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23 December 2007 @ 12:55 am
Born for Adversity  
Title: Born for Adversity
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG for language
Pairings: Peter/Nathan, some implied Peter/Claire
Spoilers: Yes! For 2.11: Powerless
Summary: I want to laugh at the memory, but I find it's difficult to laugh over a hospital bed, or maybe because the bed holds my hero, my big brother and my rock.
AN: Unbeta'd. Also, this is my very first Heroes fic. I only started watching the series like last week. Please be gentle.

Born for Adversity

A brother is born for adversity. ~Proverbs 17:17

"It was that time on the Vineyard, you know. God, Nathan. I guess that was the first time you left me on my own, and even though it was only the beach house and I was, what, ten I think? You came back shit-faced." I want to laugh at the memory, but I find it's difficult to laugh over a hospital bed, or maybe because the bed holds my hero, my big brother and my rock. There can be no world if there is no Nathan. I'm sure of it.

I think for a moment of Caitlin. I cost her her brother. Saving her may yet cost me mine. The trade doesn't seem fair, but I guess to the person whose loved one dies, it never does.

I wish my blood... But what I do is in my head, learned, not in my blood or genes. I wonder if my blood would let Nathan absorb other powers, maybe mine? I'm terrified to try it. I'm terrified not to.

"I... I totally thought your were going to die, you know. I guess it's those after school specials. They teach you that a couple drinks leads to alcohol poisoning and stuff, and you were puking, sooo..." I grimace. "You probably don't even remember it." I knead the limp fingers of his hand in my own. "God, Nathan..." I don't want to cry. I'm in a public place and I've seen people die-- I'm a hospice nurse for Chrissake. Even as close as I was to Charles and Simone, it's not the same when it's your own family. I can't smother the tears or the childish gasps for air, so instead I drown them in Nathan's skin, pulling his wrist to my face to hide the sound. He smells so like himself, though, that I simply cry harder. I'm making such a fool out of myself, but I don't care. I don't care, I don't care!

They said the first twenty-four hours were the most critical. Maybe I've been healing myself too much and too easily, because I don't understand it. Didn't they remove the bullets? Didn't they stop the internal bleeding? He'd bled a lot after the shooting, but he hadn't bled to death. Nothing vital had been hit. Why did they need twenty-four hours!?

I drop his hand to stand and kick the plastic-and-metal chair I've been sitting in. I feel like a caged animal, but it's not the hospital room that has caged me-- it's my own fear. Someone said Mom is flying out, but I don't even want to see her. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she had something to do with this.

I kick the chair again, harder, and it flies into the wall, plastic shattering. I try to staunch the tears in my sleeve, but now my nose is running too.

I'm still remembering the Vineyard for some reason, the days out in the sun, the dunes and wildflowers. Nathan and his friends took me sailing. I'd got a sunburn on the first day out in the boat and every day after that Nathan made me use half a bottle of sunscreen. I remember complaining, explaining how "uncool" I looked with white-smeared shoulders and nose. "You'll look less cool with cancer, kid," Nathan prodded me in the shoulder. "God, you're worse than Mom," I'd whined. He'd laughed and answered, "Someone has to be."

And that was it. Dad was an amazing man, so full of heart and life. Until he killed himself, anyway. He wanted to do the best good he could in the world, and for that Nathan and I both looked up to him, but he rarely had much time for us. Mom... she had time to spend with us, but she wasn't gifted with too many motherly instincts. She'd never made me put on sunscreen in my life.

I find I'm standing in the room, watching the plain white tiles of the floor. I'm not crying anymore and I can't say why; I'm still feeling... lost. Hopeless. Scared. Scared and I need my big brother.

I remember that's what I told her that day, Claire. I'd looked for her, right after... While Nathan was in surgery. We're in Odessa. This is where she lives. Or it's supposed to be. She seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth, and it adds insult to injury. I thought maybe she would help me, not just save Nathan, but also... I don't know. I just need... I just need some reassurance. I'm feeling like my center of gravity has shifted and I can't find down.

Nathan said he would be nothing without me. He said that we only are who we are because we are living up to others' expectations. I know what he means. He wants to be someone I can look up to, he doesn't want to disappoint me.

But me? I guess I am who I am because it's who I am, you know? And still... Still I need him. I need to know there is someone I can trust in this fucked-up world. I guess that's another reason I was hoping to find Claire. She's someone I can trust.

I go to sit by Nathan again, suddenly feeling exhausted. But I can't. I've broken the chair. So I guess I'll stand.

I'm just going to stand here and try to decide whether I should take matters into my own hands... What if I make it worse somehow?

I'm just going to stand here and wait to understand what I should do. At times like this, I usually ask my big brother.
Current Location: St. Paul, MN
Current Mood: intimidatedintimidated
Current Music: QAF
Meli Parker: Milomeli_64 on December 23rd, 2007 07:52 am (UTC)
Great! :D
Bloody Jack Flint: Kouga and Ayamerhye on December 24th, 2007 04:32 am (UTC)
Thank you!
lulu_kitty: emo Peterlulu_kitty on December 24th, 2007 05:43 am (UTC)
I did a double take when I saw you posted a Heroes fic and then I was super excited!
It was lovely. I love Peter's view of their relationship.