AN: Hello! Sorry for taking forever (again) to upload, and thanks for sticking around! I go into more detail on why I've been a slug to update this story in a Tumblr post (I go by "sariaminoras"); I decided against copy-pasting it here because it would've taken a whole page, but the post is easy enough to find, if you're curious (it's titled "Dragons Chapter 5 and the Slug Race"). I also go into detail about the chapter itself in the post, but I'll talk a little about it here in the end notes as well.
As usual, this is not beta-read, and, if there are mistakes… I'll prolly only notice them many days from now.
Oh, yeah, I learned how to insert lines. :D Aaand, I hope you enjoy this (the chapter, not the lines).
EDIT: First mistake I noticed; the lines don't show up in :')
Edit 2: Renamed this chapter to 6.
#
Chapter 6
Integra let out a sigh the moment Walter closed the door behind him and stepped towards her desk.
The butler faced her charge with his usual demeanor, but the director was perceptive enough to understand the actual message behind his wrinkles.
Weariness. A little bit of frustration, too.
Two weeks ago, or it might've been three, a private meeting between Integra and Alucard planted a new seed of concern in the Hellsing heir's heart. Never, in all the years she commanded the organization, had the vampire lord requested to be sent away from her presence.
Integra kept swallowing that spiky, insistent, burning knot for a few days; the count was her responsibility, and the more intimate nature of the situation had dissuaded her from asking for help. Eventually, the constant sickness and headaches became too distracting, coinciding with the exponential growth of her restlessness, and she felt compelled to seek her butler's insight.
Walter listened to her embarrassed report (Integra made it too formal to be regular venting at first) with a mixture of affection and amusement. This had not been the first time, and it would not be the last, her charge would run after him with a vampiric problem. The hunter had never been reluctant to help her in this or any other field she might require his assistance with, but he had to admit these last few weeks had been rather mentally taxing.
"It upsets me to bring you this news, princess," he shut his eyes for a few seconds, "but I sincerely cannot think of a less inadequate solution."
Integra failed to hold back a grunt, but the very discreet movement of touching her stomach made the butler wonder if she was disappointed or simply pained, as her doctor had alerted in a previous appointment.
It could have been due to either, but none of the options were exactly appeasing. Taking into account everything that has happened, luck (or its absence, really) dictated it was probably both.
"Why can't they be honest with me? Is that too much to ask?"
"Absolutely not, princess, but the officer has not completely abandoned her humanity, and Alucard…"
There was no need to finish the sentence, and it lingered for a bit in the silence that took over the room. A bird flying outside made the diminishing sunlight dance through the window, and Walter contemplated the shadows highlighting Integra's disappointed look. He could feel new silver trends growing in the midst of his own ebony mane. The resident vampires had barely talked to each other following the incident, and during the short moments they shared any space, the atmosphere became charged with a strange discomfort, worsened when Pip was around.
The progressive distancing between the two weighed on everyone else. Integra had always been a woman of results and definite solutions, yet, there didn't seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. It wasn't that far-fetched to imagine a recurrence of the training field event in the near future, a possibility that had been nibbling at the edges of Integra's mind for days, each consecutive bite bleeding more than its predecessor.
Walter had already witnessed the consequences of actions taken by powerful leaders moved by fear; he did not want to see his princess following that same path.
"I don't want to… take any drastic measure, Walter," Integra voiced his thoughts, turning to open a drawer. "I don't want to be like my father. I don't want to be Abraham."
The butler nodded in genuine understanding. Integra had been the head of the organization for nearly a decade now; he had grown used to her concerns, so different from those who came before her.
"I agree, miss. I believe locking him up will make Alucard even more upset," he scratched his chin, even though there had been no physical itch.
The sounds of sheets of paper and a variety of small objects rustling about finally silenced when Integra closed the small drawer, bringing back, triumphant and relieved, a package of painkillers. She swallowed a pill quickly, a half-full glass of water following its trajectory, and avoided smiling at her butler; Alucard's psychological well-being had never really been a matter of consideration, until the day she took over.
"He refused me, Walter," the glass smothered her sigh upon clashing back with the wooden desk. "He seemed bothered when I told him Seras had already convinced me to stay."
The dejection in his charge's eyes did not feel as disheartening as the first time he saw it. Following the whole training field hassle, every time the two of them met, the director retold the experience, not with the exact same words, but always annoyed, in a way or another. Every consecutive time, the admission became less uncomfortable for her to voice, but the sentiment never really left. He knew for a fact that this lack of knowledge and control over her vampires' behavior had not stopped bothering her, but it seemed Integra was also experiencing a little bit of heartbreak.
That thought almost made Walter's old, cynical heart shiver with affection, had his head not reminded him Alucard was a century-old monster and Integra his surrogate daughter he helped raise since forever.
"I will make another search through the archives, miss," he tried for a small smile, knowing it wouldn't really be effective in soothing her, "but… I do not think it will be very productive."
"Anything is better than nothing," she replied, with a defeated, sarcastic smirk of her own.
"If I may," Walter straightened his back and put his hands behind him. Perhaps, this would be the right time to bring up his innocent theory. "I believe this to be a pure emotional reaction on Alucard's part. He has never been good at sharing his, uhm…" The word 'belongings' almost hung at the tip of his tongue, being fortunately swallowed back. "... precious people."
The director raised an eyebrow. That reasoning did not make a lot of sense, not with this. Yes, Alucard was selfish, but he had been the one to bring Seras in. He was her maker and the draculina was his spiritual progeny. Even aloof, he had always been excited with her development as a creature of the night.
More importantly, Seras had not done anything out of the ordinary for her. She had been affectionate and cheerful, like always. Her disposition and behavior were predictable enough.
"Perhaps," she allowed her body to lie back against the chair, rubbing her stomach again. If only these medications had an instantaneous effect. "Regardless, the seals… the seals are still useful."
The sentence was cut off by a scratch of her throat, and the words came out weak and shaky. It might be that they perfectly encapsulated her current feelings towards her blind trust in Alucard, that trust having been the primary tool she had employed in their work and relationship for a long time now. The seals had been, essentially, retired, their need no longer necessary.
Walter was not head of the organization or the warlord's partner, but Integra's hurt with that particular issue was palpable enough that even he could feel it.
"I am positive we will not get to that point, miss," his smile returned with a little more conviction. It was not exactly bright, but it seemed truthful, and her eyes lingered on his frame with a bit of longing. "This is merely a stone in the shoe; we have overcome far worse."
Integra returned his confidence with a short nod and a sigh; soon, this would all be over.
#
The quietude of the night made way for a wave of timid giggles and sighs, the sounds successfully reaching every nook and cranny of the cold chamber.
Alucard held, in each hand, a small piece of glossy, photographic paper, his excited eyes leaping from one to the other with the curiosity of a kitten. The newest ultrasound scan Integra brought back from her latest appointment tickled his dark, somber essence, accommodating the memories in his mind for a more pleasurable experience.
Not too long ago, the count had been involved in strange and unfortunate encounters with both his vampiric childe and his countess, but the embarrassing and disappointing feelings attached to them were, currently, pushed to the very depths of his thoughts, subjugated by the bliss those two little fragments of artificial matter so easily evoked.
"Amelia is happy," Integra had said, whilst handing the newest exam over to him. "The baby is bigger and appears to be healthy."
Recalling her words further grew his delight, and he repositioned himself in his throne, once more bending his back and resting each elbow on a knee. The ebony locks of his hair swayed to accompany the movement, and to reveal a shiny smile in his face, previously contorted into a frown of sorrow and tribulations.
Not at the moment, no. There were no spaces available for the frustration in regards to his own behavior, or the distress at not understanding how his own mind worked. His entire being was focused on a warm yet suffocating emotion he desperately wanted to believe he felt before, at least once, when he was alive and a real human. With it, there was an exponential anxiety at seeing that little sphere of mass, visible only through a photograph, finally materialize, in a shape closer to that of a person.
For the briefest of seconds, Alucard wondered if that was how future parents felt, and could not deny that the feeling was both intriguing and asphyxiating. It could not be the kind of thing someone just… got over.
Incapable of resisting that itch, his thumb ran across the edges of the picture, delicately, a movement so smooth the material barely registered any contact. The action was repeated with greater gentleness in the older photo, which had suffered from time and accidental squeezes. The vampire giggled and pushed himself back on the imponent chair, relaxing his posture, wondering for the hundredth time, what his son will be like.
hAHa… lET us HOpe it IS NOT a MoNStEr aS WeLL!…
The count blinked a couple of times and his grin slowly began melting away. His eyes quickly scanned the chamber upon recognizing his own voice, low and weak, whispering through his bookstand, the corners of the room, and from inside his coffin. hAHAHaAa-HAAhaAHAa-
His gaze stopped to fixate on the heavy metallic door that opened to the neighboring accommodations of this territory and he waited a few seconds, completely still. The voice then repeated itself, ending its speech looping a mONstER, MOnsTeR…, turned into a barely audible mutter, and finally, silence.
The scorching flame that a few minutes ago burned the pit that once housed his heart diminished into a tiny ember, pushed around by a cold apprehension that tried to seize control. Again. The same way it had been corrupting his dreams into nightmares for as long as he'd bargained his soul.
Once, he tried nicknaming each and every one of his demons, but remembering the minute details of how he had dealt with his victims, and how he had been a victim himself, already occupied too much space in his mind.
A few seconds passed and the vampire snickered to no one, pushing those thoughts away. Perhaps he had ridden himself of his humanity decades ago, but he was sure it was perfectly normal to worry. In theory, he was not becoming a father for the first time, but his vampiric status did change that, somewhat; his memories of his time as a human, as well as several of the mental constructs he had developed back then, had all but been nearly erased upon his spiritual decay.
Any person would be apprehensive and demand nothing short of perfection when it came to their offspring.
aNY NOrmAL pERSoN! PaREnt MONsteRs do NOt EXisT!
The volume of his voice was not loud enough to be considered shouting, but it was indeed quite a few decibels higher than the previous message. mONsTeR, MONsTer… The grunt that escaped his lips was accompanied by an involuntary clench of his fists, but the action was quickly aborted to avoid further damaging the pictures of his son. He didn't need too much light to see them, but he did notice his chamber becoming progressively darker.
Alucard squeezed his eyes for a few seconds, an innocuous tick to regain focus in an attempt to fuel that flame of pride that struggled to keep him alight.
pRIdE! hAH! seRAs IS a tHReAT ANd wILl be BeTTeR foR tHE cHIld!
It's a stroke of good luck that prevented Alucard's throne from toppling back, somehow resisting the abrupt force the vampire exerted to sit up. His own voice, loud and bitter, accompanied by others, very familiar nobodies, reverberated through the cold walls of his chamber. tHREat, THreAT-
A hiss emanated from the grinding of his teeth, and with heavy, perturbed steps, Alucard advanced towards his bookshelf, one of the first presents Integra had gifted him when she became leader of the organization. At the time, she had glared at him, with all the seriousness and ferocity of a 14-year-old adolescent who had only recently experienced near death, and had assured him she would never trust a vampire who spent his confinement bored, with nothing to occupy his head.
Confused with her declaration, Alucard had laughed at her, but became intrigued with this… novel approach of the new directorship. Following the bookshelf, new surprises emerged, one after the other: renovations of his chambers, a television, books of different themes and genres, personal belongings that she would've discarded if he hadn't asked her if he could keep them.
Integra cared for his well-being, pure and simply; perhaps, out of kindness, and eventually, affection, she did worry about her vampire.
aND YOu wiLL rePAy thAT WIth PAIn anD deCEPtiOn! yOU THoughT Of HeR DeATH!
"Silence!"
His piercing scream engulfed the room into complete stasis, as if swallowed by a phantasmagorical void. Still, silent, unnoticeable. The growing darkness, however, was not deterred, and the encroaching crepuscule pinched at his stability. A strange discomfort, seeing as he had, for many years, made obscurity his home. Alucard took a deep breath, an unnecessary, albeit unintentional reaction; his fangs could barely shine through curled lips, and he eventually moved his eyes to look around.
His brows furrowed, as crimson orbs scanned the perimeter, as quietly as the still air filling it. Nothing seemed out of place, and with a discreet tremor of his hands, Alucard rested the pictures of his son on a small table, next to the bookshelf.
A small bait for his tortuous mind. A treasure to not be corrupted.
For a few moments, everything stayed as it was. With his inner thoughts as empty as his cell, his features nonchalantly relaxed. Devoid of any haste, he began walking backwards, calculating the force of his steps to prevent any sort of noise, although he couldn't reason why the precaution was necessary. When the lights were dim, he stopped.
And waited.
A bit longer.
Apprehension sprung up. The quietude felt unnatural and bothered him. His incredible hearing allowed him to notice the subtlest of sounds: the contact between his boot and the ground as he lightly shifted, the swing of his curls as he barely twitched, the very discreet spasms of his extremities.
Beyond that, nothing. No creaking of doors, no conversation murmurs, no shaking of equipment being moved from one place to the other. Further from the limits of his chamber, there was a titanic, oppressive hollow. The shiver that rushed through his spine was inevitable; it was as if the world didn't exist anymore.
As if he had been abandoned.
oF COursE tHEy aBAnDoNED yOU! yOu ArE a DANgeR to THe BAby!
The multiple voices resonated loud and deafening, as dolorous as a scalding stake puncturing the guts, and Alucard leaped back, an animal caught by surprise by his own shadow. He twisted his body, something heavy hammering deep within his core, and took a mouthful of air. The voices repeated themselves, dANGeR, DAngEr, and, amidst the thundering echoes of the darkness, he answered, with a completely fabricated audacity.
"Quiet!"
yOu ArE dISpoSAbLE!
Instincts overpowering him, his hand rushed to his belt, from which he withdrew a pistol, and immediately pointed it forward. The quiver in his hold was noticeable and constant, and the shadows were so thick that the shine of the metal couldn't break through.
The voices circled around in a cacophonous loop, repeating previous manifestations one over the other, in different tones, timbres and volumes, but always aggressive and mocking. DIspOSaBlE, dANgEr, dECEptIoN, dEAth. A reverberating laughter emerged in the background, but it didn't muffle any expletives. The weight that insisted on battering his chest quickened its rhythm, forcing his ribcage up and down. Alucard spun on his heels, pointing his pistol at random directions, his index finger ready to pull the trigger.
sHOot, THen! ACcePt yOUr NAturE, MOnsTer! LEAve ThE cHIld, sO it WILl nOT sUFFer!
"No…" His voice was a hesitant whisper amongst the resonant screams, and it came out as feeble and tremulous as his legs felt. His last meeting with Integra to discuss a mission resurfaced through the chaos of his mind, as well as the memory of each participant present. Warm bodies, beating hearts, humane, peaceful essences. All so different from him. "Quiet…!"
yOu HuRT hEr BEFore! WE Saw HEr BLeed BY YouR HANd! YoU wILL dO it AGaIN!
"QUIET!"
The demand was useless, as it had been since the beginning, the voices registering it as nothing but an embarrassed request. Alucard's teeth grinded against the image of Integra's body, a scar he hadn't been able to process as a fabrication to this day. Something wet began running from his eyes down to his chin, and his finger failed; the pistol suddenly weighed too much and his wrist gave in, allowing it to fall to the ground. The clash of the impact echoed through the walls, instigating a new wave of cruel, otherworldly cackling.
wEaK! THat iS wHY shE wILL nEVer aCKNowlEDgE yOu as A FAtheR! fOReVer a SERvanT!
Rage began melting as the frustration towards his own instability grew. His legs uncooperative, Alucard growled and squeezed his eyes shut, his fists balling up till the tiny articulations cracked, incapable of silencing his demons. Instigated, the voices recruited helpers, dozens of them, sERvaNT, mONsTeR, WEak. The onslaught felt as hard as physical whipping and Alucard bent over, trying to mitigate an awkward, uncomfortable sensation pulsating deep in his stomach.
Something thrashed from the inside wanting out, something that sent him back decades ago, back to Abraham's irate, tyrannical caricature, nonetheless victorious, spitting curses and transforming the vampire forever, irreversibly. His new condition now permanent, confined to the depths, and never to ascend.
The oppressive force at last came out. The final stage of grief properly expressing itself, for the second time in his no-life.
aCCEpt YouR NAtUrE aND waLK aWAy! iT wILL bE BETter fOr-
Excruciating pain cut through his thoughts and the voices were immediately silenced. As leisurely as it had manifested, the darkness retracted and, in a few moments, his cell went back to its original level of luminance. There was a muffled set of murmurs outside, an appeasing mixture of sounds that indicated activity throughout the manor, some levels above his chambers.
With the external perception of life knocking on his senses, Alucard finally opened his eyes, but they remained slightly unfocused. His spine complaining about discomfort made him realize his posture was still curved; a hard surface against his bones indicated he was also kneeling.
It took him a few seconds of delicate struggle and he eventually succeeded in opening his hands, bones popping with each dragging, consecutive stretch. His vertebrae failed to reorganize his axis, some kind of force making straightening impossible. It was at that moment that his gaze unblurred and he noticed a small pool of blood around his legs.
Red orbs dutifully followed the liquid trail and in half a second he arrived at his left thigh, where his fangs crunched without much concern.
Although empty despite its inexplicable weight, his head was capable of conjuring a modicum of rationale to rid himself of the annoying, burning pressure he now noticed was assaulting his lower limb. With enough effort, he managed to dislocate his jaw so his mouth would open. Now free of his bloody teeth, his mangled muscle quickly triggered a self-healing process.
There was no real need for waiting and Alucard stood up slowly, but without difficulty. The exhaustion, despite being non-physical, was undeniable. There was also another feeling, heavy, suffocating, intent on taking over control, something that was needless to name, for it was old and familiar to him. The vampire limped for a few seconds during his short travel back to his throne, whilst his leg rebuilt itself.
At last he sat, allowing the weight of his body to settle, and his gaze landed on the small table ahead, where he left the ultrasound scans of his son. It was a short, walking distance towards them, but they felt far away. Unreachable, unretrievable, as they should be. A non-verbal communication was immediately established between them, and when an ancient, well-known voice whispered from the back of his mind, reminding him of his past, of his present, and alerting him to his immutable future, Alucard finally understood and accepted, nodding to nobody, and gulped.
The back of his hand also made quick work of his wet cheeks.
#
The brisk current blowing from the north penetrated through sleeves, bottoms and every available opening in their uniforms. The training officers, stretching and skipping about, shivered uncomfortably, as the session had only recently begun, their bodies still in the process of warming up to make up for the cold. The wind, however, was but merely a whisper to the vampire, perched many meters ahead. The extension of roofing right under the window that faced the back gardens captured a lot of the air flow this time of the day, and it had never been a truly sought out place to spend one's day.
Yet, there sat Alucard. Silent and still, he could easily pass for a gargoyle if the breeze didn't occasionally caress his ebony curls every so often. His dark garments helped in obfuscating the sight of him, the camouflage enhanced by the early evening, but what truly helped him pass unnoticed by the officers below were his pure lack of engagement. Towards anything.
Rather than following them with somewhat contained amusement, a game he liked to play to rile up the organization's employees, his dulled, tired eyes were focused on nowhere, beyond the horizon, and so far away from everything he held dear. His usually shiny grin hid behind a small frown, until his features slowly shifted, contorting into morose, weary neutrality.
Half of his mind kept being whispered to, scolded, pushed to go through the impossible task of solving everything, urgently, desperately. The other half had simply given up and drifted away, feelings and thoughts largely at bay.
Seras didn't notice her master's invisible turmoils when she crossed the corridor, and, by complete chance, looked through the door, then the window, and then, finally, landed her gaze, renewed and alarmed, at the count's back.
The officer stopped in her tracks, deciding what to do. An annoying shiver manifested all over her body, and she fidgeted. A while ago, and according to her less instinctual memory, Alucard and her had a bit of a misunderstanding at the training field. When she put that part of her brain to sleep, shortly before Seras herself drifted off, something told her her master's apology had been, at the very best, feeble. As much as she tried squashing any sort of improper consideration, that anemic reparation brought an unwelcome distrust when the subsequent interactions between the two never felt quite normal again.
Walking on eggshells around Alucard was not anything new for Seras, but that was mostly due to her own shyness and embarrassment towards him, and never really due to excess sensitivities on his part. In fact, even imagining her master being sensitive with anything, with the exception perhaps of Integra, would make anyone laugh. The time she had spent in the organization and under training created a stable dynamic between the two vampires, a functional, debatably secure balance between the count's insolence and the draculina's bashfulness.
Not anymore. That strange harmony had been tampered with, burning glass shards had been scattered about, forcing Seras to retreat and take a safe distance that hadn't been necessary in a very long time. The chaotic weather changes that were their relationship had become a perpetual dark cloud that not only weighed heavily on the officer's conscience, but also seemed to conceal her master's true thoughts, spreading to cloak the sun for everybody else, too.
She looked ahead at the sky outside and pretended to not notice the storm rolling in.
Instead, she took a deep breath, swearing at once again manifesting an unnecessary human habit, and diverted her eyes to focus on her master's long, somewhat disheveled curls, he himself still immobile, apparently unaware of her presence. An unrealistic expectation, of course. She shifted a little bit to the side and raised her chin in a childish attempt to look, some meters away, over his shoulders, trying to see if he had his son's pictures in his possession.
Rather than a shiver, an uncomfortable heat built up, some kind of gross, putrid concoction that gurgled from the deep of her stomach all the way up to her throat. Nothing came out, except for a restrained growl, and her lips curled in a snarl. It would be really… funny to snatch up the photos, rip them right out of his hands, squeeze them a little bit, and then cut them up to the smallest pieces she could artistically envision.
It would be even funnier if she did it right in front of him. Bonus points if Integra was also there to watch.
"... what?!..."
Her fangs retreated and that poisonous lava began melting away, leaving behind a sour smoke, not in her guts, but deep within her thoughts. A shaky hand made its way towards her chest, gripping the fabric of her uniform with uncertainty, as a familiar, cold pressure again crowded her heart.
She stopped counting, after a while. Only a few instances really marked her memory. The first time had been when she went to personally congratulate her master, upon hearing news of the pregnancy. Some time later, following the unfortunate field incident, when she had a talk with Pip. After that, occurrences seemed to be random and sporadic, often ephemeral, but progressively more frequent as Alucard pulled back and Integra's belly grew.
Every time, Seras asked herself why. Every time, fury was followed by remorseful, abashed nausea. Every time, she failed to find a reason. And every time, Seras became more preoccupied with her master's obsession; maybe his distancing too, and how she was incapable. Not of anything in particular, but just, in general.
That was why he had been acting so strange. That was why he had eyes for no one else.
That was why he wanted to replace her.
Seras inhaled slowly, forgetting to punish herself for the humanly blunder, a particular habit that came about when she was feeling anxious, or antsy, or alienated, or all three of them at the same time. She then straightened her back like an infantryman, certain in her decision to help him out, in any way. The moment she began taking steps towards the window, however, her legs decided to betray her conviction and shook, obviously on purpose, to try and sabotage her very well-intended objective.
She stopped at the window's ledge, deciding against venturing onto the roof, not out of fear, but simply out of respect for her master's boundaries. She scratched her throat with some difficulty, not to give her time to change her mind and turn around, but merely to draw his attention.
"... Master…? Is… Is e-everything alright?" She finally asked, dopey and confused, not to force him to turn his body so she could satiate a self-destructive curiosity, but purely because she worried about him. Do you need any help, however, never left her tongue.
For the briefest of moments, nothing seemed to change. A surprising, or maybe not really, sense of relief took over the draculina, yet she avoided sighing, because she was absolutely not apprehensive. Why would she be, when addressing her vampiric father? Maybe he hadn't heard her, but that was okay, she would find plenty of opportunities for them to talk, so…
The rigid, but clearly active motion of Alucard slowly twisting his spine backwards to face her aborted a drive that only superficially appeared to be an attempt of escape. The draculina squared her shoulders and held the knot in her throat that really needed to be swallowed, whilst her eyes focused on the impassive, inexpressive face of her master.
He didn't bother turning completely, and only glared at her with a side glance, one of his arms resting on the roof so the position wouldn't be too uncomfortable. Despite his reaction, Seras felt illiterate. It was impossible for her to say what was going on with Alucard during the brief moments her gaze remained in his features; the rest of the time, her eyes decided to play a game of ping-pong, focusing on the surroundings and leaping from one object to the other as if they were in the finals of a world championship, roof-Alucard-wall-sky-Alucard-ground-sky-wall-ground-Alucard-ground-Alucard-Alucard-ground…
Her legs were wobbly and her body burned. Alucard's brows furrowed so discreetly that the officer would've missed his disappointment, if his lips hadn't turned in tandem, a slow, macabre dance. It might've been the breeze outside that triggered another instinctual, living response, but Seras desperately needed to breathe. Her lungs didn't answer.
More urgently than that, Seras needed to get away. Her body didn't answer. Hundreds of years of agony and a massive weight on her shoulders seemed to have passed.
Only Alucard answered.
"Yes," he lied, not going through the trouble of faking it. "You may go."
That grotesque, rotten volcano, not long ago dissipated, bubbled up again, in a continuous crescendo. The count repositioned himself to fixate ahead, towards a direction perfectly opposite hers, and ignore her completely. Her ears captured 'you may go', but, it turned out Seras was not as ignorant as she thought, and her mind was quick to correct the phrase to its true meaning, 'go away'.
After a curt nod, the draculina allowed the volcano to erupt, swearing in her mind for missing the opportunity to check if he indeed had the damn pictures or not, turned on her heels, and walked away, leaving her master be, to his own devices.
Maybe he would lose his balance.
Maybe she would laugh a little at that.
And maybe she ought to have stomped the ground with a little less force, as she went back to her chambers. Maybe she could've been a little less brute, when she slammed the metal door open with a kick. Maybe the irritating bang would've drawn someone's attention, but that didn't matter, because maybe she should've sought another way to vent that didn't involve squeezing the barrel of her rifle with such vigor that it left grotesque indentations in the material.
It was useless now, and there was only one recourse for a useless weapon. Accordingly, Seras grabbed the deformed shotgun and smashed it against the wall. The pitiful thing dismantled into several pieces that flew through the air, and the remaining shell was unceremoniously tossed to the other cold, empty corner of the chamber the draculina nicknamed "bedroom". A tiny voice kicked and punched to make space amongst her outrage and whispered that this wasn't right, that Integra and Walter would be upset, but Seras was in desperate need to break something.
Her breathing heavy and sped up, damned to all hell if it made her "too human" or not, she swiftly dodged around her tiny territory, grabbing a spare rifle from her personal arsenal, and hurried towards the training field, her bright eyes leaving behind a red, shiny trail of nothing but fleeting light.
#
"Nice shot, mon cher."
The rifle's barrel made a smooth curve to aim at the ground, as Seras relaxed her arm. Pip's voice was soft and affectionate, and it spread through the field with ease, floating above targets popped with bullets, some still smoldering. The officer sighed, giving herself some time, allowing the remains of her frustration to dissipate. What was left was a strange mixture of anguish and relief: taking it out on artificial matter helped assuage some of the tension, but it was still a far cry from resolving anything. She'd be lying through her teeth if she said she was okay, and Seras was no liar.
Well, not until somewhat recently.
With the enthusiasm of a child who knows they're about to get scolded, the draculina turned towards her companion, holding back a knot of shame at the evidence of her wreckage. She managed a small smile, but it concealed her discomfort so poorly the grin itself was embarrassing. Pip pretended not to notice but his face was not very good at deceiving either, and his ever-present smirk immediately turned upside down. He wasn't caught by surprise, though; nobody destroyed so many combat resources when they were happy. Not anyone sane, at least.
"Thank you, captain."
"You are pretty strong, but you don't have to be so selfish," the Frenchman winked. "Leave a bit of fun for your friends."
Seras couldn't contain her giggle, but as quickly as it bloomed, it wilted. Pip noticed the crestfallen glow of her usually joyful eyes, and ambled forward, until he stopped a few inches away from her. His body's natural warmth, that coveted heat of the living, brought a bit of peace to her turbulent mind, and for a brief moment she wanted to just let it all go and hug him tight, snuggle up in his arms until the end of her no-life, if it ever came.
"I don't need to ask if you're okay, but," he reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I wouldn't mind if you told me what happened… Or we can just grab some ice cream and enjoy the evening gossiping."
One of those options was very tempting, and the other… was maybe something that she needed.
Pip had half a mind to let go of her when her body shifted a bit, but she merely put her hand on top of his own, keeping it there as her personal safety rope. Even if it was just a lifebuoy ring splashing about, hurling against maddened waves in the middle of a thunderstorm, it was better than drowning. His thick thumb rubbed small circles in her clavicle, and Seras shut her eyes for a moment, savoring the gentle touch. When her eyelids raised and blue orbs focused on the manly, yet tender features in front of her, Seras wanted to cry, but the tears refused to break out.
"It's nothing, captain… It's just…" She sighed, and stared at the ground. "I saw my master a little while ago. That's all."
Pip's lips pursed as he leaned in a little, his fingers accidentally exerting a little more force than necessary on her shoulder. Seras could hardly notice the reflex, with how fast it went by, and how exhausted her head had been feeling for the last… she didn't even know how long anymore. Still, she almost grimaced at how easily Pip could feign he didn't worry that much about her.
"Mhm. And did you two… talk?"
Was it right to define "talk" as a situation where each participant emitted all but one short sentence and communication immediately ceased? Seras thought not, at least not in a fruitful dialogue, but then Integra got pregnant and Alucard began seeing the draculina as an inconvenience, so what did she know?
"Uhm… not exactly. I walked down the corridor and he was sitting on the roof under the window, but…" She shrugged, still keeping his hand captive. Her eyes suddenly squinted, staring at the blades of grass with utmost concentration, and a flicker of inspiration seemed to flash through. Like someone had just lit the fuse of a dynamite stick. "... but I couldn't see if he had the pictures of the baby…"
Pip blinked a few times. Her voice had been like a whisper, but he was almost positively sure he had understood her words. He spared two seconds to think about them, and when he couldn't connect any dots, he scratched his throat, deciding to focus instead on what he deemed truly important.
"I see. So, you didn't really talk?"
Seras looked up to stare at him again, and perhaps it was the glow from a nearby lamp reflecting in her eyes in a rather sinister way, but Pip could swear his draculina seemed a little less morose now.
She seemed bothered. Standing so close to her, he couldn't decide which one was worse.
"We exchanged a few words." Her attention drifted somewhere else, despite her gaze fixated on him. "I don't know why this is happening…"
"What, mon cher?" His words hurried a little to come out, but he couldn't miss the opportunity of helping Seras open up. When she retracted a little, possibly preparing an attempt to escape, Pip loosened his hold and let his hand stroke her arm, a smooth and subtle, comforting cadence.
Seras settled and bit her lower lip, yet that terrifying gleam still lingered in the back of her eyes.
"I mean… my master's been mad at me before, but… never like this."
The half-explanation was enough to quicken his heartbeats. Since the day he joined the organization, he had trouble understanding how the relationship between Seras and Alucard worked. Walter had already told him it was a useless endeavor to expect human reason and feelings from creatures that were human no longer, regardless of how relatable, docile and sociable Seras was. Still, even if weird, whatever it was that they had seemed to work, and the Frenchman often drew parallels with the type of bond between a clumsy daughter and a demanding father, but turned up to… something that wasn't a number.
That didn't mean he had no reservations about it. Especially not now, with recent developments. Especially not now, when the light of the moon shone on Seras' curved lips, creating the most half-hearted smile he had ever seen her give.
"Imagine what's going to be like, after it's born."
The murmur was low, very low, possibly accidental too, but Pip was a trained assassin, and more than heard it, he easily deciphered it. Not that the situation wasn't becoming more and more transparent, but no one would argue it was delicate, and he wasn't well-equipped, emotionally or socially, to deal with it. It wasn't easy to deal with people, let alone a monster and Pip's little, only-sometimes-a-monster lady. His mind wandered, thinking about Walter and Integra, and blaming them for letting things get to this point.
The soft sounds of ground shifting beneath Seras' feet brought the captain back to reality, and, despite his own apprehension, his other hand reached out to land on her other arm, caressing it with all the gentleness he could muster at the time. The last thing Pip wanted was to pressure her, but the officer had a bad habit of defending her master from the Geese's jokes, and it seemed very unfair to her to let her carry such a burden in a sensitive moment.
At the corner of Pip's eye, he was alerted to the fact his draculina still held her rifle. Doing his best to ignore it, as well as her last comment, which was clearly meant to reside nowhere but inside her mind, Pip circled back to what she had willingly shared.
"Did he do something? Did he hurt you?"
His tone had an authoritarian sort of impetus, but in a shape molded from legitimate concern. The question was spiny, however, and Seras fidgeted; there was too much ambiguity in it, considering their recent interactions. Obviously Pip wouldn't elaborate on it to avoid making her more uncomfortable or withdrawn, as it had been happening in the past few weeks, and guilt ate away at her heart, for creating this barrier between them.
"He didn't do anything," she considered a hypothetical scenario of physical violence, for a more honest answer. "I just asked if he was okay, he said yes, and… and I left."
Pip let go of a breath, whilst Seras' gaze returned to the ground. A short, blunt exchange was a thousand times better than an affectionate gesture being rewarded with aggression. The captain would not really complain if the draculina cultivated a more formal and distant relationship with an unstable, unpredictable Alucard, even if it pained her to accept it.
Seras, however, didn't seem to share his preferences, and furrowed her brows.
"That's what he wants, isn't it? Me, out of his way."
That irritating, unrelenting red glow shone bright for a few seconds, and whilst Seras kept her glare down, Pip still caught sight of it. A shiver dashed down his spine, but the evening was darkening, and it was probably just chilly outside. The feeling of rejection was something the Frenchman understood, though, and it stabbed deep into his heart. A natural impetus dictated reassurance that everything would turn out just fine, but Pip wasn't new to the world, and he wouldn't lie to Seras, of all people. Especially not in these matters.
"Mon cher, I have no idea what goes on inside his head, but…" He sighed, applying a little more force to his caresses, still disappointed the gesture couldn't really do much. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you… kept to yourself for a little while, you know?"
His lungs sequestered all of its breath, as Pip waited for surprise or incredulity, but the seconds passed and Seras kept scowling at the ground.
Unblinking.
Unmoving.
The unconscious movement of her chest, gone.
A gentle breeze ruffled his bangs and when a tip poked his eye, Pip swallowed the heavy nothing that clung to the back of his throat. His gaze snapped downwards, but rather than focusing on her, they fell to her index finger, still clutching the trigger.
The digit twitched, faster than a blink, and Pip broke the asphyxiating silence between them, before an accidental shot did it.
"...Seras?"
Cautious, it had been no louder than a soft whisper, and his call might've been lost to the emptiness of the night if his own fingers hadn't transmitted a slight tremor. Those brisk moments where contact had been cut and the warmth on her skin was gone were enough to make Seras blink and raise her head towards him, undoing a grimace and leaving behind some degree of disappointment.
The blood-red glow no longer shone in her eyes, but if Pip, now a little more relaxed, were completely honest, it didn't seem like anything was shining there right now.
She blinked again and he thought he actually saw a fog. A fog that reminded him of the smelly, nasty backstreets of London.
"Yeah… maybe you're right." Her new smile was almost as lame as the last one, and Pip struggled not to cringe. "Thank you, captain. I think I'll go inside."
Pip forced a nod, breaking the contact with his partner, and she dragged her feet back to the manor. The night engulfed the sky, and his vision began complaining about needing more light, but the lamps did a good job marking Seras' sullen way back.
He took in a deep breath, and let it out slower, almost unwillingly. With Seras some meters away, he felt a strange pull downwards, his body and head anxious for a bed and a pillow. Neglecting his physiological needs, he kept his eyes glued to her partner, hoping she'd eventually remember to let go of that damn rifle.
#
AN: Hey, welcome to the end of this chapter! I'm not pleased with that Alucard scene, but I couldn't think of another way to convey his paranoia and fears (I haven't watched Hellsing in forever, but I do remember him occasionally crying and that he has a bazillion demons living inside him or something). Also, apologies if the characters come off OOC here, but there's a lot of stress going on, and I barely remember the manga/anime. Like I said in my post, this story went somewhere I did not intend it to go, and I felt compelled to write these drawn-out scenes because of it. I regret falling into this hole, and I'm undecided on how to approach the following chapters in regards to the structure, but I'm (unfortunately) more inclined towards maintaining these long-ass scenes, and consequently having to write more chapters to fit everything.
I hate this, a little. A lot, often, but that's where I am. I refuse to promise anything, with the exception that I will see this story to its completion, and that I will eventually get back to pregnancy/romance shenanigans, which was the original idea for this fic. All this drama and "emotionally-charged" stuff is not really what I wanted, my goal was nowhere near this seriousness/complexity (I really just wanted domestic romance/baby stuff), BUT, it's where I got, it's something I'm not used to doing, it's practice, yadda yadda, so I shall… soldier on!
And, as always, THANK YOU for being here! Thank you for follows and alerts and all that stuff, thank you so much, and I'm so sorry for being so slow. T_T I salute you o7