[ He follows the scar with his fingertips. He's never done that before. Alucard and Sypha- both of them try to kiss his scars, trace over them as if they could replace the rough skin with the perfect softness of their hands. He isn't quite so sentimental, or quite so certain of his own ability to make things better. He doesn't actively avoid the scar anymore, but he doesn't pay it that much attention either. It's not his business, and under normal circumstances he likes to think he's good at minding his own business.

But this is not a time for minding his own business. This is actually kind of the opposite of that. So he focuses on the texture of it, on the discoloration of the skin, of the sole imperfect part of half of the best fucking thing that ever happened to him.

And he observes, because he is good at observing. In the same way he recounted the way Alucard slept so long ago, he says what he sees. ]

Would have just missed the vein here. [ As his fingers trace over where it begins, at the collarbone. ] Nicked it further down, on its way past the heart. Fatal to a human, wouldn't expect it to do a vampire in. Hell of a lot of blood. Ribs would have taken the brunt of it here. [ Lower, where the scar is at its widest. ] Probably more damage from the ribs being cut clean through and going into the lungs than from the cut itself. Misses the stomach, too.

[ Was he faking it that time he confused livers and ovaries just to be obstinate and to fuck with Alucard and Sypha? All signs point to 'yes'. ]