Hey guys! I've written a few Being Human fics before but this steps a bit out of my range of normalcy. I don't really know why I wrote it (besides that I love to put Mitchell through some pain) but I actually really like the way it turned out! Hope you guys enjoy it! I'd really love to see some reviews, but don't feel obligated. xD

Title: Undone
Rating: M- Rape
Summary: All Herrick wanted was for Mitchell to be the vampire he knew that he was capable of. He was going to get that one way or the other.

Mitchell wasn't the same man that Annie and George had grown to love so dearly. Most would say that he was just a shell of the man he once was but even that was generous. He hadn't left the flat in what felt like years, even though it was no more than a week. When he was out of his room, which seemed like a rare occurence, Annie watched him like a hawk. It was rare when her eyes left him. The ghost made sure to sit outside of the vampires room when he locked himself in there, listening intently to what was going on from his side. It was normally nothing but sometimes she would hear him sobbing and it broke her heart. She just wanted to help him; to hold him but he wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let anyone in.

George was sitting down in the living room, mindlessly flipping through the television's channels as Annie sat outside the vampires door. She heard the sound of his door knob and quickly rentaghosted downstairs to sit beside the werewolf. Annie wasn't sure if Mitchell knew that she was always there for him outside his door but she figured that he wouldn't like knowing that so she always went back downstairs before he could see her. When the ghost suddenly appeared beside him, George knew that Mitchell was coming downstairs. He couldn't help but stiffen up slightly.

He had no idea how to act around his best friend. It was frightening to see him like he was and it made George second guess everything he did. A frown crossed his features when the vampire appeared in the living room and took a seat in the chair that was placed across from the couch. Mitchell used to sit on the couch with his friends, not minding the physical contact. If anything, he seemed to like it. Not anymore. He would always sit clear across the room from the two, not bothering to make eye contact or even greet them. Mitchell would just stare at the wall with his arms folded protectively in front of him.

Annie's gaze shifted back and forth between her flatmates before finding her voice, "Would you like a cup of tea, Mitchell?" She asked, her voice sweet as ever, waiting for answer.

He didn't answer.

He never answered.

She frowned deeply and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees as she kept her gaze upon Mitchell, "You need to eat something." At her words, George inspected his best friend and just now noticed how pale he looked and sickly he looked.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" The werewolf asked, knowing the answer, but he was still hoping that would at least get an answer from him. But nothing ever came. "You're going to wither away if you don't."

Still nothing.

Suddenly, Annie stood up from the couch and knelt down in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. The vampire immediately shuttered and tried to pull away from her but she would allow him, "Talk to us, Mitchell. Please. We can help you. We are here for you."

For the first time in a week, he met her gaze and Annie was able to see how truly terrible he looked. His face looked sunken in and his eyes were red and puffy, "Talk to you about what?" The Irishman asked, his voice no louder than a hoarse whisper, and the sound of it alone was enough to make Annie want to cry. He sounded so weak... "You found me. Wasn't it obvious?" He fell silent once again and turned his head away from her, closing his eyes and shuddering as the memories of that night came flooding back to him.

"I'll be back. Gotta swing by the store. Need anything?" Mitchell asked as he put on his jacket, his gaze shifting back and forth between his friends sitting on the couch.

"Can you pick up some sugar? We're running low." Annie asked, turning away from the TV for a moment to watch the vampire nod. "Thank you!"

"No problem." He said and looked at George, "Need anything?"

"No thanks. Just be home soon. The food's almost done."

"I'll be back in twenty." And with that, the vampire left the flat, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was outside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up. Mitchell's urgency for the trip to the store was the fact that he was currently smoking his last cigarette. He was all out of rolling paper and it was clear that he had to make himself some more. Sure, he could have always went to store and bought himself a pack but he enjoyed rolling them himself. They tasted better.

As Mitchell was walking down the street, completely minding his own business, a woman stepped in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. He quirked his eyebrow and attempted to move around her but every time he did, she would just step in his way again. Furrowing his brows, Mitchell stared down at the woman and spoke, "Do you need something?" He asked, figuring that was the best place to start. She didn't answer. The woman simply reached into her jacket and pulled out a cross, pointing it directly at Mitchell.

Instantly, he stumbled backwards and lifted his hands, as if that would help stop the effects of a cross. Every vampire was vulnerable to the holy object but it always felt like it hurt more to him now that he didn't feed anymore. Blood gave him strength so without it, it was difficult to stand against it as he would in the past. "What are you doing?" He hissed, attempting to take a step closer but the woman simply jabbed the cross out at him, causing him to back up again. Mitchell had been too preoccupied with the feeling of his irises melting to notice a nod from the woman.

Feeling his head being pulled backwards, his eyes widened as his fangs dropped out of instinct. Right as he did so, a gag was being pulled around his mouth along with his hands being cuffed together behind his back. Mitchell fought as hard as he could against his apparent captors but they seemed to be stronger than him, which made him believe they were vampires as well. Vampires that fed frequently. At one point, the Irishman felt that he was going to break free but as he was doing so, a black sack was being pulled over his head followed by a hard blow to the back of the head. Almost instantly, he felt unconscious and the captors lifted his limp body up and loaded him into a car.

Shaking his head to get the thoughts away, Mitchell's gaze fell up on the ghost for a moment before shifting them towards his best friend, whom quickly returned it. Mitchell held it for a moment before sighing and standing up, beginning to walk back up the stairs, "Mitchell! Wait!" Annie called out to him and stood up, following after him, "Don't do this. Don't leave us in the dark!" Right as she finished her sentence, the vampire stepped into his room and shut his door, locking it behind him. Annie sighed heavily and placed her hand upon the door, frowning. Sure, she could just rentaghost into the room but she knew that would matters worse. As always, Annie took a seat in front of the door and leaned her head against it, listening intently to every sound behind made in the room.

Mitchell literally flopped down on his bed and curled up almost immediately, burying his face into the nearest pillow. As much as Mitchell wanted to sleep, his mind wouldn't stop going over what happened.

When the Irishman awoke, he groaned almost immediately and went to reach for his head but was confused when he heard some sort of clanking. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at his wrists and noticed that they were shackled to the wall behind him. Mitchell wished that he could say that this was the first time it happened but this was probably the third time. Traveling with Herrick for all those years certainly gained him some enemies. He just wondered who it was this time...and what they were doing in Bristol.

He was left in the room with his thoughts for quite a while, it felt, until finally someone entered the room. But it wasn't just someone. It was Herrick. "Should've known." Mitchell stated when his sire looked over to him, shaking his head, "What's going on?"

"I knew that you wouldn't come with me willingly. So I figured that by force would be the next option." Herrick said, shrugging his shoulders, "How are you doing, Mitchell?"

He sighed, "I'm not coming back." The Irishman stated, knowing that was the whole reason why he was there. His eyes shifted up to man dressed in his familiar cop uniform and he spoke again, "I told you that. I don't understand why you keep trying."

"And that's the problem, Mitchell." Herrick sighed and began to pace the room, "Being a vampire, you're supposed to work together with your people to achieve greater goals."

"I thought vampires were greedy bastards that only did things for themselves."

His sire sighed, "If they don't have a coven, sure, okay, yes. But you do, Mitchell. You're part of us. And that's a good thing. You just don't see it that way." Mitchell couldn't help but agree with that statement. He didn't. Herrick's coven was just there to brainwash everyone. He wanted no part of it. "When you were first recruited, we skipped a very crucial step in making you compliant. All new recruits did it, though on a much smaller scale, and they were dreams to work with. Since it's been a while since you've been turned and you have that...strain of humanity left in you, we have to bump it up a notch. When you were recruited, we didn't think it would be necessary since you were a soldier but that was clearly wrong."

The Irishman quirked his eyebrow as Herrick spoke, thinking about all the new recruits he had seen over his years with Herrick. There was nothing he could remember that was different between what he did and what they did. The elder vampire whistled and a few moments later, a group entered the room, whom of which Mitchell didn't know by name but he knew their faces, "I have learned over time that there quite a few people here who aren't exactly fans of you." Herrick chuckled, "Imagine that." He shrugged his shoulders and walked over to the others, looking them over, "So it wasn't too hard to find volunteers."

"For what?" Mitchell asked, confusion and anxiety building inside of him.

"Who gets the honors of going first and...breaking the ice, so to say." Herrick asked the others and nodded towards a rather tall, bulky looking guy who raised his hand.

"For what?" Repeated Mitchell, who was beginning to get an even worse feeling about everything. He watched as Herrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade, passing it to the man, and he immediately began to pull against his shackles, attempting to break free. He knew it was futile but at least he still fought against whatever was going to happen. Mitchell had an idea...but that couldn't be it. Why would it? Herrick couldn't possibly suggest it... He was a bad man, but that bad?

As the man approached him, Mitchell kicked out immediately, not allowing him to make another move towards him, "Herrick! Are you fucking insane?!" He practically shouted, trying to lock eyes with his sire but the lunatic in front of him was halting that. Every time the man would make a move, the Irishman would lash out. He didn't stop until he suddenly felt the switchblade jab into his calf. That had effectively given the man time to straddle Mitchell, pinning his arms tightly against his body. Immediately, he forgot about the wound on his leg and struggled ferociously against the man.

It barely did a thing against him. He simply pressed himself down harder onto Mitchell so that he could halt the squirming even more, bringing the blade up to his shirt. None too gently, the man proceed to cut into the material of his favorite flannel and sliced it off his body, along with cutting his skin as well. It didn't hurt and even if it did, the anxiety coursing through Mitchell's body was enough to counteract it. Felt the man scoot down a bit and undo his belt, grinning wildly. The Irishman's hands were now free from his straddle but do to them being chained to the wall, he couldn't reach far enough to throw a punch or anything. He thrashed about, trying to squirm away but it just wasn't working.

As the man was beginning to pull down Mitchell's pants, the entire gravity of the situation crashed down on him and quickly swallowed his pride and called out, "I'll do whatever you want! I don't care what it is. I'll listen. I'll comply! J..Just don't..." He shook his head and looked towards his sire, fear written all over his face, "Just don't this."

It seemed that Herrick was actually taking Mitchell's offer into consideration, scratching at his chin and staring off into his thoughts. A few moments later, he shook his head and folded his arms, "I don't believe you will keep your word. I know you, Mitchell. You do whatever it is you need to do to stay afloat, to keep the upper hand. But not today, my childe. You will soon be the vampire I always wanted you to be."

Mitchell's eyes widened at his statement and before he could even make another move, the man straddling him plunged deeply into him, eliciting a gutteral cry from the Irishman. One that he didn't even know his voice was capable of doing. What little nails he had dug into his palms as he did everything he could think of to release himself from the man's hold but it was clear to him that wouldn't be happening.

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else but the onslaught that was occurring but his mind seemed to always go back to the pain. Mitchell had managed to keep his mouth shut the whole time and swallow down any whimper or groan his throat was wanting to let loose, knowing that it would just bring his sire and the other vampires all the more pleasure in the situation. He would not justify them with that.

Although it felt like a century, the vampire released himself and slipped himself from Mitchell, leaving the Irishman practically motionless. Within a few moments, another replaced him and the onslaught continued. This one was much rougher than the other. With every motion he made, Mitchell's back scraped against the ground, ripping away at his skin. The scent of his blood affected the assaulter that much more and Mitchell let a few of his tears drip down his cheeks.

After that vampire had his way with the Irishman, the next pulled Mitchell up to his feet by his hair and pinned him back against the wall, spread his legs and thrusted inside. Everything about the situation was uncomfortable, in the simplest terms (not that any were comfortable in the first place). Due to wrists being chained to the wall and the chain not giving much leeway, he could feel his arms stretching to their pinnacle with each movement the man made. Mitchell swallowed down the pain and for the first time, opened his eyes to stare his sire dead in the eye. There was so much hatred within Mitchell's chocolate hues that it was sure that Herrick would've dropped dead if it were possible. For a few minutes, the victim kept his gaze with Herrick until he felt the vampire release inside him before dropping him to the ground like a sack of bricks.

The assault continued for quite a while after that and once all the vampires in the room had a chance with Mitchell, Herrick stood up from his seat and moved towards his childe. The Irishman's eyes were now so clouded with pain and embarrassment that he didn't even notice Herrick beginning to undo his own belt buckle, "The last piece to the puzzle." The ginger stated, a smirk crossing his features.

A sob ripped itself from Mitchell's throat as he laid upon his bed, curled up as much as he possibly could. As long as he would remain alive, he knew the memories would remain in his head and that was something he just wasn't sure he would live with. Could anyone blame him? All in one night, he was kidnapped, assaulted and raped. His pride was ripped from him. Sure, throughout his life, he had done many things he wasn't proud of but as he lived with Annie and George, he starting to find new things to proud of himself about. But now that it was taken away from him, what did he have?

Herrick was a mere inches from Mitchell as he began to kneel down beside him, a look of carnal desire written on his face. There was nothing he wanted more than for his childe to be complicit and after tonight, it was obvious that he was going to get it. And Mitchell hated it. He never wanted to be like Herrick and the other vampires. Sure, he was once in his life but things were different now. Mitchell was sure that he would cave in and join them after this...

Before Herrick could make another move, the door to the room busted open and in walked Annie and George. Immediately, the werewolf moved towards the other vampires in the room, a stake in his hand. He never wanted to kill before but he would if he had to. As George advanced on them, Annie made her way towards Herrick and Mitchell. With a wave of her hand, the ginger vampire flew backwards and hit the wall. Unfortunately, he didn't hit it hard enough to do any real damage and within seconds, he was on his feet and running out of the room. At the sight of their leader leaving, the other vampire dashed past George and followed suit, leaving the three alone in the room.

Out of modesty and fright, Mitchell curled himself up and clenched his eyes shut once again, shaking from the sobs racking his body. After the shock of the situation wore off, Annie was immediately kneeling beside the vampire, placing her cool hands on his arm. To her surprise, he didn't flinch. He just...laid on his side, sobbing. George had removed his jacket and passed it to ghost before moving around the room, looking for the key to release his best friend. Annie gingerly placed the jacket onto Mitchell, tears welling up in her own eyes. After a few moments, the werewolf returned and knelt down as well, unlocking Mitchell's shackles. Both friends watched as his arms dropped to ground with a thud and shifted their gaze to Irishman, hoping to see him move.

It wasn't until a good ten minutes or so when Mitchell finally moved. And that was only to slip on his pants and George's coat. A few moments later, he managed to stand up and stumbled out of the room, which Annie and George quickly followed suit. No words were spoken. By anyone.

"Annie..." Mitchell called out quietly, his eyes opening and shifting towards the door. "Annie." He repeated, slightly louder that time and within a second, she was inside the room, a look of surprise on her features. Once it wore off, she unlocked the bedroom door as quietly as she could. Perhaps George would hear them talking and come in. If that was even what Mitchell wanted.

"Yes?" The ghost moved towards the bed and sat down, whether he wanted her to or not, "What is it? Are you-" She cut herself and frowned, knowing that he wasn't okay. But him calling to her was a step in the right direction.

"How did you know?" He asked, meeting her gaze, "Where I was?"

"George knew." The ghost answered. "You said you'd be back in twenty minutes...and when didn't show up for an hour, then two hours, then three, I panicked." She sighed, "I know you're an adult, but I still worry about you," Annie admitted, smiling sadly as she looked him over. There was good reason why she worried. "George caught your scent and followed it." That was one of the perks of George after a transformation: a crazy sense of smell.

"I should've known you would have been there right off the bat." A different voice answered, one that belonged to George. The vampires gaze shifted from Annie to his best friend and his body tensed up instantly as a bolt of fear coursed through his body. Annie noticed it immediately and she gently, and cautiously, placed her hand over his. surprisingly, he didn't move away from her. He just remained still. "I don't mean to intrude. I was getting up for a wee and heard my name..."

Annie waved off the statement and turned back towards the vampire, her eyes stuck on him. She knew that she would be crossing into dangerous territory with her next question, but she just had to know, "Why did Herrick kidnap you like that, Mitchell?" Her voice was soft and quiet, but it was still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. George, more than curious, moved further into the room, hoping that his friend would finally grace them with an answer.

Mitchell was silent for a few moments, although it seemed like an hour, before he finally cleared his throat and spoke up, "He wanted to make me compliant."

"Compliant?" George asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"When I was recruited...Herrick skipped that step and he claims it's why I am the way I am."

"That...happens to everyone?" Annie asked, horror written all over her face.

"On a smaller scale." He said quietly and everyone fell silent, clearly unsure what to say. It remained that way for a bit until the vampire attempted to stifle another sob and everyone's gaze was on him, "Herrick's taken everything from me." Mitchell said through his tears, "My humanity, my pride, my dignity..."

"But you have us, Mitchell." George stated, taking another step towards his friends.

"But for how long?" The vampire asked, his eyes meeting George's, whom attempted to keep the gaze but it was just too much. Never in his life did he think that he would see Mitchell so broken...but it was clearly right before his eyes. It was hard to witness. "How long until he takes you two from me?"

"He won't." Annie stated clearly.

"He will. He takes away everything that means something to me."

"He can try all he wants but we're not going anywhere. Not without you." The ghost said with a nod while tightening her grip on Mitchell's hand. Much to her surprise and delight, the vampire returned the grip and Annie couldn't help but smile. It was the little things like that that assured her that he would be okay.

George was soon at the vampires bed as well and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder which Mitchell immediately shook off and pulled himself closer to Annie, shaking like a frightened puppy. With a deep frown, the werewolf pulled away and tucked his hand into his pockets as he scooted back against the wall, "George..." Mitchell said quietly once he realized what had happened, "I-It's not-"

"I know." The werewolf answered before his best friend could even get the words out, "I know." Mitchell frowned once again when he saw George beginning to move towards the door, "Will you eat something if I make it?" He asked. Annie simply nodded her head, answering the question for the vampire and within moments, George was exiting the room.

Annie remained seated on Mitchell's bed, unmoving, until she saw the Irishman beginning to push himself up into a seated position. Once he was up, she immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her. Her left hand stroked his hair as her right rubbed his back, soothingly. For days she had been wanting to hold him and give him the support that he needed but it seemed he wasn't ready. Until now. He didn't pull away nor did he shudder like he did with George. He just...sobbed into her shoulder. She assumed it was for multiple reasons. The onslaught that occurred, the memories, the fright of losing them. Everything. All bundled up into one. Everyone needed a shoulder to cry on. Even if they were a big, bad vampire.

Weeks passed and slowly, but surely, Mitchell began to shift back into the man he was; he was no longer just a shell. He hadn't left the flat much besides to sit outside on the stoop and smoke a cigarette, but it was better than locking himself up in his room. He also began to eat once again, human food, not blood, and his normal skin tone had come back to him. His face filled out like it was and he was no longer about to wither away. Things were still awkward with George since Mitchell really had no idea how to act around him, which the werewolf understood completely. But it didn't mean that he wasn't upset about it. It was hard when your best friend could barely be in the same room with you. Especially when it wasn't your fault.

George was standing at the sink, washing up the dishes he dirtied when he made himself breakfast, practically oblivious to everything. Until he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, followed by a friendly shake. His brows furrowed and he turned his head to see Mitchell there, "What do you say about goin' to the pub later and getting some beers? After work?" The vampire asked and slipped his arm off of George's shoulder before grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

The werewolf was so in shock that for a few moments, he didn't say a word. He just...stared at his best friend in disbelief, "Y-You're going to work?" George managed to squeak out, surprised by everything. The arm around his shoulder, work, the pub. It was a major shell shock, in simplest terms.

"Yeah. First day back as the friendly neighborhood porter." Mitchell took a sip from his coffee mug and smiled again, "Sound good?"

George's face was still riddled with confusion but he eventually nodded his head, "Y...Yeah. Yeah, of course."

"Great." The vampire stated and took a few more gulps of his coffee before placing the glass down on the counter and slapped George on the back, quickly exiting the room. The werewolves gaze followed Mitchell until he exited the flat, which they then found themselves on the half full mug on the counter. Mitchell's back, alright. He thought to himself, dumping out the coffee remnants and washing the cup.

Fin.