Sorry this chapter is a month late; as I've told the readers of Lost In Camelot and Demon's Games, my top-priority fic is finally nearing its end (less than ten chapters left!) so I've found myself spending even more time on it than usual. Once it's finished, I hope to settle into a writing schedule that will allow me to update my remaining stories more often, and on a more consistent basis.

Chapter 7: The Search

5 days earlier

Elle and Edward's quest to recover Peter's remains took them to New York as well, but of course they traveled much more purposefully than Bella and therefore reached the city several days before her. Their first stop was the hospital where she had spent her last weeks as a human; the two vampires had hoped to find some clue as to who had brought her in, but unfortunately any useful scents they might have been able to pick up were long gone, as was the security camera footage from that night. The nurses and orderlies who'd been on call when she arrived were still there but, even though one would think an inexplicably brain dead patient would be rather memorable, their recollections of how she came to be in their care were strangely fuzzy. As far as they could tell, she'd simply appeared out of thin air in the emergency room.

"So either someone teleported her in," Edward surmised, "or else-"

"The Haitian erased their memories," Elle finished. "And if he was here, I bet he also knows where Peter's ashes ended up, or knows who does. Looks like we'll be paying my old colleague a visit."

She started to stride purposefully from the hospital, but Edward, alarmed by the menacing edge in her voice, caught her arm and pulled her back. "You aren't intending to harm this man, are you?"

"Now why would I want to do that? I mean, it's not like he spent years erasing my memories of being used as a guinea pig and permanently warped my brain or anything!"

"Yes, terrible things were done to you, but you've had your revenge," Edward insisted, refusing to back down even though he could practically feel her heated stare scorching him. "Remember, it was your father who gave the orders; the Haitian likely had no more choice in the matter than you did."

With a sigh, Elle snuffed out the sparks flickering at her fingertips. "Yeah, you're right. Okay, I won't hurt him unless he decides to be stubborn."

###

The Haitian was on high alert the second he stepped inside his Hartsdale apartment - there were no obvious signs of a break-in and everything was exactly as he'd left it, yet there was something, some disturbance in the atmosphere, that told him something was amiss - but by then it was already too late. The door clicked shut behind him, and he spun around to find the vampire Elle had taken up with standing there, blocking his only exit.

Then a throat was cleared behind him, causing him to turn around again, and there stood Elle herself, her skin sparkling faintly in a shaft of late afternoon sunlight that streamed in through the living room window. "Hey, you," she chirped in the same teasing, almost flirtatious tone he remembered her using during her days as an agent of Primatech, usually when interacting with targets or prisoners - in short, anyone she thought she could toy with. "Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

"Elle..."

Her playful facade abruptly fell away, her golden eyes opening wide in shock. "You can talk?! Did you just learn how, or could you always do it?" At his nod, her expression changed to one of indignation. "And every time we worked together, you let me chatter away to myself like an idiot!"

"Well, you never seemed to mind carrying on both sides of the conversation. In fact, you seemed to prefer it that way. Elle, I'm so sorry..."

She took his heartfelt apology with a shrug. "I guess I can forgive you for not wanting to talk to me; apparently my people skills needed some work." Her eyes narrowed. "Or do you mean you're sorry for all the times you wiped my memory?"

The Haitian hung his head, unable to meet her accusing stare. "What your father did to you was unconscionable, and you cannot know how deeply I regret my part in it."

Elle glowered at him for another moment, before finally relenting when her mate came over and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "It's fine - water under the bridge, or whatever. I'm all better now, thanks to Edward."

"Better?" The Haitian shook his head sadly. "He's turned you into a demon-"

"Demon?!" Her eyebrows shot up and her voice rose in outrage, but before she could react to the insult, Edward tightened his grip, drawing her attention to him.

"It's all right, love," he murmured. "Many of the world's older cultures have a rather superstitious view of us." In his more pessimistic moments, he had occasionally wondered if they might be right.

"And now you've done the same to the Swan girl, haven't you?" the Haitian continued, now glaring accusingly at her.

"Are you saying I should've left her a vegetable and let her skin rot off, like those kids in Cabin Fever?"

"It would have been better if you had let her die a natural death."

"What we should or should not have done regarding Bella is neither here nor there now," Edward interjected, seeing that their exchange was on the verge of degenerating into a pointless existential debate. "We're here about Peter Petrelli. We know you were there when Bella was taken to the hospital, but what was done with his remains?"

"Why are you asking me this?" He turned to Elle. "You know the Company's procedure for storing or disposing of hazardous materials."

"Actually, I never paid much attention to that stuff. I figured that's what the scientists were for."

"You're lying," Edward said abruptly, fixing the Haitian with a piercing stare. "Or at least you're withholding something. You hesitated before speaking - so briefly that a human probably wouldn't have noticed; you're quite skilled at deception, I'll grant you that - and your answer was nothing more than an attempt at deflection. What are you trying to hide from us?" When the other man gave no indication that he intended to respond, Edward added, "One way or another, you will tell us what we need to know; it would be better for you if you do so willingly, before Elle becomes impatient. She has a tendency to be a bit...overzealous when it comes to extracting information, as I'm sure you know."

The Haitian's dark eyes darted appraisingly - and somewhat apprehensively - toward the blonde. He was well-acquainted with her sadistic streak, and despite her claims of being 'all better' now, he suspected her transformation had only made her more vicious. Still, neither she nor her companion had shown any sign of aggression so far, which gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance of surviving this encounter if he managed not to antagonize them. It wasn't that he feared death, exactly, but he would prefer not to spend his final hours as Elle's plaything.

"Peter regenerated after the explosion," he revealed, the words pouring out in a rush. "He was the one who brought Bella Swan to the hospital, where Linderman captured him. He was a prisoner on Level Five until his escape almost two weeks ago."

"He's alive?" The words sent a jolt through Elle as if she'd fallen victim to her own ability, but her distrustful side reasserted itself almost immediately. Closing the short distance between herself and her former coworker in a flash, she seized the collar of his shirt and dragged him down so that their noses were nearly touching. "You're just telling us what you think we want to hear, aren't you? If it's been that long since Peter escaped, why hasn't anybody heard from him? There's no way he just forgot to let his family know he's okay, or Bella..." Her voice trailed off as she remembered who she was talking to. "...Unless someone made him forget."

With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the Haitian over and slammed him down onto his coffee table with enough force to turn his back into one giant bruise, pinning him in place by planting her boot on his chest. "Is that what you did, you bastard? You must've erased a hell of a lot to make him vanish like this!"

"Elle..." Once again, Edward tried to step in and placate her, but this time she wasn't having it.

"Don't 'Elle' me, Edward! I know you didn't want me to hurt him, but I'm not the one you should be lecturing here; I'm not the one who goes around stealing bits and pieces of peoples' lives whenever I feel like it!" Turning back to her captive, she snarled, "Tell me what you did with Peter!"

When he just stared defiantly at her, having realized there was no way she would leave him alive now that her predatory instincts were aroused, she shifted her weight, putting just enough pressure on his chest to cause him some discomfort but not to interfere with his breathing, not yet. Knowing what was coming if he remained silent, the Haitian spat, "I will tell you nothing! I sent Peter away so he could live his life free from the influence of those who wish to use his powers for their own ends, and from creatures like you. If you're going to kill me, get it over with."

She scowled down at him for a moment, leaning forward until she felt his ribcage start to give under the stress, heard the first faint crunching of bone...then she suddenly withdrew, placing her foot back on the floor. Edward watched her warily; with the Haitian suppressing his telepathy, he couldn't hear what she was thinking, but he recognized the calculating look in her eyes, and he knew her well enough to guess that whatever scheme was taking shape in her head would probably spell trouble.

Her next words proved him right. "Oh, I'm not gonna kill you - I've got something much better in mind. You think us vampires are evil creatures of darkness, right?" The Haitian refused to give her any outward response, but the look of revulsion in his eyes was all the confirmation she needed. A triumphant smirk formed on her lips. "So I'm guessing you'd really, really hate to be one. You know all that stuff from the movies about exchanging blood is crap, don't you? We don't even have blood, only venom, and all it takes to turn somebody is just...one...bite."

Opening her mouth wide, she leaned in slowly, giving him plenty of time to see her teeth getting closer and closer and contemplate what awaited him if they pierced his skin. Edward held his breath as he watched the spectacle unfold; he was fairly certain she was bluffing, but how far would she take it? Having been unconscious throughout her own conversion, she had no memory of the agony a vampire's venom caused as it seared through its victim's veins; Edward, on the other hand, remembered it vividly, and he was not going to let her inflict that torture on anyone merely for the sake of loosening their tongue. Maybe the man in question did deserve some form of punishment for his past misdeeds, but not this.

Even as he readied himself to spring forward and drag her away, however, he hoped his intervention wouldn't be necessary; for the first time, he saw genuine fear in the Haitian's eyes as they fastened on Elle's teeth, and just before her lips brushed his throat, he cried out, "Stop! The night of his escape, I chased Peter into a shipping yard, where I encouraged him to put Bella Swan out of his mind and make a fresh start elsewhere. When he refused, I wiped his memory and locked him in one of the containers."

"Which was headed where?" Elle demanded, having pulled back enough that she could look him in the eye again.

The Haitian shook his head. "I don't know, but it was an international dock."

"So he could be anywhere in the world by now?!"

"It'll be easy enough to find out where those containers were sent," Edward pointed out. "We just need to take a look at the shipping company's records. Come on, we've learned all we can here." He held out his hand.

Elle hesitated, her gaze flicking back and forth between the Haitian, who was now staring up at the ceiling in silent prayer, and Edward's outstretched hand; then, with a slight shake of her head, she took it and let him lead her out of the apartment.

###

A few hours (and a minor breaking-and-entering escapade) later, they learned that the transport company had been preparing a shipment of electronics bound for Ireland at the time the Haitian claimed to have sent Peter on an unplanned vacation.

"Well, I guess it could be worse," Elle sighed as she threw down a folder full of shipping manifests. "Ireland's just an island, right?"

"It's an island, yes," Edward agreed, already thinking ahead to how they would get there. "I'll need a day or two to arrange our transportation - we won't need a very large plane, or maybe even a helicopter will do for only three passengers..."

Elle perked up at the thought of not having to deal with crowded airports and nosy TSA agents. "I thought you were joking about doing that next time we had to fly somewhere."

"Hardly. With any luck, experiencing private air travel will cure you of your aversion to flying, and then perhaps we can consider destinations outside the United States whenever you feel the need for a change of scenery."

"I don't know; I've never been much of a globetrotter. I mean, even if Daddy would've let me, why would I want to go somewhere I don't speak the language, where there's all kinds of foreign bugs and diseases just waiting to kill me? I heard Australia has spiders big enough to fit over your face."

"Well, you don't need to worry about those anymore," Edward pointed out. "I know it can be difficult to step out of your comfort zone at first, especially for someone who prefers to be in control, but there are so many things out there that are worth seeing and doing, and there's no one I'd rather share it with than you. I just need you to trust me."

"You know I do." Putting the files back where she'd found them, she turned around and gave him her best earnest, sincere look. "All right, let's go find Peter, and then you can whisk me off to whatever crazy place you want." As he drew her in for a kiss, she added, "But you don't have to take me halfway around the world to open my eyes or anything. You've already done that."

Cork, Ireland

As he sat in Caitlin's car, staring across the street at a gambling establishment which happened to be the target of a robbery he was about to participate in, Peter found himself wondering, How the hell did I get here? Am I really going through with this?

The first question was easy to answer - he was here because Caitlin's brother Ricky had taken everything he'd had in his possession when the gang found him and threatened to destroy it unless Peter helped them carry out this 'job'. He had considered refusing and just taking his belongings back whether Ricky liked it or not, which wasn't quite as crazy as it sounded; during his time as Ricky's prisoner, Peter had discovered that he also possessed some unusual abilities, which had come in handy when members of a rival gang broke in and attacked Caitlin. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet figured out how to use those abilities at will, and he couldn't risk a failed attempt which might only serve to antagonize his captors. He needed that box.

He still couldn't remember anything about his previous life, not even the girl whose name had somehow stuck in his memory after everything else was ripped away, but she was never out of his thoughts for long, and somehow he knew it was vital that he get back to her as soon as possible, which meant he needed to find out where he came from...and in that, he supposed he had the answer to his second question as well. He just hoped that when he saw Bella again, she wouldn't be too angry with him.

"It's time," Caitlin announced, breaking the tense silence that had enveloped them after they left the pub. "Be careful, Peter."

With a quick nod to her, he got out of the car and approached the guards who were waiting to take charge of a lockbox full of cash, the proceeds from bets on the night's soccer game. He pretended to want a refund after betting on the losing team; predictably, they told him to get lost, but before they could make good on their threat to use their weapons if he didn't leave immediately, Ricky, Will, and Tuko came up from behind, disarmed them, and zip-tied their hands behind their backs.

Peter hustled them out of the way, ordered them to stay down, then turned back to see if there was anything more he needed to do...only to find the three gangsters, plus the man who'd just wheeled the lockbox out of the building, lying in a heap on the ground, like dolls that had been tossed aside after a careless child finished playing with them. A petite blonde girl stood over them, wearing a self-satisfied smirk; impossible as it seemed, he could only assume this was her doing.

Caitlin emerged from her car, shouting her brother's name, but a spine-chilling growl from the blonde stopped her in her tracks. "Get back in the car, lady, or I'll make your hair a lot curlier!"

"Just do it," Peter urged as Caitlin stood there gaping at the girl. "I'll deal with her." He just hoped his strange gifts would come through again, because something told him he would need every advantage he could get against this girl who had managed to knock out four grown men in less than a minute. To his immense relief, lightning burst from his fingertips, slicing through the air toward her...

...Until she blocked it with a lightning bolt of her own. The two bolts met in midair, raining sparks down on the pavement before quickly fizzling out. "Trying to use my own power against me, Peter?" The blonde clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Now that's just rude."

Intrigued, he edged closer even as his instincts warned him not to let his guard down just yet. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Elle - I'm here to take you home."

"Why should I trust you?"

She blinked up at him as if surprised by the question. "What, you'd rather stay here and rob bookies?"

"That wasn't my idea," Peter defended himself, though he didn't know why he should care about her opinion of him. "Those guys took everything that might tell me who I am, and I had to help them to get it back."

"Well, I can tell you who you are; you don't need them anymore," Elle said dismissively. "I guess we can go get your stuff if you really want it, or we can just get you a new driver's license or whatever. Now come on, let's get out of here." She could tell he was still skeptical, though, and began surreptitiously gathering a fresh charge in the hand hidden behind her back, just in case he decided to be difficult. Better keep it low-voltage, she reminded herself. Bella won't like it if I get too rough with him.

Peter had indeed intended to be difficult, but hearing that name in her thoughts - which had to be what had happened, because he was standing right in front of her and could see, even in the shadows, that her lips hadn't moved - instantly put him in a more compliant frame of mind. "Bella? You know her?" He didn't want to get his hopes up too much in case this was some kind of trick...but the girl seemed to know him, so it stood to reason that she would know the people close to him as well.

"Of course I know Bella - we're like this." Elle held up crossed fingers, apparently not at all perturbed that he had just read her mind, but then her expression turned suspicious. "The question is, how do you know Bella? I thought your memory was wiped."

"It was; when I woke up in this cargo container a few days ago, I couldn't remember anything, except that one name. I don't have any idea who Bella is, or how I knew her..."

Sensing that he was fishing for information, Elle decided to provide some in the interest of winning him over. "She was your...confidante, I guess. Or maybe 'sidekick' is a better word."

"Oh, is that all?" Having imagined their relationship to be somewhat more intimate than that, he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

"Well, you wanted to be more than friends, but you were afraid to tell her. Maybe you can do that when you see her again," Elle suggested with a sly grin. "I can take you to her right now."

Peter still hesitated, but only for a second; even though this girl was undoubtedly dangerous, there was nothing to indicate that she was lying or meant him any harm (apart from the fact that she'd been prepared to knock him out if he didn't go with her willingly, and if she was telling the truth about taking him home, he was willing to overlook that). "All right, let's go."

As they started down the street, Caitlin jumped out of her car again and called out, "Peter! Where are you going?!"

Elle growled softly, obviously annoyed at the interruption, but Peter told her to wait a minute before jogging over to where Caitlin stood. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about ditching her brother and his gang, but she had always been kind to him. "I'm going home. This girl knows who I am, and she offered to take me back; I can't pass that up. I have to go."

Caitlin bit her lip, clearly unhappy about him leaving with someone who'd hurt her brother, but seemed to realize that his mind was made up. "Well, good luck. Take care of yourself."

"You too - and watch out for Will. Turns out reading minds is another weird thing I can do, and I know I heard him thinking he wants to take all the money for himself."

Caitlin still looked dubious, but at least he'd warned her. He said goodbye to her, then hurried back to Elle, who shot him an irritated look as they continued on their way. "Do you really have to stop and help every damsel in distress and lost puppy you meet?"

"Caitlin was the closest thing to a friend I had here," he replied curtly. "What's your rush?"

"Maybe I just want to go home." She began walking faster, but even as Peter increased his pace to keep up, she could still feel his eyes on her. Sighing, she turned her head just enough to meet his gaze. "Look, it's been a while since you dropped off the face of the earth, so everyone back home kinda thinks you're dead, and Bella's not too happy about it - specifically, she's not too happy with me. I did something... I thought I was helping, but things didn't work out like they were supposed to, so I'm hoping bringing you back to her will fix it."

Her words spawned a hundred more questions in Peter's mind, but he doubted he would get a chance to ask any of them; Elle's eyes were facing firmly forward once more, and her face had taken on a closed-off look that told him the conversation was over. Resigning himself to waiting a little longer for answers, he pushed his curiosity aside and followed her in silence.

###

When they reached the airport where the helicopter that would take them home had just been refuelled, however, and Elle introduced her boyfriend, Edward Cullen, who appeared to be her only traveling companion, Peter felt compelled to ask at least one pressing question. "Where's the pilot?"

Elle pressed herself against Edward, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "You're looking at him."

Peter found this hard to believe, since the kid in front of him didn't look old enough to fly anything except the type of plane that came with a remote control. "Uh...no offense, but are you sure that's a good idea?"

Fortunately, Edward didn't seem at all offended. "I assure you, I'm quite capable. Would you like to see my pilot's license?"

"Is it real?"

"Of course it's real," Edward said patiently (conveniently leaving out the part about how the ID he'd used to obtain it was not). A sardonic smile formed on his lips as he added, "I'm older than I look."

"Look," Elle chimed in when Peter still appeared unconvinced, "we made it here without crashing into the ocean, didn't we?"

Unable to argue with that, he boarded the chopper without further protests.

"We have several hours' flight ahead of us," Edward informed him as he checked the instrument panel before taking off. "You might as well get some rest while you can; we'll have to work out how to recover your memories once we land, and then I expect you'll want to see your family."

"Yeah, I'm sure I will."

Edward and Elle, who was seated up front with him, then began talking quietly amongst themselves, their voices so low that Peter couldn't make out what they were saying over the whir of the blades. Realizing that neither of them were inclined to talk to him at the moment, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, though he doubted he would be able to sleep with everything that was running through his mind. He must have managed it, however, because the next thing he knew, they were back on the ground and Edward was telling him that they had reached their destination.

Climbing out of the helicopter, Peter was greeted by the sight of a pitch-black night sky, against which he could just barely make out the shapes of mountain peaks surrounding them on all sides. Even though the meadow where they stood was relatively flat, he guessed they must already be at a fairly high altitude, since the air felt thinner than what he was accustomed to. "Where are we?"

"Colorado," Elle said brightly. She pointed to the silhouette of a large house, situated at the far end of the gently upward-sloping meadow, which provided the only illumination other than the faint starlight. "That's Casa de Cullen - one of them anyway."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get us closer," Edward apologized when he noticed Peter staring at the distant house with some trepidation. "This was the only place flat enough for a smooth landing, but I'm certain you can handle a hike of a mere mile."

Peter, on the other hand, had his misgivings, though not so much about whether he could make it to the house as what he might find when he got there. What kind of people, he wondered, would choose to live in such an isolated and inaccessible place, where you could probably go a hundred miles in every direction without meeting another living soul?