Family Emergency

Another month later, Peter awoke, went to fix some tea, and found himself staring at a note which had been passed under his door. He read the message - very brief and formal though it was - several times before the impact of it sank in properly. Rent was past due, he had three days to find the money and pay it, or he would end up being evicted from his apartment. The amount of $980 didn't use to be a problem for him when he still had his salary from the nursing home; now, however, it was. Peter already knew that his savings didn't cover up that much money; in fact, he'd been living off them ever since he quit his job. Going through his wallet, he found one wrinkled fifty-dollar bill and some change in small coins. Peter felt like crying.

If Nathan found out, he would most definitely pay the rent for him, which was the last thing he wanted. Already the young man had caved in more times than he ever wanted to in order to get by, simply due to his brother's charity. But was his own integrity that important that he would risk giving up his own home? Collapsing against his door and sinking to the ground, Peter ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm okay," he said repeatedly, though he did not truly believe it. "I can get through this... I'm okay."

*

Several days later, Nathan decided to call up his baby brother to check on him. He had been complaining about something involving bloating and though it was hardly a subject the lawyer wanted to tackle, he wanted to be there for his own kin. Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he hit the speed dial for Peter's number.

Instead of the usual sound of signals going through, Nathan was met by an automated female voice calmly telling him that the number he'd dialed was no longer in service. Dumbfounded, he checked the number to see if it was correct. Refusing to believe that it was, he dialed Peter's number again, manually this time, and got the same response.
Even though it was only 12:30 in the afternoon, Nathan decided that they would have to get by without him for the rest of the day at work. He had more pressing matters to deal with than turning papers and spending time on the phone with upper class snobs. Who knew what Peter had gotten himself involved with this time...

Parking was a challenge at this time of day, as usual for New York, and so Nathan decided it better if he took a cab. He did not need to be parking several blocks away and spending all of his time walking the rest of the way thinking about what could have possibly been the explanation for Peter's absent phone service. Once he hurriedly paid the taxi driver, he dashed out and crossed the street to get to his brother's apartment building.

Along the way, he noticed a new derelict had taken up residence in the alleyway adjacent to the building. Curled up under relatively new looking clothes, he must have been a recent addition to the homeless on the New York streets. He was also relatively young, something Nathan noticed as he passed him. Strange as the concept was, the bum almost looked like...

Nathan stopped in his tracks and wheeled around, hoping his eyes had been fooling him. But when he reached the sleeping figure again, the recognition was instantaneous.

"PETER?!"

The young man started awake, curling deeper into himself when the harsh, loud voice abruptly pulled him from his sleep. Peter had the look of a hunted animal in his eyes, confused and terrified. Nathan knelt beside him and took Peter's now rather dirty face between his hands.

"My God!" he exclaimed, unable to stop himself. "What the fuck are you doing out here, Peter? It's practically freezing!"

His brother only wore a pair of sweatpants and a large hoodie with a T-shirt underneath. Some of his clothes served as a bedding, among them a maternity coat that Nathan had gotten him from Wal-mart.

The unclean face in Nathan's hands crumpled up into a look of pure torment. All that the wailing voice could intelligibly emit was a choked out, "... goddd..."

Uncaring of whatever expensive suit he was currently wearing, Nathan pulled his brother into a warm embrace, not only as a means of warmth, but also because of how upset the two of them truly were.

"Why the hell are you out here, Peter? What are you thinking, for god's sakes?!"

Peter wept out the words and though they were hard to understand, Nathan could make them out, for he had a strong feeling what they would be.

"I was evicted."

"Evicted?" the older Petrelli echoed, wondering if he'd heard correctly. "You were evicted, Pete?"

A nod against his chest was all the confirmation he needed. "I... I c-couldn't pay the... the r-rent, and my l-landlord kick-ked me out..."

Despite the fact that Nathan knew that scolding his brother for his stupidity would not help at the time, he did it anyway.

"Are you fucking out of your mind, Peter?" he shouted, now shaking the smaller man by the shoulders. "If you were out of money, why didn't you call me?! Don't say you'd rather live out on the street than ask me for help! What were you thinking?"

Peter hid behind his clenched hands, his face a mask of pure inner turmoil. Tears and spittle ran down his face, adding to the filth.
"I'm ss-soorrr-ry," he moaned loudly. "I'm sorrryyy..."

Nathan soon realized that their location was at the mouth of the alley and thus they could be seen by anyone walking by. He quickly picked up what clothes his brother had brought out with him and urged Peter to stand. When he finally obeyed, Peter continued to hunch over and weep.

"Come on, back here," the lawyer ordered, leading him further into the alleyway.

"I'm a stupid fuck..." Peter sobbed. He looked ready to go into hyperventilation. "I didn't want you to have to help and now I'm out here!"

"You're right about being a stupid fuck," Nathan said grimly, weighing between further scolding his brother or comforting him. Perhaps both were in order. "But now that I'm here, you can't refuse my help. First things first... how long have you been living out here?"

"...a day..." Peter sobbed. "I asked him to give me a few more days, but he wouldn't listen... said he'd given me enough already and that I couldn't be trusted... He took my keys and threw me out of my own home! God, Nathan... all my things are still there!"

"Let's worry about that later," the lawyer said calmly. "What we gotta focus on now is getting you warm." He carefully unfolded Peter's tightly clenched fists only to see that his fingers where marble-white. Nathan rubbed them between his own hands to heat them up and restore circulation into them. "We have to get you inside," he told Peter. His brother's body temperature had to be dangerously low.

Peter looked like the lost child Nathan had known over twenty years ago and his disappointed frown nearly faltered.

"Where am I going to go?" the young man asked miserably.

Nathan sighed, trying to clear his thoughts, as he led his brother somewhat forcefully inside the lobby of the apartment building. Clearly Peter was afraid to be caught within the property, since he was no longer a tenant.

"I'll get you a place at a hotel, and don't worry, it won't be a fancy one. Low key, remember? Besides you don't want to be in a four-star hotel, right?"

Peter sniffled up a large amount of a spit-mucus concoction. "I don't even deserve it, after how I've acted..."

"It was an idiotic thing to do, but I found you, didn't I?" Nathan said, continuing to rub his brother's hands.

*

Within an hour or so, the Petrelli brothers had caught a taxi out to a moderately priced hotel inclined toward tourists. Nathan checked them in under false names, not wanting the media to get wind of their current location. He had to bribe the reception clerk from asking for IDs, discreetly slipping to hundred-dollar bills into his hand apart from the regular payment.

The man, a meager, rat-like fellow with long, greasy hair, merely looked them over and shot Nathan a smarmy grin. "Certainly, Sir."

Peter continued to cling to his brother, desperate for warmth and human contact.

The room they'd been assigned had a double bed, a bathroom and a small kitchenette. Nathan immediately led Peter to the bathroom and began filling the bathtub with steaming hot water. "Strip," he ordered.

When the young nurse only stood there, arms crossed and staring at the ground, Nathan gave the look he gave many times in the past. It was a stern look that took no refusal and no alternate option.

"Now's not the time to play the independent role, Peter. You put yourself in this mess and I'm helping you, no matter what. Now strip."

Peter's visage read of vulnerability as he turned his back on his brother. "It would be better if you didn't look," came an embarrassed, small voice.

At first Nathan took this as something serious. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I..." exhaling in defeat, Peter began to remove his clothes. "I just don't like the way I look."

"I have to make sure you're not injured anywhere," Nathan said, refusing to look away. "Another night out there, and we might have had to amputate your fingers."

Peter left the T-shirt on for last, even after stepping out of his pants and boxers. His feet and ankles were still puffy and bloated, and his stomach stuck out almost grotesquely from his small frame. He'd seen people - men and women - with ascites during his schooling, and he realized that was how he must look to someone who did not know what was going on.

When Peter made no attempt to remove the T-shirt, Nathan stepped up to his brother and did it himself. Peter fortunately knew better than to resist. Strangely enough, it was not the protruding belly that drew his attention on the pregnant man's body. Peter's nipples had become large and swollen, and holding the T-shirt, Nathan felt it was damp around the chest area.

Peter had never felt so exposed and shamed in his whole life, and Nathan could tell just by his face alone. Burning with humiliation, the younger brother began to weep. His chest seemed to be doing some weeping of its own at the same time.

"Oh god, Peter..." Nathan said gently, pulling the other man into a hug. At first Peter resisted, but he was far too distraught to put up a fight for long.

"What a time you've been having, huh?" his big brother asked. He only clung to Nathan tighter. The fetus knocked against the older man's stomach and he could still faintly feel it through layers of warm clothes.

"Looks like you're beginning to adapt," Nathan pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Don't remind me..." Peter said, sniffling angrily but still clinging to his brother. "I look like a fuckin' circus freak!"

"Now, now... Don't get upset. We still need to get you into that bath."

Nathan slowly disengaged Peter from himself and watched as the younger man shakily and hesitantly lowered his oddly shaped body into the tub of hot water. He also couldn't help noticing that Peter used his other arm to cover up his chest the best he could. Of all the things that had happened to his physique, the lactating nipples were the worst and most humiliating.

"I'd like some privacy, please..." Peter remarked when he realized Nathan was still watching him intently.

"Not going to happen," the older man said firmly. "The condition that you're in, there's no way of knowing whether you'll stay conscious throughout the bath. I'll stay so I can watch over you."

Peter shrugged. "Fine, then join me. I don't like being the only one naked."

Smiling, Nathan almost instantly began to remove his clothes, starting first with his tie and working his way down the buttons of his business shirt. Laying his office clothes in a neat pile, he grabbed a bar of soap from the medicine cabinet.

"Sorry if you won't exactly fit in here with me," Peter said, almost sounding sarcastic.


"Nah, that's fine," Nathan replied, taking a seat on the edge of the tub, legs crossed and one foot submerged. Peter took the opportunity to lean his head against a naked hip, closing his eyes in pleasure to the feeling of a hand soaping his skin in the heavenly hot water.

He'd taken baths and showers with his brother before and tried not to think back to the occasion last month when Nathan had bathed him while unconscious and said he'd urinated in the bath water. Peter flexed his pelvic muscles in response to the memory, determined not to let that happen again.

"Your hair's a mess," Nathan commented. "We need to wash it thoroughly to get out all the dirt and grain." He momentarily left the bath to go looking for a bottle of shampoo and found one in the cabinet; a cheap brand and not what he normally used, but it would do.

Peter scooted over to the short end of the tub, trying to make room for Nathan to fit in behind him. He was slightly perturbed that Nathan only took the offer far enough to sit on the edge again with his feet in the water, seated directly behind his brother.

"If I need to relax, then I can't sit up like this for very long," the nurse pointed out. "I'll need to lean back and I'll put my head against your garbage."

Nathan snickered and responded with, "maybe that's the idea."

Rolling his eyes, Peter continued onward. "Come on, I don't take up THAT much room in here yet, do I?"

Concerned that this discussion might turn into another fight, Nathan proceeded to sink into a spot right behind his little brother, lathering and rinsing the hair in front of his face over and over until he was positively certain that it was practically squeaking like a polished window. He'd often bathed Peter when the other was a child, and to say the truth, his hair had not changed much since those days. Unlike Nathan, Peter always let his hair grow out until it became practically troublesome.

"You really need to trim this mess..." he muttered, having moved over to wash his brother's back instead. "You'd save a lot on shampoo alone."

"You're just jealous..." Peter muttered back.

"Jealous?" Nathan repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, I know you can't grow yours out because it curls so bad." Now there was a smug edge to Peter's voice.

Nathan replied by pouring a mug full of water over Peter's head. Instantly Peter's face was gone, enveloped by a thick, sopping blanket of wet hair. Nathan could not help but laugh and to his pleasant surprise, his brother did too. Pushing the dripping curtain of hair aside, he did his best - what with lack of space and his own lack of mobility - to pounce on his brother, sending water splashing out the sides of the tub. Nathan truly did not care. He had not seen his brother happy ever since before he had found out he was pregnant. Laughing and hugging one another, they half-wrestled, half-cleaned for the remainder of the time in the tub.

"Not childish huh?" Peter asked, nudging his brother's leg as Nathan stood. The older man removed himself from the tub and grabbed a towel to place on the currently very damp floor. The last thing they needed was for Peter to slip and fall.

"Need help?"

"Most likely," Peter answered.

Nathan firmly held on to both of Peter's hands, ready to catch him should he slip, while his baby brother slowly stood up and stepped out of the water. Once both of Peter's feet were safely planted on the towel-covered floor, Nathan finally dared to let go and realized how spasmodic his grip had been. "Sorry about that..." he murmured, noticing the red marks left by his fingers on Peter's hands.

"No worries. I know you're just concerned," the younger man smiled back and began to dry himself with a towel. Nathan saw fit to do the same and pulled on his underwear once he was somewhat dry. Peter, on the other hand, just stared at the heap of dirty clothes that he had left on the floor.

"I don't have anything clean to wear..." he said dumbly.

Nathan shrugged. "You look tired anyway. You need some sleep. It's been one hell of a day."

Peter could not help but yawn at the thought of sleeping in a bed. Homeless only one day and he needed a real bed to sleep in... Then again, he was also pregnant at the same time.

As Nathan watched whatever was on the television provided in the room, Peter could not keep his eyes open if he wanted to. His older brother saw this and left the TV on, slipping away as gently and quietly as possible. Hopefully this would not take long.

***

"I don't care how late his payment is," Nathan said, his face like a storm cloud. "He has been ill and can't work. You will take him back and let him live here because I am going to be paying his rent. He may not be reliable all the time, but I am." Pulling out a check book and a pen, he began to write.
"How much?"

***

When Peter awoke, he saw Nathan sitting in a chair provided by the hotel, shopping bag in his hands.

"What's in those...?" he asked, the question accompanied by a loud yawn. Sitting up in the bed, he stretched, his back protesting as he did so. At least he'd gotten a few hours of undisturbed sleep.

"Clothing for the upcoming days and some other stuff you might need; toothbrush, skin lotion, shaving cream..."

"And then what?" Peter interrupted his brother.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stay at this hotel forever, can I? Where am I supposed to go? I can't exactly move back home with mom, can I?"

Nathan cleared his throat. "Perhaps... we could try having a talk with your landlord," he suggested.

Sighing, Peter resumed his prostrate position on the bed, wanting to go back to sleep and avoid the entire world. "Figured you'd say that."

"You liked that apartment, and I don't want to see you out on the streets like that again. You don't want to be back out there either, do you?"

"Of course not!" Peter argued. "But... god, you should try talking with this guy who's my landlord. He's a freakin' hardass. It'll be impossible."

"Well... what if I did... and..." Nathan stopped when his brother turned his head to frown at him harshly.

"Nathan, please tell me you didn't."

"I had no choice, I..." the older man watched as Peter curled up in a ball on the mattress and wondered if he was crying again. "Are you okay?"

At first Peter did not answer.

"Why is it so bad for me to take care of my own baby brother?" he asked the motionless young man.


"Because I need to take care of myself. I can't get anywhere with just other people providing for me..."

"You have been taking care of yourself," Nathan persisted. "You went through nursing school without dad's money, working three different jobs during nights and weekends. You did just fine, until..." Nathan wasn't sure whether he should mention the onset of his brother's ability or the pregnancy. Both had nearly been fatal, after all.

"How much did you give him?" Peter asked in a muffled voice.

"Does it matter?"

"I'm paying you back, so yes, it matters to me."

"Two grand," Nathan sighed. "Peter, listen, I'm not expecting you to"--

Suddenly Nathan's cell phone rang, and Peter was grateful for the interruption. This changed, however, once he found out who was on the phone.

"Hello, mom," Nathan said.

Peter's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, but Nathan waved a hand of reassurance.
"Yeah, Mom, I'm great," he said on the phone. "Monty and Simon are asking when they can come over again. They've probably caught on to 'grandma equals presents'..."

Peter could faintly hear his mother's voice from his place on the bed, but even more clearly was the sound of his own heart ready to jump out of his throat. Had she found out about them? About their canceled abortion? About their relationship?

"Nathan," Angela Petrelli addressed her son, "have you made sure to check on your brother lately ever since the 'appointment'?"

Peter couldn't but admire Nathan for his stoicism. Maybe that was why his brother would make such a good politician; he could lie without blinking.

"Yes, mom, I have. He's fine. Recovering nicely. The scar on his stomach is almost gone. I think we can expect his powers to return shortly, as well."

"That's good to hear," Mrs. Petrelli said, her voice unreadable as always. "Have you found out who made him that way in the first place?"

"No, I have no idea who he absorbed that ability from," Nathan answered truthfully.

"No, Nathan - I meant, has he told you who made him pregnant? Even with that ability, those things don't just happen by themselves."

"Mom," Nathan began, careful not to give away too much. "He got it from another man and that's all he's saying. It makes sense and so it's an answer I'm satisfied with."

"And you're assuming he's telling the truth? That he's not hiding something he's ashamed of?"

Nathan hoped it was only motherly instinct which inspired Angela to ask such, not suspicion of her son's lifestyle. "He's my brother and I trust him with the truth. It's his privacy and I'm not going to press further. Besides, we got rid of the damn thing and that's all that matters. He's safe."

What a crock of shit that was, Peter thought. He watched Nathan end the conversation with their mother with the usual "love you, love you too" trivialities and then sank back against the pillows, groaning out his frustration.

"I've got it under control, Peter," Nathan said reassuringly. "She's not going to seek you out."

"Oh, that's very comforting," Peter said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How do you do it, Nathan? How can you be so good at lying? One could almost believe it's innate with you."

"Practice," the older man replied dryly. "You should thank me for averting the crisis."

"Thanks so much," Peter said, over-enunciating his words.

Nathan ignored this and instead sat down next to his brother, patting his head gently as though paying undivided attention to a puppy. "Do you want to try out your clothes?"

"What maternity size did you get this time?"

Nathan blinked in surprise. "You've figured it out then...?"

Peter smirked. "You forgot to remove a tag in one of the clothes you bought. I think the name Motherhood kind of gives it away."

Nathan raised his hands as though in submission. "Sorry. Are you mad?"

Peter glanced at the shopping bag, shaking his head regretfully. "It's getting to the point where I won't be fitting in anything else. At least you didn't get anything in pink."

And he was only in his sixth month of pregnancy. To think how he would look in two or three months... The lactating nipples were his currently most troublesome problem, though. No matter what he wore on his upper body, a few hours later there were two wet stains in the front. Not to mention that his nipples had become sore and swollen and very sensitive to touch.

"I hope you didn't get anything too expensive," he said glumly, still regarding the pristine shopping bag. "I kind of soil my shirts nowadays..."

Nathan's ears seemed to perk up. "Oh yes, I was thinking about that. Can I see how they look?"

Peter held the blanket to his chest and glared up at his brother. "Didn't you see enough when we were taking a bath?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. You can't exactly control what your body does anymore. Now let me see."

With a sigh, the younger Petrelli let his brother pull down the bedcovers and expose his chest. Nathan, brow creased in concentration, experimentally prodded one red, swollen teat and Peter winced in response.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, you're not."

"Oh come on..." Nathan reasoned, scrutinizing the pink buds.

"If you were in my position, you'd want to take your anger out on someone too," Peter replied. "Just... ow... be careful..."

"I will." With a caution never used before, the older brother put his fingertips against one of the nubs and traced circles around it, feeling the soft, puffy nature of it.

"I think if we put something cold on them it might help," Peter suggested, eyes closed as though counting the very seconds before the inspection was over.

"Sounds like a plan," Nathan said, standing from the mattress and sweetly ruffling his brother's hair. "You're the expert after all."

In less than a minute, Nathan returned with two wash cloths soaked in cold water. Once again showing the care he had earlier, he placed them on Peter's tender chest. The cold, wet nature of the material first made his chest sting even worse than before, but after a few seconds when his body had adapted, Peter could practically feel the swelling go down.

"Does that feel better?" Nathan asked compassionately and slid onto the bed next to his baby brother.


"Yes... but the relief is only temporary," Peter said regretfully. "As soon as we remove the washcloths, we're back at where we started."

"Now that you brought that up..." Nathan began, looking as though he was mentally preparing himself for some great task. "Maybe we ought to get you something that will protect your shirts... and maybe offer some protection, as well. Like... a bra?"

Nathan almost felt he should be afraid of the glare he received in response. "Hey, kiddo, I'm just trying to help! You have a better idea?"

Peter looked away, sighing in aggravation. "No, but..."

"It's not like I get my jollies out of humiliating you, you know," the lawyer said. "I don't like seeing you miserable like this. I thought maybe a bra should help, I don't know... maybe a tight undershirt with some tissues stuffed in...?"

Grimacing, Peter leaned his head against his brother's shoulder. He savored the feeling of a warm hand against his face but otherwise did not respond to the touch.
"I don't want to put stains on all my clothes... but I'm not wearing a bra. As if I couldn't be more of a man in a woman's body..."

"You're not a woman, Peter," Nathan said gravely. "Just because... this happened doesn't mean you're not still a man. You're my brother."

"Oh, am I? I'm starting to feel more like your hermaphrodite-thing sibling, or something..."

"Now you're being ridiculous," the older Petrelli scolded. "It's not like these changes are even permanent."

"And how can you be so sure of that, Mr. Know-Everything?" Peter snapped back. "Maybe I'm stuck with these leaking jugs for the rest of my miserable life!"

"They'll go away... together with this." Nathan placed his hand on his brother's belly and was instantly greeted with a tiny kick from the foetus. "Look! Whatever it is, it's eager to get out."

Face red and hot to the touch against his big brother's neck, Peter turned away and lay down on his side, back facing the older man. He had a hand over his embarrassed expression and his shoulder twitched as he held back a sob. Nathan, feeling guilty at how horrible his brother felt, embraced him from behind, kissing the back of the nurse's neck.

"I'm sorry."

"We shouldn't encourage things like that.”

"I know. Just trying to lighten the mood. Can I do anything else?"

"Could... could you stay until I fall asleep?" Peter's voice rang of the utmost insecurity.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Some more sobs wracked Peter's body, causing him to tremble in Nathan's arms. The lawyer had removed his suit jacket and shoes, and loosened his tie, but he was otherwise fully dressed while Peter was in his birthday suit. Ever since Peter was an infant, Nathan’s touch had had a soothing effect on him, although the nature of said touch had changed from brotherly to sexually intimate when Peter was a teen.

Nathan passed one large hand over Peter's flank, avoiding the swell of his stomach on purpose so as not to lower his brother's mood even further. Reaching the young man's hip, Nathan noted that it was still bony despite the change his body had gone through. Nathan continued to explore the soft curvature of the buttocks, keeping his touch feather-light until reaching into his brother's groin and gripping Peter's soft penis. Nothing happened to the organ upon the older man's touch. However, the rest of Peter squirmed, back tense and limbs nudging the other man away. Within his sobs he groaned in rebuttal, far from desire of the contact. Nathan reached out to comfort his brother but Peter refused the touch.

"No!"

"Pete, what on earth..." Nathan sat up, looking at the anguish on his baby brother's face. "You okay?"

"First all the money, and now you want to fuck." Peter curled up in as tight a ball as his cumbersome figure could manage, legs gathered together against his groin. "You're making me feel like a whore!"

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard from you!" Nathan shouted, unable to keep his composure any longer. "I paid your rent because I couldn't stand the thought of you, my pregnant baby brother, living outdoors like a rat. What do you take me for?!"

"You know very well I can't pay you back, Nathan! At least not with money. Your coming on to me now only proves that you know that, as well!"

Nathan believed he had never before come so close to hitting Peter as he did in this moment. Face dark red from fury, he leapt off the bed, staring at Peter with eyes that were practically black.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut, you little shit! As far as I can remember, you've been whoring yourself to me - quite willingly, I might add - since you were sixteen!"


Tears falling down his furious visage, Peter grabbed the first thing he saw, a hotel-issued alarm clock.

"You FUCKING BASTARD!" he screamed, hurling it at Nathan. The older man only knocked it aside, letting it loudly crash against a table and hit the floor as he charged at his brother. Grabbing Peter by the arm and squeezing hard, he balled his hand into a fist.

"You want me to fix all this for you then, you little brat!" He readied the fist near his brother's belly and Peter cried out in response. "I could just hit it enough times, YOU WANT THAT?!"

To say Peter was terrified was a massive understatement and he sobbed out a tormented refusal. "I'm sorr-r-yy..." he wept, gasping, "Nath-annn... I'm sorry... please..."

Upon seeing the glassy expression of pure terror and pain in his brother's large eyes, the impact of what he was doing caught up with Nathan and he lowered his balled fist, suddenly out of breath. Peter shrank back against the mattress, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably as he tried to make himself as small as possible. The area on his arm where Nathan had gripped him had deep marks left from fingers that would probably turn blue in time.

"Peter..." Nathan gasped, dismayed at how his brother recoiled from him. "My God, Peter, I didn't know what I was doing! Look at me, please!"

Peter continued to hide his face in his hands and cry, pressing up against the headboard as if trying to crawl into it.

Nathan felt horrible. He felt like the cruelest person in the world and even more so when the younger man whimpered and flinched under his touch. Quitting his attempts to calm his baby brother, he stood up and gathered his clothes, not even bothering to put them on until he was outside of the hotel room. The eldest of the Petrelli brothers nearly cried himself, but he pushed aside the urge and continued down the hallway and eventually out of the hotel altogether.

TBC...