Who: Peter Vincent, Jerry Dandridge, Castiel What: Peter is coming slightly unhinged and purposely walks into a trap... again. Jerry is ready and waiting. Castiel bears witness to a new beginning. Where: Jerry's lair When: Sunday night, starting near midnight, June 2, 2013 Warnings: Peter’s foul mouth, violence, blood, vampires, character death Status: Closed, Ongoing
He couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. How easily, Jerry had managed to fool them all. He didn’t know how the bloodsucker had been able to walk in sunlight, or not be burnt by the holy water, or have his image caught on film and in mirrors. They’d tested him, as thoroughly and subtly as possible, and he passed every one. Peter had tried so hard to ignore him past that, telling himself that the reason “David” disturbed him so much was simply because he wore the same face as Jerry.
He should’ve known better. Now he was paying the price, and Jerry was threatening what was left of the life Peter had managed to build in Lawrence. Jerry had already stolen so much from him, more than even Peter had ever realized. He’d seen from the boards and from the other world what that other Peter was like, seen how having his parents would have changed him. Jerry had cost him that innocence, and was seeking to take away everything else.
Peter was familiar with losing people. He’d lost his parents. He lost Ginger. Here in Lawrence, he’d lost Darcy and Steph and Epiphany. He’d lost Andrew. Now he was on the verge of losing Cas too. Castiel, whose only wish was to be where he was needed, to be of help to the people he cared about, no matter the cost to himself.
He was seized with fear that he was already too late, that Jerry would have drained Cas dry by now, or been tormenting him to pass the time. What if he’d turned him? Was that even possible, given what Cas was? What he used to be? His body was human, but it hadn’t always been his own. And what Jerry had said, taunting him, dangling his friends’ fates in front of him like that... Peter couldn’t keep hiding. He was afraid for his friends, for his life, and he could not keep waiting for Jerry to tear it away from him. He had to end it. It was a need that had become as strong as the urge to drink himself into oblivion, or the desire to have Andrew back, to hold him close and never let go.
More than thirty fucking years of his life he had spent in fear of this monster. It ruled him, utterly, completely. It had cost him his family, his sanity, his future, his friends. It had led him to drive Lexi and Spike away, to leave Amy and Charley and Ginger to their fates back in Vegas, to sit in the dark with his drinks while innocent people died in horrible, agonizing ways. It had led to him becoming the wreck of a human being that he was, who’d spent over a decade seeking out oblivion in the next high, the next lay, the next magic gig, the one who now struggled just to get through a single day without a drink, whose instinct was to push people away because he couldn’t stand to see more people he cared about leave him in scorn or fear or disgust, who couldn’t ever truly trust, yet latched onto people so easily, so desperate for affection, for attention, for something positive in this ongoing nightmare that he’d called his life.
The hurt from Andrew’s disappearance was still so fresh and raw, a heavy, overwhelming shadow. He’d let Andrew in so close to his heart, and in losing him, he’d lost his greatest hope. The happiness and acceptance and belonging he had so badly wanted, that he’d barely started to wrap his fingers around.... it was gone. Andrew was gone. And Peter was completely, utterly, and blindingly paralyzed with terror that what else he’d salvaged from the wreckage of his own largely wasted life would be torn from his grasp once more.
Ginger and Kenzi had been hovering all day. Cas’s disappearance had left everyone suspicious and paranoid, running in circles about if “David” could have had anything to do with it. From what Jerry had said, there was at least one person among their number who couldn’t be trusted. Stressed and emotional already, it wasn’t hard for Peter’s paranoia to kick into full gear. He couldn’t trust anyone, and he couldn’t wait around for them to decide whether or not to hunt Jerry down.
No more. No fucking more. He would not let it happen again. He would end this tonight. His desperation made him blind to anything and everything but the need to find Jerry and fucking end him. He just wanted peace. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted it all over. And one way or another, this was going to end tonight. The sooner the better. So, he’d waited until Kenzi left the flat for a few minutes to go pick up a pizza, and while Ginger was distracted in the next room, he’d slipped out, and headed downstairs. He geared up in the hunters armory; stake gun, stakes, weapons meant only to kill, not to buy time like the last time he’d gone to face Jerry. And then he’d left, taking his motorbike and wasting no time making his way to the location Jerry had specified.
The address ended up being a slightly decrepit old house on the edge of town. It was fairly secluded and had obviously been abandoned for some time, an easy choice for a vamp like Jerry. Peter parked the bike out front, drawing his weapons before he started to go in. All he had left was that nearly sick desperation to finish this all now.