Disclaimer: not mine
A/N: Young Peter has always remained a bit ambivalent about how he sees Ender, at least to me. So I figured I could maybe try to write what was going on through his head ... I don't know. I'll stop rambling now and let you read the fic.
NOTE: This is Young Peter we're talking about, from the third and fourth books of the original Ender quartet, the one pulled out of Ender's mind in non-space. This is NOT Ender's older brother, Peter Wiggin, Hegemon of Earth.
He Hates Me
Why does he hate me so much? He created me, didn't he? He is my father, isn't he? So why won't he accept me? Why won't he love me the way he loves Val?
The first time he saw us, my sister and I, I knew it. He looked at my sister – my lovely beautiful sister, young and innocent Val – and said, "You can't be real." But I heard the hope in his voice, the wordless prayer – Please, let it be real. Let her be real.
Val heard it too – she had to hear it, one would have to be deaf to miss it – and so she spoke the words our father had not: "Of course I'm real."
I could see it in his face then, in the lines around the corners of his mouth, in the curl of his hands, in the hunch of his shoulders. I saw how stupid he felt, how clumsy. I saw too that Val saw it. Her eyes flicked from his face to his hands to his shoulders – then she lowered her gaze to her feet. She saw it, but she was not going to mention it, for she was kind and considerate.
Very well then. Since Val is kind and considerate, then I too will be kind and considerate – kind and considerate enough to take it upon myself to say what we both want to say, but what she – due to some strange quirk – cannot.
"Poor Ender," I said, smiling. He had praised my sister for voicing his thoughts, praised her with the love in his eyes. If I did the same, I would be praised too, right? "Clumsy and stupid." Please, Ender, please – look at me. Look at me the same way you looked at my sister. Look at me and love me.
And Ender turned to look at me, the same shock and surprise lighting his eyes as when he looked at Val. "Peter," he said – but there was no hope in his voice, no wish for my existence to be a reality. My heart sank – didn't he care for me at all?
"I thought I'd never see you again." The loathing in his eyes, the hate etched in his face, the fear that made his hands tremble – I saw it all, heard all of this and more in his voice. "You died long ago." I could almost hear what he really wanted to say, what these words he did say really meant – I wish you had never come back. I was glad to leave you behind me. I was happy you had died. I don't want you here, now, alive. I wish you were dead. I hate you.
Ender – Father, Brother, God – why can't you love me? I am your son, your brother, your creation. Why do you hate me?
I hate you!
A/N: Like it? Hate it? Want to burn it? Then review please! (As implied, flames are accepted, though not necessarily welcomed.)