I do not own Being Human. All characters and the world belong to the wonderful Toby Whithouse and the BBC. All errors are my own. Thank you all for reading.

Annie opened the door to find Carl, looking grave and avoiding her gaze. She noticed that he was wearing his small hat and that he looked different from when she last saw him. She stood staring at him and he smiled back at her apprehensively. There was a pause before Annie realized.

"Oh, I'm sorry how rude, um, come in," she invited.

Carl stepped into the pink house and looked at the living room, which was dark except for the light cast on a wall which he guessed was coming from the TV. Annie led Carl to the kitchen, and he sat down on the chair, his eyes spotting some blood stains on the floor, and that's the thing about blood, it's just hard to clean up.

"Want some tea?" Annie asked.

Carl's eyes ripped from the spot on the floor to look up at Annie, who was setting up the kettle.

"No thank you," he said, laughing nervously.

"So, what's up Carl?" Annie said, sitting across from Carl.

Mitchell could not help but think about what was going on downstairs. Was Carl okay? Was Annie? He regretted not telling Annie how he felt. What if that was the last time he would ever see her again? What had he said to her again? You're great, how lame. He was running scared and for what? Something that instant made him try again, but he was stuck like a sticker that's difficult to scrape off.

Carl thought about how to answer Annie's question because he had one of his own. Where was Mitchell? But that would sound rude.

Annie got up before Carl answered. She opened a cupboard and moved several jars of jam and tea bags, as if looking for something.

"So you don't want to tell me what's up?" Annie asked and she swept her hand over the countertop, letting dishes and tea mugs fall. They crashed to the ground, splintering off in all directions. Mitchell's eyes widened as he heard the crash and he was alert.

Carl got up from the table, backing away. Annie still had her back to him and she spoke softly almost inaudible.

"Do you know what lived is spelled backwards?" she asked.

Carl was confused at her question.

"Say it," Annie said loudly.

"Devil," Carl said.

"That's right," Annie said, nodding her head and gritting her teeth. "To live is to be tempted by the devil every day, but not being able to live also has its temptations."

Annie turned around and Carl stumbled back at what he saw.

Mitchell wondered what was going on downstairs. He remembered telling Carl that he didn't want to get him involved, but Carl still came and all Mitchell could think about was how Carl was a true friend. If anything happened to Carl it would be his fault. Mitchell gritted his teeth and just focused on his body, but he still couldn't move. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, hoping that Carl was going to be all right.

Carl's eyes widened and he shook his head in disbelief.

"What's wrong?" Annie said pouting; only it wasn't Annie, but Dan.

Annie had transformed herself into Dan, how she had done it, Carl couldn't comprehend. He didn't see her clothes change. She was even wearing the medallion that Carl had given Dan for his birthday. Dan stepped forward.

"Don't you love me anymore? Where is the love?" and before Carl could do anything, Dan had his hand wrapped around Carl's neck. "My, my, how the tables have turned," Dan said. Dan had Carl in the air as if he weighed nothing. It's not Dan, it's not Dan Carl kept thinking to himself. Dan's hand tightened around his neck, Carl's legs uselessly kicked and then he was being lowered, but when he came level to level, Annie was back. She looked Carl in the face and her eyes started to flutter. That's when Carl felt it, it was as if a giant needle pierced him somewhere in his body and it was sucking out his blood. Carl started to get pale, blood seeped from his eyes like tears, two bright red rivers of blood trailed down from his nose, his mouth gurgling as if it was mouthwash but instead it was blood. Annie was sucking blood out of him like a leech, but at the same time pumping it back in, it was painful.

"Sor," Annie gasped as she held up Carl. Carl could see the struggle Annie was going through as her eyes alternated from violet to a split second of chocolate brown. Carl understood the struggle well and he thought poor Annie. The room began to spin that's what Carl saw. Annie face was just a blur and he felt so light.

Mitchell could not take this anymore, lying down he remembered many of the sweet times he had with Annie. Her laughter, her tea, her bad jokes all gone. He remembered the horrible time, probably her most horrible times as a ghost, when Tully came on to her. She called out to Mitchell, ran to him and clung to him, but this time when she was feeling down she had kept it to herself. He would have been there for her, no matter how trivial or huge, because if it was important to Annie and when it came to Annie, it was pivotal to him. He focused, and she might not have known, but she was critical to him. Then he remembered the accidental kiss and he couldn't help but smile as he thought about it. For some reason he felt like touching his lips now as if it had just happened, but of course he couldn't. He remembered telling her that it felt nice; the truth was that it felt freaking awesome. He hadn't expected what people call the spark, but it was more like an explosion. He had fought the urge to cup her face and fully kiss her. If hadn't met Annie, he would be the beast he used to be. He would be Big Bad John, but living with someone so caring had rubbed off on him. She wasn't like Josie that was something different. With Annie it could be forever. "Annie, Annie, Annie," her name coursed through Mitchell's mind and that's all he wished he could say.

Annie made a shrill sound as she heard her named called out, it was deafening. She forgot all about Carl and he fell to the floor as Annie clasped her hands over her ears.

Mitchell heard a thump and he moved. He moved, he actually moved. He jumped out of bed, and then felt what were like ants all over his body, but it was just that his whole body was asleep. He waited, as the feeling abated, but then just decided to ignore it and went down the stairs. He saw Annie sitting in the corner near the fridge, her legs tucked in, with her hands clamped over her ears. He rushed to her, but then he saw Carl a few inches away on the ground. Carl's face was bloody and Mitchell yelled out.

"What did you do Annie?" he asked, as he walked over to Carl, watching where he stepped because of the broken dishes. Mitchell looked over the floor and rushed over to a knife. He cut his wrist and brought it up to Carl's mouth, like a baby Carl sucked.

Mitchell was getting weary. He looked across at Annie, who now had her hands beside her and she looked as if she was in a daze.

"Apologize, apologize," Mitchell repeated to her. Carl started to cough and pushed Mitchell's wrist away.

"I remember when I told you that a couple of decades ago," Carl said hoarsely.

"So what do we do? Tie her to a chair," Mitchell said sarcastically, he knew it was the loss of blood that was affecting him this way. "Carl, are you all right?"

Carl shook his head a little. Getting some paper towels, he drenched it with water and wiped away the caked blood from Carl's face. Carl winced as Mitchell wiped gently. When Mitchell was finished he bent down toward Annie and grabbed her by the hair. "Apologize," he said harshly. Annie didn't look scared or have any expression now at all. Her eyes were vacuous and she asked, "What?" The rage that coursed through Mitchell was like a match being lit and he tightened his grip on her curls and moved out of her view.

"For that?" he pointed at Carl.

What Annie did next surprised Mitchell and if thought he was angry before, he was furious like a mad bull now. When Annie gave him the middle finger, he never wanted to hurt her so much. He never in his whole existence wanted to hurt someone so much. He had just given Carl some of his blood, so he was weak now and she knew that.

"Mitchell don't," he heard Carl cry out.

Mitchell let go of Annie's hair and raced back to Carl, who still couldn't get up. Mitchell looked at his friend, who looked like he was still in agony, but much better than before now that he was cleaned up. Occasionally, Mitchell turned back to give Annie a cold stare and sometimes she waved, or pointed to herself. She's just trying to push your buttons Mitchell kept telling himself. He was shocked when Carl gripped his wrist. Carl looked like he was going to say something, so Mitchell came closer and Carl whispered in his ear. "She's very dangerous. She can take on different forms."

Mitchell turned around quickly afraid now to have his back to her. Annie stood up and she walked toward Mitchell and Carl. She crouched down and sat next to Mitchell, who was trying to move Carl. Annie laughed at Mitchell's feeble attempts. "I got you both right where I want you."

Thanks again for reading and happy holidays.