Turns out Tom's going to be a regular in Season 4! Too bad George is going to be written out and Nina is already gone ): I don't own Being Human
:::
A punched nearly knocked Tom off his feet. He let out a hiss of pain, stepping back to clutch his bruised nose, fingers brushing against the damaged cartilage.
"What the hell is going on?" It was a woman, eyes wide, breathing heavily, one hand holding the starchy white sheet to her naked body, the other clenched into a fist.
"What was that for?" responded Tom, rubbing his nose, but not sounding too offended. It wasn't bleeding, after all, and he was rather use to getting injured due to his abnormal career.
"Where am I, you pervert?" The blond woman asked, taking a look around the temporary morgue for the murdered victims of Honolulu Heights, catching sight of the startled John, and pulling the sheet closer to herself as she slid off the metal slab.
"What's going on? Who are you two?" she barked out when neither of them responded, her body pressing back up against the lockers behind her, as Tom was blocking her path in front, and John was still standing at her right with his own corpse, the stairs to the exit farther behind him.
"You can see me?" It was John who finally responded, eyes wide, hands falling from the metal slab, now facing the woman. She snorted, standing slightly taller, one hand unconsciously moving to rub a spot on her neck.
"Of course, you prick. And what the hell is that smell?" The woman cringed, sniffing the air as if to track the smell, nose picking up the smell of dead bodies and something she couldn't quite place.
"I'm sorry," said Tom, moving to grab the woman by the shoulder, pushing her into the lockers, the opposite hand holding up the wooden stake. The blonde started to scream, and Tom heard John start to yell in the background but ignored him, pushing his body up against the newly turned vampire to hold her in place, the hand on her shoulder moving to cover her mouth to quiet her.
"Hey, what are you doing?" yelled John rushing to grab Tom's arm that was readying the stake. Tom could easily throw him off, but considering John had no idea what this woman was, there was no need to harm him for his ignorance.
"She's a vampire," commented Tom casually, glancing over his shoulder as said vampire clawed at his hand. He was a bit surprised at his own monotone, but Tom could not bring himself to care for much of anything at the moment. It was another vampire, and to his father, it was another abomination that needed to be cleansed from the earth.
"She's just a woman for Christ's sake," cried John, blue eyes wide and red rimmed. Were they always so bright? Perhaps Tom never noticed. "Besides, you can't just bloody kill someone in a morgue! Especially with a cop just upstairs – you're going to go to jail!"
"I don't think you understand how this works," remarked Tom, glaring at John. "Don't get in the way, mate." With that, he attempted to brush John away, but the ghost put up a struggle, trying to pull the stake away from Tom. When his grip on her mouth weakened, the vampire managed to get out of his hold and start screaming as she ran toward the stairs, hands barely holding the white sheet over her body. Tom elbowed John in the jaw to push him away, and lunged for the blonde, his hand grabbing the edge of the white sheet covering her, causing the woman to slip and hit her head against the handrail of the stairs. In less than a second, her screaming stopped and her body fell to the floor, limp and unconscious.
:::
"Why? Why, why, why, why?" John wringed his hands, following Tom through the forest, dodging low tree branches as they made their way back to the caravan. Tom didn't reply, hadn't said anything since he snuck out of morgue, past the guard, with the petite woman thrown over his shoulder and a fretting John in tow. He wasn't exactly sure why he decided to not stake the vampire on the spot, but then again, John whining into his ear was a pretty good deterrent, and, as much as Tom tried to deny it, the gash on the woman's head from hitting the handrail almost made her seem...human.
"Why is this happening to me? How did I end up in the company of a crazy person who kills women who are mistaken for dead?" John ranted, throwing his hands in the air as he picked up his pace to keep up with Tom. The white sheet wrapped haphazardly around the woman on his shoulder made it look like he had just stolen a body, which he technically had, but as John had reasoned as they left, they were trying to help an obviously confused young lady.
"And vampires? Seriously, seriously? Sure I may be dead, but vampires?"
"It is dead," Tom finally said as they approached the caravan. He unlocked the back with his free arm and pulled open the doors before throwing the unconscious woman none too gently inside, her feet slightly sticking out.
"It?" questioned John, wrinkling his eyebrows, standing a bit far from the werewolf. Sure, he was a ghost, but that didn't mean he wanted to invoke the young man's anger.
"The vampire," nodded Tom, gesturing to the unconscious woman, the sheet barely hanging off of her, pale skin clear in the sun.
"It is a woman. Do you even hear yourself right now?" broke John, waving his arms around again, nearly fed up, as if asking the universe if he was the only sane person left. Tom stepped closer to the ghost, looking him in the eye.
"Do you know why I can see you? Why that 'woman' can see you?" John didn't responded, mouth partially open, eyebrows furrowed. Tom didn't sound particularly mad but he did seem just a tad aggravated.
"I'm a werewolf. My father was a werewolf. We use to kill vampires. They exist. How could one man kill your entire team? It wasn't a man, that's why." The woods were silent, as if all the animals had stopped as Tom's voice got lower and darker. John stood still, searching the man's eyes for some sort of joke, some lie.
"I don't know if I can believe you," the ex-officer finally breathed, voice nearly a whisper.
"You're dead. You're dead and you're still walking around, right? If ghosts exist, what else do?" John's eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at the caravan, where the woman's bare feet were hanging out the back.
"How do you know she's one? A vampire?"
"When you're attacked by one, you either end up dead, like you, or one of them," explained Tom with a shrug, returning to his near disinterested attitude. John nodded slowly in understanding.
"And because her body actually got up and moved, she must be a vampire," concluded the ghost.
"Yeah, and the only way to kill a vampire is-"
"Staking it. I know the lore, yeah," interrupted John, looking down at the ground, trying to set straight all the information he was receiving. Tom watched him for a moment, unable to really read what John was feeling, but took it as acceptance. He reached for the stake in his belt loop, this time intent on finishing what he started in the morgue. That is, until he heard a voice from the back of the caravan, hearing the woman, no, vampire, he corrected, waking up from the blow to the head.
"Eughh," groaned the recently turned vampire, one hand going to the wound on her head that was already starting to close up, courtesy of the vampire healing she didn't even know she was a lucky receiver of. Taking her hand back, the woman caught sight of the blood, dark red against her palm. She tilted her head, staring at the liquid, something about it enticing her. Her dry throat called out for a drink, and her own blood was looking like her only option.
"You'll throw up." The voice with the peculiar accent snapped the blonde out of her trance, and in less than a second she was fumbling with the sheet, pulling it up around herself. Tom and John were standing at the back door of the caravan, staring at her, Tom with pity, John with confusion.
"What?" asked the blonde, narrowing her eyes.
"Drinking your own blood. It'll make you vomit." The woman looked back down at her stained hand that had also ruined the white sheet. Her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed for a moment in thought before they widened, now in realization.
"I'm one of them," she breathed, before looking up at the pair. "One of those things."
"So you understand why I need to kill you?" asked Tom, moving his hand to the hilt of the stake in his belt. The woman didn't seem to hear him, her view unfocused at she mumbled under her breath.
"The uncle…he was one of them, like Cooper…he turned me into one." She looked to be broken, choking on her breath as her clean hand moved to her neck, resting on a particular area, probably where she was bitten. Tom watched in silence, hand still against the hilt of the stake as he watched the woman in front of him break down.
"You don't have to kill her, do you?" John asked, glancing at the werewolf. Tom just stared at the woman attempting to staunch her tears, and failing horribly. He had never thought he'd see a vampire cry in front of him, and not because they were about to face death, real death.
"Tom I want you to live a different life now, one that's decent…Let it end. I want you to be human now. Stop the chaotic violent life: make this the end of that story."
"No. I suppose not."
:::
Cooper is the detective dude that Nancy asked to analyze Mitchell's fingerprints. I figured that after him attacking her and witnessing a stake through his heart (obvious vampire thing) she'd catch on, especially after Herrick (Uncle Billy) killed her.