Family Emergency

Chapter 6

Peter ended up crying himself to sleep and when he awoke the following morning, it took him a moment or so to realize why his sinuses were so blocked and his eyes so sore. Looking around as though expecting some part of Nathan's presence to still be there, he saw the shopping bag of clothes and essentials still on the chair.

Why did I act like that? he asked himself. He had acted like a little monster in front of Nathan to the point that his brother almost beat him into a miscarriage. Where the hell was his brother? Hands trembling, he reached for the phone and dialed Nathan's number.


Morning at the office had been hell for Nathan. Unable to focus on any task at hand, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to Peter and last night at the hotel room. Nathan regretted leaving his brother alone, despite everything that happened. Even if Peter hated him now, it was still Nathan's responsibility to watch over him and make sure he didn't do anything... stupid. It was no secret among the family that Peter had had some mental problems. The kid was possibly even suicidal, just like their father had been.

I'll go check on him during lunch break, Nathan promised himself, praying that Peter was still left at the hotel and not out wandering... or even worse; lying dead somewhere, by his own hand or someone else's. The thought was too painful to even be present, so Nathan suppressed it the best he could, telling himself that Peter could be rational enough to deal with this.

A quarter to eleven his secretary stuck her head into his office and informed him that he had a call. "Your brother's on line three. It sounded urgent," she said.

Nathan had picked up his own office phone and ordered the call to be transferred before he could even consciously realize what he was doing. The moment Peter was sent to his phone line, he was relieved to hear so much as his baby brother's breathing.

"Hey Peter..." he said, the ability to speak suddenly gone from his mind. He made sure his office door was locked before he continued. "How are you doing, buddy?"

A moment's pause made his wait for the answer all the more painful. When he heard soft whispers of a voice weeping on the other end, his chest tightened.

"I called... to apologize. These fucking hormones, I dunno... I didn't mean to make you so mad..."

"Hey, hey..." Nathan said, his voice soothing. "It's okay... I'm the one who deserves to feel awful. I wasn't myself either."

"I...I know you were just trying to make me feel better," Peter continued, voice still guilt-ridden and apologetic. "I didn't mean what I said about being a whore to you. I guess I was still angry about you paying my rent and stuff without asking first."

"I wasn't gonna hit you, Peter," Nathan said. "I mean, I was close, but I wasn't going to do it."

"I know," Peter said simply. "You've never hit me, Nathan. All those times I've pissed you off and given you a reason to, but you never have."

Elbow rested on his desk, Nathan placed a hand against his eyes in tired fashion, sighing at how close he had been to ruining his relationship with his brother forever. "I'm sorry, buddy."

"I'm sorry too."

Clearing his throat, the lawyer looked up at the clock on the wall. Suddenly he had an idea. "I break for lunch at noon. What do you say we head to the park or something? We can talk there."

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Peter blinked away the few remaining tears in his eyes and mentally pushed away the sadness which had been overflowing inside him ever since last night.

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot. I need to get outside anyway, even if everyone stares at me. I'm sick of being indoors."

*

Peter took a long, almost scalding hot shower before heading off to meet his brother in the park. He had also finally gone through the clothing articles that Nathan had purchased for him the previous day and chose to wear a pair of jeans that actually had panels - they were the most comfortable - together with a simple white tank top and a hoodie to cover it.

The one coat that Nathan had gotten was also a maternity item; Peter could tell that by its large waist-expanse. He looked ridiculous in it, but at least it felt warm. After the night spent out on in the alley, Peter never wanted to be cold again.

Not wanting to waste money on a cab, Peter walked; an action he knew he would regret. Indeed, by the time he reached the park and sat down on a bench, his feet and ankles were cursing him to the bowels of hell. Yet he did not care, because he desperately needed to see Nathan in the flesh, to further prove that no ill feelings would be between the two of them.

As he sat waiting, Peter watched the usual New York citizens who enjoyed taking advantage of the park's presence. Health nuts jogged down the path while dog owners roamed with their fuzzy friends. The closest fellow bench warmer was a middle aged woman reading a newspaper, and she glanced at him a few times. Peter was surprised she had not begun staring at him like the anomaly of nature that he was, so he assumed she was nearsighted.

The young nurse only had to wait about five minutes before he saw Nathan walking towards him. The older brother gestured considerately for Peter not to trouble himself with standing, but his younger brother got to his feet anyway, enveloping Nathan in a hug.

The lawyer returned the almost desperate embrace, thinking once again how grateful he should be just to hold Peter in his arms again. If possible, he would have liked to have his memories of last night wiped altogether. They stood clinging onto each other for almost a minute, and Nathan could tell by the scent of Peter's hair that his brother had showered just recently.

"Hey there, little buddy," he said, brushing the ever-present bangs from the other's thin, pale face. He would have liked to kiss Peter, as well, preferably on the lips, but too many people were watching, possibly even someone he knew. "Are you hungry? Would you like to go somewhere and have a bite?"

Peter could not help but smile at the offer. He had not thrown up in a week and he was currently absolutely starving. "I think I'm in the mood for a hotdog."

"Now that's daring," Nathan exclaimed, amused and a little relieved at the thought of his brother actually eating for once. "Okay then, I'm game for it. I passed a vendor on my way over."

Nathan's hotdog was relatively plain compared to his baby brother's, and he resisted even smiling at all the condiments stacked onto Peter's steaming hot meal.

"Daring indeed," Peter said in agreement as they went to sit down at another bench. "I'm glad we're getting along again," the nurse said between mouthfuls of his lunch.

He happened to glance at the vendor nearby and saw a familiar person ordering her own hotdog.

"Me too," Nathan's own voice caught his attention.

The woman who had sat on the bench next to his while he was waiting for Nathan once again remained in proximity of the two brothers, throwing furtive glances in their direction when she obviously thought neither would notice. This, however, did not go undetected by Peter. Every time he turned around to see what she was doing, she pretended to be busy with her meal, despite the fact that she had only taken a single bite or two out of her hot dog.

"That woman over there is following me," Peter told his brother, nodding discreetly at his new stalker. "What if she's a reporter, or something? Or what if she comes from The Company and wants to capture me so they can study me?"

"Are you sure?" Nathan inquired, as he had not noticed anything involving the woman until his brother had mentioned her.

"You can't be serious. She was staring at me the whole time I waited for you." Peter continued to glance at her, though she had realized her error and was now turned away from them. "See?"

"Have you seen anything on her that might be a camera?" Nathan asked, now becoming suspicious of the lady's behavior.

"No..." the younger man replied. He wondered if they should leave, but what could they do if she tried anything? His powers were asleep now while he was pregnant, and Nathan could not just take off in the middle of the park where everyone could witness it.

"Then I don't think she's a reporter," Nathan stated.
"What does she want then?" Peter's voice sounded anxious, even frightened. "What if she knows who I am? Where I live! She could"--

"There's only one way to find out," Nathan interrupted his babbling little brother and stood up, ready to confront the mysterious woman who was paying such close attention to Peter.

"Nathan, no way!" Peter exclaimed, now practically panicking. "Sit down!"

Nathan merely shrugged off the hand his brother reached out to stop him and headed in direction of the woman, who had now abandoned her hot dog entirely.

Peter, nearly done with his own, shoved it into his mouth worried beyond reason as to how this decision by his brother would play out. Nathan stood solidly like a statue before the woman, speaking to her with a presence which made it clear that he was made for congress. She stood, and Peter could tell that despite her professional attitude, she seemed nervous in front of Nathan. Perhaps she had been hoping to only talk with the nurse alone.

After hearing what she had to say, the older brother turned to look at Peter, a puzzled look on his face. Just as puzzled, and still agitated, Peter crumpled a napkin in his hands as the two walked back to him.

Immediately the woman extended her hand to him, a look of childish amazement on her middle-aged face. Peter hesitantly offered her his hand, and she shook it with great enthusiasm.

"Peter Petrelli? I'm Doctor Roberta Cusack. It's such an honour to meet you!"

Peter frowned, feeling the impulse to snatch his hand back. "What are you talking about? How do you know me?"

"You're pregnant!" she exclaimed, gesturing dramatically at his abdominal area. "I just can't believe my luck in finding anot"—

She cut herself short, obviously regretting what she had begun to say and quickly changed the subject. "How far along are you? Five months? Six? Your brother here told me that you have the power to mimic the abilities of other special people."

Peter instantly shot his brother a look which demanded to know how much had been revealed to the woman.

"She's a telepath, Pete," he said in a reassuring tone. "She understands about abilities."

Looking slightly overwhelmed, Peter looked at her again. "Uhmmm... six?"

"Oh good, good. I thought so," she replied. "It's a little difficult to explain in the middle of a public space, but in short, I tended to someone who had the same ability as you. Do you know him?"

Peter shook his head as Nathan explained. "He has no idea who he got this from. He thinks he just walked past him one day."

"It's New York," Cusack said in agreement, "you never know who you're going to come across..."

"Wait..." Peter said, trying to take in all the new information at once. "You said you found another... where is he?"

The woman's face went from exhilarated to sad in an instant, and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady and trembling. "I'm afraid he... died," she began. "At first everything was going fine, and we both believed he would come out okay, but... He lost too much blood. I couldn't save him. He died giving birth."

The simple words were enough to suck the air from Peter's lungs, causing a constriction in his chest. Gasping for breath, his legs gave way and he started sinking to the ground, unable to prevent the fall.

Nathan reacted when Peter was already kneeling in the grass. He caught his brother, crying out Peter's name, watching in horror at the deathly pale shade Peter's face had taken on.

"I'm going to die..." the younger man rasped, now held up only by his brother's arms. "I'm... going to..."

Before he could speak any further, he threw up the lunch he had enjoyed so much only minutes ago.

Dr. Cusack covered her mouth with a hand, clearly sympathetic of the young man's plight. "I'm so sorry to say it, but it's true."

"Is that the only reason why you're here?" Nathan growled angrily. "You'll just be on your way then, unless you know how to help?"

"Actually I do," she urged. "I want to help you, I really do. I don't suppose you've found any other doctors who can or will help him?"

Eyes closed in defeat, Nathan answered, "no."

"Then I hate to sound arrogant, but I'm his best chance," she replied.

Nathan looked around, distressed, and noticed that several people were now staring at them. Murmurs that were clearly curious or suspicious sounded as well. He could only hope that no one had recognized him yet.

"We need to get him out of here," the older Petrelli sighed in despair, cradling Peter's limp head on his arm. The young man's eyes had rolled up in his head and he seemed borderline unconscious.

"We can take him to my clinic," Cusack said quickly. "I have an ultrasound machine we could use to examine him."

Nathan wasn't yet sure he could fully trust this woman, but right now he really had no choice. And she was probably right in being Peter's best chance.

"Alright... But if you hurt him..." The underlying threat could not be missed. He worked his arms in underneath Peter's lax body and made sure he had a thorough hold before lifting his brother.

***

As Peter felt himself slowly drifting into full consciousness, he heard a familiar and comforting voice say, "welcome back." He opened his eyes and discovered himself lying on his back, back propped up by pillows and clothes removed down to the waist. The place was unfamiliar, but clearly it was a room in some kind of medical building.

"Nathan...?"

"Yeah, it's me," his brother said, sitting in a stool at his side, hands over his. "You went a little weird at the park, so we brought you here."

"...'we'?" he inquired before he remembered the woman. The woman who had met them and knew what had happened, who had told Peter that he might...

"I feel sick," he said, grimacing at the thought of his very possible fate. A hand combed through his hair and lips touched on his forehead.

"We'll get through this, buddy," Nathan said soothingly as he did his best to comfort Peter. "I promise you. I will not let you die."

"I don't believe you make that decision..." Peter said in a small, frightened voice. He was convinced that he had two months left to live, maybe three.

"I'm not letting you leave me, Pete. You were never destined to die at twenty-seven."

There was a brief knock on the door to the examination room, and Doctor Cusack entered. She smiled when she saw Peter huddling against his brother's frame.

"Good thing you're awake now. We might as well do the ultrasound now and get it over with."

Laying back down against the hospital standard bed, Peter tried to appear calm, but his grip on Nathan's sleeve tightened. The thought of Peter dying still weighed heavily on his mind, and he was certain it did the same for his brother.

Cusack looked clearly apologetic but managed a smile when she wheeled the bed over to a wall where the ultrasound machine stood. Though he was half naked, the young nurse had a sheet covering his front, and he hesitantly pushed it off of him, goose pimples clear on his skin.

"I'm afraid this will be a little cold," Doctor Cusack announced and she pulled on some rubber gloves and picked up a large tube of gel.

"I've felt worse, I'm sure," Peter said, remembering his night in the alley. Even with that in mind, he flinched under the chilly nature of the gel as it was squirted onto his belly.

Peter had never worked in prenatal care, so his knowledge of how this worked was very limited. He had read about the procedure once in his gynecology textbook, but that was long ago, and he'd never really paid attention to any of it. Why should he have? He didn't plan on becoming a midwife, or... or getting pregnant himself. Damn.

Cusack gently put the transducer on the swell of his abdomen and Peter couldn't help but flinch. "There," the physician said, pointing to a blurry, seemingly vibrating area on the screen. "That's your baby, Peter. Can you see it?"

Both brothers gazed intently at the sonogram, but neither could see anything more than black and grey blurs.

"I... think so..." Peter answered. "Which part is that?"

"Right here," the doctor informed, pointing at the largest blurry shape, "is the head. And if you follow that down, you'll see the arms and hands. It's sucking its thumb!"

"Adorable," Nathan said, and he could not hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"How... healthy is it?" Peter inquired. "Can you tell from this?"

"Well, I can adjust the focus, but only a little more. We might be able to get a better picture..." The look on the doctor's face was uncertain, however, and that worried the young man a great deal.

"What can you tell from the current picture?" Peter asked, now dominated by his anxiety. Since the baby was inbred, there was a great risk it would be far from healthy or normal, and if that were the case, he wanted to know. Of course he couldn't tell Cusack about the reasons for his paranoia and hoped she would not be smart enough to figure it out on her own.

"Well..." she cocked her head, passing her eyes over the screen. "I can tell from the nuchal translucency thickness that it most likely does not have Down syndrome... Nor does it have spina bifida. That's when the"--

"...incomplete closure of the neural tube, yes, I know," Peter interrupted. "Anything else?"

"Is there anything I should be looking for?" she asked. Peter remained silent, but his voice still ran through her mind.

Deformed... freak...

She had heard the words as though Peter had truly spoken them, and when she turned her head to look at him, he realized the same.
"Mr. Petrelli, is there any particular reason why you're worried the baby might be seriously deformed?"

Swallowing, Peter looked aside. "I... I just... if I survive this thing... I don't want to keep it. I want to give it away."

Lifting an eyebrow, Doctor Cusack pressed on. "Is there something from the father which might cause it to be deformed?"

"I... I really don't want to talk about it," Peter murmured in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.

The doctor sighed. "Mr. Petrelli, listen to me... In order to help you, I you need to give me honest answers. I could go through your head, but I'd rather not do that."

In an instant Peter looked both shocked and angry. "Don't go in my head!" he snapped.

"Alright, I won't. But you must let me know why you believe your baby to be deformed. Who is the father?"

"I'm sorry, but that's private..." the young man whispered and felt his face go heat up. "I... I don't want to talk about it, alright?"

"It's alright, Pete," Nathan spoke up, and he ignored the stunned, irate look on his brother's face, one that silently demanded to know what was wrong with the lawyer.

Putting forth an unhappy expression, Nathan looked the woman straight in the eye. "Peter had an encounter with someone... I mean to say that, well... he was raped."

Cusack glanced at the younger brother, but Peter had covered his face with his hands again, and thus his emotion was unreadable.

"He hadn't known about this new power when it happened, and we think whoever that was is the father."

Still suspicious, the middle aged woman nodded gravely. "I can see why you'd rather not keep the baby for yourself."

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, not quite done deciding if he was angry with Nathan or not. Supposedly being pregnant from a rape was not as bad or shameful as being pregnant with a sibling, but the current problem seemed to be whether or not Cusack had believed them. The woman certainly wasn't unintelligent.

"Alright, Peter," she said, removing the transducer from Peter's belly. "That's enough for today. Also, to find out more about your...anatomy, I'd also like to perform a rectoscopy. Will you be alright with that?"

Sighing, the nurse nodded. He knew what this entailed; she would use an instrument known as a rectoscope to investigate his back channel. He'd been through it before and knew how unpleasant it was.

As she prepared, the doctor continued with her explanation. "My experience with the previous patient has of course left me with much to expect from your examination. If you've developed like he did, your ability should have prepared you for delivery."

"How?" Peter asked, confused. "Am I going to have a vagina soon or something?"

"Well, not technically," Cusack replied. She then prepared the rectoscope. "The uterus which has grown in you is attached to your colon. When you go into labor, you'll start to secrete a chemical which will tell you to basically open up and dilate for the baby to come through."

Brow knitted at the answer, Peter interrupted the lecture. "Wait... so I'm going to give birth through my ass?"

"Afraid so, honey." Switching on a new monitor which was hooked up to the rectoscope, she moved in between Peter's spread legs. "Ready?"


"I'd be lying if I said no..." Peter said, bracing himself for the unpleasant experience.
The instrument itself was cold, and so was the lubricant she had applied onto it. Peter whimpered when it was inserted into him, although slowly. Nathan was still present, standing rigidly on his right side, hand on Peter's neck. After about six inches of the rectoscope was inside, the motion stopped.

Cusack seemed pleased with her findings. "Oh, yes, you've developed exactly like my previous patient. Even the lining of your colon has started becoming like that of a cervix."

"Now that's... gross," Nathan said.

"Would you say the same if it was your asshole?" Peter asked, irritated. The hand on his neck massaged lightly, thumb rubbing the base of Peter's skull.

"Of course I would," he said, grinning.

Suddenly a rhythmic beeping filled the air and Nathan was instantly fishing through his pockets. Noticing who it was from, his face read disappointment.

"Shit," he exclaimed, looking at his watch. "My break's over. I have to get back to work, but..."

Peter shrugged, "Obviously I'm not done yet. Go ahead, I'll be fine."

"I promise I'll treat your brother well," Cusack added, smiling. "He's in good hands."

"I hope so," Nathan replied, cocking an eyebrow.

Once Nathan had gone, the doctor's countenance became serious again, and she took a seat in the chair Nathan had sat in while waiting for Peter to regain consciousness.

"I believe we need to talk, Mr. Petrelli," she said gravely.

"Oh please, call me Peter," the nurse said with a shrug. "'Mr. Petrelli' sounds so awfully formal. Suits my brother more than me."

"Alright, then, Peter..." She cleared her throat. "Your brother is actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"You two seem very close. That's good. At least you have someone to help you through this."


"So what's the problem?" Peter failed to keep the hostility out of his voice. He didn't like it when outsiders interfered with his relationship to Nathan.

"Tell me the truth now, Peter. Just between us two. The child you're expecting is your brother’s, isn't it?"

The annoyed expression Peter once had faltered and he looked away. Looking incredibly vulnerable, he tried to hide his eyes behind the long dark bangs, in case the conversation would upset him to the point of crying.

"Yes."

Didn't want this to happen, Cusack heard him think.

"Did he... force you?" she asked carefully, assuming Nathan had.

"No!" Peter snapped. "He would never do that!"

Brow wrinkled in confusion, Doctor Cusack spoke her thoughts. "Then... would that mean...? Good lord."

"Yeah, say it!" Peter growled, angry at where this conversation had gone. "Just say it already. I fuck my brother. And now I'm having his baby, because me and my brother regularly fuck."

Cusack looked to be at a loss for words. Peter continued to glare angrily and reproachfully at her for making him reveal his secret.

"Peter..." she slowly began, "I'm not one to judge you. And I'll still do my utmost to help you, never doubt it... But you must understand that this comes as quite a shock to me."

"Yes, yes, fine, fine..." Peter muttered. "We're incestuous freaks. Just say it. But I have to say that there are worse things out there than our very consensual relationship."

The doctor bit her lip. She obviously wasn't done asking questions. "How long have you two been...? I mean..."

"We had sex the first time when I was almost seventeen," the nurse told her. "God, just thinking about him gave me a hard-on back then... But we didn't go all the way until I was nineteen. I wanted to do it earlier, but Nathan was afraid he'd hurt me."

A minute or so passed in deafening silence. Cusack finally cleared her throat. "So... that's why you were worried about deformity."

"And why I don't want to keep it," Peter added.

"Is it also because it's proof of your relationship with your brother?"

Peter sighed. "Yes, that too. I feel like some girl in high school when I say this, but... I can't take care of any kids right now. Especially one with special needs. It needs to be with someone who can take care of it. And someone who actually wants it."

"I see..." the doctor said, sounding uncertain. Yet, she placed a hand over his own as a means of comfort.

"I didn't want this to happen. I didn't think could..."

Cusack managed a sad smile. "Kind of proves everything's possible, huh?"

Peter sighed, looking hopeless.

"Just tell me one thing, Peter..." the doctor said. "Once you've gotten through this pregnancy, I trust that you will take precautions to make sure it doesn't happen again, won't you?"

"Of course!" Peter immediately agreed. "Nathan and I will use protection from now on."

The woman sighed, wanting to point out that the safest way to ensure it wouldn't happen again was to end the incestuous relationship altogether, but she did not want to get into an argument with her patient. Peter was vulnerable enough as it was.

"What about your parents, Peter? Do they know the truth?"

"My father's dead."

"... I'm sorry," she responded. "I don't know much about your brother, let alone your family history. Not a voter..."

Peter shrugged.

"Your mother?"

"I'm surprised she doesn't know I kept it," the young man answered, wiping what was left of the gel off of his stomach with some paper towels on the table nearby. "She knows about our abilities. When she found out about this thing, she arranged an appointment to get rid of it. As you can see..." he trailed off, gesturing at his current state.

"Couldn't go through with it?"

"I would've... but I was scared. I thought something might go wrong. And here we are. I'm beginning to regret my decision."

"It's a tough decision to make."

Another minute of silence passed before Peter spoke up once more. "I know there's the whole patient/physician confidentiality thing but... if I'm not prying, who was the patient who had this before me?"

Doctor Cusack contemplated her answer for a few seconds. "Since he's dead, I suppose there's no harm in telling you," she finally admitted. "His name was Michael. He was young, younger than you. Just a child, really. I found out about him by accident. He collapsed in a department store, and I was the only doctor available, so..."

She made a brief pause, the memories clearly painful for her. "He was a very sweet boy. Quiet but sweet. He had gotten pregnant from a boyfriend who didn't want anything to do with him after he found out what was happening. He had no one. Poor thing... He was all alone."

"What about his family? Couldn't they be there for him?"

"His parents had disowned him due to his sexual orientation. They never even found out what happened."

"Well..." Peter started, unsure of what to say, "... how old?"

"Seventeen."

"God."

"Yes, too young to go through any of that, let alone pass on. It was a bit of a chance for me to take him in, but I let him live with me. Being a doctor and having discovered this telepathy, I couldn't help but want to take care of him. And he was more than willing to have me poke and prod at him. We were both beginners, so to speak."

Peter could not bear to think of dying at such a young age, like Cusack had said. He was also glad and quite grateful he had a family who could be so accepting, especially one so concerned about self image.

"What happened to his baby?"

Roberta Cusack looked aside for a moment as though deep in thought, and finally smiled.
"I think I ought to show you something."

She left the room for a moment, promising to be back shortly, and Peter couldn't help but dreading at what she wanted to show him. How had Michael's baby come out? Had she stored the foetus in a jar somewhere? Horrific mental images of bug-eyed babies stored in formaldehyde filled his mind, and he had to pinch his eyes shut and shake his head to get rid of them. In fact, he still had his eyes closed when Cusack returned and her voice, saying his name, startled him.

The nurse's jaw practically dropped when he saw what the woman was carrying in her arms.

"Peter, I'd like to introduce you to Michael's daughter."

To think that a man had birthed this child was surreal. She sleepily regarded her surroundings as she sat securely in Doctor Cusack's arms, chubby hands subconsciously fingering a wrinkle of cloth in the woman's blouse. She had bright blue eyes and what looked like the softest bit of fluffy infant hair imaginable on her round head. She made a spit bubble as she whimpered at the doctor.

"Aww, who's hungry after her nap, sweetness?" Cusack asked of the little infant, then looked at Peter as she walked towards him. "She's about six months old. Her name is Hope."

"H-Hope...?" Peter asked, voice trembling.

"Yes," the doctor said, still smiling. "Would you like to hold her?"

Peter shook his head, holding up his hands in protest. "I really don't think that I should"—

Before he could go further, however, Cusack had already dumped the infant on his lap, and Peter had no choice but to grab on to her to keep her from falling. The baby girl reached out to him and put her small, chubby and impossibly soft hands against his face while gurgling pleasantly.

"Look, she likes you," Cusack commented amusedly.

Somehow she had expected anything but the look which now washed over Peter's face. He looked absolutely miserable.

"How are you?" he finally asked the infant, putting out a finger for her tiny digits to wrap around. Her grip was strong, something which had always fascinated the young man.

"Hey there."

She cooed at him in a way that sounded like she was trying to imitate his greeting. Her feet knocked against Peter's belly as she wiggled in amusement at her new company. The kick was returned by the Petrelli brother's own offspring.

"Even if it ended up looking like her," he finally said, "I'd still give it away. Nathan and I were never planning on children. How could we?"


Cusack wanted to speak her opinion about the brothers' relationship, but she kept her mouth shut, sitting beside Peter and joining in the entertainment of the baby.

"I have a file on Michael," she finally said. "Would you like to see some of what I took down?"

To this, Peter could only shake his head. "No thanks. I don't wanna know," he said quietly. "Ignorance is bliss, is what they say..."

"How about some photos, then?" Cusack asked. "I... I even have the birth itself on tape, in case you'd like to... Though it pains me to no end, I've been forcing myself to watch it a few times, trying to figure out what I did wrong."

"It probably wasn't anything you did," Peter said. "This whole ability is beyond fucked up. Men aren't supposed to birth babies."

"If I'd known what to do, I could have tried harder," she insisted, still refusing to let go of the blame for Michael's death. "How about those photos, Peter? Would you like to see them?"

The nurse shrugged. "Sure, whatever... At least I'll know how big I might get..."

Cusack had to laugh at her new patient's attitude and stood to leave the room, leaving Peter to continue holding the infant. Hope was now blowing spit bubbles on his shoulder and hair and even talking to herself, which suited Peter just fine. At least she was not crying. He had heard horror stories of careless young girls still in a student's age who could barely get through their years of education because of the demands a baby naturally made. It was a wonder most of them did not go crazy from it all.

"Speaking of size," Doctor Cusack said as she entered the room again, a rather thick folder under her arm, "I'm hoping the nausea has worn away by now. You look like you could do with a few more pounds before the baby totally sucks you dry. Ah, here we are..."

She quickly turned to a marked set of images taken over the time she had come to know her first patient. Some looked more like they might be family album photographs while others were larger and more inclined to a real physician's case file. She handed Peter a small set of photos of Michael from the shoulders down. The young man stood in the images in profile and frontal view, his arms up to give a clear display of his rather large, globelike stomach.

"Why didn't you do a C-section?" Peter suddenly asked. "Why did you let him give birth? You could have cut the baby out of him, couldn't you?"

Cusack shook her head. "No, no, that would have been too dangerous. You see, Hope didn't grow inside an actual uterus... at least not a uterus like the one we women have. Michael's foetus, and yours as well, was located inside the peritonial cavity, which makes any sort of invasive procedure very complicated. I didn't have the proper means or equipment or drugs to..."

"Then what are you gonna do with me?" Peter pressed. "Wait till I have to give birth too and then watch me bleed to death?"

"Not if I can help it." She handed him a second batch of photos, these being full figure ones.

The uncomfortable face in these pictures stared out from the jarring imagery with undeniably sweet eyes. One hand held up his shirt, while the other was placed caringly on his expectant bulge.

"These were the day his contractions started," Cusack stated. "He was nervous, of course, but he was excited for it to finally be over. He was the one who named Hope."

The doctor's eyes flickered for a moment into sad remembrance. "He already had plans for her. Which schools she'd go to... things for fun that he did as a child..."

Hope had begun to nod off against Peter's shoulder once more, so Cusack took her so that she could rest in her crib. While the older woman was gone, Peter continued to stare at the photographs, both documentary and candid. He looked so familiar, especially in those where he stood next to Cusack, smiling and laughing.

"You can keep some of them, if you want," the physician said when she returned and found Peter immersed in looking through the pictures. "So that you can show your brother. I'm sure he'll be curious."

"I... I've met him," Peter murmured, studying the young boy's face with narrowed eyes. "I remember his face..."

Cusack looked surprised. "Really, Peter? When and where?"

"I was doing some extra hours at the hospital one weekend when he came in. Poor kid... I remembered him asking to see a fertility specialist." At the time it sounded odd, but it makes sense now. He was probably on to it then already. "The doctors dismissed him as a nutcase. I... I don't think they even tried to find out what was wrong with him."

The memory had been put aside in his mind for so long that it had totally escaped him when he first thought months ago about who in the hell could have been near him to give him this ability. Now that he could see the face so clearly in his mind, more and more came to him. The voice begging for help, followed by rejection and then the boy coming into view...

"I went to see what was the matter when I heard the commotion, what he had been asking for..." the young man placed a finger over the face in the photo, as though he could connect with the dead boy one last time. "He was crying when he left, and he shoved past me and ran down the hall... out the doors... That was the last I saw of him. I felt bad for him even then. Whatever he was going through, clearly he believed in it... it's a miracle that you met him."

Cusack looked sad, and her voice betrayed her feelings when she spoke. "Yes, it was. Truth to be told, he was more than a patient to me. He was like a son. I've never had any children of my own, and I never thought I'd get any maternal feelings at this age. How wrong I was... If only I'd been able to save him. Hope would have needed a mother. I'm too old to be the mother she needs."

"You could have just... given her up for adoption," Peter suggested carefully. He could only picture how hard it must be tending to an infant while managing a full time job as a physician at the same time.

"She's all I have left of Michael," she replied. "I made a promise to him. He wanted me to take care of Hope in case something happened to him, and I don't intend to break my word."

"I'm sorry," Peter felt the need to say. There was not really anything else he could think of.

"You know..." she said, gazing over a photograph of Michael and herself in an embrace, "before he died, all he cared about was her. He just kept asking, 'is she alright, is Hope alright'. He started out as just a kid, so scared. And by that moment he was much stronger than he ever thought he was."

Her hand reached out and took that of Peter. "Just like you. You're a very strong person. And not only that, but you have your brother. I think you'll survive this."

Peter sighed, looking away with his confidence clearly still in pieces. "It's a nice thought."

"More than that..." she glanced at a picture of Michael sitting at a kitchen counter, enjoying a mug of ice cream. "I think you should take one."

"Oh no, I couldn't," the young man replied, shaking his head. "These are yours, it's what you have of him."

"I also have Hope," she smiled, handing him the photo. "Take it for luck."


Cusack offered to give Peter a ride home after they were done with all tests, and he readily accepted, not wanting to waste more of Nathan's money on a cab. Besides, the fewer people that saw him in this condition, the better.

"Call me if you have any questions... or anything," she said, handing him her calling card.

He briefly studied the information on it. "You're a traumatologist?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, that is my specialty."

"So I guess this means you're not an obstetrician...?"

Cusack smirked and responded with, "let's just say that at this point that's my unofficial secondary practice."


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To be continued...