WHO: Nathan Petrelli, Annie Wheaton, Buffy Summers (NPC with permission), Peter Petrelli, Darla WHERE: Darla's secret hideout WHEN: a few days ago, during Spike's assault on the Hyperion WHAT: Rescuing Peter RATING: R STATUS: log; COMPLETE
While it wasn't his best landing, Nathan managed to get himself, Annie and Buffy on the ground without incident mere seconds later. Twenty blocks were of no consequence to him, even with passengers. Letting go of both of them, he cocked the shotgun and raised it, then moved the axe to a better position to grab it as well if it proved necessary. So armed, he stepped forward toward the property.
From so far away, the only thing that had been clearly was that rocks had been falling. In front of it now, he could see that, rather than being completely crushed, the rocks had simply taken out parts of the roof. They were littered around the yard as well and he moved around them with a dismissive air. What he was seeking was inside, even though he had no idea what that thing was.
He approached the front and looked in a window, staying back against the frame to keep himself from view in case someone was looking out. Inside, the place was demolished, but there was no clear sign yet as to why Annie had chosen to visit her upset on this place. He turned his head to look at her briefly. Right now, being able to think at her was a blessing, as it meant making less noise.
What's in there, Annie?
Annie had simply stood where they'd landed, her gaze on her bunny until Nathan spoke to her. Raising her head a bit, she stared solomnly at him. The front door swung open. "No 'oogeyman," she murmured, repeating the very same thing she'd told Sister, once. "'Oogeylady." Then she headed toward the entrance, not fearing in the slightest whoever, or whatever, was inside.
She was less than ten feet from the entrance when a vampire emerged. Annie stopped and stared at the creature for a moment and it erupted into dust. She continued forward, pausing to glance back at Nathan and Buffy. "Pe--ter." She nodded decisively and disappeared inside the building.
That last announcement was all Nathan needed to follow suit and move inside, no longer paying attention to anything but Annie. Peter, and whoever this blonde woman who had taken him was, were both in there. He stepped over fallen pieces of ceiling and more, keeping right on Annie's heels the entire time. Only once did he remember keeping aware of his surroundings would be wise, but the thought was dismissed a few moments later. Annie had the vampires under control, after all. Perhaps it was the sign of a one-track mind, setting aside those concerns to be dealt with by a young girl, but then Annie was likely the exception to most every situation.
She didn't know exactly where Peter was, but she knew he wasn't crushed. So she didn't bother looking for him under any debris. She just calmly kept moving through the house, finally ending up on the far side of it. Vampires were close - she could just feel them - but she also felt something... else. Something familiar.
A door just up ahead, past the kitchen, slowly swung open. Annie glanced back to Nathan. She said but one word.
"Brother."
Then she turned, stepping into the kitchen, and staring calmly at the dozen or so vamps who seemed to creep out of the very shadows, blocking her path. Her brow furrowed when one snarled at her, and her hair blew away from her face as an unseen wind parted the vampires like the Red Sea. As they scrambled to right themselves, Annie looked to Nathan once more.
"Brother," she insisted, desperate for him to understand and go. She and Buffy could surely take care of the vampires. Peter needed him.
Strangely, or perhaps no so much, Nathan hadn't needed her to repeat the word, not at first. The moment the door had opened and she spoke, he knew where he would be going. Peter was there and that was where he would be. The vampires arrival, however, gave him pause, but only for a moment. Annie had dealt with two now in front of them, Buffy clearly knew what she was doing and they could look after each other.
It was as though Annie had seen his conflict. Perhaps she had. Whatever the case, he took that as confirmation the vampires would be dealt with and took off toward the opened door. This time there was little caution, not as there had been in approaching the building. There was only the fierce desire to get to Peter now.
He descended the stairs in record time and all but burst into the basement. The sight that greeted him was initially horrifying, as he felt as though he had stumbled into some sort of medieval torture chamber. However, that horror was nothing compared to what he felt as his gaze settled on the table. There would never be anything in this world that could possibly prepare Nathan for the sight before him, that of Peter, with a spike through his head.
It was only a drilled-in training with firearms that kept him from dropping the shotgun right there. For a moment, it was as though every muscle and joint had frozen and locked, everything except his throat, for the sound he made was definitely audible, but it was an almost inhuman cry of pain. A second later, mobility returned and he rushed forward, the shotgun clattering on the table as he dropped it and looked down on what had been done to Peter.
He was going to be sick. He nearly was, save that one small voice of reason urged him to pull it together and do what needed to be done. This had happened before. All he needed was to remove it and everything would be fine. He wasn't even aware he had begun to mutter these things out loud, and he paid no mind to the fact his hands were shaking violently, not until they closed around the spike. With a muttered prayer to God, Nathan closed his eyes and pulled.
Peter gasped as sensation flowed back in. Then he coughed, gagged, and spit something out of his mouth, trying to roll onto his side. He couldn't turn, his arms and legs were still chained to this damned table, and Peter turned his head to snap at Darla again...
And stared when instead of the hateful vampire, it was Nathan standing there. He thought his heart had stopped, he went so still, but no, it was beating, he could hear it, and that meant that Nathan...
Oh, god. Oh, god, no. Peter shook his head. "No, no, Nate, get out of here. Please! Before she comes back, just go!" He started tugging, pulling at his limbs, pulling at the chains that were keeping him helpless here.
"You should probably listen to him, Nate," a low voice said from the shadows, beneath the stairs. Darla stood there, her blonde locks matted with dirt from the foundation shaking all around her. She'd come down here when the rocks had begun to fall. She was pale - she needed blood. And he certainly had a fresh supply.
"Oh, wait," she smiled, lazily. "Too late." And she was across the room, in his face, and reaching for his throat with her hands. Her face had morphed, going from attractive to demonic. Her fangs glistened in anticipation of that first bite.
At the gasp, Nathan let out a relieved sound that was nearly a whimper, the spit out object barely even registering, as his focus was entirely on Peter. He wasn't certain what he was expecting his brother's first words to be. He definitely wasn't expecting thanks, because this wasn't thanks-worthy. This was what brothers did.
He definitely knew, though, that the last thing he expected was for Peter to tell him to go. "What?" he said hoarsely, utter disbelief etched on his face. Peter couldn't be serious. Of course he wasn't going to leave!
Hearing his diminutive spoken by someone who wasn't Peter brought him sharply around, bringing him face to face with his brother's killer. Alive or not, she was still guilty. And though she was fast, Nathan had the advantage of a well-honed survival instinct, for as she came at him, he raised the spike he still held and embedded it into her gut. He didn't stop at that, however, for with a level of cold, murderous fury he had never known before in his life, he twisted his wrist, twisting the spike within her gut. There was something to be said for the feats that adrenaline made easy for the average human.
Knowing her a danger, even without Peter's reaction, even without the new ugliest face he had even seen, Nathan used what some part of him hoped was the unexpectedness of his action to his advantage by grabbing the gun and putting enough distance between them to raise it and fire. It wasn't enough, even if that had been enough to take down a vampire, and with a vicious snap of the gun, he unloaded the second bullet.
At the first notes of Darla's voice, Peter was muttering his protests, volume rising as he began to panic. "No, no, no! No!" He was tugging at the chains, his movements turning frantic, and then when he saw Darla's face shift, Peter's scream formed his brother's name.
"NATHAN!"
Pain seared viciously into his brain, but this time, Peter latched onto it, drove it deeper, and used the strength behind it. He heard the gunshots go off, dimly, but more importantly, he felt the chains holding him drop away. Peter threw himself to his feet, and threw out his hand. Blood began to flow from his nostrils, but that didn't matter. What did matter was how the daggers and spikes that he had littered the floor with before all jumped into the air at his command. And when Peter brushed his hand to the side to let them fly, they were all aimed at the same blonde target.
Darla was no fool. She knew when she'd best retreat, and now was the time. Clearly, she had underestimated just how weak she was and the men she was facing. Spinning, she leapt for the stairs, willing him to let the spikes fly while she was in motion. She stood a better chance of escaping them, that way.
Her feet hit the stairs halfway up and she began to rush up them. The door was in view, her escape was guaranteed.
Suddenly she was airborn, a scream erupting from her throat as she flew backward, hitting the far wall. Instead of sliding downward, though, she seemed to stick. She couldn't move, in fact, she realized after a split second. Her eyes widened as a young girl appeared at the top of the stairs, emerging from the doorway.
"Bad," Annie stated with a frown at the woman. "Bad, mean, bad!"
Dropping the gun at his side, Nathan reached for the axe as soon as he could, only to see every weapon on the floor go airborne. Annie wasn't here, so it had to be Peter, and Nathan was completely willing to see that array of torture instruments do their worst on the woman who had used them. He wouldn't have such reach with the axe, after all.
And then Darla slammed into the wall and the move was so familiar, having just seen it recently, that Nathan looked up.
Annie.
Seeing her there, he was suddenly certain everything was going to be just fine now. Darla wouldn't last long, not with the opinion Annie was issuing now. He used the reprieve Annie's arrival afforded to move to Peter, not knowing how long his brother had been left like that, but wanting to be there if it had been too long for Peter to remain upright under his own power for long.
Annie could finish her off now. Nathan cared only that the vampire who had done this to his brother was dead and gone.
Peter was shaking, and he didn't know if it was from pain, shock, loss of blood, or the amount of power suddenly in his grasp. He had paid a price for it, as the blood coming from his nose seemed to tell. But no matter how much of what he had, it didn't change what had happened to him. His body was taking a toll, and when Nathan stepped beside him, Peter gripped his brother by the arm, both to confirm that it really was Nathan and not a hallucination, and to remain standing.
His eyes fell on the girl as she came out from the stairwell, and Peter breathed another sigh of relief. "Annie." She'd kept her promise. She'd found him.
Annie's eyes narrowed a bit as she stared at the blonde woman. This was also the woman she'd seen hurting Kathy. Now, she'd actually hurt Peter. Normally, the girl didn't make such associations. However, this time her anger toward Darla increased.
As did the pressure on the blonde vampire's chest, hips, and legs. There was a sickening crunch of bone and the woman grunted in pain as organs began to flatten. Blood splattered from her mouth. Then the pressure stopped. It didn't let up, but just stayed on her at the same amount of force.
Still glaring at her for a second as she continued down the stairs, Annie ultimately walked right by her victim and fully into the room. It seemed like only then did she realize Peter was standing there. She'd been focused on Darla and hadn't been paying the rest of the room any attention. Now, though, as she immediately brought her hands to her eyes and covered them, waited a heartbeat, then peered out at Peter with a shy grin filling her face. A heartbeat later she was crossing the room at a run, her stuffed animal clenched tightly in one hand as she threw her arms around both Peter and Nathan as best she could.
Darla squirmed a bit on the wall, but Annie really wasn't worried about killing her right away. She could deal with her in a moment. Right now she was too busy beaming happily up at the brothers.
Annie's antics were a measure of light in this very dark place, dark more in experience than actual darkness, and Nathan smiled somewhat tiredly down at her as she wrapped her arms around them. He was tempted to pick her up so Peter didn't have to bend and then they could all hug as long as it made them happy. But it wasn't any sort of celebration, not yet, with Darla still there.
"Just gimme a minute," he said, hoping Peter's legs could keep from giving way a few moments longer, though he suspected Annie had more than enough ability to keep that from happening considering how many people he'd seen go flying today. Dislodging himself from the group hug gently, he moved close to the wall Darla was pinned to at the moment, looking up. She was too high to reach from the floor, but he realized that wasn't a problem, even indoors.
A moment later, he was hovering in front of her, within distance to finish her off. He'd only seen Annie dust vampires, so the axe seemed a natural solution. He wanted to say something to Darla, but nothing suitable came. Silently, he swung the axe back over his opposite shoulder and with a low growl, sliced it forward straight across her shoulders.
Peter had used the last of that power to hold himself upright, and pull Annie into his arms when she had leaped at them. He hugged her tightly, swaying lightly, whispering over and over, "Thank you. You saved me, Annie. Thank you." He touched his forehead to hers, knowing this was easier for her. Thank you, he said again. And your tower is lovely. I hope I can visit you there again sometime.
He looked up as Nathan moved towards Darla, his breath tensing for a moment. But when Nathan drew back the axe and sliced the head from her, he couldn't help but breathe an immense sigh of relief. Was it appropriate to sing 'Ding, Dong, the Bitch is Dead?'
But then he remembered. "Shit. She doesn't stay dead. She'll come back in a minute." His arms tightened around Annie. "We should go. Now."
Darla's eyes widened, an involuntary shiver overtaking her as Nathan approached her with the axe. Shit, she thought, that's going to hurt! She glanced wildly toward the girl who had obviously pinned her there, willing her to release her but knowing it wasn't going to happen. She turned back just in time to see the axe flying toward her... and her head finally regained control in time for it to plummet downward. Her body followed suit a second later. Both were ashes before they hit the ground.
The bulk of Annie's attention in those last seconds , however, was focused on Peter. She was smiling, truly happy he was safe, and hugged her bunny impulsively before glancing toward the stairs leading up to the rest of the house. Buffy should have the vampires up there taken care of by now. It was time to leave.
Reaching over with a shy grin, she took Peter's hand in hers. The physical connection helped her focus on him as she made sure he had enough strength to stay upright. Looking back toward the stairs, her gaze flickered to Nathan and she hugged her stuffed animal tightly once more - hiding a smile in its ears - as she calmly led Peter toward his brother and the exit.
The relief that finally started to spread in Nathan as he watched Darla turn to dust before him last only a few precious moments, ending when Peter uttered something that threatened to finally overwhelm him. Seeing a building appear out of thin air, seeing a vampire's head being torn from its body as it was pinned to a wall, seeing rocks fall from the sky -- none of it was as startling as learning he hadn't just killed the vampire who had dared kidnap and hurt Peter. He hadn't permanently killed his brother's tormentor and killer.
"I just cut her head off," he muttered as he dropped abruptly to the floor, the statement of recent fact sounding confused and ultimately unhappy, the rush of adrenaline fading as promptly as if water had been dumped upon him. For a brief moment, he was tempted to stay, to keep cutting off her head each time she reappeared. But what if she just continued to return, over and over?
No, he needed to get Peter, all of them, back to the hotel where it was safe. They knew who she was, they could find a way to kill her permanently later, and then she would pay more than just briefly. He couldn't deny, however, that it opened something indescribable inside him to have acted as he did, they way he had, and have it ultimately be ineffective.
However, it had not been without rewards, one reward greater than the rest that allowed him to set that feeling aside for now. Peter. They had rescued Peter, and now they needed to finish it.
"Right. Going now," he said, jamming the axe back into his belt, as it belonged to Buffy and needed to be returned, then shrugged out of his jacket and slung it over Peter's shoulders. One hand on Peter's shoulder, the other on Annie's, he stayed behind them to make certain Peter didn't tumble back down the stairs while going up them, glancing back over his shoulder at the pile of dust with a sick feeling in his gut.
Peter kept one hand holding onto Annie's, the other covering Nathan's hand on his shoulder. Annie was feeding strength into him to keep moving, he could feel it. And he was grateful. He wanted to walk out of this place on his own two feet. He would make it. He'd survived. And he'd gotten to see his brother, his imagination-challenged, level-headed, politician brother cut the head off of a vampire.
He squeezed Nathan's hand, looking back at him. Peter didn't have words to express what he wanted to, but the look was all there in his eyes. Gratitude. Pride. Love. Lots and lots of love. "Thanks," he said. "That... it feels final." It felt like this was over. At least Peter's part in it. He was saved. He was going home.
Now, he just hoped that things back at the hotel were quiet.