Brother's Keeper

Chapter 15

Arriving at the airport went on without a hitch, and in no time Petrelli brothers were turning in their luggage and collecting their boarding passes.

"Isn't that great, buddy?" Nathan said to his little brother. "We've got first class. No sleeping in cramped spaces, no annoying fellow passengers..."

"Awesome. I've never slept comfortably in a plane before."

"It's nice, you'll like it." Nathan had taken plenty of plane rides before, some in coach and some in first class. While he was quite used to traveling, his brother had only flown once or twice and both times had been in unpleasant company and equally unpleasant sleeping conditions.

"We never got a decent meal before we left," Nathan pointed out as the two brothers wandered through the airport. "How about some brunch?"

"I think I can manage," Peter said. "We can wait until we get on the plane."

"That's a long wait. Come on, my treat."

With two and a half hours before their flight was set to boarding, Nathan figured that both he and Peter had plenty of time to indulge. The boy suggested getting something at Taco Bell, but Nathan would have none of it. McDonald's and Burger King were out of question, as well, much to Peter's displeasure. Obviously the trauma had not ruined Peter's taste in junk food, the lawyer thought. It was one bad habit that he would not have missed in his little brother.

"How about that one?" Nathan gestured at an Italian restaurant named Luigi's. It was the only Italian place he had managed to find at the whole airport. "You wanna get something Italian?"

"I suppose..." Peter muttered. "If it means I can have pizza...?"

"Sure, bud," Nathan replied with a smile. "Anything you want, as long as you think your stomach can handle it."

Being a restaurant within an airport, Luigi's was quick, but surprisingly of good quality. Nathan indulged in a gnocci goulash and red wine while Peter took the opportunity to try what looked like an immaculate, thick-crusted wood fired pizza. The illustration in the menu proved his assumptions correct: his meal was delicious.

"Don't suppose you want to try again at alcohol," his brother offered, gesturing with wine glass in hand.

Peter made an uncomfortable expression. "No thanks. I got all I needed to know from that beer. So how's your meal?"

"Wonderful. Yours?"

"It's really good. I might not be able to finish it all though. They gave me a lot."

"Go on, now," Nathan urged, only half-serious. "Eat as much as you can muster."

Peter ate one slice after the other, and once two-thirds of the pizza were gone, his stomach finally put a definitive end to it.

"I don't think I can eat more..." he panted, leaning back in his chair and just when his back hit the backrest, an audible burp exited the boy's half-open mouth.

Nathan couldn't stifle his laughter despite the hurt looks his brother gave him. "That's alright, little guy. You did good. I think you might last through the flight just fine with all that in your stomach."

He glanced at his watch and realized they only had forty minutes till boarding. Emptying his wine glass in a single sweep, the older Petrelli then stood up.

"I have to go take a piss," he said. "And you should, too. That Pepsi is gonna go straight through you, kiddo."

"Good idea," Peter replied. He knew what his brother said was true, but his real reason to use the restroom was to stay with his brother at all times. He hated to lose sight of Nathan at this point.

Another light burp escaped his lips and would have gone by unnoticed if Nathan had not been right next to him as the brothers washed their hands at the sinks.

"You packed quite a bit away," the lawyer observed with a chuckle. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. Didn't think I could make it."

"Here's the proof," Nathan said, prodding lightly at a swollen stomach which looked strange in comparison to the rest of the boy's scrawny figure.

"Come onnn," Peter whined, slightly embarrassed but smiling all the same. "Let's get on the plane already, you big jerk."

"Alright. Let's go home."

With the help of signs, the Petrelli brothers managed to find gate 62, where their flight was to depart, without any difficulties even though Nathan had not been to this particular airport before. A few of their fellow travelers were already present by the gate, and the two young men took a seat in a so far empty row of chairs. Peter had brought his small backpack as carry-on luggage, while Nathan merely held on to his briefcase.

"I'm thirsty..." the boy complained after only five minutes, with still almost half an hour until boarding.

"It's because you ate all that salt in the pizza," Nathan explained. "Once we get on the plane, they'll serve us drinks and..."

"But I want something to drink now," Peter insisted. "I can't wait that long."

Nathan sighed. "Okay, I'll bring you a soda bottle or something."

There was a small convenience store only about a hundred feet away, and he headed for it. A hand grabbed his arm and at first he was startled, he turned to see only his brother. Of course, he thought. Peter hated being alone since they arrived at the hospital, why would being in a huge airport make any difference?

Fifteen minutes and half a water bottle later, the passengers were finally able to go through security and board the plane. While most of the passengers were directed through a tunnel leading to the coach cabin, some, including the Petrelli brothers, entered the first class cabin and Nathan delighted in the amazed smile on his little brother's face.

"Much better than coach huh?" he asked.

"Yeah!"

Ruffling Peter's hair, he steered them both toward their assigned seats, which luckily were located near the row of windows; 7 A and B.

"Can I sit closest to the window?" Peter asked while Nathan took their carry-on luggage and stuffed it into the compartment above the seats.

"Sure, buddy. It's all yours."

The boy actually looked excited for the first time in over a month. Nathan was not sure if it was the prospect of finally going home or the flight that excited Peter, or possibly even a mixture of both. Seating himself next to his brother, Nathan Petrelli could not wait to put Pennsylvania behind him, perhaps for good.

"It'll look especially pretty when we pass the clouds," Nathan advised. "So keep an eye out once we take off."

Smiling at his brother's seemingly light mood, he noticed in the edge of his vision that Peter was flexing his hands and fingers as though they hurt.

"Something wrong?"

"My hands are going a little numb," Peter answered. "I guess I'm a little too excited. Oh, don't fuss over it, I'm fine," he remarked when two fingers were pressed against his neck to detect a pulse.

"I'm just checking," Nathan said. "With your panic attacks, I'm keeping an eye on how overwhelmed you get."

Peter sighed and sat back in his chair, still flexing his hands.

During the upcoming few minutes, the usual routines were followed; the pilot announced through the speaker phone that they would be taking off and wished them all a pleasant trip, stewardesses showed them how to use the safety equipment and how to act in the case of an emergency, and the seatbelt signs were lit, indicating that all passengers were to be seated during take-off.

Once the plane engines fired up and started roaring, Peter's anxiety increased, and he suddenly wished that he was safe on the ground instead of trapped in this huge, metal hulk of an airplane. What if something went wrong? What if... they crashed? It wasn't very likely to happen, but being kidnapped by a family of psychopaths in rural Pennsylvania was just as unlikely, and it happened.

"N-Nathan..." Peter tugged on his big brother's sleeve, his breathing already shallow and rapid. "I'm scared...!"

"It'll be okay," Nathan replied.

After all of their efforts to leave this damn place, they could not stop now. Peter needed to face his fears and if they were stranded once more, Nathan suspected his brother would become miserable beyond belief at causing yet another delay in their travels.

"Look at me, buddy," Nathan said, and he watched a set of big beautiful eyes regard him with fear. "Hold my hand, and everything will be okay."

Peter hesitated, doubtful that the attempt at comfort would work, but when the plane began to move along the concrete, he instantly grabbed Nathan's hand and squeezed it. His big brother squeezed back and smiled.

"We've both flown before, remember?" the lawyer continued. "And it's one of the safest ways to travel. Now relax and keep holding my hand. Soon we'll be up in the air and after that, it'll be no time before we arrive home."

The pilot had said that the estimated flying time was one hour and five minutes. Not long at all, but Nathan knew that even a minute felt like an hour when one was scared or otherwise uncomfortable. And Peter most certainly was.

The plane gained more and more speed, and finally, after a series of light bumps, the wheels left the ground. Nathan felt his ears plug up and swallowed to reverse the feeling. Peter was squeezing his hand spasmodically by now and his face was twisted in an agonized grimace. The hand not joined with Nathan's was pressed against his temple.

"Buddy..." the older man whispered. "Petey... sweetheart, are you okay?"

A small whimper escaped Peter, but he did not manage a coherent reply. Even his face had gone ashen grey.

"We're doing fine, you and I," Nathan reminded him. "The plane's almost up to the top. You're gonna miss going over the clouds."

"That's okay," Peter's voice managed to squeak. "Just let me know when the plane stops going up."

His free hand closing securely over his and Peter's, Nathan kept an eye on the small sign indicating fastened seatbelts. The moment he informed his brother that it ceased to glow, he watched as Peter's tense body practically melted in relief. The hand at the younger man's temple went to his eyes as he breathed slowly.

"That was pretty damn scary."

"It's just a change of pressure, that's all," Nathan explained. "Nothing to worry about. You can relax now."

Peter sunk further into his seat, almost becoming enveloped in it. The lawyer could even see his beating pulse in a spot on his neck, but at least he was not hyperventilating anymore. They continued to hold hands for the next few minutes until Peter suddenly started struggling to unfasten his seatbelt.

"Hey, bud, are you going somewhere?"

"I... I need a bathroom..." Peter murmured, his face livid once more. This time, however, he held a hand against his stomach. Nathan had just reached over and unclasped the kid's belt when Peter started retching.

A startled shout was made by a fellow passenger nearby, calling the attention of a stewardess. In the few seconds it took her to get to the two brothers, Nathan - with his jacket sleeves doused in vomit - was struggling to open an air sickness bag while Peter was in a state of near panic, hand clamped over his mouth as he threw up again.

Grabbing another bag, the stewardess quickly opened it without any trouble and placed it in front of Peter, who spewed out more vomit as he removed his hands to hold the bag. Already another steward was hurrying forward with cleaning supplies.

"Come on, Peter," Nathan said, pulling on his brother's arm and making him stand. "Let's get you to the toilet."

Once Peter was behind the door, vomiting his previously delicious pizza away, Nathan removed his jacket and realized with annoyance that some puke had gotten onto his trousers as well.

"Goddamn it..." he muttered, jerking a bunch of tissues from the box and wiping at the mess. It had a foul, acrid smell, and Nathan suspected he would have to have these clothes dry-cleaned to get the stench out.

Peter, bent over the small toilet seat, retched up yet another round, this time without soiling anything. Not that it mattered much. The kid's entire sweater front and lap were covered in stomach acid and pieces of half-digested pizza from Luigi's. Nathan ceased his attempt to clean his own clothes and knelt next to his little brother, rubbing the boy's long, slender neck, now covered in cold sweat.

"Hey buddy... How are you holding up?" he asked gently.

"I'm sorry..." Peter croaked, his voice hacking and raw. "I didn't m-mean... to throw up on you..."

"Shhh..." Nathan whispered. "Just stay here for a moment. Relax. Get it all out and we'll ask for a glass of water once you're done." He grabbed some paper towels and wet them under the sink faucet, patting the makeshift cloth against the back of Peter's neck.

"Does that feel good?"

Peter only nodded, his body wearily resting against the toilet seat as his stomach moved beyond gagging and retching. Once he figured it was safe to leave the seat, he sat back against the wall of the cramped space. The boy sadly regarded his sweater and jeans.

"I'm such a mess," he mumbled. "Mentally and literally."

"It's alright," Nathan responded, wetting the bunch of paper towels again and this time wiping at his brother's face. "You've got some extra clothes in your backpack."

"But you don't," Peter argued. "And you can't wear mine. You're too big."

Nathan chuckled softly at the statement and sat down next to Peter on the lavatory floor. The younger man regarded him with large, sad eyes that were now shiny with tears. It didn't take a genius to figure out Peter was about to start crying.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'll get something at the JFK airport."

There was a sudden knock on the door and the slightly anxious voice of a stewardess asked if they were alright or if they needed anything. Nathan figured they had given the girls quite a scare, too.

"We're fine, thanks," he called back. "Just trying to make ourselves look presentable again."

Once the stewardess had left, Nathan directed his attention back to Peter. Though no longer retching, his brother looked absolutely drained.

"You ready to go back out there, little buddy?"

Nibbling slightly on his lip, Peter blushed a little. "Could you go get me my other clothes before I go out? I don't want to be messy anymore."

"Sure thing. Sit tight."

Once Nathan found the extra set of clothing in the stuffed full backpack, he returned to allow his brother a quick change. Still blushing, but only slightly, Peter finally left the restroom wearing a pair of khakis and a t-shirt. He still felt unclean from the idea of vomiting all over himself, but at least his clothes were dry and comfortable.

"You okay?" Nathan inquired, looking away from the magazine he was reading and wrapping an arm around his brother, who simply leant against him as they sat side by side. He felt a nod against his shoulder and so he patted the long dark hair under his hand.


The smatter of high heels approaching made Peter open his eyes and he was greeted with the sight of a pretty, blonde stewardess with the name "Marie" on her name tag standing next to their seats. The blue and white stewardess uniform fit very well on her and accentuated her shapely, rather ample physique.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked sweetly, a large smile on her face.

Peter looked away and shook his head almost imperceptibly, hoping she would just leave them alone. Any attention paid to him right now made Peter feel uncomfortable.

Nathan flashed the woman a dashing smile of his own and let his gaze sweep over her form. "Some tea for me, please. Earl Grey. And a Coke for my brother here."

"Nathan, I don't want--"

"You need something in your system besides water," the lawyer said. "Or you might faint again."

At first, Peter said nothing, and the woman known as Marie was about to leave with the request, but was stopped by the boy's voice calling out to her.

"Could I get a Pepsi instead?"

"Sure thing, honey," the stewardess replied with a smile that had been practiced for years. She turned and left, and only a minute later she returned with the drinks. "Will there be anything else for your two?" she asked.

"No thanks, Marie," Nathan answered, and his smile was one he had used many a time for strangers as well. "But we'll ring you if we think of something."

"A pleasure to help, sir," she said sweetly, and turned her attention to another passenger.

"Nice," came an annoyed grumble. Nathan glanced at the head against his shoulder.

"What?"

"Pretty smooth," Peter stated. "Especially for a guy who's seeing a woman he admitted he might propose to."

"Peter!" Nathan exclaimed, unable to stop himself. "What are you saying? I was being friendly, that's all."

"Your eyes were all over her. Don't you think I saw that? And you would have liked your hands to be too, I know it."

"You keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand, little brother," Nathan said coldly. "It's called being social. Maybe you should try it, Peter."

The boy withdrew his head so it was no longer resting against Nathan's shoulder. "You were flirting with her. Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Nathan. You only get that look in your eye when you see something you like."

Nathan was tired, not only from the poor amount of sleep he had been getting lately, but of the bratty attitude his little brother had recently adopted.

"Maybe it's because I'm a man and she's got a body like Pamela Anderson, did you ever think of that? It's called being heterosexual. Maybe if the steward was a guy instead, you would understand...?"

Peter slowly turned his head towards his brother, and Nathan immediately regretted losing his patience with the boy. His little brother looked at him with eyes that read of both shock and disappointment. Perhaps that disappointment was actually betrayal. Instantly Nathan's glare softened into an expression of guilt. Why had he said that? They had been through so much, survived so many horrors, and here he was stooping down to the level of his little brother's regressed state.

"Petey, I'm sorry," Nathan said, reaching out to touch Peter's cheek, but the boy recoiled from his touch; something that had not happened once since the kidnapping. Nathan felt something heavy in his chest. He must really have hurt Peter this time. Badly.

Peter, face turned away from Nathan, kept his gaze fixed on the blue skies visible from the airplane window while his eyes teared up once more. After all the pain he had endured, he would not have thought words could hurt so much. Was Nathan disgusted with him? Despite his brother's proffered apologies, Peter could not bring himself to face Nathan right now. He was afraid of making another scene before all their fellow passengers. And yet the tears doggedly refused to comply with his wishes. Soon they were falling down his cheeks and onto his t-shirt.

The words his brother spoke to him in such irritation played over and over in a loop inside his mind. Nathan was affected by the fact that his brother was gay. In fact, Nathan must have hated him for it. That notion caused a small sob to escape Peter's lips, and he covered his face, even though he was turned away from the other man.

Nathan's stomach dropped to an impossible depth inside him. Seeing the tearful reaction and now the unraveling of his baby brother was like a knife in his chest. Perhaps he could now know what it felt like to have his own panic attack.

"Baby...?" he whispered, reaching out to Peter. "Please? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"You did," came a miserable reply.

"No, I didn't. I was angry. Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you." Nathan touched his brother's hair, and although Peter did not shy away anymore, he showed no signs of welcoming or appreciating the touch.

"You think I'm disgusting, don't you...?" Peter said in a whimper. "And I don't know, maybe I am..."

"How can you even say that?" Nathan felt he might burst into tears soon himself, unless he could somehow turn the course of events. Admitting that he had said a horrible thing to his brother was a first step. If only Peter could believe that he didn't mean it.

"Peter, I love you. Please look at me?"

Peter shook his head, staring out the window despite the fact that his eyes did not focus on anything specific outside the plane.

"You hate me," his voice said barely above a whisper. Any harder attempts would have given more volume to his words than he would intend. He was ashamed that he was breaking down in such a small space with so many nearby passengers, and yet he just could not help crying.

"No, sweetheart. I don't hate you. I never meant to suggest that I wasn't accepting of who or what you are. You're still my baby brother and nothing's changed about how I feel about you. Come on, sweetie, please...?"

With another tiny sob, Peter turned to face Nathan, though he still avoided the older man's gaze and wiped at the relentless tears escaping his eyes.

Nathan had some tissues in his trouser pocket, which he now presented to Peter. "Here."

The boy wordlessly took one and slowly wiped his red-rimmed eyes, swollen of all the crying he had done. Dear God, he was sick of all this crying, and yet he couldn't help himself. What a mess he had become. No wonder Nathan tired of him on occasion.

"I just wanna go home..." Peter said hoarsely, squeezing the now soaked tissue into a little ball. "Maybe then I won't be like this anymore..."

"Sweetie... we're almost home now," Nathan replied. "Just a little while longer, okay?" He reached around Peter to pull his brother against himself and was immensely grateful when the boy didn't resist.

A good two minutes later, the pilot announced over the speaker phones that descent at the JFK airport was due in just ten minutes and encouraged all passengers to fasten their seatbelts.

"I'm sorry, buddy," Nathan insisted. "I really am. We've been through so much. Things will get better in time, but until then, we'll have to both be patient with each other."

Peter finally brought himself to look at Nathan in the eyes, and he put out a hand to take Nathan's own. "Alright..."

As the plane began its descent towards the runway, Peter closed his eyes, breathing slowly.

"Will you be okay?" Nathan asked, concern clear in his eyes.

"Yeah..." Peter answered, brow furrowed. "We're just landing. I know that it's a matter of minutes until we're in the airport now. Don't worry, I won't throw up."

Nathan felt his own ear plug up during the descent, but he was too busy tending to his brother, who half-sat, half-lay in Nathan's lap, holding his head in his hands. Despite Peter's promise about not throwing up, the lawyer had an air sickness bag ready, just in case.

Once the wheels bumped against asphalt and the aircraft was safely on the ground, Peter finally dared open his tightly shut eyes. There were still remains on dried tears on his cheeks, and Nathan once again wished he could bite his own off for making his baby brother so sad.

"Look, buddy. We made it. We're on the ground."

Peter, straightening up, cautiously peered out the window. The plane was now slowly rolling toward the gate where the passengers would be let off.

"We're home?" he asked.

"Well, not quite," Nathan admitted. "If you want to split hairs, we still need to take the car ride to the house, but otherwise, yes. We're in New York."

Peter anxiously looked out the window, and to Nathan's pleasant surprise, a smile broke free. The boy immediately began to unbuckle his seat belt, but Nathan put a hand against his fingers.

"Hold up, buddy. Wait until we're allowed to get up. Mom and dad will still be there. I told them we would be a day late."

Peter's smile faded, and gave an expression of sincerity. "I'm sorry about yesterday. We could have gotten home sooner if I hadn't..."

"No, that's quite alright," Nathan reassured him. "We've gotten through a lot. Trouble readjusting to the outside world takes a while."

A minute later, the seatbelt light dimmed, and Peter immediately unbuckled himself from his seat and grabbed his backpack. Nathan waited until the hastier passengers - many that probably had connecting flights - had gathered their things and left the first class cabin, before removing his briefcase from the overhead compartment. Peter was practically bouncing behind him.

"Nathan, can we move on?" the boy urged. "What if we're late and mom and dad leave without us?"

"Nonsense, silly. We're ten minutes early. Besides, we have to pick up our luggage until we can go meet up with them."

As much as he longed to see his mother again, Nathan was also worried about seeing his father. The last time they spoke, Arthur and the older Petrelli brother had parted on rather unfriendly terms. Nathan still resented him for what he had said about Peter and wondered if those feelings were just an immediate reaction to finding out about his younger son's orientation, or if he truly planned on disowning Peter.

Peter held his brother's hand in a death grip as they left the aircraft together with all the other passengers, first class and coach alike. It was obvious that Peter feared getting separated from Nathan in the crowd.

"I can't believe this," Peter said by the time they had entered the airport and searched for the luggage belts. "It's like I've never flown before."

"Calm down, we'll find it," Nathan replied, his hand still in a grip of iron. He felt as though he were walking an overzealous dog with the way Peter was attached to him yet struggling in front to hurry.

"The luggage isn't going anywhere," the lawyer reminded him.

"As long as no one else takes it," his brother said. "Come on!"

"Slow down, for heaven's sakes..."

Once they arrived at the conveyor's belt and had found the entirety of their luggage, Nathan took Peter's hand in his own again.

"No running," he ordered. "They will be there. Now settle down, okay?"

"Alriiiighhhht," Peter answered, his annoyance clear in the dragging of his response.

With two suitcases to deal with, along with his briefcase, Nathan was not able to hold his brother's hand anymore. Peter offered to drag one of the cases, but Nathan declined the offer. The boy's focus was really not the best, and if he let go of something only for a second, he risked losing it.

"Peter, stay close," Nathan admonished as they walked toward the domestic arrivals terminal. "Remember what I said?"

"No running, I know!" Peter muttered back with a frown. "Can you call mom just to make sure they're there?"

"No need to. I know they will be."

"How can you?"

"Because mom has never let us down before, has she?" Nathan said. "And do you really think she'd miss out on seeing her little baby boy after two long months? She's missed you terribly, Peter."

They finally passed through the small corridor that led to their goal. Instantly Peter's eyes were glassy and wide open. "Where are they, Nathan?!"

Indeed, finding either of their parents in such a crowd of greeters was difficult, and Nathan was about to respond that he did not know when suddenly he noticed someone several yards away. The woman was standing up from a bench, dressed expensively but conservatively, and she was walking right towards the two brothers.

"Mama!" Peter yelled, overjoyed at the sight of her. He had never gotten the chance to see her at the hospital, as he had been unconscious during her visit, and so this was the first time he actually saw her since he and Nathan had left for their camping trip.

Peter almost forgot Nathan's request to refrain from running, but he briskly walked to her and threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic, tight hug. Nathan could not help smiling at the sight, and calmly strode to where mother and son stood in reunion.

The force of Peter's embrace took Angela slightly aback, but she did not let any of this show on her face. Instead she hugged Peter back with the same fervor, happy that she had gotten one more chance to hold her son. When seeing Peter at the hospital during his first days after the rescue, beaten black and blue and hooked to several tubes and devices, Angela had feared it was the last she'd see of him breathing.

"Oh, my little boy, I've missed you so much..." the woman said compassionately, allowing her eyes to become slightly moist, despite not being the mushy type. This moment certainly deserved a few tears. Realizing that Nathan had caught up with them, she reluctantly released Peter and gave her older son a hug as well, albeit a less passionate one.

"And of course I've missed my big boy here as well. Welcome home, Nathan. I'm so glad to have you two back."

"Where's Dad?" the lawyer inquired as it dawned on him that Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, where did he go?" Peter added in, looking around for any sign of his father.

Angela Petrelli's eyes lost some of their joy, but her ability to restrain herself and her emotions helped to keep her from looking completely grave.

"He didn't arrive with me," she answered. "He had something come up at work. But he sends his love."

Nathan found such words odd to hear. What his mother had said was clearly a lie, but the man only knew this because of what had been spoken so many weeks ago in the hospital.

"When will I get to see him?" Peter asked, oblivious of the reason for his father's absence.

"This evening most likely," Angela said with a smile. "Do you have all of your things?"

Not detecting her deliberate attempts to change the subject, Peter nodded.

"I have a car waiting," the woman stated. "Best not keep it waiting much longer."

As promised, there was a cab waiting for them on the airport parking lot. After the brothers' luggage had been loaded into the trunk, Nathan took the front seat, thinking it would only be fair if his mother and little brother would get the back seat to themselves after being parted for so long.

As the cab left the airport space and entered the freeway, Peter sleepily rubbed his eyes. He still had the sour after-taste of vomit in his mouth, and both his throat and eyes felt dry and raw, probably from all the crying he had done. Well, once he got home, things would change for the better. It was a thought Peter was not yet willing to abandon.

"Mom?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm a little scared..."

"What's there to be afraid of, darling?" she questioned.

"I dunno... everything. Anything. I had a panic-attack on the plane... and when we left the hospital the first time."

"Nathan told me of the first attack when he explained your postponed departure on the phone," Angela replied, hand over Peter's own. "It's natural to react in such a way, dearest. What could you be scared of at home?"

Peter shrugged, uncertain and slightly embarrassed.

"He's been nervous on and off, Ma," Nathan added, and he turned to glance at his brother. "You'll feel better once you're home."

"It's been so long..." Peter said. "Maybe just a few weeks, but I feel like I haven't been home for years."

Truth was that Peter most of all feared things not going for the better even though he was allowed home. What if all the negative emotions he had experienced at the hospital still lingered even within the walls of the Petrelli mansion? The idea was too frightening to even consider more closely. Perhaps he was truly a damaged wreck with no chance of recovery.

It was almost five PM when the cab finally pulled over in front of the gates to the Petrellis' home. Angela paid the driver and Peter made vain attempts to help his brother unloading their luggage from the trunk. Nathan was afraid something would go amiss when Peter used his spindly arms to drag a 40-pound suitcase onto the ground, but he knew that the boy wanted to feel useful, so he refrained from objecting.

"Home, sweet home..." Nathan declared, regarding the place where he grew up but no longer lived.

"Mr Petrelli arrived home not twenty minutes ago, Ma'am," one of the hired help informed Angela as she entered the house. Her sons overheard the news and Peter smiled. Neither brother noticed the look of concern on their mother's face.

"Where is he?" Peter asked, and the minute he received an answer, he bolted for his father's location: the study.

Arthur Petrelli's "office away from the office" was a large study room framed to the ceiling by shelves of books, folders, and binders. His desk was against a wall at the center of the room, not by the windows where he could easily be distracted. Framed pictures used to decorate his desk, but they were soon moved elsewhere to make space for the man's work.

Arthur was sitting at his desk, absent-mindedly scanning over notes from his work, when the door was pushed open without so much as a warning knock.

"Daddy!" Peter exclaimed, his face reflecting childish joy at finally being reunited with his father after almost two long months. Unlike his mother, he had not even spoken with Arthur over the phone. His dad always seemed to be busy with other things when Peter was on the line.

The grey-haired lawyer looked up from his documents and instantly a crease formed between his brows. It was not the expression of joy that Peter had expected, but his mind was too blinded to fully decipher his father's reaction.

"Peter?"

"Hi, daddy! I've missed you so much! Did you miss me too?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Peter, I am busy right now, so if you'd go downstairs, I'll be with you when I have the time. Besides, what did I teach you about knocking before entering someone's room?"

"Peter?" Nathan's voice traveled in through the open door, and soon the older son appeared as well, looking rather disheveled compared to his usual immaculately groomed appearance.
Immediately he reached for Peter.

"Come on, sweetie, we shouldn't bother Dad in his office."

Hesitantly Peter returned to his big brother's side, glancing back at his father only once as he left the room.

Grimacing, Arthur watched the doorway for quite some time, observing the two young men grow smaller down the hallway and eventually sink out of sight as they descended stairs. Tiredly, he stood up from the desk, crossed the room, and closed the door. Shaking his head, he turned the lock.

Nathan guided his brother to the hall where their bedrooms were located. The room which had once been Nathan's had now become a guest bedroom, as the older brother no longer resided at the Petrelli estate, but across the hallway still sat Peter's room, and its door hung open to welcome its owner back. Peter entered, ignoring the open suitcases on his bed at first. He was simply happy to be back.

"How does it feel to be in your own room again?" Nathan inquired, hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I feel like I could get in bed and fall asleep in no time," Peter answered with a grin.

"Perhaps that's exactly what you should do," Nathan replied. "After you've had dinner with Mom and Dad, that is. I bet they've missed your presence at the table. We all know you're such a joy to watch when you're eating."

Peter punched his brother's shoulder in response to the barb, but he was still smiling, too excited to become annoyed for real. He had missed his own room and his own worn, comfortable bed, but suddenly it struck him that he would have to go back to sleeping all alone again, not just in a bed away from Nathan. His big brother would no longer be there to comfort and hold him at night if he had nightmares or got a panic-attack. The closest living people would be his parents, whose bedroom was located a few door down the hallway. However, even as a small boy, Peter had sought out his big brother rather than his parents if he wanted to crawl in with somebody.

"You okay?"

The voice of his older brother interrupted his thoughts, and Peter tried to smile, though suddenly he found the expression difficult.

"I just realized I'm going to be sleeping alone again."

Giving the notion some thought, Nathan pulled Peter into a loose, gentle hug, allowing their foreheads to touch. "It had to happen sometime. You're a big kid, though. It'll be fine."

"Maybe... maybe not... I got used to sleeping next to you, and now I'll be all by myself. You won't even be in the house." Peter tried to sound rational and calm, but his childish anxiety got the better of him, and the fragility was clear in his voice.

"I have an idea," Nathan responded, hand stroking his brother's back. Peter wanted to melt under that touch, to fully enjoy it, but he mentally chastised himself. He should not have thought of the gesture as anything but platonic.

"What's that?" he asked.

"How about I stay in my old room for a few nights until everything's settled?"

Peter's face lit up like a candle. "You would?"

"Sure, baby brother. You'll be sleeping on your own, but I'll be right next door, and if you have a nightmare, you can just call my name, and I'll come. Okay?"

Peter liked the sound of that very much. Touched to the point of tears, he hugged Nathan fiercely, trying to hide the fact that he was about to cry again. Lord knew his brother had had to deal without enough of that from him.

"Hey..." Nathan said carefully, holding Peter at arm's length and studying the boy's face. "You're not still mad at me, are you? For what happened on the plane?"

Peter shook his head. How could he ever manage to stay mad at Nathan when his brother did so much for him?

"Good. I was hoping you weren't." He cupped the other's pale little face in his hands and drew Peter close until their foreheads were resting against one another. The memory of how close he had been to losing his little sibling constantly resurfaced, and Nathan wondered if he was as unwilling to let go as Peter.

"Dinner should be ready soon," Nathan stated as he parted from his brother and proceeded to help him unpack his luggage. "We can suggest it then."

"Okay," Peter replied, liking the sound of that. It seemed as though things were finally going to turn around for them.

TBC...