Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground. Beta assistance from Whimsyfox & TJ4ev enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal.
It has been a month since my last update, for which I extend my sincere apologies. Real life doesn't always work out the way we wish. Good thing there is fic. Reviews are love, and we're all going to need a little bit of it at the end of this chapter...
The road had been blockaded, but the blockade was un-manned. Blinking yellow hazard lights pulsed the darkening night away with a cautionary warning that went unheeded. Approaching the turn-about at the end of the road, Alex noticed that all the oversized car park spots normally reserved for tour coaches and the like, were empty. The whole area was uncannily deserted. Even the train had been waylaid, the station cordoned off. She wondered what the gathering werewolves would think. She wondered how many of them would still come here to turn, given the earlier bomb warning.
Allison and Tom walked hand in hand, both wearing loose, expendable clothing. Allison had chosen pyjama bottoms - black, with little green rainforest frogs that mocked the seriousness of the evening. They had taken the side streets without talking much, and once they crossed Maslin Park, they hushed entirely. Hal and Tom were both keenly aware of their surroundings; casting their senses and prepared for attack, or police intervention. But none came. They reached Station Approach road without incident. Hal gave a nod to Tom, then their group split ways. Allison and Tom were to meet up with Christa and Irving at the dodgems. Alex and Hal were to take another approach.
The hillock of grass east of the park, with house lights dotting beyond, seemed innocently empty as well, but Alex knew better. Ahead, the public convenience building was darkened, and the ice cream stand next to it was all boarded up. Everything was closed for the season. The silhouette of the pavillion stood out against the slate grey of the water beyond. Alex could smell the salt of the bay, but she couldn't hear it. The only interruption to the calm night came from the distant barking of some far-off dog. The rising moon, mostly obscured by clouds, did little to light the way. A strange, low fog hugged the ground and Alex wondered if it was somehow a trick of Rook's department.
Nearing the end of the park wall, Hal quickly scanned the surrounding area, then approached the small service gate. He turned to Alex with a ready tilt of his head and she stepped in close. Preparing to teleport them in, she reached up to cup the back of his neck, but he stopped her. Hal caught her hand and held it, then met her eyes.
"What?" she smiled.
A slight answering smile played at the corners of his eyes before he kissed her. The moment swept her up and set fire to their spark; she could have stayed right there on the street all night - but he pulled away.
"For luck," he answered, then squeezed her hand. Alex took a deep breath, savouring her sense of him, then rested her forehead against his.
Before he even blinked, she rent-a-ghosted them to the other side of the gate.
Not another one, he thought, before stepping out of the shadows. The people who normally visited the area were simple enough to spot - they were the only ones attempting to frequent the darkened and shut establishment. Boldly walking the pavement as opposed to the furtive and fleeting shadows that avoided him, the drunk was humming obliviously to himself. His startlement was further confused by the quick wave of Heddlu credentials. Mike Nave had to give his department credit; the badge was real.
"You've to turn back I'm afraid. This whole area is shut down."
"But -" the man slurred in protest.
"There's a pub open on High Street. I suggest you head that way."
Just as with the last patron, the drunk looked as if he was about to ask questions - What is this? What happened? - when a strange calm passed his face.
"Where'd you say again?"
As the man ambled off, Nave gave a nod to the empty air. "Thanks Maggie."
This was normally the part Allison had come to loathe. Not the change itself, with its unfathomable pain, but the waiting for it. She would watch the moon climb in the sky, heavy with the burden of knowing that every moment was building towards that first spasm; the first wave of losing control.
Her second turning, she had timed it. She paced her symptoms against tide tables and lunar charts to keep her mind occupied while she waited. Until twenty minutes before the moon reached it's highest peak in the sky, she felt utterly fine. More than fine, even - she had felt really, really good. Energized. But that was when it would start. Twenty minutes out and the first cramping wave would flash, sending chills through her body like a fever. It would pass quickly, yet her stomach would tighten into knots with clenching anticipation. In a few short minutes the sporadic cramping would return and she would be far from fine. She had put on bravado for Tom, sure as the rest of the werewolves had.
And yet, Allison was quickly finding that this was better than waiting. She wasn't watching the clock. She wasn't frozen in anticipation. She could feel the oncoming change, but she let it fuel her rather than frighten. She could harness the energy of it - that primal pulse of power rippling under the surface. She could see it in Irving and Christa as they stood nearby, poised shoulder to shoulder and casting their senses to the air. The wolf was timeless. It ran through each of them, yet each of them ran with it. She could feel by sound and scent where every one of her comrades were. Her Pack.
And Tom. Her love. He met her eyes and gave a perceptive smile. He could tell she had gotten it. She understood now why and how he and McNair could have done what they did for so long. Taking action was far better than the alternative. She wondered if they could find another way to channel their energy when there wasn't a fight. To run together, feral. Or to make love right until the change forced them apart. She wondered at the mystery of Eve and why there weren't more children of werewolves for that very reason.
She returned Tom's smile with an enthusiastic one of her own. If Rook didn't intervene and separate them as he claimed, Allison wondered if they'd find out. Her calmness over the thought surprised her. A year ago, the very idea of an unplanned pregnancy would have been unfathomable. There were her studies, scholarships, debate team duties and her Duke of Edinburgh Award; even dating had been out of the question. Until the wolf had changed absolutely everything, that is. Once she accepted what she had become, her text books may have been chew toys for all they mattered. Her chosen life was over. At least, that was what she thought before she met Tom.
With the exception of this one day of the month, they really could be human. As long as the mission tonight was successful and the supernatural world remained secret, she could still pursue her studies. With some strategic scheduling, her career was entirely plausible. The idea of a family wasn't that far removed. She already knew Tom would be a fantastic father. The way he had looked after Eve with such joy and delight was unwavering. If an accident were to happen between them, she didn't doubt that he would support her, with whatever it took. Both her practical, human side, as well as the stirring preferences of the wolf, were aligned in how she felt about Tom McNair. Maybe that was why something that had previously been a grave concern, was no longer. She already knew that she could spend the rest of her life with this remarkable person.
Just as she could sense her Pack, Allison knew Hal and Alex were standing close and alert beyond the shadows of the dodgems, in wait for the next wave of attack to come their way. In a quick moment of clarity, she could appreciate how far they all had come. This was where she belonged. In school, she had excelled, had been respected and admired by her teachers, but she was always a step apart from her peers. But not now. In her supernatural life, she had found challenge, belonging and love. In their own way, Hal and Alex were each quite remarkable as well. As a household, the four of them fit together. As a household, their oddities weren't so odd.
And they worked mighty fine together as a team, she might add. Another taunting pair of vampires, dressed in full, protective leather like the last few had been, slunk in from around the concessions counter. One immediately engaged Irving and Christa, but the other had fallen for the easy-target lure of Allison, standing apart. His youthful grin was wicked when he charged. However what he obviously thought would be an easy fight, was anything but. With a wave of unseen power, Alex, hidden, propelled the vampire away from Allison. Tom caught the leather-clad vampire by the shoulder, landing a hearty punch to his jaw. The vampire roared.
As they grappled, Tom maneuvered them towards the waiting shadows. With one well placed kick the vampire stumbled - and was caught by Hal. Pure shock bloomed across their prey's face in recognition that a fellow vampire was attacking him, just before Hal bashed the blunt end of a stake into his temple.
As the vampire dropped, Christa shouted through an ashy dust cloud, "Another one? How many do these people bloody need?"
Hal bent down to lift the fallen vampire's shoulders and Alex grabbed his feet. "As many as we can," he answered distractedly as they hoisted the body between them and retreated back into the shadows. They were gathering the unconscious vampires behind the Roman statues at the closed entry gate. An operative, hidden above on the roof of the neighboring restaurant, ensured that they remained unconscious.
Christa just shrugged, but Irving shook his head, still bewildered with it all. The young Irishman had wanted to retreat to find his sire and tell him the real plan, but Tom had convinced him not to. Word of the plan spreading now could jeopardize all of their safety, and there wasn't time to change anything. Tom had promised Irving that they would all be safe, and that he could fill Gwedore in on the truth come morning. Conal Gwedore would be disappointed, Tom was certain. He had wanted the confrontation, and the subsequent reveal to the world nearly as much as Milo.
The sounds of fighting spanned from across the park and the small break in their area was short-lived. A staccato of multiple running footsteps preceded the gang of vampires that turned the corner. Fangs bared, their eyes blackened at the sight of them all waiting in a ready stance. The toothy grins made it clear that they thought the werewolves were outnumbered, but would soon find the error. Tom leapt into the fight with an answering smirk and Christa followed suit. The girl was actually quite the natural - within moments she stood catching her breath over another ashen heap.
They were only capturing the ones they could get on their own, so for this round, Hal and Alex charged out of the shadows. Alex propelled one of the two vampires fighting Tom away to tumble and fall. Hal caught the shoulder of another then doubled him over with a swift knee to the groin.
As they grappled, the younger vampire clearly losing, Allison caught that Hal's expression had turned puzzled. He caught the man in a headlock, holding him while he sputtered and kicked.
"This isn't right," Hal shouted over the fray.
"Eh?" Alex blocked another that was nearly upon Irving, who was already battling a nasty looking fellow with a chain. The vampire snarled and took the offensive to come after her. With a knowing smile that she could send him sailing, Alex let him. Teasingly, she jumped up to the dodgem platform. "Oi! Come 'n' speil!"
"What's not right?" Tom shouted back behind another ashen cloud.
"These vampires," Hal said, pausing with a grimace to forcefully stake the man he was holding. "They're mercenaries. Hired."
"How can you tell?" Allison asked as Hal dropped the cracking vampire, who shattered apart when he hit the pavement. Hal looked up, but didn't get a chance to answer.
"Look out!" Hal shouted the warning. Allison suddenly had two at once! She whirled, her stake raised. One of the vampires was yanked backwards, sent to crash into the brightly colored wall of the Dodgems. With relief, Allison realized that Alex had given her cover. But then the ghost's own assailant had caught up to her and threw a punch - that landed, sending her staggering. Hal leapt up after them, and Allison was left to contend with the brutish fellow that remained on her own.
She whirled to face her opponent with what she hoped was an ominous expression, but he was closer than she thought. With practical smoothness, he lassoed a cable around her neck and drew her close. Allison's hand went to the binding that was already too tight for purchase.
In one snatched moment, all the details became alarmingly clear. The piercings dotting the sneer of the man's face as he twisted the cable into one hand. The missing button of his jacket has he pried the stake from her fingers. And the instant realisation that her windpipe was about to be crushed.
Until a sharp thwunk! made the pressure on her throat slacken, that is.
Allison, flabbergasted, watched the pupils of her strangler's eyes dilate. He looked down to his chest where the bloodied, wooden tip of a bolt shaft protruded. Winded and flustered, Allison sputtered as the cable dropped heavily to her shoulders. Her assailant cracked and crumbled, coming apart into cinders.
Shakily, she pulled the cable free and bent forward to retrieve her stake, then straightened to peer out into the darkened night. The wooden bolt had come from the far hill, beyond the park. One of the operatives must be hidden in the grasses. They were protecting them, as Mr. Rook had claimed they would. Allison raised her stake to the air in salute with a relieved grin, then turned back into the fight.
Tom had just ended the vampire he had been combatting in his attempt to reach Allison. He caught his breath with relief to see her unharmed, then glanced towards Alex & Hal. A cloud of dust floated in the air around them as they rested, foreheads touching. Tom quickly looked towards Irving who was alright as well. Christa was brushing silty powder off her sleeve.
Allison cleared her throat, rubbing her bruised neck as Tom reached out for her. As if to clear any lingering doubt to her well being, she returned to her previous question to Hal. "What did you mean, they're mercenaries?"
Hal pulled apart from Alex and answered simply, "It's too consistent. They're all young."
"That's crackers," Tom dismissed. "Loads of vamps look -"
"Newly made. Cannon fodder," Hal elaborated.
"And here I thought they were just dodgers," Allison shrugged, looking around at the white ash heaps littering the pavement.
"Jaysus," Irving exclaimed. "Who would turn people vampires, just to get dusted?"
"Who indeed," Hal answered, pensively unsettled.
Another vampire turned the corner, saw the piles of empty clothes around their little group and her eyes widened. She turned to retreat and Irving scoffed. "Leg-it if you know what's good fer ye!"
From across the park someone cried out, and sporadic crashes, footsteps and scuffles were heard. The sounds of fighting hadn't seemed to ebb at all over the last half hour. Both Irving and Christa cocked their heads, listening. Hal paused, head tilted as well. His attention wasn't into the afar battle, but behind them.
"What is it? More?" Alex asked, peering into the stillness between parked service vehicles, following Hal's gaze.
"Milo," Hal's answer was confident as he stepped down from the dodgems and extended his hand to Alex. "He's near. Let us see what he is up to, shall we?"
Tom raised his eyebrows in question, still clutching his stake, but Hal shook his head. "Stay here, for now."
Tom furrowed his brow, like he wanted to argue, but Hal was already headed off to the fleet of service lorries. Alex glanced back to Allison and Tom, then followed Hal. As they crept out from behind the convenience booth, his footsteps fell with a practised softness, which Alex tried to mimic. Most of the people present could hear her. They headed back towards the gate where they had entered.
Hal stopped, motionless in front of a lorry, listening - then Alex heard it too. Hal held his finger to his lips, and hugged his back to the frame of the lorry, edging closer. The whisper-low murmur of Milo's voice could just barely be made out, " - nearly out of time. I say we go over there."
Another voice, with an unplaceable familiarity, answered, "With all of them? No."
Hal edged closer, and Alex caught his shoulder, making him turn to look at her. She implored him silently to be careful. She knew he would be, but something in the hushed tones made her stomach drop. Hal met her eyes, holding their gaze for one small moment. He knew. With a bare nod, he acknowledged her care, then slipped free. He inched closer to the edge of the lorry, then swiftly stole a glance around the corner. A flash of surprise was evident on his face when he turned back. Alex raised an eyebrow, questioning, but Hal shook his head. After a contemplative pause, he strode boldly out of hiding.
Milo immediately pivoted, his body language defensive, but then his lip curled up at Hal's entrance. "Well well. Guess you were right after all," he said rather smugly to his sandy haired companion. They stood in front of the open panel door of an empty lorry. The lanky frame of the man wearing a trench coat struck her as familiar. Still, Alex couldn't believe it, until he turned.
Jonathan Castle gave Hal a knowing smile, "And so the pieces fall."
"Wait - you two know each other?" Alex couldn't help but ask.
"The ghost just asked if we know each other," Milo laughed, repeating to Castle. "Oh, honey."
"What is this? You're with the Department?" Hal asked Milo.
"Not... exactly," Milo delayed from answering with a smile.
"You knew," Hal stated, then tilted his head and Alex felt something… shift. The small benefit of doubt he had granted Milo, was gone. He hadn't moved, but suddenly Hal's stance was menacing. Deadly.
"Hal?" she uttered, unsure of what he had picked up on. Why had Milo come to warn Hal off if he already knew of the Department? If he was in with Castle, then surely he would have known the Department would stop the fight from going too far.
With one step Hal launched into the offensive to confront Milo. Castle staggered backwards, away from them both. His eyes widened with as much surprise as hers. Alex glanced at the young operative, wondering what the hell was going on, but was drawn instead into the immediacy of the fight.
Milo dodged Hal's swing, shifted his weight, then threw a punch, which Hal caught. Holding the larger man's fist, he twisted until Milo was forced to twist away. He spun, sending a kick as he did, catching Hal's ankle. But Hal only used the momentum to carry his weight forward.
They landed with a huff against the lorry and with a fast smack, Hal struck a punch to Milo's face. Whiplashed, the larger man's head rocked back and hit the metal sidewall with a clang. Hal pinned Milo's arm as the werewolf blinked, testing his jaw. Alex watched, bewildered, but waited for an unobstructed angle to help, if necessary.
Milo threw up a knee, which Hal dodged. But it was merely a feint to capture the arm Hal raised for balance. The fight of strength between them was brief. Milo was a werewolf nearing the change, and Alex could see that he was proving stronger than Hal. Aiming her focus, she leant her strength, sending force through Hal's arm, and it worked. Milo's arm hit the metal sidewall with a crack and an outcry.
In the process of helping Hal, she had lost her attention on Castle. The operative had stepped close, reaching forward in what Alex thought was a motion to help Hal, except that Milo's grimace gave way to a quick flash of relief. Castle had pulled a short stake from his pocket as he seized Hal's shoulder. He pressed the point of sharpened wood into Hal's back without any semblance of friendliness.
"Let him go," Castle demanded. Shocked at the sight of the stake, Alex wavered in her force, but Hal still kept Milo pinned. The werewolf was catching his breath and staring down Hal intently as Castle threatened. The man's posture with the stake was smug, pushing only lightly against the leather of Hal's jacket.
"All we had to do was pique that curiosity," Milo jeered. "You played right into it."
Castle tutted disapprovingly, then leaned in to whisper. "You're to leave with me. Right now."
"Why would I do that?" Hal answered calmly.
"Because, if you don't come with me quietly, you'll end up dead. And that would be most unfortunate. Some here have another mission than just playing with werewolves."
Alex dropped her focus from Milo, and sent all of her power into propelling Castle's stake away. But… nothing happened. Either Jonathan Castle had anticipated her onslaught, or he was somehow able to block her. His hand on the stake was unshakable.
"Well," Hal answered, keeping his focus intently on Milo as he seemed to deliberate. "It's too bad your angle is wrong."
"Oi!" Tom announced himself just as Hal, using his grip on Milo as leverage, bashed his head backwards into Castle's face. Castle staggered, which was all the opening Hal needed to clear the stake, let go of Milo, and turn. Tom leapt into the combat with enthusiasm.
"This isn't your fight slayer," Milo spat, dodging Tom.
"That's me mate you and he are threatenin'," Tom snarled, then slammed into Milo. With thundering precision, the two men pit against each other. But Alex's attention was on the lethal stillness of Hal.
Stake raised, Castle used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his nose. The motion did little good. There was blood in his teeth when grinned.
Hal looked away, fully turning his head and closing his eyes. Castle huffed a nasally laugh, "Oh, now there's a bother," glancing to the blood on his hand. "The only humans anywhere near are ones you're supposed to be helping," he chuckled, but Hal didn't move. In an instant, Alex was beside him. She took his hand in hers and tried to lend him strength. He could fight this. He already had proven that he could.
Hal felt Alex's telekinesis course through, rooting him to the spot. Minuscule traces of human blood was on the air, but the contact amplified her heartbeat against Castle's. Her blood, so near, so desired and illusioned, against the reality of another's. Blood. Eyes closed, Hal channelled his focus to the safe familiarity of Alex. The warmth of her hand. Blood. The steadiness of her pulse. Blood. Her scent. Blood. It happened so quickly. Always so quickly. The salivating pressure against his fangs mounted.
Castle tried another approach, with a glance to where Tom & Milo grappled. "Safe passage is right there. The choice is yours." The youth leveled Hal with a curious look, then, gloating, he added, "Do you see what that choice is yet?"
Alex gave a worried glance between the both of them, as Hal tightened his grip on her hand. He swallowed, his eyes darkening as he stared into the cavernous cargo hold Castle had indicated. Whose side was Castle on, exactly? But then, Castle took a step forward - towards the struggling vampire. "Let me guess," he taunted. "In another time, I'd already be dead." Hal's eyes flashed back to Castle's face, and the blood trickling down. "Lucky me."
Castle dropped low to charge, pummeling into Hal with his shoulder and Alex cried out. Hal's hand slipped from her fingers as he fell backwards, at first seemingly in an attempt to refuse the fight. But when they hit the pavement, she watched with a sinking feeling as his instinct took over. In a feral flash of white, Hal's fangs dropped.
Hal rolled clear, then came to his feet as Castle started to push himself up, still clutching his stake. But Hal didn't let him rise. He kicked Castle in the ribs, dropping him back to the ground with a painful sounding oof. Hal dropped to his haunches, but Castle raised the stake over his head in defense.
"You can't," he wheezed, then spit blood. "I'll be your undoing."
Hal's only answer was to take the lapels of the operative's coat in fists, and haul him upright. He shoved Castle backwards to slam hard into the metal wall of a cargo hold.
"Ugh!" Castle managed, the air knocked out of him, before Hal pinned him to the wall.
"You did this." Hal stated flatly. "Why?"
The way he said it chilled Alex. A dream of fire, hot and close, and Carl, tortured… Dazed, Castle didn't answer. Hal caught him by both wrists, then then bashed him back into the metal with a thud. The violence of it made Alex jump.
"Why?" Hal asked again, slowly increasing the force against Castle's hands. The stake clattered to the pavement with a wooden clunk. Jon Castle's breath quickened, but he did not answer. His stance was as if he didn't have to answer. Almost as if he were awaiting an intervention.
Tom had spun away from Milo, eyes widening at Hal's handling of the young operative. "Hal," he cautioned, and Milo took that moment to back away. When Tom whipped his attention to his opponent, the big man had bolted into a run back towards the open lorry. Castle's eyes followed Milo with a hint of expectancy.
Alex didn't think, she just acted. Her power may have been blocked from Castle somehow, but Milo tripped, sprawling forward. Tom lunged after him just as Castle cried out in pain, and Alex lashed her attention back to Hal.
"Who are you working for if not Rook?" Hal demanded, predatory, threatening with fangs exposed as the man before him quivered from the shock of a snapped wrist. But then, shakily, Castle laughed.
"Rook can go to Hell. I'm working for me." Then, he spit. A spatter of blood hit Hal in the face. Immediately, his eyes seethed a vampiric black.
Oh, shite, Alex thought as she rent-a-ghosted to stand between Hal and Castle. Hal's body language had changed. She could see the struggle, but she could also see that he was losing. Hal pushed Castle's arms down and tilted his head forward, fangs flashing, but she intervened and caught him by the shoulder. Hal tensed in the pause.
One breath. Two.
Whether Hal had stopped himself or not, Castle's focus had shifted. He was no longer looking at the threatening vampire about to tear into him, but above. Alex followed the line of his eyes to a silhouette, poised in aim on the far roof. A pale glint of blonde, the sight of a crossbow, and a man who could only see part of the struggle. Alex deduced what it looked like in one, horrendous instant - she opened her mouth to scream - to shout a warning - to stop it -
But it was too late.
In one sailing thwack! of irreversible judgement, it was over.
The metal sidewall was the only thing keeping Jonathan Castle's battered form upright. Hal had let him go. Like an obscene cartoon, something that shouldn't be there, was there. Hal looked down to his chest in disbelief to where a wooden shaft was protruding.
Jonathan had a reconciled expression, almost saddened. "I couldn't let them have you," he whispered.
The scream ripped out of her from somewhere deep.
AURIBUS TENEO LUPUM, "holding a wolf by the ears," is a line taken from Phormio (c.161BC), a work by the Roman playwright Terence. Once a popular proverb in Ancient Rome, like "holding a tiger by the tail," it is used to describe an unsustainable situation. In particular, one in which both doing nothing and doing something to resolve it are equally risky.
*The transformation timing that Allison mentions is directly taken from observations in season 3, episode 1.
*Come 'n' speil is Scottish for come and play. Or so I've been told.
Soundtrack inspiration of Alt-J, Tessellate & Rage Against the Machine, Testify.
