I do not own any of the Hellsing characters, living or dead. And I weep.

I submit this story with only the intent to amuse. don't take any of it seriously, kiddies, and just have fun. I leave you with the words: "Why so serious...?"


I. prescription

Dok stood over The Majors' lifeless form, slumped on his side on the operating gurney. His leaders' body was still, but the doctor watched in concern as his white-blonde eyelashes fluttered wildly, discolored suddenly by a few, dark beads of blood that seeped from the Majors' eyes, spattering his pale face with crimson tears. Dok gave him his dignity, brushing them away with his thumb as he said softly, "Awaken."

The Majors' eyes seemed to snap open mechanically, his blue irises whirring with glowing bits of binary code as the reboot sequence started up. He blinked, the human emotion of confusion shaping his features as he looked up, "Dok?"

"Yes, Herr Major," Dok responded tiredly, turning away to gaze up at the monitors of vital signs that lined the walls of the operating theatre.

"I shouldn't ask why I'm here, should I?" the Major smiled wryly, "And for the more reason, why I can't move."

"You may as well," Dok sighed, "You've had another relapse. The magnetic synaptic relays at the base of your brain are disconnecting again, letting your mind run amok in some of your lovely little memories. We've had another casualty."

The Major looked concerned, "Take it from me that I would be nodding in understanding, if I could move my head."

"I've disconnected the motor impulse adaptor on your spine for the time being, so you won't get frisky while I fix the problem," Dok explained, folding his hands behind his back as he looked down at him thru his many lenses, "But I'm afraid this is going to hurt like hell, regardless."

"Oh. Lovely." the Major elevated a brow, "My memories, you say?"

"Yes. Most of them from before you… well, died, actually."

"I didn't see them."


"The ones I normally see. Alucard, that butler, the Ivans. I didn't see them." Dok rolled the Major onto his back, stripping away his leaders' bloodstained undershirt and rubbing icy alcohol onto the back of his neck, "Hey, getting kinky now, are we? Anyways, I didn't see all that nonsense. I saw London."

"London?" Dok questioned, turning away to rummage thru his surgical tools, "Merry old London? Churchills' London?"

"Something like that. But I saw it on fire. It was quite fun. Not dark and on fire, like when I was in the Luftwaffe, but bright…beautiful." he looked at the doctor out of the corner of his eye, "The way I want it to be. Dok, I need air…"

The doctor adjusted the Majors' head to hang over the edge of the gurney, "Sounds wonderful. It's a wonder you murdered one of the soldiers to such a fantasy," He brought out a clear plastic bit, holding it up as he pulled the surgical mask over his own mouth, "Bite this."

The Major raised a brow again, grinning, "You're really beginning to enjoy this aren't you, you deviant?"

"Shut up," Dok grumped, jamming the bit into his leaders' teeth. The Major was left staring at the floor as Dok continued, "This isn't a patch job, you know. I'm going to have to do some deep tissue repair, when I'm thru with you…"

"Why do I--NNNnn!" The Major bit down hard as the buzzing surgical saw tore at the back of his neck, and his body gave a jolt. He spat out the bit, crying, "You dick!"

Dok chuckled, "You're right. I am enjoying this."
The Major winced again as Dok set down the saw, prying open the incision with two pairs of surgical clamps and jamming a screwdriver into the gap of his titanium spine. "If I could move I'd be kicking your ass up and down this ward, you quack," The Major hissed.

"Big words for a man on the slab. I told you this would hurt- It's already weird enough that I get to converse with you during the process. Would you like me to describe what I'm doing?"

"Tell me, Dok; are you a surgeon, a damn junkyard mechanic?!" The Major retorted, "Pay attention to what you've doing back there!"

"Well, if you're going to be like that…" Dok said, and the Major hissed with pain as he twisted apart the links of steel bone that connected the spine to the skull, exposing the mass of wires that comprised an artificial medulla oblongata. The Majors' leg gave a kick as sparks shot from the wires.

"You're doing that on purpose!" The Major accused.

"Absolutely not! If I wanted to do something purposeful, I'd be using your parts on the ships' main engine!" Dok snapped back.

"Don't push me, Dok. I might just--" and the Major flat lined.

"Oh My God!" Dok shrieked, his scalpel clattering from his hands in horror, "What the hell did I hit?!"

The Major blinked as his heartbeat began to registered once more. "Hah! Got you!"

"You just died for your own general amusement, you freak!" Dok screamed, striking his leader across the back of the head, "Do you have any idea how sick that is?!"

The Major laughed, "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Can we get on with this? I'm getting hungry, and I daresay you won't be hand feeding me."

"Fine. Just no more chatter, I need to concentrate… oh no…"

"What? What happened?" the Major questioned.

"N-nothing, Herr Major…" Dok peered into the Majors' open neck in search of his scalpel, and at last gave up, apprehending a new one, "Nothing at all." and he continued with the operation, delving deeper into the base of the skull.

The heavy silence was at last broken as the Major sang out softly, "It's the sub-standard motels on the-lalalalala-corner of fourth and Freemont…"

"Stop that."

"Am I creeping you out again? My bad. Hey, do you think I could get one of those voice synthesizers, like the guys from N'Sync?"

"For the last time, they aren't robots. Now shut up." Dok moved the suspended magnifying lens closer to the Majors' neck, squinting down at the red, vein-like wires that connected precariously into the grey mass of the lower brain lobe. Carefully an painfully slowly, he tested each of the wires, discovering one completely severed, "Herr Major, this synapse looks… burnt," Dok said, "Have you been overheating?"

"I don't think so. At least, the parts of my body that are still natural aren't. I can't much feel the other ones."

"What could have caused such heat… ?" Dok whispered.

"I've been having a lot of nightmares, lately," the Major offered.

"So your natural psyche is malfunctioning?" Dok said, stripping the tiny wires with a fine pair of forceps.

The Major frowned, bitterness in his voice, "There's a reason we're not all robots, Dok," he said, and winced, "Watch it back there. A human can't malfunction, because they're more like fruit- they rot, from the inside out."

Dok laughed, "Interesting analogy. What do you mean?"

"We all get bruises, thru life. It's up to someone else to choose us before those bruises start to turn us, and soon, we're too far gone to be of any rational use." He was silent for a few moments, before adding, "And we poison those who choose us."

"I'm going to recoat these wires with a heat-resistant polymer. I'm reconnecting the damaged relay now- how do you feel? Mentally?"

"Mad," The Major mused in singsong.

"So normal. Any fluctuation in vision, movement?"

"I'm nearsighted and I can't move my body, you putz."

"Sarcasm at an all time high, I see," Dok frowned distastefully, retrieving a small spray can with a narrow, straw-like spray nozzle. Expertly he applied the sticky, purple substance to the wires, watching them dry black.

"I have my moments," The Major agreed.

"Well, I'm assuming that one of your 'moments' is what gave you your meltdown," Dok said, beginning to remove his holding clamps, "The full extent of the human mind is yet unexplored- You may have melted the wire yourself."

"Wait- you mean, like telekinesis?" The major snorted, "Your saying I have telekinesis?"

"No. I'm saying that you may have been thinking such strong thoughts about something that it caused a pyrogenic reaction at the base of your skull. I'm advising you to stop thinking-"

"Consider it done."

"-about what is upsetting your chemical balance. Therefore I'm prescribing a mandatory psychiatric evaluation."

"Whazzat?" The Major said, confused, "Dok, I don't have time for that. Besides, we don't have a physiatrist…" he looked up as Dok chuckled, "…do we?"

"You're in luck, Herr Major. Millennium does, in fact, have a psychiatrist," Dok said cheerfully, starting on his stitches, "…But I don't think you'll ever guess who."

oh, goody goody. you read it. good for you! clap for yourself! yaaaaay!