Tears Fall In Forgotten Corners - Chapter Four
Title: Tears Fall In Forgotten Corners (Chapter 4/???)
Fandom: Being Human
Pairings: Not really. Mitchell/Lauren and George/Nina in later chapters. But nothing that isn't cannon in the show. A tiny bit of Annie/Mitchell is beginning to creep in. But there's not going to be anything definite. :P
Warnings: Angst, AU
Summary: A look at what things would have been like if Annie had know that Owen killed her from the start. Spoilers for the whole of season one.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to the BBC and Toby Whithouse. I'm just stealing and playing with.
Authors note: Please review I like reviews they're good. :) But no flamers please. Thanks to
debut_track for betaing. :)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Mitchell walked into the living room hunting around for his jacket. If he didn't hurry then he would be late for work. Not a good idea after missing half of it the previous day due to being in the toilets fighting his blood cravings. Mitchell cringed as he remembered trying to explain that little episode to his boss.
The jacket was irritatingly hard to locate. It was always the way. When he was late there was something missing that he wouldn't be able to find. Of course if he was early then, inevitably, he'd find everything straight away and be left drumming his fingers.
After a few minutes of looking everywhere in the living room he found it lying on the floor behind the tv. Wondering how the hell it had gotten there, he picked it up dislodging a mug of tea that was hidden underneath the jacket. The cold liquid spilled out coating both the jacket and the floor beneath it. He cursed trying to brush down his jacket. He was going to have a hard time getting all the tea off. The jacket was completely coated. There was no way he was going to be able to wear it today.
"George!" He yelled up the stairs.
There was a muffled groan.
Mitchell growled under his breath and launched himself up the stairs taking them two at a time. He swung into George's bedroom and shook him roughly.
"What?" George mumbled. "I thought you had to be in work early today." He turned over trying to ignore Mitchell as best as he could.
"Yeah I do. And I would be if it wasn't for you." Mitchell snarled, shaking George as hard as he could. Why the hell wouldn’t he just wake up and have a decent conversation with him?
George sat up and looked at him, his gaze confused. "I haven't done anything..."
"You left your tea lying around and I spilt it all over my jacket."
"Mitchell I haven't had a cup of tea in days." George frowned he rubbed his hands over his face.
"Great. Old tea all over my leather jacket."
"I washed up all my cups Mitchell. I always do the washing up. You know this. You, you complain about it all the time."
"Well you must have forgotten about it." Mitchell glared at George. He couldn’t believe that George was just sitting there when there was tea all over his favourite jacket. "How else can you explain it?"
"I don't know. Let me sleep Mitchell." George flopped back down onto the bed and buried his head back into his pillow.
Mitchell scowled and went to get a new jacket from his room.
* * *
Silently, Annie gazed out of the window. Below she could see Mitchell getting into his car. It was lucky that he had thought that the tea belonged to George. Though there wasn't really any other conclusion he could come to. George was the only other person who lived in the house. She had to remember that.
Still she would have to be more careful from now on. She was beginning to like these two a bit. Anyway, even if she was going to scare them off then she would have to make sure that every move was planned. They would be much harder to scare than the young couple. One wrong move could ruin it all.
George was still in his room fast asleep. Like he was ignoring the world. It was rather dull really. Annie felt she had nothing to do. Watching the guys had become her new favourite pastime. But whenever they were in the house it meant that she couldn't make tea, her other favourite pastime. So there wasn't much to do. Even the tv was out of bounds. It would make a sound and alert George to the fact that she was there. Not a good idea. Not since she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to scare them away at all.
So there really wasn't anything she could do to amuse herself. She drifted slowly from room to room. Her hand trailed lightly on the wall as she passed. It was weird. She could feel the different textures of the wallpaper but it wasn't quite there. Like she was touching it through fabric and it muffled the texture slightly. It was times like this that reminded her that she was dead. Not a reminder she particularly wanted.
There was a sound from behind her and George appeared from his room and shuffled into the bathroom. Annie disappeared and reappeared in the kitchen. She dropped into one of the chairs at the small table and rested her head in her hands as she waited for him to come down. If she was lucky he'd have time for breakfast before he left so she'd be able to watch him eat for a bit.
He appeared ten minutes later his hair slightly damp from the shower. Though he was up and moving he looked like he still wasn't quite awake. Annie stayed where she was, keeping as still as she could whilst she watched him eat and then go through the routine to leave. Soon he was gone just like Mitchell and she was left on her own again.
* * *
Mitchell sat in the canteen staring at the paper cup in front of him. If that cup of tea hadn't been George's then who had it belonged to? It didn't make sense. He knew it wasn't his. So how could it have gotten there. His mind drifted back to the story that the estate agent had told them when showing them around the house. The one about the girl that had died.
That would make more sense. If the house was haunted then the ghost could have been the one to leave the tea there. That had to be the cause, there was no other explanation. But then if so, why hadn't he or George seen her? He'd encountered ghosts before and knew for a fact that supernaturals could see them, even if humans didn't.
She must be hiding. Dying was a traumatic experience. Hell, he'd been there. And he'd had people around him to help him get through the first stages. Yeah they were evil bloodsucking vampires, literally, but at least they were something. This ghost, Annie was it? He made a mental note to look up the name. She'd had no one there for her. Since she had died she'd been alone. That alone would be traumatic for most people. The fact that she was dead made it even worse.
So all he had to do was show her that he would help her. If he could convince her to stop hiding in the shadows then things would go better for her. That would be the best thing to do. As soon as he got home he would try and talk to her. It would be harder whilst she was hiding. She probably wouldn't even stay in the same room as them when they were home. But he would have to try. He had to do whatever he could to help her.
* * *
Annie sat in her room, a cup of tea cooling beneath her fingers. The afternoon seemed to have dragged on. She was on at least her fifth or sixth cup. She wasn't quite sure. It wasn't like she kept track these days. The mugs collected up next to her and the day went on. The clock ticking slowly. Clock watching wasn't as fun as George and Mitchell watching. At least George and Mitchell did interesting things. The clock just went round and round.
There was the sound of a door shutting from downstairs. Annie looked up. She thought that the neither of the boys would be back until late tonight. She must have been wrong. It was easily done. She was still getting used to the guys schedules.
Scrambling around she pushes the tea mugs into the corner, hiding them as best she could underneath an old sheet. It wasn't that good a hiding place. If either of the guys came in then they would see them immediately. Luckily they didn't come in here that often. It was just the spare room.
Once that was done she crept downstairs to see who had come in. It was Mitchell. He slipped his jacket off and chucked it over the sofa arm. Annie lurked in the door way watching him.
He sat down gently and waited for a moment before speaking. His tone remained soft, the Irish drawl making it sound even softer. "Annie. Are you here?"
Chapter Five
Fandom: Being Human
Pairings: Not really. Mitchell/Lauren and George/Nina in later chapters. But nothing that isn't cannon in the show. A tiny bit of Annie/Mitchell is beginning to creep in. But there's not going to be anything definite. :P
Warnings: Angst, AU
Summary: A look at what things would have been like if Annie had know that Owen killed her from the start. Spoilers for the whole of season one.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to the BBC and Toby Whithouse. I'm just stealing and playing with.
Authors note: Please review I like reviews they're good. :) But no flamers please. Thanks to
debut_track for betaing. :)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Mitchell walked into the living room hunting around for his jacket. If he didn't hurry then he would be late for work. Not a good idea after missing half of it the previous day due to being in the toilets fighting his blood cravings. Mitchell cringed as he remembered trying to explain that little episode to his boss.
The jacket was irritatingly hard to locate. It was always the way. When he was late there was something missing that he wouldn't be able to find. Of course if he was early then, inevitably, he'd find everything straight away and be left drumming his fingers.
After a few minutes of looking everywhere in the living room he found it lying on the floor behind the tv. Wondering how the hell it had gotten there, he picked it up dislodging a mug of tea that was hidden underneath the jacket. The cold liquid spilled out coating both the jacket and the floor beneath it. He cursed trying to brush down his jacket. He was going to have a hard time getting all the tea off. The jacket was completely coated. There was no way he was going to be able to wear it today.
"George!" He yelled up the stairs.
There was a muffled groan.
Mitchell growled under his breath and launched himself up the stairs taking them two at a time. He swung into George's bedroom and shook him roughly.
"What?" George mumbled. "I thought you had to be in work early today." He turned over trying to ignore Mitchell as best as he could.
"Yeah I do. And I would be if it wasn't for you." Mitchell snarled, shaking George as hard as he could. Why the hell wouldn’t he just wake up and have a decent conversation with him?
George sat up and looked at him, his gaze confused. "I haven't done anything..."
"You left your tea lying around and I spilt it all over my jacket."
"Mitchell I haven't had a cup of tea in days." George frowned he rubbed his hands over his face.
"Great. Old tea all over my leather jacket."
"I washed up all my cups Mitchell. I always do the washing up. You know this. You, you complain about it all the time."
"Well you must have forgotten about it." Mitchell glared at George. He couldn’t believe that George was just sitting there when there was tea all over his favourite jacket. "How else can you explain it?"
"I don't know. Let me sleep Mitchell." George flopped back down onto the bed and buried his head back into his pillow.
Mitchell scowled and went to get a new jacket from his room.
* * *
Silently, Annie gazed out of the window. Below she could see Mitchell getting into his car. It was lucky that he had thought that the tea belonged to George. Though there wasn't really any other conclusion he could come to. George was the only other person who lived in the house. She had to remember that.
Still she would have to be more careful from now on. She was beginning to like these two a bit. Anyway, even if she was going to scare them off then she would have to make sure that every move was planned. They would be much harder to scare than the young couple. One wrong move could ruin it all.
George was still in his room fast asleep. Like he was ignoring the world. It was rather dull really. Annie felt she had nothing to do. Watching the guys had become her new favourite pastime. But whenever they were in the house it meant that she couldn't make tea, her other favourite pastime. So there wasn't much to do. Even the tv was out of bounds. It would make a sound and alert George to the fact that she was there. Not a good idea. Not since she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to scare them away at all.
So there really wasn't anything she could do to amuse herself. She drifted slowly from room to room. Her hand trailed lightly on the wall as she passed. It was weird. She could feel the different textures of the wallpaper but it wasn't quite there. Like she was touching it through fabric and it muffled the texture slightly. It was times like this that reminded her that she was dead. Not a reminder she particularly wanted.
There was a sound from behind her and George appeared from his room and shuffled into the bathroom. Annie disappeared and reappeared in the kitchen. She dropped into one of the chairs at the small table and rested her head in her hands as she waited for him to come down. If she was lucky he'd have time for breakfast before he left so she'd be able to watch him eat for a bit.
He appeared ten minutes later his hair slightly damp from the shower. Though he was up and moving he looked like he still wasn't quite awake. Annie stayed where she was, keeping as still as she could whilst she watched him eat and then go through the routine to leave. Soon he was gone just like Mitchell and she was left on her own again.
* * *
Mitchell sat in the canteen staring at the paper cup in front of him. If that cup of tea hadn't been George's then who had it belonged to? It didn't make sense. He knew it wasn't his. So how could it have gotten there. His mind drifted back to the story that the estate agent had told them when showing them around the house. The one about the girl that had died.
That would make more sense. If the house was haunted then the ghost could have been the one to leave the tea there. That had to be the cause, there was no other explanation. But then if so, why hadn't he or George seen her? He'd encountered ghosts before and knew for a fact that supernaturals could see them, even if humans didn't.
She must be hiding. Dying was a traumatic experience. Hell, he'd been there. And he'd had people around him to help him get through the first stages. Yeah they were evil bloodsucking vampires, literally, but at least they were something. This ghost, Annie was it? He made a mental note to look up the name. She'd had no one there for her. Since she had died she'd been alone. That alone would be traumatic for most people. The fact that she was dead made it even worse.
So all he had to do was show her that he would help her. If he could convince her to stop hiding in the shadows then things would go better for her. That would be the best thing to do. As soon as he got home he would try and talk to her. It would be harder whilst she was hiding. She probably wouldn't even stay in the same room as them when they were home. But he would have to try. He had to do whatever he could to help her.
* * *
Annie sat in her room, a cup of tea cooling beneath her fingers. The afternoon seemed to have dragged on. She was on at least her fifth or sixth cup. She wasn't quite sure. It wasn't like she kept track these days. The mugs collected up next to her and the day went on. The clock ticking slowly. Clock watching wasn't as fun as George and Mitchell watching. At least George and Mitchell did interesting things. The clock just went round and round.
There was the sound of a door shutting from downstairs. Annie looked up. She thought that the neither of the boys would be back until late tonight. She must have been wrong. It was easily done. She was still getting used to the guys schedules.
Scrambling around she pushes the tea mugs into the corner, hiding them as best she could underneath an old sheet. It wasn't that good a hiding place. If either of the guys came in then they would see them immediately. Luckily they didn't come in here that often. It was just the spare room.
Once that was done she crept downstairs to see who had come in. It was Mitchell. He slipped his jacket off and chucked it over the sofa arm. Annie lurked in the door way watching him.
He sat down gently and waited for a moment before speaking. His tone remained soft, the Irish drawl making it sound even softer. "Annie. Are you here?"
Chapter Five