Disclaimer: Nathan isn't mine.
Nathan Petrelli could fly.
He woke up one morning knowing he could do this. His thoughts went something like this: Alarm clock, too early, wife still sleeping, campaign speech today about education, oh I can fly.
He didn't tell anyone about it.
That would have been suicide right there for his campaign. And Nathan Petrelli wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his campaign. Even if he could fly.
It made him giddy sometimes thinking about it. Who didn't want to be able to fly? It was man's greatest dream, the ability to fly, unaided, out in the clouds with the birds, nothing between you and the rest of the world.
He flew sometimes, in the house, when no one was around. Just to grab something from the top shelf. So much easier than hauling a chair over. Or to change lightbulbs. That was useful.
Sometimes he thought about telling his brother about it. His brother would certainly appreciate it. But Peter would appreciate it too much. He would get all giddy in public and demand that Nathan fly at all the wrong times. That Nathan rescue children from burning buildings.
That's what firemen were for. Not flying would-be congressional candidates.
Though it would be good for his image. Rescuing children from a burning building.
It wouldn't last long though.
They'd put him in some sort of mad scientists' lair and poke and prod him. His life would never be the same.
Sometimes he wished that he couldn't fly.
Sometimes, in the dead of the night, he flew, laughing to himself.
Please R&R!