Family Emergency

Nathan visited his brother again a week later to see how he was doing. He had entered the apartment early in the morning - plenty of time before he had to be at work - and was not surprised to see Peter still in bed, fast asleep. The discomfited young man's need for rest would only get worse.

For a few minutes Nathan simply watched Peter sleep, enjoying the way the morning light sifted through the blinds and landed on his skin. Eventually, the older man walked over to the bedside, taking a seat next to the nurse. Peter did not stir until he felt fingers playing with his hair and caressing his face.

"Morning, lazy."

Rolling his eyes, Peter turned over, back facing his big brother. "I'm sleeping."

"Were sleeping," Nathan corrected, watching the tired young man sit up and get out of bed. "I came to see you before I had to get to the office.”

"Didn't miss much. Just more of what you've seen so far," the younger Petrelli brother stated, reaching for some clothes.

Indeed Peter's stomach seemed to have grown bigger since Nathan last saw him, but it had only been a week and his eyes could be playing tricks on him. "Are you going to work today?" he asked while Peter slowly got dressed with little enthusiasm.

"I have the evening shift today..." the younger brother murmured, pulling a large hooded sweater over his head. It helped conceal the bulge at his middle fairly well - so far. Nathan wondered, with both curiosity and dread, how Peter would look five months from now.

"Has anyone been asking about that?" Nathan inquired, pointing at the bump.

The look on the younger man's face was one of someone who did not need to be reminded. Exhaling in defeat, Peter stepped into a pair of trousers.

"Some asked if I had started drinking. A few of us were joking around about supplies the other day and poking fun at each other and then one of the girls patted my stomach and said I had stolen the supplies and put them in there."

Nathan tried not to even smile in case his brother turned to look at him. "That was a bit harsh," he said in his most serious voice, hoping it would not sound mocking.

"No, really?" Peter retorted, pulling the pants up and glancing at the unfastened button and zipper. Even from his brother's view, the sight was obvious that the pants would never fit. Peter fell backwards onto the mattress anyway and sucked in his gut as far as he could, hands ready on the zip. Breath held, he just barely managed to pull the zipper up completely. A loud crack sounded when the back seam of the trousers split, and despite his usually impassive composure, Nathan could not help himself this time and burst out in wild, uncontrolled laughter. Peter flew at him like a rabid animal, crying out obscenities and hitting him with the palms of his hands.

"You cruel fuckin' bastard, that's not funny, you asshole! Shut up! Shut the fuck up, or I swear to God I'll tear that grin right off your face!"

Despite the blows hailing over him, Nathan had trouble stopping the laughter from bubbling up. One of Peter's hands impacted with his nose, which hurt a great deal and finally made him regain control of himself. Grabbing his brother's wrists, he spun them around and pressed Peter up against a wall, easily restraining him. Face a wild shade of scarlet, Peter shouted and writhed under his hold, but he was going nowhere. His stomach being the furthest thing out, it was pressed uncomfortably against the wall and the young nurse's squirming hardly improved the feeling.

"GET OFF ME!"

"No. Now calm down and let me help"--

"You're hurting me!"

"I'm not convinced." Brow knit in serious contemplation, Nathan pressed his brother harder against the wall and tugged on the more than snug pair of trousers. Ripping was heard as he struggled to remove them.

"Good God, Pete!" he exclaimed as his brother was finally released. "It's a wonder you haven't lost the circulation in your legs!"

Arms crossed and expression angry, Peter leant against the wall and looked down at his bare skin. Even from his somewhat disadvantaged angle, he could see bright red welts where the tight fit of his trousers were working their way into his flesh.

"Great, thanks!" he growled, gazing down at the pile of fabric around his ankles that used to be a well-liked pair of trousers. "You just wrecked pants that cost me 70 dollars!"

"No, you did that yourself," Nathan replied curtly. "And you hurt ME, Peter." His nose was still throbbing with each heartbeat. "I was just trying to keep you from hurting us both."

"You laughed at me!"

Nathan had the decency to actually look slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry I laughed," he said truthfully. "I just couldn't help myself."

"Right..." Peter muttered, stepping out of the ruined pair of pants and seating himself on the bed again.

"Peter... do you have any pants that would actually fit?"

"Why do you care?"

The lawyer sighed. "I don't have to be at the office for another hour and a half. There's plenty of time to do some shopping."

When he got no response, he offered to pay, but Peter only glared.

"I don't need to be provided for."

"Fine, but at least get in the car with me so that we can go find something that'll fit you.

"I have sweatpants, I don't need anything else."

Holding back a groan, his brother said, "Yeah, but how many pairs, and how long will even those fit?"

Stubborn as ever, Peter kept his arms crossed, looking anywhere except into his brother's face.

"I promise it'll make you feel much better to have some stuff that actually fits," Nathan said, and he fished a set of keys from his pocket. The younger brother finally looked up at him, his frown fading only a little.

"You'd better promise," Peter said, finally getting up and slipping on a pair of sweat pants.

Peter wanted to prove that he was still angry by not saying a word to Nathan on their way to the car. He wore a loose jacket over the hoodie, hoping that the two garments would sufficiently hide his delicate condition.

"It's no use moping around, Peter," Nathan said patiently as a still-silently pouting Peter sat down next to him in the front seat. "It's not gonna go away just because you act like a kid." When his brother still said nothing, Nathan simply started the car engine and tore off.

"So, where do you usually buy your clothes?" he asked, suspecting that Peter got a great deal of his wardrobe from second-hand stores.

"The bargain stores," Peter finally replied. Case in point. "Though I haven't had to buy any recently because I've stayed the same shape." The statement was originally meant as blame on Nathan, but as he dwelt on what he had said, Peter realized this event really was his fault. He did not want to admit he needed new clothes and as a result, he had damaged quite a few of them, including that god damned pair of pants that cost him over 70 dollars.

"I wanna try some other places," Nathan announced, pulling into a parking lot near a mall. "Find some things that might last you a bit longer."

Inside the mall, the two brothers saw a large variety of places in which to search for new clothes. Nathan was familiar with the mall layout and in his memory Mimi Maternity appeared. It was located on the second floor. The lawyer briefly wondered if he should sneak away and find some clothes there while Peter was distracted.

The younger Petrelli looked lost in the crowd of people swishing by him left and right, and Nathan was suddenly reminded of an incident that happened over twenty years ago - Peter getting lost in a department store. It was one of few occasions when Nathan had come close to panicking; one second Peter was standing by his side, the next the four-year-old was gone. An employee had found the rosy-cheeked little boy with the large brown eyes only minutes later and made an announcement through the speakers, but those few minutes when he didn't know where Peter was had been like death to Nathan.

Surely Peter was an adult now, but the need to keep track of his baby brother still existed in Nathan. He stepped up alongside Peter and wrapped an arm around the thin, slumped shoulders.

"Don't wander off on me, will ya?" he said affectionately.

Peter tensed under his touch and the older man could tell he was uncomfortable. Not only was he afraid to show any sort of affection out here in the open among countless strangers, but he was painfully self conscious about his appearance.

"I won't," he answered. "Where should we go then?"

"Well, I know you don't want to spend too much money, so let's try down here," Nathan pointed in the direction of Old Navy.

"Don't you mean Big and Tall?" Peter suggested unhappily.

"Not yet," Nathan teased. "Besides, you're not tall."

In the stores, Peter glumly scanned over the various pairs of trousers on the racks, not incredibly enthusiastic. A lot of the pairs which appeared like they would fit around his waist were looking a little too long.

"Hey Pete, how about these?" Nathan suggested, holding out a pair of olive-coloured denim pants with a waist big enough to fit him - at least by the look of it - and with legs that seemed appropriate for his diminutive height.

"How much are they?" Peter asked, his interest peaked.

"$15.35," Nathan replied, reading the label. "Can you afford that?"

"I guess..." Peter muttered. "But I'd better try them on before wasting any money."
He took the pair from Nathan and headed for a fitting room. When shedding his own pants in order to try the new ones on, he noticed that his underwear was leaving red welts in his skin as well. Damn... This meant he'd have to get a new set of boxer shorts as well.
To Peter's delight, the pants fit almost perfectly around the waist and ended conveniently just around his ankles. There was a knock on the fitting room door, and Nathan's voice asking if he could see the result.

Reluctantly Peter pushed the door open, ajar at first to make sure no one else was watching before giving his brother the full view. Quite unexpectedly, Nathan started laughing again.

"I knew it!" Peter snarled. "I didn't come along so you could make fun of me!"

"Peter!" the lawyer giggled. "You're wearing a pair of knickers!"

Peter looked down at his feet again, face red at the thought of how low the hem was supposed to be on his trousers. They were only supposed to reach above his ankles, but due to the size of the waist, they hit the floor. No wonder they fit so amazingly well.

"I should've known," he said, his voice low and tears rolling down his frustrated expression.

"Hey, hey..." Nathan whispered, suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. "Calm down, we'll try another store, buddy. This one really has a limited variety of styles anyway. It's their fault, not yours."

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Peter proceeded to remove the trousers, catching his brother's eye.

"And we'll get you some more shorts while we're at it."

The next store indeed had more styles and fits and Peter tried to get his hopes up, though he did not want to be disappointed once more.

"You keep trying stuff on," Nathan suggested. "I'm gonna look for more clothes." And he walked away, a certain department in the store still lingering in his mind.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise when Nathan returned a few minutes later with a stack of clothing draped over his arm. There were pants, tank tops, shirts... actually some that did not look so hideous based on the design.

"Where did you find those?" Peter asked. "I didn't know they had men's stuff further back."

"Just go try them on and see if any of it fits," Nathan prompted, handing the pile over to his brother.

After another trip to the fitting room area, Peter found out that most of the clothes fit his current physique like a glove. Sadly the clothes were a bit on the expensive side to him; he'd missed quite a few days from work lately and his current salary was barely enough to cover the rent.

"If you don't want to waste too much money, I can pay for some," Nathan said just outside the door of the fitting room. "And don't worry about me paying for everything. You can pay for whatever you want and we'll call the rest of it an early birthday present."

Though he wanted to argue, Peter remained quiet. The clothes actually felt good to wear. Some even had elastic waist bands, which would come in handy in the near future. Meanwhile, Nathan was hoping his brother would accept the clothes offered. He had been very careful in what he found in case the younger man might get wise to his idea. He even made sure none of the maternity jeans he had found had any panels to them, or obvious tags suggesting their use.

"So, little buddy, did they fit you? Have you decided which ones you want?" Nathan asked when Peter finally exited the fitting room, now wearing his old sweatpants again.

Peter shrugged, wanting to appear nonchalant. "They were okay. But I can't buy them all. They're too expensive."

Nathan wanted to groan. "If you feel bad about me providing for you, we can just call it a loan," he suggested. "Pay me back when you're able to. You NEED those clothes."

Peter knew his brother was right, and he didn't want to start another argument in the middle of a store.

"Okay, fine," he said, yielding. "But I'm paying you back. Just remember that."

"Of course you are, Pete." Nathan believed - and actually hoped - that Peter would have forgotten about the "loan" in less than a week.

Thankfully the cashier did not mention anything about the maternity clothes. Nathan's fear would have been that she asked where the lucky mother was who was getting such nice outfits. The drive back was relatively quiet, though not in the case that Peter was angry.

During the drive, the car passed by a Wendy's. Peter suddenly felt the carnal need for a Frosty, but he kept his mouth shut. He did not need to waste the money he had left anyway, and he did not want to have his brother paying further for his indulgences.
His empty stomach, however, had other plans, and gurgled rather loudly.

The gurgling did not pass unnoticed by Nathan, who immediately asked if Peter wanted to stop by for breakfast somewhere.

"No, I can't keep anything down, anyway," the younger man murmured, thinking back to all the times he had thrown up in the past few weeks. Tea and crackers seemed to be the only things he could keep down, and all the nutrition they provided was probably taken by the foetus. No wonder he was exhausted all the time.

"I have to head for the office now," Nathan announced as he stopped outside Peter's apartment building. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay..."

"And eat something. Promise me that."

"Okay..."

Nathan smiled and gave his brother a kiss on the cheek before Peter exited the car. He watched the young nurse go inside, clothes in tow, before going on to the office.

As pleased as he was to have clothes which actually fit him - in fact the sensation was nearly arousing - Peter hardly felt anymore comfortable about his changing body. His nausea was slowly lessening in regularity, but still he was having difficulty getting a full night of sleep. As the foetus inside him grew, it began to push against his bladder. His skin was beginning to itch and even being naked did not deter the feeling. Peter was starting to really hate seeing himself naked anyway. He felt like some fucking fat lump.

Upon reaching his fourth month of pregnancy, Peter stopped going to work altogether. The reasons were many; his body could no longer cope standing up for any longer time periods - especially not after his ankles started swelling - and his colleagues - nurses, doctors and health care assistants alike - kept pestering him about his “alarmingly inflating” belly and tried to push him into being examined. Most of all, though, he stopped going because he was getting increasingly depressed. Once he finished nursing school, Peter didn't believe that spending his days taking care of dying people would bother him, but now it did. It kept reminding him that there was no guarantee he was going to survive bearing the child to full term.

One evening, feeling particularly miserable, Peter found himself sitting on the couch and watching television. It did not matter what was on, he just wanted to sit there and disappear from the world. The phone rang and at first he went to answer it, but saw on the caller ID that it was Nathan. This only reminded him of how badly he felt and that he did not even want the risk the possibility of bursting into tears on the phone with his brother. So he let it ring and even ignored the phone altogether when he heard it a second time seconds later.

Peter realized this would only make Nathan come over, and this was exactly what the older man did. When Nathan entered the apartment, he found his brother lying in bed, silently weeping.

"Pete..." he addressed, kneeling on the bedside and touching his shoulder, "You okay, buddy?"

"No," was the plain answer, choked past a sob. "Why would a fucking freak be happy?"

The state of Peter's apartment made it obvious that his brother did not care much about anything any longer. Heaps of dirty laundry lay scattered here and there, the few potted plants that Peter owned were dried out and dead, and the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink was nothing short of monstrous. Plus, the entire apartment smelled disgusting, not unlike Peter himself. Even though a slob, Peter had always been prone to keep himself clean. Nathan never could have guessed he'd have to wrinkle his nose at his brother's scent.

"What's going on here, Peter?" he asked, careful not to sound accusing. "When was the last time you even showered or changed clothes?"

"I can't remember..." was the miserable reply he received.

Feeling it not at all helpful to criticize his brother at the moment, he leant in and kissed the young man's head, though he felt like gagging after doing so.

"You wanna talk about it? What's the matter?"

It took a few minutes, but Peter finally spoke. "I had to quit my job."

Nathan was afraid this would happen, but he had not expected it so soon. Giving a gentle rub up and down his brother's back, he watched as the body below him hesitantly relaxed.

"I can't even go outside anymore. It's getting too big already for me to hide."

Peter was wearing a white tank top and boxers - both which needed cleaning - providing Nathan with a fairly good view of his physique. While he had gotten bigger around the middle, the rest of him seemed to have gotten increasingly thinner. Even in the poor light Nathan could see that Peter's eyes were sunken and hollow.

"When was the last time you ate properly?" was the lawyer's next question.

"It's been a while..." Peter said almost inaudibly. "Why did you come, Nathan? Just to see me wallow in self-pity, or what?"

"I was worried," the older man said frankly. "And with good reason. God, Pete! You look like you're dying or something."

"Maybe I am..."

"Quit it. It's not funny. Come on up and let me fix you something to eat."

"Your cooking sucks," Peter said, trying to get the conversation away from himself.

"Never stopped you from eating it before," Nathan replied, ignoring the bile directed at him. He eased his brother into a sitting position a hand on both his front and back. "Come on, get up. You need to eat."

"There's nothing TO eat," Peter groaned, staring at his belly, which now had Nathan's hand on it. He was too tired to do much of anything now, and getting heavier and rounder certainly did not help.

"What do you mean there's nothing?" Nathan asked, eyebrows raised.

"There's oatmeal and cereal, but I'm out of milk. Maybe some cheese, but it might have gone bad by now."

Nathan believed it. He was about to offer to go get groceries, though he knew the answer to it, when he felt something against his hand. He glanced at Peter's stomach in slight awe.

"Well, what do you know..." he said.

Peter only sobbed, face hidden behind his hands.

"I chose to keep doing this... I chose to stay pregnant, and now look at me. I'm not even trying to be responsible... it needs food and I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself!"

"It's not the only thing that needs food... you do, too," the older man said. "And you really do need a shower," he added, scowling, his brother's smell still making him regret he had breakfast this morning. Peter continued to sob, face buried in his hands, and Nathan made a careful attempt to make him rise from the bed. One arm around Peter's waist and the other still on the prominent bulge at his front, he managed to make the younger Petrelli stand up. Peter's legs were shaking, however, and Nathan was convinced that without support, he'd collapse.

Jesus, what he needs is a doctor... the lawyer thought, suddenly freaked out. There were dozens or even hundreds of things that could go wrong during a NORMAL pregnancy... and no one had to tell him that Peter's pregnancy was far from normal.

"Come on..." Nathan gently coaxed, leading Peter toward the door.

"Where are we going?" the younger man asked past his tears.

"I'm trying to get you used to being on your feet first."

"I can't do it for very long," Peter informed, his face screwed up in a miserable grimace. "Look at my feet already."

Nathan looked down and saw for himself how swollen his brother's feet and ankles were. He hated to think how much worse they would get after a few minutes.

"Looks like someone needs to put his feet up for a while..."

"Stop bossing me around!" Peter snapped, suddenly resisting under his brother's touch. He then noticed which direction they were headed: the bathroom.

"And I don't need to be bathed like some god damned kid! Leave me alone!"

"Peter, stop it."

As he was about to yell out his refusal, Peter began to feel like he was spinning, or even falling backwards. Before he could even speak his fears of fainting, everything went black.

Even though he knew he should have expected it, Nathan was shocked when Peter's legs suddenly gave way completely and his supporting hold was no longer sufficient to hold Peter upright.

"Peter!" he yelled, catching his brother's loose-limbed body and stopping him from hitting the floor hard. "Oh god... Peter?" Nathan was kneeling on the floor, cradling his now passed out brother's head in his lap. The first thing he did was check Peter's pulse and breathing; both were strong and regular, so there was no immediate emergency.

Thoughts raced through Nathan's head. He couldn't exactly call an ambulance, supposedly... but he couldn't leave Peter lying on the cold floor either. Taking a deep breath, he worked in his arms underneath the lax body and stood up, not without a certain amount of strain. Peter had gotten heavier since he last carried him a few months ago, and lifting him from the floor complicated things further.

The older Petrelli brother was in no mood to place Peter on the sofa and especially not on the bed. Worst in smell was the bedroom, followed by the sink in the kitchen with the odor of sweaty, dirty clothes and grimy, food-caked dishes. With a sneer, Nathan thought he might as well put Peter in the bathtub where he could get the idea to take a bath...

Actually that was not a bad idea.

Thankfully Peter stayed unconscious throughout the entire bath, although coming in contact with the warm water whilst away in dreamland caused him to pee in the bathwater. At least he was stewing in soap and shampoo on top of it, Nathan surmised. Opening the drain plug and readying several towels, he once again lifted his baby brother and carried him over to the couch on a layer of towels turned sheets. Hell, the towels were the cleanest thing in the apartment, due to their lack of use.

Peter slowly drifted back to consciousness, the feeling dampness very present before he realized what was going on. He was resting on something soft - clearly not the floor - and underneath some flimsy thing that covered his lower body, he was naked. Peter jerked when a hand slowly and gently combed through his still-wet hair and only then did he realize that he was on the couch with his head on Nathan's lap. The image of his big brother's face cleared before his eyes when he opened them.

"Hey there. Welcome back..." Nathan said.

"Uhhh..." Peter groaned. "Wha... What did you do? Why am I wet...?"

"I bathed you," the lawyer said simply. "You smelled so awful I could hardly be near you. Aren't you gonna thank me?"

Peter, the insulted expression clear on his face, looked away. "I didn't need to be helped like one of my own patients."

"You fainted, so clearly you did."

"Is that what I am now? Some helpless disabled person that can't even wash himself when he needs to?"

Nathan's patience was beginning to wear thin, and this was obvious in his voice. "Even if you hadn't fainted you wouldn't have taken a bath anyway. I was doing YOU a favor. In fact, the rest of your apartment could use some cleaning as well."

Peter's glared deepened. "Well, since you're so good at being my caregiver, why don't you do the honors?"

Nathan was positively surprised that Peter didn't oppose to the idea of him cleaning the flat. "You mean you wouldn't mind if I did?" he asked.

"Do what you want," Peter said glumly. "You always do, don't you? What I think has never mattered to you. Not the great Nathan Petrelli, mommy's and daddy's little golden boy."

Nathan held back a sigh of frustration and freed himself from Peter. He was not going to take the bait and be drawn into a banter; he'd learned to avoid the signs a long time ago. Still, Peter could be tiresome to deal with sometimes.

Nathan walked into the bedroom, holding his breath, and opened the window. He would start there. Hopefully Peter at least had a few big, black refuse sacks stored somewhere.

By the time Nathan was finished with the bedroom, Peter had fallen asleep again. Glancing over at him from behind the sofa, he could not help but smile. The young nurse's expression made him look as though he was still angry even in sleep. Giving in the urge to pat his brothers drying hair, Nathan then continued with his work.

Toward the end of his cleaning, Nathan was feeling like one of the maids he had employed at the mansion. How could anyone want to do this for a living?? Finishing up the last of the filthy dishes, he turned his head the sound of someone leaning against the door frame. Peter, face mirroring his stubborn fatigue, approached him and leant against the taller man, arm going around his waist. Considering how gloomy the young man was earlier, Nathan was pleasantly surprised.

"Wow, sleep does wonders for your mood."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter demanded, pulling away from his formerly relaxed embrace. "That I'm too much of a bastard to want to hug you? I just wanted some comfort, you asshole!"

"Oh, calm down, Peter," Nathan said with a snort. He'd had it with these sudden and just plain ridiculous mood swings. He was done being indulgent. "We don't want you wetting yourself again."

Peter looked like he'd been slapped. "What the hell do you mean by that?!" he yelled in a loud, high-pitched voice.

Nathan started to regret bringing it up, but Peter had really given him no choice. "You peed in the water when I bathed you," he said.

The young nurse's face was twisted into a wretched, miserable grimace. "I didn't fuckin' ask you to come here and insult me!" he spat out, snot and mucus dribbling from his nose. "I hate you! Go back to your perfect house and your perfect wife and perfect kids and leave me the fuck alone!"

Nathan took a step toward him, arms stretched out, and Peter backed away, when his head started spinning again.

In his moment of disorientation, he lost his footing and would have hit the ground hard if his brother had not intervened. Peter's legs buckled anyway and the two of them sank to the ground, Nathan following to make sure he did not get hurt.

"Okay, now calm down..." the lawyer whispered, all sarcasm and spite gone from his voice. "Breathe deep... there we go..."

Hand over his eyes, Peter did as told and his breaths became shaky with the coming of a sob. Arms around the young man, Nathan rubbed his back and kissed him on the temple.

"It's okay now... you need to lie down?"

"I think so," Peter answered with a sniffle. "God, I'm so tired of crying."

An inspection of Peter's fridge only proved what his brother had told him earlier; there was basically nothing to eat. Besides a half-full package of cereal, some oatmeal and a moldy piece of old cheese - which Nathan had thrown away - there was nothing. Same with clothes that still fit Peter. Most of the maternity stuff that they had bought together weeks ago had been worn to the point of wear and tear. And pretty much Peter's entire wardrobe was a foul-smelling mess that needed cleaning. Nathan managed to find his brother a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants, but among the tops that did not need cleaning, there was nothing that would fit him now.

Once they had managed to get Peter to the couch without him going weak at the knees, his feet were propped up by several throw pillows, which Peter had to admit he never thought of doing before. Almost immediately he thought he could practically see the swelling go down, because he certainly felt it.

"You stay here," Nathan said, putting a blanket over his half naked brother, "I'm gonna go get groceries."

Peter scoffed at the idea, but he was getting far too comfortable on the couch to want to start another argument. An hour later, around 9:30 PM, the hospice nurse was awoken by the sound of his brother returning.

"I got you some more t-shirts," he called out from his spot in the kitchen as he put away food.

"Did you get any tuna fish?"

"No, was I supposed to?"

"I've been feeling up to having some for days." After the groan from his brother, he added, "but I'd probably puke it up anyway. I'm still not sure about how well my stomach is doing."

After microwaving some soup for his brother, the two of them sat down in front of the television and several minutes passed before Peter spoke up again.

"I suppose this is another loan?"

Nathan lifted an eyebrow. "It's not like you can do much about buying food anyway."

"I don't want to live off of you," Peter said grumpily. "I wanna make it on my own."

Nathan bit back a sarcastic remark about how well he was doing so far, and just decided to ignore his younger brother.

"It's a loan!" Peter insisted, stirring the cup of soup with a spoon.

"If you say so..." the older man admitted wearily. "For now I just want you to survive, Peter." He wrapped a tender arm around his brother's slumped shoulders and kissed the now fragrant mop of dark hair. "Want me to stay tonight?"

Peter tried to keep an angry expression, although the contact with his brother made it difficult.

"I'm still mad at you."

"You're allowed," the older man grinned. "That doesn't answer my question though."

Mulling over the offer for a half minute, Peter finally said, "...yeah, sure. Heidi's going to think you're spending your days with another woman, you know."

After a pause, Peter looked up and the expression on his brother's face made him regret bringing up the lawyer's wife. Before he could apologize, Nathan raised a hand to stop him.

"I'm beginning to wonder if it's better that she should. She doesn't need to know about either of us having these abilities. And even worse, if she did find out about the two of us, Mom would find out."

Peter's face went sober as well. "She'd know I didn't go through the abortion."

"Yes, that too," Nathan said thoughtfully. "And that we're..." He let the sentence trail off, knowing full well that it didn't need to be completed.

Peter was actually surprised that they had managed to keep their affair hidden from their mother for so long. With her seemingly miraculous way of figuring things out, it was a miracle that she hadn't figured out this one. Her sons sleeping together... Maybe Angela purposefully chose to look away.

"How are things with you and Heidi, anyway?" Peter inquired.

Nathan raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I mean... I know it's not my business, but do you still...?"

"How's the sex life, you mean?" Nathan finished the question for him.

Peter felt himself blush. "Well, I just thought... with her being in a wheelchair and all..."

"We've found ways around it..." his brother replied, "Figured out ways of satisfying each other... and ways of avoiding the subject altogether..."

"Avoiding the subject?"

"Well... it could be much better than it really is."

Peter wondered if this was one of the reasons why his older brother spent so much time with him, but he hardly wanted to be put in a worse mood than he already was. He was about to change the subject when Nathan did it for him.

"I felt something move in there," he stated, nodding to his brother's growing bulge.

"Uh, yeah..." Peter replied, hardly sure of how to react to the feeling himself. "So far it had just been butterflies in my stomach. That was the first real big movement." Even though they were both nervous of the very idea of Peter going through to full term, Nathan wondered if they should be at all optimistic about the pregnancy.

"How should we feel about that?" he inquired awkwardly.

"Dunno..." Peter admitted. "I'm not too enthusiastic about bonding."

"You're the one who chose to keep it," Nathan pointed out.

"Don't remind me," Peter said with a vicious glare at his big brother. "I made a simple choice - die on the operating table then and there or wait and see if I'd have a chance. I chose the latter."

"Peter..." Nathan began carefully, wanting the younger man's full attention. "I need to know something."

"What?"

"And be honest."

"I always am."

"Once it comes out, and assuming it's... viable... Will you be able to part from it?"

Peter looked insecure as he thought of an answer to the question. He nibbled on his lip for a moment, but Nathan was patient for a reply.

"I want to. I can't take care of it, and I can't let it be a part of my life. It needs to be with people who can care for it and provide for it... if I'm half the person I've made myself out to be, I'd give it away."

"Yes but"--

"I'm not finished," Peter interrupted, eye closed. "I will be able to part with it. It's the only real choice we have... that I have."

"Okay..." Nathan responded. "Good."

"Good?"

"You're thinking clearly. You still think with your heart too much in my opinion, but you're a rational person when you need to be."

"Might have gotten it from you," Peter mused aloud.

"Yes, you might've," Nathan replied, obviously failing to catch the sarcasm in the question. "I'm proud of you, Pete."

Even though his brother said it a lot, Peter couldn't help but feel proud, as well. A small smile found its way to his lips, and he was able to ignore his entire miserable situation for the moment.

"Nathan...? If you make it to congress, then what?"

"And...?"

"You'll be even busier than you're now... traveling a lot, too. You won't be able to take care of me." The prospect of going through this without Nathan to lean back on frankly frightened the life out of Peter. Even if he survived the birth itself, the road back would be long. Nathan wanted to say he had thought the notion over many times, which he had. He also wanted to give an answer to soothe his brother's nerves and provide real explanation... which he could not.

"I don't know, Pete," he finally said. "I have no idea. And it scares me."

Instead of firing anger and offense at his brother, Peter only snuggled closer, guiding large comforting hands around his form.

"Me too."

"You want to go to bed?"

"Okay."


TBC...