Day Gone Awry

Genre: Friendship/Family

Setting: One month after season 2 finale, alternate outcome.

Summary: Sometimes in Nathan's life, things go awry. But regardless if they're everyday trifles or real pains in the neck - Peter's the one to straighten them out.


"Excuse me, but can I help you?"

Peter started slightly where he stood with his hand raised to knock, then turned to face the woman. According to her nametag, she was a secretary.

"No thanks, I was just going to..." He pointed at the door to the head of the department's office.

"I'm sorry, but he's not available at the moment – he's out on a business meeting and won't be back for another two hours. Is there something I should tell him?"

"No, I'll…" Irresolute, the young man stood by the door. "I come back later if that's okay".

"Good. Have a nice day!"

Outside the office building Manhattan's concrete streets basked in the spring sunshine, and cumulus clouds drifted across the sky like a flock of white geese. It was mild for the month, and Peter decided to walk instead of to teleport home. In his situation of today as a shift working paramedic and superhero, he could finally use his time in a way that felt meaningful.

Despite this a twinge of guilty conscience ran through him at the thought of time and teleportation. Almost maliciously his mind dug up memories of Caitlin - was she still trapped in the Shanti-infected, alternate future? It was partly because of guilt feelings towards her he currently wasn't seeing someone new. The past four months still felt like taken from a wild dream, and he wasn't completely sure yet if he had liked it.

Well at home again Peter hung up his jacket in the hall and settled for eating lunch. He had just begun to rinse his plate after the meal, when the doorbell rang. With a sigh he closed the tap, dried his palms and went to open. Surprisingly, though in a pleasant way, it was Nathan who stood outside the door - unexpected. since he should be at work this time of day.

"Hello, bro".

"Hi, it's good to see you!" Peter's face lit up and he tried to hand out a one-armed hug, but was stopped by a declining gesture from his brother. "What, have you've grown too old for hugs now, huh?"

"No, but listen - you don't happen to have any liniment at home, do you?"

The paramedic replied to the somewhat unexpected question with a headshake.

"Neck-shoulder-exercises, then? Or acupuncture needles? I can put them in place myself, if it's necessary". Sighing tiredly, Nathan made a vague gesture towards his neck. Peter finally realized that the tilted way the attorney held his head wasn't part of any body language.

"Ouch, got a wry neck?"

"Does it show?" It was a sarcastic remark, but it only amused Peter. Placing an arm around Nathan's shoulders, he led the way into the living room where they sat down on the couch.

"So how did this happen?"

"Well it's a classic - I sat in the air draft from an open window, for some time even with a phone wedged in between my head and shoulder". The attorney was going to illustrate the way he had held the phone, but stopped at the smart it caused.

"And how long did you sit like that? In the air draft, I mean".

"All day. Took a break just now to refill my fuel depots".

"Really?" That didn't sound very likely to Peter. With a smile he carefully lifted his arm from his brother's shoulders. "I don't believe you've been at your desk all day".

The tilted head-position fit well to Nathan's frowning expression. "Why not?"

"Because I stopped by your work today - about an hour ago when I got off my shift - to say hello. But the secretary said you were away on a meeting, and wouldn't be back before three o'clock". Peter paused and looked at his watch.

"So why are you here then, half past one in the afternoon?"

"Well that's easy to explain. The whole thing got settled sooner than expected, and afterwards I decided to come by here".

"But where's your briefcase then?"

"I left it on the office on the way".

Peter wouldn't let the question be dodged that easily. "But weren't you at your desk all day, to begin with? If that's what caused the wry neck…"

"C'mon Pete, be a chiropractor and not a shrink for once". The tone was curt. The attorney pinched the bridge between his eyes as if trying to gather all thoughts between the fingers - a gesture only spotted when he was losing a case, a political debate, or right now, his patience.

"I don't think you've been neither on a meeting nor at the office," the paramedic informed him. "But at the other hand, I have no idea what you've been doing instead".

"Okay, so what I said might not have been exactly true, but why does it matter? It doesn't have anything with the neck pain to do".

"Because I'm wondering what you've been doing in that one hour that is so shady you can't even answer a casual question". Whilst speaking Peter rose from his seat and strode around the coffee table. A dry, dismissing snort of laughter came from the couch.

"What do you want to hear – that the torticollis occured when a mafia thug tried to wring my neck for old sins, but he only got this far before he punched out for the day?" None but a dummy could mistake the quip for veracity there. "Seriously, if I had done something dangerous during these hours it hadn't ended with just a crick in my neck".

"As a matter of fact, wry neck can be caused by anything from head trauma to antipsychotic drugs".

"I swear you've got too much time to sit at home and watch House…Ouch". Nathan winced slightly when Peter returned to lean forward and place both hands heavily on his shoulders.

"One month ago I sat in a hospital in Odessa, Texas and wondered if a certain close relative of mine would survive a serious gunshot wound. Earlier the same person was hospitalized for months after barely surviving a nuclear explosion – this was before he wound up with short-term depression and got drunk. Don't you think I should feel just a little worried about him afterwards?"

No need to figure who in the room felt stung and affected. Nathan rubbed his neck uncomfortably, seemingly realizing that to pain relief it was either Peter's way, or no way.

"So you want the truth?" He sounded reluctant. "I shirked from work".

"Mh, so much I had figured out by myself. But what did you do with this newfound spare time that you can't tell me about?"

"I flew".

Peter's face paused in a gape. "…You flew?"

"Yeah. I made up this excuse about a meeting, took the elevator up to the top floor and took off from there. I had paperwork and other business that should have been finished instead, but right then I couldn't care less".

"Nothing worse?"

Nathan shot him an incredulous glance. "What do you mean by 'nothing worse'? I left the office in a stupid whim to-"

"Of course I think it's kinda unjust of you to leave work and fly away while the others are stuck in the office for another three hours, but compared to what went through my mind – that your absence had to do with that you were running into trouble with Linderman's thugs, or slipping into alcohol use again…" Peter was relieved that his worst qualms hadn't come true.

"You worry too much, too. I drowning my sorrows in booze was a one-off that won't recur now when you're back in town".

"Thanks. But what if your superiors find out there was no actual meeting with a client?"

The answer came dead certain: "They won't. I've already thought of an alibi for it".

"Then I'll keep quiet, too". Peter sat down and replaced his arm around Nathan's shoulders again. It was strange, how only a few minutes ago this had been an interrogation scene, and now they had mutually agreed to keep the answer confidential. Perhaps it was the fact Peter couldn't imagine Nathan taking a flight during a normal workday; it was so rare, it had to pass.

"So it's at least partially true that the wry neck is due to air draft," he said after awhile.

"Heh, you could say that. I turned to see the vapor cloud that follows a sound bang, and then something in my neck said 'bang'".

"Of all possible side effects of flying at supersonic speed, you got a wry neck". The younger man had to laugh. "What made you do it during working hours, anyway?"

His brother smiled and shrugged, modestly not to stir the neck ache further.

"As I said it was just a sudden whim that came out of drabness, boredom…And the fact there are some great thermals today that will be gone by five PM".

Peter nodded, recalling the white cumulus clouds and warm sunshine over the city.

"Maybe it's not easy to return to work after a journey like ours. After these four months everyday routines suddenly feel like a too small a box to live in - at least that's my reason to get out and stop criminals in my spare time".

"You're saying that I got restless by coming back to my normal life?" Nathan glanced over at him, probably not impressed by the theses without any arguments.

"Rather got your appetite for the extraordinary whetted. C'mon, it was you who held the speech about all the amazing things you've seen the past months 'through newly humbled eyes'!" Peter leaned in closer. "I mean, if you had been just restless a walk would have been enough to cure it, but now you flew - how often have I seen you do that voluntarily?" He paused, anxiously waiting for the reaction. Had the guess been right, wrong, or nowhere near?

His brother seemed deeply lost in thought, resembling Rodin's 'The Thinker' where he sat. After what seemed to have been the longest moment of silence in Peter's life, he finally straightened and spoke.

"You know, sometimes I'm bound to believe that you know me better than I do". Nathan raised an arm to give Peter a quick pat on the shoulder, but flinched at the stab of pain that followed this sudden movement. Hissing he turned away and put a hand to his neck, grimacing.

"I should fix that for you now" Petrelli minor decided. After all the torticollis was the reason he had a visitor in the first place. Pulling his brother's hand away he examined the problematic area closely.

"You said you didn't even have any painkillers at home" the attorney reminded him.

"I think I still know a way to help this". Peter placed his free hand against Nathan's right temple. Truly he wasn't an educated chiropractor - but at the other hand, if this went wrong there was one only four blocks further away. And a paramedic within arm's reach.

"Just try to relax, though this may hurt… a tad". He flexed his arm muscles, catching his brother's eye. "On three, okay? One, two -"

The subsequent shout in pain was so short the birds on the building's roof didn't even lift. The old lady in the apartment below glanced briefly towards her ceiling, but then continued to vacuum the living room. During the two years she had known the kind young man on the floor above, he had never hurt anyone physically.

"Jesus…" The older Petrelli mumbled, controlling that his neck was still in one piece.

"Only his disciple Peter here". Said man sat back after the forceful treatment. "How do you feel?"

Nathan drew in a deep breath, cautiously turning his head from left to right as if he had a venomous spider inside the shirt collar. Doing so a couple of times, he concluded that Peter's method of forcing his head to turn in the direction of the torticollis had worked.

"Thank God" he sighed, and before Peter knew it he was pulled into a one-armed bear hug. "Thank you". It was a simple statement, but there was no mistake about the relieved gratitude in it. After a moment his brother let go.

"So", Nathan clapped his hands together once, quietly. Without a literal pain in the neck he was more like himself again. "What do I owe you for this gate-crash on American medical treatment?"

At first Peter wasn't going to demand anything back - he didn't want to, and couldn't come up with anything to ask for - when a possibility suddenly occurred to him.

"Remember that we have a race around the Statue of Liberty deposted?"

"It's kind of hard to forget a thing like that".

"I figured since you've been out flying anyway, maybe it doesn't matter if we fly some more".

To his brother's surprise, Nathan rose from the couch without protest and began to open the largest window in the living room.

"As long as we stay high above the city, I'm in" he told the puzzled Peter. "We've got yet another hour before I have to be back at the office".

"Hey, I'm the one who's supposed to be eager about this!" the younger man jumped up and went to get his jacket. When he returned to the living room, they placed one foot each on the low windowsill as if to tie their shoelaces. The duo exchanged a rogue glance.

"Just try not to look back this time - one wry neck is enough" Peter smiled.

"Okay, I'll give you a head start then". For this remark, Nathan earned a playful punch to the upper arm from his brother.

"Ouch. Careful with the convalescent!"

"I'm not that bad at this!"

A second later they stormed out through the open window and towards the speckled sky, under which Manhattan was becoming lackluster and grey again. 3000 feet above the ground their steep climb leveled out to two pin-straight contrails, and they whistled through the air like two bullets, jackets pressed flat to their backs and hair whipping around their faces. Peter glanced over at the silhouette some twenty meters to the left of him.

"Hey, stop smirking or you'll get bugs between your teeth!" He shouted jokingly. Nathan didn't reply, but instead made an air roll and waved to show that he got the hint. Now when he was back up here again, he absolutely knew why he had skipped work for a while.


A/N: Because like many others I've been charmed by the interactgion between the Petrelli brothers, and wanted to write a fanfic about them. Hope it was enjoyable, comprehensible and not too OOC. As always, comments and constructive criticism are very welcome.

Minor grammar changes done in November 2009

Now for some vocabulary:

(Name) minor and major - old British term for the younger and older of two brothers.