Heidi sat at the kitchen table waiting for her husband to come home from work. After spending the day with her children Nathan's mother kindly agreed to taking the boys off her hands for the evening so that she and Nathan could celebrate her birthday in peace
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He went to the kitchen, flung open the cabinet that contained his mismatched collection of dishes, and retrieved the half-bottle of Scotch whiskey that Nathan must have left there long ago. He brought it, and two glasses, out to the living room and set everything down on the coffee table. Just because he was pissed off didn't mean he couldn't be a gracious host, right?
"I don't have to get over anything," he said, pouring himself a small bit and swallowing some down. "Nathan is only doing damage control. How do you not see that? It's what he's done his whole damn life. You know that by now, don't you?"
Peter finished the drink, and slammed the glass down so hard it broke in his hand. He winced only reflexively, not really caring about the drops of blood that splashed onto the wooden table.
"Nathan isn't the man you think he is, Heidi," he spat, and immediately regretted the words even before he finished saying them.
Heidi might know why Peter wouldn't speak to her, but she really had no idea why he hadn't returned a single one of his brother's calls. And now Heidi was here, working him up into such an emotional frenzy that he couldn't control his runaway mind.
I'm running for Congress, Pete. You can't keep showing up here. This is the last time. We can't do this anymore, ever. You have to go.
Oh, okay, is that how it is? You can keep fucking those Hunter College sluts out there though, right? Fuck you, Nathan.
Nathan had shoved him out of his office and slammed the door after him, and Peter had just stood there stunned, heartbroken.
He couldn't remember ever feeling worse than he had at that moment, until now. And it was all because of his brother, again.
"I don't hate you, Heidi," he choked, overcome by a wave of unadulterated sadness that drowned his anger and flooded his heart. "I hate Nathan."
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When his hand started bleeding, she paled, she knew he had somewhat of a healing ability after what she had seen with her own eyes but those were some deep cuts. Heidi went into the bathroom and got a towel, to wrap around his wounds.
"You know the other night after you left I told him if he kept on this path of destruction, it would be one he would be walking alone. I was fully prepared to just leave, Peter; Take the kids, go back to living with my parents, be settled for a whole week before they tried to pair me up with the bank manager's son. I saw something in Nathan's eyes that night that was akin to terror, the idea that he could lose us? He couldn't handle it. So while this might just be damage control, he's put in a lot more effort in the last couple of weeks than he has in the past year and I for one want to give him the benefit of the doubt."
She pulled the towel away, a normal person and they might have fainted from blood loss by now but not Peter. "I'm not here to beg you to make nice with him, I'm here because I care about you. You can feel it, can't you?" Heidi asked curiously, her empathy was definitely at its strongest when she was around him and even though he was wild right now, Heidi believed she could calm him down.
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Heidi had a white bath towel wrapped around his hand and wrist, and Peter didn't even remember cutting himself. It didn't even hurt.
Nothing hurt, actually. The tears were drying on his face now, and he didn't even remember why he'd been crying. He didn't feel sad, or angry, or even lonely. Heidi was with him. He felt calm and peaceful. Relieved. Like maybe he should go to sleep and it would all be better tomorrow.
But I just got up. It's my birthday today. She came to wish me happy birthday. I forgot my own birthday...
When Heidi pulled back the towel to check on the severity of the wound, Peter watched in detached horror as a deluge of dark red blood poured down from his wrist and soaked into his T-shirt. His favorite pair of jeans was ruined. That towel had been white, hadn't it? He didn't own red towels...
"Heidi, I think you better call 911," Peter whispered dreamily, his eyelids so heavy he couldn't even keep them open. "I think I'm dying."
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The paramedics showed up shortly after, including a friend of Peter's whom Heidi recognized. He did his best to comfort her while his fellow paramedic checked on Peter. "We're going to have to take him to the hospital, Mrs. Petrelli." Robert said. She probably looked frantic and as pale as Peter did, and she bet Robert thought she needed treatment as well. "Will you be okay?" Robert asked.
"Yeah, I called my husband he's coming over, just please, look after him?"
Robert nodded and then went to assist in taking Peter out of the apartment and downstairs to the ambulance. In the empty apartment that now smelled like blood, it made her nauseous, her body shivering, she collapsed to the floor and threw up then started crying.
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"Daddy, can we go outside to play catch later?" Monty asked plaintively. "I wanna play baseball when I'm old enough and Mommy says you could teach me."
"Of course, buddy. I bet you'll be really good at it, too," Nathan replied.
The phone started ringing, but Nathan let the answering machine get the call; Monty was sitting in his lap with a full glass of iced tea and there was no way Nathan was taking the chance of him spilling it all over the expensive deep-pile carpet.
Nate, are you there? Pick up. Listen I'm with Peter, but he's in a bad way, I've called the paramedics...just, please? I'm scared.
Of course, Nathan bolted to his feet and set Monty down on the couch in one swift motion, and the iced tea splattered all over Monty, himself, and said carpet. And the Italian leather sofa. "Shit," he murmured.
"Daddy!" Monty shrieked. "That's a bad word!"
"That's right, and I shouldn't have said it. Good boy. Don't tell your mom." Nathan turned to Simon and placed his hands on his elder son's shoulders.
"Simon, I need you to listen to me, okay? I have to go right now. Your Uncle Peter is sick and he needs me. I'm going to call Grandma and she's going to come get you, okay? Until then, you take your brother upstairs and help him get cleaned up and changed. Use only the sink. You got it?"
"Yeah, I got it. Is Uncle Peter gonna be okay?" Simon asked, taking Monty by the hand and leading him to the stairs.
"He's gonna be fine, bud. Watch over your brother," Nathan commanded, wishing he'd been doing the same. What the hell had Peter done to himself now?
His heart was in his throat, and his hands started to shake as he went outside to the backyard and took off into the bright afternoon sky. His thoughts raced as fast as his flight to Peter's apartment.
Did he try to kill himself? With Heidi standing right there? Oh, my God, what if he doesn't make it? What if it's my fault?
He landed in a deserted side street where he was relatively sure no one would see him, and then he clambered up the seven flights of stairs to Peter's apartment. The door was open, thank God, because he'd forgotten his keys in his haste.
Nathan burst inside and went straight for Heidi, who was shaking and crying and huddled in the middle of Peter's living room. She'd thrown up apparently. The air had an acrid, metallic smell, and once he looked at the sofa, he knew just why. The sight of so much blood -- Peter's blood -- made him feel lightheaded.
"Honey, it's gonna be okay. Let me get you some water."
He went to the kitchen, ran some tap water into a glass for her, and brought it to her, helped her take a sip. Then he reached right for the bottle of Scotch on the table, poured himself some into the glass that wasn't shattered and bloody, and drank it in one swallow. Just to calm his nerves. Heidi would understand.
"What the hell happened to him, Heidi?"
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"I just wanted to talk," Heidi said through her tears as she cradled the glass of water in her hands, every now and then taking a sip. He throat felt like it had closed up and she was desperate for relief. "He expressed his displeasure in the fact that I saw fit to give you a second chance and I guess he squeezed his scotch glass so hard that it broke and went everywhere. I tried to help him but there was so much blood Nathan, it wasn't stopping."
Peter looked surprised by that too like he thought he was going to be okay but suddenly his ability just wasn't there. "I shouldn't have come here," Heidi said quietly, this was her fault. "But we have to go now to the hospital, he can't be there alone." Heidi put her glass down and was still quite shaken as she uneasily walked to the door. She looked back at Nathan. "Where are the kids?" She hoped he hadn't brought them along.
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No sense in worrying about that now. Obviously that regenerative ability was gone, and Nathan had to have faith that the New York City healthcare system would save his brother's life.
"The kids are with Ma. I didn't take my car. Ask me how later. Where's the SUV parked?" Nathan answered her, helping Heidi get down the seven flights of stairs as quickly as safety would allow.
Once Heidi was buckled inside the car, Nathan got in the driver's seat, then rolled down the passenger side window. "If you feel sick, you throw up right out that window. I'm not stopping."
With a squeal of rubber on asphalt, Nathan floored the accelerator and drove as fast as he possibly could towards the hospital closest to this part of the city. He then picked up his cell phone and speed-dialed his mother.
"Ma, it's Nathan. I don't want to worry you, but Peter's at the hospital, he had a mishap. I'm on my way there now. Simon and Monty are at the house, I couldn't take them with me. Please stay with them until I call you back, all right?"
"Nathan, slow down. What happened?" his mother replied, her worry evident regardless of how he could have explained any situation regarding Peter. His mother had always favored his younger brother, and while that didn't bother Nathan, he just didn't have time to reassure her.
"I gotta go, Ma. I'll call you back." Nathan ended the call and looked over at Heidi. She still looked pale, and her hands were smeared with his brother's blood.
"You doing okay, baby? We're almost there."
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"I'm not doing okay, no," Heidi answered, at first she thought it was because of shock that she felt sick, but maybe there was more to it? Heidi scrambled to open the glove compartment between the seats and pulled out a paper bag to first breathe into, then throw up in. "It's been a while since I've felt this sick." She was usually a very healthy person, she put it down to the shock of seeing so much blood.
"Are we there yet?" She as one of their sons might do on a long car ride, maybe when they got there, she could take a nap in the car while Nathan sat with Peter.
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