Not Until We Are Lost

Piotr was finding it hard to enjoy all the beauty. His gut told him, paired with experience, that a place this lovely had to be highly dangerous. It had to be. The sun shone down on him, warming his skin and washing away the cold of the snow, as well as the nostalgic feeling he'd had while he'd been on the last planet. He felt less calm and less willing to be accepting of what was going on.

Which could also be due to everything being so seemingly perfect.

He wanted to find Rob as soon as possible. He'd been enjoying the direction of their last talk. Not so much the subject matter, but the actions that had taken place while they'd been discussing the difficult things. There was hope that they could progress even further. Piotr was certain that he wasn't just being foolish.

The Russian headed toward a lake he could see, hoping that it would take him out of the thick forest.

Snow. So much snow. And lights. And merriment. And what the hell was going on?

Rob had grown comfortable in the university world, even with the mutants and threats of destruction by some force that wasn't exactly supernatural. He'd grown comfortable and possibly lazy. Just a little lazy. Not that he'd stopped working out or looking after himself. He had hoped to see more of Piotr, but the man seemed to need some time to himself, which Rob would give without complaint. He had asked for time, or at least put a pause one whatever might come. Piotr had every right to do the same.

After checking the new Christmasy cabin for bugs, charms, and whatever else might be used to hinder or spy, Rob got dressed, grabbed a muffin that had been set out for him - he was hungry after all that snooping - then headed out to see what other winter wonderland craziness he might find. He was not prepared for what greeted him first.

There sat a not sp sullen yet completely underdressed in little more than a long sleeve shirt and jeans Russian making a snowman.

"Well, that's one way to deal with the cold."

Piotr stood in the admissions office of a university. Just being on the campus had begun to rise unpleasant memories in his mind. Its hallways looked an awful lot like the hallways of Malden. Whether they actually did, or it was just him imposing his ill feelings upon them was up for debate.

He was in a very bad mood. A piece of paper in his hand. He was leaning on the counter that a nonplussed woman sat behind on a stool. She looked like she had explained something to him once already, and was waiting for him to run out of steam so she could explain it again.

The Russian had no idea how long he'd been talking, but he was sure he was talking in circles.

"I am not a student." He said again. "I have not been a student for a very long time. If anything, I am faculty. I have taught Russian, physical education, and ethics. If you need one of those, I will do this. But I am NOT a student!"

"Mr Rasputin, you have your class schedule. I know that it can be difficult coming from another place as an exchange student, but these kinds of shenanigans are frowned upon at..."

"I AM NOT A STUDENT! Exchange or otherwise! I have been a teacher since the time that I was nineteen! I worked at Malden, in England! I will not attend a college!"

"If you do not attend your classes, Mr Rasputin, that is up to you. We can't force you to do it, obviously. This is college, it's optional. But it's too late in the semester to get your money back."

Piotr stared at her, dumbfounded.

Natasha didn't have the chance to note the time when all hell broke loose. She just knew that one minute, things were quiet along the beach. And the next, not so much. Something came galloping her way with a loud roar. She found herself looking into the face of something that was gigantic, scaly, and a had a mouth full of teeth. She smirked a little. Kind of reminded her of the aliens that had tried to take Manhattan. Granted, she'd had a full team backing her up then, but she wasn't going to just roll over and die for one thing that looked like it had been whacked repeatedly with an ugly stick.

She pulled out both her guns and aimed for the thing's face. If it got close enough, it would taste the sting of her bracers. But she had to hope that bullets would take it down before it got too close.

She also had to hope that this was the only creature loose in here. If anything else got in, she had a feeling that Bruce's other half would make an appearance. If that happened, she would need to be nearby to help talk him down before too much damage was done. The Hulk was a good ally to have in a fight, but he was still as much a wild card as anything else. She just had to hope that she could make quick work of this creature and find Bruce.

Like the well trained soldier that he was, as soon as Piotr woke up in the strange room, he swept it for any signs of his weapons. When he found only the letter, Piotr left the room in search of others. The ones that mattered.

He found none of them.

His Yana. He'd been so happy to have her. Even if she was not his sister, not truly, she was still his sister, and he would have died for her. Given his life for her. Was she back where she should be now? Was that better than here? It didn't seem like it to him. She'd been kept, like he had, turned into something no child should be. Like he had. Castiel was also absent. His friend, the only man that Piotr had called friend in a very long time. They had fought together, they had bonded. He had felt that Castiel had known him in a way that no others could. They were both social idiots, learning to get along in the real world. When he also couldn't find Rayne, the woman he had pledged to keep safe, Piotr gave up.

The brood that overcame him was one he hadn't really sunk into since he'd been at Malden. Since losing JP. He didn't want to look for anybody else, because he was afraid of who else he might have lost. There were other names he had floating through his mind, the names of people he cared about, but he couldn't take it.

What clothing he found didn't make anything better. Piotr had woken up in a bright Hawaiian print shirt with clashing Hawaiian print shorts, and had only been able to find a pair of flipflops to wear out of the room. It made him feel stupid. Abandoning the room in the outfit, despite his reservations of doing so, Piotr sought out the resort bar. He sat on a stool close to a wall, but gave up trying to face the entrance as there was one that went into the hotel part itself, and then the whole goddamned back was open to the beach. All he could do was angle himself so that the wall was at his back.

The mutant ordered vodka and got a foofy drink with an umbrella in it, instead. He didn't have it in him to fight with the bartender. He'd drink the colorful drink and be a lot more specific next time.

Ever since the island, Cas had examined every part of the ship he could find. He refused to believe it was from lack of trying - the ship was large and there were many places to be in at once. Being unable to transport himself inevitably made finding Piotr difficult. Being unable to sense his soul in the same way he'd once been able to made it doubly so. Still, he asked around and patrolled the corridors when he couldn't sleep. He doubted Anna appreciated it, but it was something he could explain to her. He'd lost several friends already. In his own reality and aboard the cruise liner. He had no intention of losing anyone else.

Primarily, he frequented the food counter. Everyone required sustenance and therefore would have to visit it eventually. There was obviously either something he was missing or Piotr had reverted to his steel form to remain in stasis indefinitely. Either that or their hosts had finally decided he was in some way biologically useful to them. Cas never believed in conspiracy theories, but it wasn't something he wished to entirely rule out. After all, they were only playthings in the eyes of said hosts.

He also smoked. More than usual. More yet, seeing as none of his weapons worked properly outside of their rooms. It made defending themselves in the night viable, but little else. It annoyed him and though they were useless to him in his current state, he still drew his wings up closer to his back. It was out of habit more than anything else, feeling a need to self-protect at all times.

And even when he saw the larger man - easily several heads taller than the rest of the passengers, he still didn't remove them. For all he knew, he wasn't seeing anything correctly. Approaching the other man, however, he still smiled. It was faint, but...it was still there. It wasn't something Cas extended to very many. "Hello, Piotr."

Illyana woke up in a strange room. She had her clothing, her prosthetic boots, her favorite semi automatic pistols. Alright. Strange. The sixteen year old could roll with strange. She holstered her weapons, put on boots designed to hide her infernal cloven feet and drew a hood up over her horns. It wasn't a perfect disguise and whoever abducted her clearly already knew what she looked like, but on the off chance she escaped she needed to be able to blend in on the street.

It surprised her when the door opened freely.

Skrulls? This looked like a Skrull set up.

Why would they let her wander the halls of some strange place armed? Illyana could walk comfortably enough in her boots, but it did cost her a little speed. Something wasn't right about this anyway. Maybe it was a test.

"Haha guys. Come on. What is this?"

Illyana was never a fan of stealth, anyway. She was sixteen. She liked explosions.

The island ended for Piotr with a shock. One that he woke up from in a cold sweat. The feeling of being not in control of himself was almost physically painful. He found himself checking his various parts to make sure that they were still there. It took Piotr a moment to get his bearings, to realize that he wasn't in an island setting at all anymore. There were things around him that were his. The bed wasn't, the dresser wasn't, but his guns were on top of that dresser, his shoes were laying by a chair.

As calmly as he could, he got out of the bed and had a look around. There was something like relief when he found his suitcases in a closet, and nothing else was missing.

He had a shower and dressed in one of his suits. It felt very good to be wearing his own clothes. The finely tailored items he'd picked out himself, paid for himself, and fit him better in both style and comfort than the jeans and shirt of the island had. Though, those clothes were there too, somehow. Piotr distinctly remembered not wearing them.

The hallway outside of his room was circular, and there were doors along the wall all the way around. He saw one that did not fit with the others. Approaching it, it opened, and he discovered an elevator. There were only two buttons, and Piotr poked them both. The top one did not light, which meant that was the floor he was on. The doors closed and took him to his new destination.

It was like a common room, Malden had had one. He saw several different areas, but the one that really caught his eye had food. There was a window, and an alien standing on the other side of it. Piotr couldn't even bring himself to care about that alien, or any of the others that were milling about. All he wanted was food. Real food. Not foraged food, not the pitiful bread, cheese, and soup he'd been barely able to afford. He wanted something that used to moo, and he wanted it almost still mooing. He wanted a giant chocolate shake, and fries. Greasy, delicious fried potato fries.

The alien was more than happy to get these things for him, asking Piotr if he'd prefer steak or a hamburger. Piotr said yes, and when his plate came, he had both. He also ordered a large Coke to go with all of it, and took his tray to one of the tables to sit at. When he was done eating, then he'd consider the alien he'd spoken to, and the fact that he wasn't seeing any of the other people from the group, just a lot of aliens.

When he was finished.

Piotr hadn't known if Rayne or Phaedra were on the island with him, but the first thing he did anyway was find a place that they could be safe from the sun. He secured the cave and assured himself that there weren't things living inside of it. There was a small encounter with a redhead, but she'd taken up residence in a side shoot, and Piotr was careful to give her space, since she didn't look like she wanted to be bothered.

He thought he'd keep an eye on her anyway, even if she hadn't asked.

Once the cave was made suitable for one or two vampires who might need it, he decided that it was time to venture out and see to himself and his own needs. If it came down to it, he could slide the steel over his flesh and do without food and water for as long as it took the aliens to place them somewhere else, but it wasn't a prospect that Piotr really looked forward to.

And as soon as he really had a tour of the island, he discovered that it wasn't a worry at all. There was a freshwater stream, and food everywhere. Really, he didn't even have to hunt to eat, though he thought it would be fairly easy to catch game. It was an island, after all. Not a lot of places for prey to run.

Then it was time to see who might be around. Piotr hoped that it would be easy enough to find his friends. He was tired of looking for people. Tired of everybody being split apart. But as soon as he was on the beach and spotted the second island, he knew that not everybody would be here with him. Rayne might be on that other place, without anybody to watch out for her. He didn't like that.

The mutant stood at the edge of the beach, right in the tree line, contemplating a swim to the other island. Perhaps he was completely alone here. The last to cross. Everybody might be on the other side, wondering if he'd been left behind wherever the aliens left them. It couldn't be too hard to get over there. He didn't have to even breathe, after all, when the metal was there.

A noise in the brush stopped him from moving. Piotr waited to see who or what might appear at his side.

Following the failed hunt with Cas and Jo, Piotr was more determined than ever to find something that would make him feel like he was doing something with his life. He went to the docks before the sun even started to rise, and ended up with a job fifteen minutes after that. The foreman admitted that he’d hired the Russian based on size alone, but it didn’t take very long at all for Piotr to prove that he had actual muscle behind the look.

He worked all day without tiring. It felt good, getting his hands dirty. That wasn’t just euphemism, either. Piotr was completely filthy by the end of the work day, hauling boxes from the ship to the dock and vice versa. There was no sweat, however, which impressed the foremen and some of the other guys as well.

Very carefully, he’d said almost nothing all day, using physical movements to indicate his answers as much as he could. And when that didn’t work, one word answers took over. Piotr could say yes and no with very little of his accent coming through. Longer words betrayed him slightly, but most didn’t seem to care.

After his third day, Piotr was approached after his shift by a group of men who seemed to be more excited than the average beer-post-work crowd. They cornered him, and he wondered very briefly if they were going to try to bring him down with violence. Perhaps somebody had finally taken ill to his nationality.

It was made clear very quickly, however, that they wanted something else. More than one of them started jabbering away at once, and Piotr had to get them to slow down. Eventually it was expressed that they wanted him to join a bare knuckle boxing ring. Underground kinds of stuff. Maybe not truly illegal in these times, but the kinds of things that would be eventually. Immediately, he agreed to it.

Maybe it was cheating, having his training, his size, and his invulnerability when his steel was present. But that last one wouldn’t be used at all in these endeavors. It was still an incredible advantage. He wasn’t going to let that information out, however. He was just going to get in the ring, bet for himself, and rake in the cash. He even found a fellow who was willing to make these bets so nobody else would know about them, for a very reasonable cut, at that.

Piotr’s first match went well. He let the guy get in a couple of hits, then took him down with a few of his own. After he went through half a dozen men with no signs of slowing or tiring, they pulled him out of the rest of the fights, deciding that they needed to find somebody worthy of standing against him. He became the one to beat. He became the monster under the bed, the myth that circled through the city’s lower classes.

More importantly, he made money.

He moved Rayne to a much nicer place, renting a hotel suite for the both of them, giving him a way to make sure that she was safe while allowing her a private room at the same time. And he began to save money to not only pay Rob back, but take him out on the date that he’d promised. The way he was going gave him hope that it would all go much faster than he had anticipated. Especially considering he kept the day job for appearances.

The nature of the invite was suspect, though the entire conversation had been wrong. The woman who had offered had told him they needed a bartender - naturally, he'd assumed that was Harry's decision to make, but even as his current employer gave the woman his blessing likely in favor of monetary gain, Cas had watched the woman closely. Yvette Simmons, or so her name had been. Wife of Daniel Simmons. She'd never blinked. She had ordered a drink, though she'd not touched it. She'd sat at the bar, looking as if she'd been waiting for someone. And in terms of dress, she'd not fit in along with the rest. Too rich. Likely more than enough money to afford a better place to drink. He may have had poor skills in terms of reading others, but...he could at least pick up on simple details.

Yet he was locked into going and it was just as well. If this needed the attention of a hunter...then Cas was all too willing to investigate, especially due to the fact that there had been nothing to hunt as of late. It made him...very uncomfortable, to say the least. Not having a cause to serve inevitably took its toll and while he was pleased about recent developments regarding Anna, he still needed a mission of some kind.

Knowing all too well that his mutant friend would also appreciate it, he'd tracked the other man down. It was surprisingly easier to do than he would have expected. Knocking on the door to the hotel room, he still looked over his shoulder. Made certain he was not being watching. There may have only been a speck of angel left within him. He knew that...but he'd learned to trust his Grace. It had never wronged him, but...to say never was likely a misnomer. There was always a distinct possibility it someday would.

This was not one of those times. When the other man answered the door, he looked up and met the other man's eye, unblinking and stiff. It was still a habit that was ingrained in him, no matter what species he'd adopted as his own.

"Hello, Piotr."

Piotr got Rayne settled into a hotel room and took one of his own nearby. They'd run into a little bit of trouble with the money thing, discovering that the money he carried did not look at all like the money that their current planet used. Rayne did something that caused the clerk at the desk to trust that they would pay, and gave them the rooms. Piotr knew that he was going to have to find a job, he couldn't let Rayne down. She had also done her thing to assure that the room was safe for her to be in during the day. He hadn't asked questions, not wanting to risk her being distracted before she got a chance to finish her work. He figured he could ask later, when the sun wasn't threatening the horizon.

He'd decided to go out and gather some supplies while she was sleeping, and to see if he could find a suitable job for himself. The fact that he had a Russian accent was going to play badly for him in this era, as it had already started to show him. He hoped that if he continued to claim to be a defector, that somebody would eventually grant him work.

Most of his morning was a failure, manager and owner after manager and owner turning him away without hesitation. He had a feeling that he was going to have to resort to manual labor. Something with construction or heavy lifting, something that he could keep his mouth shut for. Prove himself with his ability to lift more than the humans here. If he could reply to questions in monosyllables and play dumb, maybe he could get by.

Before he continued that quest, however, he decided to stop into a book store. He wanted to get Rayne a few things to read, and some for himself as well. There was a small, quaint chime of a bell when he opened the door.

The last memory Rayne of Kenyon possessed was talking softly with the strange and canny human called Eva. Now, as if waking from a long sleep, the chatelaine found herself seated on a one-piece bench with a table before her, hands neatly folded in her lap, ankles crossed. Her clothing was quite strange -- a knee-length black dress that followed the lines of her form, a belt that seemed more decorative than functional, and stone jewelry that carried the sense of blood. None of what she wore was hers.

Alarm, it would seem, was destined to be her closest companion.

The strangest part of this place was the monochromatic scheme of -- everything, of everyone. It was beautiful, but dim -- like too little starlight on a very deep night. Even the jewelry on her wrist and hand, that she would have imagined as garnet or ruby, instead carried a rich shade of gray. Rayne lifted one long-fingered hand, extended her fingers -- and a passing human woman slapped a bit of lacquered, folded paper into her curved palm. Instinctively, Rayne caught it and gave the young woman an inquisitive glance. In response, the woman only said, "The waffles are good."

Waffles. "Indeed," Rayne responded, looking at the writing on the folded paper. What were waffles? And what was this sheet? It seemed to be some sort of menu, crudely produced -- and stained. Rayne delicately set it on the polished wooden table.

Around her, the same sort of scene was playing out at other tables. From her vantage point, she recognized no one, but her observations - quick as they were - told her she was not quite as alone in this bizarre tableau as she felt.

Eventually, Piotr decided that enough socializing had gone on. People knew that their friends and loved ones were here with them, and that was a good thing. They could catch up further later, however. If he didn't interrupt, the meeting would go on far longer than anybody wanted it to. He'd provided some snacks, but no actual food. There would be a need for actual food at some point.

He cleared his throat to get the attention of everybody present.

"We are all here right now for the same purpose." Piotr's voice wasn't loud, but it was demanding. His accent cut through everything else easily. The edges of it were sharp, the middles heavy. He wouldn't, couldn't be ignored. "All of us were brought to this place, world or dimension, and we have all been seeking answers since we woke up. It is time to share what we have found."

He smiled a little at Mary, at Cas, then at Rob, still not giving up his position.

"I will do this in the most orderly manner that I can, so we can get the information and compare notes as needed."

Piotr turned to Castiel, who had spoken up first.

Piotr was anxious to get everything rolling. While putting the meeting off had given extra time to round up others who might need to be in on it, it meant a delay of information that he wasn't truly comfortable with. He'd managed to play it off with everybody that he'd encountered, making as if this wasn't as big a deal as it really was to him. Inside, Piotr had been twitchy. Anything could happen at any time. They were all dealing with the unknown. There were too many variables, the risk was far too high. Lingering only swayed things away from their favor.

It was very domestic, the way he readied for the guests. He didn't let Max lift a finger. It was the only way he could keep himself from stewing, really. To move, work. Put plates together. Ready beverages. Create a spread that Martha Stewart would have been proud of.

He even dressed up.

Black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie, shiny black shoes, hair combed impeccably, guns tucked away in their holsters under his arms and hidden carefully by the jacket of his expensive outfit. Not a lick of metal showing anywhere to give him away, and that was more a throwback to the long nights of watching a mark than anything else. Piotr didn't have any good reason for it now, but it felt right.

When there was nothing left to do, he leaned against the arm of the couch and worried his lip between his teeth. There wasn't a watch to check on his wrist, so he glanced every few minutes at the clock on the wall, ticking away in its hideous orange and purple motif, strange detached bunny ears the hands, a mangled face grinning behind them. It was disturbing at best, though Piotr didn't really see the image, just the minutes.

The doorbell rang and he opened it, taking up the entire doorway. He smiled at the first guests and stood aside to allow them in. He made motions toward the table of snacks and directed them toward the kitchen for drinks. Every single newcomer got the same treatment. Max still not allowed to do anything that might have taken even an iota of the control out of the Russian's hands. They weren't military people, those who were showing up, they weren't highly trained like he was, but he would be damned if he wasn't in command of everything.

There were so many faces that he didn't recognize, and still no sign of the one that he was still seeking. Rayne was not with any of the others that showed up. Piotr couldn't help the worry he felt for his charge. The strange woman who he'd met in Malden, what felt like a hundred years ago now. He didn't ask after her, knowing that if any of these people knew her, she would have been here. He'd been careful to set the time of the meeting right after sunset to accommodate her and any others that might be like her. If she was here, by some strange chance, and had not been informed of the meeting, and hadn't come looking for him, if she had, in fact, decided to keep herself secret, then she had a reason for it, and it wasn't Piotr's place to draw attention to her. The hope of that was beyond slim, however, and he knew it. She wasn't here, he just had to admit it.

He let everybody mingle for almost an hour, to make sure that all the people that had been told had a change to show up. That and it was obvious that some of them had been looking for each other for a while, and they were just now discovering one another. He couldn't bring himself to break that up. He knew how he would have felt if he'd found his friend. He wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else but making sure that she was alright.

Finally, he stood in the center of the living room, his eyes skating over the seating, knowing that there wasn't enough for everybody and regretting it, and cleared his throat to get the attention of the assembled.

"We are all here right now for the same purpose." Piotr's voice wasn't loud, but it was demanding. His accent cut through everything else easily. The edges of it were sharp, the middles heavy. He wouldn't, couldn't be ignored. "All of us were brought to this place, world or dimension, and we have all been seeking answers since we woke up. It is time to share what we have found."

He smiled a little at Mary, at Cas, then at Rob, still not giving up his position.

Apples...check.
Bananas...check.
Squash of all shapes, sizes, and colors...

Rob had filled his carry basket with just enough to get him through the week. He'd found that he'd come to this place with a decent amount of money, and he knew how to spend carefully. Being raised as a hunter and a Man of Letters had certainly given him an interesting look on spending frugally. He looked over the squash and gourds, amazed by just how many pumpkins and pumpkin-like vegefruits existed. Pumpkins seemed too much like vegetables, even if they were technically fruit. He knew there were different pumpkins, but this was just too much.

Claiming a spaghetti squash that was oddly colored, a slight pinkish hue to it, he stuffed it in the small basket and turned to find something that wasn't at all good for him. He needed something to off set all the healthful food in the pink and purple basket he had hooked his arm through. He needed something that said living free and single and male - it wasn't that he was thinking in that way, so much as he did want something that would balance out the basket. No one needed everything that was good for him or her, a little bad was just right.

He turned the corner of the snack aisle, not paying complete attention to where he was going. Some chocolate covered cake shaped like a bat had caught his eye just as he was rounding the corner.

Even after being assured there were no creatures resembling those he was used to, Cas had found himself just as restless as he had been aboard the cruise liner. Mary had been very kind to him and he appreciated it, but...with Dean still missing and little else to do, he saw no reason not to patrol the area. He hadn't been ready to mention it, but there was something wrong with the neighbourhood and the planet they happened to be on. He just didn't know how to describe it.

..But he'd not expected what he'd found.

Generally, he'd always been fond of ducks. Rabbits also to a certain degree, but he'd taken a small pleasure in watching ducks at the various parks on Earth. Now that they were attacking him, he had only slightly revised that sentiment.

For one, they had teeth and that alone made them dangerous. He'd never had any desire to hunt them, but the first one that leaped at him was met with a quick shot to the body area. The clip was loaded with standard rounds, considering he'd not seen the necessity for salt rounds or anything silver. In hindsight, he'd thought perhaps he should have opted for a larger weapon altogether, though he also idly noticed that the discharge of the weapon had upset no one. Strange.

When he'd happened upon the very large man several houses down the row from Mary's, he stopped and switched his gun for his blade. This would require some quick thinking, if the man was indeed being attacked. Instead of asking, he simply targeted one of the rabbits and slashed at it. Hard.

Mary had found her mother and now had found someone who was apparently her brother in an alternate reality, but there were others that she hadn't found. Her dad, and she knew that Jo was just as worried as she was about that one. Johnny-she didn't even want to think about losing him. Not when she'd already gone through losing a version of him. There was even a part of her that half-hoped the Doctor might be here. It wasn't that she would wish getting kidnapped and dropped on a weird planet on anyone, but she really wanted to talk to the Time Lord. She had a feeling that he might be able to shed some light on the situation here. And even if not, it might be nice to talk to someone who'd done quite a bit of time traveling. Her mind was reeling from the mysterious relative, especially as she tried to sort through all of the maddeningly vague hints he'd given to her. There were things that just didn't add up, comments that he'd made that she knew didn't fit with what she'd inferred. It was just figuring out the hows and whys of everything that wasn't working.

She didn't even bother to hide her gun right now. The shotgun was clutched in her hands like a security blanket as she explored the street that she'd first landed on, glancing toward each of the houses in turn and half-tempted to start knocking on doors to see if Dean, Johnny, or the Doctor were in any of them. She wondered about Jack too. Had everyone who'd been in the supposedly fake Electric City ended up here? And where was here, exactly?

Mary let out a little huff of frustration as she passed lawn after lawn filled with displays of Easter and Halloween finery, all mixed together in some sort of bizarre hybrid of the two holidays. As though normal people decorated their yards for either holiday like it was Christmas. As though the two holidays were meant to be combined. Hallowster? Easterween? What was this place?

Mostly, she'd taken to listening for the sounds of doors opening, looking up each time she thought she heard one as though one of the people she was looking for might appear at any time. She had to have hope that she'd see them again. That they hadn't been left when she'd been abducted to this planet. She had to have hope, or else what else would she have left?

Max didn't remember going to bed with a warm body; in fact, he didn't remember curling up in bed at all. He distinctly remembered going to sleep on the couch, which was the spot he'd grown rather accustomed to passing out at. But, when he started to wake up, he felt a body beside him and could hear the breathing.

Not sure if he was dreaming or if he had somehow managed to get into a multicab situation with a new friend, he went with it. He ignored his instinct for the moment, the one that highly suggested opening his eyes and looking; no, instead, he rolled over and wrapped his arm about the body, sliding a leg over as well.

He would have snuggled in a little more, but the scent coming off the body wasn't what it should have been. It wasn't death, something odd that Max worried would happen - waking up with a dead body - but male. There had been a time or two in college he'd woken up next to a fellow male collegiate, but he hadn't done something like that in a long time.

"Evan, if you're in my bed, get out." was mumbled. "If I'm in yours, suck it." came mumbled after.

The plane landed in Electric City a good deal earlier than it was supposed to.

Piotr had met Rayne again at the pub where they'd first encountered one another. He had spent the day teaching his classes and arranging for an immediate emergency leave of absence from the school. He had packed his things and locked his door. His new room in the faculty dorms was much like his old one. Very secure. Reinforced. Paranoid. He had not bothered to transfer the safety measures from one to the other, just outfitted the new one. Some kid was living in his old dorm room and had no idea the truths behind the walls, the strength of the door. It gave Piotr a bit of a kick to think about.

When Piotr had packed, he had put it all in two cases. A bigger one that would be checked, and a smaller one that would go with him. Both bags had weapons inside. The bag that he would carry on had a false bottom with safety measures which blocked the packed guns from xray. As far as the machines were concerned, all that was in there was a change of clothes, his toiletries, a few books, and a sketch pad. Inside of the secret compartment, Piotr had stored a pair of automatic pistols with extra clips and silencers, a trio of incendiary devices, and a couple of blades of varying sorts. All safely nestled in foam to keep them from moving around.

The bigger bag held more clothing, and more weapons. Again a secret compartment. Again with foam. But a much larger assortment.

The books had been for Rayne. Information about the world, the universe, America and one about Russia. He wanted her to know what she was getting into. The one about America talked about the culture there. The way that people were. He didn't want her to be surprised by the way that people would talk or the clothing that she would see. The cars, the lights, the grandiose amount of food that would come on places she ordered, even if she had no plans to eat anything.

Piotr had arranged for their seats to be at the very front of the nose in first class. Nobody in front of them could open a window and expose Rayne to the sun. He still didn't know if she couldn't deal with the sun at all, or if it just weakened her. But he wasn't going to risk anything. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask her, really. He had decided to save them all until they were safely at their destination. Piotr got the feeling that Rayne didn't want to talk about what she was in any place where she might be overheard. He would respect that and keep all queries to himself until they were safely within the suite of rooms he had arranged to be waiting for them.

The plane had made too good of time, however, and they got to Electric City while the sun was still up. Piotr sheepishly explained to the flight attendant that his companion had taken sleeping medication because she was not a very good flyer. He was asked if he needed help, and he declined it. He said that he merely needed to wait until the other passengers were off the plane so that he wouldn't jostle her or accidentally run into anybody else. They happily allowed for this.

Piotr strode through the airport with Rayne bundled in his arms, pressed against his chest. They had given him a thin blanket to cover her with, so she would not be gawked at nor bothered by the light. He was glad of this, since he didn't know if the sun coming through the windows of the throughway would bother her. His carry-on was also easily carried. Adding anything more, however, would be a bit awkward. For this reason, Piotr hired the services of a Skycap, and instructed the man to retrieve the bigger bag and find a cab.

While standing in the shadows with Rayne, watching for his bag so he could point it out, Piotr retrieved one of the guns from the false bottom in his carry-on. He tucked it neatly at the small of his back. He did all of this without putting the vampire down. She was his charge. In need of his protection. He would not let her down.

Almost as soon as the luggage carousel began to function, the Skycap had his bag on the cart and they were out of the airport entirely. Piotr tipped the man a large amount, but not so big that he would be remembered for long.

They were in Electric City. Hopefully the answers would be found soon.