Evie ran to rendezvous with the train as quickly as she could, the words from Charles' report racing across her mind all the while – deafening her to sound of all else as she went. She needed to know what happened last night; everything that happened last night. She hoped it was not too late. The knot in her belly told her that it likely was. But she could hope. It was all she had left, right now.

The sun hung low in the sky.

She tore her way up a nearby building like a madwoman and no sooner was she atop its roof, she was pitching herself over its edge – papers crushed beneath her armpit as she dove for the roof of the train. She hit her target with a little less grace than she would normally be pleased with, but didn't give herself more than a mere second to dwell on it before racing for Jacob's car.

Air burned in her lungs, hot and angry, as she deftly dropped between the slot that connected her car to Jacob's. A quick look inside her own car confirmed that Henry was still around, just as promised. He had his back to her and was no doubt scouring the documents she herself had been looking at this morning before Jacob had arrived and thrown their lives into disarray once again.

She paused in the alcove that connected the two cars, momentarily conflicted on whether or not she should alert Henry to her presence. Would he understand? If it turned out there was no cure for Jacob, what would he do? He already knew about the situation, so they wouldn't be able to keep it a secret from him. He'd inquire sooner or later as to the nature of Evie's findings.

Evie trusted Henry with her life, because Henry was a good man. For that same reason, she could not trust him now.

She slipped into Jacob's car quickly and was immediately embraced by darkness. She pressed her back against the door and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the guilty knot building in her stomach at having decided not to trust the man she had come to consider a friend. More, she might dare say – despite how it made her frown. Relationships were a weakness.

Jacob, case in point.

She brushed back a stray hair and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness before finally registering that beneath the tinny roar of the train, there was another sound emitting through the car. Panting, ragged and panicked. Whimpering. Scratching.

Her eyes adjusted. She found Jacob on his knees, bent over the carpet, licking desperately at a dark stain on the floor that had long since dried.

"J-Jacob?"

Jacob jerked to look at her, his eyes wide and reflective like an animal in the darkness. Fear slid down her bones, familiar but unexpected. Fear, she had felt before – but not like this. Not from her brother.

Jacob blinked several times, as though disoriented, then burst into life. He lurched back onto his butt ungracefully and quickly scrambled away, all long legs and pale arms, until he found himself pressed into a corner. Still, his eyes flickered at her in the darkness. Every now and then, she almost thought them red.

"E-Evie," he whimpered, as thought caught in some horrendous deed. "I didn't. He offered, but I threw it." His eyes darted to an empty, dented flask the lay near the dirty stain, then back to her. She realized the room smelled of copper. "I didn't drink it… but I… it hurts, Ev. I'm so thirsty."

His throat clicked audibly when he swallowed, dry as bone. Dry as the stain he'd been licking.

"It's okay, Jacob," she said as soothingly as she could muster, trying to make sense of his words. Trying to flatiron out the tremble she found hanging between them. "I know you're strong. I know you didn't do it."

That seemed to give him a little courage, but he didn't remove himself from his corner. His eyes darted to find Henry, then landed back on her. His skin paled, if possible.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

"You'd never hurt me," she vowed, but even as she said it, she thought of all the venomous words they had both exchanged up until this moment. They hurt each other every day. No doubt Jacob was thinking it too.

Jacob swallowed again, the click sending her heart into a pause.

She thought he'd agree with her, even if just to encourage them both.

"I can't do this," is what he said instead. It sounded like goodbye.

Evie's eyes burned.

"Jacob," she said, rushing forward. His muscles twinged visibly beneath his worrisomely thinning skin, but she walked nearer to him anyway. She stopped at the desk, still giving him his space, as she lit the candle that had long since died out and began to splay out the files that Charles had given her. She forced confidence into her every move, her every breath, because between them they couldn't afford another moment of hesitation. And if she had to be strong for them both, she would be. She had to be.

And this – reports, research, information – this is what she was good at.

"Mr. Dickens had some information. But I need to know what happened last night if it is to be any use to us," she said, and when Jacob only stared at her as if she had asked him to pull his own nails from their beds, she pressed on. "There might be a cure for this, Jacob. Please. Let me help you."

When silence hung between them, her confidence waivered. She felt suddenly small, like she had when they were young and Jacob had been down with a terrible fever for the better part of three days.

"We used to tell each other everything," she said, pleading. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes, though, lest he see how terrified she was or the tears that threatened to spill. How had they come to this? Her fingers curled uselessly on the desk, taking Charles' work with it. She turned her face further from Jacob and bit her lip. Slowly, the candle began to wane. She waited. She prayed.

Had Jacob given up...?

"He bit me," Jacob said, startling her. Her gaze darted to his. "And I fell from the rafter we were on. The Alhambra was on fire and I fell right onto its bloody fucking bones. I was…" He shuddered, and every word he said felt like another nail pounded into the coffin of their hope. "I should have died. Roth forced his own blood down my throat, and when I woke, I was in his bed – nearly healed. He took me to a room and he… He made me…"

Jacob's breathing began to increase, a whisper of hyperventilation building in every wheeze.

"There was a girl, Evie, and I killed her."

The trembling, panicked words, 'I couldn't help it' hung between them, heavy and unsaid. Evie turned back to Charles' papers and heard rather than felt the tear that fell from her nose. It spoiled the ink on the page. It didn't matter. It could not help them.

"It's too late, isn't it?" Jacob whispered. Evie couldn't help but feel as though fate were being cruel. Had Mr. Dickens told she and Jacob about something as silly as Vampires when they had first started their journey, she would have laughed. Even she, as open-minded as she was about the supernatural, would have laughed. She would have joked that Jacob would have loved to become a Vampire. Beautiful and supernaturally strong forever? He would have been thrilled.

But they wouldn't have known about the pain, she thought, watching her brother shake so hard he couldn't have held a glass of water if he wanted to; even if he could drink it. They couldn't have known about the cost.

The Jacob she knew before this morning would have gloated. The Jacob she knew now broke her heart. How desperately she wanted to fix him.

She cleared her throat.

"No," she said. "Mr. Dickens said he has contacts he can reach out to. It'll take time to hear from them, but surely one of them has a solution. A cure must exist."

"Roth said it was too late."

She spun to look at him.

"Roth? He was here?!"

"He brought the flask, Evie. I didn't take it," he said, and then suddenly his eyes were back on the spot he had been licking – flat and faraway. "I didn't take it."

He wished he had, though, and that made Evie's stomach seize. He was starving. How long could he last like this? They'd need time to research his condition. A lot of time. How long before he starved to death? She couldn't watch him waste away. Her eyes fell to one of the pages splayed across the table. An account from one researcher who theorized that Vampires must be able to control themselves in their taking, lest there would be far more bodies than accredited for today. That perhaps if the fangs are not involved, the possibility of death was lessened. That if the victim was in fact willing, perhaps they would be aware enough to assist their partner with controlling their thirst. Doubt whispered that these reports were as flimsy as they were sparse. Dickens had not found much on these creatures. There was a reason why he had never shared the reports until now…

Haste was not unusual to the Frye line, but it was to Evie Frye. She prided herself in being practical and logical where her brother was not. She took her time in crafting her decisions, in building her plans. Meticulous and steady, that was what she was known for.

But she couldn't bear another moment of Jacob's lost, dead eyes. The hidden blade at her side slid free in a whisper that might as well have been a familiar song to them. It brought her strength. But it only inspired dread in her brother. He jerked free of his thoughts with a look so panicked, so struck, that one might have thought she'd shot him. She held her bare hand out to him like one might sooth a startled animal and spoke softly as she hushed him.

"It's okay. It's okay, Jacob. I'm just going to make a tiny knick, and when you've slaked the worst of your thirst, we can stop–"

"No!" The word came from deep in Jacob's chest, rumbling and raw and terrified.

Evie continued even as Jacob scurried up the wall into a standing position. The looseness of his clothing urged her onward even as he held out his hands to stop her and begged.

"Evie, please don't do this! I'll hurt you. You don't understand what it's like," his voice cracked. "I don't want it! I can't!"

"I won't let you starve, Jacob," she said, shaking her head – her throat tight from seeing her brother this way. Tight from fear. She brought the edge of the blade toward her palm. "I trust you, Jacob. And I have my blade, if I need it."

"Henry," Jacob muttered, as though freshly remembering something, then - "Henry!"

He rushed past Evie and jerked open the door. Wind howled into the train car as pale fingers of dusk peeked in. Evie caught Jacob by the elbow before he could walk into the light and yanked him back inside. He felt so thin beneath her fingers. So frail. God, and it had only been a day. Surely this sort of deterioration wasn't normal, even for the supernatural.

"Jacob, don't!" She shouted. "You'll burn yourself again!"

He pushed her away and tore off for the door again. She regained her footing and raced after him just as Jacob slipped into the evening air and disappeared up the ladder, but not before he banged loudly on Henry's door along the way.

"Jacob!" Evie shouted again.

The door to her own car opened just as she herself began to ascend the ladder to the roof.

"What's going on?" Henry asked, but Evie didn't bother to pause. She had to get to Jacob. She had to bring him back inside before he hurt himself further. She pulled herself atop the train car just in time to see Jacob whirling in place at its center, desperate to escape and with nowhere to go. She looked around and realized that they were just beginning to cross one of the longer bridges spanning the River Thames. Nowhere to go but down. He took one last look around, then spun to face his sister – eyes wide like a deer's.

"Evie, please," he begged again, but he was weak. Weak from pain, from hunger. His pleading broke her heart. The shadows in his cheeks even more so.

Henry climbed up beside her.

"Henry!" Jacob shouted, relieved. "Make her see some bloody reason!"

"What's going on?" Henry asked, his hand near his blade at his side. Jacob stilled when he saw that. "What's wrong?"

"He needs to drink, Henry," Evie said, committed despite her brother's protests. "He's going to die if he doesn't. We just need time, and-"

"Evie," Henry started, his eyes on her, surprised. "You can't possibly be suggesting that he drink from you."

"Just a little," she said, defensive. Her cheeks felt hot. She spun to look at Jacob, reassured of her decision as she caught the small peels of smoke slowly blooming at her brother's shoulders. Dusk was kinder than dawn had been, but it hurt him all the same. The sun began to set in the distance. The train roared on. She took another step closer, knowing Jacob's opportunity to escape would soon be upon them. The end of the bridge was coming.

"I can't control it, Evie," Jacob pleaded.

"We'll help you! We'll make sure you stop!" She promised him, but Jacob just kept shaking his head – terrified. Evie felt a sting of guilt, but she couldn't lose him. Not when there were people they could talk with. Not when there was a chance they could still fix this. Jacob was being rash again, ruled by his emotions. Death was not the only solution. His way was not the only way. "I'm sorry, Jacob, but it's for your own good."

"Would you listen to me for once?" Jacob pleaded. "I can't control it!"

"Evie!" Henry shouted and lunged for her.

She cut her palm before either of them could stop her. The change was instant. Blood, her blood, bloomed between them – scarlet and inviting. Copper stained the air. Her brother's pupils dilated until no brown remained. Where weakness and guilt and worry had made him small, hunger made him fearsome, filling his deflated body until he towered over them both. His eyes glowed red in the dying light. Her heart stuttered.

Jacob lunged for her and despite the distance between them he was on her faster than she could blink. His grip was suddenly strong like iron, and she hadn't once considered the fact that his fragility and his weakness until this moment might not have been because he had no strength left to give but because he was afraid to use it. Her wrist was already beginning to bruise where he held it. His words echoed.

I can't control it!

He brought her palm to his mouth – blunt teeth firm but not pressing against her skin – latched on and sucked. Her eyes rolled.

"Evie!"

All at once, she was overwhelmed with a feeling not unlike pleasure. It rolled through her like a wave and blanketed her mind with a soft cloud of static that made it hard to think. This was nice. This was good. She lolled into the grip that held her even as hands suddenly appeared at her shoulders and pried her free. There was a shout, followed by a rumbling growl, and she blinked.

The pleasure faded, and it took a moment to realize how cold she was, how tired. Her fingers trembled where they lay in her lap, and she felt small in Henry's grasp. He knelt beside her, one arm splayed around Evie's shoulders – the other armed with his kukri. Blood oozed sluggishly from the suck-swollen wound at her palm, and it ached and pulsed in memory of what happened. She blinked owlishly, then slowly looked across the train car's roof. There was a gibbering, niggling worry at the back of her mind, but she couldn't think of what it was.

She remembered when she saw Jacob.

He was Jacob again, her Jacob, that much was obvious. He was Jacob, and he was terrified, and he looked horrified. He held his hands out to them, and he was trembling. His hair was a wild, twisting mane about his stricken face – but already he had some color back. She wanted to feel good about that. She wanted to feel as though she had been in the right.

But she couldn't get past the pure pain, the obvious self-loathing that was painted so clearly on her brother's face. His mouth was smeared red. His teeth were pink.

"Jacob," she pleaded. "It's okay. I'm okay. I told you it'd be okay. See? You stopped. I knew you could do it."

But Henry said nothing to back her up. She looked over at him to see the steely gaze he had on Jacob. Like a man staring down a wolf. She pulled away from him and grabbed his wrist, forcing the blade down.

"He's fine," she urged. "It's alright now."

"Evie, he almost—" Henry said, then, "Jacob!"

Evie turned in time to see her brother take one last step away from them in his terror, unaware of how close he was to the edge. His foot pitched back over the side of the train and Jacob caught her eye for a brief second – so painfully young – before he fell from the car. Fast as they were moving, their angle had shifted far enough during the moments of his fall that she could see his body hit the large stone railing of the bridge below them, a good few feet below them, then roll over the bridge's edge only to disappear into the roaring murk of the River Thames.

The sun winked beneath the horizon and disappeared.

"Jacob?" She whispered numbly.

She sprung to her feet, swaying only for a moment, then ran to the edge of the car. She couldn't spot him in the water. A boat chugged over the water where he surely fell, and then the train passed from the bridge altogether.

She screamed out to him as though he might hear it.

He didn't.

[a/n] Thank you guys for all your continued support and patience while I was away! I'm back and here's a new chapter, as promised! :D

Updates to "Wild Youth" to come!