Survival of The Fittest

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Prologue

Restless Nights and Unexpected Guests

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The cold night air poured in through the window , rustling the curtains. They danced remarkably as the breeze carried them and set them down in a graceful , never ending waltz of motion. He lay still and quiet , watching them . The motion was fluent and smooth , with an occasional flap as yet another current of air sent it cascading inward. The movement calmed his weary and preoccupied mind . When sleep refused to carry him away into the pleasant and soporific world , to the exhilarating dreams of flight , he had taken to watching the most hypnotic thing in the room. He longed for that surreal feeling of air above and air below. Not tonight...

The room itself was silent , save for the snapping and rustling of the cloth hanging on his windows. Yet his mind was filled to the brim with the words of his brother. In ways , he mentally scorned Nathan for being afraid of what they could do , but in others he knew that there was truth in that fear. No one would willingly accept what they could do. But what about the other people out there . The ones that could do strange and unusual things.

" What would people do if they knew what we were capable of? " The paternal voice of his brother resounded through his head. " They'd lock us up and throw away the key...

There were more people who felt the same . What about the cheerleader? The painted look on her face had been seared into his mind. She stared back at him with desperate , terrified eyes. Though he knew that she was staring into the face of her would-be murderer , he felt that she was looking at him through the canvas. Pleading . Crying out to him to save her... to save the world.

An urge to move onto his side overcame him , so he shifted and positioned himself. Now he faced one of his bedroom walls. Blank. Again he tried to settle his mind enough to sleep , and again the sleep refused to come. His eyes blinked , but did not become heavy. His chest expended and contracted , but refused to slow. He was too contemplative to sleep and found himself pleading with his mind to quiet itself. Raising his gaze to the bedside table , he caught sight of the luminescent numbers of his Equity alarm clock. They read the late witching hour of midnight.

Rather than laying in a darkened room , tortured by his own mind , he rolled his legs over the side of the bed and stood. A chill ran it's invisible fingers across the skin of his bare back as the wind permeated the bedroom. Soft brushes of his feet against the carpet covered the gentle whistling of the air passing through the confined space of his window. With a swift , impatient movement he slammed the window shut.

Sounds of the night were quieted , as he continued his haunt through the empty apartment. There was no point in turning on the lights , seeing as it was his apartment. Aimlessly , he wandered , pacing across the floor . This made him feel slightly uneasy with his own thoughts, thoughts that may be leading him to the point of lunacy. The mere concepts of what he was thinking seemed impossible , even to him , but something was leading him to some unknown conclusion. He knew in his heart and mind that there were answers. The traveler from the future had confirmed that...

A loud and unsettling noise broke him out of the train of deep and aggravating state of thought. Pausing , unsure if he had actually heard something , he waited. Again came the loud , almost desperate sounding rumble of someone pounding on his door. Who would be coming here in the middle of the night? Taking short , hesitant steps he approached the door. Soon the rumbling became more rapid and with seemingly no space between the knocks.

Leaning against the door he called to the outside , " Who's there?"

There was a soft pant-like shudder , " Thank God your home. "

" Yeah... " He was confused by the strange ragged breathing underneath the soft feminine voice.

" Please , please ..." The women's panting turned into exasperated weeping. " Please open the door Peter. Your the only one who can help me. "

" I'm sorry. I have no idea who you are." Backing away from the door , he waited for her answer. Only silence met his ears. Had she gone?

A loud creaking noise filled the room , like the wood of the wall was being pulled apart. He darted from the door to what he hoped would be a safe distance. Watching in horror , he saw what was making the horrible creaking. Before his eyes , the solid wood of the door began pulling itself sideways, as if the door was made of rubber. Soon a large , gaping hole had formed , revealing a frail silloette standing in the hallway. Through the darkness , he could make out the most obvious features of the girl. She had short , unbrushed locks the color of a raven's wings. Her face was gaunt and sunken around her dark eyes . It was almost unbearable to look at her nearly emaciated appearance.

Through her weakened state , she managed a small relieved smile. " Peter..."

As soon as his name had escaped her lips , she swayed sideways , eyes rolling into her skull. Acting quickly , he caught her right as she was about to hit the ground. Holding her delicate form in his arms , he watched the door seal itself as if the hole had never been there at all.

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A/N: This chapter is set prior to Peter seeing the painting of his death in "Homecoming" , and just after his talk with Nathan about their abilities.