Five Reasons for Love – Chapter 1
Because Nathan was his first word.
Nathan was fifteen when Peter was three. Despite the horror stories Nathan had heard from his friends about babies crying and fussing, Peter had amazingly been a quiet baby who cooed and gurgled more than he cried, and even when he did cry, it was usually just a soft sobbing until someone picked him up and cuddled him a bit. Nathan couldn't say that he particularly loved or hated his brother. His father disliked Peter that was for sure. Over the years, Nathan had picked up enough overheard lines in arguments to understand that Peter had been unplanned...an accident, as his father often said, and one his father believed would put the Petrelli family to shame. Peter was too different. Peter didn't belong in their family. He was too gentle, hugged and cuddled too much, too sensitive...too free. His Mother allowed Peter to be the way he was, his Father hated it. Nathan didn't care. Now growing into his teenage years, he had his own life to worry about, and hardly had time to pay any attention to his baby brother. Even so, Peter adored Nathan, and everyday, as soon as Nathan came home, he would be greeted by a bumbling Peter latching onto his leg. His desk would be covered in crayon drawings even after he had told Peter he didn't want them for the thousandth time. And Peter's favorite game was to follow Nathan everywhere around the house whenever he managed to escape from his maid, much to Nathan's annoyance.
"He thinks you're his hero," his Mother had told him when Nathan had complained to her about Peter following him around.
"It's annoying Ma! I need my space!" he had retorted, before lifting Peter onto a chair and ordering him to "Sit" like one would a pet dog. Peter pouted slightly, before thinking it was a game and happily gurgling out some incoherent words, clapping his hands in joy.
"And why can't he talk anyways?" Nathan had scoffed, "He's three!"
"You brother will talk when he's ready," his Mother had answered curtly, before getting up and leaving the room. Nathan turned back in resignation to his baby brother, only to see Peter grinning widely back at him. "Nananana..." he gurgled again, before laughing to himself in glee. Nathan sighed.
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The fact that Peter still hadn't said his first word at age three particularly bothered Nathan's father, who was convinced that Peter was retarded in some way. This only made him further dislike his younger son, especially when his reprimands were met by baby babble and giggles. It took until one such incident to reach a crescendo for Peter to finally start talking. That day, Nathan had arrived home from school to find no Peter latching onto his leg. Slightly surprised by this, but all the while taking it as a blessing, Nathan had crept up as quietly as he could to his room, hoping that maybe he could avoid his baby brother altogether. It was only when he was about to unpack his bag that he had suddenly heard his father's angry shouts coming from the study. This shocked Nathan, because as far as he knew, his normally controlled and cool father never shouted. A few moments later Peter's scream and a following cry could be heard. Leaving his books unpacked, Nathan dropped his bag in haste, running to the study, only to stop at the door trying to comprehend the scene before him.
The normally pristine study was a mess, torn paper having been thrown, landing at various piles, crayons scattered. In the middle of the mess, his father had one hand pushing his baby brother over a chair, his free hand brandishing his belt, the metal buckle dangling viciously at the end.
"You useless...you do not...do not come into this study..." his father was shouting, before swinging the belt, striking hard against soft flesh. Peter screamed again, before breaking into incessant sobs. Nathan felt his breath hitch. Never before had he seen his father this angry before, and even though his father had always been a disciplinary, Nathan was positive his father had never actually struck him before. He wanted to speak up, but words failed to form in his throat. Another swing, and Peter's sobbing grew heavier, before large tearful brown eyes met his. A sickening thwump as metal met flesh sounded once more, and Nathan heard it. Amidst his baby brother's heavy breathing and sobbing, an almost pleading cry.
"Nathan...Nathan...Nathan..."
Nathan dared himself to listen harder...did he...did Peter just yell his name?
"Nathan...Nathan..." the word was becoming more distinctive as Nathan saw Peter shut his eyes tight and screamed it for his life, "Nathan...Nathan..."
"Dad, stop..." Nathan finally spoke up, causing his father to stop the attack when he realized his elder son was watching.
"I...He...He drew all over my contracts with Linderman...He..." his father attempted to explain shakily. Upon seeing Nathan, his father seemed to finally realize his actions, and the belt dropped out of his hand, the buckle clanging loudly on the floor, as if a reminder of its vigor.
"Dad...he's...Peter...he's talking," Nathan stated instead, and both of the elder Petrellis stood in silence, listening intently to the younger Petrelli's cry even as it became weaker and weaker.
"Nathan...sob...Nathan...sob...Nathan..."
Nathan looked up at his father, unsure, and somewhat afraid of the man. Now released from his father's grip, Peter's sobs became less and less, and he slowly pushed himself onto the floor and into the corner. His eyes stared sadly at Nathan, as if wanting him, though not quite daring to go to him whilst his father was still in the room.
A few more moments of silence with the odd sob from Peter later, Nathan's father seemed to have calmed down.
"I need to make a few important phone calls," he briskly informed Nathan, before neatly stepping over the mess on the ground and making his way to the door. Just as he walked passed Nathan, he grabbed at the golden star pinned to Nathan's school shirt.
"Class Captain again?" he asked. Still recovering from the shock of what had just transpired Nathan numbly nodded. His father gave him a pat on the shoulder and a half smile. "Take him to your Mother for me will you?" he requested finally, before walking away. Nathan nodded halfheartedly, and waited for the footsteps to disappear before making his way over to Peter, who had now huddled into a small ball in the corner. Nathan reached out intending to do as his father told him, take Peter to his mother. To Nathan's surprise, as soon as he touched Peter, his baby brother's arms flung fiercely around his neck, and wet tears buried into his shirt.
"Nathan..." Peter spoke again, small hands clutching tightly onto Nathan's shirt, wrinkling the ironed press. Nathan allowed his own arms to softly wrap around his brother, before lifting him up as he stood.
"Come on, let's get you to Mom," he told the sobbing baby, but Peter gripped tighter and shook his head. "Nathan," he said once more, "Nathan."
For once, even with that one simple word, Nathan seemed to understand his brother. Peter wanted him at this moment, and no one else. And Nathan gave in, carrying Peter to his room.
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An hour later, Peter still lay in Nathan's arms, the sobbing finally ceased for good, replaced by more relaxed sounds of deep breathing.
"Nathan," he whispered once more, dreamily, as he fell asleep in his brother's arms. Nathan sneaked a peek at his baby brother snuggly nestled into him, his head resting peacefully on the crook of Nathan's own neck. Feeling the warmth emanating from Peter on his physical skin, warmth also crawled into Nathan's heart. Almost unconsciously, Nathan rested his lips onto his baby brother's hair and kissed him.
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