Author's Note:This is a very Piper-centric chapter. It has to be, it's the climax. Anyway, everyone will have ramifications for what happens in this chapter. I've decided 1 post-climax chapter and an epilogue to bring it up to 23 chapters. I also had an idea for my next story, rather collection of short stories about what happened to everyone else (Duncan, how Jackie re-met Wallace, Parker, Max, etc). Anyway, enjoy this chapter :) As always, correct me where I'm needed!
Chapter 21: The Phoenix
Piper had stayed on the roof for a little over an hour before she decided it was time for her to move. She had felt her phone buzz once or twice, nothing alarming, and decided to leave it there. It was Keith who had made her decide what to do, Keith's words resounded in her own head over and over again. Piper knew it was true, nobody was going to do anything to him, nobody was going to move on him, nobody was going to help her find closure. Piper's version of closure in this instance was one of retribution.
She placed the iPhone on top of one of the air conditioning units and walked to the stairs. The hallway on her floor was quiet when she opened the door to her own room. Everything inside was dark, the curtains were drawn shut, the lights were all off. Piper stayed in the dark for a while, she was staring at her .45 placed on the coffee table, magazine resting beside it, holster spread over the couch. Under the curtains, she saw the light failing, starting to turn to dusk.
'Time to go,' Piper thought bitterly to herself.
She had made her decision the other night, decided to bid Piz a farewell and let Veronica and Logan have their happily ever after. She didn't anticipate coming back from what she planned on doing. For Piz to blurt out that he was falling for her was too much, Piper had to leave. She had to distance herself from these people she grew too attached to.
Piper got to her feet finally, slid on a pair of dark denim jeans and tucked them into tall, dark brown boots. Her arms slid easily through a black t-shirt and she reached for the belt and holster splayed out on the couch. The magazine clicked into place and the button on her holster snapped when she belted the gun to her hip. She braided her long hair over her shoulder tight against the back of her neck and pulled a black synthetic leather bomber jacket over her shoulders. Piper stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself.
This was a ritual she kept up before any big bust, you could arrange all the photos of Piper and Veronica from their first bust until their last and Piper would look as though it had all happened on the same day. She had heard footsteps in the hallway and a voice she pegged as Veronica's at some point while she got dressed, but she didn't go out into the hall. Two sets of footsteps had rushed down the hallway and Piper started to move.
She went to the bottom floor and got back a much classier car than she had started with, the bright white Chevy Spark would not have suited for doing unsavory deeds in the darkness. She had exchanged it for a small black Infinity Z4. After all, if this was to be her last night she may as well enjoy it in style, right?
It only took Piper twenty minutes to ease the Infinity against the curb adjacent to The River Styx. She sat in the car for a moment, staring at the façade of the building she had grown to loathe. Finally, she got out of the car and opened the trunk.
Piper pulled out a bottle, clear glass, corked shut, and removed the cork. Transparent yellowish liquid swished around inside under her hands, the bottle felt heavy, sure, confident. She grabbed a strip of white cloth from the bottom of the trunk and stuffed it inside the bottle so the end had started to soak up the liquid. It stank of gasoline, of fragility, of potential.
Piper stared at the building again, cradling the image of Angela's mangled corpse in her mind. She steeled herself against emotion, denied the sorrow in her throat passage, barred the gnawing self-doubt of what she was about to do, ignored the tug of sentimentality she had pushed away towards the friends she had made.
Piper pulled a silver Zippo lighter from her back pocket and lit the edge of the fabric. She strode towards the bar and gripped the bottle, leaning her arm back, and took a powerful step forwards. The flaming cocktail of all her rage and hatred slid out of her fingers. Piper watched it smash through a window in a room above the façade. She stood there in the darkness, watching the impending growth of orange and yellow glow gently at first in the window.
Keith grabbed his jacket and moved quickly, "Veronica, can you get through to her?"
Veronica shook her head, "No. Piz is still looking for her downtown."
"Call him. Get him to come by here."
She did as he ordered, Piz had found no sign of the Spark or of Piper, nobody he asked had seen her downtown. Piz's foot was heavy on the pedal as he pushed the Vue as hard as it would go. It cut the time in half it normally would have taken him to get to Mars Investigations, he found himself running up the stairs.
Keith grabbed his shoulders, "We need to find her. She won't be downtown. She'll be somewhere poetic, like the pier or the spot her sister died."
"That's forty-five minutes from here," Veronica said urgently.
Keith nodded, "We have to split up, I'll go to where Angela was found. You and Logan check the pier, Piz come with me."
And so they divided up, Logan and Veronica sped towards the pier. Nothing.
Keith and Piz were on the highway halfway to San Diego when Piz was hit by a jarring sense of realization. He reached over and hit Keith in the arm, "Stop, stop, stop. You're going the wrong way," his voice got louder as he was suddenly flooded with a sense of alarm, "I know where she is."
Piz fumbled for his phone and dialed Veronica's number, "You're in the wrong place, get to The River Styx now. You have to go, right now!" he shouted.
Veronica hung up and explained to Logan as they ran to the Land Rover, "Piz thinks she went to The River Styx, he thinks Piper would go right to the source."
"What do you think?" Logan asked, clicking the belt into place.
Veronica frowned and mulled it over, she looked up at him and nodded, "I think he's right. Normally she'd corner them, she's like a fox and roots her prey where she wants it to end up. This isn't a normal situation, she has to change up her strategy. The only choice Piper has is to pitch herself into the belly of the beast."
Piper watched the smoke begin to wisp out of the upper floor of the building. She strode slowly, purposefully towards the front door and pushed it open, hard. Everyone looked up, but it was Liam who got to his feet. His sleeves were rolled up, he wore tattered jeans, and was particularly less cleaned up than he had been at the Grand.
His face broke into a feral smile when he saw her, resting the pool cue against the edge of the table, "Well, well. What do we have here?"
She said nothing, just watched him coolly. Piper glanced at the staircase to the right of the bar, saw a small film of smoke start to filter down. She gave him a slow, dark smile and felt her fingers twitch in anticipation.
It was Molly Fitzpatrick who followed her gaze, letting out a slight scream ,"Fire! Holy crap, fire! Get everyone out of here!" she tossed the bar counter up and ran past it, ushering people out. There were a few cronies of Liam's who hung back, watching him for his instructions. The fire had started to rage now, it had really begun to get a taste for the old wood of the bar. Flames had begun to lick at the end of the stairs, the sides of the back shelves.
Liam gestured to the men watching him, "Get out of here. I can handle this one on my own, boys."
They walked past her, intending to push her or knock her down, but the way Piper carried herself made them second guess themselves. Instead, they parted around her like a stream around a boulder, Piper wasn't planning to move and they couldn't bring themselves to try and make her.
Smoke filled the room now, Piper felt it burning her eyes. The pool table behind Liam was being tested warily by the fire, tasting it, whetting its appetite for more. The whole room was aglow with red-orange flames, something crackled and fell behind her, but she didn't care to check.
Piper took a few steps towards Liam and fixed her eyes on his, "You knew this day was going to come eventually."
He said nothing, just smirked. They circled each other, Liam shoved tables out of the way, created almost an arena for just the two of them.
"You knew I was going to find you, you knew I was going to tear you down," Piper didn't reach for her gun, she had brought that with her in case she needed it. No, she intended this moment to be personal, to be physical, to be arduous and terrible.
Liam raised his fists and gave her a sharp laugh, "Come on then, little Clancy, show me what your type of vengeance looks like."
Piper shrugged off her jacket and cast it off, letting go of the twinge of sadness that the jacket would be eaten alive by the fire that was starting to rage. She closed in on him and took the first punch, he ducked and went for her side. She felt the hard force of wind being pushed from her lungs, but ignored it, snapping her arm back to strike him in the temple when he attempted to straighten up.
Liam aimed his knee for her stomach, but Piper curled in on herself for a split second and let her forearms take the blow. She winced and lashed out at his chest quickly, landing a hard punch in his chest. He took a few steps backwards and Piper took the moment to recover. She hopped from foot to foot, smiling viciously at him, "If that's the best you can do, your little gang is in serious need of a reelection."
Liam scowled at her, she had started to get under his skin, "Stop talking and start trying."
It was his turn to lunge for her, he grabbed her by the shirt and heaved her forwards, slamming Piper into the ground. She let out a startled noise and felt tiny wood splinters scrape across her face as she slid. Piper rolled to the side when Liam brought a foot down towards where her head had been. His foot broke collided with the floor with a bang and Piper moved quickly. She wrapped her hands around his ankle and his calf, twisting hard to throw him off balance.
It worked, Liam's head smacked into the wood and he roared in agitation. Piper scrambled to get her bearings back, rolling onto her stomach and moving forwards on her forearms. She had gotten to a small crouch when Liam's boot heel collided with the side of her hip. Piper shrieked in pain and stumbled forwards again, bracing herself on her hands. An upturned shard of wood sliced into the heel of her hand and she let gritted her teeth to try and bear the sting.
Piper felt Liam launch himself onto her back and wrap an arm around her throat, pinning her to the ground. He struggled to get a knee into her back and his struggle had bought her the seconds she needed. Piper pitched her elbow back as hard as she could, feeling it land hard under his armpit. Something gave under her elbow and he let out a scream. Piper squirmed to get away and threw her elbow back again, hard.
It made contact with what she assumed was his face, blood gushed warm and thick over her elbow and he recoiled onto his back with a cry of surprise or anguish, it was hard to tell which one. She scrambled forwards, stumbling over herself, and got to her feet. Piper's chest heaved with the effort of it all.
She didn't turn to face him for a second, taking a moment before unclipping the .45 from its holster. Piper turned slowly and raised the gun, her injured hand wrapped around the trigger, uninjured hand steadying her grip.
Liam tried to move backwards, hands raised in defense. He was laughing, darkly, defeatedly. Blood flowed freely from his nose and a cut on his forehead, rolling into his eyes and mouth, staining his teeth crimson.
Piper's shoulders shook and she pointed the barrel of the gun at him, "Say her name." she said quietly.
He laughed louder, incredulously, "What?! Who's name?"
"Don't play games with me!" Piper shouted, "Say her name, say it now!"
"I don't even remember her name!" he shouted back.
Piper's eyes were cold, hard, unforgiving. She roared at him, "I want you to die with Angela's name on your lips. Say it, say it!"
"Angela?" Liam tried to remember.
Piper bared her teeth in a wince of pain when she put pressure on her right leg, he mistook that for something animalic and predatory, choosing to say it again and again in against maniacal laughter.
Veronica stared at the sight before her, the façade of The River Styx vomiting fire and smoke. Far off, she heard sirens. Veronica threw the door of the Land Rover open, Logan followed her muttering, "Oh my god, oh my god."
Something hit Veronica in the side of the head and she crumbled to the ground, stars mottling her vision. Danny Boyd seemed to materialize out of the darkness and dropped a plank on the sidewalk. He looked down at her with a violent smile on his lips, "Well, well. Miss Mars, nice to see you again."
Logan looked over at her and let out a shout, "Veronica!"
Danny looked over at him and put his hands up, bracing himself in time for Logan to hurl himself at Danny. It was a flurry of punching, Logan felt a rib crack and slammed his fist into Danny's cheek. There was a snapping sound and a shriek of fury.
Danny pulled away from Logan and stumbled backwards. Logan wrapped an arm around his side and smiled combatively back at Danny. He wiped a trail of blood from a cut on his forehead, "Man up, Danny. Don't run away now."
"Who said anything about running away?" his speech was stifled, Logan was sure he had broken a cheekbone.
Veronica shook her head sharply, felt the haze recede from her vision. She looked down the sidewalk at Logan and up the sidewalk at Danny. It seemed everyone had expected her to lay there and take a two-by-four to the temple lying down, Veronica groped the sidewalk until she found the piece of wood.
Danny threw himself at Logan again and pushed him back into the pavement, laying a volley of punches into his chest and head. Logan tried to move, get out of the way, but the blows to his head and into his broken rib made it impossible to think.
Veronica forced herself to get to her feet, to ignore the throbbing welt on her head and the tiny rivulet of blood working its way slowly down her temple. She fixed her eyes on Danny Boyd, landing blow after blow into Logan. She let out a cry of fury and lifted the heavy block of wood in a sweeping arc, perfectly into the back of Danny's head.
He stopped punching Logan immediately, his whole body went completely limp and he slumped off to the side, tolling onto the asphalt. Veronica shoved the rest of him off of Logan and collapsed onto the ground beside him. She felt herself crying, but it was surreal. Logan coughed and let out a small whimper at the pain it caused his ribs.
Veronica lifted his head up gingerly and took it into her lap, stroking his hair, "Oh my god, Logan," she felt herself sob as she stared down into his too-familiar face that had already started to swell.
He looked up at her with one eye, the other swollen and bruising, "Piper…"
"Shh, shh, don't talk, just wait. There's an ambulance coming," she heard another car's brakes squeal and two doors slam shut. Veronica looked up and saw Keith and Piz staring at the building that was slowly becoming a mass of orange and yellow flames, "Dad!"
Keith turned to her and ran over, Piz followed close behind him. Keith crouched down and checked Logan's pulse, Danny's pulse, "Veronica, what happened? Where's Piper?"
"Still inside," Veronica's own voice seemed far away from her, she was stroking Logan's temples, tapping his cheeks to keep him from passing out.
Piz and Keith exchanged looks, Piz looked up at the burning façade, "Don't," Keith said, knowing in his heart how futile it was for him to say a word.
Piz was already running past patrons and employees alike huddled on the sidewalks coughing up smoke. He put his hands up and kicked open the door, shielding his eyes from the brightness of the fire and using his sleeves to breathe. He could barely see anything, think smoke had moved into the building like a storm, wild and static and burning his skin.
Finally, he reached a spot where it was less smoky, hadn't entirely caught fire. Piper stood in front of Liam with a gun aimed at his chest. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and he heard Liam laughing and saying the name, 'Angela', over and over again.
Piz took a cautious step towards her hand held out his hand, "Piper-"
She didn't look over at him, but he could hear the surprise in her voice, "How did you find me?"
"Smoke signals," he tried to joke, ease the tension in the room, the brutality. Blood was pouring down her arm and he watched her nurse her right leg, "Piper, put the gun down."
"I can't do that." Her voice was cold.
Nevertheless, Piz took a few slow steps towards her, his hand still outstretched for her, "Piper, put it down. This isn't how this goes down, you know that.
"This is the only way it goes down, Piz. Don't you get that?" he was close to her now, his fingers close enough to brush against her shoulder, "The only way he goes down is if I make him go down." Piper could hear the shakiness in her own voice as she said it.
"No, it's not the only way," Piz had placed a hand on her now, "Piper, don't do this. You don't want to do this. This isn't like the guys you've put away before, this is a vengeance shot," he waited a few moments, "If you take this shot, you're losing more than your job. You're doing more than avenging your sister, you're jeopardizing us all. You become a murderer if you pull that trigger."
Piper had tried to hold back tears, not let herself cry, but it was impossible with the heat and the smoke stinging her eyes. She felt Piz's hand rest on her wrist.
"I know you can make the shot, I know you can do this. But I don't think it's what you want," he was pushing her hand down, moving the barrel away from Liam, "You don't want this. Don't fool yourself into thinking you want this."
"He's killed so many of them," she said quietly.
"I know," Piz reached forwards and held onto her from the side, one arm around her lower back and the other still pushing the firearm away, "I know he has. You don't need to be like him, you don't need to find justice the way he does. You've worked for the FBI for how long, you know there's always a plan. Now is not the time for this plan," her arms went slack and he pulled her to him, keeping his eyes fixed on Liam, "You have to believe there's a plan. Vengeance killing is still killing."
Piper was crying into his shoulder now, taking deep, gasping breaths. She remembered the fire, the thick smoke, and coughed. She looked up and stopped herself from crying, peering behind Piz. A beam fell hard and fiery across the front door, Piz started coughing and followed her gaze.
Liam lay there on the ground, watching them helplessly. He had come to terms with his own death, this moment of watching it pass through his fingers had left him stunned. Not to mention he couldn't move very farm from his spot among the burning furniture of his once beloved family bar.
Piper looked at the back of the room and saw the rear entrance was open, the fire hadn't quite managed to engulf the back of The River Styx. She tried to put weight on her right leg and winced in pain, something had torn or fractured it was hard to say. Piz wrapped his arm under her shoulders and helped her hobble towards the back door as quickly as he could.
He turned back just for a second and saw Liam fumbling with something, a small pistol, aiming it directly at Piper's back.
"No!" Piz shouted and pulled Piper to the side. He felt hot, white pain shooting through his upper arm, as though the world moved in slow motion Piz watched the bullet slice through his upper arm and peel back the skin on its way out.
Piper's hands seemed to move through molasses, she raised the .45 and aimed it over Piz's shoulder. It was a reflex when she fired the shot into Liam Fitzpatrick's chest, it had no sign of vengeance and no boil of blood behind it. It was just her reaction to the gunshot she had heard. Either way, Liam fell back suddenly and heavily, Piper heard the skittering noise of a pistol sliding along the wood of the floors.
Neither of them stopped to check if he was alive, neither of them cared. Piz and Piper leaned on each other as they made their crippled way out the back door and into the night air, sour with the scent of smoke.
Piper made them walk farther out into the night, around the building and a ways away across the street. Finally, she and Piz dropped to the sidewalk together, his good arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and hers around his back to support him.
They said nothing, just watched the building start to crumble under the weight of the fire. The fire department showed up and began to try and hose it down, but even in them was a sense of defeat. They knew the building was lost, gone for good. Piper slumped her head against Piz's shoulder and stared into the building, something had lifted from her heart, some heavy weight that had been sitting there for far too long.
"Let's get you to an ambulance," she finally said, remembering Piz had taken a bullet to the arm. They braced themselves on one another and began to walk to the main street.
Veronica gripped Logan's hand tightly, letting herself cry freely. He gave her a tired smile from the gurney, waiting while the paramedics prepared the ambulance and continued to clear people to go home.
"Hey, don't cry," Logan said slowly, "Just a flesh wound." He said with a mock British accent.
She laughed through her tears despite herself and lifted her head to blink them away. Out of the darkness she saw Piz and Piper, limping, walking slowly towards the crowd. Veronica stared at them and Logan followed her eyes.
He squeezed her hand, "I'm not going anywhere."
Veronica let him go and ran towards them, using her hand to support Piz's elbow. His upper arm was bleeding profusely from what she assumed was a gunshot. There had been two in quick succession, Veronica had tried to push out the thought that it had not gone Piper's way. Apparently, one of those victims had been Piz.
The three of them said nothing, just hobbled to the ambulance where a paramedic grabbed a hold of Piz and let him to one of the cars. Piper sighed and slumped against the side of one of the trucks, Veronica stared at her.
Piper smiled slightly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to cause such a fuss."
Veronica grabbed her in a hard hug and squeezed her, "You could have died."
"I would have died if I did nothing, too. Catch twenty-two, you know," Piper hugged her back, "I'm sorry, Veronica."
Veronica shook her head, unable to talk through the tightness in her throat. Piper stroked her hair gently and laughed airily. Finally, Veronica moved away, "I'm just glad you're okay. I'm sorry I told you to give up."
"I brought this on myself, just maintaining the illusion of being a whirlwind of trouble," Piper let out a cry when she put pressure on her right him. Another paramedic came to collect her.
Keith hugged Veronica gently and nodded to Logan's ambulance, "Your chariot awaits."
"Thanks, dad," Veronica sighed.
"I'm just glad everyone's okay," Keith kissed her forehead and ushered her off to ride with Logan to the hospital.
He walked over and stood in front of Piper while they inspected her leg, "Colorful evening,"
"Same old, same old," Piper didn't look up to meet his gaze, she was embarrassed.
"You did what you thought you had to, I hope you know there's no shame in that," Keith patted her head.
Finally, Piper looked up at him and smiled weakly, "I should have left it alone."
"Hindsight is twenty-twenty."
The two of them watched the building, charred, smoking, billowing white and black steam. The flames had started to die down now, something inside crashed and the building seemed to waver under the stress. Piper sighed, content with the ashes the symbol of all her pain for so many years had become.