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Eternity
Seras hugged her torso as she looked out the window. How had it happened? She replayed the last hour in her head, but couldn't pin point when things had gone awry. She pulled at her jacket, closing it over her bare chest. She was certain Sir Integra had just rolled over in her grave.
She glanced behind her. Damien--no, "D," she corrected herself--was laying on the bed with his bare back facing her, pretending to be asleep. He was undoubtedly trying to figure out how they'd come to this as well. He was visibly tormented. She could feel the angst radiating off of him.
The first thing out of his mouth had been an apology--but it wasn't his fault. Not entirely anyway. She was just as much to blame.
It was the anniversary. Twenty-five years. It didn't seem like it was that long. It still hurt too much for it to have been that long.
Pip...
She was always more needy on this day. She always craved contact on this day to get her through. No matter how much she summoned the imprint of her Frenchman in would never be enough. She would have his memory--that small sliver of his soul that she'd taken into herself as he died--for all eternity. But a memory couldn't hold her.
D had been feeding from her. Ever since he had gone berserk in Scotland earlier that year she had forced him to drink from her to avoid another loss of control... Maybe it had been their position... She had begun feeding him from her throat. The blood flowed strongest from there and it was over quicker for the apprehensive dhampir.
She didn't know why she did it. She had been thinking about Pip, D wrapped in her arms. Without thinking she had lowered her own teeth to his neck.
It was like fire passed between them--a false circulation brought on by each of them drawing on the other. It was the warmest she'd felt in her twenty-six years as a vampire. And she felt Pip--more real, more present than any shadow she could conjure...
What D had seen, she didn't not know. What he had felt, she didn't know. But her bloodlust had spiked, and she could only assume the same had happened to him... all from a simple bite...
He had been a virgin, she was sure, just as she was. He had not had the contacts in his life to meet anyone... she had not had the desire to after Pip's death.
She felt sick. She was a horrible woman--she had used this man she'd seen as a son, a brother and a friend for all these years. Indeed, Sir Integra had surely rolled over in her grave.
"Who was he?" she heard his voice whisper softly, still not facing her.
She pursed her lips, hesitant to answer. "He was a mercenary hired by your mother shortly after I was turned. His name was Pip Bernadette... and he died in the battle with Millennium..."
He was quiet for a long time before he finally moved from the bed, walking around the edge to come to stand before her. She avoided his gaze.
"Seras, do you hate me for what just happened?" he whispered miserably.
"What?" she asked, blood tears beginning to stand in her eyes. "Damien, of course not!" She reached out and held his face in her hands. "The question is do you hate me for this?"
"No," he whispered, reaching out to smear a tear that escaped her eyelashes. "But... is this situation really a bad thing?"
She closed her eyes, more tears escaping as she let her hands slip down to rest on his chest. "No," she mouthed. She felt him touch his other hand to her cheek, resisting a whimper as she felt him lick away the blood tears.
He could not replace Pip. No one could do that, nor would she want that. Even so, she recognized that this dhampir was the only person she had left in this war-ravaged world, just as she was the only one he had as well. Reminding herself of this as their lips chastely touched it seemed that this outcome had been inevitable from the start.
/Disclaimer/: Vampire Hunter D/, (c) Hideyuki Kikuchi, /Hellsing (c) Kouto Hirano. I own nothing and am making no money from this...
Back to the Archive
Seras hugged her torso as she looked out the window. How had it happened? She replayed the last hour in her head, but couldn't pin point when things had gone awry. She pulled at her jacket, closing it over her bare chest. She was certain Sir Integra had just rolled over in her grave.
She glanced behind her. Damien--no, "D," she corrected herself--was laying on the bed with his bare back facing her, pretending to be asleep. He was undoubtedly trying to figure out how they'd come to this as well. He was visibly tormented. She could feel the angst radiating off of him.
The first thing out of his mouth had been an apology--but it wasn't his fault. Not entirely anyway. She was just as much to blame.
It was the anniversary. Twenty-five years. It didn't seem like it was that long. It still hurt too much for it to have been that long.
Pip...
She was always more needy on this day. She always craved contact on this day to get her through. No matter how much she summoned the imprint of her Frenchman in would never be enough. She would have his memory--that small sliver of his soul that she'd taken into herself as he died--for all eternity. But a memory couldn't hold her.
D had been feeding from her. Ever since he had gone berserk in Scotland earlier that year she had forced him to drink from her to avoid another loss of control... Maybe it had been their position... She had begun feeding him from her throat. The blood flowed strongest from there and it was over quicker for the apprehensive dhampir.
She didn't know why she did it. She had been thinking about Pip, D wrapped in her arms. Without thinking she had lowered her own teeth to his neck.
It was like fire passed between them--a false circulation brought on by each of them drawing on the other. It was the warmest she'd felt in her twenty-six years as a vampire. And she felt Pip--more real, more present than any shadow she could conjure...
What D had seen, she didn't not know. What he had felt, she didn't know. But her bloodlust had spiked, and she could only assume the same had happened to him... all from a simple bite...
He had been a virgin, she was sure, just as she was. He had not had the contacts in his life to meet anyone... she had not had the desire to after Pip's death.
She felt sick. She was a horrible woman--she had used this man she'd seen as a son, a brother and a friend for all these years. Indeed, Sir Integra had surely rolled over in her grave.
"Who was he?" she heard his voice whisper softly, still not facing her.
She pursed her lips, hesitant to answer. "He was a mercenary hired by your mother shortly after I was turned. His name was Pip Bernadette... and he died in the battle with Millennium..."
He was quiet for a long time before he finally moved from the bed, walking around the edge to come to stand before her. She avoided his gaze.
"Seras, do you hate me for what just happened?" he whispered miserably.
"What?" she asked, blood tears beginning to stand in her eyes. "Damien, of course not!" She reached out and held his face in her hands. "The question is do you hate me for this?"
"No," he whispered, reaching out to smear a tear that escaped her eyelashes. "But... is this situation really a bad thing?"
She closed her eyes, more tears escaping as she let her hands slip down to rest on his chest. "No," she mouthed. She felt him touch his other hand to her cheek, resisting a whimper as she felt him lick away the blood tears.
He could not replace Pip. No one could do that, nor would she want that. Even so, she recognized that this dhampir was the only person she had left in this war-ravaged world, just as she was the only one he had as well. Reminding herself of this as their lips chastely touched it seemed that this outcome had been inevitable from the start.
/Disclaimer/: Vampire Hunter D/, (c) Hideyuki Kikuchi, /Hellsing (c) Kouto Hirano. I own nothing and am making no money from this...
Back to the Archive
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