[Heroes] DRABBLE^2: "Stumble Through the Motion," Nathan, PG
Title: Stumble Through the Motion
Pairing: Gen-ish
Rating: PG
Summary: Every waking moment was a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd never have again.
Warnings: Implied Petrellicest. You're all shocked, I'm sure.
Notes: So this was supposed to be some really hot angsty!Nathan wanking porn. It...went in a different direction. Rest assured that I'm still sitting on the porn, and shall spring it on you when you least expect it. Thank you giventofly37 and vanitymachine, and to Jeffrey Foucault, who wrote the title. Double drabble, plus a few.
***
When Nathan was in the hospital, he'd lose time, just shut his eyes and then open them hours later. He'd wake to Peter swimming in his thoughts, remembered touch ghosting across his cracked and too-sensitive skin, but as soon as the sleep fell away from his cluttered head, Nathan was alone with the burns and the pain and the quiet liquid sound of the IV.
Every waking moment was a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd never have again. The fever-dreams had been almost a relief, in a way that suddenly waking up whole somehow wasn't.
Miraculous recovery, the doctor said. No permanent damage. No signs of scarring.
Yeah, well, Nathan can still see the scars. He just can't tell anyone about it, because they'd think he was insane. Not that there are a whole hell of a lot of people who don't already think that. Not like he's tried all that hard to correct them.
He tries to dull the want and the guilt with scotch, but there's nothing he can do about the empty apartment, about the sick feeling he gets when he looks in the mirror and sees a monster with his eyes.
Peter would understand, because Peter could make sense of anything. Peter believed in miracles.
Nathan doesn't, and that's why he's falling apart.
***
It wouldn't go away, I swear.
Pairing: Gen-ish
Rating: PG
Summary: Every waking moment was a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd never have again.
Warnings: Implied Petrellicest. You're all shocked, I'm sure.
Notes: So this was supposed to be some really hot angsty!Nathan wanking porn. It...went in a different direction. Rest assured that I'm still sitting on the porn, and shall spring it on you when you least expect it. Thank you giventofly37 and vanitymachine, and to Jeffrey Foucault, who wrote the title. Double drabble, plus a few.
***
When Nathan was in the hospital, he'd lose time, just shut his eyes and then open them hours later. He'd wake to Peter swimming in his thoughts, remembered touch ghosting across his cracked and too-sensitive skin, but as soon as the sleep fell away from his cluttered head, Nathan was alone with the burns and the pain and the quiet liquid sound of the IV.
Every waking moment was a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd never have again. The fever-dreams had been almost a relief, in a way that suddenly waking up whole somehow wasn't.
Miraculous recovery, the doctor said. No permanent damage. No signs of scarring.
Yeah, well, Nathan can still see the scars. He just can't tell anyone about it, because they'd think he was insane. Not that there are a whole hell of a lot of people who don't already think that. Not like he's tried all that hard to correct them.
He tries to dull the want and the guilt with scotch, but there's nothing he can do about the empty apartment, about the sick feeling he gets when he looks in the mirror and sees a monster with his eyes.
Peter would understand, because Peter could make sense of anything. Peter believed in miracles.
Nathan doesn't, and that's why he's falling apart.
***
It wouldn't go away, I swear.