Title: Eternal Damnation
Genre: Drama, with a touch of Angst and Romance
Ship: SLIGHT Alucard/Integra and Seras/Pip (meaning it's barely there and isn't very definite).
Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with the Anime/Manga Hellsing. It is the property of Kohta Hirano.
A/N: Well, here's a brief idea of what you're getting into. There is no specific time for this to be set. It could be after all that happens in the series, or it could be in a small lull in the action. I tried to be completely in canon—but, as my Hastings has only books 1-5, it may be hard for me. That is a hint that this is Manga based. This is simply a fic about Alucard wandering the halls. At the first there's a hint of SxP, and at the end there is a slight hint at AxI, which I don't necessarily support, but it worked very well for the story. I hope you enjoy it.
It was three in the morning. Integra had gone to bed and Seras was with Pip. He'd already snooped to see what they were doing—Pip had asked her to dinner. He suspected that the frog was attempting to court her, but Seras was either deliberately ignoring his coy flirting or was the most feather-headed vampire in existence. He somehow suspected the latter, giving his blood relative's track record. Walter was awake, yes, but he was busy as well. As such, all he could do was haunt the castle—perhaps find a night maid and scare her a little. He was so bored he didn't even walk through the walls—he actually took the stairs and used the doors.
It was times like these where Alucard worried.
He didn't worry about times to come, he didn't worry about females, he didn't worry about his master—he simply worried about himself. He worried because he was regretting, a dangerous human quality. Alucard prided himself on not being the slightest human—but that regret would creep in whenever he had no one to tease, spy on, or torment. He did not have his master to bother, Walter was cleaning and could not talk with him, he was not in the mood to deal with Seras and her sulky little tantrums when he did things she hated, and Pip—well, Pip was Pip. That said enough.
Regret…he didn't like the way it felt. It felt sickening and human. What made him feel even more disgusted with himself was the fact that he wasn't regretting something worth regretting—or at least in his opinion it wasn't worth regretting. He might actually enjoy regretting all the lives he had taken in his time—he could justify that. It was, technically, murder—but, as a monster, he knew he could never regret killing humans. He didn't regret becoming domesticated to the Hellsing line. He sometimes thought he should, because that dream…the dream of that night…it had brought back the old ache of that harsh and biting stake in his chest, and of that man grabbing his collar and telling him he had absolutely nothing left…he'd woken up with red, bloody, and sticky tears running down his cheeks and down to his chin. But he didn't regret that. He didn't even regret Seras—she'd actually proven to come in handy occasionally, so he couldn't complain about her. Not that she'd ever saved him, and he doubted she ever would, but she did actually make his job easier sometimes. No…what he regretted was a word—a word that, sometimes, he felt was a curse.
He was immortal. He could not die. If things continued the way they were, he would never, ever die. He truly expected that he would see the year 10,000 A.D. Humans viewed that as a gift—the gift of life. For a very long time, Alucard viewed his immortality as a gift as well. His enemies—humans who hunted him—would die and he would live on. He spat in the mortals' faces, those who eventually aged, grew decrepit, wrinkled—simply stopped working properly. Humans were like machines that were left on—they eventually wore completely out and stopped. And when they did die, they were wrinkled, blotched, graying or bald—the best word to describe them was dysfunctional.
He, however, would die as he looked now, should anyone ever manage to defeat him. Given the dogs of today, he doubted that would ever happen. All any enemies threw at him were pathetic, arrogant, impertinent pretenders who simply waved around their weapons they had and their puny little powers that they believed were better than even the great and powerful Alucard's. So he would go on—living forever, watching master after master die, and perhaps even regaining his throne and becoming his own master once again. He would go on as generations of humans died—he would live on when the human race wiped itself out.
And it was that which he regretted. Eternity. He had eternity to live in. Eternal life in the world of humans and the world of darkness. Forever…somehow, it was almost frightening to think of it. He would never have the rest that humans gained when their lives ended. All he had was eternity.
It was times like these that he understood why the humans labeled vampires as damned. Because he was, in fact, damned forever with no rest—he was undead. He wasn't alive, and he wasn't dead—he was simply restless. Whenever there was absolutely nothing to do, no ghouls to kill, no vampires to eliminate, and no one to talk with, he felt just utterly useless and vexed. It was like an itch—an itch that was in a spot he couldn't reach. The FREAKS and children he was forced to battle with were not true nosforatu. Not even his charge was a true nosforatu yet, so she didn't feel this nagging feeling of agitation (and he sometimes wondered if she ever would feel it like he did, or if she would succumb to the anger all his blood relatives did when a first love aged while she did not). They did not suffer the same permanent restlessness he did. It was as if he was forever bored, or bothered. Yes. Forever.
Time without end. Perpetuity. Without end. Infinity. Evermore. Everlasting.
He straightened a little, his thoughts scattering. He turned, grinning slightly as his master stared at him from her doorway, wrapped in her dressing gown. She rubbed her eyes a little, her glasses absent from her face and dangling from her fingers.
"Your glasses dull your eyes, you know," he said, waiting for her to either dismiss him or request his presence. She was silent for a moment, not shocked, flattered, or confused. Then she granted him a very miniscule smile.
"Your glasses hide your eyes," she responded, then pulled back a little, her hand beckoning after putting them back on. He obeyed, walking into her room.
This was not her bedroom—she did not like him in there. It was very "disrespectful of herself and shameful" if she invited him into her bedroom at night. Besides, people would talk, she insisted. This was merely an office connected to her bedroom. They often had late night talks in this room.
Integra wearily sat down in one of the cushy armchairs, took her glasses off again and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Alucard preferred to stand, hands clasped behind his back.
"Alucard, what do you do with all your time?" she said softly, folding her hands in her lap. He kept his features impassive.
"Do not ask intrusive questions, Miss Hellsing," he said loftily, testing her mood. She didn't get angry or annoyed. She simply studied him.
"Do vampires cry, Alucard?" she asked. A flicker of confusion licked his brain a little. Integra was not one for making small talk or asking strange questions. However, these were strange times—he supposed it didn't matter. He was silent for a moment.
"Yes. They do," he answered. She tilted her head a little.
"Are they different than the tears of humans?" she continued.
"They are blood," he said, striding over and sitting in one of her straight-backed chairs. Integra sighed.
"I am sorry, Alucard. I want to talk but cannot seem to find anything but silly questions such as those I just asked. They are asinine," she said, leaning her head back. Alucard smiled a little.
"It would be no different than me asking if your blood tasted as sweet to you as it does to me," he responded lightly. Integra raised an eyebrow at that.
"It's salty, Alucard. Salty and metallic," she said. Alucard returned the smile she gave him.
"My blood does not taste that way. Are you ever tempted to find that out for yourself?" he said, looking at her over his red-tinted glasses. Integra's features hardened ever so slightly.
"Alucard. When you first recognized me as your master, you asked that of me. I gave you my answer then—it still stands. I will not destroy the very foundation of the name Hellsing," she said, her voice stern and that of the Integra everyone else saw. He gave her a fangy grin.
"You weren't that old, then, little girl."
"Well, according to you, I am still a little girl—so it stands to reason my answer would be the same," she shot back, grinning wryly. He chuckled at that. There was a lapse in their conversation. Then Integra broke the silence again.
"What is Seras doing at the moment?" she asked. Alucard snorted.
"She is being wooed by the mercenary. I am positive she is unawares he is flirting with her as well," he responded. Integra laughed a little. Integra's laugh always made him feel strange—she laughed so rarely, and never around anyone but him and perhaps Walter. He didn't understand why she didn't, either.
"You should laugh a little more," he said idly.
"And why is that? Are you poking fun at me again, servant? Am I just so irritable that perhaps laughter would make me a little more fun?" she responded, her tone mock stern.
"No—simply because your laugh is rather lovely, and accentuates your beauty," he answered honestly. Now Integra was taken aback, and he was pleased he had managed to strike his master dumb, even if it would only be for a few seconds. She looked both shocked and flattered at his comment for those few seconds, and then granted him another smile.
"I am afraid I cannot say the same about you—your laugh only accentuates your insanity. If there was something about you I'd say you needed to do more or less, it's to not wear your hat so much," she said.
"And why is that?"
"Because it covers your hair. I have always loved your hair, even when it showed your age—it's sleek and elegant," she said. He chuckled a little, then, almost unconsciously, reached up and pulled off both his hat and his glasses and set them on the table beside him. Integra smiled, then laughed very softly.
"Do you ever wish you were human, Alucard?" she asked.
"Do you ever wish you were a vampire, Integra?" he fired back. Integra leaned back into her chair, staring at him.
"Our answers are the same, Alucard, whatever they may be. And you know it," she said. She smoothed her gown a little, and then stood up.
"Good night, Alucard," she said, watching him stand as well. He nodded.
"Good morning, Integra," he answered. He walked past her and towards the door, brushing his gloved hand slightly against her thin bare one. If he would've looked behind him, he would've seen her glance down at her hand and stare at it for a moment or two, then look backwards as he left, watching his retreating form.
Eternity may be something to regret, but moments such as those made the journey through it much more agreeable.
Well, there you have it. That was my first Hellsing fic, and I'm sorry if it stinks. Now, I'm a fanfiction critic—meaning I can take whatever is thrown at me. So reviewers—be honest. Tell me what was wrong with it and what was right, if anything. I do ask that you don't hate the fic because of the ship undertones—I don't support any ship in the series (I read Alucard/Integra and Seras/Pip just as much as I read Alucard/Seras and Integra/Anderson), I just write what seems to fit. Who knows—maybe the next day Pip and Seras had a huge fight and never spoke again, Alucard began chasing the day maid, and Integra eloped with Walter. I'd like to know if I got everyone in character and if is Hellsing-esque. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!