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Brother's Keeper	By : Bloodylocks Category: G through L > Heroes Views: 3679 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or the characters, and no financial gain is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Brother's Keeper
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Chapter 7
- 8-Chapter 8
- 9-Chapter 9
- 10-Chapter 10
- 11-Chapter 11
- 12-Ch 12
- 13-Ch 13
- 14-Ch 14
- 15-Ch 15
- 16-Ch 16
- 17-Ch 17
- 18-Ch 18
- 19-Ch 19
- 20-Ch 20
- 21-Ch 21
- 22-Ch 22
- 23-Ch 23
- 24-Ch 24
- 25-Ch 25
- 26-Ch 26
- 27-Ch 27
- 28-Ch 28
- 29-Ch 29
- 30-Ch 30
- 31-Ch 31
- 25
- 26
- 27
Chapter 26

Life for the two brothers went back to what slightly might resemble normalcy once Peter's gonorrhea infection cleared up and it was confirmed that Nathan had managed to avoid the infection altogether.
The lawyer tried not to think or plan too much ahead, never knowing if Peter's mental condition would take a turn for the better or worse. He had received several impatient phone calls from work, the latest from the DA himself, imploring the lawyer to return to his office as soon as possible. Nathan had given him a fleeting answer, not making any promises. Maybe if everything went well, he might consider taking up part time service after Christmas... but that all depended on how Peter was feeling.
Despite being pleased at all the time his brother spent with him, Peter felt shame at being what he thought was a burden. Nathan was known for his success and diligence, but now he was demoted to wet nurse. Sometimes Nathan found his little brother looking ready to break down in tears, and yet Peter would try his hardest to pretend nothing was bothering him.
"Talking will make things better," the older man insisted. "How can we get anywhere if one of us won't talk?"
"It's just..." Peter muttered, "you had a job before all of this happened. You had respect, and all of these people relied on you."
"Right now, you're my main priority," Nathan replied, ruffling his little brother's hair. "Things will get better. You'll see."
Peter nodded quietly, giving a timid smile.
Even though he tried not to, Nathan couldn't help counting the days left till Christmas, his mood sinking further and further down by each passing week. Eight weeks left, then seven... now less than seven.
This particular morning Nathan had gotten up early, as he always did, and spent the first half hour working out and running on the treadmill. He could barely hear the doorbell over the buzzing of the machine and the constant flap of his tennis shoes, but once he was sure someone was indeed at the door, the turned off the treadmill and sighed, heading to see who could possibly want something at this hour. Aware of his sweaty, disheveled appearance and current body odor, he could only hope his visitor would not be too bothered by it.
Looking through the peephole, he sighed, uncertain of how the following visit would turn out. He opened the door, using the towel in his hand to dry the beads of sweat from his forehead.
"Hi, Mom."
"Interrupted your schedule, have I?" Angela Petrelli asked as she entered the apartment. Her tone was not good-humored, but neither was it meanly sarcastic.
"You want some tea?" Nathan offered as he followed her into the kitchen. "Coffee?"
"Nothing, thank you," she said with a small, dismissive wave. "I came to ask of your plans regarding Thanksgiving."
"You mean you came to invite us for dinner on Thanksgiving," Nathan said. He had been expecting this sort of offer with some trepidation.
Angela flashed her older son a dry smile. "It is tradition, isn't it? I am quite used to having both my boys home for Thanksgiving, and I won't have it any other way this year."
Nathan sighed, knowing his mother would not give up easily. "I know, Mom, but things have changed a bit since last year."
The woman pretended not to have heard. "Where is Peter?" she asked.
"Still sleeping. Mom, I'll think it over, I promise, but I have to see what my brother..."
"I'll make sure Arthur behaves," Angela said gravely. "He wouldn't dare... not on Thanksgiving. We're still a family, Nathan."
The lawyer couldn't help but snort. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Don't worry, dear. I'm not going to forget any time soon how he's treated Peter."
Nathan lifted an eyebrow. "Neither am I."
The look they gave one another was an unspoken vow. Nathan was determined to defend his little brother by any means necessary, and Angela was well aware of it.
"Where is Peter now?" the woman inquired. "Sleeping, I suppose?"
"Yes, he gets up a little later."
Angela immediately straightened and strode to the set of bedroom doors. Realizing her intent, Nathan was quick to follow.
"This one is the guest bedroom, isn't it?" she asked.
"Ma, that's not necessary," Nathan said with some alarm in his voice. "I can tell him when he wakes up."
"Oh, I intend to see my youngest on this visit anyway..." she quickly knocked on the door, her eldest son still objecting.
"Peter? Peter, it's Ma," Angela called out and rapped her knuckles against the door wood once more. There was no response, and the woman frowned to express her dislike. "Are you sure he's sleeping, Nathan?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Nathan hissed back at her. "You can't just barge right into his room. And keep your voice down, you'll wake him up!"
Without looking at her son, Angela said, "That is my intent." Then, "Peter, I'm coming in," and before Nathan could stop her, she had already twisted the door knob and pushed open the door to what she assumed was Peter's room. Only the room was empty, and though she recognized several of Peter's possessions amongst the interior decoration, the bed looked like it hadn't been slept in for ages. Angela Petrelli's eyes narrowed at the sight and for a moment, she was completely clueless.
In the room, dark from lack of light, she could not see the red in her son's face, and so he quickly tried to regain his self composure, clearing his throat. "He hasn't slept here for a long time," he added awkwardly.
"Clearly," Angela replied.
A muffled sound came from next door, which soon repeated itself. Peter's voice. "Nathan?" the boy called out.
"I'm here, buddy," Nathan answered.
Peter must have heard another voice, or realized his brother was talking to someone, for he came out of the adjacent bedroom wearing a pair of boxer shorts. Yawning, he looked around warily, unknowing of the guest.
�Good morning, Peter,� Angela spoke up, and Peter�s face instantly brightened up at the sound of his mother�s voice.
�Ma! It�s so good to see you!� He rushed over to give the woman a hug and a kiss, unaware of the concerned scowl on her face.
Nathan, still blushing, stood by silent as his mother and younger brother embraced each other and exchanged platitudes.
�If I�d known you�d come, I�d have gotten up earlier... Peter said regretfully, sad at how little time he got to spend with his mother nowadays. Visits at the Petrelli mansion were out of question, of course, and Angela�s dropping by to see her sons was restricted to once every two or three weeks.
Nathan inwardly sighed when his mother shot him a knowing glance, indicating she wanted to talk with him in private, without Peter listening.
�Hey bud, why don�t you go get dressed and brush your teeth, and I�ll make you some breakfast in the meantime. Okay?�
Peter nodded, and once he had returned into the bedroom to find some clothes, Nathan subtly followed Angela into the kitchen.
�Clearly�� Angela punctuated. �He hasn�t been sleeping in the guest bedroom.�
�I don�t wanna hear it, Ma,� Nathan cut her off, placing some bread into the toaster and opening the cabinet overhead. �I know what I�m doing.�
�I suppose this is all part of your way of therapy.�
Pursing his lips, Nathan kept his back turned, occupying himself with making breakfast. �He kept having nightmares. He couldn�t sleep, so I couldn�t sleep. Now the nightmares are gone since he changed rooms.�
�Perhaps then he would be comfortable sleeping on his own again,� Angela said coolly, not bothering to take a seat.
�He�s comfortable in my room.�
�In your bed?�
Nathan finally turned his head to regard the woman. His eyes were a mix of hurt and annoyance. �What kind of question is that? You remember what the doctor said about his behavior. And you should be able to remember how he was when he was little. He slept in my room all the time.�
�Yes, he did,� Angela admitted. �Whenever he had a nightmare, he would go to you, his big brother. He thought you could protect him from everything.� A small, inward smile had appeared on her lips, and Nathan even caught a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, though, and was replaced by her previous hard stare. �But he�s not little anymore.�
�His mind is,� Nathan retorted. �Don�t you think I wish it weren�t so? But we�ve got a situation here, and I�m trying to deal with it.�
�Keep your voice down, Nathan. Even if Peter�s regressed, he can still hear.�
The slices of bread popped out of the toaster, and Nathan threw them onto a plate with quick, jerky movements. �Peter wants to stay with me,� he said, this time in a lower tone. �It�s the only way for him to feel safe.�
Angela merely snorted. �Nathan, if Peter got his wish, you two would be joined at the hip.�
Nathan clenched his jaw to prevent himself from shouting at the woman. For Peter�s sake, he thought. Hearing his mother and big brother fight would only upset the poor boy. �That was crude, Ma.�
�I�m sorry. But I�m sure you see my point.� She was, of course, aware of the profound and downright frightening intimacy her two boys shared, and another thought, one that made Angela�s heart speed up from shock, suddenly occurred. �Nathan... aren�t you afraid your brother might... develop a sexual attraction to you?�
The butter knife Nathan picked up to use on the toast slipped from his hand and bounced off of the counter, clattering loudly to the floor. The two both went silent, listening for any change of Peter�s movement in the other rooms. There was none, and Nathan picked up the knife, replacing it with a clean one. The dull blade sunk into the container of butter and stayed there.
�How could you say that?� the lawyer demanded, desperate to hold back the quiver in his voice. �How could you even think it?!�
Angela remained calm, though she knew she was raising Nathan�s temper to a risky level. �Relax, Nathan, I�m only trying to think through the trauma he experienced. He�s revealed his sexuality, and combined with the damage done, he might get confused��
�That�s SICK,� Nathan snapped, his low voice an angry hiss. �Just because he�s gay, you think he�d do that? How DARE you?�
�I wasn�t trying to insinuate anything...�
�Then what were you doing?� Nathan spun around, his face practically a storm cloud. �You practically accused me of committing incest with my baby brother!�
�I did no such thing,� Angela snapped back. �I just wanted you to be aware of the possibility...�
�Yes, he sleeps in my bed. And sometimes in my arms. But you don�t think I�d... to Peter...?�
Angela lowered her eyes, admitting defeat. Perhaps her fears were indeed unjustified? Sexual attraction to a member of one�s immediate family was a rare, if not pathological occurrence.
�I am sorry, Nathan, and no, of course not. I know you�d never... touch Peter. It�s just that... you�ve always been the most important person in his life. After what happened last summer, you�ve become his whole world. And regardless of his childish mind, he�s still a teenager with raging hormones. And since you�re the only one around him...�
Nathan�s lips formed a thin, taut line before his face went coldly lax with a small sigh. �I was about to escort you to the door. But Peter loves your visits. If you want to spend more time with him, I�d advise you keep mum on the subject of where he sleeps.�
Angela�s eyes were sincere and even though she did not need to say it, she did: �I know.�
Both heard Peter�s approach and Nathan proceeded to place a bowl full of still dry cereal on the table, as well as the toast and a glass of juice.
�I coulda done that myself, Nate,� Peter stated as though he wanted to show how independent he was in front of his mother.
�Well now you don�t have to,� Nathan replied with a well practiced smile, as though nothing had happened.
�Darling,� Angela addressed her youngest son, swift to distract the boy from any thoughts of the rash conversation moments before, �I�ve come to invite you and your brother to dinner for Thanksgiving.�
Peter anxiously chewed on his lip as he sat down at the table and carefully poured milk into his bowl of cereal. The idea of spending an entire evening in his father�s company was not appealing in the least. He could remember looking forward to holidays as a kid not only because of presents and food, but mainly because Nathan was going to spend time home with him. Now, however, things had changed quite a bit.
�I don�t think that�s a good idea,� Nathan finally said, having noticed his brother�s reaction. �Neither of us wishes to see him.�
Peter knew who his brother spoke of, and so did Angela. Lifting an eyebrow at her eldest son, she turned her gaze to the boy. Peter swirled his cereal in the bowl, trying to take more spoonfuls of it into his mouth. Unfortunately, his appetite was beginning to wane.
�How about it, Peter?� he heard his mother ask.
Peter swallowed, despite no longer eating. Part of him hoped he could stall for time until Nathan would save him from having to answer. Unfortunately, Nathan remained silent.
�I�� Peter hesitated. Doctor Stockwell had urged him to be truthful in any situation, because it would help his healing process if he communicated. �I�m not sure. Dad will be there�?�
Expression unchanging, Angela did not even nod. �Yes, dear.�
Peter kept his gaze lowered to his bowl. The cereal was getting soggy and he stuffed another spoonful into his mouth, though its soaked nature felt disgusting. �I liked visiting until�� he faltered in his speech and seconds later answered with as much resolve as possible, which was not much. �I don�t want to.� Peter stifled a sob. �I�m sorry, Ma...�
�You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter,� Nathan broke in. �He doesn�t deserve to see you.�
�I ask only that you give it some thought,� Angela said next, voice still neutral. �I�ll talk to your father. Surely he, as well as I, would be willing to overlook certain... differences to have our family together for Thanksgiving.�
Peter, still stirring his bowl of soggy cereal, did not reply or even look up. His long hair served as a curtain to hide him from the world, and he didn�t mind the slightest.
�Peter,� Angela said, changing cues. �You need a haircut. When was the last time you had one?�
�Ma...� Peter murmured, noticeably troubled.
�Nathan, you have to make sure your brother gets a haircut. I can�t even see his face anymore!� The woman reached across the table for her son�s head and moved to brush the curtain of thick, black hair from Peter�s face.
As though he could see her from behind the thick drape of hair, Peter instantly sat upright, dodging the hand. �I like it this way!� he snapped, not meaning to sound as mean as he did. �I want my hair long.�
�Peter,� Angela responded, her tone reprimanding. Peter wished he had more space to move to, but he was only sitting on a chair, and had nowhere to go. Had he made his mother angry?
�She just wants to see your face, bud,� Nathan reassured his brother, careful not to exacerbate the situation. �She likes to be able to see you.�
�I don�t,� a small voice finally said behind the hair.
�Don�t be silly, Peter,� Angela said, attempting to provide comfort, although Nathan was a far better judge than she of what caused which emotion in the fragile young man. �We love you, and we love to be able to see you when we talk.�
Peter regretted saying it even before it fully exited his mouth. �Why?�
�Peter, you look like a bum,� Angela said disapprovingly. �If you really insist on keeping your hair long, at least wash it more often. Or put it in a ponytail.�
�Mom, that�s enough!� Nathan brusquely interrupted. �You know full well why Peter doesn�t want to cut his hair. Don�t be such a bitch about it.�
As if to prove the lawyer�s statement, Peter�s right hand had absently travelled up to cover his right ear, even though his hair already had it taken care of.
There was an audible sigh from Angela, and Nathan briefly felt like strangling her for how disappointed she sounded. He kissed the top of Peter�s dark head. �Hey bud, you don�t have to eat anymore cereal. Go on and have a Twinkie and go read your new comic books. I�d like to have a moment alone with Ma, okay?�
�Okay...� the boy said with little enthusiasm, but he complied with his brother�s wish and left Nathan alone with their mother.
The lawyer shook his head. �Listen, Ma... I know you think you�re trying to help... Don�t.�
�You�re keeping him a child, Nathan,� Angela argued. �How is he ever going to recover when you treat him as though he�s made of glass?�
�He is a child. I must let him do things in his own pace. He�s not ready to face the world yet.�
�Do you still bathe him?�
�What difference does that make?� Nathan automatically demanded. �Yes, I help him bathe, but he can do much of it himself.�
�Can he?� Angela inquired, not believing her son for a moment.
�Yes, he can,� Nathan replied, though he knew he was lying. Only last night they once again shared a shower, and Peter had been granted a scrub for most of his body by the older man. �He needs it,� the lawyer insisted. �He needs me to help him this way.�
�Really,� his mother replied. �Are you sure it not a matter of his needs but your own?�
Frowning, Nathan had to rethink what he had just heard. �What do you mean?� he asked. �I do everything for him. FOR HIM. And I�ll continue to do whatever I can.�
�Nathan�� Angela said, her tone familiar. She knew her boys too well and at present time she knew Nathan perfectly. �I remember how you were at the hospital. How heartbroken you were over the danger your brother was in.�
�And he is never going to be that way again,� the man interrupted. �Ever.�
�And yet you still believe you never needed healing of your own,� Angela stood up, approaching her son. �Seeing Peter as he was� and how he was treated� I think it affected you too, darling. You want to keep him safe, even if it means that he never grows up to deal with these demons on his own.�
�I should�ve been able to protect him,� Nathan murmured. �I was responsible for him, and I let all those terrible things happen to him. It�s all my fault.�
�Blaming yourself will get you nowhere,� Angela said matter-of-factly. �I�m merely asking you to be realistic about Peter�s recovery. You can�t be his wet nurse for the rest of your lives.�
Nathan pretended not to have heard the demeaning word his mother used to describe his relationship with his brother. �When Peter was dying, I made a promise,� he said. �I promised I would do anything in exchange for my brother�s life. I don�t expect you to understand, but I�m serious. If it means caring for him for the rest of my life, so be it.�
A sad look appeared in his mother�s eyes, but it was gone within seconds. �Please think about the visit,� she said. �I�d miss you both. It�s going to be very lonely on Thanksgiving.�
�We�ll talk about it,� Nathan said, though his heart was not in the response.
Angela called her youngest son out from hiding and the two gave one another a kiss and a hug before she finally departed. As Nathan closed and locked the door, Peter walked off to the living room and turned on the television. Reclining on his stomach on the sofa, he flipped through the channels.
Nathan watched him from afar, their mother�s words still burning in his mind. He had made that promise and kept by it, but now he was affected by doubt. Was he really keeping his little brother in the paralytic state the boy was presently in?
�Peter,� he addressed the boy, entering the room and taking a seat on an adjacent chair. �I�m not hurting you, am I?�
A confused frown appeared on the young man�s face. �Of course not, Nathan. You�ve never hurt me.�
�I just... I don�t know. I want to think I�m doing what�s best for you, but I�m not sure anymore.�
Peter�s look of confusion was replaced by anxiety. �What are you talking about?� His voice was weak. �Will you... send me away?�
�No! God, no, Pete! You really needn�t worry about that, sweetheart. I just want to know if there�s anything I could do differently.�
�I�m sorry I�m like this...� Peter said with a sniffle. �I�m ruining your life, aren�t I, Nathan? You can�t do any of the things you used to anymore, because of me...�
Before the older man could respond, fat tears were already trickling down his little brother�s cheeks, and Peter once more looked beyond miserable.
�Baby�� Nathan whispered, taking the shaking little figure into his arms and squeezing tightly. �Baby� you could never ruin my life. My life is a better place with you in it. Do you remember what I said? We need to be patient with each other.�
�But��
Nathan took the weeping face in his hands and looked into the big innocent eyes that caused him heartbreak whenever they showed sadness. �Where we are right now� it�s not your fault. What happened to us affected us both. I just was too stubborn to admit it.�
Peter looked down again, but instead of hiding his face, he leant into his big brother�s front, taking in the warmth and sense of safety there. It felt good to be so close, to be against that solid flesh and familiar scent. Being with Nathan felt like being home.
�I should be the one to apologize, Peter,� Nathan said, rubbing his little brother�s back and feeling the tight muscles there go lax, �We�ve gotten help for you� but I didn�t want to accept that I need help too.�
�What did you and Ma talk about?� Peter asked, sounding fearful again. �Did she want to send me away?�
�No, of course not,� Nathan replied. �But she did say she thinks I�m treating you like too much of a baby. I told her I must let you do things in your own pace, and our discussion got a little heated. Don�t worry about it, sweetheart. Mom was criticizing me, not you.�
�I wish I could do more things by myself,� Peter said with a shaky sigh. �I really do.�
�I know, bud. Don�t feel the need to rush things.�
Peter took a deep breath, exhaling against Nathan�s shirtfront. �I... I think we should go home for Thanksgiving,� he said.
Nathan hesitated, thinking through the possibility of what a visit might bring, and carefully he pulled his brother away to once again look him in the eyes. �Peter� are you sure?�
Peter looked aside in thought for a few seconds, but finally nodded. �I wanna show that I can do things by myself.�
�Sweetie,� Nathan replied, smiling. �If you feel this is right, then I�ll help you all the way. Just remember that you�re not being forced into anything you don�t want to do.�
�I know,� Peter said, returning to the spot on Nathan�s front that he enjoyed so deeply. �I really miss Mom. It�ll be nice to see her on Thanksgiving. And you do want me to eat more.�
�I could always make a Thanksgiving dinner,� the lawyer offered.
�No you couldn�t,� Peter said with a mischievous giggle.
�Aww, I�m hurt!� Nathan grinned. �Are you saying my cooking sucks, you little brat?�
Before Peter could respond to his brother�s accusation, the hand that had previously been resting on his shoulder was jammed into his armpit, and Nathan�s strong, tickling fingers forced him into a prone position on the couch within seconds.
Howling with laughter, Peter tried to defend himself or at least get out of the bigger man�s grasp, even though he knew he would not be released until Nathan decided to have mercy on him.
�Still think I�m a bad cook?� the lawyer challenged, moving his hands from Peter�s armpits to his stomach � another one of his little brother�s highly ticklish zones.
�Well, maybe you went from really craptastic to only a little sucky.�
�Good enough,� Nathan responded, and he gave one last jab to the boy�s underarm before letting him sit up. �God, I love you, Peter.�
�I love you too,� the younger brother replied. The two of them sat on the couch, watching whatever was on the television in contemplative silence until Peter spoke up again.
�I think I wanna try to change the pace.�
�Pardon?� Nathan inquired, confused.
�I want to try doing more things myself.�
�Such as�?�
�Maybe I could try to sleep by myself�?�
Nathan gave a slightly exaggerated gasp. �This can�t be MY Pete!� he exclaimed.
�Shut up...� the boy muttered, feigning offense. �I really think I could do it.�
�You don�t have to try to prove anything, bud,� Nathan said. �Sleeping with me doesn�t make you any less brave.�
�I must try it again sometime,� Peter argued. �And I haven�t had any nightmare in weeks. It could work.�
Nathan�s visage went from doubtful to thoughtful. His little brother actually sounded like he was serious about this, and if he was, Nathan had no choice but to encourage him. He turned off the TV and grasped the boy by the shoulders, gazing deep into Peter�s hazel eyes, almost identical to his own.
�You really sure, buddy?�
Peter nodded. �As long as I�ve got Trixie,� he said with a cautious little smile.
Nathan could not help but laugh. �You�re cute.�

TBC...
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Brother's Keeper