Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! I’m broke because I’m not making any money off of this. So don’t sue. I have no money to give you anyway.

 

Insomnia

 

3 am found Seras restlessly wandering the halls of Hellsing Manor like a ghost. Though tired—exhausted—she couldn’t sleep. Plagued by doubts about her humanity, her very being, the young vampire’s mind relentlessly prohibited rest.

She wouldn’t drink. She couldn’t. Her body screamed for blood, but her conscience denied her. What difference did it make that the blood was donated and came in neat little medical packets? It was…unnatural.

Seras’ musings came to an abrupt halt outside Sir Integra’s chambers. Images of her previous discovery flashed through her mind, unsettling and highly absurd memories. Integra had been chair-bound on her balcony, Alucard standing beside her. The silent intimacy of the scene had been awkward, to say the least. Not to mention jealousy-inducing. The idea of her master bound to another, as she was to him, disturbed her greatly. Sir Integra’s hold over Alucard was unique, and deep down, Seras knew she could never compete.

She looked up quickly, realizing she’d lingered in the door way too long in her memories. Sir Integra was watching her from within. Seras ducked her head, thankful she could not physically blush anymore.

“My apologies, Sir Integra. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Seras turned to leave, silently berating herself for her foolishness.

“Wait. You may come in, Seras. That is, if it is not disturbing you?” Integra’s voice lifted a little, her version of witty banter. Seras managed to wipe the dumbfounded deer-caught-in-the-headlights look off her face before entering.

Integra’s chambers were sparse, but elegant. Obviously, the woman favored green, from the drapes over her bed and the curtains. The famed ice-queen herself stood on her balcony, overlooking the city like some protector goddess’ perch. Integra was in a state of dishabille Seras found more than a little unnerving. Her normally crisp white shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, revealing the dark column of her neck. She was barefoot underneath the dark green trousers she usually wore. A cup of steaming liquid rested between her ungloved hands. All in all, Seras didn’t know whether to be frightened or humbled. She was quite sure no one had seen her general as such for a very long time.

“Would you like some tea? I haven’t made any yet, but there’s hot water there on the table.” She saw Seras idly eyeing her cup. “Lemon.” She answered the unasked question. Seras declined the offer, but stood beside Sir Integra, curiously watching her watch the city. “Tell me, Seras. Do you regret giving your life to Alucard?” The question was so random and intrusive, Seras was momentarily speechless. Did she regret it? Certainly she acted as though she did.

“No, I don’t.” Integra snorted ungracefully. “But I fear it.” At this, Integra studied her young soldier carefully, gauging her expression, her sincerity.

“You should. Inevitably it will rob you of your humanity. You cannot hold out for long, Seras. Like it or not, you are not human anymore. You require blood.” She watched, fascinated, as Seras ducked her head in anger. How obvious the child was, despite her attempts to hide her feelings.

“Leaving behind my human body does not mean relinquishing my humanity. Sir.” She added the title almost as an afterthought. Integra nodded, silently acknowledging Seras’ irritation. The girl continued. “As long as I remember who I am, where I come from and what I’m doing, I’ll stay me.” Several minutes of silence followed, making her question how much Integra was truly listening. She was about to excuse herself when Integra began speaking again.

“Where do you come from?” Seras smiled sadly to think of her old home, her father and…life.

“I grew up with my dad in the city. He was with the police too.” Smiling, she recounted the times she anxiously awaited her father’s return home from work each evening when she was little. She would run and launch herself at his feet; he would laugh and swing her up into the air. Often, when they went out, he would carry her on his shoulders. She lived with him until she was 16. Seras still recalled vividly the night she waited, and he never came home. Integra was silent, her expression immobile as she continued to stare at the city below.

“You became a police officer for your father, then?” Integra asked. Seras hadn’t really thought of it like that.

“I guess, maybe. I thought of it more as being inspired by him.” She looked to Integra, who was stoic as usual. Seras almost stomped her foot in frustration. Didn’t she react to anything?

“We have something in common then.” Integra fixed a less icy gaze on Seras. “Both of us continue our fathers’ legacies.” As Seras absorbed that seemingly profound bit of information, she realized Integra had not said much at all.

“What was your father like, Sir Integra?” Seras was genuinely interested in knowing more about the shadow haunting every decision in the house. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked to her as though Integra’s countenance might have slightly thawed.

“He taught me everything I know.” Integra said quite softly. Again the pointed look. “However, I guess I still have much to learn.” Seras felt this comment was directed solely to her but didn’t press the issue. She had a feeling there were no playful fights or exciting strolls through the parks and city for Integra. For a moment, her faint resentment gave way to compassion.

“What about your mother?” Seras immediately wished she hadn’t asked. Integra’s face, the epitome of silk-covered stone perfection, fell into its usual hardness.

“Another legacy—of the Empire. She died giving birth to me. The trip from India was too much for her.” But would never be too much for you, would it Sir? “You’ll find blood packs in the cooler in the downstairs kitchen. The cooler is blue, easily marked. Drink before you sleep.” It was dismissal. But not an unkind one, Seras thought. For so long, she’d been wary of Sir Integra, afraid of her bite. In reality, Integra had much more to fear from Seras! But perhaps living with a vampire for the better half of a decade changed one’s attitude toward fear. Seras stood at attention before exiting, her mind eased a little, though her thoughts were churning. Perhaps now she understood a little more Alucard’s attraction to his master. Or at least why he chose to remain bound to her. There was something in Integra tonight she’d never seen before. One last glance at the balcony showed Integra still standing silently, perhaps herself too worried to dream. Some of her walls had come down—not broken, but willingly lowered.

Seras made her way to her underground chambers. The bare walls of her room bothered her more and more each day. She would have to put some pictures up. Integra surely wouldn’t mind. But then, that woman was complicated. Seras thought she couldn’t be surprised anymore, after joining Hellsing as one of the undead. Integra managed to break that notion. As her eyes drifted closed, Seras thought about the blood she was told to drink. A direct order, it seemed. One she couldn’t obey yet. Perhaps given time, it would be like Integra said. She’d lose herself and give in to her nature. For a long time, she’d wondered if that had happened to Sir Integra. Had she lost her humanity, somewhere along the way, amongst the ashes of vampires and ghouls, the bodies of her dead men? Seras shrugged, thinking it wasn’t any of her business. Sir Integra was a good leader and the master of a powerful vampire. Perhaps those were the only qualifications she needed. Seras sighed once before losing consciousness in an untroubled sleep.

On the second floor, Integra still stood at her balcony, her cup cold and the lemon ruined. Not for the first time, she thought of her father, of his strength, his intelligence. His devotion to the mission. She’d barely known him beyond that. After his death, she’d gone on to be raised by the Angel of Death and a monster. The latter appeared behind her. She couldn’t hear or see him, she just knew.

“What do you want?” She asked quietly. He snickered and drew beside her, the tails of his red duster seemingly unaffected by the breeze. She was struck by how insubstantial he really was. Just as her father was beginning to become.

“Reminiscing with the police girl?” His tone was gently mocking. Integra remained silent. His jester’s grin faded, to be replaced by the solemn smile she rarely saw. Without another word, he remained beside her, the two of them watching over the unknowing city. A master and a monster—neither of which could tell who was who anymore.