A/N: Hello everyone! So this is a story I'd written mid last year for another fanfiction site and one that I decided to post over here now. Reason being with Almighty Johnsons having been released in the States and other countries, plus Being Human UK these crossover stories have likely become more popular on here.
This story does have some dark themes in the second chapter however it does work itself out in the end I promise.
The tags for this story (starting from the second chapter) are as following: Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Attempted Rape (doesn't happen though), blood, a little torture (this is due to being under the non-consensual use of drugs), non-consensual drug use and recovery. If you have any questions about what might be in the second chapter if you're a bit hesitant flick me a message and I'll give you a brief rundown. :)
As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the characters of Almighty Johnsons or Being Human as much as I would like to!
Mitchell clasped a hand to his head as he woke, a persistent buzzing screaming in his ears and his head throbbing as though someone had run it over.
He rolled over and gasped, wrenching his eyes open as his bare back met cold tiles. He sat up slowly, mindful of the aches in his body and looked around. For some reason he'd fallen asleep in the kitchen area, the room was pitch black and strangely quiet. He looked in the direction of the fish tank and frowned, he could have sworn the light was on the last time he saw it.
With a shrug he climbed to his feet, wobbling several times on his way up until he was able to grab onto the counter for support. Once he was upright he massaged his head, trying to blink out the black spots he knew were impeding his vision.
"What the hell happened?" He mumbled to himself quietly, flinching violently when his phone on the counter lit up and vibrated with an incoming call.
He frowned at the caller ID: H. "Hello?" He asked tentatively, startled when he saw the calendar which read the 19th when he could have sworn yesterday had been the 2nd.
"Mitchell! How is my favourite traitor?"
"Herrick?!" Mitchell asked dumbstruck. "How the fuck did you get this number?"
"Aww come on Mitchell, you gave it to me two weeks ago when we were at the pub!" Herrick exclaimed cheerily.
"I... wasn't at the pub two weeks ago," Mitchell replied slowly, wracking his brains to try and figure out if he had indeed given Herrick his number as he was suggesting. "And I'd never give you my number. Hell, I'd never even sit with you!"
"Mitchell Mitchell Mitchell," Herrick said with a sigh "you did, and I must admit the last two weeks with you have been a blast, I've never seen you so carefree before."
"I would never..." Mitchell whispered, a horrible feeling washing over him and making him feel sick. "What do you mean the last two weeks you've been with me? I haven't seen you since I left Bristol nine months ago."
"Memory loss, huh well that's not surprising. Probably for the best really as we've been on quite the bender -"
"I haven't seen -"
"The drugs seem to work a charm though."
There was silence on both ends of the phone whilst Herrick allowed him to process what he'd just said.
"What do you mean drugs?" Mitchell asked slowly, mentally cursing himself for the waver in his voice.
"Well you see, playing cop is all well and good but when I learned you had found yourself a God and were trying the whole 'domestic life' routine I thought to myself 'Herrick you handsome devil you, if Mitchell can try something new why can't you?' So I delved into playing with drugs, creating something for our kind that's just as good as what our walking blood banks use. The great thing about these ones is that the first stage has to be delivered in a liquid and after that the actual drugs can be injected into a human or another vampire, and we get the drug from their blood when we feed. Ingenious don't you think?"
"I don't feed from people, I'm... I'm clean! I'd never -" Mitchell stuttered out, feeling his stomach twist in disgust at what Herrick was saying.
"Silly me, I almost forgot to mention the main part. The drugs are incredibly good, in fact they're so good they make us lucid, practically blanking a vampires mind and making them open to suggestion." Herrick said as though it was the greatest thing in the world.
Mitchell stood in the middle of the pitch black room with wide eyes and an open mouth. Drugs that left a vampire open to manipulation, drugs that Herrick had used on him?
"What did you make me do?" He growled. He moved away from the counter towards the fish tank to turn the kitchen lights on. He walked past the couch, stumbling when his foot caught on something that shouldn't have been there.
"What didn't we do Mitchell? It was quite the party we had," He heard Herrick say as he made his way over to the light switch, "but that God of yours seems to have snapped you out of its effects faster than I would have liked."
Mitchell flicked the kitchen lights on and looked around, his heart plummeting and he clapped a hand to his mouth.
Not one piece of furniture was standing, the couch had been knocked over, the TV had a fist sized hole through the screen, the bar stools, dining room chairs and stereo were on their side (what was left of the stereo anyway) and the coffee and the dining tables had been snapped in half, glass shards everywhere. He looked to the fish tank which was the only thing in the room that had been left untouched.
"What happened here?" Mitchell whispered horrified.
"Hard to say, but after all that's happened I doubt your God will be causing you any more problems."
"What did you do?!"
"I think the question is Mitchell, what did you do?"
A door down the hall creaked ominously and Mitchell dropped his phone, sprinting towards the noise. "ANDERS!" He screamed, sliding to a halt when he saw the bedroom door hanging by a hinge, a gaping hole in the centre of it. He wrenched the door clean off and fumbled along the wall looking for the switch. His fingers slid over the plastic and he stabbed at the button, falling to his knees when the light came on.