Disclaimer: Okay folks, time for me to fulfill my woeful duty of telling you what's mine and what's not.

Unfortunately the cast of Heroes (this sadly includes peter, ) belongs to NBC and other special people and not myself. I don't own Superman or Kryptonite, or Wisconsin.

I am happy to say that I own all of the stable hands, the ranch and the Mayberrys.

Despite the title of the story, there are no actual angels or demons; that is simply the view of the characters in the story of the other characters.

I hope you enjoy my happy hero fanfic. Please review to let me know if there should be another chappie or not!

A lone crumpled form could be seen in a farm in the north of Wisconsin. It was in a heap on the ground, looking as though it had fallen from the sky itself. It was a man, looking to be mid-twenties. His black hair was a complete mess and dried blood could be seen on his forehead. He was handsome, but his features were marred by dirt and a long diagonal gash across his face. Most of his clothes were burned in places and his chest and sleeves were completely burned away.

This was the sight that met Mrs. Mayberry's eyes as she walked through the field that belonged to her husband on his farm. She came to this spot in the middle of a field that many years ago contained wheat. She had seen something fall out the sky as she watered the flowers in her window and set out to investigate. She was bewildered by where this handsome man came from and what brought him into this state.

She was an elderly woman and had been quite melancholy since her husband, Mr. Mayberry, passed away two years ago. Their two children had come to see her frequently but lived away with their own families now. But she had boarded some stable hands that helped her manage the ranch, for the last few years. The ranch wasn't as busy as it once was but still put to good use. Even with all that had gone on there, this sight was quite unusual to her.

She knelt down next to his prone form and with expert hands checked his pulse and was amazed to find that he was still alive, now that she was closer she could see his bare chest rise and fall. An angel, she thought, clearly a fallen angel. She, being a mother herself, began straightening his hair and adjusting what was left of his clothes. While she was, she saw something sticking out of his pocket. It was his wallet.

To save herself, from an eternity of calling him Angel, she pulled it out gently. It was made of brown leather and looked to be quite expensive. Upon opening it, she immediately saw the face of this fallen angel lying in her field. Alongside him in the picture was another man, looking to be at least five years older. He looked similar to the angel, they had the same eyes; but something about him was undeniably different. He had a cold look in his eyes that her Angel was clearly devoid of. She immediately decided that she did not like this man. The two men, clearly had a small physical similarity, but much was also different. Demon, she thought, staring at the similar difference next to her angel. Mrs. Mayberry continued to flip through the pictures in his wallet.

There was another picture with the angel and the demon, but a woman was in it as well. She stood behind them, while they sat down. She was a proud and imposing woman with a cold demeanor and sharp features; but something warm seeped through the cold. The look on her face as she looked down at the boys, and from a mother's prospective, there was no mistaking it. Love was in her eyes upon seeing them, and a word popped into Mrs. Mayberry to perfectly describe her, Mother. She's their mother. But as Mrs. Mayberry once more gazed at the demon and the angel in the picture, she couldn't help but see them as different, the similarities began to creep away as she gazed upon them. They can't be brothers, she thought, they are just too different.

And with that she flipped to the next picture. And when she did her eyes came across one of the prettiest things she's ever seen, excluding her daughter, Rachel, on her wedding day, It was a picture of a girl with pretty blonde hair and light blue eyes. She wore a red and white cheerleaders uniform and stared out of the picture with a bright smile and kind eyes. Smiling to herself in jest, Mrs. Mayberry thought, If this man is and angel, she must be too.

Pulling her eyes from the pretty face she flipped it once again only to find the angel's driver's license staring up at her. There was no mistaking how attractive he was as she gazed upon him. She found his name: Peter Petrelli. Then something odd struck her about the license, it was from New York. Turning her eyes back on the angel in her field, she asked aloud, "How did you get all the way out here, Peter?"

She now saw that something white poking out of the pocket for the bills; she took it out carefully. It was a standard sized photo folded at an angle and stuffed in the wallet. She unfolded it to reveal that it was a picture of a painting. It showed her angel on the ground in a grotesque position in a pool of his own blood. Mortified by what she saw, Mrs. Mayberry hastily refolded it and put it back amongst Peter's bills and closed the wallet.

She knelt there a moment more, fixing his hair and gazing lovingly at his face. Then she rose and started off towards the barn. A stable hand named Clark would be grooming the horses about now and she needed his help with the angel. She was old and walked with a slight limp but she made quick work of getting the barn with a determined pace, and found herself inside the barn in a matter of minutes. Once in she called, "Clark, I need you!"

"Coming ma'am!" came his usual respectful reply from towards the back of the line of stables. Two minutes later he appeared looming from his former squatting position. He was very large for his age, being 19 years old but 6'3". He had brown hair and caring dark blue eyes. Seeing she was upset, he asked, "What's wrong?"

She told him about her discovery before adding, "That's why I came to you, I need you to put your strength to work, and go out and get him. I need you to bring him in the house."

He nodded without question then jogged out of the barn in the direction she just came from.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Mayberry headed out of the barn and to the main house. Once inside, she called upstairs, "Ellen, come down here dear!"

Ellen was another help around the ranch and like most of the others, stayed at the house.

She came downstairs and after a quick explanation on Mrs. Mayberry's part set about helping her.

So they set to work preparing for Peter. They unfolded the couch, to reveal a bed; raided the medicine cabinet, emerging with gauze, peroxide, bandages, a thermometer, and anything else the two thought necessary.

Ellen also wet half a dozen wash clothes to help with the cleaning effort, and Mrs. Mayberry found some old clothes that belonged to Mr. Mayberry.

About the time Mrs. Mayberry got back downstairs, Clark was banging on the door. Ellen rushed over and opened it before quickly moving out of the way. Clark deposited Peter on the bed- couch and stepped back exhaling heavily. Ellen got her first good look at him and noted, "He looks like a war victim. If it weren't for the normal clothes, I would think he dropped out of a helicopter."

Clark also put his two cents in, "I think he's Superman and came into serious contact with Kryptonite."

Mrs. Mayberry chuckled, "All valid, But I like to think he's a fallen angel."

The stable hands smiled, it was just like Mrs. Mayberry to look at things like that. Of course it just made them love her more.

Clark sighed, "I just want to know what really happened to him. How did you say you found him again?"

"I saw him fall from the sky while I was watering my pansies in the kitchen window. And he was like that when I got out there."

"And you have no clue what happened to him?" Ellen asked earnestly.

"None." Mrs. Mayberry replied.

Clark stepped closer, "Do you even know who he is?"

Mrs. Mayberry held up her angel's wallet and said, "I found this in his pocket. It says he is Peter Petrelli from New York."

"How in the world did he get here from the sky like that and look like this?" Ellen asked aghast.

Mrs. Mayberry sighed and looked down at the angel, "I wish I knew."

After that Clark went back out to finish his duties and she and Ellen continued taking care of him. It turned out he had a temperature of 102 degrees Fahrenheit. The two began applying cold wet wash clothes to his forehead to alleviate heat.

Mrs. Mayberry managed to get him to swallow water. They located, cleaned and bandaged his wounds.

Next they shed what was left of his shirt and wrestled one of Mr. Mayberry's shirts over the bandages. His pants had rips and burns in it but non were that major. The two women, opted to let Clark do it, or Peter himself when he wakes up. If he wakes up, Mrs. Mayberry couldn't help but think bitterly.

Deciding there wasn't much more they could do, Mrs. Mayberry let Ellen go on back upstairs for the rest of her day off. Mrs. Mayberry herself sat down in the recliner next to the couch and watched him till she dozed off. Her last thought before sleep took her was:

What in the world happened to this fallen angel?

There you have it people! The first chapter of Demons and Angels!

I have another chapter written but not typed, I will not type it however, if I don't get enough reviews.

So review for the sake of the story.