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.

Two rewrites pre BETA, then two more after… This one is 'packed'. Musical nod to the entire album "By the Throat" by Ben Frost, which was in heavy rotation for the early drafts. (Orchestral dark ambient with howling - just what everyone wants for Christmas!) Reviews are how I know you care. Little extra thanks for all the care on the last chapter!


Tom's expression was nothing but dumbfounded when Hal yielded, falling slack into his arms. In contrast to the violence of a moment ago, Tom lowered Hal's form to the ground with an overt gentleness. He eyed his friend with dubious caution however, making sure he was really unconscious before standing. Then his concerned gaze landed on Alex with alarm.

"You're hurt! You're -" Tom halted in his reach forward, his eyes going wide. At Tom's disbelieving expression, Alex brought a hand to her neck. The pain was a dissipating mirage, dream-like, but still - she expected to feel a raw wound. Instead, she felt a strange nothing. Her skin was unbroken. The blood she had felt trickling down her collar, was gone. As if it hadn't just happened seconds ago at all. As if Hal hadn't just...

Shakily, she met Tom's worried eyes and nodded, "Yeah. Okay. I'm okay," then looked down to Hal. "Oh holy hell." Something was wrong. Something in her gut, in her very being, was terribly, horribly wrong. She felt numb, and in an odd way, displaced. And she couldn't stop staring at Hal. She sank to her knees and reached out to touch him, but faltered and merely straightened his jacket. It was a pathetic gesture of setting things right. The smear of crimson that contrasted against the pale inside of his wrist stopped her short. The fine-mist spray and spatter across his jaw. The jewel-vivid and terrible colour of it. And underneath it all was the fear of acknowledging what she already felt was true.

"You got to get him out of here," Tom snapped her awareness back. "You got to get him safe Alex. We ain't got time."

"Shite," she took another shaky breath. "The wolves."

"And me. I can smell him, like. Really smell him." Tom ran his hand through his short hair and over his scars, distraught.

"I…" Alex tried, and failed to form words for what had just happened. She knew - just knew - that she couldn't teleport Hal. "I can't," she admitted.

"You can, you have-ta," Tom insisted.

"No," she shook her head. "I can't."

Tom shook his head, about to argue further, but then his eyes suddenly narrowed. Alex looked up, immediately seeing what had caught his attention. The shadowed figure of a woman, nearly camouflaged in black leather, stood very still, just out of the shadows. Her dark hair was tucked under a wrap of black silk, leaving only her perfectly pale skin visible in the half light. With a start, Alex knew her. Rosanna.

Even though she made no motion to attack them, Alex's anger flared. Just the sight of Hal's picture perfect ex was a enough to strike a rage, but could she actually be behind all this?

Something in the way she held herself said that she was of a much higher status than the others who had flocked here to fight tonight. She was openly staring at Hal in a state of disbelief - either because he was incapacitated, or that he was here at all, Alex couldn't quite tell. Behind her was the barest of movement, and Alex saw another shadowed figure emerge.

"Tom…" Alex tensed protectively, even knowing it was futile as Rosanna shifted her calculating gaze. Alex knew that there was little that she could do. She couldn't move them, nor did she have the strength to fight. Tom swallowed and tightened his grip on his stake as three more vampires revealed themselves. His eyes flicked from side to side and Alex had a feeling that he sensed that there were even more, out of sight.

"He still has you hooked I see," Rosanna said haughtily, then raised her eyes to regard Tom with a wry smile.

"Down boy," she taunted and Tom only coiled tighter. But his tensed expression changed to a slight befuddlement as Rosanna turned her palms outward, openly showing that she meant no harm. She took a slight step forward and gave a curious tilt of her head. "Up until a few weeks ago, everyone thought Henry here was truly proper dead. The Council put a price out and ooh, it's a pretty one," Rosanna cooed and Alex placed her hand defensively on Hal. "I couldn't believe my luck when he turned up, announcing right where he'd be," she scoffed and Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously. Rosanna just raised a fine eyebrow. "Oh, come now. You didn't really think all this hurly-burly was for werewolf benefit, did you? He's ours," Rosanna sneered and without pause for a response, she closed her hand into a fist.

The waiting vampires all stepped forward. Alex was still seething from the betrayal of this woman - Hal had trusted her! But Tom was all business. He instantly launched into the attack. Alex was frozen, questioning the vampire's motives as they were surrounded, but Tom moved in a blur of speed. Shadowy forms were coming from all sides. They were going to gang up on them…

"Tom - No!" Alex screamed. Internally she cursed the loss of her powers, wishing she could do something, anything -

The crunching snap of bone was so swift that it took the thud of Rosanna's body falling to the pavement for Alex to even register what Tom had done. A soft tendril of hair had escaped her scarf, her eyes suddenly vacant, and Alex wondered if eventually the woman would heal and recover. She kind of hoped that she wouldn't. Without missing a beat, Tom staked the next vampire in one fluid movement. Alex, open mouthed, could only focus on the paralyzed vampire crumpled across from her as Tom whirled into fighting.

If these vampires had been sent to collect Hal, they had seriously underestimated how fiercely Tom would defend him. As Tom fought, Alex could clearly see just how much he had held back in trying to restrain his friend without hurting him. If Tom had wanted Hal dead, Hal would probably be dead. All Alex could do was to lean over Hal protectively while Tom fought and won, single-handedly, against eight vampires. And he did it just as anything else that needed doing. Straight-faced. Fast. Efficient. In less than a minute, it was over.

The few who had their necks snapped rather than staked lay in ungraceful sprawls. Tom lunged over their prone bodies to return to Alex and Hal. He dropped to his haunches, catching his breath as he held her gaze with a deep seriousness. "We really have-ta get him outta here."

All around them, the park had gone quiet as the sounds of fighting faded down. Like birds before an earthquake, the other vampires were gone - killed or fled - just like that. Then, the first scream rippled across the park. Then another.

The full moon was nearly upon them.


They didn't quite make it back to the dodgems. Carrying Christa propped between them as she limped on one foot, Allison and Irving stopped halfway. One of their comrades, woefully outnumbered against the group of vampires that gave chase, came sprinting around the haunted house.

"Oh thank gods!" the haggard werewolf gasped as soon as his frantic eyes laid sight on them. Irving steered Christa to the nearby bench so they could all draw stakes.

The subsequent fight was a blur. Four of them, one with a twisted ankle and literally benched, against a dozen vampires. No matter how close they were to the change, strength and speed could only take the inexperienced so far. At one point, Allison lost her spectacles. At one point, she desperately wished she hadn't heeded Tom and had stayed with him. At one point, she thought they were done for.

The awareness of relief came ahead of the scope of her human senses when they were joined by another group of their Pack. Snarling speed and vicious judgement ended one vampire caught surprised, then two more. No longer outnumbered, the rest of the fight was swift. The few vampires that remained started to back away, uncertainly glancing at each other. One of them shook his head, pointing upwards towards the peak of the full moon and they all followed his lead in retreating. Then Christa screamed. A blood-curdling, painful scream, and instantly, Allison felt it too.

Heavy as a tidal wave, the wolf crashed into them all.

Allison cried out involuntarily and doubled over. Some small part of her was aware that the vampires had turned and fled, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered now but the change taking over her. The pain that consumed her whole, chewed her up and would soon spit her out, beyond the edge of self.

The pavement was a welcome friend, cool beneath the heat of her palms. The pavement caught all of them. Even Christa had dropped off the bench to take an all-fours embrace. Allison clenched her teeth and tried to focus. Her mind had snagged, landing on one very important thing. Something critical. If only she could focus on what that was...

A familiar face, contorted in pain. A face she couldn't quite place.

Focus, Larson.

Through the speechless agony of shifting bone, despite the loss of her spectacles, Allison honed her blurred vision beyond the contorted figures of the Pack. Just past them all, a man stood still. A man with an irritatingly familiar face that stared back at her.

Vinicius… Vinnie? Allison blinked then coughed, fighting her own body to keep her attention lucid. The blurred form blurred more. An overlay of another face, a stranger. She had only seen the Brazilian anthropologist's photo once - when she had read his obituary. Perhaps she was mistaken. Whoever it was, the man's body suddenly went limp, collapsing like a cut marionette. The stranger dropped, crumpling to the pavement without a sound.

Then, he gracefully pushed himself up and stood. Or rather, someone stood.

A hazy form had overlain the fallen man, solidifying as it separated. The figure parted from him, and simply walked away. It was impossible. It didn't make any sense.

Allison blinked, trying to keep the tethers of her mind from fragmenting. But it was no use. The pain swept her up as the wolf was clawing her way out, to freedom. To run. To the excitement of the Pack and the hunt. And Allison had no choice but to surrender.


Tom clenched his teeth. "Now Alex!"

Alex nodded numbly as she hugged Hal's torso to hers. His frame was limp, his muscles looser than she had ever seen. Large-game tranquilisers, she remembered Rook saying, then wondered how long such a thing would work on a raving vampire. Closing her eyes, she locked her concentration down and tried to teleport them -Home- …

-the Archive- ...

-the woods...?

-the next bloody block!?

- only, nothing. Zip. Nada. It didn't work. Nothing happened. Whatever power she had was stalled, just like she'd thought. She'd used it all up. Or else, she really had broken… Alex still couldn't form the thought.

She whipped her attention back to Tom. He had dropped his head into his hands. "Tom…" she tried, only something crunched and Tom doubled over with a sharp shout.

Panting, he looked up to meet Alex's wide eyes. Beads of sweat were breaking across his brow. "You can't," he stated bluntly, his words clipped short by pain. She nodded, even though she knew he wanted a different answer.

Tom's jaw clenched and his eyes winced shut. When he opened them again it was to look in the direction Allison had gone. An expression of worry flashed across his features, but he shook his head. Blowing air deliberately out of his mouth in a calming way, he reminded Alex of an expectant mother. But then he squatted down and lifted Hal away from her with determination. "Feet," he said.

She quickly heeded his demand. Another chorus of guttural screams rippled across the park as together they hoisted Hal and quickly backed away with him. Alex scrutinised Tom's face nervously as they moved. He was in obvious pain, but just breathed through it, heavily, jaw clenched. They reached the back service gate and Tom set Hal down, pausing to grasp his own knees. His breath was coming short and ragged.

"Tom… the gate. We rent-a-ghosted in," Alex spoke quickly as panic finally hit. They were trapped! She hadn't been a ghost all that long, and yet she had already come to heavily rely on her abilities. It was difficult to think through how else they would possibly get out.

Squaring his jaw and straightening his spine with a resolute grimace, Tom pivoted to the gate. It was locked with a chain and bolt. He took the loose loop of chain in two hands, planted his feet and took a deep breath. Then, with a controlled exhale, he leaned backwards, pulling against the gate. For a small moment, nothing happened. Tom sank into his weight, straining. He bellowed an angry scream, muscles and veins standing out under his short sleeves. One link slowly bent, then, it snapped. With a gasp, Tom staggered and caught his balance, and let the broken chain drop. Panting again, he leaned forward against the fencing.

"Tom?" Alex almost reached out to him, but stopped when he turned to face her. Tom's eyes had changed. The gaze that met hers was a fierce, feral yellow.

He blinked and looked quickly away, catching her surprised fright. He steadied himself, then wrenched the gate open with a grunt. Alex swiftly returned to take Hal's shoulders, and she lifted him up as much as she could to drag his body through the narrow opening. He'd be absolutely appalled at the state of his clothes, she thought with irony as she struggled, Hal's heels dragging. As soon as they were clear, Tom slammed the gate shut. He wrapped the broken end of chain back through, looping it on itself, then looked pointedly to the darkened building across the circle. The boarded up and rickety ice cream stand would be shelter enough against the rain, but certainly not much else. There was no way a bit of plywood and paint would keep out a wolf!

"No way that -" Alex started, but Tom shook his head. He opened his mouth to reveal canines grown longer than Hal's

"Ow-ee-sin," he growled, unable to fully speak around his changing teeth. Alex watched, terrified stiff as Tom's hand gripping the gate warped and grew claws. He looked as if he wished to say something else, but whatever words he had were lost to a scream. He abruptly let go of the bars to drop to all fours.

The screams rippling across the park had grown silent, just as Tom's began. He had kept his wolf at bay as long as he humanly could. But now, there was no stopping the change taking over. Alex's breath caught in horror as she watched bile and blood sputter from Tom's mouth. Yet still, his pained eyes darted to hers, pleading. Unrooted, she nodded then hefted Hal up once more. As she backed away, she heard the sickening sound of Tom's bones breaking. His form heaved, and he ripped through his clothes with claws grown long. His yellowed eyes met hers once more - one last anguished human look, before he was gone completely.

She dragged Hal across the street, trying not to listen to the terrible sounds coming from their friend as he transformed. She had heard it happen before, through the locked and sturdy cellar door, but still wasn't prepared to witness the physical inhuman cruelty of it. All this time, Tom and Allison had both downplayed it well. Because it didn't seem possible for someone to go through that, and still live. Alex held an unnecessary breath as Tom's wrenching form stilled, and fur and fang grew. The wolf's elongated ears twitched and pricked their way. It was too late. They were too late. The increasing rain would help, but even a deluge wouldn't wash their trail away swiftly enough.

Shadowed movement halfway down the wall caught her eye. Then she spotted another silhouette further afield. Every twenty yards, just as Hal had prescribed. An operative scaled the wall, sprinkled their bit of blood, and dropped back down to return to the shadows. They obviously weren't bothering to lay the ruse at the end where the real deal lay in wait. It was happening. Their trap was set.

Only now, there were two locations the wolves would amass to.

Alex hoped the quantity of ambushed and captured vampires at the main gate would be more enticing than the fresh blood of but one. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had been helping Hal to carry them in the same way she had just carried him. The kiss he had given her for luck was a lifetime removed from the horror of what had just happened. And the terror at the root of her soul of what was going to happen next. She didn't need heightened senses like Tom's to know. Remnants of blood smeared a trail across the wet pavement, leading directly to the newly transformed werewolf. He still hadn't recovered, head hung low. Across the park one baleful howl was quickly joined by countless others. A great caterwaul of a chorus that echoed out beyond the walls, and caught the ears of the monster inside the gate. The sound gave her chills, somewhere primal.

But the howls didn't hold the beast's attention for long. A low vibration of growl turned to a snarl as the wolf's nostrils flared. He had caught the scent of vampire blood. Hal's blood. The creature paced the gate, then nudged it with his nose. Tom's looped knot of the chain surely wouldn't hold the wolf for long. Gods, what had Hal done at the club to distract the wolf? He had used himself as bait. Jaysus. Alex closed her eyes, as if somehow she could shut out the atrocity of what Tom's wolf wanted. But then, the creature whimpered.

Alex opened her eyes to see the wolf backing away from the gate, ears flattened. He tried again from the side and gave a short yowl of frustration.

The silver! She remembered with a start.

It was working.

Alex's hope flared, and in her relief, she recognised a sound. An approaching whomph-whomph-whomph that had been there all along, increasing in volume. It was nearly upon them. She looked up to see a stark silhouette against the clouds of a descending helicopter. It slowed to hover over their end of the park. With the sudden pop of flash, a dart pinged off the metal of the gate and skidded away. The helicopter was there for extra insurance; no one would be leaving the park. Tom's wolf snarled and pushed against the bars which nearly gave. One more attempt and he'd be through. The silver didn't seem to be doing much good at repelling him. Alex realised that she must have broken the line when she dragged Hal through it, but she didn't have to worry for long.

A flash flared again and Tom roared as he was hit. He howled and flung his body against the gate once, twice, then staggered, like he had suddenly gone tipsy. He dropped limply, curled in on his side, claws flexed. Her relief was short lived though because it wasn't yet over. Other wolves were approaching, drawn like moths to flame for the lure of fresh vampire blood. Alex could only watch the monsters lope closer, all claw, fang and identical ferocity. There wasn't a way for her know which creature was a friend. The pair cautiously approaching could be Christa and Irving. Or one of them could be Allison. It could be anyone. Rationally, Alex knew it was whichever werewolves were close enough to catch Hal's scent. Reason dictated that these wolves were their friends.

One by one they each fell as shots were fired. As the werewolves yowled and stumbled, the helicopter pulled up and turned, leaving the fallen wolves where they lay. The frenzied air stilled as it departed, taking the deafening sound with it, and Alex was left alone with sleeping monsters.


Nave watched the helicopter complete it's scan of securing the perimeter while he waited for the Department's locksmith to finish. A van came around the bend, followed by another. Then, two more, all bearing the appropriate auto-wrap of Watson's Maintenance and Repair. He pulled the assembly list printout from his pocket as the first van came to a stop. Nave approached the driver's window.

"Castle is in the fourth quadrant. At least, we hope that's where he still is. Pick up will be at the East roundabout"

The driver nodded, then proceeded without hesitation through the opened service gate. It was a given in their line of work that operatives on the ground could end up in supernatural crossfire, but Castle had been seasoned. Experienced. Rook had sent out a terse message that said it had been Hal Yorke who had attacked Jonathan Castle. It didn't make any sense.

Nave relayed Rook's instructions to each driver as they came through. All that was left to do now was the protocol of taking blood samples to determine attendance. And to relocate two dozen sleeping werewolves, of course. It was going to be a very long night.

It had already been a long day of preparations, and he didn't know how Rook managed. They had to use every van available and mandatory overtime for all staff, while Mr. Rook himself had overseen everything. Right now, Rook was stationed along with the rest of their best marksmen at the mouth of the main gate. Just as Jonathan Castle had been raised by the Department, Nave had been surprised to learn that so had Dominic Rook. Only instead of adopted in like Castle, Mr. Rook had actually been born to all of this. His father had been the Departmental head until his death, seven years ago. Suicide, some rumoured. A situation that the Senior Mr. Rook should have been experienced and seasoned enough to avoid. Again, Nave wondered about Castle. The lad had seemed rather strung out recently.

Nave's phone vibrated yet another text alert in his pocket. His job momentarily stalled, he retrieved it. Maggie was still relaying what had happened in short bursts of text to the team.

This text now however, was only to him.

Classified: Yorke caught Castle with Milo before Rook intervened. All to be questioned. Yorke injured, Millar directed to transport to Archive, but no sign. Locate ASAP.

Nave narrowed his eyes and glanced out across the park. He knew that there was something about the whole situation that didn't sit right. An internal investigation and an off-the-wagon vampire let loose and on a bender? Just what they needed in all this. Nave shuddered, knowing the threat of Yorke was very real, no matter how controlled he may seem. It wouldn't take much - Nave had seen the pictures of the Box Tunnel 20. How in the name of holies did Maggie Dan expect him to find and stop Yorke? But then he remembered; Yorke had been issued a tranquiliser. Perhaps he hadn't used it. Perhaps, he still had it on him.

Nave logged into the internal system on his phone to find the call number assigned to Yorke's dart gun. The log showed it as having been activated less than ten minutes ago. Nave knew that a lot could happen in ten minutes, but he also knew it was the only lead they had. He zoomed in on the coordinates and was surprised to see the location as being outside of the eastern end of park.

Could a wolf have gotten through the barrier? He wondered. But then again, Millar could have ended up with the weapon. And if she did, could she have actually used it against Yorke?

Nave gave one last glance to his assigned post, then headed east.


By the time Alex had dragged Hal under the overhang of the ice cream stand, his clothes were soaked through from the rain. Alex wasn't all that experienced with hauling bodies. Hal probably knew a much better way to go about it, she thought with irony. The task was a welcome distraction even if it was futile. It kept her from thinking too much on what had just happened. It kept her from really analysing why she felt so coldly detached from everything.

She watched the return of the helicopter with the same ambivalent numbness. Alex remained seated where she was, cross-legged on the pavement next to Hal. He still hadn't moved. His head had landed turned away from her, but she could still see the steady rise and fall of his chest. She could still see the darker stain of blood all down his front that rain wouldn't wash away. She didn't know what she would do when he woke up.

The helicopter descended to gingerly land in the middle of the open roundabout in front of them. The thrumping blades stirring a wind that she couldn't feel, but the pulse of sound beat through her chest. A van approached bearing some rubbish about a maintenance and repair company, but Alex knew it was the Department. The panel door slid open before the vehicle had even stopped. She was so occupied with watching them bring out the still and bloodied form of Jonathan Castle, that she hadn't noticed the approaching footsteps.

"Miss Millar? Are you there?"

A torch beam landed on Hal's boot, illuminating their small shelter while the rain pounded down on Mike Nave. His gaze was searching the space over her head, looking for some sign of her.

"Yeh, I'm here" she answered before remembering that he couldn't hear her anymore than he could see her. She was dubious of the Department, but something in Nave's cautious question was disarming. She would never stop thinking of him as her detective, hired by her family in a vain attempt to find her, all those months ago. But now he was entrenched in all this as much as she. Both of their lives forever changed by chance encounters. She pulled at the sleeve of Hal's jacket, lifting his hand then letting it fall. Nave's gaze fixed on the movement, startled, then he exhaled a breath.

"Ah," he said, then gave a brusque wave towards the helicopter. "I take it you've gotten stuck for some reason?" Nave asked, giving a nod to the operative that looked their way. Without waiting for an answer he turned back to them. "How's about we get sleeping beauty there moved before he wakes up, eh?"

Mike Nave wanted to help them. Alex hadn't realized the weight of her hopelessness, until it was lifted. She had never been so glad to see her detective.