A Hard Lesson

The sound of the front door banging open woke Nathan from his sleep. The room was dark, freezing cold, and Nathan hurt even worse now than he had before. He shifted over and let out a groan.

“Who’s in here? Nathan? Is that you?” Peter Petrelli’s voice sounded from the doorway. The light flipped on, and Peter gasped, “Holy shit, Nate, what happened? You look like you got hit by a goddamned truck!” Peter sat down next to him.

Now that Nathan saw his brother again, he couldn’t believe he had mistaken the future Peter for his own. His Peter’s face was softer, more open and innocent. The Peter who had assaulted him possessed a harder, more guarded look, haunted by inner demons that thankfully his Peter would never have.

Nathan sat up, his body protesting every movement, and he said, “Some guy picked a fight with me, and he was a lot stronger than me. I didn’t stand a chance.” There. That was all Peter had to know. He technically had not lied.

Peter said, “Oh, Nate. You look terrible. You should have gone to the hospital. Did you at least file a report with the police?”

Nathan did not answer, and Peter had a feeling that meant no. He gave his brother a hug, and noticed the blistering on his brother’s neck. “What the fuck is that?” he inquired softly, reaching into his nurse’s smock and pulling out a tube of ointment. He started gently applying it to Nathan’s burns.

“Ah--I think he burned me too. I think he had an ability. Please, Pete, just drop it, I hurt and I’m tired. Come lay with me. I need you,” Nathan said, his voice breaking.

Peter felt fear lance through him. Nathan was crying. Nathan never cried. Peter knew that there was something Nathan wasn’t telling him, but he had promised not to read Nathan’s mind anymore. Peter pulled off his smock and his shirt, and crawled into his bed next to his brother. Nathan buried his face into Peter’s shoulder and moaned, “I love you, Pete, and I’m so sorry.”

“What--what could you possibly be sorry about? Shh, go back to sleep. Come on, Nate, you’re scaring me. You’re crying all over me.” He rubbed his brother’s back soothingly, until Nathan calmed down a bit. When Peter’s hand gently cupped Nathan’s buttock, Nathan cringed and pushed his hand away.

“I’ll never touch you again, Peter, I swear to God I won’t,” Nathan said.

Peter put an arm around Nathan and whispered, “So…it’s over?”

“Yeah, Pete, it’s over.” Nathan realized that Peter thought he meant all of it was over. “No, no, I mean I’m never going to hurt you again. I can’t break your body, but I’m going to break your heart if I…” Nathan’s voice trailed off, and he sobbed softly.

Peter cursed himself for promising not to read Nathan’s mind. He had to know what was causing Nathan all this distress. Getting assaulted in the street wouldn’t make Nathan talk this way. A simple punch in the face wouldn’t make his brother cry like this. He couldn’t stop himself from peeking into his brother’s head, and what he saw there chilled him and angered him. Not only had someone beaten his brother, but someone had sexually abused him. Someone had raped his brother. What sick bastard could have done this to him? Nathan was an able-bodied man who could fly, for Christ’s sake. How hadn’t Nathan been able to get away?

“Oh, God. Who did this to you, Nate? Who hurt you? Oh, Nathan, I’m so sorry. You’re going to be okay.”

Peter pulled his brother gently into his arms, and held him close. As he probed his brother’s mind further, trying to grasp the identity of the person who had manhandled him, he came up against a furious resistance that Nathan had set. He could almost hear his brother’s voice tell him to turn around and leave that part of it alone. Peter always did anything Nathan asked of him, but he had one more question.

“Was it somebody we know?”

Nathan responded, crying hard again, his voice muffled against Peter’s chest, “No. No, no, no, leave it alone, Pete! Please!”

“Okay, okay. You have to calm down, Nate, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

Nathan lifted his impossibly heavy head, and looked into his brother’s eyes, which were dark with worry. “I am sick, Peter. I hate myself for what I’ve done to you. All the times I ever hurt you. I pick you up and abuse you, then cast you aside like a broken plaything. Then you come back to me, all shiny and good as new, and I do it all over again. I don’t even deserve you. I love you so much more than that, Peter.”

Peter sighed. “Nathan, don’t worry about it. You said it’s over, right? So don’t hate yourself because you did it. Forgive yourself because you’ve decided you won’t do it anymore.”

Nathan said no more, and he laid there in his brother’s arms, comforted by Peter’s words, the words that meant that Peter had forgiven him. He knew it would take a long while to forgive himself, though, if ever. Nathan Petrelli promised himself he wouldn’t touch his brother in any sexual way until he had fully let go of his guilt. No matter how long it took.

“Whatever you do, don’t you forget that I love you, Nate, no matter what,” Peter said. He gave his brother a tender kiss on his forehead, and lay with him until he was absolutely sure Nathan had fallen into a deep, restorative sleep.

***

Ten years forward, Peter Petrelli popped into existence in a deserted alleyway close to his apartment building in Manhattan. His legs brought him under their own volition into a bar around the corner, somehow knowing this was where he was supposed to be now. He ordered a Scotch on the rocks, and knocked it back in two long swallows. The alcohol would take the edge off of ten years’ worth of occurrences of this new future he had constructed that were now falling into place inside his mind. He summoned the bartender and ordered two more, one for himself, and one for the person who would be joining him shortly. He drank this one much more slowly. As he expected, a familiar hand came down on his shoulder. Peter smiled, and turned around.

“Buy your brother a drink?” Nathan Petrelli asked, leaning in to embrace him. Nathan pulled away much too soon.

“Already have,” Peter said softly, sliding Nathan the glass, catching his brother’s hazel eyes with his own.

Ten years didn’t really show all that much on his older brother’s face, and his broad, bright smile was as beautiful as always.

He hugged his brother again, and Nathan held onto him this time until Peter was ready to let go.

In this new future Peter had created, things were infinitely better. Nathan and Angela Petrelli lived, and his niece Claire Bennet did not have a murderous vendetta. Furthermore, the lives of all humans with abilities were not threatened by those who did not understand them, because Nathan had become their advocate, and had taken care of their interests in his position of power.

Some things had not turned out for the best, however. Nathan was not the President of the United States. He was still serving in his position as Senator of New York, having been re-elected after his first term. In this new timeline, Heidi Petrelli had divorced Nathan, and she had taken the two Petrelli boys away with her. Nathan saw them very infrequently, and had not remarried, content to be single. Perhaps worst of all was that he and Nathan were no longer lovers. But that was all right. He had his brother back, alive and well, and that was all that really mattered.

The future wasn’t set in stone, anyway. With Nathan in his life again, Peter knew that anything could happen. His mastery of the delicate workings of time had proved that the future was malleable, changeable at any given moment, present or past. Peter had made it possible. He had saved himself and his brother, his family, and everyone with abilities from the fate that now just barely lingered in Peter Petrelli’s mind and finally faded, fluttering away like a butterfly carried on the wind.
***

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Please take a minute to leave a review and a rating. Thanks.