Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human, and I don't wish I did because it wouldn't be anywhere near as good as it is, and it would get cancelled when I made sure Damien Molony was in every scene!
My take on the very beginning of Hal's last change from bad to good. Beware of some adult themes. Hope you like!
Mercy
London, 1954
It had been a long time since Hal had been hunting. For a few years now he'd taken the lazy option, letting his subordinates bring him his meals. It wasn't just that it was convenient of course, he didn't do anything for simple reasons. It was a show of his power, his status, to have blood brought to him whenever he commanded. Yet recently, he had begun to grow tired of the arrangement. It wasn't that he didn't like being waited on hand and foot, to have food when he asked, to be driven everywhere, to have enemies taken care of, and a woman in his bed whenever he requested. It was a far cry from the world he had been born into, a whore's bastard brought up in a filthy brothel. He was proud of his monumental rise from the gutter. But he missed hunting. There was no greater feeling; identifying your target, stalking them, using all of your senses to pursue them until the opportunity to strike presented itself, and then to make the kill. The feeling of power it gave him was almost as addictive as the blood itself.
So he had decided to treat himself for once. He had slipped out after dark, letting only those who needed to know that he was going. It was late, well past dark, and bitterly cold. Under any other circumstances he would have detested it, but he had always preferred the cold when hunting. It sharpened his sense of smell that little bit extra, and it made people complacent. Those foolish enough to be out this late scurried along with reckless complacency, eager to be home and warm. It made them vulnerable. Easy prey.
He had been walking for an hour before he spotted a potential victim, a plain faced girl tightly wrapped in a thick coat and boots, not much to look at. But the cold was beginning to irritate him, and she was the first girl he had seen alone tonight, the threat of snow in the looming pinkish-grey clouds above keeping most sensible people indoors tonight. She would have to do. She hurried along, trying to move quickly but almost waddling, her breath creating clouds of steam more frequently than he would have expected. It was a pleasing sight for Hal. Enough fight to make things interesting when the time came, but not so much that he would have to tire himself out or risk injury. He hated to admit it, but the past fifty years of easy living had begun to take its toll, and he was rather out of shape. Besides, the pleasure he derived from his kills was far more to do with psychological control rather than physical, and the sight of his black eyes and glinting fangs were usually enough to render his prey helpless. He smiled at the thought that he would soon be sated and able to return to the warmth of his apartment.
The girl turned a corner into a badly lit alleyway. It still stunned him that women in particular took risks such as this whilst walking alone at night. He tutted quietly to himself in amused disapproval. Would these silly girls never learn? Not that the punishment for such an error in judgement really allowed for a learning experience. He quickened his pace, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible as he closed the gap between them. She turned a second before he reached her, gasping and wide eyed as he grabbed her collar roughly and pushed her against a gate. He looked left and right, checking casually that there were no witnesses.
"Don't scream or I'll hurt you." The girl whimpered pitifully, but complied and didn't struggle. He lowered his mouth down to her ear, inches away from her neck. "Now, you're going to count down from ten. I'll start you off. Ten, nine." She began to shiver but didn't say anything. "I said, count. This will all be over faster and less painfully if you do as I tell you." He tightened his grip on her coat and pushed himself closer against her.
"Please Sir, don't hurt me. Oh God please, don't hurt me." She cried quietly, her whining voice doing nothing to calm Hal's building temper. He sighed impatiently and turned her around forcefully to face him, allowing his teeth and eyes to change and hissing in her face. She shrieked and brought her hands to her mouth, eyes bulging and wet with terrified tears.
But instead of fighting him or pleading, or even counting as he had instructed, she brought her flustering hands down to the top of her coat, fumbling with the buttons without taking her eyes from his face. He rolled his eyes. The strange behaviour of petrified humans no longer surprised him. He had seen it all. It had shocked him the first time it had happened, but by now he was an old hand in dealing with women offering themselves to him when he attacked them, sometimes suggesting specific sexual acts as a kind of payment for him to leave them alive and unharmed. Sometimes this had amused him so much that he accepted the terms of the agreement, letting them go on their way if they performed well enough. Most often he would play along until the end when he would kill her anyway, and leave feeling sated in more than one way. If he was feeling especially impatient, he would kill her before she even put the offer into words. Sadly for her, he had a preference for the latter this time. It was too cold and she was too ugly. He bared his teeth and leaned towards her neck.
"Oh please, don't, I beg you, I'm with child." Her voice was barely audible as he froze, his lips on her skin. He blinked, his eyes changing back to their usual hazel in an unusual slip of control. He pulled back and stared as he realised she had rested his free hand against her bulging stomach. Her eyes pleaded, desperation plainly visible in every feature of her face. He staggered backwards, letting go of her collar and falling against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley.
"Go. Before I change my mind." He said quietly. She gasped and took off quickly, running as quickly as she could, her arms supporting the well developed bump. He leaned his head against the wall and licked his lips. His mouth was suddenly dry but hunger wasn't the cause. He gasped for air and fought back the panic that gnawed at his stomach. Cold far worse than that caused by the weather flooded through him from the pit of his stomach, and he fought back dizziness as dark spots clouded his vision.
He wasn't sure how long he had been alone in the alley when he was finally able to move again. He swayed to begin with, taking a few deep breaths to steady his nerves. Returning to his apartment, his doorman greeted him as he always did.
"Good evening Sir. Your hunt was a success I assume." The man smiled cheerfully. Hal grunted and ignored the question, eager to be alone. Upstairs, he shut the door to his bedroom and fell against it, lowering himself shakily to the floor, unable to stand any longer.
It was happening again. He had wondered if it would, knowing the time must be growing near. But that did not lessen the shock of it. His world was about to be turned upside down and there was nothing he could do about it. Soon, within a year most likely, he would lose everything. It ran in cycles, powerful, to pathetic, to powerful again, and each time more pathetic than the last. His fate was sealed.
He hadn't just let a pregnant woman live. It didn't matter who she was, or what her circumstances were. The fact was that, with no advantage to himself, he had let someone go because he wanted them to live. Worse than that. He had not been able to kill her.
It was the beginning of the end of a glorious era. And all because he had shown mercy to an ape.