A/N: This is the first fic whose chapter one actually made it online. Read, review, pimp it, and give me a bit of constructive criticism! I have no beta, and for that I apologize in advance. Hope you love it.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. HEROES is property of Tim Kring and NBC. I just do funky things with the characters.
~*~*~Peter~*~*~
I sit on the edge of the roof of my apartment building, staring down at the busy road below and wondering how the hell I managed to get to this point. Claire had seen it and it had all gotten so messed up, so blown out of proportion, so wrong. It's not supposed to be like this! I pick up a rock and lob it at the building across from me, giving an angry growl that only escalates in volume when the rock doesn't make it to the other building. I sit there, fuming, for several more moments before finally pushing to my feet. I need to go for a walk, to clear my head, to try to figure this all out. Where did we go wrong? Walking toward the door that will give me the stairs back to ground level, I let my mind wander back to the beginning of the winding path of fail that got me to where I am.
Flying. It all started with flying. Nathan was holding me in his arms, close against himself. His cologne was faint, all but lost in the scent of his sweat and expensive suit. I don't know what brand his fancy businessman suit was. I'm me. It's not like I can identify a brand just by the way it looks and smells! But I know that underneath it all was the comfortable scent of Nathan, and I was home. It took me back to that time so long ago when he held me in his arms in his bed after a long night of sweat and tears. I remember snuggling back against him and falling asleep in his strong, warm arms with him whispering sweet things and telling me he loved me.
We landed behind a diner, and I had been about to demand to know what Nathan had just done when I heard screaming a few deserted alleys over. I took off running as fast as I could, but it wasn't fast enough to save her. The top of her head was off to the side and there stood a tall, dark man with chunks of what appeared to be brain matter and blood, just standing there, staring at me. No, not me. He was staring at her, like he'd just eaten the most delicious meal he'd ever tasted. He bowed at the waist, grinning like a madman and flashing bloodstained teeth, with canines that appeared sharper than most normal people's. "Thank you," came the unnamed man's voice, smooth as silk and dripping with malice, "for your power and patience."
Eyes black as coal then cut to me, boring into my own brown eyes as if they could see right to my very soul; perhaps they could. My heart rate picked up, my breathing quickened, and my eyes tightened around the corners when he gave a dark chuckle. "I'll be coming for you next, Peter. Be waiting for me." His words should have scared me, should have chilled me to the bone, and they did, but only because my mind was racing with thoughts that he couldn't have possibly intended.
I went home that night and collapsed in my bed without eating. There's no real food at my apartment anyway, just mustard and syrup, so it's not like I could've eaten if I wanted to. My stomach was churning, my body's reaction not matching up with the disgust and terror in my head. I couldn't have heard him properly. Had he said "Thanks for your ability?" There were other people like Nathan, who could do the things he could do, rather than my big brother just being some kind of political freak? Somehow, that just wasn't a very relieving thought at all. Part of me knew absolutely that seeing the nameless zombie man again would mean that someone else had died, but I couldn't bring more than a small part of myself to be scared of him. With another frustrated sigh, I rolled to my side to sleep, hoping that I could get some before work in the morning.