Work Text:
Hurricanes have always been fascinating to a certain someone or a certain vampire. How could he not be utterly fascinated with the whirlpools of wind? He was eternally bored, living for over five hundred years and constantly trying to get something to entertain you isn't all that easy, especially when his ideas of entertainment are bloody battles full of bones breaking and such. Why would he find trivial things such as water shooting up from a hose or running around like a toddler in the grass entertaining? Hurricanes, however, fascinated him. They caused beautiful destruction, ripping up trees and even homes without a care. The patterns and the way they formed was a work of art of its own. He would gladly stand in the middle of one if given the chance, it would be a dream come true for the No Life King.
It was currently night time, because of course it was. Alucard got no pleasure from waltzing around the estate with the sun blaring through the large ornate windows when he could hardly bear the moonlight some days. Whenever he was out and about during the day he kept the deep reddish orange sunglasses (that had become somewhat of his signature) firmly on his face and over his eyes. Most days it made him sluggish and gave him a terrible headache so he opted to slinking around the manor at nighttime like a clique over-used vampire story. Alucard trudged up the basement stairs, dragging his hand across the damp and cold concrete walls as he moved. He wondered if anyone was still awake. Integra would almost definitely fall asleep. He hoped she was asleep at this time of night or he would have hell to deal with the next day. He could already hear Pip snoring, most likely passed out in some hallway or chair like he owned the place. He could sense that Seras was awake, but she was always awake at night just as he was. She usually sulked in her own self pity. Walter was much too old to be up so late at night.
Alucard grimaced as he breached the basement door, moonlight flooding his blood red eyes. He squinted quickly and shaded his face with an arm. Some days Alucard wonders if Integra put that window in front of the basement door just to spite the vampire’s sensitive eyes. What a pain that girl was. She’d been too mature her entire life, but still partook in petty things like a child would, giving him busy work while favoring Seras the entire day simply because he made a witty remark. It was truly a pain for the vampire to suffer through each day. She was his master, so he was helpless to revolt against her. Once his eyes finally adjusted to the blinding light he saw the most beautiful thing. He saw it pouring rain, the loudest thunder he had ever experienced shook the walls of the manor, amplifying its sound. A grin split across Alucard’s face and he let out a small near silent laugh before a loud roar of laughter ripped from his throat and he pressed his hands against the window. He felt like a small child on Christmas seeing a mountain of presents. Why did he enjoy the changes in weather so much? The Vampire didn’t know.
Deep down Alucard knew that if he was outside in the rain and ruining his clothes Integra AND Walter would chew him out for sure- but then he remembered that his clothes are a part of him! It didn’t matter what that feeble old man thought, and it certainly didn’t matter what Integra thought. Not when he was so full of joy. HIs stride was fast and steady. He passed the French mercenary in the main hall, the ginger clearly not having a care in the world who saw him. Alucard felt a snarl pull at his lips as he passed, but he buried the urge and focussed on getting to the main doors of the estate. The second those big wooden doors creaked open? Oh it was the best thing Alucard had felt in the longest time. He wasn’t sure when the last time he’d felt the rain beating down against his pale white skins was. Had it been months? Years? He didn't know. People always complained about how bad the weather was in London, but Alucard had never really noticed. He turned his face towards the sky and imagined what it would be like for a hurricane to form right here in front of the Hellsing estate.
Another thick roar of laughter left the No LIfe King and he couldn’t help but scream into the night for anyone who was listening.
“Oh yes! It is truly a glorious night!” Another round of cackles that left him gasping for breath he didn’t actually need. He wasn’t sure why weather fascinated him so much. He didn’t remember much of his early years. Well. He did, but he chose not to think about it. That time of his life was no more and he would enjoy keeping it that way. Alucard wasn’t sure how long he was in the rain for, and he didn’t care. He was soaked by morning, and trudged mud and rainwater all throughout the estate and back down the basement.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
BANG BANG BANG, three quick but loud knocks on the outside of the basement door was a rude awakening for the vampire. Alucard let out a loud hissing groan as he forced himself out of the comfort of his coffin. He glanced down at the sleek black box, especially at the white text.
“The Bird Of Hermes Is My Name, Eating My Wings To Make Me Tame.”
It was a bit ironic to him. He was an immortal vampire, a creature of the night feared by most, living like a caged bird. A sharp scoff left him before he grabbed the basement handle and wrenched the door open. He stared in quiet shock at who he saw standing before him. Seras Victoria stood before him, but that wasn’t the surprising part. Looming behind her like a lost wet french bulldog was none other than the most annoying, cockiest man Alucard had met in the past century. Pip Bernadotte, clutching his hat to his chest and looking like he was going to cry. Seras looked mildly annoyed, though in her eyes there was a hint of concern.
“..He said he’s scared of the lightning.” The lady vampire spoke very matter-of-fact for someone who was usually meek and unsure of what to do.
“Aye Chérie! So blunt!” Despite the Frenchman's cocky words, his voice trembled which told Alucard that this rough and tough mercenary really was scared of just a bit of thunder and lightning.
“..And how am I meant to alleviate his fear?” Alucard’s tone was full of displeasure.
“I-” Pip wasn't even allowed to get a second word out before Seras cut him off.
“He wants to stay with you in the basement, but he also doesn’t want to be alone so he wants me to come with him.”
Alucard’s face scrunched up and he didn’t seem too pleased at the thought of not only hominy the annoying french mercenary, but also the just-as-annoying police girl.
“A military dog too scared to sleep without his emotional support vampire..How, lets see..Domestic..” For an excruciatingly long minute, Pip looked fearful that Alucard would just slam the door on them and he’d be left to the demons in his brain and-
“..Fine. Don’t touch my coffin.” Alucard stepped aside, letting the two inside, though the scowl never quite left his face. To be honest? He felt sorry for Pip. Sure, he was annoying, talked too much, and called everyone one or another french term, but he had a good heart, akin to a dog sometimes. A soft hearted golden retriever puppy. Alucard couldn’t hate Pip for that, as he was like a dog himself. Maybe not such a pathetic one, but a dog for sure. Pip was a dog to the military or any group that needed extra men, and the Vampire was a dog to the Hellsing organization, unable to truly abandon his owner- his Master, Integra. Despite Integra also being Pip’s boss, he seemed to listen to Seras much more than their actual boss.
A loud clap of thunder made the walls shake and not soon after a bright burst of light leaking into the room from the basement door. Alucard swore he heard Pip yelp like a dog. When his vampiric eyes adjusted to the flash of light before plunged into darkness, he saw Pip Bernadotte, a large man and a mercenary, curled up in the arms of Seras Victoria’s small frame like an oversized puppy.
“..You two are helpless.” Alucard’s voice was rough as always, though there were undertones of affection as he slumped back into his throne-like chair in the middle of the room. Most nights he didn’t even sleep in his coffin, just slumping into the chair and passing out most nights when his exhaustion was too much. Alucard could faintly hear the two conversing with each other, but clearly didn’t care enough to listen. They were like little annoying gnats that constantly buzzed around his head. Every second of every day took a little more restraint to not smack them until the insistent buzzing of their voices was silent.
Once the vampire finally drifted off to sleep, the dreams that occupied his mind were less than pleasant. He didn’t dream like most normal people did, instead, he saw flashes of lives. Whether they were his own or the memories of his victims? He couldn’t tell anymore. Though tonight, he knew they were his memories, and they felt sick. He tried to stop himself from opening his eyes, but he couldn’t. It was a memory, not a dream. He couldn’t change anything, His eyes fluttered open to a sight too sickening for the vampire to look at. Something grotesque for a child his age. His silver cross was clenched so tightly in his pudgy hand that it started to cut into it, letting out small blots of scarlet staining the already crimson sheets. He could feel the sickening softness against his stomach and the front of his legs. He felt tears trickle down his face, real tears, made up of oil, water, and mucus like any human should be. He didn’t cry like this anymore, hadn’t cried like this since he was mortal. Alucard was almost thankful when he was jolted awake by Pip shaking him and babbling in words he couldn't quite understand yet. He was irritated that he was woken up and was being shaken, but he was so relieved that his terrible flashback esc dream was over.
Alucard didn’t even notice when Pip seemed to bury himself into the vampire’s chest. He didn’t mind. If anything he needed someone's company. Even if that company was an annoying borderline insufferable french mercenary. Right now? Someone was better than no one. He let his eyes close, sighing quietly. It was still raining, Alucard could hear the rain pounding against the estate like walls of unrelenting gunfire. He felt Pip shaking like a leaf barely hanging on with strong winds. He noticed the Frenchman's hair was scraggily and half falling out of his braid.
“You’re a pathetic excuse for a mercenary..” Alucard grumbled and roughly undid Pip’s braid, slowly rebraiding it. He didn’t care what other people thought of his actions, he was a goddamn vampire. He’d been living for over five hundred years, and he wasn’t going to start caring now. Pip didn’t look like a guy who had a family, didn’t look like a man who had someone to turn to when things were too bad for him to handle on his own. Alucard hated how he could see himself in the annoying military dog, annoying everyone in hopes they would keep him around instead of tossing him away. The way Alucard’s hands moved against Pip’s scalp was like handling a dog who spent all their time in a kennel, and the only time they spent out of it was to be hit for misbehaving. Pip was shivering like he’d been soaked in ice cold water and left to freeze. Alucard didn’t even care all that much about Pip, seeing him like a dog or a bug, but he was still a member of Hellsing, even if Alucard didn’t care about anyone but himself- that's the thing. He saw himself in Pip, saw the same shaking little boy clinging to his religion for salvation that would never come, but instead of religion Pip clung to his job, the next paycheck, his next meal.
He sighed softly. The ginger man had way too much hair to ever be practical. He felt like he’d been braiding for hours but really he didn’t care. It was a rare moment where he wasn’t left with his thoughts alone in the basement, wasn’t locked away, wasn’t alone. Alucard would never, NEVER admit that he enjoyed this, the quiet silence, the pitter patter of rain, and Pip’s slow trembling begin to die down as the man started to snore. Alucard let the man sleep, not caring enough to move him. It would be a great thing to taunt him about in the morning and for weeks to come.
And if there was something Alucard knew deep in his undead heart, one thing he had learned over years and years of his unlife? It was this one fact, unshaken by time, unharmed by the canyons in his memories and the pain in his body. It was this.
He loved them. All of them.