Assault (Peter, Dragonetti, Kemp Family)
Peter's family was feeling the doldrums of the After-Christmas Blues, but it did help to know that they would be jetting off to Valencia in the early hours of the morning. Spain was like a place of solace for all of them. A place where they could relax and enjoy their family. It was especially important now, after the loss of David. Family mattered, and tomorrow they would be literally surrounded by it.
Lydia and Anna were setting the table while Peter sat in the living room, jiggling his daughter Lauren on his knee. He had offered to help Aly in the kitchen, but she had informed him if he didn't leave right then, he was going to end up with flour in his hair. And the very tidy Peter just couldn't handle that. In addition, she had informed him that the traditional Valencian paella was supposed to have snails in it, and if he wasn't very nice to her, she would switch back to the original recipe, instead of substituting prawns as she had been. Peter thought Aly could be mean when she was territorial... He did not mind in the slightest watching Lauren, however. She was having a good day and as Peter bounced her, she grinned at him; a rare expression indeed. "There's Daddy's little girl! There she is! Why don't you smile all the time, princess, your smile is so beautiful." Peter lifted Lauren into the air and she squealed and then he kissed her all over.
Lydia stepped in from the dining room and she raised her eyebrows at her father and little sister. "You didn't do that to me, did you?"
"I'll do it to you right now, don't you tempt me, Missy," Peter winked at her. "Isn't she beautiful when she smiles?" Peter held Lauren up and the tiny girl beamed at Lydia.
"Did someone feed her happy brownies or something?" Lydia asked dubiously.
"Lydia!" Peter's voice was appropriately scolding, another rarity. "She just loves her daddy is all. Isn't that right, Princess?!" Peter kissed Lauren all over again and she let out a small whoop.
"Welllll, that I can understand." Lydia flounced back to the dining room and as she did so, the doorbell rang. "Doorbell, Dad!"
"Yes, thank you. You are ever so helpful," he called after her.
"Whatever, I set the table!" she yelled back and Peter chuckled.
"Lauren, you're never allowed to become a teenager," Peter informed his youngest daughter as he rose from the couch. He held Lauren on one side and when he reached the door, he pulled it open to see a very concerned looking Hope, staring at him with a strange look on her face. Worried about his niece, he immediately stepped back to allow her access to the house. "Hope, What's wrong?"
Hope's expression melted into deep regret, and Peter's stomach knotted with terror. He had a feeling something very bad was about to happen, and he wasn't wrong. "I'm so sorry, Peter Kemp...I'm so sorry!" Hope hissed, and before Peter could ask why, he saw. A gun appeared from around the corner, aimed directly at Hope's side. And when the wielder of said gun stepped into view, Peter was staring into the face of Father Alessandro Dragonetti. A face he rather detested.
Peter understood at once. The property was alarmed and only someone who knew the combination could get past it without it going off and signalling the police. Dragonetti had waited until someone who had that knowledge had come along. Hope knew the combination and Dragonetti had forced her to use it to let him in. Terror was spawning in Peter's stomach, but he tried to remain calm for Hope's sake. "It's alright, Hope," Peter said, trying to calm her. This wasn't her fault. It's alright." Peter tried to shift his tiny daughter so she was behind him as much as was possible. Dragonetti wasn't wearing his robes. Peter found it incredibly strange to see the man without his Templar garb...or the garb of a prisoner. He was wearing jeans and a long winter coat. Somehow, it didn't make him any less intimidating.
"Dragonetti, why don't you aim that thing at me? Hmm? There's no need to bring a teenage girl into it." Peter locked eyes with the Templar, unable to believe this was happening. It was a nightmare.
Dragonetti, who hadn't said a word yet, narrowed his eyes at Peter. "I know for a fact this gun won't hurt you, Antichrist. I can see from your expression, it'll hurt her."
"It would hurt me too," Peter said truthfully. Thanks to his immortality, that was all it would do, but the belief that it wouldn't hurt was pure fallacy. "Just...let her go and I'll come with you..." His heart rebelled at those words, but he meant them.
Dragonetti shook his head and he pushed the gun into Hope's side, causing her to whimper. Peter gritted his teeth together and he realised, quite suddenly, that he wasn't breathing. He quickly took in a deep breath and he tried his best to keep the rest of his home shielded by his body. "Okay, okay! What do you want?!"
"Back up. Get inside." Dragonetti nodded his head towards Peter's living room.
Peter tilted his head, his eyes pleading. "Dragonetti...please...my family-" If Dragonetti hurt them, Peter wouldn't forgive himself.
"Your family is as unholy as you are!" Dragonetti finally screamed, and Peter felt his stomach fall through the floor. He knew his actions in Nova Prata might come back to bite him in the arse. He had played into the Templar's delusions in order to save their captives, but he had hated that in doing so, he had seemingly proven their delusions right. And now here Dragonetti was, for justice or revenge, or whatever he had it in his mind to take now. And while he had his gun trained on Hope, there was nothing Peter could do about it.
"You don't want my family, you want me." Peter was backing up now, being forced into his living room by an advancing Dragonetti, who wouldn't aim the gun anywhere but at his niece's side. "You can take me, this is unnecessary."
"Take you so you can wreak your unholy havoc on us again? I don't think so," Dragonetti glared. "Even the Vatican couldn't hold you."
Peter swallowed roughly and he tried not to panic about being brought back there. It was his worst nightmare, but if it spared his family from pain, he would go. He would go willingly right now. "You tell me what it will take for you to leave my family out of it, and I'll do it," Peter vowed, desperation tainting his voice. "Please." The pain he had suffered in that pit was nothing compared to what he would experience watching his children suffer.
Dragonetti shook his head. "Not this time, Antichrist." He grinned wolfishly at Peter. "I am going to finish with you."
Peter couldn't believe the Templar would have sent Dragonetti here. Not after what had happened at Nova Prata. And not in civilian clothing. He had to be working on his own. Dragonetti was a dangerous man and Peter was not the Antichrist. All of his 'powers' from Nova Prata had been angelic illusion. He had two angels here with him now, but neither the thirteen-year-old Anna, nor his wife were adept enough in their visions to accomplish what Mirela and Joel had. There had to be another way out of this that didn't end in Hope being shot. "And...what does finish entail, exactly?"
Dragonetti opened his mouth, but at that moment, Lydia stepped into the room from the swinging kitchen door. "Dad, Mum says- Whoa."
"Lydia, go back into the kitchen!" Peter shouted, but Dragonetti was quicker. He grabbed Peter's daughter as well, and he shoved her towards Peter and Lauren.
"Oh, what the hell?!" Lydia shrieked, glaring at the man who had just shoved her. The man who had a gun on her cousin. "Dad, what's going on?!" Lydia was a lot more jaded than most girls her age. Instead of terror, she reacted with annoyance.
"Lydia, this is Alessandro Dragonetti..." Peter said, his voice heavy with gravitas. Lydia looked back up at him, her eyes wide. Now she looked scared.
"Ah, Lydia." Dragonetti stared at her. "Nice of you to join us. I want you to tie your father up." Dragonetti pulled unzipped his coat and he pulled out some rope with one hand, the other one always holding the gun on Hope. "Nice and tight." He tossed the rope to Lydia who held it like it was a detestable thing.
Lydia stared at Peter, terrified. "Dad...what's happening?"
"It's okay..." Peter tried to soothe her. "It's going to be okay." There were a lot of them, and only one of Dragonetti. They would get through this somehow, even if Dragonetti was the one with the gun. He was worried, however, how Aly would react. David had been held like this by Amaris, and Amaris had forced him to do unconscionable things to his own daughter just to keep Amaris from killing her. David was in Aly's head now. He wasn't entirely sure if this situation would make either of them snap. "I'll need to put Lauren down," Peter said to Dragonetti, though every nerve in his body was telling him not to; to keep her shielded. "There's a playpen. Behind the couch." At least it was out of the way...
Dragonetti nodded and, reluctantly, Peter handed Lauren to Lydia. Lydia grumbled and she placed her sister in the play pen where Lauren immediately began to cry. Which was exactly what Peter wanted, though he wasn't sure Aly's presence here would help, necessarily. It couldn't hurt. "Alright, Lydia..." Peter soothed her again. "Just do what he says." Peter was far too aware that any wrong move would deprive Hope of her life.
"Tie his hands behind his back!" Dragonetti shouted, ignoring the crying baby. He watched as Lydia commenced tying Peter up, and then he turned to see Aly Kemp enter the room.
"Peter, what are you doing to that ba- Oh my god..." Aly glanced at her husband who tried to tell her to stay calm with his eyes. He wasn't sure the message got through. Aly, who was more frantic to keep Anna and Caleb safe, turned back to the kitchen to tell them to run.
"Don't you go anywhere, or I will shoot her!" Dragonetti screamed, and Hope screamed too.
"Aunt Aly, please!" Hope breathed, terror gripping her.
Aly froze, and she turned to glare at Dragonetti. "Why are you doing this?"
"You are in league with the devil, and must be cleansed," Dragonetti said simply. "Get your other children. Now. There are five still missing, yes?"
Aly continued to stare at him. "I'm not bringing them in here."
"You'll bring them in here, or I will shoot this girl in the neck and then I will shoot your daughters."
"How can someone be so hateful," Aly hissed. "Lauren is just a baby! Surely your God doesn't condone this!"
"An eye for an eye!" Dragonetti screamed. "You killed our men!"
Peter let out a long sigh. Damn that Ryn! Peter had never killed anyone on a rescue mission, but when one of Dragonetti's men had opened fire at Peter and despite the fact that it wouldn't kill Peter, Ryn had returned fire and killed a Templar. It was useless death and one Peter regretted deeply, even though it hadn't been his actions which had brought it about. Clearly Dragonetti blamed him anyway.
"And just what do you think my husband is going to do to you for this?!" Aly hissed at him, and Peter silently begged Aly to stop. She wasn't helping. He couldn't do anything while the gun was on Hope. She was bluffing and Dragonetti was going to call it.
"I had him at my mercy for three weeks," Dragonetti said softly. "And the only show of power was last week in Nova Prata. I think you're impotent unless your father sends you to do his bidding," Dragonetti said to Peter. Peter groaned inwardly. People really would find any explanation they could to explain things they couldn't understand...
"Get your children in here. Now. And don't you dare leave my sight while you do it." Dragonetti cocked the gun he held at Hope's side, and that was enough for Aly. She held the door open and called for Caleb and Anna, telling them to bring William and Thomas as well. They complied and Dragonetti turned back to face Peter, who was now bound and sitting on the sofa. "Where is Natasha?"
"Her name is Tasha," Peter growled at Dragonetti. Tasha had changed it when her parents had died and she had come to live with Peter and his family. "And she's not here."
"Well you see, this is a problem," Dragonetti said with a glare at Peter. "I want her too." Peter assumed that this was because she had been the one to arrest him, but what Dragonetti said next certainly came out of nowhere. "She has to be involved in your dark rituals. Her name backwards is 'Ah, Satan'. You probably killed her parents and took her for your own."
"Her name backwar..." Peter shook his head as he mentally tried to see if this was correct. "I told you her name is Tasha. Which backwards, is Ah, Sat. No Satan. And I most certainly did not kill her parents!"
"We'll wait," Dragonetti informed them. He gestured for Aly to take a seat on the sofa along with the children, though the little ones he ordered to be placed in the play pen with Lauren. He sat with Hope, across from them, the gun always trained at Hope's side. "We can't do this without her."
They sat for hours, waiting for Tasha to come home. Peter knew Tasha was visiting Renee, and likely wouldn't come home for several more hours, which was for the best. Tasha was mortal too, and not as strong as she had once been. They sat there, staring at this man who was holding them at bay, huddled together in fear for what might come. Hope looked terrified while the gun rested against her side, and Peter's children were clearly scared too. Most of them couldn't die, but a bullet wasn't pleasant. And Peter didn't want any of them to have to go through it.
Peter's bound arms began to ache, and he knew his children were probably hungry as well. Their dinner had been interrupted, and little Caleb was diabetic. Lauren was crying and eventually William joined in, and still Dragonetti didn't budge. He didn't let Peter or Aly go to the small children, no matter how much they begged to be allowed to. He just let the children cry. They were no worry of his. He was here to cleanse them anyway. Peter had a horrible feeling that didn't mean anything lovely like a shower...
He had had more than enough. His family was scared and his children were in pain and danger. He had to do something. "Alessandro, do the others know you're here?"
"Shut up!" Dragonetti hissed at Peter. "I didn't tell you you could speak."
"I'm just wondering...this could go badly for you if they don't know where you are. Or did you not tell them because you know they wouldn't agree with this? This is indulging in the sin of wrath, isn't it?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Dragonetti hissed. "Everything I do, I do in the name of God."
Peter shook his head. "Our history would be so different, so much better if so many people didn't think exactly as you do."
"Who are you to talk!? You burst in on our place of worship and committed an all out assault on our people!"
"You were holding people captive!" Peter cried out. "Much like you are right now. I couldn't let it continue. But Dragonetti, that assault...it was smoke and mirrors, feeding off your belief that I'm the Antichrist. That's all... It was to try to keep the casualties low... I'm sorry for what happened."
"Sly words of a practiced liar," Dragonetti growled.
"I have to pee!" Lydia interrupted them both, standing up and crossing her arms. Peter's heart seized up and he hoped she wasn't doing anything very silly.
"Lydia..." he warned, but she was having none of it.
"What?! I have to pee, and I don't think my bladder is willing to wait for Tasha to get back. It could be hours." She turned back to Dragonetti expectantly.
Dragonetti glared at her, dubious. "Hold it."
"You hold it!" Lydia shot back. "Or so help me, I'll piss on you!" Peter bit his lip. Dear god, his daughter had spirit.
Dragonetti leaned backwards and he saw the bathroom. It was in his eyeline if he scooted back an inch. "Alright. Leave the door open."
Lydia screwed up her face. "Yeah right! I'm not leaving the door open so you can perv your priesty eyes all over me!"
"Then you can hold it!" Dragonetti yelled at her. Beside Peter, Anna whimpered and he wished he could hold her, but his arms were tied. "It's your choice!"
"You're a sicko," Lydia informed Dragonetti. She stood and headed towards the bathroom, but not before Dragonetti stood as well.
"We'll come with you," he said, pulling Hope along. He could stand outside the bathroom and still make sure the family in the living room stayed put.
Lydia, who didn't have to use the bathroom at all, looked incredibly put out. She glanced back at Anna, who was still sitting beside Peter, right before she ducked into the bathroom, and Peter saw something pass between them. Some kind of non-verbal language sisters seemed to have that Peter would never quite understand. He got it a moment later, however, when Anna carefully slipped a phone into his hands which Dragonetti had ever so conveniently concealed behind his back. Right then, Peter decided his daughters were pure geniuses. He had programmed all of his children's mobile phones with speed dial numbers, just in case, and Thomas' just happened to be the second on the list, right behind his. Quickly, while Lydia cursed and hissed and acted annoyed at being followed to the bathroom which created a magnificent diversion, Peter keyed the phone to ring Thomas even behind his back. Then he concealed the mobile in the cushions behind him.
Lydia was brought back to the living room and she glared at Dragonetti. "Dad, I know you used to be one, but priests are mad creepy."
Peter gave her an apologetic expression. "Sometimes. Not always." It was then he noticed Lydia was holding something. He noticed too late that it was pepper spray. He had no idea where she had gotten it, though it must have been somewhere in the bathroom, or in a pocket she could only get to without Dragonetti's direct eyeline on her. And before Peter could tell her not to, Lydia raised it and squirted the stuff right in Dragonetti's face.
Dragonetti gave a howl of rage and pain, during which he dropped his grip on Hope. Hope gasped and crawled quickly out of the way while Dragonetti flailed and he managed to catch Lydia's shirt collar. He dragged her backwards and hit her in the face with the gun. Lydia screamed in pain and fell to the floor.
Peter had had more than enough. And with Hope out of immediate danger, he was stopping this now. Peter jumped up from the sofa, and the ropes Lydia had 'tied' fell off easily. He darted forward. Even through his stinging eyes, Dragonetti saw him and fired the gun wildly.
Aly screamed at Hope and Anna to get the children somewhere safe and she jumped up as well, only to be caught in the heart by the bullet Dragonetti had intended for Peter. Peter watched his wife drop to the floor and his own heart stopped. She would be okay. She had to be okay. "Aly!"
Dragonetti aimed the gun right at Peter, hunched over and squinting. "Don't move, or I'll shoot you too."
Peter didn't care. This man had done unspeakable things to him, and witnessed far more than that. He had overseen the execution of Robert MacGavillary, and he had just put Peter's family through terrible fear. He had even tried to poison them all once, even from prison. This was ending now, whether Peter got shot in the process or not. He charged forward as a bullet whizzed over his left shoulder and another caught his hair, slightly burning his scalp on it's way past him. He grabbed Dragonetti's wrists and he pushed them up while he shoved Dragonetti backwards. Dragonetti was a fighter, but Peter was stronger than he looked and Dragonetti had just taken a hit of pepper spray to the eyes. Peter managed to shove him against the wall and when Dragonetti's arms were raised and he was off-balance, Peter grabbed the gun and twisted it out of Dragonetti's hands, just like Tasha had shown him to do. Having a cop as a daughter definitely paid off.
"I told you to leave my family out of it!" Peter growled. He slammed Dragonetti into the wall again and then he held the gun to Dragonetti's throat. "I warned you!" For one terrible moment, Peter thought he might pull the trigger. He teeth bared and he revelled in the fear in Dragonetti's eyes. "Now look! Look at what happens when you fu-"
"Dad!" Lydia had picked herself up off the floor and she put her hand on her father's arm. "Dad, don't kill him."
Peter took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm not going to kill him, Lydia," Peter assured her, even though he really wished he could. He hated this man with every fibre of his being. This man had looked on while Peter had suffered in the dark. He had overseen Peter's pain and starvation and done nothing about it. This was a bad man, but Peter respected himself far too much to let this man get the better of him and make him do something he considered below him, and his daughter had stayed his rage. Instead, Peter turned the gun around and he hit Dragonetti over the head with it, then he stepped back and he watched the man crumple to the floor, unconscious. "Lydia, will you tie him up please? And this time don't use slip knots?"
"Sure," Lydia moved to do just that and Peter unloaded the gun before moving to his wife's side. Aly was stirring, and though her chest was covered with blood, there was no longer a bullet hole to be found, which meant Dragonetti's shot had been lethal. Aly's angelic body had healed the damage, and it wouldn't have done that unless the wound would cause death.
"Aly, are you alright?" Peter asked her quietly, He propped her up and kissed her hair. "It's alright now. He's out."
"Peter, I kept seeing Lavannah instead of Hope... The gun..." Peter knew he was talking to David, not his wife.
"I know, David. It's alright. It's over."
"What are you going to do with Dragonetti?" David indicated the slumped form of the priest. "Are you going to have Tasha arrest him again?"
"He's dead, don't you know?" Peter said. Dragonetti had faked his death to get out of prison, and Peter didn't truly trust a prison to hold him. "I'm going to prove to him that he's been misguided, if it takes the rest of my existence to do so. No one will be looking for him. He doesn't exist. And I'm fairly sure if the Templar knew he had come here, they would have a little something to say about it. In their work rooms." Peter shook his head. "Is my wife in there?"
"She's a little shaken up," David admitted. "My poor, dear little sister."
"I'll take care of her," Peter promised.
"You always do, Brother." Peter smiled and then Aly looked up at him again and it was her. "Peter?"
"Hello, Gorgeous." He kissed Aly's hair again. "It's all okay. I'm sure the kids are terrified. I think Anna and Hope got them outside. Hopefully to Deirdre's or Spectre's-" As Peter said it, the front door burst open.
"Peter!" Thomas yelled, and his eyes widened in horror at the blood on Aly's shirt and the slumped form of Dragonetti. "What happened?"
"Just a little hostage situation," Peter stood and he helped Aly up too.
"Oh, dammit, I loved this shirt!" Aly said, looking down at herself.
"Just be glad you aren't saying 'oh dammit, I loved this body'," Peter reminded her. "Thomas, I need you to take Dragonetti to my hospital. Make sure he doesn't wake up and if he does, blindfold him. I want him secure. Have Katia help, she'll know where to put him."
Thomas nodded. "Of course, Peter. Are you sure you're okay?"
"We'll manage," Peter gave his best friend a thin smile. "Thank you."
While Thomas bundled the unconscious Dragonetti away, Peter and Aly rounded up the children. They made sure that everyone was alright, and that Lydia wasn't too badly hurt from her altercation with Dragonetti.
"I'm hungry," Caleb reminded them, in his usual blunt way. "Can we eat now?"
"The paella is ruined," Aly commented, glancing at it, gone cold in his pan on the stove.
"That's alright, we'll order about fifteen pizzas. I could use some food myself." Peter glanced in the fridge and he dug out some pickles so Caleb could have something right then to make sure his blood sugar didn't tank. "And I think spending the night at Liz's might be in order. Just a thought."
Aly nodded. "A good thought. Let's get out of here."
No one disagreed.
Lydia and Anna were setting the table while Peter sat in the living room, jiggling his daughter Lauren on his knee. He had offered to help Aly in the kitchen, but she had informed him if he didn't leave right then, he was going to end up with flour in his hair. And the very tidy Peter just couldn't handle that. In addition, she had informed him that the traditional Valencian paella was supposed to have snails in it, and if he wasn't very nice to her, she would switch back to the original recipe, instead of substituting prawns as she had been. Peter thought Aly could be mean when she was territorial... He did not mind in the slightest watching Lauren, however. She was having a good day and as Peter bounced her, she grinned at him; a rare expression indeed. "There's Daddy's little girl! There she is! Why don't you smile all the time, princess, your smile is so beautiful." Peter lifted Lauren into the air and she squealed and then he kissed her all over.
Lydia stepped in from the dining room and she raised her eyebrows at her father and little sister. "You didn't do that to me, did you?"
"I'll do it to you right now, don't you tempt me, Missy," Peter winked at her. "Isn't she beautiful when she smiles?" Peter held Lauren up and the tiny girl beamed at Lydia.
"Did someone feed her happy brownies or something?" Lydia asked dubiously.
"Lydia!" Peter's voice was appropriately scolding, another rarity. "She just loves her daddy is all. Isn't that right, Princess?!" Peter kissed Lauren all over again and she let out a small whoop.
"Welllll, that I can understand." Lydia flounced back to the dining room and as she did so, the doorbell rang. "Doorbell, Dad!"
"Yes, thank you. You are ever so helpful," he called after her.
"Whatever, I set the table!" she yelled back and Peter chuckled.
"Lauren, you're never allowed to become a teenager," Peter informed his youngest daughter as he rose from the couch. He held Lauren on one side and when he reached the door, he pulled it open to see a very concerned looking Hope, staring at him with a strange look on her face. Worried about his niece, he immediately stepped back to allow her access to the house. "Hope, What's wrong?"
Hope's expression melted into deep regret, and Peter's stomach knotted with terror. He had a feeling something very bad was about to happen, and he wasn't wrong. "I'm so sorry, Peter Kemp...I'm so sorry!" Hope hissed, and before Peter could ask why, he saw. A gun appeared from around the corner, aimed directly at Hope's side. And when the wielder of said gun stepped into view, Peter was staring into the face of Father Alessandro Dragonetti. A face he rather detested.
Peter understood at once. The property was alarmed and only someone who knew the combination could get past it without it going off and signalling the police. Dragonetti had waited until someone who had that knowledge had come along. Hope knew the combination and Dragonetti had forced her to use it to let him in. Terror was spawning in Peter's stomach, but he tried to remain calm for Hope's sake. "It's alright, Hope," Peter said, trying to calm her. This wasn't her fault. It's alright." Peter tried to shift his tiny daughter so she was behind him as much as was possible. Dragonetti wasn't wearing his robes. Peter found it incredibly strange to see the man without his Templar garb...or the garb of a prisoner. He was wearing jeans and a long winter coat. Somehow, it didn't make him any less intimidating.
"Dragonetti, why don't you aim that thing at me? Hmm? There's no need to bring a teenage girl into it." Peter locked eyes with the Templar, unable to believe this was happening. It was a nightmare.
Dragonetti, who hadn't said a word yet, narrowed his eyes at Peter. "I know for a fact this gun won't hurt you, Antichrist. I can see from your expression, it'll hurt her."
"It would hurt me too," Peter said truthfully. Thanks to his immortality, that was all it would do, but the belief that it wouldn't hurt was pure fallacy. "Just...let her go and I'll come with you..." His heart rebelled at those words, but he meant them.
Dragonetti shook his head and he pushed the gun into Hope's side, causing her to whimper. Peter gritted his teeth together and he realised, quite suddenly, that he wasn't breathing. He quickly took in a deep breath and he tried his best to keep the rest of his home shielded by his body. "Okay, okay! What do you want?!"
"Back up. Get inside." Dragonetti nodded his head towards Peter's living room.
Peter tilted his head, his eyes pleading. "Dragonetti...please...my family-" If Dragonetti hurt them, Peter wouldn't forgive himself.
"Your family is as unholy as you are!" Dragonetti finally screamed, and Peter felt his stomach fall through the floor. He knew his actions in Nova Prata might come back to bite him in the arse. He had played into the Templar's delusions in order to save their captives, but he had hated that in doing so, he had seemingly proven their delusions right. And now here Dragonetti was, for justice or revenge, or whatever he had it in his mind to take now. And while he had his gun trained on Hope, there was nothing Peter could do about it.
"You don't want my family, you want me." Peter was backing up now, being forced into his living room by an advancing Dragonetti, who wouldn't aim the gun anywhere but at his niece's side. "You can take me, this is unnecessary."
"Take you so you can wreak your unholy havoc on us again? I don't think so," Dragonetti glared. "Even the Vatican couldn't hold you."
Peter swallowed roughly and he tried not to panic about being brought back there. It was his worst nightmare, but if it spared his family from pain, he would go. He would go willingly right now. "You tell me what it will take for you to leave my family out of it, and I'll do it," Peter vowed, desperation tainting his voice. "Please." The pain he had suffered in that pit was nothing compared to what he would experience watching his children suffer.
Dragonetti shook his head. "Not this time, Antichrist." He grinned wolfishly at Peter. "I am going to finish with you."
Peter couldn't believe the Templar would have sent Dragonetti here. Not after what had happened at Nova Prata. And not in civilian clothing. He had to be working on his own. Dragonetti was a dangerous man and Peter was not the Antichrist. All of his 'powers' from Nova Prata had been angelic illusion. He had two angels here with him now, but neither the thirteen-year-old Anna, nor his wife were adept enough in their visions to accomplish what Mirela and Joel had. There had to be another way out of this that didn't end in Hope being shot. "And...what does finish entail, exactly?"
Dragonetti opened his mouth, but at that moment, Lydia stepped into the room from the swinging kitchen door. "Dad, Mum says- Whoa."
"Lydia, go back into the kitchen!" Peter shouted, but Dragonetti was quicker. He grabbed Peter's daughter as well, and he shoved her towards Peter and Lauren.
"Oh, what the hell?!" Lydia shrieked, glaring at the man who had just shoved her. The man who had a gun on her cousin. "Dad, what's going on?!" Lydia was a lot more jaded than most girls her age. Instead of terror, she reacted with annoyance.
"Lydia, this is Alessandro Dragonetti..." Peter said, his voice heavy with gravitas. Lydia looked back up at him, her eyes wide. Now she looked scared.
"Ah, Lydia." Dragonetti stared at her. "Nice of you to join us. I want you to tie your father up." Dragonetti pulled unzipped his coat and he pulled out some rope with one hand, the other one always holding the gun on Hope. "Nice and tight." He tossed the rope to Lydia who held it like it was a detestable thing.
Lydia stared at Peter, terrified. "Dad...what's happening?"
"It's okay..." Peter tried to soothe her. "It's going to be okay." There were a lot of them, and only one of Dragonetti. They would get through this somehow, even if Dragonetti was the one with the gun. He was worried, however, how Aly would react. David had been held like this by Amaris, and Amaris had forced him to do unconscionable things to his own daughter just to keep Amaris from killing her. David was in Aly's head now. He wasn't entirely sure if this situation would make either of them snap. "I'll need to put Lauren down," Peter said to Dragonetti, though every nerve in his body was telling him not to; to keep her shielded. "There's a playpen. Behind the couch." At least it was out of the way...
Dragonetti nodded and, reluctantly, Peter handed Lauren to Lydia. Lydia grumbled and she placed her sister in the play pen where Lauren immediately began to cry. Which was exactly what Peter wanted, though he wasn't sure Aly's presence here would help, necessarily. It couldn't hurt. "Alright, Lydia..." Peter soothed her again. "Just do what he says." Peter was far too aware that any wrong move would deprive Hope of her life.
"Tie his hands behind his back!" Dragonetti shouted, ignoring the crying baby. He watched as Lydia commenced tying Peter up, and then he turned to see Aly Kemp enter the room.
"Peter, what are you doing to that ba- Oh my god..." Aly glanced at her husband who tried to tell her to stay calm with his eyes. He wasn't sure the message got through. Aly, who was more frantic to keep Anna and Caleb safe, turned back to the kitchen to tell them to run.
"Don't you go anywhere, or I will shoot her!" Dragonetti screamed, and Hope screamed too.
"Aunt Aly, please!" Hope breathed, terror gripping her.
Aly froze, and she turned to glare at Dragonetti. "Why are you doing this?"
"You are in league with the devil, and must be cleansed," Dragonetti said simply. "Get your other children. Now. There are five still missing, yes?"
Aly continued to stare at him. "I'm not bringing them in here."
"You'll bring them in here, or I will shoot this girl in the neck and then I will shoot your daughters."
"How can someone be so hateful," Aly hissed. "Lauren is just a baby! Surely your God doesn't condone this!"
"An eye for an eye!" Dragonetti screamed. "You killed our men!"
Peter let out a long sigh. Damn that Ryn! Peter had never killed anyone on a rescue mission, but when one of Dragonetti's men had opened fire at Peter and despite the fact that it wouldn't kill Peter, Ryn had returned fire and killed a Templar. It was useless death and one Peter regretted deeply, even though it hadn't been his actions which had brought it about. Clearly Dragonetti blamed him anyway.
"And just what do you think my husband is going to do to you for this?!" Aly hissed at him, and Peter silently begged Aly to stop. She wasn't helping. He couldn't do anything while the gun was on Hope. She was bluffing and Dragonetti was going to call it.
"I had him at my mercy for three weeks," Dragonetti said softly. "And the only show of power was last week in Nova Prata. I think you're impotent unless your father sends you to do his bidding," Dragonetti said to Peter. Peter groaned inwardly. People really would find any explanation they could to explain things they couldn't understand...
"Get your children in here. Now. And don't you dare leave my sight while you do it." Dragonetti cocked the gun he held at Hope's side, and that was enough for Aly. She held the door open and called for Caleb and Anna, telling them to bring William and Thomas as well. They complied and Dragonetti turned back to face Peter, who was now bound and sitting on the sofa. "Where is Natasha?"
"Her name is Tasha," Peter growled at Dragonetti. Tasha had changed it when her parents had died and she had come to live with Peter and his family. "And she's not here."
"Well you see, this is a problem," Dragonetti said with a glare at Peter. "I want her too." Peter assumed that this was because she had been the one to arrest him, but what Dragonetti said next certainly came out of nowhere. "She has to be involved in your dark rituals. Her name backwards is 'Ah, Satan'. You probably killed her parents and took her for your own."
"Her name backwar..." Peter shook his head as he mentally tried to see if this was correct. "I told you her name is Tasha. Which backwards, is Ah, Sat. No Satan. And I most certainly did not kill her parents!"
"We'll wait," Dragonetti informed them. He gestured for Aly to take a seat on the sofa along with the children, though the little ones he ordered to be placed in the play pen with Lauren. He sat with Hope, across from them, the gun always trained at Hope's side. "We can't do this without her."
They sat for hours, waiting for Tasha to come home. Peter knew Tasha was visiting Renee, and likely wouldn't come home for several more hours, which was for the best. Tasha was mortal too, and not as strong as she had once been. They sat there, staring at this man who was holding them at bay, huddled together in fear for what might come. Hope looked terrified while the gun rested against her side, and Peter's children were clearly scared too. Most of them couldn't die, but a bullet wasn't pleasant. And Peter didn't want any of them to have to go through it.
Peter's bound arms began to ache, and he knew his children were probably hungry as well. Their dinner had been interrupted, and little Caleb was diabetic. Lauren was crying and eventually William joined in, and still Dragonetti didn't budge. He didn't let Peter or Aly go to the small children, no matter how much they begged to be allowed to. He just let the children cry. They were no worry of his. He was here to cleanse them anyway. Peter had a horrible feeling that didn't mean anything lovely like a shower...
He had had more than enough. His family was scared and his children were in pain and danger. He had to do something. "Alessandro, do the others know you're here?"
"Shut up!" Dragonetti hissed at Peter. "I didn't tell you you could speak."
"I'm just wondering...this could go badly for you if they don't know where you are. Or did you not tell them because you know they wouldn't agree with this? This is indulging in the sin of wrath, isn't it?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Dragonetti hissed. "Everything I do, I do in the name of God."
Peter shook his head. "Our history would be so different, so much better if so many people didn't think exactly as you do."
"Who are you to talk!? You burst in on our place of worship and committed an all out assault on our people!"
"You were holding people captive!" Peter cried out. "Much like you are right now. I couldn't let it continue. But Dragonetti, that assault...it was smoke and mirrors, feeding off your belief that I'm the Antichrist. That's all... It was to try to keep the casualties low... I'm sorry for what happened."
"Sly words of a practiced liar," Dragonetti growled.
"I have to pee!" Lydia interrupted them both, standing up and crossing her arms. Peter's heart seized up and he hoped she wasn't doing anything very silly.
"Lydia..." he warned, but she was having none of it.
"What?! I have to pee, and I don't think my bladder is willing to wait for Tasha to get back. It could be hours." She turned back to Dragonetti expectantly.
Dragonetti glared at her, dubious. "Hold it."
"You hold it!" Lydia shot back. "Or so help me, I'll piss on you!" Peter bit his lip. Dear god, his daughter had spirit.
Dragonetti leaned backwards and he saw the bathroom. It was in his eyeline if he scooted back an inch. "Alright. Leave the door open."
Lydia screwed up her face. "Yeah right! I'm not leaving the door open so you can perv your priesty eyes all over me!"
"Then you can hold it!" Dragonetti yelled at her. Beside Peter, Anna whimpered and he wished he could hold her, but his arms were tied. "It's your choice!"
"You're a sicko," Lydia informed Dragonetti. She stood and headed towards the bathroom, but not before Dragonetti stood as well.
"We'll come with you," he said, pulling Hope along. He could stand outside the bathroom and still make sure the family in the living room stayed put.
Lydia, who didn't have to use the bathroom at all, looked incredibly put out. She glanced back at Anna, who was still sitting beside Peter, right before she ducked into the bathroom, and Peter saw something pass between them. Some kind of non-verbal language sisters seemed to have that Peter would never quite understand. He got it a moment later, however, when Anna carefully slipped a phone into his hands which Dragonetti had ever so conveniently concealed behind his back. Right then, Peter decided his daughters were pure geniuses. He had programmed all of his children's mobile phones with speed dial numbers, just in case, and Thomas' just happened to be the second on the list, right behind his. Quickly, while Lydia cursed and hissed and acted annoyed at being followed to the bathroom which created a magnificent diversion, Peter keyed the phone to ring Thomas even behind his back. Then he concealed the mobile in the cushions behind him.
Lydia was brought back to the living room and she glared at Dragonetti. "Dad, I know you used to be one, but priests are mad creepy."
Peter gave her an apologetic expression. "Sometimes. Not always." It was then he noticed Lydia was holding something. He noticed too late that it was pepper spray. He had no idea where she had gotten it, though it must have been somewhere in the bathroom, or in a pocket she could only get to without Dragonetti's direct eyeline on her. And before Peter could tell her not to, Lydia raised it and squirted the stuff right in Dragonetti's face.
Dragonetti gave a howl of rage and pain, during which he dropped his grip on Hope. Hope gasped and crawled quickly out of the way while Dragonetti flailed and he managed to catch Lydia's shirt collar. He dragged her backwards and hit her in the face with the gun. Lydia screamed in pain and fell to the floor.
Peter had had more than enough. And with Hope out of immediate danger, he was stopping this now. Peter jumped up from the sofa, and the ropes Lydia had 'tied' fell off easily. He darted forward. Even through his stinging eyes, Dragonetti saw him and fired the gun wildly.
Aly screamed at Hope and Anna to get the children somewhere safe and she jumped up as well, only to be caught in the heart by the bullet Dragonetti had intended for Peter. Peter watched his wife drop to the floor and his own heart stopped. She would be okay. She had to be okay. "Aly!"
Dragonetti aimed the gun right at Peter, hunched over and squinting. "Don't move, or I'll shoot you too."
Peter didn't care. This man had done unspeakable things to him, and witnessed far more than that. He had overseen the execution of Robert MacGavillary, and he had just put Peter's family through terrible fear. He had even tried to poison them all once, even from prison. This was ending now, whether Peter got shot in the process or not. He charged forward as a bullet whizzed over his left shoulder and another caught his hair, slightly burning his scalp on it's way past him. He grabbed Dragonetti's wrists and he pushed them up while he shoved Dragonetti backwards. Dragonetti was a fighter, but Peter was stronger than he looked and Dragonetti had just taken a hit of pepper spray to the eyes. Peter managed to shove him against the wall and when Dragonetti's arms were raised and he was off-balance, Peter grabbed the gun and twisted it out of Dragonetti's hands, just like Tasha had shown him to do. Having a cop as a daughter definitely paid off.
"I told you to leave my family out of it!" Peter growled. He slammed Dragonetti into the wall again and then he held the gun to Dragonetti's throat. "I warned you!" For one terrible moment, Peter thought he might pull the trigger. He teeth bared and he revelled in the fear in Dragonetti's eyes. "Now look! Look at what happens when you fu-"
"Dad!" Lydia had picked herself up off the floor and she put her hand on her father's arm. "Dad, don't kill him."
Peter took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm not going to kill him, Lydia," Peter assured her, even though he really wished he could. He hated this man with every fibre of his being. This man had looked on while Peter had suffered in the dark. He had overseen Peter's pain and starvation and done nothing about it. This was a bad man, but Peter respected himself far too much to let this man get the better of him and make him do something he considered below him, and his daughter had stayed his rage. Instead, Peter turned the gun around and he hit Dragonetti over the head with it, then he stepped back and he watched the man crumple to the floor, unconscious. "Lydia, will you tie him up please? And this time don't use slip knots?"
"Sure," Lydia moved to do just that and Peter unloaded the gun before moving to his wife's side. Aly was stirring, and though her chest was covered with blood, there was no longer a bullet hole to be found, which meant Dragonetti's shot had been lethal. Aly's angelic body had healed the damage, and it wouldn't have done that unless the wound would cause death.
"Aly, are you alright?" Peter asked her quietly, He propped her up and kissed her hair. "It's alright now. He's out."
"Peter, I kept seeing Lavannah instead of Hope... The gun..." Peter knew he was talking to David, not his wife.
"I know, David. It's alright. It's over."
"What are you going to do with Dragonetti?" David indicated the slumped form of the priest. "Are you going to have Tasha arrest him again?"
"He's dead, don't you know?" Peter said. Dragonetti had faked his death to get out of prison, and Peter didn't truly trust a prison to hold him. "I'm going to prove to him that he's been misguided, if it takes the rest of my existence to do so. No one will be looking for him. He doesn't exist. And I'm fairly sure if the Templar knew he had come here, they would have a little something to say about it. In their work rooms." Peter shook his head. "Is my wife in there?"
"She's a little shaken up," David admitted. "My poor, dear little sister."
"I'll take care of her," Peter promised.
"You always do, Brother." Peter smiled and then Aly looked up at him again and it was her. "Peter?"
"Hello, Gorgeous." He kissed Aly's hair again. "It's all okay. I'm sure the kids are terrified. I think Anna and Hope got them outside. Hopefully to Deirdre's or Spectre's-" As Peter said it, the front door burst open.
"Peter!" Thomas yelled, and his eyes widened in horror at the blood on Aly's shirt and the slumped form of Dragonetti. "What happened?"
"Just a little hostage situation," Peter stood and he helped Aly up too.
"Oh, dammit, I loved this shirt!" Aly said, looking down at herself.
"Just be glad you aren't saying 'oh dammit, I loved this body'," Peter reminded her. "Thomas, I need you to take Dragonetti to my hospital. Make sure he doesn't wake up and if he does, blindfold him. I want him secure. Have Katia help, she'll know where to put him."
Thomas nodded. "Of course, Peter. Are you sure you're okay?"
"We'll manage," Peter gave his best friend a thin smile. "Thank you."
While Thomas bundled the unconscious Dragonetti away, Peter and Aly rounded up the children. They made sure that everyone was alright, and that Lydia wasn't too badly hurt from her altercation with Dragonetti.
"I'm hungry," Caleb reminded them, in his usual blunt way. "Can we eat now?"
"The paella is ruined," Aly commented, glancing at it, gone cold in his pan on the stove.
"That's alright, we'll order about fifteen pizzas. I could use some food myself." Peter glanced in the fridge and he dug out some pickles so Caleb could have something right then to make sure his blood sugar didn't tank. "And I think spending the night at Liz's might be in order. Just a thought."
Aly nodded. "A good thought. Let's get out of here."
No one disagreed.