13 Survivor's Guilt

Peter started to make his way back to the outskirts of town. He was not running this time, he chose to take the scenic route back, wondering if Selene and Elliot had made it back yet. It was still early morning, so he imagined he would be fine. Though, what did he know about the schedule of a vampire? The air was warming a bit, but the autumn chill still nipped at his skin. Leaves swept through the streets from nearby trees.

It was surreal being back home after being gone for months. He longed to see his parents, who he imagined still lived in the same house. He wondered how they had felt the fallout of his fugitive state. He imagined if he tried to contact them before this was cleared would put them in danger. He longed for his soft bed, the sanctity of his bedroom. He wanted his life back.

He wanted to see Jess's parents. He wanted to apologize, to tell them he would do anything to atone for what he had done. He thought about turning himself in several times in the past few months but knew he would be locked in a psych ward for not remembering murdering his girlfriend. He thought about ways he could make it up to the Peytons, but everything he could come up with was not good enough.

It was a month ago he figured out the best way to make it up to them was to find the truth. He needed help.

It was a chance meeting that led him to Elliot Carson. He was in Albany, resting at a diner he planned on running from as soon as he finished his getting real food in his stomach. He received the bill for his meal, he took a cursory look at it and found it had been paid for already. With the paid bill, the waitress was told to give Peter a card, but the stranger who paid for his meal had already left when Peter asked.

The scent on that card led him to New York City, where he inquired about further. He found the hotel where Elliot was staying easily enough. It was a matter of staking out the place for a few days before making his move. Elliot Carson is not an easy person to miss. Peter picked him out on the first night staking out the hotel. Peter waited a few days, inquiring whoever he could about the mysterious "Mister Carson" who was staying in the hotel.

Now he was back in Salem, supposedly confined to his room at a quaint bed and breakfast. He was supposed to wait while Elliot and Selene worked to find the memory he was missing. He was too restless for that.

He was halfway back to the bed and breakfast when he stopped in his tracks. A powerful scent hit his nose. It was familiar, like a wet dog but muddled by human musk. He turned toward where the wind was blowing, feeling it whip at his face. He scanned the wooded area he found himself in.

He had to do a double-take when he saw them. Two red eyes watching him from a few rows of trees back. Peter's eyes narrowed. He could make out the outline of the beast watching him. It looked like a wolf, at least in the face, though it looked bigger than Peter. He felt his heart pound against his chest. He turned to run, as fast as he could. He could only hope he was faster than the beast.

Peter ran until he could no longer smell the beast behind him. When he finally looked around, he recognized he was almost back to the Bed and Breakfast. He scanned the area around him, looking for any sign of the beast watching him. He did not see it but did not trust it was not still tracking him.

Peter sniffed the air again, trying to find the scent of his tracker. Finding nothing, he made his way to the Bed and Breakfast. He hopped the wrought-iron fence, looked up to see his still-open window. The leap to the window was easy enough. He grasped the windowsill and pulled himself through. He brushed himself off, started to pull off his hoodie, and noticed he was not alone in the room.

Selene sat on the bed in the room. Her arms and legs were crossed, her foot tapped the air repeatedly. Her face was stern as she looked at Peter, who threw his hoodie toward the antique dresser.

"Save it," Peter said. He looked away from Selene.

"I told you to stay here," Selene said.

Peter shook his head. "Yeah, you did."

"Where were you?"

"Walking."

"Walking where?"

Peter turned to her. "What do you care?"

"I care because we are trying to help you. Trying to keep you safe, Peter," Selene stood, her arms still crossed. "We cannot do that if you are galivanting around town."

"What if I can help you?" Peter asked. "If I could just remember what happened…"

"Did you?"

The new voice made Peter spin around toward the door. He did not hear the door open or shut, but Elliot Carson was leaning against the wall. The bags under his eyes were growing and getting darker. His skin was pale and sickly. His face was expressionless, waiting for a response.

"I-I…" Peter breathed a heavy sigh. "No, I didn't."

Elliot nodded. "Where did you go?"

"Derby Wharf, where I…I…"

"Were you killed Jessica Peyton," Elliot finished.

"Elliot!" Selene hissed.

Elliot's piercing gaze never left Peter. "He needs to hear it. He needs to remember what happened."

"What else is there?" Peter said his voice breaking. "I killed her as you said."

"But you don't remember killing her," Elliot said. "She was alive, then she was dead."

"Nobody else was there," Peter mumbled. "Who else could have?"

"Anyone," Elliot said, shrugging his shoulders. "There is a gap of time missing, where anything could have happened. We do not know how long that time period is, we do not know what happened. Until that time period is accounted for, we cannot rule out the possibility of you as the murderer, and we also cannot rule out the possibility of another arriving at the scene."

"Peter," Selene cut in, "Have you ever considered the possibility of anything else happening?"

Peter shook his head but said nothing.

"Why not?" She asked. She sat back down on the bed. "Would you, in your right mind, ever hurt Jessica – Jess?"

Peter again shook his head.

"If that is the case, what makes you believe, so wholeheartedly, you would harm her in your unconscious mind? Have you thought of the possibility that you were protecting her, perhaps?"

Peter stared at her, his mind racing. He had relived what he remembered of that morning over and over the past few months and he had come to the same conclusion every time. He had been so sure he had been the one to kill her. There was no other way he could fit together the pieces.

"There is still no definitive conclusion, Peter," Elliot said. "However, I will add, if there was a definitive conclusion to your issue, I would not have taken the case. Your case intrigued me enough to investigate. That is no easy feat."

Peter looked to the floor now, his mind trying to come to terms with this new information. After a minute, he nodded.

Elliot nodded. "Now, if you excuse me, I will take my leave. I need a drink." Again, Peter did not hear a sound. He looked up and Elliot was gone, just as fast as he had arrived. He turned to Selene, who gave him a kind smile, a stark difference from the stern look he had received upon arrival.

"Get some rest, Peter," Selene stood to put a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder. She was several inches taller than Peter, but she made him feel small. "And try not to leave the room unless we tell you to, please."

Peter nodded, "I promise." Selene nodded and made her way toward the room. She had just opened the door when something stirred in Peter. "Selene, when he says a drink?"

Selene paused and turned to him. She chuckled. "Both." With that, she was gone, and Peter was alone again. But for the first time in months, he fell asleep within moments.