Among the Deepening Shades: Chapter Two

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Two

George had been extremely frustrated all day long. The night before a full moon was always like that to some extent. It worried him because he kept remembering Tully’s words about how powerful he felt right before the moon. George did feel powerful. He felt strong and he felt confident. So naturally he also felt extremely anxious and nervous and self-conscious about those things, effectively ruining any gain he could have received from it. As usual he was his own worst enemy.

Then, to make matters worse, Mitchell had decided this was a great night to test death and journey to the other side and probably make everything worse. Deep down George wanted Annie back as much as Mitchell did but he had a much healthier fear of consequences than Mitchell.

There was a little voice inside of George that said if only nobody else put themselves in danger, if only they kept their heads down, if only now was the time when he finally didn’t have to run anymore. If…then, that’s what his life boiled down to now.

George knew that Nina approved of Mitchell going not just because she wanted Annie back, but also because she wanted Mitchell gone. If he was just not in their lives anymore, stuck on some other side of the door, then she wouldn’t have to struggle with reconciling her relationship with him to the atrocities he’d committed. George could understand that. After all, sometimes he could barely stand to look at Mitchell. More often that guilt was redirected at himself for always feeling a stab of relief when he did look at Mitchell, because Annie might be gone, but George had gotten Mitchell back.

There were just too many emotions, too many things to feel, and they all contradicted themselves. Everything was heightened by the full moon’s proximity. He felt like he could jump out of his skin.

He sat with Mitchell by a deathbed and he alternated between being angry with Mitchell and wanting to prolong his departure for as long as possible.

The moment Mitchell actually left was the worst.

“None of this was your fault. Everything that happened would have happened a lot sooner and a lot worse if I hadn’t have met you.”

Mitchell’s departing words broke George and he could forgive him anything in that instant if only to have him back.

“Just…just come back,” was all he could say.

He stayed in Sean’s room for a long time, crying, trying to reconcile his feelings. It didn’t work, he just felt torn. But gradually, like the calm before a storm, he felt himself coming back together, realizing that no matter what he wanted or didn’t want, he would be changing in just a few hours and he had to prepare for that. He notified the doctors of Sean’s time of death and then went to find Nina.

He found her and she took one look at his red face and hugged him gently.

“I just don’t know what's going to happen,” he said.

“We’ll get through it, whatever it is,” she said. “You’ve still got me.”

“I am so thankful for you,” he said, bending to kiss her. “Now shall we go become hideous beasts?”

“You have the most romantic ideas,” she answered, and they quickly left the hospital and made their way home.

George gathered the bag he’d packed that morning and lingered at the door. They had decided that Nina should be the one to use the basement and so that meant he was forced to the woods. In the future they hoped to convert the attic into a giant cage, better suited to letting the wolf rage, but still keeping it as contained as the one George had in his room in the house in Bristol.

But for now he had to trust to mother nature and he winced at his own Tully reference. It always seemed to happen close to the moon coming. Sometimes he thought about how Tully must have died, alone in that chamber, but he tried not to. He alternated between feeling sorry for the man, and still being angry at what Tully had done.

Nevertheless, George regretted not plotting the woods out carefully enough before now. He should have known better, especially in Wales. But he’d only just started dragging his chicken on a string when the sound of sirens filled the air and he was suddenly surrounded by the police and arrested for dogging along with some other people just over the ridge.

The irony and the injustice of it was swamped by the overwhelming terror at knowing unless someone listened to him, he was going to kill someone and expose the world of the supernatural.

“You have to listen to me,” he shrieked, his voice reaching decibels he hadn’t thought possible before. “I have a serious medical condition, a medical condition! You have to let me out. Please, just let me phone someone, I’ll prove it to you, please.”

No one listened to him all the way back to the precinct and he was stuck inside a cell with someone else arrested for dogging. They let him have one phone call and, of course, he called Nina, but she must have already locked herself in the basement because she didn’t answer, and he didn’t have anyone else he could call, even if they would let him. He left a frantic message and then tried not to panic.

But there was no use. He looked into the face of the man he was going to kill and nearly bent double in pain as he felt the change come.

Dimly through the pain he heard Nina’s voice shouting.

"That man has serious mental problems, he's…basically nuts. And it's contagious!"

Her own voice sounded high pitched and frantic and he could only imagine what effort it must be costing her to sound even halfway normal.

"Maybe we should sort of let this lady have him,” said a man.

“Yeah, I think that would be a good idea," Nina snapped.

“Time to go,” George heard another voice say.

George felt arms lifting him and he staggered away from murder to find Nina practically vibrating with tension as she scooped his belongings into his bag and then leaned in too close to a policeman’s face.

“You have not heard the last of this,” she promised before they bolted out of the police station and tried to find somewhere, anywhere, to be safe.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” George found himself repeating over and over as they ran.

"I only got your message because I went upstairs to use the toilet," Nina panted.

They passed a church, an entrance to some sort of underground tomb and George vaulted over the gate, catching Nina when she followed him.

It wasn’t suitable, not at all, but at least there appeared to be some kind of cell.

"Inside there," he said. “You can transform in here.”

“What will you do?” Nina said.

“I don't know but we can't be together. We'll kill each other.”

“We don't have a choice,” said Nina.

George hesitated for a moment before finally joining her and slamming the gate closed.

He pulled his shirt off.

“I'm so sorry for all this.”

“I know,” Nina said, stripping as well. George panted with the effort of remaining upright. “I love you,” she said desperately, making it sound like goodbye.

He stopped, forcing himself to be and sound normal.

“I love you too,” he said firmly.

He kissed her. There wasn’t anything else to do but wait amidst the agonizing pain.

Perhaps Mitchell would get Annie back and it wouldn’t matter because George and Nina would be dead. Maybe Mitchell would come back all alone and then go off on a killing spree after he found out what had happened. Maybe George would kill Nina and wake up having to live with what he did.

He almost welcomed the physical pain and the mind numbing blackness.

There were the hazy thoughts he always had, some kind of anger, some kind of release and power, but this time, coupled with pleasure and possession, clearer than ever before.

His instincts were in charge and he didn’t remember anything until he blinked his eyes in the morning light, water dripping in his face. He lay for a moment, paralyzed with fear and confusion until he heard a voice.

“Loving that ass.” He sprang around and there was Nina, all dressed, leaning against the wall. “Hey, it's all right,” she said.

“We made it,” he said in exultation, running to her and hugging her.

“Yeah. It's okay, baby, we're okay,” she said reassuringly.

George felt happier than he had felt in months. There was always such a joy in knowing that for once something hadn’t gone wrong.

He turned to get dressed and then…stopped. There was something new, something he usually only…

“When we transformed, did we…?” he asked slowly, looking down and then looking at her.

She screwed her face up in thought and then her eyes widened. He smiled.

“Oh,” she said. He turned around again and grinned while getting dressed. “Nice,” she said behind him.

After examining the gate before they left George came to the conclusion that if their wolf selves hadn’t decided on a night long shag they would have had no problem in getting out and probably doing a lot of damage. Somehow they’d been saved.

George’s good mood lasted until they got home and Mitchell wasn’t there.

Nina watched his face fall and put her arm around him.

“I’m sure it takes time to do what he has to do,” she said. “We shouldn’t give up hope yet.”

“Do you really want him back?” George asked.

Nina didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“I want the old Mitchell back,” she said, “and I want you to be happy.”

George shuddered and then slung his bag onto the floor.

“You go ahead and shower,” he said. “I’ll go next.”

Nina kissed him again.

“We’re alive. Focus on that.”

“I do,” he said, but he heard her leave and put his head in his hands.

***

Mitchell stood in the train.

The aisle was narrow, the lights were flickering, and the smell of blood was in the air. Slowly he understood and closed his eyes against the memory, but there was nothing to block it out now that he was standing there. The bodies sat slumped in their seats where he had left them. The scene was vivid now, not bathed in the afterglow of a rush of blood.

He slowly walked down the aisle, the bodies – the people - getting up and walking behind him. They didn’t say a word, but he could feel the stares.

He felt cold, much more cold than normal, and he stopped at seat H-12.

Lia sat there, blood on her neck, puncture wounds evident. Mitchell said nothing, simply sat down in the seat across from her and waited.

"I've got to say I was kind of hurt that you didn't recognize me. Given that you remembered so much about the other two.” Lia paused. “Guess you were a bit preoccupied that night."

That was evidently his cue to speak but there was only one thing he could say and he had neither the right nor the ability to say it, but he tried anyway, the words catching in his throat.

"I'm sorry."

Lia leaned forward, her face no longer in the least flirtatious or kind.

"What was that, I didn't catch it!"

"I'm sorry," he forced himself to say more clearly.

"Oh, you're sorry,” she said, her contempt palpable in her tone.

Mitchell was often confronted by the memory of his victims, often imagined their diatribes against him, but when actually faced with someone, it was far worse than he could have imagined and he didn’t want to dive too deeply into his guilt.

"I was angry, I couldn't help it,” he said, looking down. “The hunger, it just-"

She interrupted him, suddenly looking bored.

"Yeah, yeah, no control, it's a compulsion, blah, blah, blah. More on that later, but, first, let me introduce you to the guys. Your twelve good men, tried and true. Although there are twenty of us and nine are women, but I'll crack on,” she said, finally smiling again, but there was no warmth to it.

She leaned over the seat and introduced them all, Donna, Glenn, Mary. Mitchell felt their names and stories pounding into his skull, seeping in as surely as the smell of the blood that hung through the air, as enticing as it was revolting.

"Please, please stop,” he finally said, interrupting Lia before she could finish. If he heard one more name he would explode. “I don't know what I can say."

"Don't say anything,” said Lia, flopping into her seat, leaning forward angrily, “because every word that comes out of your mouth is an excuse. It's misdirection."

"I'm not trying to trick you,” Mitchell said honestly.

"Not us. You're lying to yourself."

"I'm trying to change," he offered weakly.

"How's that working out for you?" she asked.

He squirmed under her direct gaze, everything he could say sounding weak and pathetic. But he had to make the attempt anyway.

"You know, it wasn't just me anyway, it was Daisy-"

"Oh, you're doing it again,” Lia said, rolling her eyes. She jabbed her finger on the table. “I was twenty two. I had a peanut allergy, I wanted to be a vet, I had a little brother that I loved more than anything in the world. Those are the things that make a human being.” She grew quieter. “Do you taste them in our blood? The arrogance to call yourself a victim. How dare you insult us like that?"

"I didn't mean to insult you," he said.

"You were flirting with me," she accused.

"I just wanted you to like me," he said quietly.

"And there we have it. You want forgiveness every day. You get a smile from me and it proves you're not completely evil. You do a thousand small nice things and you put them against the bad.” She smiled cruelly. “You actually do the sums in your head, don't you?” When he didn’t respond she stopped talking for a moment before asking in exasperation. “Why did you come here? For Annie or for you?"

"For Annie," he said immediately.

That was the truth. Coming here, he’d known all along this would happen, something like this, and if there had been any way for him to hide from this, to keep this from ever happening, he would have. But he knew getting Annie back was worth the risk.

"Crossing into Purgatory, that's a big deposit in the good account."

"No, I just want Annie back," he said hotly.

She paused, considering that for a moment, and he could see her believe him. But that wasn’t enough.

"Which one of us does that wipe off the slate? Donna, Glenn, me?"

"None of you. I don't know what you want me to do,” he asked. “What purpose does this serve?”

"I want you to stop hiding," she said loudly.

"I'm not hiding."

She snorted

" ‘I'm a victim.’ ‘I'm better now.’ ‘Daisy made me do it,’ " she mimicked.

"I'm not-"

"You're not what?"

"A victim," he said quietly.

He hadn’t believed that for a long time. It was her who had said that, not him.

"So you're what, what? Misunderstood?"

"I'm an animal,” he cried out. He was tired of this, tired of her stabbing words, her too keen insights, the way she refused to let him keep any of the tatters of comfort he’d gathered around himself. “I don't deserve mercy or forgiveness. I'm a murderer…I couldn't help myself. I loved it. The sensation, the power. I was dead,” he leaned forward, “but I never felt so alive. I wasn't human anymore. I lost my conscience, I was free, and that's what I was addicted to,” he said, realizing it for the first time. “I hacked my way through the world. I left a trail of blood a thousand miles long.” He paused, his voice cracking. “And I loved it. I'm a disease, I'm a plague. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, tears finally spilling over.

When he looked up again the train was empty except for Lia standing next to him. She was looking more sympathetic again.

“Poor little fool,” she said. “You still don’t understand. I’ll try; I’ll really try to help you. No matter that you don’t deserve a shred of my sympathy.”

“What?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Follow me,” she said, walking down the aisle, talking all the way. “I may be really new at this death thing, but I’m pretty sure I understand vampires better than you do.”

“What?” he asked again, feeling very stupid.

“Keep up,” she said mockingly. “You see, werewolves are different. There is a true split between them…for a while. It’s like another personality, one they have no control over. Eventually they start to merge, but the new werewolf, he’s just a victim.”

“I know vampires aren’t like that,” Mitchell said.

“Aren’t you the clever one,” she said, still mocking him. “But what you don’t understand is that a vampire’s true nature is not the monster, it’s the man. There’s a fusion at the moment of death. You might not be human, but you’re not not-human either. You’re…frozen.” She glanced back over her shoulder and he flinched, remembering Josie’s words. “You’re frozen at the very moment of death, usually the most agonizing and truth filled moment of a human being’s life. There’s nothing for it then because there are no more consequences. Everything you always wanted, dreamed of, never dared to let yourself do, it’s all yours for the taking. And the darkness in you, infused with vitality by the vampire, that darkness craves the blood, craves the freedom, craves the power. That is your true addiction, you’re right.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” he asked.

“See, it’s you, Mitchell, you’re free and you’re addicted. You still have the choice because blood addicts enable themselves. You were always a little emotional, weren’t you, and when you were turned that emotion had free reign. For years. Your emotions made you stop. And start. And stop again. On, off, on, off that wagon. It was your emotions that made you get on that train, your rage against humanity because there were a few of us who had reacted badly against the monsters in our midst. Can you blame us?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those vampires were under your care. You were their vampire king and they died. Ivan saved your life. Such a noble deed for a vampire. You were trying to protect humanity from finding out the horrible truth and how did they thank you but by trying to get you to do their dirty work, by slaughtering you, by looking down on you.”

“It doesn’t justify-”

“It doesn’t,” she said, turning around and jabbing her finger in his chest. “I am explaining, not justifying.” They were at the back of the train. Lia smiled and stepped off the back of it into the darkness. Mitchell frowned and stepped after her. “It doesn’t justify this,” Lia’s voice said in the black.

Mitchell’s eyes adjusted and he was in a dark room, emergency lights buzzing with slight illumination only.

The smell of blood still hung heavily in the air and he swallowed his usual desire for it, made sharper through his indulgences of the month before.

They were in the facility Kemp had been holding George and Nina in. They were in the room just off the entrance Mitchell had entered through. The room where the men had been off duty, lounging on couches. He had locked the door behind him before killing them all.

There were more than twenty bodies in that room alone.

“Why did you bring me here?” Mitchell asked, knowing Lia couldn’t be far away.

“Tsk tsk,” Lia said, coming to stand by him. “That’s not very contrite. And here I thought we were getting to the real you. After all, this place certainly puts my little murder into perspective.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

“This is the product of your hurt ego,” she said, gesturing to the bodies. “There has always been a part of you that believed Herrick, believed that people were cattle, believed that you were above it all now. You wanted to hurt humanity when you boarded that train for daring to turn against their predators, but I think it was mostly all natural instinct, the lashings of a wounded animal. This…this was all about you, your need for personal revenge, your betrayal at the hands of a human woman. Lucy did more damage than half a century under Herrick’s tutelage to the ravaged psyche of John Mitchell.”

“I don’t see what talking about this is good for,” he said, getting frustrated, not wanting to think about Lucy ever again.

“Well, tough, I’m not here to coddle you,” she said. “George may think differently in his heart, but you didn’t come here to save him. You came here to make Lucy pay for making a fool out of you, for destroying the good you’d worked so hard to bring about, the order you had instilled. You came here because she was going to be your salvation and instead she betrayed you.”

“Stop it,” Mitchell said, each word driving deeper into his guilt. “It doesn’t matter why, it’s done.”

“I admit I am curious why you didn’t kill her,” Lia said. “You went through all these people to get to her and then you didn’t finish the job.”

“Annie,” he whispered, trying not to relive the moment.

“Annie,” Lia said, realization flooding through her voice. “It’s always about Annie, isn’t it? I wonder why that is. I wonder if you know. I wonder if you’ll ever admit it. So…one woman was worth more than the other.”

“I felt like I was being unmade,” Mitchell admitted, lost in that moment. “Even so swamped by the blood lust, I could feel her and George, I knew they were safe. But then…she was just gone. The absence was like…nothing I’d ever felt.”

Mitchell closed his eyes against the memory of the pain and when he opened them he was seated in the train again.

"Budge up,” Lia said gently. Mitchell moved over to the other seat. She sat down next to him. “You can have Annie back…but there's a price."

Mitchell nodded. He’d been expecting that. He thought he could guess what she would ask and it did seem just. He was done going through the motions, fighting every second of every day, clinging to the shadows while the people around him walked in the light. He was so tired.

"I'll stay. I want you to take me to all my victims. I want to feel it, I want to suffer. I don't want to hide anymore. I just want her back."

"It's not that simple,” Lia said. She looked upwards as if waiting for something and then spoke again. “The time and cause of your death have already been set. But there are things that need to happen first. You see…you're the final piece in someone else's story and they need to complete their journey and in order to do that…they have to kill you."

"What?" he asked.

Volunteering to stay in Purgatory was one thing; being told you were going to be killed to fulfill someone else’s destiny was something different.

"You're going to be killed by a werewolf. A wolf-shaped bullet. Bang," Lia said, using her fingers to mime shooting a gun at his head.

He stared at her for a long moment.

"Who?"

She smiled again, getting up.

"We'll see you soon, Mitchell."

"You're letting me go?" he asked.

"Well, as punishments go it's pretty cruel and interesting, isn't it?" she asked. “To get back everything when you shouldn’t, to live knowing that the people you love know all your dirty secrets, to finally have to deal with the truth about yourself, to know and not know your death. Yes, I rather like this punishment.”

She walked toward the door.

Mitchell wanted to process this. He wanted time. He wanted oblivion. He wanted life. But most of all he wanted Annie so he got up and followed Lia back into the corridor.

There was nothing there. Mitchell waited, something telling him that was what he was supposed to do.

***

Annie stood, her back to the door, not wanting to see her doom come for her. It would be the Gray Man and the specters. The sounds of the parade kept getting nearer and nearer. She had been in the waiting room while she kept catching glimpses of Mitchell and knew he was here. Now she was in the room with the grating and knew that he had failed.

The door opened and closed behind her.

"Annie, isn't it? I'm Lia,” said a friendly voice behind her. Annie was instantly suspicious of someone new coming in. Especially someone who didn’t try to scare her right away. At the same time, she was nervous about what this new someone would do. If the time was come for her to go to hell, they certainly weren’t going to send someone nice. “Sorry about all this palaver,” said Lia. “It's been chaos here. Lots of people turning up early. Everyone's in a bit of a tizz.”

"You're going to take me to the room now,” Annie said, ignoring all the babble.

Lia sounded like Annie used to, once upon a time.

“Oh, you mean the parade? That was for my three o'clock. No, you're free to go."

“I don’t believe you,” said Annie.

“Why not? Don’t I have an honest face?”

“I was told I had a room.”

“You did, you do,” said Lia. “But that’s all changed now. You’re on the release list.”

“I can go. Really?” asked Annie, slowly starting to hope.

“Yeah. You will still be dead. I should make that clear,” Lia said, sitting on the bench and crossing her legs. “Your body…it's been over two years, nobody wants to see that.”

She laughed like that was a funny joke. Annie didn’t see what was so funny.

“And, um, will I come back here one day?” she asked.

“Well, we all end up here eventually. Personally I’m rather sorry to see you go. Once you come back it'll be all Boggle and pina coladas twenty four seven.” Annie didn’t say anything, rather unsure of this rather random person she’d just met. There was something vulnerable and nice about Lia, but Annie was still uncertain. “Spit spot,” said Lia gently. “Mitchell's waiting.” That was all Annie needed to know and she couldn’t stop the smile. She turned to go. “Is anything going on between you guys?” Lia suddenly asked. Annie stopped short. “I mean, he came to Purgatory to find you. Puts my ex-boyfriend's tattoo into perspective.”

Annie turned around, feeling rather dizzy.

“Just friends,” she said slowly.

“You'd be so adorable, you two,” Lia said encouragingly. “I could eat you up,” she whispered brightly.

Annie didn’t know what to make of that.

“I'm dead.”

“So is he.” Lia spread her arms behind her and leaned back on them. “I think it's meant to happen. I think…it's fate.”

Several things were happening inside Annie, fear and joy and confusion and hope and suspicion and doubt.

She didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted to be glad she was leaving and glad Mitchell was there. Mostly she was just curious.

“What happened to you, Lia?” Annie asked.

Lia didn’t say anything for a moment, looking off into the distance.

“A very bad thing.” Then she smiled again, the dark moment gone. “It's okay. My part of the story isn’t important. You’ll figure that out. We play the long game here.”

Annie stared for a moment and then nodded before rushing out the door.

She found herself in a bright light but there was a corridor and standing at the end was a dark figure, his back toward her.

She felt her face widen without any prompting at all.

“Mitchell,” she called. “Mitchell.” She ran toward him and he started toward her but she was faster and she threw her arms around him. He felt solid and safe and he wrapped his arms around her, clutching her to him. “You saved me,” she said.

“Oh, you saved me, too,” she heard him murmur into her shoulder.

She laughed and pulled back, looking at his face, running her hands over it. He smoothed her hair, rubbing her shoulders, as if to make sure she was really there.

“What happened?” she asked. “Was there like some kind of, I don't know, trade off?”

He hesitated for a second and then genuine joy shone on his face.

"Nothing. There was nothing. Mind games, that's all. I don't believe a word of it.”

She hugged him again, squeezing as tightly as she could, and he swung her around.

By the time she opened her eyes again it was bright and she pulled back from him, suddenly conscious of how close they were. It was too much with Lia’s words running in her mind.

She looked away and then frowned in confusion.

“Uh, where are we? This isn't Bristol.”

The sea was in front of her, gray and cloudy skies above a boardwalk.

Mitchell grimaced and then leaned back against the stone railing.

“No, that's the other thing, we sort of moved to Wales. Barry Island, to be exact.”

For a moment she was a little hurt and then confused.

“Why?”

His face darkened and she almost regretted asking.

“It’ll all make sense when we get home,” he said.

“Wales, huh?” she said, not wanting to push him. He nodded. “Oh, I wanna go back.”

“To Bristol?” he asked.

“No, to Purgatory,” she said, laughing.

He chuckled and she was filled with another burst of affection and giddiness. She launched herself into a hug again and he hugged her back, his chest reverberating with laughter and his hands running up and down her back.

They stayed that way for a quiet moment and then Mitchell figured out exactly where in Barry they were before leading her home.

Annie’s eyes widened as she looked at their new home. It was…different.

She and Mitchell went inside and Mitchell peeked through the windows into the kitchen before whispering in her ear. She grinned and nodded and rent-a-ghosted into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and pouring into George’s empty mug.

George looked up at her, his face filled with tears, and she smiled broadly, her entire self brimming with how much at home she was so long as she had her boys.

George practically tackled her in a hug and Annie laughed as he went from asking her question after question to yelling at Mitchell for pulling such a stupid prank and then praising him for rescuing her and demanding he never do anything so dangerous again.

Annie looked over George’s shoulder as Mitchell looked at Nina hopefully and Nina finally smiled genuinely, walking over and hugging him. Annie was confused but glad because Mitchell looked happy.

When George finally let Annie go, she hugged Nina tightly and Nina whispered how very glad she was that Annie was back.

“We have a surprise for you,” Mitchell said after all the hugging finally stopped.

“For me?” asked Annie.

He grabbed her hand and ushered them all up the stairs. Mitchell made Annie stop at the top and George and Nina hurried by her while Mitchell put his hands over her eyes.

When she opened them again she was in a bedroom with a single armchair, so very close to the one she’d had in her room at Bristol. She laughed and sat in it, bouncing slightly.

Nina handed her a teapot and Annie grinned while Mitchell let his silly side out and George loudly suggested that they should have a party.

They all went downstairs and Mitchell spun her around as George put some music on. Mitchell finally let Annie stop spinning and she was facing a very bright Hawaiian-themed wall and he’d put a lei over her head.

She didn’t know how on earth this was better than Bristol but she let Mitchell try and convince her.

“It’s brilliant,” he insisted. “Look, you can surf in front of it.”

He demonstrated.

George and Nina appeared, wearing very stupid straw hats that George said had been left lying around.

“I’ve got straws for drinks,” said Nina. “And umbrellas.”

“Annie’s uncertain about the surfing potential here,” said Mitchell to the other two.

“Well, Annie,” said George. “You’re more of a hula girl, aren’t you?”

“I did love to dance,” said Annie, letting herself get caught up in the excitement.

“Then come on,” said Mitchell, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the wall. “Come on, George, Nina. Let’s show her how it’s done.”

George laughed and pulled Nina toward the wall, keeping one arm around her and one in back of Mitchell. They all hula-ed to their heart’s content until Nina declared she couldn’t take herself seriously anymore. Mitchell grabbed bottles from behind the bar while everyone else sat down.

Annie let herself sit, just sit and stare around the room. She felt safe again. She didn’t want to think about what she’d left behind. This was where she belonged, even if she missed her little house. George and Nina kissed and laughed and Annie looked at Mitchell laughing at something George said.

Annie once again felt the contradiction of feeling alive when she was dead, but this was more than anything she’d ever felt while she’d lived. Mitchell caught her eye and smiled warmly and Annie thought she was probably blushing. She smiled back, letting her love for them all beam out. How good of them all to have come for her, to want her, to prepare a room for her. She was a part of their family, these wandering souls, broken people working for some kind of redemption or connection. Their little enclave of the lost. Outside the monsters prowled, but in this strange bed and breakfast, they were safe.

Their party went on for hours and it was the perfect homecoming until Annie finally started asking the questions she had about the time she had lost.

“What happened in Bristol?” she asked. “What happened to make Kemp come after you like that? Why are we in Wales?”

An instant tension filled the room and Annie grew afraid again.

George and Nina looked at Mitchell, George biting his lip.

“We don’t really have to go into all that now, do we?” asked Mitchell.

“No, I want to know,” said Annie, unsure why he wouldn’t just say.

“Mitchell, it’s time,” said George wearily.

“You knew it had to happen,” said Nina a little more harshly.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on,” demanded Annie, alarmed that she appeared to be missing something.

Mitchell groaned and put his hands over his face. George and Nina just looked sad when Annie turned to them in a wordless request for an explanation.

“Do you remember how I acted in the kitchen? Back in Bristol?” Mitchell finally asked, without turning around.

“You were a first rate wanker,” said Annie. “You scared me.”

“I was…drunk at the time. Blood drunk, if you will.”

“You mean…”

“I mean I had just fallen off the wagon in the biggest way.”

“Mitchell,” Annie breathed in horror. “I guess I knew there was something wrong, you were so wrong, but I didn’t…”

Mitchell finally turned around and slowly pulled a folded up newspaper article out of his jacket pocket. It was clearly well-read, crinkled, faded. He held it out to her.

Annie took it with trembling hands and read about the massacre of the Box Tunnel Twenty.

She didn’t want to believe it. Mitchell had messed up from time to time, had turned Lauren shortly before Annie had met him, but he was good, even when he’d gone back to Herrick, he’d just been confused. He wouldn’t…he hadn’t…

“Annie?” Mitchell whispered.

“No,” she said. “No.” She flung the newspaper away from her and it swirled toward the floor, the printed words of his guilt floating this way and that before finally settling on the floor. “You can’t have!”

“Oh, but he did,” said Nina bitterly.

Annie found her confirmation in the anger on Nina’s face and the unbearable sadness on George’s.

“Let me explain,” said Mitchell and proceeded to do so, telling her about what he’d done - not just on the train, but at the facility when she had been taken and what happened since. If Annie had been able to speak she would have cut him off, every word he said stabbing her anew. “I was angry and I was wrong,” he ended, “and all I knew was that I had to get you back.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said numbly. “You should’ve told me before you brought me back.”

“Annie, saving you didn’t have anything to do with what I did.”

“No, because now I’m part of it!” she yelled, standing up. A car alarm went off outside. “Now I have to make a decision. It spreads, Mitchell. What you've done, it's contaminated us all."

"I'm sorry. Oh, Annie, I'm so sorry," he said, walking away from her, tears in his voice.

She was quiet for a long moment, turning over everything he said in her mind. She turned to George and Nina.

“Well, what…what do you say? You knew; how can you sit there so calmly?”

Annie broke down crying and then felt Nina’s warm arms surround her.

“We’re not calm,” Nina soothed. “We feel it too. We’ve just had more time than you. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. I’m so sorry.”

Annie cried for a long time and maybe if she’d thought about it she would have rent-a-ghosted to her new room or anywhere else, but she didn’t remember how. The longer she cried, the calmer she became, but still so very angry. That white-hot fury she’d felt with Kemp started to rise in her throat. She didn’t want to feel that way, it made her sick inside.

The light bulbs in the room exploded and the room went dark, lit only by the street lights outside.

Everyone else jumped but Annie stood tall and resolute.

"You turn yourself in. Give those families that comfort," she told Mitchell.

He sat down again and shook his head.

"I can't, Annie. I can't do that."

Her calm began to leave her, but not her resolution.

"You saved me,” she said, moving from where Nina and George stood by her to where Mitchell was sitting all alone, “so I know that there's still good in you. I know that the man I knew is still in there."

Mitchell sniffed and wiped at his face.

"Everything will be torn apart. The entire world! They can't know, they can't."

She could understand his fear and the part of her that was still so grateful to be away from the sterile horror of Purgatory wanted to honor his risk to save her.

"I'll go with you,” she said, kneeling next to him, taking his hands. George started to protest behind her but she ignored him. “Wherever they take you, I'll be with you. So you won't be alone."

Mitchell made a noise of protest and looked her in the eyes.

"Oh, Annie, it's not about fear or punishment. I want to be punished! But it can't happen like this."

"Mitchell, they were people's children,” she said, her voice quaking, then felt the anger again. “And you and Daisy-" she shouted, punching his arm, making him cry even harder. "This has to stop, Mitchell, please. And this is how."

Mitchell cried more than she’d ever seen a man cry before but he couldn’t change her mind.

"Why won't you understand? We can't be arrested," he said finally.

“You talk some sense into him,” said Annie, gesturing back to George and Nina.

To her surprise she saw that Nina was watching Mitchell with a contemplative look on her face and tears in her eyes. George was clutching at his glasses so hard Annie thought they might break.

“Annie,” he began, stopping when his voice broke. “Annie, we said the same thing but…think about what you’re asking him to do. The whole world set against those families?”

“What about the families of the men who died in the facility where we were held?” Nina asked. “We should hold them in consideration.”

“What about the families of everyone I’ve killed since I was made?” Mitchell said, not looking up from his head in his hands. “You can’t repay the things I’ve done. It’s impossible.”

“You don’t get to decide this,” Annie said sternly. “You don’t know what it would feel like for those people to know you were behind bars.”

“But they won’t feel peace,” Mitchell said, his voice steadier now. “Any justice, any comfort will be washed away in the onslaught of a flood of fear because now vampires exist in this world. You would be condemning them, not giving them peace.”

“You do not get to speak,” said Annie, angrier with him than she’d ever been.

Each word she said was punctuated with a door slamming somewhere upstairs.

“Annie, are you okay?” asked George timidly. “You’re doing the poltergeist thing again.”

“This is not about me,” she yelled and three more car alarms sounded on the street.

“The neighbors!” squealed George.

“Annie, Annie, you need to calm down,” said Nina, putting her arms around Annie. “Look, I was angry, too. I was so angry I tried to stake him. It’s not okay, none of this is. But…we’re all here, right? We all just got back together. You need time to adjust. I don’t know what happened while you were gone, but clearly it was awful. So, let’s walk away, come back at this fresh another time, okay?”

Annie nodded, her anger dissipating to be replaced by a bone weary sadness.

“You and I are not friends,” Annie told Mitchell sternly. “I have never been closer with anyone in my life, but you and I are no longer friends.”

He simply nodded, looking more defeated than she could have ever imagined. The loss of him hit her like a sledgehammer and if she’d needed to breathe she would have been hyperventilating. Suddenly she didn’t think she could bear this existence without him. Lia’s words ran through her head again and Annie realized that she really did love Mitchell. She could love him so much more deeply, but now…now that was all ruined. He had turned into someone she didn’t know, even though he was the same; but everything he’d done was right there, unable to be ignored or excused or turned away from. She wouldn’t be herself if she let his actions slide.

Annie walked up the stairs with Nina leaving Mitchell behind and George hovering in the hallway between.