Trial and Error: A Crack Fic
Everyone loves Fridays. It’s basically a proven fact that once work is done on a Friday, you celebrate the upcoming weekend with a little party time shared with friends.
“T.G.I.F!” Matt cried out as he entered Nathan’s apartment, six-pack held above his head in some sort of mock salute. Gathered around a card table in the living room the waiting players turned to look at him.
“Get your fat ass over here and let’s start the game.”
Nathan looked over at one of their newest poker night members “For someone who used to be called a mute you’re sure talking a lot.”
The Haitian shrugged and shuffled the cards “After years of not saying anything, I figured it would be a good time to start unleashing it now.”
Matt sat next to Nathan unbothered by the comment and nestled the beer safely between his feet. Nathan glanced down and shook his head at Matt’s obvious beer neurosis. He had heard in great detail what had happened that past Tuesday and knew that it had been a hard blow for Matt. And the fact that Mohinder was being stalked was messed up too.
“Man, am I happy to be away from the wife!” Matt joked, looking around the table and stopping once he made eye-contact with deep brown eyes.
“What is he doing here?” Matt hissed, glaring at the epic eyebrow man.
“We were short on players and he knows the game.” Nathan explained with a shrug “I know what happened, but I thought that we could all be adults here and put the past behind us.” he sent a smile to Sylar which the serial killer didn’t return. He just stared back eerily intense.
Nathan sucked his teeth “okay…”
“If you girls are done gossipin’…”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist Casper.” the Haitian replied, sliding the deck over to Claude so he could deal.
“Oh aren’t you a clever one!” Claude gasped sarcastically before he picked up the cards and shuffled them again.
They watched as Claude dealt their cards, each wishing that luck was on their side tonight. Hands hovered over their respective piles, eager to begin, and just as they went to pick them up, a thud came from the hallway closet.
Sylar’s brows furrowed and he turned around in his seat which creaked angrily in protest.
“What was that?”
The Haitian peered around him, looking at the hall closet questioningly as well.
“That,” Nathan answered bitterly “is Peter.”
Sylar turned around to look at the politician “You locked your own brother in the closet?”
“Peter’s in the closet!” Matt laughed, holding up his fist and lightly punching Nathan’s with his own; chuckling he adjusted himself and looked up, right at Claude’s disapproving face.
“What!?!?” the telepath asked in protest and the English man just shook his head not even wanting to grace him with a response.
“Is that surprising?” Nathan asked a bit taken a back considering who was asking the question.
“When I see you two, you seem pretty close.”
A soft hiss went around the table and Sylar looked around, obviously confused about his observation.
“What?” the killer questioned, genuinely naïve about the situation.
“Nathan can’t stand Peter,” Matt revealed, overcoming his dislike of the murderer “he has an ulcer and Heidi left him because of Peter, not because of his cheating.”
“Even I knew that, and I see them less than you do.” the Haitian said snidely and Sylar fixed him with a look, “If you think that I am intimidated by you and your ridiculous eyebrows, you are sadly mistaken.”
Sylar cocked his head to the side, a smirk twisting his lips “I liked you better when you were silent.”
“Let’s get back to the game.” Matt chided and reached a hand over his cards again, going to pick them up.
“Why is your brother in the closet?” the Haitian asked, directing his attention to Nathan.
Matt sighed and cradled his cheek in his hand, watching the conversation with dull eyes.
“Because Peter isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box,” the flying man answered matter-of-fact “and he’d ruin the game.”
“So why not leave him at home?” Sylar questioned smoothly again.
“Because then he’d cry himself to dehydration with Claude gone.” the older Petrelli answered tiredly, rubbing his temples.
The Haitian and Sylar looked at Claude expectantly and the bearded one shrugged, not wanting to be dragged into the discussion.
“I don’t think that it’s mentally healthy to keep your brother locked in a closet.” the serial killer stated simply, drumming his fingers against the felt top of the table.
“I don’t think it’s mentally healthy to go around cutting off the tops of people’s heads.” Nathan grumbled, staring at the sybrows.
“Hey, you say tomato…”
“Can we stop with the bloody interrogation and get on with it!” Claude growled, looking at all the participants.
Matt was currently watching the exchange with slight curiosity, enjoying the sight of Nathan getting aggravated.
“Fine.” Nathan stated, reaching for his cards when another thud stopped him from picking them up “Lord,” he hissed “Peter stay still!”
A muffled whimper made its way through the door and both Nathan and Claude hung their heads, an expression contorting their features in a way that is normally seen on battered, tired, and annoyed parents.
“Stay still!” Claude commanded, the entire party shifting uncomfortably. The sounds ceased and he breathed a sigh of relief, it was so rare when he got a breather away from the pup.
“Finally.” Matt grumbled and quickly snatched up his cards “Aha!” he cried victoriously, shaking them tauntingly in his grasp.
“I can see your cards.” Sylar said, his attention on his own cards as he re-arranged them carefully.
“No you can’t.” Matt chuckled, shaking his head.
“You have a 2 and a 6.” Sylar commented, still re-arranging.
“And a 5.” the Haitian added, his voice bored.
“You guys suck.” Matt snapped, hiding his cards below his cupped hand.
“No one told you to wave them around.” Nathan shrugged.
“Et tu Brute?” Matt remarked disbelievingly, looking at his friend.
Nathan ignored his comment, staring down at his hand intensely. Luck was definitely on his side. He tried with difficulty to hide a smile and settled for clearing his throat and looking around the table confidently.
Claude was busy flicking a lighter and putting it to his waiting cigar, inhaling the smoke greedily “You look like you just got your jollies off Petrelli.”
Nathan looked at the British man innocently “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
The politician made a mental note to stop inviting Claude to game night, he was too observant and therefore a dangerous opponent.
Sylar opened his mouth to say something when a pitiful whine pierced the air, pulling their attention back towards the closet.
“Did you feed him?” Nathan questioned the older man and Claude nodded “He’s normally not this bad.”
“Maybe we should let him out…” Matt suggested carefully.
Nathan spun on him, “Remember what happened last time we let him out?”
“He only baked us cookies.”
“He was chanting the entire time!” Nathan and Claude fumed in unison.
“Maybe we could gag him.” Sylar said nonchalantly.
Four pairs of eyes regarded him with disgust and Sylar looked around at them “It was just a suggestion!”
“You’re sick.” Nathan stated slowly, the shock evident in his voice.
Sylar looked around the table aghast, his arms open wide as if asking ‘What’d I say!?”
Nathan chuckled and waved his hand through the air “I’m just pulling your leg Gray, we’ve tried gagging him before.”
“Little bugger manages to get it off.” Claude reported gruffly.
“Can we please just get back to the game?” the Haitian shifted impatiently in his seat, “I only have so much time away from Bennet before he starts getting antsy.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you two were together.” Nathan said, fingering his cards.
“Isn’t he married?” Matt asked curiously.
“We’re not together.” the Haitian pointed out, looking down at his hand.
When he looked back up he noticed their dead-pan expressions, “We’re not!”
“Whatever you say wifey.” Nathan jested, smiling slightly.
“I will make you forget your child support payments Nathan, do not test me.”
Nathan grumbled a quiet apology and reached towards the center of the table to flip over a card when- for what seemed the hundredth time that night -a sound emitted from the closet.
“PETER!!!” Nathan roared and stood, angrily stomping over to the closet door.
“Don’t do anything rash Petrelli!” Sylar warned.
“Shut up!” Nathan spat and yanked open the door.
“I’m Freeeeeee!!!” Peter cried out joyously and sped past his older brother, bounding over to the card table.
“Oh for Fuck’s sake!” Claude groaned and put a hand over his eyes.
“Hi Matt!” Peter greeted enthusiastically.
“Hey Peter.” the telepath smiled, enjoying the current situation completely.
Peter greeted the Haitian in a similar fashion, but when he got to Sylar he stopped and gasped.
“What’s he doing here?” he asked quietly, shuffling to hide behind Matt.
Nathan was glaring hard over at his younger brother, “He’s here to play.”
“But he’s a killer!” Peter argued “And he stalks Momo! He’s a bad bad man…”
“Momo,” Sylar chuckled, “that’s cute. But no one talks about my chocolate prince!” the murderer finished darkly and Peter whimpered, ducking behind Matt’s chair.
“Chocolate Prince?” the Haitian asked incredulously.
“Yeah, I thought of it in the ice cream shop the other day.” Sylar admitted briskly, “It’s so fitting.”
“Right…” the Haitian trailed off, obviously disturbed.
An awkward silence fell on the group as they processed this new, really unsettling, piece of information.
“It does fit actually.” Peter admitted finally and both Nathan and Claude shot him looks, “What?!”
Matt shook his head sadly, “Man, that’s going to haunt my dreams tonight.” he gave a slight shutter to emphasize his point.
“You’re all so quick to judge.” Sylar growled.
“Are you guys playing UNO again?” Peter inquired excitedly, bouncing up straight.
“Peter,” Nathan sighed, aggravated “go make cookies.”
“Mm-Kay, CookiesCookiesCookiesCookies!”
The younger Petrelli trotted into the kitchen and Nathan, drained of all patience and energy, dropped down into his waiting chair overcome with annoyance and a pounding Peter migraine.
“You can’t start on a Wild Card.”
“I know Claude, I know.”
Chapter 5