Broken

London 1880

October…

Gray held his breath as he watched his friend.

Will took slow steps forward, ignoring everyone but the man on the bed. His eyes flicked over the blood on Charlie's shirt as he reached the bedside. He swallowed audibly and reached a hand out, taking hold of the man's collar. When his hand touched the wet, sticky fabric, he cringed, but took a deep breath to shake off his discomfort and pulled back the cloth, exposing the fang marks, from which Charlie's blood was still flowing.

"Oh, Jesus. He's been bitten." Hobbs said.

Will looked as though the floor had been swept out from under him. Gray looked down, aching for his friend. If Charlie had been bitten then it was likely that Will's mother—

Gray started when Will shot back from the bed and headed for the door. He rushed to block Will's path holding both of his hands up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home, where else? Now get out of my way. I have to go." Will tried to push past him, but Gray held firm.

"Will—" Gray began, in a warning tone.

He was cut off abruptly when Will grabbed him by his jacket and shoved him against the wall. Gray stared at his friend, stunned, but didn't recognize the man looking back at him. Will was furious. His eyes, normally a bright blue, were dark—almost black. The sharp angles of his face were more defined from the weight he'd lost over the last few weeks, cast in shadow which made him appear more sinister somehow.

Hobbs was too taken aback to move. Will's voice gave away the panic he must be feeling, and his hands trembled as they pinned Gray to the wall.

"I have to go. Mother…I have to go. Don't try to stop me. This isn't your fight but I'm going, and so help me if you get in my way—" Will let the unspoken threat hang in the air for a few seconds then released his friend, and turned for the door.

He was gone before they could make another move to stop him. Hobbs blinked. Gray pushed off the wall Will had shoved him against and shared a glance with the other man. Never, in all their time together, had they seen Will act like that. He'd never threatened them before, no matter how mad he'd been at them.

"We have to stop him." Hobbs broke the silence. "He's running into a trap. We have to—"

He was interrupted by a loud, rasping sound from the bed. Charlie had regained consciousness, and was batting weakly at the maids trying to patch up his wounds. They'd found a second shallow stab wound in his stomach. Gray headed back to the bed and stood over Charlie, holding him down and trying to keep him calm.

"Shh, Charlie, relax, it's all right. You're safe here. They're trying to help you. You're bleeding, you were bitten, do you remember?"

Charlie nodded then winced in pain. He opened his eyes again and focused on Gray and fought to speak.

"Master…William…" He broke off, wheezing, and coughed up a little blood.

"Charlie, don't try to talk, you need to conserve your strength. The house, it was attacked yes? Just nod." Gray said, trying to get as much information as he could out of the man without weakening him too much.

Charlie nodded and opened his mouth to speak again. He coughed, winced, but shook his head when Gray tried to silence him. He took a moment and tried a second time.

"Horse escaped. I went…to find…Came back….dead…all dead…" He broke off again, struggling for more breath.

The color drained from Gray's face. He glanced up at Hobbs who looked anxious, his eyes wide and his mouth a thin line beneath his mustache. Gray leaned in to Charlie again, regaining the man's focus.

"Charlie, what about Mrs. Pratt? Is she…Is she dead?" Gray dreaded the answer he was sure was coming.

He was surprised when Charlie didn't nod, instead opting to speak again.

"A man came to the house. He said…said Master William…was hurt..."

"He got an invitation?" Gray asked, suddenly understanding.

"Angelus?" Hobbs asked, and his eyes widened when Gray gave him a look that confirmed his suspicions.

"Don't know 'bout Mrs. Pratt…Bit me…message for—"

"A message for Will." Gray finished, grimly, and Charlie nodded.

"Trap." the injured man confirmed, before collapsing back onto the pillows, exhaustion pulling his eyes closed.

Gray stood and marched towards the door. Hobbs glanced at the bed before quickly following.

"What—?" he began, before Gray cut him off.

"The Pratt household. Will's walking into a trap and if we don't catch him we're going be short a friend very soon. Get us some horses!" He shouted the order to the nearest member of staff before turning into the training room.

He grabbed stakes, knives and an axe, tossing various weapons to Hobbs as well. Fully armed, Gray led Hobbs outside where two horses were being brought from the stables.

"But I thought you said—" Hobbs began again, as Gray pushed past him to hoist himself up into the saddle of the nearest horse.

"I know, but I guess I'm just as foolhardy as the pair of you. And besides, there's a difference between heading out to hunt down that bastard for vengeance and trying to save the ones you love."

Hobbs settled into the saddle of his own horse and the two set off at a gallop, praying they'd be in time to catch Will or at least, to help him.

***

Will barely waited for his horse to slow to a halt before dropping down onto the gravel in front of his home. He stared up at it. The sky was beginning to darken slightly as evening approached. The house, usually so familiar to him, seemed different somehow. It was imposing, daring him to enter and witness the horrors inside—Will cut off that train of thought rapidly.

You're letting your fear take you over. It's a house. Your house. Your home. It can't suddenly be sinister. It's your imagination, he told himself.

However, as he reached for the handle, he found that hard to believe. He was almost positive he could sense a hum from the door; a formidable presence that grew as he opened it and stepped inside. The house was dark—too dark. Will stepped further into the entryway, casting glances around at the shadows for any sign of a threat. Everything was silent. It was as quiet as the grave. He glanced at the stairs, pitch black, in front of him. Changing his mind, he turned left instead, towards the sitting room.

His footsteps sounded incredibly loudly in his ears; each step he took made a pounding noise in his head. He felt his pulse racing. It was so unnervingly quiet that Will wanted to scream, shout, make any sort of noise just to break the silence, but he fought against the impulse. The room was devoid of life, empty, and he didn't know whether to be relieved or not at the lack of any human presence.

He noticed that the curtains were drawn. They must be that way all over the house for it to be so dark. The only light in the room came from the lit fireplace. It took him a moment to spot his mother's cane leaning against the couch. He froze.

"William, I wasn't expecting you back so soon. And in one piece too."

A sob escaped Will's throat and he turned towards the voice. He watched, awe-struck, as his mother emerged from the shadows behind him, a music box in her hands. She walked purposefully, carrying herself as a strong, proud woman, a healthy woman.

She's glowing, he thought.

Gone was the ashen hue to her skin, replaced by a light Will couldn't remember seeing coming from her in years. Her hair was rippling down her shoulders in golden waves. She walked by him and placed the music box on the mantelpiece carefully, adjusting the decorative item slightly before turning to face him, folding her hands in front of her, waiting expectantly.

"Look at you. You're glowing, Mother."

"Am I?" she asked, surprised, glancing down at her hand curiously.

Will nodded, feeling at a complete loss. The sight of her standing there, so—well, so full of—

"Life," he whispered.

Anne looked at him sharply, a smile spreading across her face. Will didn't find the comfort in it he usually did.

"What was that, William?" she asked.

"How?" William asked, his initial haze at seeing his mother wearing off, slowly replaced by trepidation.

"Oh, it's quite simple really, if a little unusual. I had a visitor, you see. Someone you probably know," she began, walking around the room at a slow pace.

Will felt his heart sink, and he reached a hand out to the couch to hold himself up, staring at the floor.

"Imagine my surprise," Anne continued, "when a man I'd never seen before called here claiming that he was a good friend of yours, and that he had news about my son, my desperately ill son. Naturally, I had him invited in, anxious to hear what had happened to you and if you were all right. Of course, you weren't really ill, were you? Well, at least not by then. Honestly, to think you almost died in that terrible fire and never told me. Shame on you, William. A mother worries, you know."

Will sat down on the couch, his head in his hands. Anne came to a halt behind him, leaning over to place a gentle hand on his head, patting his hair affectionately.

"Oh it's all right, darling. What's done is done, water under the bridge and all that. He told me you were there discussing a plan of action against demons. I thought he was mad. Demons, after all, don't actually exist. How mistaken I was. There was nothing for it but for him to show me, of course. All this time, you've been out there hunting monsters and I never even knew they were real. He proved it was no trick, killed the staff, draining the blood from their weak, human bodies.

Will was shaking. Tears started streaming down his face. Anne continued to circle him, striding around the room as she spoke, mimicking a shark assessing its prey.

"He promised me something else. He said he could make me well again, that it would be a gift. That I would be free, at last, to leave this house again. That I'd be able to live life, and all I had to do, was give mine up. My life, that miserable existence ruled by illness where my only source of comfort was a loving son. A son, who was so insistent on remaining by my side, I thought I'd never be free of his clutching hands at my apron strings. A weak, feeble, fool who spent his time writing that awful drivel he fancied poetry. My only hope was that you'd find some other fool of a woman to fawn over. That you would marry and I could finally have some peace."

"Stop it." Will said, looking up at her at last, his eyes red and his face wet.

"Look at you, sniveling away. Honestly, I find it hard to believe that I was wrong about you." She shook her head. "Only I wasn't, not at first. You've changed, William. It was that job, not just some harmless research for an unheard of company that did it. You spent your nights out there, killing those creatures, leaving your ailing mother at home. I was grateful for the time away from you of course, but it was so unlike you. And now, I discover that you've been 'protecting the innocent' of all things. A pity you weren't here to protect me, isn't it? But then I would never have been cured if you had, would I? You'd have let me go on, sitting here, letting the sickness eat away at me until there was nothing left."

"Mother—"

"Oh it's all right, William. I've been given a gift, after all. He told me you'd come to see me, that I should wait here for a second look at my son, the hero. And he was right. Here you are. The question is what do you do now? William? Are you going to protect the innocent from your dear mother?"

Will stood shakily, backing away as his mother approached. But she wasn't his mother anymore. He knew it, but comprehending it was entirely different. Anne continued to stalk towards him until she had him backed against the fireplace. She reached out to him, and he flinched.

"What's the matter, William? It's only me, your darling Mummy." She ran a hand down his cheek and the cold, clammy feel of it made Will feel sick.

"No!" He shoved her backwards and she fell back on the couch roughly.

"How dare you? You ungrateful little wretch!" She grabbed her cane and flew towards him.

Will caught it before the blow could make contact, and they struggled until he wrenched her arm sideways, bringing the cane down so hard against the mantle that it snapped, leaving a sharp point at the end. The sight of it, weapon of choice against a vampire, shocked Will. He looked at his mother and a monster gazed back at him. He had time to stare into her golden eyes and see the ridges of her brow, the glint of her fangs as she smiled at him again.

"Don't worry, William. I won't give you the same gift. Not now I'm free of you at last."

Will looked at the face before him again. He knew what he had to do.

"I'm sorry," he said, then pulled back the broken cane and thrust the stake into his mother's heart.

She gasped in shock and pain then her vampiric features melted away, revealing the face he knew so well once more. She gave him one last sad, parting smile as she faded away into dust and was gone. Will dropped the cane and it clattered to the floor. He leaned against the wall and felt his body sag. She was gone. He'd lost her. He hadn't been here and now she was gone forever.

***

Gray and Hobbs saw Will's horse grazing on the lawn nearby. They looked up at the house. Though it was dark out, there was no light coming from inside. They shared a look as they dismounted and headed to the front door. It opened with a creak and they peered inside. It was difficult to see without any light. Gray let the door swing wide and stepped inside, Hobbs following close behind.

"Will?" Gray called out, nervously.

There was no answer. They moved forward slowly, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. Making their way inward, inch by inch, they decided to check the upstairs first, feeling sure that Will's mother would likely have been confined to her bed as she had been so often of late. Keeping close to the wall they made their way up into the blackness. It was too dark to see, so Gray lit the lamps on the landing. They blinked as their eyes adjusted to the new light. Gradually making their way deeper into the house, they checked each room they passed, illuminating their path with candles and lamps, determined to banish the miserable darkness. Each and every room was empty. Once they'd checked all the rooms upstairs they made their way back down.

It was then that they saw a faint light flickering beneath the door to their right. Gray carried his axe in one hand and a stake in the other as he inched towards the door. Hobbs had his own stake in hand, keeping one eye on the shadows around them. Gray opened the door, letting it swing inward to reveal the shadowy room, the only source of light a fading fire. Slight movement out of the corner of his eye drew Gray's attention to the couch. He raised his axe a little higher and blinked as Hobbs lit the lamps, revealing the huddled shape sitting on the couch.

"Will?" Gray asked, lowering his weapons.

He could barely believe it. Will was there, and alive from what Gray could tell. But the man still hadn't looked up, even as light flooded the room, and didn't answer.

"Will?" He tried again, stepping closer.

His friend gradually became aware of his presence and raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and he squinted in the light. He took time to focus on Gray, then Hobbs. He seemed a little disoriented as he took in his surroundings. He began to stare at the floor, drifting away again. Gray dropped his axe and knelt on the floor in front of Will, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him to keep him focused.

"Will. What happened? Are you all right? Was Angelus here? Will?"

Will blinked a few times then shook his head. He continued to shake his head as he ran his trembling hands through his hair, looking down again.

"Damn it man, talk! What happened?" Gray shook Will a little harder.

"She was here, Gray. She was here, but it wasn't her. Not anymore. Wasn't her. She's gone." Will choked out, shaking his head again.

"Who was here? Will?"

"Mother. She was—" He swallowed sharply. "She was a vampire, Gray. Angelus turned her and left her here for me to find. I had to stake her."

Gray leaned back and watched Will run his hands through his hair again. He looked back at Hobbs.

"We should check the rest of the house. Charlie said Angelus killed the others but we need to be certain she was the only one he turned."

Hobbs nodded and backed out of the room. Gray turned to Will again and waited for his friend to acknowledge him.

"Will, we're going to check the house, then we need to leave, understand? You can't stay here. We'll go back to the estate now, all right? Regroup."

Will nodded wearily. Gray gave him another concerned look then picked up his axe and followed Hobbs. Most of the house was empty. They found the bodies piled on top of each other in a bloody heap on the floor in the servants' quarters. They had been drained completely. Charlie was the only member of staff who'd survived and even then it was touch and go for him when they'd left.

Angelus hadn't bothered siring household staff. He hadn't even wanted them for minions. He had enough of his own already. Mrs. Pratt had been his grand plan, a surprise for the man who had taken up his interest. While they moved through the house, extinguishing the light they had brought to the gloomy scene of Will's latest torment, they discussed what they could do now, and what would become of their friend.

"This will break him, won't it?" Hobbs asked, as he closed another door to a newly darkened room.

"He's lost the last family tie he had left. I don't know what that's going to do to him, but it won't be good. I think our biggest problem now is that Angelus knows we're alive, and that he's determined to finish Will off more than he is any of us."

"But why? Why focus on him? If he wants the Hunters destroyed, why not come after all of us? Why attack Mrs. Pratt?"

"You're forgetting who we're dealing with, Hobbs. Angelus loves to torment his victims. It's no fun if he doesn't torture them first and take away everything they love, everything that means anything to them. He always goes for the family first. Will survived two attempts on his life. He's known as the best Hunter in London. Angelus has been testing him, and so far Will is passing. Tonight he was upping the ante. He turned Mrs. Pratt instead of killing her because it would hurt Will more to make him kill his own mother instead of finding her dead. He's forced Will to do something he should never have had to do. It was another test, to judge him."

"What do you mean?" Hobbs asked, stopping.

Grey stopped also, not wanting to have this conversation where Will could hear them.

"Will's mother was dying, Hobbs. She had months left at best. Angelus killed her, but he left behind a creature that looked like her, talked like her, and had all her memories. Will's greatest wish would have been for his mother to recover from that illness, even though it was impossible. For the first time in years, she was well again, but it was a monster wearing her face. He could have let her live and she would more than likely have killed him. Instead, he did the right thing, and took her second chance to live in this world away."

"That creature wasn't his mother." Hobbs stated.

"No. She wasn't. Will knew that, but it was all that was left of her, and he had to kill her."

Will was in the same position they'd left him in. He didn't complain or struggle when they pulled him to his feet and led him out of the house. He just followed along like a lost child. He was silent the entire journey back to the estate. When they reached what they hoped would remain a safe haven for now, Will went to bed, exhaustion finally taking its toll as the drive for vengeance he'd been relying on finally petered out, distress and loss taking its place. Hobbs and Gray checked in on Charlie to find that he was alive and resting before heading off to bed themselves. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and they had no idea what state Will would be in when he woke the next morning.

***

"I still say it's a lot of trouble to go to for one man. If it was a Slayer, well I could understand, but this Hunter is just a mere mortal. No powers, not chosen, nothing special about him at all. It seems like a lot of wasted effort on your part when we should be bathing this city in blood."

Angelus watched Darla run the brush through her shimmering blonde hair again as she sat on the edge of the bed. He lay fully reclined on the luxurious bed, hands behind his head as he observed her. His Darla was a beauty, but she didn't understand his passion for artistry. Time and patience were required for the sweetest torment to his victims. He could thrive on their screams and pleas for days before he gave them the end they so desired. This Hunter would be one of his greatest achievements, second only to the masterpiece that was his Drusilla.

"Daddy doesn't want to kill him until he knows what makes the pretty Hunter tick."

Angelus grinned as his childe swayed across the floor to her own rhythm, watching her hands float through the air as she raised her arms above her head.

"Dru's right, my sweet. I've heard a lot about this boy. T'would seem a shame for me to kill him so easily. Besides, he's already escaped two of my traps so far. He might just be worth the effort in the end."

"If he survives your latest game you mean." Darla ceased brushing her hair and turned to look at him again. "Poor boy, his frail old mother's been given new life by a demon, and he's the one who must end it."

"If he's as righteous as they say he is, he'll survive, and if he's worth his title as London's greatest Hunter, he'll come after me."

"Then will you kill him? So we can finally enjoy ourselves here instead of concentrating on one worthless little life?"

Angelus reached out a hand and grabbed a fistful of Darla's hair as she leaned over him, jerking her roughly down to hover inches above his face. She merely smiled in response, her dark eyes twinkling in the lamplight.

"I'll kill him when I'm good and ready, don't you worry. Until then, we can have plenty of fun doing what we've been doing. Or have you forgotten that theatre I took you both to the other night? Where we drank the blood of the rich in the best seats in the house with a show to watch? Or the comfortable accommodation I acquired for us here in the home of his Lordship?" Angelus gestured to the prone body on the floor beside them, the previous resident of their room at the Royal London Hotel.

"Of course not, but it's been so long since we had a good massacre. Don't you think it's time we really made our mark on this city? With the Hunters dead there's nothing to stop us."

"Except not all of the Hunters are dead. Once they are, I'll treat you to a grand massacre and we'll feast for days. This city will remember the tragedy we'll bring to it for centuries to come."

Darla grinned at that and lowered herself for a kiss. Angelus kissed her savagely, drawing blood from her lip which he sucked on greedily before leaning back and releasing her, licking his lips. Darla smiled lazily, like a cat, before sitting back up to resume brushing her hair.

"The handsome prince is sad, but destiny's coming for him. He'll have a new mummy soon, and we can all have a tea party in celebration. He is special you know. He's going to change the world."

Both vampires turned to look at the dark-haired Drusilla as she giggled madly, spinning around in circles that made them dizzy just watching her.

"Must she do that?" Darla asked, irritated.

"Dru has her fun and you have yours. Leave her be, Darla. Besides, she usually means more of what she says than any sane person."

"So you know what she's rambling on about then?" Darla asked skeptically.

"Not all the time." Angelus admitted gruffly, watching his childe continue to spin around the room. "But when it matters I do. It all comes to mean something eventually."