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.
*Reader note: Since this story was begun before series 5 aired, I wrote/designed Tom & Hal's new place of employment as "a big new resort with a seaview and everything!" In Walking with a Ghost, the kitchen, staff room and housekeeping office were all described as being downstairs.
It was more vivid than other dreams, the first time it happened. Alex recognized where she was immediately. She had been there on numerous school trips, and later as a teenager to party and snog at the abandoned railway station hidden below.
But she had never been to the Botanical Gardens for a party quite like this. A string quartet was playing a lively piece and the whole interior of the glass palace was lit with sparkling candelabras and glowing gas lamp lights. The crowd consisted of well-dressed men in stuffy crisp suits and women in gowns and silken gloves. It was oppressively warm she realized. She looked to the door for a way out and noticed an attractive blonde woman standing near it, dangling an empty champagne glass from a gloved hand. She was wearing a smooth satin dress the palest colour of soft churned yellow. It complemented her milky skin tone and clung to the curves of her hips. The woman caught her eye, smiling with warm recognition. Setting aside her glass with a wary glance at the crowd nearby, she raised her eyebrow suggestively before ducking outside. Without a thought as to why this woman seemed to know her, Alex followed. Heather, some strange inner part of her recognized.
Beyond the glass walls of the conservatory, the air was blessedly clear and cool. Alex took a long lungful and felt refreshed.
Heather was walking a slow sway around the edge of the curving structure, just ahead. The pale satin of her dress glowed brightly, a beacon in the dark. She had lifted up her long skirts so the hem didn't catch the dew, exposing strong calves over delicate ankles and fine shoes. They met on the far side of the arching glass, the voices from inside spilling out and the light striking a path across the finely manicured lawn behind them.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Gordon doesn't appreciate these things," the woman whispered wistfully, finally acknowledging her follower as she leaned against the iron edge of the glass structure.
Alex didn't say anything in response, just noted a northern Scots accent, and followed a compulsion to step closer.
Heather appeared a little tipsy, a few ringlets of her fair hair escaping the the dainty silver pins holding it up. "You're quiet tonight," she teased. "No poetics? Say something eloquent."
God, was this woman flirting with her? This dream sure was odd...
"That, m'lady is due to my present company having stolen my breath," Alex heard/felt herself answering. She stepped closer to Heather as she spoke, who smiled at the compliment. With a glance at the party inside, the elegant woman ducked into the shadows, dousing the brightness of her dress and extending her hand, beckoning. As soon as she stepped close, the blonde took Alex by the collar and kissed her with scandalous passion. Intuitively, nearly out of some habit, Alex's arms encircled the woman. Her dress was seductively smooth, the warmth of her slim waist flowing down to soft curves. The touch was inciting a pulsing desire deep within, radiating in a salacious shiver from her groin and clear up her neck.
Heather had groaned into the kiss and pulled their bodies closer, which only inflamed the intense want/need/lust/hunger that was washing over her. Alex broke the kiss, moved a hand to cup the soft, warm skin of the woman's jawbone.
WhatthefuckamIdoing? But Heather coaxed them all the way together, her slender pelvis grinding against her own. Alex couldn't resist kissing the throat arching before her, just over the beckoning pulse. She could hear/smell/feel it and GOD! The want for this woman had gone on long enough.
A building ache thrummed through her skull, its pressure rising against her teeth. Alex felt the force push through, felt her fangs drop. Her lover seemed to sense the shift, her instincts reacting to something amiss. Her heaving chest hitched; the prelude to a scream. As easy as anything, effortless as breath, she silenced the woman with a forceful hand that slid from her jaw, to smother her mouth. It was such sweet release when fangs pierced flesh.
Sweeter than wine, purer than water, arterial blood pumped free.
Alex tore awake with a pounding start. Her heart was stamping staccato in her throat. Her hand flew to her mouth, poking at her incisors with thumb and forefinger. Her teeth were normal, thank the stars. No fangs. She wasn't turning into a vampire. It was just a nightmare. Only a nightmare. A really randy and realistic nightmare. Jesus.
Her breath had calmed before she realized that next to her, Hal was still. She had always woken as he did. But Hal was still deeply asleep, lying on his back and lost in dreaming. The subtle flutter of his eyelids were a confirmation. A thin icicle of horror settled into the pit of her belly and took root. She watched him for a long time.
She wondered if she were mistaken. Maybe he wasn't dreaming the same thing at all? Maybe her dream was just a by-product of their experiment yesterday. She had "tasted" from him more than mere taste. She had sipped at his subconscious...
It was near morning, grey light creeping through the blinds. Alex sank into her thoughts. All that had happened, all that had been revealed. The channel that she had opened between them. She wanted to ask Hal what he had been dreaming to confirm her suspicions, but knew it was a touchy subject for him. The most he had ever spoken about his nightmares was just that they were terrible.
As dawn slowly filtered into the room, the dream seemed like such a small thing within the context of everything else going on. Maybe it really was only a nightmare. With her death, and everything that had come after, she had certainly been exposed to plenty to have nightmares over. Maybe it wouldn't happen again.
Hal turned in his sleep, startling her as his arm automatically folded over her waist. She felt his chest rise and fall as he came awake and wondered at the power of habit. Of instinct. He didn't need to breathe in sleep, yet the unconscious action was there. Since she wasn't coming awake with him, Alex enjoyed the way the blankets had slipped from his shoulder. Even at rest, the sculpted form of his muscles drew her eye down the contour of his bicep and further, to where the blankets rested at his waist. When she returned her gaze to his face, she was startled to find his hazel gaze fixed on her. "You're staring," he muttered. She couldn't help but smile, ruffling his unkempt hair. She loved him in the mornings. He was just a touch more flippant.
"Mornin'," she chimed and pulled him closer, till every bit of them was pressed together. "Tis a grand day for travel, don't ya think?" She said, maybe a little too brightly, for he scowled. She kissed his shoulder with exaggerated warmth. Despite the dream, staring at him all morn had made her want him again. That repeatable pull; her addiction. She smiled teasingly, stroked his side slowly pulling the sheet down to expose his hip. He merely sighed and tugged at the covers.
Despite all they faced that day, Hal managed a slow smile as he met her familiar mischievous grin. He still couldn't fathom that he continued to awaken with her by his side. After decades of sleeping alone, he kept thinking that one day her presence would grate on him. But thus far, it had not. She had a way of instantly pulling him out of himself, of shifting his brooding attention to other things. Which she was doing at that precise moment...
Alex writhed against him, lightly kissing his neck. "So you'll be calling in, right? We've got plenty of time..." she hinted.
"No, we do not," he disagreed, even against the part of him that dearly wanted to blow off everything and fuck her senseless. And drink her dry, of course. Which was precisely why they must not. He kissed her, but pinned her arm to keep her from further movement. "The car is at the hotel, remember?" He reasoned. "And I'd like to have a few things taken care of before departing."
"Mmmm," Alex returned his kiss poutily. "That's really too bad," and she started to tease him, demonstrating what he was missing out on with his audacity to go to work. It was a game they had played before. They had the house to themselves for only a brief time in the mornings. Tom's shift at the hotel started earlier than Hal's, and Allison often left with him. Hal was beginning to fall into susceptibility when there was a hard and decisive knock at the door. They both froze, wide-eyed and smiling at each other like guilty teenagers.
"Alex? Hal? I need to talk to you. Tom never came home." Pinched with worry, the normally verbose girl revealed the extent of her concern with the brevity of her statement.
Alex watched Hal's smile fall, his guilt crashing down around them. "We'll be right down," he answered promptly, already sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair as he pulled away from her.
No time for pressups, nor dominos. Not when Tom could be in trouble. Hal had thoroughly expected his young friend to have come home eventually last night. Tom was too smitten with Allison to have stayed out, despite his anger. Or so he had thought. Hal dressed quickly, even knowing that he needed to bathe. Alex teleported out of his bed into her attire, waiting until he was ready before going downstairs.
Allison was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, looking miserable. She had left a pair of mugs next to the teapot, even though this wasn't their usual time for breakfast. Her unruly curls were even more frizzed than usual and dark shadows hollowed under puffy eyes. She barely looked up when Hal and Alex pulled out chairs to join her at the table.
"He hasn't called or messaged?" Hal asked as he poured a mug of tea for Alex, knowing she enjoyed it despite being unable drink, then another for himself. Allison shook her head in response, her glasses slipping. She pushed them back up with weariness and looked up to meet his eyes.
"I don't imagine he's called you, has he?" The hope in her voice betrayed reason.
"No," Hal replied, letting the unspoken tension over their argument remain unsaid.
"Has he done something like this before?" Alex asked both of them.
Allison shook her head but looked to Hal. "I was hoping to ask you the same thing."
"Once before, because of Kirby. He was angry with me then too, actually" Hal reflected. Allison sat up a little straighter, her eagerness at the possibility that this was a recognizable pattern evident. Hal hated to disappoint her. "Tom returned that same evening however. Where did you search last night?"
Alex looked to Allison before answering, "First, the bars cuz if I was that hacked that's where'd I'd go… but no Tom. Then we swung down along the wharf where he likes to go running."
"What about work? He could have gone there to cool off." Hal offered, but Allison shook her head.
"We looked there too," her voice cracked a bit, as if she was trying to keep from crying. Then she voiced the question Hal suspected had kept her up half the night, "Richard Turner wouldn't want anything with him, would he?"
"I'm confident Richard went back to London, so I'm doubtful it could be that," Hal tried to reassure Allison. "Besides, Tom can hold his own against my kind. It is highly improbable that he has been abducted."
"But still, this isn't like him," Alex confirmed.
"No, it is not. Did you check the police station?"
Allison furrowed her brow, the idea obviously at odds with her picture of Tom, "No… but I can stop by on my way to class I guess. You really think he could have been arrested?"
"We don't know, so it is best to cover all probabilities, despite how far-fetched," Hal kept his voice as soothing as possible.
"And I hate to even suggest this, but I can pop over and check through the hospital," Alex offered.
Allison balked at the thought, but then nodded at the ghost reluctantly, "Thanks Alex." She finished her tea hastily and stood, pulling her shoulder bag off the back of her chair with a button-clicking clatter. Sudden urgency wouldn't change matters, but Allison appeared strengthened by having a plan, however weak. "I better head out then. Sorry to uh, wake you,"
Hal stood as well, "No, I'm glad you told us."
Allison paused in the doorway, "Will you be running Rook's errand today?" Referring to it as Rook's errand was easier than asking if they were beaming themselves all the way up to the Hebrides and back.
Hal shook his head, "Not if Tom is missing. I'll check with them though. Maybe they've seen him? Rook seems to usually know where we're all at," Hal stated it irritably, but also knew that it would reassure Allison.
"Yeah, I wondered about that," she answered, seemingly a little encouraged. "Keep me posted, will you?"
Hal nodded, "We will. And likewise."
Alex rent-a-ghosted her teacup, along with Allison's, into the sink, then folded her arms over her chest. "Shite," she stated grimly to the kitchen in general.
Awkwardly, Hal started towards the washing-up, but stopped himself. More than anything he recognized that he should return to his usual morning routine for steadiness. "I need to -"
"Go do your thing. I'll hit the hospital right now."
Hal looked away, but nodded. "Thanks," he sighed.
Alex could see his guilt weighing down his shoulders. She stood and reached for his hands, catching him before he could leave. "Hey, this isn't your fault. I'm sure Tom's okay. He has to be." Hal neither agreed nor disagreed. She held his gaze a long time. "You can't carry this," she said, wishing she sounded convincing. Eventually, she let him go.
"I'll come get you if... I need to." Alex couldn't bring herself to say it. Hal nodded without saying anything further, and left to return upstairs.
The A&E was blessedly quiet at this early hour of morning, but Alex checked through each partition anyways. None of the cordoned off spaces revealed a battered Tom. There was a cluster of hospital staff watching the news in the waiting room and eating pastries. God, what she wouldn't do for a shortbread! She thought about trying to taste from one of them, but then the images on the television caught her eye. Rook hadn't exaggerated about the coverage.
On the screen was the bomb site in London with it's skewed railroad tie viewed from a helicopter as it circled the decimated Shand Street archway. She could even make out Richard's office building with it's crisp white stonework. The footage flashed to a news anchor interviewing a police officer, "That's right. We have confirmed that what was believed to be an explosion triggered by a gas leak, was actually an intentional detonation." Alex wondered if they had arrested Richard yet. Apparently the anchorman wondered the very same thing. "Do you have a lead on any suspects?" The officer answered with the usual police-speak for we-haven't-the- faintest, "Interpol and Special Branch are collaborating to follow several leads at the moment. I would encourage viewers with any information to call -"
Alex continued her search, looking for signs to Intensive Care. The news couldn't tell her anything she didn't already know. This corridor was a bit more active; a pair of nurses wheeling IVs, a doctor in a lab coat holding a clipboard. Typical. Alex walked the corridor, peering into each room for her friend. She had run out of rooms to look into when somewhere, a beeping alarm went off and the doctor she had passed sprinted along with another nurse to a room across the hall. Curious, Alex wandered over to watch from the doorway.
The room was one she had quickly dismissed for the occupant was far too small to belong to her friend. Instead, it was a little boy not much older than her Will. Eyes closed, his face was slack with an unnatural pallor. The nurse immediately checked the child's pulse and airway, then began performing CPR. The doctor pulled a defibrillator from the wall and Alex felt her heart breaking. Almost like a sense of fate, she could feel that it was too late before the doctor could even begin. She watched the hazy form of the child's ghost appear at the foot of his bed. He was watching the flurry of work over his body with a detached sort of curiosity. Alex flattened herself in the doorway to allow another nurse wheeling a tray to pass through. The boy looked in her direction and cocked his head at her curiously, like he wanted to ask her something, but was forced to turn away. The hospital staff all kept working, trying to revive the boy even though his Door had appeared. It was a cheery yellow thing, with a doodled-on chalkboard adhered to it, the picture a rocketship shot through with stars. Alex wondered if it had been his bedroom door at home.
A light brighter than sunshine, brighter than anything, filled the room when the child turned the handle. Alex was fascinated. This was her first time witnessing a Door from this side, as a ghost. Even though it was almost too bright to look at, Alex watched as the door swung all the way open and the little boy stepped through, swallowed by the light.
But the opening didn't shut. Immediately, another figure, much taller, darkened the passage. A sharp silhouette with tattered clothes, carrying a tall stick with a coiled rope. Alex froze, her stomach somersaulting into her sternum.
Filling the threshold of the doorway, the figure looked directly at her. Slowly, using the hand not carrying his weapon, he tapped his chest, then, lifted his hand up to point at one milk-white eye. In morbid pageantry, he extended his arm through the doorway to point at her. And then he grinned.
A profound terror ripped through her like he had shot her with it. When someone tapped her shoulder, Alex shrieked and about jumped out of her skin. Finally unfrozen, she wheeled around defensively - they weren't gonna take her without a fight goddamnit! - and came face to face with a stocky elderly woman.
The Door slammed shut, its blinding light no longer illuminating the old woman's face. She smiled at Alex sympathetically, laugh lines cracking across her weathered skin as she patted her shoulder. "There now dear. Those nasty buggers can't come through. No need to be frightened."
Alex caught her breath. She looked the woman up and down and just like she could feel that it was that boy's time, she could feel that this person was a ghost. "You're like me," Alex stated then realized how silly that sounded.
"No, not at all dear!"
"Oh... you're … uh... not.. um..." Alex stuttered, wondering if she had gotten it wrong.
"Oh no, I've been dead a long time! But I'm nothing like you. You've got a spark in you." The woman smiled then indicated with a jerk of her head that they should step aside. The doctor with the clipboard was coming though, leaving the nurses inside to deal with the little boy's body.
"Maggie," the ghost offered, extending her hand. Alex shook it politely and the woman's grip tightened, her eyes narrowing. "Thought so. Who you feeding off of girlie? Obviously not that little boy."
Alex pulled free, a little more violently than necessary. She was clearly stronger than the other ghost who rubbed her hand, looking hurt.
"I'm not -" Alex started but the woman stomped close to her, threateningly.
"We don't take your kind here. Get out."
"But I'm just looking for my friend. I'm not here to -"
"GET OUT!"
Alex appeared in front of the "home" sign at Honolulu Heights. It was instinctual, she didn't even think it through, just rent-a-ghosted out of there. The nerve of that old biddy! What the bloody hell... The woman obviously thought she was someone or something else. But then Alex remembered the Door and that grin. I see you... Alex shivered.
"You didn't find him, did you?"
Alex jumped for the second time that morning. "Uh, no," she answered shakily.
Hal was already dressed for work and clean shaven, but still looked fatigued. Who you feeding off of, girlie? Alex shuddered and noticed that Hal was peering at her with concern, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I think. There's a weird ghost hanging round the Intensive," Alex stated. She elected not to mention the man she saw in the doorway. She didn't want to worry him.
"Some do that sometimes. Usually when they're fed up and looking for Doors. It doesn't work that way, but some still try."
Maggie didn't seem like she was looking for a Door. More like guarding it. But Alex didn't say anything. Instead, she just asked, "Are you walking?"
Alex was glad for the company and the walk, even though they didn't say much. Hal was obviously worried over Tom and lost in thought. She followed him into the lobby where Megan immediately smiled from the front desk, "Mornin' Hal!"
Hal gave a small nod and continued to head towards his office. But then he paused, "Say - you haven't seen Tom, have you?"
"McNair? Aye. He's downstairs, where else?"
"What?" Alex scoffed. Hal didn't bother hiding his surprise, nor did he respond to Megan with anything more as he passed for the stairs.
In the kitchen, Sophie was loading a pan of biscuits into the oven. Tom was nowhere to be seen. Hal shook his head. He really shouldn't have bothered asking the girl.
"Right - that be the apples then?" Tom's voice rang out from the cooler. By the time he emerged carrying a tub of diced and spiced pie filling, Hal had worked up a fairly impressive scowl.
"Where have you been?" Hal demanded. Sophie looked up, but Tom looked away.
"Thomas - Allison was worried sick o'er you!" Alex practically shouted. "Not to mention I just got accosted by a ghost at the hospital while I made sure you weren't there!"
Tom set down the apples and Sophie looked between the two friends awkwardly. Hal sighed, "Look, you have every right to be angry with me. That's fine. But at least call Allison."
"I did," Tom replied, averting his eyes from Hal's scowl. "Had to wait till I got here this mornin' on account of leaving m'phone in m'bag at home."
"So you've spoken to her?" Tom still wasn't meeting Hal's eyes, but he nodded. "Fine," Hal said abruptly, ending the conversation between them. Tom squared his jaw, then opened the apple tray with excessive force. With barely a glance to Alex, Hal stormed away to the housekeeping office.
"You alright Tom?" Alex asked, before remembering that Tom couldn't answer her in front of Sophie. "If you want to talk, just let me know." Tom had turned away, reaching for one of many doughy piles. He kneaded the dough into quick submission, then started scooping the apple filling into it. "Look he's... Hal didn't want to hurt you, alright?" Tom didn't give any indication of a reply.
Reluctantly, Alex left Tom to his work. Sophie looked quite uncomfortable at the tiff she had witnessed and Alex didn't want to risk making her even more so by provoking Tom enough to speak to an invisible person. With a quick rent-a-ghost tug, Alex appeared on the other side of the door to Hal's office. He had sunk into his chair and was clicking through something on the computer with complete disinterest.
She expected him to be broody and silent. She just wanted to make sure he was alright. But without looking up he asked, "Do you still want to do this?"
"What? Give Tom a swift talking to? " Alex understood Tom was angry, but it was still quite surprising that he had stayed out all night and made Allison worry.
"No. Grimsay," Hal sounded like he was forcing himself to even address it. "I have a few things to finish up this morning. Edwards will be less inclined to notice I've left early if everything is done. We're scheduled off tomorrow anyways."
Alex sighed. She sensed Rook's request wasn't the only thing driving Hal's motivation to disappear for a little while, but she didn't confront him on it. Instead, she answered him cheekily, "Sure, Game On. Maybe all this time I just needed to see a Hebridean sunset to make my life complete." Hal made a pained face at her so she softened. "I don't want to see this coming back to you or Tom. If we can help Rook's department catch these guys, then yeah."
Hal nodded his acceptance. "I will need to call him. To arrange the car, if he can."
"You've got a place?"
"I know of a spot," he was resigned, sounding almost sad with the memory. "Out on a inlet past a bluff, away from the main settlements. There is still a risk someone could see us, but I believe the island remains less populated on weekdays."
"And what about getting to Harris? Will Rook rent us a boat?"
"There's a ferry," he said, gesturing to the screen. "I did a Google."
