Hellsing

"All war is a symptom of man's failure as a thinking animal."
-John Steinbeck




War... It truly never changes. Whether in a suit or in a loin cloth, men will surely forever be their own worst enemy, pursuing endless struggles spanning lifetimes, generations...millenia. When lines blur and sordid smudges tarnish the clarity of motives, black and white soon turns to washed out shades of grey. Degradation takes root and it’s no longer about the truth that either side is fighting for, but rather who can outlast their adversary until the inevitable, bitter end. There is no giving up; only giving in...and no sweet repose can be found in neither ignorance nor innocence. It’s no longer a battle...it’s an endurance trial... the jury has already cast their votes and the executioner has front-row tickets. Millennium: the final great war with the last Battalion of the Third Reich had spanned no more than a blink in the history of those who still live to tell the tale. The Vatican’s attempt at their crusade was eventually washed away into the gutters where so many of their secrets withered and putrefied like a festering wound. However, for Alucard, this war waged on for more than a decade.

Through the onslaught, through the sea of souls, and through the deepest loathsome recesses of his being, the king of vampires carried on, guided only by the faintest whispers of his fledgling Draculina’s hopeful voice and the memories of a woman whom he cared for so much more deeply than he had ever admitted to anyone: Integra. For every soul he dispatched and for each bit of himself he slowly vanquished, he was thinking of her and the promise he had broken; her final order which he could not obey. ‘Don’t close your eyes...Don’t leave me’, she said...and yet, he’d had no choice in the matter. For once, despite all of his strength, Alucard had been undeniably powerless. (Perhaps he should take this as a lesson on biting off more than he could chew…) But at last, there remained only one other. The Crimson Count caught a glimpse of bruised hues both golden and violet; an amaranthine sunset against the glorious colors of which was cast the silhouette of the last bastion...his final adversary: His poison...the only way home. Silent, exhausted, yet victorious, he stared down the last remnant of his lifelong voracious consumption...and smiled. Is this how God felt in Genesis? In the Beginning...at the cusp of creation? It had to have been.

Gradually, the warm sunset hues drained away like sand in a bottomless hourglass and when comforting darkness ensconced him, the Count at long last, reopened his eyes. Beneath a grandiose bloodmoon that hung low and heavy in the night sky over Hellsing Manor, Alucard began to materialize. It was as though the shadows of reality themselves were methodically weaving his form back into existence. He felt the cooling breeze ghost over the skin of his face before it playfully twirled invisible digits through long strands of hair as dark as the shadows from whence he came. It carried with it, all the pleasantly familiar scents that permeated the very foundation of that old mansion and despite the fact that it had been nearly reduced to rubble, those vibrant red eyes of his found the rear side of the structure to be no different than he remembered. The old vampire glanced down to his arms clad in snug black leather festooned with strap-and-buckle garlands fit for a madman. Becoming a real, physical entity again proved to be just as rewarding as he had anticipated, but wait… Eyes now began to widen when he focused his attention on the gloves that dressed his hands; stained and frayed befitting the arduous battle he’d fought and won. There, in the place where two seals of Hellsing once marked the white fabric, all that remained now were two holes; edges scorched and still smoldering like they had been burned from the textiles. He remembered now… recalling the moment in which Integra had called the command to release the final seal of the Control Art Restriction System...to level Zero. And in a sense that is what he had become for a while: Zero...the stall-point between the positive and the negative, the real and the imaginary, life and death. Until now…. And for now, there would be no more need for that final seal. The army of souls it served to restrain had fallen and Alucard, the no-life-king, watched with a glazed, distant stare as those hands began to tremble. A tingle rolled along the length of his spine. The realization washed over him like a tidal wave and he began to understand: He was free.

Hands clasped while long fingers rubbed over the burned away patches of cloth that exposed porcelain skin beneath. A peculiar feeling gurgled up from the recesses of his psyche and filled him so much so that he nearly became overwhelmed and no longer knew whether he wanted to cry or laugh maniacally. Managing to stifle both, he simply donned a fanged grin that would give even the Cheshire cat in the flesh a run for his money. Freedom… after spending his childhood subjugated and forced to endure harrowing indignities. Freedom...after living enslaved by his own loathing and vengeance that consumed him like he consumed those who dared stand in his path. Freedom...after years of servitude to Abraham VanHellsing and his successors thereafter. Freedom...it seemed so surreal; so foreign and in truth, to Alucard it really was.
And now? He thought to himself. Long streaks of raven hair swayed in the breath of the night breeze, wisps of shadowy tendrils still clinging to it. He had returned here for a reason hadn’t he? The long battle at his back was a war he’d waged solely for this very moment; to come home. Not only because this is where they kept his coffin...no this was home for much different reasons as well...much more ‘human’ reasons. The more he thought about it, the more any ambivalent notion began to fade and imbued with a dawning sense of nostalgia, he felt certain of the decision he wished to make. He wanted to feed. He wanted to sleep in the safe, rejuvenating hollow of his coffin (although it felt to him like he’d just woken from a very long nightmare). But most importantly, he needed to see Her.

Eyes like two smoldering embers leered up toward a very familiar window.

“Ooooh, how very Stockholm Syndrome of you, don’t you agree?” The strange voice caught him completely off-guard. The words weren’t spoken to him by anyone, and yet Alucard could hear it clear as crystal. It wasn’t his own internalized voice, he knew that without a doubt. After all, his own voice didn’t speak with an annoying German accent. And yet, he wasn’t sure anymore if those had been his own thoughts or not.

“Like a little bird, set free only to return to its cage…” He heard it again, drifting through the corridors of his mind with the faintest hints of an echoed resonance. What in the hell was going on? That voice...why was someone else’s irritating voice inside of his head, mocking him no less? Eyelids narrowed over red irises. The grin he’d worn so proudly vanished entirely.
For a brief moment, all fell silent save for the gentle rustle of distant trees as their leaves whispered stories to the passing wind. Maybe it was gone now? Or maybe if he just ignored it, pretended like he heard nothing, it would go away. But just as the vampire took his first step, heavy and encumbered by fatigue, sure enough, there it was yet again.

“You can go anyvere, do anysing, have everysing….you could be literally anyvere else but zis dusty old place.” Now he finally recognized it. The accent, the boyish prepubescent pitch, the manner in which it kept articulating the word ‘anywhere’. It was that damned little abomination with the cat ears that he’d shot in the face...the one that always lurked at The Major’s side...the one that had managed to unhinge his physical reality and catalyzed this entire mess. Alucard took only one more step toward the towering structure of the mansion before stopping dead in his tracks with fists and jaws snared tightly. No...Oh no. There was no way in hell he was going to be stuck with this Hitler-Youth thought-experiment backseat-driving his own internal monologue.

“Shut up, before I finish the job and rip the last annoying fringes of you from the ragged floor-mat of existence.” He never vocalized a single word. There was no need. The other could hear him quite clearly, and quippantly formulated a retort, seemingly elated that the vampire had finally decided to join the conversation.

“Oh, but you won’t...You can’t… not if you want to be wis zem indefinitely anyway. You are because I am and if I am not zen neiser are you. You need me...But you know zat, don’t you?...You know zat because I know zat, Herr Graf!” A jovial cacophony of giggling and laughter, repugnant and grinding, strained Alucard’s already weary conscience and caused him to physically cringe with vexation. “Oh, it’s so good to be back, isn’t it?”

The Count growled quietly. Unfortunately that thing had a point and as much as he loathed that truth, what he loathed far more was the fact that the first discourse in his reclaimed physical body was being held with that despicable brat.

“Laugh while you can, Nazi twit. Just wait until I have my strength back… For now you’re just a pawn, a pet at my disposal, nothing else.” Again he was rushed with a barrage of foolish giggling and laughter followed by a simple tune; a little melody. Great...now that arrogant two-bit terror was whistling German folk songs to top it all off. Alucard was lacking the patience and energy to want to deal with this headache of a situation. Enough was enough, he was still the one in charge of this joy-ride gone sideways, even though he felt a bit like he was teetering on the brink of insanity at the moment. The Count looked up to that window once more, craning his neck while a sly little smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Up there...the woman I know would put an end to me for good the moment I asked her to, and don’t think I won’t if you don’t keep your nerve-grinding voice to yourself.” He addressed the other with an air of confidence that caused the incessant whistling to cease. The voice of Schrodinger stilled as though pondering the validity of the vampire’s threat.

“Hmm, we’ll see, Herr Graf…We’ll see, won’t we...” The statement was muttered much more quietly, and then the creature said no more.

This was far too bothersome. Exhaustion...that had to be it. 13 years of struggle, starvation, and tearing himself apart piece by piece was taking its toll on him and he couldn’t even maintain dominance over the one soul he still had to keep a hold of. What he could use was some rest, but it wasn’t what he really wanted. Not yet. There were more pressing matters to attend to first...but perhaps, a slight change of appearance might be in order.He felt relieved to have his thoughts to himself again, though how much of his thoughts were truly kept as his own anymore was now a subject of speculation. Finally able to focus, he moved on and the next thing he knew, the Count’s tall figure, dressed in the cooling hues of the moonlit night as well as that heavy, signature scarlet coat found himself within the lady Integra’s bedroom. The dark unruly tendrils of hair just passed his shoulders now and he appeared not much different than the Count whom Miss Hellsing had always known, save for one subtle difference and that was his gloves. They simply were no longer there.

Oh? Was this how it worked now? Simply manifesting himself where he wished to be? Convenient, really… The vampire grinned, rushed by the familiar scent of the woman who slept so blissfully unaware of his presence. But there was something else as well. A certain energy that coursed through the very walls with a steady pulsing hum far too subtle for any human to detect. Seras… His grin broadened. Good girl. You’ve guarded her well. The old vampire felt a sense of pride for his fledgling as he approached the bed slowly, each quietly shuffled footfall seeming slightly heavier than the last. The closer he came, the stronger the scent grew; teasing, beckoning, urging him ever closer. God damn how much he’d missed her.

She hadn’t changed much at all, had she? The creamy, tanned skin looked beautifully contrasted by the pale ashen hair she still kept long. Through the large windows, the moon cast her sleeping visage in a calming cool hue. What a perfectly splendid night for a homecoming. Encroaching further, the Count now saw the protective covering that shielded her left eye. How had that happened? He wondered, though the little curiosity was quickly ushered away into the back of his mind when the woman stirred slightly, long strands cascading from delicate skin to reveal the elegant curvature of her throat. He could hear her steady heartbeat, see her pulse strum rhythmically beneath the succulent tissue of her throat and all he felt was utter, unadulterated hunger. His breath quickened once he reached the edge of her bed. Pupils dilated within irises the color of rubies scattered across an open fire. His mouth, though parched like one who has wandered the desert for days now moistened in feral anticipation. How she entranced him, and he was so, so very hungry. The vampire leaned in, so close now he could feel the warmth of her body blanket his face like the last comforting memories of soothing sunlight he could still cling to. He was giving in. Giving in to his very own nature. Giving in to his longing, his desperate hunger not only for blood, but for the very essence of her being. He was giving in, like so many millions give in to the struggle of war...the war they wage within themselves… war never really changes….

The Crimson Count parted his jaws, and dark stray strands fell eagerly to greet the landscapes of her face with a gentle caress like the curtains of a stage as they close on the final act.

Shadows crawled around the slender form of the tall woman, holding her in place, while a shadowy hand grasped her chin, forcing her to look into the shadowy mass with the glowing red eyes. A striking blue eye stared into the face of the abomination that held her captive, her expression defiant. "Give in little Integra....you want to..." It growled, baring sharp fangs at her, gleaming fangs that appeared in the shadowy mass, revealing where its maw was. The voice was so familiar, made shivers run down her spine, even though she was one to not fear much. This....this was different. "Never..." She hissed hissed out, daring to stare into the eyes that were like bottomless pits. For just a moment she found herself falling, fading away into the darkness that had been a part of her for so many years.
Why did it feel so good to fade away? Because it meant freedom without pain? Always the same, every night for thirteen years. Shadows, the eyes of a beast that were hers but placed on an abomination and a voice that had made her shiver as a little girl and still was just as horrifying. But she knew what the beast was. This monster that tortured her was her...at least in some ways. And she knew how to fight it.

Completely silent the ashen haired woman tossed and turned in her sleep, tightly gripping the sheets of her bed. Every night this same dream tortured her, had held her in its shadowy grasp since the war so many years ago. For thirteen years she had lived like this, unsure if she could go on. Had all that fighting been worth it? There were days where she didn't think so, dark days where she would sit in her rebuilt office, spending hours with a bottle of whiskey and during those days, the few men she had and even her dear companion knew to leave her alone. Showing weakness had never been her thing and so for most of the time she hid the feelings that often threatened to overwhelm her. Guilt, betrayal, pain, sadness. So much more that was always there, but mostly hidden. She had failed her men in that war, felt guilty for having so many fight for her while only very few survived, guilty for still being alive while so many families mourned their losses. Betrayal from learning that the man she grew up with, the man she trusted, had taken the side of the enemy in the war, leading them right to her doorstep. Pain and sadness...those were tricky ones. Of course she felt sad for the losses, felt sorry for the families who had lost fathers, brothers and sons. But there was something deeper, something that tore her heart apart. She too had suffered a loss in this war and the pain of losing him weighed heavily on her. Every night before she gave in to sleep and those nightmares, she had looked out of the window, hoping that he would return to her, hoping that he had not forgotten about her. In those moments she felt truly alone and lost, just because he wasn't there. Yet she never understood why she felt that way, the concept of what she was truly feeling for Alucard being a mystery to her and everyone.

"Where are you?" She had so often muttered to herself while staring into the darkness but always the same response, silence. In times where she felt alone and wanted nothing more than have him in her life again, she locked herself in the room within the dungeon that had once belonged to him. How many times had Seras tried to find her and had been greeted by a furious Integra that no one ever wished to see? Way too many times. But in those times the Draculina had come to truly fear her. A too furious Integra was a force of nature, a wounded beast cornered and with nowhere else to go, dangerous and deadly. But all that was nothing when she slept. In the first nights she had stirred and even fallen out of bed while silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Those nightmares were what always drove her to the edge. The strong woman Alucard had known had grown tired, more tired than a woman of thirty-five should be, even though she had been through much more than other women her age.

Feeling the shadows of her dream grasp her even tighter, she twitched slightly in her sleep. But suddenly there was peace and everything seemed to be alright. What could have such an effect on her? It could have something to do with the vampire that suddenly appeared in her room. His presence seemed to comfort her, calmed her and finally she was truly able to sleep.

He could see her shift slightly under the covers, her hair, shimmering slightly in the pale glimmer of the moon, caressing her skin while it followed her movements, letting him see what he craved so much. It had been so many years since he had tasted her blood for the very first time. But that moment had formed a bond between them, a bond much stronger than they knew. It was something so much more than they understood, but in time they would understand.

And suddenly things happened fast. The peace was broken the moment he came so very close that he could take a bite. Just when his hair touched her skin, she suddenly moved and just a moment later he would feel the gun pressed against his temple if he weren't to react fast. That striking blue eye of hers stared at him, alert as always, but he could see how tired she was. But not because he woke her up. The reason for this tired was simply emotional, a strong woman having been strong for far too long without anyone to truly hold her together. No words came over her lips, she didn't shoot, but she also didn't take the gun away. Something else showed on her face...disbelief. Was she dreaming or was he truly there? Had he truly returned to her after all those years? Integra hesitated. Not moving the gun, she moved her free hand, hesitantly reaching out to touch him as if she had to make sure he was really there.

The vampire, though eager and nearly ravenous, felt the the shifting of the woman’s body as she started awake and pulled herself away from the serrated maw which had come so alarmingly close. Even before Alucard could manage to close those fanged jaws, quicker still than even the thought his mind wished to summon, he found his conquest for sustenance cut quite short by the gun barrel pressed to the side of his head. The only thing that did touch his lips were the elusive, spectral memories of the ambrosial blood he’d once tasted so long ago. He paused, still as a statue for a moment while the hard, metallic muzzle of the pistol, unwavering, graced his temple with a cold kiss of rejection. He should have seen that one coming from a mile away, but perhaps he had... He knew better than to underestimate this woman, and never would. Yet, she never failed to surprise him in new and pleasantly refreshing ways. Had she always slept with a firearm under her pillow? Honestly, he wouldn’t doubt it...but what if this was some new-found habit brought on by some deeply rooted fear of what monsters might come to find her as she slept. Alucard came to a stark realization at this point and he was forced to question whether or not Integra had wished for him to return or even expected him to. This very question begot a speculation that perhaps she did expect it, and that the weapon now trained at him was kept close as she slept in anticipation of this very scenario: to safeguard her from an unpredictable creature of sin and cruelty...a creature which she could no longer control. No...that couldn’t be the case, could it? If Integra had felt any reason to fear him, she never would have released him from the fetters bestowed upon him by her predecessors.

Regardless, this was quite a nice touch, the vampire thought and finally allowed those burning ember eyes wander along the length of her steady arm until they locked to her single-eyed stare which still retained the most vibrant tone of blue even in the darkness of the room. She looked more mature than the last time they had stood face to face...more distinguished. Thirteen years ago, despite her iron will and relentless fighting spirit, some may have questioned her decisions and credibility, but now, the woman the vampire witnessed possessed a countenance only an utter fool would dare to doubt. Yet behind the flawless reflexes and proud confidence, the old Count could sense fatigue. The kind of fatigue produced by heavy burdens to bear and monstrous clutches of guilt which smothered the spirit. Alucard knew of such pain, and her weariness mirrored his own.

If he moved, would she squeeze the trigger? And if so, would that bullet be the last thing to ever go through his head again? ‘Are you watching this, cat-boy? Don’t say I didn’t warn you…’ He thought derisively to himself and it felt as though the captive soul within him shrank back into the dark recesses of his being with fearful uncertainty. The woman before him reached out, her expression flooded by disbelief and he dared not move. In fact, his breath froze in his lungs and eyes still stained with longing never drifted from the face he once thought he might never see again. But alas, here he was, and he welcomed her touch which filled him with a strange sense of completion...accomplishment...and also, oddly enough, humility. Never in his lifetime had he shared such a significant, tender moment with anyone pointing a gun at his head...but there just had to be a first time for everything...and who was to say that it would be the last? Finally, the Count turned his head only the very slightest degree to shift some straying black strands from his field of vision. He wanted to look upon her face without obstruction. The barrel of the pistol received a gentle nudge from the motion of his head. It too was getting slightly in the way and there was no trepidation or concern with which he regarded the weapon. Alucard’s eyes remained latched to hers as though the answers to all of life’s deepest secrets could be found there and there alone. At last, he smiled. Not that deviant, signature smirk of a bemused fiend...no, this was a genuine smile...a relieved smile...a comforted smile.

“And a good evening to you as well, Integra Hellsing. I didn’t mean to wake you...” Like the misty fog of a warm morning drifting over shards of broken glass, or like a sharpened blade of cold steel caressing the inner thigh of the subconscious, Alucard’s voice, despite his exhaustion, still bore a deeply resonant quality; a regal gravitas which elegantly clothed the ever present hints of what might be interpreted as mischievous...malicious… and undeniably dangerous…

Could it be true? Had he really returned to her and didn't mean to harm her? It was hard to believe for her that even after all this time, filled with the hunger she saw glistening in his eyes, he wouldn't harm her. He was free after all and now they should be enemies. There had been so many reasons for those seals to keep him under control and with them gone, he was dangerous to even her. Or at least he should be. There was a slight twinkle in that shimmering blue eye of hers while she observed him. A slight tremble could be felt in her hand on his chest, briefly seen on her whole body. Fear? Oh no, this was something else, something she had yet to understand.

That voice of his, had it always been so...tempting? Had it always drawn her in in such a way? There definitely was something about him, about his voice that she couldn't explain. All she knew in the moment when his voice reached her ears was that she wanted to be close to him, wanted to feel that gentle touch of his. Her body trembled once again, just slightly, barely noticeable for a human, yet evident for the heightened senses of a vampire. And in that moment she felt the tugging in her heart, a desire she didn't understand fully, her body and her very soul aching to be close to him. For a moment she hesitated, but then she slowly lowered the gun, placing it aside. Her now free hand reached up to touch his cheek in such a gentle way that others would never expect from the battle hardened woman. Slender fingers traced his jaw line while she remained silent. But when she finally spoke, her voice was just as he would remember it, yet the tone softened, something that only happened when the two of them were alone.

"My Count...I have been waiting for your return..." Despite sounding just like always, even her tone hinted her fatigue, but she seemed to try and hide it, not wanting to show that weakness. But that was just how Integra was, how he knew her. A strong woman, not revealing any weakness, not even allowing herself to be a little more relaxed when in private. And suddenly that wall she had built after almost being murdered by her own uncle cracked. His return, being something she hoped for, but something she never really expected to happen, managed to widen those cracks, his voice shattering the wall while his presence drew her in.

He could feel her hands tremble and suddenly she was so close, no fear of the wild monster he was. Her slender form was even closer to him than before, her head leaning against his chest before she suddenly pulled away, leaving nothing but the ghost of her touch, the ghost of her scent. Integra slowly stepped over to her desk and rested her one hand on the polished surface while her other hand grasped the letter opener, one finger tracing the side of the sharpened blade. "You need to feed. I can provide." Very simple words, yet hinting so much more. While she chose those words, her tone showed that she wasn't stating facts, but offering him the one thing he needed and craved.

The tremble in her hand, not fear nor fatigue but...something else that mirrored intrigue... enticement...desire. It was familiar to him in the same way that a passage from a good book or the scent of wildflowers in Spring might recall certain memories laden with emotion. However, this was not the kind of emotional energy he’d ever known from Integra and yet, it seemed to radiate from her now with each heartbeat and every minuscule quiver of her body. The touch of her hand against his chest was so very welcomed and that curious desire pervaded his body and mind, intermingling with the still present traces of a covetous appetite. He wanted more.

Retaining the honest smile that lingered on his lips, he observed as the pistol withdrew slowly from his temple and was placed carefully on the cushioned comforts of the bed still warm from where she had slept. That smile broadened ever so slightly with a simple twitch and just before the touch of her fingers could find their home against the pale skin of his face, the Count let dark lashes fall shut over crimson pools with yearning anticipation. Long, dexterous digits flexed subtly against the smooth textiles of the sheets where his weight still rested upon gloveless hands. Still, he desired more. He wanted to touch her, to feel the creamy, sleek texture of her skin, to experience the luxuriant ashen hair gliding between his fingers... Among a multifarious myriad of inclinations born from this simple, gentle caress, these were perhaps the most innocent...yet also the most true to what little slivers of humanity he still managed to preserve. In the end, it was always his perpetual, unwavering respect for Integra that prevailed over even his darkest desires and this was no different. The vampire tilted his head ever so slightly into the benevolent safe haven of her touch. He would wait. Let the crescendo build.

When she finally spoke and those carefully articulated words trickled over fine-tuned hearing, Alucard’s lips parted with a full fledged smile and a quiet chuckle rolled through the fanged teeth so daringly near the delicate skin of her graceful wrist. She still sounded so much like he had remembered: Pragmatic and mature. Noble and elegant. Not just the words she had chosen, but also the cool and composed quality of her cadence, saturated him with a tingle of sheer exuberance. She had been waiting...and oh how long he’d kept her. Far too long. Feeling the sensation of a nearly undetectable tremble in her fingertips, he reopened his eyes to look upon her face once more... but instead she had closed in with such an overwhelming sense of urgency that the elder vampire now witnessed the side of her face pressed fearlessly to his chest where her other hand had previously rested. Even in the most memorable of moments when they would regard each other with vulnerability and compassion, their physical interactions had never crossed specific boundaries of almost stoic professionalism. Calmly radiant eyes exhibited only a minute glimmer of surprise before he angled his neck, bringing chin and jaw to settle gingerly on the crown of her head. He thought to say something, but instead, Alucard reveled in her scent, her warmth, the silken sleekness of her hair, her radiant energy until she decided to pull herself away again. Was it just something dictated by his instincts, he wondered? To want her ever closer...to enchant her and draw her in the way a carnivorous plant might do to a fly? Perhaps not… No matter how ephemeral the small moment of serenity had been, it was a small and very precious gift that he wouldn’t want to surrender for all the wealth or power in the world.

The vampire straightened his posture, his garnet gaze following her graceful figure as she moved tired yet confidently to her desk. He’d spied the silver letter opener with its ornate handle before she even reached for it, knowing quite well in the back of his mind what she intended to do with it. The pointed edge of the blade glistened in the moonlight as she traced the edge provocatively with the pad of her finger. Alucard’s mouth watered again, a slightly more predatory undertone returning to his fixed stare. Yet, he waited; wanting and patient like a civilized beast of aristocracy, for his lady’s invitation. When it came, the words themselves, spoken so matter-of-factly, may have seemed like nothing more than a mere statement of an obvious truth. The real invitation was hidden in the tone of her voice, the way in which her radiant single-eyed gaze regarded the Count with a beckoning sense of playful pride. She had that which he wanted and craved indeed, and she knew this very well. Giving in to an invasive grin, Alucard wouldn’t be found hesitant to accept her gracious offer.

Nearly jumping out of his own skin with eager anticipation of the imminent satisfaction, he stepped away from the bedside where he’d stood waiting. The hem of the deep red coat swayed with the motion of his stride which, though slightly less precise than usual, still retained a refined and dignified fluidity. Just prior to closing the distance that spanned between them, the hungering vampire came to a stop. Pale moonlight poured in through the large window pane, spilled over his tall stature, and pooled in a luminescent rectangular configuration at his feet. There, the Crimson Count looked over Integra’s features for the span of only a second before lowering his body to kneel before her. Feathered black strands fell to the side of his face as he bowed his head with a calm sense of grace and although the gesture could be perceived as a display of subservience, it truly never was. While the heirs of hellsing were capable of controlling and commanding him, they were never more to him than animal handlers in a circus arena, cracking a whip in the face of a creature they may have trained but not tamed. Little men playing with a toy too dangerous and unpredictable for casual use. And much like it was in the nature of men to do, he was shut away, put into storage like an object; some soulless thing. Starving slowly in absolute solitude, he thought he’d been forgotten...until the fateful day when a young Integra came upon his prison. It was then that she breathed life into him anew with that exquisite blood of hers. He knew that his obedience to her was an obligation, but it was then, in that very moment, that the king of vampires had known to whom he wished to consign his true devotion...and he chose her. It was the same then as it was now, and would continue to be until the final chapter of her life eventually came to a close.

“I want to thank you...for doing something I never thought anyone would do for me...and I hope you’ll forgive me for my absence…” His voice, quiet and steady, presented the words with sublime authenticity. Lifting his head, he looked to her with eyes like gleaming kaleidoscopes of ruby and amber. “From now on, I will stay at your side, my Contesă... Forevermore.” The final syllables trickled from lips sporting a beguiling smile.

Her heart was racing in her chest from the moment she moved so very close to him. Would he notice that change, that quickening heartbeat giving away the strong desire that had a grip on her very soul for so long? Having him so close, so very close, only made her realize just how much she had truly missed him. Pulling away from him had been so much harder than she imagined, causing her body to ache even more as her very being yearned for the gentle touch. No other man had ever made her feel that way or even remotely close to that. Men had come before, introduced by one of her oldest allies in an attempt to partner her with someone to one day have an heir. But nothing happened. They came, were introduced but then they left because she never wanted to see them for longer. Not because they weren't good looking. There had been some very good looking. But she knew they never were the right one. None of them could ever compare to the perfect example of a powerful man that she grew up with. And in that moment where he finally was so close, allowing her to share that precious moment of affection, she realized it. Only then she understood that unspoken thing had been not just the desire of feeling his touch on her skin, feeling his skin under her finger tips. It was so much more. Awakening to his touch, being one with him in so many ways. Every thought of this only caused the aching of her heart to grow stronger until it was almost too painful to bear.

How did this happen? Was this love? Of course that was something she wouldn't know as she had never felt the bond of lovers before and her only example of love had been the bond between father and daughter before he had passed. But what she knew was that even the small distance between her and her Count was too much to bear and she wanted him to be close, to never let him go again now that he had finally returned to her. When he finally came closer, kneeling before her, she exhaled slowly, relieved as the pounding of her heart slowed just before his voice once again caused it to quicken. Had his voice always done this to her? Or did she only realize it now because she started to understand? His words, his smile, the moon light shimmering on his hair and pale skin, causing a fire within her which she could not control. Her striking blue eye shimmered, showing that flickering flame of something as old as time, a fire burning within her, a desire awakened by his presence, forcing away the fatigue.

Her slender fingers slowly wrapped around the handle of the letter opener, bringing it closer to her while she looked down at him, a hint of something much more deeper than the love others knew showing in her eye. Without hesitation, she reached down with her free hand, slender fingers touching his cheek, gently stroking over his skin. "My Count....I would do everything for you." And she really meant those words, spoken in a tone he never heard from her before. Her tone was almost the same, at least to others it would be. But he could hear that there was something else, an unspoken desire, unspoken love she had yet to really understand. "Of course I forgive you..." Integra slowly leaned down, her face so close to his while her fingers moved from his cheek under his chin. "Now and forever we shall be a united force everyone will once again learn to fear." With those words whispered, she leaned just a bit closer, her lips touching his for just a very brief moment, only the ghost of a contact before she pulled back.

The silver of the blade gleamed in the light of the moon as a single silvery flash. Her hand guided the blade against her skin with a swift move, watching it pierce through her soft skin, watching the unharmed skin slowly part in a fine red line before blood trickled out of it, running over her arm. With a smile that showed just how happy she was that he was back, that he had returned to her, she offered him her arm. Of course she knew what this meant, what it meant to offer a starved vampire her blood, knew fully well that he might be unable to stop until she was drained or turned. But all that faded into the background, pushed aside by those strong feelings and her wish to help the one she cared so much about. It was the ultimate proof of her trust, offering him her blood. "Alucard...my Count...all those years I have waited and for all the years you have already stood by my side, offering you my blood is the least I can do."

He knew there had always been a certain way in which she held sway over him, like the moon’s gravitational pull swayed the ocean’s tides...she possessed the power to move him, inspire him to do great things...terrible things...anything, really. Even the terrible things, when done for her, made him feel less like a monster...and in a way, that is how he knelt before her now: more of a man instead of a monster than he had been for a very long time. The prodigious number of souls he’d amassed like a horde were gone (except the most annoying one to ever exist) and despite his relief to be here again; to be free, the Count was plagued with a dreadful emptiness that rivaled his hunger. He felt more desperately lonely now, more painfully lonely, than he had ever wanted to feel again and realized very quickly that the only being alive on this planet capable of putting an end to it was the marvellous woman who stood in his presence.

What was to happen then when her days were done? When the coils of mortality would take her from him and he would have to watch her be put to rest in the bed of her very own coffin, reunited with her kin in the Hellsing family plot… on that fateful day, would he even be able to bring himself to watch? He already rued a day so far into the future, the thought alone forced its invasive appendage down Alucard’s throat, found his heart, and constricted the barely beating chambers to a complete standstill. But why dwell on such somber sentiments when this was such a joyous reunion?

The vampire recalled the multitude of times in which he had knelt before her just like this. From the days when she was just a young girl, throughout her adolescence and early adulthood. It had been the greatest pleasure to watch her grow, become more confident, more experienced, more mature emotionally and physically. And now, as he knelt before his most dearest lady, they looked to one another in a way they never had before, like the time and distance between them had pulled away an obstructive veil. Oh yes, he heard it quite clearly, that slight quickening of her heartbeat when he spoke and when their eyes locked to one another. He heard it not only because the hunger he felt sent his instincts over the edge...he heard it because her heart didn’t just beat...it sang. And he knew that it sang for him. It sang in the most divine ways reminiscent of a siren’s song...an angel’s hymn...or the song of spring’s whispered canons breathing life into the winter ravaged earth. This he heard and felt with such clarity like never before and despite the many past times his thoughts had dwelled on his desire to touch her...to taste her...even to bring her into his world, what he perceived now was laced with something immensely more powerful.

His humbled gaze followed her as she approached, chin tilting upward as to never lose sight of her face. And as though he had fanned his thoughts out before her like a deck of cards, she’d plucked his present desire from the depth of his mind and delivered it to him in the form of yet another warming touch. This time, his eyes remained open as words washed over him like comforting rays of the most perfect dawn. He could barely recall the last time he felt this invigorated...so alive… Perhaps in the very brief and fleeting instant when he thought the Paladin might actually succeed and kill him? No...that was different, a much different sort of rush. This wasn’t a sensation born from imminent death, or the thrill of a satisfying battle. This sensation was the child of a far more selfless pursuit: friendship...devotion...trust...or perhaps, although he thought carefully before considering further... love? Whatever it was, he struggled to fathom what words could possibly be true enough to purvey an accurate description.

As her fingers explored along the edge of his jaw and slowly journeyed below his chin, the only thing which trumped this divine sensation was the one brought on by the words with which she lavished him once more. Learn to fear? Oh, I love it when you speak my language! His pupils seemed to dilate slightly, eyes glistening with glints of tyrannical glee. Each and every breath Integra had invested in those syllables felt like gifts created just for him. The lord of vampires felt the will to summon up a smirk, but those lips were graced by something much different...something far more unexpected...and also far more delectable. It happened so quickly and yet radiated through him so completely that the aftermath of that ethereal kiss left each and every muscle in his body tingling, too stunned to chase the ghost left haunting his senses. Lids parted the slightest degree and eyes like amaranthine embers focused inquisitively on her confident sapphire gaze as though searching for some answer or perhaps an affirmation that he hadn’t just been hallucinating. The only answer which came, however, was delivered by the bold stroke of a gleaming blade and the glimmering spectacle of crimson that held all of the truths he desired in this very moment. His focus had shifted from her captivating gaze, pulled away by instinct like a docile feline recalling its feral impulse at the sound of a rustle in the grass. He watched the delicate, creamy skin of her arm part so easily beneath the pressure of the blade and suddenly he was rushed by that distinctive bouquet that tipped the scale of his hunger to a point that felt damned near unbearable. Muscles grew tense, quite visible from the tightening of his jaws. Fingers twitched lightly. A quiver shook his bottom lip before it was pinned beneath a pointed canine. It felt as though time itself had slowed to a crawl and each second ticked by in pristine, crisp perfection of which he had been able to take in every minute detail. The anticipation was maddening. But finally, she withdrew the blade from the simple cut and presented her offering to the vampire king who no longer had a master, but belonged to her and her alone.

The time had finally come for the silent symphony to near its great crescendo; for this emotional foreplay to come to an end. Slowly, as though weighed down by disbelief, he reached out his right hand toward her’s. He watched as a light tremble quaked his fingers just before those bare digits enveloped her own with a certain fascination that may have sufficiently distracted him from the weeping wound if only he hadn’t been so very hungry. For the first time in centuries, he felt the magnificent sensation of a touch unhampered by those gloves. For the first time, since the dawn of their days together, he was finally able not only to touch her, but to feel her as well. And now… He pulled breath after deep, ragged breath into his lungs... not for the sake of needing to breathe but because he just couldn't get enough of that scent. A famished gaze flicked to her single sky blue gaze for a mere moment as if to reassure himself one final time that this was real...that it was quite alright… And when he did, he found a smile of unparalleled warmth accompanied by words that granted him comforting reassurance. He hadn't thanked her just for her offer alone. After all, Integra had placed her trust in him, allowed him to go free, kept his coffin safe... the old vampire had much to be thankful for. His response was spoken with utmost sincerity, “My Contesă….Integra…. My life for yours.”

Alucard returned her smile although he felt immensely overwhelmed and that was evident in his voice. It had grown quiet, barely above a whisper. Her hand nestled in his, the beckoning scent of her blood, the joy of being in her presence, her offer to him and the words she’d spoken...the hunger...the exhaustion…it all sank in and settled causing the Count to nearly weep. Though instead, he finally looked away and guided her arm ever so slightly closer, to lips which parted from ferocious, pointed fangs, allowing the deep red liquid to trickle onto his tongue. Nearly instantly, a quietly growled moan of indulgent delight welled in his throat and lids fell closed over brightly burning eyes. The vampire reveled in this savory treat and his hunger lead him ever closer to the source of that delectable nectar which spilled into his maw, thrilling...electrifying, setting his heart asunder. The monster within him screamed like a greedy child pitching a temper tantrum. It surely must have crossed Integra's mind that there might be a possibility he wouldn’t be able to stop himself and resist the urge to take it all...But the fact that this gift of hers was the deepest display of trust kept the beast at bay. The urge was present. Oh yes, it stalked the perimeter of his conscience, feral and rabid with lustful avarice, tempting him to give in and let those sharpened fangs rip in to her supple flesh. But at the very heart of him was still a piece that remained true to his nobility; that honored the trust which forged the foundation of their relationship. It was this piece of him that believed very fervently that the creation of another vampire without consent, by force or otherwise, was a despicable act comparable to rape. He’d given the choice to Seras, after all...This is how it was and would always be.

And thus, the Count maintained steady dominance over his vicious inclinations, merely allowing the crimson stained tip of his tongue to trace the length of the linear wound with perfect poise, his inner conflict only visible by the occasional tensing of the fingers he still kept wrapped around Integra’s so gently it was difficult to believe he'd used them so often to rip his enemies to shreds.

The moment his hand took hers, she shuddered just briefly and once again her heartbeat seemed to quicken. Finally being able to not only feel his touch from the gloves, but skin against skin, feeling him the way she had always wanted to feel him, it felt incredible. No, incredible wasn't the right word. But there was no other word to describe how it felt to finally be complete, to finally have a secret wish fulfilled like this. There was only one thing that could make this night better but she dared not speak of it. Feeling his tongue trace the cut, she set down the blade, tainted by a few drops of her blood and slowly reached out for him. Slender fingers ran through his hair, playing with strands of it in a way that showed how much affection she truly held for him. She had never feared this man, even as a child. But in this very moment she realized just how strongly she truly felt for him. The ghost of a kiss, the feeling of their lips touching was still there and while it had been a test for herself, she now understood quite clearly what it meant.

Closing her eye, she relaxed, one finger gently stroking his while he was holding her and the other hand remained on his head with that so very gently, feather light touch. Integra knew how hard it was to keep his inner beast at bay, but the fact that he did made her smile. Their trust in each other was something powerful. She had always known that, but seeing just how powerful it truly was, she knew that he was the one she could trust in every situation. He wouldn't disappoint her and he would always be there, as he had proven many times before.

For just a second her body seemed to tense at a thought that rushed through her mind. What would become of him when she passed away? Would he stray through the world and become like the ones they hunted together? Or would he stay with Seras, bound together in something more than she had with him? A single tear ran over her cheek. The thought of being without him, losing him one day and being lost in the darkness without the guiding light he had always been for her. It was too much for that new part of hers that she had just now discovered. Was there a way to stop this? Only one way. She would have to become like him. But would he agree to do it? Would he turn her if she asked or would he insist on living on and fighting the fight her family had always fought? One way or the other...the Hellsing family name would end with her. That much she knew, that much she had realized in this night. For all those years she had never seen a man, had never thought of having a family. And why? Because there was only one man in her life that truly mattered to her.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, more than before. "Alucard...." Just his name, merely a whisper, a plea to look at her. Opening her eye again, she looked down at him, not having noticed the glistening stream the tear had left behind. Her hand on his head slowly moved from his hair, tracing his jaw line before settling on his cheek. No other words were spoken but the look in her eye showed what was going on in her mind.

Beyond the dark lashes pressed together in bittersweet delight... beyond the ravenous beast attempting to claw away at his composure... beyond that last soul that observed with a voyeuristic, vexing persistence... there was a place of peace; of dark tranquility in which he found himself. No one but Integra ever saw this side of him, not even Seras, but perhaps that was because Integra was the only one who truly believed that it even existed...and that was the way he wanted to keep it. Now, as the deep crimson blood of the woman coated his tongue, journeyed past the back of his throat, and percolated inward; penetrated his very being, a vibrant eruption of memories burst forth from that dark and serene place. They were memories of her: Integra. They were his first memories of her, of the first time he’d had the pleasure of taking her blood inside of himself in that abominable dungeon chamber of solitary anguish. Despite the gunshot wound inflicted by her own uncle, despite the threat of being murdered for her family legacy, and despite the ominous creature she had awoken, young miss Hellsing barely showed her attacker so much as a flinch when she stared down the barrel of her uncle’s pistol. Even after her’s was the final fired shot, putting an end to her relative’s life, not even a single tear ever found those cerulean eyes...only strength and perseverance. Her blood was just as invigoratingly sweet then as it was now and of course Alucard was very well aware of the reason why. He knew why and yet….didn’t quite understand it.

All these years...through your blossoming adulthood...why hold back? What are you waiting for… or whom? Are you waiting? ...perhaps saving yourself? ...to what end?

Blood...it was a powerful thing indeed. As the vampire felt himself growing stronger with every second that ticked by, the serrated dentition crept ever so slightly nearer to the wound being tended by his tongue. His breaths fell in steady succession onto the skin of her arm. For a moment, he wasn’t certain how long, he felt lost. The flow of the sanguine fluid was beginning to slowly subside and although it had given him ample amounts of strength, Alucard didn’t want it to stop. In this moment, a moment that felt bitter and punishing like a gust of winter wind, he thought he might lose it...the fight... his dominion over the monster he was. The finger that stroked his own so comfortingly and the digits that played in his dark hair before exploring his face with a steady, trusting hand, were forgotten in that bitter moment.

But it was that procession of memories he held so dear that served to replenish his fortitude. Like a hushed, melodic whisper at the fringes of his conscience, one memory in particular yanked back the chain of those diabolical desires.It was the memory of the first time she truly looked at him with that fearless gaze, clutching a gun still hot from the bullet that killed her uncle, and demandingly asked: “Who are you?” Wait...no...something wasn’t right with this vivid mental cinema. Was this some mistake? In this recollection, a single tear welled between pale lashes of the girl before it broke free and descended the rounded slope of her right cheek. And it was then that the Count could feel her pain. It wasn’t a physical pain that had overcome her so suddenly, no. This was a much different sort of despair and he didn’t just sense it, but could feel it as though their hearts connected and ached as one. Who Are You? And then he understood...understood why she had held back and waited this entire time. The memory faded away with that ethereal phantom whisper haunting his conscience.

At the quiet sound of her voice as she spoke his name, his eyelids sprung open and widened at the sight of the thin trail of telltale moisture upon her right cheek. She had most definitely captured his full attention. Withdrawing himself from the gift she’d given to him (though still with some lingering reluctance), Alucard reached with his free hand to the warm fingers with which she had graced his face all the while giving her other hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. It was still difficult to fathom that any of this was real... That this moment wasn’t simply some dream woven by his own desires… did Integra truly want what he had sensed that she wanted? Weariness and fatigue had receded and the vampire rose to his feet before the woman whose hair bore the majestic likeness of a ray of moonlight. His eyes never left her face, and how could they with such a sight. Long, pale fingers, the slightest degree warmer now, slipped from her hands only to reach out toward the contours of her face. He smelled of the earth itself; of rain on dead leaves in autumn, of damp caverns, warm desert sands just after sunset, air after a lightning storm, of fire, and of ash.

With a careful, tender, sideways swipe of his thumb, he whisked away remnants of that single tear and stared down at her face now ensconced by his hands with a kind benevolence that only she would ever know of him. Lips still tinged with miniscule hints of blood held a sympathetic smile while his heart still quaked with the quiet poems of desire and desperation he now knew her own heart recited as well. If there was anyone on this earth worthy of becoming one of his kin; more so even than Seras, and even much more so than Walter could ever have, then it was Integra. It was something that he had known for a very long time, and now it seemed as though she knew as well. Perhaps she had already made her choice... But would she ask? Would she forfeit her legacy, her proud humanity, and even her soul in the eyes of her faith? It was much to loose indeed...but wasn’t the fear of losing power, losing wealth, and losing divine absolution not also the folly of mankind itself? Though fear wasn’t something he had ever seen the woman take too kindly to. She would ask…it was only a matter of time now.

“Save your tears, Integra….for darker nights than these.” Those deep, rich tones of his voice were strung together calm and soothingly without any lingering trace of exhaustion or greed. Anyone else looking in on this scene would have suspected some underlying, subversive malfeasance, though despite the attributes so akin to his nature, in this very moment, there was no need for such actions...and with Integra, there never would be.

Silver tended to stay awake and roam the estate during the night. It usually wasn't until dawn that the boy fell asleep and was asleep until late morning. And this night would be no different. He was upstairs, wandering the halls aimlessly, just checking that the windows were all closed and locked, as well as still in tact. Any other entry points were sealed off from outsiders; vents, doors, the laundry or incinerator chutes. Anything anyone even his size could slip into. If he was a bad guy, he could've easily fit through the ventilation system in the house and gotten in a thousand times over, since the new butler never checked any of it. It's why Silver was up doing it now. He wanted to make sure that his caretaker and guardian were safe. Plus it put to rest his demons of the past and ease his fearful mind. He still couldn't sleep until the sun was rising, since he knew no vampire could attack when the sun was up. Miss Integra would be awake, as would the resident vampire, to make sure nothing happened to the Hellsing Head while she was up and about. Silver turned a corner and headed down said Head of house's hall. He always walked a little slower in this hallway. Not just to be wary of vampires or any other nightly creatures, but to, without bothering the woman, check up on his caretaker. He could smell the whiskey she drank from earlier, but it wasn't as strong as some nights, so she must've been feeling better tonight. There wasn't any smoke smell, so she didn't have a cigar before going to bed. Which was good in the boy's opinion. They smelled like bitter ash and spice. To him, it was horrible and from what he had learned of them (he'd asked Seras once), they were absolutely terrible for a human's health. Of course, the boy wouldn't say anything to Miss Integra. He knew that could easily be a fatal mistake on his part, but he always made a silent cheer when she snuffed them out before finishing, or just forgot to have one all together. Everything seemed okay for tonight, Silver took one last scent check, to make sure there was nothing. Something caught the boy's attention. He frowned and focused on it. It was like iron and sweat. It reeked of Miss Integra, but it was like raw meat as well. Blood. It was faint, but the boy could smell traces of blood in the air. Her blood. His ears twitched as he realized she was bleeding. Not the kind of blood from her heat, either. He'd made that mistake a while back. Silver had thought she'd been hurt and when asked, was given the response of a bullet grazing past him and a warning. Thankfully Miss Seras had explained later what was happening and that it was normal. He never asked about it again. It was gross anyway.

This blood was fresh, but it didn't carry such a strong scent from Miss Integra, so that meant it was a small wound. Had she cut herself? Maybe a papercut or something from working late. It was possible. With that thought, Silver went to a nearby closet and fished out a first aid kit. He was glad they were in nearly every room of the house.  Casualty of their work. Coming back to the doors to the Master bedroom, Silver could hear voices and guessed she was on the phone with someone, still working at this time of night. He gave a few soft knocks before twisting the door handle. He paused, a small panicked thought said don't go it, but he'd already unlatched the door, he just needed to push it open. "M-Miss Integra...." He said quietly as he did just that. The door swung open enough for the boy to fit through and he entered. "I... I'm sorry. I could smell your blood out in the hallway, and I just wanted to bring you..... the first... aid......kit......" He spoke as he closed the door behind him and turned to face her, intending on giving her the first aid kit to take a bandaid from. However he'd only made it a handful of steps before his voice faltered and his body went pale. His eyes widened, initially with shock, but that soon turned to overwhelmng fear at the sight before him. Ink black hair, fiery crimson eyes, teeth only a true monster could posess. Even the scent hit him like a freight train. The smell of graveyard soil and blood mixed with rage and woods. He knew that smell. There was only one in the world who had that odd of a scent. "...Alucard......." His voice was a breathless whisper. He was back. As if his very name was a curse, Silver's body began shaking uncontrollably, the first aid kit fell from his now limp hands. His heart felt like it turned to stone, his stomach bottomed out. He couldn't breathe, short shallow gasps was all he could manage. His blood rushed with the frantic pusle of his heartbeat, drowning out all other sounds. All this was instantaneous for the boy, and he stood for what felt like hours, staring with wide-eyed, petrified fear. It had only been a handful of seconds and all Silver could do was stutter out. "Y-yo-you...... died...." That was as far as the pup had gotten before his body simply shut down. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he dropped like a stone, hitting the floor with a solid 'Thud'. He was unconscious before his head bounced off the floor.

What would be seen to those unknowing was a creature of the night, the one men feared more than any other of his kind, holding the ashen haired head of House Hellsing in his arms and one might mistake him for an intruder having come to take her blood. But the look of the situation could be so very deceiving. Willingly she had gone into the arms of this beast, had given herself to him to keep him going. Her heart was singing for only him, her soul bound to his in a bond stronger than anything else, a bond so powerful than people couldn't even begin to understand.

His words would send shivers down the spines of anyone hearing it, but to her it was so very different. Every word of his, kind as it were, woke something inside of her, combined with his touch setting ablaze her heart and soul. Leaning just slightly into the gentle touch, she allowed her eye to fall shut for just a moment while she took in this so very familiar scent, a scent she had missed for thirteen years. She welcomed the touch, her mind traveling to the day they had met. From that day on until this very moment she had known that her life would be different, that another path was meant for her.

"There will be no more dark nights." Integra's voice was soft, not as harsh as it used to be, showing something gentle, kind and loving, something only Alucard would ever truly witness. Reaching up her slender fingers once again traced his jawline before she allowed her hand to rest on his chest, just stopping over his heart. There was one thing she knew, one thing no one could ever take away. No matter what would happen, they would return to each other, always finding their way back.

The moment they shared had been peaceful, uninterrupted and had allowed them to disappear into their own world where there was nothing else but them. But peace and quiet didn't last long. And the interruption came in the form of the young werewolf Integra had taken in. A good kid, having found his home with them. She had found the young pup quite useful and had actually come to like him, despite some smaller mistakes. But after all, everyone made mistakes once in a while. Integra had found herself at peace, had been about to ask Alucard the very thing she had been thinking about for so long, but then the door to her bedroom opened.

And there he was, poor pup, getting the shock of his life at the sight of the vampire that was holding his caretaker. Poor thing, just wanted to help and all he got was such a view and maybe a pounding headache. At first Integra hesitated, not wanting the moment to end but of course she couldn't let him stay there on the floor. Letting out a soft sigh she looked at Alucard once again, her head slightly tilted to the left, a few strands of her hair falling over her face. "I should have known he would be awake." She leaned up just slightly, her lips briefly grazing Alucard's once more before she stepped away.

With a few quick steps she had made her way towards Silver, kneeling down next to him. Her one hand moved to lightly ruffle his hair before she pulled him up, the movements possibly being enough to wake the pup again.

Looking down into the eye of the woman whom he once called ‘Master’, the woman who had held his powers in her grasp and who had always held a steadfast grip upon his heart, Alucard knew without a single, lingering flicker of doubt, that things were about to change in ways that he had never anticipated. And how could he have? The changes that were to come had been catalyzed by events long in the past the night on which Integra released him from his dungeon...a plan hashed out by Walter’s traitorous intentions which, in the end, only served to seal his fate as another notch on the Vampire King’s shit list. Hhhmm, perhaps… What if Integra had never felt the need to unseal that dungeon chamber? Or what if she had done so under different circumstances? Would they still be standing here as they were now? Who could say… It was useless to question such things for long. What truly mattered is that all the things that had come to pass lead up to this very moment. Just as he had expressed to Walter triumphantly when they stood as adversaries: ‘They are mine now...mine alone. My dear master, to whom I belong, and my darling servant...Mine to mold. They are lost to you forever.’ At the time it may have served primarily to taunt the duplicitous butler and tear into what little amount of pride he still retained for having played such a vital role in the lives of the two exceptional women. Now, however, Alucard understood that what he had said then was the product of his influential, protective, and dominant nature...an expression of his desire to be a part of their existence indefinitely...and it was that desire that helped him to finally return home. It would always be this way. They were bound: by blood and by something deeper still.

The kindness in her quiet tone caressed his psyche, warm and velveteen as the touch of her skin beneath his fingers and the sensation of her hands upon his own face. The statement woven from her words was spoken with a certain air of confidence very akin to her personality. It served to broaden his smile by just the slightest degree. Those eyes, the rich color of wine, retained their focus steadfast on the features of her face as she weighed the courage of her truth against all the eons of experience the Count had amassed. He wished to believe her...hoped that it would be true… Clearly, time had turned him jaded and cynical and something that felt almost instinctual in nature made him a skeptic of such optimism. It seethed and whispered into the chasm of his conscience, telling him that no matter how dark your darkest moment may be, there may always come one that is darker still…. But that was his truth, and not her’s. The fact that Integra believed it was enough for him; it was all that mattered. It was her truth. He would do his damnedest to make it a reality. Maybe if he could do that, it might eventually become his reality as well.

For a mere moment, it looked as though he wished to speak up again, or perhaps to act upon some other impulse. The desire for something was evidently painted in his fanged smile, the fascinated ruby stare, and the lightly stroking touch of his fingers upon her face. As she moved one hand to lay upon his chest, his own right hand pulled from the tanned cheek and defined jaw only to find its new resting place on top of her elegant digits. That simple touch warmed his heart so much he feared it might melt away. Whatever this desire was, however, fled quickly into the sheltered depths of his mind like a herd of startled deer at dusk and the vampire himself raised his head like the predator that had provoked their panic. Ah yes, how very strange this must have looked to anyone entering upon the present scene which had unfolded within the confines of the Lady Hellsing’s bedroom.

After a succession of short, meek taps, the door opened very slowly. At first, Alucard had suspected that it would be Seras who might be paying a visit to Integra’s sleeping quarters. After all, the Draculina should have picked up on the elder vampire’s familiar energy by now...the key word being should… However, this was not the case at all, and the soft voice that preceded the small-statured adolescent male figure was most definitely not the buxom young woman he expected to see. What? The dog?...Really? Sure, it was quite the surprise and sure, the young werewolf had interrupted a very enjoyable moment, but Alucard honestly couldn’t help but feel somewhat proud of the kid… not only for having survived the hells of that war but for possessing the instinct to know that something here was not quite right...and also for having guts to actually investigate the situation.

Of course none of these sentiments made it to the vampire’s lips…. Not because he didn’t want to verbalize them, but more so because the instant Silver had entered the room and their eyes locked, the pup had started stammering before turning as white as linens...then promptly proceeded to pass out. Thus, Alucard swallowed those words. He wasn’t about to say that he was proud of someone who collapsed into a fleshy heap just at the mere sight of him. What found his features instead was the hint of a grimace when Silver’s head hit the floorboards, chased by a somewhat disappointed sneer. Was it disappointment because it hadn’t been his fledgling to come through that door, or was is disappointment in Silver’s lack of composure that had caused his reaction? The truth was impossible to know with certainty.

Integra’s words pulled at his attention once more and brought his crimson-eyed gaze back to her tired and yet so very patient expression. Judging by what she said, the woman didn’t seem surprised that the young werewolf wandered the halls at night. On the contrary. Perhaps things were a little different now than they had been before… 13 years had passed after all. Gazing down, he reveled in the amount of benevolence she was still capable of even after the arduous journey along a path on which so many had fallen and so many had failed. He felt the axis of her emotions shift like some cosmic, planetary phenomena and while he had been able to captivate her entirely in the moments prior, her focus was now divided between himself and her duties as the werewolf’s caretaker. The Count felt her ambivalence, though once again, failed to quite understand it. What’s the rush? Why not just let him lay there for a few more minutes? What could be the harm in that? Of course he didn’t understand it, or perhaps at one point he did, and had just forgotten how.

When she broke away with a kiss that was perhaps as much of a kiss as a whisper was a spoken word, Alucard wasn’t caught off guard as he had been the first time. No… Although it was received with the same spectral elusiveness as the moonlit mist drifting over the grass in the gardens outside, the Vampire watched it happen in near slow motion and leaned in to the gesture the slightest amount. In that instant, he wondered if she could detect the minute, still lingering flavor of her own blood… In that instant, he knew that regardless of whether or not it had been his intention, he had crept into her heart and already made himself right at home. But what would happen if he’d let her do the same? Would she drown in the darkness? Be poisoned by it? Become a lover to his nightmares? He tried to shake off the plague of thoughts as his gaze followed her while she moved to the werewolf heap on the floor beside the doorway.

“OOOHHH! He is just like a tiny version of ze Captain!!! I vant to play vis him!!!” And back it came again, that vexing voice of Schrödinger that shattered all the delicately filigreed elegance of the moment like some senseless bastard using priceless Fabergé eggs as clay pigeons for target practice.

Alucard cringed momentarily, then shoved the loquacious soul back into the closet of his thoughts until the dialogue became a monologue again. Licking both the last dwindling hints of blood and traces of that ghostly kiss from his lips, he stepped toward the woman who had bent down to tousle Silver’s platinum locks. He watched her long ashen strands fall over her shoulder when she leaned down to scoop him up from the ground in hopes of waking him. The deep red hem of the long red coat swayed just above his ankles as he approached step by graceful, fluid step. “Well, it looks like some things really haven’t changed much. I was going to tell him that I’m surprised to see he’s still alive…”
The resonant sound of his deep voice broke off momentarily. The undeniable scent of the werewolf now overpowered the sweet bouquet of Integra’s blood that had taken up residence on his palate previously. His senses hadn’t been assaulted by that smell in such a long time, surely he’d have to get used to it again. Bitter and acrid, it settled in the back of his throat and caused him to swallow hard before he could speak again. When he did, the Vampire had closed the distance and leaned forward to look into the face of the unconscious werewolf pup who, despite the 13 years which had passed, looked like he had maybe only aged a few years at best. “...But…. I may have spoken too soon…”

Of course he knew full well that the pup had merely fainted, yet there was some strangely, playfully sadistic amusement the Crimson Count had always derived from the notions of fear that lashed out from the small werewolf whenever they stood in each other's presence. At last, held sportively in place by Integra’s arms, Alucard reached a hand out toward Silver to swipe away some of the platinum hair that fell over the pup’s facial features. He wasn’t used to this entire concept of freedom just yet. Not having his fingers imprisoned by gloves filled him with a somewhat capricious urge to touch nearly everything just for the sake of exploration. Or perhaps he just wanted to get a curious glimpse of the scar that blemished Silver’s otherwise innocent, teenage features...or maybe he wanted to catch the panic that would surely surge through the young creature the moment those eyes fluttered open with the first signs of regained consciousness.

Warm. That was the first thing Silver noticed. He hadn't even realized that he had been cold in the first place. Why? Shakily, the pup sucked in a deep breath and scowled. Why did it smell like smoke and ash? There was something else too. A sweet, but spicy scent..... whiskey. Smoke and whiskey. What smelled like smoke and whiskey. Hellsing. Miss Integra smelled like smoke and whiskey. And she was warm. Was she holding him? Why? Why was it so dark? The boy screwed up his face and tried to move. He squirmed and pushed, gently, against the source of warmth that was Miss Integra's body. He tried to sit up on his own and was met with a sudden and near crippling throb of pain radiating from his skull. It was enough to draw out a groan from the werepup. He brought a hand up to the side of his head, hoping to ease the throbbing pressure by pushing back. Another hand was playing with his hair and it kept brushing the strands into his eyes. Without looking, Silver pushed the hand away, not realizing to whom it belonged to.

"M-Miss Integra...?" He asked quietly. Finally opening his eyes, Silver looked up at the woman in confusion. Now that he was waking up some, he realized that both of the Hellsing Head's arms were both wrapped around him to keep him propped up. So that meant there was someone else. Did she call Miss Seras? Was he unconscious that long for her to appear? The boy turned to see the vampiress, but was met with another sight completely. A large pale hand still hung close to his face, dressed in a crimson sleeve that traveled down the length of a long, well tailored arm, shoulder and soon to eyes as bright as the coat the only one Silver knew would wear such a thing. The forboding feeling that slowly tightened at the boy's throat, as if someone else was pressing down on it reached it's peak upon meeting the vampire's eyes. It held there as the boy pushed back into Integra, trying to give some distance between them and the true monster before them, but something in him snapped. His eyes flashed for almost a second, too fast for any normal being, such as human, to see.

His hand lashed out, swiping his small clawed paw at the nearby arm before pushing himself from Integra and bolting to the opposite side of the room. If nothing else, they were long and sharp enought to tear through the fabric of the vampire's coat along his forearm and wrist, lest he actually rend flesh and draw blood from Alucard, himself. Silver was trembling like a chihuahua in Alaska, even his short pants came in ragged spurts. His eyes were wide with fear. He hunched down on all fours, slowly backing away from the vampire until he'd backed himself against the bookcase clear across the room from where he just was. He'd all but cornered himself between the bookshelf and the wall adjacent, where the windows were. He never once took his eyes from Alucard's as he continued to curl into himself and back against the shelf and wall, hoping one would simply move to allow him the space to flee.

A low chuckle escaped her when she heard Alucard's words but there was a look in her eyes that showed that she wasn't too happy with this interruption. Instead she would have preferred the moment of privacy with the one she had chosen all those years ago. If onl they could have shared more time before the pup had chosen to enter the room. But she knew she should have expected him to react to the scent of blood. He really was going to become a good protector one day. But fainting at the sight of a powerful vampire...that was something that needed a bit more work. Long, ashen strands of her hair fell over her face as she turned her head just enough to peer at him through a curtain of her hair. "Poor thing has to get used to you again, it seems." Despite the kindness of her words, her tone showed that she was clearly quite amused by his words and the pup's reaction.

When the pup began to wake, pulling away from her, Integra pulled her arms away from him to let him move. Before she could even say another word, she already got to see Silver's next reaction to the return of her Count, a reaction that didn't find her approval. While her eyes followed every move the young werewolf made, she gracefully rose to her feet and moved to Alucard's side, slender fingers touching his arm. In the way she looked up at the man others could only see as a monster, even the pup could see that there was much more. She didn't give him a look a master would give a servant or a handler to a beast. That look of hers was not only holding admiration but something much deeper, something the young werewolf maybe didn't even understand. "I should apologize for his...behavior, my Count."

Staying close by her Count's side, her hand still resting on his arm with that so very gentle touch, Integra turned to look at the werewolf once again. And what had been admiration and warmth before turned into a look that showed something of controlled anger and frustration. But that look was also serious....very serious. Oh dear sweet pup, not such a good move to strike him. For just a moment she did show kindness and understanding for his reaction, but that look quickly changed to the look a disapproving mother would give a misbehaving child. "Silver, calm down. Everything is alright in here and nothing bad will happen unless you try to strike him again." Her tone was serious, yet kind in a way, showing him that she wanted him to relax, that she wouldn't let anything happen to him but that striking Alucard would have consequences.

Things never seemed to stay quiet for very long in this household… When they weren’t being harassed by the Iscariots or under attack by supernatural trash, or in need of some meeting to discuss funding then surely there would be some other thing yet that would make serene and quiet moments a rare luxury. The sounds of Integra’s chuckle and the lighthearted tone of her voice was like music to his ears. Even though this little interruption obviously peeved her a bit, the vampire was glad he was still capable of tickling her sense of humor none the less.
As the werepup slowly stirred, mumbling a few slurred syllables in his state of disorientation, Alucard got a better look at the still youthful face. The scar that streaked across his eye from forehead to cheek looked well healed by now, though it would surely never fade entirely. It would be a blemish on his pale flesh his entire lifetime; a daily reminded of that night his entire family was massacred by the vampires in Badrick. The soft, platinum tips of Silver’s hair danced over his fingers until he finally realized what was happening. When werewolf and vampire locked eyes, the crimson Count witnessed the abject fear that manifested within them...but there was something else there as well… Something that captured the elder vampire’s attention so completely that he didn’t even bother pulling his arm out of the pup’s reach when he began to struggle against Integra’s hold. What Alucard had observed was something he had never observed in the young creature before. Sure, fear and terror still held a firm, oppressive grasp on the boy, that much was visibly obvious...But for a brief moment Alucard saw something beyond that fear in his eyes. It was like a momentary flash of resistance, perseverance or maybe even courage. Well hello there. This is new… He thought to himself and a crooked little smirk nearly found his lips...nearly…

The sharp, claw-like fingernails that grew from the werepup’s thin fingers swiped across his forearm, tearing through the thick red textiles of the coat’s sleeve and into the black jacket beneath it. Any more force and he probably could have raked clean through and drawn blood...but this wasn’t an action driven by a vicious intent. Still, this action was an unacceptable one especially considering the circumstance. It all happened so very quickly. Silver wiggled free from Integra’s hold and crawled backward defensively until he had the safety of a solid wall at his back. Alucard was rather glad of it too, though no hint of such relief could be found within the deadpan expression. For just a brief moment, he glanced to the shredded fabric before those Crimson eyes darted back to the pup as he moved away. Eyelids narrowed slightly into a stern glare. A faint glow like rekindled embers sparked around the predatory pupils.
He reached out and swiped the med-kit from the floor before he stood, keeping his glare trained on the young werewolf like a sniper preparing to take that crucial shot at their mark. It seemed unlikely that Silver would lash out again unless pursued and provoked. The vampire wasn’t in the mood for that sort of play-time. Not now at any rate. Given some rest and a bit more sustenance, he’d happily chase that smelly little albino werewolf from one corner of the estate to the other until he was blue in the face… But for now, he simply rose to his feet and looked to Integra as she moved to stand by his side. Beneath the touch of her hand against his arm, the red and black fabrics alike had already began to mend themselves as though threads of dense shadow were gradually stitching them back together again.

The gentle expression on the woman’s face eased his tension the smallest degree and he couldn’t retain the same chilling severity when he made eye contact with her. The calm, respectful tone of her voice soothed him, though the actual words themselves almost sounded foreign in a way that caused his eyebrow to twitch with sly curiosity. Did you just apologize to me? He didn’t say it out loud, but he didn’t really need to because his countenance practically screamed the internalized inquiry. When in the seven hells was the last time that happened? No use pondering that right now. There was something that needed to be taken care of. The Count slowly shook his head at his lady beside him before turning toward her. The admonishing look in her eye when she addressed Silver was quite a familiar one. Ah yes, that commanding woman was still very much alive...and was speaking a fair share of truth. After all, everyone knows what so often happens to dogs when they bite the hand that feeds.

Sweeping some of the long, pale strands of hair aside, he laid one hand upon her shoulder as the other held the little med kid out for her to take.
“No, Integra. You shouldn’t be the one to apologize for his behavior.” Alucard gave her shoulder a gentle yet affirmative squeeze before turning his head to aim that dagger-glare back at Silver who had now huddled himself between the bookshelf and the wall as best as he could. “He’s not a whelp anymore, so he’s very capable of understanding what he is doing.” Finally the Count withdrew his hand from her shoulder only to point those pale, dexterous digits of his toward Silver, who now once again seemed to take the spotlight on the grandiose stage of Alucard’s concentration. “If anything, it’s him I want to hear an apology from.” His voice was beginning to shift from the smooth, composed warmth with which he had addressed Integra, to something more akin to the quality of a resonant, cautionary growl. When he stepped away from the elegant figure of the tall, slender woman, he still couldn’t believe she had apologized to him...especially for something she had no need apologize for. This behavior wasn’t going to be excused or reinforced and that werepup wouldn’t step so much as a toe out of the room until things were set quite straight.

The hem of the red coat swayed at the back of his calves with each step like the ebb and flow of rhythmic waves in an ocean of blood. It was a gradual approach and he wouldn’t close the distance all the way, not yet at least. “So then, runt. I want to hear you say it.” Another slow step. “A scratch like that can turn even a fit human quite ill...and a bite would be highly infectious.” Yet another gradual step as he inched closer, that low rumble of a voice seemingly seeping from the very walls themselves. “Lashing out at me so close to your master; your human caretaker…” His voice broke off momentarily as he ceased his approach, staring down at the young werewolf with eyes that seemed to burn in the darkness of the room with an air of almost hypnotic governance that would hold the adolescent’s gaze fixed and unwavering even if he wished to look away. “Let’s hear it then, werewolf. My patience is wearing awfully thin, so I would spit it out if I were you.”

If his words were forged from a genuine desire to preserve Integra’s safety and honor, then it was concealed very well behind the austere gravity of his present demeanor.

The boy pressed himself further into the corner, curling tighter into himself.  His breathing was shaky and erratic, even more so than before. His trembling had only increased from first awakening. He didn't see when Miss Integra had gotten up or moved. Silver recognized her voice when she said something, but he couldn't decipher the words. His focus was soley on the vampire before him. He could hear the rustle of Alucard's clothes as he moved, he could hear the blood flowing through his system, despite there not being a heart beat. The faint echo of his boots gently clicking against the hardwood floor radiated like gunshots to Silver. Not once did he break eye contact with Alucard as the vampire loomed over him. There was no where for the boy to run to for safety. He had effectively cornered himself for the sake of not having his back open. A sound enough tactic.... if he was actually any good at combat. However the boy was not, so a cornered animal, he was. He saw the hand reaching out for him again and pressed further against the wall behind him. He was almost sitting upright at this point, trying to create as much distance between himself and the elder monster before him.

The moment Alucard stopped his advance, Silver started whimpering. His voice was gone, any cognitive reactions were all but out the window. Panic, fear and the need for survival had overridden the boy's toughts and senses. His shaking was rattling his bones as if he were the only one feeling an earthquake. Alucard was going to kill him and there wouldn't be even a chance of anything the pup could do about it. In nothing short of pure desperation, the boy reared back and bit down onto the hand that kept him in place. He bit down as hard as he could, trying to sink his teeth deeper and deeper into flesh and bite through bone (when he really was only leaving mild indents in Alucard's skin, not enough to break even human skin). He shook his head a few times, in a meek attempt to thrash the vampire's hand and arm, but all it turned out to be were small tugs. Not even strong enough to move a child.

Closing his eyes, terrified, Silver started keening in the back of his throat. His hands stopped clawing and pushing away from Alucard, instead now gripping the vampire's wrist like it was a life line. His trembling turned to shaking as his body was wracked with the force of his now sobbing. He bit down once more, softer this time, teething and licking at the skin of Alucard's hand, as an unspoken apology. Silver had no idea what to do, the Alpha was the protector of the pack, he guarded their home, yet the one he knew as Alpha was the same being that terrified him more than anything else that walked through this life or the next. With no other options left, he called for help. He called for protection. He called for his Alpha as his keening grew louder. His body curled into itself, burying his face into Alucard's hand.

Oh you know it. Of course I did. Well, she did feel like she had to apologize, since the young werewolf was in a way her child after she had taken him in. He was part of the family and as Matriarch she did feel responsible for the actions of those under her care. But that was something not many knew since she didn't show it at all. Apologies from her were a rare thing, very rare and until she had started to take in some of the very beasts her family used to fight for so many years, she hadn't really seen a reason for it. Oh Alucard, what have I become because of you? Was it you who started me on this path or did I choose it without help?

Ashen hair flicked from side to side when she shook her head at her own thoughts, aiming to get them out of the way for the time being to focus on the matter at hand. Slender fingers brushed a few strands of her hair out of her face while she still looked up at Alucard, the one man that others only saw as a monster but who was so much more to her. Feeling his hand on her shoulder she seemed to relax just slightly. If only those moments would last. If only there were no interruptions. Her one hand slowly reached out to take the med kit from him, smiling at him. No words came over her lips but there were no words needed in this moment. He knew what was going on in her mind, that she did feel responsible for the pup's actions.

While he focused on Silver, she turned her attention to the cut on her arm. Oh sweet memory, why did the moment have to end so soon? Just the thought of his tongue on her flesh reminded her of the moment she had chosen to not only give herself to him but to also confess her feelings in not many words. Had he always known or was it something new to him? For just a moment she struggled to steady herself, not from the blood loss but the intensity of her own emotions that suddenly hit her once again, something she was not used to just yet. After all she had hidden it for such a long time and didn't allow herself to feel that way. Oh how much had changed in just a short time, in just a single night. With just a few moves she had wrapped a bandage around the cut on her arm and had her attention turned to the scene before her, her tone quiet yet the same as it had always been, not so much kind as almost cold and serious. "He may have grown, yet he is still under my care. Therefor I am responsible for his actions."

Just after those few words had left her mouth, she went silent again. Standing tall, with a slight breeze from the open window causing her hair to move, feathering around her face, she watched the two beasts, her eye following every move. In complete silence she stood still as a statue, ever watchful. But that didn't last long. Having observed mainly the young werewolf to see how he would react, she of course saw what he was doing. And her reaction showed so very clear what she thought of that.

The moment his teeth clamped down on Alucard's hand for the first time, she tensed like a beast ready to pounce. And every so graceful step she made allowed her to prowl closer until she stood right next to them. Very much towering over the pup in his current position, the light in the room cast a shadow over him while she looked down at him with that cold, disapproving look. Even when the situation began to change she heard the pup give in and apologize in his own way, she didn't move. Poor thing, so lost. While Silver couldn't see her expression, couldn't even guess what she was thinking, there was one person who knew. Of course her dear Count would know what she was thinking, that she didn't approve of the behavior. But he could sense a hint of insecurity. Not because she was scared or nervous. She simply was unsure how to deal with something like that. How a dog would be treated when biting was easy, how a misbehaving child would be treated was something she didn't really know. And both of those things together...that left her very unsure.

After what seemed like hours, even though it had only been a few minutes, the ashen haired woman finally spoke, her tone serious, demanding the pup's attention in just a few words. And those words were not friendly. They were an order that showed that thing were not over for him yet. "Let go, Silver. Now."

As he stepped toward Silver, he could feel the tension building in the young creature, he could hear the heartbeat pounding so furiously it seemed like the kid should have been running a marathon. Fear radiated outward from the small werewolf in every imaginable way. He could smell it, taste it in the atmosphere, and feel it push against the palm of his now outstretched hand. It was like touching a cloud of cold fog; that clammy and chilling yet elusive moisture that settles and lingers just enough to produce a sense of unease but lacks the tangibility to be moved or manipulated. Fear...it was a cruelly invasive, intrusive thing...blinding, incapacitating, wholly enveloping... it had definitely consumed the pup in one snack-sized bite and was now having its way with him.

He could have stopped himself. Hell, he probably should have stopped and just let him run along to play another day...It would have been the sensible thing to do. However, Alucard was not such a sensible creature. As a matter of fact, he thought he was actually going rather easy on Silver right about now… Bullets hadn’t started flying, vital organs were still in tact, and he hadn’t even really raised his voice too much yet either. As far as Alucard was concerned, this was an impressive display of docility on his behalf. Just behind him, he could hear the tearing of medical tape when Integra finished dressing the small cut. The memory of the taste of her blood against his lips and the words that drifted to his ears lent a fleeting instant of distraction between his growled words and his motion to grab at the werepup. She was always so eager to take responsibility. Perhaps part of what she had said was true...it had been her initial agreement with Seras to spare Silver’s life and take him in under their care. But despite that, no matter how Integra wanted to step up and take the blame for this, it wasn’t entirely her fault...possibly not even half-way...and the part that wasn’t her blame to take needed correcting before it could grow into a nasty habit. What took place next seemed to happen in a succession of nearly still images, or, at the very least, a succession of moments that passed so languidly it felt as though they would never end.

Eyelids widened with evident surprise when the boy’s head reared back not to pull away from his touch as he had first suspected. No. The vampire watched the small jaws part and lips pull backward from white rows of teeth that would only become more dangerous with age. Was he actually going through with this? Was he?! Apparently he REALLY wanted to find out what it was like to wake up after a 2 hour blackout wearing a cone of shame and missing some precious components from his manly-bits….

Teeth sank down onto the vampire’s cold hand, which was large enough to fit the werepup’s entire face between the grip of splayed fingers. He watched Integra’s shadow fall over Silver’s trembling figure as she came closer. Her heartbeat had quickened, though didn’t race nearly as erratically as the boy’s. A quick glance darted across the length of his broad shoulder to where she had stopped just within the field of his peripheral vision. Another bout of pressure registered across the back of his hand as the pup bit down again. Honestly… that can’t possibly taste good. He thought for the flash of an instant. Though truth be told, he’d never concerned himself with how a vampire’s blood might register on a werewolf’s palate. The Count was certain that the honorable Integra Hellsing knew better than to reach between her two supernatural creatures unless she risk being bitten as well... but the concern still jabbed at the perennial, protectiveness he exhibited for the woman.

Alucard lifted his other hand without even looking to Silver at first, sure that he was going to find those teeth gouging deep lacerations into his flesh. The vampire was preparing to wrap his fingers around that werewolf’s little neck and squeeze until either Integra told him to stop or until he would hear a reaffirming succession of snaps, pops and crunches...maybe some gurgling if he was lucky…However, once those garnet eyes that burned with disappointment and contempt focused on the appendage that Silver was pathetically trying to shake between his jaws; his appendage, he quickly came to realize that the boy hadn’t even managed to draw a single drop of blood. None at all...He hadn’t even broken the skin...and the moisture he’d interpreted as his own blood was nothing more than a bit of werewolf slobber. Alucard managed to stop himself at the last second. That hand that was headed straight for Silver’s throat stopped just short of him, tensed slowly into a loose fist, then twitched open again one finger after another.

That noise...that bizarre, high pitched wheeze of submission. It shared similarities to the frightened, whimpered pleas from just mere moments ago, but yet the meaning behind this para-linguistic element was quite a bit different. Alucard’s dark eyebrow twitched ever so slightly under unruly strands of black hair and much like Integra, he felt very unsure about all of this. When the young werewolf gripped desperately at his wrist though moments ago it fell victim to those claws, the old vampire’s head tilted the slightest degree to the side. He felt like he was watching some really bizarre nature documentary right about now, except that somehow and for some reason, he happened to be in it as well. Finally, Alucard pulled a breath into his lungs and exhaled as though releasing the inner pressure his raging temperament had been painfully building. A bit of training… that’s all he needs. He thought as he watched Silver lick at his hand in apology as though he had committed a mortal sin. It was then that the Count reached out that other hand of his, still frozen in place, and delivered a light pat of reassurance to the crown of the young lycanthrope’s head of platinum hair. Despite the myriad of atrocities Alucard had committed over the span of centuries, he was still quite capable of being sympathetic. A bit of training and a firm hand…

“Oooo! Hahahahaha! A firm hand! Because ze tiny Captain is chewing on yours! I get it now! Herr Graf, your jokes are too funny!!! Can it be my turn next, ja? I have some good ones too!” It was like that pestering voice in the back of his mind was jabbing him repeatedly in the ribs with a bony, invasive finger. Alucard wanted to face-palm. Enough already. Enough...

But the Count didn’t get to finish that thought, because Integra’s voice came to his aid and plucked the words he was about to say right from his mind and verbalized them in a single, firmly spoken command. At last, he turned his head to fully witness her, and a small yet undeniably present smile parted his lips over those predatory teeth. “Now I feel like I’m the one who owes you an apology, Miss Hellsing. Seems like I caused quite a bit of commotion.” Perhaps he was trying to warm her mood the slightest degree, or maybe it was just that growing smile that lent his words an air of playful mischief.

Silver clung to Alucard's wrist, head still buried into the vampire's hand. His keening turned to sobbing and sniffling; a sign that he was beginning to descend from his heightened ride of terror and adrenaline. At least that ear splitting whine had stopped. He was still beyond fear and desperation enough, that he couldn't move. It would've taken an act of God... or his death to get him to release Alucard's arm at this point. He knew there was no coming back from what he had done. He had not only lashed out in panic, but had further dug his own grave by biting Alucard and 'challenging' him. He fully expected the other male to crush his skull with just a twitch of his fingers. Alucard's hand certainly was large enough. His palm alone covered almost from ear to ear, across Silver's face. Or he could snap his neck, rip his head from his shoulders, tear out his heart... Hell, the man could probably kill him just by throwing him hard enough into the wall if he really wanted to. The only issue with that would be the clean up afterwards. It didn't matter how he went about it, it was just a matter of when Alucard wanted. The sudden contact to the top of his head, not only shattered the boy's train of thought, but had him nearly jumping out of his skin. A small cry of both surprise and (you guessed it) fear escaped the boy before he could catch it.Silver flinched, curling into himself to shrink away from the contact. As much as Silver was certain he was going to die this, he still wished he wouldn't.

The pup never lasted more than a few minutes when he properly cried. It just exhausted him too quickly. His breathing hitched when he heard Miss Integra's commanding voice. He registered the order and took in a deep, yet shaky breath. Swallowing hard, he tried to steady his breathing and nodded slowly. It took a few moments for the boy to regain blood flow in his hands before he let go His fingers twitched a few times before his hands slowly lessened their grip until he was able to slip from his perch and drop to the floor. He landed on all fours, sitting very much like the canine he was. Silver had dropped between Alucard's feet, oddly enough leaning against his shins for contact. If the vampire king needed to move, he would have to step back to have any space. Had Silver any more canine type features (aside from claws, eyes and teeth) he would've certainly had his tail tucked between his legs, while his head hung low. The poor boy was still shivering like no tomorrow. He wouldn't bring himself to look up from where he sat.

The boy sat quietly as he waited for something akin to Alucard's boot slamming into his head, or the sound of his handgun cocking a bullet ready to happen. He closed his eyes again, shrinking into himself. The wait was almost as bad as the violent and bloody end he was expecting. Silver was almost suffocating with the anticipation. His breathing had settled into short, quiet breaths, only shivering along with the rest of him. Slowly he lifted one hand and brought it to his face, rubbing at his eyes to wipe away the tears that had yet to fall. "...'m.... s-ry..." Despite Silver's attempt to properly apologize, his voice could only muster a small squeak of an apology, just barely above a whisper. Easily heard by those with supernatural senses, but it was just barely there. He knew it was useless to even say, but he really hadn't meant to lash out and hurt Alucard. Silver didn't understand why he'd lashed out the way he did. Was his fear of Alucard ingrained that deep into his instincts? Where the need for survival consumed him completely? He'd become little more than a cornered dog, acting as any stray or abused canine would. The only time Silver ever lost control like that was when he suffered from his lunar changes.... even then, the boy never knew what happened. He just couldn't remember.

What was going on in his mind? He had been such a well behaved boy before. This situation definitely was something completely new to Integra and she had yet to figure out a way how to properly deal with it in case it would happen again. That stern glare, more like a disapproving and angry mother, still remained focused on the werepup until she finally saw him move and obey the command given to him. Slender fingers reached for the pup to lightly ruffle his hair, showing him that she did acknowledge his response to the order and that she was glad he had done so. A very firm hand and training. Oh yes, that was exactly what was needed. But what had even happened to turn things around in such a way?

A soft sigh escaped her lips while her other hand ran through her hair, brushing a few strands out of her face. Now the exhaustion began to show. After all she hadn't slept that much before her beloved Count had found his way to her. But even in her exhausted state, Alucard's words made her smile. What a strange sight. So angry and strict in one moment, but only a few words from him and she seemed to turn completely, two sides of the same coin. The strict and serious woman people knew, commanding and a born leader, but also the other side...a gentle and loving woman, a woman only Alucard had ever seen before. But clearly in this night it was hard for her to actually hide it...or maybe she didn't want to hide it anymore. Her hand slowly moved a few strands of her hair behind her ear and a soft chuckle escaped her lips while she finally lifted her head to look at her Count once again, showing him a smile only he would ever understand. "Without his urge to come to my aid, there wouldn't have been a commotion, Alucard."

And once those words had left her lips, her eye focused on the werepup between them. Oh boy, you're in trouble now, puppy. Big, big trouble. Once again her hand reached for him, but not to pat his head this time. The young werewolf could feel the slender fingers of his caretaker grab him by his neck, much like a trainer would grab a pup by the scruff of its neck. While the grip was still gentle in a way, it was a firm one, showing very clearly that she wasn't done yet. She not only forced him up, but also out of the door and into the hallway. Only there she stopped for a moment, thinking in silence before she proceeded to drag him through the building. Where was she taking him? To his room of course.

In front of the door to Silver's room, she stopped and opened it. During this whole time of walking, she had been silent and it was not a good silence. After all that time with her, Silver would know that this much silence from her was not good, especially when she was angry. Without a word she pushed him inside, shooting him a glare. "I appreciate your fast reaction on smelling blood. But if you strike or bite Alucard again, this arrangement is over and you will be on your own. And for this night and the following, you will not set foot into the hallway with the master bedroom. Take this time to recover. But most importantly, think of a way to really apologize to Alucard." No more words after that, not so much as a glance. That was all he got after she had spoken his punishment and warned him about the consequences should it happen again. The door fell shut behind her and the pup was alone again.

Quick steps carried Integra back to her own bedroom and once she had slipped inside again, she closed the door. Still silent she stepped towards Alucard and rested a hand on his arm to get his attention in her wordless way, showing him a tired but also happy smile.