Among the Deepening Shades: Chapter Twelve

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Twelve

George could never really say what happened that night. He recalled the blind rage and the intent to kill Mitchell but it had blurred into the normal feeling of anger and wrath. There were fuzzy images, the smell of blood, and he recalled a lot of running and climbing and then an odd resignation followed by a sharp burst of fury and then sadness and fear.

Then he was waking up naked with Mitchell’s coat wrapped around him, his head aching and fuzzy, Annie and Mitchell standing by Nina’s bloody body, and hearing sirens cutting through the air.

It was still blurry after that.

Annie had somehow miraculously set up a little campsite for them a ways off but far away from where they’d apparently spent the night to explain why they were in the woods. She had a pair of sweatpants that George gratefully slipped on and some battered clothes for Nina. The story was to be that they had been camping and Nina had been attacked, George had tried to save her and gotten hit on the head for his effort and then tried to carry her to help but she’d been too injured and he’d gotten a fellow hiker passing by to get help. Quite fortunately, the closest place for them to take her was not the hospital where George currently worked and Nina was well known.

Annie and Mitchell hid while the police questioned George and Nina was worked on before they loaded her into the ambulance.

George had his heart in his throat, barely paying attention to what he was saying the whole time. Then he heard a man say she would probably make it and something inside him unclenched. There was a mad ride to the hospital and then he was shunted into a waiting room where he paced up and down and then tried to clean himself off in the bathroom, before someone came to look at his head and stitched it up. Then it was back to waiting again. He couldn’t say how long he’d been waiting for Nina to come out of surgery when Annie popped up beside him.

He jumped, tense and anxious.

“Annie!” he whispered sharply. “Most people think it’s weird to have conversations with empty air.”

“It’s okay, George,” she soothed. “People can see me if I want them to.”

“When the hell did that happen?”

“Last night was a long one for everyone,” she said enigmatically, her voice a little sad.

“Where’s Mitchell?” he asked, trying to sound as if he didn’t care.

“Taking care of the Heights,” said Annie. “You guys blew through that door like it wasn’t even there. Then there’s all the blood upstairs.”

“And Herrick?” asked George.

“From what I understand, Mitchell staked him,” Annie said carefully.

George buried his head in his hands.

“I almost lost her, Annie,” he said.

“I know,” she said, rubbing his back in slow circles. “But she’s going to be okay, so’s the baby.”

“I should never have let Herrick- Mitchell was meeting with him, you know? Trying to get his bloody secret of immortality. He brought him back to himself and then the bastard came after my Nina.”

“I know,” said Annie. “It’s awful.”

“I thought he’d chosen us,” said George, scrubbing at his eyes. “I thought we’d won.”

“I went back to Purgatory,” Annie said lightly.

George sat up and stared at her.

“What?”

“Yeah, I went to Purgatory. Wanted to stop you killing Mitchell and all that. Turns out…well, the prophecy was put into place to get me to do just that. So…well, let’s just say there were some extenuating circumstances.”

“How did you get back? What the hell happened?”

“I think there will be a lot of stories to share,” she said. “But for now…unless one of you hauls off and kills him, Mitchell is safe. Herrick is gone, so are Daisy and Cara. The other side can’t touch me now and you…you have a beautiful family waiting for you in the other room.”

“Annie, it can’t be that simple,” said George. “I don’t think I can forgive him for this.”

“I’m more worried about him forgiving himself,” she said.

“Are you just always going to choose his side now?” he asked.

“Probably not,” she said, smiling serenely.

He really looked at her. There was something different about her. She was still Annie, but…well, there was a confidence in her posture and her sentences didn’t come out as rambling messes. At least mostly.

“What really happened to you?”

“I woke up,” she said. “I woke up and found that I was stronger than I thought. And more fallible.”

“That cleared that up really well, thank you so much,” he said.

She chuckled and hugged him.

“Oh, George, we can debrief later. Can’t we just celebrate the fact that we’re all alive?”

“Are we?” he asked dully.

“Yes,” she said firmly, smiling that smile again. “Now, I’m going to go home and make sure Mitchell doesn’t make a mess of everything. You take care of Nina and then come home, okay?”

“Okay,” said George.

What else could he say?

When Annie had gone a doctor came for him and told him he could see Nina for a few moments.

George stood and hurried into Nina’s room. She looked extremely pale and her hair was still matted with blood, but the machines were all beeping with the normal sounds that meant everything was okay.

“She needs a lot of rest,” said the doctor. “Luckily the knife missed her major internal organs and the baby entirely. The main danger was a bleed out and I’m not sure how she didn’t manage it. The whole thing is a miracle.”

George almost involuntarily went to touch his necklace that wasn’t there. He’d taken it off in preparation for the full moon so it was probably back at the house; he’d never had a chance to give it to Mitchell to hold for him. He felt naked without it, incomplete somehow.

“The baby’s okay?” he asked hoarsely.

“The baby got the best deal out of the two of them,” said the doctor. “Since there was no rupture to the uterine walls your wife’s body went into natural protection mode to keep it safe. That’s partly why it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“When can she come home?” asked George, ignoring the part about Nina being his wife; that idea hurt too much.

“We want to keep her overnight at least,” said the doctor, “but depending on how she’s doing, maybe tomorrow afternoon.”

George nodded, his eyes glued to Nina. Her own eyes were fluttering open and he stepped quickly to her side, holding her hand in the typical bedside fashion.

“Hi,” she said, her voice raspy.

“Hi,” he said, struggling not to cry.

“How’s the…baby?” she asked.

“You saved her,” said George.

“A girl?” asked Nina in confusion.

“That’s just what I think,” he said.

She smiled wanly.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, it was hard to speak.

“Nina, I’m worried about you, you more than anything.”

“Did we hurt anybody?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” said George, “though we apparently came pretty close.”

“I think I…re…member,” she said, before her eyes rolled backwards and she went back to sleep.

They moved her to a more private room after that and George stayed by her side, snoozing lightly, all afternoon. Her color had rapidly improved every time he woke up, and her breathing was stronger. He knew enough about the monitors to know her vital signs were improving as well. It was amazing. To think he’d thought she’d been dead the night before.

He didn’t want to think about that because the more he did the angrier and the more ashamed he became. He wanted to tear Herrick to pieces and he wasn’t that sure about what he wanted to do to Mitchell, but those very feelings were the ones that inspired his shame. Could any human truly feel the amount of rage he felt and still maintain their humanity?

George had known darkness before, felt it in himself. He recalled the sickening thuds of hitting a man’s face over and over, each blow sending shockwaves of pain through his knuckles, but each blow a pleasure and satisfaction. That had happened when he’d tried to shut the wolf up, tried to send it to sleep.

But the wolf lingered out of sight, always in the back of his mind, merging his feelings with George’s. They both loved Nina, loved her as a mate, and they were protective of their child. They both hated containment and stupidity and being betrayed. Both of them had anger issues. So when had the wolf stopped being George’s excuse and become George’s reason? He couldn’t just say ‘the wolf made me do it,’ every time he wanted to pummel something. Somehow they were joined closer than ever and it was likely only to get more and more like that if the pattern was any indication. Did George have any type of self-control at all anymore? He shook with anger when he thought about Nina in danger and that was never going to change. It would probably be the same even if neither of them were werewolves. The difference was that as a wolf George could cause an awful lot of damage in the midst of a temper tantrum. There was no cure, only living with it, so George had to live with himself.

He hated constantly comparing himself to Mitchell, trying to see where he was more righteous, trying to see where Mitchell failed. But every time he inevitably did it, he only seemed to end up with more evidence that Mitchell had gotten the bum end of the deal and that George was a lot more culpable for things than he wanted to be. Mitchell had no wolf to blame his behavior on, George did.

If George could accept the wolf within himself - and what other choice did he have? - then he could accept the vampire within Mitchell. No, it was definitely the man George was furious with. Mitchell had promised to choose George. He’d been given an ultimatum and he’d lied and no matter his intentions, his actions had led to Nina being hurt, to George almost killing…Daisy…and Mitchell? It was still all very fuzzy, but George remembered Nina being very insistent on killing Daisy.

That was a thought for another day. With a sigh, George decided he would just have to talk to Nina and Annie and then to Mitchell before he decided how he wanted to proceed. If anything Annie’s worries would turn out to be right and Mitchell would be planning some stupid noble gesture that in reality was just him being selfish and giving up again. George couldn’t let that happen. There was just too much else to think about.

“You look like crap,” said Nina from above him.

“Yeah, well, werewolf,” he said, spreading his hands and smiling wryly.

“Why don’t you go home and get cleaned up?” she asked.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

“That’s sweet. But you smell.”

“I don’t want to see Mitchell,” he confessed.

Nina’s face widened in comprehension.

“Ah, I see. Well, take a shower here then, somewhere. Try not to worry about Mitchell. He…he kept his head last night and I’m pretty sure he saved my life.”

“He endangered your life,” said George sharply.

“We were the ones who sent his cure away,” said Nina wearily. “I don’t want to argue, George. Mitchell can wait.”

George was confused, especially with her defending Mitchell in any capacity, but he was more than happy to stop speaking about him.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Pretty good,” she said. “I could take a walk.”

“I doubt that’s a good idea.”

“Maybe not, but I’m pretty sure this kid is healing me or something.”

“That’s, that’s…unprecedented.”

She shrugged, then smiled softly.

“I think I love this baby, George.”

“I know I do,” he said.

“I love both of you,” she said, tears starting in her eyes.

“Nina…”

“No, I’m not saying it cause I almost died. I mean, I am, but I don’t care. I loved you before, it wasn’t the love that stopped, it was the trust, but, George, you stood up to Mitchell for me, you almost killed Daisy for me.”

“How do you remember all this?” he asked in amazement, finding it wiser to ask that question than to jump up and down because she said she loved him.

“I think,” she said, looking down, “I think the baby again. I don’t know. I mean, you remember bits, right?”

“Bits,” he said. “But that only happened recently and you’ve been a wolf for a much shorter time than I have.”

“Baby,” she said again as her explanation.

She reached for his hand and George grasped it early, twining his fingers with hers.

“I’m so sorry for this, Nina.”

“I forgive you…for everything. I want us to be a family.”

“No separate bedrooms?”

“No separate bedrooms. You need to be there to stare creepily at me when I wake up in the morning.”

“For every morning,” he said.

“Every morning. I want a ring,” she said, “and I want a wedding and I want a house and I want all of those things you’re supposed to have.”

“Nina, are you proposing to me?” George asked, flabbergasted.

“You knocked me up, it’s only right you marry me,” she said.

He started laughing and leaned over and kissed her. It felt so good to kiss her after a month of not being able to. Her lips were dry and rough and his face was dirty, but it was okay, it was just right to be able to inhale that sweet scent, the one that filled his best dreams.

“You taste good,” he said, leaning back.

“You taste like mud,” she said, then grew serious. “George, I forgive you for Daisy.”

“Thank, thank you,” he said, unable to trust himself to say much more than that.

“We can talk about everything later,” she said. “I feel…good about the future, George.”

“If you feel good then it can’t be that bad,” he said.

“If you ever hurt me again I’ll castrate you,” she warned.

He grinned.

“If I ever hurt you again I’ll deserve it,” he said and there was nothing more a man could say and be sincere.

He stayed with her for the rest of the evening until she made him go home and take a shower and sleep in his own bed, saying she’d get more sleep without him sitting there like a neglected puppy.

He agreed and left, but the joy that filled his heart was slightly overweighed by the heavy feeling of seeing Mitchell again. However he didn’t have to worry about that because Mitchell wasn’t there when he got home.

Annie was, she was in the kitchen cooking, once again doing about eighteen things without using her hands. George stopped to watch her, not as startled or afraid as last time. Something had truly changed in her, and selfish idiot that he was, he hadn’t noticed. She’d been going through her own journey of revelation and somehow come out on the other side stronger for it. She was still Annie, but he wouldn’t want to be someone who’d pissed her off.

“Where’s Mitchell?” he asked.

She looked up from the oven, delicious smells wafting through the air, reminding his stomach it hadn’t eaten anything in a very long time.

“Out,” she said, concentrating slightly. “He’s in town. Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon, but he’s making sure that nothing about last night gets out.”

“Covering his own arse again?” said George, sitting at the table and gratefully accepting the mug of tea she offered him.

“Let’s hear his side of it,” she said, sitting beside him. “George, he’s hurt me very badly and I know firsthand what it’s like to be in a relationship where everything is based on a lie, on abuse, on fear. But Mitchell does something I never saw Owen do…he atones. Whether or not that’s enough I don’t know, but I’m willing to at least hear him out.”

“Annie, I don’t want to lose him…but Nina-Nina always has to come first.”

“As she should,” said Annie. “Believe me, George; you’ll get no argument from me.”

“Thank God for you, Annie,” he said, taking a sip. “And your tea.”

“What a change that is,” she said, laughing and he laughed with her. “May I?” she asked, indicating the tea.

He frowned, but nodded. When she put her hands on his head, he understood and he took another sip.

She smiled broadly.

“Good?” he asked.

“I am the best,” she said, opening her eyes. “And, George, you and the wolf, there’s a peace there now, nothing separate in your head.”

“You can feel that?” he asked, panicked at the idea of anyone knowing the inner workings of his head and feeling his shame. “Hey, stay-stay-stay out of my head and, and get your own bloody tea.”

“I can’t help it,” she said, shrugging. “I didn’t know it would be that strong, I won’t do it unless you give permission, but I thought you should know what was happening. The wolf’s becoming you and it isn’t a bad thing. It just means you have to be careful.”

“How can you say that’s not a bad thing?” he said, his voice rising.

She smiled.

“Because I know you, George, and for the wolf to become you, means the wolf is getting an awesome bargain. I’ve never known anyone so obsessed with staying good, George, not even Mitchell. You’re stronger than whatever rage the wolf is bringing to you.”

“Annie, I-” he stopped, unsure what to say.

Could what she was saying be true? He’d been trying to accept his wolf, trying so hard to accept that he could be two things, a werewolf and a good man, but it was hard. Everything he’d ever believed told him different. Nothing but the fact that he knew three people who shared his fears had ever given him hope.

It gave him new things to think about, especially where Mitchell was concerned.

“Just think about it,” she said and wrinkled her nose. “And maybe shower, because you’re filthy.”

He laughed, the sudden desire to hug her overwhelming him.

“If people can see you now, you could set up a therapist job for yourself, you know. Supernatural counseling.”

Her face lit up.

“Really, do you think?”

“Yeah, I think,” he said.

“Cool,” she said, jumping up and getting back to her cooking.

Not that it seemed to have suffered in her absence because things had never stopped making themselves since she’d sat down.

George made his way to the bathroom and felt the hot water beat down on his sore muscles, carefully avoiding his head wound like the doctor had told him, letting the water sting in the little cuts and bruises he always had after a night out as the wolf.

As a wolf.

Annie was right, however she knew about it. George didn’t feel conflicted anymore. He and the wolf were reconciled, cohabiting, if not happily, at least without fighting each other.

He was the wolf, the wolf was him, the metaphysics of it could give him a headache.

The thought of Nina standing before him, ready to become his wife, banished the thoughts away. If he could have that, he could handle anything else, and he would, because he was going to be a father and a husband.

“My name is George and I am a werewolf,” he said to the empty bathroom.

***

Annie was glad when George finally went to sleep. The poor man was utterly exhausted and she knew he would just keep thinking about last night, about Nina, about Mitchell, and that wouldn’t be good. George had a habit of obsessing over things.

Not that she was much better; she was itching to do things now that she knew Mitchell was out of danger. The problem with coming down from an adrenaline high was that boredom was always lurking at the bottom. She wondered what else she could do. There was definitely the potential for her to go a little over the top with her new powers, especially since she was dying to clean the place, call ghosts to her, try and rebuild the entire other side, or make the things around her as they should be.

However, George’s idea of becoming a therapist was just tantalizing enough that she felt like there was merit in it and realistic enough for her to actually attempt. She’d think about it some more, but right now, the immediate rehashing after an event was necessary and she called to Lia on the telly.

“Annie, is that you?” asked Lia, her face flickering into view.

She didn’t look quite as perky and confident as she normally did. There was a touch of hesitance, and, perhaps deference, in her voice.

“How’s everything?” asked Annie.

“Well, there’s a party going on,” said Lia. “I guess no one really liked the Gray Man much, not too shocking, that.”

“But all those ghosts that I destroyed…”

Lia shrugged.

“We’re already dead, Annie. Besides, any ghost worth its salt left the minute you tried to throw down. Most ghosts that linger near the doors are pretty nasty and eager to serve whoever gives them the most.”

“So now they’re just gone?”

“Just gone,” said Lia, smiling. “And you’ve got a whole crowd of ghosts clamoring to be your new flunkies.”

“My what?”

“Minions, peons, servants, I thought you watched television.”

Annie got irritated quite quickly. Apparently Lia hadn’t lost all of her annoying habit of speaking in condescending riddles.

“I want some answers,” she said quietly. Lia paled. “About what his plan was, what he wanted with me.”

“I don’t know everything,” Lia said hastily.

“Well, tell me what you do know. Am I right in thinking that the whole purpose of the prophecy was to drive Mitchell crazy so that I’d come and try to save him?”

Lia nodded.

“And for my revenge, don’t forget my revenge.”

“Why the werewolf to kill him?”

“Natural enemies,” said Lia. “The prophecy was true, true enough, you know. All prophecies are possible, but the Gray Man just put it into play at the moment that best served his purposes. Besides, we wanted to drive a wedge between Mitchell, and George and Nina. But instead this baby werewolf got in the way, making them dependent on him for help. He wasn’t nearly desperate enough. So that’s when they allowed Herrick to rise.”

“So Mitchell would betray George and Nina for the price of the secret of immortality?”

“Bingo,” said Lia. “What a splendid job he did of it, too.”

Annie nodded, not wanting to think about that.

“Does that mean that Herrick didn’t really know the secret of immortality, it was all just planned by you guys?”

Lia hesitated.

“I don’t know, it all got a bit over my head to be honest and I was busy thinking up scandalous things to say to you when you got here.”

“Lia,” Annie said warningly.

“All right, all right. I think there is a trick,” said Lia, “but it has to be sanctioned by someone over here and that would depend on who was in charge and what mood they were in that day. So, I wouldn’t count on it always? I really don’t know that much about vampires and their ritual sacrifices, oddly enough.”

Annie nodded, processing that, and then asked her next question.

"So, why did you want us together?"

"Well, you needed a reason to come home. We weren’t lying about needing you to come back the right way. For love you abandoned the path, for love you could take it up again.” Lia paused, then smiled cruelly. “For me, keeping you here, depriving him of you, that would be his punishment, leaving him grief stricken."

"He was the weapon for me and I for him,” said Annie, catching herself before she let her voice tremble.

"Now she gets it," Lia said, rolling her eyes.

“So why’d you let me practice? Get strong?”

“You’re adorable, Annie, and smart, but not very smart,” said Lia. “After all, one just needs a little bit of muscle to think they can do anything.”

“You’re doing a great job of making friends and influencing people,” said Annie, about ready to go back to Purgatory and teach Lia a thing or two about manners.

Lia quieted, biting her lip, looking truly chastised.

"Sorry. Just give me a chance. I've got a lot of very commendable qualities, I'm chatty, but also a good listener. You could move in, I could help you rule Purgatory."

She smiled like she’d just solved all the world’s problems. Annie shook her head.

"This is all just one big game to you, isn't it!"

Lia’s face grew very hard and she spoke harshly.

"This wasn't a game. This was revenge. He killed me.” She jabbed her finger at the screen. “Let me tell you something about revenge, it isn't petulant or being a sore loser. It's righteous. Revenge is about setting the world straight again."

Annie suddenly felt piteous. She’d felt such things before, right after she’d remembered how she died.

"It didn't work though, did it?"

Lia turned away and sat down on her bed, looking out at her room.

"My room is all I have, you know. I'd come back here on holiday from college. My parents would make such a big fuss and my mum could literally not bear the sight of someone not eating.” Lia spoke quietly so it was hard to hear her. “This house is very quiet now. Since I died. My dad comes in here sometimes, lays on the bed; my brother's getting into lots of fights at school. This was all for them, can you not understand that?"

"And Nina? Cara? The baby?"

"Collateral damage," said Lia dismissively.

“That’s your problem right there,” said Annie, “because revenge never stops at the person who hurt you. We’re all connected.”

"You did a pretty good job of getting revenge yourself,” said Lia. “I think we'd be great friends."

"Yeah, all the murdered girls,” said Annie. “Lia, I don’t pretend to be perfect. There was a moment there when I could have well lost my way. Maybe one day I will, but I have people to help me. We’re all connected. But you tried to break that circle. You talk about your parent's grief; well, they're not the only ones. If his plan had worked and I’d been stuck there, we could have sat there on your bed and watched George losing Nina, losing the baby, losing me, losing Mitchell."

"I don't…"

"I would have made you watch,” interrupted Annie. “Watch him turn hard, cold, mean. He'd be like your comrade. The last victim of the Box Tunnel Twenty Massacre."

Lia’s face twisted and she turned away, her voice low and sincere.

"I'm sorry."

"You were out of your depth,” said Annie, sighing, feeling like it wasn’t really her place to throw stones, especially at her boyfriend’s victim. “I've been doing this supernatural stuff a long time and, trust me, grief and revenge are not things to get drunk on. I think you wanted wild and Biblical and…" she made a roaring sound and gestured with a clawed hand "…but instead you just woke up somewhere unfamiliar with your underwear on back to front. You became the monster."

Lia let out a sound of distress.

"I wouldn't know how to…"

"How to what?" asked Annie gently.

"How to undo it."

"Lia, this was never you."

"I don’t know who I am anymore,” said Lia in a small voice. “And if you go then I won't know anybody here."

"I know a few people, I'll introduce you. Gilbert," said Annie. “That ghost who stopped me, he’d make a pretty good leader of Purgatory. If only because everyone would be too busy hating their Gilbert fun to concoct crazy revenge machinations.”

"Annie, revenge kind of sucks. Who knew?" Lia asked, shrugging.

“You can call me,” said Annie, relenting.

Being friends with Lia wasn’t on her to-do list, but somehow she couldn’t ignore someone who needed a friend. It would be awkward, especially because one of the only things Annie really wanted to do was snog Mitchell senseless when he got home.

“Thank you,” said Lia.

There was a pause.

“Lia, how long was the Gray Man there?” asked Annie.

“I don’t know,” said Lia. “He was always here for me. He took me aside, offered me the chance to make Mitchell pay. From what I can tell, you don’t really remember him unless he wants- wanted you to.”

Annie paused to consider that for a while. Hopefully the Gray Man was just a blip in the normal system; a system Annie didn’t really know anything about. Maybe instead of tearing everything down, Annie had made it right again. She hoped so; otherwise, she could have gotten herself noticed by the wrong people.

“Let me know if there’s any trouble over there,” said Annie.

“Yes, boss,” said Lia.

The screen went dark and Annie frowned at the idea of ghosts looking up to her. What an odd and terrifying concept.

“How’s Purgatory?” asked a quiet voice behind her.

Annie jumped slightly. As much as she was now hyper aware of how to find him, she hadn’t heard Mitchell come in.

“Well, I didn’t destroy it, so that’s good,” she said cheerfully, reaching for him. He moved away and she dropped her arms, feeling hurt. “What’s wrong?”

“Annie, just stay away,” he said, his voice tired. “If you come to me, I’ll let you, selfish bastard that I am.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” she said, moving toward him, wrapping her arms around him.

He let her this time, but stayed tense and still under her touch.

“Annie, I don’t dese-”

“Just shut up, Mitchell,” she said, her lips closing the distance between them. “You can berate yourself later, I’ll even help. Can’t we just discuss it all later? Right now I just want to reassure myself you’re still alive.”

He made a choking sound like she’d wounded him, but when she kissed him, his apparent struggle for restraint lasted only a minute before he was hungrily kissing her back.

That lasted only for a few moments while she felt desire rising in her. Then he slowed down, taking the measure of her mouth at a more languid pace.

“Slow,” he whispered. “Pure. Please.”

She slowed, able to see the reason in that request, remembering their conversation from before and how beautifully slow they’d been taking things. She closed her eyes and rent-a-ghosted them both back to her room. They didn’t have to have sex for her to be able to feel that he was there. Just holding him in the dark would work fine.

***

Mitchell stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. Annie wasn’t there anymore. After selfishly wanting to feel her one last time he’d fallen into a fitful doze and she’d gone. He hadn’t really slept; what good would that have done? Instead he'd just stayed on his bed, thinking about lasts and firsts and what he wanted to say. When he felt the sun coming he got up and went over to the window. Opening his thick curtains he squinted and felt the normal squirmy desire to hide before he let himself be bathed in the revealing light and watched the sun rise for one last time.

There was no more regret within him, just resignation. He was tired of fighting, of being used, of using others. He kept dragging those he loved down, making them roll in the mud with him. They elevated him for a time but he might as well be made of lead the way gravity pulled at him. It was true he’d never encountered someone like Annie who could stay with him forever, but he didn’t want to put that on her.

He could hear George and Annie moving around before George left to go to the hospital to pick up Nina and bring her home. Mitchell was just glad there hadn’t been any lasting damage because of his mistake, well, at least not to Nina.

Annie knocked on his door and then came in.

“Finally awake, I see,” she said, approaching him cautiously as if sensing how grave he was feeling.

She always did know, his Annie.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Listen, Annie, once George gets home, if Nina’s up for it, we have to talk.”

“I know,” she said sadly, a look he couldn’t recognize in her eyes.

He reached out and touched her cheek. She was so solid now. Last night had proved that. Whatever she’d done on the other side, she’d found a way to anchor herself to the world. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t matter if the little pink house burned down or she never made any other human connections after he and George were gone. She’d found herself a place in the world and that made him feel better about what he was going to do.

He spent the day getting little things in order. He’d already done that the night before, making sure everything had been handled from their wild night. The forest was pristine, no signs that vampires and wolves had been there. The police and the hospital were both satisfied with George and Nina’s story and weren’t too worried about finding anyone to arrest for the crime. So long as George and Nina did a healthy amount of checking back in, there shouldn’t be a problem there.

He’d made some inquiries on that pack of wolves Daisy had spoken about and from what he could tell some of them were still there. He doubted they would trust him so he didn’t try to approach them, but he planned to give their information to George and Nina. Perhaps they could find a family there that would be more suited to them. Packs were rare in his knowledge of the breed, but the ones that did exist were strong and banded together to fight against the vampires that would try to extinguish them. They were also very good at hiding. In his initial checks around Barry he’d had no inkling they were there.

Eventually George brought Nina home and Mitchell was shocked at the difference in her. She was walking of her own volition, color strong, both her and the baby felt alive and well to him. He was intensely glad. Nina went upstairs to change and Mitchell stayed out of sight in the kitchen where he’d been watching.

George and Annie sat on the couch, waiting for her.

"I can't believe how quickly Nina's recovered,” said Annie.

"Yeah, well, it's the one advantage to being a werewolf, I guess. You don't survive shattered bones and major organ failure every month without toughening up a bit."

“Still, that’s incredible.”

“I think - we think - it’s the baby as well,” said George.

Annie nodded.

“That makes sense.”

It made sense to Mitchell too. The baby was supposed to take away the limitations a normal werewolf had, and they were already far beyond the limitations of a human. Transforming had probably saved Nina’s life. Well, that and whatever it was Annie had done. He wasn’t too clear on that part.

Nina came downstairs and took George’s hand with a smile. Mitchell felt glad to see it. At least that was fixed. Now came the hard part. He shored up his courage and pushed past the kitchen doors.

Everyone stopped talking when he did, an uncomfortable silence falling on the room.

“I, uh, I guess I should start,” he said. He told them everything about the past month, how he’d gone to see Herrick, what Cara had done, how she’d died, and then how he’d tried to get to Herrick. He described the night in the woods in detail. “I let Daisy go,” he said. “I know that may not be what you wanted, but I don’t think she can hurt you anymore.”

Nina snorted at that, but didn’t say anything, a contemplative look on her face.

“So what’s the point?” said George. “What do you want us to do now? You-you betrayed us, Mitchell.”

Mitchell nodded.

“I know, I’m not looking for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I’m…fickle. It's all about expediency with me. It's only skin deep. The vampires were pissing me off so I threw my lot in with humanity. They betray me…and I get on that train."

Annie sucked in a breath, but didn’t say anything. Mitchell didn’t want to look at her so he kept his gaze burning on George.

"So, are you the villain now?" asked Nina from beside him.

Mitchell smiled and shook his head.

"I always was."

“Then, what-what are you going to do about it?” asked George, in a studiously casual voice.

“I want you to stake me,” Mitchell said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“What!” asked Annie.

George started sputtering.

“You want George to stake you?” asked Nina, looking incredibly annoyed. “If you’re going to do it, why can’t you do it yourself?”

“George has to do it,” Mitchell said steadily, now that the worst was over. “I’ve corrupted all of you, but George most of all.”

Nina’s face twitched.

"You inscrutable bas- You can't do it yourself because it won't provide enough anguish! You've been killing for nearly a hundred years. All this bloodshed and turmoil, it's become your currency. Even suicide has to be some shared bloody trauma."

“Nina,” said George in a low voice.

She looked at him and then quieted, biting her lip. George squared his shoulders and looked at Mitchell.

"What do you see when you look at me?"

"A friend."

"That's good," said George.

"A werewolf," continued Mitchell.

“Right.”

“I want to tear your spine out with my teeth,” Mitchell said.

It was true and not true. Some instinct inside him was still conditioned to be afraid of what George or someone like him could do to him, especially the part that had been told a werewolf was going to kill him. Somehow making the prophecy come true was oddly self-fulfilling.

“You know the prophecy doesn’t have to come true, right?” asked Annie. “I told you last night, I told you I killed the man who made it. It wasn’t even about you.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s not about that now, Annie. It’s about me. I am wrong and I am what needs to go.”

"What you're asking me to do…" said George.

"Could be heroic. George Sands saves the world," said Mitchell half-mockingly.

“Why are you doing this?” asked George.

“I make you culpable, George,” said Mitchell. “I make you look the other way. It’s rather pathetic; you were so desperate for someone to accept you that you lived with me, a vampire and a murderer. You might as well have come with me on that train and held my coat.”

George’s eyes began to water and he glared at Mitchell, stepping forward and pushing him.

"Yeah, I can see what you're trying to do, but it won't work. Do you really want me to believe this?"

“It’s the truth,” said Mitchell, already dying inside.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” George yelled.

“Of course not,” said Mitchell, his own tears coming. “George, why the hell would I want you to hate me? But you have to do this, George. It’s the only way. The only sure way I’ll never kill again.”

“Because you’ve given up, is that it?” said George.

“I put my life in your hands,” said Mitchell, falling to his knees. “George, I don’t want to die, but how can I live knowing I could hurt you again? I could kill people. What if I’m not strong enough? Going to Herrick just proves that my true self is more selfish than the side of me that wants to prove I can be a good man.”

“You’re being a coward,” said Nina.

“Better a coward than a killer,” said Mitchell. “I want, no, I need to be punished, but I can’t do it the mortal way. It has to be this. The hunger is strong; it’s too strong for me. I’m not strong enough. It gnaws away at me, George,” Mitchell said, grasping George’s pants in his despair. “Just being awake is all it needs. It never goes away; every second of every day is a constant struggle not to tear your bloody throats out!”

George looked down at Mitchell, still clinging to him, and tears streamed down his face.

“You’re an addict,” said Nina. “What do addicts do? What do other addicts do? If they want to be clean?”

“There aren't enough AA meetings in the world,” said Mitchell. “I tried doing that and it worked for awhile but…”

“But something outside got in the way,” said Nina. “Don’t give me the excuse that it doesn’t work just because you didn’t get a chance to find out if it would. Besides, what else do addicts do? They get sponsors.”

“You wanna be my sponsor, Nina?” asked Mitchell gesturing at her. “Look at what I did to you.”

“No one’s arguing that,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Mitchell, you’re the lowest person on the planet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” asked Mitchell.

George and Annie were staring at Nina like they’d never seen her before and Mitchell could well understand their struggle.

“Because we all have demons,” said Nina softly. “Just because yours are more vile doesn’t mean that we all don’t have them. If we let you just give up…it means we’re all giving up.”

“Nina, this is different,” said Mitchell. “It’s not the being a vampire, it’s the fact that me as a vampire will never work. Not long term.”

“Long term happens to be an option here,” said Annie, speaking confidently. “Mitchell, I won’t leave you.”

“I know, Annie, but you can’t,” he said. “Oh, you can’t. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I’ve never been a big fan of men who tell me what to do,” she said lightly.

“Annie-”

“She’s not the problem,” Nina interrupted. “You are. Tell me again, what do addicts do? If you were a heroin junkie, what would we do with you? Would we kill you simply for being an addict?”

“You’re comparing two different things,” he argued, feeling irrationally angry that his biggest opponent was being his biggest supporter at the moment.

George was crying, looking away from them. Annie stood, waiting, tears on her face, but much more calm than George.

Nina was crying too, but she was facing him defiantly, face stubborn and ready for a challenge. He didn’t understand why she was fighting him on this.

“You’re sick,” she said. “You need help. We don’t let people like you out in public, but we don’t condemn them to death for existing.”

“I’ve done things that would lead any country in the world to consider capital punishment too small a thing to give me,” he said, rising to his feet and stepping closer to her.

She faced him squarely, not flinching in the slightest.

“Clean slate, starting from now. We’ve already washed over those sins so many times that to debate it now would make the last year of our life pointless. As of this moment, Mitchell, you’ve never done a bad thing in your life, but you’re still sick.”

“I’m not listening to this,” he said. “Don’t you understand, do you think I want to go away and leave you all?”

“So why, why do you try so hard?” asked George, tears coating his voice. “Mitchell, why do you keep leaving me?”

“George, I don’t- it’s not that simple. I’m who I am.”

“I’m who I am,” George said. “You’ve always said that. Now separate out the supernatural from your problem.”

“That’s your problem, George,” said Mitchell wearily. “You’re always trying to separate the wolf from yourself. You do it all the time.”

George slapped his hand down on the table and raised his voice.

“You don’t do it enough! You draw too much identity from the vampire, trying to convince yourself there’s no other way. Well, tough, you don’t get that option. I hate you so much right now.”

“I suppose making a joke about staking me won’t work,” Mitchell said.

“Bloody right it won’t,” George said. “See, your problem is that you won’t grow up. You’re older than all of us, but you’re stuck being that little boy that got eaten and now you don’t know how to behave like an adult.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Mitchell, rolling his eyes.

“You have all the arrogance of youth,” said Annie. “You never lean on anybody else’s shoulders, never really tell them the truth, never let anyone help you. Oh, you make good tries, with Josie, with us, but you never really let people in. No wonder you keep falling down.”

Mitchell had to stop and think about that for a moment. Because, really, it was true. Every time he made an attempt and came anywhere near being truly clean, it was because he had let someone else help him. Every time he failed it was because he was trying to do it all himself. What a laugh that was.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” he said weakly. “I didn’t want to put you in more danger.”

“Good job with that,” said Nina derisively. “Keeping people in the dark is the dumbest thing anyone can do, as the hole in my side can attest. Got any more good excuses rattling around in that little brain of yours?”

“We’ve forgiven you your past sins,” said Annie. “We did it when we met you, without thinking really. It wasn’t real to us. So I had to ask myself when I found out, about the train, how could I forgive you that one and any one you might commit? Well, it’s a shame, it’s wrong, but, Mitchell, the truth is I felt so horrified because I felt wronged. Even though you didn’t do it to me, I knew you when it did happen and I fooled myself into thinking you’d never do that again. But now I know that you probably will. That’s something I have to accept about myself. It doesn’t make it right, what Nina says is true. Evil is evil, no matter how much or how little or who it’s done to. I can’t tell you you’ll never kill again, I don’t think I should even ask, but what I can do is give you the option not to, the hope that you can do it.”

“It’s false hope,” said Mitchell.

“Only if you think of it that way,” said Annie.

“Annie, you told me I was on my last chance,” said Mitchell.

“That was before I truly understood what was going on,” said Annie.

“I’m evil!” protested Mitchell.

“And we’re not saints,” said George, rubbing his face. “I killed-” he broke off.

“I took Kemp without a second thought,” said Annie. Mitchell flinched, remembering how beautifully scary she had looked that night even though he’d been preoccupied with Lucy at the time. “I threw him into hell and I don’t regret it. You don’t want to know what I did in Purgatory.”

“Maybe you’d better explain that,” said Nina quietly.

Rubbing her hands together nervously Annie did just that and Mitchell felt both in awe and slightly afraid as he listened to Annie detail how she’d been practicing trying to defeat ghosts and what had happened the night she’d come to him. Then she told about how she’d gone to Purgatory while the rest of them had been in the woods and basically tore the place apart and then her further clarifying conversation with Lia last night.

It was a lot to take in and it saddened Mitchell to know that Annie had gone through that, mostly because of him. It did give him perspective though. It raised some interesting thoughts. It also bore witness to a lot of what Nina had been saying throughout their conversation. Of course Mitchell also thought it bore witness to what he’d been saying about how he’d corrupted them all.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” he said, pointing. “If Annie, someone like Annie, can do things like that, then I’ve been here too long.”

“You’re so arrogant, aren’t you?” said Nina. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? Never thinking that just possibly Annie went into this with her eyes open and did these things on her own and would have done them if she’d had another lover. Not that she should have been keeping secrets,” she continued, glaring at Annie. “A bad habit she might have picked up from you. However, I think you’re forgetting it was my life she was saving when she took Kemp.”

“But the idea she would even think it was okay…” began Mitchell.

“Excuse me, I am in the room,” said Annie, raising her hand. “And, yes, Mitchell, you’ve opened my eyes to a lot of things and taught me a lot and influenced me in ways I probably don’t even know, but if you want to have a competition about who’s influenced me in the darker arts the most, I think you’d lose.”

“We’re all, we’ve all got it…the darkness,” said George. “Oh, I could rip you apart right now with no moon in sight, Mitchell, I hate you so much for trying to leave me, for letting that happen to Nina. But, the point is, we all have it.”

“I have it,” said Nina, jabbing at her chest.

Mitchell looked from one to the other of the three of them.

“I don’t suppose you’d allow that it’s me that made you three that way.”

“Death made us that way,” said Annie.

“Didn’t you tell me that not all souls are good?” said George. “That we’re a mixed bag? Well, we got handed opportunities and powers and ways of life that just make the choices a little bit harder than they used to be. All of us struggle with the darkness inside, yours is just a little bit more dramatic, a little bit more public, a little bit more every day.”

“So I should just be allowed to go out and do these things?” asked Mitchell. “No, please, no. I can’t use the excuse that it’s not my fault anymore, don’t make me.”

“No, it’s your fault,” said Nina. “But you didn’t exactly have good friends.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

“Now you do,” said Annie. “Mitchell, we have to help each other, it’s only by banding together that we can retain our humanity. For all of us, not just for you. You’re too used to handling everything on your own, but we need your help and you need ours. Let your pride admit that.”

“To hell with my pride,” he said. “I’m worried about lives, your lives.”

“You just don’t want to have to admit you failed again,” said Nina. “If you give up now, once and forever, then it was just because the dice was rolled against you and you lost the game. True courage is staying when it’s hard.”

“And if I mess up?” asked Mitchell.

Nina shuddered.

“Then the guilt is on all of us. We’re offering you a new way to play the game, Mitchell; if you truly play it our way, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about messing up, but if you do, I promise you I will be the first to revisit the ‘staking you’ idea.”

“It should only be the very last resort,” said Annie stubbornly. “You will have bad days, you might slip up.”

“And then you’d add more deaths to my conscience,” said Mitchell.

“No, you would,” said Annie. “What could be a worse punishment or impetus not to?”

“I don’t understand,” Mitchell said raggedly. He truly didn’t. He’d never known absolution except in small doses. To feel it in waves coming from them, it was too overwhelming. “How can you forgive me? George, you said you’d walk away.”

“So you just decided to walk away first?” asked George. He shuddered, trying to bring his voice under control. “I meant it, I do mean it. I need to think about Nina and our baby first above everything else. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t need you, that I don’t want to help you. If you refuse to try, I’ll-I’ll, I will…I will stake you, but…don’t make me, please, please don’t make me.”

“Blood, it changes me,” said Mitchell, thinking out loud more than anything. “It makes my true self come to the front. When there’s blood in you, all the friends and all the choices in the world don’t matter.”

“Like you have a split personality,” said George. “In the kitchen, it was like you were two different people.”

“Maybe I was,” said Mitchell dully. “Your priest told me that, told me that the man I was, he didn’t recognize him. Under the blood.”

“So no blood for you then,” said Nina briskly. “Any other questions?”

“Do you even like me?” he asked.

Nina smiled.

“I like you too much, Mitchell. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. Well, that and if I don’t forgive you, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

“You told me once that if you ever forgave yourself you wouldn’t be human anymore,” said Mitchell.

“Let me worry about my own humanity,” she said bitterly. “I’m not saying I’m right, but this is what I have to do.”

“Don’t, Nina,” said Mitchell, pleading with her.

She looked at him and for the first time, almost since he’d known her, there was peace in her eyes.

“Mitchell, I will be okay,” she said. “I’ll be less okay if you leave us, if you give up. Like it or not, you’re our leader, our shining example of the struggle. Is that how you want to be remembered, the one who failed?”

“I would’ve thought it was the other way around,” he said, half-laughing.

“You’re here for your looks, not your brains,” she said simply.

Mitchell did laugh then, something inside him untwisting itself.

“I’m scared,” he admitted to them all.

Annie drew close and took his hand and he clung to it gratefully.

“Herrick,” began George. “I asked him to leave you alone once. I asked him why we couldn’t just run. Do you know what he told me?”

“Not being clairvoyant, no,” said Mitchell.

George glared at him, but that was better than weeping. Mitchell was feeling better with every second that passed, the dangerous charge of tension dissipating in the air.

“He told me you were dangerous. You had the blackest heart of them all. If you could change, then nobody should ever know, because if they did, then that would bring them hope. If you could change, so could anyone. To even have the desire to change was a miracle, Mitchell. You did what Herrick couldn’t even imagine doing. That shows…strength.”

Mitchell turned his head away, pointlessly perhaps since he’d been weeping in front of them almost the whole conversation.

“I mean it,” he said. “I want you to stake me if something goes wrong. But…but I’m willing to try. I’m willing to help and be helped. I don’t want to leave you, any of you. I don’t want to die, but I’m ready to die if I need to.”

“That sounds very promising,” said Nina.

"Thank you. All of you. You make me human,” he said simply.

“We make each other human,” said Annie, squeezing his hand and reaching up to caress his cheek. “Who’s for tea?”

“Annie, can you make it with your hands?” asked George, putting his arm around Nina.

“It tastes just as good when I don’t,” argued Annie. “And then I can do more things at once.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said George.

Annie laughed and rent-a-ghosted into the kitchen. George and Nina followed, presenting a united force. Mitchell took a deep breath and followed.

Guess he wouldn’t be dying today after all. He could handle that, especially after spending so much time trying not to die.

First he had to wrap his head around what they were trying to say. Somehow, without any prior consultation between the three of them, at least he didn’t think there had been, they’d managed to come to the conclusion that his life was worth saving. The thought humbled him and he vowed he would honor their evaluation of his character. But not by himself; no, those days were done. The time had come for him to quit trying to do everything by himself, to stop sashaying between brooding immortal and joyriding youth, and to build himself a lasting foundation in this world. He’d spent too long thinking of himself as different and special and unique. He needed to see himself as part of a group, a family unit, not just a shepherd or a leader, able to cut and run when things got hard.

He was in it for the long haul. For the first time in eternity, he was planning on staying forever and it didn’t scare him.