10 days later...

He phased through the floor of the living room, which was directly above the basement, but after phasing He didn't have the strength to float and cushion the drop. He landed back first on the ground with a loud thud, followed by a low groan. Luckily He managed to keep a hold of the precious arm full of medication in his arms.

He slowly pried his eyes open to be met with three sets of eyes; Nathans', Claires', and Mohinders'. They were all staring at him with concern, the levels varying from great to little, the same with confusion. He had a new coat on, a different one then he went out with. But what really baffled and worried them was the blood tracks underneath the new coat, and three large scrapes in unison on his left cheek.

"What happened?" Nathan finally asked. Mohinder took the supplies from Peter's half frozen arms and pulled them away to their half storage area. "Wolves." Peter gasped, his voice filled with pain. "How come you didn't heal?" Claire asked incredulously. They had the same powers after all, and her's hadn't shown signs of weakening lately. But then again she hasn't been injuried severely as of recently. "It's a slower process in cold..." Peter offered a suggestion, grunting as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Let me Help you." Nathan said suddenly, reaching for the collar of Peter's coat and beginning to tug at it. Peter cringed as the coat was peeled off him, and his injuries were shown to extent. His elder brother couldn't suppress a gasp as the coat he had originally was drenched in blood, and riddled in tears. The entire left sleeve was removed, revealing a slowly healing mangled left arm, several large chunks of muscle and skin missing. Nathan was amazed that he was able to keep a hold of the medications with an arm in that condition. Peters back was littered with scrapes and claw marks. His right hand was missing three fingertips, but it suggested that much of the part had been just freshly regrowned.

"Peter..." Nathan knelt down next to him, not sure what to do for him. There wasn't much he could do for his younger brother, except wait for the healing power to take its full effect. "I got what I could for Heidi and Monty." He said gruffly, pulling himself to his feet before Nathan could protest to it.

He stumbled over to Mohinder, Nathan and Claire closely following him, half expecting the sponge to crumple to the ground and stay down. "One of these should save them..." He muttered quietly to Mohinder, then moved closer to the fireplace. He passed Simon, Molly, and Matt who were engaged in a lengthy game of Monopoly. They stopped and watched him pass, shock written all over their faces at his injuries.

Peter moved passed the couch, pausing just slightly at the shivering mother and son restlessly sleeping there. He gave them a small hopeful smile then moved on to the corner where a cushion of blankets were, where he slept. He knelt down and rolled over into the entanglement and wrapped himself within it, quickly falling into a pain-filled exhausted sleep. Everyone who was still awake watched him carefully as he did this, and then went on with their affairs, figuring he'd be as good as new after some sleep, he always was.

Mohinder filled with the bottles of medication, reading the labels and looking for the ones he needed. After deciding on that he took two of the syringes, and filled them with the medication, and traveling over to the nearly dead Monty and getting to that point Heidi. Nathan followed Mohinder, hovering over his shoulder, one concern exchanging for another in an instant. The indian doctor knelt down to the couch and pulled back the four layers of blankets on the mother and child. He then put one syringe in his mouth to hold onto as he rolled up Monty's sleeve to reveal an almost deathly pale skinned arm. He pricked the boy and injected the liquid quickly, then repeated the same process to Heidi.

They were not offically sure what they were sick with, but they had been trying different medications, what Peter could get on his trips outdoors. The four injections of other antibotics before this had no affect. The fifth one didn't affect Heidi, but seemed to quickened the disease's progress in little Monty. They had to find a cure soon, or he would die within days. Mohinder hoped this would be it, but all they could do was wait now.

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Peter sat up quickly, gasping for breathe. A thin layer of cold sweat layered his face. A nightmare that was so horrid that it was expelled from his mind so quickly that when he tried to remember it, it was just out of his grasp. He looked over himself, and found all his injuries from the wolf attack were gone, leaving only the blood remaints.

After he calmed his breath he glanced around the dimly lighted room. Mohinder, Matt and Moly were all curled one another, sleeping near the fire. He could see Claire near them, her face sticking out underneath a mound of blankets near the other small tribe in the corner. Nathan was sleeping sitting up, leaning against the couch where his wife and son were. Simon was nestled into his side. Peter crawled slowly over to the couch to check the conditions of his sister-in-law, and nephew in particular.

Monty looked worse, if that were even possible. His face was chalky white and his lips a pastel blue. He also noticed the lack of movement, even the shiver was gone. Peter felt his heart begin to crack then, as he shakily placed two fingers on the boy's neck. He closed his eyes and searched for a pulse.

1 second... 2 seconds... 30 seconds... 1 minute...

He felt tears prick his eyes and begin to fall slowly. Monty was gone. As his arm dropped down to his side. He opened his eyes slowly and glanced towards his elder brother. Nathan was looking directly at him, with a look that startled Peter to the core. It was of complete sorrow.

The first time Peter saw Nathan cry was when Meredith died, though he didn't understand what had happened at the time. And the second time was when his youngest son, Monty, passed. Peter looked down to the floor, utterly speechless.

"I don't want Simon to see his brother like this." Nathan whispered in a monotone voice, void of all emotion.

"Where should I take him?" Peter was very careful not to use 'his body' or anything similar to that. Nathan sighed. "You remember where Dad was buried right?" He asked quietly. "Of course, Nathan..." Peter said almost defensively. How uncaring did Nathan think he was towards his deceased father. "The exact spot?" Nathan prodded again. Peter nodded. "Take him there, When this storm is over, We...We can have a proper...funeral for him." The last part Nathan choked up a little, almost as if he remembered it was his youngest son they were talking about.

"Okay."