#peter benson

“You know, some of these stars could be dead right now. I love how we can still see their light even after they’re gone.” Maisie finds herself sitting on the outcrop of roof outside of Harper’s room, one of her favorite memories playing out in her dreams once again.

Maisie hums in agreement. “I guess humans are kind of like stars too. Even after they’re gone, they don’t really leave us. We can still see them everywhere in our lives. The things they did for us.” Maisie’s eyes become misty as she speaks, thinking of her late foster mother, Laelynn. Harper is silent for a beat, then she suddenly gets up and climbs through the window back into her room. Maisie can hear her rummaging around until she reappears through the window.

“Well, this was supposed to be for your birthday, but Mom wasn’t supposed to die… So, I think you should have it now.” Harper hands Maisie a small, round, white box with a bright yellow bow on top. It almost looked like a daisy, Maisie’s favorite flower. Maisie tugs on the bow lightly and it falls away. When she opens the box, her breath catches.

It’s a simple gold, circular pendant made to look like a compass. She turns it over, already knowing the coordinates that are engraved there by heart. The coordinates to the Harvelle’s Roadhouse, or rather where it used to stand before it was blasted to ruins by demons.

Maisie has been waiting on this gift for years. Harper and Jo had gotten identical ones, passed down by their moms. And now Maisie has Laelynn’s. Picking the necklace from the box, she merely lets it set in her hand at first, trying to feel all the history it held. She swears, if only for a second, she could feel Laelynn with her.

Maisie hands the necklace to Harper and turns her back so her sister can secure it for her. Once it’s in place, Maisie knows she’ll never take it off.

“Thank you, Harp.” Maisie pulls her sister in for a hug and doesn’t let go. 

Maisie wakes with a start, confusion mixed with grogginess making her head pound. She slowly takes in her surroundings, wondering how she got to her old room in California. She doesn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing she remembers is telling her dad where to find Momma Q.

Maisie tries to get to her feet, but has to lean on her bedpost for support. Her eyes are still heavy and her limbs feel burdensome. Suddenly, a man's loud, angry voice makes her flinch. It almost sounds like her dad, but she has never heard him raise his voice.

Making it to the door, she slowly pulls it open and shuffles down the hall towards the voices in the living room. She can now hear another, weaker voice, but there is a short bald-headed dude and a wiry woman with wild auburn hair, blocking her view.

“You’ll pay for what you took from me,” the first voice says, but this time it’s a quiet anger, his words coming out in a low growl.

“I’ll pay with my life if I have to. But you leave my daughters out of it.” Maisie realizes with a start, that the second voice is Momma Q. Her head throbs painfully as she tries to put the pieces together of what’s happening, but what Peter says next makes her heart stop.

“Maybe I could have left Harper out of it if she could have minded her own goddamn business! But I took care of her. I would have gotten rid of that little redhead too if it weren’t for that bitch of a witch I had to deal with. In the end, you are all that really stands in the way of an eternity with my daughter.” Maisie breaks from her shocked trance, when she realizes Momma Q is now gasping for breath. She reaches for her knife, but it isn’t there. All she can do is try to talk her father down.

Maisie rushes forward, breaking through the barrier of the two vampires. The sight of her only living mother fighting for her life at the hands of her father makes Maisie sick to her stomach.

“Dad, stop! Please,” Maisie begs, her voice cracking. She runs forward, trying to pry her father’s fingers away from around Momma Q’s neck. The two vampire lackeys suddenly seem to remember their job, and surge forward to restrain Maisie.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean for you to see this. In time, you will understand. And we will have more than enough time.” Peter turns back to Quincy, a sick smile playing on his lips as he tightens his grip. Quincy’s movements become less volatile, her strength giving out.

Maisie pulls and kicks against the vampires restraining her, but she has no leverage to pull free. She screams for her mother until her voice is hoarse, even after Quincy’s arms drop and her legs stop thrashing. Peter bares his fangs, and Maisie has to squeeze her eyes shut before he plunges them into Quincy’s neck, draining the last drops of life from her body.

Maisie hears Momma Q’s body thud to the ground, but it sounds far off. Her captors finally release their hold on her and she simply crumples to the floor. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She doesn’t want to see her dead mother’s body that she knows is only inches away from her. Silent tears stream down her face. Only one thought ricochets in her mind until she loses all consciousness.

“It’s all my fault.”

As Philip sets the plane down without so much as a bump, Harper breathes a sigh of relief. “Hey, we didn’t die in a tragic, fiery plane crash. Not that I doubted you, Phillip, because apparently you can do everything,” she quips, trying to distract herself from the anxiety their current situation has caused.

“The less you know about me, the better.” Phillip returns coolly.

“Okay, that’s not ominous at all. Thanks for the ride, daa- dude. Da dude. It’s surfer talk, we’re in California now, gotta blend in.” Harper flimsily tries to recover from the fact that she almost called Philip dad. There’s an awkward silence before Simone pipes up.

“Um, evil vampire on the loose with your kidnapped sister ring a bell?” Everyone nods in agreement and starts to file out of the small plane. Harper brings up the rear, but before she starts down the steps, Phillip calls her name.

“Yeah?” Harper looks back at him expectantly. He stands up and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Just be careful, kid. Call me when you’re ready to bring Maisie home,” Phillip says.

“You are always there when we call, huh?” Harper muses.

“Well, what can I say? You’d get yourself killed if I didn’t. As an officer of the law, I can’t have people dying on my watch if I can help it. Especially if it’s family.” Harper is surprised to hear Phillip say something so heartfelt, even if his face still portrays no emotion. “Alright, dismissed,” Phillip pats her shoulder and heads back to the cockpit. Taking a deep breath, Harper puts on a brave face.

“Sir, yes, sir.” She mocks a salute before heading after the rest of the group.

First things first, Harper needs to make sure they are on the right track. She pulls out her phone and tries Momma Q. No answer. Next, she calls the facility where Momma Q stays. When they tell her that Quincy has been checked out by a man claiming to be their uncle, Harper is oddly calm. It is close enough to the answer she was expecting.

“What did they say?” Sam asks as soon as she hangs up. She simply shakes her head.

“Uncle Peter took her for a trip,” Harper spits his name out like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

“Where would he take her?” Dean asks gruffly. Harper gives him a look that says ‘lose the attitude or I’ll kick your ass’.

“Oh yeah, I just forgot to mention the detailed notes on his plans I found in his diary.” Harper sasses back in annoyance. Sam steps between them, hands out to keep them at bay.

“Guys, now is not the time! We’re all worried about Maisie, but it’s not going to help her if we’re at each other’s throats.” Sam looks between them and makes sure they nod their agreement before he stands down.

“We can start at our family home. I don’t know that we’ll find anything but it’s a better place to think than this dirty airport parking lot at six in the morning. We need a ride, though.” As soon as Harper finishes her thought, Simone pulls up in a little red Ford Escort.

“Get in, losers,” Simone calls out through the open window. Sam and Dean eye the car skeptically.

“You couldn’t have stolen anything bigger?” Dean whines.

“It’s inconspicuous,” Simone shoots back. “And I thought it would be funny to see you and Sam trying to squeeze in the backseat,” she adds with a shrug. Dean rolls his eyes so hard he gives himself a headache. Sam turns to Harper, hoping she will save them from Simone’s pettiness.

“I call shotgun,” is all Harper says, opening the door and moving the seat up for the boys. “You wanna waste our time hotwiring another car?” Harper questions expectantly. The boys grumble assent to her point and fold themselves into the limited space of the backseat.

Sitting on her old bed, Maisie stares blankly at the wall; her thoughts and feelings ground to a halt when Momma Q’s body hit the carpet of her childhood home. The world around her faded away, feeling unreal and dream-like. At least, she hopes this is another dream, but the stirring in her gut tells her it’s all too real.

Peter pushes open the door, his posture more lighthearted than usual, unsympathetic to his daughter’s distress. The vampire watching over Maisie leaves the room at Peter’s command.

“Sorry you had to see that sweetheart. I thought my underlings would have kept a better eye on you,” Peter says, a slight edge to his voice, but it perks up as he continues. “Oh well, what’s done is done.” He pauses, gauging Maisie’s reaction, but she doesn’t even look at him.  “I hoped you would see this from my perspective, Maisie.”

“And what perspective is that?” Maisie means to come off spiteful, but the words fall flat and defeated.

Peter sits down next to Maisie, trying to catch her eye as he props his elbow on his knee and gestures with his other hand as he speaks. “She took you from me, all those years ago. And I’ve been looking for you every day since. Quincy, she would have done the same all again just to protect you from me, your own father.”

When Maisie doesn’t respond again, Peter sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Everything I’ve done is because I didn’t want to lose you again.”

“What about Harper?” Maisie finds her anger again. He may be able to justify to himself why he did this to Quincy, but not her sister. Harper didn’t steal her away; they simply had each other’s backs throughout the years. “What did she do to deserve…” Her voice trails off, as does the anger, at the thought of what had become of her sister.

Peter sighs dramatically, as if her questions are nothing but a nuisance. “She would have stopped me too, sweetheart. She didn’t understand the vision.”

That piques Maisie’s interest, and her curiosity gets the best of her. “The vision?”

Peter’s eyes twinkle as he responds, “The vision that’s kept me going all these years. Eternity with my daughter.”

The sky is starting to lighten as Simone parks their little car around the corner from the house, out of direct view. Everyone hops out, and walks down the road to catch a glimpse of the house. A few vampires linger outside, keeping an eye on the street and surrounding homes for anything suspicious. The group takes a step back to stay out of sight while they figure out a plan.

“So, who has ideas?” Sam asks, glancing to his brother and the girls.

“Let’s walk in, guns blazing,” Dean offers, looking restless, but Harper immediately shakes her head. “Well, machetes blazing.”

“And draw a shit ton of attention to the house? No, we’ve gotta do this quietly.” Harper stares off into the distance, clenching and unclenching her fists as she thinks. “I’ll sneak in, and pull Maisie out.”

Sam shakes his head fervently. “You’re not going in alone.”

Harper frowns at him. “I know how to sneak into this house, I did it a million times growing up.”

“Yeah, but like Peter said earlier, your sneaking skills suck, Harp.” Simone responds honestly.

“Really? Now we’re bringing this up?” Harper throws her a frustrated glance. Simone shrugs as if to say ‘sure, why not.’

Dean looks to Harper, slightly confused. “Did he really say that?”

“Basically,” Simone says before Harper can get a word in.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, we don’t have time for this,” Harper mumbles her thoughts out loud. “I’m going in, whether you like it or not. I made this mess, and I’m going to get my sister out of it.”

“You didn’t make anything, Peter did.” Sam interjects. “At least let someone go with you.”

“No, there’s more risk if anyone else goes. I’ve got this, okay?” Harper’s voice softens toward the end. “Just let me do this,” she says; there’s a pleading tone to her voice as she stares Sam down.

His shoulders slump. “Fine,” he sighs out.

“If something goes wrong, we’ll go with Dean’s idea, sound good?” Harper sounds matter-of-fact about it, as if ‘wrong’ couldn’t really be that bad. Dean and Simone nod, but Sam hesitates. Harper reciprocates the gesture before turning toward the house and her sister.

Sam’s hand wraps around hers when they are a few feet away from Dean and Simone. “For the record, I hate this,” he says with a half-hearted smile as she turns back to him.

Harper gives him a little smirk. “I know, but I’ll be back with Maisie soon enough.”

There’s a silence as Sam looks away for a moment, still holding her hand in his. Harper impatiently glances to the house, not wishing to wait another second.

“Relax, I’ll be back before you know it,” she says, giving him a forced smile.

“Just let her go already,” Simone talks a little louder so the couple can hear her. Harper cracks a smile in her direction before looking to Sam again.

“Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” she nudges him jokingly, slipping her hand out of his, and heads toward her childhood home to save her sister and fix this mess.

Harper peers around the corner to catch a glimpse of her old house; it is across the road and a few houses down from her vantage point. An idea pops into Harper’s head, and she cringes, knowing it’s the best way. Stripping off her jacket, she throws it back at Sam, standing by Dean and Simone now.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks in confusion as Sam catches it.

“I’m going jogging,” Harper shrugs before taking off down the street at a reasonable pace. She passes in front of her childhood home, feeling the gaze of the vampires keeping watch, but she keeps her eyes forward. There’s only two of them, one of them sitting on the steps of the front porch, the other sitting on the porch swing, trying to look casual.

Once she’s made it around the bend of the road to the neighbors house, she slows to a stop, hiding behind a row of tall bushes along the front yard. Rounding the neighbor’s house, Harper sneaks through their backyard and notices another vampire patrolling the back of her childhood home. She ducks behind another bush, watching as the vampire walks toward her and into the alley between the two houses.

Harper sees her opportunity, quickly and quietly walking up behind the vampire, machete in hand. She hefts the machete at his neck, slicing off his head. The body thumps softly as it hits the grass. She quickly grabs the body and head, dragging them behind the house to keep them out of sight.

Harper then crouches low as she softly pads over to the back of her childhood home and peeks into the window of Maisie old room. Maisie is on her bed and a short, Charlie Brown looking vampire, is at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Harper takes a deep breath to steel herself, pulling her machete back out from its sheath before knocking softly on the window. She presses herself against the side of the house, waiting for the vampire to pop his head out. Her heart hammers in her chest, as the window slowly slides up and open.

The vampire’s bald head pops out of the window and Harper brings her machete down, cleanly severing his head from his body. She awkwardly hops through the window, shoving the body out of the way as she goes.

“Hey,” Harper says lamely as her feet hit the carpet. Maisie stares in disbelief at Harper standing before her, alive and well. She jumps to her feet, surprise giving way to her need to hug her sister and to know she hasn’t lost everything. As soon as she takes a step toward Harper, though, Maisie can smell her. The scent is so strong it overcomes all other emotions or senses. Maisie can feel the hunger building, and fear grips her heart.

Instead of welcoming Harper into her arms, she suddenly pushes her away. The force of Maisie’s shove surprises Harper almost more than the action itself, sending her across the room and crashing into the door. Grabbing onto the door handle to pull herself up, Harper tries to shake off the pain and confusion.

“Maisie? What the fuck was that?” Harper demands. Maisie looks at her shaking hands in shock.

“I- He turned me. Harp, I’m becoming a vampire,” Maisie chokes out, wrapping her arms around her torso. She can’t look at Harper, not wanting to see how her sister looks at her now.  

Harper holds her breath, waiting for something to give. She’s going to wake up any minute. Or Maisie is going to smile and say it’s only a joke. It can’t be real.

Without even realizing she’s taken it out, Harper is pressing her phone to her ear. It rings once before Sam’s voice rings out in her ear. It takes her a minute to find her voice.

“Sam?” She says quietly. She’s not even sure what to say.

“Harper, what is it? You ready for backup?” Sam asks desperately.

“Peter… H- he changed Maisie into a- a, um, and I don’t know what to do, tell me what to do,” Harper chokes out, eyes flying around the room.

“Has she drank human blood yet?” Sam asks, trying to keep himself level-headed for Harper’s sake.

Harper looks to her sister, relaying the question, and Maisie shakes her head. “No, she hasn’t,” Harper answers into the phone, unable to look away from Maisie.

“Okay, that’s good. She hasn’t fully transitioned then. Dean and I can make a cure, but we need the blood of the vampire who turned her, so Peter’s, right?”

“Yeah,” Harper breathes out.

“We’re coming, hold tight. Tell Maisie it’s going to be okay. It is going to be okay, Harper,” Sam’s calm voice evens her breathing. She believes him.

“Okay. It’s going to be okay, Maisie,” Harper repeats, trying to keep Sam’s calm in her own voice as she tries to help Maisie believe it too.

Maisie finally looks up to meet her sisters earnest gaze. In a split second, Harper’s head is turned at an odd angle, and there is a strange crunching sound. Time seems to slow as Maisie watches Harper’s body fall lifelessly to the ground.

“Sometimes, you have to do things yourself,” Peter’s voice cuts through Maisie’s haze. Suddenly, time speeds up to the point that Maisie no longer registers her actions. She is consumed by a blind rage, and she cannot be stopped.

When the world comes back into focus, she is standing in the living room, over her decapitated father, blood on her hands. She looks up at sound of Sam, Dean, and Simone bursting through the front door.

Sam yells Harper’s name as he runs through the house, while Dean heads straight to Maisie. Simone lingers over Peter’s body for a moment, nodding grimly, before following after Sam.

Stopping abruptly in the doorway to Maisie’s old room, Sam’s eyes immediately falling to Harper, crumpled and broken on the ground. Simone brings a hand up to cover her mouth as she gasps in horror. She had seen so much death, but this… This was something she was not expecting.

“Harper?” Sam’s voice barely comes out above a whisper. “Harper, please don’t do this to me,” he breathes out, as he falls to his knees beside her and rolls Harper onto her back. He pushes the hair gently away from her face, hoping and praying to see some sign of life in her. The sinking feeling in his gut tells him there isn’t any hope.

Harper’s eyes are open, but the empty, lifeless stare strips away any shred of denial and false hope that Sam was holding onto. Tears fill his eyes as he pulls Harper into his arms, cradling her limp form close to himself. She feels heavier than usual, the weight of the situation slowly crushing down on him.

He stares down at her through his tears, realizing there won’t be a tomorrow with her. He won’t hold her in his arms, or feel the warmth of her touch again. She won’t be beside him when he wakes up every morning. There will be a constant empty space where she used to be, that no one else could ever fill. Sam lets out one sob after another as he clings to Harper, wishing he could talk to her one more time, to hear her voice wash over him.

Dean finds Maisie in the hallway staring blankly down at Peter’s severed head. He takes her face in his hands and tries to draw her attention.

“Maisie? Baby, are you okay?” Maisie sees the movement of Dean’s lips, but no words connect with her mind. The sound of blood rushing in her ears is deafening. Not her blood, though. Dean’s blood. The machete she hadn’t even realized she was holding clatters to the floor as she pushes away from Dean. She must have grabbed the machete Harper brought in with her to go after Peter.

Harper; Maisie’s stomach lurches as she remembers the last sight of her sister. Stumbling down the hallway, she can now here Sam’s cries. Seeing Sam crumpled on the floor, cradling her sister’s body to him like she is the only thing he can feel, stops Maisie at the door like an iron fist had clamped down on her feet. The tears come faster than her breathing. She wants to go to them, to hold onto Harper. She wants to go back in time, tell Harper she is right and never let Peter back into her life.