What do I do now?
Character: Peter, Sylar, Nathan
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 485
Rating: PG
Prompt: Curing the sick lion for 100_fairytales
Notes: Missing scene for - S4 Brother's Keeper
It’s true, all of it’s true. I want to puke, but I can’t. Nathan’s a mess. His hand’s shaking, but I can’t make myself reach out to touch him. I haven’t since I took flight from him at the Grand Canyon before we flew back here to my place. Now I’m watching while he tries to drown the conflicting memories in his head with cheap booze.
“Why is this happening to me, Pete?” His eyes are filled with so much hurt and pain that I wince. I almost cringe when they shift to Sylar’s black and then back to Nathan’s. Somehow I manage not to do that.
“I don’t know.” I can’t breathe, getting up I throw open the window and take in big gulps of cold November air. He’s dead. My brother is dead, and my worst enemy is wearing his skin. But fuck if I can’t feel a little sorry for Sylar too. He didn’t ask for this either. What mom did is vile. There’s no other word for it.
I’m mad as hell that Nathan’s gone, and I can’t take the taste of bile out of my throat. But is this better? Is spending time with this doppelganger that carries my brother’s memories better than him being dead? His soul’s not in there. It can’t be. Memories don’t make a man. This is so fucked up.
Nathan, Sylar, Nathan gets up, staggering more than a little. I don’t know how he can be drunk. He’s got regeneration and every other power Sylar had, he can’t get drunk, but I guess Nathan’s memory is telling him he is.
It’s too bad that dad didn’t get all of my power, because I can still feel how much he hurts, or maybe I’ve got that much empathy. I don’t want to feel this from him. I want to hate him. I want to kill him. I want him to die for killing Nathan, but I can’t say any of it. I can’t send him out the window or find something to jam into the back of his skull to kill him.
I can’t do any of it because I love him. I love the parts of Nathan that are fighting to survive, and even though it’s cruel, I can’t let those go, not yet. I want to help him. I wish I knew how.
“What are you thinking, Peter?” Not Pete. That makes the hair on my arms stand up as I walk closer to the bed. Nathan’s sprawled face down in the pillows, but I don’t need the face to see that he’s changed. “You’re thinking so loud.”
“I’m worried about you, Nathan.”
“I’m worried about me too. We’ll get through this. We can do anything together.” He lets out a bitter laugh, and I watch, unable to turn away, as he shimmers back into the visage of my brother. “We’re the Petrelli brothers.”
100 Fairytales Table
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 485
Rating: PG
Prompt: Curing the sick lion for 100_fairytales
Notes: Missing scene for - S4 Brother's Keeper
It’s true, all of it’s true. I want to puke, but I can’t. Nathan’s a mess. His hand’s shaking, but I can’t make myself reach out to touch him. I haven’t since I took flight from him at the Grand Canyon before we flew back here to my place. Now I’m watching while he tries to drown the conflicting memories in his head with cheap booze.
“Why is this happening to me, Pete?” His eyes are filled with so much hurt and pain that I wince. I almost cringe when they shift to Sylar’s black and then back to Nathan’s. Somehow I manage not to do that.
“I don’t know.” I can’t breathe, getting up I throw open the window and take in big gulps of cold November air. He’s dead. My brother is dead, and my worst enemy is wearing his skin. But fuck if I can’t feel a little sorry for Sylar too. He didn’t ask for this either. What mom did is vile. There’s no other word for it.
I’m mad as hell that Nathan’s gone, and I can’t take the taste of bile out of my throat. But is this better? Is spending time with this doppelganger that carries my brother’s memories better than him being dead? His soul’s not in there. It can’t be. Memories don’t make a man. This is so fucked up.
Nathan, Sylar, Nathan gets up, staggering more than a little. I don’t know how he can be drunk. He’s got regeneration and every other power Sylar had, he can’t get drunk, but I guess Nathan’s memory is telling him he is.
It’s too bad that dad didn’t get all of my power, because I can still feel how much he hurts, or maybe I’ve got that much empathy. I don’t want to feel this from him. I want to hate him. I want to kill him. I want him to die for killing Nathan, but I can’t say any of it. I can’t send him out the window or find something to jam into the back of his skull to kill him.
I can’t do any of it because I love him. I love the parts of Nathan that are fighting to survive, and even though it’s cruel, I can’t let those go, not yet. I want to help him. I wish I knew how.
“What are you thinking, Peter?” Not Pete. That makes the hair on my arms stand up as I walk closer to the bed. Nathan’s sprawled face down in the pillows, but I don’t need the face to see that he’s changed. “You’re thinking so loud.”
“I’m worried about you, Nathan.”
“I’m worried about me too. We’ll get through this. We can do anything together.” He lets out a bitter laugh, and I watch, unable to turn away, as he shimmers back into the visage of my brother. “We’re the Petrelli brothers.”
100 Fairytales Table