charloft: Twosday: Is it better to give or recieve?
OOC: Backdated to the utmost. I mean, frighteningly so.
"Damn it."
"Nathan!"
Alright, so maybe it wasn't the best choice of words. Christmas at the Petrelli household is already tense enough as is, and something about his cursing is putting his mother on edge even more than usual. Which will not make tonight's party with all their 'friends' any easier. In fact, Nathan kind of wants to hide out in his room. But he'll be paraded around for a good long while before that happens.
But it can't be helped.
"He won't stop crying!" As if it was perfect justification for an act this scandalous. Nathan threw up his arms to add emphasis to his exasperation, and sighed when his mother shoved them back down again as she passed him to get out of the room. To where Peter was.
Only nine months old, and his brother was getting to be a bit too capable of getting attention. It wasn't right. All he had to do was open his mouth and wail and Angela went running. Or one of the nannies. Arthur was a different story, but that never served to make Nathan feel better.
He'd been told over and over again that he'd get used to this. A little brother was a good thing, he'd have someone to take care of that'd look up to him. And wasn't that great? No, it wasn't. Peter was a baby. Peter really couldn't do much of anything. It wasn't that he didn't love him, he did. But that didn't mean Peter wasn't driving him crazy.
Nathan was only twelve, why should he have to deal with all this?
"Nathan, come here."
It wasn't a request. Sometimes Angela could be as talented at orders as his father was. Nathan cinged, sighing again the deep sigh of the persecuted, and went into the living room. Where Peter was still crying. Would continue to cry. He'd been fed not to long ago, and unless he needed a diaper change, this really had to be about attention.
Angela stood in the middle of the living room, bouncing Peter gently as she held him, trying to get him to calm down. "I need your help." She ignored the look on Nathan's face, and after a pause to consider what she was thinking, sat down on the floor and set Peter in her lap. "We're going to try something."
"Okay." Shrugging, Nathan sat on the floor when she motioned for him to do so, looking at Peter. And Peter looked back. Slowly, as he sometimes did when Nathan came in the room for reasons no one had been able to explain, he stopped crying.
"He'd fallen." Angela explained, pleased that it'd worked. "He's been trying to walk for a few weeks now."
"Is he okay?" He frowned now, temporarily forgetting about his own issues for the sake of being concerned.
And his mother was that much more pleased in the process. "He's fine, it was a small spill in the playpen." She said dimissively, and set Peter up on his feet, holding him carefully. "Go get that toy of yours he likes."
What? "But Ma--"
"Nathan."
Nathan glared, ignoring Peter's curious look and getting to his feet. He ran up to his room, but took his sweet time getting the toy soldier that Peter'd been trying to get his little baby hands on for weeks. This was his, and though it'd been suggested he pass it on since he was getting too old for toys like this, he still wasn't interested in giving it up.
He'd just have to get it back after whatever his mother was planning was over. Nathan went back downstairs and into the living room, taking his place on the floor once again. His mother was standing now, holding Peter's hands while keeping him on his feet.
"Let's see if we can get him to walk today, hm?"
"Isn't he going to hurt himself?" When he noticed Peter's attention on the soldier, he put it behind his back and set it down. At what he could have sworn was a hurt look in response, he pretended he didn't feel guilty.
Angela shook her head. "Not if we do this right. I think if thinks it'll make you happy, he'll try harder. What do you think?"
Contemplating the notion, Nathan looked Peter over, then nodded. "I think so." He muttered, focusing in on the task at hand now. "Okay."
His mother smirked, but said nothing. "Alright. Let's try." Slowly, holding Peter's hands a bit tighter, she started moving him forward.
Peter instinctively took a step forward, wobbling slightly and looking unsure. He tried the failsafe method, falling on his butt. Angela didn't let go. Nathan sat up a little straighter. "Come on, you can do it." He didn't know why he was saying it, Peter couldn't understand him, but it felt like the right idea.
Looking to his brother, Peter considered, then took another step. Angela moved forward, satisfied. "Keep talking, Nathan."
"But he doesn't under--"
"Yes, he does. Keep talking."
Nathan frowned, and watched Peter, sitting forward now. "You can do it, keep going." He motioned for Peter to keep walking, and grinned when he took another step. "That's it."
The steps that followed started getting a little more confident. Peter smiled. Nathan smiled. "Peter, come on, over here." He didn't notice Angela's grip loosen slightly as the steps continued, just that Peter started moving faster.
When he wobbled again and almost went off to the side in spite of Nathan's encouragement, Angela caught him quickly and righted him, then loosened her grip again when he kept walking.
Nathan let out the breath he'd been holding, and kept right on talking. "That's good, Peter, you're almost there." He motioned to him, arms outstretched now.
He did, however, catch it when Angela finally let go.
And Peter kept right on walking.
Not necessarily steady, but entirely confident, Peter picked up his pace. By the time he got to Nathan, he was practically running. Nathan laughed and caught him as he fell into his lap, hugging him. "Good job, Pete." He muttered, kissing the top of his head and holding him. Peter laughed and babbled out his triumph in a mix of random words he'd been picking up and babyspeak, hugging him right back.
Angela smiled to herself, and shook her head. She straightened up, glancing to the kitchen when she heard one of the staff call her name. "I should take care of that." She looked down at her sons, and arched an eyebrow at Nathan, smirking. "Do you think you can keep an eye on him?"
"I got it." Nathan looked up, nodding quickly. "We're gonna try to do some more walking." A boy on a mission now.
Angela nodded. "Keep me updated on how that goes." She glanced to the kitchen when her name was called again, and rolled her eyes. Duty called, no matter how much she might've wanted to stay and watch this. She started out of the room, leaning down to kiss Nathan's head as she passed. "I'm proud of you."
Nathan nodded to the praise, brightened some, but didn't seem as interested as he was in getting Peter to stand again. "Thanks, Ma."
She laughed under her breath, walking to the kitchen. Angela looked back over her shoulder before she went inside, and smiled faintly, watching Nathan coach Peter into walking again.
And then her name was called again. This time, it was Arthur. Distracted, but clearly irritated. She'd make sure he saw the progress when he was slightly more capable of paying attention.
Her smile faded some. Angela shook her head, and went on to find out what her husband wanted first. Duty called.
Nathan sighed when Peter flopped on his butt a good fifteen minutes later, but still smiled some when Peter smiled at him. "Okay, we'll take a break. You did good." He promised, taking his little brother's hands in his own.
Then he noticed Peter's attentions sliding off elsewhere. Nathan looked back over his shoulder, following where Peter's gaze had gone to where his toy laid on the floor. He looked back at Peter's obvious interest, no less abated since the first time he'd latched onto it, and sighed.
"Okay."
Nathan got up and walked over, snatching up the toy and walking back. He set it down in front of Peter. "You can have it. You deserve it." He watched Peter light up, and grinned slightly when Peter took it, waving the toy around. "We'll work on walking some more later."
Maybe when he didn't have to talk to people at the party anymore, they could find a space of their own. That way Peter wouldn't be alone in the playpen all night. They could figure out something to do, Nathan would see to it. It couldn't be that hard.
Maybe.
Muse: Nathan Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1,479
"Damn it."
"Nathan!"
Alright, so maybe it wasn't the best choice of words. Christmas at the Petrelli household is already tense enough as is, and something about his cursing is putting his mother on edge even more than usual. Which will not make tonight's party with all their 'friends' any easier. In fact, Nathan kind of wants to hide out in his room. But he'll be paraded around for a good long while before that happens.
But it can't be helped.
"He won't stop crying!" As if it was perfect justification for an act this scandalous. Nathan threw up his arms to add emphasis to his exasperation, and sighed when his mother shoved them back down again as she passed him to get out of the room. To where Peter was.
Only nine months old, and his brother was getting to be a bit too capable of getting attention. It wasn't right. All he had to do was open his mouth and wail and Angela went running. Or one of the nannies. Arthur was a different story, but that never served to make Nathan feel better.
He'd been told over and over again that he'd get used to this. A little brother was a good thing, he'd have someone to take care of that'd look up to him. And wasn't that great? No, it wasn't. Peter was a baby. Peter really couldn't do much of anything. It wasn't that he didn't love him, he did. But that didn't mean Peter wasn't driving him crazy.
Nathan was only twelve, why should he have to deal with all this?
"Nathan, come here."
It wasn't a request. Sometimes Angela could be as talented at orders as his father was. Nathan cinged, sighing again the deep sigh of the persecuted, and went into the living room. Where Peter was still crying. Would continue to cry. He'd been fed not to long ago, and unless he needed a diaper change, this really had to be about attention.
Angela stood in the middle of the living room, bouncing Peter gently as she held him, trying to get him to calm down. "I need your help." She ignored the look on Nathan's face, and after a pause to consider what she was thinking, sat down on the floor and set Peter in her lap. "We're going to try something."
"Okay." Shrugging, Nathan sat on the floor when she motioned for him to do so, looking at Peter. And Peter looked back. Slowly, as he sometimes did when Nathan came in the room for reasons no one had been able to explain, he stopped crying.
"He'd fallen." Angela explained, pleased that it'd worked. "He's been trying to walk for a few weeks now."
"Is he okay?" He frowned now, temporarily forgetting about his own issues for the sake of being concerned.
And his mother was that much more pleased in the process. "He's fine, it was a small spill in the playpen." She said dimissively, and set Peter up on his feet, holding him carefully. "Go get that toy of yours he likes."
What? "But Ma--"
"Nathan."
Nathan glared, ignoring Peter's curious look and getting to his feet. He ran up to his room, but took his sweet time getting the toy soldier that Peter'd been trying to get his little baby hands on for weeks. This was his, and though it'd been suggested he pass it on since he was getting too old for toys like this, he still wasn't interested in giving it up.
He'd just have to get it back after whatever his mother was planning was over. Nathan went back downstairs and into the living room, taking his place on the floor once again. His mother was standing now, holding Peter's hands while keeping him on his feet.
"Let's see if we can get him to walk today, hm?"
"Isn't he going to hurt himself?" When he noticed Peter's attention on the soldier, he put it behind his back and set it down. At what he could have sworn was a hurt look in response, he pretended he didn't feel guilty.
Angela shook her head. "Not if we do this right. I think if thinks it'll make you happy, he'll try harder. What do you think?"
Contemplating the notion, Nathan looked Peter over, then nodded. "I think so." He muttered, focusing in on the task at hand now. "Okay."
His mother smirked, but said nothing. "Alright. Let's try." Slowly, holding Peter's hands a bit tighter, she started moving him forward.
Peter instinctively took a step forward, wobbling slightly and looking unsure. He tried the failsafe method, falling on his butt. Angela didn't let go. Nathan sat up a little straighter. "Come on, you can do it." He didn't know why he was saying it, Peter couldn't understand him, but it felt like the right idea.
Looking to his brother, Peter considered, then took another step. Angela moved forward, satisfied. "Keep talking, Nathan."
"But he doesn't under--"
"Yes, he does. Keep talking."
Nathan frowned, and watched Peter, sitting forward now. "You can do it, keep going." He motioned for Peter to keep walking, and grinned when he took another step. "That's it."
The steps that followed started getting a little more confident. Peter smiled. Nathan smiled. "Peter, come on, over here." He didn't notice Angela's grip loosen slightly as the steps continued, just that Peter started moving faster.
When he wobbled again and almost went off to the side in spite of Nathan's encouragement, Angela caught him quickly and righted him, then loosened her grip again when he kept walking.
Nathan let out the breath he'd been holding, and kept right on talking. "That's good, Peter, you're almost there." He motioned to him, arms outstretched now.
He did, however, catch it when Angela finally let go.
And Peter kept right on walking.
Not necessarily steady, but entirely confident, Peter picked up his pace. By the time he got to Nathan, he was practically running. Nathan laughed and caught him as he fell into his lap, hugging him. "Good job, Pete." He muttered, kissing the top of his head and holding him. Peter laughed and babbled out his triumph in a mix of random words he'd been picking up and babyspeak, hugging him right back.
Angela smiled to herself, and shook her head. She straightened up, glancing to the kitchen when she heard one of the staff call her name. "I should take care of that." She looked down at her sons, and arched an eyebrow at Nathan, smirking. "Do you think you can keep an eye on him?"
"I got it." Nathan looked up, nodding quickly. "We're gonna try to do some more walking." A boy on a mission now.
Angela nodded. "Keep me updated on how that goes." She glanced to the kitchen when her name was called again, and rolled her eyes. Duty called, no matter how much she might've wanted to stay and watch this. She started out of the room, leaning down to kiss Nathan's head as she passed. "I'm proud of you."
Nathan nodded to the praise, brightened some, but didn't seem as interested as he was in getting Peter to stand again. "Thanks, Ma."
She laughed under her breath, walking to the kitchen. Angela looked back over her shoulder before she went inside, and smiled faintly, watching Nathan coach Peter into walking again.
And then her name was called again. This time, it was Arthur. Distracted, but clearly irritated. She'd make sure he saw the progress when he was slightly more capable of paying attention.
Her smile faded some. Angela shook her head, and went on to find out what her husband wanted first. Duty called.
Nathan sighed when Peter flopped on his butt a good fifteen minutes later, but still smiled some when Peter smiled at him. "Okay, we'll take a break. You did good." He promised, taking his little brother's hands in his own.
Then he noticed Peter's attentions sliding off elsewhere. Nathan looked back over his shoulder, following where Peter's gaze had gone to where his toy laid on the floor. He looked back at Peter's obvious interest, no less abated since the first time he'd latched onto it, and sighed.
"Okay."
Nathan got up and walked over, snatching up the toy and walking back. He set it down in front of Peter. "You can have it. You deserve it." He watched Peter light up, and grinned slightly when Peter took it, waving the toy around. "We'll work on walking some more later."
Maybe when he didn't have to talk to people at the party anymore, they could find a space of their own. That way Peter wouldn't be alone in the playpen all night. They could figure out something to do, Nathan would see to it. It couldn't be that hard.
Maybe.
Muse: Nathan Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1,479