Sorry for delays in updates.

The only thing I will say about the Gerard and Mikey scenes is that avatarjk137 wrote them. So sorry if they're sad. He had been waiting to do the scenes with those four for a while.

Sorel is stupid. Ha ha.

And I hear there was a wedding! Oh, those crazy kids and their Jessica Simpson maids of honor and their adorable bulldog ring bearers!

Dead On Arrival: Part Five

Patrick panted as he continued his slow crawl towards the harpoon gun. He knew his injury was somewhat serious, but he had no idea how much effort he would have had to put into this. It was bad enough that shock and adrenaline from earlier had long since worn off, making the wound legitimately quite painful, but he had to crawl uphill on rocky ground.

Sweat dripped down his face. He tried to stand his upper body up to look around and see how Pete was doing, but when he rose, a little bit of blood made a hideous tiny spurt of out his wound. He let out a yelp of pain and dropped back towards the ground.

Letting Pete take care of it crossed his mind.

Pete's strong.

Biting his lip, Patrick began moving again. But not strong enough.

--

"Yah…yah… hiyah!" Joe spun and kicked at Gerard multiple times, but he dodged or blocked every strike. On the last kick, he grabbed Joe by the ankle and hurled him to the ground, then jumped at him with a slash. Joe evaded Gerard's wide attack, and rolled to his feet, dropping a few canisters as he did. The canisters began to leak out a yellow smoke, which Gerard sniffed as he stepped into it.

"It's not garlic," he growled. "Too colorful to be holy water. Not thick enough to keep me from seeing the stake coming. I give up…" he picked up a canister, "what kind of vampire-fighting equipment is this?"

"It's not for vampires," Joe replied as he searched his pockets for something other than a stake (he already had one ready in his other hand. "It's just generally for fighting… I found it in the VFBI's van… ah! Here we go!" He proudly held up a single match, which he struck against the stake's rough surface. "Make a wish!" He tossed the match into the smoke and jumped back.

Gerard swore and teleported away just as the match reached the smoke, causing it to ignite in a bright blue explosion. He appeared twenty feet away, but a burning canister flew through the air and its flames touched the fumes coming from the canister he still held. This resulted in a second, smaller explosion that blew Gerard off his feet, where he landed near Joe.

Joe had been a tiny bit too close to the explosion; his face and afro were covered in soot and he was patting out the smoldering right sleeve of his jacket. "Okay, one canister at a time from now on." He looked at Gerard and smiled mockingly. "I hope it was your birthday, because that's the last surprise present you're getting from me."

--

Pete's bottom lip throbbed in time with his heart. He had suffered fewer hits than Sorel but each hit he took had more strength.

This was hard.

"How disappointing. Wavering on your feet already?" Sorel teased.

"I'm fine. Worry about yourself, you're bleeding more than I am."

Sorel spat out a mouthful of blood. "I don't mind a little blood."

Pete didn't respond. He stood a ways away, panting, trying to think up his next move. After generally exchanging blows for about ten minutes, he was grateful he was a vampire (a rare occurrence) because he was getting tired despite that.

Sorel laughed, trying to seem in control, but it came out sounding more bitter than jovial to Pete, even standing back. "Tell you what. I've been pestered by persistent little you for so long, that you deserve a little reward. How about I give you a grand finale?"

"No thanks!" Pete ignored a slightly heavy feeling in his feet as he charged forward to Sorel.

"Haven't you learned by now that charging doesn't work?!" Sorel took out his sword. "Charge into this!" He sliced at Pete, but Pete dodged and grabbed the handle and Sorel's shoulder. "Get off, you stupid…" He tried to pull the handle away, but only succeeding in scraping Pete's sneakers across the powdery dirt on the dry ground. He tugged as hard he could and tried to kick Pete's chest to get him off, but to no avail. The sneering vampire tugged again, and the handle stretched.

--

"J-just… kidding?" Mikey mumbled in disbelief.

"Just kidding?" Andrew frowned and tapped the sword. "Patrick, what possessed you to put a fake self-destruct in my sword?"

"JUST KIDDING?!" Mikey asked again, but this time it was actually more of a roar. "I nearly wet myself! I'll kill you!" He pointed his sword at Andy, and squeezed the hidden trigger. A bullet erupted out of the barrel (which was concealed in the sword's blunt side) and missed Andrew's shoulder by an inch. Mumbling about the blade throwing the aim off, Mikey spun the sword by its handle once, which seemed to re-cock it.

Andy ducked behind a twisted, gnarled tree as Mikey hastily aimed and fired again. The bullet left a groove in the side of the tree and split a few hairs on Andy's head as it flew past him, causing him to bite his tongue so hard it started bleeding. "Ow! Dammit!" Andy yelped.

"Ooh, did I get you?" Mikey asked excitedly. "You're still talking… I'd better really aim this time." As he spun the blade in his hand again, Andy jumped out from behind the tree and ran at Mikey, swinging both rapiers frantically in front of him.

Please try to block… Andy hoped as he bum-rushed his opponent. Instead Mikey grunted in surprise and hastily shot at Andy. There was a bang, a loud PING! and Andrew's left hand was jerked back, followed closely by a girly scream. Andy stopped moving, trying to figure out if he had been the one screaming. Nope. The sparks coming from his now-bent trick rapier, and the fact that Mikey was on the ground clutching his bleeding leg, told a different story: "Hey! I deflected a bullet! How awesome is that?" Andrew bragged.

"Silver… bullet… in my knee…" Mikey gasped. "Please assist!"

"Hmm… looks serious," Andrew said cockily as he sauntered up to Mikey's struggling form. "And you say it's self-inflicted? I'm afraid there's nothing to do but make the patient comfortable." He pulled the rapier back to make the final thrust.

"No, please!" Mikey squeezed his eyes shut. "Gerard and I… we didn't want to do this! We didn't want to attack you guys again, we didn't care about revenge or anything, but Sorel wouldn't hear any of it! Please, just leave us be, we just want to live in peace!"

"Um…" Andy bit his lip. "Dunno how to tell you this… I've already impaled you."

"What?" Mikey looked down at the handle sticking out of his chest. His hands and feet were already blowing away in the wind. "You sure you can't… un-stake me or take it back somehow?"

Andy pulled his sword out. "I… don't think it works that way," he said uncomfortably.

"Oh…" Mikey blinked back tears. "I guess I kind of deserved it anyway…" and then Mikey was gone.

--

"WHAT THE… What the hell did you do to my sword?!"

Pete's hands were glowing. "The handle sure is cheap, whatever it is…" He looked proud as he stated the obvious, "I totally melted it."

"RAHHH!" Sorel twisted away from him and clutched his shoulder in pain. Pete had well since burnt through his jacket. "I had no idea you… you little…!" He paused to breathe heavily and glare at Pete as he seemed to be thinking what he could call him. Suddenly, he smirked. "You little… Baron." He tried to hold in his laugh. "Every day. More and more and more like him." He snickered and then went into full-blown hysterics as Pete stared at him blankly. "It's so ironic! You killed him and have been working so hard to become human again, only to become more and more like him on the journey! Oh, pure gold!" He fell back onto his butt, and tried to curb his laughter (and failed).

Pete had nothing to say. The situation was funny, indeed… he felt funny. His breath was starting to come in a different rhythm and he felt a slight, weird nausea along with something in his throat- OH SHIT. I'm going to cry.

As if Sorel could read minds (but Pete really didn't know anymore, maybe he could!), he stared at Pete with his grin still present. "WHAT on EARTH are you looking at? ... Are… are you going to cry over there?!" Now this, this just seemed hilarious to him. "Awwww, did I make the widdle Baron cry?! Does he need a little bottle of blood? Does he need his friends to burp him and tell him everything is going to be okay? Awww… why don't you go ask your friend Patrick over there - who I bet is in quite a bad state, thank you very much – for some tissues, I'm sure he specially carries them for Petey Panda and-"

"STOP IT!!" Pete tackled/charged/fell on Sorel and pinned his arms to the ground. "Shut up, you don't know anything!! You shouldn't even be talking! I hate you!" He flailed his fists around Sorel's head rapidly and caught him more than a few times.

--

Gerard watched as Mikey faded away into nothingness. "Mikey? Mikey?"

"Hey, come on, we're fighting over here," Joe snapped. "You should have known Mikey wouldn't hold up against Andy, he's just not a skilled swordsman. He used that friggin' Morningstar up until a few months ago. Dude?"

"YYYYAAAAUUUURRRRRGGGHHH!!" Gerard screamed like a wounded beast and fell to his knees without warning, his claws gouging into his face, his scalp, his sides… he was tearing into himself like his blood was on fire and he wanted it out of his body. He collapsed to the ground and began shaking and rolling around like a man possessed.

"What'd you do to him?" Andy asked, walking up a bit nervously.

"That was all you. You killed his brother in front of him."

"Yeah, that jerk made me look like the bad guy at the end!"

"I know, right? These guys have been trying to kill us for months, and they brought a whole regiment of motorcycle-riding elite vampires to try and do us in! So we finally get to killing off the last of them – still in self-defense, mind you – and suddenly we're vilified?"

"Since when do you use words like vilified?"

"Beats me," Joe said with a shrug. "I must've picked it up from Screamy McClawshimself over there. He's a real know-it-all when he isn't getting pissed off about me killing those close to him."

"Aren't you worried that'll happen now?"

"We'll be fine."

"YOU…" they turned. Gerard was slowly climbing to his feet in his half-wolf form, although his voice was even more guttural than that form's usual. Blood dripped down his lupine face and seeped down the sides of his uniform. Breath came short and ragged over long, gracefully curved fangs at the end of a bloodied muzzle. "You two have killed all those close to me… and when I'm through, hell will seem a sweet relief to you."

"You can't beat us!" Andy protested, getting down into a fighting stance (he had put away his bent trick rapier, relying solely on his silver rapier). "You couldn't beat us before, and besides, we outnumber you now!"

"Famous last words…" Gerard snarled. He disappeared and reappeared behind Andrew, who blocked Gerard's claws with his sword. Gerard bit down on Andy's blade (causing his lips to smoke from the silver) and began slashing at his chest. Andy was caught by surprise, and took several shallow cuts as he tried to pull his sword out of Gerard's jaws. Gerard wouldn't let go, and finally Andy had to drop his blade as he staggered back. Gerard spat the sword out, and teleported behind the now-unarmed vigilante.

"Andy!" Joe leapt for Gerard, but he grabbed Andy and teleported again, reappearing nearly thirty feet in the air. He pushed Andy away in mid-air, slashed him in the back once, twice, three times, and kicked him to the ground. "Crap, Andy!" Joe threw a stake at Gerard as he fell, but the mad wolf teleported again, reappearing right above Joe and slamming him to the ground.

"You should have run… you should have NEVER allowed us to find you…" There were tears in Gerard's eyes. "Now this place will your burial ground, stained forever with blood and sin." He opened his jaws and prepared to tear Joe's throat open, but Joe shoved a gas canister in Gerard's jaws lengthwise, locking them open. He slammed a stake into the canister as hard as he could, piercing it and filling Gerard's mouth with the yellow smoke. Gerard rolled off Joe, coughing, and Joe managed to stagger away.

"Match, match, damnit, I need a match!"

"Got it…" Andy mumbled from the ground. He was bleeding badly, and his left arm looked broken where he had landed on it, but he had pulled out his bent trick rapier with his right and was fumbling with the controls. "If… just find… a lighter… FOUND IT!" the crooked tip of the sword was issuing a thin jet of translucent flame. "You love your brother so much… go see him!" He tossed the rapier, but fell short of his target, only managing to reach Gerard's feet with the rapier. Luckily, Gerard chose that moment to finally spit out the canister… right onto the flame. The resulting explosion engulfed Sorel's last remaining henchman. "Finally," Andy sighed.

"You'll have to do better than that…" Gerard walked steadily out of the burning cloud, although he looked somewhat the worse for wear. His clothing and fur were burning, and patches of exposed, charred muscle tissue were visible on his arms and chest where the flames had burnt away everything above. He pulled his head back into the air and let loose a long, mournful howl, and then teleported, reappearing above Andy where he lay on his chest in the dirt. Snarling, he stomped the deep slash marks in Andrew's back, causing him to let out a choked cry and pass out.

"DAMMIT, LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Joe threw a stake, but again, Gerard teleported out of the way. He burst back into existence right in front of Joe and drove an elbow into his gut. Joe staggered back, then jumped forward again with a haymaker punch, but Gerard dropped to the ground and simultaneously 'ported, landing behind Joe on all fours. Before Joe could turn, Gerard lashed out with both claws and slashed Joe's calves. "Ugh!" Gerard warped away again, and Joe's legs wobbled, before giving out entirely. Joe swore as he fell to his hands and knees; his tendons were slashed.

"Poor, poor Joe," Gerard snarled. "Just sheep who've been playing with wolves, that's what you and your friends are. You've made a valiant effort, but when it comes right down to it, humans can't stand up to vampires in a pitched battle. I can see it in your eyes… you don't have the strength! You don't have the speed, or the ruthlessness, or the sheer force of will!" He grabbed Joe by the neck and lifted him back up to his shaking feet. With his other claw, he slashed and backslashed Joe's face. "And one more thing you don't have… another stake to fight back with."

SHUNK. "Actually, I do," Joe said, pushing it deeper into Gerard's heart. "I've been working on my poker face." He pushed Gerard away and managed to stay standing on his own. "What you have is about three seconds to make your peace."

Gerard roared and vanished. Joe felt a rush of air behind him, and tried to turn, but his legs wouldn't respond… "I'll take you to my GRAVE!" He felt the dusty ghost of a claw pass through the base of his skull. If Gerard had taken a half-second longer to disintegrate, Joe would've had his spine severed.

--

Having had enough of getting hit repeatedly, Sorel shot out and smacked him hard upside the head, then threw him off to the side onto his stomach. Pete growled in frustration and curled his arms and legs up to his body.

Sorel smirked and quickly walked away. Once he was a fair bit away, he began a somewhat sluggish telekinetic process – he started creating deep slices in the dusty earth around the curled up little ball that was Pete, until he created a circle with a diameter of about twelve feet. With a deep breath, he began the hard part – lifting the mound up. Shit. How deep did I cut it? Quite deep, quite deep. Come on, come on, little by little… He used his mind to slowly lift the mound, inch by inch… inch by inch… little by little… Soon he had it fully out of the ground. A full minute later and much straining later, he had it ten feet up in the air. Just the mound of dirt, that is-

Pete kicked him in the face. He went sliding a few feet to the right. Dirt rained on him.

"Ha ha."

Sorel snarled and slowly pushed himself and turned to give Pete the nastiest look he could manage. He was surprised to see Pete with a peculiar, blank look on his face instead of the triumphant smirk he was expecting to see. "What are you looking at, fool?!"

"…Uhn…" Pete closed his eyes and flopped to the ground as his legs gave out from under him.