Again, many thanks for the great reviews. I appreciate them all :) Another update. I've probably taken liberties here so any factual errors are unintentional as are all other errors. Mitchell's thoughts are beginning to unravel at an alarming rate. I'm hoping another update will be forthcoming, we shall see. Love to hear your thoughts.


One Step Closer.

She's in early today, after a week of nights and then a couple of days off, she decides that it's nice to go into work when the sun is still high in the sky. She goes through the routine of clocking on and locking away her jacket and shoulder bag. She smiles at Callie.

She's getting used to the place; she's getting to know the patients and the other nurses. Since the incident in Mitchell's room, she keeps an extra eye on him. She doesn't cross paths with Daniel but it doesn't mean that she isn't careful. So far there were no more injuries, no more trouble. Maybe Daniel has realised and is keeping his distance. It helps that Simon is vigilant too.

She doesn't notice him in the day room. The other patients keep her occupied and he slips from her mind.


George walks into the cafeteria. It's lunchtime but food is the furthest thing from his mind. His eyes scan the faces at the tables. Most of them are patients or relatives but he sees doctors, nurses, other porters scattered here and there, grabbing a quick bite to eat before they're swallowed up with work again.

A few careful questions have told him who Daniel Moorcroft is. Then he sees him. For a moment he stares at him. Well he's certainly big enough but since he was attacked, George has learned that werewolves come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Nina was a perfect example. He takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to do this, he's not confrontational and he seriously hopes it doesn't get to that but at the same time he can't have this on his conscience. As he gets close enough to him, he catches a whiff of him and thinks oh yeah. He's definitely one of 'them'.

He watches him look up at him. He's with another man; he assumes this is his partner in crime, Billy. Those same contacts have told him that these two are joined at the hip. He glances at him; he doesn't pick anything up off this guy that tells him that he's supernatural.

"Can I help you?" George snaps to attention and regards Daniel. He clenches and unclenches his hands as various opening scenarios stutter through his mind.

"Um…yeah…I was wondering whether I could have a word with you?" he begins. He watches Daniel stare at his face and he wonders whether he's guessed already.

"What about?" he asks and George glances at his friend nervously who's watching him with open curiosity.

"It's about…a patient…in the psych ward?" He watches his eyes narrow suspiciously.

"And which patient would that be exactly?" his tone cools and George almost sees his hackles rise.

"I think you know who…"

"Has that blonde bitch nurse been whining to you? Who are you exactly?" Daniel is becoming dangerously defensive and George quails momentarily but at the same time he's insulted on Elizabeth's behalf. He takes a deep breath and leans forward so that his hands are braced on the table. He actually looks a lot braver than he feels. He stares steadily at Daniel.

"I know what you are, Every time there's a full moon?" he pauses and sees his eyes widen in understanding. He takes another, shakier breath.

"The patient I'm alluding to? You will leave him alone because believe me, if you don't, Elizabeth will be the least of your problems" He keeps his voice low but he makes his intention clear. He straightens up, still maintaining eye contact and he notices that he still has the other man's complete attention. He turns and he leaves.

Once out of sight he rips off his glasses and sags to the floor, his knees becoming rubbery. He exhales noisily and wipes at his face with his other hand. A couple of people stare at him in curiosity as they walk past but he looks away.

He hopes to God that that's enough. He gets to his feet. It has to be.


She realises that she still hasn't seen him by the time lunch time crawls around and he's not in line with the other patients.

"Where's Mitchell?" she asks Callie.

"He's on twenty four observation, away from the other patients" Simon informs them and Elizabeth stares at him.

"What happened? He's normally no trouble at all"

"According to his notes, he became violent right before his night time medications on Saturday, took four nurses to subdue him" He watches Elizabeth hunt through the files until she reaches his and she opens it and quickly scans the contents. He watches her expression change.

"The nurse who reported him… Daniel Moorcroft" her voice is dripping with scorn.

"Meaning?" Callie enquires and Elizabeth looks at Simon.

"You said it yourself, Mitchell keeps to himself. He doesn't mix with the other patients, he doesn't talk, he just sits there and all of a sudden he's violent and with a nurse who for some reason doesn't seem to like him?" she closes the folder and replaces it.

"Mitchell is a patient here Elizabeth, you know how quickly their moods change" Callie reminds her and she nods. Oh she knows it, she's seen it.

"I do but Mitchell? You've worked here longer than I have Callie, have you ever seen him react to anything out of the ordinary?" She watches Callie slowly shake her head.

"The patients in here are unpredictable Elizabeth, that's why they're in here, most of them aren't here voluntarily" Simon also reminds her. She sighs raggedly.


Elizabeth is shocked at the change in Mitchell.

She brings his meal tray into his new room. Neil is watching him carefully and Elizabeth is thankful that it isn't Daniel or his friend Billy for that matter.

He's pacing the room restlessly and the change from stillness to movement is unsettling. She watches him. He's whispering beneath his breath, she can't quite hear what he's saying but once in a while he pauses and taps his forehead almost forcefully before resuming his pacing. The deterioration is startling. She places his tray on the table in front of his nurse and looks at him.

"How long has he been like that?" she asks in a low voice and he looks at her.

"Since Sunday morning, he woke up agitated and hasn't really calmed down since" he replies. His expression turns wary as he gets to his feet. Elizabeth turns her head and flinches when she sees Mitchell right in front of her. His expression is almost…sinister.

"Take a slow step back" Neil quietly instructs her. Mitchell is watching her and there's a glint in his eyes that unnerves her slightly. She doesn't need to be told twice. He continues to watch her with what seems like avid curiosity.

"You're pretty" he tells her, tilting his head to one side. She feels her heart begin to pound and his gaze seems to sharpen. He then lunges towards her. She jumps back but in the mean time Neil has stepped in between them and he wraps his arms around Mitchell's upper body and all but lifts him off his feet. Mitchell lets out a great roar of anger as Elizabeth hits the emergency button. She watches him struggle against the tight grip that Neil has around him. Neil lifts him with what looks like inhuman strength. All of a sudden the room is filled with people and she watches as he's laid on the floor. He turns his head in her direction and she lets out a squeak of shock.

His eyes are hell black and she swears she can see…fangs? She blinks but in that instant they're gone but he's still staring at her. The light has gone out.

I can smell her. The moment she comes into the room. Amidst the whispering, the constant interruptions, her perfume overcomes them all and it gets my attention. I look at her, curious as to who could do that, who could keep them all quiet even for just a second or two. It's her. The nurse who looks like…who looks like someone I can't remember who. She has hair the colour of sunlight; it's so light and pretty, like summer. She doesn't look like her at all. She doesn't look like Annie but she does look like Becca. It can't be Becca, because she's dead. Killed by Lauren. The words, the names, the faces, they're jumbling together and creating chaos…but this one…oh she's pretty. I like her and I want her. I wonder if she tastes as good as she looks? I want to find out but he won't let me. He's stopping me and that pisses me off. No…no…she's mine.

She stands outside of his room and waits for her heartbeat to return to normal. Those eyes, what was making his eyes do that and for Christ's sakes, the teeth? It was like something out of a Gothic horror novel. She lifts her head as Neil emerges from his room. If he's shocked then he's not showing it.

"Are you okay?" he asks her and watches her slowly nod.

"You shouldn't have come in…"

"I've had dealings with him before Neil; no one could've predicted that"

"He could've hurt you"

"And thanks to you, he didn't. What'll happen to him?" she watches him turn to look back through the doorway. He's unconscious.

"Up the dosage of his drugs, keep watching him, hope he improves" he answers quietly. Elizabeth takes a step closer to him and turns and looks through the doorway. He's strapped to his bed, his eyes are closed and he's still again. She lets out a ragged breath.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Neil asks again. She looks at him and nods. She has to write up the incident in her notes but how does she explain the black eyes and the teeth? She flinches when she feels his hand on her shoulder.

"You should go and grab a cup of tea, take a break for a little bit" he suggests and she nods. Sounds like a good idea to her.

"Won't be long" she tells him.

"Take all the time you need" he tells her and she just nods. He watches her walk back along the corridor. He returns his attention to the unconscious man in the room.

The speed of his reaction to Elizabeth was alarming and he was thankful that he'd recognised the look in his eyes before he had gone for her. The expression in those eyes had been chilling. He had looked as though he wanted to do some serious damage to her. Mitchell had been a patient here for a while now, a solitary figure but not one to cause any kind of real trouble but since Elizabeth's arrival it seemed to have kicked off a reaction in him. It was probably a coincidence but at the same time it was unusual.


George chances a coffee break and sees Elizabeth sitting alone at a table, frowning into a cup. He watches her for a moment, and then buys himself a tea and a couple of Kit Kats and heads over to her table. She lifts her head and smiles tiredly up at him.

"Is it okay that I sit here?" he enquired and she nods.

"Sure" To her it's nice to see a reasonably friendly face. He lowers himself onto the seat opposite her.

"Here" he tosses one of the chocolate bars across the table and it lands beside her cup. She gives him a look of surprise before picking it up.

"Thanks George" she murmurs and opens it. He watches her for a moment.

"Is your patient bothering you?" she looks at him again.

"Is it that obvious?" she sighs, looking down into her cup again. She picks it up and swills the liquid gently before taking a sip. She looks at him again.

"He's on lockdown, separate from the other patients. He had some sort of a break over the weekend, went from completely passive to aggressive and being strapped down to his bed and heavily sedated in next to no time" she confides.

"What triggered it do you know?" Elizabeth just shrugs. She frowns again.

"It was that nurse who wrote it up in his notes. Wouldn't be surprised if he said something to him" she mutters darkly. George's gaze sharpens.

"Did he attack anyone? Your patient?" he enquires and she looks at him. She can't answer and he frowns in concern.

"Did he attack you?" he scans her face and her neck for any signs of scrapes or bruises or worse. Her eyes widen briefly before she shakes her head.

"He didn't get the chance, the nurse watching him was very vigilant" she whispers. George sighs very quietly. This was not good, not good at all. He looks back at Elizabeth to see her staring off into space, a tiny frown between her eyebrows.

"What?" he asks suspiciously. Her eyes come back into focus and fix onto him again. Then she looks away, back into her cup.

"It's stupid…" she shakes her head a little, suddenly embarrassed.

"Tell me" he gently urges. She sighs and grimaces.

"I thought I saw…" she looks at him again "I could swear that I saw his eyes…change… I saw it twice actually…" she admits.

"Change how exactly?" he asks him even though he already knows the answer.

"They…changed…they turned…black…pure black…just briefly…for maybe a second and i could swear that i saw...fangs" she confides and then gives a self conscious little laugh.

George sits back in his seat and regards her. Oh no. This is not good, not good at all.

"I told you it was stupid" she sighs.


He tells Nina that he's working some over time but in reality he isn't. He has to see him.

He enters the psychiatric ward unobserved and unnoticed. If anyone asks then he's collecting soiled bedding to take to the laundry and the bin that he's pushing is half full anyway. No one questions. He's pretty much anonymous in this place and its how he prefers it.

Elizabeth said that he was pretty much in lock down which means that he's apart from the patients. He watches them all carefully and pities the harried nursing staff that have to at least try and keep them in check. He holds a sneaking admiration for them; it has to be a thankless task a lot of the time.

He finds where he needs to be and his heart accelerates. His mouth is dry and his stomach is doing somersaults. He hasn't clapped eyes on him for six months and he has no idea how he'll react. He takes a deep breath and pauses by each door and looks in. He isn't in any of them and he continues to search in his roundabout way.

There's one room left at the end of the corridor and its well away from the other patients. George pauses for a moment and argues with himself. He has to see him for himself; he has to see if what Elizabeth has said is true. Mitchell was his friend. He still feels a sense of responsibility for him. He takes another deep breath and continues to walk.

He pauses by the door and closes his eyes briefly. He opens them and takes a step forward to look in.

He's lying on the bed. His hair is a dark tangle against the stark whiteness. His eyes are closed. Thick leather straps are fastened around his ankles and his wrists and George can see that he's out of it, completely out of it. He feels emotion swell in his throat, threatening to choke him. Tears fill his eyes and he swipes them away, he will not cry for him, not any more. He inhales sharply, his hands are trembling. There's a nurse, a big brute of a nurse sitting at a desk, observing Mitchell and writing in a diary of some kind. George doesn't recognise him but he's thankful that it isn't Moorcroft or his crony. The nurse then lifts his head and looks at him. George takes a stumbling step backwards, grabs the linen bin he's been pushing around and leaves.

He feels the warmth of his tears slip down his cheeks as he leaves the ward. He wants to go somewhere quiet, private and let it all out but he swallows it down instead.

He doesn't know how he's going to do it but he needs to get him out of there.