Brother's Keeper

Chapter 11

As the days passed and Angela had departed to return home, Nathan remained behind and stayed true to his word. As soon as Peter was past intensive care and could be moved to a regular surgical ward, all of Nathan’s waking hours were spent dutifully at Peter’s bedside, and sometimes he even slept there, his head resting on the edge of the bed and one hand stubbornly closed around Peter’s own. Sometimes for hours on end, he would simply gaze at the young motionless face, his hope growing whenever he saw even the slightest movement.

During the surgery to fix Peter’s prolapse, Nathan was not permitted to enter the OR. Understanding, he remained outside in the waiting room, but even then he sat boiling in his own anxieties, waiting for some sort of news from a medical practitioner.

A mug of bitter, black coffee, lukewarm by now, stood on the table next to his chair. Nathan’s back hurt from sitting in one position for over two hours straight, and he stretched to alleviate the discomfort, hearing a popping noise from his spine.

Two hours. That was what Doctor Nelson, the head of the surgical team had told him the operation was going to last. Two hours and fifteen minutes had passed by now, and still no one had come out to tell him whether or not Peter was alright.

Nathan considered charging into his brother’s operating room to ask what the hell was going on, despite knowing that only people in sterile scrubs and hair nets were allowed in there. Maybe he had made a mistake when approving the surgeons to perform abdominal surgery on Peter. Peritoneal surgery would have been a safer option, although the risk of future prolapses was bigger. If only Peter were awake to choose for himself…

Just when he thought to chase someone down and ask about the surgery, Doctor Nelson himself came through the door in front of him. Nathan stood up and the look in his eyes needed no explanation or spoken question.

“He’s doing well. The operation went well.”

“Thank God…” Nathan sat back on his chair, sighing in relief, but seconds later he was standing back up. “When can I see him?”

“As soon as the anesthesia has worn off and he can be moved back to his room, so about four to five hours. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to the hotel and get some sleep?”

Nathan shook his head. “I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“He won’t be awake in four hours. Get some rest or else you won’t manage to be awake when he comes around.”

“Can’t I see him now? Just for a few minutes…?” Nathan pleaded, but the surgeon’s decision was unrelenting.

“There are no visitors allowed at PACU,” Nelson replied, still friendly but at the same time resolute. “I assure you, though, the nurses there are taking very good care of him. If anything should happen, which I doubt, we will contact you immediately.”

“Alright… thanks…” the lawyer muttered, supposing that he should be grateful to the physician for doing a good job with Peter. “I guess I’ll wait then.”

“If I may suggest this, Mr. Petrelli…” Nelson began. “I’d really take a shower if I were you. No offense intended.”

Nathan looked down at himself and realized his shirt was wet both under his arms and in his back. It suddenly occurred to him how awful he no doubt smelled. A shower was indeed in order.

“None taken, doctor. I’ll go take one right away…” he sighed, embarrassed.

On his way back to his patient hotel room, Nathan began to feel oddly nervous. The reason for it was that Peter would be awake for the first time in almost a week, and Nathan awaited the moment with both anticipation and dread.

*

One shower and a very short nap later, Nathan was back in his brother’s room, anxiously waiting for Peter to be brought back in from the post anesthesia care unit. Though he could barely sleep during his nap, he had been awake for most of the week that the boy was unconscious, and the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll on him. Struggling to stay focused, he decided that getting some coffee was the best and quickest solution.

Trudging down the hallway and resembling a patient himself, he searched for a cup of the horrible black stuff in order to keep vigil.

*

Peter hardly knew where, who or even what he was as he awoke. All he was aware of was that his body barely felt solid and his vision did not obey him when he tried to open his eyes. The connection between his brain and the rest of him felt completely severed, but within a few seconds, he began to gain back what energy he had left within. He was waking up and must have been unconscious for a long time. For a split second he wondered if he had died.

What had happened to him? Where the hell was he?

It took an enormous strain on his part to even open his eyes, and once he managed, all he could see where white blurs. Hazy memories of pain, fear, and horrific abuse began to surface in his mind, and every muscle in Peter’s supine body went taut. A scream was locked in his throat but unable to get out. There was a word – a name – on his lips, which moved even though no sounds came out.

//Nathan//

Where was his brother? Where was everybody? Was he still a captive of the murderous family, or was he indeed dead and stuck in some kind of limbo or purgatory, waiting to either go to heaven or hell?

Suddenly a formless shape entered his blurred range of vision, and a hand touched his shoulder. The shape spoke, but Peter could not make out any words. Finally the scream that had been locked in his throat broke free, and the world dissolved before his eyes.

*


Shuffling back down the hall, coffee in hand, Nathan slowly sipped from it, although the taste was terrible and the drink was far too hot on his tongue. At least he would be able to manage another sit-down for the hellish wait for his brother to finally wake up. Taking another sip, he tried to remember in his groggy state where the hell Peter’s room was.


The lawyer was too tired to be startled when a nurse rushed past him. He wondered what the hell her hurry was, but as he walked onward and saw another nurse run along, he began to hear screaming. One of the patients must have been having some sort of breakdown, the man considered. Hell, in this place…

But in a split second of listening to the horrible tormented cry, Nathan began to recognize the voice, and with a cold feeling in his stomach, he knew what had happened.

Peter was awake.

Nathan dropped the plastic coffee cup and it hit the ground, sending black fluid throughout the carpet, but he did not care. All his energy and thoughts were trained on that terrible scream.

*

“Nathan! I want Nathaaaannn…!” Peter wailed, struggling weakly against the hands holding him down. He felt oddly numb below the waist, but something hot, wet and slippery was trickling down his side, and he certainly could feel that.

“Calm down, boy!” a stern female voice, disembodied to Peter, shouted in his ear. “You’ll tear your stitches out!”

“Naathaaaan! Help meeee!”

The white, formless shape leaned over him repeatedly told him to calm down, but Peter was not calmed by the words or by being forcibly held down. Sobbing and crying, he eventually ceased struggling, but he did not – could not – stop calling out for his brother. With no idea where he was or what was going on, Nathan was his only anchor in an otherwise chaotic environment.

“If you keep this up, we will be forced to sedate you,” the woman hovering above him said, but the threat was not enough to silence Peter’s desperate cries.

*

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t be in here.” A young nurse immediately blocked Nathan’s way when he opened the door to the PACU where Peter’s screams were reverberating between the walls.

God, his brother sounded like he was being raped again.

“That’s my brother! I have to go to him! Get out of my way!”

Normally Nathan would have taken a more polite attitude, especially with a female as young and pretty as this one, but right now he only saw her as an obstacle preventing him from getting to Peter. Though the nurse pursued him, he ignored her protests and slammed the door open, following the cries as though he were a hunter on the trail of prey.

“Peter?!” he called out and all that he received were the same screams of his name. Stubbornly continuing onward, he was at the door between himself and his brother just when he heard another nurse.

“Keep him still so I can sedate him.”

“Wait!” Nathan shouted as he ran into the room. He did not pause at the sight of Peter struggling between a nurse and an orderly, with blood staining his hospital gown. Immediately he rushed over to his little brother, who was flexing his fingers and grabbing at the air, desperate to close the distance between the two brothers.

The orderly attempting to hold Peter down moved aside with some uncertainty as he allowed Nathan to climb onto the hospital bed. The nurse, still brandishing a syringe, stepped back as the second nurse entered. All were silent except for Peter, who still wailed out, clinging onto his older brother so hard that it was painful. Nathan could hardly care.

“Nathannn…” Peter sobbed.

“I’m here, kiddo,” Nathan replied, arms wrapped around the tiny frame. “It’s alright now. We’re safe. Didn’t I tell you we’d be okay?”

“Nathan… Nathan…” Peter kept chanting his older brother’s name and clinging spasmodically to him for another few minutes until he finally relaxed against Nathan’s chest, still weeping silently.

Nathan’s feelings swung between relief at having Peter in his arms again and shock at how tiny his brother felt. Peter must have lost a substantial amount of weight from his already small frame. Nathan could practically feel the kid’s bones through his hospital gown.

“It’s alright, baby…” he murmured against his little brother’s sweaty, tangled locks of hair. “I’m here. I’m right here, and you don’t have to be afraid anymore. Peter… Peter, sweetheart, do you know where you are?”

The faintest of headshakes from his brother confirmed Nathan’s suspicions.

“You’re at a hospital, buddy. You’ve been asleep for a long time, and I know how frightened and disoriented you must feel. But I’m here now, and I’m not letting you go. Do you believe me, Petey?”

This time he received a nod, and Peter’s small fingers once again burrowed deeper into his chest. His brother was not willing to let go, either.

“Sir, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave…-” The nurse who had tried to stop Nathan from reaching his brother finally spoke and took a step toward them, but the lawyer’s reaction kept her from trying further.

“Give us some space!” Nathan snapped immediately. “Can’t you see how scared he is?!”
In response, Peter hid his still bruised but healing face in his brother’s shirt front.

“Oh, look who’s back,” a tired yet unsurprised voice observed. Doctor Ryder strolled into the room, Nelson close behind and looking faintly displeased.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan automatically muttered, “but he’s scared and he was screaming for me.”

“So we heard,” Nelson responded.

“I think everyone heard it,” Ryder pointed out. He glanced at the two nurses and the orderly. “Let’s allow them some time alone for a moment, but don’t wander too far.”

Once the three staff members were gone, Ryder stepped closer. “Peter, I’m Doctor Ryder, and this is Doctor Nelson.”

Peter wanted no part of the introduction and he obeyed his instinct to tense up in his brother’s arms, whimpering.

“Shh…” Nathan cooed softly in the boy’s ear. “They fixed you up once we got to the hospital.”

“I still feel bad…” a small voice mumbled. “My stomach feels weird.”

Nathan looked imploringly at the doctors. “He’s bleeding.”

When he gestured a need for a closer look, Nelson was rebuked by the younger man, but when his big brother cajoled him, Peter turned toward his audience, revealing the red stain on his gown.

Lifting the cloth, the surgeon hummed in deep thought. “Looks like he’s broken a stitch.”

Peter turned his face away from the safety of Nathan’s chest just enough to see the older man.

“I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” the surgeon replied as he gently prodded the surgical wound with gloved fingertips.

The area was still numb, and Peter could not feel the touch, but he did not like the contact and responded by hiding his face against Nathan’s chest.

“Do you have to re-stitch it?” Nathan asked worriedly. He feared such an experience right now might give Peter another trauma.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll just change the bandages and clean the wound for now,” Nelson replied and then gave the distressed young man a warm smile. “Perhaps we should get Peter a clean gown, too, hmmm?”

“When can we move back up to the surgical ward?” Nathan asked, figuring that the technical equipment and close proximity to other patients only made Peter more frightened.

“Once we get him freshened up, I should think…?” the doctor asked in half a question, turning to regard Ryder.

“He should do fine, away from this creepy room, huh, Peter?”

“Your room is nice,” Nathan offered, hoping his brother would at least consider his words, if not that of a stranger. “The sun comes in better in that window, and there’s a TV.”

“Will you still be here?” the young man asked.

“Of course,” Nathan brushed his fingers against oily locks of hair. “I’ve been here every day, making sure you’re always alright. You wanna go see your room?”

The grip against Nathan’s chest tightened, but only for a second. “Okay.”

When the doctors had left, one of the two nurses returned; a curly haired woman in her thirties. She began to remove the boy’s blood-stained hospital gown, but Peter shied away, and the look in his eyes made Nathan believe that certain memories were resurfacing at the thought of being undressed.

“I’m sorry, but your gown’s a mess and you need a new one,” the woman said matter-of-factly.

“Can’t Nathan do it?”

Nathan was just about to open his mouth and say that he would gladly help Peter change gowns when the nurse decided that her patience was wearing thin.

“Don’t be such a goddamned kid about it!” she snapped at the frightened and trembling young man she was supposed to assist.

Peter objected with a squeal when she grabbed the hem of his blood-stained hospital gown and roughly jerked it over his head. The analgesic used to numb the area around his surgical wound was beginning to wear off, and Peter felt a clear stab of pain in his lower abdomen. He wore nothing underneath the gown except for the bandage over his wound, and that did not make him feel any less exposed in his nakedness. To cope with the uncomfortable feeling, he reached out for his brother.

Nathan suddenly experienced the memory of his brother at 15 months, being burped too harshly by a babysitter and thus becoming frightened and wailing loudly enough to wake the dead. He had reached out with pudgy hands for the older boy then.

Another lucid moment the lawyer could remember was when Peter was five and trick-or-treating with him. The image of his baby brother dressed as a medieval knight was clear as day, and he had been so happy up until the point that a neighbor jokingly jumped out from a front door dressed a vampire. The little boy was so terrified that he ran crying to Nathan’s welcoming arms for protection from the apologetic monster.

Now the monsters were as real as ever, and Peter was still too affected by memories from days ago to realize he was in a place where people were only trying to help.

“Peter!” Nathan called to him, careful not to be in the way of the rude nurse. “Peter, listen to me, buddy. You’re okay. Can you be a big man for me? You’re okay, she’s just changing your clothes. No one’s gonna hurt you, just look at me and listen. You’ll be okay.”

Peter was crying again, his large eyes overflowing with tears. Nathan felt a sudden and explosive bout of hatred toward the woman responsible for this. She was supposed to be a professional and she most certainly should know better than acting the way she had with a patient, especially one as vulnerable as Peter.

“Don’t they teach tact at nursing school anymore?” Nathan asked dryly as the curly-haired woman returned with a clean set of clothing for Peter.

“If I wanted to work with difficult patients, I would have chosen the children’s ward,” the nurse – wearing a name tag that said Arlene – snipped back. “If you think you’re so much better at my job than I, why don’t you dress your brother instead?”

She unceremoniously dumped the clothing on the bed beside Peter and left without another word.

“I’ll be glad to…” Nathan muttered, relieved to see the nurse disappear behind the curtains separating them from other patients.

Peter’s flow of tears had stopped, but he still looked very sad and miserable, now also trembling from the cold. “I’m sorry I made her angry…” he whispered.

“She was being a bitch,” Nathan replied. “That wasn’t your fault whatsoever.”

“But I…”

“You’ve had a hell of a time lately. You’re traumatized and afraid, and you also just woke up from a very long sleep.”

Peter remained silent as his older brother gently pulled the new gown over, easing skinny arms into the wide sleeves.

“There we go,” Nathan said with a smile. “Good as new.”

“Nathan?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“How long was I out?”

The older man’s smile faded, though he tried to keep a comforting and positive expression.
“Well, it’s been quite a while. A little over a week now sounds right.”

Peter’s large eyes regarded him with the vulnerability of a small child. “How much of that was before the hospital?”

“Only a few hours. Two people in a van found us and called for help. Peter…” Nathan was hesitant to ask, but he could not help himself. “How much do you remember before you were unconscious?”

Avoiding his brother’s gaze, Peter bit his lip and his eyes welled up instantly, tears spilling over.

“Oh God, baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry…” Nathan felt utterly helpless when Peter broke into sobs yet again and sought the comfort of his older brother. The lawyer’s right shoulder was quickly soaked through with tears as he rocked Peter, trying to still the sobs wracking the boy’s slender body.

“I… I…” Peter gasped in attempts to speak, but every try to form words failed miserably.

“You don’t have to tell me, sweetie,” Nathan gently consoled, loathing himself for causing this reaction in his brother. They were doing so well…

“N-Nathan… they… they…”

“I know, buddy, I know. I was there too. Just don’t think about it, okay? It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“I… I w-waaa…” Swallowing, the boy made another attempt at speaking. “I w-wanna go h-ho…me…”

“I know you do, sweetie. I want to go home too. But I’m afraid we can’t do that just yet. You have to heal up first.”

“N-Nathan…? Where are m-mom and dad…?

The thought of their parents gave Nathan mixed feelings. The gratitude he felt for their mother was immense, but when he thought of what he had learned about his father in a matter of minutes, he feared giving an answer.

“They came the minute someone called,” he finally said. “Mom was so upset, you wouldn’t believe it. She even stayed behind for a few days to make sure that we would be alright during the time we stay here.”

“… They’re not here anymore?”

“There was all the business stuff that dad has to deal with all the time, you know…” Nathan could only hope his lie did not sound too obvious and that Peter would not notice.

“But Mama was here and she made sure we’ve got our clothes and even your favorite tennis shoes. And she made sure we had everything before she had to take off again.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” Peter question could have carried much more misery, but his voice still told Nathan that he was desperately homesick.

“I don’t know, Pete,” Nathan replied truthfully. “That’ll be up to the doctors.”


Peter gripped his brother’s arm. “I’m scared, Nathan…” he whispered.

“You don’t have to be. I’ll be here to protect you. At all times.”

“But… what if the bad people catch me again…?" Peter’s voice held such fear and dread that it was impossible not to know whom he was referring to.

Nathan wasn’t sure if the news of their abductors’ deaths would give Peter any satisfaction. Gentle soul that his brother was, he had never enjoyed destroying anything living. In fact, unlike most other boys that age, he had even tried to avoid stepping on bugs and small critters since kindergarten.

“They can’t hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” Nathan said softly. “They’re dead.”

Peter’s red-rimmed, swollen eyes widened further. “Dead…?”

“Yes. They can’t hurt you or anyone else now.”

“How?”

Nathan was tentative, but he figured he should tell him the truth, because there was no other way around it.

“They were going to kill me, and I knew if that happened, I couldn’t protect you. So I fought back.”

Nathan felt as though he were reliving a night years ago when Peter needed bedtime stories. Hell, they were practically doing the same thing during the camping trip, alone in the dark of a tent that was now scavenged in a house full of dead people.

“All of them…?” Peter asked.

“Each and every one that hurt us. They’re never going to hurt us again. And the police are checking the place out to make sure anyone else who could have been involved is taken care of.”

“The police?” Peter’s hands gripped tightly, though his grasp was still weak; something which left Nathan unsettled. “What if they arrest you? What if they… they’ll say we caused it… other people saw us… at the bar! They’ll say we’re to blame.”

“No, no, sweetie…” Nathan interrupted the rambling, worried his brother’s anxiety might overwhelm him. He gingerly placed a hand over a jaw still swollen and discolored with bruises.

“I talked with the police. They won’t blame us and they won’t arrest us. They could tell those bastards have been doing this for years. We’re not in trouble.”

“…you promise?”

“You have my word,” Nathan said solemnly. “I’ve already spoken with the police. All they wanted was a statement. I’m not suspected of any crime.”

Peter wanted to ask how Nathan had killed the bad men, but at the same time he was afraid to. He could not imagine his brother as a killer, even if it happened in self-defense. Grisly images of bleeding and dismembered bodies – just figments of his imagination but frightening nonetheless – flashed through his mind, and he had to shut his eyes and shake his head to get rid of them.

Instantly Nathan’s large hands were cupping his face, and his brother’s concerned voice asked what was wrong.

“I don’t feel very good…” Peter murmured, and he actually felt dizzy.

Slowly and gently Nathan lowered him back onto the bed and made sure there were enough pillows stacked behind his back.

“Peter… do you need to rest?”

“My tummy hurts…”

Nathan immediately felt his heart race at the thought of anything wrong with his brother. The pain could have come from the sutures on the younger man’s belly, but he did not want to assume this could be the only reason.

“Where, sweetheart?”

“Here…” Peter’s hand landed on the stitching as he turned on his side and curled into a fetal ball. “It really hurts,” he added, his voice carrying a whimper.

“Hold on, I’ll get the doctor,” Nathan said as he moved to stand, but a hand grabbed at his wrist.

“Please don’t go away,” his brother pleaded. “What if you don’t come back?”

“Of course I’ll come back, buddy!” Nathan replied softly as he sat back down and stroked Peter’s dark hair. “I’m not going to leave you alone, but I have to step out for a minute to get the doctor.”

“But…” Peter bit his lip again, perhaps this time in agony. “Oh god, it hurts so much…”

Glancing at a button attached to Peter’s bed, Nathan noticed the words underneath it.

PUSH FOR EMERGENCY

He anxiously jabbed at it with his thumb, but a minute passed, and no one came. Peter was crying from the pain by now, and Nathan was agitated enough to want to tear down the hospital. He pressed the button again, holding it in this time, and hoped whoever out there would realize the seriousness of their need for help.

Nelson had quite recently cleaned the wound and changed the bandages, and apart from some bleeding caused by the torn stitch, there had been nothing wrong with it. The idea of his brother possibly having internal bleedings made Nathan ready to dash into the hallway and grab the first white-clad person passing by. Pressing the button again, he decided that unless someone showed up within a minute, he would do exactly that.

Just as the older Petrelli was rising from his seat next to Peter’s bed, his fingers still entwined with Peter’s, a nurse showed up in the doorway, asking which patient in the room had pressed the alarm button.

“Where the hell have you been?” Nathan shouted at her. “My brother’s hurting to the point of cold sweat, and we’re been waiting for someone to come for over five minutes!”

The nurse, a sturdy-looking woman in her fifties, did not seem to take offense at the accusation of being too slow. She approached Peter and quickly checked his pulse with experienced hands.

“Alright, dear, where are you hurting?” she asked the quivering little creature in the bed.

“Here…” Peter whimpered, and he raised his palm to show the area which had been sewn together.

Looking it over, she addressed the boy again as though he were no older than five. “Do you know who your doctor is?”

“It’s Doctor Ryder,” Nathan answered for his brother. “Where is he? He was supposed to stay in the area just in case!”

“In that case, he should be back soon,” the nurse responded. “He’s very reliable.”

“He’d better be,” the man muttered impatiently.

“What seems to be the problem?” a voice asked as if on cue. Ryder strolled in, instinctively putting on a pair of gloves.

“Where have you been?!” Nathan demanded, standing up and letting go of his brother, who moaned in response to the separation. “He’s in pain and he’s only getting worse!”

“Well then, considering how long he’s been out of surgery, it would mean the analgesic’s wearing off,” Ryder replied, unfazed by the outburst. He then turned to Peter, who would not show his face.

“Peter, we’re going to give you some morphine because the drugs from your surgery are wearing off. The pain will go away if we give you that, alright?”

Peter’s hand grabbed at the air, and Nathan realized the outstretched fingers were for him, so he took the hand in his own.

Ryder ordered the nurse to bring a shot of morphine to be administered subcutaneously, and she trudged off in no hurry despite there being a patient in dire need of the drug to relieve his pain. Nathan felt like snapping at her disappearing back to hurry the hell up, but he did not want to make a scene in front of Ryder and the three other patients in the room.

Peter’s whimpering had not stopped by the time the nurse returned with the injection syringe, and not even Nathan’s presence could soothe him now. The woman stepped forth and tried to uncurl Peter from the fetal ball he was currently in, and Peter objected by flexing his muscles and tightening his already spasmodic grip on Nathan’s hand.

Ryder pinched the skin under Peter’s navel – only a couple of inches from the surgical wound – and finally deemed the layer of fat to be insufficient for a subcutaneous injection.

“We’ll have to give this one in his bottom,” the doctor said.

“Why’s that?” Nathan inquired.

“There needs to be a certain layer of fat where the injection can be given, and he’s gotten so skinny that his belly won’t do,” Ryder said professionally as he gently nudged at Peter’s hip. “Come on, big guy. We’re going to have to stick the morphine somewhere.”

Peter did not seem to notice or hear any of the words spoken to him and only visibly reacted when his hospital gown was lifted.

“What are you doing?” he asked apprehensively, edging away from the doctor’s motions.

“They have to inject the morphine through your rump,” Nathan informed him. “You want the pain to go away, right?”

“Yeah, but…” Peter, looked around in time to see the syringe being prepared, and he felt the doctor disinfect the right cheek of his backside with a cotton swab.

“N-nnno!” he cried out, squirming, but the nurse began to restrain him, and he squealed in her hold. “No! NO!”

“It’s alright, Peter,” Nathan said, and he eased himself onto the bed and put his arms around his brother’s wriggling form, allowing part of his weight to keep the younger man still while embracing him in an attempt to calm him. “It’s okay, it’ll be over soon.”

With both the nurse and his brother holding him in place, Peter gave a mixture of a sob and scream as Ryder tried to inject the morphine as quickly as possible.

“I know, I know, buddy,” Nathan said as though comforting a small frightened animal. “It’s all over. You’re okay, you’re okay…”

Peter sobbed for long even after the doctor and the nurse had left. The memories of being forcibly held down and unwanted attention being paid to his nether regions had surfaced during the treatment and would not give him peace. Being in Nathan’s arms had prevented a hysterical breakdown, but even his big brother could not chase away these demons.

Their hands remained locked even when two orderlies came to transfer Peter – bed and all – to his room in the surgical ward. Nathan feared that his brother would panic if he lost sight of him at this point.

*

At nine PM a nurse entered the room and announced that it was bedtime for Peter. Nathan had even gone as far as removing his shoes and crawling into bed with his baby brother. Peter lay pressed to his side, head resting on the older man’s chest.

“Can Nathan stay here?” he asked in a small voice. “I want my brother to stay.”

The nurse looked hesitant. “Well, normally the procedures…”

“Please,” the lawyer said. “I don’t want him to be alone during his first night of being conscious. I can sleep in the chair if need be.”

“I’ll talk with my superiors,” the nurse finally said. “If they think it’s alright, we’ll have a bunk brought in for you.”

“Thank you,” Nathan replied earnestly, and he watched as the nurse left the room. His eyes remained on the door, even though he knew no one would be back for a good while. Peter snuggled closer than what his brother thought humanly possible into the warm and solid chest.

Ryder was a good man to the two brothers, because minutes later, the nurse returned with word of approval from him to have a bed moved into the room. In what seemed like no time at all, Nathan was sitting at the edge of the new bunk, placed parallel to Peter’s, and he grinned as he tested the spring of the mattress, lousy as it was.

“Isn’t this great, buddy?” he said, optimism clear in his voice. “It’s like sharing a bedroom… even though we never did that.”

Peter did not speak. His eyes looked beyond his brother, at something invisible. Memories, most likely. Nathan’s grin faded and he slid off of his bed to walk the short distance over to his little brother.

“Hey. You alright?”

“I don’t think I can go to sleep. I don’t like it here.”

“Me neither. But I’ll stay here with you, so it won’t be so bad.”

When they moved the beds closer to one another and said their goodnights, the two brothers tried to go to sleep.

Sleep overcame Nathan rather quickly despite the circumstances and the lumpy mattress, but Peter could simply not get any rest. He had received another dosage of morphine for the night – in tablet form this time – and despite a numb kind of ache in his lower abdomen, it was not the pain that kept him awake.

The room was dark except for the light coming in through the window, and Peter could see the shape of his brother, resting so quietly only two feet away. Peter reached out his hand, but the distance was still too great, and stretching out caused a stir of pain in his entire body.

“Nathan…”

No response.

Peter tried again. “Nathan…!”

This time his brother reacted with a grunt and rolled over onto his back, but he did not awaken. Peter regarded the distance between them and slowly eased himself into a sitting position, swinging his bare feet over the edge. The nurses had wanted to keep the handle bars up on both sides, but Nathan had managed to talk them out of it. Peter was grateful for that now, as he doubted he had been able to climb over them in his current condition.

The floor was no doubt cold. Everything here looked cold, even the sheets and blankets. Peter did not care about the floors though. As he tested the flexibility of his middle, he felt another dull ache radiate from his stomach. He glanced up again at Nathan’s sleeping form.

The same image projected in his mind, though Nathan was younger in this memory. Years ago, Peter had heard an owl outside his window, and – too young to know what had made the noise – made a frightening journey to his brother’s room, though the dark was terrifying and urged him to stay in his bed.

Peter sat staring at Nathan two feet away, and though the darkness of the unfamiliar place left him unable to sleep, the ache in his body left him unable to move. What if he broke more stitches in an attempt to get off of the bed? A brief image of his intestines falling out made his heart pound.

“Nathan!” he loudly whispered.

This time, Nathan woke up and instantly asked, “What’s wrong?”

The sight of his brother sitting up in bed caused instant alarm in the lawyer. He crossed the distance to Peter’s bed in just half a second and immediately two meager arms wrapped around his middle.

“Hey, little buddy,” Nathan murmured, hands in Peter’s hair. “What’s the matter? Have a scary dream?”

A headshake from Peter was the only reply he received, but Peter’s arms did not release their hold. “I’m scared…” the boy finally admitted, face still pressed against his big brother’s stomach.

“Uh huh…?”

“C-can you… sleep here with me?”

“Petey…” Nathan said gravely, “I don’t think the hospital staff would like that.”

“Why not?” the younger Petrelli implored.

Nathan had no good answer to this question, although he clearly remembered seeing a frown on the nurse’s face when she discovered Nathan had crawled in with his brother.

“Because you’re a patient here and I’m not,” he finally said.


Disappointment practically radiated from Peter, and the boy refused to let go even though Nathan gently tried to pry his arms loose.

“But you know what? We can move my bed even closer so that you can reach out to me whenever you want. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

No answer at first.

“Okay?” Nathan offered.

“Okay.”

As quietly as he could, Nathan pushed his bed until the mattresses touched. He thought he heard the faint tap of metal bars against one another. If Peter rolled over towards him in sleep, he would not risk falling between the frames of the two beds. Lying back down, he pulled the covers over his little brother, tucking him in.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Peter answered, dropping his head against a large, soft pillow. Though still awake, the exhaustion in the boy’s eyes was painfully evident. Smiling tenderly, Nathan stroked his little brother’s cheek with his fingertips until Peter’s eyes closed and his tense body went soft and lax under the sheets.

Minutes later, Nathan had fallen asleep as well. However, following an hour of peace, Peter opened his eyes to the darkness. He shivered, though the covers were much warmer than they looked, and peered at the figure lying motionless next to him. With a caution that would make the most talented burglar envious, he crawled slowly towards the body until he was right up against him.

An arm wrapped around Peter almost on instinct, and the young man relaxed into the embrace, wondering if Nathan was awake or asleep. Soon they were breathing in rhythm with each other, and sleep claimed Peter once more despite the unknown environment and the thick, suffocating darkness so unlike everything he was used to.


TBC...