Heroes fanfiction: Peter/The Haitian: The Debts of Brotherhood.
Title: The Debts of Brotherhood.
Pairing: slight Peter Petrelli/The Haitian. More alluding to something.
Rating: PG, perhaps hitting some more mature themes.
Word count: 1242.
Spoilers: Only up to The Eclipse: Part Two.
Summary: In the Jungle of Haiti, Peter muses on what it is to be a brother and a hero.
Note: Mistakes evident due to no beta. I'm open to all of your input.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
The sun isn’t covered anymore, but Peter’s brain is still cloudy with information.
He’s never really been someone to go outside the city limits, but here he is in the jungle of Haiti for goodness sakes. The trees above seem to be mocking him, as their roots continue to trip him as he makes his way, safely, to the American Embassy in Port-au-Prince.
The Haitian just destroyed the mind of the local ‘God’. He’s glad that it happened, but he just wishes that they didn’t have to be so tentative in their trip.
“Peter, be careful. As a boy, I often found myself in dangerous situations because I, hotheadedly, roamed these areas. They call New York City the Concrete Jungle, but it doesn’t really compare to here, does it?”
This is the most he’s even heard from the Haitian, and he’s glad that they have this trust. Peter just wishes that he wasn’t such a liability. He wishes he was like…
‘No, none of that,’ his eyes search the vines and branches for webs, ‘you know Nathan better than anyone. Why would you be him? Look at his choices…his choice, a short hour ago…’
Nathan has done some stupid things in the past (plan to sacrifice his brother for the presidency, check), but not one of those choices measures up to the stupidity of turning to Arthur Petrelli.
“My father was very much like my brother. In fact, my father was our village God. He was everything to everyone. And I took that away. You Peter have only done what you wanted for everyone. I, as a boy, did what I wanted for myself.”
Peter stops for a second, and the Haitian follows. He doesn’t look, doesn’t search Peter for a reason, and takes the rest opportunity to survey the area. Possibly to make sure they are still on track, but that thought isn’t the most comforting.
“I’ve learned more about you in an hour than I have in all the other times we’ve talk.”
“You know that hasn’t been much. In fact, I believe this hour is longer than all the other times we’ve talked.” Is that a smirk?
“One,” Peter says, ignoring it as he takes a drink, “you constantly refer to yourself ‘as a boy’. That means you are either living in the past or unsure about your adolescence and adulthood. Two, you are ridiculously good at reading people. Which is not apart of your gift, or is it?”
They are walking again, and Peter thinks he sees a road ahead.
“I know you are a nurse, so I’m guessing that statement is evidence of your psych rotation? Peter, you yourself are very gifted in reading others. You wouldn’t have become a nurse, you wouldn’t have been an empath, if that wasn’t so.”
Peter actually laughs, despite the fact that it seems like forever since he did that last. There is a road ahead, and as the trees begin to part, something just seems to hit him.
His companion, The Haitian, recently completely fried the brain of his brother. Sure, they were not close like certain others, but they were blood. He was able to look over that to see the truth: the pain his brother caused others was more than the pain it would cause himself to take care of it.
Arthur Petrelli, Peter knows this best, can turn anyone into something dangerous. Anything. Including Nathan. And in that moment, if Nathan becomes someone searching for power more than aid, would Peter be able to do the same thing?
Of course not. Nathan would never turn into that. Nathan was stronger than he seemed. Nathan could…
There he went again. His mother was always right; Peter let his hero worship of Nathan cloud his judgment too many times before. But destroying, perhaps even killing…that was something completely different than waking up to smell the roses.
Peter speaks before he realizes it:
“How did it feel? How did you know it was the right thing? To destroy all that your brother could remember? I…I am not condemning it. I just know…”
“That it is something you could not do. It is not something many could, Peter, and that is a good thing. What I did was the greatest slight against the bond family share. But my brother, my half-brother, was the product of my father’s flippancy. He was exerting his power over the weak, both of them. I’ve known for a very long time that the weak, Peter, were not those without powers. They were those without souls. My brother was a part of them. He seemed strong, seemed powerful, but was only a man with impenetrable skin. And that needed to be shown to all whom he wronged.”
The road is under their feet and they rest, the Haitian clearing his throat from the atypical usage of it. Peter is amazed, completely enthralled, with everything around him.
“All my life, I’ve been the younger son, the younger brother, the dreamer, or the sweet kid. I’ve never been the person someone looked up to. Then I had powers and I could do more than anyone else in the world. I went from a hospice nurse to powerful enough to blow up half of New York. And yet, I’m still Nathan’s little brother, whose hair he can ruffle and push away. I’m powerless, stuck, and confused. Yet you…you’ve been through a million times more, and end up stronger than anyone I know. You are a hero, to all of those people you saved from your brother, and I’m just a liability.”
It’s self-pity and it is annoying. Peter just can’t help from feel that despite all he’s learned he hasn’t grown, and it is the most frustrating feeling he can think of; even more so than trying to find a way, any way, to Port-au-Prince.
Peter feels the slight glare on him before he turns to meet it. He’s always been a bit unnerved by that stare. The Haitian, a man of good build and tall height, is most intimidating when he is just staring, curiously or angrily or passionately (he’d imagine).
“That is ridiculous. You, Peter, are not a liability, to anyone. A liability is someone who rushes into what they cannot fix yet thinking they can. They are the people who bow down to power and not good. Most of all, they are those who set out with themselves in mind, instead of others. You are none of those, and I would think that you’d know that.”
The road connects to a major intersection, and they turn down the next street with a renewed purpose; a complete knowledge, on the Haitian’s part, of where they are and where they are going.
Peter, despite hearing this speech in one way or another from his family (Nathan, Mom, Claire) and his lovers (Caitlin, Simone), finally starts to believe it.
As a taxi moves into their view, Peter looks up to the bright sun, not even cupping his hand in protection over his eyes.
"Once we get back to the city, everything will be different. Nathan, my father; the way the world works could be completely changed by this one decision. Hell, I've seen what happens."
The taxi notices the Haitian's flag, and pulls to their side of the road. Leaning over, in rapid French, his guide negotiates the price of their ride. As the cab driver grumbles, The Haitian looks back at Peter.
"Then we will make sure it doesn't. Together."
And that is something Peter can believe in more than anything.
Pairing: slight Peter Petrelli/The Haitian. More alluding to something.
Rating: PG, perhaps hitting some more mature themes.
Word count: 1242.
Spoilers: Only up to The Eclipse: Part Two.
Summary: In the Jungle of Haiti, Peter muses on what it is to be a brother and a hero.
Note: Mistakes evident due to no beta. I'm open to all of your input.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
The sun isn’t covered anymore, but Peter’s brain is still cloudy with information.
He’s never really been someone to go outside the city limits, but here he is in the jungle of Haiti for goodness sakes. The trees above seem to be mocking him, as their roots continue to trip him as he makes his way, safely, to the American Embassy in Port-au-Prince.
The Haitian just destroyed the mind of the local ‘God’. He’s glad that it happened, but he just wishes that they didn’t have to be so tentative in their trip.
“Peter, be careful. As a boy, I often found myself in dangerous situations because I, hotheadedly, roamed these areas. They call New York City the Concrete Jungle, but it doesn’t really compare to here, does it?”
This is the most he’s even heard from the Haitian, and he’s glad that they have this trust. Peter just wishes that he wasn’t such a liability. He wishes he was like…
‘No, none of that,’ his eyes search the vines and branches for webs, ‘you know Nathan better than anyone. Why would you be him? Look at his choices…his choice, a short hour ago…’
Nathan has done some stupid things in the past (plan to sacrifice his brother for the presidency, check), but not one of those choices measures up to the stupidity of turning to Arthur Petrelli.
“My father was very much like my brother. In fact, my father was our village God. He was everything to everyone. And I took that away. You Peter have only done what you wanted for everyone. I, as a boy, did what I wanted for myself.”
Peter stops for a second, and the Haitian follows. He doesn’t look, doesn’t search Peter for a reason, and takes the rest opportunity to survey the area. Possibly to make sure they are still on track, but that thought isn’t the most comforting.
“I’ve learned more about you in an hour than I have in all the other times we’ve talk.”
“You know that hasn’t been much. In fact, I believe this hour is longer than all the other times we’ve talked.” Is that a smirk?
“One,” Peter says, ignoring it as he takes a drink, “you constantly refer to yourself ‘as a boy’. That means you are either living in the past or unsure about your adolescence and adulthood. Two, you are ridiculously good at reading people. Which is not apart of your gift, or is it?”
They are walking again, and Peter thinks he sees a road ahead.
“I know you are a nurse, so I’m guessing that statement is evidence of your psych rotation? Peter, you yourself are very gifted in reading others. You wouldn’t have become a nurse, you wouldn’t have been an empath, if that wasn’t so.”
Peter actually laughs, despite the fact that it seems like forever since he did that last. There is a road ahead, and as the trees begin to part, something just seems to hit him.
His companion, The Haitian, recently completely fried the brain of his brother. Sure, they were not close like certain others, but they were blood. He was able to look over that to see the truth: the pain his brother caused others was more than the pain it would cause himself to take care of it.
Arthur Petrelli, Peter knows this best, can turn anyone into something dangerous. Anything. Including Nathan. And in that moment, if Nathan becomes someone searching for power more than aid, would Peter be able to do the same thing?
Of course not. Nathan would never turn into that. Nathan was stronger than he seemed. Nathan could…
There he went again. His mother was always right; Peter let his hero worship of Nathan cloud his judgment too many times before. But destroying, perhaps even killing…that was something completely different than waking up to smell the roses.
Peter speaks before he realizes it:
“How did it feel? How did you know it was the right thing? To destroy all that your brother could remember? I…I am not condemning it. I just know…”
“That it is something you could not do. It is not something many could, Peter, and that is a good thing. What I did was the greatest slight against the bond family share. But my brother, my half-brother, was the product of my father’s flippancy. He was exerting his power over the weak, both of them. I’ve known for a very long time that the weak, Peter, were not those without powers. They were those without souls. My brother was a part of them. He seemed strong, seemed powerful, but was only a man with impenetrable skin. And that needed to be shown to all whom he wronged.”
The road is under their feet and they rest, the Haitian clearing his throat from the atypical usage of it. Peter is amazed, completely enthralled, with everything around him.
“All my life, I’ve been the younger son, the younger brother, the dreamer, or the sweet kid. I’ve never been the person someone looked up to. Then I had powers and I could do more than anyone else in the world. I went from a hospice nurse to powerful enough to blow up half of New York. And yet, I’m still Nathan’s little brother, whose hair he can ruffle and push away. I’m powerless, stuck, and confused. Yet you…you’ve been through a million times more, and end up stronger than anyone I know. You are a hero, to all of those people you saved from your brother, and I’m just a liability.”
It’s self-pity and it is annoying. Peter just can’t help from feel that despite all he’s learned he hasn’t grown, and it is the most frustrating feeling he can think of; even more so than trying to find a way, any way, to Port-au-Prince.
Peter feels the slight glare on him before he turns to meet it. He’s always been a bit unnerved by that stare. The Haitian, a man of good build and tall height, is most intimidating when he is just staring, curiously or angrily or passionately (he’d imagine).
“That is ridiculous. You, Peter, are not a liability, to anyone. A liability is someone who rushes into what they cannot fix yet thinking they can. They are the people who bow down to power and not good. Most of all, they are those who set out with themselves in mind, instead of others. You are none of those, and I would think that you’d know that.”
The road connects to a major intersection, and they turn down the next street with a renewed purpose; a complete knowledge, on the Haitian’s part, of where they are and where they are going.
Peter, despite hearing this speech in one way or another from his family (Nathan, Mom, Claire) and his lovers (Caitlin, Simone), finally starts to believe it.
As a taxi moves into their view, Peter looks up to the bright sun, not even cupping his hand in protection over his eyes.
"Once we get back to the city, everything will be different. Nathan, my father; the way the world works could be completely changed by this one decision. Hell, I've seen what happens."
The taxi notices the Haitian's flag, and pulls to their side of the road. Leaning over, in rapid French, his guide negotiates the price of their ride. As the cab driver grumbles, The Haitian looks back at Peter.
"Then we will make sure it doesn't. Together."
And that is something Peter can believe in more than anything.