Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground.
Beta assistance from TJ4ev and Whimsyfox enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal. Reviews are welcome, loved and encourage prompter updates.
The change in air confirmed they had appeared somewhere. The forest had been cool, breezy. Here was sequestered, and startlingly stuffy. Alex opened her eyes to see the absolute shock on Hal's face.
"You didn't think it was really going to work," she grinned a haughty taunt. "And it totally fucking worked!" She kissed him gleefully and then let go to look around. There were boards up over the glass storefront, but light was peeking through the cracks. Hal shook his head, trying to clear it and checked himself. Everything seemed to be accounted for...
"Is this it? This isn't what you showed me," Alex was craning her neck left and right to look around. The room was empty with only a display case covered in dust, empty shelves, and sun shadows on the wall where things used to be hung.
Hal felt like Alex hadn't just merely teleported them, but shocked him somehow in the process. His head was pounding to the rhythm of her heartbeat and he felt his fatigue momentarily wash over him. When he opened his mouth to speak, the movement of his jaw made his ears pop as if they had suddenly descended from a great height. He wasn't certain, but elevation-wise, they may have done just that. She reached for his arm with growing concern, "Shite - you're okay, right?"
He took a steadying breath. It was all quickly passing. "This is it. They must have sold everything when it closed. And yes, I'm all here it would seem."
Alex, relieved he was okay, said with renewed excitement, "This is incredible! You know what this means? We can go anywhere! You've been all over, right? Oh! You've been to Paris!"
"Alex, please," he waved a hand for her to stop moving so much. Leaning against the counter he looked around them and sighed. They wouldn't be able to leave via the front since it was boarded up. He wondered if there was another door. "Places I've been - it was half a century ago or more. Too much has changed. I knew this would be empty, but you can't have me appearing out of nowhere in front of people. How would that even work?"
Her face fell, but she pressed on, "We'd figure something out, I think." Her excitement dropped as she came over, leaning an elbow on the counter next to him. "It'll still work for Grimsay though, right?"
"Perhaps. I'll need to reflect on my memories of there. It's remote enough I should be able to think of an appropriate place..." he admitted wearily with a sigh. "But not tonight. I need to go home."
Alex straightened and tried to hook her arms around his waist, but he held up a hand in protest. "Walking would be preferable, if you don't mind."
"What about the car?" Alex asked.
"Tomorrow. We'll fetch it tomorrow," Hal straightened and eyed the corridor that led to the back room. He could see light under the bottom of the door. "This way."
Allison had kicked off her shoes. With her rainbow striped socks curled under her on the sofa she was leaning quite contentedly against Tom. Before heading back to class that afternoon she had emailed a response to Vinicius, detailing what she saw without mentioning just how close her encounter had been. She had asked about his own sighting and if he truly had seen a "pack" of the Lobisomem, since her experience and research had pointed only to the solitary wolf. Allison was eager to share it all with Tom, but had decided to wait until she had some kind of confirmation that there still was a pack in existence. Maybe, eventually they could travel to meet their fellow wolves.
Allison smiled at the thought of them taking a real holiday together someday, and leaned into Tom. Most evenings it had become their routine to snuggle on the sofa while studying. Unlike most evenings, however, tonight was the rare occurrence of having the house entirely to themselves. Tom was taking full advantage of the fact by massaging her shoulders whilst pressing himself suggestively into her backside, which proved to be quite the distraction. She set aside her Foundations of Legal Knowledge coursework on the cushion, giving Tom her full attention. She enjoyed his polite ministrations for a brief moment before turning to catch him in a surprise kiss. His beautiful eyes still sought approval before he would touch her more brazenly. She kissed him again, fully this time and he finally caved.
They were involved in quite the enthusiastic snog session, her hands on the button and zip of Tom's trousers and his completely underneath her jumper, when steps on the front walk froze them both. In a fluster they righted themselves. Allison pressed herself against Tom's lap once more to hide certain excitements, retrieved her book, and tried to to appear composed. The door opened and Alex entered, followed by Hal. He paused to drop his keys into the dish at the bar with a clatter.
"Heya guys," Alex greeted, perching on a barstool. Hal leaned against the bar beside her.
Tom pointedly looked between the both of them, and then at the shiny gold clock on the wall. "Why you home so late?" It wasn't normal for them to miss supper without a note. Hal glanced at the floor before meeting his eyes, and Tom caught something in his friend's demeanor that made him sit up a little straighter. "What happened then? Waz wrong?"
Alex could sense Hal's reluctance. They hadn't really thought about what they would tell their friends. Rook hadn't said not to, but he also hadn't included them in his plans. "The Regulatory Office is already calling in their favour," Hal started. "Rook has asked me to do something for him."
"Is it something to do with that vampire t'was here?" Tom asked, ever astute.
"If only it were that simple," Hal sighed, and then he told them all of it. From Richard Turner's business card, to Rook knowing about the visit, which confirmed his presence.
Through the recounting of the bombings and the mission they were tasked with, Allison had a thoughtful but distant look as she swiftly dredged through it all. This confirmed what she had already been investigating! However, she was quite surprised to learn of such systematic destruction from a supposed invisible pack. She was about to enquire if Rook had mentioned anything further about the bombing in Brazil, but noticed a shift in Tom. His face had fallen from concerned puzzlement into a scowl, his brows knitted together sharply. He had remained leaning into the corner of the sofa with her while they listened but at Hal's conclusion, he shook his head and looked away. When he looked back, he was visibly angry.
"You owned dogfight rings," Tom stated sullenly, before lifting his chin to Hal. "Were you ever goin'ta actually tell me? And all those threats from the chair? You really could have..."
"You know that's not me. Not now," Hal rebutted calmly. "And, I don't anymore. Not personally anyway."
"Why didn't you say?" Tom stood up, startling Allison. He shook his head as he tried to suppress a rapidly growing rage, his fists clenching at his sides.
"It was in the past, Tom. I didn't think you wanted to know the details."
"Yeah, but dogfights Hal?!" Tom full on shouted.
"What does it matter now? They're getting blown up! Which, I would have thought was a favour!" Hal raised his voice in frustration and then stopped. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. Tom had every right to be angry.
Tom had gone very quiet as he watched Hal compose himself. Both Allison and Alex were eerily silent as well, sensing that the strain of tight tension between the two friends was enough to slit a throat on.
When Tom spoke again, his quiet words were almost more threatening. "McNair was turned in a dogfight," he stated simply. Hal met Tom's eyes with dread filling his stomach. Tom looked at him plainly and continued, "Yeh. One of the rare humans that lived to walk away. But not unscratched."
"I'm sorry Tom. I didn't know," Hal stated, feeling the weakness of his apology. He understood the breadth of Tom's anger now. If Hal was responsible for the dogfights, then in turn he was responsible for McNair, even if indirectly. Which meant indirectly, Hal was also responsible for Tom. Like ripples on a lake, the transgressions of his past continued outward far beyond the original impact of his deeds. How could he ever make this right? He couldn't.
Hal struggled to at least explain, "I didn't mean to keep it from you. It just... was no longer relevant to my life. I walked away from that - from all of it. I staged my own death to help Leo escape, but it was my escape as well. We managed to get away and then I was free of it. I thought they would shut down after my disappearance. For a while, they did. I'm sorry Tom."
Tom looked at Hal a long time, his expressive eyebrows mashed together. When he finally spoke his tone was softer than his words. "Sorry don't make it right." Tom brushed past him, grabbed his coat and was out the door before any of them could stop him.
Hal watched through the window as Tom took off running up the street. Watched as Allison leapt after him, shouting his name in her striped stockings from their steps. Tom kept running.
He ran until he didn't recognize where he was. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs screaming in protest drowned out everything else. It felt wicked good.
More and more, Tom felt like a little paper boat getting battered by a storm. One thing after another and his direction no longer clear. He was spinning against things he couldn't control. Hal's revelation shouldn't have bothered him so much, but it did. How could he have kept such a monumental thing concealed? Weren't they friends? Tom felt betrayed more than anything. How could he have been so blind?
Hal had told him, in small ways he supposed. Tom knew that he had freed Leo from a dogfight. Which meant Hal had to have been in a position to get close to the fight victims in the first place. And in London, when he and Allison were held captive - Hal knew right where they were. He owned a storage bay on the very same street!
More than anything, Tom felt foolish. Stupid. Which he was feeling a lot of these days. He wasn't cut out for book learning. Allison tried to help, and she did help, even with her already full-time course load. She was the one part of his life that Tom wasn't confused about. He loved her more than anything. But Tom still felt drastically overwhelmed with just how much he didn't know. Basic, simple stuff everyone learns as kids continually hid revelations for him. His learning leaned towards survival - not spelling and grammar. He wasn't stupid, just woefully unprepared. But even knowing that didn't make sitting in class any easier.
Tom had made it all the way down to the warehouses past the docks. The lights had gotten further apart, and hardly any traffic interrupted his run. Due to the circling thoughts he had been lost in, it took him a moment to recognize the subtle echo of his footfalls as not actually an echo.
Matching his stride step for step, Tom was being followed.
Hal was reading Ulysses. At least, he was trying to. Joyce's dry words did nothing to break past the stormy thoughts of guilt and worry over his friend. It had been hours and Tom had not returned. Eventually, Allison changed her mind about waiting for Tom to 'run it off and come back', had donned her shoes and shoulder bag, and driven out to look for him. Alex was obviously torn about leaving Hal, but he had encouraged her to go. She could rent-a-ghost and check places Allison couldn't from the car. It went unspoken that Hal should remain.
He heard them come in downstairs, Allison's voice was weary and Alex's response too soft to make out. Tom was not with them. Hal gave up the pretense of the book, set it down beside him, and was rubbing his temples when Alex appeared.
"You alright?" she asked.
The question startled him in its absurdity. He met her eyes and answered her with an unrestrained, sharp barb of self-loathing, "I'm a dogfighting mass murderer who ruined my best friend's life before he was even born. Why should I be alright?"
Alex swallowed, hesitated briefly, then came to sit beside him on the sofa anyways. "It wasn't your fault," she put her hand over his. "You were in Southend. You had nothing to do with -"
"I turned a blind eye on all of it. I had my little world and that was all I cared about. I should have put an end to it."
"Could you have? Really though?"
Hal was silent. When he spoke again it was with remorse. "Richard never had the political clout to change anything. Besides, he wouldn't have wanted to. Richard has always been a servant to his own personal gain, and the fights were big business."
"So really, the fact that they kept going could be pinned on Richard."
"I didn't tell him not to."
She turned over his hand, linked her fingers through his. "You don't want Rook to stop the bombings, do you..."
Hal huffed with admission, "No. I applaud them, whomever they are. It's about time the Werewolf Army reformed. If it weren't for the potential exposure they will bring."
"Wait - the what? There was a werewolf army?"
"A long time ago, open space was more plentiful and their numbers were greater. Packs were common. We -" Hal caught himself, "the vampires hunted them down. Snow's rule was ruthless. The fights grew out of that, and the Army grew out of the war between us."
"Jaysus. Does Tom know about all that?"
"I don't think he and McNair ever found much of a pack until George and Nina, and they hardly count. The more their numbers dwindled, the more werewolf history was erased. Most live quietly solo these days, like Leo did."
Alex was stunned into silence, but she didn't let go of Hal's hand. Her pulse between them was a present steadiness. He closed his eyes, leaning his head on the back of the sofa. The lamplight made the dark shadows that smudged under his eyes all the more pronounced.
"You need to sleep," she said gently. It all was a lot to process, and she could ask him questions all night. But her care for him outweighed her curiosity. He didn't answer her so she stood, tugging at him to follow her. Hal tilted his head wearily against the sofa and looked up at her. "Come on," she prodded. With a reluctant sigh, he stood and let her lead him across the room.
The tasks of unbuttoning his shirt, hanging it up and removing his vest were all rote. Hal's thoughts had wandered into a region of the distant past he usually tried to avoid, and he doubted sleep would find him. He didn't even note when Alex had slipped free of her jacket and dress. Facing him with her black camisole and leggings hugging her curves, she put a hand against the bare skin of his chest, imploring his attention. "Hey. Thomas will be okay," she said consolingly. "It was probably the shock more than anything..." Hal didn't respond while he unhooked the clasp of his trousers and stepped clear. He folded them and turned away from her touch to set them aside. Alex pulled back the covers. She scooted in to lay on her side, watching as he sat and removed his watch. "He's smart, but doesn't always put two and two together you know? He wants to believe the best in people. It's amazing really, given his life."
"I know," Hal acknowledged, as if it were given. He joined Alex under the blankets, facing her. "I didn't tell him because I didn't think I'd have to. It was unnecessary to hurt him."
Alex turned out the light with a ghostly push, plunging the room into a soft darkness. She hooked an arm over Hal's waist to draw him close, the contact pleasant despite the conversation. "I'm sleeping with a dogfighting mass murderer. Anything else that I should know?" She meant it as a lighthearted joke, but he answered her seriously.
"Why would you want to? Annie didn't."
"I'm not Annie. And, she wasn't sleeping with you, far as I could tell."
"Actually... there is something I've been meaning to tell you..." Hal's tone remained serious despite her jesting and for a second Alex wondered if she were wrong about Annie. Hal was wicked fit and Annie had been gorgeous. She had only seen them together briefly but they hadn't seemed more than friends… She dismissed the thought. After just how long it took him to even be comfortable with her touch... The next thing Hal said broke her thoughts. "I mentioned I wanted to make something of myself when I left home..."
With a sudden realization dawning, Alex stated, "You weren't ever really a Lord, were ye?"
Hal snorted a small laugh, her question surprising him, "No. God, no." He breathed a heavy sigh, his mirth short-lived. "Although, I am convinced that the chance was the only reason I lived at all."
Alex propped herself up, head in hand. One of the rare times he was opening up to her... His eyes tipped sideways to meet hers and she raised an eyebrow, questioning what he meant.
"I was an unwanted burden in an age when such children did not last... When my monetary usefulness proved false, the supposed sire refusing to claim me - and rightly so... Well, by then they all must have grown fond. The jest stuck."
"They?"
"My mothers. All.. six..." Hal paused, gauging her reaction. Alex merely raised a curious eyebrow so Hal sighed and forged ahead. "I apologize Alex, I truly haven't been certain how to tell you this. It isn't something..." Hal stopped, turned his face away and continued without looking at her. "I was... born in a brothel. And, was..." he paused, searching for the right word, "reared there until all were lost."
She looked at him blankly for a flurry of heartbeats. Hal prepared himself for her anger or disgust as he returned her gaze. Instead, Alex chuffed. "Should that bug me?" She laughed out loud as his face fell. He looked positively aghast at the amusement quaking from her. "Hal, your parentage is the least of the fucked up shit about your past!"
Hal was not amused in the slightest. He started to pull away, sitting up. Alex sobered and caught his arm, stopping him from leaving the bed. He gave her an angry look and she fumbled to explain, "Hey - I'm sorry. I'm sure there wasn't anything funny about it. Just - you're so bloody posh, it caught me by surprise." Hal's expression did not change, but he didn't leave. "You being some Lord from back in the day was an easy assumption to believe. But - I can't ever assume anything with you, can I?" She smiled, trying to put him at ease, "I'm curious though. About all of it. About who you were..."
"I was no one," his voice softened. The admission was also a dismissal.
With a gentle pull on his arm, she coaxed him close. "No," she kissed his shoulder. "Maybe it was shite, but you were still someone." Alex slid her hand from his arm to wrap around his chest, holding him to her. "For a brief and formative time, you were human. Really human. And... I can only imagine what a childhood like that must have been like. But you weren't no one. You could never be no one."
Hal pulled away her grasp, turning his head to face her over his shoulder. At his dubious stare Alex tilted her head with a quirky smile. "Besides. I'm glad you weren't really a Lord. You're pompous enough without it," she smirked before catching him with a kiss, much to his shock.
He didn't return her advance, so she paused, searching his eyes. He was regarding her in the most peculiar fashion, as if he couldn't believe she were real. She was about to say some other quip to goad away his mood, but he shifted to face her fully and cupped her cheek. Hal's light and delicate touch contrasted with the intensity of his gaze. When he kissed her it was present and immediate. Alex felt such a surge of passion and hope that she nearly melted. He was here, with her wholly. He was kissing her with not just the perfection of a practiced lover, but with more of himself than he usually allowed.
She was no stranger to seduction. In the last few weeks they had parried it back and forth like a tennis match. She loved the challenge of him. Hal would try to turn his iron will into resisting her, but Alex was an accomplished player with plenty of practice wielding her charms.
The year after her mother's death she had been shattered, and sought any small connection and comfort she could. Those comforts usually involved loud music, liquor and lads. Night after night she would leave the house the second she could, after her littlest brothers were in bed. She didn't yet know her eldest brother was going through the same, but much worse. Coming home to find him half dead was a serious wake-up, calling out her own self-destructive tendencies. She stopped messing around. She got her brother into rehab and then met a nice, solid lad. His friendship had saved her. His flair for fun had helped heal her heart. His flightiness broke it all over again.
With Hal, who had at first seemed like such an easy, gentle thing, she had been trying to recover. She would have had her holiday fling with this incredibly fit bloke from Barry, and then moved on. And now, she could never move on. The irony wasn't lost.
Hal's slender fingers were slipping past her camisole and Alex broke their kiss. She hated herself for even having to say it, "This isn't going to help you sleep."
"Oh I beg to differ," he lifted the thin black material past her head. At the exquisite meeting of his skin against hers, she was done for. He had her, fully.
When they came together it was to a simultaneous sigh, breathy and wanting. Unlike the afternoon, this was languishing and delicate. She was lost in the contours of his face and the strong ridges and lines of his chest. In every movement his body was a song to her. Every touch, every sigh tuned together in perfect pitch. At the end he kept his word, sinking into a softening sleep. Letting go with a slow slip into blessed nothing, Alex joined him willingly.
