Superman
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Though I wish I did own these two little heroes.
A/N: This is the first fic I've ever posted. So, please, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome! Enjoy!
As the two bullets pierced his flesh, Nathan remembered.
Two seemingly insignificant memories were triggered in his mind, playing like a movie in fast motion, skipping scenes, and yet the recollections made perfect sense.
The door opened and Nathan stood on the front steps, a suitcase in his hand. Tall and exuding confidence. Angela pulled him in a tight hug. Her son was home after his first year of college. A real man, now. His mother pulled back, smoothening out her dress. Like she had never hugged him in the first place. Cool and Composed. The only other sign of her joy was the way her eyes sparkled. He missed that. He missed her.
He had entered the kitchen in search of something to drink. The trip was long, and his throat burned. It suddenly burned even more. So did the corner of his eyes. Magnetic letters were stuck onto their massive chrome fridge, spelling out "Welcome back, Nathan!" Bright, colorful, plastic, magnetic letters. Just like his brother. Except he wasn't plastic. No, he was his flesh and blood and a truly wonderful 7-year-old bundle of joy and optimism. He loved his brother. Oh, he did. Something sharp poked his ribs and he felt skinny little arms wrap around his knees. An uncontrollable smile appeared on his face. "Hey, Pete." He took the comic book from his brother, who had been shoving it in his face. Outstretched fist and dark curl in the middle of the forehead. Bold primary colors. Nathan couldn't resist a chuckle. "What's this Pete?"
The smaller child cocked his head to one side and blinked once, his deep brown eyes so gentle and just so sincere. Nathan would never let those eyes see anything unworthy of his little brother. Never.
"Daddy said that you had passed your exams with flying colors." Flying colors.
Peter saw it. The slight twitch in the corner of his brother's mouth. He saw it, he was sure.
Or maybe his eyes were just blurring up. He screamed his brother's name again. It was all he could do. Desperation filled his mind. It was all he could feel.
Voices buzzed around, merging together to form an unidentifiable sound. But two voices stood out more than the others. As Nathan felt his consciousness slipping away, another memory sucked him in. There was screaming, yelling, crying. Even a bit of culinary-ustensil-throwing. Nineteen-year old Nathan clenched his fist as his parents argued for the third time in two days. He entered his brother's room, and closed the door behind him. Peter was curled up on his bed, his Superman comforter wrapped around his skinny body. Nathan sat down on the bed and pulled his brother close to his chest.
"Peter…"
"Will this fight be as long as the last one?" His voice was so small, so weak. So helpless.
"I hope not, Pete."
The smell of pineapple rose from Peter's hair. Their mother always bathed them with pineapple soap. It was her favorite smell.
Peter's little fists were clenched around his ears and his eyes were shut tight. It broke Nathan's heart to see his little brother like this. Nathan would never let those ears listen to anything unworthy of the younger Petrelli. Never.
"Nathan?"
"Yeah, Pete?" A silence.
"Will you take me flying, one day, just like Superman?"
Nathan chuckled sadly. I'm sorry, Pete. I wish I could, but I don't have superpowers."
"Of course, Peter. I'll take you flying, just like Superman."
He never did take him flying. But how he wished he could, right now. He had disappointed his brother so often. Pushed him away uncountable times, because he had better things to do. But his brother never held a grudge, never blamed him. Peter saw things, heard things Nathan swore he would never let his little brother see or hear, simply because Nathan wasn't there to protect him. But Peter didn't care. Because Nathan was his brother and he loved him. Nathan wanted to tell Peter that he loved him too. He loved him because although he couldn't save the world (all he could do was fly, after all), to Peter, he would always be a hero.