"How're you holdin' up, B?"

Brigitte grumbled in reply, as they stumbled slowly down the road. She kept her hand pressed to her side, where she'd been shot. The makeshift bandage they'd made out of Ginger's torn-up shirt was holding…barely.

On the plus side, she'd made it through the night ripping anybody's throat out with her teeth. On the downside…

"Think I'm dying." Brigitte groaned, warily removing her hand. Still sticky with her blood.

Her healing had slowed to normal right in time for Mike to shoot a hole through her side. Typical, really.

"You'd better fuckin' not." Ginger scoffed, hoisting her up again.

The sheer amount of monkshood she'd put in that dose had smothered the hunger, crushed the wolf aching to break free.

She'd meant it for Ginger, but…so much for that.

"It's never part of the plan, but…" She groaned, clutching her side again. "…but…plans…never been good with those."

"You and me both, B." Ginger quipped. "Ghost better be there." She added, sounding more serious.

"I gave her some reasons to be." Brigitte replied, slowly.

Sirens filled the air around them. The black sky was just beginning to give way to the first red tint of morning, in the east.

"They're getting c-"

They heard a car, at the end of the road. Moments later they saw the white bonnet of another police car.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." Ginger hissed, pulling them to an awkward halt.

Brigitte looked around, her eyes stopping on Hoskin's diner, across the road.

"Ginge." She nodded toward it.

"I don't think he'll help us, B."

Brigitte thought back to their last meeting, and her own actions for the last month. She'd not given the old man much cause to trust her.

And then there was the fact that they looked like rejects from a low-budget horror movie.

"We don't have much choice." Brigitte replied, turning to her sister.

Ginger looked from the car, to her, and back. She muttered something under her breath, before she tightened her hold around Brigitte's waist and half-dragged, half carried her across the road, coming to a stop outside the diner. None of the lights were on. He might not even be in, after Jason wrecked the place.

Ginger knocked on the door hurriedly, then pulled Brigitte's arm quickly back over her shoulder before she slipped to the floor…again.

"Come on, come on…" Her older sister hissed.

Brigitte watched the car approaching, slowly. They hadn't been spotted yet.

"Hoskins!" Brigitte muttered, tensely.

The door opened suddenly. Hoskins stepped to one side.

"Inside." He ordered, brushing them in and closing the door behind them.

Ginger helped her into a seat at one of the tables. Brigitte swatted her off irritably when she tried to check on her wound, but Ginger growled and persevered.

Hoskins sat on a table across from them, arms crossed.

Outside, the police car rolled by, leaving them behind.

"I have t'admit, I thought you were takin' the piss. About the werewolf thing." Hoskins said, shrugging slightly. "Till that thing attacked my place. And…seein' you two now."

"I don't suppose you'd believe we were just dressing up for a party?" Ginger ventured, peeling aside the torn remnants of her blood-soaked top.

"Nah." Hoskins shook his head, slowly. "Not anymore. Wasn't a drug problem you had, was it, Brigitte?"

She looked up at Hoskins, frowning slightly. Didn't seem much point in lying anymore.

"Not unless you count running short of monkshood and turning into a monster three nights every month."

"Your sister too, I take it?"

"I was first. Bitten." Ginger replied, taking off her jacket and removing what was left of her shirt. "Lucky me." She quipped, sarcastically.

Brigitte found her eyes drawn to her sister's body, bare but for her grey bra. Ginger caught her eye and half-smiled.

"I infected myself." Brigitte added.

"That's on me." Ginger tore her shirt into strips, indicating for Brigitte to undo her hoodie and lift her top.

"What about the other one?" Hoskins asked.

"Jason. My bad too." Ginger sighed, wearily.

"Did you…bite him?" Hoskins asked, half-looking out the windows, watching for more cars.

"No, we had sex." Ginger replied. Brigitte kicked her. "Hey, it was my first…and unfortunately last time!"

"Ginger!" Brigitte glowered.

Ginger grinned and went back to bandaging her side.

"Werewolves…" Hoskins mumbled, shaking his head. "It'd be too much to believe if…"

"If the two of us weren't sitting here, bleeding all over the place and looking like…" Brigitte rambled, pulling down her top and sitting up straight.

"Extras from Dog Soldiers?" Ginger ventured.

"Something like that." Brigitte shrugged. She looked outside. The sky was getting lighter. "We'd better get moving."

Ginger nodded, taking her arm and pulling it around her shoulder again, then helped her up, holding her close.

"Out the back." Hoskins led them across the diner, past the counter. He stopped at the door, and turned, looking pensively at the pair of them.

"What?" Ginger asked, impatiently.

Brigitte tensed, having a feeling what he was going to ask.

"Have you…have you killed anyone, Brigitte?" He asked, warily.

Brigitte held his gaze, exhaling slowly.

"Once, or so I thought." She glanced at her sister. Ginger smiled weakly. "No." She shook her head.

Hoskins glanced across at Ginger.

"I have." Ginger replied, steadily, unblinking.

Hoskins breathed out, slowly, looking tired. He pulled something out of his pocket and held it out. It was money.

"Take this. It's not much." He shrugged.

"I'm not taking your money." Brigitte snapped, then winced, clutching her side, as the pain flared up again.

"Brigitte says 'thank you'." Ginger ignored her, taking the money.

"Nnrrrr." Brigitte growled.

Hoskins stepped aside, opening the door. Ginger led her out, into the alley. Brigitte brought them to a stop, turning back to Hoskins, but the older man simply closed the door quietly in their faces.

Brigitte stared at it for a moment, feeling oddly at a loss.

"C'mon, B. We gotta go." Ginger tugged at her waist.

"Yeah." Brigitte replied, quietly, tearing her eyes from the door, as they hurried on.

The sun was rising, when they finally made it to the edge of town. The sirens hadn't died down yet, and a light mist had settled in the woods around town, and on the road leading out. There was an old-looking car half-parked on the pavement, facing out of town.

"Fuck, she's actually there." Ginger hissed. "I owe you five bucks."

"You don't have five bucks." Brigitte groaned, dragging herself along with every step.

"B, can I borrow five bucks?"

Brigitte shot her a dry look. Ginger shrugged, with a slight grin.

Ghost was leaning on the window in the driver's seat. Looked asleep. Ginger brought them to a sudden halt by the door. She had a mischievous look on her face, and grabbed the door.

"Ginger, wai-" Brigitte started.

Ginger hauled the door open and Ghost tumbled out with a yelp.

"Outta the fuckin' way, gremlin." Ginger growled, then turned to Brigitte. "Might be a bit late to ask, B, but can you drive? Because turning into a wolf three nights every month and hiking through the middle of buttfuck nowhere didn't leave me a lot of time to learn."

"I can drive." Brigitte shrugged her sister off, gripping the side of the car for balance. "…mostly."

"Mostly?" Ginger frowned, dubiously as she moved around to the passenger door.

Brigitte stared back.

"Mostly." She nodded.

Mostly. Sort of. She'd worked for a courier for a few months, before she'd had to skip town.

Again.

"Hold on-" Ghost whined, pulling herself to her feet.

"No can do, crazy, we're outta here." Ginger slipped into the car, slamming the door closed.

Brigitte spared the girl a look before struggling awkwardly into the car herself, and shutting the door. She felt her way around, familiarising herself with it as much as she could. It had been a year or so since the last time.

Ghost knocked on the window, looking frantic.

"You can't just leave me here!" Ghost pleaded.

Brigitte stared straight ahead, hands on the wheel. She turned the ignition.

"Watch us, you fuckin' nut." Ginger leaned across, glowering.

"I haven't got anything left, please!" Ginger slapped the window again. "Please, Brigitte!"

"Fuck off!" Ginger yelled back.

Brigitte put her foot on the pedal and slowly pressed down, fighting to ignore the two voices drilling through her skull.

The car moved, jolting slightly as she realised she was in the wrong gear.

"Shit." She hissed, correcting it hurriedly, as they drove on.

In the rearview mirror she could see Ghost, standing in the road, getting smaller.

Ginger sat back, looking pleased with herself. Brigitte glanced over at her, several times, finally catching Ginger's eye.

"I'm not gonna tell you to go back, B." Ginger shook her head, smirking.

Brigitte looked back at the road, frowning.

"I know." She sighed.

She pressed the brakes, threw the car into reverse and pulled back. Ghost stepped hurriedly aside as the car scraped to a shuddering halt beside her. Brigitte gripped the wheel tightly, making up her mind.

"I wouldn't." Ginger shrugged.

"I know." Brigitte replied.

She reached back and threw open the back door, without turning around. Ghost clambered in.

"What do you say?" Ginger turned to look behind them, smiling with a hint of menace.

"Thank you." Ghost said, warily.

Brigitte tapped the accelerator with her foot.

"Give me the money, Ginge."

"Oh c'mon, B." Ginger whined, facing her.

"Just give me the money."

Ginger rolled her eyes and handed it over. Brigitte took the notes and passed it back without looking.

"Next…anywhere we find, we drop you off." Brigitte started the car again, eyes fixed on the road.

"And then what?" Ghost asked, hesitantly.

"We don't care." Ginger sniggered.

Brigitte glanced up at the rearview mirror again, catching Ghost's eye.

"You get on with your life. And you never see us again." Brigitte replied, slowly.

"What if I look for you?" Ghost asked, quickly. "I found you once."

Ginger turned back and snarled.

"Resist that urge." Brigitte caught her eye in the mirror again.

Streaks of red cut through the clouds above, as the sun rose higher behind them, and the sirens faded into the distance.

Brigitte jumped slightly, barely realising she'd been nodding off again, when Ginger placed her hand over hers on the wheel.

"Feel free to warn me if you're gonna doze off at the wheel, B." Ginger smirked, wryly. "I'd like a bit of warning if you're gonna try'n kill me a third time."

"Tired." Brigitte rubbed her eyes with her arm.

"We could stop." Ginger suggested. "Dump her off in the middle of nowhere." She nodded back at Ghost, now asleep in the back.

Brigitte glowered at her.

"Well, I'd find it funny." Ginger grinned. "Are we really going to give her that money?"

"Yeah."

"After everything she's done? She fucking mental, B. She-"

"-has problems. Don't we all?" Brigitte cut her off. Her eyes strayed to the sleeping shape of Ghost in the back. "She's still just a girl." She finished.

Brigitte turned back to the road.

They'd been driving for a few hours, with no direction or goal in mind. Her mind drifted back to the night before.

"I saw mo-" She stopped herself. "Pamela. And Henry, on the news earlier this morning. Talking about us."

"Oh?" Ginger asked, trying not to sound interested.

"They still want us back." Brigitte said, quietly.

"Oh." Ginger replied.

They fell silent.

"Did…you want to go back?" Ginger asked, eventually, looking at her.

Brigitte met her gaze, briefly, before looking back at the road.

"We can't go back."

"I suppose not." Ginger shrugged.

The car fell silent again.

Brigitte glanced across at her sister again. She still had her hand clasped over hers. It was…reassuring, after everything else.

She had no idea what to do next. Time was, she'd just move along, shack up in another little town and scratch out as much of a life as she could, like always, but…but it was getting harder. Ginger had been right about one thing, there had to be something else, beyond this. She couldn't keep doing this forever. Sooner or later she'd make a mistake and something like last night would happen again but there'd be no coming back. No last minute solution. No saving Ginger.

Or herself.

"Something on your mind, B?"

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing." She admitted, realising it was half to herself.

"Don't say that," Ginger chuckled, nervously. ", I'm kinda relying on you."

"I'm serious, we…I can't keep doing this." Brigitte hissed, gripping the wheel tighter, staring ahead. "Sooner or later I'm going to fuck up and I'll wake up one morning with my teeth in someone's fucking throat, sniffing your fucking ass and trying to wag my fucking tail."

"Kinky." Ginger smirked, squeezing her hand, lightly.

Brigitte tried to glare at her, but Ginger pulled a face and she chuckled despite herself.

The next silence was more comfortable.

Brigitte felt Ginger watching her, as they drove. She'd open her mouth once in a while like she wanted to say something, then change her mind.

"Your turn, Ginger." Brigitte said, putting her out of her misery. "Spit it out."

"What about…er…the dreams?" Ginger asked, almost embarrassed. "My dreams."

Brigitte was going to put down her idea about those dreams or visions or…whatever again, if she hadn't had one of her own, barely a day before.

"…our dreams." Brigitte corrected her, in a mumble.

"Sorry?" Ginger blinked.

"Our dreams." Brigitte said, louder. "Ours. I…had one too."

"Then…they are real?" Ginger leaned back in her seat.

"Or we're both just fucking nuts." Brigitte shrugged.

"Did you see them? Us? The other…er…Ginger? And Brigitte?"

"Yeah." Brigitte replied, not quite able to believe it herself, still. "I did."

"I want to find them." Ginger said, watching her carefully.

She looked sharply back at her sister.

"…what?" She scoffed. "There's nothing…I mean…even if they were…real…how fucking long ago was it? Where were they? What happened?"

"I don't know." Ginger shrugged. "But don't you want to find out?"

Brigitte frowned, staring ahead again.

She was curious.

Were they real? The other sisters? Were they their related, somehow? Family, from way, way back? Was it coincidence, Ginger being bitten and Brigitte taking the curse voluntarily, or…something else?

It made her think.

"C'mon B, maybe they knew something about…about all this?" She gestured vaguely. "About the curse, about werewolves, about what we are. Don't you want to know?"

"I want us to be safe." Brigitte replied, carefully. "Away somewhere, together. Is that so much to ask?" She added, as an afterthought.

"…ours was a story of survival; of two sisters bound by blood."

The voice, her voice, echoed in her head.

"A bond that would not be broken. That was our promise above all: above men, above God, above Fate."

She looked across at Ginger. Ginger looked back at her.

""It was in our blood."

Brigitte sighed.

"Okay."

Ginger grinned, squeezing her right hand again.

Brigitte released the wheel with her hand and squeezed it back.

"So, where are we going then?" Brigitte asked.

"Oh fuck knows, I was hoping you'd have some idea." Ginger laughed.

"What?" Brigitte glared sharply at Ginger.

"You're the bookworm, B." Ginger shrugged. "I thought you might be able to…work it out or something, if I told you about the stuff I saw."

"…great." Brigitte grumbled.

"Well, how hard could it be?" Ginger went on. "A fort, some werewolves…"

"I don't think it turned up in any fucking history books in our school, Ginge."

"Well, you'll find it somewhere, right?" Ginger persevered. "Someone always write this shit down somewhere? Isn't that how history works?"

"Fucking hell." Brigitte growled, eyes fixed again on the road.

Ginger sniggered to herself, at her reaction. She started toying with the radio.

"It's Christmas time, there's no need to be a-"

"0h fuck that." Brigitte scowled, switching it off.

Ginger pretended to gasp, looking mock-shocked.

"Scrooge McFitzgerald." She smirked. "It's very nearly-"

"Don't you dare." Brigitte shot her a dark look.

Ginger kept grinning, but didn't say anything. Brigitte hoped that was the end of it.

She was mildly surprised when Ginger leaned over, trailing her lips up from her neck to her cheek in a series of half-kisses, nuzzling her.

"Merry Christmas." Ginger said in a mocking, hushed voice.

Brigitte groaned, but leaned into her sister, relishing the contact.

"Love you Brigitte." Ginger whispered, into her ear.

Brigitte didn't say anything at first, only enjoying her sister's touch.

"Together forever." Multiple voices reverberated the phrase in her head, like a memory, and a dream rolled together. Her voice, and Ginger's, across the years.

"Together forever." Brigitte echoed.


...aaaaaand fade to black, roll credits, Ginger Snaps theme plays...

And there we have it. A big thanks to all those reading, I hope you enjoyed my fumbling attempts at something like a sequel/conclusion. I thought a lot about how to end it, but I felt this was the best way. Brigitte and Ginger stuck together, bloodshed and madness in their wake, and chasing the prospect of ghost stories and answers way, waaaaay back in their past.

Maybe one day I'll work on a follow-up. I left enough of a path to take I think, with the connections to Ginger Snaps Back, but for now, the Fitzgeralds probably deserve a break. Merry Christmas, folks.