A/N: This chapter is from Vanessa's POV again, because where chapter 4 left off, I felt it should be continued with her thoughts. Thank you for the follows and the favs and lovely reviews for this little fic! It encourages me to write more;) And also I realized that the last chapter was a bit short so, to make up for that, I've made this one longer:)

Happy Reading and R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own (sadly) Penny Dreadful and/or its characters, it belongs to the one and only John Logan.

I am awakened by a considerably, warm body pressed against my back, and a heavy arm draped unartfully across my stomach.

Apparently, his subconscious has thrown all propriety out the window.

I want to roll my eyes.

But since when have we ever worried about what others think?

Slowly circling around, I crane my neck to get a better look at the man next to me.

He's younger in sleep, almost boyish. His shortly cropped hair is slightly disheveled, and the lines of stress around his eyes have vanished with the dawn.

I lightly, so not to wake him, brush my index finder along his thick eyebrows and then continue down his straight nose, reveling in the fact that he is here with me.

He truly is beautiful.

His eyelids flutter, and I hold my breath, waiting. But he stays asleep, tightening his hold on me. I close my eyes, breathing in his comforting scent.

He smells of earth and smoke and something else that is entirely Ethan.

With a silly grin on my face, I fall happily back to sleep.

OooooooooO

The next time I wake, I am alone.

Reaching out to the vacant spot next to me, I notice it is still warm.

I must have just missed him.

Curious as to where Ethan is I pull on my shawl and make my way down the hall. The delicious scent of brewing tea and coffee wafts its way through the house and, I smile in victory as I make it to the end of the steps without assistance.

I enter the kitchen unnoticed. His back is to me, and I watch as he pours steaming tea into my favorite teacup.

"I had no idea you were so domestic, Mr. Chandler." I tease, settling into one of the chairs at the table.

He looks my way, his eyes almost shy.

Ethan Chandler, shy? Never.

"And you have a light step, Miss Ives." He jests back

"Oh, and Sir Malcolm left a note for you, saying that there was some business he needed to attend to in town." Reaching into his vest pocket, Ethan pulls out a folded parchment with Malcolm's scrawl on it.

I read it.

Back in a week? What business, I wonder?

Ethan hands me my cup and sits in the chair across from me.

Folding the note back I murmur a thank you and take a sip of the soothing liquid, relishing in the way it thaws me from the inside out, warming my insides. These past few days have left a cold chill that has seemingly settled to my bones.

When I open my eyes, I find Ethan watching me, a look in those auburn eyes so intense I almost glance away.

"What is it?" I ask

He blinks and then clears his throat. "I was just thinking of how good it is being here again. You and Sir Malcolm are the only family I have left."

His confession sends a jolt to my heart.

I don't know what happened while he was away in America, but whatever it was, made an impact on him. I want to ask, but I know he will tell me when he is ready to.

I won't push him.

Reaching across the table, I squeeze his wrist. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

I hold his gaze, hoping he can read in my eyes, just how much it meant to me.

He smiles kindly. "Of course."

"You are, I think, the first person I have ever slept in a bed with," I look down embarrassed, "Aside from Mina when we were girls, of course."

I don't know why I tell him this. It just sort of came out. I have kept so many things to myself for so long, that perhaps I just needed him to know this one thing.

So before he can say anything, I finish the remnants of my tea and stand up.

"It is such a lovely day, and I could use the fresh air, perhaps a walk?

OooooooooO

Every day for the next week Ethan makes my tea in my preferred cup, and if the weather holds, we stroll through the streets of London until our feet ache. In the evening we pass a cigarette back and forth, sharing stories of our youth while steering clear of dark subjects. And each night he stays with me, always leaving one candle burning.

This becomes our routine, our ignorant bliss, of which we both know, will ultimately shatter.

And it does. The night before Sir Malcolm is set to return.

I draw the curtains closed with a harsh tug, shutting out the view of the storm outside.

Usually, I would leave them open and watch the world outside my window, come alive with each distant rumble of thunder.

But not tonight.

Ethan is blowing out all the candles, but the one and if he detects anything out of the ordinary he doesn't mention it.

But from the way he is watching me from the corner of his eye, I know he senses something is off.

I climb into bed and face away from his worried glances.

Maybe I just need to rest. I'll be better tomorrow.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

I close my eyes and will myself to sleep.

When I open my eyes, it is not the familiar surroundings of my room, nor is there a warm body next to mine. Instead, I'm met with white padded walls and an iron door.

The white room from my stay in the hospital.

I'm dreaming, surely.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wake up, wake up.

"Vanessa…"

My head shoots up, and I look around, my eyes stopping at the figure sitting in the corner of the room.

John Clare.

Or at least him, from before his accident.

He never did tell me his name…

Relief seeps into my bones, at the sight of him, and I feel my feet move across the floor until I'm resting my head in his lap.

Tender hands stroke my hair and then cup my face so that I am looking straight into his eyes.

I draw back.

They are neither the forgiving blue or the kind yellow eyes, of the man sitting before me. No, these eyes are as black as night, and they are more familiar than I'd like to admit.

I try and wrench my face from his bruising grip, wrapping my hands around his wrists and pulling with all the strength in me.

It doesn't work; he is too strong.

"You." I rasp out.

He stands up, dragging me with him until I am backed against the padded wall. "Yes."

"Why?"

He laughs, it's a cold hollow sound, and it sends chills up my spin.

"Don't you see? He hisses, "The dragon is dead, and you are now mine for the taking."

"So why don't you?" I ask.

Why didn't he come for me after Dracula was killed when I was at my most vulnerable? It would have been easy for him to just slip into my mind and take me.

Then it hits me.

"You can't can you? There is something blocking me from you."

This demon has shown his face to me countless of times, has brought out this horrid darkness inside of me, but he has never actually been able to consume me fully.

Why I wonder…

I look into his black eyes.

He breathes harshly, tightening his fingers against my cheeks, which have started to go numb.

"If you think I can't get to you, then my dear, you are wrong. It has already begun, that darkness you feel will only get harder to control. You are letting your guard down."

He runs his nose along my face, breathing deeply. "I'll be seeing you soon Vanessa."

And then he is gone. Leaving me alone in the white room.

I push myself off the wall and try the door.

It's locked.

I let out a sob and slide down to the floor.

Why am I not waking up?

My eyes are closed, and I'm focusing on my breathing when I hear it.

My name.

I squeeze my eyes tighter and follow the faint voice in my head, leading me back out of the darkness.

OooooooooO

"Vanessa, wake up!"

My eyes snap open and focus on Ethan's worried face. "Christ." He breathes, crushing me to him.

I cling to him, my tears soaking into his night shirt. Shaking with adrenaline, I reach up and pull his face down to mine, brushing my lips with his.

He tenses and in the back of my mind I can hear him telling me to stop. But I don't stop. Instead I drag my lips down to his neck, trying to stir this emptiness taking place inside me.

With desperate fingers, I start unbuttoning his shirt, but Ethan's hands are there in an instant, gently pushing mine away.

"Vanessa stop." My eyes widen at the harshness in his voice.

Covering my hand over my mouth, I try, but fail to hold back a sob. Mortified, I begin to untangle myself from his lap, but the hands covering mine, stop me.

"Don't think for a minute that I don't want to," he whispers, "Because I do."

He gently brushes a sweaty strand of hair from my face.

"But not like this," He smiles sadly, "When the time comes I want it to just be you and me, with nothing between us."

I nod and place my head against his chest. "I want that too."

And I do, so much it makes my heart ache.

A/N: So, the plot thickens for Ethan and Vanessa…It seems like these two can never catch a break!

And what business did Sir Malcolm go into town for? Next chapter will be from Ethan's POV. Also, for those who asked about Mr. Clare, he will be making an appearance soon;) Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!