The Seldom Seen

AN: Lookie! Another chapter! This one's posted early thanks to Archer8's review.
This is actually what was going to be the original chapter one. But I moved it down in line because the ending wasn't done. Until now. I looked it over, and it seems right to me, but I haven't gotten much sleep the past few days, so forgive me if the ending seems a bit off. :[
I've got another story I might finish the first three chapters of to post as a stand-alone piece befre working on the sequel as my muse allows.
Or I'll just write more scenelets for this. XD

Thanks for reading! And remember - reviews make my day. ;)

05: Bad Dreams

Seras jerks awake, head slamming into the lid of her coffin-bed painfully. Biting back the pained whimper, she shivers, her wide eyes flickering between blue and red in a tumult of chaos, even daring to glow purple for mere instances as she presses the button to raise the lid and slips free of the confinement the instant there is enough room. Hissing slightly at the feeling of the air still charged by sunlight even down in the depths of the earth, the girl wraps her arms around her waist in an attempt to stave off further shivering. Padding quickly down the barren hallway, she hesitates and stops at the door to her Master's chambers. She couldn't remember the number of times she'd spent sleeping at his door, too frightened of displeasing him by intruding into his rooms unwanted; but needing the strangely comforting terror of his presence, even through solid wood and stone.

Dancing from foot to foot anxiously, the blonde ducks her head and shivers harder, pale body wracked by tremors as dainty fangs dig into her lower lip – careful not to puncture flesh – thinking that, perhaps, maybe, this one time he wouldn't mind. Being at his door wasn't enough to banish the darkness from her mind this pre-night.

Flicking her gaze from side to side nervously, Seras Victoria debates what to do; creep in unannounced, and possibly unwanted, like a mouse… or knock and hope he answers. Deciding not to test her luck with the former, her trembling hand reaches up and out to tap so quietly upon the door that any creature other than her Master would have missed it.

The lock clicked and the door swung outward silently, only just enough to permit her entrance if she slid her back along the doorjamb and tucked her arms at her sides instead of wrapped around her torso. Inching her way through the gap cautiously, the solid wood nudges her gently inside as it closes softly, but firmly, behind her. Feeling especially skittish, she jumps and jerks her head up to stare with wide, haunted eyes into the dark and empty hall; focusing instantly on the red blur in the distance.

"What is it, Police Girl? It's still early." Alucard's deep baritone rumbles in reprimand, startling and soothing at the same time as making the girl cringe back against the barrier preventing her escape.

"I… I… Did I wake you, Master?" She stammers, whispering fearfully and clutching herself tighter to steel her nerves. Oh, if she woke him… if she made him mad… She hated to displease him.

Ignoring her question, Alucard taps his fingers on his upraised knee, "What do you want, Police Girl? It's not often you enter my quarters." There was a hint of something in his voice, a note of mockery, that told her he knew of her countless sojourns to his door that ended there, never daring to knock until now.

Hanging her head to stare at her bare toes, Seras chokes back a whimper. He was mad at her, wasn't he? "I… I… I…" swallowing thickly, bracing herself for his scorn and dismissal, "I wanted to see you, Master." Flicking her gaze up hopefully, she withers under his unblinking stare. Half heard whispers berated her harshly, phantom images playing across her minds eye of him sneering in disgust at her weakness and banishing her for coming to see him to ward off the shadows that unrestful dreams cast over her fragile form.

Saying nothing, Alucard silently patted his knee once with the gloved hand resting upon it. Seras' eyes widened before she practically bolted across the enormous room to reach the comfort of her Sire's close proximity. Stopping just within arms reach, she glances at him in trepidation before slipping to her knees and shuffling forward to curl herself around the leg resting on the floor, wrapping an arm around the back of his calf, her shivering finally calms as she rests her cheek against the rough material of his pants over his knee. Scooting closer, practically conjoining herself with his limb, she closes her eyes and allows herself to relax fully since waking alone in her coffin-bed. Without a word, the comforting weight of his gloved hand settles across the top of her head, fingers idly playing with strands of sun bright hair as a clink sounds from the ancient vampire setting his wine glass down on the end table on his right. Time passes unnoticed by the fledgling as she drifts into a half sleep, lulled by the silence that fills her mind in her Master's presence.

Alucard exhaled a silent sigh as he gazed down at the resting form of his only surviving Childe. It was times like this, her most vulnerable and needy moments, when he felt himself willing to be patient with her. She was still a child in every sense of the word, no matter how developed her body may seem to the admiring eye.

And what does a child do when it has bad dreams? It crawls into bed with its parents to pretend everything was fine and that there were no monsters under the bed. Like Seras, he had lost track of the number of times he had opened his door after she had fallen asleep on the floor outside of it to carry her back to her coffin and pet the hair away from her face before leaving.

While he could be unbelievably cruel, heartless, murderous and full on insane at the drop of a hat in his lust for blood, and battle, and the glory of death; even monsters treated their kin different from their prey. Not that any of the mortal elements of Hellsing need be privy to this information. No, this indulgence was for his occasionally fragile childe and her alone.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he hums quietly to himself in thought. Oh, he knew what she dreamed, what she feared above all else; how could he not when her mind was an open book for his perusal? He was hard on her in the public eye, berating her for not drinking the blood, for making beginner's mistakes, and she took it to heart. Her greatest fear that sent her running to his door in the late hours of the afternoon in a cold sweat was that he would grow tired of her disappointing him and he would abandon her. He, the last family she had, would leave her alone again, just like the mortals she used to be one of. Not that his little Police Girl showed this vulnerable side to just anyone, no, she was brave in her own way and followed him into the darkness despite her fear.

Perhaps he would allow her to stay when she awoke, to cling to him so until she felt assured he wouldn't rid himself of her needlessly.

With a flick of his wrist, a favorite book of his floated from the hidden shelves and landed in his open palm, pages turning slowly by themselves as he finished their contests; free hand never leaving the gentle warmth of his childe's scalp.

The immortal truly had no need to consciously keep track of the flow of time, as the Hellsings had long ago set a routine for him to follow like an obedient dog. Walter arrived at his chamber door promptly at eight-on-the-dot with a bottle of blood wine nestled firmly in a bucket of ice. Giving a cursory knock as a sham of pleasantry, the butler enters and gives a half bow as he approaches the No-Life King on his throne. Setting the chilled bucket on the lower shelf of the end table, he straightens and adjusts his monocle with a gleam in the eerie blue light flickering in the sconces on the walls – lit only upon his presence at the door – and opens his mouth to report the evenings' plans when he does a double take – blinks twice – and cants his head slightly to one side as he takes note of the slumbering blonde curled up at her master's feet. A faint smile curls his lips as he retrieves a blood pack from an inner pocket of his vest and rests it calmly upon Alucard's ice bucket, turning to leave without a word.

Walter C. Dolneaz knew when to keep a secret, after all.

Seras drifted slowly back to consciousness as the warm sweet smell of blood filled her senses with a tingling need. Mumbling half words under her breath, the fledgling curls her body closer around her pillow, nuzzling her cheek deeper into the strangely rough texture.

'That's odd…'

Banishing the thought with a muffled grunt, her arms tighten around the pillow as her blood-scent drunk mind cajoles her into nuzzling the rough cloth more, it felt good.

A rumbling chuckle filled her ears pleasantly as something warm and smooth was pressed to her lips. Biting instinctively, she jerks slightly at the filmy tang of plastic upon her tongue, before whimpering as the copper thrill of blood explodes deliciously – albeit a bit stale – across her pallet. Suckling greedily, she gives a faint cry of dismay when the bag is emptied.

"Poor little Police Girl," the voice crooned, a warm hand settling atop her head and ruffling her hair, "did you want more?"

There was something sinful in that voice, darkly seductive that pulled at her glazed mind. Ignoring the tugs of consciousness, happy in her little pocket of half awareness, she mewls and arches into the hand in agreement.

The hand retreats for a moment and reappears around her waist to tug her up from the floor and curl her pliant form across what felt like a rather stiff chair. Wriggling to get comfortable, she stills quiescently at the warning vibration of a soft growl. A chuckle followed suit and something cold and round pressed into her bottom lip. Cracking her left eye partially open, she stares at the half full wineglass and the white gloved hand supporting it. 'Master…'

Allowing her eyelid to drift back down, cocooning herself in the blessedly blank world of darkness, her lips part obediently and she shivers as chilled blood crawls down her throat in a syrupy trail.

A warm hand patted her head approvingly and she purred, leaning into the touch once the glass was emptied.

"As amusing as this is, Police Girl, too much of a good thing gets boring." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice, "so why don't you crawl out of that little mental closet and come play with the big kids, hm?"

A strange echo twisted and curled inside her head, seeking out that hidden door where the real Seras Victoria lay sleeping. One... Two... Three... A sharp note of command throbbed in her skull and she flinched, lids flying open as she was yanked into awareness by the will of her Master.

Reigning in her urge to scream out of deference to his sensitive hearing – and he'd more than likely dump her from his lap in retaliation – she stares wide eyed at her Sire in mute disbelief.

How did she..?

Flicking her gaze from side to side nervously, snippets of memory float to the forefront of her minds eye, revealing her pitiful state after one of her … dreams.

"Master." Sera mumbled, turning her blue eyes down to her hands in her lap, and taking note of her position on his.

"Seras," Alucard answered back, watching her intently.

"I… had a bad dream." She confessed as an explanation for her behavior earlier.

"I'm aware."

Shocked, her gaze flies up to meet his; taking in the mixture of patience, amusement, and affection in his crimson depths.

"…Oh."

Slumping forward to hide her face against his chest, the fledgling discreetly takes a deep breath of his scent. Blood, earth, pine, and a lingering wisp of gunpowder.

The hand returns to her hair, petting idly as the girl relaxes.

"Master? You won't leave me, will you?" She whispers, refusing to look at her Sire.

He paused in his petting, and she tensed, before he chuckled quietly, "No, fledgling. Though the day will come when you leave me. I am bound to this bloodline and this land, now, and far too powerful to fade and die. I will be your only constant in this world, Seras."

Soothed beyond measure by his words, Seras drapes herself more comfortably against her progenitor; unwilling to leave his presence just yet.

"I'm glad."