Brother's Keeper

Chapter 14

The first day of the following week was probably the happiest day in Peter's life - or at least his life following the kidnapping and his stay at the hospital.

Six weeks. Six whole weeks of sleeping in a hospital bed, eating hospital food, and not being able to see his parents. Now was the end of it, though. Ryder had gone over Peter's test results and compared them with his current weight and finally given the young man permission to leave the hospital and go home. Peter was so happy about the news that he threw his arms around the physician's neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Ryder, though visibly uncomfortable, had laughed along with Nathan.

"I don't wanna ride in that," Peter objected when an orderly arrived to escort him out in a wheelchair. "I can walk now."

"It's an exciting day and we want you to be as comfortable as possible for it," the orderly said with a smile. "Just think of it as the last chance to be spoiled rotten."

"Go on," Nathan urged him sweetly.

Rolling his eyes, Peter obeyed and took a seat in the chair. He subconsciously checked the hair covering his disfigured ear before they were out the door and finally outside in the world again.
It felt like coming back to Earth from years of an alien reality. Peter smiled at the overcast weather, happy to actually be under the sky without white ceilings and fluorescent lights separating them. He secretly hoped it would rain soon.

Ahead of him was a taxi, where Nathan was seeing to the luggage inside the trunk. Peter suddenly felt a twist in his chest and he stiffened in the wheelchair. The last time he remembered being in a car was when Nathan's own vehicle had broken down deep in the woods.

"What's the matter, little guy?" his brother asked worriedly when Peter shied away from the taxi. "Your stomach again?"

Peter shook his head, although he could practically feel his trachea constrict and shut the flow of air to his lungs. He had never had any asthmatic problems, and the experience was very frightening. Was he going to suffocate now that he had finally been allowed to go home?

"Peter?" Nathan knelt by his brother, still seated in the wheelchair, and carefully shook the boy by the shoulders. Peter, now pallid as a corpse, was clutching his throat as he gasped desperately for breath.

"Oh my God, Peter! Peter! Somebody, help! He's choking!"

Nathan, the orderly who had escorted the brothers outside, and a few other members of the hospital staff gathered around Peter, trying to figure out what was happening to him when the younger Petrelli brother saw his world blacken and felt himself fall into a dark, bottomless void...

*

Images of frighteningly familiar faces were closing around him in the blackness until he found himself jolting awake. Nathan's voice was already telling him he was alright. Breathing deep, he looked around and realized he was sitting not in the wheelchair, but in one of the comfortable chairs of the hospital lobby. At his side were both Doctor Ryder and Nathan.

"What happened?"

"How do you feel, Peter?" the doctor asked.

Peter looked up at the voice and instantly had to shut his eyes. "I'm dizzy. My hands feel numb."

"Alright, just as I thought. You had a panic attack and fainted. It's nothing to be worried about, and in time, the feeling should subside."

"But... but I didn't mean to…"

"That's not your fault, buddy," Nathan responded. "It was a big step to go from the hospital to an airport. You were doing pretty well until we got to the car."

Peter's face became fearful again, but for a totally different reason this time. "Do I have to stay here now?" he asked, his eyes wide and frightened.

"No, not at all," the doctor said. "When you feel one of these episodes coming, just remember to breathe deeply. They're not dangerous, but you can get dizzy from exhaling so much carbon dioxide when you hyperventilate. Breathing into a paper bag can...-"

"It's gonna happen again?" Peter whimpered miserably, looking down at his still-trembling hands. He was a mess; why did Nathan even bother trying to bring him home?

"It might," Ryder said matter-of-factly. "I’m just telling you what to do in case it does."

Nathan threw a quick glance at his wristwatch and then one at the wall clock in the hospital lobby. Their flight was departing in less than two hours, and the drive to the airport would take at least an hour and forty minutes.

"What time is it?" Peter asked, noticing the glance at his watch.

"Ten past twelve," Nathan admitted. "We might not make it."

"But I want to go!" Peter objected worriedly, as though he might experience another attack. "We can't miss the plane! I don't care if we have to get in a car anymore!"

"Pete, the flight departs at two-twenty."

"Then we need to hurry!" the boy objected, desperation in his eyes. "I just want to go home, Nathan!"

"Baby, I'll get you home, I promise," Nathan said with mild annoyance in his voice. "We're just going to have to take another flight. I'm sure they still have seats for the next flight to New York."

"You don't know that," Peter said with a sniffle. His eyes were already shiny with tears. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I-It's my fault... I...We're late because of me, and now we won't even get home...!"

"Pete..." The lawyer pulled his little brother into a one-armed hug. "You couldn't help what happened. We're just not very fortunate, that's all. If you want, I could rent a car and drive us home..."

"No!" was Peter's instinctive reply. He was well aware that driving from Pennsylvania to New York was an hour-long drive that included passing areas that weren't densely populated. Perhaps the directions even included some dirt roads.

"It's not you..." he sniffled, his head becoming heavy as he held back tears. "What if... what if we get lost or... somebody comes after us?"

"No, no. That won't happen. It might take us through the woods, but we won't get hurt again."

"But how do you know that? You don't know for sure!" Peter argued. "God, I'm sorry... I've fucked everything up..."

"Baby, you didn't. It's not your fault."

Peter became aware of passersby staring at the commotion he made, but he could not help his reaction. The numbness in his hands had not quite left him and now his chance of getting home had been missed. Face burning with shame, he sobbed heavily.

Nathan wiped his brother's face with a tissue and waited for Peter's tears to dry up. "I'll call the airport and ask when their next flight home is," he said. "Maybe we don't have to wait that long, after all. Okay?"

"Okay..." Peter murmured, though he did not sound very hopeful.

After finding the number to the Philadelphia National Airport in a phonebook, Nathan dialed it and was told that the there would not be any flights to NYC until two-twenty the following day. It was not exactly the news he wanted to give Peter.

"Can we go home today?" Peter asked, his eyes looking expectantly at Nathan when the older man returned to share the information he had gotten.

"I'm afraid not, sweetie. We're going to have to wait until tomorrow."

Nathan half-expected Peter to burst into tears again, but the boy just gave a long, weary sigh not appropriate for someone his tender age. "So what shall we do...?"

"We could stay at a motel until tomorrow morning before heading to the airport," Nathan suggested. He had a feeling Peter did not want to remain another night at the hospital.

"Okay..." Peter said, letting his head fall as he stared at his lap. Nathan knelt in front of him, hands resting on skinny shoulders.

"You alright?"

"My head hurts," the young man mumbled.

Large hands swept through his hair and gently massaged, careful to avoid the mangled ear.

"How's your stomach?"

"I dunno. I guess it's okay."

Nathan smiled as he stroked a still flushed cheek. "Let's go to a motel."

"Alright."

There was one only a few blocks from the hospital, and Peter insisted that he could walk the distance there, despite the suitcases they had to carry. Nathan grudgingly agreed, figuring it was not worth calling a cab and perhaps provoke another panic attack in Peter.

Their home for the night turned out to be an old, one level high building with a cracked and bumpy parking lot called Rest Easy motel. Two letters in the red neon sign were out, and a third one was flickering. Outside one of the rooms sat an old man in a lawn chair, bony knees crossed and smoking a cigarette.

"This place has seen better days," Nathan said. "I saw a Hampton Inn not far from here..."

"No, it's alright. I can stay here," Peter said.

"But will you be comfortable here?"

"I don't mind if it's not the Ritz-Carlton," Peter said curtly. "As long as there are no roaches and I can have a bed to sleep in, I'm okay."

Eyebrow raised at the looks of the place, Nathan shook his head and proceeded inside, his brother following close behind.

Hitting the bell at the front desk, Nathan watched as an old woman put down some folders and approached him.

"Checking in, sir?"

"Yes, just for one night." The lawyer tried to ignore the smell of the lady's clothes and breath, all of which were saturated in cigarette smoke. Hopefully the room the brothers were granted would not smell the same way.

"Nathan?" Peter asked, tugging at his brother's sleeve. "Can we get a double bed?"

"Peter..." Nathan felt the colour rise in his face when he was once again forced to face the motel owner's gaze. Oh great. It could have been his imagination, but it also could have been contempt and suspicion he saw in her eyes. After all, Peter's question, though innocent, could also be interpreted in a far less innocent way.

"I suppose that can be arranged..." she muttered, choosing one key from the long row on the wall behind the counter.

"This is my brother," Nathan said quickly. "He's not well."

A raised eyebrow was all he received in reply and the lady handed the key to him. "You're paying in advance. Forty-six dollars a night, including a parking spot."

"Does it have a double bed?" Peter asked imploringly.

"Peter, will you stop?" Nathan hissed under his breath.

"Yes, it does. Room sixteen. Enjoy your stay."

Thankfully the room did not stink of cigarettes. Peter sat on the bed and tested the springs. It would do. He felt tired enough to fall asleep soon anyway, at his brother's side...

He glanced up at Nathan, who was opening a suit case and removing some toiletries. Facing the wall, the older man was quick and efficient in his movements, a cold professional manner that his brother recognized.

"Are you mad at me?" the boy asked in a small voice.

Nathan sighed. The last thing he needed right now was dealing with his brother's tears. "No, Peter, I'm not mad. Do you want something to eat? We still have some sandwiches in the cooler."

"You're lying. You are mad," Peter insisted. "What did I do wrong? Tell me, Nathan!"

Nathan spun on his heels, looking and feeling exasperated. He was losing his patience with Peter for the first time since the incident.

"By asking the lady that question, you made me seem like some goddamned perv bringing in jailbait! Be glad she didn't call the cops on us."

Peter was sobbing now. "I didn't mean to... Please don't be mad, Nathan..."

Turning his back on the tearful expression, Nathan sighed tiredly. He needed sleep; they both did. "It's alright. Just... don't do it again, okay?"

"I won't. I'm sorry... please... Don't be mad at me...?"

"Peter, I'm not..." turning to face him again, Nathan was caught off guard by the lack of color once more present in his little brother's face. Thin hands were shaking and though he was disoriented, the younger man stood, taking uneasy steps toward the lawyer.

"Please..." he managed to beg before he once more began to hyperventilate.

Nathan caught the boy before he sank to the floor and kept Peter's head upright, hand tightly clasping that of his brother. He had no paper bag for Peter to breathe into, but if the attacks were going to be this frequent, he had better get one as soon as possible.

Though not nearly as dramatic as the initial one, Peter was still sweaty and exhausted after the attack had passed, and his breathing and heart rate slowly went back to normal. Being placed on the bed by his older brother, Peter found he didn't even have the energy to cry anymore. All he could feel was despair and emptiness.

"Nathan..."

"Yes, baby?" A broad hand was brushing back sweaty strands of hair from Peter's forehead.

"Maybe you should have just let me d-die... I'll never be okay. I know that."

"Hey..." Nathan replied, trying to hold back the weakness that almost showed itself in his voice. "Remember what I said? I'm not gonna give up on you. And you can't give up either." One of the man's big hands took Peter's in his own, and some of the numbness went away with a reassuring squeeze.

“I'd never let you die if I knew you were going to be alright. And you will be, I know it."

Lip quivering in time with his chin, Peter shook his head, hopelessness in his eyes. "It's so hard..."

"You don't have to do it alone. I'm sorry I got mad at you... We need to work this out together. I promise you don't have to do it alone."

Though it was only six PM, Peter was spent and wanted to turn in. Nathan offered him some food, but the boy declined the offer, claiming he was not hungry. Briefly Nathan wondered if his brother was yet fit to return home. The lawyer had himself a soggy, hastily slapped together tuna fish sandwich from the cooler and though far from appetizing, he figured it would do as far as dinner.

"Peter, you wanna take a shower?" Nathan asked when he was done eating. The hot and humid summer weather made him sweat, since the motel didn't even have air conditioning.

"Too tired..." Peter murmured back, face buried in a pillow.

"Alright then. I'll take one, and then we'll turn in, alright?"

The motel bathroom was far from exclusive, but at least it was free from roaches and other vermin. Nathan had his shower, and when he returned, towel wrapped around his waist, Peter had already undressed and settled himself in the middle of the bed.

The poor kid looked totally drained, his body settled and flat into the mattress like a cat. His steady breathing indicated that he was truly asleep, and Nathan was happy for it. Perhaps this meant that his little brother would soon be able to sleep by himself without any fear.

Fully drying off, Nathan slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and carefully eased himself into bed. He did not need to wake Peter just when he had managed to fall asleep. A minute after the light was turned off, however, Peter turned over. He crept toward Nathan, curled up around him, and fully fell asleep once more.

Though the action was familiar by now, never since the kidnapping had Peter attempted to sleep next to his brother whilst fully unclothed. The realization caused Nathan to remember their first few nights of the camping trip, sleeping inside the tent and sharing a sleeping bag. Peter had the intention of revealing his attraction to his brother then, but now, who knew if that attraction was still present?

After what he had been through, maybe Peter was disgusted at the very notion of sex. Nathan had not yet directly asked Peter if he still harbored a sexual attraction to his older brother. The current temperature made Peter's nude, sleeping body feel uncomfortably warm against Nathan's own partially unclothed form. Yet he could not bring himself to push the boy away. Peter needed the physical contact, and in an unfamiliar place, Nathan was his only security.

*

The cell phone Nathan used as an alarm clock woke them up at 7:30 AM the following morning. Peter, still plastered to his brother's side, whimpered at the rude awakening.

"Come on, little buddy. We gotta get up so we'll catch the flight this time," Nathan said, giving Peter's bare bottom a friendly smack.

The light slap caused the boy to fully jolt awake. Turning over and sitting straight up, he rubbed the crusts from his eyes and shook his head, as though shaking loose any leftover sleep. Nathan briefly wondered if the attention paid to Peter's behind had brought up bad memories and had thus been alarming.

"You wanna freshen up before we take off?" the man asked, trying to switch gears. "Get a shower?"

"I guess so. Can you stay nearby in case I have an attack in the tub?"

"I'll take one with you if you like," Nathan replied. "It would be easier that way for us both to shower if you're worried about an attack."

A crooked smile appeared that Nathan had days ago thought he would never see again.

"Okay. Let's go then."

Peter didn't bother to put on any clothes before entering the bathroom with his brother. He was sweaty and hot from sleeping so close to Nathan and the lack of air conditioning in their room, and he could tell that Nathan was, too. The older man tinkered with the faucets for a while to adjust the temperature, making sure the water was neither cold nor scalding.

"We're saving ourselves time and the motel some water," Nathan joked as he dropped his pajama pants and kicked them away. "Come on, sweetie."

He stepped into the small, olive-green bathtub first, taking Peter's hand to make sure the boy wouldn't trip. Unfortunately the spray was not powerful enough to fit them both under it, and the showerhead was not removable, causing Peter to press up against the bigger man to get his share of the water.

"Whoops, you got any water, kiddo?" Nathan said, his voice friendly as he turned around. "Here, you get wet while I soap up."

The two brothers exchanged places and Peter closed his eyes as he savored the calming effect of the spray against his body. When he opened his eyes, he saw Nathan lathering up soap and scrubbing it over a wonderfully well-shaped figure. Nathan had lost some weight as well following the gruesome kidnapping, but he had always kept a close eye on his physique, and so the change was hardly noticeable. Only someone like Peter, who was around his brother so often, could have detected the weight loss.

"I'll get your back," the younger brother offered, and he took the bar of soap, rubbing it over the tanned skin. His fingers spread as he scrubbed, enjoying the feel of the muscle under his hands, but he was careful not to make his exploration so obvious to arouse suspicion.

"Well, thanks, buddy," Nathan said appreciatively while Peter's slender fingers lathered the hotel soap across his back. It was a cheap and not very fragrant brand, but the scent was definitely preferable to the smell of sweat. They had no shampoo available, and the lawyer rubbed some lather into his short, spiky hair to wash out yesterday's grease.

"Want me to help you?" he then asked Peter, who was standing under the spray of water without actively doing anything. His dark and usually voluminous hair lay slicked against his head like a smooth ebony helmet. It normally worked well to shield the torn right ear from anyone's eyes, but now the damage was painfully obvious.

The boy's large eyes opened and blinked the water away before focusing on Nathan. Then he nodded.

"Head first... sorry about no shampoo," Nathan said as he lathered, allowing the suds to fall onto his brother's face and shoulders.

Scrubbing at his face, Peter lifted his arms, so that Nathan's hands could scrub further downward. Eyes still closed under the shower's spray, Peter focused on the feel of those beautiful hands against his skin. Broad palms briefly passed over his nipples and he sighed at the touch. When his eyes finally opened, he was looking down. The first thing he saw were those hands against him, scrubbing further down.

"Ohh..." he whispered, sensing the heat which suddenly passed through him. "Oh no..."

Nathan had helped him get washed at the hospital a few times, but his injuries combined with the cold and clinical environment had made it impossible to find anything arousing in the touch despite his feelings for his brother. Now, however, when Nathan himself was naked and standing only an inch from him...

"What's the matter?" Nathan's hands ceased their scrubbing when he noticed Peter's sudden response. The younger Petrelli was hiding his face in his hands, making little whimpers and trying to shy away from his brother. However, with the limited space they were in, he didn't have anywhere to go.

"I'm sorry..." Peter said, and Nathan was just about to ask what he was apologizing for when he saw it. His baby brother had an erection.

"I'm so sorry..." the younger man kept saying, trying to back away where no further space was given."It just happened, it... when your hands went down... I'm sorry, Nathan..."

"Peter..." the older man said gently, his voice just audible above the spray. "Peter, I'm not angry with you. It's alright, it happens."

"It can't!" the young man argued. "We're brothers! I can't react like this to my own brother!"

"It's not your fault. You've been through something horrible." Nathan carefully reached out, and he thanked God when his touch against his brother's head did not illicit a frightened wince.

"You're still healing. Don't feel ashamed. Come here." He attempted to pull his little brother into a hug, but Peter held back at the last possible moment.

"Don't encourage it. The stupid hard-on... Don't hug me like this."

"Nonsense. Come here." Nathan resolutely pulled Peter into his arms and held him close, despite the boy's initial protests.

For a moment Peter's trembling, shaky breaths made Nathan fear another upcoming panic attack, but none came. Peter eventually relaxed into the embrace and let Nathan hold him close, despite the fact that his stiff member was poking his brother's thigh.

"Petey..." Nathan took the boy's furiously blushing face in his hands and turned it up toward himself. The young man's tears had mingled with the water from the shower. "Peter... look at me. I need you to tell me something."

"What...?"

"Those feelings for me that you told me about... do you still have them?"

"I know I'm not supposed to... It's why God p-punished me, i-isn't it?"

Brow knitted, Nathan's hold on his brother went loose for a moment. His arms finally rested higher, around Peter's shoulders. His thumb stroked against the base of the boy's skull.

"I'm going to tell you something about God, sweetie," he said, his lips lightly moving wet strands of hair on Peter's head. "I don't believe in him. How could he exist just to let those awful things happen to a sweet little guy like you?"

"But I'm..."

"No," Nathan interrupted. He was not about to let Peter's own ego beat him to death. "You are the sweetest and most caring person I've ever known. Just because you're attracted to other men makes no difference."

"But I'm attracted to you," Peter insisted. "And you're my big brother. Why don't you h-hate me for it?"

"Why would I hate you? I love you, Peter. I'd die for you. And why wouldn't I? You're my little baby."

Peter looked down and noticed that his hard-on had flagged somewhat. It was not yet entirely soft, but at least it was no longer poking at Nathan. Before lifting his gaze, he stole a quick glance at Nathan's dripping wet cock and could not help but imagine what it would look like engorged. This was enough to make blood rush back into his nether regions.

The older brother reached past Peter to turn off the flow of water and accidentally got his legs entangled with Peter’s. Both losing balance, their bodies collided and Peter's smaller frame was pushed harshly against the edge of the tub.

Nathan was not surprised at the yelp of shock and pain, but he was instantly at Peter's side to help him. His brother sat on the floor of the draining tub, hand over his now red face. Whether the flush of color was from pain or embarrassment, the lawyer was not certain.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He moved to wrap an arm around the thin body and he felt a hand squeeze his naked knee.

"Yeah..." Peter replied, pushing his hair back. "I'm fine. Just hurt my pride, that's all..."

Giving a soft chuckle, Nathan placed a hand on his brother's head and pulled him close, kissing his temple.

"Let's get ready for our plane then." He took one of the thin hands in his own and pulled while Peter managed to stand.

"Good idea."

The two brothers left the motel shortly afterwards and received a knowing glance from the old lady in the reception. Nathan suspected that she did not believe Peter was his baby brother and instead figured the lawyer had spent the night with his teenage love slave. Holding Peter's hand, he ignored her and left without as much as a nod or a smile.

"I guess I'll call a cab now," Nathan declared once they had crossed the parking lot with their luggage. The older man carried everything himself except for a small backpack that Peter insisted on keeping. Considering the boy's physique and mental state, his brother thought it unsafe to put him responsible for anything more.

When the taxi arrived, Peter felt his stomach tighten inside. He grabbed Nathan's hand once more and Nathan recognized a very anxious expression.

"You sure you can do this?" he asked.

Peter took a deep breath and squeezed the man's hand tightly. "I'm good. It's just a taxi. It'll be okay."

The words seemed to be spoken more to himself than his older brother.

Once the luggage was packed, Nathan opened the door for his brother and Peter carefully entered as though he did not trust the stability of the vehicle itself. However, Peter felt no sign of a panic attack, and the only moment where his sense of security was threatened was in that brief moment between the closing of his side's door and Nathan opening the other to take his own seat.

"Philly Airport, please," the older brother requested, and in no time the taxi was down the road. Nathan placed an arm around his little brother's shoulders and was rewarded with a smile.

After less than an hour into the drive, Nathan realized that Peter had fallen asleep against his shoulder. Soft snores emanated from him, and a string of saliva dangled from his half-open mouth. Nathan pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his brother's mouth without waking him up. For a moment it struck him as odd that Peter was so tired after sleeping almost around the clock, but then again, the boy was always tired nowadays. It probably had to do with his the trauma and the weakness of his still healing body. And also the fact that he wasn't eating properly.

Once at the airport, the lawyer promised himself that he would take Peter to a restaurant and make his brother eat a square meal before boarding the plane. Now they had plenty of time to kill, after all.


TBC...