Author's Note: Chapter Four, everybody.

The journal didn't look special. It looked old, really. It's leather cover was worn and faded, and it pages were yellowed slightly. Anderson sat at his desk with it, a pen in hand. So many questions. Where to start?

*Vlad?*

*Yes?*

*How did I die?*

There was long pause as he waited for his brother's answer.

*Are you sure you want to know that right now?*

Now he was the one hesitating.

*Why don't we just start at the beginning?*

*All right.*

*You were born during the harvest season when I was eight. You were a bit of a surprise, actually.*

Anderson smiled a little at that.

*None the less, you were loved. Father tasked me with looking out for you, a task I eagerly accepted. You followed me everywhere I went as soon as you could crawl. You hated it when I left you behind for whatever reason.*

He chuckled at the mental image of himself as a toddler following his brother around.

*When I did leave you behind, even by accident, you would sit down and cry until I came back and picked you up. As we got older we were inseparable. We learned and studied together, and once old enough, we received our military training together. You seem to retain the skills you learned, as well as some news ones, as I noticed in Badrick.*

Anderson smiled to himself.

*Lucky for me that I did. I was useful to Iscariot with those skills, even if I didn't remember anything else but my first name.*

At the Hellsing Manor, Alucard chuckled.

Anderson looked up at a knock on his door.

"Yes?"

"Father Anderson, will you come play with us?" asked a boy.

The paladin smiled, though the child couldn't see it through the door.

"I'll be right out, Michael."

He chuckled as he heard the boy hurried off.

*You'll have to tell me more later. Duty calls.*

*Until next time, brother.*

Anderson closed the journal and went outside to play football with the children. The children loved using Anderson as their big toy, and he didn't mind being their toy on occasion. They couldn't break him after all, unlike all their actual toys.

Seeing the ball under their beloved Father's heel, the children suddenly turned the game into American Football, launching themselves at the massive priest and tackling him to the ground with sheer numbers. It was now a wrestling match,... sort of. However, the children were familiar with these 'wrestling matches' and got creative. They ripped off his glasses.

Anderson flung his hands up over his eyes and collapsed, playfully howling, "My eyes! Ye took my eyes!"

This sent the children into fits of giggles, and he grinned, snatching back his glasses. He was on his feet and running towards the goal with the ball before they realized what had just happened. They played until dinner. Afterwards Anderson helped the nuns put the littlest ones to bed then read to the older children until it was time to put them to bed as well.

He tucked in each child, and at each request, checked under beds and in closets for monsters, saying a prayer for the more frightened of the children. The lights were turned out at last, and he sought out his own bed, falling into it with a sigh. His last sight was of the full moon in the sky before sleep claimed him.

End Note: Anderson gets some answers, and we see part of his day at the orphanage. Please review.