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.
It had happened again.
And now, she was pretty sure she knew why the cottage they teleported to was no longer there. Hal had burned it down. Never, in all her life, had she experienced a nightmare so graphically horrid. So real. Alex sighed with the acceptance that the images, first last night's visit to the Botanical Gardens, and now the gory aftermath of an utterly decimating kill, couldn't be her own.
Like light through a hairpin crack, Hal's subconscious, either his dreams or his memory, had started to leak into her. And it was all her fault. Using his memories to rent-a-ghost had been her suggestion. And now, she didn't know what to do.
She was pressed close to him, feeling their connection everywhere they touched. If he found out she was having vampiric nightmares, regardless of the source, he would blame himself and undoubtedly attempt distance to cure her. Alex cringed at the thought. She knew him well enough to know that much, at least. She already knew he had centuries of a horrific past. The fact that he kept trying to fight it had allowed her to look beyond that history. It wasn't pleasant watching it play out like a horror film, but as long as they were just memories, she could bear it.
What terrified her was if they were dreams, the imaginings of his subconscious. As much as he fought against it during the day, she supposed it could be possible. And, she knew he had nightmares. They had been sleeping together for two months now. There had been plenty of times she felt him tear out of sleep and leave the bed to retreat to his routines in the middle of the night. But both last night, and now, that hadn't been the case. Next to her, Hal was quiet and still, having fallen right back to sleep with his arm draped over to hold her close.
If only there were a way to find out, to confirm her suspicions about the dreams before she asked him. Last night had been another step, she thought. He had let go just a little bit further, in almost an acceptance of himself and who he could be with her. Her body hummed at the thought. She was loathe to ruin it.
The windows of the attic room were low, eye level with the bed. She lay in his arms, but her gaze was far. She watched the darkness ebb from the world. The grey light crept across the land illuminating pockets of fog amidst the green. When she'd had sleepless nights alive, she would toss and turn with a restless energy. But now she could be truly still without even thinking of it. Alex watched the orange glow of sunrise crest over the horizon, shattering the last of darkness.
She could feel Hal starting to wake by sensing the subtle shift of his breath. She began circling little patterns over his arm and he reciprocated, his hand lightly caressing over her belly. Tucking his fingers under her ribs to hold her close, he sighed sleepily into her hair then warmly kissed the back of her neck. He seemed peaceful, content. Not plagued by nightmares.
Softly, almost the voice of someone else, Alex asked, "Why did you come here, before?"
"To Grimsay?" he queried, still coming awake. His pause was lengthy before he answered, his breath brushing her skin. "The island was more isolated than it is now. Even after hiring a boat to travel this far, the land could only be reached by fording a channel at low tide. Once you did, you'd have been greeted by the primarily non-human residents."
"Vampires?"
"Worse. Sheep. Filthy creatures," Hal muttered but his amusement edged through.
"You came here to be alone?"
"I came here to go dry," his answer turning to stone serious.
The images of her nightmare rose unbidden; wet blood sickled under fingernails and gore in the firelight. But instead of addressing the dreams, what she said surprised even her, "I felt it. The hunger. It was part of your memory." Hal had been tracing her shoulder with a casual fingertip but froze. "It isn't always like that… is it?"
"No. That's… Jesus," he cursed and pulled away from her, turning onto his back. Alex instantly regretted telling him, but in a way her suspicions were confirmed about how he'd react to the nightmares. She turned over on the mattress slowly, scooting to lay on her stomach with her head propped in her hands so she could see his face. He was staring into the beam overhead, silent and pensive before he finally spoke. "I regret you had to experience that. I did not know it would work that way. If I had… well. There were not many other memories we could have used. I knew the house would be gone, but was unsure if anyone had rebuilt it." He turned, facing her with a scrutinous gaze that Alex tried to match with neutrality. "The intensity fades, eventually." He softened and kissed her shoulder, changing the topic without really answering her. "I don't think they're up yet. I haven't heard anyone."
"They're not," Alex confirmed. She hadn't heard anything but birdsong.
"Another shower would be prudent. Hopefully without disturbing them," Hal mused while he started to sit up, then paused. "Would you mind granting a favour?"
"What's that?"
"Would you be so kind to retrieve my actual clothes? I fear we won't make it to Harris, otherwise."
Alex laughed and ruffled his hair as he made to leave the bed. "Sure thing. Though, I may replace your entire wardrobe later. Unfinished business and all."
Hal looked absolutely mortified.
"I'm jesting!" She punched his shoulder light-heartedly. "Off with ye!"
He stood, still miffed but took the blanket with him smugly, leaving Alex exposed, briefly. With a scowl, she disappeared only to reappear, dressed and booted, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"What was this about making it to Harris?" she teased. Hal rolled his eyes at her bemusedly. Wrapping the blanket around himself and taking the bundle of Adam's clothes, he descended the stairs.
Alex gathered up the rest of the linens and rent-a-ghosted with them to the laundry. As she set the sheets on the washer and retrieved Hal's now-dry attire, she heard the shower come on. The house was still quiet, so with a quirky smile, she rent-a-ghosted into the washroom. Hal was just stepping under the water in the tiled bath. After leaving his clothing on the counter, she teleported out of hers, and into the tub. He stood with the steaming spray hitting his chest and a smile tilted at the edges of his closed eyes. She tucked her arms under his to wrap around his chest, pressing her body to his. He leaned into her with a small sigh, but when her hands began to drift, he cleared his throat.
"Harris, Alex. Ferry to catch. Focus."
She laughed but knew he was right. After one lingering kiss just below his ear, she disappeared.
Breakfast was a short affair. Yvonne had to travel south for her shift at the Museum. In her cloak, hat and gloves she looked even more like Julie Andrews. Alex nearly expected her to burst into song. Instead, she bid farewell to them at the door, "One of our first school tours. Do come and visit again sometime, would you?"
Christa had an online studies course to log into, so only Adam remained to see them off to the ferry. Walking with them out to the car, he laughed at the sight of it, "Now there's a hot island getaway car. Where's your Mercedes?"
"Don't ask," Hal grumbled, stopping all inquiry with a glare.
Adam shrugged. "Now you know the main road splits -"
"Yes," Hal stopped the lad's directions. North was north.
Alex leaned against the car and chuckled, teasing, "Mr. Know-it-all knows where we're going. He used 'the Google.'"
Adam raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Welcome to the century my man." Hal shook his head with an eyeroll and retrieved the keys from his pocket. Adam shuffled awkwardly for a moment, then slapped the roof of the little car, finally mustering the bravado to ask Hal, "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment before you go? Private-like?" He gave a nod towards Alex who just raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest.
Hal nodded, and they proceeded to walk a ways up the road. Once out of earshot, Hal demanded, "What?"
"How are you doing it?" Adam asked.
"Doing what, exactly?"
"Doing Alex. She's sexy and all... but she's mist. Sno-babe at best."
Hal balked, "Adam, that's between Alex and -"
"No, I really need to know. You've got to tell me."
"I don't need to tell you anything."
"Is it an Old One thing? If so, that's fine. But if it's not, I want to know how to do it too."
"Won't your wife disapprove?"
"Not if I was doing it for her."
"I really don't think -" Hal started, but Adam intervened with a quick wave of his hand.
"Look. I love her. I really fucking do. I can't imagine going on with this shit without her. But, eventually, we're gonna have a problem. She ages. And I... well, you know," he shrugged.
"Yvonne may not linger as a ghost," Hal stated.
"I know, I know. But if she did. If there was some way for her to stay. Wouldn't you want to know?"
"Adam…" Hal began, uneasy with the topic. "Alex and I... it isn't something I can explain, or give you a recipe for. Not even the Old Ones knew why it happens. Sometimes, a spirit anchors onto a vampire who has drunk from them. Alex is tangible to me. All I can tell you is that I drank her blood after she became a ghost."
"So, if Yvonne dies and then refuses her door, I'd just have to drink from her dead body?"
"It would be a gamble and at a huge cost to you. We don't even know if succubi get doors," Hal pondered, then paused. "The cravings - you're immune while under her influence, correct?"
"Yeah, mostly," Adam shrugged, playing off the blessing.
"If you were to lose that influence, and drink again the outcome would be far worse than if you merely lost her influence. Right now, you're clean. The hunger is easier to maintain if you remain that way."
"But if there were a chance... I'd do it. It wouldn't matter if I failed."
Hal raised an eyebrow and stated seriously, "It would matter to those you killed."
"No, if it came to that, there would only be one death. I'm far too weak to stick around for the lute, mate."
A deflated chirp of a honk came from the Renault. Alex was leaning against it and mimed at them, pointing at an imaginary watch. Hal checked the time, then returned Adam's gaze. "We really must be going. You have the house number, and my email. Get in touch if you need."
"Likewise bro," Adam switched out of his melancholy instantly. "And really - come visit again. It's been grand. Just, you might want to get your own place. That ghost of yours is tangibly loud."
Steam rose off the little paper cup of espresso. Winter was on its way and Spike was wishing he had thought to wear his longer coat. As it were, he slipped a free hand into the pocket of his trousers after leaving a tip for the barista. She was pleasantly flirtatious and Spike could have probably gotten her number. However, he remained distant, as always. No sense bringing yet another bright young thing into his world. Rosanna inevitably always found a way to have them killed.
Spike sipped his coffee, the warmth flooding down briefly before dissipating. He had left his maker still deeply asleep in a blood doze in his bed. She had dropped by his flat early this morning, seeking information about Turner, and the bomb with demands for what he knew. Spike had placated her in his typical way - sixty years off and on and she still seemed to enjoy his charms - but he increasingly grew tired of playing the part.
Which was all he ever seemed to do these days.
Spike passed through the bustle at Euston Square and walked the few blocks to the post office. As he turned on Drummond Street the stale scent of yesterday's curry from the shop on the corner permeated his senses and roiled his stomach. Spike quickened his pace. It was just after eight and he knew his delivery would be waiting. Spike finished his coffee and tossed the cup into a waste bin, leaving both hands free to open the door and retrieve his key. Only one sleepy-eyed employee was surfing his computer from behind the counter; he paid no mind to Spike. The little key was kept separate from Spike's regular set, tucked safe in a hidden sleeve of his wallet. He used it to open the rented parcel box.
They never left a note or evidence of the transaction of any kind; inside was merely one small brown paper wrapped package. Spike knew it would contain an envelope, and a wax-sealed metal flask just as before. The payment for selling out his boss, and possibly himself, seemed dwarfed by the empty space.
Mornings like this were proving difficult. Allison left one last lingering kiss on Tom's arm, then tried to pull free of it. He only tightened his grip with a sleepy yawn, so she swatted at him, which made him chuckle.
"A'ight, a'ight," he teased as he let her go.
Freed, Allison turned, her soft, brown eyes meeting his with a warm smile. She planted a kiss on his nose. "I'll see you tonight, tak?"
"Yeah," Tom said, watching her go and pulling the covers tighter in round himself as she left to shower and prepare for class.
Normally, he'd spend his day off from the hotel catching up with his coursework. Today he was going to enjoy a lay in, then return to visit his new friends. But he found he couldn't return to sleep. As he listened to Allison moving about downstairs his brain was brimming with all the things he could teach to young Begley and his pack. But really, Tom knew he was beating round the bush of what he'd say when Hal got back.
Thinking of his friend, and the truth he now knew about him still made Tom's stomach tug with confusion. The old hatred for all things vampire was stirring, but Tom knew it wasn't that simple. Hal wasn't an average vampire, nor had he chosen to remain engaged in the wrongdoings of his past. Tom had come to regard Hal as family, and he still did. The rub was that Tom's idea of family didn't have room for secrets, however justified.
Tom knew he just needed to talk it through with his friend. Maybe if he could just come to understand a little better why Hal had kept that part of his past guarded. In the meantime, Tom figured he may as well make himself useful.
"Without love, where would you be now? Withou looo-oooov-oov-ove!"
Tangibly loud, Alex crooned along with the chorus on the tinny stereo, one half-laced boot on the dash and the other out the open window of the Renault. She didn't seem to know the rest of the words, so hummed along pleasantly, her fingers tapping the windowsill. The green countryside swept by, dotted with inlets and the flight of shorebirds. They had crossed the causeway from Grimsay to North Uist with nary another car. Reluctantly, Hal had to admit it was a pleasant drive, despite the suspected unreliability of their transport. The sun was breaking through the heavy morning marine layer and he checked his watch. They had ten minutes to spare. The white berth of the ferry could just be seen, docked in the slipway.
After sitting through a short queue for the ticket booth, Hal drove the little car onto the ship as instructed. Several of the other cars parked in orderly rows were obvious commuters, the occupants reading the news or already tipped back in their seats to nap. Hal ensured the Renault was in park and unfastened his safety belt as Alex disappeared. She reappeared shortly, peering down into the water from the loading platform just past the safety rope. Hal shook his head but leaned across the seat to roll up the window she had left down.
He locked his door, though probably needn't have bothered, and proceeded to the nearest metal stairwell. He wanted to get topside and upwind of the humans on board before the ship set sail. A ferry crossing was far too much of an opportunity for his kind. Captive prey along easy dumping grounds… Hal sighed, forced the old patterns of his thoughts away and climbed the stairs. Alex met him at the top, holding the metal storm door open.
"Where to Captain?" she jested.
"Topside bow," he answered bluntly and she raised an eyebrow, letting him pass. Hal walked ahead of her and up the second outer stairwell. Inside were rows of seats with passengers and families spread. Outside on the upper deck were people as well, but Hal hoped the morning was just chill enough that they would turn in before long.
The horn blast rumbled through his sternum when he reached the prow, the ships engines kicking on with a low vibration. Leaning against the white painted metal railing and looking back towards the dock, Hal dropped his hands into his pockets. The action wouldn't conserve much warmth, but brushing his fingers against the smooth ivory in his pocket was steadying. Two young children were chasing themselves in circles while their mother was taking pictures of the dock with her camera phone. Hal kept a wary eye on her until she put the camera away and went after the children, shouting after them not to run.
Alex leaned on the railing next to Hal, face to the wind and watching the slate-grey water churn and froth as the ship pushed ahead. She took a full and satisfying breath of the brisk and tangy sea air, enjoying the waves and the lumbering sense of movement as the boat pushed away. The dock and the island were quickly receding. Whipped by the wind, Hal's hair was tousled while he watched the few other passengers up top with them. Soon, the family departed for a lower deck and they were alone except for another couple locked in conversation a fair length away.
"You need another haircut," she smiled then dropped her arm over his shoulders.
"Leo always used to do it right before the full moon."
"Every month?"
"Every month."
"Nearly time then," Alex answered and Hal was silent. He had been distant, lost in his thoughts most of the morning. She had tried to remain good-natured, preserving the cheer and connection of the night before, but worry was creeping in. Their impending confrontation with this vampire from Hal's past could turn dangerous. Richard Turner certainly had proven to be, and he was someone Hal had kept contact with. They were heading to Harris neither expected nor announced, and Alex feared for his safety, and hers. In the span of just one day she had started keeping secrets from him, and she didn't like the nagging sense of doubt it was causing her.
The harbour was nothing but thin white lines of masts when Hal turned into the wind, squinting to look at the expanse of water ahead of them. Alex hefted herself up to perch precariously on the railing, her boots hooking over the lower rail and he shot her a look.
"What? Not like I'll die if I fall. Which I won't, mind you," she rebutted.
He rolled his eyes skywards, but let her be. Alex held onto the rail and leaned her weight into her hands. She didn't yet want to talk to him about the dreams, but she realized she should ask him about the man in the Door. He knew far more about these things than she did. Maybe he could relieve at least one of her worries.
"You're still shielding me, right?"
"Shielding?" Brought out of his thoughts, Hal cocked his head at her questionably.
"From the Doors, and the agents on the other side?"
"I believe so…" Hal paused, "as long as our bond remains. Why do you ask?"
"I saw one yesterday. At the hospital. And he totally saw me."
"Through a Door?"
"Yeah. A little boy passed on. The Morris dude pointed right at me after he went through."
"The who?"
"The man on the other side. When I died, I thought they were all evil Morris dancers."
"No wonder you refused your Door," Hal huffed amusedly at her comparison, but his expression quickly returned to serious. He furrowed his brow, then softly placed his hand on the bare skin of her chest, palm flattened just under her jacket. He closed his eyes, seeming to feel her heartbeat, then pulled away. "They can't come through. Nor can they find you again," he assured, then met her eyes. "But now they know of you, so will be looking."
"Well shite."
Hal merely shrugged however. "Just stay away from Doors."
"Maggie - the weird ghost I mentioned? I think she forced it closed on him."
"That works too," Hal smiled. "They're generally benign unless a ghost is weakened. We had a radio ban at the barber shop for months until they finally realised Pearl was having none of it." Hal returned to leaning on the railing, his shoulder brushing against her. "She ended up smashing Leo's Murphy against the cooktop before they gave up on her."
"They normally try to come after ghosts?"
"Yes, by using the Doors of others to coax you through."
Alex shivered, pulling her jacket in tighter around herself, "Any other Afterlife specials I'm missing out on?"
Hal's eyes cast out to the expansive sea. "It is more of what you have, than what you are missing. And that, I hope you never need to know."
