By Vixen
"Nathan," Peter slammed at the bars that formed his new prison, while his brother looked in on him. Having woken up moments ago to find himself trapped in this underground jail, he was still disoriented. His foggy mind remembered the drugs they had pumped into his arm. Rubbing the spot where the needle had slid into his skin, Peter angrily asked, "What is this? What's going on?"
"I gave you ample opportunities to stop messing around with my campaign," Nathan explained. The expression Nathan wore was colder than Peter would have imagined possible, mixed with the lofty air of the calm and collected politician. "I gave you money, gave you a job, gave you that plane ticket to India so you could go off gallivanting around the world to search for your answers." He spoke the last word dismissively, as if the answers his brother sought were nothing more than the imaginings of an insane man. "But you couldn't let it go, you just had to get me involved in your little crusade."
Nathan produced a copy of the New York Times, the one with the 'Politician's Brother Says Attack Is Imminent' headline. He held it up to the bar, to give Peter a good look. "I can not have loose canons like you mucking around in the works, ruining my political career like that. I've worked too hard to get where I am today and I will not allow you to continue this ridiculous quest to save the world from some nuclear attack that'll never happen."
Peter shook his head, "You're wrong. The cheerleader--"
"Does not exist," Nathan finished. "And after today, you don't either. I've already sent my team out to make it look like you had a car accident. They happen all the time, no one will think twice. Even if they try to investigate, I'm sure I can find the right people to bribe in order to keep them from finding anything too revealing."
"What about Mom? How do you think she's going to handle losing one of her sons, especially after Dad's death. It'll destroy her."
"Always thinking about other people," Nathan almost smiled. "That's one of the things I'm going to miss about you, Petey. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll be able to cover the few therapy sessions she'll need to get over your unfortunate death."
Peter's eyes were beginning to water as the full weight of the situation dawned on him. He wasn't going to get out of here, wasn't going to be able to talk some sense into his brother. The world may end without him and the others there to stop Hiro's predictions from coming true, but his own world had ended the moment he woke up here.
Pushing back the tears, he shook his head, "And to think I looked up to you. All my life.. all I ever wanted--" He stopped, letting the sentence and the desire for some kind of family kindness or recognition drift away. It was too late now, he finally fully understood what Nathan felt towards him. Finding his voice again, he asked, "So, what'll happen to me? What is this place?"
"You wanted to find your answers to what you are, well, now you can." Nathan told him, "It's a lab, Peter. They want to test your powers, figure out what makes you tick. I told them that you were displaying some pretty bizarre behaviors, what with the flying and all. They promised to keep everything hushed up as long as I paid a monthly amount for your care." He shrugged, "It's a small price to pay to get you out of my hair."
Absently, Peter rubbed again at the spot where the needle had been driven into his body. There would be more where that came from, more drugs and tests. He swallowed, beginning to pace the length of his tiny cell, knowing he was incapable of stopping what they would do to him. His brother had once warned him to be careful, told him that there were people out there who would lock them up if they knew what they were capable of. He never imagined Nathan would be working for them, delivering him into their hands.
"Good bye, Peter." The words came like a death sentence, cutting each of them off from the other. Nathan turned to leave but Peter reached out through the bars and grabbed his arm.
"Nathan, please, you can't just leave me here. I know I messed up," Peter's words were coming in a busy fury now, trying to get out all at once. In an effort to save himself, Peter began apologizing in vain. "I got your name in the paper and I just couldn't leave well enough alone. I just got excited by being special, you know. I thought this was my chance to be somebody. But if you get me out of here, I promise I'll never speak about it again."
Nathan simply reached for Peter's hand and untangled it from his suit jacket. "I already gave you chances, Peter. Many of them. This was the only solution left besides asking Linderman to make sure you had a real accident. You should be happy I didn't go with that plan, at least this way you're still alive, even if the rest of the world believes otherwise."
Peter watched his brother leave, heard the heavy metal door slam behind him and then sat down and waited. The cell walls seemed to push in on him, enclosing him in a cold oubliette where he would be left and forgotten by all except the lab scientists. He felt little and scared, with nothing to do but question why family meant so little to his brother and why winning meant everything.
He could hear footsteps down the hall, getting closer. They were coming for him, coming to stick more needles into him, examine him like he was nothing but an animal. He clutched his arms around his legs, hoping the footsteps would just pass by. Suddenly, being special didn't feel so great anymore.
-End-