Episode 5. (Already!) A shift away from Whitechapel, which has become something of a well of despair of late. Reviews, comments, criticisms, suggestions all warmly welcomed.

Street-lights

I wander thro' each charter'd street

"So how is everything?" blurted out Sarah, even before Rory was properly in the window.

Peeling off his sodden coat, Rory shook his head, grimacing. "Worse." He sat down on the left-hand bed with a sigh. "Ethan's just so unpredictable. We do what we can, but, often, that's just not enough. And even when we do manage to save someone, it frequently just feels like he's letting us do it out of – out of pity. Or some crazy, vindictive sport." He lapsed into silence, frowning at the air in front of him.

"How's Benny holding up?" asked Erica, sitting down next to Rory and putting her arm around him. He looked up at her, and edged closer into her side. He kissed her briefly and then rested his head on her shoulder.

"Not well," said Rory sadly. "He's better now – nothing like as locked-in as he was when Ethan left, and we've not quite got as low as the time when Ethan came back – but there are periodic bad spells. For the whole of this last week he's not been good, but the worst of it seemed to break a little yesterday. Enough that I could come away and see you two, at least."

"And Mrs Weir? How's she?" asked Sarah, turning away from the driving rain outside.

"Holding up," said Rory, shrugging resignedly. "She's angry, more than anything. Angry with Ethan, for doing all this." He mopped at his hair with his hand and wiped his hand ineffectually on his jeans. He stared into space thoughtfully again, weighing up the past weeks. "She's more worried about Benny than she lets on, I think. She's terrified that he's going to relapse into a depression he won't be able to get out of. It took her weeks to convince him to let her fix the window. He kept saying that Ethan would write on it if it was fixed."

"And did he?" asked Sarah.

Rory laughed sourly. "Of course. 'Nice to be back! Did you miss me?' Or something like that. So Benny has a broken window again. And another cut in his hand. And, well, right through him, I suppose." He looked sad again, his face smoothing out into a long smear of pity. "Mrs Weir's trying everything she can to see if there's anything that might be able to counter Ethan. But he seems to be an unprecedentedly powerful psychic. He knows everything about what we're going to do before we do it. She's looking for a way to block psychics, but since Ethan is essentially unique, we only know if it works when we're actually up against him." He clenched his fist. "And so far, nothing."

"Are there any plans for defeating him?" asked Sarah.

Rory spread his hands over his knees. "Like what?" He hesitated. "Except –" He looked away from them quickly.

"What?" prompted Erica, giving him a squeeze.

"Well, uh, Evelyn and I, when Benny's not around – which is a lot, lately – we've talked about –" He dropped his voice "whether we would kill him. How. When. If it's even possible." He looked up at them, his eyes suddenly swollen with tears. "We don't want to. It would be the absolute last thing we ever tried – for me, it would be the last thing I ever did – but if it really came to it, we might have to." The pain in his voice clear, he looked pleadingly at them. "But you can't ever let Benny know we've even thought about it."

Rory buried his head in his hands. "Now, please," he said softly, "can we talk about something else?"

"Of course," said Sarah. "I understand." She looked sympathetically at him. "Do you want us to come back to Whitechapel with you?"

"I do, but –" Rory shook his head. "You shouldn't. You should stay here for as long as possible. Don't let him get to you yet."

"Maybe you should bring Benny here," suggested Erica. "Or Mrs Weir. Get them away for a week-end."

Rory nodded. "I'll talk to them about it. I hope that it might help."

"Now," said Sarah, decisively, "what do you want to do now that you're here?" She turned back to the window. "I'm sorry about the weather, but –"

There was a sharp, urgent knock at the door that made all of them jump and needlessly hold their breath. The three of them waited, tense.

"Hello?" came a voice through the door. "It's me, Tony. Can I come in? Is there anyone there?"

Relieved, Sarah glanced at the other two, who shrugged. "Yeah," she called out, "it's open."

Tony poked his head around the open door. He looked worried about something, but that expression was quickly replaced by curiosity when he saw Rory.

Sarah glanced across at Rory. "This is Rory. I don't think you've met. He's, uh, Erica's boyfriend." Even now, after about six months, the words seemed strange in her mouth. Huh. Poor Rory.

Rory jumped up and held out a hand to Tony, who, coming into the room, shook it. Tony smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you. You must be from Whitechapel?"

Rory nodded, wary.

"Were the trains OK?" asked Tony, nodding at the awful weather.

"Hmm?" said Rory, before realising. "Oh, uh, yeah, fine. I – We battled through the storm."

"I think you're the only one of their friends from Whitechapel I've met so far." He grinned at Sarah. "You used to talk about 'Ethan and Benny' all the time. Why do they never come and visit you?"

Sarah covered the awkward silence that ensued as best she could. There was, after all, no way that Tony could have known. It wasn't his fault. She put on a smile. "It's you, Tony. I'm protecting them from the horrific experience of meeting you," she teased.

He laughed brightly; the situation was defused. Then his face dropped into the worried cast that it had had when he first looked around the door. "I'm really sorry to intrude on you all, but I think there's something weird going on." He glanced over at Rory. "Does he know about –?"

"That sometimes weird stuff happens?" said Sarah, suppressing a laugh. "Yeah. He's part of the gang in Whitechapel –"

"The Famous Five!" interjected Rory. Erica batted him over the head.

"We don't actually call ourselves that…" said Sarah, quickly. "So, yeah, whatever creepy goings on you've got to tell us about, Rory can handle it. He might even be helpful."

"Doubt it," muttered Erica, receiving a clip on the ear from Rory as a reward. "Ow!"

"I can be helpful!" said Rory, indignant. He thought. "Except vampires."

Tony snorted. "I'll believe a lot of things, and I've seen a lot of things with Erica and Sarah, but I really don't think that vampires exist."

Sarah gave Rory a significant look. Had he been able to, he would have blushed under its intensity. "Oh, no, vampires aren't real," he said. He grinned. "I was just pulling your leg."

"So," said Erica, seeing the possibility of a week-end with Rory rapidly sliding away, "what's the problem?"

"Rats," said Tony.

Rory perked up and required the combined glare of Erica and Sarah not to express some crass enthusiasm over a potential meal. He sat back down, a little disappointed. Fortunately, Tony was too agitated to notice.

"Really big rats," he elaborated (though only a little). "I saw the tail of one slinking away towards the basement."

(Benny would have muttered an 'Of course' at this point, reckoned Rory.)

"Do you think that's what's responsible for the attacks?" asked Sarah.

Rory looked at them enquiringly.

"Over the last week or so some students and staff have been mauled by some animal," explained Tony. "They told us that it was a dog, but we didn't believe them. I've been keeping watch with these two."

"Where did you see it?" asked Erica.

"B block, on the south side."

Sarah frowned, and then stepped over to the desk at the end of her bed and unrolled a map of the campus. She examined it. "That makes a lot of sense, actually," she said, putting a circle around the building. "Not that we've got this focus, you can see the pattern of the attacks radiating out from there." She held up the map. "See?"

They nodded. "So we head down there and sort it out?" asked Rory.

Erica grinned. "It's what we do, isn't it?"

Rory laughed. "Just like old times, eh?"

Sarah started for the door. "You three go on ahead. I'll catch you up."

As she left, the door banging shut behind her, Tony and Erica rolled their eyes. Rory looked at them curiously. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Oh, you'll see…" said Erica.

Rory raised his eyebrows, and grabbed his coat, leading the way to the door. He opened it. "Let's go!" He hesitated. "Er… I have absolutely no idea where we're going." He stepped back. "Could someone, uh, show me the way?"