Fallen Angels ((UNEDITED))

Chapter Five

"Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads"
Snow Patrol, Eyes Open
"Chasing Cars"

Jack yawned, rolling over in his bed. He didn't know how late he'd slept but figured he was fine, which was incorrect. Unsure if Peter was awake yet, he looked at the clock at his bedside, almost ten. Damnit. Jack, you dumbass, we needed to be leave by now! Jack thought, scolding himself. He quickly jumped out of bed, there's just not enough time in the day to scold myself. Jack added to his thought as he quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a grey shirt.

"Peter! We're late!" He shouted as he shrugged on his leather jacket. Peter groaned in response then looked at the clock.

"Oh crap, you're right." He muttered at he climbed off of the uncomfortable couch and got changed in a short three minutes. He hadn't slept more than four hours and was even more tired than before, but that didn't seem to bother him. The two quickly walked out of the room, each carrying their duffle bag. Jack tossed the room key to the man who had been at the lobby last night.

"All yours." Jack called back as he left the motel. Peter climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep, Jack in the driver's. Looking out the window, Peter's mind drifted from what was going on around him, the world turning into a blur.

You know, this is a funny world we live in, Peter. The words Jack had told him were running through his head, even though Jack had been slightly drunk when he'd said it, it still made some sense. There's so many stereotypes that you can't tell real from fake, fake from real, whatever you want to call it. For instance you and your wings, Peter, you're a freak! But that's just a stereotype, because I think you're great, but that may be a stereotype too, I don't know... Peter, don't beat yourself up for being different. Because being different is better than being stereotypical.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jack could say some beautiful things and other days he could simply say something like: "potatoes suck" or "its okay, I'm going to hell anyways." He made better sense when drunk, sometimes, than when he was sober. The words "Peter you're a freak!" Kept running through his head, even though he knew Jack hadn't meant it.

Peter, you're a freak.

Peter, you're a freak.

Peter,

You're

a

Freak.

Jack looked over at Peter, he had become pale, as though something was wrong or if he had eaten something that left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Peter, are you okay?" With a gulp, Peter nodded, but he wasn't very reassuring. He gave a weak smile, and Jack shook his head. He didn't believe Peter and ignored his attempt at shrugging it off; he still looked pretty sickly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Peter said after Jack had shook his head. Jack shook his head again, he couldn't believe him.

"I don't believe you. Is it something I did when I was drunk?" Peter looked up. For the love of god can that man read my mind? Peter thought with a confused look.

"Possibly." Peter replied and said the word slowly.

"Oh, well, sorry. Let's forget what I did when drunk. I most likely wasn't thinking straight." Peter nodded, but his mind was still wrapped around the thought. I know I'm a freak. Jack just has the decency not to tell me that when he's thinking straight. Even when he's drunk he knows I'm a freak. Maybe I should just turn myself over to the bad guys. Or whoever they are. Peter thought sadly as he looked back out the window with a sullen look.

"No!" Jack said sounding quite exasperated, but also snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

"What?!" Peter practically yelled, startled.

"We've got visitors." Jack snapped in reply, his knuckles whiting as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Where are we?" Peter asked as he looked around, confused.

"A rest stop but that's not the main problem."

"Who's our so called visitors?" Peter asked, slightly nervous because he already knew who they were.

"I think you know who we're running from? Yeah, it's them." Peter shook his head, he didn't have the slightest clue as to what they were to do. He'd done training for stuff like this and knew what to do but it just took a different turn when it was in reality and not some stupid training session. In real life it could change in an instant. It didn't stay the same for the whole deal. In fact it could change just as it started. Having a plan didn't help any when the plan could be easily screwed over.

"What are we going to do?" Jack sat in the Jeep Wrangler, looking at Peter for a short moment, he was deciding what they would do, and it wasn't a decision he wanted to make. He didn't want to fight but saw no other option. It was the only logical thing he could think of... and it wasn't very logical at all.

"We fight back. I'll go for the bigger people, you go for the ones you think you can take, okay? I don't want you to take on anyone you don't think you can. We don't need to get screwed over. But if it takes a turn for the worse, you run. You get out of here. Run as far as you can. You understand that?" Peter nodded vigorously. As nervous as he was to get into a quarrel with the people who were chasing them, Peter had to admit he was slightly excited. He'd fought many times and he liked the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins thick as his blood. Still, it felt like the first time every time he fought. Something he just wouldn't get over.

"Yeah, I got it." Peter said after a short moment of silence, he leaned over the seat and climbed into the back of the car, he then extracted his Bow and arrows from the back. It was a fine longbow (though it was mostly obsolete compared to the other more advanced types of bows) it was very good and in wonderful condition. He had been given it as a present on one of his birthdays, but he hadn't used it because he didn't like the idea of using weaponry at the time. But now, it made sense to use it more than it made sense to go to school. It had never seen a battle or had killed a human. But now, it would. He slipped the quiver across his back and slung the bow over his shoulder.

"I'll be okay, don't worry about me, Jack." Peter said as he started wrapping his wrists with ace bandages to strengthen them and protect his wrist from shooting the bow. Jack looked at him with a sad look on his face.

"I know you will."

With that he stepped out of the car.