Here’s a short little something for my friend @mind-full-of-fog-and-flowers, who’s not been having such a great day today. It’s a continuation of her contribution to @bookwormmedz‘s Hellsing thread! Hope this helps make things better!
Jayce had sat down, against the tree, praying for the safety of herself and others. There was Medz, herself… Who else ended up here? Medz and the vampire Alucard, having seen her and heard her prayers, had moved towards her. But they stopped. There was a ruffling sound, Alucard’s arm moved to block the shorter woman. Footsteps in the graveyard, behind the tree Jayce sat against.
“Kiss the son lest he be angry, an’ ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but ae little…”
“We have to go, human.” Not humans. Human. Of course she’d be left alone. But she never looked up, never stopped praying as events unfolded around her. The heavy footfalls walked beside her, and the sound of a familiar Scottish accent filled the air.
“Shame ye hae ta run, Vampire! Perhaps another time, then!”
Jayce stopped, turning to look at the source of the voice. It couldn’t be.
It was.
The heavy grey coat. Catholic clerical shirt. Giant rosary necklace and rounded glasses, mounted on a head topped by short-cut blonde hair. Alexander Anderson.
Her favorite.
She had to suppress her surprise as the priest bent forward, offering his hand in front of her. It took a moment or two of processing before she realized he wanted to help her to her feet. Jayce grasped the far-too-big hand and the Father helped her to her feet with ease.
“Ye’ve been prayin’, hae ye not?” He smiled widely, the same smile she felt he gave anyone who prayed in front of him.
“Umm… Yes, I was.”
“Fer yersel’?”
“No, Father. For my friend…s, my friends. We’re kind of stuck… Here, stuck here. It’s a long story.”
“… Ae exhort therefore, tha’, first o’ all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and givin’ o’ thanks, be made fer all men; Fer kings, and fer ae tha’ are in authority; that we may lead ae quiet an’ peaceable life, in all godliness and honesty… Amen.”
“P-pardon, Father Anderson?”
“Why that’s First Tim…” His eyes narrowed. At least, she assumed they narrowed. It was REALLY hard to tell behind those glasses. His voice darkened, quieting down just the slightest bit. “It’s First Timothy, Chapter Two, verses One through Two. Mind tellin’ me, how d’yae know my name?”
“I told you, Father Anderson, it’s a very long story.”
“Assume ae’ve got time, then.”
So she began. How she read that post on Tumblr. How she’d fallen asleep, woken up in a graveyard to the sight of her friend Medz conversing with the No-Life King himself. How she worried about any of her other friends who might have ended up in this hellscape of a world, sat against the tree, and began to pray when he arrived. She told him just enough for him to grasp the concept of how she understood his name.
The Father didn’t seem to buy much of it.
“Well, yer’ certainly nae from around here, an’ it seems yer’ tellin’ the truth about yer friends, but I dinnae buy any ae that nonsense about an… A-ni-me.” The word was foreign on his tongue. In any other context it would’ve been comical to see the six-foot-ten priest struggle with the concept.
“Ne’er the less, ye should nae be out here this late. Nae with… Things like tha’ vampire runnin’ around. Ye’d be safest with me, an’ the Vatican. Under tha protection o’ the Holy Catholic Church.”
Jayce couldn’t deny that. The offer of guaranteed safety, in the unforgiving world of Hellsing. That was an offer no smart mortal could pass up. She nodded, agreeing with Father Anderson, and followed him as he walked. She still wasn’t quite sure where they were. Somewhere in an old, old part of England, from the looks of the graves in the cemetery.
She asked why the Father was here, of all places. He mumbled quietly as they walked, something about being sent to investigate the threat of a vampire in the area, something that seemed to be confirmed by the sight of Alucard. He brought her along, meeting up with a trio of Iscariot operatives who were very confused to see him bringing an entirely new individual in tow. He explained the situation, how she was to be put under their protection until such time as she and her friends could be safely reunited and sent back wherever they came from.
He’d personally watch over her if he had to, to make sure she was safe. It was the least he could do, given her confused and uncertain circumstances.
It was a long car ride to the airport, during which Jayce and Anderson talked. A lot. About himself, herself, religion, who he was, who she was, their favorite foods. Anything to pass the time and learn more about her favorite character.
They boarded a Vatican-owned Gulfstream jet, an astoundingly luxurious (and highly ostentatious) mode of travel. It was at this point Jayce realized how sleepy she actually was. She hadn’t technically had any sleep, since she went from eyes-closed to fully-awake in the span of about a second, when she was dropped into this world.
And she slept like a baby.
When she awoke several hours later, she sat up with a powerful yawn. Her eyes still closed, Jayce expected to see the familiar sight of her bedroom. When she opened them…
“It wasn’t a dream.”
“Pardon?” Anderson sat up in his chair, evidently on the verge of dozing off himself.
“I thought I was dreaming. I’m… Still here.”
“Well ae course ye are!”
It took another several hours to land outside of Vatican City, then to ride in. There it was. St. Ferdinand’s Orphanage, the stomping grounds of Alexander Anderson and the home to a significant portion of Iscariot forces.
She stepped out of the car, marveling at the size of the building. It was so much bigger than it looked in the manga.
“This is where ye’ll be stayin’ for tha ferseeable future.” Anderson spoke as he walked. “Dinnae worry, ae’m sure ye’ll fi’ right in. Tha children’ll love ye!” He grinned, gesturing as they walked. He gave her a brief tour, cleared things up with those in charge.
Anderson was talking to Maxwell at the moment.
Jayce was sitting outside the room, looking around her. Big, brick walls. Lots of protection. Knowing that Anderson himself was scarcely a shout away.
She supposed there were worse places to be right now.
The Rose-Clad Demon Doctor 