Elegy
There's Always a Reason
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This is my first Heroes story so if there are any questions, comments, or criticisms: please review!
Summary: He was put away so he wouldn't hurt anyone, but now he's the only one who can save them all. AU for Season Finale.
Peter flexed his hand, seeing it tighten and curl into a fist with only the slightest of tremors. It had been six weeks since Monty had taken him out of Isaac's studio. He had brought Peter to a hotel in the Bronx where Peter had spent the time recuperating. It had been frustrating to say the least. Monty had had to carry him outside to the waiting taxi. Peter couldn't have stopped him or called out for help if he tried. Thank God, Monty seemed to be one of the good guys.
Peter had wanted to sleep forever after finally making it to the hotel, his neck not even able to support the weight of his own head, but Monty had cajoled him into a reclining chair and bustled around him – giving him IV fluids; tucking a blanket around his worn hips when he began shivering; and placed warm moist towels on his arms and legs. Slowly afterwards, Peter drifted off.
Ever since that first night, Peter had been slowly building up his strength again with resistive exercises and therapeutic bathes. However, he still had no idea how he had ended up in Isaac's apartment. The last thing Peter remembered was being in Kirby Plaza with Nathan desperate about not blowing up. Then he was looking up at a man floating above his head telling him that he had come to rescue him.
He supposed that he should come to anticipate, even expect these things by now.
Peter sighed and got out of his chair – still wobbling slightly; damn it - and walked over to the window. They were in the penthouse on the top floor and the view was beautiful. New York actually seemed to be cleaner than before, though Peter never would have mentioned the thought out loud. He swallowed back a lump in his throat. He missed Nathan; he missed his home; he missed his life as crazy as it had become. He would give anything to see Claire's sweet smile, or Hiro's goofy grin. Hell, he wouldn't mind hearing Noah Bennett's cold calculating voice once more.
Peter leaned his hand against the glass, the rest of his body following. Every molecule was yearning to leave, to fly away. His powers hadn't returned yet, but when questioned, Monty said it was only matter of time. Monty hadn't said much else though. He refused to answer any question Peter asked him. Instead he just smiled and told Peter that it would be a lot of information to absorb and that he needed to concentrate on regaining his strength first.
Peter thudded his fist lightly against the thick glass and to his surprise the glass shattered underneath his hand. Peter flailed forward, falling into the air. He twisted frantically as he fell, trying to will himself to fly, but whatever ability had suddenly appeared, had disappeared just as quickly taking everything else with it. Speeding downwards, Peter eyed the street below. It was filled with people and Peter's stomach twisted; people were going to die if he hit the ground. Please, no; not again.
Suddenly a blur swooped underneath him.
Nathan, Peter thought.
The blur – Nathan – looped his arms under his head and legs and flew him back up to the broken window. As the wind rushed through his hair, Peter could hear the shouts of the people below him and he felt an instant of panic – Nathan didn't want anyone to know, but Peter soon realized that they were probably too far up for anyone to make out their faces.
The man landed on the ledge, carefully setting Peter down and Peter whirled around, almost slipping on the shattered glass to see him. It wasn't Nathan. Standing before him in a dark business suit was a thirty-something dark haired man. He…he had Nathan face. His darkly disapproving face and outgoing stance, but-
"Peter!" Behind him, Monty ran into the room, holding a cloth. "What happened?"
"Who the hell is this, Monty!" The man suddenly barked out, pushing back Peter to stand in front of the younger man.
"I-" Monty suddenly looked conflicted. "It's-"
"Oh don't bother lying, Monty!" The man hissed, "You brought him back, didn't you? You realize that you might cause the apocalypse!"
"It's not like that. He's not like what people think." Monty yelled back. Then he walked past him towards Peter. "What happened?" Monty asked him. "Are you alright?" he whispered softly as if trying not to surprise a frightened animal.
"Oh he's fine." The man snapped, "He broke the window and fell out. He broke a five inch glass window with his hand. He's real safe."
Peter backed away from the two men as the two men began arguing in earnest. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, calming himself. Then he opened his eyes. "Simon, Monty, stop it, both of you." he said calmly.
Both men turned back towards him. "How did you-" Monty started.
"I'm your uncle." Peter said tiredly. "I helped raise you. There's no way I'd forget the way you looked; the way you spoke; or," Peter smirked, "or the way you two fight."
Both men looked at him, Simon irately and Monty contritely. "Peter," Monty began, "I'm sorry I didn't-"
"How long have I been gone?" Peter interrupted, leaning against the wall. "Decades, probably? Well," he suddenly snapped, "how long?"
Simon was looking at him cautiously as if he might blow any minute and well, who knew, he might. "It's been about twenty years since you were put away."
"Put away?" Peter questioned.
"To sleep." Monty piped up. "You can't really die, but keeping an object in your brain that separates the brain stem keeps you in a dead-like state." Monty hesitated, "No one was sure if you'd wake up after this long, but I had to try. It…it wasn't right."
Suddenly, Peter's legs gave out beneath him and he sank to the ground. "Twenty years?" he breathed, "I've been gone twenty years?" Peter shook his head in confusion. "Why?"
Simon looked at him. "You weren't safe. You almost blew up New York City, Unc- Peter. Father - Nathan decided it would be best." Simon answered, ignoring Monty's hissed, "Shut up, you ass."
"Nathan?" Peter said weakly. Part of him was howling with rage he couldn't quite express, old habits keeping his mouth shut in front of his young nephews. And yet, his nephews were older than him now and how could Nathan do this to him. Weren't they family, no closer than that – they were brothers. Couldn't Nathan have…have done something else - given him a second chance, he wanted to scream.
But another part, the part that had always thought that Nathan was always right; the part that really didn't trust himself, that truly thought Nathan superior to him in every way was secretly glad that Nathan had locked him away. He had taken the decision out of his hand however grossly incompetent the decision made was. Even now, a part of Peter wished that he could be put back to sleep; he couldn't hurt anyone that way and there was no worrying about controlling his powers.
Nevertheless, that was a very small part of him. Every other particle was screaming out for life.
"So…" Peter hesitated. "What now?"
Simon frowned. "We put you back." And then with a glare at Monty, "And hope that no one finds out."
Peter gaped at the man – his nephew and then made an aborted move back towards the open window before his legs gave out again. "No." he said from his position on the ground. "You're not putting me back."
"Yes, we-"
"Simon, seriously, shut up." Monty nudged his brother and lilted his head towards Peter's hands and upon seeing them, Simon fell silent but frowned deeper. Peter looked at his hands and saw that in his anger he had clutched the carpet and was pulling up tufts of it. It seemed this super strength thing was really on-off. He couldn't get up, but he could pull out carpeting.
Lovely.
"We're not putting you back." Monty repeated firmly. Then he added embarrassedly. "We need you."
"You need me?" Peter questioned.
"Yeah well, Sylar-" Monty started.
"Sylar!" Peter exploded, "He's dead. Hiro killed him!"
Simon shook his head. "We never found the body, but when we went public with our powers no one wanted to let the non-specials know that there was a serial killer on the loose. We already lock up those with powers that are too dangerous and the world is still on the brink of war."
"You're locking up people with abilities?" Peter asked, sickened.
Simon huffed. "Not everyone. Monty and I are still around, aren't we? Only the dangerous ones; the ones who can't control their powers."
"Like me." Peter muttered darkly.
"Exactly like you." Simon shot back. "We had a kid that asphyxiated his entire class. Killed them all."
Monty shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Only you could be happy about sending an eight year away to be locked up and studied."
"Oh Monty grow up," Simon snapped, rounding on him. "You might be frittering away your life nursing, but some of us are where the action is and let me tell you that it isn't looking good. The world is taking sides, Monty. With the specials or against them. A world war is coming and if the States fall, then that's it. We'll lose. We'll be persecuted everywhere. There's already a contingent rallying to get Dad thrown out of office and our rights are getting smaller and smaller. They find out about someone with Peter's abilities or god forbid, Sylar then we're through."
"But that's just it," Monty said in a smaller voice, "Peter's the only one who can take on Sylar. If he beats Sylar then Dad can continue his work in peace and the world won't turn."
"Oh really," Simon said doubtfully, looking at Peter.
"Shanti dreamed it." Monty insisted, "She's too young to understand it, but she said that the brain man would be both our savior and our demise. His life must be our demise and his death should be our salvation. And she said that Peter-" Monty stopped embarrassedly. "Sorry," he said turning to Peter, "Shanti said that I shouldn't tell you this yet."
Peter closed his eyes again, head spinning with all the new information. "Well, one thing's for sure. I can't go back." At Simon annoyed snort, Peter added, "I'll keep a low profile, but I…I…" Peter struggled to word what he felt and then finished: "I just can't let the world go to crap. I'm a hero."
Simon rolled his eyes sullenly but didn't disagree and Monty nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Peter, thank you so much. You…might have to back under afterwards, but-"
"Monty," Simon interrupted dryly, "You do not tell someone that you're going to lock them away after they've finished doing you a favor."
"I'm not going to let him go into this with his eyes closed. He needs to know exactly what he's getting into. He could die or get-"
"He can't die!" Simon snapped, exasperated.
"Boys," Peter interrupted. "It's okay. Really." he added at their disbelieving looks. "Whatever's best." Peter carefully tucked away his anger at being a tool, a device; at being locked away for decades; and at Nathan and everyone else. He'd need it later. And besides anger was dangerous. "So," he continued, deceptively lightheartedly, "Are we going to see Nathan?"
"God no." Simon muttered, "He'd flay us both alive." Simon looked at him appraisingly. "You and Monty will go to Mohinder's. He runs a center for those with abilities. You'll need some training before you take on Sylar. He's got twenty years on you now and besides, you may be able to pick up some information on where he is at the center." Then he turned back towards Monty. "I'll throw Dad off the trail, but he's going to find out soon enough, after he arrives at the center.
Monty ran his hand though his hair and sighed. "Yeah thanks."
Peter stared at the two men and then looked away as tears burned at his eyes. The look that Monty sent Simon…they were brothers – close at that. Anyone could tell from the intimacy and love in that one glance. The love of a younger brother to the older one. Nathan and he could never have that again. Not only were they years more apart in age, but after what Nathan had done – killing him would have been better, instead of just keeping him as some back-up weapon. What was Nathan planning on doing with him? Would he have brought him out when the world went to shit and war broke out? Would he have had to fight like some robot? Nathan wasn't above using his family for political gain, Peter remembered bitterly.
"Where is he?" Peter asked suddenly, "Where's Nathan?"
Simon shrugged, obviously forgetting that Peter had missed out on the past twenty years. "Where else? The White House. He's been the president for the past six years."
To Be Continued…
