D" for Short

Most children develop particular tastes over the course of their lives, either as temporary phases or enduring habits. If their parents are fortunate, these tastes run towards the sorts of things that are generally considered good for them: vegetables, fruits, healthy snacks of cheese and crackers or juice and toast. Most parents are not fortunate, and instead must contend with fixations on potato chips, chocolate or the favorite fructose-laced carbonated beverage du jour.

Alucard and Integra discovered their son's taste for blood and pancakes entirely by accident.

Family meals in the Hellsing household were rare, not only because of the demanding and often irregular schedule of the matriarch and her vampire servants, but because of the vast differences in the family's various diets. For Alucard and Seras, every meal called for human blood—fresh or refrigerated—and nothing more. Integra tended towards whatever her kitchen staff had made, barring the rare occasions she was feeling peckish or had the time and inclination to cook for herself. Her son was the most difficult to deal with, capable as he was of consuming both blood and traditional human food. Dante's parents had discovered that as he grew older, his tolerance and taste for solid foods increased. At six-years old, the boy enjoyed barely-cooked meat—usually beef—in addition to the blood-based formula that Hellsing's doctors had tailored to his specific needs. Only years of exposure to vampires and their feeding habits allowed Integra to override a mother's concern about her child regularly consuming raw meat.

When there was time for a family meal, it was most often breakfast—although for Integra Hellsing, breakfast had somehow packed up and moved from its usual residence in the bright hours of the morning to the darker hours immediately preceding sunset.

On the day that Dante's unusual predisposition was discovered, the child had taken it upon himself to wake both his parents. He started with his father, knowing that Integra would be pleased if Alucard was robbed of more sleep than she was, even if only by a few minutes. Dante had discovered that one of the best ways to rouse the vampire was to hit the side of his coffin, near his head, until he finally threw off the lid. This had the added comedic effect of producing an Alucard who had not taken the time to smooth his unruly hair or manifest his usual attire.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” the vampire demanded of his son as he ran a hand through his hair—a very human gesture, but Dante was in many ways a very human child, and he would have to learn proper male conduct from somewhere.

Dante nodded and grabbed his father's hand to pull him towards the door. “Time to get up. Mummy has time for breakfast if we hurry.”

Alucard sighed and allowed himself to be led into the hall by a child who weighed less than a small hellhound. When it became clear that Dante had every intention of them actually walking up several flights of stairs to his mother's room, Alucard scooped the boy up and phased through walls and ceilings until they arrived an arm's reach from her bed.

“You wake your mother,” the vampire ordered. “I'm going to the kitchen.” He was not above telling the staff to make Integra's breakfast if it meant having the pleasure of his family starting the evening in one place. Besides, harrying the staff would be a wonderful warm-up to rousing Seras from her coffin afterwards.

Several minutes later, when Dante had woken his mother by jumping on her bed, and Alucard had woken his fledging in a marginally more mature manner (up-ending her coffin), the four gathered in the small dining room. The kitchen staff had left a generous stack of pancakes and a pitcher of warmed syrup on the table. There was blood for Alucard and Seras, and formula and half-raw bacon for Dante. Alucard had just sat back to enjoy his meal when the boy shyly reached for Integra's sleeve and tugged on it.

“Can I try?” he asked, nodding towards the pancakes.

“May you,” his mother automatically corrected. She cast an inquiring glance at Alucard over their son's head. The vampire shrugged. What was the worst that could happen? An upset stomach? He took Dante's plate and added a single pancake to the dish, then handed it back to the boy, all without waiting for Integra to voice her permission. Dante thanked him and then sat perfectly still for several seconds. Alucard sighed as he realized his son was trying to decide the best way to conduct his current culinary experiment.

Inspiration seemed to come to the child when Integra silently offered him the syrup. “Just a little bit,” Dante insisted. He had learned to be cautious when trying new foods, thanks to an incident in which he'd accidentally consumed garlic.

Integra spooned some of the syrup onto the side of his plate, and after another moment's deliberation, Dante simply tore a piece of his pancake off with long, tiny fingers and dipped the edge in the syrup. Alucard watched with more amusement than trepidation as his son bit into the food.

Dante very politely chewed and swallowed. He almost succeeded in masking his disgust as he did so. Alucard shared a look with Seras, who had covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle at the child's expression. She snorted once, and then quickly composed herself. Integra was doing an admirable job of not smiling as she ate her own syrup-drenched breakfast.

Undeterred, Dante tore another piece off of his pancake. He chewed, swallowed, and evidently found the food much more acceptable when plain. The boy took a long drink to wash down the thick, doughy treat.

Something in the child's expression changed. At first, it was the wide eyes of delighted surprise. Next came the slow, crafty smile that Dante had learned from his father. Instead of putting his cup back down, he tipped it so the contents dribbled over his pancake. Within a matter of moments, the pancake and his improvised syrup were gone. Dante licked the blood from his little fangs and grinned at his mother. “They're very good,” he declared.

Integra and even Seras looked as though they might be ill at any second. Neither one had a problem with blood, but the combination of blood and a traditionally bloodless human meal made the cravings Integra had experienced while pregnant seem normal by comparison. Alucard smirked and added another pancake to Dante's plate. “Alucard—” the child's mother protested, but she was too late. Dante had already been treated to fresh “syrup” from his father's own cup.

The No Life King smiled and simply remarked, “He is a growing boy, Master.”