A/N:  This is a sort of companion one-shot to my fic Pan’s New Flute.  Does some explaining, I hope. 

 

Before She Woke Up

 

Senior Officer Victoria walked through the door and dropped his hat on the nearest chair, along with his briefcase.  On second thought, he moved the case to the top shelf of a closet, shoving it behind some old shoes.

            “Dad!” A human canon launched itself at his waist.  Laughing, he picked up his only daughter and lifted her in his arms.  “How was Scotland?”  She asked him, but what she was really doing was fishing for souvenirs.  An eleven year old was never more curious.  Victoria had been in Scotland for the past week, and wanted to forget the whole ugly business.             

            “Scotland was beautiful, darling.”  He set her down to take his coat off and become acquainted once again with what he pretended was home.  A tiny, little ramshack apartment, not in the best neighborhood in the city.  Sparse furnishings.  Bare walls, save for a few pictures of himself and Seras. 

            “And did you learn to speak Scottish?”  Seras asked wryly.  Victoria shook his head.

            “Not for my life.  Now, how’s about we go dig up some food, and you can tell me all about your week with Mrs. Granger.”

 

            An hour later, father and daughter found themselves in Primrose Hill Park, breathless after having climbed to the top of the hill.  The peak offered a spectacular view of central London, and was their favorite place to sit. 

            “We got lucky today; sun’s actually shining.”  He commented, unwrapping a foot long sub they got from a nearby café.  He passed half of it to her and opened a bag of crisps. 

Seras took a huge bite and smiled through chewing.  It wasn’t rare for her to get to spend time with her father, but she loved the moments anyway.  She always had a fleeting sense of ending, and took advantage of every moment as though it would be the last.  Well, perhaps these weren’t her exact thoughts on the matter, but she nevertheless loved to spend as much time with him as possible.  And he had been gone for a week.  It seemed like longer since she’d spoken with him.  She watched him for a while, watched him staring out over the city.  His skin had gone paler since the last time she’d seen him.  And he seemed distracted, or distanced, somehow.

“Dad.”  He blinked and looked at her, as though surprised to find her sitting beside him.  Victoria smiled suddenly.

“So, how was your week with dear old Mrs. Granger?  Did you torture her with endless fables of my fantastic heroics?”  He teased.  He was well aware that Seras talked endlessly of him to everyone she knew.  He supposed he was lucky, in a way.  Many fathers might have a difficult time bonding with their daughters after the loss of a mother.  It had only been four years, but they seemed to go on and on.  Seras bounced back quickly, though.  And was fast to see her father through a rose-colored lens.  He didn’t mind.  He felt that in someway, he needed someone to look up to him, place him on a pedestal.  Others might consider it an alarming pressure, but it fueled Senior Officer Victoria. 

“—take me swimming.”  Victoria realized guiltily he hadn’t been listening.  He smiled exuberantly.

“Sure I’ll take you swimming, love.”  He replied as he thought he should and watched one brow rise quizzically. 

“No Dad, I said Mrs. Granger took me swimming.” 

“Sorry, Seras.”  He took a bite and swallowed.  “I apologize, darling.  I admit I’m still a little bit in Scotland.”

“ ‘s okay, Dad.”  Silence ensued, and Seras left her father to his troubled thoughts.  She wondered what exactly happened in Scotland, but she would never ask.  She finished her meal and sat beside him, content simply to be with him.  A shadow caught her eye and she glanced toward a tree near a small playground.  A tall man stood staring at them, expressionless.  He wore a somewhat antique-looking beret and a long black coat.  A chill swept through Seras.  She pulled on her father’s sleeve.

“Dad, does that man want you?”  Victoria’s head snapped around and glared at the intruder.

“I’ll be just a minute, Seras.  Stay here.”  He stood up and walked over to confront the man.  The stranger wore a business suit, excellently tailored.  Though he only looked to be about in his forties, he stood with a small wooden cane, polished and embossed with silver.

“What are you doing here?  I am with my daughter!”  Victoria nearly shouted and flung his arm in Seras’ direction.  The man did not immediately answer, instead pulling out a very ornate cigar case.  He leisurely lit one and inhaled, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

“I am here to deliver a letter of recommendation to you, Officer.”  His voice held a slight Scottish lull to it, though refined and certainly not as coarse as Victoria had grown accustomed to from his stay.  The man pulled from his suit jacket a small envelope.  It was sealed in blue wax, its crest was a shield with unrecognizable figures on it. 

“What is this?”  Victoria demanded angrily.  He snatched the letter and tore it open. 

Senior Officer Marcus Victoria,

We would like to offer you the option of relocating to a new residence.  None of the expenses will be credited to your account by the number 866879-023.  As per our verbal agreement, please be assured that it will be honored on both ends, and we would like nothing more than to put the dreadful events of last week behind us.  Forget them and their associations, if you will.  Please understand this delicate matter is of the highest importance, and we fully anticipate your cooperation.  We highly suggest that as you ponder this opportunity, consider the welfare of your young daughter Seras.  England can be quite a dreary place for a young girl to live.  With the rainy season upon us, you may fear to allow her outside, lest something befall her.  Please let us know immediately of your decision.  Thank you.

Yours,

Sir Gregory Islands

            Victoria whipped around to look at Seras, still sitting on the grass, obviously agitated by the dialogue.  Her blue eyes were wide, and she periodically picked at her cuticles, a habit when she was nervous.  He forced a smile at her, then turned back to the messenger.

            “If they think these empty threats will frighten me away from further investigation, they are in for a sorry disappointment.”  He crumpled the letter and stuffed it in his pocket.  “Let them know there will be no negotiations and no offer of relocation.  I don’t give a damn what information they have about me, be it my bank account or my daughter’s shoe size.”  He turned to walk away, but whirled around when the messenger seized his arm.

            “You think this is a game, Officer Victoria?”  His grip tightened, painfully so.  “You think the Knights will stand by and allow you to remain a threat to their organization and duties?”

            “What duties?”  Victoria wrenched his arm free and stared down the man.  “If I’m not mistaken, what they are doing is precisely against their sworn duties!  They are killing people!”  Victoria shouted.  Seras was standing now, ready in her small way, to pounce on anything that threatened her father.  Other park patrons had stopped their activities to stare at the alarming conversation. 

            The messenger smiled and shook his head, chuckled a little.

            “I really don’t understand why they are so concerned about you.  You really have no idea what is going on.  And besides that, no one would believe you.  The average citizen doesn’t even know the Knights exist, much less that any supernatural being actually walks the earth.”  He shrugged and made as though to leave.  “But I suppose as you have the power to damage them in the media, at least.  Well, Officer Victoria, I have performed my, eh, duties, quite satisfactorily, I believe.  The rest is entirely up to you.  But please, before you make a decision, be sure you are aware of the consequences.  Good evening.”  He tipped his hat and walked away.

            Victoria returned to his daughter and began to clean up.

            “We are going home.  Come, don’t forget your purse.”  Seras followed silently, frightened for her father.  He was clearly unsettled and afraid himself.  She didn’t know what was going on.  She had heard the conversation between her father and the dark man.  But she had no idea what it had meant.  And now was definitely not the time to ask any questions.

            “I want you to stay with Mrs. Granger again for this week.”  Seras began to protest.  Victoria held his hand up for silence.  “No arguments.  As soon as we get home, I’ll call her.  You are to pack again.”

            “But why?  I—I just don’t understand.  You just got home!  Who was that man?”

            “Seras, enough.”  Victoria stalked ahead, head down, hands itching to break something.  He felt sick.  Truly nauseated.  To think that he had been a part of this operation. 

            “Dad!  Wait, you are walking too fast.”

            “Seras!”  Victoria yelled, whipping around to his daughter.  She stood immobilized in shock.  He had never once raised his voice to her.  Never in her life.  He closed his eyes and held his hand out to her.  She took it silently and they continued.

……

            It had begun about two years ago for Officer Victoria.  Chief Inspector John Richter had come to Victoria for advice concerning the Round Table’s expansion of influence over MI-5.  Sir Islands had been conducting more and more investigations through the MI-5; something he had no clearance to do.  Many of those investigations involved the financial accounts of various politicians and higher-ups in the military.  Richter had every right to be concerned.  Victoria’s position was not very prominent, by any means.  But Richter trusted Victoria.  They’d been on the force together for over six years. 

            Because Victoria knew Richter very well, he understood that Richter’s major concern at the time had been a possible promotion he was looking at.  Something he’d depended upon entirely for his daughter’s sake.

            Not that Richter would shy away from moral decisions.  He never had.  Victoria honestly thought he was the most honest cop he’d ever worked with.

            Victoria, however, knew what necessity was.  And what it demanded. 

            So when Sir Wright approached him with an offer to become involved in the production of a new team of “soldiers”, an operation which paid quite well, Victoria could not say he wasn’t interested.  He had a daughter, too.  He had her future to think about, as well as his own on the force.

            Richter had eventually refused.  Over moral grounds, which had ultimately surprised Victoria at the time, as he had not understood the full scope of the operation. 

            Now Victoria understood.

            In the back of the apartment, he could hear the muffled sounds of Seras’ packing, throwing things into her bag yet again.  He sipped on his beer.  He’d nursed the same bottle for over an hour.  The fizz had gone out and it was now warm. 

            At the time, Victoria had understood that the research required would involve human participants.  A small price to pay for building the security forces of the UK.  Especially in light of recent terrorist threats and attacks all over the globe.  However, as he had discovered in Scotland, the security and military forces had nothing to do with the research, except as donors for the laboratories.  The Round Table had no intentions of developing weapons, human weapons, for Her Majesty’s armies. 

            Grimly, he finished his beer.

            “Seras!  Hurry up, sweetie.  We need to leave.”  A moment later, Seras emerged from her room, carrying two overstuffed bags.  Victoria looked at her a moment, then nodded decisively to himself.  He wondered when all the questions would come spilling out.  She was a smart girl.  She had to have some inkling as to what was going on.                

            The drive was silent.  Seras sat motionless beside him, not speaking.  Barely breathing, it seemed.  Victoria wanted to explain to her, everything.  That was impossible.

            He stopped beside the large brick house on the corner of Worth and Perry Streets.  They sat still for a moment, then Seras broke the wall between them and flung herself in his arms.  He hugged her and held her still.  Kissed her forehead, then released her.

            Seras got out, pulled her bags behind her, and walked up the front steps to ring the bell.  She looked back once and waved as her father drove away.

……

            His died quickly.  The agent was waiting for him in his living room, calmly sitting down in the overstuffed green chair not long ago occupied by Victoria himself. 

            The silencer masked any sounds that might alert suspicious and bored neighbors.  Victoria fell to the floor, his coat soaking up the majority of blood spill. 

            “That was quick.”  He whispered, gurgling blood in his throat.  The agent waited to make sure his job was done, then left quietly the way he came, through the front door.  He made a quick call to his employer, and requested the cleaners arrive before morning.

……

            Across the river, a young girl sat beside her father on his bed as he struggled to speak to her.  She did not notice the eager expression on her uncle’s face as he stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing.  She was entirely focused on her father, leaning in, straining to hear his words. 

            Her uncle stepped back to speak to one of his guards for a moment.  He could almost feel his future closing in on him.  The money Sir Islands offered him, the power.  The opportunity to be involved in something so important.  His brother never had the tenacity for such work. 

            “How much did you give him?”  He asked his man.

            “Enough.”

            “Apparently not.  Look at him.  He’s still alive.” 

            “Give it two more minutes, sir.”

            “Richard!”  His brother called him. 

            He hurried over to the bed of his dying brother and took his hand, and laid his other over his niece’s.

            “Richard, I want you to look after my daughter.  Integra will need you greatly.” 

            “Of course, Arthur.”

            “Integra, I give my office to you.  You are the leader of Hellsing, now.”

            Neither saw Richard’s face blanch as he was nearly sick.

            “Integra,”  Arthur closed his eyes.

            “Yes, father?”  Integra tried to stop crying.  She knew her father hated tears, and did not want them from her.

            “Be glorious.”