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Fic: Are you my destiny (being human)

Title: Are you my destiny
Rating: R for violence and nastiness
Pairing: none. George and Mitchell
Disclaimer: They're not mine, they're Toby Whithouse's. But I don't think he would ever treat them so badly.
Warnings: Where to begin... This is a horrible fic. Contains character death, violence, intimidation. Very dark AU. Also spoiler for the beginning of ep6.
Summary: What might have happened at George and Mitchell's first meeting, if Mitchell had had a really bad day.
A/N 1: I'm really sorry! Writing this made me a bit upset at times, so maybe don't read if you're feeling shaky...
A/N 2: For some reason I've had the Nick Cave song "are you the one that I've been waiting for" going through my head the whole time I've been writing this, it kind of fits, in a twisted way.


George is bewildered as the men crowd around him, circling, menacing, sensing his weakness. Their taunts are confusing and his normally sharp mind is fogged by fear, and he can see no way out of this. When the first punch comes, straight to the stomach, swift and sickening, it’s almost a relief, because at least now he knows how this is going to go. He sags forward and gives himself up to the beating.


Striding towards the cafe, Mitchell is in a foul mood. He’s hungry. Two months now without feeding, and two months of enduring Seth’s ridiculous jibes. Two months of hanging on by the tips of his fingers, the abyss of his own cruelty gaping beneath him. He aches to let go.


If he’d thought about it at all, George would have thought that you’d get used to the pain after a while. But it turns out that every new kick to his torso is a fresh agony. He’s probably crying, but it’s hard to tell through all the blood.

From his desperate foetal position on the cold tarmac, he hears footsteps approaching, and then a voice-

“Whoa! Whoa!”- and suddenly, miraculously, beautifully, the men stop kicking him. Salvation.


Mitchell looks at the sorry crew of vampires in front of him and curls his lip. He’s been waiting for a chance to lord his authority over Seth, to remind him exactly where they stand in relation to one another, and here it is.

“He’s a lyco, man,” one of Seth’s cronies protests. Mitchell knows that, he can smell it, but he argues them down, getting into Seth’s space. Even with his hands still in his coat pockets he radiates menace. He wonders if the others can feel the desperation pouring off him.


George doesn’t dare raise his head until the men have gone. Blinking up at his saviour, he wonders dimly what sort of a man this is, to scare away such connoisseurs of violence. He wipes a hand over his face and shakily pushes up to a sitting position.


Mitchell steps closer and stands over the battered body sprawled in a pitiful heap on the ground. He breaths in and can smell the tainted blood. Poor bastard, he thinks coldly.

He holds the guy’s glasses out to him, just beyond reach, and pale blue eyes blink at him, pathetically grateful.

“They were going to kill me,” the guy half yelps, and Mitchell nods.



Mitchell snorts and waggles the glasses impatiently. “Why not?”

The boy on the floor reaches tentatively for his specs and Mitchell pulls his hand back, smirking.


George watches as this beautiful, terrifying man drops his glasses to the floor and grinds them under his boot. Somehow he still believes that everything will be ok; this stranger rescued him, didn’t he?

“Get up,” the man tells him, and it’s not a request. He finds his legs stumbling to obey, despite the pain.


Mitchell can’t stand the hope in the lyco’s eyes. How stupid can he be? He takes a pace forward and the guy stumbles back against the wall.

“What do you want? Who are you?” His voice is shaky and hoarse from the beating.

“Vampire,” says Mitchell, keeping his voice cool. The guy splutters, looks disbelieving, and then Mitchell smiles, slow and tired, and shows his fangs.


George can’t help it; he wets himself. The man looming over him looks disgusted and contemptuous, as though George is just making things difficult for him. Something in the back of George’s mind is screaming that this can’t be happening, that yes obviously werewolves exist but what about Occam’s Razor, surely it’s more likely that this bloke is just a psycho with a liking for fancy dress? But one look into those deep, dark eyes is all the convincing he needs.

The vampire reaches out to George’s lip and dips a finger in his congealing blood. He moves it to his own mouth and sucks. It’s faintly obscene.


“Ugh, Jesus,” Mitchell grimaces as he tastes the werewolf blood. His voice drops to a snarl. “You’re disgusting, do you know that?”

But deep down he’s grateful for the taint, for the opportunity it presents to him. This is an animal cowering before him, not a human with a life and people left behind to mourn. And though the blood might make him sick to his stomach, he’ll tell himself he’s just putting this poor dumb beast out of its misery.

The guy whimpers, a beaten, primal groan that to Mitchell’s ears only makes him sound more in need of euthanasia. “But... but you saved me!”

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, suddenly bored of all this, and steps in close to pin the guy against the wall. He bares his fangs and bites down hard.


After a few seconds George stops struggling. He remembers reading that drowning is a pleasant death, if there can be such a thing, because once you surrender to the inevitable and inhale the water, you feel a great rush of euphoria as all that dissolved oxygen hits your brain. He knows, dimly, that this pleasure fizzing through his veins is all wrong, but he can’t quite find the will to fight it. He feels like he’s been waiting for this his whole life. And then it all goes black.


Mitchell drops the body and steps back, chest heaving. Bile rises in his throat.

His footsteps ring out down the alleyway, but there’s no one left to hear them.


( 20 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 27th, 2009 10:43 pm (UTC)
:o I can see why writing this made you so upset.

Very good though.
May. 27th, 2009 10:53 pm (UTC)
Yeah, hopefully it's out of my system now.

thankyou for not hating it *hugs*
May. 27th, 2009 10:55 pm (UTC)
I never hate good writing *hugs back* It is an interesting look at thing if Mitchell hadn't felt any sympathy for George. I quite like it, does that make me weird?
May. 27th, 2009 10:59 pm (UTC)
no, it's not that that makes you weird! lol :-P

but no, at least I hope it doesn't make you weird cos then what would it make me?!
May. 27th, 2009 11:03 pm (UTC)
lol yeah I think you're right there. :)
May. 27th, 2009 10:53 pm (UTC)
Oh God... evil!Mitchell.

I think it was the crushing of the glasses that did it for me, it was such an innocent sign in the episode a sign on acceptance and this is... so terribly dark.

He feels like he’s been waiting for this his whole life. And then it all goes black.

Oh ouch, poor George.

Oh Mitchell This is an animal cowering before him, not a human with a life and people left behind to mourn.

I think you've killed me.

I can't get dark!Mitchell out of my head!

And what an excellent fic!!!

Edited at 2009-05-27 10:53 pm (UTC)
May. 27th, 2009 11:03 pm (UTC)
Thanks, I'm really glad I got a few positive responses so soon after posting it because I was feeling bad about the whole thing!
The idea started with an image of Mitchell crushing George's glasses that just popped into my head- weird.
Glad you liked and apologies for killing you!
May. 27th, 2009 11:11 pm (UTC)
A few? This story is brilliant in the oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-you-did-that kind of way.
And yes feel bad, but I spend almost all of my fic writing time trying to kill George (and never quite managing it (I love him really)) so you've set me a benchmark.

And oh, it's the glasses that have broken my heart, they were a symbol of peace and unity and friendship and acceptence and... reduced to wire and glass, in a dirty backalley awash with blood.

And the whole animal/human thing. So painful. The idea of being a pet a creature rather than human. And having tainted blood. And I really need to get some sleep...

I'll be having nightmares about evil!Mitchell now... And you're forgiven for killing me... I think. *covers neck*

And Lord's aren't I gushing?

That icon is not right for this fic... it'll have to be George in pain again.

Edited at 2009-05-27 11:12 pm (UTC)
May. 27th, 2009 11:35 pm (UTC)
*is very flattered*

yes, I've noticed your attempts to kill George! I read the human chronicles with my heart in my mouth... I liked it.

Ok don't have nightmares! Read some fluff first :-)
May. 28th, 2009 07:59 am (UTC)

I've never quite managed it have I? It's annoying, One day he'll die. I just love him too much and Ang has too strong a influence.

I had nightmares :-P
(Deleted comment)
May. 27th, 2009 11:04 pm (UTC)
Thanks :-) I'm feeling reassured now.
George is just so helpless without his glasses...
(Deleted comment)
May. 27th, 2009 11:38 pm (UTC)
don't worry you make sense :-)

Yes george is definitely a bit like a pet, especially at first. But I think if Mitchell actually had killed George at this point, he would have done himself just as much damage as George, because he's just lost something that he never even knew he could have, if that makes sense. George is like Mitchell's constant, and he's never going to find another is he?
May. 28th, 2009 04:38 am (UTC)

sooooo dark, but beautiful... i can see why you found it disturbing, because it *is* disturbing... but this could have happened if george and mitchell had happened to meet at a worse time in mitchell's life... very well done, love, loved it ;)
May. 28th, 2009 08:44 pm (UTC)
Thankyou, I'm really glad you liked it as you're such a connoisseur of dark yourself!
May. 28th, 2009 06:18 pm (UTC)
That was brave of you, to step up and take a look at the 'underside' of the Vampire/Werewolf thing with these two. And now you've done it, you needn't look again... don't kill George... OK? *looks meaningfully at you*
Now that's out of the way, too, I must congratulate you on a gripping story :) (I'm not conflicted - I have _layers_, *grins*)
May. 28th, 2009 08:41 pm (UTC)
Go with the Walt Whitman defence- "do I contradict myself?/ very well then I contradict myself/ I am large, I contain multitudes"
Yes, I don't think I need to go there again, at least for a while! Thankyou for commenting, as ever :-)
Jun. 11th, 2009 07:57 pm (UTC)


This was pretty awesome, i mean. dark Mitchell .... *shivers*
Jun. 12th, 2009 09:48 pm (UTC)
I do love a bit of dark mitchell... but maybe he should keep his hands off George in future.

Glad you liked it! :-)
Jun. 23rd, 2009 12:22 pm (UTC)
Oh hunny that was utterly BRILLIANT! *hug*
Jun. 23rd, 2009 10:12 pm (UTC)
aw thanks! *hugs back*
( 20 comments — Leave a comment )