Stay Alive 001
Title: Stay Alive
Chapter 001
GENISIS: Redux
Characters/Pairings: Peter, three 2 OMCs, 1 OFC
Rating: PG-13 for now. Will probably go up as the story progresses.
Warnings: Mild mental torture in this chapter; gets much, much heavier later on. AU. Possible Nathan/Peter incest, can't tell at this point.
A/n: I would also like to reiterate my lack of knowledge of Heroes. I’ve seen the first episode, bits and pieces of the second, the entirety of RUN!, and the beginning of UNEXPECTED. The rest of my information has been gleaned from HereoesWiki.
The interesting thing about this piece is that the original idea was born in the Ghost in the Shell universe. However, as my perceptions of the show, as well as my priorities, shifted, the idea was dropped. I’m glad to have been able to resurrect it in this form....
This story starts in the middle of GODSEND. Peter is awake and out of the hospital, but he hasn't met Claude.
Spoiler alert: Probably for everything up to the middle of GODSEND.
Summary: Kidnapping without ransom. Torture without blood. And people coming at him from all sides. Peter had better put all the pieces together, and fast.
*****
---------------------
“This life distorts and slowly washes away
either way I'm trapped inside of here
I can't express how I won't accept this any other way
Your eyes I knew would say so much
but they make me lost gone in thought
I can't accept this any way”
-- “Sleep Deprivation” by Professional Murder Music
---------------------
If only they would let him sleep.
Peter slumped against a window of the metro train, numbly watching the cracks in the wall as it sped on. The woman sitting next to him smiled and patted his hand. “I know it’s hard,” she said. “Just hang on, alright? We’ll see what happens when we arrive at the safe house.”
It took several minutes for him to grasp what exactly it was he wanted to say. He gathered his voice up from around his ankles, and said, “I’m...really sorry. I can’t remember your name....”
Her smile broadened kindly. “That’s quite alright. I understand you’re under pressure. It’s Adelita.”
He nodded. Then something else occurred to him. “You don’t look Mexican.”
“It’s my mother’s legacy. She had a Spanish love long ago, apparently.” She smiled, green eyes twinkling. “Somehow I reminded her of him.” She patted his hand again. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that they’ll let you rest when we get there.”
Another nod. It would probably become a habit. He reflected that the truly infuriating thing was how polite she was to him.
He returned to watching the window. It was going to be a long wait.
---------------------
It ended up that they switched trains three times -- doubling back twice and then returning to the same platform at the end. Peter was stumbling as two rather large and intimidating men pulled him along by his arms.
The first man had a rather dim-witted look, with a shaggy blonde haircut and piggy blue eyes. Ham-fisted and somewhat slack-jawed, he was obviously not one of great intellect. Apparently, he didn’t like the fact that his new charge was having trouble with his feet; he also decided to do something about it.
Mercifully, the platform was empty. There were no bystanders to see Peter being punched in the stomach, to see him double over and cough up several mouthfuls of blood.
“Silvestre,” Adelita said sharply. “Stop it.”
Coughing weakly and supported only by the arm of his other male captor, Peter unwisely said, “‘Silvestre?’ Sorry ‘bout that lame name, man, I’d be pissy too --”
This time the punch slammed into his jaw. There was a distinct crunching noise, and the mandible was next seen at a distinctly crooked angle.
Adelita said something and moved towards the blonde. Peter was too distracted with pain to notice whatever she was doing. Tentively, he poked and prodded the lower bone back into place, wincing as it fused back into its proper position.
The second man, who had dark hair, tanned skin and a serene expression steadied his prisoner when he wobbled. Grateful, Peter opened his mouth to thank him, but his custodian shook his head.
Wondering why he had been forestalled, Peter looked over his shoulder. He swallowed.
Silvestre wasn’t there.
Tugging mussed hair back into place, Adelita’s green eyes flashed. “I think we’ll only need Gaetano. You won’t try to run away, will you Peter?” She didn’t wait for a reply, which was good; he didn’t have one. She turned away and gave the station clock an annoyed look.
Peter shivered. Gaetano gave him a comforting pat on the back.
---------------------
The whole thing had started two days earlier.
Peter, out for a walk to clear his head, had found himself the victim of an attack. By no means a fighter, he was unable to defend himself. And then Gaetano showed up, and cracked some skulls.
The remaining bandits must have suddenly remembered an extremely substantial appointment somewhere else. They certainly ran away quickly enough.
After straightening out a broken arm, Peter had thanked his deliverer. It had earned him a swift blow to the head, and knocked him out. When he had woken up, he’d been in the hospital with an IV in his arm. Adelita had been sitting next to him.
The last clear thing he remembered was her smile. Everything else was a blur. It slowly dawned on him that they must have drugged him to keep him awake.
Odd. He’d never thought of that sort of use before.
He felt his eyelids fluttering. His neck began sagging. It had been two days, he reasoned. The drug must have washed out of his system by now.
The blessed nothingness of sleep was beginning to encroach on his vision. At last, his body began achieving that sense of lightness he needed. His head lolled to one side.
Something cold touched his arm. He shrieked as an electrical buzz lit through the air and scorched his arm.
Stunned into wakefulness, he looked frantically at his arm. The fresh, cauterized burns hissed softly -- steam, or perhaps smoke, began to curl in the air.
“Sorry,” Adelita said. He gawked at her and the slim, silver stun baton in her hand. “Sorry,” she repeated. “But you can’t go to sleep. Not yet.”
“Why not?” His voice cracked on the last word.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have my orders. But you’d better heal that.” She nodded to the burns.
“I -- I don’t know how --”
“Don’t be coy, Peter. You healed your jaw on the platform, and your arm two days ago. Whatever you’ve figured out, it works.”
A sullen mood slowly blanketed over him. The burns healed themselves, and the rest of the ride passed in silence. Peter didn’t try to fall asleep again.
---------------------
Five days. No sleep. 120 solid hours.
And they were still in the subway.
Peter was silent, curled up on the seat. He watched Gaetano, who seemed to be in a quiet conversation with Adelita.
Peter didn’t feel well. His body ached. His eyes burned. He was convinced there was a nest of rattlesnakes on the floor next to him. They hissed, and moved about, dry scaly skins scraping together. He struggled to recall the information about sleep deprivation he had learned in training, but all he came up with was ‘death.’
---------------------
Seven days. 168 hours. Still on the subway. Peter looked down at himself and realized he was wearing different clothes. Then he touched his head and found his hair was wet.
“Did we stop?” he asked. Adelita smiled at him and nodded.
“Yes, we did. How do you feel?”
“Doesn’t make sense,” he said, not realizing his words were slurring. “I should -- I should remember, I don’t remember, why don’t I --?”
“You’ll remember soon,” the young woman said soothingly. “We just need to get to the safe house --”
“What safe house?” He stood up, lurched to one side, and steadied himself. “There is no safe house! There’s nothing, th-there’s -- it -- just one sick game -- Freaks!”
“Sit down, Peter. You’re making people stare at us.”
“No! This is nuts, I’m leaving!” He tried to walk to the train doors, planning to keep his balance by swaying in time with the subway motions.
It didn’t work out. He probably would have ended up breaking his nose -- or worse -- by falling if Gaetano hadn’t caught him, dutifully ignoring his loud protests that this was all insane, and that he was fine, and where the hell were they going anyway.
Just to make sure he stayed awake, Adelita shocked him again with the stun baton.
*****
Chapter 001
GENISIS: Redux
Characters/Pairings: Peter, three 2 OMCs, 1 OFC
Rating: PG-13 for now. Will probably go up as the story progresses.
Warnings: Mild mental torture in this chapter; gets much, much heavier later on. AU. Possible Nathan/Peter incest, can't tell at this point.
A/n: I would also like to reiterate my lack of knowledge of Heroes. I’ve seen the first episode, bits and pieces of the second, the entirety of RUN!, and the beginning of UNEXPECTED. The rest of my information has been gleaned from HereoesWiki.
The interesting thing about this piece is that the original idea was born in the Ghost in the Shell universe. However, as my perceptions of the show, as well as my priorities, shifted, the idea was dropped. I’m glad to have been able to resurrect it in this form....
This story starts in the middle of GODSEND. Peter is awake and out of the hospital, but he hasn't met Claude.
Spoiler alert: Probably for everything up to the middle of GODSEND.
Summary: Kidnapping without ransom. Torture without blood. And people coming at him from all sides. Peter had better put all the pieces together, and fast.
*****
---------------------
“This life distorts and slowly washes away
either way I'm trapped inside of here
I can't express how I won't accept this any other way
Your eyes I knew would say so much
but they make me lost gone in thought
I can't accept this any way”
-- “Sleep Deprivation” by Professional Murder Music
---------------------
If only they would let him sleep.
Peter slumped against a window of the metro train, numbly watching the cracks in the wall as it sped on. The woman sitting next to him smiled and patted his hand. “I know it’s hard,” she said. “Just hang on, alright? We’ll see what happens when we arrive at the safe house.”
It took several minutes for him to grasp what exactly it was he wanted to say. He gathered his voice up from around his ankles, and said, “I’m...really sorry. I can’t remember your name....”
Her smile broadened kindly. “That’s quite alright. I understand you’re under pressure. It’s Adelita.”
He nodded. Then something else occurred to him. “You don’t look Mexican.”
“It’s my mother’s legacy. She had a Spanish love long ago, apparently.” She smiled, green eyes twinkling. “Somehow I reminded her of him.” She patted his hand again. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that they’ll let you rest when we get there.”
Another nod. It would probably become a habit. He reflected that the truly infuriating thing was how polite she was to him.
He returned to watching the window. It was going to be a long wait.
---------------------
It ended up that they switched trains three times -- doubling back twice and then returning to the same platform at the end. Peter was stumbling as two rather large and intimidating men pulled him along by his arms.
The first man had a rather dim-witted look, with a shaggy blonde haircut and piggy blue eyes. Ham-fisted and somewhat slack-jawed, he was obviously not one of great intellect. Apparently, he didn’t like the fact that his new charge was having trouble with his feet; he also decided to do something about it.
Mercifully, the platform was empty. There were no bystanders to see Peter being punched in the stomach, to see him double over and cough up several mouthfuls of blood.
“Silvestre,” Adelita said sharply. “Stop it.”
Coughing weakly and supported only by the arm of his other male captor, Peter unwisely said, “‘Silvestre?’ Sorry ‘bout that lame name, man, I’d be pissy too --”
This time the punch slammed into his jaw. There was a distinct crunching noise, and the mandible was next seen at a distinctly crooked angle.
Adelita said something and moved towards the blonde. Peter was too distracted with pain to notice whatever she was doing. Tentively, he poked and prodded the lower bone back into place, wincing as it fused back into its proper position.
The second man, who had dark hair, tanned skin and a serene expression steadied his prisoner when he wobbled. Grateful, Peter opened his mouth to thank him, but his custodian shook his head.
Wondering why he had been forestalled, Peter looked over his shoulder. He swallowed.
Silvestre wasn’t there.
Tugging mussed hair back into place, Adelita’s green eyes flashed. “I think we’ll only need Gaetano. You won’t try to run away, will you Peter?” She didn’t wait for a reply, which was good; he didn’t have one. She turned away and gave the station clock an annoyed look.
Peter shivered. Gaetano gave him a comforting pat on the back.
---------------------
The whole thing had started two days earlier.
Peter, out for a walk to clear his head, had found himself the victim of an attack. By no means a fighter, he was unable to defend himself. And then Gaetano showed up, and cracked some skulls.
The remaining bandits must have suddenly remembered an extremely substantial appointment somewhere else. They certainly ran away quickly enough.
After straightening out a broken arm, Peter had thanked his deliverer. It had earned him a swift blow to the head, and knocked him out. When he had woken up, he’d been in the hospital with an IV in his arm. Adelita had been sitting next to him.
The last clear thing he remembered was her smile. Everything else was a blur. It slowly dawned on him that they must have drugged him to keep him awake.
Odd. He’d never thought of that sort of use before.
He felt his eyelids fluttering. His neck began sagging. It had been two days, he reasoned. The drug must have washed out of his system by now.
The blessed nothingness of sleep was beginning to encroach on his vision. At last, his body began achieving that sense of lightness he needed. His head lolled to one side.
Something cold touched his arm. He shrieked as an electrical buzz lit through the air and scorched his arm.
Stunned into wakefulness, he looked frantically at his arm. The fresh, cauterized burns hissed softly -- steam, or perhaps smoke, began to curl in the air.
“Sorry,” Adelita said. He gawked at her and the slim, silver stun baton in her hand. “Sorry,” she repeated. “But you can’t go to sleep. Not yet.”
“Why not?” His voice cracked on the last word.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have my orders. But you’d better heal that.” She nodded to the burns.
“I -- I don’t know how --”
“Don’t be coy, Peter. You healed your jaw on the platform, and your arm two days ago. Whatever you’ve figured out, it works.”
A sullen mood slowly blanketed over him. The burns healed themselves, and the rest of the ride passed in silence. Peter didn’t try to fall asleep again.
---------------------
Five days. No sleep. 120 solid hours.
And they were still in the subway.
Peter was silent, curled up on the seat. He watched Gaetano, who seemed to be in a quiet conversation with Adelita.
Peter didn’t feel well. His body ached. His eyes burned. He was convinced there was a nest of rattlesnakes on the floor next to him. They hissed, and moved about, dry scaly skins scraping together. He struggled to recall the information about sleep deprivation he had learned in training, but all he came up with was ‘death.’
---------------------
Seven days. 168 hours. Still on the subway. Peter looked down at himself and realized he was wearing different clothes. Then he touched his head and found his hair was wet.
“Did we stop?” he asked. Adelita smiled at him and nodded.
“Yes, we did. How do you feel?”
“Doesn’t make sense,” he said, not realizing his words were slurring. “I should -- I should remember, I don’t remember, why don’t I --?”
“You’ll remember soon,” the young woman said soothingly. “We just need to get to the safe house --”
“What safe house?” He stood up, lurched to one side, and steadied himself. “There is no safe house! There’s nothing, th-there’s -- it -- just one sick game -- Freaks!”
“Sit down, Peter. You’re making people stare at us.”
“No! This is nuts, I’m leaving!” He tried to walk to the train doors, planning to keep his balance by swaying in time with the subway motions.
It didn’t work out. He probably would have ended up breaking his nose -- or worse -- by falling if Gaetano hadn’t caught him, dutifully ignoring his loud protests that this was all insane, and that he was fine, and where the hell were they going anyway.
Just to make sure he stayed awake, Adelita shocked him again with the stun baton.
*****