Lazarus' Dog

Cold streams of water hit the skin and washed the sweat and blood off; red river came to the outflow and disappeared.

Standing under the working shower, Bernadotte sighed. Coldness was refreshing, but it only worked for a while; after some time he got used to it and the effect worn off. He felt how his muscles grow stiff at first and then fall out of taut bunches. He liked that feeling. It was especially helpful after hard days of training or fighting. He would say that day was just like all others, tiring, stressful and dangerous, but somehow it felt different.

Bernadotte was feeling like he wished to wash off his soul.

Maybe that's why he had chosen the cold shower. Filth was all over his body, or so he thought that. But even after washing himself closely, getting rid of all the mud, he still had a feeling of being dirty.

Disgusting, revolting, abominable, rotten.

The long braid had been untied and now the loose strands of ginger hair were bordering his face. He put the head under the stream and shivered as small icy daggers hammered into his head. The drops of water rolled from his cheeks like tears.

Bernadotte might have looked like a sinner, crying over his crimes.

He put one hand on the wall of the bathroom and using the other he turned off the faucet. Cold water stopped attacking his head and only the sound of falling beads could be heard along with his loud breath. Pip wiped away drops from his face and his vision blurred for a moment. With water in his only eye, he gazed at his big hand, calloused here and there from years of pushing the trigger. Then he clenched the fist.

The shower didn't help him at all.

Last night Pip came back from the most unbelivable mission he had ever been before. Vampires, ghouls, Dracula, secret organizations – that was just a pure fantasy. He had seen a lot in his life, sure he had, but yesterday changed his view on world completely. He flew to Rio de Janeiro with two vampires on his back; first one, the boss of all bosses, Nosferatu Alucard and the second, little funny mignonette, Seras Victoria. She was nice to the eye and had a very pleasing personality, but when Captain Bernadotte and she the first met, she had showed what she was made of. Even though, they hadn't spent much time together, Bernadotte had already started to feel attatched to her. He didn't know exactly why. She was so innocent and her behaviour was full of childlike pureness, at the same time, she had a blink of steel in her baby-blue eyes. It wasn't the same kind of aura Sir Integra Hellsing – the boss of bosses of all bosses – was emitting. It would rather look like Seras had a wound, very, very deep inside of her and she learned how to be tough in order to survive. The little time they spent together gave him the whole picture: she was afraid of men. She didn't know how to react when he was teasing her and turned him away whenever he tried to get closer. She called him „a pervert" and she was right.

Better if he hadn't touched her with his filthy hands.

Bernadotte dashed out of the cabin and wraped himself with a towel. He let the drops soak into absorptive material and raised his sight at the bathroom mirror. His reversed image glanced at him, its right eye was gone; there was only a scarred tissue. Real Pip wiped his hair aside and brought himself closer. He touched the tissue slightly; it was soft and delicate under the touch. He was glad it healed so quickly, even though he lost his eye only a month ago. He wondered what someone else might have thought, if it had ever been exposed to the world.

Two Pips, on opposite sides of the mirror, enclosed themselves from each other and then turned their backs away. They stroked their skin, tracing old bruises. Oh, that one was from Albania. And that was from one of his first missions, Kazakhstan maybe? That one bleeded pretty awfully, he thought he might have died on Madagascar and being eaten by crazy lemurs! And that one he got from being stabbed by some crazy natives in Nigeria, luckily not too deep. That long scar, he couldn't even recall where he did get it...

So many wounds, so many memories they brought with. Pip's whole body was covered in scars he couldn't even count. Tonight, he gained one more. On left shoulder. It was a shallow cut he got while getting out of the jet. It was only a scratch to him, so he hesitated to bandage it immidietely. Besides, he didn't want to. He wanted to feel cold water bathing the blood and paralysing his arm.

It was his punishment.

Bernadotte looked at the pitiful man he could see in the mirror and recalled what had happened last night in Rio de Janeiro.



-C'mon, loose! - pair of dark arms pulled Bernadotte into crowded room. If he wasn't used to it, he would cough at the scent of ciagarette smoke, which seemed to fill almost every cubic decimeter of air. There were both men and women, sitting on few settees, lying on the floor, or just standing. In that or other way, all of them were doing the only thing you can do in a brothel.

The girl, who brought Pip here, pulled him further, passed by a few coupling people. The mercenary did not pay attention to them neither. In fact, he was already excited about the thing; he hadn't had a good sex in a while. Wait, when was the last time? It had to be just before Wild Geese's last mission before joining the Hellsing organization. For a lustful man like Pip, it was pretty long time ago.

But today, he considered himself lucky: he found a nice and cute whore quickly in Rio in the middle of the day. He had to sneak out of where the two vampires were hiding from the sunlight and police; after all, they were still wanted and couldn't think of the way to get back to England. So Captain used the opportunity to look for some entertainment.

Girl disappeared in the next room behind the curtain of colorful beads. Pip was about to follow her when something stopped him.

No.

At first, he ignored it and made a step ahead. But again, a blur of a face appeared in his mind. That face was sad, full of pain. Pip couldn't recall to whom this face belonged, but somewhat it felt awkward.

-You what wait for? - prostitute asked in broken English, looking out. She gestured to him to come in. Fighting with himself, he entered the room.

This time, the room was empty and a bit more airy. He stepped on something soft; as he raised his foot from it, he looked around and raised an eyebrow in surprise: anywhere he looked were pillows, on the floor, on the walls, and even on the ceiling, who knows what for. Big and small, colorful and plain, stuffed with different things in different level, with fringes or without.

Well, they prefered comfortable places, it seemed.

-Money – girl reached out her hand to him.

Pip shook his head, his braid flappering from one side to another.

-Later. - He knew tricks of those whores too good; he wasn't going to see them running with his money after nothing.

-Now – girl stretched hand even further, straightening her fingers to limits.

Pip reached to his pocket and took out the wad of british bank-notes; whore's eyes blinked and widened. She was about to snatch them out of his hand, but failed as Frenchman caught her skilfully. Whore wanted to scream for guard (who was certainly there) and started to kick and strain; her behaviour resembled a fish without water. But for creatures like her was only one kind of oxygen that worked; he waved his first payment for Hellsing job in front of whore's eyes and she calmed down immediately.

-After – Bernadotte let her go. She fell on the pillows with loud „plump". Or something. - Do your job.

Whore muttered something in Spanish as she picked herself from soft floor; from what he understood she said something about the lines „quick bastard" and „what about my comfort". With each second since Pip entered here, he was getting more and more annoyed. Something inside of him boiled with both anger and depression.

Normally, he wouldn't treat a woman so harsh, even though he was a rake, his French courtesy wouldn't let him do that. But now his vision got blured, something was pushing him forward, whereas something was stopping him. He wanted to shag that little bitch crawling on the floor here and now. To be an animal for a moment and let that animal roar. Tear her, made her do what he paid her for. Forget that sadness.

No. Don't. Please.

Seras' face appeared in front of his eyes like it could have been real, like she stood right now, right here. It was face frowned in grimace of pain. Her big eyes were begging him not to become an animal he had already had inside.

Pip closed his eyes. What a hopeless idiot he was. It obviously did not help; in darkness of his eyelid's the picture of Seras' face seemed to be even more real.

-Hey, whazzup?

Whore's voice dragged him back to reality. Before he even realised, he was already taking her, drowning the feeling of guilt in the depths of physical pleasure.

Her face remained with him to the very end.



For the rest of the day, he couldn't look at Seras. He avoided her as much as he could, but it was impossible, when Alucard along with Bernadotte and Seras bursted into the Convention of the Twelve and during the travel back to the Hellsing Mansion. So in fact the only moment he was able to hide himself was on the board of Vatican's jet plane, when Seras was soundly sleeping in her coffin. But, there was one more deal: Alucard, who was sitting comfortably and grinning at Captain all the way. He knew, Bernadotte was sure he did.



And now, the very last thing Pip needed was the real Seras Victoria in his room.

-Umm... - she started, fidgeting nervously and sweeping the paper she was holding. - I'm sorry...

Pip blinked at surprise.

-Ano...I'msorryI'vejustwantedtogiveitbackbbbbbutyoudidn'tanswearsoIjustcameinandwantedtodropitthat'sallIswear! - Seras spitted the whole sentence on one breath and so fast, that he couldn't get a thing. She blushed, catching a glimpse of his naked torso. - But I think, I picked up the wrong moment.

There she was. Standing so innocently and shyly, pure angel. How many times he had been lying in the bed and dreaming, dreaming of her and what he could have done to her to make her feel good. Pip wanted to have her under him, to stroke her tender flesh, to show her his love. But it remained  only as filthy dream of erotoman lost in the labirynth of his feelings. He wasn't worth touching her; Seras was just kind of a good girl, who should stay away from dark cases like ghouls, Millenium and international war, and avoid bad, harming people – like himself. It just wasn't the place for her, but the destiny decided otherwise. Pip didn't want to make her feel pain and stain her body, because taking the last certain thing she had, her innocence, wasn't the mercenary's interest.

Pip dropped those reminiscitations and shook his head like a man woken up from the deep sleep.

-Uh-oh... - he murmured, scratching the back of the head and avoiding meeting her sight. - Nah, just... do what...what...don't mind me!

Confused, he rushed toward the shelf, where the medecines were, in order to disinfect and bandage the wound. The man could feel Seras' surprised gaze on the back. Shaking like in a fever, he opened the shelf and took the green box out, with big red cross on it. For a moment, he didn't know what he was doing; he rummaged all antisepticts and uselessly unreeled the bandage reel.

-Captain...Bernadotte? - Seras squeaked out.

He was breathing heavily; it wasn't like him at all. He wouldn't stand if any of his man saw him right now. For the future – if there was any future for a filthy pig – he noted to lock his door while having any bad times.

-Bernadotte-san... You're bleeding badly – sadness in her voice made Pip curl inside.

-It's alright, girly – he panted. The hands clunched the corners of the shelf, and his eyes shut. - It's OK.

Abominable, rotten lies. Just like the whole life.

-No, it isn't – Seras denied firmly and he heard a sound of papers being put on the table. - I can help you with that.

He herad her coming closer.

No, go away, go, leave me alone, please... please.

-Captain Berna... - she started as she put a hand on his forearm, but she wasn't meant to finish.

-DON'T TOUCH ME! – Pip shouted more than he would ever want to. To begin with, he didn't even want to shout at her.

But it was already too late. As he glanced at her, she took her hand away like she got burned. Draculina was looking at him with a mix of disgust and fear. When he reached his shaking hand to her, she pulled back.

That's right. That's what he deserved.

She was far too good to be real.

Looking like a hurt rabbit, Seras was backing, her eyes still locked on Bernadotte's miserable posture. His hand dropped to the side, as it found nothing on its way.

Part of Pip wanted her to stay; he admired her so much, his sweet mignonette. But other voice in his head whispered: she isn't your mignonette. Eventually, he was being pulled in opposite directions, in the end getting nowhere. Crushed by this failure, greater than he ever experianced, because he had never thought on the field of emotions, he bent his knees. Slowly, still having only his towel tied round his hips, he lowered himself to the ground. Like a penitent, he bored his eyes into floor, unable to look up.

Not for the first time he let out a single tear from his only remaining eye. But for the first time he cried for such a reason as a woman.

Pip reached to his shoulder and touched the wound. He groaned as the pain pierced half of his body and saw lots of blood on his hand. The man startled, when small and delicate fingers appeared in his sight. They stroked his own fingers, getting dirty with blood. Then, they transferred to his back and the other hand caught him behind a neck. Before he could react, thatch of blonde hair was rested on his wound and a small tongue started licking it. At first, he tried to pull away, but hands behind his back and neck stopped him with vampiric strenght. He was watching in tension, as Seras head was moving in the rhythm of licking out the injury.

When she finally pulled back, Pip wasn't feeling any pain anymore. He caught a glimpse of his shoulder, totally healed. Amazed, he looked at the girl he loved.

Seras smiled widly.

-What? Didn't you know vampires' body fluids have healing properties? - she grinned even wider. - That's why we can heal so fast!

Her smile faded away, as he didn't respond. Bernadotte just couldn't belive what he saw. That girl, that cute girl wasn't aware of what kind of man she helped. But somehow, Seras' smile made his burden lighter – no, it disappeared completely! Her presence was like warm sun, which melted away ice of sins in his heart. He would really hug her now, without any perverted intentions.

She had a face of someone, who was thinking hard over something. But when she did the next move, Pip thought he was going to have a heart attack.

-Whatever it is – Seras whispered into his ear, as she wraped her arms around his neck in a hug. – Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll get over it. After all, you are my Captain.