At that, Alucard breathes out a laugh. His first real one since coming back here. "Alright," he says, smiling, "I won't question you again." He and Walter used to banter like this, but about different things. The war, the fighting, Alucard fucking off in the middle of missions to go fuck his girlfriend, you know, the usual. Part of him feels wounded, but part of it is catharsis too.

The pat is to his back, though there's a little weird cloud nonsense still floating around too. But he's solid beneath it, thankfully, hanging on to that by a thread but managing. "I don't usually need help," he explains, "so I get used to not taking it."

Alfred with his sleeves rolled up like that also reminds him of Walter, but he squashes it down. "I believe you," he says, "maybe I should just give you a key anyway." If he's going to pop up, might as well.

The question stills him and he frowns, looking away even though Alfred isn't looking at him. "Not since I ripped all those guards to pieces, no."