The Crow and the Falcon. (Twelve)

They'd finally managed to drag Cookie away from the hospital at two in the morning. Jess and Mike's dad had picked them up, insisting the distraught girl stay with them, and giving in to Zia, Stefan and Damon staying at Cookie's insistence. She'd wanted all her friends there, she'd said. She wanted them were she could see them, where she couldn't lose anyone else. They'd humoured her with out of kindness. She'd been worse when her father had died, refused to let her mother and brother out of her sight. Now her only immediate family were both ill, the Webbers wanted to cushion the blow as much as possible.

The remaining six of them sat in Jess and Mike's sitting room, silent and subdued, the early morning grey doing nothing to cheer them. Cookie was huddled on the couch, head resting on Mike's chest and a blanket wrapped around her. She was unresponsive to them, barely acknowledging their worried queries.

"What do we do now?" Jess asked finally. "What do we do without Cookie's mom?"

"We do it ourselves." Stefan sighed. "Like we were prepared to do in the first place."

"But what about Cookie?" Zia pointed out. "We need her."

"You've got me." Cookie mumbled, stirring at last. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy from all the crying, and her cheeks were blotchy. "/They/ did this. I know what they did, and they're going to pay /dearly/ for it." She hissed.

"Bruce and Lydia did this? But I thought it was medical..." Zia trailed off at Damon's arched brow.

"A little coincidental that it would happen to them both, don't you think?" He asked, then turned to Cookie. "So what is it, dare I ask?"

"Evil. That's what it is." She sighed. "I don't know the details. If I did, I'd undo it."

"But you have an idea." Damon paused as the door opened behind him.

Hazel Webber put her head round the door, eyes dark from lack of sleep. "I'm sorry, sweety." She addressed Cookie, eyes sad. "I've been trying to get hold of your Granny Tate all morning, but there isn't any answer. I'll keep at it, though. I'm sure we'll get hold of her soon."

"Thanks." Cookie whispered, hanging her head.

"Jess, don't forget...you know." Hazel turned to her daughter, who in turn scowled back in annoyance.

"I /know/, mom. I'm not going to forget." She said, hunching over her knees, eyes hooded. Her mother held up her hands in apology, and closed the door quietly behind her as she left.

"Don't forget what?" Damon asked, interested.

"None of your business." Jess snapped, then changed the subject. "What's Cookie's theory, then?"

"A spell. A bad, bad spell. They did it with blood, probably, maybe hair. Something personal, something genetic."

"Did what?" Stefan asked, confused, trying to pull her to the present. She was muttering to herself mainly, seemingly forgetting the rest of them. "What did they do."

"Attacked them with some kind of spell, something that would get the whole family. That's why they're in comas. They're trying to fight it off, but it'll drain them, kill them. They'll waste away. They'll leave me." She whispered miserably.

"Cookie, hold on there. You said it would attack the whole family. If that's true, why aren't you affected?" Stefan asked, even more confused than before. She was babbling. "Cookie, why aren't you in a coma?"

"She's adopted." Jess said at last, after it was apparent Cookie wasn't going to reply.

"Adopted." Cookie muttered. "I lost my birth family, now I lose this one." She cried mournfully. Stefan looked at her sadly. Damon's was filled with pity.

Jess continued quietly. "Her parents couldn't have kids, so they adopted Cookie, practically new- born. They discovered a few weeks later that Abigail was pregnant with Adam. I guess it could have ended badly for Cookie, but Abigail and Toby loved them both equally, regardless of the fact she was adopted."

"What happened to her father?" Stefan asked.

"He died about six years ago. Of a brain tumour." Zia told him. "They didn't find it until it was advanced. He only lived for a few more weeks after finding out. It devastated the whole family, but they pulled through. But this..." Zia sighed. "I don't know how Cookie'll cope if they don't pull through."

"We'll make them pull through, then." Stefan muttered, watching Cookie. She'd had her attention on them for a few minutes now.

"But I don't know how." Cookie moaned.

"Then we'll find a way." Damon told her sternly.

"Promise?" She asked, hope shining through the pain. She looked like a lost and vulnerable child.

"I /swear/. If they did it, we can undo it, and we'll start by undoing /them/." Stefan clamped down on a shudder. The savage gleam to his brother's eye was chilling. *He really means this.* Stefan thought with wonder. *Does he /really/ care that much?*

"If we're going to get anywhere, though, we need you to pull yourself together." Mike said softly, stroking her hair. "Think you can do that?"

"I think so." Cookie nodded, a fire in her eyes.

"So what do we do?" Zia asked.

"We get that thing out of them. Leave that to me." She said. "We need a place where no one will interfere."

"Our apartment." Stefan offered.

Cookie nodded.

"If you're sure. You guys have to work out how to get Bruce and Lydia there without arousing their suspicion. It might alert the spirit is they're suspicious."

"I think I know a way to do that." Damon said, a grim smile on his face.

"Good. The sooner we do this the better."

"Is tonight too soon?"

"I can be ready. It's up to you. Just don't let them know you're with me." She took a deep breath, then faced her friends. "I don't want you in there. I don't want you in danger. You can't do anything, so it's better if you're well away."

"Cookie..." Jess began to protest.

"No, Jess. You won't be of any use. It'd be better if you just kept an eye on things around town. If I fail, all hell /might/ break loose."

"She's right, Jess." Stefan told the red head. "It's better if we stay out. Cookie knows what she's doing." He was a little surprised at himself. For once, he wasn't demanding to do it himself, for once he was letting the humans take things into their own hands. It was because he had no choice, he realised, that there was nothing much he /could/ do. Except hope and pray that Cookie could do it.

"I'm staying with you." Damon spoke up. It was a statement, and his voice left no room for argument. Stefan swelled with pride.

Cookie stared at him a moment, meeting his defiant gaze. She nodded. "Fine. But the rest of you keep a distance. If we fail, you're the backup. You'll be all that's ready to stop it."

~*~

"We're leaving this evening." Bruce muttered around a mouthful of burger.

"Won't that seem a little weird?" Lydia frowned. "I mean, Aunt Abby, Adam and Cookie are in hospital, and we just up and leave?"

"I don't think anyone will think that. After all, Aunt Abby can't take care of us." He smirked. "Everyone will assume we've gone home."

"But what about when mom and dad call to see how we are?"

"Like they'll care. So far as they're concerned, Aunt Abby'll call /them/ if there's a problem. They aren't going to bother to call themselves."

Lydia sighed. "I guess you're right."

"I know it sucks. But if they won't care for us, we'll do it."

"We gonna go by bus?"

"I guess so. Seems the easiest way."

"It seems kind of scary, being on our own." Lydia chewed her lip nervously.

"We'll be fine." Bruce grinned. "You'll see."

Lydia peered around Bruce's shoulder. "There's a kid looking at us." She frowned. Seeing her look, the boy walked over to them.

"Are you Bruce and Lydia Franklin?" He asked.

"Who wants to know?" Bruce asked, his stomach suddenly knotting with nerves.

"Uh, I have a message for you." He said, proffering an envelope.

"Who gave this to you?"

The boy looked puzzled. "I...I'm not sure. A guy. I think." He frowned. "That's weird. I don't really remember."

"Have you got to wait for a reply?" Lydia asked.

"No. Not that I remember."

"Well why are you still standing there, then?" She snapped, glaring. The boy gulped, and backed away hastily. Lydia turned to her brother, who was fingering the envelope. Creamy coloured, the paper was expensive. "Well, open it." She urged him. Bruce picked up his dinner knife, and slit the top of the envelope open. The writing paper was also expensive looking, the writing on it bold and elegant. Bruce's hands began to shake, and he let the paper fall to the table, face pale. Lydia swiped it up to read it for herself.

::We know who you are. We know what it is you've done.
::It would be to your advantage to meet us at eleven tonight.
::Perhaps we can come to an...arrangement.

"We're in trouble." Bruce whispered.

"Maybe." Lydia said nervously.

"Do we go?"

"It's probably for the best. It might benefit us in the long run."

The pair of them sat there for a short while longer, waiting for guidance from the spirit. But it never came. Exchanging a nervous glance, they rose from the table and left the diner in a subdued manner. They were both afraid. Very afraid.

~*~

There had been an address printed clearly on the bottom of the note, and it was outside that door that the brother and sister now stood.

"You think whoever wrote the note is actually here?" The impatience could be heard clearly in Lydia's voice.

"One way to find out." Bruce growled, trying the handle. He grunted in surprise as it clicked, and opened it in to the darkened room. He snorted. "Seems to be into theatrics. The lights are off." He told his sister.

"They might not be here. Did that thought enter your thick head?" Lydia told him scornfully, closing the door behind her. "Just find the light switch. Even if they aren't here, we might as well find /something/ about them."

"I think we should just leave." Bruce muttered, fumbling in the darkness.

"What, and have whoever it is telling the police? They'd be after us in no time. We wouldn't stand a chance. Besides, we can...deal...with them if necessary." Lydia's laugh tinkled through the darkness.

"I suppose you're right." His voice rose a notch in satisfaction. "Ah, I found it." He flipped the light switch, then whirled round in alarm as Lydia choked down on a scream. It was the last person he expected, but he stood up straight, and masked his emotions.

Cookie lounged on the couch, twiddling a lock of blue hair around her fingers, a menacing glower on her face.

~*~

Cookie had sat in the darkness quietly, resisting the urge to speak, to give herself away. Damon had written the note, made the messenger forget. It was safer that way, he was safer, and they were safer. Cookie's only worry had been that her cousins wouldn't take the bait, and it had worried her until she heard their voices in the hall. Now she worried about the task ahead.

"Cookie. Hi. Ah. I thought you were in hospital." Bruce's eyes flitted nervously, avoiding hers.

"Your spell didn't work on me." She said, satisfied to see the pair flinch. "I'm adopted, not blood related to mom or Adam. So the spell didn't work on me." She sighed sadly. "Why? Why did you do it?" She asked finally, voice choked with emotion.

Events caught up with Lydia. Things were blowing up in her face and she couldn't take it. She flipped. "Why? You have to ask /why/?" She shrieked. "Your family ruined ours. Your damn mother just /had/ to go and tell ours that dad was having an affair. If she hadn't things would still be good. Mom and dad would still be together, they wouldn't be arguing all the time, hating each other. Hating us. She ruined our family, so we ruined /hers/. It's only fair."

"That's why we summoned the spirit. So it could help us. So we could get our revenge on you. It's more than powerful enough." Bruce smirked.

"But it wasn't mom's fault." Cookie whispered. "She only did it because she cared about her sister."

"It destroyed everything we knew, everything we cared about. We were happier not knowing." Bruce growled.

"But it was still /your/ dad in the wrong. Not /my/ mom." Cookie choked. "/Nothing/ warrants what you did to her. To Adam. They're dying. Slowly, horribly. You and your parents, your family are still alive. /You/ are killing mine."

"And you'll be joining them." Bruce laughed cruelly.

Cookie shook her head sadly. She'd hoped that they'd have /some/ feelings of compassion, of regret. She didn't think that they would be reduced to this, so inhuman. She sighed, focusing her attention on her cousins, on their souls.

"Get out." She ordered.

"We're not going anywhere." Lydia giggled.

"I'm not talking to you." Cookie snapped. "I'm talking to /it/. Whatever /it/ is that you called up and made a bargain with."

"You're not separating us that easily." Bruce laughed.

Cookie sighed and hung her head. "No. I didn't think it would be that easy. I was being hopeful. Plan B, then."

Bruce arched a brow. "Plan B? Oh, I'm shaking in my boots."

"You should be." Cookie growled.

"We'll see." Lydia smirked.

((Damon?)) Cookie thought. ((You can show yourself now.))

"She's right, you know." Damon's voice rang out from the shadows, filled with detached amusement.

Bruce and Lydia started, eyes wide, unable to pinpoint his exact location. "Show yourself." Bruce commanded, not entirely masking his unease.

"You didn't say the magic word." Damon laughed shortly.

"Which? We know many?" Lydia giggled again.

"Your giggling is irritating. Maybe you should stop it before you damage someone's ear drum. Or before I rip out your throat." A shadow from the corner nearest the door coalesced into Damon, and Lydia's giggling choked off. "What a relief." Damon flashed a smile, and moved smoothly next to Cookie.

"And what do you think /he/ can do?" Bruce sneered.

"More than you'd think."

"I don't think a /boy/ like you is any threat to /us/." Bruce laughed.

"Don't bet on it." Cookie muttered.

"I could kill you without a second thought. It won't mean anything to me." Bruce sneered menacingly at Damon, who in turn smiled back, turning the charm on.

"Oh, I can do that. But I'll /enjoy/ it." Damon laughed. "More to the point, what makes /me/ far more dangerous than /you/ is that I /have/ done it. I've killed countless people, many for looking at me the wrong way, for saying the wrong thing. What have /you/ done?" Damon advanced slowly on Bruce, jabbing a finger at him. "Killed a few helpless teenagers. Forced another into a coma - for which, by the way, I am going to make you pay /dearly/." He stopped and leaned forward, his eyes inches from Bruce's. "You see, you're not in my league. What you've done, I've done a hundred times worse. Only with more style. And as for whatever that entity is inside of you both, I don't know what /it's/ done, except that without it, you wouldn't have done /anything/ right now." He reached over and held Lydia's chin with his thumb and fore-finger. "And now, my pretty, is where it all ends. And you're going to help."

"Never." Lydia spat.

"I think you will." Cookie warned. "You won't like the other alternative."

"Which is?"

"A meeting with the Grim Reaper." Damon laughed. "And I'll be wielding the scythe."

"You see, we need to get that thing out of you to get rid of it. You can either /willingly/ let it out of your bodies, or you can die, and it'll release itself." Cookie explained.

"What would a kid like you know?" Lydia snorted.

"A lot more than you." Damon retorted. "You see, this kind of thing is her life. She doesn't 'dabble' like you do. She's been brought up with this, and knows what she's doing."

"So does /it/." Bruce laughed. "And /it's/ not afraid of using black ways. What's more, you have to /catch/ me first." He bolted out of the door, the catch falling and locking it behind him.

"Dammit!" Cookie yelled, starting rattling the door handle. "Where's the stupid key? We need them both for the spirit to be captured. If we only release it from one, it'll find and enter the other one. Then it'll be whole, and too strong to deal with."

"Oh, this just gets better and better." Damon rolled his eyes, grabbed the door handle, and, to Cookie and Lydia's surprise, ripped it off it's hinges. ((Keep an eye on the harlot in there.)) He thought to Cookie as he shot out of the door. Outside he cast his mind out to find Bruce's, then took to the air.