AN: Another one from me, un-beta'd. Set after 1x08 there maybe minor references to other fic's but you don't need to read them to get this. Love it or hate it, let me know what you think.

AN2: I am very interested in, and sympathetic to mental health issues. An estimated 450 million people in the world have a problem. What I have written here is at best inaccurate and extreme.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine.

******************************************************************************

Prologue: Angel of death

The night air was cool; the light rain had started to turn heavy and wash away the sticky heat and humidity of the early autumn day. For a moment he stopped, taking shelter under the overhang of a shop doorway, and watched the throng of people in the alley across the street from him. A small sneer of distain twisted his mouth for a moment. They were queued between rope barriers; slowly shuffling past the large, black-clad bouncers, and into the dark entrance of the club. Mindless drones, like cattle, skidding and shuffling, prodded forward by thickset herdsmen into the gapping maw of the slaughter trucks.

Letting his eyes drift shut he smiled as his imagination painted a vivid picture. The loud chattering turning into frighten calls of herd animals, and the orange glow of the street lights turned to blood in his mind, reflecting in the growing puddles and painting the street in deep crimson.

He dug his hand down deep into the home made pouch inside the heavy coat, his fingers curling round thick moulded grip. Clenching the handle he hefted the weapon, feeling its reassuring weight.

The queue shuffled forward again as a couple more of them were herded into the club. In his mind he saw the doors as huge steel teeth, clamping shut, chewing apart the drones stupid enough to want to go in that place. He chuckled at the irony. Tonight, for once, the people inside would be safe, it was those slow stupid ones still in the street that should be worried. With a thrill he realised that once again he controlled who would live and who would die. Would he wait for the trio of tall blondes near the front of the queue, to be ushered forward, or would it be them he took. He licked his lips slowly and made no move as the bouncer undid the rope and in unison they hobbled forward on heels like overgrown hooves. They owed him their lives and they would never know it.

A few more moments passed, his anticipation growing until his heart thudded in his chest so hard it felt like it was trying to explode.

A couple near the back of the queue hugged and then started kissing; they were all tongues and groping, oblivious to the people around them. His targets had picked themselves. David had told him they would.

Another pause, and then with certainty he knew it was time.

He crossed the street in ten long, measured strides. Time seemed to slow exponentially with each one.

Five meters away he stopped abruptly, sensing something wrong. He scanned the queue; someone had noticed him. No one ever saw him, but there, halfway down the queue, a man with a shock of dark spiky hair was staring right at him.

There was a moment of frozen stillness. Complete and utter stillness. They'd told him no one could invade his head, no one could steal his thoughts, but in that second he realised they were wrong. The man whose blue eyes met his wasn't just another Drone. The stranger knew what he was here for, it was there in the fear and shock painted on the pale features.

A Mind Thief.

His heart thudded once as though shocked back into action at the realization, and time started again. His targets were irrelevant now, in an instant everything had changed.

"GUN! Get down!"

He smiled at the mind thief's frighten yell, and pulled out the gun. The warning was too little, too late.

They all started to run but as he lifted the weapon and pulled the trigger they fell.

************************

1 hour earlier.

"Liv… Liv!…listen; don't worry... I'm babysitting that's all." He listened to the objections on the other end of the line, whilst ignoring Oz, who was tapping his watch impatiently. "I promise I'll be good… promise. Look Liv if we are going to get in anywhere we've got to go now." He hung up trying to not to sigh in frustration.

"Ha! You're not even officially back together and she's got you under her thumb." Oz was grinning, as he fidgeted by the door.

Toby shot him an annoyed glare. "It's not like that, she's just worried. She thinks you're a bad influence you know."

"Me!" Oz's indigent response was feigned and they shared a laugh as they left his apartment.

The evening was still warm but there was a hint of rain in the air and Toby wondered briefly if he should have brought a coat with him. He dismissed the idea of heading back; they were already late, although hopefully, if they got a move on, they could avoid the lines.

There was a small queue of people at the bus stop; a mix of people dressed for a night out and shift workers in uniform. Leaning on a nearby railing Toby started to shore up his mental defences. He had a pre-club ritual that helped him not only cope with the pressure of so many minds, but actually allowed him to enjoy a night out. One of the bonuses of Oz knowing about him was he no longer got hassled if he took a moment or two to sort his head out.

After a couple of minutes he let out a slow relaxing breath and opened his eyes. Oz was chatting away to a poor brunette in a cleaner's uniform. As was his duty, Toby rescued her by distracting his partner. "So mister 'bad influence' what are the plans for tonight?" he asked.

Oz smirked and Toby didn't need to read his mind to know out what Oz's intentions for the night were. "Epoch reopened last week. I thought we should make sure we are seen on the scene."

Toby raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to bankrupt me?" Epoch was expensive and exclusive; and all reports suggested that after the refurbishment it was going to be doubly so. One night out there would clean out his entertainment budget for the month.

Oz batted him lightly on the shoulder as the bus pulled up. "You only live once man."

They got off at King and University as the rain began to fall; a light drizzle that helped take the sticky humidity out of the night air.

Oz nudged him as they set off down King Street West. "There you go. That's got to be a good reason to come out."

He tilted his head following his partners gaze. Three very tall blondes, wearing very little clothing, were walking on the other side of the street. They weren't necessarily Toby's type; Oz was the one that liked women with at least a foot in height on him, but the view was not unpleasant. Oz was practically drooling, and Toby grabbed his elbow to stop him bolting across the road. "Steady on Romeo, I thought we were going to the Epoch."

Oz looked at him incredulously as he sped up to keep pace with the girls on the opposite side of the street. "It's called flexible planning man. You need to anticipate, respond quickly to changes in circumstance."

"It's called stalking man." Toby replied. "What if they aren't going to a club?"

Oz spared him another quick glance, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Well are they?"

"Oz, I…" Toby started to protest but realised it was probably futile; instead he shifted the focus of his attention, opening his mind, and rearranging his mental balance. It didn't take long. "Bar 122."

Oz stopped abruptly and patted him on the back. "You know what Toby, I think you're right Epoch is very expensive, and we haven't been to 122 for ages," he said grinning. "And see; now we aren't stalking anyone."

Toby rolled his eyes as they crossed the street, the delay putting them at a more respectable distance from his partner's quarry. "Oz, I can't help feeling this isn't using my powers for good."

They weren't the only ones who'd decided to detour to trendy club in Adelaide Street, the line, while not particularly long, was moving slowly and there was a guest list in operation. Oz bounced on his heels impatiently as they stood waiting. The blondes they'd followed were approaching the front of the queue and it was clear Oz didn't want to loose sight of them for too long.

The rain was getting heavier and, without his coat, Epoch was looking a much better option. Sighing Toby glanced round the line and fought the urge to relieve his boredom by prying on the other clubbers minds.

It came slowly; at first he thought he'd slipped up and let his normal barriers down. But it was more insidious than that, a creeping sense of wrongness that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. As it grew louder he tuned Oz's babbling out and scanned over the queue, opening himself up to their thoughts. Nothing unusual came to him at first and then there was the sense of distain; distain and anticipation. As his mind grabbed on to the sensation the street around him changed. The rain and sense of boredom was replaced by blood and fear.

Then a figure appeared, striding from the shadows, the glowing, fiery, form of the angel of death.

Somewhere, deep down, he knew he was just seeing through the mind of someone else, but the imagery was so detailed, so powerful, it bordered on painful.

Engulfed in flames, it strode from the darkness. A glowing sword hung by its side, blood dripping from the white hot blade, and mixing with the pools of red rain on the ground.

Toby's mind reeled at the intensity of the thoughts, and he tried to push them to the side, see with his own eyes what was really happening. He couldn't; instead he watched frozen, trapped in the fantasy as the figure flickered and wavered, then loomed closer.

Mind thief

The sudden, startled thought broke him free from the grip of the vision. Abruptly reality came flooding back. The glowing figure was gone, replaced by the glimpse of a shadowy face under a dark baseball cap, and a glimpse -- mentally-- of his intentions.

Without a thought Toby yelled a warning and grabbed Oz, pushing him down to the ground as all hell broke loose.