The chains that were clasped around his wrists were the only thing keeping Peter from falling to the ground. His body craved the feeling of falling against a cold floor. But he could feel the heat radiating from the ground. There was nothing cold in Hell. Nothing to soothe the pain of the fire. Nothing to bring light in the darkness. Nothing.
"Brother?" A familiar voice answered his calls and Peter slowly looked up. Teles stood there, looking down at him.
"T-Teles..." He said in a raspy yet relieved tone.
"I'm here, Peter. I'm right here." She said, kneeling down in front of him. Teles' voice always sounded beautiful and silky to Peter given what she was but now, her voice was beyond angelic. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Nor are we." Two more familiar voices rang out. Peter looked over to see the Doctor standing there and next to him, was Sam.
"Doctor... Sam... Save me..." He pleaded with them. None of the three responded. "Please... Take me home with you..."
Sam stepped forward, kneeling down in front of him. "Oh, Peter." She said, reaching out to touch his cheek. "You can't go home."
Peter had expected her touch to be cold and soft, to relieve the pain and burning. But when her hand made contact with his cheek, it was searing hot. Peter let out a scream and Sam began to laugh.
"You really are too easy too fool, Slayer." The Doctor said, his eyes turning black and a smirk breaking out on his lips.
"Honestly." Teles said with a sinister laugh, her eyes also black. "You fall for the same old trick everyday."
Sam still had her hand against Peter's cheek, burning his skin and laughing as he screamed and writhed against his chains. "It's true." She said, pulling away. "So gullible." As she laughed, her eyes also turned colors. But instead of black, they were white.
"No..." Peter whimpered, beginning to cry again. "Please... Leave me be..."
"No can do." Sam said, pulling out a carving knife. "Time for some more fun." She said, nodding her head to the others. Teles grabbed a whip from the wall and the Doctor grabbed a handful of small needles. "Let's have at him, guys." Sam said, moving closer with the others to begin Peter's torture.
-----
Peter woke up from his nightmare with a start. His whole body was shaking and his sheets were practically drenched with sweat. He looked over and saw that Sam was still sleeping soundly. He did his best to crawl out of bed without disturbing her. He went into the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on his face for a few minutes.
Afterwards, he went out into the living room and stared out the window at the bright lights of Vegas. He considered grabbing a bottle of whatever alcohol he had and downing it but he that even that wouldn't dull the memory of being in Hell. Nothing would ever dull the memory. His hand absently ran over the scar on his stomach where the vampire had landed its killing blow to Peter.
He wished it would've never happened. He wished he could forget it all. He wished more than anything to stop being so afraid to sleep at night with the worry of dreaming about his sentence in Hell. He wished he didn't have to worry about being alive just being another one of the demons' torture sessions. He fell to his knees, covering his face in his hands as the tears formed in his eyes.
Everything was pitch black. Not even the brightest light could pierce the darkness. Peter was trapped with no escape. He screamed and called out for someone to save him. But his cries only echoed in the void he found himself in. He ran for miles and miles but never reached any destination. He was truly lost.
Then, a sharp pain hit his chest and he cried out. What the fuck? He thought, clutching at his heart. It hit again and he doubled over. Curling up on the ground and panting heavily, he shut his eyes tightly and wondered what new torture this was. The pain didn't stop and he soon started writhing. "S-Sam! D-Doctor!" He called out as if they would here him. But, they wouldn't. His last thought before losing consciousness was how was alone for eternity.
He woke with a sharp gasp. But when he opened his eyes, there was no darkness. It was bright. Almost too bright. His vision was blurry but he tried to see where he was. When his eyes adjusted, he saw himself looking out the window at the sun shining over Las Vegas. "...What?" He said, sitting up.
He was at his penthouse, lying in his bed. How could this happen? He had died. He felt the life leave him. Why was he here? How was he alive? He didn't understand. He had so many questions. He got up and looked around, thinking that this was a fantasy.
But it wasn't. It was real. Everything was real. He was alive.
