Chapter Text
Those who see death’s true face are captivated. They either go willingly into her embrace or are trapped like prey, unable to escape her gaze. Some manage to elude her for a time but no one can outrun her forever.
Part 1: Meeting Death
The first time Peter sees her was in the deepest, darkest stretch of forest when he was 8 years old. Instead of staying behind with his aunt and younger siblings on the night of the full moon, he followed his eldest brother out into the forest where the sounds of prowling wolves reached him from time to time as the pack ran and hunted while their power was at its strongest. A stray scent crossed their paths, causing Mark to tear after it with a snarl as his bloodlust peaked with the moon’s shining fullness.
Ever adept at staying out of sight and following at a distance, Peter went unnoticed by the hulking form stalking its prey in the light of the moon. He could not help but feel invincible with its radiant glow on his skin. He stopped to drink it all in while every sense amplified into sharp focus. His anchor had always been the moon itself, ever changing but constant in it’s change. His was an unrequited love, bittersweet and lonely and ever unreachable. He could chase her forever but could never convince her to be more generous with the power she gave him.
Mark’s howl broke through his thoughts. Weaving through the trees more like a snake than the wolf that was his birthright, he came upon a small clearing accented by several large boulders. The sharp tang of blood hit him before he saw the hunter sprawled on the ground. His brother clearly hadn’t wasted any time dispatching his foe before moving on to rendezvous with the rest of the pack. Peter was drawn into the clearing by the broken man’s stuttering heartbeat and gurgling breaths but a strange presence halted his movement. He shifted back behind one of the hulking rocks as a hooded figure melted out of the dark to kneel in front of the dying man whose heartbeat tripled its effort to beat right out of the wound in his chest. The dark figure reached out a steady hand to lightly touch the man’s shoulder, stilling him instantly. The hunter’s heart stopped as his breath left him and his scent changed abruptly to the pungent finality of death; it was the same smell cancer patients carry as their illness draws death ever closer.
A breeze coursed through the clearing, pulling at the robes of the black figure until its hood fell away revealing silvery moonlit hair and what most would describe as the face of an angel. In that moment, her radiance captivated him body and soul and Peter forgot about the moon entirely. She looked up to the sky, then, as if to blame it for blowing off her hood. In one fluid motion she rose to her feet, gracefully drawing her hood up over her head to block away all her beauty.
Peter felt the loss of it immediately. He came out of his crouch behind the boulder just as she melted back into the shadows. Her mastery of the darkness was too great. He could not follow this loveliness, this great lady, this… angel of death.
He felt a shift under his own skin as he knelt to the ground where she last stood. He fought to control his wolf, throwing his gaze up to the moon. A tear fell from his eye as he realized the moon was no longer his anchor. For when he closed his eyes, he saw the face of death… and it was the moon of his life.
-
He did not see her for several years, though he chased her in his dreams. There were a few times he thought he felt her near, just to smell death on another. There was never a moment when he wasn't missing her. He kept to the shadows in an attempt to be near her. His obsession changed him. His mind was always on her and how he could see her again. The only conclusion he could see was to orchestrate a death and be nearby when she appeared. Nothing could stand in his way of seeing her again and eventually he convinced himself that every opportunity should not be wasted.
And so, after waiting 10 more years (as the wolf lives), he saw her again; this time in a storm shelter under the great tree. His nephew clutched the body of a dying girl in a tangle of roots lit by the moonlight as it peeked in from the holes above his head. Derek had eyes for no one but his Paige as he attempted to take her pain. Peter lay in wait as the girl started to lose her battle with the bite Ennis had given her.
Then she appeared as his dear nephew and his girl exchanged their parting words of love. Death hovered out of sight of the lovers, reaching out one porcelain finger to release Paige of her pain and life. As she did so, she lay a gentle hand on Derek’s bowed head, he gasped out a sob, blinking as his eyes cooled from amber to steel-blue.
A ray of moonlight passed over Death’s face for a brief moment as she shook her head over this sadness. She closed her eyes and drew back into the darkness once more.
...and once more Peter felt the elation of seeing his love, stagnate as the wrenching pain of her absence fell back into place.
-
He glimpsed her many times over the next few years, following his instincts near enough to carnage but never close enough to be in danger himself. It all seemed to be in vein, though, for never did her hood fall away to reveal her again. He ached to see her, to talk to her, to… well it didn’t matter if she was never anywhere for more than a moment.
One night, she lingered far longer than a moment.
The fire raged unholy carnage all over the Hale home that night. The mountain ash barrier held in all who were inside, dooming them to their fates. Their screams pierced the air as the heat seared and ripped through everything.
That night, she came. The flames did not touch her. She floated from person to person, relieving them of their suffering lives. She paused as she drew near to Peter. He was the last left alive, being the farthest from the flames. Her hood fell away as she considered him. The moment he saw her face, his pain melted away. All that existed was her radiant gaze. Those eyes that reach into one’s soul and determine your fate. His determination flared. He was not going to die that day. He lived only for her.
She drew back her hand, inches from taking his life, closing her eyes and nodding as she backed away. He attempted to reach out to her as she faded away into the shadows cast by the roaring blaze of his home. He keened his loss through an ash choked throat before slipping into oblivion.
-
Life was a haze. A dense fog surrounded his every memory. He chased shadows around in dreams. Time was lost to him.
-
Slowly, life came back to him. Memories slid (more or less) into place until his determination came back to him. He needed to see her again… and it seemed convenient that there were people that needed to be dead.
-
His strength returned very slowly. At first only the full pull of a full moon could grant him the strength to move. When the moon withdrew it’s power, so did the bindings that held together his thoughts. He faded in and out till madness overtook him. He was blind to all except his drive to gain power in order to carry out vengeance. He was sure he would be rewarded for his role as Death’s Fury by seeing her again.