AUTHOR’S NOTE: this story is short and simple for a reason – if an exchange like this happened between Alucard and Integra, it wouldn’t be all mushy and romantic. It would be short and straight to the point.

Enjoy & Review!

ANNIVERSARY

You pathetic No-Life King.

He twitched upon his throne. His body reacted the same way it did on that night, anticipating the pain as Abraham pounded the stake deeper into his chest. How ironic it was, for he, the Impaler, to die by such a method.

You have lost everything.

Abraham’s fingers were wrapped around his collar. The man was hot, radiating heat from his entire body, inside and out, burning like a volcano. His eyes were open but he couldn’t see. Blood seeped into his eyes. His own blood, blinding him and shrouding the world in red.

Pain was a very interesting thing. No one can realistically imagine themselves in a great amount of pain, so no one is ever prepared when it comes. And when it’s there, it’s like a beast, devouring all senses and feelings. When there is pain, one knows nothing but pain.

His fingers tightened around the armrest of his throne. Were he to have a warmer complexion, he knuckles would turn white.

Pain.

Heartache.

Insanity.

His eyes opened to the darkness of the dungeons. Reaching up, he wiped his eyes with his glove. Red. Bloody tears. He hated not being able to control them. His sleeve was wet. He had accidentally knocked over a glass of wine in his slumber. Leaning back in his throne, he sighed.

Today. Of course it had to be today.

oOo

When Integra entered her office, she was greeted by a surprising visitor. Actually, his presence wasn’t so surprising. He was usually in her office when he had nothing better to do. But what was surprising was the timing of the visit and the fact that he did not seem to notice her entrance.

At high noon, just as the sun was shining at its brightest through her office window, Alucard stood near the west wall, fully dressed, from hat to sunglasses to that blindingly red coat. The sunlight was falling over his face, but he didn’t seem to mind. His head was tilted upward, hands in his pockets, looking up at the painting of her father.

She watched him in silence, waited. He didn’t turn around. After a long pause, she strolled next to him and gazed up at the picture.

“Something on your mind?”

He didn’t look at her. “I was just marveling at his resemblance to Abraham.”

“What brought this on?”

He shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” She studied him up and down. There was a certain something missing from him today. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “You have never once brought up a subject without cause.”

“There’s a first time for everything, master.”

There was less of him. She couldn’t find any other way to put it. It was as if part of him was gone, hiding or disappeared. Perhaps it was the long silences in the conversation. She had never known the vampire to be at a loss for words. “Why don’t you retire?” she said to him. “It’s hardly the time for you to be roaming about.”

“Sleep seems to be eluding me today. I think I shall take a stroll instead.”

“In the blazing sun?”

He smiled. Not a smirk nor a sneer. An actually smile. “Why not?” he said, and left her office without another word.

oOo

When Walter peered out of the kitchen window and saw the vampire in the garden, he knew it was that day again. Only once a year does the vampire venture out into the sun unordered. Back in the forties, when Walter was still a strapping lad, he would sometimes attempt to join Alucard, not knowing the significance of the act. Back then, the vampire, still with his school-girl looks, would scold him in annoyance and brush him aside. It wasn’t until he hit his early twenties that he discovered the reason behind it.

The kettle was whistling. He turned off the stove and sifted through the cabinets for Integra’s favorite tea. She preferred Earl Gray in the afternoon.

When the brought the tea to her office on a silver tray, Integra was also standing by the window. He poured a full cup for her. Cream, no sugar. She lit a cigar and nodded to him absently. He didn’t have to guess what she was thinking about.

“He does it for a reason.”

She turned to him, mild curiosity in her eyes. “Is that so? And here I thought he was just mutilating himself for fun, walking in the sun like that.”

“In a way, he is.” He set the tea on the table. “You were a teenager once, Integra. Do you remember what Sir Highland said after your first meeting with the Round Table?”

“That he would prefer it had my uncle taken over the organization.” She chewed on the cigar. “What’s your point?”

“Do you remember what you did after hearing that?”

She didn’t answer right away. He smiled patiently as she sat down at her desk and took a sip from the tea cup. “First,” she said, “I was only fourteen. Fourteen-year-old girls tend to have poor judgment. Second, it only happened once. And third” – she set the cup down – “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

“I saw the marks on your wrist when you washed up for dinner. Razor blade?”

“Fruit knife. Again, is there a point to this?”

“My point is simply this.” He went to the window. “It’s not uncommon for young people to practice self-mutilation when they seek an escape from something unpleasant. Physical pain distracts from emotional pain. Have you ever considered that vampires may do the same?”

Though her expression was unchanged, he knew she was surprised. “Why on earth would he do that?” she asked evenly.

“Why, Miss Integra,” the butler said, removing the empty tray from her desk, “have you not brushed up on your vampire stories lately?”

oOo

He didn’t return to the dungeons until sunset. The skin was his face was burning with a stinging sensation, like a million fire ants sinking their tiny little teeth into him all at once.

Really, it seemed a rather childish thing to do, standing in the sun like that all day. But he’s done it for years, and at this point it felt like a habit, the only thing that took his mind off the memories of this dreaded day. Besides, the sun was the only thing that left any mark on his these days. Sometimes there were disadvantages to being invulnerable.

At least the day was almost over and he could begin the never-ending cycle of trying to forget about it for the next 364 days. He descended the stairs toward his room. The last thing he expected to see was her sitting on top of his coffin.

“May I help you, master?”

She nodded. There was a bottle of red wine in her hand. She raised it to him. “Open this.”

He took the bottle and pulled the cork out easily. Next to her on the coffin’s lid were two round wine glasses. She raised those to him also. He filled them both and set the bottle aside. She handed one to him and motioned for him to sit next to her.

“Cheers,” she said.

He clinked his glass against hers. “What’s the occasion?”

“Anniversary.”

He ran a number of events through his mind. Nothing came up. “Whose?”

“Yours.” She drank from her glass. “Today is the day Abraham Van Helsing brought you into the family, is it not?”

He had to chuckle at the way she put it. Brought into the family. He’d never thought of it like that. “Yes, master,” he replied. “It is. But I hardly find it a thing worth celebrating. For you, perhaps, but I’m sure you understand that it’s not exactly the most joyous of occasions for me.”

“That’s because you’re stuck in the past.” She tapped a finger against his glass. “Drink.”

He did, keeping a bewildered eye on her.

“It’s not the past I’m celebrating. I don’t intend on celebrating your imprisonment. I’m celebrating the present and the future, the good fortune that allowed us to meet and build Hellsing’s tomorrow together. That is something to drink to, wouldn’t you agree?”

He smiled. She did the same. He raised his glass.

“To England.”

“To the Queen.”

“To Hellsing.”