Disclaimer: I own nothing. Incredibly thankful beyond words for the world that Toby Whithouse has created and for the character of Hal that Damien Molony has brought to life. All mistakes are my own.

This chapter brought to you from my beta Saemay's house. I came to meet her in person/visit for the weekend! It's been major awesomeness!

Title and inspiration for this chapter from the song "Dreamer" by Uh Huh Her

Ch. 6 Dreamer

In a panic, Sylvie throws on a dress and hurries to check Hal's room. His room is empty, devoid of any sign there had been an occupant that weekend. If Federico decided he had sufficient cause he might have - no, she pushes that thought away.

Running downstairs she asks after both men. Hal had departed early that morning, leaving a polite note. She recognizes his precise script but has to read it over three times before feeling relief that in fact he had left alive and well, metaphorically. The other man and his wife departed more recently, her parents having seen them off. It feels surreal to see how unconcerned everyone in the room is. She escapes the house and runs down the lane to the water.

This used to be a happy, favourite spot for her. Arriving now it feels haunted with conflicting memories. The arranged pebbles stand out unnaturally upon the shoreline, drawing her gaze as she approaches a small mound at the base of a tree with a freshly carved cross on it's trunk. She sits down facing the freshly turned dirt, her hand patting the ground in soothing circles as she thinks.

Her dog, her grandmother, and her brother are all dead. She loves her parents, but they'd been distant after her brother's death. Had it not been for her grandmother taking her away, patiently nurturing, she probably would have let herself die, to join her twin. But she hadn't given up on life; instead she had started dreaming of a future filled with happiness - the silly dreams young girls have of falling in love with a man who will sweep them off their feet and take them away to live a happily ever after.

And then she'd met him. She thinks about the night she first saw Hal. Even as young as she had been, she'd been drawn to him. How innocent and haunted his eyes had looked as he sat strapped in that chair, how utterly mesmerizing he'd become for those few moments, giving her a glimpse into a hidden world she was instantly intrigued with. Many a night she'd lain remembering, wondering, dreaming. Then to see him again after such a long time... His eyes still have that innocent and haunted look, the same eyes in that unchanging face.

She thinks of Hal's actions the previous night; cleaning up the aftermath, holding him, his tremors, her sorrow, his whispered remorse-filled words. It's all a dizzying combination. Hal is like a broken puzzle, a collection of seemingly random fragments. If you apply yourself, patiently matching them up, piece by piece, when enough of them are together you start seeing the whole emerge. She knows intuitively she will never truly see the whole Hal Yorke, but she feels a desire, a craving, to see how many pieces she can decipher, how much of him she can have. Her heart has really left her no choice.

With her mind made up, she goes inside, sends a servant with a note to Hal's home and has a bath drawn. As she washes away the last of the blood and tears clinging to her from the night before she feels her conviction strengthen.

By the time she comes down to the evening meal her servant is back with a letter. She opens it, fearful of what she'll find. It could hardly be any worse - the note is not in Hal's hand. Instead she reads that Hal had only stopped a couple hours that morning before departing to London. London represented everything Hal was running away from. If he was going there... She knows she needs to stop him.

Joining her parents at their evening meal, she explains away her missing dog and Hal's peculiar behaviour and invents an alibi for departing the next day. As she expects, her parents acquiesce with little coaxing. She dispatches her servant with another letter, this time to the werewolf and his wife.

The next morning finds her early at their home. Gemma welcomes her warmly, but Federico get's right to the point, asking what has happened. Sylvie tells them Hal had gone to London the day before, and confides her fears that he might have gone to join the vampires there.

"What gives you that idea?" Gemma asks, but Federico is not surprised. He says simply, "It was only a matter of time. It's in his nature."

"No!" Sylvie is adamant. "That's not what he truly wants. He made a comment to me once about becoming bad and ending the pain. I think he's running back to something comforting, something easier, but I know in his heart he wants to stay good. Last night was - difficult - for him. He reached a point where he could no longer cope and had to release the pent up frustration somehow. But he had the presence of mind to not hurt any people, to not hurt me. What he did - logically I know I should hate him or feel disgusted. I should want to forget him. But I can't. You didn't see him throughout the night, you didn't hear how remorseful he was. I care for him too much to give up on him. I know you have your prejudices, and I understand them. But please, will you help me bring him back, get him safe?"

The Spaniard begins pacing before speaking. "The man I knew then, Lord Harry, he was sadistic, cruel, heartless. In just the one year I was chained up he killed and had killed dozens of people. Worse, he played games with them, hurt them, broke them until they welcomed death. He does not deserve to taint the world with his presence any longer... " He stops his pacing and faces Sylvie with a resigned sigh. "The man I've seen now, Hal, he is not the same man. I baited him and he resisted. Blood was spilled and he resisted. I saw what he did with the rocks. I believe you are right, he is trying to be a good man." He looks lovingly at his wife then back at Sylvie, "I have done things I am not proud of, and I live my life trying to atone for those things. If you think he can succeed, I will help you give him the chance."

When they arrive in the city hours later they go directly to Hal's London house, only to be told that he had never come there. His coachman had dropped him off at a warehouse and had been instructed to go to the house, but had not been told anything further.

Federico knows the place. His contacts in the werewolf underground had long suspected it to be the vampire headquarters. They park across the street from the building. Seeing a few guards milling about, they sit waiting to confirm that Hal is indeed there. Sylvie wishes she could just storm in, feeling that each second that passes Hal is pulling further away from her, but she isn't stupid. After a lengthy wait they are finally rewarded as a coach pulls up. The warehouse door opens and she sees him come out, accompanied by two men. She recognizes the man from the the ball almost a year ago, but the other man is a stranger. Blond haired with grey-blue eyes and a pleasant enough face, he looks perhaps ten years older than Hal, though she has no way of knowing his true age. Her friend tells her the blond man is Jacob, current leader of the vampires in London.

Hal looks... unwell. Dressed as meticulously as ever in his blue tailcoat, his top hat, light breeches and hessian boots, he looks the part of a successful, confident man. But even from the distance she can see his skin looks clammy, he's shaky, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Federico points this out as a good sign. If Hal had fed recently he would look much better.

Hal gets into the coach alone and they follow. It is leading away from the location of Hal's home, and Federico suspects Hal is going to a hotel and gentleman's club owned by the vampires. With a sinking feeling Sylvie realizes her chance to reach him is slim. As the two coaches pull up to the vampire establishment, Sylvie, her heart hammering with trepidation, loses no time in wrenching the door open and jumping down to intercept Hal.

As Hal turns away from his coach he sees her running towards him, his eyes growing wide. "Sylvie, what are you doing here?" He exclaims, visibly agitated.

She stops a few feet away, breathing heavily. "I would ask the same of you Hal. Why are you here in London?"

He glances over at the vampires at the entrance, relieved they seem occupied with another patron, then approaches her with slow steps. Despite looking tired in her rumpled dark grey traveling dress, with wild strands of her hair escaping her chignon, her flushed cheeks and bright eyes still draw his attention. He says quietly, "Sylvie, you must leave. It isn't safe for you here."

She holds her ground. "I will not leave until I've had a proper talk with you Hal. There are some things I need to say, some things you need to know. We can do this right here or somewhere a bit more private?"

Hal huffs impatiently. She is wearing her stubborn look. He looks around, then walks off to an alley two buildings over. As he passes her coach and he sees the werewolf inside he clenches his jaw.

The alley is strewn with debris, a pile of crates nearby, but empty of any people. He gestures her forward and then follows, keeping a few feet away. "Sylvie this is not the proper behaviour of a lady of your standing. Do your parents even know you are in London? And in the company of that man?"

"My parents believe I am a guest of his wife's at their home, staying for some undetermined time. We rushed here as quickly as we could."

With sad eyes Hal says, "Sylvie... I'm sorry you had to see that side of me. I didn't know... I didn't think there was any way to apologize. There aren't words... So I left. Leaving is the right thing to do."

She falters momentarily, all the thoughts she'd had, all the words she'd planned swirling around for attention. Finally she says simply, "I came to bring you home."

Hal looks at her incredulously. "Home? You can't be serious! I killed your dog for Chrissakes! You can't possibly be deluded any longer as to my nature."

"No. I am not deluded. I know who you are, what your are."

"Sylvie, you haven't seen the worst of me. What I did two nights ago, that is just a small glimpse of the monster I am. But it should be enough to dissuade you from having any more contact with me."

Sylvie says tenderly, "Hal, I've seen enough to know that you, the real you, did not choose to do what you did. I've seen you killing yourself to resist those urges. Deep down the real you is a good man."

Heatedly Hal replies, "I think you fail to grasp the full extent of what I'm capable of. What I am, it is an elemental part of me, has been for more lifetimes than I have a right to have lived. Not one second of those lifetimes has the compulsion, the hunger, for blood ever ceased. The hunger is the length and breadth of me. The monster is always simmering just under the surface, threatening to drown me in the rage and violence and destruction that it craves. I try to suppress it, to fight it, but in time the inevitable happens, as you witnessed two nights ago. I have tried to live amongst humans, but I'm living a charade and I'm never ever truly safe. The pain of what I might do at any moment is just too much. It is better I live with my own kind."

"Bullocks. I'm not convinced."

"Excuse me?" Hal says with a deep frown.

Sylvie approaches him so that she is almost touching him. He looks panicky as he steps back, pressing himself to the side of the building.

In challenging tone she says, "Convince me you aren't in control. Convince me you're a danger right now."

He retorts sardonically, "Shall I make you a list of all my kills, hmm? We'll be here... awhile."

"No, Hal, I do not ask about the people you killed 10, 50 or even 100 years ago. I want to know who you killed today."

"I haven't killed anyone today."

"Yesterday?"

He says flatly, "Well there was your dog..."

"What about 6 months ago?"

With a breath of frustration he tries to interject, "Sylvie -"

"What about 6 years ago? After you went clean? After your last long bout of being bad Hal. It must have taken you months in that chair to rid yourself of the effects of so many years on the blood. When you finally came out, did you go on a rampage?"

"No I didn't, but -"

"Wouldn't you say that was one of the most volatile times? And yet you didn't succumb. You resisted. You found the strength the fight the monster. Coming to this weekend - you were faced with strenuous circumstances, yet you found ways to cope. You ran away from the humans -"

"I killed your dog!"

She ignores his interruption. "You didn't kill me although we were in the same room all night. You've even kept away from your servants, sending your coachman home safe."

Closing his eyes Hal lets out a sigh, "The temptation -"

"Yes the temptation is there. It will always be there and I cannot even begin to fathom what it feels like, what it takes for you to resist. But I think you are also using that as an excuse. I think the real impetus for your crisis of faith is that you are scared of feeling. You are scared of loving someone and having someone love you back, of entrusting your heart and having it broken. You've been living the life of an emotional eunuch, well of a eunuch in general, because you are frightened of hurting again. I know you hurt, but life is that way for all of us. It is the sum of the good times and the bad times and at any given moment we choose paths that might lead to more pain. But what choice do we have? An existence without love - that is no existence at all!"

Hal looks down at her sadly. "Sylvie, you've built up this notion that just by choosing to be good I can suddenly become the happy human. I hate to break the illusion, but that simply isn't true. This is not the first time I've tried."

Sylvie takes on a pleading tone, "Perhaps it hasn't worked in the past because you did not have the right person to help you. You have coping mechanisms to suppress those urges, but it is impossible to suppress everything. You also need positive outlets. That is what I can give you. We can go somewhere secluded to minimize temptations. We can build a peaceful, happy life together."

Hal snorts derisively, "You are such a naïve child. You have no idea what you are offering. You think you can play house with a monster, but that monster would tear your throat out in a heartbeat and discard you like rubbish. I have hurt and killed everyone that I've even remotely cared about before, there's no reason to believe this... venture... would end any differently." Suddenly he makes a cutting off motion in the air. "Jesus, why are we even still entertaining this conversation?!"

Sylvie paces away angrily. "No, you're right! Lets just get this over with!" She goes over to the pile of crates and comes back with a broken board. "You may as well just stake yourself right now! Here, I'll help you!" She levels the pointier end at his chest. "I will end your misery so that then maybe I have a chance to be out of mine."

Hal rolls his eyes. "Sylvie you're proclivity for hyperbole is... staggering."

"Why is it so hard to believe that I could have such strong feelings for you? That humans are capable of love so strong it transcends all else?"

"Because in 300 years I've seen quite the opposite. I've seen the worst of humanity, the degradation, cruelty and hate people are capable of. You have idealistic attitudes that I find... envious... but they are misguided. Wishing something to be true doesn't make it magically happen. Life simply does not work that way." Pausing he looks down at the piece of wood then back into her eyes, "But perhaps you are right. This should end now." Hal puts his hands over hers, steadying the makeshift stake, pushing it towards his heart.

They stand there staring at each other an interminable moment. Finally Sylvie opens her hands, letting the wood fall to the floor with a thud, all her bluster leaving her.

The wetness in her eyes spilling over she says emotionally, "I can't. Killing you would be like ripping my heart in two."

"Better metaphorically than literally."

"I went through losing part of me before. I don't think I could survive it again. I would rather set you free to join those other vampires, to revert to the demon you become, than to have you irrevocably gone forever. What kind of a person does that make me?"

Hal doesn't have an answer.

Sylvie looks at him standing there so clearly tortured, the wall she'd been chipping away at for months building itself up around him. She needs to reach him now before he leaves her. She walks away from him once more looking at the ground. Hal frowns as she picks up a shard of glass.

Hal says softly, "Sylvie, what are you doing?"

Looking directly into his eyes, Sylvie replies just as softly, "I'm going to prove a point."

As he sees her bring the glass to her palm Hal cries out, "Noooo!" He moves to stop her, but is too late. He halts himself short directly in front of her, suddenly hyper aware of everything. The rapid pounding of her heart he's been trying to ignore overpowers all other sounds. The smell hits him - salty, hinting of warmth and fullness. He sees the welling of the crimson line expanding, drops begin overflowing to fall in the space between them. His whole body trembles with the effort it takes to look away from the tempting droplets, his jaw clenches with the struggle it takes to hold back the fangs that want to push down, his eyes water with emotion as he tries to look back up to her eyes without his turning black.

As she sees Hal struggle, Sylvie is afraid she's gone too far, but she's committed now. She feels that somehow this is the right thing to do, to test him, to push him. She watches as he gasps in concentration, then his eyes come up to hers. His beautiful green flecked eyes now brimming with moisture meet hers and she breathes a sigh of relief. Ignoring her racing heart she asks calmly, "Do you want to hurt me now? Is that the feeling you have right at this moment?"

"I... no... I don't want to hurt you." He says with quiet desperation.

"You see. We can do this. I'm willing to take the chance. I'm willing to give us a chance. I have the right to make a choice for my life, and I chose you."

"Yes, your life. I want to preserve that. That is why I must leave. Now."

He turns away, but her words give him pause. "Hal! Just promise me one thing. Whether you stay good now on your own, or give in and become bad again for a while, come back to yourself. Don't ever stop fighting or give up the hope that one day you will win. Deep down inside, you are still capable of love and compassion. Deep down, you are still human."

Without turning he orders, "Stay here. I'll send the werewolf to pick you up," and he walks away.

She hates this house, the house her brother died in. She wonders if he's still here, if he's been here all this time and she's never felt his presence. It saddens her immensely to think that. I'll have to ask... well she really doesn't want to know anyway.

She sits on the ground in the garden trailing her fingers through the lavender, letting the scent soothe her, concentrating on not thinking, not feeling. She doesn't know how long she's been there when suddenly...

"Sylvie."

She looks up and there he stands, a pleading look on his face. "Please help me. I don't want to be that man."

With a warm grin she jumps up and almost hugs him. But she stops herself as she sees his eyes travel to her bandaged hand, his whole body shaking.

"Oh Hal, I was so afraid I'd lost you!" She tempers her enthusiasm with practicality. "How do we do this? Shall I take you to your house? Or do we need to go somewhere more remote? We'll leave now and run far away where we can keep you safe -"

"No Sylvie, we can't run away together. I do not want your virtue questioned."

"Hal, you know what others think doesn't concern me."

"But it concerns me." He approaches her tentatively. "You are an innocent, fragile creature - " He breaks off at her raised eyebrow, "Very well, not fragile. You are a confident, magnetic, willful woman, yet you possess a delicate nature nonetheless, and I want to be worthy of it. There's been enough debauchery in my past to last many lifetimes. I will do this properly."

"Then what will we do?"

His reluctance plain in his pinched lips and closed eyes he says, "I was hoping the dog - Mr. De La Villa - would be of assistance. If your parents are under the impression you are their guest, perhaps their home would be the best stage for my... recovery. Though I'd prefer you were not exposed to it at all, I do believe it would be a... comfort... to have you there." He pauses for a moment. "However, there might be some... unpleasant cleanups necessary. And I'll plead and threaten. I will need a firm hand. Once I am safe I will continue to need structure and discipline in order to maintain control."

"I do hope I won't have to be your child-nurse for too long."

He is pensive, "Animal blood is not quite the same as human blood, and I didn't ingest much. It varies but I do not think too long. It won't be as extreme as you saw in the cellar. This is more a precaution." He continues with his instructive tone, "I will also need to stay secluded, away from as many people as possible, with activities to keep me focused, to help me stay in control."

With a mischievous grin she says, "I can certainly think of one secluded activity to keep you focused, though not sure if control is the right word -"

"Sylvie, this is no jesting matter."

Sylvie lets out a laugh, a sound carrying her relief that the uncertainties and trials of the last week have concluded in what she's fought for since she first met him. "I know Hal, it's just that... I feel so happy, I cannot help but tease you a bit. And admit it, that is one of the qualities you admire about me."

He looks at her straight-faced, but she detects a small twitch of his lips.

"I do believe we'll inject you with some my "idealistic attitudes" yet!"