Fic: This World You Must Have Crossed
Title: This World You Must Have Crossed
Author: mummyluvr314
Fandom: Being Human US
Rating: PG
Pairing: Bishop/Jane
Summary: The old wing of the hospital is filled with the spirits of those who died there.
A/N: SPOILERS FOR BHUS 1.10. Apparently, Boston by Augustana is my Bishop song now, so that’s where the title comes from.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show or the characters. Please don’t sue me.
“You have to see this.”
Aidan considered the fact that he didn’t jump a small victory. He turned to face the ghost that had popped up behind him in the hospital hallway. “What?”
Sally groaned. “The basement. There’s something you have to see in the basement.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Aidan muttered, gesturing vaguely to the supplies he was supposed to be stocking as a trio of nurses walked by and gave him the stink-eye.
“It’s really important,” Sally argued. She reached out to grab his arm and pull him along with her, but her hand went right through him. “Just humor me, ok?”
The vampire sighed. “Fine.” He trudged down the hallway behind her. “But it had better be good.” They took a darkened staircase down into the basement and the old wing. Aidan hit the lights, wincing as the fluorescents buzzed into life above them. “What is it?”
Sally motioned him over to the door, pointing at the dirty window. “In there,” she whispered. “I don’t think he saw me.”
“Who?” Aidan wiped the dirt and grime away from the old window and peered in. The walls beyond the double doors were covered in an eerie green writing, the messages left by the hallway’s inhabitants for those that would come after. Spirits milled around, wandering aimlessly, muttering to themselves or others.
“Isn’t that your sadistic vampire friend?” Sally asked, pointing.
Aidan turned his gaze to an old cot set against one of the walls. The ghosts seemed to be giving it a wider berth, glaring at its two occupants, snarling and sneering even as they were being ignored.
Sitting on the cot were a man and a woman, their bodies close, deep in conversation. She was a nurse, maybe from the fifties or sixties. He was a cop, and Aidan recognized him instantly.
“What’s he doing here?” the ghost questioned.
Aidan ignored her, cracking the door open and sliding inside. “Cover me.”
“Cover -? How?”
He kept close to the wall, sneaking along and ducking low, avoiding the occasional spirit that threatened to bother him. Bits of conversation floated over from the cot, whispered words and soft chuckles, until he was finally close enough to make out what the two were saying.
“I might have to go away for a while,” Bishop said as his fingers slid through the ghost’s hair to drop through her shoulder and land on the torn fabric of the cot. He pulled his hand back into his lap and smiled sadly at her.
“But why?” she asked, tilting her head. Her voice was familiar, something Aidan had heard once, but he couldn’t quite place it. The memory was fleeting, something that hadn’t been important enough to hold onto through the years.
“Because if I don’t, I could die, and then you’d be all alone here, and I can’t let that happen.”
She laughed, soft and low, leaning forward to tap her forehead against his. Blonde curls disappeared into hair that hadn’t been styled with the usual care, that lay loosely draped across the vampire’s forehead and almost made him look younger. “What could kill you?”
“Other vampires. They don’t trust me anymore, Janey.”
And it hit him. How he knew her, who she was. She wasn’t there at the front of his mind, pushing for space, screaming in his dreams because he hadn’t killed her. Not directly. It had been a team effort.
“Why not?” she asked.
“They think I’ve gone soft.”
She chuckled again, the sound bright and melodious in the dank hallway. “You are soft,” she said, reaching out and poking a finger through his belly.
Bishop lowered his head, eyes locking on the spot where her hand disappeared into his uniform. “It’s not a good thing, Jane. I can’t stay.”
“You can’t leave. I’ll go crazy.”
A drop of water slid from the vampire’s face and fell through the ghost’s arm before staining his pants.
Aidan remembered. He remembered a time when he didn’t cry, but Bishop did. When the younger man would snarl at anyone they passed on the streets. It was funny how things worked, how roles could be revered so dramatically in half a century.
It was all his fault. The dead nurse, the Dutch, Rebecca, Bernie, everything. He’d set it in motion long ago, when he suggested Boston over humanity, and now it was playing out again, in a way.
Everything Bishop did, he did for Aidan. To lessen the blow. To keep him from using cordial visits to the hospital and his family there as a cover for what must have been hours spent in the dark underbelly of the place, surrounded by confused spirits, trying desperately to hang on to something that he couldn’t touch.
He tried to make it easier, but Aidan hadn’t listened, and it had just gotten worse.
Bishop lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “But if I die, I can’t come back someday.”
“How do I know you will, even if you live?”
He reached up and framed her face, his hands hovering centimeters from deceptively solid skin. “Because I will never leave you.”
She pulled away by turning her head, passing through his hands to look down the hallway. “You did before.”
“I came back.” He sighed and dropped his hands to his lap. “I still love you.”
Jane turned back. “Do you?”
“I was wrong, last time. I’m going to make it right now. Wait for me.”
There was silence for a moment, and Aidan found himself holding his breath, waiting for a reply. Finally, Jane sighed. “Come see me before you go. I want to say good-bye.”
Bishop smiled, wide and happy and genuine for the first time in decades. It made something deep inside the younger vampire hurt, the thought that he’d done something to take that kind of smile away.
“Anything,” Bishop said, leaning forward and pressing his lips through her forehead. “Anything.” He stood up, pulling away from the spirit of the nurse.
Aidan ducked into an empty room as the older vampire passed, only daring to peek out when he heard the sound of the double doors closing. He glanced back at the cot, but Jane was gone.
-.-
Aidan tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about a lot of things. Bishop hadn’t asked anything of him since welcoming him back into the fold. Hell, Bishop had barely spoken to him.
The Dutch were still in town, poking around, staying longer than they usually did. There was a tenseness in the air, a nervous energy that Aidan didn’t like. Something was coming. Death and change and a hunt. He had no doubt they would chase Bishop down if he tried to run.
He almost hoped they wouldn’t find him.
And then he saw them. Two of them. Haggemann and one whose name he should have known, but didn’t. They were decidedly out of place in the hospital, wiping blood from their beards as they exited the staircase from the basement.
They looked at Aidan and nodded, smiled. If his heart were still capable of beating, the looks in their eyes would have stopped it dead. As soon as they rounded the corner, he dropped the towels he’d been holding and ran.
Aidan took the stairs three at a time, leaping over the railing on the last floor and stumbling through the double doors to the old wing.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the pile of ash on the floor by a fresh pool of blood.
It was too much. Too much loss in such a small amount of time. Bernie and Josh’s trust and Sally’s faith and Rebecca and now Bishop, too. It was everyone he’d ever had and they were gone. He was alone, and he was broken. He thought he’d broken before, when his family had died and Rebecca had turned and Bernie’d been taken down, but it had only been a taste of this. This was the knowledge that the one creature that had actually cared about him, known what he’d been through, and stood by his side was gone.
Aidan was alone. He was alone in a hallway surrounded by laughing spirits as he slid to the floor and stared at what was left of his maker. He dropped his head to his hands and sobbed, unable to hold back over 200 years of anger, resentment, friendship, love, and loss.
He sobbed until he heard a gasp, followed by another, and another: a full cacophony of shock.
He raised his head, wiping his eyes, and his jaw dropped. Bishop was standing just beyond the pile of ash. His hands were joined with Jane’s, and that strange, happy smile was on his face.
There was a door behind them that hadn’t been there the day before.
“You ready?” Bishop asked, pressing his forehead against hers. Jane smiled at the contact and nodded. They turned together toward the door as the other spirits watched, transfixed. She reached out and closed her fingers around the handle. With a simple twist and pull, the door opened, flooding the hallway in bright light.
Jane stepped through first, her fingers still linked with Bishop’s. The former vampire hung back for a moment, just long to enough to catch Aidan in his gaze and smile, before walking into the light.
The door disappeared behind them.
Author: mummyluvr314
Fandom: Being Human US
Rating: PG
Pairing: Bishop/Jane
Summary: The old wing of the hospital is filled with the spirits of those who died there.
A/N: SPOILERS FOR BHUS 1.10. Apparently, Boston by Augustana is my Bishop song now, so that’s where the title comes from.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show or the characters. Please don’t sue me.
“You have to see this.”
Aidan considered the fact that he didn’t jump a small victory. He turned to face the ghost that had popped up behind him in the hospital hallway. “What?”
Sally groaned. “The basement. There’s something you have to see in the basement.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Aidan muttered, gesturing vaguely to the supplies he was supposed to be stocking as a trio of nurses walked by and gave him the stink-eye.
“It’s really important,” Sally argued. She reached out to grab his arm and pull him along with her, but her hand went right through him. “Just humor me, ok?”
The vampire sighed. “Fine.” He trudged down the hallway behind her. “But it had better be good.” They took a darkened staircase down into the basement and the old wing. Aidan hit the lights, wincing as the fluorescents buzzed into life above them. “What is it?”
Sally motioned him over to the door, pointing at the dirty window. “In there,” she whispered. “I don’t think he saw me.”
“Who?” Aidan wiped the dirt and grime away from the old window and peered in. The walls beyond the double doors were covered in an eerie green writing, the messages left by the hallway’s inhabitants for those that would come after. Spirits milled around, wandering aimlessly, muttering to themselves or others.
“Isn’t that your sadistic vampire friend?” Sally asked, pointing.
Aidan turned his gaze to an old cot set against one of the walls. The ghosts seemed to be giving it a wider berth, glaring at its two occupants, snarling and sneering even as they were being ignored.
Sitting on the cot were a man and a woman, their bodies close, deep in conversation. She was a nurse, maybe from the fifties or sixties. He was a cop, and Aidan recognized him instantly.
“What’s he doing here?” the ghost questioned.
Aidan ignored her, cracking the door open and sliding inside. “Cover me.”
“Cover -? How?”
He kept close to the wall, sneaking along and ducking low, avoiding the occasional spirit that threatened to bother him. Bits of conversation floated over from the cot, whispered words and soft chuckles, until he was finally close enough to make out what the two were saying.
“I might have to go away for a while,” Bishop said as his fingers slid through the ghost’s hair to drop through her shoulder and land on the torn fabric of the cot. He pulled his hand back into his lap and smiled sadly at her.
“But why?” she asked, tilting her head. Her voice was familiar, something Aidan had heard once, but he couldn’t quite place it. The memory was fleeting, something that hadn’t been important enough to hold onto through the years.
“Because if I don’t, I could die, and then you’d be all alone here, and I can’t let that happen.”
She laughed, soft and low, leaning forward to tap her forehead against his. Blonde curls disappeared into hair that hadn’t been styled with the usual care, that lay loosely draped across the vampire’s forehead and almost made him look younger. “What could kill you?”
“Other vampires. They don’t trust me anymore, Janey.”
And it hit him. How he knew her, who she was. She wasn’t there at the front of his mind, pushing for space, screaming in his dreams because he hadn’t killed her. Not directly. It had been a team effort.
“Why not?” she asked.
“They think I’ve gone soft.”
She chuckled again, the sound bright and melodious in the dank hallway. “You are soft,” she said, reaching out and poking a finger through his belly.
Bishop lowered his head, eyes locking on the spot where her hand disappeared into his uniform. “It’s not a good thing, Jane. I can’t stay.”
“You can’t leave. I’ll go crazy.”
A drop of water slid from the vampire’s face and fell through the ghost’s arm before staining his pants.
Aidan remembered. He remembered a time when he didn’t cry, but Bishop did. When the younger man would snarl at anyone they passed on the streets. It was funny how things worked, how roles could be revered so dramatically in half a century.
It was all his fault. The dead nurse, the Dutch, Rebecca, Bernie, everything. He’d set it in motion long ago, when he suggested Boston over humanity, and now it was playing out again, in a way.
Everything Bishop did, he did for Aidan. To lessen the blow. To keep him from using cordial visits to the hospital and his family there as a cover for what must have been hours spent in the dark underbelly of the place, surrounded by confused spirits, trying desperately to hang on to something that he couldn’t touch.
He tried to make it easier, but Aidan hadn’t listened, and it had just gotten worse.
Bishop lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “But if I die, I can’t come back someday.”
“How do I know you will, even if you live?”
He reached up and framed her face, his hands hovering centimeters from deceptively solid skin. “Because I will never leave you.”
She pulled away by turning her head, passing through his hands to look down the hallway. “You did before.”
“I came back.” He sighed and dropped his hands to his lap. “I still love you.”
Jane turned back. “Do you?”
“I was wrong, last time. I’m going to make it right now. Wait for me.”
There was silence for a moment, and Aidan found himself holding his breath, waiting for a reply. Finally, Jane sighed. “Come see me before you go. I want to say good-bye.”
Bishop smiled, wide and happy and genuine for the first time in decades. It made something deep inside the younger vampire hurt, the thought that he’d done something to take that kind of smile away.
“Anything,” Bishop said, leaning forward and pressing his lips through her forehead. “Anything.” He stood up, pulling away from the spirit of the nurse.
Aidan ducked into an empty room as the older vampire passed, only daring to peek out when he heard the sound of the double doors closing. He glanced back at the cot, but Jane was gone.
-.-
Aidan tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about a lot of things. Bishop hadn’t asked anything of him since welcoming him back into the fold. Hell, Bishop had barely spoken to him.
The Dutch were still in town, poking around, staying longer than they usually did. There was a tenseness in the air, a nervous energy that Aidan didn’t like. Something was coming. Death and change and a hunt. He had no doubt they would chase Bishop down if he tried to run.
He almost hoped they wouldn’t find him.
And then he saw them. Two of them. Haggemann and one whose name he should have known, but didn’t. They were decidedly out of place in the hospital, wiping blood from their beards as they exited the staircase from the basement.
They looked at Aidan and nodded, smiled. If his heart were still capable of beating, the looks in their eyes would have stopped it dead. As soon as they rounded the corner, he dropped the towels he’d been holding and ran.
Aidan took the stairs three at a time, leaping over the railing on the last floor and stumbling through the double doors to the old wing.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the pile of ash on the floor by a fresh pool of blood.
It was too much. Too much loss in such a small amount of time. Bernie and Josh’s trust and Sally’s faith and Rebecca and now Bishop, too. It was everyone he’d ever had and they were gone. He was alone, and he was broken. He thought he’d broken before, when his family had died and Rebecca had turned and Bernie’d been taken down, but it had only been a taste of this. This was the knowledge that the one creature that had actually cared about him, known what he’d been through, and stood by his side was gone.
Aidan was alone. He was alone in a hallway surrounded by laughing spirits as he slid to the floor and stared at what was left of his maker. He dropped his head to his hands and sobbed, unable to hold back over 200 years of anger, resentment, friendship, love, and loss.
He sobbed until he heard a gasp, followed by another, and another: a full cacophony of shock.
He raised his head, wiping his eyes, and his jaw dropped. Bishop was standing just beyond the pile of ash. His hands were joined with Jane’s, and that strange, happy smile was on his face.
There was a door behind them that hadn’t been there the day before.
“You ready?” Bishop asked, pressing his forehead against hers. Jane smiled at the contact and nodded. They turned together toward the door as the other spirits watched, transfixed. She reached out and closed her fingers around the handle. With a simple twist and pull, the door opened, flooding the hallway in bright light.
Jane stepped through first, her fingers still linked with Bishop’s. The former vampire hung back for a moment, just long to enough to catch Aidan in his gaze and smile, before walking into the light.
The door disappeared behind them.