We should never try to deny the beast – the animal within us. - Dr. George Waggner, The Howling

Part Two

Newkirk was not really awake. His eyes were open and he was aware of Hogan and Klink bickering. He knew he was in the cooler, on a bunk in the back cell. Klink had locked him in here before, before he could withstand the dawn sickness or when the hunger got too great. But he was more aware of the pain in his half healed shoulder, the hum of blood memories in the back of his mind threatening to surge to the foreground and the ever present hunger that was even sharper than usual.

Still, it was controllable, they must have given him quite a bit of blood. His identity swam as his control wavered, for one moment he was himself, then Carter, LeBeau, Hogan, Kinch. He could almost step right out of himself and into those moments of being them. He could see himself through their eyes.

It was the reason, he assumed, that most vampires were bloody crackers. They were less people and more walking committees of fragments of other people. With every feeding a vampire changed, became a little bit of their victims, a little less of themselves. The worst ones were the vampires convinced that they could control it, that they were above the influence of the blood memories. The best ones fed as little as possible and surrendered to their fate, learning to compartmentalize the memories.

Newkirk didn't fight them or try to control them now that he had slipped into them, he just allowed them to roll over him. He saw, felt, tasted things the lads would never want anyone else to know, secrets, sins, shame, fears and loves. He would experience them, know them and then tuck them all away where he would pretend to forget them.

He sunk down into deep sleep, sleep not brought on by the power of the sun but healing sleep, until raised voices roused him. His keen ears gave him a general idea of what was taking place. Klink was yelling at Schultz. Hogan was trying to calm Klink down. Klink was yelling at Hogan. Schultz was inhaling a sandwich by the sounds of it, fairly unconcerned by all of the yelling.

Newkirk licked his lips and tried to talk, to get their attention. But he was still too weak, his voice strained by his use of unfettered magic earlier. It would be hours yet before he could properly speak, maybe another day.

Klink's wolf ears caught the change in Newkirk's breathing and he stopped mid bellow. He called out "Peter?" It was not usual for the two of them to use first names, Klink must be feeling insecure.

A moment went by and Klink opened the cell door. He was in his dressing gown now, clean and alert. The Kommendant was much recovered from how he was when Peter had seen him earlier.

Newkirk lacked the ability to respond aloud so he projected through their tie. /I am awake Kommendant./

Thr wolf scowled in response. "None of that. You don't have the blood to spare for spells, even that one." Klink's scowl deepened as his head appeared over Newkirk's. "And too many men will ask questions if we try to get you anymore. Did you get enough to heal?"

Newkirk nodded and winced at the movement. If it had been just a wolf bite it would have healed nearly instantaneously, even with his normal blood ration. But Klink's cursed nature was nearly as dangerous to a vampire as silver, worse in certain occasions.

If he was better fed he would have been up hours before. But he refused to hunt the way his "siblings" did, and that limited his options for sustenance. Besides what was forced on him at the Castle six months ago at his rebirth, his repast came only from the transfusions Klink scared up for him every two weeks or so. 13 feedings in the six months he had been a vampire, 14 counting today. It wasn't near enough.

He nearly vanished beneath the weakness, overcome by the memories and his own drifting thoughts. But then a very important voice ran cautiously out into the cell, jolting him back to reality.

"Newkirk?" Hogan sounded odd to Peter, meek and unsure of himself. His form was a dark shadow against the bright lights in the hall, the termoil in his heart a palpable smell. Newkirk would hear the tremor in his voice.

"Guv'ner." He mouthed. Concern spread through him. Uncertainty as to what the guvner would think. About how he would handle what Newkirk was, what he had become. The scattered pieces of Hogan's blood memories did little to assage his suspicions.

Hogan looked away towards the far wall. "Klink tells me that you couldn't have told me what happened, that someone placed a geas on you."

Newkirk swallowed hard and managed to say. "It's a bloody lie sir." Talking was like swallowing glass but he managed to be loud enough that Hogan made it out.

Klink gave Newkirk a displeased look but kept his physical mouth shut. /It was a perfect excuse./ He sulked, sitting on the edge of the cot.

It was a nice gesture, especially considering six months earlier the two of them were barely on speaking terms. It's amazing what secrets, horrifying experiences and death, could do to bring people together.

But if Hogan was going to know the truth, he was going to know the whole truth. No matter what he ended up thinking about Newkirk.

Hogan nodded, he hadn't believed Klink. Nothing that had happened to the Kommendant had made the German a better liar. He was a great omitter of truth, but a terrible liar.

Still, a part of Hogan would have liked it to have been true. It was better than thinking Newkirk had kept his commanding officer in the dark, that he had chosen not to trust Hogan. Though he had no idea how someone would bring up the subject of 'By the way I became a vampire while you were in Paris, please don't send me back to London in a padded wagon'. Guilt attempted to choke him, no matter how it had happened he was sure it wasn't pleasant and sure he could have prevented it if he had refused the mission to leave Stalag 13 for those three weeks.

"When you feel better we have a lot to talk about." Hogan's voice was more composed now, more in control, more disappointed sounding. "Get some rest first." He worked up the courage to look his man in the face. There he saw defeat and pain battling with exaustion behind his eyes.

Newkirk knodded solemnly. It would be as he feared since VonSchloss had killed him in Dunkler Wald and fed him the Mondblut to bring him back again. He was going to loose everything.

Klink bared his teeth at Hogan. The gesture was made far less terrifyingly by his human face than it would have been on his canine one, but still surprising enough for Hogan to take a step backwards. There was a great deal of raw agression still left over from his unplanned shift, and very human frustration.

He could smell Hogan's disappointment and Newkirk's pain. "Are you finished? He is not up for visitors. I told you to wait out there with Schultz." Klink snapped. The wolf bristled, unhappy as to the state of his pack member.

"Stop treating me like a puppy Kommendant." Newkirk whispered. "I will be fine in a little bit." He squeezed Klink's wrist, begging him to calm down.

"You will be asleep in a little bit, fine maybe in a few days. Dawn is in a few minutes." Klink gave Hogan a hard look. "And stop talking, you are fortunate you didn't damage your throat more than you did."

Newkirk nodded and allowed his eyes to slide shut. The dawn sickness washed back over him as the first light of the sun pierced through the morning clouds.

"Damaged his throat?" Hogan looked at Klink in surprise. "How?"

"You have a lot to learn Hogan, especially about vampires. Wolves like myself and bears like Schultz are easy to figure out. We are wolves and bears. Vampires are the tricky ones, especially Edler Vampir like Newkirk."

"Elder?"

"Edler. Don't pretend you don't know what I am saying. I know what goes on in this camp, I can smell it. Smells where no prisoner should be. Newkirk won't tell me anything but I can smell it. I smell you everywhere, outside the wire, in town, by blown up factories. Everywhere I smell prisoners." Klink shooed Hogan completely out of the cell and closed it behind him. He fixed Hogan with a hard look through his monocle. A thousand ways to start the conversation ran through his mind and were instantaneously scrapped. Finally he just started.

"Hogan, I have no more love for the Third Reicht to bleed out. It all died in Schloss-Albtraum. I have had my own secrets to hide from the Father Land. So do not treat me like a Fool. I do not care about your secrets. But Newkirk and I share secrets. If you know his, then you know mine. I begged him not to tell you. Frankly I am surprised he agreed. He respects you very much and he is very afraid of how you are going to react. Some basic information may help you when you two talk come nightfall. If you take it badly and make a mess of it I will feed you to Schultz."

Hogan squinted at him, weighing all the new information he had gotten the last twenty four hours, sensing the lack of any true threat in Klink's words. He wished he could forget most of it. But no ignorant man ever had the upper hand in anything. "Very well. What do I need to know?"

End of Part Two

I want you to believe...to believe in things that you cannot. - Bram Stoker, Dracula