SCENE 1 — THE TRIP
Location: High Arctic — Undisclosed
The Hunter’s Enclave Arctic Transport cuts steadily across a landscape that seems determined to erase any proof that human beings have ever existed.
There is no road.
There are no buildings.
No power lines.
No distant lights.
Only white.
Snow sweeps across an endless frozen plain beneath a colorless sky, pushed sideways by a wind strong enough to blur the horizon. Every few minutes the transport passes some natural formation that might have served as a landmark—an ice ridge, an exposed shelf of black stone, a frozen channel—
Then it disappears behind them.
The transport itself is built for this.
Wide tracked treads grind through deep snow. The reinforced cabin rattles beneath the constant strain. Heater vents fight a losing battle against the Arctic pressing against every window.
At the controls sits Gene Wrenchester.
Both hands on the wheel.
Eyes forward.
Beside him sits Colonel Henry Honeycutt, Joint Arctic Operations Commander for the Hunter’s Enclave and the Watchers.
Gene had met soldiers like Honeycutt before.
Men who somehow managed to sit at attention.
Early sixties. Short grey hair. Heavy winter uniform. Broad shoulders that had not yet received the message that age was supposed to soften them.
And then there was the mustache.
A magnificent grey handlebar mustache large enough that Gene had privately decided it probably possessed its own security clearance.
Honeycutt studies a navigation display mounted before him.
He says nothing.
Gene waits.
Nothing.
Gene glances sideways.
Still nothing.
Finally—
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Two degrees northwest.
Gene adjusts the controls.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Good talk.
Honeycutt does not react.
Gene looks back toward the windshield.
Of course he doesn’t.
Yesterday, Gene Wrenchester had believed he knew every major Hunter’s Enclave installation north of sixty degrees.
Ravenshold.
The satellite depots.
The emergency caches.
The old Canadian listening posts the Enclave supposedly abandoned twenty years ago but somehow still kept stocked with silver ammunition.
Every place where hunters could hide, regroup, bleed, reload, or pretend they were not hiding, regrouping, bleeding, and reloading.
Then Van Helsing had called.
Apparently—
No.
Gene had not known every Enclave installation.
Not even close.
Somewhere ahead of them was a joint Enclave-Watcher outpost so secret that Gene had served for years without hearing so much as a drunken rumor about it.
A facility buried deep in the Arctic.
Close to the Heart of Hope.
Which was another sentence Gene would have laughed at under considerably different circumstances.
Heart of Hope.
Cam would have had something to say about that.
Gene's hands tighten slightly around the steering wheel.
He loosens them.
Keeps driving.
The cabin behind Honeycutt is quiet.
Painfully quiet.
Gene glances into the small rear-view mirror mounted above the windshield.
Mr. Mason sits directly behind him.
Perfectly still.
Black coat.
Hands folded.
Wedding ring visible against one finger.
The man's eyes remain fixed on the white horizon beyond the windshield.
Gene had seen dangerous people before.
Vampires.
Werewolves.
Cult assassins.
Witches.
Things that technically had names but were generally easier to categorize as do not let it touch you.
Jack Mason was different.
He looked—
Gene searches for the correct description.
Then finds it.
Like someone had taken the host of a demented children’s television program, dressed him for a funeral, and taught him extremely good manners.
Gene almost smiles.
Almost.
Beside Mason sits Negropolis.
Masked.
Silent.
Watching.
That mask alone could probably convince Batman to reconsider night work.
Gene looks into the mirror a little longer.
Negropolis notices.
Of course he notices.
Gene looks forward again.
Behind them, separated from the forward cabin by a reinforced bulkhead opening, are Polly Mason and Leiton Snake.
Polly Mason.
There was another name.
Former psychotic musical muse.
Recovering victim of enough conditioning, experimentation, supernatural nonsense, and family trauma to fill several Enclave casebooks.
And sitting beside her—
Leiton Snake.
A member of the Snake family.
Because apparently today was Gene Wrenchester Drives Some of the Most Potentially Terrifying People on Earth Through a Classified Arctic Wilderness Day.
He considers saying that aloud.
Under normal circumstances, Cam would already have beaten him to the joke.
That thought arrives too quickly.
Too naturally.
Gene stares ahead.
The transport rolls over a patch of uneven ice.
The suspension groans.
For half a second, Gene can almost hear Cam beside him.
Technically, Leiton Snake isn't one of the most dangerous members of the family if we're measuring documented casualty potential—
Gene can hear his own response.
Cam.
Then Cam would give him that look.
That faint little smirk.
Right. Not the time.
Gene swallows.
No.
Not the time.
Honeycutt looks at the display.
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Bear right.
Gene turns.
GENE WRENCHESTER
You know, Colonel, you ever consider adding a little flourish to these directions?
Nothing.
GENE WRENCHESTER
"Bear right, brave traveler, lest the frozen abyss claim your mortal soul."
Nothing.
Gene nods to himself.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Yeah. Yours is better.
Silence returns.
It has become the defining feature of the trip.
Gene hates it.
He and Cam had spent years discovering exactly how much nonsense two grown men could fit into dangerous travel.
Helicopters.
Trucks.
Boats.
Trains.
Once, thirty-seven miserable hours in the back of a Romanian livestock hauler because somebody had decided covert entry was more important than dignity.
Cam had spent most of that trip explaining why goats possessed surprisingly complex social hierarchies.
Gene had threatened to shoot him.
Cam had pointed out that shooting inside the truck would frighten the goats.
Gene had threatened to shoot the goats too.
Cam had spent the next three hours explaining why that would make their cover significantly less convincing.
Gene remembers laughing.
He does not remember the joke anymore.
Only the laugh.
That somehow hurts worse.
His gaze remains fixed upon the snow.
Cam had always filled dead air.
Sometimes with facts.
Sometimes with corrections nobody asked for.
Sometimes just to annoy him.
Especially to annoy him.
Silence had never survived long when Cam Wrenchester was in the vehicle.
Gene glances once at the passenger seat beside him.
Honeycutt remains there.
Rigid.
Motionless.
Grey mustache.
Navigation display.
For a stupid fraction of a second Gene imagines someone else sitting there.
Then he doesn't.
Rescued family member.
That was how Van Helsing had phrased it.
Gene Wrenchester transporting several civilians—
Well.
"Civilians" was doing a lot of work there.
Transporting several people to reunite with a rescued family member.
His brother should have been on this run.
Cam would have appreciated the irony.
They spent their lives rescuing people.
Or trying.
People trapped in cults.
People trapped in curses.
People trapped behind doors that should never have been opened.
Sometimes they got them out.
Sometimes—
Gene sees snow.
Blood.
Cam lying still.
His brother's coat bunched inside Gene's fists.
You idiot.
Gene blinks hard.
The Arctic returns.
Windshield.
Snow.
Controls.
Honeycutt.
Drive.
That is the trick.
Keep doing the thing immediately in front of you.
Turn.
Accelerate.
Brake.
Reload.
Shoot.
Drive.
Anything except stop long enough for the world to catch up.
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Reduce speed.
Gene eases off the throttle.
Ahead, the apparently flat ground changes.
At first Gene sees nothing.
Then the light catches it.
Hairline fractures run across the ice.
A crevasse field.
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Follow my line exactly.
Gene nods.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Wouldn't dream of improvising.
He guides the transport carefully between invisible hazards.
Five miles per hour.
Then four.
The tracks crunch over packed snow.
No one speaks.
Gene cannot take it anymore.
GENE WRENCHESTER
So.
Nothing.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Anybody want to play a travel game?
Nothing.
Gene checks the mirror.
Mr. Mason remains motionless.
Negropolis watches the horizon.
No movement from the rear compartment.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Twenty questions?
Silence.
GENE WRENCHESTER
I Spy's probably a bad choice.
Still nothing.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Everything's white.
Nothing.
Gene waits another second.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Okay. Tough room.
The only response is the low mechanical rumble of the transport.
Gene shakes his head.
Cam would have rescued him.
Not because Cam's joke would have been better.
It usually wasn't.
That was the point.
Cam would have said something painfully literal about I Spy being an inefficient game in a biome with limited visual diversity.
Gene would have called him an idiot.
Cam would have corrected the terminology.
And ten minutes would disappear.
Gene looks down briefly.
His brother's old field knife sits sheathed against his belt.
He had not consciously chosen it that morning.
At least that was what he kept telling himself.
His eyes return to the windshield.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Yeah.
Nobody asks what he means.
Good.
He isn't sure himself.
Several minutes pass.
Then Honeycutt finally raises one gloved finger toward the distance.
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Left of the ridge.
Gene squints.
There is nothing there.
GENE WRENCHESTER
What ridge?
Honeycutt points.
Gene looks harder.
Then he sees it.
Barely.
A low rise in the snow.
He turns toward it.
GENE WRENCHESTER
You people hid an entire outpost behind that?
Honeycutt says nothing.
Naturally.
They approach.
The snowfield seems empty until they are perhaps two hundred yards away.
Then the world changes.
A shimmer moves across the air.
Not quite light.
Not quite heat.
A veil.
The snow-covered ridge flickers—
And disappears.
Gene's eyebrows rise.
Beyond it stands the outpost.
Low reinforced structures partially buried beneath the ice.
A communications mast disguised against the surrounding terrain.
Heavy blast doors.
Watchtowers.
Enclave markings beside symbols Gene recognizes as belonging to the Watchers.
Nothing ornamental.
Nothing visible from any meaningful distance.
A fortress that had somehow convinced the Arctic it was not there.
Gene lets out a quiet whistle.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Well.
He glances at Honeycutt.
GENE WRENCHESTER
I'll give you people this.
Honeycutt looks at him.
Gene gestures toward the installation.
GENE WRENCHESTER
When you say secret, you commit to the bit.
Honeycutt returns his attention forward.
Gene almost laughs.
Almost.
The massive outer doors begin opening.
Warm amber lights appear beyond them.
Gene catches movement in the mirror.
For the first time during the entire journey, Mr. Mason leans forward.
Only slightly.
But Gene notices.
The man's hands are no longer folded.
His fingers curl against his knees.
That wedding ring catches the pale light again.
Gene looks away.
Suddenly this is not an Enclave mission.
Not a classified facility.
Not Watcher business.
Not vampires.
Not Dracula.
Not even hunters.
A man is about to see his wife.
Someone they got back.
Gene feels something twist inside his chest.
Because sometimes—
Sometimes you actually got them back.
The transport crosses the threshold.
The blast doors begin closing behind them.
Honeycutt gives the final direction.
COLONEL HONEYCUTT
Bay three.
Gene steers into the indicated vehicle bay and brings the transport to a slow stop.
The engine settles into a heavy idle.
Then silence.
Mr. Mason looks through the forward glass at the personnel waiting beyond the bay.
His expression remains controlled.
Almost unnaturally so.
But Gene sees his hand.
It is trembling.
Barely.
Mr. Mason draws one slow breath.
MR. MASON
Good.
One word.
Nothing more.
Gene shuts down the engine.
The rear door releases with a mechanical hiss.
Polly and Leiton disembark first.
Negropolis follows.
Mr. Mason moves toward the door—
Then stops.
He looks back at Gene.
For the first time during the entire trip, the strange, perfectly controlled man seems unsure what to do with a moment.
MR. MASON
Mr. Wrenchester.
Gene turns in his seat.
Mr. Mason gives him a small nod.
MR. MASON
Thank you for the trip.
A pause.
Then, quieter—
MR. MASON
And the company.
Gene looks at him.
For once, no joke arrives.
No smart remark.
Nothing that needs saying.
He finally manages a small nod.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Go see your wife.
Mr. Mason holds his gaze for one beat.
Then turns.
He steps down from the transport and follows his family deeper into the outpost.
Gene remains behind the wheel.
Honeycutt is already checking something on his navigation tablet.
Of course he is.
Gene watches the others disappear through the inner doors.
A rescued family member.
A husband getting someone back.
His hand drops unconsciously to the knife at his belt.
For one brief moment, Gene closes his eyes.
You would've hated this trip, Cam.
A faint smile pulls at one corner of his mouth.
No.
That wasn't true.
Cam would have loved every ridiculous second of it.
Gene opens his eyes.
The vehicle bay is quiet.
Too quiet.
He looks toward the empty seat beside him.
GENE WRENCHESTER
Yeah.
A beat.
GENE WRENCHESTER
I know.
Cut to black.
SCENE 2 — THE REUNION
Location: Hunter’s Enclave / Watcher Arctic Outpost — Undisclosed
The inner doors of the vehicle bay slide shut behind them with a heavy metallic boom.
For the first time since leaving the North Pole, Jack Mason is walking quickly.
Not running.
Mr. Mason does not run.
But the difference is noticeable.
Negropolis stays at his right shoulder. Polly Mason and Leiton Snake follow several steps behind.
Waiting for them beyond the security checkpoint are Abraham Van Helsing and Carmilla Nocturne.
Van Helsing is dressed for the Arctic, his long coat closed tightly around him. He looks tired, even by his standards, but there is something different beneath that weariness tonight.
Relief.
Carmilla stands beside him, arms folded, expression unreadable.
Jack stops in front of them.
His voice is quiet.
Controlled.
MR. MASON
Where is she?
Van Helsing does not waste time.
VAN HELSING
This way.
He turns.
Jack follows immediately.
They move deeper into the facility.
The outpost is larger than its exterior suggested.
Long reinforced corridors descend beneath the ice, illuminated by warm amber lights rather than the sterile fluorescents of a military installation. Ancient symbols have been worked discreetly into the walls alongside modern security systems.
Runes.
Crosses.
Watcher sigils.
Hunter wards.
Symbols Jack does not recognize.
At several intersections, armed Enclave personnel stand beside men and women wearing the darker insignia of the Watchers.
Nobody challenges Van Helsing.
Nobody asks why four professional wrestlers are being escorted through one of the most secret installations in existence.
Jack barely notices any of it.
He only walks.
Van Helsing glances toward him.
VAN HELSING
Jack.
Jack keeps moving.
VAN HELSING
Before you see her, there is something you need to understand.
That gets Jack's attention.
He looks toward Van Helsing.
The calm expression remains.
But Negropolis sees Jack's fingers flex once beside his coat.
MR. MASON
Is she all right?
VAN HELSING
She is alive.
A beat.
VAN HELSING
She is herself.
Jack's shoulders lower almost imperceptibly.
Van Helsing continues walking.
VAN HELSING
And there is nowhere on Earth I would rather have her right now than here.
Jack looks around the corridor.
VAN HELSING
This facility was built where several ancient protections intersect. The Watchers strengthened them. The Enclave added its own safeguards.
They pass beneath another carved archway.
The symbols etched into it glow faintly as Carmilla crosses beneath them.
VAN HELSING
Dracula cannot enter this place.
A few more steps.
VAN HELSING
Neither can anything bound directly to his will.
Jack's eyes shift toward him.
MR. MASON
You're certain?
Van Helsing stops.
He turns directly toward Jack.
VAN HELSING
Yes.
One word.
Absolute.
VAN HELSING
There are few things left in this world about which I make that claim.
A beat.
VAN HELSING
This is one of them.
Jack considers him.
Then nods.
MR. MASON
Good.
Carmilla watches him.
Not the words.
The man saying them.
They continue.
Eventually the military character of the installation begins to soften.
The corridor narrows.
The lighting becomes warmer.
The doors here resemble quarters rather than bunkers.
Van Helsing stops before one of them.
Jack stops too.
And suddenly—
He cannot move.
They have crossed hundreds of miles of Arctic wilderness.
He has fought monsters.
He has threatened kings.
He has stood across the ring from the creature who took his wife and calmly promised consequences.
But now there is only a door.
And Jack Mason cannot make himself touch it.
Polly watches her brother.
Her eyes soften.
Negropolis says nothing.
Leiton remains beside Polly.
Carmilla reaches for the control panel.
Jack looks at her.
For the first time, there is something almost frightened beneath Mr. Mason's composure.
Carmilla understands.
Her voice is softer than usual.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
She has been waiting for you.
Carmilla presses the control.
The lock releases.
The door opens.
The room beyond is modest.
Warm.
A small sitting area.
A bed.
Medical equipment positioned discreetly along one wall.
Heavy curtains cover a reinforced window.
And standing near the center of the room—
Dr. Edie Hartwell Mason.
For several seconds, nobody moves.
Ace MacDougal stands beside her.
He has been saying something.
Whatever it was dies the moment the door opens.
Ace looks from Edie—
to Jack.
The Scotsman's face softens.
He quietly steps away.
And suddenly there is nothing between them.
Jack stares.
He had seen her on the arena screen.
He thought that had prepared him.
It had not.
Her hair is much longer now.
Dark waves fall over her shoulders.
Her complexion is pale.
Not sickly.
Not weak.
Just—
different.
Something Castle Dracula left behind.
Edie's eyes fill almost immediately.
EDIE
Jack.
That does it.
Whatever rehearsed words Jack had prepared disappear.
Whatever careful speech Mr. Mason intended to give vanishes completely.
His lips part.
Nothing comes.
Then—
JACK
Edie.
Not Mr. Mason.
Jack.
Edie crosses the room.
Jack meets her halfway.
She throws her arms around him.
Jack catches her so tightly that for one terrible second it seems he might never let go.
His eyes close.
His face buries against her hair.
Edie's hands clutch the back of his coat.
Neither says anything.
They simply hold each other.
Polly covers her mouth.
Ace looks toward the floor.
Negropolis watches Jack.
And for perhaps the first time since the wedding—
the perfectly controlled Mr. Mason is nowhere to be seen.
Jack's breathing shakes.
JACK
You're here.
Edie laughs through tears.
EDIE
I'm here.
Jack pulls back just enough to look at her.
His hands move to either side of her face.
He studies her like he needs physical proof.
JACK
Your hair.
Edie touches it self-consciously.
A tiny smile.
EDIE
Yeah.
She looks down at the dark strands.
EDIE
Apparently Castle Dracula has excellent conditioner.
Jack almost laughs.
Almost.
Edie's smile grows faintly.
EDIE
I thought you'd appreciate that before you started worrying about it.
Jack brushes a strand carefully behind her ear.
Then he sees it.
His hand stops.
On the side of Edie's neck—
two small puncture scars.
Healing.
But unmistakable.
Jack's expression changes.
Not dramatically.
That makes it worse.
His eyes go still.
His jaw tightens.
The hand against Edie's cheek begins trembling.
Mr. Mason returns—
but the structure is cracking.
Jack stares at the marks.
JACK
He hurt you.
The words barely come out.
Edie immediately places her hand over his.
EDIE
Jack—
JACK
He hurt you.
The second time is different.
Colder.
Something old and dangerous moves behind his eyes.
Negropolis straightens.
Polly knows that look.
So does Edie.
She steps closer until Jack has no choice but to look at her instead of the wounds.
EDIE
Look at me.
Jack does.
EDIE
I'm okay.
Jack's gaze flicks toward the bites again.
EDIE
Jack.
His eyes return to hers.
EDIE
Yes.
She takes a breath.
There is no point lying to him.
EDIE
He fed from me.
Jack's hand closes.
His wedding ring presses into his palm.
EDIE
But he didn't get what he wanted.
Jack says nothing.
Edie's voice strengthens.
EDIE
I fought him.
A beat.
EDIE
Every day.
Her thumb brushes across Jack's knuckles.
EDIE
Every conversation. Every dinner. Every time he tried to make that place feel normal.
She shakes her head.
EDIE
I remembered you.
Jack's face breaks slightly.
EDIE
I remembered Polly.
Polly's eyes fill.
EDIE
Negropolis. Ace. Flippers.
Then—
EDIE
Home.
A tear escapes Jack before he can stop it.
Edie catches it with her thumb.
EDIE
He didn't get me, Jack.
Jack closes his eyes.
His forehead lowers against hers.
JACK
I should have gotten to you sooner.
Edie's answer comes immediately.
EDIE
No.
Jack opens his eyes.
EDIE
We're not doing that.
A tiny trace of the old Edie is there.
Firm.
Warm.
Completely unimpressed with Jack Mason's capacity for self-punishment.
EDIE
I am not spending our reunion listening to my husband explain why everything in the universe is his responsibility.
That almost gets him.
Jack's mouth twitches.
EDIE
You came.
She squeezes his hand.
EDIE
I'm here.
A beat.
EDIE
That's enough for tonight.
Jack looks at her for several seconds.
Then quietly—
JACK
Okay.
Edie smiles.
Then she looks past him.
Her expression changes.
EDIE
Wait.
She looks around.
Negropolis.
Polly.
Leiton.
Ace.
No penguin.
Edie's eyes narrow.
EDIE
Where's Flippers?
For the first time since entering the room, there is something approaching normality.
Leiton answers from near the door.
LEITON SNAKE
North Pole.
Edie looks at him.
LEITON SNAKE
With Niven and Tobias.
A beat.
LEITON SNAKE
He's safe.
Edie visibly relaxes.
EDIE
Good.
Then—
EDIE
Do they understand that he steals food?
Leiton's expression remains perfectly straight.
LEITON SNAKE
They do now.
Edie laughs.
A real laugh.
Small.
But real.
Jack closes his eyes for half a second at the sound.
He has missed that sound.
More than he understood.
Polly finally steps forward.
Edie sees her.
For a moment, neither woman says anything.
Then Edie opens one arm.
Polly goes into it immediately.
Jack keeps his other arm around his wife as brother, sister, and Edie pull together in an awkward three-person embrace.
Polly's voice is muffled against Edie's shoulder.
POLLY
We came back.
Edie closes her eyes.
EDIE
I knew you would.
Polly holds her tighter.
Behind them, Negropolis looks away with the practiced expression of a man who would strongly prefer everyone believe he possesses no emotions whatsoever.
Ace notices.
He wisely says nothing.
Eventually Polly steps back.
Jack looks at Edie again.
Now that he has her—
his mind has already made the next decision.
JACK
We'll leave in the morning.
Van Helsing's voice comes from behind them.
VAN HELSING
No.
Jack turns.
The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees despite the heaters.
Mr. Mason slides neatly back into place.
MR. MASON
Excuse me?
Van Helsing does not react to the change.
He has seen far worse things than Jack Mason's politeness.
VAN HELSING
Edie cannot return to the North Pole yet.
Jack releases her slowly.
MR. MASON
You just told me Dracula cannot enter this place.
VAN HELSING
Correct.
MR. MASON
And the North Pole has defenses.
VAN HELSING
Not these defenses.
Jack's expression hardens.
MR. MASON
She's my wife.
Van Helsing's answer is quiet.
VAN HELSING
Which is precisely why I'm telling you the truth instead of what you want to hear.
Silence.
Carmilla steps forward.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
Edie resisted him.
Jack looks at her.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
Completely.
Edie nods.
Carmilla continues.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
But resistance does not mean Dracula left nothing behind.
Jack's eyes drift toward the marks on Edie's neck.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
She is marked by him.
Jack goes very still.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
That does not make her his.
Her voice becomes firmer.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
Understand the distinction.
Jack looks back at her.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
But his venom remains in her system.
Edie instinctively touches her neck.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
Her body is still reacting to it. The hair. The pallor. Other changes we are monitoring.
Jack's eyes narrow.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
It makes her vulnerable.
A beat.
CARMILLA NOCTURNE
Especially to him.
Van Helsing steps beside her.
VAN HELSING
Time is what she needs now.
MR. MASON
How much?
VAN HELSING
We don't know yet.
Jack dislikes that answer immediately.
Van Helsing sees it.
VAN HELSING
Days, perhaps longer. We will test her blood. Monitor the changes. Make certain Dracula has no remaining influence before she leaves the wards.
Edie steps beside Jack.
EDIE
They've already explained it to me.
Jack looks at her.
EDIE
They're right.
He studies her.
Then Van Helsing.
Then Carmilla.
A decision.
Simple.
MR. MASON
Fine.
Van Helsing waits.
Jack reaches for Edie's hand.
MR. MASON
Then I'll stay here.
Edie immediately answers.
EDIE
No.
Jack turns toward her.
Perhaps the only person alive who can tell Mr. Mason "no" that quickly and expect the conversation to continue.
MR. MASON
Edie—
EDIE
Jack.
That stops him.
She takes both his hands.
Her eyes move down briefly to his wedding ring.
Then back to him.
EDIE
I have Van Helsing.
She looks toward Carmilla.
EDIE
Carmilla.
Then Ace.
EDIE
Ace apparently refuses to leave until he's personally convinced I've eaten enough food to feed a hockey team.
Ace raises both hands.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Doctor's orders, lass.
Van Helsing looks toward him.
Ace pauses.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Well...
A beat.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Future doctor's orders.
Edie smiles despite herself.
Then turns back to Jack.
The smile fades into something softer.
Knowing.
EDIE
And you have somewhere else you need to be.
Jack's expression changes.
Just slightly.
Edie sees it.
Of course she does.
EDIE
You have a lesson to give.
Silence.
Negropolis looks toward Jack.
Polly does too.
Van Helsing understands immediately.
Carmilla's mouth almost forms a smile.
Jack looks at his wife.
For the first time since entering the room—
Mr. Mason smiles.
Not the cold smile he gives enemies.
Not the unnerving smile that appears before consequences.
Something warmer.
Because Edie remembers.
She understands the language he built while she was gone.
MR. MASON
Yes.
A beat.
His thumb brushes across her wedding ring.
MR. MASON
I do.
Edie tightens her grip on his hands.
EDIE
Then give him the lesson.
Jack's smile sharpens slightly.
But Edie is not finished.
EDIE
Jack.
He meets her eyes.
EDIE
Make sure it's your lesson.
That lands.
The smile changes again.
Less Mr. Mason.
More Jack.
JACK
I will.
Edie pulls him back into her arms.
This time Jack does not hesitate.
He embraces his wife.
Around them, the others quietly begin giving them space.
Van Helsing turns toward the door.
Carmilla follows.
Leiton gently guides Polly back.
Negropolis lingers for one moment longer.
Jack notices him over Edie's shoulder.
Negropolis gives him one slow nod.
She's home.
Jack closes his eyes.
Holds Edie tighter.
And for the first time since the doors of the North Pole Chapel disappeared behind green mist—
Jack Mason allows himself to believe it.
She came back.
Fade out.
SCENE 3 — ACE’S CHOICES
Location: Hunter’s Enclave / Watcher Arctic Outpost — Edie’s Quarters
For the first time since anyone arrived, the room almost feels normal.
Almost.
Jack sits beside Edie on the edge of the small couch, one hand wrapped around hers as though releasing it might somehow tempt fate.
Polly has pulled a chair close.
Leiton stands nearby, relaxed but watchful.
The conversation has drifted away from Castle Dracula.
Deliberately.
Edie is asking about the North Pole.
Polly is giving her the edited version.
Jack occasionally corrects something.
And, every so often, Edie laughs.
Each time she does, Jack looks at her.
Not obviously.
Just enough.
As though he is still reminding himself the sound is real.
Near the doorway, Ace MacDougal watches them.
For several seconds, he simply stands there.
Then his eyes move toward Negropolis.
Ace gives him a small nod toward the corridor.
Negropolis notices immediately.
Of course he does.
Ace slips outside.
After a moment, Negropolis follows.
Outside Edie’s Quarters
The door closes quietly behind them.
The corridor is deserted.
Low amber lights reflect off reinforced steel and the pale stone beneath it. Somewhere deeper in the outpost, machinery hums steadily.
Ace walks several steps away before stopping.
Negropolis leans against the opposite wall.
Arms folded.
Waiting.
Ace rubs both hands together.
Not because he is cold.
Negropolis recognizes that too.
NEGROPOLIS
What is it?
Ace looks toward the closed door.
From inside comes the faint sound of Edie laughing again.
Ace smiles.
A genuine one.
ACE MACDOUGAL
That.
Negropolis waits.
Ace nods toward the room.
ACE MACDOUGAL
That’s what I needed tae see.
The Scotsman lets out a long breath.
Some of the tension he has carried since Castle Dracula seems to leave with it.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I’m stayin’ here another couple days.
Negropolis nods.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Van Helsing wants someone familiar nearby while they keep an eye on her. And after everything the lass has been through...
He shrugs.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Well, I’m nae exactly in a hurry tae put her in a room full of ancient vampire hunters and disappear.
A faint pause.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Besides, somebody’s got tae make sure they feed her properly.
Negropolis looks at him.
NEGROPOLIS
She's a doctor.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Aye.
A beat.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Doctors are terrible patients.
Negropolis considers that.
NEGROPOLIS
Fair.
Ace smiles faintly.
Then the smile fades.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I’ll be back for Polar Power on Saturday.
Negropolis looks toward him.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Episode sixty-eight.
A small grin.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Can’t leave you lot unsupervised too long. Last time I did that, there was a chapel incident, vampires, demons and somebody threatened international diplomacy.
Negropolis remains expressionless.
NEGROPOLIS
That was a busy week.
Ace almost laughs.
Almost.
Then his eyes drift toward the floor.
The humor goes away.
Negropolis unfolds his arms.
NEGROPOLIS
There's something else.
Ace looks up.
For a moment, he considers denying it.
Then thinks better of it.
This is Negropolis.
Small lies have never survived very long around him.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Aye.
He reaches inside his coat, not for anything in particular, merely needing somewhere to put his hands.
ACE MACDOUGAL
There’s some family business I need tae take care of.
Negropolis studies him.
Ace continues before he can ask.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Urgent family business.
That distinction matters.
Negropolis hears it.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Something I’ve put off too long.
A silence.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Truth is, I probably should've dealt with it already.
He looks back toward Edie’s door.
ACE MACDOUGAL
But I couldnae leave.
Negropolis follows his gaze.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Not while Edie was still in that castle.
His voice lowers.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Not while Jack was walking around pretending he wasn’t coming apart.
A pause.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Not while there was still a chance I could help bring her home.
Ace swallows.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I had tae know she was safe before I could go deal with my own family.
Negropolis says nothing.
There is no need.
Ace gives him a tired smile.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Chosen family's funny that way.
Negropolis' gaze remains on him.
NEGROPOLIS
No.
Ace raises an eyebrow.
NEGROPOLIS
It isn't.
A beat.
NEGROPOLIS
It's family.
Ace looks at him.
For perhaps the first time tonight, the Scotsman has nothing clever to say.
He simply nods.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Aye.
Silence settles again.
Not uncomfortable this time.
Eventually Negropolis asks the obvious question.
NEGROPOLIS
How soon?
Ace draws in a breath.
ACE MACDOUGAL
After Fallout.
Negropolis' eyes narrow slightly.
NEGROPOLIS
August twenty-third.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Aye.
NEGROPOLIS
Immediately after?
Ace nods.
ACE MACDOUGAL
That's the plan.
Negropolis studies him for several seconds.
There are questions he could ask.
Where?
Who?
What happened?
Why now?
Instead—
NEGROPOLIS
Do you need help?
Ace looks genuinely touched.
He covers it quickly.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Ach, look at you. Nearly sounding human.
Negropolis' stare hardens.
NEGROPOLIS
Offer withdrawn.
ACE MACDOUGAL
No, no.
Ace raises his hands, grinning.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I'll treasure the moment forever.
The grin slowly fades again.
ACE MACDOUGAL
But no.
A beat.
ACE MACDOUGAL
This one's mine.
Negropolis nods once.
He understands that too.
NEGROPOLIS
How long will you be gone?
Ace hesitates.
That answer is harder.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I don't know.
Negropolis watches him.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Could be days.
A shrug.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Could be longer.
Another silence.
ACE MACDOUGAL
I'll make sure you know what ye need before I go.
Negropolis' voice remains low.
NEGROPOLIS
Jack won't like it.
Ace smiles faintly.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Jack doesn't like anyone leaving.
That is said without humor.
Because they both know why.
Ace continues.
ACE MACDOUGAL
But he'll understand.
Negropolis looks toward the door again.
NEGROPOLIS
He will now.
Ace follows his gaze.
Inside that room, Jack has his wife back.
That changes things.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
Ace nods.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Aye.
Then—
ACE MACDOUGAL
Anyway.
The familiar MacDougal armor begins sliding back into place.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Enough gloomy corridor conversations. If I stay out here much longer, somebody will assume I'm secretly dying.
Negropolis considers him.
NEGROPOLIS
Are you?
Ace stares at him.
ACE MACDOUGAL
No.
NEGROPOLIS
Then we're safe.
Ace shakes his head.
ACE MACDOUGAL
You're an odd man.
NEGROPOLIS
You manage professional wrestlers and a penguin.
A beat.
Ace points at him.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Fair.
He turns toward Edie's quarters.
His hand rests on the door control.
Before pressing it, Ace looks back.
The humor disappears one final time.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Neg.
Negropolis meets his eyes.
ACE MACDOUGAL
If anything happens—
Negropolis cuts him off.
NEGROPOLIS
It won't.
Ace raises an eyebrow.
NEGROPOLIS
But if it does...
A beat.
NEGROPOLIS
We'll handle it.
Ace's expression softens.
ACE MACDOUGAL
That's what worries me.
The door opens.
Warm conversation spills briefly into the corridor.
Ace steps inside.
Before the door closes, Jack's voice can be heard.
JACK (O.S.)
Ace, tell her what happened with the snow globe.
Ace freezes.
ACE MACDOUGAL
Oh, for God's sake.
Edie laughs.
The door closes.
Negropolis remains in the corridor.
Alone.
The amusement disappears from his face.
He waits several seconds.
Then reaches inside his coat and removes his phone.
The screen lights his skull mask in pale blue.
A secure conversation is already open.
Sent shortly before they departed for the outpost.
There are only two messages.
Negropolis' message:
NEGROPOLIS:
It's time for you to come North.
Below it—
the response.
RESPONSE:
I will be there on Saturday August 15th.
Negropolis stares at the words.
No reaction.
No smile.
But his eyes remain on the date.
Saturday.
August 15th.
Polar Power 068.
He locks the phone.
The screen goes black.
For a moment, his reflection stares back at him from the glass.
Negropolis slips the phone into his coat.
Then looks toward Edie's door.
Ace was preparing to leave.
Jack had changed.
Something inside the Misfits was shifting again.
And Negropolis had already made his own preparations.
He reaches for the door control.
It opens.
Warm light falls across the corridor.
Edie's voice carries from inside.
EDIE (O.S.)
Negropolis, get in here. Apparently Jack thinks the South Pole story gets better every time he tells it.
A pause.
Negropolis steps inside.
NEGROPOLIS
It does not.
The door closes behind him.
The corridor becomes empty once more.
FADE TO BLACK.
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