[From
here.]It didn't strike Peter until he was on the grass and staring at the moon that the last time he'd gone out this way, it had been to collect Harry. The thought was a sobering one to say the least, particularly when he was the only soul on the field. No one but him and the great outdoors. Except replace 'great outdoors' with 'big fat death
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But then Peter brought up the night's earlier announcement, and Nathan frowned. "Something about, ah, improving security measures," he muttered, sighing. "I'm going to guess that's going to make things harder for us - not easier. They probably don't see monsters as a security hazard."
If they acknowledged them at all. The announcement had mentioned something about "false information" about nighttime, and while Nathan had never seen anything directly referring to monsters on the bulletin before, he also knew he'd never really taken the time to thoroughly peruse it like he probably should have. Most of the communication on there was personal...
"You still want to think up fake names for that?" he asked. They'd reached the wall, and Nathan stopped suddenly. They didn't need to find any vines - he could make this. And wouldn't Peter be able to copy him?
...It was almost funny, really, what Peter's ability was. As an older sibling, Nathan had often been a source of inspiration for his younger brother, and despite their age gap, Nathan would usually see Peter trying to mimic him as he grew up. It stopped pretty abruptly when Nathan moved into politics, though... But still, the fact that, now, Peter's power was to copy what others did... it was fitting, in a way, from his point of view. He knew better than to tell Peter that, though. Peter was of the opinion that he'd always struck out on his own path, trying to separate himself from Nathan and be independent.
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"Yeah, pretty sure the monsters are here to stay," he agreed, though he wasn't exactly disappointed since he'd never gotten his hopes up about that in the first place. "We should probably go with fake names, yeah. I guess we could use the ones they call us, but that feels wrong somehow." Besides, the nurses referred to him as 'Ethan' all the time. If he ever ended up stuck with Sylar during some activity during the day and the man overheard a nurse addressing him by that name, then it kind of defeated the purpose, didn't it?
"Any suggestions?" he asked, glancing over at his brother and not expecting much of a response. Nathan was used to having his name plastered everywhere, so Peter imagined this idea of secrecy was weird for him. Peter was hardly an alter ego kind of guy himself (and forget capes), but at this point it was necessary.
He could tell that there was a good climbing spot a little further ahead, but then Peter realized that he didn't hear Nathan's squishy footsteps behind him. Frowning, he turned back around to see that his brother had stopped and was staring up at the wall. "What is it?" he asked.
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Thus far nothing was visible in the dark of the field, but there -- toward the edge, near the wall -- that was perhaps an eddy in the mists that clung close to the ground. Difficult to see, perhaps, but the sound was coming closer.
[tiassa]
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"I was actually thinking-" He stopped suddenly, however, upon hearing the strange sound of footsteps growing closer and closer towards them. His expression instantly changed - from bemused to curious to concerned all in one moment. His voice lowered and he closed the gap between himself and his brother in two quick strides, grabbing Peter's forearm. "What is that," he asked. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Common sense tried to tell him that it was nothing, just another person coming out on the field, but those weren't human footsteps - not at all.
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"I don't think we should stick around to find out," he said firmly. After all, the wall was right there, and he kind of doubted that most monsters could climb. If that was really a horse, then the only way it was getting over was by jumping, and this wall was far too high for that.
For a normal horse, anyway. Peter really hoped whatever was after them wasn't so monstrous that it could pull something like that off.
"C'mon," he said, tugging Nathan closer to the wall and then pulling away from him so that he could start grabbing onto the vines there. They had to move fast.
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And then a scream pierced the darkness, equine and yet not quite, overlaid with a harsh, almost metallic undertone. Immediately after the uneven pounding of hoofbeats resumed, only much more rapid - and coming closer. Fast.
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"Pete," he said, quickly, tone rushed. "You can copy me, can't you?" Peter had said he would be able to, when they'd had their long talk in Doyleton, and Nathan could only hope that that was so. They didn't exactly have a lot of time to deliberate over it - the cry that monster had given had shaken Nathan to the core, but with his powers the way they were he wasn't sure if he could carry Peter over the fence or if that would only weigh him down.
Nothing like a crazy situation like this to make him appreciate something he had, for the most part, henceforth taken completely for granted.
Quickly, Nathan sprung up, not as quickly as he would have normally, but fast enough to get away from the oncoming attack. He lingered for a moment at the top of the wall, but ultimately, he couldn't stay - he already felt gravity pushing him down, and so he had to land over the wall into the Courtyard beyond.
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It occurred to him that he might have to ditch both his flashlight and his shovel if he wanted to climb the wall, and so he gave up on his original plan and was preparing to toss the items over before he went himself when Nathan spoke up.
Copy? Oh, he meant -- but Peter didn't need to finish the thought himself, since a second later Nathan had managed to achieve lift at least enough that he was able to get over the wall. This left him in a sticky position. If he wasn't able to mimic it--
Well, that wasn't something he was going to consider. Taking a deep breath, he first threw his flashlight over, and then chucked the shovel after it, hoping that neither one ended up hitting Nathan on the other side.
And now? Now he just needed to fly. Just for a second. Peter took a deep breath and tried to focus. He couldn't leave Nathan waiting.
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And all around it the normal sights of the soccer field -- the grass, the shed, even the bulk of the Institute nearby -- all disappeared, swallowed up by what appeared to be the ruins of what had once been a great city. All around the buildings were crumbling, blackened and twisted as if they had been close to ground zero of a massive explosion. And scattered about lay uncountable corpses, bloated and rotting and unrecognizable.
A faint wisp of breeze brought the reek of decay ahead of the nightmare, but also sent a number of discarded papers skittering across the ground, papers printed with glaring red and "EVACUATION NOTICE" in bold at the top.
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Falling back down and letting his feet touch the ground, Peter then turned around, taking in the sights of the ruined city. No, not just ruined -- destroyed. Was this New York? Was he in the future somehow? The buildings were in such shambles that he couldn't even tell if this was the city he'd fought so hard to protect, but it very well could have been.
Peter started to wander, staring up into a blackened sky, his chest wrenching with horror and the beginnings of guilt. He was so busy looking up that he ended up stumbling over something, and as he looked back he realized it was a long-dead body. A hand shot up to his mouth; he wasn't squeamish about corpses, not really, but when there was a chance that he'd somehow done this?
The rational part of his mind tried to fight that. He'd just been at Landel's, he'd just been with Nathan. There was no way he was responsible for this. They'd seen to that.
Still, even if this wasn't his doing, it very well could have been, and seeing the results of something like this hit close enough to home that Peter's hands were starting to shake.
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Then without warning the faint stirring of air turned to a rushing gale, hurling grit and rubble with painful force at the lone living creature amidst the desolation. And amidst the fierce whistle of the wind came the equine scream once more, the only warning before the skeletal horse-creature reared up in front of Peter, its bony hooves flailing indiscriminately.
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Here was what he could have done, laid out before him like a kick in the face. Peter had fought to make sure this wouldn't happen, and it hadn't, so why did he have to be tortured with seeing it now? Gritting his teeth, he wondered if this was another dream. His were vivid enough that he would really have no way of telling.
He was in the middle of realizing that the bodies of loved ones could be among the masses when the wind picked up, blowing dirt into his face and forcing him to shield himself with his arms. It was just as he was trying to open his eyes again that the horse reappeared, shocking him so badly that he stumbled back and fell onto his backside. He stared up at the creature, breathing hard. It was responsible for this?
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It merely stood there, still as a statue, its head tilted just slightly so that one barren eye-socket seemed fixed upon Peter. Not a sound. Not a hint of what it would do next.
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He didn't want to make any sudden moves, though it was obvious that the creature already had him in its sights. The question was what it would do next, and he felt like he was at some sort of terrible stalemate with it.
Still, he had to do something, and so eventually he managed to hold his breath and start to scoot himself backwards across the barren ground, doing his best not to think about what he was making contact with in the process (and hoping that he didn't end up backing into a corpse...).
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The slow devastation continued (for minutes? hours? who could say?) until all was empty and barren, a sea of nothing but sand stirred by the wind. And then in the blink of an eye it was gone: the ground upon which he lay was once more frost-bitten grass on a dark soccer field, surrounded by walls and with the stars silent overhead.
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Except then reality reasserted itself, firmly and jarringly. Peter's back straightened as he realized that the wall he'd been trying so hard to fly over was now behind him. Breathing hard, he leaned a hand on it as he dragged himself to his feet. That horse was definitely gone, right?
But then he remembered: Nathan had to be waiting for him, and he had hardly any sense of how much time had passed. While he was glad to know that everything he'd just seen had been an illusion, that didn't mean that the images were going to just go away. No, they were ingrained in his mind for now.
His efforts to fly a second time resulted in nothing, and so after a while Peter realized he was just going to have to do it the old fashioned way. Grabbing onto the vines, he slowly climbed up and then pitched himself over into the courtyard...
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