Nothing New
Title: Nothing New
Characters: Nathan and Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG-13 (One swear word and a few adult concepts mentioned in dialogue)
Setting: Pre-season. Peter's about nineteen here, in pre-law, so Nathan's thirty-one.
Summary: Written for heroes_contest drabble challange #36 "New." A snippet of a scene - a day in a Petrelli's life.
Beta by game_byrd
“…and then the cops showed up!”
Nathan rolled his eyes and didn’t respond to yet another of Peter’s collection of party stories. They usually ended badly and Nathan was the one to clean them up, keep them out of the press and otherwise off Dad’s desk.
“Hmm,” he mindlessly grumbled a response, not listening as he foraged around in his office for the guest list Patty, his secretary, had left for him to confirm. It was around here somewhere.
“You can at least act like you care,” Peter was onto him, not that he’d been trying hard.
“I could but I’m not getting calls from the PD or the DA so I don’t. Your personal life is yours to screw up, Pete. Your professional career is of interest.”
Peter heaved a sigh and Nathan heard the sound of furniture as it accepted a body but didn’t look to check. “Feet off the leather. What are you, twelve?” He snipped. The guest list wasn’t in his drawer. Where the hell was it? Nathan frowned.
“Did you take notes from Dad? You sound just like him,” Peter quipped, though he obeyed, if the sounds were any indication.
To avoid the inevitable, well-worn argument (he could recite it by heart and so could Peter), he changed the subject, mostly to make Peter happy. Ish. “How are things with Carrie?”
“Carol!”
“Carol,” he amended blandly, turning around, arms folded, legs crossed against his mahogany desk. He waited for the deluge of woe. No sooner did Peter fuck the girl than she left him. He didn’t want to know how quickly the men left, because those, too, were a blade between their father’s ribs. Peter was addicted to trouble just as Nathan was addicted to order and power. Neither could get enough.
“She’s…She said- We broke up.”
“Did you try sweet talking her? I told you. It works, you know it does.”
“I am looking for a real relationship, Nathan, not a quick screw or an affair,” Peter retorted hotly, voice rising, practically spitting the last word.
“You really have to stop reading the Times, Pete,” Nathan snorted. No, the elder Petrelli son had never made the news, but reading it sure gave Peter ideas. Even if they were true. Peter never spoke up, Heidi was ignorant, Nathan was content in his unhappiness. Nathan would never tell him as much.
Dryly, he commented as needed, “That’s great. Good for you,” at which Peter glared.
“It’s a process, Nathan. It takes time. I don’t want to end up like-“
“Me?”
Peter went quiet. Nathan hummed and went back around to double check the drawer. The younger interjected as a cover, “Dad still have you on the Jackson case?”
“Yeah.”
“Any progress?”
“Nah. Rescheduled out two months.” The few things Peter should be reading about in the newspaper. Good grief. Ego properly stroked, he tried again to inquire on whatever it was that Peter considered so important - personal life.
“How’re your grades?”
“Terrible.”
“Nothing new there.”