| Heroes Fic: Rehabilitation |
[May. 21st, 2007|03:42 pm] |
Can you believe that before September, I only had a vague idea who Adrian Pasdar was? Oh how times have changed. 
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: R
Spoilers: None
Notes: Vaguely inspired by something ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) kelly_girl said to me, same universe as 6E, but it stands on its own. Just a minor bump in the road to Nathan and Peter's world domination plans.
Day 1
When Nathan was a freshman in college he took Philosophy 101. He knew he wouldn’t like it, but he had been persuaded by the lure of an easy ‘A’ and the thought that it might be nice to be involved in something useless. He never did any of the readings, but he listened to class discussions spiral in more and more absurd directions until he couldn’t handle it anymore. He would be forced to speak up and apply logic and common sense to the problem, stunning everyone else into silence. Philosophy 101 was supposed to open your mind, teach you about truth and beauty. Nathan learned that for the most part, people were really, really stupid.
Now, he wishes he had paid more attention because he swears the situation he’s in now was an essay question on one of his philosophy tests. They say they want to know what makes him tick and that they’re going to peel back the layers until they know what’s inside. They can take his memory, a year here, a year there, or they can take all of his memories of just one thing, just one person. How long until he’s no longer him? And what exactly will he become? They think he will become someone else entirely, the person they want him to be. Nathan’s afraid he will just become nothing, an empty shell.
They tell him this is for a good cause, they they’re trying to save the world, and that they’re giving him a second chance. They say this will be an education, but they don’t specify who exactly this will benefit. Nathan’s pretty sure it’s not him.
Day 14
There are thirteen lines across Nathan’s arm, deep scratches in various states of healing. The first thing he does when he wakes up is take his nail and make another deep scratch in line with the other ones. He’s not sure why he does it, or why he knows that fourteen scratches means fourteen days, but he’s certain that he’s right.
They come into his room shortly after that, serious men and women in lab coats with blank faces and empty eyes.
“It’s day fourteen,” Nathan says cheerfully as they enter. He doesn’t know much, doesn’t remember anything past his 18th birthday, but he knows he loves making people angry, and he’s vaguely satisfied with the slight widening of eyes and the flash of fear.
Nathan’s not sure if he’s the rebellious type, he thinks probably not, but he does know that he’s good at surprising people, and he thinks maybe he can beat this, whatever the hell it is.
Day 19
This is not what torture is supposed to be like. They don’t touch him, though there is some pain. A headache that never goes away and nose bleeds with clots that can’t be good. It’s mostly just stacks of forms to fill out with endless questions about his personality, if he prefers being alone, or in crowds, what his favorite color is, if he’s punctual or impulsive, if he thinks he ever lies. It’s just endless stacks of paper. He had tried refusing, tried crumpling the paper into little balls. They had called in someone to talk to him, and he had been shown pictures of what they could do to his brain if he didn’t cooperate. Then they had taken him down the hall and showed him what was left of someone who had been uncooperative. There wasn't much to see.
Nathan stopped protesting and filled in all the little boxes, but there was one question that gave him pause.
Question 17-A-936-ii-4: Do you have siblings?
Nathan checks ‘No,’ but stops. He doesn’t remember siblings. He doesn’t remember much of his childhood at all, but something about this answer seems wrong. He stares at the paper for a minute before forcing himself to move on.
Day 20
Last night, he dreamt about flying. He remembers the feeling of someone in his arms and he remembers falling, but never hitting the ground. He’s strapped to a table now and everything hurts. He hears nurses whispering near him. The nurses are saying that they found him floating above his bed, that he had been trying to escape, throwing his body over and over against the stone ceiling. They say he almost got out. There was a crack, and after he was pulled out, the whole ceiling came down.
Day 23
He knows his name is Nathan, but he can’t remember anything else. He thinks that might be weird, that his name is all he has. He asks when they come in to talk to him and they agree that it is weird. They tell him that memory is a funny thing and that he has to accept the fact that he might never get his back. He nods his head and frowns as he rubs his hand through his hair. It’s too long, he thinks. He’s sure he doesn’t like his hair this long.
They ask why he doesn’t appear to be upset by all this. They wonder if maybe he’s in shock. He smiles at them, but the smile doesn’t feel quite right.
“I think,” he begins carefully, but stops because his voice surprises him. It’s low and confidant and not the voice of someone who is no one at all.
“I think,” he continues with more confidence, “that I might just be the type of person that always comes out on top.”
He tries smiling again and it comes out more like a smirk, but it feels right, so he keeps it on his face, and then he leans in and whispers in the ear of the person sitting right across from him, “Don’t you agree?”
And he thinks from their stunned looks and nervous glances that he just did something incredibly right or very, very wrong.
Day 24
He wakes up to a hand covering his mouth and concerned eyes looking down on him. A finger goes to the man’s lips, cautioning him to be quiet as he removes the hand from over Nathan’s mouth.
“Who are you?” Nathan whispers. He doesn’t necessarily care. Anything is better than this.
He sees something like fury flash in the man’s eyes before he says, “I’m Peter,” and then there’s a pause like he thinks that should be enough and then he continues, “Your brother.”
Nathan nods. It makes sense. He never believed he was an only child.
“And you’re…”
“Nathan. I know who I am.”
“Really?” Peter asks.
“Well, no, but I know something, I think. I know what I’m not.” Nathan rolls his eyes at the words coming out of his mouth. “I don’t think I’m very good at this existential crap.”
Peter laughs, sounding relieved. He brings his hand up to touch Nathan’s cheek. “You’re definitely still you.”
“Now what?” Nathan demands.
“We leave,” Peter says simply.
“How?”
“I’m thinking a whole lot of violence,” Peter responds. And then he smiles and it light up his entire face. Nathan smiles back.
Day 25
Nathan can fly. He’s still processing that fact. Well, he’s processing the fact that he’s not surprised by that fact at all. Of course he can fly. He can do anything. Or rather, Peter can do anything. And Peter is his brother. His brother who destroyed an entire building the day before without breaking a sweat and had still looked nervously at Nathan as they were leaving, almost as if he was looking for Nathan to tell him, “Good job.” Nathan had simply brushed the dust out of Peter’s hair and asked, “Now what?” Peter had pointed up and Nathan had known exactly what came next.
Now, Nathan is lying in bed watching Peter pace back and forth in the bedroom of an apartment Peter says is theirs. Peter has been giving him lots of information, about things they’ve done and plans they have. And every time Peter tells him something, he looks at Nathan with wide, fearful eyes, like he’s afraid Nathan isn’t going to believe him or that Nathan’s going to be upset. Nathan thinks that Peter would do anything Nathan tells him just as long as Nathan doesn’t leave. It’s ironic, really, because Nathan doesn’t care about any of the things Peter is telling him, he barely pays attention. He just like the way Peter looks at him, like he’s the greatest thing in the world, and the way Peter always touches him, like he can’t believe Nathan’s really there.
Day 26
Nathan wakes up from another dream about flying and for a moment he wishes that he could go back to sleep because the dream had been amazing. In the dream, he is with Peter and they are flying, Peter is laughing, daring him to do something. And then he has Peter pressed up against a wall, but they’re hundreds of feet up in the air and Peter isn’t laughing anymore. He’s trembling and for a moment, Nathan worries that there’s something wrong, but then he realizes that Peter is trembling not because he wants to escape, but because he’s using all his control to stay exactly where he is. And the fingers pressed into Nathan’s back leaving bruises and the teeth that are leaving marks on his neck are all sign that no matter how powerful Peter gets, all he really wants is Nathan.
Nathan finally opens his eyes and finds Peter sitting on his bed, watching him with a slight smirk.
“Did you sleep well?” Peter asks.
“You know what I was dreaming, don’t you?” Nathan asks. The list of things that should be disturbing him about all this is incredibly long, but Nathan finds that he doesn’t really care. He liked dreaming about Peter. He likes the fact that Peter was watching him dream. He likes the fact that Peter is in his bed now.
Peter just smiles at him.
Nathan almost asks Peter if he’s really Nathan’s brother, but then he decides it’s a stupid question.
“We’ll fix this, Nathan. We’ll get your memories back,” Peter promises.
Nathan nods. He’s not sure it’s possible, but he has some ideas. His brain has been moving faster since he woke up and he thinks that maybe he’s finally getting up to normal speed. And then he realizes that there’s something important that he neglected to do. He grabs Peter’s face in his hands and just looks at him for a moment.
“Are you okay Peter, really?” Nathan asks.
“I am now,” Peter replies.
“I mean did anything happen to you while I was gone. Did anyone try to hurt you?” Nathan asks.
“I’m invulnerable, Nathan,” Peter responds dryly.
“There’s no such thing,” Nathan responds, surprised by the bitterness in his own voice.
“It’s nice to see the cynicism still firmly in place,” Peter snaps.
Nathan laughs. He wants to tell Peter that it doesn’t matter if they ever get his memories back. The only thing that matters is that Peter is with him, but he’s not sure he’s the type of person that says those sort of things. He thinks he might be, but it can wait because now Peter is looking at him, and all the concern and worry are gone, and there’s only heat.
“Do you want to try a live reenactment of your dream?” Peter asks.
“I’m still recovering, Peter. I’ve had a very traumatic experience,” Nathan replies sternly.
“Sorry,” Peter says and then Peter throws him out the window and Nathan thanks whoever may be listening that he is apparently far beyond any sort of rehabilitation because this is all he ever wants. |
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