Story -- Mature -- Christmas 2006
Title: Christmas 2006
Author: Fabrisse
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: Mature
Word Count: ~1000
Category: Angst
Prompt: Day 22 for theyreitalian
Spoilers: Pre Season 2
Summary: Nathan is in the hospital.
Prompt: Christmas
Notes: Sorry, gang. Unbetaed again.
It's just words in his head.
Nathan thinks he's having auditory delusions, and he knows, from helping Peter study on his psychiatric rotation, those are serious. Maybe the burns are finally killing him. Maybe that's his Christmas present.
He hears Peter. Peter and occasionally some effete Other discussing why they're a danger to the world -- or not. The Other voice seems to think the world can be saved by their powers.
Nathan knows better. He can still fly or at least levitate; his nurses think it's a miracle he has no bed sores. But he can't die from the pain, and he can't live a normal life with oozing red skin.
Nathan wants to see his boys, but not like this. He wants to make love to his wife, but he can't piss without a catheter. Nathan wants his mother to be a nice woman and his brother to be here. Neither of those seems likely to happen either.
He knows Peter's alive. Peter must have been the one to bring him here. Peter had to have lived. Nathan can't even begin to define all the verb tenses that mean Peter is still singing in his blood.
Choosing to die so that others could live, so that gentle Peter wouldn't have to be a murderer -- worse, live with having been a murderer, was surprisingly easy. Claire saw his mother clearly, saw who Nathan was becoming, and killed herself -- however briefly -- rather than be in the same room with them. The mirror that held up to him was uglier than the thing he saw in the mirror now.
It never occurred to him that he might live with his choice. Not once did Nathan think he might live without Peter.
The voices in his head are quiet. The argument they keep having about whether or not they are in a prison is at a standstill. And the Other's name is Adam.
Nathan closes his eyes, but before he can push the morphine button again, Peter's voice is back.
This time the voice is for him alone. Peter remembers it's Christmas, and Nathan sees the ghosts of Christmases past. Not his Christmases with all the joy at seeing his brother change and grow from a kid to a boy to an awkward teenager to a beautiful young man, but Peter's Christmases with Nathan as a constant, unchanging force.
In these words, this past, Peter loves him. Peter thinks Nathan is perfect even when Nathan is hurt, depressed, scarred, and scared.
In these words, in this past, there's a quiet kiss under the mistletoe -- a balm and an ache at the same time. Pure love that can never be acknowledged or acted on is the truest love either will ever know.
Peter had a girlfriend by New Year's Eve, and Nathan and Heidi announced their engagement then. It was the only way to make loving each other safe.
***
Nathan hasn't been a good man in many ways. He deserted Meredith rather than resign from Annapolis and the price he paid was her death, their child's death. Here in this room -- where watching television is painful, where his hands are so swollen he can't read a book-- he can acknowledge the thrill that went through him when he heard her voice, and the pain he felt for loving Heidi so much after failing Meredith so badly.
He failed Heidi, too. He knew no one would ever believe it, but, until the accident, Nathan never cheated on his wife. The first couple of weeks he knew her, over a decade ago, he still had another girl in his life. Once he decided Heidi was someone serious, he broke it off with Jennifer (it seemed for awhile like every second girl he asked out was named Jennifer.).
It couldn't be said he never looked at another woman. Nathan looked, and he appreciated the beautiful women he saw around him. But Nathan made commitments -- to the military, to prosecuting crime, to his marriage -- and would not willingly break them. The car accident had broken him, in some ways more than Heidi.
For the first time, Nathan burned for revenge. Revenge had a sting in its tail named Niki, a sweet woman, a moment out of time. Six months without the physical side of love and he'd cast away his marriage vows. In his heart, he'd do it again. The sex was great, no doubt about that, but that was forgivable, even by Heidi. The betrayal was the kiss before Niki left him, not the sliding between the sheets when she returned.
A week later in Kirby Plaza, Peter was glowing. Claire was pointing a gun at him. Nathan still had time to notice Niki and her boy and be glad they would be safe too.
***
The words were still there. Remembrances of midnight masses, music playing at parties both elegant and raucous, gifts chosen with care and opened with joy -- Peter shares all of them.
One last vision of Nathan leaning toward Peter for that kiss under the mistletoe and Nathan's memory of Peter leaning toward him flares bright. For one perfect second, Nathan is whole, his arms around Peter's waist. He can feel Peter's arms around him and the quiet thrill as their lips meet. His blood pounds through him vivid in the present as he feels the past claim him. Peter's lips part his; Nathan's tongue explores Peter.
For one moment, Peter is with Nathan. His body strong, his hair short, his eyes joyful and Nathan's heart skips a beat from pure love.
As the sensations begin to fade, Nathan presses the button for more morphine, and follows the memories of love into sleep.
Author: Fabrisse
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: Mature
Word Count: ~1000
Category: Angst
Prompt: Day 22 for theyreitalian
Spoilers: Pre Season 2
Summary: Nathan is in the hospital.
Prompt: Christmas
Notes: Sorry, gang. Unbetaed again.
It's just words in his head.
Nathan thinks he's having auditory delusions, and he knows, from helping Peter study on his psychiatric rotation, those are serious. Maybe the burns are finally killing him. Maybe that's his Christmas present.
He hears Peter. Peter and occasionally some effete Other discussing why they're a danger to the world -- or not. The Other voice seems to think the world can be saved by their powers.
Nathan knows better. He can still fly or at least levitate; his nurses think it's a miracle he has no bed sores. But he can't die from the pain, and he can't live a normal life with oozing red skin.
Nathan wants to see his boys, but not like this. He wants to make love to his wife, but he can't piss without a catheter. Nathan wants his mother to be a nice woman and his brother to be here. Neither of those seems likely to happen either.
He knows Peter's alive. Peter must have been the one to bring him here. Peter had to have lived. Nathan can't even begin to define all the verb tenses that mean Peter is still singing in his blood.
Choosing to die so that others could live, so that gentle Peter wouldn't have to be a murderer -- worse, live with having been a murderer, was surprisingly easy. Claire saw his mother clearly, saw who Nathan was becoming, and killed herself -- however briefly -- rather than be in the same room with them. The mirror that held up to him was uglier than the thing he saw in the mirror now.
It never occurred to him that he might live with his choice. Not once did Nathan think he might live without Peter.
The voices in his head are quiet. The argument they keep having about whether or not they are in a prison is at a standstill. And the Other's name is Adam.
Nathan closes his eyes, but before he can push the morphine button again, Peter's voice is back.
This time the voice is for him alone. Peter remembers it's Christmas, and Nathan sees the ghosts of Christmases past. Not his Christmases with all the joy at seeing his brother change and grow from a kid to a boy to an awkward teenager to a beautiful young man, but Peter's Christmases with Nathan as a constant, unchanging force.
In these words, this past, Peter loves him. Peter thinks Nathan is perfect even when Nathan is hurt, depressed, scarred, and scared.
In these words, in this past, there's a quiet kiss under the mistletoe -- a balm and an ache at the same time. Pure love that can never be acknowledged or acted on is the truest love either will ever know.
Peter had a girlfriend by New Year's Eve, and Nathan and Heidi announced their engagement then. It was the only way to make loving each other safe.
***
Nathan hasn't been a good man in many ways. He deserted Meredith rather than resign from Annapolis and the price he paid was her death, their child's death. Here in this room -- where watching television is painful, where his hands are so swollen he can't read a book-- he can acknowledge the thrill that went through him when he heard her voice, and the pain he felt for loving Heidi so much after failing Meredith so badly.
He failed Heidi, too. He knew no one would ever believe it, but, until the accident, Nathan never cheated on his wife. The first couple of weeks he knew her, over a decade ago, he still had another girl in his life. Once he decided Heidi was someone serious, he broke it off with Jennifer (it seemed for awhile like every second girl he asked out was named Jennifer.).
It couldn't be said he never looked at another woman. Nathan looked, and he appreciated the beautiful women he saw around him. But Nathan made commitments -- to the military, to prosecuting crime, to his marriage -- and would not willingly break them. The car accident had broken him, in some ways more than Heidi.
For the first time, Nathan burned for revenge. Revenge had a sting in its tail named Niki, a sweet woman, a moment out of time. Six months without the physical side of love and he'd cast away his marriage vows. In his heart, he'd do it again. The sex was great, no doubt about that, but that was forgivable, even by Heidi. The betrayal was the kiss before Niki left him, not the sliding between the sheets when she returned.
A week later in Kirby Plaza, Peter was glowing. Claire was pointing a gun at him. Nathan still had time to notice Niki and her boy and be glad they would be safe too.
***
The words were still there. Remembrances of midnight masses, music playing at parties both elegant and raucous, gifts chosen with care and opened with joy -- Peter shares all of them.
One last vision of Nathan leaning toward Peter for that kiss under the mistletoe and Nathan's memory of Peter leaning toward him flares bright. For one perfect second, Nathan is whole, his arms around Peter's waist. He can feel Peter's arms around him and the quiet thrill as their lips meet. His blood pounds through him vivid in the present as he feels the past claim him. Peter's lips part his; Nathan's tongue explores Peter.
For one moment, Peter is with Nathan. His body strong, his hair short, his eyes joyful and Nathan's heart skips a beat from pure love.
As the sensations begin to fade, Nathan presses the button for more morphine, and follows the memories of love into sleep.