The Eve of…

He won't survive another transformation.

Hal looks down at his friend as he tightens the final strap around one frail wrist and he feels the regret burn inside of him.

He looks so weak lying on the bed. His body is shrunken; devastated by old age and the monthly ordeals that he has to suffer. He can barely breathe; he struggles with every single aspect of his life.

He is old. Old age has crept up upon his friend and slowly it is stealing him away from him.

Hal can't fight against an enemy he can't see, not when his own very existence goes against the grain.

He has over four centuries on Leo but he looks young enough to be his grandson.

He looks down at his friend and he sees the mask slip very slightly. He sees that glimmer of uncertainty, of pure white hot fear but just as quickly it is gone, replaced by that ever present reassurance. Hal can see behind Leo's mask, he's had long enough to be able to.

He knows it too.

Hal straightens up and he glances across at Pearl who stands opposite him across the double bed. He sees the worry mirrored in her eyes and he looks back at Leo.

"I'll see you in the morning." His tone belies his fear. He'll unfasten him from his ties and Pearl will bring him tea and toast and they'll hover nervously until he's recovered fully, however long it may take.

He closes the bedroom door and turns his head and sees the expression on Pearl's face. She's just as worried as he is and just as reluctant to share it with him. To say it out loud makes it all the more real.

"He'll be okay, a bit achy tomorrow but he'll be as right as rain in no time." she tells him and he slowly nods.

"He will be, Leo is tenacious." he replies though his voice lacks conviction.

He flinches when he hears Leo cry out, as the ritual begins with its unerring sense of timing and cruelty. He turns his head as Pearl materialises beside him and he isn't angered by her intrusion. Instead he offers her a small smile of understanding and watches as she walks to his neatly made bed and sits down on it. She rests her hands primly in her lap and she waits.

Neither of them speak to each other, it's another monthly ritual. Pearl waits while Hal takes out his dominoes and slowly and carefully begins to arrange them on the table adjacent to his bed. He deliberately doesn't look at her, choosing to pour all of his will, all of his concentration into his small worn ivory rectangles that he arranges with practice and dexterity into their familiar spiral pattern.

They remain like that through the night, tense and coiled while in the next room Leo undergoes such terrible trials of pain and suffering. It's hard for Hal not to react and once or twice the tension has threatened to become too much. The glances he's sneaked in Pearl's direction have seen her equally uptight with her eyes squeezed tightly closed, her lips moving silently in prayer.

It comforts him slightly. God needs to look down kindly on Leo now; He has long since abandoned Hal.

The sky is a new pinkish grey when Hal carefully, almost fearfully peeps his head around Leo's bedroom door. Tentatively he enters and approaches the bed. His blankets have been kicked onto the floor and his pyjamas are once more in shreds. Hal's mouth is dry with fear as he approaches his friend and he crouches down by his bed and he listens. After a moment he lifts his eyes to Pearl's more fearful ones.

"He's breathing." he murmurs quietly and he sees Pearl's shoulders sag with relief for just a moment before they straighten and she pushes past him to lean over him, stroke his forehead and fuss as only Pearl knows how to. She busies herself with picking up the blankets and getting a clean pair of pyjamas out of the chest of drawers while Hal releases him from the shackles.

Between them they make Leo more comfortable in clean fresh pyjamas, the blankets back in place. They leave him in peace, he won't wake up today.

They pass the rest of the day quietly, contemplatively. Pearl keeps herself busy cleaning and making food that Leo won't eat and in truth Hal doesn't have the stomach to indulge in either. While Leo sleeps the effects of his night off, Hal spends the time trying to return to some semblance of normality, not that such a phrase actually exists for him. He's a vampire; there is nothing normal about that. He gradually begins to unwind as the tension from the events of the full moon begin to seep from his bones.

It takes Leo three weeks to recover. He can't get out of bed for the first week He's been left further weakened and diminished by his ordeal. He pretends everything is as it should be but Hal isn't stupid. He's no fool. Leo doesn't have long and it terrifies him.

Usually Leo is the one who makes sure that there is enough petrol in the car. In today's CCTV age it will only takes one curious person to realise that Hal doesn't show up on film and to ask that first question.

Why?

So much trouble can be stirred up by the utterance of that one single word.

Hal is tense and watchful as he fills the car, finally finding a garage suitable to his exacting criteria. No one is paying him the slightest bit of attention but he doesn't let down his guard.

They are in pursuit of a…he doesn't know exactly what to call her but Leo informs them that an angel has told them that they must drive to Barry in South Wales and seek her out, a child and she and she alone will save him. The voice apparently came through the radio and that alone worries Hal slightly but Leo is insistent and here they are, in this God forsaken place looking for God only knows what.

He doesn't appreciate being threatened by the overgrown Neanderthal who stands before him brandishing a stake. He especially doesn't appreciate the look of such hostility in his eyes and feeling the sharpened end of it being pressed against his heart.

Hal feels indignation at first and then it's replaced with slow growing anger at the unfolding situation. He recognises the scent of him and the irritation increases further as it becomes stronger and more recognisable.

Werewolf.

Fucking wonderful.

Hal informs him that he will count to ten, after that he will not be responsible for his actions. After the day he has had, he doesn't care whether there will be casualties or not.

Already he can sense that changes are underway; whatever comes of this trip he knows that life will not be the same for him. It's subtle but at the same time has the potential to become cataclysmic.

It feels as though a cycle is about to come to an end and it scares him somewhat. He wants to turn around, get back in the car and return to the sanctuary that is Southend. He can talk Leo around, tell him that he's been mistaken and he'll try to think of another way that they can save him.

And then he hears the baby cry.