Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Elle, please to hear you enjoyed it!

Edgar had thought it was best for Alan to fake sickness instead of going to school the next day. His parents, Aunt Pam, and Uncle Gerry would all be working. That meant Alan would be by himself, isolated and away from the temptation of blood. Only Edgar saw the relief in that idea. Alan, at first, had thought it was insulting that Edgar was locking him away, as if he wouldn't be able to control this new nature that was slowly trying to poison everything human about him. He felt like a caged animal, too wild and out of control to be trusted into society. But then he heard that familiar drum beat of his brother's pulse, saw a long blue vein on his neck, and his throat burned. His teeth ached.

Maybe Edgar's right, he thought. Probably best to stay here.

Before Edgar had left for school, he came up to check on his brother. He found Alan sitting up on his bed, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. He was still dressed in his wrinkled pajama bottoms and a baggy black t-shirt that made his paler skin more noticeable.

"I need to go to school. Everyone else has already left. Are you going to be okay?" Edgar asked.

Alan nodded but didn't say a word. Edgar glanced around Alan's room, noticing the curtains were drawn, blocking any sunlight and the cross he usually kept above his bed for protection had gone.

"Stay here," he said and closed the door. Alan heard his brother's footsteps down the stairs, greeting Sam who he could clearly hear was asking about him and then there was the slamming of the front door.

Silence.

Alan let his shoulders slump and he stretched his legs out across his bed. A long sigh escaped his lips now that he was free of hearing heart beats and smelling blood, even if it was only for a while. However, there was still that dull ache in his teeth, where his canines and incisors were and he dashed to the bathroom, hand clutched to his mouth.

He shuddered at the sight of that ghostly reflection. His mirror-self stared back glumly, lips turned downwards into a frown. The cut on his forehead had disappeared completely. There wasn't even a lump and his cheek wasn't swollen either. Everything had healed.

He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he was pleased with the non-existent injuries.

Don't think like that, he thought. Don't, at any time, think there are advantages to this.

When he used his finger to pull back his top lip, he saw his teeth were still normal. But the ache was still there, a shooting pain from him gums straight up his cheeks and towards his ears. He poked at his teeth with his tongue, starting to get curious, but nothing happened. They didn't lengthen. He kept poking and prodding until he finally gave up… and had to clutch onto the sink when a twisting stab of pain swept through his stomach.

He winced, groaning out loud, and he felt two stings inside his mouth, right on his bottom lip. While a part of him pleaded with himself not to look up, there was another part that couldn't help but give into that curiosity. He wanted to see. Maybe it would be so horrifying he would stay motivated to resist turning completely.

The rest of his face hadn't changed. There were no sharp angles, no deformed forehead that drooped towards his nose like he had seen on all vampires. But his eyes were not his usual brown. They were the same as any other vampire he had seen. Yellow with blood red rims. He shuddered at the sight. They automatically looked evil. Even with his own facial expressions twisted in horror and repulsion he still looked like he was about to take a bite out of someone.

The fangs also didn't help him look innocent.

His teeth had finally sharpened. The aching had gone. The incisors had lengthened to delicate needle like points with the canines shorter.

All he could manage was a feeble moan as he ducked his head, knuckles white as they gripped onto the sides of the bathroom sink. The change was already torture. Mostly with the way everyone had been acting around him and looking at him. The experience of letting himself get turned was humiliating and bad enough but what felt worse was how wary everyone had begun to act around him. Edgar had been silent the way back to their house last night as Sam drove. He kept turning around to look at Alan in the back, probably to check that he hadn't decided to feed on Bonnie who had sat next to him. Alan couldn't help sense that Edgar was actually judging him. There was something in his stare. Like a disappointed parent. Sam kept asking if Alan was alright. Over and over again. After the fourth time Alan got the impression that his friend really had no clue what to say to him. He also noticed how much Sam flinched every time he fidgeted or moved in the back. Bonnie was probably the only one who was still treating him relatively normal. Now and again, she had moved her hand across to pat his, silently reassuring him all the way home. She smiled at him, tried to talk to him and while he felt bad that most of his answers and replies were grunts, he really didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Bernice had been keeping her distance. Like Sam, she seemed to want to talk to him but she never did, always stopping as soon as she opened her mouth. Probably because she also couldn't find the right words or know what to ask him. She had muttered a quick goodbye when they all separated into the two cars and tried to smile at Alan but it had turned into a grimace. Bridget's reaction was the one that really got to him. She had become his closest friend, closer than anyone else, and he was used to her always being around him, laughing and joking as they took on the confusing world of high school and being a teenager together. He didn't realize how used he was to having her by his side until last night when she wouldn't even look at him. If there was anyone he wanted to talk to, he would have chosen Bridget but he had not even been able to make eye contact with her last night. She had trudged off with Bernice back to their house, barely muttering a goodbye to Alan. Not even a hug.

It stung. It really did. It was almost a shock to him how much he felt upset by it.

When he glanced back at his reflection again, he was normal again. Normal, human teeth. Normal, brown eyes.

But for how long?

"So we have a half-vampire that could flip out at any minute and a grounded vampire hunter," Edgar said to his friends and sighed.

They had all gathered in a spare classroom, keeping away from the door so a teacher wouldn't walk by and throw them all out. The group was small now, only consisting of Bernice, Bonnie, Edgar, and Sam. Alan had been left at home for obvious reasons and Edgar planned to keep it like that if they could fake sickness for long. Bridget, however, had been suspended for behaviour and ditching school. It was an extreme measure but her school record had not been in her favour despite her high grades. The principle had asked for her parents to attend a meeting that morning and suspended her for two days even though a case had been made that she was upset over the disappearance of Charlotte. All the principle really offered were compulsory sessions with the Guidance Counsellor every Friday. She was still suspended.

While the Santa Carla police department were known for their lax attitude, Montessari High School was unfortunately known for running a tight ship on their students.

"I don't think Bridget would manage to sneak out. Honestly, with the way Mom and Dad flipped out on her last night, I don't think she'd actually dare to sneak out," Bernice said.

"That bad, huh?" Bonnie asked, cringing for her friend.

"Trust me, they don't take any bullshit."

"How long is she grounded for?" Edgar asked.

"As long as her suspension. She's only allowed out for work and Mom said she'll take her there and pick her up. They're definitely keeping a close eye on her."

Edgar groaned. "Great. We need as many of us out there as possible. Someone out there is planning something for us and we need a full team."

"Wouldn't it best to take Alan with us?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we could keep an eye on him. He needs us," Bonnie said.

Edgar shook his head. "I dunno. I don't want to be keeping an eye out for vampires and watching him at the same time."

Bonnie put her hands on her hips. "And he'll be safer near your parents who constantly wind him up?" She scowled, her round face scrunched up as her eyes narrowed. "Why do I get the feeling you want him out of the way because you can't freaking deal?"

"Hey, I'm dealing! I'm trying to figure out how we're going to find this pack properly and figure out who the Head Vampire is. If it's anything like the last pack, the Head is not going to be with them," Edgar argued.

Truth was, he couldn't deal. He averted his eyes straight after arguing with Bonnie, sensing her gaze still on him. It had been easier dealing with Bonnie and Michael when they had been turned half. Michael was a complete stranger who Edgar knew he would be fine staking if the worst case scenario happened. Even though Bonnie was a friend, she had done a risky thing by willingly turning half to keep Max's pack from killing her. If she had ended up going all the way, Edgar had been ready to step in and do his duty.

But this was Alan. His brother. When he saw how his brother's skin burned at the touch of Holy water his whole world had flipped upside down and it felt like someone had ripped through his heart. Without really knowing where Charlotte was and who this other vampire had been, Edgar had felt the panic teem up inside of him. Where on earth were they supposed to start? And if he had no clue where to start or who this pack could be, how was he supposed to help his brother and stop him from turning? The vampire blood kicked in fast. The more days Alan had as a half vampire, the more he would lose his humanity.

"All the more reason to keep Alan with us," Bonnie said. "If they want him, they'll be searching for him."

"I think she's right, Edgar," Sam said quietly. "We need to keep Alan with us. Maybe it'll draw them out."

"Fine," Edgar muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers and was relieved when the bell rang, loud and shrill in their ears. They broke away, heading out of the classroom. But when they came to separate for classes, Sam followed Edgar.

"Don't you have class?" Edgar asked.

"Study period. Bud, wait up a sec."

He touched Edgar's shoulder, halting him in the hallway and waited until the Frog brother turned around to face him.

"Look, I know what it's like," Sam said. "About having your brother turned. I wanted to save Michael but at the same time I was shit scared of him. And at one point there was a part of me that thought he wasn't going to actually do anything about it. I didn't know what I was going to do. I hated it when you and Alan kept telling me Michael would have to die but when he wasn't getting anywhere I was terrified that you might end up being right."

"You're not making me feel any better, man," Edgar mumbled.

"Sorry. Look, my point is that it's okay if you're scared of him right now. But he's your brother and you need to make him feel like he still is. Michael changed after being turned. He was growing distant with us all. Don't let Alan get like that. It'll help push him away more. He's counting on you."

Before Edgar could answer, Sam gave a brief nod and patted his friend's shoulder. He disappeared into the crowd, remarkably blending in even with that horrible bright green shirt he had chosen to wear.

Bridget sat in her room, cross legged on her bed as she looked down at a photo in her hands. It was a nice photo of her and Alan, even though he had been forced into having it taken. Bonnie had insisted on a Christmas party at hers where they exchanged presents and the girls had attempted to cook a lasagna for the boys. At the party, Alan and Bridget were stood near the tree, a perfect photo opportunity in Bonnie's mind. They had stood shoulder to shoulder, Bridget slightly learning into Alan and both had their arms folded. The only smile Alan had managed to make was a small, slightly proud smile with his head titled back a bit. Bridget could never take a photo seriously for long and despite having a bright smile on her face at first, Bonnie had simply taken too long and by the time she pressed the button, Bridget had decided to pose as if she was incredibly baffled. The corner of her lips tugged up and her eyes widened, making her eyebrows look more arched.

She kept her gaze on Alan, thinking back to last night. Her stomach sank as she remembered how she acted. He was supposed to be her best friend and all she could do was avoid his eyes. Not even a hug when they all parted ways for home and she had seen the hurt etched on his face when she had glanced back.

Of course she wanted to hug him. She wanted to be by his side all night, telling him that everything was going to be fine. That those bastard vampires weren't going to have him because he belonged with them.

But those words couldn't be forced from her lips. He was a half vampire and that's all she could think about. All she could see were fangs and glowing yellow eyes.

"Knock, knock," Bernice said, peering into Bridget's room. With a jolt, Bridget's hands flew behind her back, hiding the photo but Bernice nodded towards her sister. "What you looking at?"

She came to sit down on Bridget's bed, pushing aside her sister's guitar and textbooks from school. Biting her lip, Bridget didn't answer at first but soon slowly brought her hands back and held up the photo.

"Are you okay?" Bernice asked, her features softening into a look of sympathy.

"I was a bitch last night," Bridget said and rested her back against her headboard. "I couldn't even look at him."

"Yesterday was weird. Horrible and weird," Bernice said and frowned. "It's been a while since one of our friends was turned."

"I didn't know what to say or do," Bridget muttered, glancing down at the photo again. All it was doing was reminding her that Alan wasn't human anymore. He was halfway to being one of them and it made her hands shake as she held the photo.

"What's really upsetting you?" Bernice asked, reaching over to take her sister's hand. "When Bonnie had been turned you were ready to fight. I've never seen you look so miserable."

"We had leads," Bridget answered. "We knew who the vampires were and had plans to sort it out. What if we can't do that this time? What if…?" She stopped, the words unable to form and she looked away, lips pressing together and eyes suddenly looking watery.

"Sweetie, we're not going to lose him," Bernice said and moved so she was sitting right next to Bridget. She lifted her arm up to wrap it around her younger sister's shoulders and pulled her closer.

"Sorry," Bridget muttered, rubbing at her eyes and smudging her eyeliner in the process. "We're going to fight. And we're going to win." She gave a sharp nod but stayed huddled near her sister. She may have been using fighting talk but the frown stayed on her lips, her tone of voice not sounding as determined as it usually did when she was proclaiming their impending success. Bridget noticed her own lack of optimism and she sighed.

"She's still obsessed with Alan," she said.

"She? Oh. Charlotte."

Bridget nodded. "She wants him. And she probably thinks she's hurting me in the process. Like we're in competition and she's stealing him away from me."

"Charlotte is a psychotic bitch. She's not taking him away from you," Bernice said and squeezed her sister's shoulder. "You two are like this." She held up her hands, crossing her fingers and flashed a bright smile.

"That nut job is an idiot if she thinks she could break you two up," she teased and nudged Bridget who suddenly scowled.

"We're not boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Well, you weren't dancing like friends last Friday."

She laughed when she saw her sister's cheeks reddened and tried to make an excuse but her words were mumbled. She wasn't sure they were even words coming from Bridget's mouth. She cleared her throat, as if that would stop the redness in her cheeks and she tossed the photo further onto the bed before learning away from her older sister and folded her arms.

"Don't you have homework to do?" she asked Bernice who laughed again but got off the bed and started heading to the door. Thankfully, she didn't say anything else on the matter, leaving Bridget to sit there pouting and trying to stop her face from resembling a tomato. But now that Bernice had mentioned the dance, it was all that Bridget could think of. Over and over again in her head. It had been such a brief but very strange moment where it really didn't feel like friendship anymore. There had been something comforting about having his arms around her waist like that.

With a sigh, Bridget reached over for the photo again, taking another quick look before putting it back in the drawer on her bedside table. Despite that brief talk with Bernice, being comforted back into optimism, it was all fading away again.

Her stomach flipped at the thought of Alan turning.

Feel free to review and thanks for reading! Chapter 12 will be posted next Saturday.