Last Blood - Fic
Character: Peter Petrelli, Arthur Petrelli, Noah Bennet
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 731
Rating: R lots of violence.
Verse: The Company - Nathan died when Peter was 14. He's taken to the Company by Arthur. This story takes place 2 years after that.
Sweat was running down my back, and my knees felt like they were made of Jell-O. Every step made me want to cry. I was sick, but he didn’t care. When I stopped, leaning against a bright red door, my father turned to glare at me. His piercing blue eyes beneath his heavy graying brows showed his frustration with me.
“Peter. Is there a problem?” Arthur Petrelli slowly turned, his arms folded across his broad chest. “We have a schedule to keep.”
“I know, dad. I’m trying. I don’t feel good.” My stomach twisted just trying to make a sentence. He hated me. He wished I was dead instead of Nathan. I hadn’t been forced to absorb telepathy, but I didn’t need it. My empathy told me enough.
Arthur’s hand came at me fast, catching me across the cheek, then he grabbed my by the wrist, and yanked me away from the wall. I knew better than to protest. All I could do was wonder how bad the bruise would be, and why no one cared that he hurt me. I missed Nathan. I wanted my mother. I hated him.
“Good, hate me, Peter. That will at least get you motivated.” His hand moved up my arm until he was gripping just under my armpit. “Don’t you understand I’m trying to make you more than you are? That I’m doing this for you.”
“Please dad.” I fought back another wave of nausea and the tears that wanted to flow. He didn’t care that it was making me sick to take so many abilities. “But why can’t we skip a day? The next one could put me in a coma, dad. I was out for days last time. I haven’t had any dreams. I don’t understand why it has to all be at once.”
My back hit the wall, knocking the wind out of me as Arthur pinned me in place. “Maybe I should take them all away from you, Peter. Would you like that? You could go back to being no one and nobody. You have a destiny. I lost Nathan. I am not about to lose you to.”
Nathan wouldn’t have let him do this to me. I know that. “It’s not my fault Nathan died, dad. It’s not my fault Ma’s crazy either.”
“Shut up!” He didn’t hit me; instead he shook me and pushed me down the hall ahead of him. I stumbled and clutched my stomach as he came up to hover over me again, then stomped down my hand, twisting his foot. I screamed as bones bruised and broke, the skin tearing and blood ran down my fingers as I rolled away. “I can’t believe you’re the key to any of this.”
I should fight back. I could use one of powers he’d forced on me, but I didn’t have control of them. He never gave me time to learn to use them. Never gave me time for anything. I had no life. I had no freedom. I wasn’t allowed to say good bye to Nathan. Wasn’t allowed to visit my mother in the asylum he put her in.
“Mr. Petrelli.” I looked up through my hair to see Noah standing there. He was trying not to give too much away, but I could tell he wanted to shoot my father. I would have let him too, but Arthur would hurt him if he failed. I didn’t want Noah hurt. He was nice to me. “There’s an issue you need to take care of on level two. Monroe is protesting his new room. I’ll take Peter down to the infirmary.”
My father straightened his cuffs and didn’t give me another look as he stalked toward Noah. “I’ll have a chat with Monroe. I think it’s time Peter met him, don’t you?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, sir.” Noah waited until he was gone to help me up, wrapping a handkerchief around my hand. “Peter, why did you fight him?”
“He…he hates me, Noah. I tried to keep my mouth shut. I did, but it’s making me sick. Who’s Monroe, and why do you think it’s a good idea for me to see him? Don’t I have enough powers?”
Noah’s lips thinned at the blood soaking into the cloth. “You need to see Monroe, so he can’t hurt you anymore, Peter. Come on. That’s going to need stitches.”
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 731
Rating: R lots of violence.
Verse: The Company - Nathan died when Peter was 14. He's taken to the Company by Arthur. This story takes place 2 years after that.
Sweat was running down my back, and my knees felt like they were made of Jell-O. Every step made me want to cry. I was sick, but he didn’t care. When I stopped, leaning against a bright red door, my father turned to glare at me. His piercing blue eyes beneath his heavy graying brows showed his frustration with me.
“Peter. Is there a problem?” Arthur Petrelli slowly turned, his arms folded across his broad chest. “We have a schedule to keep.”
“I know, dad. I’m trying. I don’t feel good.” My stomach twisted just trying to make a sentence. He hated me. He wished I was dead instead of Nathan. I hadn’t been forced to absorb telepathy, but I didn’t need it. My empathy told me enough.
Arthur’s hand came at me fast, catching me across the cheek, then he grabbed my by the wrist, and yanked me away from the wall. I knew better than to protest. All I could do was wonder how bad the bruise would be, and why no one cared that he hurt me. I missed Nathan. I wanted my mother. I hated him.
“Good, hate me, Peter. That will at least get you motivated.” His hand moved up my arm until he was gripping just under my armpit. “Don’t you understand I’m trying to make you more than you are? That I’m doing this for you.”
“Please dad.” I fought back another wave of nausea and the tears that wanted to flow. He didn’t care that it was making me sick to take so many abilities. “But why can’t we skip a day? The next one could put me in a coma, dad. I was out for days last time. I haven’t had any dreams. I don’t understand why it has to all be at once.”
My back hit the wall, knocking the wind out of me as Arthur pinned me in place. “Maybe I should take them all away from you, Peter. Would you like that? You could go back to being no one and nobody. You have a destiny. I lost Nathan. I am not about to lose you to.”
Nathan wouldn’t have let him do this to me. I know that. “It’s not my fault Nathan died, dad. It’s not my fault Ma’s crazy either.”
“Shut up!” He didn’t hit me; instead he shook me and pushed me down the hall ahead of him. I stumbled and clutched my stomach as he came up to hover over me again, then stomped down my hand, twisting his foot. I screamed as bones bruised and broke, the skin tearing and blood ran down my fingers as I rolled away. “I can’t believe you’re the key to any of this.”
I should fight back. I could use one of powers he’d forced on me, but I didn’t have control of them. He never gave me time to learn to use them. Never gave me time for anything. I had no life. I had no freedom. I wasn’t allowed to say good bye to Nathan. Wasn’t allowed to visit my mother in the asylum he put her in.
“Mr. Petrelli.” I looked up through my hair to see Noah standing there. He was trying not to give too much away, but I could tell he wanted to shoot my father. I would have let him too, but Arthur would hurt him if he failed. I didn’t want Noah hurt. He was nice to me. “There’s an issue you need to take care of on level two. Monroe is protesting his new room. I’ll take Peter down to the infirmary.”
My father straightened his cuffs and didn’t give me another look as he stalked toward Noah. “I’ll have a chat with Monroe. I think it’s time Peter met him, don’t you?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, sir.” Noah waited until he was gone to help me up, wrapping a handkerchief around my hand. “Peter, why did you fight him?”
“He…he hates me, Noah. I tried to keep my mouth shut. I did, but it’s making me sick. Who’s Monroe, and why do you think it’s a good idea for me to see him? Don’t I have enough powers?”
Noah’s lips thinned at the blood soaking into the cloth. “You need to see Monroe, so he can’t hurt you anymore, Peter. Come on. That’s going to need stitches.”