AN: Having just uploaded another chapter onto one of my other works-in-progress (and subsequently receiving about 500 hits in one weekend) I am now motivated to brush the dust off of this piece and get crackin. It's been about 3 years since I've touched this one (the other one sat around for half a decade), and so it is a bit fresher in my mind. It also allows me to put forth the darker tone that I've been tending towards, whereas my other work is an exercise in keeping the mood light. Let's see if I can't finish both of these stories off strong. So once again, after extended hiatus, I bring you...

Vampiric Lone Wolf Blues

Chapter 4: Defiant

The scars burned for days on end. It was as if his raw skin was constantly being shredded off and doused in sulfur. Just a few days before, he could stand out in the late afternoon hours and relish the slightest bit of sun he could physically handle, the last inkling of his humanity. Solar rays were the enemy now. He would no sooner let even the thinnest sliver of light near his battered body than he would inhale a mouthful of silver dust. His handlers assured him that he would heal in time, that the scars would remain but the bulk of the pain would subside. He knew better than that, though. Like a bad knee or a weak shoulder, he knew these scars would nag at him for the rest of his "life". He already felt the lingering effects from his branding. It was as if his flesh was numb from where that Hellsing dog carved her symbol into him. He knew that no matter how much "healing" was achieved, no matter how far these scars faded... he would always feel them, from here till the end of his days.

He had spent most of the last week writhing in his coffin. Behind the dark and unforgiving wood, he felt his pain dulled, if only slightly. The aura of confinement was unusually comforting. Even while enduring the white hot lashes spreading across his body, he felt safe within the ebony container. And so for days on end, he lay there, gritting his teeth and hissing at every shooting pain that snaked through flesh and bone and blood.

Two weeks passed since the confrontation on the bridge, and Saint's recovery was nearing its end. The pain had, for the most part, passed; what remained were spots and patterns of that eerie numbness, speckled over his skin. He was out of his coffin during the night now, filling up on the sustenance he was provided and skulking around Hellsing mansion, searching out any little diversion that would sate his boredom. Integra had not yet given the ok on deploying him back into the field, or even participating in drills. He yearned to stretch his legs and run, simply run and feel a cool autumn breeze on his face as he moved by light of the moon.

By the light of the moon… Saint stopped in front of one of the towering windows of Hellsing Manor. A nearly full moon poured its blue glow inside. He clambered up onto the brick sill and sat in silence, looking out over the yard. It wasn't so long ago that I was enjoying the sun… The light, the warmth… It was all I ever wanted. At the end of the day, after all was said and done… I just wanted to soak it in. My country, my home. My sun. And now… His gaze softened as his mood sombered. Have I really changed so much? That I crave the night and the cold? He held his right hand close to his face and flexed it, sensing the power and tension he had so quickly become accustomed to. It was the coiled strength of something beyond human. Have I become something more than human? Or am I something fallen... what have I retained, what have I lost? Simmering rage bubbled from within, and his melancholy gaze tightened into a scowl. It's not lost... it was taken from me. Stolen. My freedom, my humanity... I didn't choose to become this, this... doppelganger. I can live with what I have become... but I can't ever forget that it was forced upon me. Ever. He closed his eyes, and clenched his fist even tighter. No matter what... I need to keep my own counsel. If I am forced to be a soldier in this ridiculous war, then I will keep what parts of me I can to myself. She may own my body... but Hellsing does not own my soul...

"If it makes you feel any better… it gets easier with time."

Saint jumped as he heard the soft, female voice echo through his head. The sudden intrusion derailed his train of thought. He scanned the corridor quickly, looking for a possible figure in the shadows. She had to be nearby…

"I'm sorry for interrupting your thoughts… I'm coming up the stairwell now"

Saint maintained a scowl as Seras stepped into the hall a few windows down. She was in her civilian clothes, possibly coming out from a patrol similar to the one she was running when they engaged Anderson. Or maybe she had just been taking her down time around the halls as he was. Either way…

"I thought I told you to stay out of my head."

Seras averted her eyes. She couldn't meet Saint's vicious gaze, and even without hearing the echoes of her emotions, one could very easily see that she was shifty, nervous, almost scared. She was still intimidated by his fire, his caustic mannerisms, and after what happened to him over the canal…

"I'm sorry… I wasn't trying to intrude. Your thoughts are just so… loud. I couldn't help but hear them."

Saint squinted at her response, judging her. Her honesty was just as apparent as her discomfort, and although he wanted to rip into her, to turn her away and be alone, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if there was one person in this entire god-forsaken fortress that he couldn't fault, it was her. After all… she had his back against Anderson. She supported him, called in the rescue. She could have chickened out and fled, but she stuck around. She may be a timid girl with the aggressiveness of a lame duck… but she was no coward.

"Didn't your master tell you that you shouldn't apologize for reading others' thoughts?"

"Yes, but…" Seras had no further retort. It was her master's way to constantly remind her of her weaknesses. She was painfully aware of how passive she was, how much his strength and presence dwarfed hers. She was a mere infant compared to him, and that thought, that feeling stuck with her in and out of every mission, every hunt. It was his own abrasive way to push her, to motivate her to become stronger, to grow into the bloodline she was made a part of.

"So you feel weak for not invading my mind?"

"Umm…" Seras looked up. She had heard something in that last question; a curious, inquiring tone. His face was still filled with that same restrained rage, but it was no longer directed at her. "Well yes…"

"Why? Just because HE said so? Is that what you base your worth on?"

"But… That's what I'm here for. To serve, to fight. I need to be strong so that I can –"

"Don't you think standing up to your master requires a certain amount of strength?"

Seras pulled in a small gasp. She was taken aback by such a bold question. She shot Saint a befuddled look, betraying immense confusion. "I could never stand up to my master. He is far too powerful. He could… devour me in an instant."

"That's my point. If Alucard is so great, so strong, so larger than life… Wouldn't even the smallest little defiance require strength in and of itself? Despite his wishes… You maintain a sliver of your humanity. You refuse to give it up."

Seras stiffened, feeling cross at the notion that she would willingly resist the wishes of her superiors. "I don't want to be insubordinate. I am here by my own choice." Her voice softened. "I know your situation is different than mine. You are not here because you want to be. You were forced into this. But if you can work with me, with us, you can accomplish something here. There is no need to be so defiant."

Saint closed his eyes and snickered, a smirk quickly appearing on his face. "Defiant…" He let the word play across his lips. "You and I… we are the epitome of defiant. We defy Iscariot and those who would attempt to put us to the grave once and for all. We defy death itself to remain on this earth. If I have nothing else, if I have no other choice that is my own…." He opened his eyes, and Seras met a gaze of scarlet intensity, betraying the rage that so eagerly wished to escape "…then I will be defiant to the end."

Seras strolled along towards her room, those words echoing in her head. "Defiant to the end." At her core, she was disdainful of such an attitude. As a policewoman, she took an oath to protect and serve. Following orders was always part of the job. She always made an effort to maintain respect towards her superiors, especially towards Sir Integra. Obedience was her credence, and she was proud of her loyal nature, but…

"Defiant to the end." Seras muttered the phrase to herself, tasting the resistance laden in the words. From Saint's mouth, there was power. Fearlessness. An unshaking willingness to turn against the grain, and against authority. She told herself that it was merely his confidence that she admired, but deep down, she wished that her own resolve was as unshakable as his. Saint, Alucard, Integra… each bore their own brand of strength. Compared to them, Seras was a mouse, with a squeak barely loud enough to be heard among the lions. She had made great strides during her time at Hellsing, but secretly yearned to attain the inner primality those three had shown in battles, out in their war. She was a vampire, one of Alucard's kind; she wished to prove herself as much.

Arriving back at her chambers, Seras closed the door behind her, and stripped down to her tank top. The heavy coat she wore out in public was to hide the paleness of her skin, and to conceal her firearms; she much preferred dressing light. Her usual post-patrol meal was waiting for her on the table. The bucket, the bag. That familiar bit of unease creeped up from her gut and attempted to shiver over her skin. "Defiant to the end." The words whispered from the depths of her psyche, and she quelled her hesitance. She grabbed the blood packet, tore the corner off with one lethally sharp fang, and proceeded to quickly drain the contents, a single drop escaping her mouth and slithering down her cheek to her peach-pale neck. If I'm to be stronger… this is as good a start as any.

Wandering through the dark corridors of the manor, shirt loose, branding exposed, Saint ran his fingers over the cool brick that comprised his prison. With every periodic break in the shadows, Saint slowed his gait, basking in the glow of the moonlight coming in through the glass. As he passed each window, Saint sped up his steps, eager to reach the next little sliver and allow the light to play across his bare skin. Time was irrelevant. He had pushed all other thoughts out of his head. Tonight, he had no other purpose but to revel in what little freedom he had. He refused to keep track of the laps he was taking. Surely he had looped for hours, but he didn't care. The memory of sprinting through the streets of London was overwhelming. The feeling of the hunt, of the wind breaking across his face, of the rolling thunder that sent chills of excitement down his spine; The memory was so fresh in his mind, and here he was, mere steps from freedom, from being able to spread his wings and yet –

The slightest wisp of a shadow caught the corner of his mind's eye. So absorbed into his own roiling mind, he almost missed it. It was the tail of a coat. A long, crimson fabric that danced an inch or two from the floor. Saint came to a halt, not looking back at the figure he had just passed. His fingers still rested on the last brick he had touched, allowing them to play across the aged grooves of the castle wall.

"Is there some rule I'm breaking here?"

Alucard snorted lightly. "Cull your tongue, hatchling. I'll not suffer your impudence as my master would. I'd just as soon smite your tainted bloodline into oblivion."

"..." Saint had no response. He could feel the fringe of a deep darkness on the edge of his words, tinged in the air. For all of his bravado, for all of his posturing and open resistance... There was something within the heart of Hellsing that he truly feared. Behind the barked orders of the master to her pack, behind the facade of the obedient soldier and his weapon, there was something lurking, beyond his vision, beyond the bulk of his senses... There was something that stole the warmth from the air, that put the slightest pressure on his chest. For once, he appreciated Integra. She kept the shackles and the reins on something that should not roam unchained. "What is it that you want?"

"It is my master's wish to inform you that you are to be placed back into active status. Your recovery is sufficient. You will be assigned a new task, and deployed alongside the Policewoman. It is my opinion that you will be satisfied with the assignment."

Saint turned to face Alucard. "And what makes you say that?"

Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, Alucard drew a sharp grin. "Forget stretching your legs… you'll finally get to stretch your fangs."

Saint stood before the desk of Integra Hellsing. It was a room he felt nothing but contempt to be in. Enormous, gaudy, reeking of arrogance bred from authority. An authority received by birth. By virtue of her blood – her achingly sweet-smelling blood – she stood where she did, the blade of Hellsing handed down from on high. The power she manipulated under her fingertips was nothing she toiled for, nothing she worked or bled for, and yet he was compelled to dance the waltz she strung out for him. He held no respect for this puppeteer, he never could. So he made no attempt to hide his disdain, hands deep in his pockets, slouching in his stance. His gaze, hiding none of his rage, was trained on Sir Integra only because it had been ordered to do so. Seras stood to Saint's right, at attention but uneasy. Saint's fire and Integra's icy demeanor filled the room, clashing as their eyes met across the office's desk.

"It is my observation that your recovery has been moving along smoothly." Integra dispassionately sized up her broodling. His grey shirt was wrinkled, carelessly buttoned across his torso. His hair was unkempt, skewed every which way he had tussled it last. He stood before her in a manner unbefitting the stature of Hellsing. He oozed of disrespect and open contempt. He was a tumor on the order she so desperately strove for, and in any other case she would have sliced off such an out-of-place piece; but his unique situation dictated that she suffer his antics, and while he may have been a stain on the image of order she so strove for, Saint had proven that his fury could be redirected away from her institution and unleashed on her unwitting enemies. "Furthermore, you managed to prove both your usefulness in battle and willingness to engage the enemy, despite the fact that you were engaged in a sortie that you had no chance of winning. You held off an elite member of Iscariot long enough for backup to arrive, which is far more than can be said for many that have squared off against the paladin."

Saint crossed his arms but maintained a locked gaze with his superior. His lips curled slightly as the left corner of his mouth raised slightly into a lopsided smirk. "Is that as close to a compliment as I'll ever receive from you?"

"Quite," was the simple reply. "My expectations are for you are to maintain yourself at that level of utility. You will need it for your next assignment, with a target I believe you can actually eliminate."

The smirk quickly dissipated from Saint's face. "One that I can actually - So what was the last one, a test? A joke? A suicide mission!?" His hands unfolded from his chest and slammed quietly but firmly onto Integra's desk. "You keep me alive just so you can use me as a meat shield? You are damn lucky that I am FORCED to be here –"

Integra rose from her chair and met his ferocity across her workspace, her own hands coming down in a thud. "You will perform the tasks I assign you, luck be damned! We sent you there despite the reality that your foe was insurmountable to you because if we didn't, we would be down an agent essential to this operation! And even though I wouldn't shed a tear were you to meet an early demise in your career here, I did NOT send you out to perish! I sent you out to defend and survive, and in that you accomplished your mission. Yes, your life will be in danger while you serve here…" Integra raised her hands up off the desk, clasping them at the small of her back, regaining her normal composure quickly. "- but it was my understanding that you would rather risk life and limb under my direction than the alternative. Was I incorrect in my assessment?" Integra quirked her eyebrow slightly at Saint.

Saint's snarl faded into his trademark scowl, his lips tightening as he pushed himself off the desk. "You have my life and limb because I have no choice in the matter. My cooperation is a completely different story. I am NOT afraid to do this the hard way. So as little as you care about what I think – "

Integra raised a hand to silence him. "In shocking contrast to what you believe, I do care about what you think, to the extent that I care about not having an un-cooperative thorn in my side. I did not send you out to the bridge expecting you die. I sent you out to resolve in an emergency situation, one that was highly dangerous to both agents involved, but one that I believed you were capable enough to resolve. It is never my intent to expend a resource in a wasteful fashion. You are more useful to me alive, and exponentially more useful if you willing to follow orders. Rest assured, I will never send you off to fail. It is a waste of both our times, and I could always simply dispose of you here."

Saint's face was stone as he listened to Integra. Fury raged inside him as he heard her cold attempts to assuage him. Nothing could change the fact that he was stuck here against his will. The idea that he was being "allowed" to be a useful tool to Integra's designs only served to fuel the fire. He was a Hellsing dog on an ethereal leash, struggling to bite the hand that feeds, loathing every nanosecond of it, and yet…

His gaze floated briefly to his left, to the young, cherry-headed policewoman standing ever so silently in the corner, doing her best to be invisible. As ice and fire clashed in the middle of the room, she was simply avoiding getting burned. He caught Seras' gaze briefly, and she inhaled slightly when their eyes met. Saint could almost hear echoes of their last conversation ringing through her head, his shots at her passive nature sending doubts flickering into her thoughts. Her eyes glazed over as he listened to her stomach knot from the unease of trying to match his piercing gaze. But then, softly, another thought clicked in her mind. She tensed, not out of fear, but from forcing that knot out of her system. Her demeanor hardened as she let those lingering doubts flow out, to be replaced by a stoic front he didn't know she had. Seras straightened in her stance, and focused in on his gaze as she pushed his probing mind out of hers. Saint almost couldn't contain a genuine grin as he heard her last lingering self-command before being blocked from hearing her thoughts: Be defiant. He let his eyes linger on her a second longer. Well, at least I have a reason to defy.

"So… if you've decided to keep me around, then you better have something interesting for me to do… Boss." Saint spoke as he turned back to face his icy commander.

Integra's expression did not flinch, but the cutting ice had subsided from her tone. "I'm glad you see things my way." She took a seat back in her chair. "I'll get right to the point. We've recently obtained some bothersome information that has taken a priority in our operations. It seem that Iscariot is aware of your… 'Recruitment' into our organization." Saint raised an eyebrow at this but did not comment. "Iscariot views us as a serious threat to them and the Vatican as a whole, and having another soldier such as yourself on our team puts them at a disadvantage. As such, our Vatican spies tell us that Iscariot has seen it fit to promote one of their recruits to Paladin status, and add to their own elite force, matching our numbers increase."

"Aww, Iscariot sees me as a threat? I'm touched."

"Quite. Alucard was sent out recently to scout, track, and assassinate the new recruit, but his… high profile nature made it difficult for him to get near the Holy City without raising considerable alarms. Sufficient resistance was raised in time to allow the new paladin an escape of Vatican City, and when they countered by sending Anderson into London, we were forced to call Alucard off the hunt to engage Anderson. Needless to say, both parties are now aware that their opponent has a new recruit, and both are aware that the other is aware. This has become a chess match, a game of maneuvering. Taking out this new agent before he matures into the nightmare that Anderson poses is priority number one as far as I am concerned."

Saint had begun pacing around Integra's office, running his fingers along the rows of old books lining the many shelves decorating her office. "If we send Alucard, they send Anderson. You obviously believe that our security is not tight enough to have Alucard leave unnoticed, so a sneak attack is out of the question, and you also believe that we are too vulnerable to stop Anderson ourselves – " gesturing to Seras as he spoke " – leaving us at a virtual stalemate. And yet…" Saint pulled out one of the many hardcovers and began idly flipping through its pages. "… You have a mission for me?"

"For the both of you." Seras tensed at finally being addressed by her commander during the meeting. "Both you and Seras are relatively young vampires – very young if we are comparing you to your respective masters." Saint's fingers froze mid-page flip. Fresh visions of the femme fatale who had turned him rose briefly to the forefront of his thoughts before he shook them away and resumed his idle actions. "You both are still quite able to tolerate a degree of sunlight for extended periods of time, however taxing it may be. Furthermore, Saint is virtually unknown to Iscariot, and Seras is still a fresh face to them. With Alucard's immense presence setting off every early warning system they have in place, it would be difficult to get him close to the new paladin without encountering resistance that would slow down even him. However, your youth and unformed powers actually give you an advantage in this scenario. You can get close without being detected. You can walk through the streets as normal people, scouting as humans in the day, and hunting at night. I am proposing an infiltration-assassination mission for the both of you. Hunt down this new threat to Hellsing. Find him, smell him out if you must – and cut the life right out of him. Hellsing and the Crown are counting on you to keep this country safe!"

Seras knocked her heels together at that, and with chin held high she let out a loud "Yes, Sir!" Saint finished his mindless page flipping and closed the cover, turning to read the title once more. He allowed that small, sly smile to play up the left corner of his mouth, and with eyes still trained on the tome, he spoke the most affirmative words he had all day – "Sounds like fun."

AN: Once again, I find myself on the barrel-end of distraction. Once again, I feel like I have left a few of you who have written really positive review to my work to wait for years before getting more content. And I feel genuinely bad. But! For the returning readers, I feel that you most likely have forgotten my first few chapters, and so hopefully you get the fresh experience of starting from the beginning all over again! And for new readers…. I REALLY suck at updating in a timely manner, but eventually… EVENTUALLY I WILL GET THIS DONE! In the meantime… Enjoy another chapter of Vampiric Lone Wolf Blues