This is my first Heroes fic, it's based on a Theory I have about Peter's Powers, basically that while he is an Empath, as well as absorbing people's powers, he also manages to store them, not using them until such time as he needs whatever advantage they may give him in a given situation.
There is a slight AU to this story, but all i've changed is that once, a little while ago, Niki was in NYC and had a very brief and in no way shippery encounter with Peter Petrelli.
Then, after the benefit where Nathan 'outted' Peter's 'suicide attempt' there was another day between those two episodes, in which the happenings of this fic...happen...hehe
Er, this story, the main part, starts around...late afternoonish, just to give an idea of time.
Any way, please R+R and please enjoy.
I dont own any of the characters apart from any OC's i might bring into it...i haven't decided if i will yet, probably i wont, but we'll see how it goes.
Oh, er, caution for language, content; sex and violence
So yeah...Peter met Niki once, a while back, and now in the present day, an encounter with some muggers causes a strange reaction to take place within the younger Petrelli.
The New Peter is cold, calculating, and not entirely sane. And he isnt going to go down without a fight.
Peter Petrelli leaned his head back against the hard plastic seat of the subway and fought the urge to just close his eyes and fall asleep where he sat, pinching the skin on the back of his hand to shock himself awake some more.
He took a deep breath and briefly regretted it, since the large overweight guy beside him had a limited grasp of the word 'personal hygiene' and Peter had to fight to keep his face straight, feeling an idle chuckle work its way up the back of his throat.
He glanced out of the window across from where he sat, watching the strobe flashes of the wheels on the tracks light up the darkened brick beyond the glass and felt his eyes start to flutter, so pinched himself again, harder than he meant to, enough to make him wince and get another nose full Eau de Smelly Guy.
He started as he heard a sharp voice and glanced up to see a tall but slender blonde woman twisting her arm out of the grip of a large, angry looking man, dressed in leathers and chains, a biker of some sort. The guy was a lot bigger than the young woman, in height and in his massive, massive build, muscle and fat running together to form solid bulk. He had a shaved head but a thick beard and hairy arms coming out of a sleeveless leather vest over a stained wife beater.
He was leering down at the woman, a crude grin splitting his ugly features "Come on, I know you're her" he chuckled "Come with me and meet my friends, they wont believe I met you"
"No idea what you're talking about" the blonde said with a blank smile, as if she was trying to stay calm and polite for her own sake rather than courtesy's.
"I'm not asking" The gorilla looking guy said in a voice that carried even across the carriage to Peter.
The woman, dressed in a tight coat, jeans, and winter boots, the better for the snowy weather outside, tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and gave the guy another smile, this one far less pleasant than before "Okay, enough now" she stated, "I'm not going any where with you, so how about you leave me alone?" she pointedly turned her back on him and crossed her arms over her stomach, her shoulders hunched up uncomfortably.
"Oh, I think not, Niki" the guy growled, snatching her arm and forcibly turning her around to face him.
"Get off me!" the woman snapped, loud enough that everyone on the car looked up.
Peter ran on auto pilot, rising from his seat and crossing the train car, sliding his arm around the woman's waist casually and pulling her close to him, planting a soft kiss on her cheek "Hey honey, I didn't see you over here!" he said coolly, meeting her eye and raising his eyebrows just so, telling her wordlessly to play along.
She hesitated and he grabbed her bare hand with his, using the double grip to simply slide her out of the bulky mans grip and push her behind him slightly, so he stood between him and the guy hassling her.
"Hey baby" she jumped into his lie with both feet, letting a sexy, flirtatious grin spread over her face, "I cant believe you went to work today, after last night and all" she winked at him, moving just enough that the big guy had to see it.
"Gotta pay the bills right?" Peter shrugged "Who's your friend?" he turned to the gorilla guy "Peter Petrelli" he held a hand to be shaken.
"You know her?" the guy growled, clearly not high on the intellectual ladder.
"We're engaged" Peter grinned winningly "Why?" he frowned.
"She's an internet stripper" the guy sneered and Peter felt Niki, the woman, grip his hand nervously.
"Oh this again?!" Peter rolled his eyes exaggeratedly "You've made a mistake buddy, we've seen that website, the woman looks a lot like Lois here but, trust me, they're not the same person" he gave an almost apologetic shrug "You have no idea how often we get stopped in the street or something, by people thinking Lois is her"
The guy looked at Niki, his brow furrowing in concentration, the muscles in his arms twitching as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
"You're lying to me" he sneered.
"Well, either way, this is our stop, come on Lois" Peter bolted for the doors as the train came to a halt at a station and rushed out onto the platform, pulling Niki behind him.
The man mountain followed slowly, so wordlessly, Peter and Niki ran for the stairs, up and out of the station and onto the snow covered street.
Peter ducked left as soon as the reached the street and pulled Niki into a door way, giving her a reassuring smile as he leaned out enough to see the bulky guy lumber up the stairs, look around for them, and head off in the opposite direction.
Peter waited a second, then stepped out into the street again, pulling Niki with him.
"He's gone, you're okay" he smiled at her, tucking his slightly overgrown hair behind his ear, "Sorry if I was…too forward down there, I just….he rides that train at the same time as me sometimes and he's kinda bad news, around women, he's…are you okay?" he asked her.
Niki nodded, giving him a smile as he let go of her hand "No, thank you, it was really sweet of you to help" she nodded "You didn't have to"
Peter shrugged it off "I just did what any one else would have done" he shook his head.
"But they didn't" Niki frowned "Uh…listen, I'd buy you a coffee or something, as a thank you, but I was literally on my way back to my hotel to pick up my bags and go to the airport, I was only here visiting a sick friend" she looked apologetic.
"Oh don't worry about it!" Peter shook his head again" Don't think you owe me anything, you go ahead, get home safe…I just hope that guy doesn't…taint your view of New York…like I said he makes a point of being a creep"
Niki smiled again "I owe you…I'll pay you back someday, I swear" she crossed her heart "But now I'm sort of stuck to get back" she pulled a 'whoops' face.
"Where's your hotel?" Peter asked her.
"It's called the Regal" Niki shrugged "I could get to it if I'd gotten off the right stop but up here I'm sort of lost" she admitted.
Peter looked up at the street sign, thought on it, and nodded "I could walk you there or you can get a cab, I know where it is from here" he shrugged.
Niki checked her watch "I'd actually…I would like to walk but time wise…I ought to get a cab" she grimaced.
Peter grinned and nodded, stepping out to hail a cab.
One pulled up almost instantly and Peter held the door open for her to climb in.
"You're a real gentleman, huh?" Niki gave a small laugh "That's pretty rare these days"
Peter chuckled "It's my doormat nature, I think I have to be nice or nobody'll like me" he joked.
Niki leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, cupping his jaw with her hand as she did.
She took his hand again and squeezed it "Thank you, really" she looked into his eyes "Really" she stated seriously.
Peter looked back and gave a small nod "Travel safe" he told her "Maybe I'll see you again"
"Bye Peter" Niki released his hand and climbed into the cab, letting him close the door behind her.
She waved to him out of the window as the cab pulled into the street and Peter waved back, smiling as the cab turned a corner.
He tucked his cold hands into his pockets, wishing he'd worn gloves against the wicked cold, and headed back down into the subway, to catch his train home.
A few months later…
Peter Petrelli gazed half idly down at the folded newspaper in his hand, pointedly ignoring the small front page article about the benefit the night before. It was headed by a picture of Nathan giving that 'brave but troubled' smile he had perfected, and a direct quotation from the speech he'd given, announcing to the world that Peter, his younger brother, had tried to kill himself, that he, like their father had done, suffered from a deep depression.
Peter knew it was a lie. He knew he'd flown, Nathan had flown…he'd been to see Isaac and he'd doodled that stick man drawing in the notebook that seemed to have predicted his own flight in front of Nathan. Isaac painted the future when he got high…Peter had touched Isaac when helping him with his OD, and he'd doodled the future. He'd been holding on to Nathan and he'd flown. He was starting to figure out what he could do, how his own power worked.
He couldn't fly by himself, not yet…but he could take Nathan's power of flight, and use it. Not all the time, it seemed. Peter still needed to figure out if when he took a power, if it was permanent, or if the power he absorbed faded away eventually and he needed to 'recharge' them, by touching the person he'd taken them from in the first place.
Peter shook his head and stuffed the paper in his bag, looking up and around the crowded car to see if any one was looking at him. There had been a picture of him in the paper, small and grainy but still clearly of Peter. No one seemed to recognise him, if any one had even looked closely enough, and Peter took a deep, sighing breath as the train slid to a halt and he squeezed between the other people on the train and out onto the plat form.
He walked up to the street, into the still falling rain, remembering with a smile the kiss, and the night he'd spent with Simone.
He shivered against the cold rain, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head, for all the good it would do against the sheets of water falling from above and headed up the street towards the little library he'd heard was up here, stocking books that might help him in his search.
He fished the piece of paper he'd noted down the address on, out of his pocket, and squinted at the writing in the dim light of a streetlamp, immediately regretting using a fountain pen with liquid based ink.
He knew where the library was, in theory, but it was small, independent, and so stuffed in a basement in an alleyway some where, so actually getting there was going to be a little difficult.
He found the right alley way, pausing at a corner vendor to buy a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee, feeling that scratch in his chest and throat, the ache behind his eyes, that threatened a bad cold coming on.
He wrapped his hands around the coffee and paid the vendor with a five dollar bill, having nothing smaller on him at the time.
Ducking into the narrow alley way shielded him some what from the rain, Peter walked along slowly, remembering when he'd written the address down that the door way was half hidden behind a stair case leading into a restaurant.
He saw the concrete steps up ahead and allowed himself a smile, even as a hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing sharply as he was turned and shoved against the wall, turning his head at the last second to prevent being slammed face first into the brick work.
He felt a sharp edge press against the side of his neck as some one stepped up close behind him, their breath hot against his cheek even through the rain.
"Gimme your wallet" the mugger hissed in his ear.
"Right side inside pocket" Peter answered automatically, this not being the first time he was mugged.
He felt a hand snake across his chest and dart into his pocket, retrieving his wallet.
The same hand gripped his wrist, snatching his watch off roughly enough that the clasp tore a ragged scratch in the skin on the inside of his wrist.
"You got anything else?" the mugger sneered as he pressed heavily against Peter's back, making Peter aware how large he was, judging by his weight.
"Nothing" Peter gasped as the muggers weight crushed him slightly.
"What's in your bag?" The mugger growled.
"Just books, I was going to the library" Peter answered, feeling a throb over his eye and the tickling sting of a cut.
"You sure?" The mugger asked even as he yanked the bag around and began routing through it.
"Take a look" Peter couldn't help but growl angrily "It's just books, I don't have anything else"
"You gotta have a cell phone or something" The mugger sneered, the jerking movements of him routing through the bag causing the blade against Peter's neck to bite into his skin painfully.
"I don't have it on me" Peter hissed through gritted teeth, "You've got everything of value"
"Oh right" the mugger scoffed "Pretty boy like you gotta have something expensive on you, don't you have one of them cranberry's?"
"A what?" Peter frowned, genuinely confused "No, you have everything"
"Fuckin lying bastard" The mugger threw a punch at Peter's back, over the kidney, the pain spreading through his side and chest as the air whooshed out of his lungs and he gasped.
He tried to stay standing, aware of the blade at his throat, but the mugger hit him again and Peter slumped painfully, feeling the knife cut into the skin of his neck, not deep, but painful.
He fell to the ground and immediately curled into a ball, tucking his head against his chest as the mugger began kicking and stomping on him.
"What's he got D?!" Some one yelled and Peter cursed inwardly at the thought of another mugger.
"He say's nothing but I know he's lyin" 'D' Peter's mugger, shot back.
"Hey pretty boy, what you got?!" the second mugger snarled, dragging Peter roughly to his knees "You got something for me?" he gave a strange smile as he glared down at Peter "Damn you are pretty" he licked his lips and a detached part of Peter's mind marvelled as his blood actually did seem so run cold.
Peter didn't move, feeling some how that if he didn't move, didn't draw attention to himself, they'd leave him alone.
"Come on Pretty Boy…what you got for me?" the new mugger asked, grabbing a handful of Peters hair and yanking Peter's head back, so he had to meet their eyes "You got something special right?" he gave that strange smile again and tugged on Peter's hair some more, drawing pained gasps from his throat.
"What you got?" the second mugger asked gently as his friend glanced nervously up and down the alley way.
"Man we can be seen from the street here!" he snapped harshly.
The second mugger nodded and headed down the alley way, dragging Peter along behind him, moving behind a surprisingly clean dumpster and shoving Peter so hard against a brick wall that Peter's head connected with the brick with a solid crack and his eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped.
"Come on Pretty Boy, show me what you got" the second mugger sneered, leaning forwards over Peter, rubbing his own thigh close to the inside stitch of his jeans.
"Don't do this" Peter groaned dazedly "You don't want to do this, just let me walk away" he gasped.
"Shut up" the second mugger snarled, aiming a vicious kick at Peter's ribs that doubled him over in pain. The mugger shoved him and kicked him again, Peter slamming into the wall again as the mugger began to reach for his own belt "I know you got what I want" he leered as Peter curled around his own pain, shaking his head desperately.
"Don't" he repeated "Don't do this"
"Get up" the mugger barked "Get up Pretty Boy and gimme what I want"
Peter shook his head again, and again, the mugger kicked him in the ribs "I aint askin mother fucker!" the mugger yelled.
Peter tried, dazedly, to simply shove the guy away but it was a mistake, as the mugger gave a wordless angry yell and kicked and shoved him yet again, forcing Peter to simply drop to the ground throw his arms over his head, drawing up his knees and doing what he could to protect himself.
The mugger reached for Peter to grab his jacket and pull him back to his feet, but very suddenly, Peter's hand lashed out and grabbed the muggers wrist, holding it painfully tight, twisting it aside as Peter rose to his feet, his eyes blankly angry.
"Don't touch me again" he said quietly, taking a step forwards, forcing the mugger to stagger back wards or risk having his arm bent backwards the wrong way.
"What the fuck man!" the mugger snapped angrily.
"Back up" Peter said quietly, even as he shoved the mugger back again, "Give me back the wallet, the watch, anything you have, actually, lets even up" he gave 'D' a cold look.
The young man was massive but he flinched from the look Peter gave him, glancing to his companion for a cue on how to react.
"Fuckin kill him man!" the second mugger growled and immediately, 'D' surged forward, bringing up his knife with a wordless growl.
He didn't see Peter's free hand swing up towards him but he felt it when Peter closed his hand around his wrist and twist sharply, his foot darting out and hooking behind 'D''s knee, pulling forwards and yanking D off balance, pulling the knife from out of his hand and flicking it closed expertly, closing his fist around the thick handle and throwing a punch at the second mugger, the knife handle making the punch harder than it would have been on its own.
D tackled Peter as he was turning back around from the punch, wrapping his arms around Peter's body and arms, pinning them to his side.
Peter brought up a knee and took the air out of D when it made contact with the bigger mans gut, shrugging off his arms and dropping into a half crouch as the second mugger charged him.
The guy ducked low and used his shoulder to lift Peter off his feet, slam him against the wall, shoving his shoulder forward again and again to try and force the air out of Peter's body.
Peter yelled breathlessly in pain and anger and punched down and inwards at the second muggers back, managing for a second to plant his feet against the wall behind him.
He only needed that one second and he used it to push himself and the mugger away from the wall, bringing the knee forward to slam into the guys gut, hard enough that the mugger dropped him back to the ground an as soon as his feet touched concrete, Peter slammed his head forwards, his forehead crunching into the muggers nose so hard the crack of bone and cartilage was audible and the mugger shrieked in agony, reeling away and falling to his knees, clutching at his face.
D charged at Peter again, but Peter swung his leg out in a kick so hard it slammed the man against the wall.
D cowered against the bricks, holding up his hands in what amounted to surrender.
He dug hurriedly in his pockets and retrieved Peter's things, holding them out for Peter to take.
Peter smiled as he took back what was his, pocketing it all slowly, secure in the knowledge that the muggers wheren't getting up again.
He turned to the second mugger, a cruel smile on his face.
"You wanted to know what I've got?" Peter looked down at the shocked, bloodied man.
Peter drew the knife he'd taken from D, seemingly ignorant of the blood that was running down his face and neck from the cuts there.
He leaned in, flicking the blade out of the handle and holding the point against the skin under the mugger's eye, pressing just hard enough for the tip to break the skin and draw a bead of blood that was quickly rinsed away by the rain.
"What I have…is the ability, and the will, to cut out your fucking eye…is that what you want?" Peter asked, and it would almost have been polite and pleasant if there wasn't ice coating his every word.
"N….no" the mugger whispered, terrified to move.
"Are you absolutely sure? You seemed sure before" Peter noted.
"I don't want it. I'm sorry" the mugger whispered.
Peter stared at him, a smile playing across his lips, a considering look flicking through his eyes, and the mugger knew that Peter was deciding whether or not to take out the eye.
He didn't seem conflicted by guilt, there was no guilt in those eyes. It was cold, intellectual, hard, the look playing through them, as if he was doing the mental maths, running the logic over in his mind. He seemed to come to the conclusion that it would, logistically, be too much hassle.
He closed the knife and pocketed it smoothly, pushing the mugger backwards with a casual shrug and turning on his heel, simply walking away without a backwards glance.
He stepped out of the alley way, cricking his neck and running his hands through his soaked hair.
Peter walked into the street, glaring at the drivers of the cars who had to slam on their brakes to avoid killing him.
He saw his own reflection in a shop window and paused briefly, watching the way the image of himself moved oddly.
He smiled, slowly, and cruelly, turned on his heel, and walked into the night.
Heroes
Nathan Petrelli felt bad.
He was alone in his office, having sent every one home early to prepare for the mad rush the next few days would bring, as the elcetion drew ever closer.
He was looking at a picture of him and his brother, Peter, the younger man smiling shyly as Nathan beamed at the camera, his larger physique and lighter coloured hair, his toothy grin, easily overshadowing the smaller, darker, Peter.
He had been thinking of his own career the night before, of his future in politics, and he'd betrayed his kid brother, used him, as a tool.
Peter…Nathan didn't want to admit it again but damn it, Peter had flown. Nathan had too.
But Senators, didn't fly. They wheren't…super heroes.
Nathan sipped his slightly Irish coffee and stared at the picture of him self and his little brother, part of him wishing he could take back the announcement he'd made about Peter, disguising the truth as something he could spin, could use.
A Senator with a picture perfect family and past, that was one thing. But Nathan knew how to make Something of Something, he knew how to turn the truth to his own favour.
No one had even known that Peter had jumped off a building, and utterly no one had known the Petrelli brothers had flown.
But some one would have found out eventually that a Peter Petrelli had been admitted to a hospital suffering injuries consistent with a fall from a notable height, and would have asked why Nathan hid it, why he kept it secret that his brother was mentally ill.
Nathan had just…gotten there first.
He'd taken control of the situation before some one else turned it against him, deciding he'd hidden his brothers illness out of some embarrassment. And these days it wasn't PC to be embarrassed about mental illness or any illness in the family.
These days you admitted to it. You embraced it, you asked the public for sympathy , you admitted that you too didn't have it made, that you where like them and had problems in the family.
When people thought you had something in common with them, they liked you more, they where more likely to vote for you.
Nathan had known this.
He was a shit. He nodded to himself as he thought it.
"I'm a shit" he announced to his empty office.
"I'm not gonna correct you" Peter's voice preceded him into the office and Nathan jumped, looking up to see his kid brother stood in the door way, the hood of his jacket pulled up over his hair, shadowing his face.
"Peter" Nathan said with a start "What are you doing here kid?" he asked, sitting up straight in his seat.
"Thought I'd stop by and see you bro, see, you know how you have to cover everything, keep track of all the ways the family fucks up so you can get a jump on the media coverage?" Peter asked, still standing in shadow.
Nathan rose from his seat, picking up his coffee and taking a swig, feeling he'd need the Irish part of it.
"Peter you don't sound right, you uh…you been drinking?" he asked, even though he knew Peter didn't drink.
"I thought I should come straight to you, I was mugged you see" Peter finally stepped into the office and pushed his hood back and Nathan cursed out loud, running around the desk towards his brother.
Peter's face was literally, covered in blood, from a cut over one eye brow, another under his hair, the rain barely seeming to have affected it. There was blood on his neck from a long cut there.
His black hair was plastered to his skull in soaked strands, his eyes, which where that shade of brown so dark its essentially black, reflecting pin points of light, where wide and cool, calculating, more so than Nathan had ever seen in his brother.
He frowned, but grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him to the seat across from Nathan's own, sitting him down and gently touching Peter's face, turning his head to see the wounds better.
"Jesus Peter, did you call the cops?" he asked, crossing to his small bathroom in the back corner of his office, opening the medicine cabinet and retrieving the small first aid kit he had there.
He hurried back to his brother "No" Peter watched him, smiling, as Nathan tipped out the contents of the small bag, running back to the bathroom to get a glass of water "I kicked the holy hell out of them. It was fun. It felt good" Peter looked up at Nathan as his older brother walked around his seat with the water in hand and passed to Peter.
"You did what?!" Nathan grabbed one of the sachets containing antiseptic wipes and tore it open, leaning forward and carefully poking at Peter's hair to find the cut on his scalp.
"I beat the shit out of the muggers. And liked it" Peter stated as if talking to some one stupid, over enunciating his words.
"Peter, we need to get you to a hospital, you've clearly got…fuckin…concussion or something" Nathan muttered frantically, finding the still bleeding cut at last and pressing the wipe against it, waiting for Peter to flinch.
Since they where children, Peter had hated having antiseptics put on cuts, it had become borderline phobic for him, so Nathan was expecting a big jump or curse, but Peter didn't even seem to notice.
"They shouldn't have messed with me, those shit heads wanted to rape me Nathan" Peter said, his voice gone terribly cold "They where dragging me back to an alley way to rape me"
Nathan froze, stepping back and meeting his brothers eye.
"But I woke up, and I stopped them" Peter was smiling, his voice almost liltingly dreamy.
"Peter…I'm calling the police" Nathan said firmly "You…it'll be okay, I'll look out for you little brother" there was a quaver in his voice as his imagination ran wild with the thought of what could have happened to his brother.
"No" Peter said with a shake of his head, his tone oddly casual "No you wont"
"What?!" Nathan snapped "Peter these…dead men walking, they tried to rape you, they could do it to others, you have an obligation to call the cops!"
Peter stared up at him. "You have an obligation to look out for your brother…but you didn't…so why the fuck should I do something that even Mr wannabe Senator Nathan can't do?" he seemed to be genuinely asking.
Nathan froze, an answer borne of guilt jumping fresh to his mind "Because…you're a better person than me" he said quietly.
"I'm a better person…I'm sweet, I'm sensitive, I'm polite and kind and…oh yeah, suicidal" Peter raised an eyebrow at his brother.
"Look…I did what was necessary" Nathan started.
"You sold me out" Peter said quietly.
"What would you have me do Peter?" Nathan asked, growing slightly angry "Admit to what happened? 'Vote for Nathan Petrelli, he can fly!'" he pulled a 'come on!' face "We'd be locked up in some lab and never see daylight, and probably some vital organs, ever again!" he snapped.
Peter was watching him, his face calm, his eyes dark "If you didn't want to admit to what we can do…that's one thing…but you…used me…for your fucking political career" he said quietly "I don't like being used"
"I was protecting you" Nathan growled "If I hadn't done what I did, people would start to ask what you were doing on that roof top"
"No. They wouldn't. They didn't" Peter reminded him.
"They would have eventually. And they would have asked questions, and they would have found people who have overheard some of the conversations we've had the last few days, and it would have gotten out that you think we can fly" Nathan explained "And then they either would have thought you delusional, and would have locked you up as a crazy person, or…some one bad might find out and want to know if its true, bringing us back to being chopped up in some government lab!"
"No one even knew" Peter said quietly "The press covering your campaign barely know I exist…story of my life" he gave a mean little smile "I'm not scandalous. I don't rock the boat, I don't make headlines. I've never been photographed with a stripper or killed a hooker in a motel room or been arrested or done any of the things politicians siblings are supposed to do, to fuck up the political careers of their big brothers…I was living my life, I was finding shit out about myself, and you…tainted it" Peter rose from his seat and even though he was slightly shorter, and much slighter in build than Nathan, there was a coiled tension to him, like a cat ready to pounce, that raised the hackles of the soldier in Nathan, touched that nerve that made him want to defend himself from attack.
He did not like getting that vibe from his brother.
"I did…what I thought was best" Nathan said carefully.
Peter stood very still, staring at Nathan.
"For who, exactly?" Peter asked softly and Nathan met his eye and pressed his lips together.
"Peter…what's wrong with you?" he asked quietly "You're not acting like your self"
"No. I'm not" Peter grinned suddenly and it was frightening "Isn't it great?"
"No" Nathan stated "You need a doctor, you can tell them you fell down some stairs"
"No" Peter said again.
"Then why are you here? If you don't want, or need my help, why are you here?" Nathan asked.
"I woke up in that alley way. Not Nice retiring Peter, me, the Peter that gets shit done" Peter stated "And I wanted you to see what I can get done, I wanted you to see, I'm not going to be a doormat any more. The other Peter might, but not me" he said cryptically "I'm around now, and things are gonna change"
"This isn't you" Nathan snapped but he was a freaked out and it was in his voice, a faint quaver.
"This is more me than you could even begin to understand" Peter took a half step forwards "You know all those times you shot the Old Peter down, cut him off in a conversation, told him he was wrong, or wasting his life, or a risk to your career?" he asked "All the times he's just stood there and taken it, and never said a word to you, against you? Well I am the part of Peter where all than anger, and that unfulfilled rage and all of it, goes. I am borne of his anger Nathan. I'm his dark side, if you will. And I'm in control now"
"Are you on something?" Nathan growled, his soldiers instincts going insane, screaming warnings inside his head.
"Believe me, you wish" Peter smiled.
He reeled away from Nathan so abruptly that the older man all but slumped with relief that his brothers attentions seemed to be focused else where for now.
But as he glanced at his brother's back, there was something in the set to Peter's shoulders that seemed to telegraph that while he wasn't actually looking at Nathan, his attention was most definitely focused on him.
"I'm gonna go. Cos you're boring me" Peter shrugged "Plus…I've been thinking up all the ways I can fuck up your life…maybe I will….maybe I wont…I don't know…exciting huh" the last words echoed out as he left and Nathan pressed his hand to his mouth, shaking his head in shock.
He picked up a phone and hot a few buttons, hesitating with his finger over the 'dial' button.
He stared after Peter, hearing the faint creak and clicks of the door to outside being opened and closed.
Closing his eyes he pushed the dial button and waited until some one picked up and simply asked "What do you need?"
"I need to have some one followed…he's unwell…I want to make sure he doesn't harm himself, or others" Nathan said quietly, unable to hide his guilt as he spoke "It's my brother…he just left my office…I need him to be controlled if he does anything…dangerous" he said, hanging up immediately and knowing that his own security team would move at once to follow his requests.
He stared at the spot where Peter had been sitting, shaking his head slowly, redialling the phone immediately.
"Hello?" his mothers voice was hoarse, as if she'd been stirred from sleep, which at this time of day was either a simple nap, or something Nathan should be concerned about.
"Mom…It's Nathan" Nathan stated.
"Oh" his mothers voice turned cold "What do you want?" she was still angry with him for what he'd done to Peter.
"I…needed to ask you…about Dad, when he got ill" Nathan asked cautiously, hearing on the other end of the line, his mothers faint sigh of resignation "Why Nathan, afraid of how it'll mess with your career-oh, wait, you already used it to your best advantage, what else can you possibly want to know?" she asked sharply.
"No…" Nathan rubbed his face wearily "Look…did…did he ever have any…episodes? Like…periods when he acted out of character? Maybe even when it seemed like he was…some body else?" he asked her.
There was a pause on the other end of the line "Why do you ask?" he could hear a frown in his mothers voice.
Nathan stared out of the door again, feeling suddenly more tired than he had in a long time "It's uh…It's Peter"
Heroes