I. "You have to promise," a five year old Peter says. A much older Nathan nods, smirking, and Peter jumps, and falls, and falls, and falls and slams into the ground going a million miles an hour.
Okay, so it was only three feet off of the monkey bars, but it feels like forever when he's brushing sand out of his eyes and spitting blood. He's embarrassed and pissed as hell and, true to fashion, accepting of all the blame.
"I told you jump out," Nathan lies, doubled over in laughter and then in pain as Peter places a well aimed kick into his brother's jaw. "What the fuck?!"
"Don't mess with me," Peter growls and Nathan is sure he sees his brother glow for an instant before he turns and stomps off. Shaking his head, Nathan leaves.
II. Ten years old today and Peter Petrelli feels like a little child. He looks like a little child: floppy hair, sallow skin, drooping lip. He feels like a little boy and his mother treats him like one.
He's having a birthday party and all of his friends are there, happy to see him, despite what a teenage Nathan says otherwise, and he says a lot otherwise.
Ten years old today and Peter learns about sex. He learns about it on accident when he goes upstairs and walks in on his brother fucking Meredith Gordon. From what he can tell, it's not very fun, because Meredith is groaning and Nathan is breathing really shallow but it goes on and on, in the same fashion, for about fifteen minutes, before Nathan stops moving and allows his head to fall back, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as Meredith lays there, bored and sweaty. Peter's jaw is lax and his pants are tight and all of a sudden he sneezes.
Ten years old today and Peter is still getting the shit beat out of him by his brother.
III. "I can fix this," Nathan says, his eyes wide with fear and panic but Peter just shakes his no. He's disgusted and hates himself and definitely doesn't want Nathan to fix anything right now. "Pete..."
"No. Just... no. I think I'm going to be sick..." And then Peter is puking and Nathan is crying steely crocodile tears that make Peter think that he almost, almost cares. But that's not the case. Nathan only cares about himself.
"I'm going to hell," he thinks as his body protests still. "I just had sex with my brother and I'm going to hell." His knees hit carpet and his forehead hits plaster and his stomach hits his feet. "I'm going to hell."
Then he's alone.
IV. "Heidi was in a car accident. We were in a car accident."
Peter stares at the phone like a snake and then hangs up on his brother.
He told them not to go out.
V. Peter is in excruciating pain as his body tears in to. Turns out exploding isn't fun, not at all. Nathan stands at his side, arms crossed, tears rolling from his eyes as he watches his brother die. Claire runs towards them before turning and running away as fast as she came. Isaac tugs Simone away, ducking behind something that Nathan cannot see. Niki is clutching Micah's dead body, sobbing uncontrollably as D.L. tries desperately to save what little piece of his family he has left.
"Please go," Peter screams, but Nathan shakes his head no and just stands there, the skin on his face beginning to bubble. The last thought Peter has is that he hates his brother for being so goddamn stubborn.
And the one way he did...
Peter laughed, punching his brother in the shoulder. Nathan grinned and pulled Peter into a headlock, kissing the top of his head.
"Wait for me!" Claire screamed, running and leaping onto Nathan's back, falling off as he staggered to support her weight.
"Good God, Claire. You're a house," Nathan teased, sweeping the nine year old up and over his shoulder. Peter watched Nathan traipse off with his niece and smiled. "Peter?"
"Peter!" With a start, Peter looked up. Claire and Nathan were both staring at him. "Are you okay?" Nathan asked. Peter smiled. Just a dream.
"Fine."