Owl to Nathan

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

(Needless to say, Peter's usual nurse-scrawl is nearly impossible to read, and anything crossed out has been done so heavily that it's ripped the parchment in a few places.)

Nathan,

Not that I care or anything but

Are you still here?

So. When are you leaving?

I really don't want you to leave this quick, I ...does being around me suck that much?

I just want my brother around, and you're talking about leaving. I don't

I'm sure New York must be falling to pieces without you there -Go on, just leave, see if I care

Can you at least give me notice? Maybe I'll arrange a farewell party. You like red and blue, right?

Your BROTHER
Peter

Comments

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Nathan didn't even bother to write a response.

There was an owl in his room for Christ's sake, waving a letter around for him, Peter's name scrawled at the bottom, and like hell was he going to just let this pass with a calmly jotted note back to the other man. Owls. He was still getting used to the whole 'people with powers' thing, then he's dumped into a school where there's magic? Moving staircases, and walking suits of armor. Talking paintings. Talk about a freaking acid trip.

Needless to say, Nathan was barging into Peter's room within minutes, brandishing the letter and being followed closely behind by an extremely attentive-looking owl. "Owls, man? Fucking owls? Where the hell did you even get this? It was in my room, shitting all over my desk." Half true. On the carpet, once, at least. And then tried to eat the rest of his breakfast pastry. ...That was beside the point. It was the principle of the matter! "Whatever happened to actual mail? Dropping by? I have a cell phone, you know." Not that he could get any service in this school. ...Or get it to start up in the first place - his battery was probably dead.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"Don't exaggerate," Peter replied, as calmly as he could while internally freaking out over the fact that Nathan was going to be leaving soon. "And cell phones don't work here." He half-smiled, dryly. "That's probably why you haven't been getting hysterical calls from your employees."

Currently curled up in the corner of the couch in his room, Peter turned his attention back to the sketchbook he'd been flipping through. Seeing as he was not, in fact, an artist at all, it was the sketchbook that he used for drawing the future. The one he'd drawn recently was probably a woman he met at his Sorting (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1389273.html?thread=70800857#t70800857) - the drawing itself featured the striking woman, not doing anything in particular, but there were yellow and red eyes in the darkness of the background. Peter still wasn't sure what they meant.

Looking up from the sketchbook and back at Nathan with some hint of wariness in his expression, Peter frowned slightly. "Come to say your goodbyes?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Don't exaggerate? He... "Did you just read my mind?" he asked randomly narrowing his eyes, as if he'd just asked Peter something like, 'did you take the last cookie?'. Eyes cast downward, distracted, he frowned and started digging into his pocket. "Don't do that. I swear, I will shank you, man." Flipping open the cell phone, he pressed a few experimental buttons and... huh. Maybe they didn't work here. What the hell? Weird.

Peter really needed to stop doing that thing, too. Where he kept asking Nathan when he was going to leave, if he was going now, why hadn't he gone yet, whatever. It was getting kind of old. And paranoid. As if Nathan was going to take off while there was a freaking serial killer at the school who'd left Peter with a three foot rod of steel going through his forehead. Nathan was pretty bad at the whole loving brother thing, but he wasn't that bad.

"Shut up," was all he dismissed in a grumble under his breath, crossing a bit forward and tugging the top of the sketchbook a little downward, trying to see the page. "What're you drawing now?" He fixed Peter with a question mark of a look. "More stuff from the 'future'?" Said with wiggly fingers and skepticism all around.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Peter just rolled his eyes, pinning Nathan with a look. "I'm your brother, I don't need to read your mind to know when you're being you." Although, huh, 'shanking', that was a new one. He watched a small, amused smile as Nathan fiddled with his cell phone, wondering why his brother actually hadn't figured that one out yet. He'd seemed to have a cell phone permanently attached to his ear, before they came here.

He was very tempted to be childish and yank the sketchbook away from Nathan. But that would just breed irritation, even if it might get him faster answers. Peter let Nathan angle the sketchbook so that he could see, although he realized Nathan was likely just asking so that he could avoid Peter's question. God, Nathan could be annoying sometimes.

"Yes, more stuff from the future," Peter replied, huddling further into the couch, offense coloring his tone. "Why do you always have to be such a skeptic? You can fly, Nathan, isn't that proof enough that all this is real?" Craning his neck so that he could look up at Nathan, Peter frowned slightly. "Or was it just my imagination that I blew up a few weeks ago?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Well, it wasn't like he could charge the thing here, to figure out. Hogwarts was all for a lack of the electrical outlets. And it wasn't like he'd been expecting to stay here very long either - he'd pretty much brought the cell phone and the suit on his back and taken off. He'd thought Peter was dead, for Christ's sake. One time was enough, thanks, he didn't need the other scares. It was bad enough he kept entertaining the possibilities in his head and driving himself nuts with the thought of what the hell he would do if Peter ever did die.

New subject. Not much better of one. But... new. He let out a bit of a huffy breath on his own, rolling his eyes at Peter's questions and scrubbing at his temples with a hand. "Yes, Peter, I can fly." He certainly liked saying that Nathan could fly. "I can fly, you're the human freaking sponge, and..."

He paused for a moment, sighing and plopping onto the couch beside Peter, hand on the other man's knee. "You did almost blow up a few weeks ago, all right? You also nearly died last week, and then just disappeared under my nose without a word of anything for a damn week." Petrelli-language for 'you're testing my patience, kid, so knock it the fuck out'.

"Okay, I saw a table. Turn into a dog. When I first showed up here." Skepticism was a bit out the window. "But drawing the future is still a little much for me, man, cut me some slack." He could barely spare credence in Isaac's paintings. Peter absorbed the ability and, well, face it, every one... he kind of sucked at using. God only knew what kind of mishaps he could be coming across, drawing the future or whatever now.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"Correction," Peter held up a finger, and he'd completely serious and earnest if not for the faint amusement lingering in his expression. "I did die. Both times. And a few times before that." Oh, Peter got the Petrelli-language - he'd been deciphering Nathan's hidden meanings for his whole life. That didn't mean he had to shut up about it. "But it never sticks, remember?"

He watched Nathan carefully as he sat, absently cataloging every tiny change in his brother. Maybe a few more stress lines; probably from the election run, Peter knew that had been hard work. Or possibly even from this place. For a man as skeptical about things as Nathan was, this castle couldn't be easy to take in.

Emphasized by the fact that Nathan was ranting mildly about tables turning into dogs. Peter could sympathize. Not long ago he'd absorbed... something (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1416572.html?thread=72227964#t72227964), and the resulting few hours had probably been the most disturbing of his life, until he'd gotten it under control.

Tucking the sketchpad away, Peter tucked his hair behind his ear, staring at Nathan. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly, concerned.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

...Was that supposed to make him feel better? Peter kind of sucked at this whole 'reassuring' thing. Not that Nathan was any better. Or their mother, for that matter - it had to have ran in the family. "Oh, right, you actually did die," Nathan snarked in return, eyebrows raising. "A few times. You've died. And just because you came back doesn't mean that there's not going to be that one time that I know your healing... what-the-hell-ever it is isn't going to kick in, Pete, Jesus."

This place had been trying on Nathan, though, definitely trying on him. And not just all this crap with people with powers, people with magic, brain-eating serial killers going after his brother and nearly giving him a heart attack when the guy showed up dead afterwards, even if it was only for a little while. Which... all of that was plenty. But then he barely had a way to contact his wife, or his kids, and, God, it had been the first time in months that he'd been able to look at Heidi without feeling some sort of sharp pang of guilt gouging him open, and now he was way the hell over in Scotland?

Needless to say, Peter's question caught him off guard. Because one minute, they're talking about... all that shit. Next, Peter's changing gears completely, damn little bleeding heart. Nathan would totally kick his ass if he had the motivation to do so right now. "Am I okay?" The fuck? "Where the hell did that come from? Of course I'm okay, Christ."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Trust Nathan, the eternal pessimist. In response, Peter simply sighed slightly. Yes, one day, Claire's regenerative ability probably would fail. For any number of reasons - out of not being able to concentrate, maybe if he didn't have energy to do it with. It was probably a good idea not to tell Nathan that he'd been a little slow to heal when Sylar had been kicking his ass. Peter was all for telling the truth, but not when it came to things that would make Nathan freak out unnecessarily.

And Nathan saying that he was okay was clearly not true. Frowning, still concerned, Peter tucked his legs under him and shifted sideways so that he was facing Nathan. All the better to stare at him earnestly.

"No you're not. I know you're not," Peter replied. "You probably haven't talked to mom or Heidi and your kids since you got here. I know you haven't contacted anybody at your office, unless you've sent letters via owl or found a nearby post-shop. People expect me to run off and not contact them for months, not you."

Actually, the more he thought about it, the more concerned he was becoming. It wasn't like Nathan to willingly detach himself entirely from his home and contacts. Ironically enough, the one thing that Peter wanted - for Nathan to stay here - was the same thing that was worrying him. "So what's up? Mid-life crisis?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

That... probably would not have helped matters any. Peter's regenerative skills, the power he'd absorbed from Claire, was really the only thing that was keeping Nathan from going completely mental over Peter and all of these crazy world-saving stunts. If he'd known that his abilities weren't working as well as they'd originally been able to, when he'd first started getting control of it, he'd probably be dragging Peter back home about five minutes ago. By the ear and everything. To shove him back under the podium.

"And how, again, am I supposed to get back to them, huh? You said yourself cell phones don't work. Or, oh, yeah, I could send an owl to deliver my mail back to my office, after I took off one day without telling anyone where I'd gone." He rolled his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh, you know, maybe I could tell them about the magic school, and how my brother's saving the world by tying up the serial killer. Or how-how elves deliver my damn breakfast, and there's freaking magic spells that can turn a shoe into a duck, should I so want to. Maybe I can tell them all that, Pete. That'll go over great, you know, trying to convince the people of America that crazy actually doesn't run in my family. Fantastically. Sure to get re-elected."

He held up his index finger and thumb curled into a ring, in the universal sign language for 'OK', sighing and glancing back over to his brother with an irritated sort of look in his eyes. "Look, mid-life crisis, you buy a motorcycle. You buy hookers or... go to Vegas and waste your life savings on casinos. You don't fly off across oceans to watch your brother die a few times over at a magical castle in Sotland. This?" He gestured to the two of them, to the room around them. "Is NOT mid-life crisis."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Listening patiently to Nathan's rant - he'd heard enough of them before - Peter tried to digest his words and try to figure out if there were any bits of relevant information. Sure, it was all relevant, in that Nathan was apparently freaking out over the magic school, and Peter was concerned about that, too. But the more important issue on Peter's mind was how Nathan was dealing personally.

...Not so well, by the sound of it.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Peter reached and gripped Nathan's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Hey, calm down," he suggested patiently. "Magic schools aren't the worst thing to be happening in history. I know it's a little weird, but I think you'd really enjoy it if you got used to it. You'd never have to pay for food or a cleaning lady ever again," Peter smiled crookedly.

Admittedly, trying to get his brother to enjoy something he thought was strange was a little far-fetched. But that didn't stop Peter from hoping. At least his own despondent mood had cleared up fairly quickly, in light of being concerned about someone else - something far more important, in Peter's mind.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

"You know, I think Hitler's still got a little bit of a one-up on them, yeah," Nathan prompted right back, and resisted the world record of eye-rolling for the past five minutes, rubbing at his face with a hand. This was just... so not going the way he imagined. This whole school wasn't going the way he'd imagined. Nathan had shown up here, three weeks ago, expecting to get in and out and on with life, Peter dragged by the hair behind him out of this Godforsaken place. Maybe kicking and screaming. Who knew? But, yeah, out of this school.

Three weeks later, and here Nathan still was. Thousands of miles from home. Thousands of miles from his family, in this stupid school, with its goddamn broomsticks and spells and whatever the hell else. It was absolutely unbelievable, and Peter was buying every last second of it.

"Wouldn't have to pay, sure, but what about everything else?" Nathan asked, a bit dryly, raising his eyebrows at Peter again. "Okay, my job is back in New York. My family's back in New York. EVERYTHING is back there, and I'm here, in Scotland. What about that little mishap, Pete? I'm not you. I can't just up and leave and get on with things without telling anyone. I've got... obligations." He paused, furrowing his brows. "I've gotta be a damn politician - little hard, way over in Europe."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Peter tried not to look too miserable at Nathan's words, but he'd always worn his heart on his sleeve, he couldn't help it. He took his hand from Nathan's shoulder and started fiddling with a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve, hair falling to half-cover his mildly upset expression.

He got that Nathan had to leave. He really did understand. Like Nathan said, everything in his brothers life was back in New York - his important political position, his wife, his children, their family. The only thing that wasn't there was his brother. As far as importance went, Peter knew he didn't exactly tip the scales in his favor.

"I got a job as a nurse in the Hospital Wing," he said abruptly, smiling faintly at Nathan. "Just walked in and got it. I'm... trying not to use my abilities so much." Which was kind of hard, when he couldn't stop picking them up. "Getting back into the swing of being normal again. Here's a good place to do it, I think."

Peter tried to turn his smile into something encouraging - he wasn't entirely sure if it worked. He didn't want Nathan to go, but he also wanted what was best for his brother. At the moment, what was best for Nathan probably wasn't staying here. With him. "So I don't need you to protect me anymore, Nathan. You can go. Give everyone my love."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Which... was basically exactly what Nathan needed to hear. Even if it was said in passing, or without earnest, as long as Peter said something about his being okay... that was satisfying enough for Nathan, for the most part. It was some weird kind of discrepancy with him, that he had to hear Peter say it before he could be content. Hell, Peter had told him that, shortly following a second right hook to Nathan's freaking jaw, and Nathan had given him a thumbs up. And... that was how the Petrellis roll worked. Or something.

Still. This school, and Peter and his freaking dreaming. Drawing the future. Nathan didn't think he was ever going to get that mental image of Peter dead on the floor of the dungeon out of his head, no matter how short of a time he'd had to live that. It had still happened, and for all his pessimism was worth, he couldn't help imagining that one time when, like he said, Claire's power just wasn't going to work. And Peter wasn't going to bounce back like something out of an X-Men movie. This was real life, not a comic book anymore.

"Normal. Right. Because that's the best way to achieve, in... a magic school. In the furthest possible thing from normal to exist on this planet. Right?" He sighed, leaning forward onto his knees and letting his hands dangle uselessly towards the floor, eyebrows furrowing downward as if he wasn't even registering Peter's words.

"Hospital wing, huh?" Some of it had, apparently, at the very least. Going back to the nurse thing. Going back to not feeling a need to save the entire world by himself. But how long was that going to last? "So... I'm staying for a couple more days, probably." Tops. "But then I gotta go back, Pete." He couldn't look after Peter forever, even though he was probably going to end up having to do so.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Admittedly, trying to achieve normal in a magic was - as Nathan implied - probably the most un-normal place that he could try to do it in. But Peter had long accepted the fact that he wasn't normal. Even among freaks, he was a freak. Normal people could probably, eventually, accept that people could heal, or use telekinesis - but somebody that could do all of those things was just off the charts of weirdness.

But the people here were used to weird. They accepted it as a daily fact, almost nothing was too weird for them. Here, maybe Peter could find someone that would be able to help him control his abilities. Another Claude, so to speak.

But he still wasn't prepared to hear Nathan say that he was leaving in so many words. Immediately, Peter's mind clouded over with deja vu - Nathan coming home for Christmas when Peter was six, and having to leave the next day. Nathan on his all-too-short 'holidays' from the military. For most of his life, Nathan had been some kind of unreachable figure for Peter, and he never got used to it when Nathan left again. Despite his will to stay in control, Peter felt panic and misery rising. He didn't want to be here without his brother.

"I lied," Peter replied eventually, hating the fact that his voice was shaking. He ducked his head again and sniffed. God, this was pathetic. "I'm not fine. I can't control any of this, Nathan. When Sylar was... when he got free, he dislocated my shoulder and it didn't heal. Sometimes I think about something and tables go flying across the room." There was just dust in his eye, he'd swear. But that didn't help the fact that when he looked at Nathan pleadingly, his eyes were a little red. "I need help, Nathan. I can't do any of this without you. Please, just... stay?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Oh, for fuck's sake.

So much for being what he needed and leaving an open window for Nathan to take off within the next week or so. Their mother was right: Peter WAS Nathan's soft spot - Christ, he'd do anything for the kid, he really would, even if it was masked to the point where it looked like Nathan didn't bother with half a thought towards Peter's well-being - and that was... just... he totally could not deal with this right now.

He didn't heal? He didn't heal? Nathan was fixing Peter with a look of disbelief for a few long seconds, brows slowly furrowing at the younger Petrelli before he wrapped a hand around Peter's shoulder. With a bit of a squeeze and a jostle that was probably supposed to be reassuring, Nathan suppressed the sigh, gritting his teeth in hopes of answering something coherent.

"All right, all right." Fucking hell, this kid was going to be the end of him. "Why the hell didn't you say something about that before, Pete? Jesus." And Nathan would have taken off, Peter would have ended up with some sharp, inanimate object jarred into his brain, and wouldn't that be another fat slice of guilt pie for Nathan's conscience to dig into?

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Hanging his head miserably, Peter bit at his lip and stared at the floor. He knew he'd never get emotional reassurance from Nathan; he'd stopped looking for it years ago. Fortunately, Peter had trained himself to be thankful for what he could get - namely, a hand on the shoulder, or a hug, and some stern words if he was lucky.

"The healing thing... it was just for a few minutes, I mean, I hadn't slept in five days so I couldn't concentrate," he continued, voice pitched lowly. "I lost my control and I came close to blowing up the whole school, as well." Apparently, it was Confession Time. "I just... I don't know what to do."

Not that Nathan would have any sort of great wisdom on controlling powers, really. He probably knew about as much as Peter did, which, in the end, was not much. Nathan at least had the advantage of apparently knowing how to use his power right away - most people with singular abilities did - while Peter was still stuck on the side-lines. But, like all younger brothers that hero-worshiped their older brothers, Peter assumed Nathan had to have some kind of answer.

And this was more than he could handle alone. "How am I supposed to help people when I'm the thing they're in danger from?" At least Sylar wasn't in danger of blowing up the school just from getting angry. Peter sniffed again, attempting to surreptitiously scrub at his eyes with the ends of his sleeves. His emotions had been going overboard, lately.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

And he almost exploded? Oh, fucking... fuckity fuck fuck and other expletives.

Just when he'd gotten used to the idea of leaving, too, and Peter would go ahead and say the one thing that would not only make him stay, but if he was going, damn, it would have brought him back in a heart beat. Because what it really boiled down to, after the end of anything, was that this was Peter. And Peter was most definitely in trouble here. Too many abilities for him to focus on. Nathan was surprised the guy hadn't conked out yet or something. God forbid he played a repeat of post-Odessa. He'd gone into a freaking coma, he'd absorbed so much energy. Nathan couldn't deal with that.

He wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders - damn touchy Petrelli habits - and tugged Peter in, a bit roughly, eyes cast towards the floor as his mouth drew itself into a frown. What the hell did he even say here? That he understood? He knew what Peter was going through with this? Because why bullshit the fact that he didn't? "You gotta calm down, Pete," was all he said, in a hardened voice, glancing up to look to his brother as he squeezed his fingers into the younger Petrelli's shoulder a bit. "You're not... the enemy here. I mean, what the hell, man, you're not Sylar. You're not the guy cutting open people's heads and... munching on brains or whatever the hell that whack-job's doing. Just... calm the fuck down, all right?"

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

For some odd, inexplicable reason, Peter suddenly felt the need to clarify that Sylar probably didn't munch on brains. Likely it was because Peter had come close to a brainless fate himself, and the thought of his brains being eaten just made him queasy. It was really something he didn't want to think about.

God, he felt pathetic. All he wanted was to talk with Nathan, and here he was, breaking down on his poor brother. It had probably been a long time coming, between the last few months and what had happened here. Emotions were likely to go haywire, and Peter's tended to do so more often than not. Still, Nathan's rather unique of comfort - arms around shoulders and no-nonsense words bordering on insulting - were calming his nerves.

"Thanks," Peter whispered, attempting to summon up a smile. It came out rather tremulous. He wasn't holding out hope that Nathan would stay just for him, but maybe for a minute he could pretend, and ignore everything else pressing on his mind. ...Had he ever thanked Nathan for finding him here? Or flying him up when he was exploding? He really should. Because that had been amazing. "Sometimes I have these dreams," Peter continued, apropos of absolutely nothing, "Nightmares, I guess. Where you leave, but the last thing we ever said to each other was an argument. Not the future kind of dreams, but... they really suck," he said miserably. "I don't want that to happen."

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Whatever the hell he did with them... The guy took people's brains. Nathan didn't care if he was frying them up with basil or just adding them to some sick kind of shrine he kept in his dormitory or if he freaking... flushed them down the toilet or something. He was taking brains. Something about that wasn't right no matter what he did with them afterwards. And, quite frankly, Nathan would feel much better if he didn't know the details of what came afterward.

God, why the hell was he speculating as to the habits of a serial killer? He... really should not have been.

At least Peter had stopped crying. Still, what he was talking about was just... Nathan frowned again, listening to Peter speak with a weird, acute level of attention. He was usually waving Peter off by this point, telling him he's crazy, but, right now, he wasn't. For whatever reason. "Funny, I have dreams about talking dogs," he offered, halfway weakly. And... no? Okay, maybe not that funny. Nathan, you're so random.

He shifted a bit in his seat, clearing his throat and smashing Peter into his shoulder a bit more. "Okay, look. I get it, man, You don't want me taking off while we're arguing or something. God forbid whatever the hell could happen, knowing..." Well, between explosions and near kidnappings and comas and... The Petrellis were their own soap opera, really. With more action. "Just... I get it. But it's not gonna happen."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Despite his mood, Peter snorted quietly at Nathan's reply. Trust Nathan to immediately say the one thing that simultaneously attempted to diffuse the situation and please the masses. The masses, in this case, being Peter, but the analogy was there. "And you say that I have weird dreams," he smirked briefly. "Mine don't have anything on talking dogs."

When Nathan pulled him closer, Peter let out a slight sigh, dropping his head to rest on Nathan's shoulder. It was an awkward angle, but Peter could care less. Maybe he was acting a bit clingy right now, but that was another thing he could care less about. His brother still didn't sound happy about the fact that Peter wanted him around, but when had Nathan last sounded genuinely happy about anything? Seriously. Peter almost couldn't remember.

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "You're too stubborn to let that happen, anyway." They were just dreams. But Peter had always paid too much heed to his dreams.

Frowning suddenly, Peter lifted his head off Nathan's shoulder and tried to twist around slightly to stare at him. "When was the last time you smiled? I mean, actually genuinely enjoyed yourself, not that fake politician thing you wear?" That question had a thought process, he swore. It was just that Nathan hadn't heard Part One.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Too bad it hadn't worked on Peter. This conversation would just be so much easier if they were discussing something like... freaking talking dogs, and very much not the topic of when Nathan was going to leave, or Sylar or anything. This had all been easier before these damn powers. Heidi wouldn't have ended up in that wheelchair, Peter wouldn't have been bound and determined to save the world. Claire wouldn't have survived that fire. But, damn, cruel and cold-hearted as it was to admit to himself, weren't things a lot simpler when she wasn't around too? Imagine trying to explain an illegitimate daughter to your wife and your two boys.

"Yeah, but mine aren't about blowing myself up all over New York," Nathan muttered back under his breath, and sighed. Dreams. Just dreams. That came true, in the long run, usually, when Peter had them. He'd said something about seeing Nathan fly, six months ago when he and Heidi had had their accident. The dreams about Peter exploding. God only knew what else he had up his sleeves.

And... where the hell had that come from? Peter was twisting his head and Nathan glanced to him right back, eyebrows furrowed and mouth crinkling into a mockery of a laugh that never seemed to quite reach his eyes. "Where the hell did that come from? Jesus, Pete, I swear, you're so random sometimes." Said, of course, in that way that sounded joshing but was really threatening to beat Peter into submission if he didn't stow it, and fast.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Fair point, blowing up New York did trump talking dogs. Peter would take dreaming about talking dogs any day over those dreams - the only good thing about them was that he wasn't having them anymore. He supposed dreams like that stopped as soon as you averted it. Thankfully.

He'd been almost eagerly awaiting Nathan's answer, hoping for some kind of confirmation that Nathan had been happy lately. Maybe a story about how one of his children learned to play a song on a new instrument, or a particularly meaningful and touching encounter with a dedicated voter. Hell, Peter would have been satisfied with something so simple as Nathan laughing at a movie, not... his actual reply.

Peter's expression twisted in disappointment, and he shrugged Nathan's arm off his shoulders. "I hate that politician smile," he muttered darkly, shifting off the couch. He grabbed his sketchbook and tossed it onto a nearby table, making an extremely pathetic attempt to look busy. The newspapers needed sorting, he'd swear. Seriously.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Nathan watched Peter shrug him off and stand, a slightly irritated expression drawing his eyebrows downward into a slanted furrow. Great. Just what he needed. "You're kidding, right?" he prompted right back in turn, eyes riveting onto the papers Peter was mindless sorting and sounding vaguely pissed off out of nowhere. "You're mad because I smiled." He could have admitted that, yeah, he knew what Peter was talking about. It had been a while since he'd genuinely smiled, not his plastic politician one that showed off all three hundred and forty-seven teeth. He could've. But... didn't.

"When am I supposed to be laughing, again?" he asked instead, squaring his jaw. "Should I be when I'm taking off for Scotland when my brother disappears off the place of the planet? No, wait, maybe when a brain-eating freaking serial killer's going after him, out for his powers. You know, you exploding was pretty goddamn hilarious. Why didn't I crack a smile then? Or when I was pulling an IV pole out of your forehead?"

Nathan rubbed at his forehead, frustrated, and God help him before he was sharing something that he shouldn't have been. "It's not like I don't smile, Pete. I do." Oh, that was a lame argument. "Just... you know, there hasn't been much to lately, if you've been paying attention." And then paused for a few long seconds, rubbing at his knee. Don't do it, Nathan. Don't.

"Heidi walked."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Okay, maybe Peter could understand where Nathan was coming from. Lately, there really hadn't been much cause to genuinely enjoy anything. Even Peter, who liked to consider himself an optimist, hadn't found many reasons.

But for some reason he expected Nathan to be... above that, somehow. Maybe he was just thinking years back to a more carefree Nathan, or maybe Peter had just conjured up some sort of idealized memory. It was a bit like wearing rose-coloured glasses with only one lens in; seeing the best and the worst in Nathan was kind of disturbing sometimes.

Then again, he should probably go easy on Nathan. The guy had been running for Congress and trying to keep their family together for months now, he was allowed to be a little stressed out. Peter almost went to reply, when... well.

...That was a fairly random statement about Heidi.

Baffled, Peter finally turned around to look at Nathan, dropping all pretense that he was actually doing something. It's not like Nathan believed it, anyway. "She... what? I thought the doctors estimated years, not months?"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

And with everything weighing on his shoulders... from everything he'd babbled about to Heidi's accident, to the election and... their father's death. To say these hadn't been an easy six months on Nathan would be a little bit of an understatement. Pressure from Peter. From his wife and his kids. From... Meredith. And Claire. And... three hundred million people all across America suddenly counting on what decisions he made. Just... pressure, and building up on him slowly and steadily until the one day when you knew Nathan was going to snap. And fire shots off the clock tower or something. Hmm, that would probably be best to avoid.

"Yeah, I know what the doctors said," Nathan replied, quietly, nails digging into the material of his slacks, on his knee, as he looked... at the floor. At his shoes, at his nails skritching away at his pants. Anywhere very much not Peter. "They also said that was going to be a three percent chance. Three percent. And she... moved her foot." But finally did glance up, then, slightly cautiously. "I mean, you're a nurse. What are the odds of that? Three trillion to one or something? She WALKED, Pete. She's WALKING. She's... okay."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

If it was one piece of news that could instantly cheer Peter up, it was probably exactly what Nathan just said. A miracle happening, even though it was nearly impossible chances. It didn't even occur to Peter to ask if there had been something else that prompted Heidi to be able to walk again - he took it at face value for what it was.

"Nathan, that's... amazing," Peter grinned widely, elated. "I can't believe it! I always knew she would pull through, but... god. Awesome." The fact that Nathan wasn't reacting to the news with anything that even remotely resembled happiness didn't occur to Peter just yet.

Practically bounding over to the couch, Peter sat down again, staring at Nathan, eyes wide in happiness. "Seriously, when did this happen? What did you guys do to celebrate? Man, I bet Heidi's practically walking on air!"

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Well, shit, at least Peter wasn't moping around and shuffling papers in some half-fast attempt to seem passive about the situation. At least they weren't on the subject of Nathan anymore, and back onto another one that... well, to be honest, wasn't much better, but, hey, at least he'd gotten them there with his... incredible, politician wiles?

God, he looked like Nathan had just bestowed Christmas down upon an orphan who hadn't had a decent one in years.

"It was... just before I got elected," he replied, and nearly gave something resembling a smirk towards Peter's sudden burst of happiness - a smirk, meaning... one side of his mouth may or may not have tipped upwards a bit at the corner. He rubbed at his forehead and shrugged. "I mean, we were going to announce it afterwards and..." Uh. "We... Oh, we celebrated." How do you explain to your little brother that the first notion, after you've discovered your wife can walk again, is for the two of you to fuck like rabbits?

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

Peter seriously wasn't going to stop grinning any time soon. This was, quite literally, the best news he'd heard in months, and he bet it was probably the same for Nathan, too. Between their father dying, Heidi and Nathan's accident, and the whole struggle with their powers, there hadn't exactly been an abundance of great news.

Actually briefly bouncing on the couch a little, Peter decided he didn't even care that Nathan hadn't told him straight away. Peter hadn't made getting in touch easy, especially in those few days surrounding the election.

"That is so amazing," he declared brightly. "Did-" Peter cut himself off. He'd been about to ask how they celebrated - he wanted to know! - but it occurred to him then exactly what Nathan would have done. Ew. He didn't want to think about that. "Well, at least you had a good time," Peter smirked, pushing Nathan's shoulder.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Was he... bouncing? Seriously, Peter.

Nathan pushed Peter's shoulder right back, joshingly, and he actually did have to fight off a bit of a grin, just because of how excited Peter was about this. Because, in the end, yeah, Heidi was Nathan's wife, but it wasn't like her and Peter were best friends or... he needed to stop with this philosophy right now. It was stupid. Besides, this was Peter, excited about something that didn't involve saving cheerleaders. Or the world. Or... destinies or whatever.

"Jesus, freaking kid in a candy store," he shot back, scratching at his brow. Yes, Nathan plus Heidi had equaled much sex, and judging by the look on Peter's face he had just gotten that concept. No need to elaborate more on the special hugsmatter with the little brother, thank you.

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"What? It's Heidi, Nathan. Walking again after she was told it was going to be impossible! I'm allowed to be happy," Peter protested, letting himself be shoved. It was a little disconcerting that Nathan didn't appear nearly as happy over this as he was, and Peter was only friends with Heidi, not married to her.

Fortunately for Nathan, Peter was still too caught up in the good news to even question how it might have happened. He didn't need to question when good things happened, it was enough that they did.

...And it suddenly occurred to Peter, once more, than Nathan was going to leave. The thought was a little easier to bear this time, but, nonetheless, his sudden good mood evaporated. He really couldn't say anything that would convince Nathan to stay, could he? "Hey, Nathan? Promise you'll at least visit occasionally," Peter pleaded.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Nathan couldn't have really said why he wasn't loads happier about Heidi, about her being able to walk, and just... everything. Because his own powers had been what had caused it in the first place, maybe. Because it was powers - Linderman's specifically - that had healed her, and... he wasn't really sure where to go with that, what to do or feel or anything. You couldn't embrace something that had done good when, not too long before, it had done something so much worse. If it hadn't been for Nathan's flying, Heidi wouldn't have needed to have been in a wheelchair. They wouldn't have NEEDED to have to deal with all of that drama and coping. Their marriage wouldn't have been driven into a six-month rut that Nathan hadn't thought they were ever going to get out of.

God, new topic, definitely new topic. Nathan just left Peter's comment at that, frowning a bit in wake of his new question and planting his chin onto his hand. Oh, boy. Here it came. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered in return, scratching at the back of his head. "I'll visit. Of course." Pause. "Not that I can promise how often, but. Come on, Pete, give me some credit."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"The same kind of credit I was supposed to give you when you were only ever home at Christmas?" Peter asked derisively, slumping backwards into the couch. At least this time he didn't get up and attempt to look busy just to give himself something to do.

He understood that Nathan had been busy during those years, and to actually expect him to have been home more often was kind of stupid, when he thought about it. But Peter couldn't help feeling hurt over it, despite this fact.

With a small frown, Peter decided that he really just had to face up to the fact that he clearly wasn't important in Nathan's life. Nathan had his wife, his kids, his job. All of those should rank higher than Peter, rightfully. He should learn not to get so disappointed every time Nathan left.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

Nathan's own mouth automatically twisted back into a knowing frown, almost foreboding. That... wasn't fair. At all. Yes, he knew he was never home. Yes, he knew that it sucked, for both of them, that Nathan barely knew his brother, that coming home to see Peter was like giving the kid Easter, Christmas, Valentine's Day and his birthday all in one big vacation, and he had always felt horrible about leaving. But what could he do? He was in college. He was in the military. Nathan had barely stepped foot into home since he had turned 18.

"You know that's not fair, Pete," Nathan automatically warned him, in a bit of a heated voice, leaning backward against the couch and throwing up his hands, momentarily. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Skip college? Skip everything I was supposed to do? I couldn't help it, Peter." And the guy was still holding it over his head, these many years later. "You know I couldn't help it."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I know," Peter mumbled quietly. And he did, he knew. He'd never ask Nathan to take time off from what he needed to do - college, the military, essential things. "I just... you know how I feel about it when I never see you."

It felt like a giant dead-end, really. What was Peter supposed to say - Okay, great, I'll see you the next time you feel like you need to help your pathetic little brother? Admittedly, he could be a little more gracious about this whole thing. Nathan had saved the lives of millions of people by flying Peter away when he had, Peter should be thanking him, not practically begging him to stay.

Then again, Peter had never been good at being gracious over things he didn't like. He tended to react with a lot of depressed questions and, later, a lot of brooding.

[soopernathan.livejournal.com]

...Nathan didn't need this. Really didn't need this.

After everything he'd been through. Between, Christ, the last six months. Following Peter, almost literally, to the other freaking side of the world. To Scotland. To this freaking... magic school, that was definitely going to drive him nuts if he didn't get out of here soon. He followed Peter for once, and he was here right now, even as Peter was pulling all of his dreamer shit. Even as he was freaking dying in the dungeons.

And then Peter was pulling this shit. Nathan just rubbed at his forehead, sighing with the air of someone who had seriously ran dry of their patience, by this juncture. "I know, Pete," he responded in a bit of a toneless voice, a bit too sharp to be comforting. "I know, okay? I definitely know." He could only stretch so far. "What do you want me to do, do you want me to stay? Stay here forever? In freaking... magical castle land? Forget my job and my wife and my kids? It's good, okay? It's fine. Here. And..." He waved his hand vaguely at Peter, sighing. "God knows you need someone to look after you. But, Jesus, Pete, I can't watch you forever. I really can't."

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

There really was no use fighting this, was there? Peter knew Nathan loved him, but in the end, wife/kids/job had to win out over that. Nathan had responsibilities, he had to go help people in his own way. He really shouldn't be fighting that.

"I don't need to be watched," Peter replied mulishly. He wasn't a child. Nathan seemed to really take his 'My little brother is an absolute whackjob' opinion quite seriously sometimes.

The unspoken statement in that was, of course, 'Okay, you can leave.' Peter knew that Nathan always got a little annoyed talking about this kind of thing, and he probably didn't need to be getting annoyed. Besides, Peter was more than annoyed at the insinuation that he needed to look after him. He did not.