They stayed the rest of the night to make sure Everard didn't return, neither speaking; but with no sign of him. Van Helsing was set back to waiting for the full moon when, Rossalyn assured him, he would come.

Things between them were awkward and forced. She was clearly ready to go back to the way things had been Van Helsing was the one who wasn't quite ready to return the sentiment. He didn't call on her anymore, though he couldn't help himself going to check on her during some evenings, Everard's threats still fresh in his mind.

It wasn't that he didn't care about her anymore. He still loved her like she was his sister, but emotions other than that were running through his mind, and he was too confused to try and sort them out. Some part of him, while acknowledging it wasn't her fault, wasn't ready to forgive her springing that on him. Even more appealing, as long as he was angry, he didn't have to sort through how he felt about her.

Rossalyn at the same time had rarely been more depressed. She knew he had been coming to check on her, smelling him, and sensing his presence. But she didn't reveal that she knew. She held his scent close to her, praying it meant he still cared about her, and wasn't just searching for Everard. She was angry at herself and rarely slept.

She had never trusted or felt anything like the people in the town, thinking herself an outcast from them. Rossalyn had trusted few people in her long life, besides her pack, only Michael and Van Helsing.

After being able to reveal so much to him, and having him left now only made her feel more separated and alone then ever before. She thought of Michael often. He had been the closest friend and brother to her she had ever had. Something about his trusting happy nature had drawn her to him. Now when she needed him to tell her she wasn't alone more than ever, she regretted his death deeply.

What she hadn't revealed is that the emotion she experienced on those nights of important phases of the moon was whatever emotion she had been repressing lately.

She had been through: anger quickly turned into rage, happiness turned into ecstasy, fear turned into paranoia, sadness turned into despair; but she had never experienced anything like what had happened that night. This left her in a state of tangled emotions worse than Van Helsing's. She found herself wondering and trying to decipher what she truly felt, though none of it helped.

Many times she considered leaving the town. Leaving, knowing Everard would follow her. She weighed the outcome of leaving a letter for Van Helsing, promising she would destroy Everard before he hurt someone. But after spending so much time with him, she knew he would follow her, and finish the job he started. She feared he would think of it as an irritable act of drama, and through demeaning herself in his eyes, she ignored the thought.

She was ready to wait, wait until Van Helsing destroyed Everard, and left.

One night she got to her knees, and prayed, unaware Van Helsing was outside. She had prayed many times in her long life, usually on those nights where she had been fighting not to turn, she fell to her knees sobbing into her bed.

"God let me forget him! Let this end, let Everard disappear I don't want him to die, and let Van Helsing leave this place. And God let me forget him. Remember every time I did what I thought was right. Forsake it all and simply let me forget him! I thought another Michael had stepped into my life, someone I could confide in, but God don't let my mistake hurt me this much!" She begged.

Van Helsing felt guilty, she clearly wanted only for him to leave, and recently he had prayed for much the same thing. "God willing grant her prayer," was all he whispered softly before turning and leaving.

The night of the full moon was quickly approaching and Van Helsing was ready for the awkwardness between them to end.

The next day he found a letter from her, placed at his door.

Dear Van Helsing,

I release you from your promise you made to me several weeks ago, that you would kill me if I asked you to in thirty days. I remain ever-sorry for what I did, and would take it back at any cost. God grant you speed and strength, for your confrontation with Everard. Don't underestimate him but I have known you both, and know that you are stronger.

God Watch Over You and Goodbye

Your Ever Present Friend,

Rossalyn Michele Calcavanti

The guilt inside him was still strong; but he ignored it and tried to convince himself, it was just one less thing on his mind.

More time passed. Every morning and evening Rossalyn got her knees and prayed to a God she wasn't sure existed. Begging him to deliver Van Helsing and spare his life, and to spare her her own grief. All the while fearing the approaching full moon where she knew she must find a way to resist the call of the Werewolves or die trying.

Van Helsing found himself wishing more and more each day, that the full moon would come and he could finish his duty and leave. Leave his own frustrated feelings, and leave in peace the woman whom he wasn't sure how to refer to anymore.

Finally the first night of the three day cycle of the full moon arrived. A notice was put up that everyone should stay inside which no one, besides a woman with chains under her cloak, disobeyed. She left early, unable to stand the fear the lowering sun struck into her heart. She could already feel his glance upon her from the clock tower, but she ignored it, tonight this was going to end….one way or another.

Van Helsing watched as she, a lone figure, moving through the town, crossed into the surrounding forest, and he whispered a quick prayer, begging God to spare her life.

Time passed slowly as Van Helsing waited for Everard, so much slower than usual, his thoughts all with Rossalyn. Every time he tried to divert them it all came back to a feeling of unease and constant thoughts of worry for her. He could hear her, "basically it's to suffer temporary insanity." Every now and again he heard cries of pain coming from the section of the forest she had disappeared into, which he knew he was imagining.

His thoughts returned to her for the seventh time he threw his hands up in the air, and shouted at the ceiling, "what am I supposed to do?!" The answer came into his mind as a finite revolution; he had to go make sure she was okay.

Rossalyn was curled up in a heap, she wanted to keep her hands on her sides which felt like they were about to split open in pain; but they were pulled away by the chains. God why wouldn't it just end? It wasn't going to; she had several hours more until dawn. The resilient strong part of her wanted to yell that she couldn't make it; but that part was almost silent now.

The pain was horrifying; her head felt every migraine that had ever existed was trying to crush her. She couldn't have walked if she had wanted to; every muscle in her body was rigid. Pain unlike anything ever felt was coursing through her, expanding the seconds until the stitches of time were bursting, ready to explode trying to contain the eons of pain all shoved into each moment.

The tears were already streaking down her face, unbidden, no sobbing, just filling her eyes to be forcefully blinked away. Her skin felt so hot, like it would smother her out, like a fever was just a gentle heat. She wanted to dig her fingers into her skin, but resisted; she knew it wouldn't ebb the pain for a moment.

She was writhing on the ground trying not to burst into her Were form, she could feel the tug of the moon, she could hear the call of every Werewolf in a fifty mile radius, all calling out to be joined. Every call was like a needle stabbing into where she couldn't wrench it out. She had already wretched the contents of her stomach several times.

Her resistance was ebbing. She wasn't sure she would last the next five minutes, simple thoughts that she had the whole night to wait were torture. "I can't do it," she croaked. She tried to wrench her body free, but the chains bound her to the stupid tree, she knew once turned she could pull out of the ground.

The cool metal of the chains had long ceased to remain cold, and were now burning her skin. Like a fevered night when you can't find a spot of cold in the sheets.

The pain hadn't been this bad in nine years. The realization was real to her, I can't make it. If I turn now, it will be my last, so I better make it worth it. She reached for a moment to stop fighting when a voice rang out, "Rossalyn?"

She immediately threw up her defenses. Who was it? For a moment she feared it was Everard come to finish the job; but Van Helsing emerged from the underbrush and hurried to her side.

He had never seen her look like this, sweat mixed with tears were all coursing down her cheeks, sweat covering her bare skin wherever it was exposed, covered with dirt sticking to it. Her hair was tangled and dirty. Her face was in an expression of anguish, and she was curled up writhing on the ground.

He jumped to her side and pulled her body against his, strong hands on her upper arms. Her back was to his front so she could still coil up, and tremble slightly.

The cool of his body against hers was a moment of bliss in the heat she felt, she used the respite however small to whisper, "Go back Van Helsing. I won't hurt you too."

"If you don't want to hurt me than keep fighting," he whispered in what he hoped was an assuring voice. "You're stronger than this, you always have been. You've beaten this time and time again; this is just one more night." He whispered soothingly into her ear.

"I can't do it," she sobbed brokenly.

"Yes you can, I want you to just listen to my voice. Don't focus on surviving the night, just this moment. I know you can do this. Just fight as hard to save yourself, as you would to save me."

She nodded disconnectedly.

He put an arm across her chest, where he held her shoulder tightly, pulling her against him and a surprisingly gentle hand on her forehead, stroking her hair and cheek, whispering words of assurance into her ear, when she started trembling too hard.

"I'm sorry," she said her voice shaking. "Sorry for what I did."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," he whispered back.

He sat like that all night, any thoughts of Everard banished from his mind. Sure even after, that that was where he needed to be. Any thoughts of discomfort were immediately overshadowed by what he couldn't imagine Rossalyn was feeling.

She trembled all night until dawn, when the sun broke over the hills, and she let out a giant wheeze, trying to return her breathing to normal.

Van Helsing rubbed her arms, where he had had to restrain her a few times. She turned and buried her face into his jacket, wrapping her arms around his neck sputtering, "thank you, thank you." He pulled his arms around her back and held her against him, shushing her gently, an unconscious hand stroking her hair.

He pulled her home quickly, before the other villagers began to wake. He laid her in her bed, warning her if she didn't sleep he would come back with the knock out gas. Before he himself fell onto the little couch in the other room, and dozed off into a light sleep.

She slept until three o'clock in the afternoon, when she woke he wasn't there. For a moment she wondered if it had been a dream until she saw her sweat stained and dirty clothes. She cleaned herself, put on some clean clothes, and ate with the vivacity of Van Helsing when she cooked.

All the while mentally preparing herself for that night, where she had to face it again. Soon afterwards there were steps at the door, it made her start when it was opened; but the familiar figure of Van Helsing quieted her fears.

"Sorry, I thought you might still be sleeping," he said at her alarm. Without a word she crossed the room and wrapped him in an embrace, which he politely returned.

"Thank you for what you did last night," she told him in all seriousness. "You saved my life."

"Then we're even," he smiled. "I can't stay long; I have to get going soon."

"I understand," she smiled faintly.

"I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay tonight."

Rossalyn understood immediately. "The first time's the hardest. Now I know I can do it. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure, I can wait until tomorrow night to go after Everard."

"No! I've been enough of a hindrance! I want you to go and kill him. This needs to end." He nodded, painfully aware of how close they were.

"Okay, I've got to go." Neither seemed quite sure what parting gesture to use, until Rossalyn leaned up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, with what she hoped wasn't too overbearing.

Van Helsing smiled and left.