Inseparable, 1/1
Title: Inseparable
Fandom: Heroes
Author: jedimastercait
Pairings: One-sided Peter/Nathan
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied slash, incest
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Heroes.
Summary: He should've seen Nathan's betrayal coming a mile away.
Author's Note: Takes place during the garage scene in 1x23.
There's nothing you can do to stop it, Peter. They'll all die.
"Claire was right."
Peter's own, small voice echoed endlessly across the empty garage.
Claire was right. She'd been right all along.
This young girl, who had only recently walked into their lives, who hadn't grown up with him, who hadn't learned his every sound and expression and their corresponding emotions...this girl, who didn't even know his middle name or what he liked to eat or who he liked to listen to, knew his own brother better than he did. She alone had seen through the white lies and half-truths, the charismatic smiles and political hand-waving, to his very core, and had glimpsed his true intentions.
Because Peter had been blinded through years of hero-worshipping his older brother. Because their parents had built Nathan up on a marble pedestal, praising every word and action as they subtly prepared him for a life of politics, and there he had stayed in foolish, little Peter's eyes, a god to a little boy who wanted nothing more than to be just like him.
And Nathan had never discouraged Peter's constant stream of affection. He had never refused a hug or a kiss or a bedtime story, nor an animated regaling the day's events. No comment of Peter's had ever been too insignificant for Nathan's ears, and there had always been enough room under the sheets when thunder and lightning and the boogeyman struck and the youngest Petrelli had been too proud to crawl into his parents' bed.
A life of such actions had led him to believe that Nathan cared deeply for him, though his words may not have always spoken it. They were connected, Peter had believed. Bonded. Inseparable.
Their mother had been right.
Nathan had never loved Peter as much as his overactive imagination had perceived. He'd be a toy; a walking, talking, ego-boosting puppet, sent to lavish him with compliments and adoration while he focused himself fully on his career, on his own success. Peter's ideals on life and the world were interesting, nay cute, to the man who could not fathom putting anyone else's life before his own.
"Do you know how many people that is?"
"Point zero seven percent..."
A percentage. That's how his brother had written off the deaths of seven million people. As if those seven million lives didn't matter; as if they didn't have families and jobs and homes, as if they had no souls, and were therefore expendable. Seven million people he was willing to sacrifice, all for the sake of an office and a title.
But Peter wouldn't, couldn't let that happen. He'd find a way to stop the bomb. And if Nathan had a problem with that, he could go fuck himself.
For Peter Petrelli had saved the cheerleader...
And now he'd save the world.
Fandom: Heroes
Author: jedimastercait
Pairings: One-sided Peter/Nathan
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied slash, incest
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Heroes.
Summary: He should've seen Nathan's betrayal coming a mile away.
Author's Note: Takes place during the garage scene in 1x23.
There's nothing you can do to stop it, Peter. They'll all die.
"Claire was right."
Peter's own, small voice echoed endlessly across the empty garage.
Claire was right. She'd been right all along.
This young girl, who had only recently walked into their lives, who hadn't grown up with him, who hadn't learned his every sound and expression and their corresponding emotions...this girl, who didn't even know his middle name or what he liked to eat or who he liked to listen to, knew his own brother better than he did. She alone had seen through the white lies and half-truths, the charismatic smiles and political hand-waving, to his very core, and had glimpsed his true intentions.
Because Peter had been blinded through years of hero-worshipping his older brother. Because their parents had built Nathan up on a marble pedestal, praising every word and action as they subtly prepared him for a life of politics, and there he had stayed in foolish, little Peter's eyes, a god to a little boy who wanted nothing more than to be just like him.
And Nathan had never discouraged Peter's constant stream of affection. He had never refused a hug or a kiss or a bedtime story, nor an animated regaling the day's events. No comment of Peter's had ever been too insignificant for Nathan's ears, and there had always been enough room under the sheets when thunder and lightning and the boogeyman struck and the youngest Petrelli had been too proud to crawl into his parents' bed.
A life of such actions had led him to believe that Nathan cared deeply for him, though his words may not have always spoken it. They were connected, Peter had believed. Bonded. Inseparable.
Their mother had been right.
Nathan had never loved Peter as much as his overactive imagination had perceived. He'd be a toy; a walking, talking, ego-boosting puppet, sent to lavish him with compliments and adoration while he focused himself fully on his career, on his own success. Peter's ideals on life and the world were interesting, nay cute, to the man who could not fathom putting anyone else's life before his own.
"Do you know how many people that is?"
"Point zero seven percent..."
A percentage. That's how his brother had written off the deaths of seven million people. As if those seven million lives didn't matter; as if they didn't have families and jobs and homes, as if they had no souls, and were therefore expendable. Seven million people he was willing to sacrifice, all for the sake of an office and a title.
But Peter wouldn't, couldn't let that happen. He'd find a way to stop the bomb. And if Nathan had a problem with that, he could go fuck himself.
For Peter Petrelli had saved the cheerleader...
And now he'd save the world.