[Time passes outside of them. There is only here, now, in this embrace, the catharsis of it all. Alucard had not felt satisfied in the rescue efforts, even though he had had his blood and been able to lash out at those still loyal to the maddening cause that forced someone to think a pit was a good idea. This is...the texture feels closer, but not quite. It probably doesn't matter. The nations will play at whatever the wrap up is. Hopefully the woman responsible for all of this will be punished.

There's so much about this to commit to memory. Alucard doesn't know if he'll pin it all down, but he'll try in the days and weeks to come. The lack of Pit smell on Gideon, replaced by hospital soap and a natural undertone that he's come to know as her scent. The texture of her hair, the way the fabric of her garment feels against his hands and her muscles. The awkward way he's sat on the bed, how light she feels although that is just an illusion of the moment.

Alucard lingers as Gideon pulls back. He doesn't bother wiping at his eyes, but a soft laugh comes up from the depths of him. He can't remember the last time he laughed.]

I was wondering what kind of a breast joke was going to occur. [This is their normal. Their boob focused normal.] Maybe we should think about a new apartment for you once you're given the all clear? New space, new start, that sort of thing? [Without any memories of Harrow, he means.]