Heyo! This took a while to upload, wanted to get it just right cos I'm a bit nervous about it! But trust me, this will make sense in later chapters. Big thanks to those following this. As usual, apologies for any mistakes in grammar etc!
Mitchell growled at the pile – actually mountain - of paperwork stacked on his desk. This was ridiculous - he really needed to get a computer. Having sent everyone home in a bid for peace and quiet, B. Edwards Funeral Parlour was now empty and Mitchell rapped his fingers to a beat against the untidy desk, eyeing the clock. He was expecting Ivan any moment now and the thought produced yet another growl.
The plan to 'clean' the vampires off blood was going better than expected, with the exception of Ivan. He didn't know what to do about that. On one hand, he understood Ivan's reasoning – god it was hard enough for Mitchell and that didn't clock a milestone against Ivan – however on the other hand he was repulsed, knowing the reality. An innocent girl was locked away, awaiting a slow, horrid fate after a lengthy torment. It sickened him, what he was doing, but not enough to put an end to it. He had crossed a line and now wondered if it was too late to fix it.
The rusty squeak of the door startled Mitchell momentarily as Ivan let himself in, punctual as always.
"Left with the paper work again? Why don't you get a computer or some sort of assistant? I can sort you out if you want?" said Ivan, dragging a chair in front of the desk to sit down.
Mitchell grinned, "Nah, I'm an old fashion kind of guy Ivan, keeps me busy."
Ivan snorted, "Even the old crow has a twitter account, your behind in your times, live in the moment."
He suddenly turned very serious, "Listen, Mitchell, I know you've put your neck on the line covering for my failures. I know you despise my ethics and I, in a way, am disappointed too. However, I have an offer, a once in a lifetime opportunity that I cannot allow to pass. I'll go clean, I will set an example."
Confused, Mitchell scratched his neck, "What do you mean?"
Ivan bared his teeth, "Exchange the girl's life for some time with your ghost, your Annie?"
Mitchell rose from his seat, releasing a snarled breathed through his teeth and slammed his hands into the table, "No! You do not go anywhere near her, or to help me god I will rip your throat out."
Enjoying this side of Mitchell, Ivan spurred on, "Now Mitchell, this isn't for discussion. Give me temporary lone of her or our little secret will be revealed to all your blood lusting followers who will be out in the streets once again, devouring all the little blips of humans you wish to save."
"Ivan, don't do this. There has to be another way," pleaded Mitchell.
Ivan shook his head, idly glancing to his vintage watch, "I'm afraid I can't let a rare cuisine like this pass, you remember the stories, don't you? There all true."
Ivan let Mitchell simmer for a moment, before continuing.
"I'll give you an hour and then I'll be round. Oh and Mitchell, don't do anything irresponsible or I might be inclined to do something cruel," said Ivan, leaving the building.
Mitchell was speechless, he had no choice, couldn't even form any words apart from snarling noises. The vampires he led were barely holding it together as it was. If they knew about Ivan, all hell would break loose; the death toll would be uncontrollable.
He snatched his jacket and headed for the door, praying he wouldn't be delayed and convince Annie to what? Leave? He wasn't sure. He just had to get back to the house. Annie didn't deserve this – not to be involved in his mess.
Mitchell raced back to the house - he would break into a run if it didn't look suspicious. He was losing time and of course his prayers were not answered. As fate would have it, his car was clamped and Wilson, of all evenings, had cornered him about some job involving a paedo. The Chief Constable was beginning to become a hindrance; however that came with the territory. That problem could wait for another time.
Slamming the front door shut, Mitchell heard Annie and George in the kitchen bickering about Eastenders, and breathlessly swatted the hanging beads out of his way.
George stopped mid-sentence, panic setting in his eyes as he digested Mitchell's dishevelled appearance, "What's going on Mitchell? What's happened?"
Mitchell stood still for a moment, slowing down his thoughts. He walked over to Annie's occupied chair crouching down, "You need to get out of here now, there isn't much time."
"I'm not going anywhere Mitchell until you tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me!" said a confused Annie, registering fear in Mitchell's eyes.
"There isn't time to explain. Annie, please, we need to get you away now!" ordered Mitchell, grabbing her arm and pulling Annie to her feet.
George stood at the same time, seriously concerned about Mitchell's outburst.
"No! You're hurting my arm!" shouted Annie, causing Mitchell to release his grip and ruffle his hair frantically, wishing she would stop being so god damn stubborn for one minute.
"Look! Just rent-a-ghost to the cinema or something, for a couple of hours and I'll explain everything when you get back. In fact, let's all go. George, you're always banging on about never going out…"
George slammed his hands against the table and spoke with an unusual authority, "Ok, everyone, mainly Mitchell, needs to calm down! Right, now tell us what the hell is going on!"
George's request was answered by the doorbell and Mitchell gravely stared into the hallway was Ivan let himself into their home, "It's too late. I am sorry, so sorry…"
George and Annie watched Ivan edgily as he sauntered into the kitchen, as if this was his land, "Hello again! Please, take a seat we have some business to discuss."
Annie glanced to George, who looked just as worried as her, and to Mitchell who refused to remove his gaze from the floor. They sat.
"Let me get straight to the point, I'm blackmailing Mitchell. He's set up a good blood-free vampire group and I honestly can't give it up, in fact we have a nice young girl locked away all for my eating habits. That's were you come in Annie. I want your blood in exchange for the girl's life." He paused, letting the information settle, "I believe in Mitchell's goodness - a little bit unrealistic - but he's doing something."
"That's ridiculous! She's dead! How could that even work - not that she's going to do it," stammered George, utterly shocked and confused about Ivan's demand.
"You cry though, you feel and touch. It's an ancient legend that really only we old vampires know about. The blood of a powerful ghost like you Annie is the most tantalizing treasures we can ever experience. One drink can allow us to survive months without human blood. I've not see one like you for about 150 years!" said Ivan watching her with wonder.
"He's right," said Annie quietly. She had never told George or Mitchell she had accidentally cut herself once. A deep paper cut inducing a small trickle of blood sparking curiosity and fear. How could a ghost bleed?
Mitchell looked up suddenly, with a disappointed expression that implied 'why didn't you say anything?'
"I wasn't exactly going to flaunt it in your face Mitchell that I could bleed! I can be tactful on some occasions," said Annie matter-of-factly.
"My terms - release the girl, she'll have no recollection and I won't touch another human until I can go cold turkey as they say. I want to do it. Humans will be safe from us. And Mitchell will know if I touch a human, but that won't happen, will it?" summarised Ivan, clasping his fingers together on the table.
"Is this all true Mitchell?" asked Annie, facing him fully for the first time since Ivan's proposal, horrified he had gone to such unethical lengths.
Mitchell nodded his head, unable to meet her devastated stare, "I didn't know what else to do! Please, you have to understand…"
Annie turned back to Ivan, cutting Mitchell off with the flick of her hand, "Will it hurt?"
"No! Just stop this nonsense!" shrieked a flabbergasted George.
Annie shot him a silencing glance and he mouthed her name back at her in disbelief.
"Initially yes it will, but the pain will subside after time. You will feel weakened but with rest you'll be A-ok, back to normal," said Ivan.
"Annie, you're not doing this? How can you seriously consider this?" stammered George, wanting to physically shake sense into his friend.
"What choice do I have George? How can I sit here and drink tea, while that innocent girl is being ripped apart by those monsters? I can't turn my back knowing what's happening…that she's alone, I refuse," stated Annie, desperately needing George to realize this was not about her.
George turned to Mitchell to back him up, "Mitchell? Tell her this is insane! Absolutely ridiculous! We're not… pimping Annie out!"
"Annie, please…" sighed Mitchell, but he knew this was a pointless battle, her decision was made.
"Will you know if he's lying, if he kills another person again?" asked Annie.
Mitchell nodded his head solemnly, resolved. Her eyes were locked on his with so much finality and regret, it made his stomach twist. As though finally the pieces of puzzle were coming together, the ones he desperately hid from her because she deserved better, exposing the monster to her now open eyes.
"Ok, when do we do this?" asked Annie, pulling her sleeves to her elbows.
George made several 'pfht' noises and swung his arms in the air, "I'm not getting involved in this."
Annie placed a cool hand on his arm, stopping George from leaving – she couldn't do this alone.
"I've not fed for a week, how about tonight?" answered Ivan.
Annie shivered involuntarily, imagining a scared girl locked away for a week – alone and terrified. It sickened her. She remembered what Herrick had set up before, the 'blood bank'. She'd had witnessed the horrendous conditions, the death and desperation. And now Mitchell - who protected her and George, loved them - had done the same dreadful act.
"I think you should wait outside for this Mitchell, it might get a little uncomfortable," said Ivan, glancing over to an ashen Mitchell.
"No, I'm staying put Ivan," replied Mitchell. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her.
"Just go, I don't want you here Mitchell. Just come back when it's done. George, can you stay? Please, in the kitchen?" said Annie.
Her dismissive tone was enough to send Mitchell reluctantly outside to simmer in an impatient worry. He made sure he had plenty of cigarettes to tame his pacing across the pathway.
Annie nervously hugged her strained cardigan around her body as they moved to the living room.
"So, how does this go down then, do you seduce me or something. That's just in films isn't it?" she laughed, croaky and high-pitched. It's what she did when she was anxious; laugh inappropriately or blabber on and on.
Ivan stood before her, somehow radiating a calmness that relaxed her. He was definitely an unusual character, intimidating, but oozing an authority and disassociated charm related to life experience. It was a difficult concept to wrap her mind around - that someone could witness so much history, remain ageless for such a stretch of time. Annie wondered if she too would become an eternal soul - invisible to the world but witnessing the rise and fall of years to come. The thought had been plaguing her mind recently, worming its way in so her days and nights were consumed by what if?
"Sit and relax, Annie. Ask me anything, you want, I get the impression you like to ask questions," said Ivan, leaning back against the couch, crossing one leg in an elegant manner.
Timidly, Annie sat on the worn couch, knotting her fingers together. Her stomach tightened, non-existent heart fluttering in her rib cage – she recalled feeling this way waiting to get her ears pierced. "How old are you exactly? Mitchell hasn't really mentioned you before," she asked.
"Well, that does sound like Mitchell. It's been 247 years since I was first recruited," he replied and Annie's eyes boggled before she could stop herself, silently mouthing 'wow'.
"And you've met a ghost like me?" she asked, biting down on her curiosity and the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe this ghost was still about.
Ivan nodded his head, "Unlike the majority of vampires today, I was taught the ways of the old ones – the laws, the traditions, the milestones of history. My creator introduced me to the ways of an old world. We attended elite gatherings, host to a spectrum of supernaturals, some no longer in existence today. A shame really. Make no mistake though - our intentions were cruel and horrifying. Times were different back then. That's were I met her – the most anticipated guest. From what I was told, the girl originated from Japan, refused her door countless times and travelled the corners of the globe. Even then, young as I was, I knew she was different, the most corporal spirit I had seen – she radiated a power that drew you in. She was rooted to this plane, pulled strength and energy from her surroundings, until eventually she was no longer a ghost, but an entity entirely of her own will with no constraints. Her existence wasn't hidden, she chose her path."
Ivan eyes fazed back to a distant memory as he continued, "I remember her sliding a knife across her wrist, the blood, the smell…was the purest essence…it spilled into glasses and the elders drank."
"What happened to her?" whispered Annie, shocked at the blunt glimpse of vampire history, another step into Mitchell's hidden past.
"She disappeared. No one saw her again. Some say she finally chose her door, others say she simply vanished, consumed by the air."
Annie nodded and sunk into the heavy silence that followed. She couldn't phantom an understanding to this beautiful girl. Why would she offer herself to such brutality and exposure? Was there something to gain? Maybe she was into that sort of thing (Annie scoffed).
The clocks were ticking, an end was rushing closer whether Annie wanted it or not. Would she too vanish into the wind, no one knowing her fate? Would she finally be dragged to the other side, leaving George and Mitchell to only guess why her presence was missing, no goodbyes?
"You rejected your door. The rules have been altered," said Ivan, interrupting her worried thoughts. He was able to read her like a book, when even George or Mitchell struggled at the best of times. "Ultimately, it's you that chooses your path, the worlds your oyster."
Ivan tilted her head back as Annie relaxed onto the couch, "I have to say, this arrangement you have here is rather pleasant."
A buzz worked through Annie, running from her head down to her toes, as Ivan's smooth voice and intense eyes fixated her mind. She was now leaning against the head rest, frozen in place.
The hunger crept into Ivan's eyes, and Annie's breathing hitched as she waited for the inevitable. He swept her hair, exposing her neck, but to her surprise he reached for her wrist.
"For Mitchell's sake I'll leave your neck alone," said Ivan, as his eyes swirled into a coal-black darkness.
Annie squeezed her eyes shut as teeth broke through the thin skin of her wrist. The pain was instant, intense, throbbing. Her wrist burned and white spots danced behind her closed eyelids. Sounds thudded against her eardrums, making every hum echo. She could feel blood drain, pulling her energy with it. It was an odd sensation; unnatural that a ghost should bleed. Yet, she wasn't a normal ghost was she? She had defied deaths door and now the rules were unwritten.
As quickly as the pain began, it wore off, easing into an uncomfortable, yet bearable numbness. Time passed unnoticed as Annie floated through a dream-like stance. She felt light, unattached to anything, free of her fears but once again the thought of vanishing into nothingness returned her thudding back to the present.
Ivan finished, lapping any remaining droplets from her prickling wrist. Annie lifted her heavy eyelids, anticipating a bloody mess, but Ivan had done a good job, clean, no blood in sight.
Ivan gently placed her onto the couch, sitting her legs onto his now vacant seat. She obliged, physically unable to move, everything blurry and dim. Through tired thoughts she wondered if their victims felt like this – a dream-like trance.
"Don't blame Mitchell for this, he's a good man," said Ivan quietly, before turning to a white-faced George sitting on the bottom stairs.
George immediately stood, clearly unsure what to do or say.
Ivan patted his shoulder, instructing the werewolf, "Keep beside her until she feels better, she'll know when, ghosts need the contact to recharge." Ivan's eyes flicked to the front door, "I'll let Mitchell in."
George nodded his head violently, "Yeah, ok," and made his way over to Annie. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully, but on closer inspection he discovered her eyes were slightly opened, unfocused.
With a final glance to George, Ivan opened the front door and met an agitated Mitchell, throwing the remains of a cigarette to the ground.
"Pull yourself together Ivan," hissed Mitchell, shoving past and slamming the door in his bemused face.
Mitchell rushed into the living room and all but jogged over to the couch, gently pushing George out the way so he could kneel in front of Annie.
"Mitchell, just leave her alone, you've done enough for one night!" snapped George trying to pull Mitchell away, only to be shrugged off.
"No I need to know she's ok," said Mitchell.
"George, its ok, you big lump, I'm fine, just a little sleepy that's all," whispered Annie, smiling weakly, squeezing George's twitching hand, in attempt to reassure him.
Mitchell examined her face with his fingers, looking for any marks. He was concerned about her appearance; she wasn't as corporal as usual, fading in and out. She looked sickly, and pale, eyes dimmed of their usual brightness.
"I'm so sorry," mumbled Mitchell, his voice engulfed with remorse as he caressed her face. He couldn't see any bite marks on her neck.
Sensing what Mitchell was searching for, she whispered 'wrist', before exhaustion overtook her and for the first time since death, she slept.
Mitchell examined the raw bite on Annie's wrist, thankfully fading back to normal.
"Is she ok? Should she be fading like that?" asked a panicked George.
"She's sleeping George," said Mitchell, shrugging off his jacket, "she'll be ok when she wakes." At least physically anyway, he worried.
"Ivan said human touch will…restore her. Will that work?" stammered George.
"It can be me too. I'll stay with her George, you go to bed," said Mitchell, already positioned on the couch with Annie wrapped close around him, careful not to wake her.
George stood still, unsure what to do until Mitchell nodded, encouragingly, "She'll be ok in the morning George."
"You brought this into our home," said George, refusing to look at Mitchell.
"I know," said Mitchell, regretfully, combing a finger through Annie's hair.
With a last worried look at Annie, George retired to his room.
Mitchell wondered if George would forgive him for this, but at this moment, he was too concerned about Annie to care. He continued to watch her sleep until he finally joined her, falling into an uneasy slumber.
Thanks for reading! BTW, a bit random but I remem TW mentioned that initially (instead of killing Mitchell off in S3) he was going to turn Mitchel to the dark side. I would love someone to write an alternative S4 where this happens! I can only think of one scene so I'd be rubbish at writing it myself!