| Heroes Fic: 6e |
[Apr. 27th, 2007|04:17 am] |
For ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) skripka on her birthday and because she likes wrong things and I love her for it.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: R
Warning: Suggestions of character death, AU, evil Nathan and Peter, spoilers through .07%
Summary: It’s like Peter has been waiting his whole life for this, for Nathan to just finally let go.
Day 1:
Nathan wakes up and the world is different. Or rather, he’s different. It’s an epiphany of sorts, or maybe it’s the opposite of an epiphany, whatever that may be, because epiphanies are supposed to make everything clear, and what Nathan has realized is just how murky and dark things really are.
Nathan refuses to think that his whole life has been a lie because it’s a clichéd thought and he’s done with being predictable and doing the expected. He’s done making the hard choices and he’s done being the responsible one. He’s done making pointless sacrifices.
Instead, he thinks about games and how before, it hadn’t even been that he was losing; he hadn’t even been playing the right game. He’d been playing Candyland while all the grown-ups were playing chess, but he’s done with that. He finally understands what the game is and he’s playing to win.
Last night, instead of sleep there had been a list of everything that made him angry. 1st on the list were people who lied to him. 2nd were all the secrets no one had bothered to share. 3rd were people who thought they could treat him like a puppet. 4th was the stain on his favorite pair of pants. 5th was the feeling of helplessness that had been building for the past six months. 6th was Peter. 6a was the way Peter never listened to him. 6b was the way Peter kept on trying to get himself killed. 6c was anyone who had ever tried to hurt Peter. 6d was the fact that he was getting used to seeing Peter covered in blood. 6e was Peter dead. And there the list stopped because nothing mattered after that.
This morning, the list doesn’t matter because now there’s a plan. It’s like some part of his brain had been working on it all along, just waiting for the rest of him to catch up.
It’s a good plan, pragmatic and concise. It’s not the plan of some sort of maniacal, super-villain. There are no missiles attached to sharks’ heads, no secret military bases, nothing remotely having to do with robots, and no plans for world domination. Domination is such an ugly word, anyway. It brings to mind whips and chains and forcing people to do things against their will. Nathan never needs to force anyone to do anything; he is so much better than that.
Nathan doesn’t worry about the possibility that he’s gone crazy, He doesn’t consider that maybe the strain has been too much and he’s snapped. Nathan Petrelli does not have psychotic breaks. Nathan has far too much practice being in control to ever let his brain start misbehaving. It’s simply that he has reached the point where enough is enough and well, if it’s a choice between Nathan adapting to the world, or the world adapting to him, the choice is obvious.
It’s disturbingly easy to convince Peter to join him. It’s like Peter has been waiting his whole life for this, for Nathan to just finally let go.
Nathan has a whole speech prepared for Peter. It’s a good speech, eloquent, passionate, and to the point. He doesn’t need to use it. Peter takes one look at him, smiles, and says, “Let’s go.”
It turns out that while there are lines that Peter will not cross, he has no trouble jumping off cliffs. After all, falling is meaningless when you can fly.
Day 11:
It’s the most disturbing thing Nathan has ever seen. Peter is petting a kitten, cuddling it close to his chest, and calling it pretty. The kitten purrs happily and tries to burrow into Peter’s neck. Peter had made them stop because he had heard the kitten crying, trapped on a 17th floor window ledge. Peter had just finished killing 8 people using just the power of his mind. There’s blood, not his, on Peter’s face, something unidentifiable smeared on Peter’s hair, and yet he seems like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he carefully scratches under the kitten’s chin.
Peter is weird. Nathan has always known this, but no one has ever believed him.
“Are you done fondling the cat, Peter?” Nathan asks, exasperated.
“Jealous?” Peter responds.
And here was the thing; arguments against sex with your brother based on morality and decency were far less effective after participating in mass murder. There’s no longer an image to uphold, no longer anyone to impress, what the masses think no longer really matters.
“Maybe,” Nathan admits.
Peter drops the kitten. It lands with a disgruntled meow. Peter ignores it, eyes focused solely on Nathan.
“You’re very strange. You know that, don’t you, Peter?” Nathan is trying to keep his tone light, but his voice sounds strained to his own ears, strained and desperate.
“But you love me anyway,” Peter says with a serene smile.
“But I love you anyway,” Nathan agrees. And then he reaches towards Peter’s face to try and brush some of the blood away, but Peter tilts his head a little bit and Nathan ends up brushing his finger across Peter’s lip. Peter’s eyes close and he mouth falls slightly open. Nathan can feel Peter’s tongue pressing against his finger.
“Let’s go home,” Peter whispers.
Nathan wants to protest that home is too far away, but before Nathan can get the words out, Peter has already left.
Day 15:
“What would you have done if I had refused to go along with this, if I had said that you were crazy, and promised to find a way to stop you,” Peter asks.
They’re in a hotel room in Las Vegas. They’ve been busy for the past two weeks, but tonight they finally have time to relax. Peter is lying in the bed and Nathan is sprawled in the chair in the corner watching as Peter levitates objects in the room and then drops them. It’s become Peter’s version of fidgeting.
“Stop that,” Nathan demands.
Peter rolls his eyes, but brings the floating pen, coffee maker, and ice bucket gently down on the table.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Peter says. He’s only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, a pair of Nathan’s, and every time Peter shifts position in the bed, they look like they’re about to slide off. It’s a little distracting.
“I had a very large needle and a whole lot of drugs. And no intention of ever using it.”
Peter sits up in the bed and looks at Nathan, “Why?”
“There’s no point in doing this without you,” Nathan says simply.
“Because you love me and there’s no point in doing anything without me by your side?” Peter asks, his tone sarcastic, but his eyes pleading.
“Well, that, and also you’re more powerful than Superman. Taking over the world would be much harder without you.”
Nathan is pleased with the flash of annoyance in Peter’s eyes. It’s good to know that no matter what, he still has the power to annoy his little brother.
There are a few minutes of silence and Nathan knows that Peter is thinking of way to get back at him.
“I heard you, you know,” Peter finally says.
“What?”
“I heard you practicing your speech in your head from miles away. I can always hear you. You thought we were having a moment. We weren’t. I just didn’t want to hear the speech for the 20th time.”
Nathan glares at Peter and does his best to try and look truly wounded by his words.
Peter glares back at Nathan for a moment and then his eyes soften. “It was a good speech,” he reassures.
Nathan smiles. Peter’s so easy.
But Peter isn’t done. “I liked it. A lot. You can give it to me again if you want.”
“I think the moment has passed, Peter,” Nathan grumbles, but he’s pleased that Peter is still playing.
“Please? I really want to hear it,” And for a moment, he sounds so much like the Peter of a year ago that Nathan is a little disturbed.
“Peter,” Nathan begins, but finds himself suddenly lifted off the chair and slammed against the wall. Peter is still lying on the bed. He isn’t even looking at Nathan, just smiling vaguely up at the ceiling.
Nathan thinks briefly about convincing himself that this isn’t insanely hot, but gives it up quickly as a lost cause. Nathan closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them Peter is right in front him.
“Please, Nathan,” Peter whispers into his ear. Peter doesn’t touch him, but the pressure holding him against the wall is suddenly pressing in some very interesting places.
Nathan moans. Peter smiles, incredibly pleased with himself.
“Cheater,” Nathan mutters.
Peter laughs and then bites down on Nathan’s neck, his hands in Nathan’s hair, keeping him still. Nathan feels the zipper on his pants being pulled slowly down and the short puffs of breath as Peter laughs into his neck.
“Speech, please,” Peter whispers, teeth lightly grazing across Nathan’s earlobe.
“I don’t remember it very well,” Nathan protests.
“Liar,” Peter says. He’s been working on unbuttoning Nathan’s shirt, stopping to lick at any exposed skin.
“There was something about making our own destiny,” Nathan tries.
Peter bites down on Nathan’s left nipple. “No, there wasn’t. Stop lying.”
“I was going to say that the world had failed us, that is we wanted to ever be safe, if we wanted our family to ever be safe, things would need to change. I was going to say: Luke, join me, and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the gala… Ow! Peter, that hurts.” Nathan yells, but then starts to laugh.
“Stop joking around,” Peter demands.
“Well, it’s hard to give a speech with your hand on my dick,” Nathan snaps.
“Try harder,” Peter orders, and then sinks to his knees.
Day 37
Nathan shoots Linderman in the face. It’s a good day. At least Nathan thinks it is. It’s late at night and he’s having trouble remembering exactly what had happened.
It’s all flashes and quick jumps, like he’s remembering something that happened when he was very drunk. He doesn’t remember much that happened before the actual shot, which is strange because he knows this was something that they had planned very carefully. He remembers, at one point, touching Peter’s arm to steady him, and Peter turning and looking at him and Nathan almost letting go and stepping back because he would never get used to that look on Peter’s face, the cold one with the faraway eyes and the small, strange smile.
He remembers that Linderman had ignored Nathan and the gun pointed at his head to stare at Peter, and he remembers thinking to himself: “My little brother is scarier than a loaded gun.” And he had paused a moment to contemplate that because he knew that he should find that thought horrifying and terrifying, but all he really thought was: “Neat.”
He remembers the look in Linderman’s eye right before Nathan shot him, disappointed and sad, like Nathan had let him down, and for a second Nathan almost felt bad about what he had to do, but the moment quickly passed.
And then there’s the other part, the really confusing part. Hiro had been there. Nathan’s not sure why, but knows that he hadn’t been invited. He had been yelling, truly angry, and Peter had struggled to restrain him because Hiro kept on playing around with time, appearing one place in the room and then another. Hiro had been breathing hard, looking panicked. Peter had looked determined and vaguely annoyed, like a child playing a particularly competitive game of tag.
He remembers Peter trying to calm Hiro down, one hand covering Hiro’s mouth, and the other almost petting him. Peter had been whispering into Hiro’s ear, but Hiro kept on shaking his head in refusal, not buying whatever Peter was trying to sell.
He remembers pointing his gun at Hiro and liking the spark of defiance that appeared in Hiro’s eyes. He really was the most likable person Nathan had ever met. He remembers trying to explain things. Telling Hiro that he was sure this was a misunderstanding, and that in other circumstances he was sure that they could all be friends. He remembers telling Hiro that he wished that things could be different, but they had plans, and Hiro was in the way. He remembers saying, “We make our own future. You understand that, right?”
Hiro had nodded and stared directly into Nathan’s eyes. Nathan remembers that he almost pulled the trigger, but instead he had nodded to Peter, and Peter had knocked Hiro out and lowered him gently to the ground.
Nathan thinks they left Hiro there, wrapped in Nathan’s coat, with a note that graphically described what would happen if he ever interfered again.
At least that’s how Nathan remembers it. He has a nagging feeling that he’s remembering things wrong. His head hurts whenever he tries to get the details straight. He keeps hearing the heavy thump of Hiro’s body falling to the ground, even though he remembers Peter gently lowering him. And he can’t stop thinking about waffles, and the thought of them is making him sick.
He could find out what really happened if he wants, but he doesn’t think that he’ll pursue it. These small anomalies in reality are to be expected when dealing with Peter. Peter doesn't want him to know what really happened and that's fine. It's important to let Peter have these little victories. It makes Peter feel like he's the one actually in control.
“I brought you a present,” Peter says from the doorway of the hotel room.
Peter had decided that they couldn’t leave Linderman’s art collection just lying there and had been busy dropping off various pieces of art to museums around the world.
He’s holding a painting and Nathan knows right away which one it is. Peter leans it against the wall and Nathan stares for a moment at his likeness in the Oval Office.
“What do you want to do with it?” Peter asks.
“Burn it,” Nathan says without hesitation.
Peter lifts up his arm.
“I’ll do it,” Nathan says quickly. Peter looks disappointed. “Sometimes the old fashioned ways are best.”
Nathan finds a book of matches, lights a match, and tosses it at the painting. The middle of the painting starts burning first and the fire spreads outward, the flame burning absurdly bright. For a moment, he thinks this was a really bad idea, but then he looks at Peter and knows that he’ll figure out a way to keep the flames under control.
When there is almost nothing left but ash, Peter looks at him. “Do you regret it? Giving up that future.”
“Not at all,” Nathan says immediately, “I like this one much better.”
Peter smiles at him and then Nathan pushes him onto the bed.
Peter must have done something truly bad earlier that day because he doesn’t play his usual games. He just lets Nathan fuck him and then begs Nathan for more.
It’s a good day.
Day 165
Peter has been missing for 4 days, but Nathan isn’t too worried about it. Peter just can’t stop doing good deeds and Nathan has resigned himself to the fact that Peter will occasionally feel the urge to go rescue kittens or stop earthquakes or teach small children how to read. He always comes back. More importantly, he always around when Nathan needs him.
Nathan enters his bedroom and isn’t at all surprised to find Peter curled up on top of the bed, sleeping. This house has the most high tech security system Nathan could find, but Peter likes suprising Nathan and there's really nothing that can stop Peter when he's determined.
Nathan leans over the bed to brush his lips gently against Peter’s forehead trying not to wake him up, but Peter’s eyes open and he smiles at Nathan.
“What did you get me?” Peter asks.
Nathan frowns.
“For my birthday. It’s my birthday today, Nathan. Did you forget?” Peter asks, looking more amused than angry.
“I used to have an assistant for these types of things.”
“You still need to get me a present,” Peter demands.
“I’m giving you the world, isn’t that enough?” Nathan asks.
“I guess. For now,” Peter answers, and then stretches for a moment before closing his eyes and falling back asleep. |
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