(no subject)
Title: "Wish I Didn't Need You"
Pairing: Adam Monroe/Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers through beginning of S3
Word Count: 1992
Notes: Written for Adam/Peter claim at un_love_you. Adam's escaped Hiro and knows he should disappear, but there's something he needs to take care of first. x-posted to changehistory, heroes_slash & puppet_master12.
The lock gave way easily under Adam's fingers. Some skills you never lost, even without practice, it seemed. He tsked lightly under his breath as he let himself into the dark apartment. Peter really could do with a better security system. There were dangerous people in the world, after all, and while the boy had the ability to take care of himself, Adam doubted that even now Peter was prepared for a surprise in his own home or to do what was necessary to defend himself.
As a point of fact, he was counting on it.
Closing the door behind him as silently as he'd opened it, Adam leaned against it and listened for a moment. The apartment felt empty, a heavy silence resting inside of it that settled around him like a blanket. He moved through the kitchen and living room, to push the bedroom door open slowly and confirm its vacantness. With a sigh, he relaxed a little and took a moment to survey his surroundings with more curiosity.
He would have expected some more personal touches to the place, but he supposed Peter was too busy saving the world to decorate. Adam wandered a careless circuit around the living room, fingers brushing over pictures, resisting the impulse to smash the frame on a family picture where everyone was smiling like life was perfect over the lies he knew the elder Petrelli's faces hid. A deep breath settled the urge, though, and he moved on, checking out the kitchen. Peter clearly hadn't replenished it from his time away, and all he found in the fridge was some mustard and a few pieces of fruit. In one cabinet, though, was a bottle of whiskey he'd lay odds Peter hadn't put there, and with a smirk he snagged the bottle and a glass and made his way back to the bedroom, stretching out on the bed and making himself comfortable.
Getting away from Hiro had been one of the simpler cons of the last century of his life. Had he had a weapon on him, he'd have laid in wait somewhere to end it, but barring that, he'd take escape. Being shuffled off to play lackey to Angela before being graciously allowed a cell with a window for the rest of his life wasn't how he planned to spend his newfound freedom. Of course, the smart thing would have been to have found somewhere to lay low, or to have left the country, disappeared under one of a dozen unknown aliases, never to be heard from again until those alive now were dust. Instead, he was here, in the apartment of the one person likely more pissed off at him than Hiro, who had more than enough power to ensure he ended up in said cell.
He'd always been a slave to his own obsessions.
The whiskey burned as it traveled down his throat, a familiar and welcome feeling, even if he drank only for the sensory memory these days than for any effective escape. Finishing the first glass, he poured a second, sitting in the unmade bad, listening to the sound of traffic on the street below, letting the stillness of the apartment settle around him. Waiting was something he was used to, and though anticipation coiled inside of him, he didn't let it morph into restlessness, but cleared his mind of any thought of failure and focused on the task to come. He'd brought the others together, before. He'd influenced them enough they still tried to carry out a watered down version of his plan thirty years later. He'd talked Peter around into getting them out of those cells, talked him around the doubts at Victoria's, overcome his uncertainty in the face of Hiro's accusations and his own confession to murdering Kaito. He'd gotten out of the coffin, escaped his warden, found his way here.
He was on his fourth glass of whiskey when the sound of a key turning in the lock made the knot in his stomach tighten, a flare of anticipation scuttling through him and making his blood burn like the whiskey. Peter's steps sounded heavier than they should, weighted down, and Adam tilted his head to listen, as if he could truly read the boy's mood through the shifting of feet on wood. Keys slid across the kitchen table; the fridge opened, hummed, then closed as a sigh echoed. Really, a trip to the grocery store was necessary, clearly, not that Adam intended them to be here long enough for it to matter. Footsteps again, a shadow in the doorway as it swung open, and the outline of a far too familiar form appeared. Peter was looking down, undoing the buttons of his shirt, but something must have alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone.
Wide brown eyes snapped to Adam's and his hand barely caught the searing blast Peter tossed his way, still on instinct it seemed. His skin sizzled, the smell of cooked flesh filling the room, even as it healed up again. Adam's eyes didn't even flicker in pain, just watching Peter's face instead.
"Hello, Peter."
"What are you doing here?"
Adam took a sip of the whiskey, then set the glass aside. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd drop by."
If looks could kill, and he could die, Adam thought he might be in trouble, but though Peter's fingers were curled into a fist and he seemed to be trembling slightly, he hadn't made a threatening move since that first lightning bolt. Adam took that as a good sign.
"Get out."
That was less of a good sign. Adam sat up from where he'd been sprawled, and crossed the distance between them with a lazy stride that was more like a prowl than a walk. Leaning against the bedroom door brought him very close to where Peter was standing and, indeed, trembling. Adam lifted his hand and ran his fingers down Peter's cheek in a careless caress. "Now, Peter, is that any way to greet a guest?"
"I didn't invite you." Peter said, stiffening slightly and shifting away.
Adam's fingers moved like a striking viper, to slide around the back of his neck and tug him back in, forcing Peter to meet his gaze. "I have had a very, very bad few weeks, Peter."
"Yeah? Well mine haven't really been all that great either," Peter shot back, though he didn't pull away. He could have, Adam knew. He was stronger, he could phase, hell, he could teleport out of Adam's grasp if he really wanted to, but he didn't. The tiniest of smirks curved the immortal's lips, but Peter didn't seem to notice. "Nathan was shot, and when I went after the shooter, it was me, from the future, and he stuck me in someone else's body, then sent me to the future to see how bad it was going to get if Nathan told everyone about us and this formula got out..."
Adam lifted his other hand to press his fingers over Peter's lips, quelling the words. "Hiro decided to bury me alive for kicks."
Something like horror flitted through Peter's eyes, Adam was pleased to see, though the boy finally moved to reach up and pull Adam's hand away from his mouth. "You killed his father. You tried to use me to release the virus." The words were laced with anger and accusation, betrayal and bewilderment.
"How bad did it get in this future you went to?" Adam asked.
"What?" Peter gave him a confused look.
"How bad did it get?"
"The world was going to explode," Peter said, going a little pale.
"Yes, well. Suddenly my plan isn't seeming so insane, is it? At least there's still an Earth and people to rebuild on it, instead of total annihilation."
Peter just stared at him. "You can't tell me you had some altruistic reason for wanting to release the virus."
"Why on Earth else would I want to?" Adam asked with an arch of his eyebrow. "I mean, honestly, Peter, do I strike you as completely insane, wanting to watch the world die just for kicks? Then what?"
Then, of course, he saved enough people to be called their hero and set up a new world order with him near to their god, but he doubted Peter would think that far, and as a troubled frown knit the boy's brow he could see he was right. Adam suppressed a sigh. The youth of today were so unambitious.
"You lied to me," Peter said, after a few moments, but the protest sounded less certain.
"I'm sorry," Adam lied again, slipping his fingers out of his hair to brush down his cheek.
Peter shook his head. "It's not that simple...all those people would have died because of me..."
"To save the world, Peter. Sometimes there have to be sacrifices made. I didn't have time to explain that to you..."
"That's too big of a sacrifice."
Adam suppressed a flash of impatience. He hadn't been tossed out of the apartment or teleported back to an empty grave or a barren cell. That had to be progress.
"What would you deem acceptable?" Adam's eyes searched his face, and saw the confusion there, the desperate need to believe it hadn't all been a lie. He could work with that. Leaning in, Adam brushed a kiss over his cheek. "Tell me, Peter, how would you save the world? Not just stop the next catastrophe, but truly save it from itself, from the wars killing the most innocent, most helpless, the famines wiping out the poorest while the richest nations glut themselves, the inequalities, the religious intolerance, the rising tide of plague...we have all these abilities, all these gifts placed in our hands. What would you do?"
Peter was silent for a long time, but Adam could feel him softening, the shift of his body closer. Those starved for attention and approval were always the easiest to pull in. "I don't know," the boy finally whispered, "But not that."
Adam pulled back enough to look at him. The virus was destroyed anyway, of that he was certain, and he didn't have a plan B of that magnitude on hand, anyway. Except in the power running through the cells of the boy standing so close to him now. One thing he'd learned through the centuries was that he couldn't do this alone. It was a very nice perk that the new weapon came in such a pretty package. Tugging him through the rest of the distance until he could feel the warmth of Peter's body driving away the residual chill from the grave, Adam lowered his head to nuzzle at his cheek.
"Not that," he murmured against his ear, agreeing in strictest fact, at least. "Something else then? Something you can agree to, something we decide on together, that you can live with...?"
There was a pause where he thought Peter might pull away again, the balance still too delicate for him to be certain he'd pulled him back in. Then he felt the nod, and a thrill of triumph ran through him. Peter shifted in his arms, twisting to look at his face, and Adam gave him a sweet, approving smile tracing his fingers down his face.
"You won't lie to me again? We make the decisions together this time." He was adorable, trying to sound so firm. It would be better if he could do this without Peter's morals on board, if he could walk away, maybe find that other boy he'd heard tell of with all the powers and none of the hangups. But his footsteps had led him here, and here he'd stay. He could make this work this time, keep the others from interfering. This time, he'd play his hand more carefully.
"Of course. I won't do anything without discussing it with you first," he lied.
Peter looked like he didn't believe him, but he wanted to, and the want won out over the doubt. Slowly he returned Adam's smile, and Adam felt that knot inside of him uncoil as he leaned in to seal the new deal with a kiss.
Pairing: Adam Monroe/Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers through beginning of S3
Word Count: 1992
Notes: Written for Adam/Peter claim at un_love_you. Adam's escaped Hiro and knows he should disappear, but there's something he needs to take care of first. x-posted to changehistory, heroes_slash & puppet_master12.
The lock gave way easily under Adam's fingers. Some skills you never lost, even without practice, it seemed. He tsked lightly under his breath as he let himself into the dark apartment. Peter really could do with a better security system. There were dangerous people in the world, after all, and while the boy had the ability to take care of himself, Adam doubted that even now Peter was prepared for a surprise in his own home or to do what was necessary to defend himself.
As a point of fact, he was counting on it.
Closing the door behind him as silently as he'd opened it, Adam leaned against it and listened for a moment. The apartment felt empty, a heavy silence resting inside of it that settled around him like a blanket. He moved through the kitchen and living room, to push the bedroom door open slowly and confirm its vacantness. With a sigh, he relaxed a little and took a moment to survey his surroundings with more curiosity.
He would have expected some more personal touches to the place, but he supposed Peter was too busy saving the world to decorate. Adam wandered a careless circuit around the living room, fingers brushing over pictures, resisting the impulse to smash the frame on a family picture where everyone was smiling like life was perfect over the lies he knew the elder Petrelli's faces hid. A deep breath settled the urge, though, and he moved on, checking out the kitchen. Peter clearly hadn't replenished it from his time away, and all he found in the fridge was some mustard and a few pieces of fruit. In one cabinet, though, was a bottle of whiskey he'd lay odds Peter hadn't put there, and with a smirk he snagged the bottle and a glass and made his way back to the bedroom, stretching out on the bed and making himself comfortable.
Getting away from Hiro had been one of the simpler cons of the last century of his life. Had he had a weapon on him, he'd have laid in wait somewhere to end it, but barring that, he'd take escape. Being shuffled off to play lackey to Angela before being graciously allowed a cell with a window for the rest of his life wasn't how he planned to spend his newfound freedom. Of course, the smart thing would have been to have found somewhere to lay low, or to have left the country, disappeared under one of a dozen unknown aliases, never to be heard from again until those alive now were dust. Instead, he was here, in the apartment of the one person likely more pissed off at him than Hiro, who had more than enough power to ensure he ended up in said cell.
He'd always been a slave to his own obsessions.
The whiskey burned as it traveled down his throat, a familiar and welcome feeling, even if he drank only for the sensory memory these days than for any effective escape. Finishing the first glass, he poured a second, sitting in the unmade bad, listening to the sound of traffic on the street below, letting the stillness of the apartment settle around him. Waiting was something he was used to, and though anticipation coiled inside of him, he didn't let it morph into restlessness, but cleared his mind of any thought of failure and focused on the task to come. He'd brought the others together, before. He'd influenced them enough they still tried to carry out a watered down version of his plan thirty years later. He'd talked Peter around into getting them out of those cells, talked him around the doubts at Victoria's, overcome his uncertainty in the face of Hiro's accusations and his own confession to murdering Kaito. He'd gotten out of the coffin, escaped his warden, found his way here.
He was on his fourth glass of whiskey when the sound of a key turning in the lock made the knot in his stomach tighten, a flare of anticipation scuttling through him and making his blood burn like the whiskey. Peter's steps sounded heavier than they should, weighted down, and Adam tilted his head to listen, as if he could truly read the boy's mood through the shifting of feet on wood. Keys slid across the kitchen table; the fridge opened, hummed, then closed as a sigh echoed. Really, a trip to the grocery store was necessary, clearly, not that Adam intended them to be here long enough for it to matter. Footsteps again, a shadow in the doorway as it swung open, and the outline of a far too familiar form appeared. Peter was looking down, undoing the buttons of his shirt, but something must have alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone.
Wide brown eyes snapped to Adam's and his hand barely caught the searing blast Peter tossed his way, still on instinct it seemed. His skin sizzled, the smell of cooked flesh filling the room, even as it healed up again. Adam's eyes didn't even flicker in pain, just watching Peter's face instead.
"Hello, Peter."
"What are you doing here?"
Adam took a sip of the whiskey, then set the glass aside. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd drop by."
If looks could kill, and he could die, Adam thought he might be in trouble, but though Peter's fingers were curled into a fist and he seemed to be trembling slightly, he hadn't made a threatening move since that first lightning bolt. Adam took that as a good sign.
"Get out."
That was less of a good sign. Adam sat up from where he'd been sprawled, and crossed the distance between them with a lazy stride that was more like a prowl than a walk. Leaning against the bedroom door brought him very close to where Peter was standing and, indeed, trembling. Adam lifted his hand and ran his fingers down Peter's cheek in a careless caress. "Now, Peter, is that any way to greet a guest?"
"I didn't invite you." Peter said, stiffening slightly and shifting away.
Adam's fingers moved like a striking viper, to slide around the back of his neck and tug him back in, forcing Peter to meet his gaze. "I have had a very, very bad few weeks, Peter."
"Yeah? Well mine haven't really been all that great either," Peter shot back, though he didn't pull away. He could have, Adam knew. He was stronger, he could phase, hell, he could teleport out of Adam's grasp if he really wanted to, but he didn't. The tiniest of smirks curved the immortal's lips, but Peter didn't seem to notice. "Nathan was shot, and when I went after the shooter, it was me, from the future, and he stuck me in someone else's body, then sent me to the future to see how bad it was going to get if Nathan told everyone about us and this formula got out..."
Adam lifted his other hand to press his fingers over Peter's lips, quelling the words. "Hiro decided to bury me alive for kicks."
Something like horror flitted through Peter's eyes, Adam was pleased to see, though the boy finally moved to reach up and pull Adam's hand away from his mouth. "You killed his father. You tried to use me to release the virus." The words were laced with anger and accusation, betrayal and bewilderment.
"How bad did it get in this future you went to?" Adam asked.
"What?" Peter gave him a confused look.
"How bad did it get?"
"The world was going to explode," Peter said, going a little pale.
"Yes, well. Suddenly my plan isn't seeming so insane, is it? At least there's still an Earth and people to rebuild on it, instead of total annihilation."
Peter just stared at him. "You can't tell me you had some altruistic reason for wanting to release the virus."
"Why on Earth else would I want to?" Adam asked with an arch of his eyebrow. "I mean, honestly, Peter, do I strike you as completely insane, wanting to watch the world die just for kicks? Then what?"
Then, of course, he saved enough people to be called their hero and set up a new world order with him near to their god, but he doubted Peter would think that far, and as a troubled frown knit the boy's brow he could see he was right. Adam suppressed a sigh. The youth of today were so unambitious.
"You lied to me," Peter said, after a few moments, but the protest sounded less certain.
"I'm sorry," Adam lied again, slipping his fingers out of his hair to brush down his cheek.
Peter shook his head. "It's not that simple...all those people would have died because of me..."
"To save the world, Peter. Sometimes there have to be sacrifices made. I didn't have time to explain that to you..."
"That's too big of a sacrifice."
Adam suppressed a flash of impatience. He hadn't been tossed out of the apartment or teleported back to an empty grave or a barren cell. That had to be progress.
"What would you deem acceptable?" Adam's eyes searched his face, and saw the confusion there, the desperate need to believe it hadn't all been a lie. He could work with that. Leaning in, Adam brushed a kiss over his cheek. "Tell me, Peter, how would you save the world? Not just stop the next catastrophe, but truly save it from itself, from the wars killing the most innocent, most helpless, the famines wiping out the poorest while the richest nations glut themselves, the inequalities, the religious intolerance, the rising tide of plague...we have all these abilities, all these gifts placed in our hands. What would you do?"
Peter was silent for a long time, but Adam could feel him softening, the shift of his body closer. Those starved for attention and approval were always the easiest to pull in. "I don't know," the boy finally whispered, "But not that."
Adam pulled back enough to look at him. The virus was destroyed anyway, of that he was certain, and he didn't have a plan B of that magnitude on hand, anyway. Except in the power running through the cells of the boy standing so close to him now. One thing he'd learned through the centuries was that he couldn't do this alone. It was a very nice perk that the new weapon came in such a pretty package. Tugging him through the rest of the distance until he could feel the warmth of Peter's body driving away the residual chill from the grave, Adam lowered his head to nuzzle at his cheek.
"Not that," he murmured against his ear, agreeing in strictest fact, at least. "Something else then? Something you can agree to, something we decide on together, that you can live with...?"
There was a pause where he thought Peter might pull away again, the balance still too delicate for him to be certain he'd pulled him back in. Then he felt the nod, and a thrill of triumph ran through him. Peter shifted in his arms, twisting to look at his face, and Adam gave him a sweet, approving smile tracing his fingers down his face.
"You won't lie to me again? We make the decisions together this time." He was adorable, trying to sound so firm. It would be better if he could do this without Peter's morals on board, if he could walk away, maybe find that other boy he'd heard tell of with all the powers and none of the hangups. But his footsteps had led him here, and here he'd stay. He could make this work this time, keep the others from interfering. This time, he'd play his hand more carefully.
"Of course. I won't do anything without discussing it with you first," he lied.
Peter looked like he didn't believe him, but he wanted to, and the want won out over the doubt. Slowly he returned Adam's smile, and Adam felt that knot inside of him uncoil as he leaned in to seal the new deal with a kiss.