December 25, 2005

"Working late again?"

Nathan Petrelli looked up from his desk, dim light from his lamp casting shadows across his empty office. The rest of the workers had been sent home, and he alone remained, committed to finishing what he had started. He was neither surprised nor entirely pleased to see his younger brother standing in his doorframe. "What do you want, Peter?"

Choosing not to answer, Peter moved from his position, no longer darkening Nathan's doorway, and sat down in one of the somber and expensive chairs in front of his brother's desk. "How can you even see in here with all the lights off?"

"I work well in the dark," Nathan returned his attention to the work at hand, ignoring his brother as he absentmindedly picked up a picture frame off of Nathan's desk. After several minutes when it became clear that Peter had no intentions of leaving, no matter how long he was ignored, Nathan's patience was dwindling and he decided to play along with his brother's games if it would get him out of his office. "Something I can do for you, Pete?"

"Dad sent me for you," Peter answered, placing the framed photo of himself and Nathan back on his brother's desk. "It's three o'clock in the morning."

"I'm fully aware of what time it is."

"Do you also know what the date is?"

Nathan groaned inwardly, not sharing his brother's festive demeanor, "Work doesn't stop just because it's the holidays, Pete."

"No," Peter nodded, "but your family doesn't stop missing you just because you have work to do, Nathan."

"A political career isn't as easy to succeed in as one where all you have to do is take care of dead people," the frustration and impatience Nathan felt were beginning to come out in Nathan's voice, "It takes planning, and patience, and a good deal of hard work. That means I have to be willing to make certain sacrifices."

Peter reached across the desk and grabbed Nathan's hand in his, forcing his brother to make eye contact with him. "Do you know what presents Simon and Monty are going to be unwrapping in a few hours?"

A tinge of regret and sorrow briefly flitted across Nathan's face, but just as quickly it vanished, being replaced by the hard stone mask he usually wore. "I have a lot of work to finish, Peter. You can tell Dad that I'll be home when I've finished."

Peter didn't say anything, but then he didn't have to. The sorrow in his face was not fleeting, and Nathan could see just how hurt his brother was. Peter nodded solemnly and stood up to leave. When he reached the doorway he stopped, not looking back at his brother but focused on the cold, dark night in front of him.

"Merry Christmas, Nathan."

December 25, 2006

The digital clock above Nathan's bed informed him that it was now exactly midnight, and therefore technically Christmas, although you wouldn't know it from his dark and isolated surroundings. The only thing that came close to festive decorations in his hospital room were the blinking red and green lights on his heart monitor. Wondering where exactly his family was now and how they were celebrating, Nathan found himself overcome with holiday misery. "Bah humbug."

"Is that anyway to celebrate the season?" To Nathan's surprise, a man suddenly appeared in the tiny and uncomfortable chair across from his bed, almost as if he had just blinked into existence.

Confusion filled his mind, before a look of recognition suddenly came across Nathan's face, "You're him, aren't you?"

"Him who, mate?" His bearded companion was jovial and full of life, a sharp contrast to Nathan's current demeanor.

"The invisible man that Peter talked about."

As the man grinned, Nathan couldn't help but think of how much he reminded him of the Cheshire cat, "One and the same. Name's Claude."

"What are you doing in my hospital room, Claude?" Nathan's voice dropped when he mentioned Claude's name, and the animosity he felt was almost tangible. He was in no mood for visitors.

"Promise I made to that brother of yours. Asked that if he ended up going Chernobyl that I'd keep an eye on you. Let me tell you, Mr. Nathan Petrelli, for a United States congressman, you are a tricky man to track down. Just think of me as your guardian angel."

Nathan didn't like the idea of having an invisible man he didn't know as a guardian angel, especially one he didn't know was watching over him. "How long have you been standing guard, exactly?"

"'Bout two weeks now. Don't worry though, I always averted my eyes during those sponge baths."

Nathan chose to ignore that remark and not dwell on the fact that the man in front of him now had most likely seen him at his most intimate, "What made you decide to alert me to your presence now?"

Claude sighed, and his Lewis Carroll-inspired grin faded, "You need to get over it, mate."

"Get over what?"

"Oh, don't give me that. You know damn well what you need to get your sorry ass over. The explosion."

"Oh, that" Nathan's voice was dripping with venom, "in case you didn't notice…" he gestured emphatically to his face.

"True, you won't be winning any beauty pageants with a mug like that, but you can't dwell on what's gone wrong."

"Well if I could turn invisible and hide away from my problems, maybe I wouldn't have to be sulking in a hospital."

Claude looked stunned for a moment before barking out a hoarse laugh, "That's some nice intuition you've got."

"Politician. It comes with the game."

"Nice played. As much as you may want to fight back against me, you know deep down that I'm right."

Nathan didn't respond. This was the first conversation he'd had in weeks that wasn't with a nurse, and as infuriating a companion as Claude was, Nathan wasn't in a hurry to have him leave. Especially when he found himself agreeing with the man. When it came down to it, the condition his body was in wasn't what had him troubled. He was surprised to hear himself whisper, "I miss Peter."

"I know," Claude nodded, his face now more somber, "but he ain't comin' back. And nothing either one of us can do is going to change that fact. But you, you did a good thing, mate. You did the right thing."

Nathan found himself nodding along with Claude, "I know. Hard to keep that in mind sometimes."

"Well you should keep it in mind," Claude's jovial mood had returned. "Brighten up your surroundings a bit. It is the holiday season after all. Maybe get some mistletoe."

"Then I might be forced into kissing the likes of you."

"'Fraid you might like it?"

Nathan, for the first time he could remember since waking up in the hospital, smiled, "Something like that."

Standing up from his chair, Claude began to head for the door, "Well, I think I'm going to leave you with your thoughts for a while. I've got more holiday cheer to spread around."

"Is that so?"

"Sure thing. And if that doesn't pan out, I can find a local pub serving Irish eggnog and get blind, stinkin' pissed."

"Bring some back."

Exiting the small room, Claude quickly vanished from sight, "We'll see about that."

Relaxing back in his bed, Nathan began to feel something he hadn't felt in far too long. Hope.

"Merry Christmas, Peter, wherever you are."