsing, kid. You chose to get your hands dirty. You made that choice the moment you joined up with your police squad. But now, there is no police squad anymore," Alucard hissed.

He stood abruptly and crossed the room in a flash. Before I knew what was going on, Alucard was in front of me. He bent over, bringing his face level with my own.

His eyes were borderline maniacal, the red irises pulled into a thin ring around his dilated pupils. His sclera were webbed with swollen blood vessels, blood shot from something other than alcoholism.

"You have nothing. Nothing," breathed Alucard, his voice low and frightening. "Actually, no. You think you have nothing left to fight for. You can't fight for your father, for that boy, for your squad. You can't fight for the dead, so you need to focus on the living, and you can't do that if you-" Alucard lightly tapped my collarbone with his index finger, "- yourself aren't alive. Do you understand me?"

I didn't respond. I didn't know how to.

"You need to live for those who can't anymore," said Alucard, "You hear me?"

I did hear him. He seemed to notice the slight movement of my eyes, the way the muscles in my face slackened in response.

Alucard placed his hands on my shoulders. I felt my lips unstick from each other, my face growing pale instead of flush.

"You will fight for Hellsing. You will fight for what's right," he said, his eyes completely fixated on my own. I couldn't look anywhere without coming across that vibrant red gaze. "Hellsing fights to protect those who have been wronged, those who have nobody left. You made your choice. Stand by it, and save yourself from your heart."

I blinked at Alucard. His words had jolted me from one reverie to another. I no longer felt weightless and frail. I felt a heaviness of another kind settle into my gut. I remembered my goals, why I joined the police force in the first place.

You need to live for those who can't anymore. Alucard's words flitted like paper butterflies in my skull, their meaning only now dawning on me.

I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted, and I knew how to make it happen. I wanted answers, I wanted justice, and Hellsing was my only option to getting any of those things. I had a purpose; I had reason to live on.

Alucard was right. I needed to stop what I was doing and get a hold of myself. I needed to be the woman that everyone I knew thought I was. I needed to grow up, and uphold my decision. Alucard said that I couldn't fight for the dead, but he was wrong. I could most definitely fight for them, for what they stood for, to keep their memory alive, along with myself. I could do both, and I finally realized how to do it.

Alucard seemed to have picked up on all of the things my mind was telling me, of all the things I'd become aware of. His eyelids were lazily draped across his eyes, his eyebrows tilted in a smug expression, but I knew under that mask that he was satisfied, relieved even, that he'd managed to have some kind of effect on me with that speech he'd given. I knew what he was trying to get me to do, and I wouldn't let him do it. I wouldn't snivel or cry, I wouldn't complain or whine. I would prove Alucard wrong. I am strong, and I would make it so that he would never forget that fact about me.

I sighed out a deep breath, my eyes intently turned upon Alucard's.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," I said innocently, though I made the challenge in my words very clear with the way I slightly cocked my head to the right, raising my eyebrows at Alucard, daring him to retaliate.

Alucard huffed, his breath glancing off my cheeks.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered deftly, before releasing my shoulders and turning on his heel. He put his hands on his hips as he crossed over to the other side of the room, his back to me.

I was glad he wasn't looking at me. I was glad that he wouldn't see the faint, unfamiliar feeling of a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Author's Note: See? Nobody died this time! Dunno how long it'll last though...

Ahem.

Isn't it nice to see Alucard not trying to rip somebody's head off? Actually, wait... I've just come up with the most amazing idea...

Anyway, thank you for all the love and reviews I got with the last chapter! I'm glad you guys are speaking up more :'D Reviews make me want to update faster and write more content, so if that's your one and only demand of me, leave a review and I will try and grant your wish! Thanks for reading!

-Shan