Comments | hogwarts_hocus: [Closed RP: Sylar and Peter] Five Days Later

likeabadpenny in hogwarts_hocus

[Closed RP: Sylar and Peter] Five Days Later

Jul 28, 2007 21:53

((OOC: Any and all details about Sylar have been cleared with the mun first!))

( In your own blaze of hate you've spawn a fear in many lives/ You've taken action thinking it was all said on the signs./ Now I have time to dwell on, self-awareness, dreadful crime./ I saw colors too bright, not knowing that I was blind./ To think you are right/ To make sure it won't fly/ Is a making of a hate crime. )

sylar gray, nathan petrelli, peter petrelli, rp

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soopernathan July 30 2007, 17:59:05 UTC

Okay. Slytherin? Way more intricate than Nathan had given it credit for.

After he'd gotten sorted to this Godforsaken place - at least the same house as Peter, according to the roster - he'd definitely started poking around. Getting a feel for Slytherin. Making careful note of the fact that half of this house was made up of dungeons. Taking a bit of advantage of the house elves. ...Seeing if Peter had really made do on that threat to attack Sylar, and if he was going to actually turn up somewhere around the school with something shoved inside of his skull.

Dungeons. He still couldn't believe this damn school had dungeons. He had to have spent at least two hours already searching through this labyrinth, tie and jacket abandoned back in the dormitory. His shirt was rumpled, undone at the color, even his hair wasn't its normally perfect coif right now. It wasn't often Nathan Petrelli could be found too disheveled, and... well, this was the closest he got to it, really. ...Pajama pants and lack of a shirt not counted in the equation ( ... )

likeabadpenny July 30 2007, 18:14:05 UTC

Passage of time clearly meant absolutely nothing when you were dead, because Peter could have sworn that it had only been a second ago that Sylar was shoving something into his head. It was like a blink, and suddenly he was coughing lung-rattling hacks and trying to gasp for breath in-between. Peter would never get used to the feeling of his brain and skull knitting back together, much less the crack-and-squish sound he could hear, amplified because it was coming from inside his own head.

"Nathan, what...?" Peter blinked heavily, noting absently that such an action was a little harder when blood had partially dried over his face. Attempting to focus, he squinted.

Nathan was here? ...That didn't make sense, he'd just... been fighting with Sylar and now everything was different. Same room, though. God, his limbs felt entirely too heavy to move. Getting up to get a better idea of what had happened just wasn't an issue right now.

"When did you get here?" He asked blearily. He didn't often see that look on his brother's face, and it ( ... )

soopernathan July 30 2007, 18:31:51 UTC

There was definitely that patch of seconds - just a few of them, ten, maybe, stretched out to the span of half of Nathan's lifetime - when he was absolutely certain Peter was going to not come back. He knew Peter had that healing power, and he knew that this school had a supposed... charm on it or something that meant people couldn't actually die here (God, this place just got weirder and weirder and he had to be going fucking nuts), and yet there was that paranoid sort of feeling that, shit, he'd just lost his brother.

Peter sputtering back into life, almost like an engine turning over or something, was like freaking music to Nathan's ears, and Peter barely had time to get out his sentence before Nathan was pulling him into a hug, both arms clasped around him so tightly he had to be nearly suffocating the poor kid. "Just a minute ago, yeah? And let's not make so much with the talking when you were just dead five seconds ago." And freaking the shit out of his older brother, thank you.

"What the HELL, Peter?"

likeabadpenny July 30 2007, 18:43:12 UTC

'Just a minute ago' meant that at least some time had passed, but it just confused Peter more. He could have been lying there for days and he wouldn't have felt the passage of time. God, he really had to stop dying so much, it was causing havoc with his perception of time.

"How long have-" He started, only to be cut off by Nathan's rather crushing hug. Not that Peter minded, except he couldn't return it because his arms were being squished and his shoulder still kind of hurt. "I hear that whole breathing thing is kinda important," Peter wheezed, but otherwise didn't protest. After blowing up and coming here, spending a week listening to a serial killers thoughts and then dying, he really needed a hug.

Okay, maybe how long he'd been dead wasn't such an important issue. "Sorry," he said, probably muffled, but he really was sorry that Nathan had just had to pull a pole out of his head. It couldn't have been pleasant.

soopernathan July 30 2007, 18:58:06 UTC

And... no. Nathan gave Peter one final squish, not quite letting go yet, as if to say, 'shut up, you do not need to breath as much as I need to hug you right now'. But, really, breathing was kind of a necessity, even when you were Peter and you could heal a freaking gouge in his forehead, wide enough for Nathan to see straight through before it had started healing.

"Shut up," Nathan automatically griped once Peter apologized, and why the hell was he saying he was sorry when he was the one that had ended up with a pole through his head? Granted, this never would have happened if Peter just hadn't gone after that Sylar guy in the first place, but... never mind.

If he didn't remember anything... Peter had gone off to 'handle' Sylar almost six days ago, Nathan had just gotten sorted earlier today... He didn't want to think about how long Peter had been sprawling across the floor, a few feet of metal protruding from his forehead.

likeabadpenny July 30 2007, 19:10:02 UTC

Despite the situation, Peter smiled slightly at Nathan's rather insistent hugging. He definitely wasn't going to complain, and if Nathan needed to squeeze the air out of him to make himself feel better, then that was okay. He could hold off breathing for a few minutes.

And typical Nathan, not even accepting his apology and - shit. Shit Where did Sylar go?

Prying himself away from Nathan and awkwardly finding a sitting position on the floor, Peter looked around the room hurriedly. Battered looking chair, check. Medical supplies... mostly check. But if Nathan was here, Sylar had clearly gone. Confused, Peter looked back over at his brother. "Did you see where Sylar went? I have to stop him, I have to-"

Oh. He remembered now. Not just Sylar escaping, but that he'd practically let it happen. Peter snorted softly, raking a hand through his hair and grimacing slightly when it came out caked in blood. "Guess I should probably look into ways of how to get blood out of clothing, huh?" He commented, smiling slightly in self-depreciation.

soopernathan July 31 2007, 03:30:33 UTC

Peter was jerking away and... huh? Was he kidding?

Nathan blinked once, looking at Peter for a moment like he had a few extra chromosomes, and automatically started rubbing at his forehead, furiously. Why, Peter? Why? Peter shows up, dead - even if it was only for a while, dead - and he automatically starts in with the Sylar business? That had to have been who had done this, right? God, Nathan was going to kill this asshole himself, if it came down to it.

"Sylar? Are you for serious?" Nathan automatically blurted, gawking for a few seconds in a rather domineering manner. He grabbed Peter's shoulder, staring him in the eyes with that matter-of-factual look that only a US Congressman could pull off. "You just woke up with a fucking steel rod through your head, and you're worried about Sylar right now?" With a roll of his eyes, he released the Peter shoulder death grip and clapped a hand on his knee. "Do you want to give me a heart attack? God ( ... )

likeabadpenny July 31 2007, 04:02:33 UTC

"Well it's not like it's still through my head," Peter protested half-heartedly, even though he'd already abandoned the idea of going after Sylar. People would be okay, they couldn't die here. And if he went down the optimist route, then that would stop Sylar from getting anywhere near their brains.

Rubbing the back of his head, Peter slowly stood up. He didn't want to give Nathan a heart-attack over these things, and maybe it would be better for both of them if Peter just... stopped trying to save the world. Honestly, he didn't know if he had any energy left to do it with.

At least it didn't look like the room had been damaged - Peter didn't want to be guilty of property damage on top of everything else. For a moment, he stared at his blood on the floor, contemplating how to get rid of it. "Guess you were right. Maybe it's time that I recognized that... life is bigger than I am," Peter reflected, a bitter half-smile twisting his expression. Maybe Nathan would actually like an idea of his, for once.

soopernathan July 31 2007, 04:19:54 UTC

And... no. That was not an arguable point. At all. Nathan clapped a palm to his forehead in frustration, gritting his teeth together and, Peter. God, freaking Peter. Not in your head because I took it OUT of your head, you little shit, he wanted to seethe in return, and just... didn't say much of anything. Other than a strange sort of irritated mumble that, under his breath, came out to a word roughly the same sound as 'mimblewimble'.

All that frustration, and yet Peter mentioning something about... that... possibly freaked out more. Peter, the dreamer. Nathan, always telling him to snap out of it. To jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, or how much easier life would be if Peter had snapped his neck. The last thing he wanted was Peter to follow the path of their father.

"What're you talking about, man?" he asked slowly, eyebrow gradually quirking as he fixed Peter with a look that... probably would have pierced straight through his skin, if he had more than one characteristic in common with Clark Kent.

likeabadpenny July 31 2007, 04:39:31 UTC

Peter didn't really know what he was talking about. He did, but from Nathan's point of view it had to be pretty random. Peter shrugged slightly, crouching down to sort out the box of medical supplies. There was still a sizable amount of sedative in there, which he should probably get rid of, or just donate to the Hospital Wing.

"I don't know," he muttered, fidgeting with a spare hypodermic needle, his back to Nathan. Compulsively, he rubbed the back of his head again. "I'm too tired for this." It wasn't like he was going to make a difference, anyway. "Everytime I try to help, I just end up screwing up."

At this rate, more people were likely to die because of him. He'd nearly blown up New York, nearly blown up this castle just because he got a little angry. Maybe if he just went back to nursing, kept a low profile. He could intervene if Sylar was trying to kill somebody, but... his plans just weren't working at the moment. So much for saving the world.

soopernathan July 31 2007, 04:50:08 UTC

For the first time since he'd come in here, Nathan was actually paying attention to just what the hell Peter had set up here. A box of medical supplies, an abandoned chair in the corner with restraints still attached to the thing... What the hell did he do, anyway? Kidnap this Sylar guy, tie him to a freaking chair and... What was all of that anyway? Tranquilizers or sedatives or something? Jesus. Didn't work so well.

Nathan crossed to Peter, frowning, and reaching out to clap a hand onto the guy's shoulder. Christ, here they go. "Pete," he reasoned in a flat sort of voice, furrowing his eyebrows at his brother with a sigh. "You just... exploded a week ago. Remember that?" Eyebrows jumping nearly to his hairline, he rubbed at Peter's shoulder a bit, in a manner that might have been consoling. "Just... give yourself a break, man, seriously. Not everything has to be about saving the world with you, you know."

likeabadpenny July 31 2007, 08:52:53 UTC

Mollified, Peter nodded once, wondering why the fact that Nathan was rubbing his shoulder was making him sway slightly. God, he was tired. Claire's regeneration didn't make up for the sleep-deprivation, and he was probably still short on blood, too. He'd tested what powers he could, but when it came to purposefully injuring himself for study, Peter was a bit too chicken to try. Something about tempting fate, maybe.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, closing the lid of the supplies box and staring at it. He really did need a break. Preferably one that involved doing absolutely nothing and not having to worry about Sylar. But if he did absolutely nothing, then he'd have to think, and he really didn't want to ponder anymore on what he'd heard in Sylar's mind.

Bracing one hand on the wall, Peter stood slowly, tucking the box under his arm. He'd come back for the chair later. "When are you leaving?" ...He hadn't meant to sound quite so dejected over that, but Peter never could hide his emotions very well.

soopernathan July 31 2007, 14:06:25 UTC

Peter didn't look so hot, at all, and, no, not just because of the whole... blood streaked across his face and caked in his hair thing. He was wavering all over the place and, for a minute, Nathan almost didn't release his shoulder, in case the kid collapsed right there or something. "Jeez, Pete, did you even sleep at all?" Beat, furrowed eyebrows. "Eat? Did you... shit, when was the last time you ate? God." He was so going to kick his ass once he was done here ( ... )

likeabadpenny July 31 2007, 14:18:02 UTC

"What?" For a moment, it sounded like Peter had forgotten what the acts of eating and sleeping actually were. He blinked owlishly, trying to get his brain to catch up and remember the last time he'd actually done these things. At times like this, he really wished his brain were bionic, that way it could actually give him an error message when searching for something, instead of struggling to remember. That would be so useful.

Well, obviously it hadn't been recently. "I... don't know?" He replied, a faint grin forming in his expression. Sleep deprivation made everything so much funnier.

And Nathan had a point - if he wanted to talk, the least he could do was actually wash the blood off. A childhood in the Petrelli household had at least taught him some manners. "Yeah, okay," Peter muttered, sounding dazed. "I think I need a shower or something. And after that we can talk. And you'll give me plenty of warning for when you leave."

Doorway... doorway, aha, there it was.

soopernathan July 31 2007, 14:38:15 UTC

Had Nathan heard the... strange thoughts going on in Peter's mind about bionic brains and all that, he probably would have been worrying a bit more for his brother's mental health than he was right now. Which was possible, promise, especially when bionic brains were being mentioned.

As it was, though, Nathan was just clapping a second hand onto Peter's other shoulder, entirely confident that he was going to have to steer the other Petrelli around the school as a precaution that the poor guy didn't just collapse in on himself halfway to the Slytherin dorm. "Jesus, Pete, you're weaving more than freaking Ted Kennedy," he grumbled under his breath, furrowing his eyebrows.

So, yes, couldn't have slept for a few days, at least, considering how quickly Peter's expression slipped into bemusement. Sleep deprivation definitely made everything so much funnier, and Peter was... cracking up at the mention of not eating and sleeping. Right. Absolutely going to kick his ass later. "Shower. Right. Good freaking plan, Christ ( ... )

likeabadpenny July 31 2007, 14:55:20 UTC

Well, that was fairly insulting. At least Peter hadn't killed anybody, so the reference to Ted Kennedy was completely meaningless. Peter frowned in annoyance, but nonetheless let Nathan steer him towards the door. He probably wouldn't have been able to walk in a straight line, otherwise.

Wait, no. He could. He didn't need Nathan's help. He could practically feel the disapproval radiating from Nathan, the same kind of disapproval Peter used to get when he was six years old and tried to make Nathan carry him everywhere.

"I don't need your help," Peter said huffily, trying to remove Nathan's hands from his shoulders and walk at the same time. It was hard, trying to multi-task. "Besides, you'll be leaving in a few days anyway, like always," he rambled.

Pause. Take a quick break from speaking to veer over the wall of the hallway, and use his shoulder to stay upright for a bit before continuing to walk. "...Where's my room, do you know?"

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