They talked about other things for a while, with Peter probing for details on some of the Company business he hadn't heard about. He was especially interested in the other groups. Nathan filled him in with what he could recall offhand.

After a few hours, Peter looked at his watch (it was still that "digital thing", Nathan noticed with annoyance) and said, "I need to get going pretty quick. I've got the midnight shift and with the sleet, I'm sure we'll have plenty of calls." He stood up and stretched, twisting his head back and forth. "Oh, one other thing. Come here."

Nathan had risen with him and now came around the desk.

Peter turned and pointed at his neck. "Look at this. You did this to me and this is a week old now. I've had people asking me questions, questions I shouldn't have to be answering."

Nathan reached up to touch the greenish spots, stroking his fingers over them lightly.

Peter looked back at the touch and caught sight of his expression. It wasn't displeased, which offended Peter. "Hey," he said. "You do not do this to me. Do you understand that? Nathan? Gabriel? Either one of you."

Nathan's eyes drifted to Peter's. He gave him a guilty smile and looked down, an odd look on his face. "I understand you. I won't do it again." He reached up to touch Peter's marks a second time. Peter resisted the urge to slap him away, since he didn't feel he was getting the reaction he should be, even if Nathan had said the right words. His brother drew him over and kissed his neck lightly.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked.

"Hopefully I'll never do this to you again. Let me enjoy it while I've got it." Nathan kissed a different spot.

Peter turned away, which was fine with Nathan since the bruises were mainly on the back of his neck. It hid the look of disgust Peter had. After another round of having his bruises fondled he pulled away, shaking Nathan off. "Don't… don't do that. That's creepy. It's not right. I don't like that. I don't like even thinking you get off on hurting me."

"I didn't get off from it. I don't want to hurt you. But I do want you to be mine."

Peter gave him a hard look. "I belong to me."

"Okay," Nathan looked at him mildly.

Peter was angry now. "What do you mean 'okay'?"

Nathan remained unruffled, but on the other hand he'd shown remarkable control over his emotions already tonight. Peter couldn't read him right now. Nathan said, "I mean I agree. You belong to you. You set the rules - I follow them. You don't like it rough. I'm sorry I hurt you. I should have… had that…" He blinked as if struggling to find the words. "…more in the forefront of my mind."

Peter stepped closer and looked him directly in the eyes. He wanted - he needed to feel he was getting through. "Do not mark me. I'm not yours. I'm with you because I want to be. I'm not going to be with anyone who doesn't treat me the way I want to be treated. Do you understand me, Gabriel?" He used the other man's name deliberately, because he knew this was not Nathan's fixation he was addressing. Nathan had never been violent in the least - a little pushy or insensitive at times, but never violent.

Nathan blinked at him slowly. "Don't call me that in this house." Somewhere behind his eyes Peter saw an unspoken threat.

Peter took a deep breath and considered what Nathan was saying, instead of reacting emotionally to his expression. It was Nathan's house and Nathan's life he was living here. Calling him Gabriel threatened that and regardless of his name, this family and the trust they'd placed in him was very important to him. Peter glanced around the room and looked back at him. "You've got a point. I agree. I won't. But do you understand? This is important to me."

Nathan nodded soberly and said, "I understand you." Very slowly and with great emphasis he said, "I won't do it again." Much as I might want to. After a beat he smiled and added, "You're mad at me."

Peter exhaled and stepped away from him, feeling he'd gotten through to the other man. "I'll get over it."

"No, no, that's not my point." Nathan sounded pleased. Peter eyed him. "You're mad at me. You haven't been comfortable enough with me to be mad for… a long time. Months maybe. Not since the party at the end of summer, really. You wouldn't be mad if you were still afraid of me." He paused and looked at Peter appraisingly. "You trust me."

Peter relaxed himself and rolled his shoulders somewhat. He looked at the ceiling. "Okay. Yeah, I do." Within limits, but it's a start. He hadn't thought about how careful he'd been in dealing with Nathan, how cautious he'd had to be. Now that he thought about it, getting in Nathan's face about something was quite a departure. Peter was comfortable with him. It seemed like a good description for it.

Nathan smiled warmly.

Peter shook his head. "I still have to go. I have work." And comfortable or not, he was still annoyed. Explaining to Emma had been the worst - or rather, not explaining. Everyone else at work had accepted his line about a drunk manhandling him at his mother's party. He opened the door to the study and walked into the hall.

Nathan followed him. "You know, Peter, if you ever need money-"

"It's not about the money. You know that. It never has been."

"I know. But the money's easy. What you're doing is harder."

Peter smiled at him and put on his coat. He glanced up the staircase towards the master bedroom. "Keep an eye on Heidi. Call me if anything happens. I'll drop everything. Okay?"

Nathan nodded. Picking up his first aid bag again, Peter headed out.

XXX

Nathan knocked around downstairs for a few minutes, thinking over the conversation. He was amused that Peter was miffed about the bruises. He wouldn't do it again for that reason - he didn't want Peter to be angry with him. He'd really loved seeing them there though, a tangible sign they'd been together. It made him smile.

The house seemed awfully quiet. He leaned against the banister and listened. Very faintly, he could hear his sons sleeping, strains of music concealed in their every breath and pulse of heartbeat. He'd discovered that here at the base of the stairs he could hear most of the house. The acoustics were best there. He cocked his head and started up the stairs. He couldn't hear anything else.

He walked in the master bedroom. "Heidi?" She wasn't in bed. In fact, the bed was undisturbed. At this hour, in her condition, she should be in bed even if she was only resting or dozing. He and Peter had been talking for hours. He looked in the bathroom, but his blood had already turned to ice water. He knew it was empty. "Heidi?" There was no answer.

He walked back into the bedroom and stood there for at least a full minute, unable to think. There was nothing out of place, like she'd never made it to the room. Out of nowhere the thought came to him that maybe she'd come downstairs earlier to get something from the kitchen and then stayed there to give them privacy.

He walked out of the room and didn't bother with the stairs. He vaulted the railing and flew down to land roughly on the ground floor. He staggered on landing as if he'd fallen as much as he'd flown, wondering distantly why that was. He pushed open the kitchen door, but she wasn't there either. Her purse was sitting on the shelf where she usually kept it when she was home. He called out, nearly shouting, "HEIDI!" There was no answer. He put his forehead to the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. I should have kissed her before she went upstairs.

Methodically, he searched the rest of the house, even sneaking into his son's rooms, checking closets, the attic, the garage and crawlspaces. He was glad the boys didn't know. He'd already made contingency arrangements for full-time care for them for two weeks. He'd told the nanny and Heidi it was for him to help her with the baby, but he knew it was so he could recover, at least a little, from the loss.

He collapsed into the chair in the parlor. He pulled out his phone and stared at it. It was too late to call the nanny. He'd do it in the morning. He couldn't leave to sulk or mourn on a bridge or watch the clouds. He needed to stay in case one of the boys woke. He dialed Peter.

His brother answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Pete." His voice sounded tired and drained even to himself. "They took her. It's over."

"What? What?" Peter sounded alarmed. Vaguely, it occurred to Nathan that he should be feeling something himself, but right now all he felt was resigned and empty.

He said numbly, "They took her. While we were talking. She's gone."

"Gone…?"

"They probably teleported. You said to call if… if anything… So. Good-bye." He hung up and rested his head on his fists, rocking it back and forth between them.

XXX

The doorbell rang and then after a long pause it rang again, but he didn't pay it any attention. When the pounding started on his front door, he finally got himself up and went to let Peter in. He didn't really want to talk to Peter, but he didn't want the knocking to wake his sons. He said nothing, just opening the door and walking off back to his seat.

"What happened?" Peter asked, pacing restlessly. He looked frantic.

Nathan fell in the chair again like a puppet with its strings cut. He didn't feel anything but hollowed out, like an animal that had been gutted, the most important part of himself torn away. "I went upstairs. She's not there. I searched the house. She's not here. She's gone. Taken. It's over."

Peter looked around the room. It seemed the same as it had been earlier, but somehow emptier now that he knew Heidi was missing. "Are Monty and Simon okay?"

Nathan nodded. "Slept through it."

Peter swallowed. Nathan went on, "I already have arrangements for them while I… pull myself together, if I can." He looked off to one side, his brows pulling together slightly in distress. "Two weeks. I should-" Something inside of Nathan snapped. He ended.

When Nathan didn't go on, Peter knelt next to him. "Nathan?" His brother kept looking off to the side, eyes unfocused. Peter pulled him forward into an embrace. He didn't resist, but he didn't respond either.

Finally Nathan patted him as if it were the younger man who needed comfort. "It's okay, Peter. It's okay." His voice sounded odd, like Gabriel's.

Peter leaned back for a moment and looked at Nathan's strained face. He wanted to rail at him that it wasn't okay and he knew it, but Peter just hugged him again. Nathan had never dealt well with losing loved ones. No one really did. Psychologically, Gabriel was much more resilient. When Nathan had remained wooden for some minutes, Peter moved to the couch. "We'll find her. You said the Company had Molly working for them. She can find Heidi, then we'll go get her."

The older man shook his head. His voice still didn't match his features, as if he was literally coming apart inside. "I don't want to find her. I've seen it, Peter. I don't want to see it… myself. She's dead. They're both dead by the time we get to them."

"No! No! Nathan…" Peter put himself in front of him, taking his chin and making him look at him. "That's just a possibility. We can change it. It doesn't have to happen that way."

Nathan blinked at him. "Pete… it does happen that way."

"No, it doesn't have to. We've saved the world before when everyone was predicting the end. New York didn't explode, the virus wasn't released, the world didn't break apart. We can do this. You've got to help me."

Nathan stared at him blankly, retreating inside his mind again. Peter pulled out his phone and walked away from him. He looked at it for a long moment, then back at Nathan. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have over the phone. He walked back to his brother and shook his shoulder gently until he looked up at him. "If I leave for a few hours, will you stay here?"

Nathan said, "I have to. Until the nanny can get here in the morning."

Peter nodded. "Good. I'll be back before then." He left.

XXX

The door to the Petrelli mansion was opened by his mother's bodyguard. The man looked about as annoyed as you could expect for being woken at midnight. Peter didn't bother with preamble. "I need to see my mother, now. Go tell her I'm here and I have to talk to her. It's an emergency."

That wiped the irritation off the big man's face. He went. Peter looked around the room. He had an odd feeling of being watched. He studied the room carefully. Although no one was there, he still felt it. He closed his eyes and thought. The other time he'd felt this was the moment before Nathan had looked out his apartment door, before Christmas, when he'd broken in. Peter had felt him before he'd seen him. He was feeling something here, but he was sure it wasn't Nathan.

His mother came out, tying her nightgown around herself. "Peter?" He looked at her and said nothing, trying to decide if it was safe to talk with the other presence in the room. He wasn't worried about the bodyguard, who had followed Angela out. She inhaled slowly at his silence. "It's happened then. I thought we still had a few weeks, maybe a month. There's nothing to be done now. I'm sorry."

Peter's eyes flashed. "No," he said. "We're going to find her. We're going to save her. You're going to help me. She's carrying your grandson."

Angela tilted her head slightly. She didn't need to speak to let Peter know she didn't share his point of view on the child's paternity. It was an odd attitude for her to take, given how much she facilitated Gabriel's impersonation of her son.

"Tell me where Molly is," he demanded.

"No."

"What?" he stepped towards her, reaching an open hand to her, his expression caught between pleading and outraged. "Ma! We'll find her."

"Peter, if I tell you, you're only going to risk yourself. This isn't something one person can do alone."

"I know that! That's why you have to tell me."

She looked at him intently, appraisingly. "You'll have to find Molly yourself. I'm not going to help you." Angela turned away and walked back to her room. The blond muscleman stood aside for her to pass and then stepped between her and Peter. Peter glared at him briefly, then turned on his heel and walked out.