Brother's Keeper

Chapter 18

He knew he was naked, and that he was bleeding somewhere, but he did not know where in the world he was. He could not see in front of him as he ran, but he could feel rocks and sticks under his feet. Up ahead someone was yelling out his name?

Nathan?

Peter called out for his big brother, following the voice. Something was after him, and he needed protection from whatever it was.

The moment he reached the voice, Peter realized his horrible error. The man shouting his name had not been Nathan. He stood face to face now with his father. Instead of welcoming arms to offer comfort and protection, Arthur Petrelli's visage read of hatred and disgust for his younger son. Realizing his error, Peter tried to recoil, but the moment he took a step back, his father's hand was around his throat like a vice.

"You brought this on yourself," the Petrelli patriarch said with a malevolent sneer. "You dumb, useless little faggot. You deserve everything that happened to you. You're not my son. No son of mine would shame the family like you have. For that, you must be punished."

The man bearing his father's face shoved Peter backward, but instead of landing on the ground, he was caught by a pair of strong arms.

//Nathan...// His relief tangible, Peter twisted his head to catch a glimpse of his brother, his saviour and protector. Only this was not Nathan. The man who held him was not his brother but Jeff.

//No...// he thought, sobbing. NO! Struggling to escape, Peter felt as though his limbs were made of rubber. He had little to no strength left as he sobbed and shouted in the darkness. Hands grabbed at him, but he did not know to whom they belonged. Voices echoed of the horrible family which nearly killed him, and his hateful father.

"Get out of my sight. You need to be punished," someone behind him said, a freakish amalgam of both Arthur and Jeff.

The floor was sticky and Peter realized he was laying against it, unable to break free of the disgusting stuff. He realized he should call to his brother, even though he had no idea where Nathan was. He thought he could hear his father whispering at him, and suddenly he felt teeth biting down against his ear.

A scream broke through his tightly clenched throat, and his eyes opened with a snap, taking in only darkness. Peter clawed at the surface he lay on, inhaling desperate gulps of air into his burning lungs. The ghostly representatives of his father and the abductors were gone, but he was terrified nonetheless.

Where was he? Why couldn't he see anything? Where was his brother?

Shaking in cold sweat, Peter curled into a little ball, pressing his face into what seemed like a pillow. A low wail replaced the cry he'd let out earlier and was only interrupted by his hacking teeth. Peter was not only cold but freezing, lying naked on a bed with nothing to cover him.

"N-Nathan..."

In what seemed like no time at all, he heard commotion outside his room. In the throes of his nightmare, he did not immediately recognize that he was in the guest bedroom of Nathan apartment, or that he was in his brother's home to begin with. All he could think of was how terrified he was, so he remained paralyzed on the mattress in fear, calling out his elder brother's name.

"Nathan! Nathan, where are you?"

*

Nathan had stirred from his slumber when he heard an awful moaning, followed by loud sobs. By the time he awoke and realized the noise was caused by his brother, a sharp cry filled the air and was quickly replaced by the sound of his name being called over and over.

Stumbling through the darkness, the young lawyer felt as though every second away from his brother was another second of damage done to Peter. In his hurry, he harshly grabbed the doorknob and swung the guest bedroom door open.

To his surprise, the small figure on the bed jerked back in terror when he approached, and it took Nathan a moment to realize that Peter probably didn't recognize him. Dark as it was, he was probably just another formless, threatening shape to his baby brother.

For a split second the elder brother considered illuminating the room by turning on the ceiling lights, but he suspected it would frighten Peter further rather than calm him. He had to prove his identity some other way.

"Pete? Petey, it's me, don't be scared." He also lowered his out-stretched hands, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Peter's voice was small, hoarse, when he finally spoke. "N-Nathan...?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm here. What's the matter?" Nathan took a seat on the edge of the bed and finally deemed it safe to let his hands touch his brother.

Peter tensed at the contact, but was otherwise unharmed. He looked in the dark at his brother and whimpered, causing an automatic embrace from Nathan.
"Easy, easy..." the older brother whispered, hearing little sobs escape from the fragile body in his arms. "It's alright, baby. Tell me what's wrong."

"They were here," a choked voice finally managed to squeak. "They w-were grabbing at me aa-a-and chasing me..."

"A nightmare?" Nathan asked.

Peter nodded against his shoulder.

"A bad one?"

Another nod. Peter was still trembling, and Nathan began to understand that the boy was not only scared out of his wits but also cold. No wonder, as he appeared to have kicked his blankets to the floor during his nightmare. He disengaged from Peter long enough to pick them up and wrap them around his brother's clammy little frame. If he kept this up, Peter really needed to start sleeping in a pajamas.

Telling Peter an "I told you so" would not be any use; Nathan actually admired the boy's courage to attempt sleeping by himself his first night at an unfamiliar place.

"Your hands feel like ice..." he said instead, taking Peter's tightly balled fists in his own hands to rub some warmth back into them. "God, look at you, little guy..." he mused aloud, watching the boy before him shiver with fear and cold, despite the blankets. In an attempt to further add to his baby brother's comfort, Nathan crawled under the covers.

"Lie down next to me, Peter," he said, and instantly the younger man slid into the curve of his brother's form. Thin arms wrapped tightly around Nathan's waist, almost desperately.

"Hey, careful there," he said, "I'll smoosh your arm by accident."

Instantly, Peter pressed his face into Nathan's chest, even though the dense hair there poked lightly at his skin like an itchy wool sweater. It was his brother's chest, and it felt warm and safe.

Nathan spent the following minutes softly cradling Peter, waiting for the boy's taut body to soften and relax. He did not want to know what his brother's dream had been about, but judging from Peter's response, it was something terrible.

"I'm here now, and you're safe..." Nathan murmured into the thick mop of hair that still smelled vaguely of their mother's shampoo. "Do you want you talk about your dream?"

He had expected another headshake, but this time he was surprised by an insistent nod.

"Dad let them take me..." Peter said, sounding small and frightened despite being in Nathan's arms. "He said I deserved it..."

"You don't," Nathan insisted, rubbing at his baby brother's back. "After what you went through, you're only afraid of getting hurt again. But you're here now, and so am I. You're with me, and you know that I will always be there for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah..." Peter said with a sniffle. "But... but dad..."

"Dad's a terrible man. He doesn't deserve to be your father."

The body within Nathan's arms was beginning to relax as Peter listened.

"He never felt like what a dad should be," the boy said. "When I was little... some days I wished dad was you."

Nathan could only sigh in reply. He realized with regret that he - not Arthur Petrelli - had practically raised the boy together with Angela. He had been almost thirteen when the Petrelli family's newest addition was born, and now that he thought back, Arthur had never made any attempts to connect emotionally with Peter. Until today, he had assumed it had to do with his father's basic, cold-hearted nature, but now he knew there was more to it than that. Peter was, technically speaking, a bastard son of another man.

//He's still my brother// Nathan reminded himself. //Nothing has changed. Our connection is still the same, despite who conceived Peter. He's still everything to me//

"When you were little," Nathan began tentatively, "and hurt yourself somehow, the first person you called out for was me. If I wasn't available, you'd call for Mom. I don't ever remember hearing you call out for Dad, though."

"I think… even back then..." Peter replied, "I knew that he wouldn't answer. I always knew that if you could hear me call, you would come, no matter what."

Nathan could hear the sleep crawling back into his little brother's voice as he lay there comfortably in his arms.

"You were always there for me, Nathan..."

"And I always will be," Nathan whispered, watching his little brother's face become increasingly lax. "Always."

As he too felt the pull of sleep, Nathan continued to watch his brother's face, the crooked mouth drooping without the control of consciousness. He looked peaceful as he rested alongside Nathan, and he now seemed to have nothing but pleasant dreams.

The lawyer figured this must have been the truth, because he was never woken by the sounds of nightmares.

*

Nathan got up around 7:30 AM the following morning, pleased to see that Peter was still soundly asleep and seemingly not plagued by any bad dreams. The lawyer followed his new morning routine following his return from the hospital; breakfast, thirty push-ups, twenty minutes on his elliptical machine, ten minutes working out with weights, and after that a pleasant cold shower to rinse off the sweat he had worked up during his exercise.

He was long done with his regime when Peter finally dragged his body out of bed and joined his brother in the kitchen. The boy carried an obvious "fresh-out-of-bed" look and had not bothered to dress or comb his hair. All he wore was a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Nathan was quite used to his brother's sleeping tendencies by now, especially following the kidnapping, and he put down his newspaper to address the boy.

"Well good morning, naked boy," he said with a smile. "How's the nudist today?"

Peter made a small, timid smile and rubbed at one of his eyes. "Kinda tired," a yawn punctuated his answer. He almost looked twelve again.

"You hungry?"

"A little," the boy admitted, and he seemed to shrink further into the bundle of blanket he wore around him like a cloak. It was another obvious but subconscious gesture from childhood. "Do you have pancakes?"

"Afraid not," Nathan replied. "But I have toast, cereal and milk, even chocolate milk if you'd prefer that. How's that for a breakfast?"

"Okay, I guess..." Peter murmured, not wanting to let his disappointment show. Really, he had no right to demand Nathan make pancakes just for him. He knew very well that his brother did not eat such for breakfast. Health freak that he was, Nathan did not even eat fried eggs.

"I can make you an omelet, if you want," Nathan offered, as if on cue. "But only if you go get dressed first."

Peter shivered inside his blanket-cocoon and at once looked embarrassed. Memories of how Arthur had treated him for appearing like that must have surfaced in his brain.

Noticing the discomfort in his brother's visage, Nathan was quick to respond. "It is Sunday, bud. You want to go to the park today, or just go outside afterward?"

Feeling self-conscious now, Peter shrugged, though the movement was difficult to see underneath the blanket. "I dunno... What would you put on the omelet?"

"Whatever you want, bud."

"Even bacon?"

"Uhmm, well..." Being the healthy eater that he was, Nathan had forgotten that he and his brother needed to go grocery shopping, as they did not exactly share the same tastes in food.

"Health junkie," Peter said with a smirk.

"Little brat," Nathan returned, hoping this meant his brother was beginning to brighten already.

"I think cereal's okay," Peter said. "But I think we should go to the store, or else all of your wheat and oats crap will make me starve."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we? You're already so tiny, and we need you to pack on some pounds, not lose any more."

Nathan reached out to ruffle his brother's already tousled hair, but Peter dodged his hand, now giggling, and the lawyer dared hope this day would pass without any greater misfortunes.

*

Later in the evening, the brothers parked themselves in front of the TV with a carton of Chinese take-away food each on their laps. Peter's appetite seemed to have improved in less than a day, and Nathan wondered if it had to do with being away from Arthur. Angela had told him that Peter had barely eaten anything during his two days at home.

"Nathan..." Peter began, chewing out the last of his egg noodles. They were watching a movie from Nathan's collection of VHS tapes called The Usual Suspects.

"Hmmmm?"

"I wanna take a shower after this."

"Sure," the older brother said. "You want any help with that?"

Peter nodded. "I think so. Will you... take one with me?”

"Not tonight. I already took my shower this morning."

Peter felt both stupid and embarrassed for asking. After what happened during their previous joint shower, it was no wonder Nathan did not want to share any more showers with him.

"I won't get a hard-on this time, I swear..." he murmured, staring into his almost empty carton of food.

Ignoring the movie, Nathan put his food on the nearby coffee table and turned his brother's face to him with a hand.

"Peter, do you think I'm ashamed of what happened last time?"

Even with his face turned to his older brother, Peter avoided the concerned eyes which looked right at him. He glanced downward, blush marking his cheeks.

"I'd be."

Nathan's hand flattened against his little brother's face, thumb rubbing at a flushed cheek.

"I was not ashamed of what happened. And I'm not ashamed of taking a bath with you. We've done that ever since you were a baby. You don't remember me bathing you in the tub when you were still practically a baby, but I sure do."

The idea of Nathan being one of his main caretakers even at infancy made Peter blush even greater.

"You and me, remember, Pete?" Nathan reassured the boy. "You and me together, no matter what. You don't ever have to feel ashamed, because I'm sure as hell not."

"It's... just hard..."

"I know it is, buddy. But I didn't lie to you. I've actually already taken my shower, but if you wanna hop in and join me tomorrow morning, you're more than welcome to."

"Really?"

"Of course. Let's finish the movie, and then we can get on with your shower. Okay?"

With his arm, Nathan reached out and drew Peter to rest against him. The younger man gratefully snuggled against him, and one hour later, when the movie finally ended, Peter was yawning almost continuously.

"I think I'm too tired for a shower..." he confessed. "I'll skip this one and take one with you tomorrow morning... if that's okay?"

"Sure. You want to turn in?"

"I think so."

Nathan made sure to choose his words well this time. "You want to try sleeping on your own again tonight?"

Peter was equally hesitant about what to say. "I... if I dream again... if it's bad..."

"I understand," Nathan said with a smile.

Peter made sure that it was absolutely allowed to sleep undressed in his older brother’s bed before he proceeded to strip and settle himself in. Meanwhile Nathan changed into a simple pair of pajama bottoms. By the time he turned to ask if the younger man was comfortable, Peter was already asleep. As he carefully eased himself under the covers, the lawyer could see a faint dot of saliva threatening to slide out of his brother's open mouth. Nathan could not help but grin in amusement, and he kissed the motionless boy's brow before wrapping his arms around the slight form.

"Good night, buddy."


TBC...