(I assure PxS supporters that all respect is meant to that lovely and moving canon relationship, and anything else implied is mild and tasteful)
Notes: This was written just after Pip's death in canon and before later developments, and is now very much in an alternate timeline.
Disclaimer: Hellsing is owned by Kohta Hirano, Pioneer Entertainment, and others. No copyright infringement intended or implied.
Anniversary
Seras sat in her open coffin, looking at the her photo album. There wasn't much in it, really. Her family photo, a school dance with a nameless boy, and her first picture in her police uniform. She kept it around mostly to remind herself that she had once had life. But now the main focus of her attention was her picture of Pip. He'd never had a chance to give her one, but after the battle with Millennium she had snuck into Integra's office at night, opened the file marked "Bernadette" and stolen it.
It was just a quick snapshot that had been meant to accompany his contract. But you could see the braid around his neck, and the one bright eye, and a trace of the almost knavish smile. Looking at this was better than remembering him lying bloody and broken beneath her on the floor with his undone hair splayed around him. And his coffin... she hadn't even looked at that. Pip could never be that still, that silent. She had stood behind the surviving Wild Geese at the funeral and let the prayers and praise run through her mind.
Alucard, who in his uncanny way knew everything, thought she shouldn't remember after all this time, or perhaps at all. Privately, she often thought that vampire could go to hell. Not Alucard nor anyone else could take away what Pip Bernadette had sacrificed for her. She had indeed gone on with her unlife, and with Hellsing, after she had torn Jolene to shreds. The blood call had taken over her more and more as it had been destined to since that second in a church had changed everything. No one could say she was weak, not ever. But Pip had looked at her and seen more than a chest and fangs or a killing machine, and she was not going to let that go.
She occasionally had desperate thoughts of trying to talk to Integra about what had happened. The Hellsing leader wasn't a vampire and Seras had seen that she had emotions, however much she might try to bury them. But Integra saw men die constantly, and felt the blood was on her hands much of the time, and Seras didn't want to remind her of that. Besides, Sir Hellsing probably didn't want to be confronted with the idea that her secondary secret weapon still had feelings left, for a human or anything else.
She needed to put the book away, she knew. There were orders to be followed, and there were still Millennium members who weren't dead. And perhaps her master was right and there was no room in the mind of the undead for fond memories, and whatever was left besides bloodlust should indeed be pushed aside.
A knock sounded on the door then, and she left the book open on the bed and went to answer. It was Walter, standing there with a somber look and a paper bag in his hand.
"Hello, Walter," she said politely. "I'm fine for blood right now. I just drank and there's a spare on ice, but thank you."
The butler shook his head. "This is something else, actually. But I don't want to bother you if you're busy."
"It's fine," she said, opening the door and gesturing him inside.
"It will be a year tomorrow, won't it?" asked Walter.
Seras stared at him. "I really didn't think anyone but me would remember."
He shook his head sadly. "Who could forget with all that happened? I almost lost my own life then... and l know what he did for you."
"Yet no one ever mentions him, it seems."
"Perhaps they don't want to hurt you."
"I doubt it, no one thinks a monster like me suffers pain."
"I thought he was a fine young man from the moment I first hired him. I've seen few soldiers so brave, even during the war."
Seras nodded, "Thank you, Walter, I really appreciate that."
She turned away for a moment. "I'd better put Pip's picture away and stop looking so emotional before Alucard comes in and starts laughing at me again."
"Alucard has problems of his own. He's getting his weekly dressing down from Sir Integra right now and imagine he'll be a while."
Seras gave a little smile. "A little humility wouldn't hurt him a bit, not that I ever expect to see any. I just don't want him storming in here and telling me once again that affection is a disability and Pip died like any other human."
Walter shook his head. "Your master's feelings on the subject of emotion can be safely disregarded, in my opinion."
"Why Walter, I believe that's the closest to an insult I've ever heard from you, outside of battle."
"You don't know me very well."
The young vampire nodded. "I don't know anyone here really, except for him. And I had so little time with him. I was never sure what he felt until the very end."
"I know it was horrible for you, and you had no one to turn to. I should have spoken to you then, but I was recovering myself from what they did to me, and then I didn't want to intrude on your grief."
She shook her head. "It all happened so quickly, in a way. It was like one moment he was kissing me, and the next he was dying. And then I drank from his body... he asked me to. I suppose that was the closest we ever got, ironically enough."
She looked up. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."
Walter shrugged. "You're a vampire, do you expect me to be shocked that you took blood?"
"I was standing there, with his blood in my mouth, swearing to wipe out Jolene, and there was no more time to think. When it was finally all over, I tried to tell myself that I wasn't human and didn't need to dwell on it. But eventually it caught up with me."
Seras felt like she was about to cry for the first time in nearly a year. "You'd probably better go."
"Well of course, if you want me to. But you shouldn't worry about showing weakness in front of me. I would never judge you for that."
"He was different you know. Lots of the soldiers look me up and down, but even when he would make lewd jokes he was just having fun. He respected me in his own way."
"He more than respected you, Seras, and you know that."
"And he'll be the last one to see me that way, as a real woman."
Walter shook his head. "No, I can tell you that's ... incorrect."
Seras looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
Walter looked at the ground for a moment. "Nothing I should say, especially now."
Seras realized something then, and looked at the butler with some intensity. "Oh?"
He shrugged again. "Forget it, I'm a kindly old grandfather who can also be safely ignored."
She continued to look at him. "I don't think I will, in the future."
There was an intense moment with a meeting of eyes, and a silence that Walter finally broke.
"Anyway, here," he said, holding out the bag. "I was passing a shop in Marble Arch today and I thought you might make use of this."
Seras opened the bag and saw a candle which rested in a glass. A small tag attached was covered with Hebrew writing.
"What is it... can I touch it, is it sacred?"
"Not sacred in that sense. It's just a candle, a yahrzeit candle. They're lit on the anniversary of a person's death in their memory."
"How do you even know about this? You're a Royal Protestant Knight, aren't you?"
Walter nodded. "Certainly, but my mother was Jewish and she lit one each year for her parents."
Seras looked at him curiously then. "I never knew that."
"No one does, actually. I don't talk about it, not even to the Hellsings. Not out of shame, I'm rather proud actually, but it's no one's concern but mine. My mother's parents died because they were still in Europe during the war."
Seras refrained from pointing out the obvious, that he had so much more reason to hate Millennium than anyone except perhaps herself.
She looked at the candle. "I suppose there's a prayer... but what am I saying, I can't do that anymore."
"You can do whatever you like, but no, there's no prayer. Just... think of him."
"Thank you. I don't think anyone would have ever done this for me except you."
She touched Walter's hand briefly and he nodded and left. Seras lit the candle and stared into the glass, thinking of Pip and of human kindness.