The Universe's Mixer

Something was wrong. He knew it before consciousness had settled in on him. A feeling of loss, of emptiness. It ached, the void, and he found himself reaching for Leeloo, reaching out for the comfort of her, the softness of her.

His hand found cold, empty blankets.

Peter sat up, blinking. He reached out with his mind, expecting to find her not far, maybe up to eat something, but she wasn't there.

She wasn't there.

A cry rose in his throat, and his arm reached out again, desperate. He could feel Evey there, in the back of his mind, he could touch on a half dozen others, and knowing that his powers hadn't suddenly vanished, that it was his heart and love and life that was gone...

Logic tried to intervene. She was the Fifth Element, the Supreme Being. She was needed, necessary to the world - many worlds - being this one.

But his heart was breaking, shoulders heaving with sobs.

How much time has passed before he was able to regain control of himself, to close off his mind and retreat into himself, he didn't know. It didn't seem to matter anymore.

Ever since she saw the man with the healing glow Harley had been obsessed. She couldn't shake the feeling of what a miracle such a power was. All of her, every fiber of her being wanted to have that power, the ability to heal and the ability to save. She had long since given up her morals and standards for ethical practice, but that didn't mean she couldn't start over, right? With Eddie gone the world was too quiet now. No Joker, no Scarecrow, no Riddler. Nobody that would know her on the deeper levels of what she could be and what she had been.

It was time to make new friends.

So she sought out the nurse that had healed James. The search wasn't too difficult, she had a location to start in. The City Hospital. It was there Harleen used her Doctor credentials to slip into areas reserved only for employees. She browsed through rooms, patient areas, staff areas. Each door she opened held potential but none of them held the man she was looking for.

"Like findin' a needle in a haystack," Harley breathed. Maybe she could try calling for him. Wasn't that what had happened the first time anyway to get him to appear?

Wouldn't hurt to try would it?

She found an empty, dark patient room and once the door was closed behind herself Harley moved to the center of the area and grinned. "Peter!" She called. Her voice wasn't too loud, not wanting to give away her position, but loud enough to be heard by anyone that might be listening. Her mind, too, reached out anxiously. Would he hear her?

"Peter!" She called again.

It was to be today. James had everything in place. After having double-checked his work, he returned to Steve's apartment looking for Ariel - but found only quiet. Believing that she'd gone out to sun or to stroll, he went downstairs and circled the apartment building. Then he did it again. Dismissing the mild unease, he headed back up to wait.

But an hour passed, and she had not returned. The second hour ticked by, and he finally picked up his phone and tried to reach her on it. It wasn't unexpected that she didn't pick up. She never really seemed technologically minded. So he rang Steve instead. The conversation was stilted and harsh, at least on his end. His throat felt tight, and the back of his neck was hot.

He knew.

James knew, but was trying to deny it.

Steve was on his way back. James paced the front of the living room quickly, back and forth, and then shot a text to Dr. Quinn.

Today. That was all he needed to send to her; she'd know the rest. It didn't matter that night hadn't even fallen. And, he realized, it didn't even matter that he hadn't confirmed that Edward Nigma had kidnapped her again. He should have handled this long ago. It shouldn't even be a question.

After today, it wouldn't be.

Talking with the cop had done some good, Aidan thought. It was nice knowing there were people out there that could help. Or ... well, thought they could help anyway. Officer Crews had been under the impression that he was speaking with a junkie, and had imagined that he knew what to do to help said junkie. While Aidan knew he was technically going through withdrawals exactly like a traditional addict, his were a bit more dangerous, and the source of his needs were more damaging to the outside world. When he imbibed, everyone he encountered was then in incredible danger of not being alive anymore. Even to get his particular drug meant the death of another.

He was doing moderately okay on the blood bags, but was still consuming more a day than he would like. Really, anything more than two or three wasn't okay. He liked it much better when he was down to one. One a day, two if he was going to be doing something that might inspire lust or... anything along those lines.

Aidan hadn't sought out Evey again, not wanting to see her smiling face in the midst of his anguish. He was sure she was probably pissed off at him for it. Hurt. And the other Evey? The one who had seen him at his worst? Who had helped him through? Shame kept him from her.

His skin itched to leave the house and hunt down a source of live blood. His brain swam with everything he'd been going through. To make it worse, Aidan couldn't even relax into a book. He devoured them as if they were his true weakness, and everything in them stuck like glue. He'd never been dumb, of course, but he'd also never sped through a novel in under two hours.

The couch, his go-to haven, seemed to have begun to be molded in one spot to his butt. Aidan shifted, trying to find that sweet spot. He'd need a new couch in not too long.

It had happened in the night. Peter hadn't been sleeping, as usual, but he had been in bed, curled up with Leeloo, who was warm and peaceful in his arms. In die Festung, Peter had had magic to help him sleep, and on the savage world, he had been supplying energy to the TARDIS. Here in the City, he had neither as a way to drain his energy, and do sleep was all but unnecessary. The occasions when he did sleep were special nights with his beloved.

He hasn't been actively paying attention when it happened, but the sudden loss was in no way subtle. There weren't many things that could cut off a link so sharply, and there had been no steady building of walls for the younger Evey to have deliberately hidden behind. It was a sudden loss of sensation that Peter had only felt a handful of times before.

He went still, eyes wide, not wanting to wake the supreme being from her rest. Evey had been asleep, and then she was simply gone. He could sense the elder Evey still, faintly awake and reeling a bit from sudden new memories.

His touch was light enough that she probably didn't realize he had looked. She had other things occupying her attention. Peter withdrew from her mind, letting his thoughts turn inward.

Gone. Evey was gone. The young, vibrant woman that loved Aidan Waite without reservation, the Evey Hammond unburdened by the savagery of the dinosaur island, was gone. His best friend. And he, Peter Petrelli, had been completely powerless to prevent it.

Peter covered his face with one hand and wept silently.

Several hours later, when the sun had risen, Peter gave Evey a gentle nudge. He was going to take her out to breakfast. He gave her half an hour to get ready, showering and dressing, and then he was knocking at the door to John's apartment.

Backdated to immediately after this

Evey made it downstairs with her mask of still calmness wholly intact. She ignored the workers in the Manchester, as many of the other tenants did, and thus blended in completely. Her steps took her through the doors that were opened for her, then down the street. When she'd passed two streets and was out of the line of sight from the building itself, Evey turned into the closest alley and walked straight to the very back. When she'd passed the last large dumpster, she dipped into the space just behind it that hid her from view from the street.

Her hands balled once, twice, three times, then she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. The nightmare Aidan had described was horrific. If it'd been anyone else... If it'd been any other vampire who told her... Oh, she'd have found a way to end the vampire on the spot. But it had been Aidan. She was sure her heart had broken - not just for him, but for her younger self... and for herself as well. He'd murdered many, many people. He killed them for their blood. He harvested one of them. He...

She was whimpering. She heard the sound and knew it was her throat making the sound, and was wholly unable to stop it. Covering her mouth with both hands, she tried holding her breath, but the sound just hummed up through her nose. Oh god. Oh god. Aidan.

Since Evey's crash, Peter had narrowed his focus. There was a steady monitor on the older version of Evey, constant (though non-invasive) awareness of her status. He didn't read her thoughts, but made certain she was still there. Her efforts to shield herself were non-existent, forcing Peter to devote enough energy to the link to protect himself from the feedback of her despair. The link to the younger Evey was feather-light, only touching upon her once in a while. It was easier on him.

The Leeloo he'd known on the island had found solace and even happiness with the younger version of Eric. Peter wished them both happy, and had withdrawn his monitoring of this version of his beloved. So it was with full devotion and will that he had given himself up to his Leeloo, his perfect being.

Which wasn't to say he didn't occasionally check up on his friends.

There had been a chord in the air, a hint of something ethereal, something somber and sinister. The truth of it eluded him. Peter had kissed Leeloo's sleeping form, wrapped a warm blanket around her, and then ventured out to find what was troubling him.

He did a tally in his mind as he walked, following that subtle sensation. His mind touched on those he knew, but found a chilling blankness when he tried to focus on the younger Leeloo. And when he reached toward the younger Eric, there was more of the same.

Emptiness, where there had once been a mind.

His pace quickened. On the lingering touch to Eric's mind, Peter reached and found the other, the changed one, but that presence was filled with nothing good. His footfalls were taking him in that direction, and suddenly, he couldn't run fast enough. Peter took to the air and, moments later, settled to the ground beside his friend.

The disturbance in the earth was clear. There was nothing subtle about it. The stone was marked in blood, and Peter didn't need to be told whose blood it was. He put his hand on Eric's shoulder, kneeling beside the grave to offer his own ( sorrow. )

This was familiar and yet....and yet it was entirely different. Killian had sailed to many places: from cities near and far, to islands.

The landscape before him expanded to reveal a place caught between a big city and a small, backwoods town. It reminded him both of the New York City line with the large skyscrapers and the bustle. And it had the charm also of Storybrooke, though rustic and homey cities weren't exactly always the most welcoming of strangers.

The Jolly Roger idled at the dock, and the Captain made his way slowly up the sidewalk. Against the modern setting he stuck out. The sword at his hip that swung as he moved, the all black leather. His left hand was concealed in the lapel of his coat and his right hand hung at his hip, fingers flexing some.

Blue eyes swept the faces that passed him. He was curious if there was magic here, and if there was then Killian needed to find it. He needed magic to get back on course. The bean he had thrown somehow had pushed his ship astray and this was not his intended destination.

From his experience he knew that the best place to gather information was the local watering hole, and he had a knack for finding any place with good drink. Maybe it was one of those quirks of being a pirate.

Ducking in to the bar, Killian blended easily with the dim lighting and with an easy few steps he was at the bar. His eyes swept the place, the few faces settled at the counter around him, and he found himself settling on a vacant stool.

The bartender approached and Killian offered the woman his most charming smile, "Hello love," the pirate breathed, setting his right hand on the bar top. "Give us your best rum." He nodded at her kindly and she smiled before moving off to fill his order.

The conveniences of the City were a delight, and one that Leeloo very quickly learned and enjoyed. As she did, it seemed that the things she most loved were quietly placed into their apartment. A working television set. A Blu-Ray player. A Playstation 4. A microwave. Tablets that could be microwaved to generate full roast chicken dinners. Chicken was good, Leeloo had discovered. Together, sne and Peter could eat two chickens all by themselves.

He'd mentioned something about superior metabolisms. Leeloo laughed at the obviousness of the statement. Of course. Of course they had. She was a supreme being, and Peter represented the best of humanity so far. Of course their metabolisms were better than most.

Better, of course, because it allowed them to eat all the chicken they wanted. Chicken was very good.

When Peter slipped away from the apartment for a few hours, Leeloo tried not to worry. He hadn't seemed at peace with what was, and that troubled her. She decided to make good use of the time he was away and clean.

She cleaned the already spotless kitchen. The bathroom. Their bedroom. The living room. She brought in cut flowers for the table. She brewed coffee. She set the table for a beautiful meal, including candles and silver and china, just as he'd shown her some weeks before. She turned on some music that she liked and danced to it in the middle of the living room. She picked out a few Blu-Ray entertainment disks on the coffee table in front of the TV and filled the couch with pillows and blankets.

There was nothing else to do, after a few hours, but wait for him to come home. She opened the windows wide, then sat on the floor in front of the biggest one and watched the moon come up from over the tops of the buildings.

[takes place immediately following this]

Peter was waiting when Evey turned the corner. He had tried to stay away, tried to let her have her own autonomy. It was hard, drawing the lines that separated him from the women who shared so much of his mind, but lines had to be drawn, lest they fade completely. If had been long enough, with her shields in place and her long sleep, that Peter's awareness of her had slid into a peripheral gaze.

( But when those shields came crashing down, his heart had shattered with the knowledge. )

The weather in the City was pretty much always perfect. There were days with rain, but they were still mostly warm. But there were still seasons. In fall the leaves fell (the trees were never bare, though), in winter there might be some snowflakes (never anything like the one great storm where the City had gotten carried away), and summers were warm and sunny and nobody had school.

Still, this year, the City felt like celebrating spring. Not any particular holiday. Just spring in general. There were new people around, there were couples in love, and it wanted to have a great big party for everyone.

Overnight, it set up the great festival. Streets all around the park were closed off so that people could walk around without issue. The park itself was expanded to over twice the normal size. A great clearing was made in the center, stretching from one side to the other. There needed to be lots of room.

Through this clearing the City placed tents, stands, and tables. These were filled with food and wares of all types. There were representatives for all the popular shops, as well as some that nobody had ever seen there before. There were stands for balloons for the kids, too, free of charge. And flowers absolutely everywhere. Woven into the stands themselves, laying on tables, set up in vases, growing in every patch that the City was sure nobody would accidentally step on them. Colorful ribbons, some as large as crepe streamers, also decorated everything. The City wanted as much color as it could possibly get.

At one end of the clearing the City placed a small carnival. Rides, games, everything it could think of. Even a petting zoo, though some of the animals within weren't typical farm animals that usually went in petting zoos. At the other it placed a few stages for performances. Concerts, plays, musicians. The stages were all contained within their own invisible sound barriers, as to not disturb one another, but the noise from all could be heard on the main promenade.

It put signs up all over, put notices in mailboxes, ads on the radio, commercials on television, and even made Candy and Frank talk about it on the morning news.

The celebration would go from sunrise to midnight. At sunset, the City would have a bonfire, complete with a pig roast and s'mores. At that time, it would move the park closer to the water, creating a beach between for the bonfire to settle on.

Annie wandered downstairs from her apartment into the shop below. She was pretty sure she'd stayed the night at Tony's, as that's where she was 99% of the time now. Yet she'd opened her eyes to the Halo City sign that the City had thought she might want to have hanging in her room.

As soon as she was in sight of the shop bodily, a ruckus sprang up. It was almost deafening. Every machine in her shop calling for her all at the same time.

ANNIE. ANNIE we missed youwhere have you beenit's been too longAnnie you were gone gone gone gone Annie gone nobody here to take care of us like you did Annie don't leave us again Annie Annie Annie Annieannieannie

She had to cover her ears, but of course that didn't block out the machines. She didn't really hear them with her ears. Tears came to her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't stop them. It wasn't just the pain of the noise, either.

How could they say that she had abandoned them? How could they believe that? She would never! She came by every day to check up on them and make repairs. She visited! She would never ever forget them!

"No." Annie said, her power truly springing to life then. Her words came in a choked sob. "No, I wouldn't. Please, please be quiet. I would never leave you. Stop saying that, I'm begging you."

But they didn't stop. They only got louder and more insistent.

Slowly, the little mutant fell to her knees and tried to cover her head with her arms to block out the sad calls and accusations.

( Working on our night moves... )

When the world began shaking, there was a sudden onslaught of panic, fear, and confusion. It had been some time since Peter had been in a large enough population to need to shield himself regularly, and his level of comfort had left him a bit exposed. When the cacophony struck his mind, Peter flinched, mentally and physically, withdrawing into himself completely, curling up defensively, blanking his mind against the assault.

When he came back to himself, he was standing in a hallway. And he was lying in his bed, in his room on the TARDIS. There was an utterly confusing sensation of being two places at once, and he could clearly recall the caravan that had just left die Festung, where he had been standing a moment ago. But there was a set of keys in his hand, and the feel of Leeloo's hand wrapped in that same hand. There was a shudder of movement, and Peter tried to fight away from the conflicting information, trying to find where he was between the two sets of input. Then pain split his head, and memories flooded in - the savage world, the dinosaurs... the TARDIS, the inky woman.... He reached for something steady, something constant, like the solid feel of Evey's strength in his mind, but even that was split in two! Two versions of Evey Hammond, one from that first body's experiences in the broken world, and the other as he had last seen her, teetering on the edge of despair, feeling lost and alone.

Shields slammed into place, and Peter found himself on the ground again, curled upon himself at the door of an apartment, The keys in his hand were digging painfully into his palm, but he embraced that pain as it was the only sensation. A singular sensation, not that horrid duality that had threatened to rend him apart.

With a shaking breath, he forced his limbs to relax, moving into a sitting position. He was a single entity again. His memories were intact, though slightly altered - he could remember arriving here shortly after leaving die Festung... but at the same time, re remembered the later attack of snow dinosaurs in that world, the sudden arrival on the savage world and the experiences and adventures there, and then, once more, arriving at this location.

How? What? And strangest of all, an overwhelming sense of awareness, of life, of sentience all around him. He sensed the awareness focus on him for a fleeting instant, but before Peter could pinpoint just what it might have been, it retreated beyond his reach.

He shook his head, hard. The TARDIS had sometimes felt like that, but this had not been the TARDIS.

Slowly, cautiously, Peter eased the strength down on his mental shields. He reached for one mind, but the thought instead went to two: Evey?