Brother's Keeper

Chapter 9

Nathan thought at first it had been all a dream, when he began to hear a voice. But the pain he felt reminded him of where he was. He was ashamed to have passed out. Where was Peter?? He could not feel him in his arms anymore.

"Can you hear me, sir?" a male voice asked.

Jolting awake, Nathan tried to sit up. They had found him. Jeff clearly had friends nearby, at the gas station.

//God, not again, please...//

He found he could not sit up, but the voice calmed him for a moment when he realized it did not have that familiar mountain drawl.

"Hold on, keep still," a voice of maturity said. "We found you here. Just stay still, you shouldn’t move."

"Where's my brother?" Nathan asked as his blurry vision adjusted.

"Just take it easy..."

A pair of hands attempted to hold him down, but Nathan would have none of it. He was done trusting people who pretended to have good intentions. Finding Peter was all that mattered now, and he forcefully threw the man's hands off him as he struggled to his feet. His head began to spin, and he swayed for a second or two to eventually find his balance.

"Where's my brother?!" he shouted in the stranger's still-blurry face. "Take me to my brother!"

"Sir, calm down," another voice approaching him from the side said, and he instantly recognized this one as female. "You need to sit down and relax. Here, drink some water."

A canteen was thrust into his hand, and Nathan was too desperate for water to consider whether or not it was safe to drink the proffered fluid.

Gasping after the long swing he took, he nearly collapsed again, but the man who had told him to lie down still held him steady.

"Where's my baby brother?" he groaned.

"He's in our van," the man replied. "We were on our way camping and Lee Ann saw something. Good thing we took a closer look."

The woman, most likely Lee Ann, guided the canteen back to Nathan's lips. "Keep drinking. We've called 911, they should be here soon."

"Is he okay?" Nathan asked after another few gulps.

"We're not sure," the woman admitted. "We gave him first aid, but he's unconscious."

"You guys look like you've been to hell and back," the man said.

Nathan only looked at the ground miserably. "Yeah. Can I see him? Please?"

Looking in the back of the van, Nathan climbed in instinctively and looked down on his brother. The couple had tried to patch him up, but there was only so much they could do for him. Waiting for an ambulance was going to be torture for the older brother.

The stained towel had been removed and replaced with a cleaner-looking blanket, and even though only Peter's head was visible, Nathan could see that their rescuers had done their best to wash and bandage the shredded earlobe and the cut in Peter's forehead. The quiet, unmoving nature of his brother at first made Nathan suspect the worst, and he rushed to the boy's side, pressing two fingers to his neck, desperately searching for a pulse. It was there. Quick, fluttering and faint, but it was there. Peter's heart was still beating.

Sobbing in relief, the lawyer pressed his ear against his little brother's faintly rising and falling ribcage, afraid that Peter's heart would stop if he as much as withdrew for a second.

"One of us should take a look at you too," Lee Ann said as she walked to the open door of the van.

"The ambulance can take care of it," Nathan muttered as he remained glued to his brother's side, ear still against the beating heart. He was not annoyed at these people who had practically saved the brothers' lives, but relieved at Peter's renewed chance of survival.

"I'm fine, he needs a hospital."

"They'll be here soon," the woman reassured him. "What happened to you guys?"

"Kidnapped," Nathan hesitantly said. The memory was still living on in his mind, and he could not help wondering if they were living on in Peter's dreams now. "They did such awful things to him."

"When we found you guys, you had him wrapped in that towel," Lee Ann said. "Even unconscious, you had him in your arms. He's got quite the big brother looking out for him."

Nathan did not feel like he could agree. Guilt had a chokehold on him as he gazed over a face which had been perfect and smiling only days before.

Now he could not be sure if he would ever see Peter smile again. Even if the kid survived this horrible ordeal, his spirit would most likely remain permanently scarred. The thought brought new tears to Nathan's eyes. He should have been able to protect Peter.

"I think..." Lee Ann said carefully, placing a hand on Nathan's taut shoulder. Even her gentle touch made him flinch. "I think we might have to remove the blanket and cover him with cold compresses to get his temperature down. His heart is already struggling. If his core temperature exceeds 42 degrees Celcius, he could die."

Nathan stared at her in surprise. She spoke like someone with medical training. "How do you know that? Are you a nurse?" he asked.

"Oh no, I'm just a health care assistant," she replied quickly. "But right now I'm grateful we had that course in first aid."

"Of course. Do whatever you think is best." Nathan was slightly surprised at how quickly he had come to fully trust this woman. Not straying from Peter's side, he pulled the blanket away and lifted his brother's small, too-warm hand and squeezed it lovingly.

Lee Ann returned a few moments later with a new towel and a bottle of cold water. "Poor little thing," she murmured compassionately while preparing the compresses. "How old is he?
Sixteen?"

"Eighteen," Nathan replied. "But he's always been little."

Peter murmured something inaudible in response to the cold towel being laid over his skin, but otherwise did nothing.

"Teddy?" the woman called out, “keep an eye on the road...?"

"A step ahead of you," her companion said from outside.

Nathan only wished that the ambulance would be arriving soon. The two brothers had not come all this way just to have medical help arrive too late.

"I figured I should hold on to your clothes, the towel..." Lee Ann said. "The police will need them when you guys are in the hospital."

"The police?" Nathan asked, far more engrossed in his brother's condition than small talk. "Guess so. I'm, more concerned about an ambulance. I just want him to live."

"I took a look at his backside," the lady added with hesitation. "Tried to help clean it up a bit, but... the police will want to see that too. For what it’s worth... I'm sorry for what happened to him."

"You figured out what they did to him, huh?"

"Pretty obvious."

"I tried to stop them, I swear..." Nathan said, not knowing if he was trying to convince Lee Ann or himself. "I really did... I begged them to take me instead, but they wouldn't... And I had to watch when they...!"

"God, I'm so sorry..." Lee Ann's arm came to rest around his shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

Nathan still held his brother's motionless hand and hoped that Peter at least registered his presence. Lee Ann poured some more cold water onto the towel and moved it from Peter's abdomen to his thighs.

"You mustn't blame yourself," she then told Nathan. "There wasn't anything that you could have done. You managed to get him out of there alive. You should be proud of yourself." Nathan shook his head with a miserable expression on his face.

"If he dies, I won't..."—

"He's going to make it," the woman interrupted. "God won't be so cruel he'll take him away from you after letting you go through something like this."

"There is no God!" Nathan snapped vehemently. "If there were, he wouldn't let such terrible things happen in the first place!"

"I can tell he means the world to you. There's quite an age gap between you, isn't there?"

"Almost thirteen years..." the lawyer murmured. "I'd given up hope of any siblings when Mom got pregnant with him. And when he was born..." Tears welled up in Nathan's eyes at the memory of holding his baby brother for the first time. "I love him more than anything in the world."

Lee Ann nodded gravely. "I've got a little sister myself. She's five years younger. If someone did something like that to her... I'd kill them."

"I know."

Closing his eyes, Nathan leant his forehead against Peter's hand. Four people. He had killed four people today. Possibly five if no help came for the disabled girl he had left behind. He did not regret defending himself and his brother, and part of him wished they were still suffering for their actions not only to his brother but god knew how many other people in the past. But all the same, he felt that sobering pang in the back of his head that ignored years of military training. He had killed four people.

Teddy's voice suddenly rang through the air. "The ambulance is here!"

By pure instinct, Nathan had scooped up Peter in his arms and edged himself out of the back of the van.

"Please, help him," he demanded to the first EMT he saw. Professionals soon took over in a blur of motion, and though he stood by and let them do their job, Nathan kept his eyes always on his brother.

He had no idea where the nearest hospital even was, or if Peter would survive the transport there. Nathan did not require medical training to realize how bad his brother's condition was. He watched as Peter's unconscious body was put on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance, trying not to disrupt the work of the paramedics and yet keep close to his baby brother. One of them, a middle-aged woman with auburn hair, made several attempts to insert a peripheral IV line into his brother's arm, but Peter's severe dehydration made finding a suitable vein difficult.
Nathan, who had been brought into the ambulance to have his own condition assessed, grew increasingly distressed as the attempts to give Peter IV therapy failed.

"Come on, damn it, try harder!" he shouted at the female EMT who was working on Peter. "He needs fluid, can't you see that?! Don't touch me, I'm fine!" he then growled at the man who insisted on examining and cleaning the cut in the lawyers temple.

"Calm down, sir," the woman - her access card identified her as Lorraine Redfield - admonished. "We're doing everything we can for your son."

"He's my baby brother..."

"We have to leave yesterday," the male EMT said before sending a report of the vehicle's two new travelers via a walkie-talkie.

Suddenly Lee Ann stepped forward, hand against the back door of the ambulance. "What name should I ask for at the hospital? I want to know how you guys do."

Nathan looked away from Peter only once so that he could speak with respect and gratitude to the couple who had helped him and his brother.

"Petrelli. Nathan and Peter Petrelli. Thank you."

The male paramedic reached out and closed the door, and within seconds the car was racing down the road and disappearing into the distance.

Nathan immediately returned his watchful gaze over his little brother, who still did nothing but lay there motionless. He was so weak that he did not even look like he was breathing.

The paramedics checked Nathan's vital signs and insisted that he too needed an IV. The older Petrelli brother did not object this time. With joint efforts, the two EMTs had managed to find a vein in the bend of Peter's right arm, and the boy was now hooked to an IV bag of lactated Ringer's solution.

Nathan felt a strong urge to speed up the infusion rate - one drop a second seemed far too slow, in his opinion - but he chose to respect the explanation given by the paramedics about too much fluid possibly over-exerting Peter's already straining heart.

"C-can I touch him?" Nathan asked once the technical stuff was out of the way and the ambulance staff's task consisted of monitoring their patient.

"Certainly, Mr. Petrelli," the male replied. "He'll be calmed by your presence, I'm sure."

Gulping to relieve his still dry throat, Nathan reached out with the gentility of handling fine crystal. He had this strange feeling that any more force against the boy would cause further damage. Large, tanned hand wrapped carefully around one so small and pale, he stroked at the skin with his thumb.

"It's okay now, buddy," Nathan said softly. He watched as eyes twitched back and forth behind closed lids. He wondered if that meant Peter could sense the voice and touch.

"We're okay now. Just hold on a little longer. Hold on for me. We're safe now. No more bad guys. I'm here and you're safe. You'll be okay. Just hold on."

He continued the long string of comforting words as though it were a chant that could magically save Peter. But only time and the skill of doctors would be able to tell the outcome of Nathan's little brother. The notion frightened him, but he sadly had to accept it and pray to the powers that be for his brother's survival.

The drive to the hospital took approximately forty minutes; Nathan was fairly sure of this despite not having a watch to check. He briefly wondered what had become of his Rolex, but any thoughts of his watch were quickly overshadowed by his concern for Peter. He could afford a new Rolex; one, two, or ten. Something money could not buy him was a new baby brother.

Once the ambulance reached its destination, a team of specialized emergency doctors and nurses were already waiting to treat Peter, and Nathan had to watch his brother get wheeled off on a stretcher surrounded by white-coated hospital staff. The sterile, plain environment gave little comfort, but at least it was a sharp contrast against the house of terror they had escaped from less than a day ago.

"Sir?"

Nathan jerked upon feeling a hand on his arm and spun around to face the owner of the hand and the voice that had spoken to him. The friendly, round face of a woman in her mid-twenties greeted him.

"My name is Hannah, and I'm a nurse here," she explained. "Do you need anything? A cup of coffee, maybe? Or just someone to talk to?"

Nathan gave himself a quick look over. He was still wearing the clothes he had taken off Mick's dead body and a shirt Teddy had kindly lent him. He was aware that his hygiene had suffered greatly during his time in captivity and that he probably didn't smell very nice.

"A shower would be great."

Hannah gestured to a doorway with a smile. "I think that can be arranged."

*

Exhaustion still plagued Nathan as he showered, even though he had been unconscious when Lee Ann and Teddy had found him. Leaning his head against the tile wall of the shower, he sunk to the floor and simply sat there as the steaming hot water rained over his aching form. Part of him wanted to refuse the current situation at hand. It was a miracle the two brothers had been found and were now in the safe locales of the hospital. His thoughts doggedly refused to stray from Peter, and he wondered if the young man was even alive now.

A few minutes later, he was drying off and putting on some new clothes brought by the nurse, who guided him to a small room. A doctor entered shortly to double check his present state of health.

"How's my brother?" Nathan asked when the doctor by the name of Ryder inquired if he had any questions.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Mr. Petrelli,” Ryder replied gravely while checking the rather extensive bruising on Nathan’s upper torso. The lawyer twitched when he doctor’s hands – though careful – brushed a particularly sore spot.

“I want to see him,” Nathan said in a thick voice. “I want to be with Peter.”

“I assure you, he is being taken care of by our best doctors, and they are doing everything in their power to save his life.”

“What are his chances, doctor? Be honest.” Nathan couldn’t bring himself to look the physician in the eye. He was already fighting hard not to break into tears.

“Only time will tell,” Ryder said, clearly not wanting to give Nathan any false hopes. “But I want you to know he’s in good hands.”

“When can I see him?”

“Mr. Petrelli, this needs stitching,” the doctor stated, dabbing an inch-long cut in the lawyer’s forehead. “And I’d like to do a CT on your chest, just to rule out any possible internal bleedings.”

Nathan nodded, but not with much enthusiasm. He knew he had to be cooperative, but thoughts of his brother’s current state and possible future possessed his every thought. He willingly followed the procedures made on his examination and waited with the last inch of patience he had left as he was x-rayed. Gazing over the scans on his computer screen, Ryder made a small noise of victory.

“Thought as much,” he stated. “A broken rib. But we can fix that like nothing, Let’s get you patched up then.”

“Can you find out how Peter’s doing too?” Nathan asked as he was led back to a seat where his ribs could be mended.

“This will just take a moment,” Ryder replied as though avoiding the question. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone knows about your brother.”

“Alright,” the elder Petrelli brother muttered. Even now as he blinked, little images of years long past resurfaced behind his eyelids. Peter as a little boy with a blanket around his neck as he stated with all of his five-year-old gusto that he was a superhero…

Nathan could not imagine a life without Peter. For the past eighteen years, his baby brother had been the most important person in his life. If Peter died… Nathan tried to force the thought out of his head, but it lingered, like a stubborn fly returning to the scent of sugar.

Images of himself and his parents at Peter’s funeral flashed through his head; a white casket, almost completely covered with flowers being lowered into deep layers of brown earth. Inside it was Peter, cold, unmoving and lifeless. His brother would never again open his eyes and regard Nathan with love and admiration, never again smile his crooked little smile and throw his arms around his big brother’s neck… The mere idea was so hideous that Nathan was forced to vehemently shake his head to rid himself of the images.

Ryder returned a short while later, accompanied by a nurse who would assist him in bandaging Nathan’s abused ribs.

“How’s my brother?” the lawyer immediately asked, determined not to settle with excuses this time. He was going to find Peter himself if need be.

“He is in the intensive care unit,” Ryder replied. “Some time ago his blood pressure dropped and he went into V-fib, but he’s been stabilized now. However, he is still in critical condition and it’s too soon to tell whether or not he will pull through. The next 24 hours will be critical.”

“He’s a fighter,” Nathan murmured. “He’ll make it. I know he will.”

“I can’t argue with you on that,” Ryder admitted. “The poor boy was brought here in a deplorable condition. I was surprised he was still breathing when he arrived. Only a few more hours, and he most certainly would have died.”

“Does he need any blood?” Nathan found himself asking. “If he does, we’re both blood type A. He can have mine, as much as he needs…”

“Mr. Petrelli, please,” the doctor replied with a smile. “He doesn’t need a transfusion. If he ever does, we know who to call, but for now, try to relax. It’s the best you can do for him right now.”

Skeptical though he was, Nathan listened and obeyed. The doctor and his team presumably knew what they were doing.

“Now, we have another question to ask,” Ryder continued. “Do you have any next of kin or family that we can contact? I’m sure you didn’t get all the way out in the middle of nowhere just on foot.”

“No, that’s right…” Nathan answered, his mind wandering. “God, Mom and Dad… they still think we’re camping. I need to tell them what’s happened.”

“Don’t worry,” the nurse offered. “We can call them for you.”

“Thank you…” Nathan found himself sighing, relieved at not having to make the dreaded phone call himself. Having to explain what had happened to Peter when he was supposed to take care of the boy… Peter had been his responsibility, and he had failed both his brother and his parents.

The nurse went away to make the call after Nathan supplied her with the number to his parents, and then doggedly endured the rather painful wrapping of his ribcage.

“It’s just to keep the bones in place, Mr. Petrelli,” Ryder patiently explained upon seeing Nathan grimace. “You were lucky not to have any internal bleedings. You were beaten up pretty bad.”

“It’s nothing compared to what they did to my brother…”

The mask of professionalism fell from Ryder’s face for a brief moment, and he actually looked genuinely compassionate. “Yes, of course.”

Following the binding of his ribs and a dosage of pain medication, Nathan was allowed to grab something to drink. The coffee he sipped was bitter, but it was something. He did not want to fall asleep in case something happened to Peter.

As he stood contemplating when he would be allowed to visit is poor brother, he noticed a familiar silhouette at the end of a hallway. Two police officers were headed in his direction and looking right at him.

I killed them, he instantly thought. What if the police would take him away? If so, what would happen to Peter? Was the lawyer going to be accused of murder? Even worse, would they suspect him of not only the deaths of the crazed family, but of the harming of his own brother?

“Nathan Petrelli?”

His train of thought was finally interrupted by the voice of one of the officers. One was taller than the other, but their uniforms and shaved heads made them look otherwise the same in Nathan’s dazed vision.

“Yes?” he finally responded.

“We’ve been informed that you and your brother were involved in some sort of incident out past the freeway, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Nathan replied hoarsely. His throat had not yet fully recuperated after he was almost strangled by Amos and later Jeff less than a day ago. “We… we were kidnapped… by this family… Our car broke down, and they took us to this house out on the sticks, and…-”

“Now slow down, Mr. Petrelli,” the taller police officer broke in. “You’re saying you were kidnapped? By whom?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” the young lawyer snapped in frustration. He was well aware that his story might not be the most coherent, and that the officers were just doing their job, but he could not help it. Being forced to remember all that had been done to him and his baby brother made his blood practically boil.

“There was this family of crazies out in the woods. One of them managed a gas station… His name was Jeff. There were four others. They brought us to their home and…” Nathan had to take a deep breath when he realized he was probably babbling.

“Jeff what?” the shorter, slightly older policeman asked, scribbling down something into a notebook.

“I don’t know! He never told us his last name, or even if he had one! All I know is that this guy and his family were deranged, sadistic bastards who forced me to watch as they repeatedly raped and tortured my little brother in front of me. I don’t know the address to their place or their fucking zip code, but I know that they’re dead now and unable to harm anyone else, and that my brother’s fighting for his life right at this moment.”

“We’re aware of your brother’s condition, Mr. Petrelli,” the taller cop said. His voice remained neutral. “It is obvious that he was sexually assaulted.”

“They almost raped him to death…” Nathan murmured, more to himself than the two policemen questioning him.

“What about you? Were you sexually assaulted as well?”

“Yes,” Nathan automatically answered, though he knew in comparison to Peter’s injuries, he had sustained little damage. “I kept telling them, ‘take me, take me instead, don’t hurt him.’ They made me suck them off…”

The officer taking notes glanced at him. “Nothing else?”

“I wish I could have taken most of the abuse!” The young man snapped, frustrated. “I wish they had preferred to hurt me. But they wanted him instead.”

The fear of being accused of hurting his own little brother made Nathan’s heart hurt. His eyes misted with the threat of tears.

“And it’s all my fault. When they raped him, he said, ‘I want my brother’. I was supposed to protect him, and I couldn’t fight them off.”

“Mr. Petrelli, calm down,” the other officer said. “We’re just taking down your statement. We have no idea what’s happened to you and your brother. Now we’re sending some officers to the area to investigate at this moment.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Nothing yet. You’re still hurt and need to stay here anyway, so we’ll keep an eye on you until we know what’s going on.”

Nathan nodded resentfully. “Of course.” He hoped the sarcasm in his voice went undetected.

After the two officers left, Nathan sunk back into his uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, exhausted, but at the same time afraid of falling asleep. His rational mind kept telling him that if there was any change in Peter’s conditions, the doctors would inform him immediately, whether he was asleep or not. However, another, more superstitious part had him convinced that falling asleep was the same as abandoning Peter, and that his brother would die unless he stayed alert and focused.

After some time had passed – minutes, hours; Nathan did not know – he was approached by Ryder again, and the doctor regarded him with concern.

“We have alerted your parents of the situation,” he said. “They’re taking the next flight over here. In the meantime, you should get some rest, Mr. Petrelli. We could give you a room at the patient hotel. No charge.”

“How is Peter?” Nathan simply asked, ignoring the offer. If lying down in an actual bed of any kind, he would no longer be able to fight his body’s increasing need of sleep.

“Still at the ICU. Rest assured, Mr. Petrelli, you will be the first to know if anything changes.”

“When can I see him?”

“When we’re sure he’s out of danger.”

“And how long can that take?” Nathan asked, refusing to back down.

“It’s up to him,” Ryder answered, showing the utmost patience. He must have dealt with such questions as a doctor for years.

“Well…” Nathan hesitated. “What if… I know you usually say no, but…I just want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, it’s better if you wait.”

“Please,” Nathan put a hand on Ryder’s arm. “Please, I wasn’t able to save him from what he went through…”

“We all feel guilt in times like this, Mr. Petrelli. He’s in good hands now.”

“I know, but…” Nathan felt uncomfortable showing such vulnerability, but at this point he hardly cared. “If something happens… I just want to see him one more time before… in case he can’t pull through. I just want to tell him I love him.”

Ryder looked hesitant, even though he was visibly moved by the lawyer’s plea. “This is against protocols…”

“Please,” Nathan broke in, ready to practically kneel before the doctor and kiss his shoes. “Please let me see my brother?”

“He’s unconscious right now, so he won’t be able to know you’re there.”

“You don’t know that. He might still hear me.”

Ryder let out a long sigh, but Nathan recognized the signs; the physician was giving in. He felt triumphant; not over his victory itself but the fact that he might be allowed to see his brother, after all.

“Alright, Mr. Petrelli, I’ll talk to doctor Hagerstrom, the attending over at the ICU, and leave it up to him. We don’t normally do this, but this is an extreme situation and I suppose we could bend the rules a little.”

“Thank you…” Nathan whispered, almost fidgeting with nervousness.

Ryder went off to make the call, and Nathan could only hope that he would return with some good news.

*

“For God’s sake, hurry!” Arthur roared down the hallway at his wife. “Don’t waste time, just grab some of his clothes!”

Angela Petrelli’s hands shook only for a moment when her thoughts lingered on the very notion of what her sons had endured, but years of dealing with all manner of emergencies helped her to easily push aside the fears. Already she had a luggage bag half full of clothes and essentials for Nathan, and now she was in Peter’s room to find more of the same.

Peter’s room was in disarray from his disorganized hurry to pack for the camping trip. Clothes had been thrown in random places, but a few still remained unfolded on her youngest son’s carpeted floor. Grabbing them, she placed the articles into the bag, nearly tripping as she rushed to find his hairbrush.

During the search, Angela knocked into the bed, her foot catching on something underneath. As she looked down at what had fallen, she noticed a very peculiar image before she could even decipher the picture was on a magazine.

Bending down to have a closer look, Angela soon realized what Peter had been hiding under his bed. In fact, there was a whole pile of them, and by tripping, she had tipped said pile, and the magazines were now spilling out over the floor. She picked up one issue and quickly browsed through it – this particular one was called ‘Playguy’ – and the images within only confirmed her suspicions.

Peter was hiding gay porn under his bed. Among the magazines in the pile, there was not a single one that featured women, so it was pointless dismissing her son’s interest in men as mere curiosity. Peter obviously preferred his own sex, and suddenly it was clear as day why none of her younger son’s ‘girlfriends’ had ever stayed the night. Peter clearly had no interest in any intimate contact with the opposite sex. She looked through another magazine and could even distinguish that Peter had a taste for a certain type of men; burly, muscular studs with a great deal of body hair.

Angela realized she had lost track of time when her husband suddenly burst into the room, his face red from exertion and distress. She wondered if Arthur had forgotten to take his blood pressure medication again.

“Didn’t I say hurry?!” he shouted at her and approached his wife with huge steps, regardless of the mess in Peter’s room.

Angela only remembered she was still holding the gay porn magazine when Arthur looked over her shoulder and suddenly tore it from her hands.

“What the hell is this?!”

*

Nathan instantly looked up when a pair of feet stopped in front of him. Doctor Ryder was standing before him with a reassuring smile on his face that instantly made the lawyer rise from his seat.

“I’ve talked with Doctor Hagerstrom. He’s given the ‘all clear’,” the doctor said. “Come with me.”

Following Ryder down the hallway and through a set of doors, Nathan was met by a large elevator. When they entered, the doctor pressed a button for the next floor up. Though the trip to the next floor took only thirty seconds, Nathan’s impatience and worry made a lifetime pass in his mind. How would Peter look beyond the doors which would lead to where he lay? Would he live from his injuries, and if so, what would be left of his body and mind?

Nathan’s fear grew by each passing second as he followed Ryder through the long hallway leading to the intensive care unit. Peter had been hospitalized once before when he was six, and though over a decade had passed since the event, Nathan remembered it as though it happened yesterday. Peter had tried to climb a tree, fallen down, and broken his left forearm. It had been an open fracture, and the doctors insisted that he stay at the hospital overnight.

It had been awful for Nathan to leave his terrified, weeping baby brother all alone once the visiting hours ended, and he still had the image of Peter trembling in a far too large hospital bed imprinted on his retina.

Doctor Hagerstrom, the attending specialist, met them in person when they entered. Hagerstrom was tall, thin, and bald, and through his thick glasses, his eyes looked almost frighteningly large.

“This way, Mr. Petrelli,” he said and gestured at the lawyer to follow.

Peter had been placed in a single room with the number 9. Ryder and Hagerstrom stood by as Nathan opened the door and saw his baby brother for the first time since their arrival at the hospital more than twelve hours ago.

Breath bated, he slowly walked toward the small body within the large bed, and for a moment he once again was looking at the little boy who did not want to stay in the hospital for one night just because of a broken arm. When he finally reached his brother’s bedside, he gently clasped Peter’s hand, knelt down and gave a sob which produced no tears. He was relieved that he was even looking at the living body of his brother now, even if he was still unconscious.

What areas of Peter’s skin which were not covered in bandages were instead covered in bruises. His thin form was attached to various forms of machinery which steadily buzzed, beeped and pumped to keep him alive. A pair of black and blue legs were propped up by cold metal stirrups.

“Why are his legs up?” Nathan asked, feeling stupid in his exhaustion.

“His rectum is partially prolapsed from the abuse,” Doctor Hagerstrom answered. “We can’t operate on it now until we know he’s out of danger. Otherwise he might not survive the anesthesia.”

“So how long does he have to stay like that?” Nathan asked, realizing he sounded almost accusatory. Just having to watch his brother with his legs forcibly parted brought back painful memories from their time in captivity.

“It aids the healing process and makes sure there is no additional damage,” Hagerstrom explained patiently. “Your brother came in severely dehydrated and with septicemia. That’s blood poisoning in common tongue,” he added when Nathan raised a questioning eyebrow. “He was very near death. Until his body has regained some strength and defeated the infection, surgery would not be a safe option.”

“But…” Nathan wanted to object but knew that it would be futile, not to mention ridiculous. A nagging feeling in the back of his head told him that Peter’s rectum would remain permanently damaged unless it was immediately operated on.

“Mr. Petrelli, we’re doing the best we can for your brother,” Hagerstrom said. “Please, trust us on this.”

The inevitable question still lingered. “Will he…. I mean, will he be able to function properly after this? With stool, and so on?”

“Apart from some scar tissue, he should heal up just fine. I’ve seen worse cases of prolapsed rectums. Mostly in older people, though…”

Nathan cleared his throat. “What about sex?” he asked.

The ICU physician gazed at him dumbly. “Excuse me?”


“My brother is gay. If he ever wants to engage in anal intercourse… will he be able to?”


“Well…” Hagerstrom said, perplexed at the question. “Yes, but he will need time for the scar tissue to become strong…”

Hand to his eyes, Nathan realized the awkward nature of the question.

“I’m sorry… he confided in me when those monsters kept us locked up. He thought he was going to die, so he told me about his secret. He thought I would hate him for being what he was. God, Peter…”

His words became directed at his brother, though the boy possibly could not hear him. “How could I hate you? We were supposed to go camping and tell mom and dad about you together. That’s what was gonna happen… not this.”

“He needs time to heal, Mr. Petrelli,” Ryder stated. “And so do you.”

Slowly turning to look at the two uncomfortable physicians, Nathan eventually nodded and glanced back at his unconscious brother. As a last minute decision, he gave Peter’s head a soft kiss.

“I love you, buddy. See you later.”


TBC...