Application for Nathan Petrelli, from "Heroes"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

(( SPLOSION OF HEROES, OH NOEZ :0 Cut for spoilers, though there aren't many. Just to be safe! This has also been approved by all the Heroes muns ^^; ))

...This was where Peter had disappeared off to?

One thing was for certain - Hogwarts was a place in which Nathan Petrelli most definitely did not fit. For a man who had spent the last several weeks, months, God only knew how long, of his life dressed continually and almost solely in business suits and ties - no, really; he practically slept in Gucci by the end of that election - he most definitely did not fit in a school so... crackedcasual.

Even as he was striding into the room, he was loosening his tie, trying to appear as informal as possible with several hundreds of dollars of clothing on his back.


What a dump.

He didn't even know where to begin with this place. All stone walls and stark wooden furniture and, Jesus, this place looked straight out of medieval times or something. He was fairly sure he'd even passed a suit of armor on the way in. And a moving picture, but that... no. He'd seen more than he should have in the last few days - super strength, time stopping, people exploding - but damn if he was still chalking it up to his eyes playing tricks on him. Flying off from New York, all the way to Scotland, would do that to someone. It would.

Right. Down to business, huh? There was only a stack of papers on the table in view. No way to find Peter right off the bat and make his life, in general, so much easier, was there?

...No, of course not.


1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

"Cheese?" Nathan repeated aloud to himself, letting his eyes briefly search the room before settling back onto the paper. What the hell was this? "Jesus, what have I walked into?" he added in a mutter, fishing around for a pen in his inner jacket pocket and retrieving a clicky ballpoint, 'VOTE PETRELLI' inscribed in cheap silver across the side. They had so many of these stupid things left over. Nathan felt slightly ridiculous rising to that kind of level of narcissism in which he was writing with a pen with his own name on it. But what the hell.

Parmesan, he wrote without much more debate, and, really, there was no contest. Hey, he wasn't afraid of his sickeningly Italian love for the stuff on pasta.


2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

...Okay, his sons watched Barney. And... did anyone really watch Carrottop? Ever? Either way, that was just wrong. He was automatically thinking back to Linderman, the gun... God. He'd really rather NOT kill somebody unless it really came down to that level of necessity.

Carrottop, he scribbled down in nearly indecipherable chicken scratch anyway, as if he felt obligated to answer the question. For every time I had to watch that damn 1-800-COLLECT commercial.


3. What time is it where you are?

What kind of pointless questionnaire was this? He'd just wanted to grab Peter and get the hell out of here, and now people were asking him about the time. He glanced to his watch with a sigh, scrawling out the time with a frown. Time for him to shove this application right up the ass of whoever was responsible, was what.


4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Yeah, he couldn't help it with that question. "Married? Happily." Not that Niki Sanders would vouch for that, but... beside the point.

He left the question blank, with a roll of his eyes. Honestly.


5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.

Seriously. Did Peter make this crap up? Just to piss him off, wasn't it? "Fun and game time's over, Pete," he called out in a cautious sort of voice, to nobody in particular, eyes flickering dubiously away from the application. ...Yeah, he was alone. And probably going a little nuts too, now, at this juncture. Petrellis really did keep it in the family, huh?

Okay. Bar name. Right. Amuse the masses. Something he was uncomfortably used to.

Flying Man's

Nathan almost cracked a bit of a grin. Almost. Hiro was pretty flattering. Kind of cute when he did that. But, yeah, very much no.

Petrelli's? What the hell. Short. Sweet. To the point.


B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.

...This was some ploy to get him to finally spill his opinion on gay marriage, wasn't it? He'd won the election and he was still paranoid. Jeez.

This was hypothetical, right? Good.

Harry should... pick whomever he's happy with. Someone who makes him smile.

No comments about marriages, civil unions, anything that could be twisted around to make him out to be a homophobe or so far into the closet that he was seeing Narnia, posted in the Times the next day. Awesome


C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.

Because they didn't have a team of people hired to deal with crap like this, like he had? ...Possibly.

Invest in flamethrowers. Haha, so funny, Nathan. Talk about burning things when New York was nearly a pile of smoldering rubble only days ago. He actually winced, in wake of that thought. When your brother was all that had been left of that hypothetical wreck. Was nearly the cause of that wreck. Kidding. But I'd at least suggest a secretary.


D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

Because he could fly? Because his flying consequentially led to his keeping Peter from blowing everything up? Because he was part of the reason why Kirby Plaza wasn't said aforementioned pile of smoldering rubble? A million reasons. None of which he could use, not publicly.

Hey, I just got elected to Congress, he scribbled, simply, shrugging as he wrote. Landslide victory. Pretty damn impressive if I should say so myself.

And all without a single spot of ego.


6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.

They were kidding, right? Bribes. Not something he was unfamiliar with, naturally, but asking right-out for one was a totally different thing. Not that he had nothing to give, either. He had political power. He had connections in pretty high places. He was... fairly well off, financially. The picture of your friendly, neighborhood, political figure head.

Depends on what you're looking for.

At least it was open for interpretation.




"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. N.P.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. N.P.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. N.P.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ...N.P.?"

Comments

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Peter - still in the Sorting Room - hadn't even really heard the application to begin with. He'd been too busy emoing wondering if everybody back in New York was okay, talking to other people, and not really feeling all too great. He'd already absorbed at least five different new abilities, and those were only the ones he knew about. It took some getting used to.

He'd also spent a good amount of time feeling rather guilty over the clothes he'd borrowed from the house elf. They'd been okay, and now they were riddled with stab holes from Sylar. He was going to have to start wearing indestructible clothes or something.

So when he heard a familiar voice, he almost dismissed it. Until Peter turned, and looked, and his mouth dropped open. Nathan. Nathan was here. How was he still alive? ...Okay, that so didn't matter right now.

"Nathan!" Peter grinned widely, almost tripping over himself in his rush to run to his brother, wasting no time in practically tackling him in a hug.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Finally.

After what he'd seen here already - guys named Ed talking in the third person, talk of popcorn and magic, hobos using squirrels as phones? - he was so ready to just get the hell out and on with his life, Peter safely in tow. This place was an absolute nuthouse. No wonder Peter showed up here of all places.

He looked pissed off. Maybe a little protective. But Jesus, was it so good to see the guy again. Intact. Nathan took no moment's pause to hug Peter right back, even when Peter had sent him reeling back a good foot or so. That was like a freaking bear tackling him. A cub, maybe - Peter wasn't that strong. Nathan's hands automatically grabbed into Peter's shirt, though, hard, as he let out a hard breath that had to lift about three hundred pounds off his shoulders.

"Jesus, Pete, you don't just... disappear like that."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"Wasn't my fault," Peter muttered, almost sulkily, if not for the fact that he was far too overjoyed to be sulky, and it was probably impossible to hear him considering that his face was still buried in Nathan's shoulder.

God, he'd been worried. But unless his mind was playing tricks on him, Nathan really was here and alive and not burned to little pieces by a radioactive explosion. He'd been fully prepared to spend months feeling guilty over that - you never really got over thinking that you were responsible for your brothers death, after all.

He patted his hands over Nathan's back, just trying to reassure himself, because he really didn't want to let go of Nathan right now. "I thought I killed you."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

God, Nathan was here for two seconds and he could already practically smell the pouting face being made into his shoulder. No, really. He had, like, a warning light that went off in his head every time Peter made it. A sixth sense or something, to know when to hide. God knew the kid would get him every time if he hadn't learned to grow resistant to that face.

"Yeah, all right," Nathan muttered, cuffing Peter on the back of the head and rolling his eyes. He'd out-flown the explosion, got the hell out of there right before Peter went off. But... apparently, he didn't remember that. "I can break the sound barrier, Pete, give your bro some credit," he added lightly, pulling back a little to look the younger man in the eyes.

"What'd you do? Fly here? Stop time and teleport? Turn invisible and catch the nearest flight to Scotland?" No, seriously. He wanted to know. "Man, you're random, but this is just... weird. A school in Scotland? What even brought this up?"

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Oh, right. He probably should have remembered that Nathan could outfly an explosion. Maybe it had just scrambled his brains a bit - which wouldn't be unexpected - seeing as the last thing he really remembered was Nathan flying them up. Weird.

"Nathan, oh man, I just appeared here after I exploded and I had no idea what was going on. And the questions and- Sylar! He was here," Peter babbled hurriedly, eyes wide in urgency as if he just had to tell Nathan everything, grabbing at his brothers shoulders. In his rush, his stream of thought was quite clearly disjointed, and probably impossible to follow if you hadn't been putting up with it for years. "And he's going after this woman named Susan, but I fought him-" He broke off to take a deep breath, "-And the Walker kid! The one who found me, she's here too! There's people here like us, Nathan - like us!"

God, he felt like crap. He had more control over his abilities ever since Claude had made a daily regiment of beating it into him, but it was still a lot to get used to. Peter ducked his head, trying to hide his suspiciously red eyes. Nathan would probably roll his eyes if he knew Peter was getting emotional, so he just smiled, the expression slightly wobbly. "How did you find me, anyway?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Babbling sprees. Oh, yeah, he wasn't used to those after a million years of being brothers with the guy.

God, this place was not good for him. Just what he needed. More people like them, people to get Peter back into that dreamer state of mind where he thought he could do anything. Conquer the world, if he put his efforts into it. "What, you mean lunatics?" he replied sarcastically, hooking his arm around Peter's neck and pulling him in close. "God, Pete." Deep breath, Nathan. Don't lose your shit.

He had connections. People who really know their shit, who could've picked him out if he'd gone to freaking Mars. ...Peter totally could've gone to Mars, shut up. "It's not important. Just... you gotta get this stuff out of your head, man. Wasn't New York enough? Can't you just... take a break, and chill out and watch old Spin City reruns in your boxers or something. Just for once?"

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"No, not lunatics," Peter scowled, pulling away from under Nathan's arm so he could frown at his brother. "Why are you still so doubtful of all of this?"

Maybe it was because Nathan was still looking out for his career - Peter could understand that, he could, but it got really bloody annoying sometimes. He'd long since internally forgiven Nathan for trying to convince him his attempts to fly were just suicide attempts, but... was it too much to be excited to meet other special people?

And God, he wished he could lie around and do nothing. Peter hung his head sheepishly, but when he looked back up again, there was a determined look in his eyes. "I can't, Nathan, not when Sylar's around. There are... damn," Peter paused, rubbing at his forehead, frustrated, "I can stop him, and there are innocent people around here." He directed an earnest, almost pleading stare at Nathan. "I can't just take time off."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

God, it wasn't even about his career right now. It was about Peter. It was about the guy blowing up and resurfacing at this school, acting completely out of his mind - well, no more than usual, but, still - and still focused on killing Sylar, saving the world. These little delusions that were just gonna kill him someday, and Nathan really could not deal with that right now.

"I'm doubtful because... They're talking about popcorn." He raised his eyebrows at Peter, matter-of-factually, clapping a hand back onto his shoulder and fixing the other man with a knowing stare. "Because there's some guy over there... with a paper bag on his head, talking into a dead squirrel." He sighed, rubbing at his temples and letting his eyes flicker to the floor for a moment in contemplation. "Look, Pete, I know you want this to be your salvation. But this is not the place to do it. The people here are... insane. You don't belong here."

Of course he wasn't going to listen. Peter had that damnable, stubborn Petrelli gene. He wasn't going down without a fight. He squared his jaw a little as Peter spoke, letting his eyes flicker around to the other people in the room before they landed back onto Peter's own. Innocent people. Needing to be saved. He was a hospice nurse all over again, just saving a few more at a time, if he could manage. "There's no way of getting this into your head, is there? Of course, short of a sledgehammer."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Briefly, Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he looked over his shoulder, trying to see the people talking about popcorn and the guy with the dead squirrel. The people he'd met had been nice, mostly. It had been a little weird with all the talk of magic and not being able to die, but he'd heard weirder.

He opened his mouth to reply that he needed to be here, but closed it again with a frustrated frown when Nathan kept talking. He got that Nathan was just protective, but Jesus, it could get pretty controlling at times. As if he thought he could make Peter do something just by patting him on the head and telling him to run along.

"I'd probably just heal from that," Peter grinned crookedly, the more subtle meaning of 'You are being obtuse' going right over him and his tendency to take things a little too literally. "I can't just sit by when Sylar is trying to kill, he became my responsibility after I screwed up and didn't finish him." It was still a little disturbing to be talking like that, but it was necessary. "Go back to your office if you can't handle a little insanity," he added, trying not to be too disappointed that his brother didn't get it.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

...Okay, he hadn't meant that literally. Nobody was taking a sledgehammer to Peter's head.

That last comment had earned Peter A Look, in which Nathan's eyes narrowed in warning, darkening a bit in light of the situation and all but moving his mouth into the words, 'don't go there'. Peter just really expected him to buy all of this? These people were nuts, more than your run-of-the-mill crazy - way more than that; they made Peter look like a perfectly well-adjusted little boy - and... God, he just really couldn't deal with this. Really couldn't leave Peter hear. But the guy didn't look like he was budging an inch, no matter how hard Nathan tugged.

"I'm just trying... to understand this," he replied in a short, quiet voice, holding up a hand and grasping at the air, as if he could... pull words out of it, or something. That would be so convenient right now. "Why you would take off to some place in... Bumfuck, Scotland - middle of nowhere - and... suddenly there's Sylar. There's Hiro Nakamura. That Molly Walker girl. I'm showing up." He paused a beat, raising his eyebrows to Peter. "Isn't that a little strange to you? You don't think this is some kind of coincidence? Maybe New York all over again?" The bomb was left unsaid, but damn if it was implied.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"Exactly!" Peter clapped Nathan enthusiastically on the shoulder, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He'd caught onto the New York: Part II implication, but it didn't faze him - if that happened again, he'd just find another way to do it far away from people. There was a lot of open land in Scotland, probably. "You're here because you're meant to be here, Nathan."

Determined, he searched around for the scrap of paper he'd been drawing on between talking to people in the Sorting Room. He'd had an itch to draw, and presumably he'd spent a long time bent over an application, scribbling furiously with Isaac's rather unique ability. Finally finding it, Peter pulled the picture - now slightly crumpled - out of his pocket.

"Look," he pointed at one of the figures, sketched in rough pencil, obviously tied to a chair. "That's Sylar, it has to be, and this," Peter tapped the only other figure in the room, himself, standing by the door, "Is me." Internally, he wasn't too happy about it, but his expression was set with an almost fevered determination. "I have to do this, if I can keep people safe."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

That was definitely not what he... Peter was twisting his words around, Christ. He was here talking about how Peter should get the hell out, before they were faced with another possible bomb occurrence - some September 11th repeat, only, hey, instead of hating Middle-Easterners, the prejudice would be turned onto the people with abilities instead. Imagine where that would have gone.

What the hell was this? Nathan took the picture from Peter's hands, eyes automatically flickering across the sheet with a bit of something between confusion and disbelief lingering behind them. "Jesus, Peter, you draw this?" he asked in a lowered voice, narrowing his eyes at the page and gesturing to it. "You know, 'save the cheerleader," his daughter, "save the world' is a little different than 'torture the serial killer, save the world', God."

Like he'd be able to stop him. He'd tried before - that picture at Claire's homecoming. Peter had nearly died that night because of that picture, because he felt it was his destiny to do it or whatever. "I don't know about this."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"It's not torture," Peter protested, though at this stage he didn't even believe himself. There was no sense of violence in what he'd drawn, it just looked like Sylar was too weak to do anything. Peter had realized that, without being able to die in this place, and Sylar being able to get out of anything with telekinesis, that weakening him would be the best way to stop him from killing. There was no special psychotherapy that would help.

It was clashing hard with his instinct to help people, but he'd begun to rationalize that it was helping people. By protecting them. He'd have to sink to some new depths, but he'd do it.

Peter scrubbed his hands over his face, digging his fingertips into his temples. It wasn't Nathan giving him this headache, just... this whole idea. "Look, Nathan, I know you don't approve, but I need your help on this one," Peter asked, deciding just to be extremely blunt about this. "I won't ask you to chase after him if he escapes... well, I wouldn't want you to do that. But he's smart. If he escapes, he's going to know how to take me down, so if you don't see me for a while, you might wanna check out the room and take out whatever he's shoved through my brain."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

"You don't know that." Okay, so maybe it wasn't. There was no sign of violence in it, but if this was Sylar like Peter said, the guy didn't look all that coherent. He looked drained and... God only knew what Peter would do to get this... this vision to come true. Torture, maim. Murder? Not that Sylar didn't deserve it - jeez, Nathan had seen some of those crime scene photos and resoundingly... gross - did it always have to be Peter that destiny called on? Sometimes Nathan missed Peter's being the white sheep in a family of black ones.

Being told that he might have to be pulling stuff out of Peter's skull earlier, well, that was a little unsettling, at the least. "Reassuring," he replied bluntly, and of course this was going to be the one time his regenerative powers didn't kick in subconsciously, right? Claire wasn't here to help save him this time.

"Pete..." Anything Peter was deciding on doing, whatever cliff he was gonna jump off of this time... Nathan was gonna be there to catch him. But seriously. He opened his mouth, debating the huge, resounding 'no' that was going to come out, and... nothing. All right. New approach. God. "You know, I come here to pick you up, and now you've got the grand master plan going down."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Grabbing the drawing back from Nathan, Peter stuffed it in his pocket again. He looked undecided as to whether he should get annoyed at Nathan or try and convince him some more that his plan would work. Instead, he settled for a mild, vaguely offended, glare - as if his ability to draw the future had somehow been doubted.

"You came here to pick me up?" Peter furrowed his eyebrows, amusement beginning to dawn over his expression. "What did you think you were going to do, kidnap me and fly out of here?" He grinned. He wasn't even going to ask how Nathan found him, because no doubt the answer lay in some of Nathan's business or family contacts.

He'd let go of the 'master plan' discussion right. Maybe introduce it to Nathan again once the guy was settled in - which Peter would make sure he would, Nathan wasn't flying off again.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Great, and now he was getting all offended. Because Nathan wasn't backing up his plan that he'd drawn of the future on the back of an application into a magic school. Come on, how many kinds of crazy did that sound? At least nine. Nathan wasn't exactly one for wild and crazy plans. Peter tended to be just a little too much of a dreamer for his liking.

"Yeah, I had the pillowcase and everything," he prompted back sarcastically rolling his eyes towards Peter's amusement. Honestly. "I was gonna chuck you in the trunk of a car and take off. God, no, I just didn't know you'd be... Well, settling down here." If settling down was the word for it. Already devising plans to take down Sylar and... God, he didn't even know.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Considering that Nathan had once threatened to detain him in a mental institution, Peter thought the 'kidnapped and shoved in the trunk' probably wasn't too far away from reality. Peter had never really been involved in the more mobster sides of their family, but it didn't stop him from giving a doubtful glance at Nathan.

"I don't know if it's settling down," Peter admitted. "Just... I don't know, maybe it would be a good thing." Putting his hands on Nathan's shoulders, he squeezed, and smiled reassuringly. "Come on, it's not a bad place. You've been working too hard anyway; take some time off, don't use the politician voice so often, huh? You could use a break."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Oh, for God's sake, Nathan wasn't going to actually shove Peter into the trunk. That other thing... entirely different situation. Peter should know that by now. Or... maybe not; Nathan was a fickle sort of person at the best of times, but he wouldn't shove Peter into the trunk of a car. The doubtful glance earned him a hardened sort of frown right back, as if to ask, 'do you seriously think I would tie you up and shove you in a trunk?'. You know, in that beseeching, slightly defensive sort of way.

"Yeah, it's not a bad place, it's just one where the crazy people roam free," Nathan muttered back under his breath, eyes glancing surreptitiously around the room. Hobos and talking rabbits and a plan to take down a serial killer who stole brains. He was already going nuts. And he hadn't even gotten to the Teletubby yet.

He finally looked back to Peter once the guy had finished talking, brows still furrowed. "I just got elected to Congress, and you're talking about going on a break." With the kind of tone that said, 'you crazy, son'. "Seriously, Pete. What about Simon, and Monty? What about... Heidi? I can't just stay here." ...Right?

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Since Peter had yet to meet anybody that he really classified as crazy, he really didn't understand why Nathan was do doubtful of this place. Then again, he knew what Nathan was like - even though the guy could fly, he still insisted that everybody was crazy for believing that they had abilities.

Taking his hands from Nathan's shoulders, Peter frowned and folded his arms across his chest. He understood that Nathan wanted to be with his kids and wife, he did, but... couldn't he just spend a little more time here? He'd just exploded, and all he was apparently going to get from Nathan was a quick hello and goodbye again.

"Fine, go back to your Congress," Peter sulked scowled, looking at the ground. "Go and make speeches about something like family values, I'm sure your eager followers will love that."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Oh, Nathan had already had his fair share of crazy since he'd come here. And that wasn't even counting if he ever came across this Sylar guy everybody kept mentioning - he seemed a few fries short of a Happy Meal on top of everything - and just what Nathan needed. More insanity. God, he could make exceptions, but... squirrels. Fucking squirrels. 'Nuff said.

Maybe it was a little unfair, though. Two seconds here, after Peter'd nearly died - for the second time in the past week or so, Christ - and already Nathan was talking about taking off. Not that he would actually take off just yet - he'd at least be waiting around for a few days or so - but, damn. He always kept that asshole exterior, lest he want to be walked all over by Peter and his damn puppy eyes, or God only know what would have happened with the Linderman group if he hadn't been as hard-shelled as he was.

"Pete... shut up," Nathan replied in short, grabbing at Peter's chin and lifting it from its emo skittered direction towards the floor. "Seriously, don't talk to me like that." He released Peter's chin and frowned, his own jaw working as he ground his teeth together. "You just got yourself a little exploded the other day. I'm not exactly taking off yet."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Keeping his arms defensively folded across his chest, Peter just looked at Nathan, still fairly unhappy that Nathan was still talking about taking off. Sure, he said he'd be around, but the word 'yet' wasn't promising. It was typical Nathan - sticking around for a bit and then going back to his business, and getting incredibly stern when anybody tried to complain.

"Yet," he echoed grumpily, half-glaring at Nathan from underneath his hair. "I give it two days, tops, before you're already coming up with excuses, and it'll be 'Seeya, Peter, business is more important.'"

A hint of pleading entered his otherwise sullen expression. "Nathan, I need you here," he said hopefully, "Not halfway around the world. I... I can't handle Sylar by myself." Well, he would be, but Peter was just talking metaphorical back-up, here. There was no way he was getting Nathan involved. "I can't handle any of this by myself," he admitted.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

He could have argued, sure, but how useless would that have been? That was typical Nathan right there, leaving just when Peter needed him the most, usually. Other than being there to bail him out to save his campaign... Nathan wasn't exactly there for Peter much. Um... ever. And it was usually by the time Nathan got there that Peter was already in some kind of mortal peril, or even - God, that had sent Nathan for a spin - dead.

"Don't say that," he repeated again, narrowing his eyes a bit to Peter. Come on, give him a little credit. He had been the one there for Peter with the whole... well, bomb thing, after all. Hadn't he? ...Yeah, one thing out of nine million situations. "Why do you have to take down this guy anyway?" he added a little reasonably, scratching at his eyebrow. "People can't die here, right, somebody was saying? Isn't it safe he just stay here?"

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Logic? Common sense? Peter Petrelli does not know these words!

Peter had wondered that himself, too - why he needed to protect people from Sylar, if people couldn't die here. But he didn't know how far that extended. It might be possible that Sylar could remove the top of their skull, gain their powers, and the person would simply be left alive... considerably skull-less. He wasn't prepared to risk hoping that some invisible force would stop Sylar if he tried.

"You don't know that," he repeated Nathan's earlier words, frustrated. Couldn't Nathan just help, for once, no questions asked?

Heaving an annoyed sounding sigh, Peter pushed the hair out of his face. "Look, okay, I understand that you need to go back. It's not like I can stop you, anyway. Just... can you stay for a week, at least? Please?" It was probably hard to build up time - between exploding and arriving here - in which he'd missed Nathan, but Peter couldn't help it.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

You used COMMON SENSE and PETER within the same train of THOUGHT? :0

Okay, so people couldn't die, that much they'd established. And, true, of course, that, obviously, having your head chopped in half was going to hurt, no matter who it was being done to. The whole brain removal thing was... probably going to have some sort of effect on somebody too, and... Nathan was definitely poking lots of holes into his own plan. Still. There was a point to be had here.

Peter just sounded so damned desperate. Nathan had long since built up an immunity to those puppy eyes and that eager, pleading sort of tone Peter got to his voice when he wanted something - else he wouldn't have gotten anything done, ever, really - but it didn't stop his shoulders from slumping a little as Peter spoke. Nathan sighed, scratching at his brow, and glanced back to the other man. "A week, man, tops, but, seriously, you gotta tell me before this thing's going down. I swear, if you get yourself hurt or something..." Or killed, not that it would matter much on Peter, especially here.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

When this thing was going down? "As soon as I get out of here," Peter admitted sheepishly - or as sheepish as you could be when you were planning to run off and try to capture a serial killer. With no back-up.

But at least Nathan said that he would be saying for a week. Peter's expression instantly lit up with a pleased grin. A week wasn't much, but it would give Peter enough to time to try and convince Nathan to stay. How Nathan would do his job, and stay here, Peter hadn't yet considered.

Impulsively, Peter grabbed Nathan in another hug. "Just don't get all big brother on me about this Sylar thing," he said, as sternly as he could manage while also talking into Nathan's shoulder. "If I get myself hurt, it doesn't last long anyway, remember?"