By the way, Integra is in her mid teens in this story. And, I still don't own Hellsing. But when I take over the world... watch out, Kouta Hirano.
"Aaaachoo!" Integra jumped in her chair a bit as she glanced around the dark, empty room. "…Alucard? Was that you?" Sniffling, the nosferatu emerged from the wall. His hair was disheveled, and his usual upright posture was now reduced to a dismal slump. "Baster, I sink I'll tage the night off. I'b goin' bag to sleep." Without even bothering to hear her response, Alucard sank back through the wall. Speechless, Integra couldn't have replied anyway. Normally, she would have hunted him down and shot her servant several times in the head for talking to her in that unruly way, but his appearance tonight alarmed her. Who had ever heard of a vampire getting sick?

About an hour later, Integra began to yawn increasingly more often. She wanted to go to sleep, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind wouldn't let her. That's right, she thought, Alucard hasn't been up to annoy me yet. He must have really gone back to sleep. Shuffling around in her plain pajamas and slippers, Integra readied herself for bed. Slipping underneath the covers, she found herself unable to sleep. She just stared at the ceiling, counted the individual panels, lost track, and started to recount them again. Quickly tiring of the monotonous task and unbroken silence, she went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.

Wandering into the kitchen, Integra opened the refrigerator, only to be blinded by the uncovered bulb that flicked on when she opened the door. Groping around the fridge, she recoiled as her hand accidentally came into contact with the slick plastic covering of an unopened pack of medical blood. That's strange, she pondered, Alucard hasn't drank any blood tonight. He hardly ever skips meals.She looked at the bag of crimson liquid for a few moments longer before saying quietly to herself, "Well, he was down in the dungeon for who knows how long. I expect one night won't kill him." Jug of milk in hand, she turned and took a glass out of the cabinet. She observed the milk as she poured, frothing and swirling about in the cup. Drinking it silently, she wiped the milk moustache from her upper lip with the back of her hand. The glass clinked against the cold metal of the sink as she rinsed it out with warm water. Drying it with a dishtowel, she put it back in its place in the cabinet. She squinted her eyes momentarily, as to not blind herself again, and replaced the milk jug. Her gaze was drawn to the blood. For no real reason, she reached over and grabbed it. What am I thinking? She stared at the packet in her hand. The sanguine fluid it contained bubbled as it splashed within the empty space left by air pockets.

His eyes…they were so empty looking… And his face was so pale. But I suppose it's always like that.

Walter chose this moment to make himself known to Integra. "Ahem, Sir Integra? What are you doing up this late?" Spinning around, she hastily hid the packet behind her back. "Walter! Um, I was just, er, getting something to drink. …I couldn't sleep." "Again?" He sighed in concern. "You shouldn't push yourself so. You'll drive yourself to illness. Speaking of, Alucard looked rather unwell this evening. I presume he took the night off?" Integra lowered her gaze. "Yes… Yes, he did." "Smart of him. He's been complaining of feeling a tad under the weather for the past couple of days. I wondered when it would finally catch up with him. Oh well, he recovers quite quickly, as I am sure you know. I'm certain he'll be fine with some rest. You should probably get to bed as well, Integra. Good night." With that, Walter strode out of the room.

He… he had been feeling unwell? And he didn't tell me? Even after all I made him do yesterday? Why would he…? Oh. I know why. Integra sighed. "His pride is too great. Or… maybe he just doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to admit when he is weak, or even how to ask for help. God knows he needs it. That stupid vampire… It seems he's invincible, but he's going to end up killing himself one day," she said quietly to herself. She felt so helpless, a feeling she hated, and almost feared. Being dependent was one of her worst nightmares. It bound and constricted her, and cut off all means of worth. When she was vulnerable, she was just another nobody trapped in the insignificance of existence.

She was brought back to reality by the numbness in her hands the cold blood pack had caused. Suddenly, she got an idea.

Once more rummaging about in the cabinets, she pulled out a black mug. Tipping in the chilly contents of the package, she muttered to herself, "I must be stark raving mad." She placed the mug in the microwave, and set it for a few minutes. "Completely mental."

Integra cracked open the door to Alucard's room. It was scantily furnished, only containing an armchair and a small desk, and of course, his black coffin. She ran her fingers over the words inscribed into the lid. "'The bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame.' I never could figure out exactly what that meant," she said, smiling wryly. She set the hot mug on the desk, and drew the chair over to his coffin. Setting her fingers by the catch, she faltered. What will he do when he wakes up? Will he laugh at me? Taunt me for caring about him? Yell at me? What the bloody hell am I doing here anyways? She gulped. Might as well get this over with. Slowly, she lifted the lid open.

There Alucard lay, shivering and fitful in sleep. His jet-black hair clung to his face, covered in a veil of cold sweat. It looks like he's having a bad dream or something. Do vampires dream? She reached over and gently brushed the hair away from his face. Laying a hand on his forehead, she could tell he most definitely had a fever. "I'll just… wait until he wakes up. Yeah, that's it." She curled up in the armchair. "Until he wakes up…" She fought and fought, but eventually she lost the battle. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before she finally fell into deep, well-deserved sleep.

Alucard was roused from his tortured slumber by the light of a candle flickering irritatingly across his face. Sitting up, the first thing he saw after peeking his head over the rim of his coffin was Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, his master. What is she doing in my room? Has she come to shout at me for being sick? What am I going to do? The last thing he wanted was to have a screeching Englishwoman berate him while he felt like his head was about to explode. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself until he realized she was asleep. Slowly opening his eyes once more, he noticed the mug sitting on the desk. Carefully reaching up and grasping it, he savored the heat seeping into his perpetually cold hands. He immediately understood why Integra was there. She had been worried about him.

Alucard wasn't quite sure what his reaction was. Being the object of someone's concern wasn't something he was used to, as usually he didn't need it. It certainly wasn't something he experienced often. But as he sipped the warm blood from the mug Integra had brought him, a sensation came over him that he had not felt for a long, long time; the feeling that someone cared about him. His vampiric nature immediately rejected it. Don't lie to yourself, Alucard; she was probably only adding insult to injury. First you were weak, and then she was just making sure you were fit for another job. Have you become so soft you've grown attached to a human, and your master at that? He growled at himself. All this thinking, combined with being ill, was making his head throb again.

His attention was drawn back to Integra when she suddenly sneezed. The air in his room was quite cool, but it didn't affect him in the least. Integra, however, was different matter. "If she stays down here she'll get sick too, and then all Hell will break loose," Alucard muttered to himself. "…Better get her upstairs." Even in his weakened state, Alucard could lift the sleeping Integra with ease. Contrary to the respect she demanded and her status of authority, she was still only a child. Gently laying her in her bed and drawing the covers up to her chin, Alucard started to quickly walk away, lest she should wake and protest at being tucked in by a vampire. But she did not stir.

I guess… Dream a good dream for me, Master.

You'll have to forgive Alucard's weird manner of speaking in the beginning. His sinuses are stuffed up. He's sick. Give him a break.

I got this idea from reading about four other Integra-gets-sick-and-Alucard-does-something-about-it fanfictions. Not that I didn't enjoy them, as most were very well written and I love AlucardxIntegra stuff, but I thought, what if Alucard got sick instead?Sorry about the weirdness and the bad ending. Forgive me! ...But I still hope you enjoyed it.