Hellsing Fan Fiction ❯ Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimers: Hellsing is owned by Kohta Hirano, Pioneer Entertainment and others (not by me, or it would star Walter). I don't own any of the songs mentioned here either, and I don't know who does (except the title song which is owned by the estate of Sholom Secunda). No copyright infringement intended or implied.

I'd like to thank my father for sharing his childhood memories of World War II with me.

Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen

Seras Victoria was extremely bored being awake all night. Target practice was tedious when you never missed, and dealing with the night-duty troops wasn't worth hearing all those remarks about her build. Alucard was usually off on his own mysterious business, probably involving blood and death in that order. So this night she was wandering the manor, looking to see if anything else was going on.

She saw a light on in Sir Integra's office. She stopped by the door, her vampire hearing allowing her to easily distinguish the phone conversation.

"Well, you can tell the Vatican where they can put their protocols!" Section XIII again. Clearly it wasn't time to bother her master's master for a woman-to-woman chat. Not that it ever was.

She proceeded on down the hall when the sound of music met her ears. She kept walking toward the sound, finally able to distinguish the lyrics.

T'was there that you whispered tenderly,
That you loved me,
You'd always be,
My Lilli of the Lamplight,
My own Lilli Marlene

She stopped by the half-open door to Walter's office and peeked around it. Walter, who was sitting as his computer, looked up.

"I'm sorry, Miss Seras, is my music bothering you? I should really have closed that door."

"No, not at all," replied Seras. "I'm just surprised to see that anyone else is up."

"I'm waiting for a call back from Sir Integra; she'll want research done when she's finished with Maxwell. In the meantime I've been surprised to see how many of the old songs I can find online."

Seras nodded. "Who sings that?"

"Many people," he replied. "This particular recording is Dame Vera Lynn, who was very popular with servicemen during the war."

Seras was confused. "Surely you were too young to serve in the war?"

Walter nodded. "In the regular armed forces, yes, but I fought for Hellsing. I was in and out of Germany secretly many times during the war."

Seras stepped into the room. Try as she might, she simply couldn't picture Walter as a young man. "And did you have your wires then?"

Walter nodded. "Certainly. I can show you a photograph if you like."

She nodded. "Yes, please," and sat down on the couch. Walter pulled a book down from a shelf and sat next to her.

"Here," he said opening the book to the first page.

Seras stared at the old black and white picture in shock. It was a young man, and an extremely handsome one, with short black hair and a winning smile. He faced the camera with an almost defiant look. She couldn't believe who it was, but it had to be him; the wires were stretched out between his hands.

Walter smiled. "Yes, I don't look much like that anymore, do I? Well, I'm sure you've better things to do than listen to an old man talk about his past." He moved to shut the book.

Seras put her hand over his for a moment. "No, it's all right... I mean, are there more pictures?"

"Well, yes, there are," Walter turned the page.

The next pictures showed Walter posing with various young men. "These are various Hellsing operatives during the war. Most of them didn't survive. Your master was around then too, of course, but needless to say he wouldn't sit still to have his picture taken."

"You look so happy," said Seras.

"We were all trying to be brave. I was recruited by Sir Integra's grandfather -- that's him there -- and never looked back. But inside, I wasn't always happy. The first time I had to kill... well, I suppose I don't have to explain that to you."

Seras nodded. "No, I remember. I refused the first time. I suppose I'm used to it now, but, yes, I understand."

The music changed over.

It's a lovely day tomorrow,
tomorrow is a lovely day,
Come and feast your tear-dimmed eyes on tomorrow's clear blue skies

Seras turned the next page. A slightly older Walter, wearing a tuxedo, posed next to a beautiful dark-haired woman wearing a dress and a corsage.

"That's Bettie, my first real girlfriend. This was right after the war. It's the only picture I got to take of her before she died."

"She died? But you said it was after the war..."

Walter turned to look at her. "I'm afraid she was killed by a vampire. He turned her into a ghoul."

Seras was afraid to look back at him. When he saw her red eyes, did he remember that?

He went on. "I had to destroy her myself."

Walter's hands reached out and tightened imaginary wires, remembering the ending of a tragic unlife.

Seras, at a loss for words, murmured, "I hope you killed the vampire."

"I did, all by myself, which almost got me killed. Then I hid in my room for two days with a bottle of vodka, hoping that would be enough to finish me off."

"And what made you leave?"

Walter gave a wry smile. "Alucard. He dragged me out by the scruff of the neck and told me he'd suck out all my blood if I didn't knock it off."

Seras almost smiled back, but was afraid to. "And that convinced you?"

"Oh, he meant it, I'm quite sure."

Walter shook his head. "It was hardly the worst thing that happened in that time. Some of what I saw during the war... Let's just say I'm convinced humans have it all over vampires for sheer cruelty."

Seras was sorry she had brought up such a painful memory, but somehow she didn't want to leave. She tried to change the subject.

"I didn't realize the songs of the war were so sweet."

Walter replied, "Well those are the ones I prefer. But there's always 'Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition' or "'We're Going to Hang Out the Washing on the Siegfried Line'. And the songs the soldiers sung amongst themselves, but those would make you blush."

"I don't think I can anymore. Blush, I mean," said Seras.

"Ah, I didn't think of that."

Walter turned the page again, and Seras saw more pictures of him. Occasionally he stood with women, but more and more often alone. The photos changed over to color. Now he looked more like the man he was now, but with fewer lines on his face.

He pointed to a picture of a man with a mustache and an Indian woman. "There's Sir Integra's parents."

Next to it was one of Walter with a beautiful golden-haired toddler.

"And there's Sir Integra. Don't tell her I showed you."

The music played on.

There'll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover,
Someday, when the world is free.

Seras was still staring at the picture of Integra as a little girl. "She was such a beautiful child! And she looks so sweet... nothing like she does now." She put a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, wait, I didn't mean it that way," she stammered.

Walter shrugged. "It's alright, I understand. She's had to grow hard, and cold, with all this responsibility. It quite breaks my heart that she's had to become a military commander rather then enjoy being a young woman. But I suppose she wouldn't have it any other way."

"You must care for her very much."

"She's like a daughter to me, and that's the closest to family I have left. I'd lay down my life for Sir Integra, and I suppose I may yet."

"I do like her, I really do," said Seras. "It's just difficult, when someone's so reserved and untouchable."

Walter nodded. "Yes, she doesn't have many friends. Maybe not any, as I'm really just the butler, and Alucard is, well, Alucard."

Wanting to break the awkward moment, Seras asked, "And what song is this?"

Bei mir bist du schoen, it's such an old refrain
and yet I should explain
It means I am begging for your hand

He was smiling again, "That's the Andrews sisters, whom you are a few decades to young to remember. This song is from even before the war."

Seras was glad to see him cheer up, and had a sudden idea.

"Start it over."

"Pardon?" said Walter.

"I want to dance with you," replied Seras.

Walter laughed. "I don't think I've danced since before you were born."

"Oh, come on." She smiled at him. "I used to dance with my dad all the time; I know how."

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll play you the original version, it's much better for dancing."

Walter moved to the keyboard and hit a few buttons.

"It's an old Yiddish theater song," he said.

"Yiddish theater? Are you Jewish, Walter?"

He laughed. "Anglican to the core. But there was a great deal of Yiddish music around before the war."

The music started. It was the same tune, but slower, almost seductive.

Walter stood before Seras and gave a little bow. She stood and he took her hand, placing his other hand at the small of her back. She thought to herself that she was glad she was wearing gloves, as he couldn't feel the coldness of her hands.

He led her in a slow circle as a rich voice sang in another language.

She looked him in the eye. "And does it mean the same as the English?"

"No, I believe it's about loving someone just the way they are. And 'bei mir bist du schoen' means 'To me you are beautiful.'"

For just a moment Seras pretended he was saying that to her, and she had a strange pang of envy for Bettie, who apparently kept Walter's heart.

She couldn't look him in the eye anymore. "You're an excellent dancer," she murmured.

"So are you," he replied.

As the music ended, the phone rang, and Walter jumped to answer it. Seras stood and listened to his end of the conversation.

"Yes, I'll get on that right away. I'm writing it down. Well, that's because Maxwell is a -- yes, I know, don't worry."

He hung up the phone. "Duty calls," he said.

Seras nodded. "Don't you ever sleep?"

He sighed. "When you do, I suppose."

"Thank you for your memories, and for the dance," she said.

"It was my pleasure, I assure you," he replied.

Seras leaned over then, and kissed him on the cheek. "You're sweet."

She left, shut the door behind her, and walked off humming the tune.