darker_london | The Offering (Gavin, Dragonetti, and then Peter)

After his terrible ordeal in the Scavenger's daughter, Gavin had been whipped and racked, and made to confess his sins again and again until it seemed like Alessandro Dragonetti was satisfied. Gavin had no way of knowing it was all a show. Every single second if it. True, he was being purified in the Lord, and Dragonetti was glad that Gavin had accepted God's grace so easily. But Gavin was not going free. He was never meant to go free. Had he been in his right mind he might have realised. His right mind, however, had been purified right out of him. So when Dragonetti stepped into his cell and threw Gavin's clothes at his feet while saying those blessed words, 'you're free to go' Gavin didn't take a moment to think twice.

Getting dressed was a struggle. Gavin didn't think about the fact that most sinners were treated to a stay in the infirmary after being set free. It didn't enter his mind. He simply fought his way into his clothing, and he gladly accepted Dragonetti's help in leaving his cell.

"Can...could I have some food?" Gavin asked, his voice light and meek.

Dragonetti was in the process of helping Gavin up the stairs, which was never particularly easy in long robes and a mask. It was made all the more unmanageable by having an extra person to schlep up them, tiny as he may be. "You are free to go, Gavin Kincade. Would you really delay your stay here by taking food with us?"

That, itself, was an inner war Gavin couldn't seem to resolve in himself. Stay or go? Go. Go. Maybe this was a test and if he stayed, he was showing he was a glutton. Not having eaten much of anything for five days, notwithstanding. Logic entered in very little to the Templar's way of thinking. Go.

"No...nevermind. I...I'm sorry."

Dragonetti's crocodile smile was concealed underneath his hood as he said, "you are forgiven, Gavin Kincade."

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Peter was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, waiting for Razvan to pay for the petrol. Razvan had made some comment about being Peter's 'bumboy' which Peter had thought was hilarious and Razvan hadn't been so amused. Peter had still made him go pay. It was Peter's money, it wasn't like Razvan had to dip into the immense Dumitra funds to pay for the fuel they were using to look for Peter's friend.

His mobile started to vibrate in his pocket right before bursting into the opening bars of Walkin' on Sunshine. Peter let out an unmanly yelp just as Razvan returned to the car.

"I leave you alone for thirty seconds and you break out the toys. Naughty, Father Peter, naughty."

Peter glared at Razvan. "Just get in, Hatrack." Peter flipped open his phone to answer. He didn't recognise the number... "Hello?"

"Peter!" Gavin's voice was both desperate and weak. He was leaning against the wall of an old fashioned red telephone booth and hoping it would remain supporting him. He had been let go and simply allowed to wander the seemingly bare streets of the city above the Templar hide out. Yet another clue which would have occurred to him were he not desperate for help. He needed someone to come to him. He was far too weak to make it to anyone else. Something Dragonetti was counting on.

"Peter, I need help."

"Gavin!" Peter turned in his seat and he slapped Razvan's arm several times in relief.

"Ow! Keep your slappy hands to yourself!"

Peter ignored Razvan, being rather adept at it by now. "Gavin, where are you? Are you alright? I'm in my car now, I can come get you!"

Gavin let his eyes fall closed and his broken body leaned more heavily against the phone booth. "Thank you," he breathed. "I'm on some...road. Middle of nowhere. The road says 'Connors Way' and I think I'm near some abandoned factory? It has a big...white and red sign. Mmm. Says Faulkner."

If they took too long, they were going to find him unconscious. His ability to remain upright and awake was slipping away from him. "Bring food, okay? Bring food."

Peter felt his stomach contract with fear and quickly he wrote out everything Gavin had just said for Razvan as he kept Gavin talking. That was the key. Keep him talking. He sounded inches away from slipping.

While Razvan messed with the GPS and then pulled out of the petrol station, Peter kept up his end of the conversation. "Keep talking, Gavin. Who had you. What happened?"

"Was...Templar. Said I needed...punish. Peter. Thought they were gonna keep me." Gavin rested his head against the wall of the booth, his red hair smashed up against the plexiglass. "And then...they let me go. I said I was sorry. Peter. I'm so sorry." Gavin began to cry softly, tears unbidden. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, Gavin." Buildings whipped by them as Razvan drove. And Peter's heart broke for his friend. He understood. He understood wanting to apologise for anything and everything on the off-chance that that would make it stop. It never did.

The Templar believed their cause to be one of Good Faith, but in the end all they were doing was willing people to go against what was at it's very root, human nature. And when people followed their basest instincts, they were punished for them in secret and sent back to their lives, expected to return to some sort of stasis where they could deny their impulses and be brought closer to God. And for some it worked, simply because the threat of pain and death was enough to drive anyone's base impulses right away from them. Who could focus on making love or enjoying a meal when they were remembering what the thumbscrews felt like when they crushed a finger?

Peter wanted Gavin to know it wasn't his fault. He wanted the poor young man to feel comfort in knowing that he would be safe now. He was so wrapped up in getting to Gavin...in saving him, that he didn't once worry about himself.

"Gavin, it's not your fault. We're on our way. It's going to be alright. You have nothing to apologise for, I promise you." Peter checked inside the glove box to ensure that there was food in there, and then he pointed the turn out to Razvan who actually managed to grit his teeth and keep his sarcastic comment at bay for once. "We're almost there, Gavin. We're almost there."

Edited 2009-10-10 11:37 (UTC)

Dragonetti crouched low and he watched Gavin's thin form out of a broken window. "There's a car approaching," he mentioned to his comrade who had his gun at the ready. "Remember I don't want either of them leaving here."

"What if Father Kemp brought company?" the Templar asked, his hand slightly shaky.

"We do not allow traitors to retain their former titles. If Peter Kemp has company, take them out. Same way you deal with Peter and Gavin. We simply won't be bringing them with us. Keep steady, you are about to honour your Maker."

The young man simply nodded, never tearing his eyes away from the approaching car.

The second Razvan slowed the car down enough so as not to cause egregious bodily harm, Peter opened the door and jumped out of it. He stumbled and righted himself, before darting the hundred yards or so to the phone booth Gavin was still slumped in.

"Gavin!" Peter tore the doors open and Gavin practically tumbled into his arms. "Gavin, I'll get you home. Don't worry."

Gavin smiled up at Peter, and though the expression was weak, it was genuine. "I got out. I knew you'd come."

"I may vomit!" Razvan called over from his spot near where the car had finally stopped.

"Ignore him. Of course I would come." Peter lifted Gavin, which was quite easy considering Gavin was quite small and on the extremely slight side. The second Peter turned around to carry Gavin to the car, something whizzed through the air and embedded in Gavin's side.

Peter reacted instantly. "RAZVAN! Drain them! Drain them, they're here!"

Razvan gave Peter a look as if he was insane. "NO! Not unless you want me slaughtering half of Lond-" He never finished his sentence. Two darts lodged themselves in his neck and he tumbled to the ground.

Peter crounched down and he darted towards the car as another dart whizzed by his ear, missing him by centimetres. Above him, Dragonetti grabbed the dart gun away from his comrade and he took the next shot himself.

The dart lodged itself in Peter's upper arm, and Peter felt an instant sense of calm flood through him. He was falling and he didn't care. The world was growing dark and he didn't care.

He was going to be taken.

And he didn't care.

Even with Razvan's demonic system, the drugs he had been shot with took an hour to clear his system. When he awoke, he did so with a hell of a headache, and tunnel vision.

He also woke alone.

"Chief?" Razvan sat and he picked his hat up off the ground and wiped the dart from it before placing it back on his head. Then he stood, shakily, using the car for assistance. "Chief?! Short Round?" Razvan tried to feel for Peter, but his annoying empty angel aura wasn't anywhere near.

"Oh god..." Razvan looked around him in desperation. "No. Oh no. No, I did not just lose Peter Kemp!" Razvan groaned in frustration and then he dashed off to search the nearby buildings in the vain hope that Peter was hiding somewhere inside with Gavin safely tucked away. They obviously hadn't left. The car was here.

He didn't quite know how he was going to face returning home to explain how he had misplaced their awkward leader. Razvan himself was an example of just how much of a difference Peter Kemp made.

Without him, they were all so very, very screwed.

The Offering (Gavin, Dragonetti, and then Peter)

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