(no subject)
Title: An Altercation, the Truth of Things, and Really Good Liars.
Author:
jessi_br00t4l
Characters: Nathan, Peter, Adam, and Hiro.
Pairings: Nathan/Peter, Adam/Peter
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, Spoilers for all of S2, Incestish undertones, character death. UNBETAED, any and all mistakes are my own, so feel free to point them out.
Disclaimer: My name is not Tim Kring.
Notes: I was just trying to write something a little longer and with a little more plot than I'm used to. It's kinda lame. I might do a sequel involving Nathan's reaction to the events in this fic.
I. AN ALTERCATION.
“I love him!”
Nathan felt a white hot anger bubbling up in his chest at Peter’s declaration. There was no was he was having this conversation with his little brother. There was just no fucking way. After everything they’d been through this past year and a half, he could not be hearing this. The man they were discussing wasn’t even worthy of the title ‘scum of the earth’.
“Are you out of your damn mind, Pete?!” Yelling at Peter wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but it was all he could do to not hit the guy. “You are not in love with Adam Monroe. He tried to kill us - he tried to wipe the whole human race off the mother fucking face of the earth!”
“I love him.” Oh, Jesus. Peter was pouting. He was full on kid-in-a-toy-store-not-getting-his-way pouting. His jaw was clenched in that familiar way that always meant he was trying not to cry. For some reason, Peter always tried ridiculously hard to look tough in front of Nathan. God, it was adorable, but he wasn’t buying it; not this time. He couldn’t accept that Peter even deemed that goddamned piece of shit worthy of his love. It was always this way though. Peter had a hero complex in all his relationships; he wanted to see the good in bad people and save them from their wicked ways or unsatisfactory circumstances. Sometimes, like now, it got more than a little annoying.
Nathan crossed the room and let heavy hands rest on his younger brother’s shoulders. It was the same gesture he used every time he had to scold or talk down to Peter. Every now and then, it was a sincere sentiment, since they’d long outgrown being comfortable hugging one another - at least, hugging one another in public. People always said their family was too affectionate, but, hey, they’re Italian.
“Listen to me Peter.” He let out a long breath and attempted sounding calm. “This guy tried to kill us. He tried to kill everyone. I’m sorry, but it seems to me that he’s not such a great person. He used you, manipulated you. I’m sure if I had died at that press conference, you’d be running to dig him up. And you know what he’d do? Probably kill you on the spot and then come after Me, Parkman, and Hiro.”
Peter just huffed and pouted some more. He was being so childish over this.
“C’mon, bro.” Nathan tightened his grip, lightly massaging the muscles in Peter’s shoulders, which had gotten much larger since the last time they’d gotten this close. “Don’t be like this. We both know that you don’t know what you want. You never have, and I’m sure you don’t now. Just because you put out for a guy and he calls you pretty, it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you. I keep trying to teach you that, but you just don’t listen.”
He tried pulling those shaking shoulders and everything attached to them into a hug, but he was shoved away - and he was frighteningly sure Peter had used his super strength to make it hurt a little.
“No! I do know what I want. I want Adam back. I want to go dig him up and teach him how to get along in this world. I want to feel him touching me again. I want to know that someone in this world can love me for me and not put me down the way you do! I want, no, I need to see him look at me like I’m the most important thing in the world again. He talks up to me, Nathan. Up. He doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid, or like I’m a child.”
He wasn’t hearing this. “Oh, please. Don’t be so ridicu-”
“He called me beautiful. Not pretty. Beautiful.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” This was starting to piss Nathan off. How dare someone, especially someone like Adam Monroe, tell Peter he was beautiful. He’d spent years making sure the boy believed that he was the only one who thought so. It wasn’t the most honorable of things to do, but it was the only thing he knew how to do. He needed Peter, after all.
“Goddamn it, Nate. You just can’t fucking stand that someone else might look at me and see something worth spending time one. You’re scared, because now I’m all grown up, with my own opinions and everything, and you don’t get to control me anymore. I’ve got a purpose now; a destiny. I don’t need you to tell me who I am. You had me thinking so all these years, but I never needed you to tell me who I am. You needed me. And you know what else? You’re fucking pathetic.”
Watching Peter turn to leave, Nathan suddenly felt as if he were the one locked inside a box buried six feet underground.
II. THE TRUTH OF THINGS.
“So, now you know the whole story.”
Hiro Nakamura hated seeing the troubled eyes of Peter Petrelli. The poor guy was obviously confused. He’d never known Adam as anything more than Adam. It wasn’t the most delightful task to inform him of the man’s former title of Takezo Kensei and his love of the princess that he, too, held a fondness for. However, most recent events were proving that not many tasks were very delightful when involving Peter. Since Hiro had buried Adam alive, the empath had become nothing short of a mess - and that was in more than just appearance.
“He-” The tears gathering on Peter’s eyelids were evident, though the orbs of hurt they concealed were cast downward to the floor. “He told me how old he was, but he never mentioned- He said I was the only person he’d ever loved. He said I made his long ass life worth living.” The slight curving upward of his lips indicated a pleasant memory.
“I’m very sorry. He was bad person. He lied to me, too.” Hiro was never great at pep talks.
Peter stood then, wiping his eyes on his sleeve before walking towards the door. “Okay.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just- I’ve gotta take care of something.” And with that, Peter Petrelli vanished into thin air. Hiro wasn’t sure if he’d gone invisible or if he’d bent time and space to make his exit. It was probably the latter, considering no doors opened or closed on their own.
III. REALLY GOOD LIARS.
Adam felt his coffin (how odd that he was referring to it as a possession of his) shake, and he had never felt more relieved. It was as if God himself, if God existed, had reached down and given him a pat on the shoulder. Bloody hell. He had been in here so long that he was entertaining the notion of the great beyond. He’d done fine while being held captive by the company, but that was acres of space compared to this. Someone broke his coffin wide open - a display of strength that could only be that of a person with ability. He squinted his eyes against the blinding light that was only mildly blocked by the silhouette of a man that he immediately recognized. His first instinct was to jump up and defend himself, but he would have no such luck. There was an invisible force weighing his entire body down. Telekinesis.
“What? No hug?”
That seemed to piss Peter off. Good thinking, Monroe.
“So I guess you’re just a really good liar?”
“Beg your pardon?”
His eyes began to adjust to the lighting and he could make out Peter’s pained expression. The boy chewed on his lip in the way he usually did when he was nervous or doubtful. That didn’t bode well for anyone. After everything he put the lad through, he probably deserved what as coming to him. Once Peter tossed him around a bit, he’d put him out of his misery.
“You told me- Damnit, Adam.”
Peter through his hands in the air in an expression that screamed I’m-giving-up.
“I told you?”
Adam had told him a great many things; it would help for Peter to be specific. Everything those wounded eyes were telling him everything he needed to know. It made up for Peter’s sudden decision to become a mute.
“I…. told…. you?”
“You told me I was beautiful.”
Was Peter a walking romantic comedy or something? He had this irritating tendency to make everything seem so damn dramatic. Adam had no idea how to begin responding to that. It was an adorably bittersweet remark and it was far too obvious that the younger man wanted to hear that it was the truth. He could do that. Calling Peter beautiful wasn’t exactly a falsehood to start with.
“Well, you are.”
“No. No, no, no, no.” Peter looked frantic, wagging his finger like a school teacher or a disappointed mother. “You told me that I made your life worth living. You told me I was important. You told me you believed in me. You told me I was your happily ever after. You told-” His voice broke.
There was silence then, following the tears sliding their way over Peter’s cheeks. Adam couldn’t breathe - or rather, he didn’t want to. It sort of hurt to breathe. He’d done a great deal of horrible things during his time on this earth, but making this gentle, heroic, gorgeous creature cry was not something he’d ever expected. Each tear that tore down Peter’s face felt like a dagger tearing through his heart. Christ Almighty, how cliché did he sound? That was Peter’s fault; he made Adam say stupid cliché things like that all the time. It was a detail he preferred to ignore.
“I told you a lot of things, sweetheart. And, yes, many of those things were lies.” Another hurt puppy look from those soft eyes, and Adam was sure his heart just ripped in half. “But I meant it, when I told you that you were beautiful. You are beautiful. I know I hurt you, and there’s probably nothing I can say to fix that. Perhaps we could start from scratch.” He thought a moment about how what he was going to say didn’t exactly work well with his current disposition. “I’d shake your hand and say ‘Hi, I’m Adam Monroe’, but you kind of have me pinned.”
The relenting upward curve of Peter’s lips was all he needed. Adam was finally able to lift himself out of that fucking cramped hell hole. It was never too hard to trick this one. But, he didn’t get too far.
The shovel came down with unforgiving force and the last thing Adam Monroe saw, after four hundred years of greatness, was the bottom of Peter Petrelli’s shoe.
Author:
jessi_br00t4l
Characters: Nathan, Peter, Adam, and Hiro.
Pairings: Nathan/Peter, Adam/Peter
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, Spoilers for all of S2, Incestish undertones, character death. UNBETAED, any and all mistakes are my own, so feel free to point them out.
Disclaimer: My name is not Tim Kring.
Notes: I was just trying to write something a little longer and with a little more plot than I'm used to. It's kinda lame. I might do a sequel involving Nathan's reaction to the events in this fic.
I. AN ALTERCATION.
“I love him!”
Nathan felt a white hot anger bubbling up in his chest at Peter’s declaration. There was no was he was having this conversation with his little brother. There was just no fucking way. After everything they’d been through this past year and a half, he could not be hearing this. The man they were discussing wasn’t even worthy of the title ‘scum of the earth’.
“Are you out of your damn mind, Pete?!” Yelling at Peter wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but it was all he could do to not hit the guy. “You are not in love with Adam Monroe. He tried to kill us - he tried to wipe the whole human race off the mother fucking face of the earth!”
“I love him.” Oh, Jesus. Peter was pouting. He was full on kid-in-a-toy-store-not-getting-his-way pouting. His jaw was clenched in that familiar way that always meant he was trying not to cry. For some reason, Peter always tried ridiculously hard to look tough in front of Nathan. God, it was adorable, but he wasn’t buying it; not this time. He couldn’t accept that Peter even deemed that goddamned piece of shit worthy of his love. It was always this way though. Peter had a hero complex in all his relationships; he wanted to see the good in bad people and save them from their wicked ways or unsatisfactory circumstances. Sometimes, like now, it got more than a little annoying.
Nathan crossed the room and let heavy hands rest on his younger brother’s shoulders. It was the same gesture he used every time he had to scold or talk down to Peter. Every now and then, it was a sincere sentiment, since they’d long outgrown being comfortable hugging one another - at least, hugging one another in public. People always said their family was too affectionate, but, hey, they’re Italian.
“Listen to me Peter.” He let out a long breath and attempted sounding calm. “This guy tried to kill us. He tried to kill everyone. I’m sorry, but it seems to me that he’s not such a great person. He used you, manipulated you. I’m sure if I had died at that press conference, you’d be running to dig him up. And you know what he’d do? Probably kill you on the spot and then come after Me, Parkman, and Hiro.”
Peter just huffed and pouted some more. He was being so childish over this.
“C’mon, bro.” Nathan tightened his grip, lightly massaging the muscles in Peter’s shoulders, which had gotten much larger since the last time they’d gotten this close. “Don’t be like this. We both know that you don’t know what you want. You never have, and I’m sure you don’t now. Just because you put out for a guy and he calls you pretty, it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you. I keep trying to teach you that, but you just don’t listen.”
He tried pulling those shaking shoulders and everything attached to them into a hug, but he was shoved away - and he was frighteningly sure Peter had used his super strength to make it hurt a little.
“No! I do know what I want. I want Adam back. I want to go dig him up and teach him how to get along in this world. I want to feel him touching me again. I want to know that someone in this world can love me for me and not put me down the way you do! I want, no, I need to see him look at me like I’m the most important thing in the world again. He talks up to me, Nathan. Up. He doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid, or like I’m a child.”
He wasn’t hearing this. “Oh, please. Don’t be so ridicu-”
“He called me beautiful. Not pretty. Beautiful.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” This was starting to piss Nathan off. How dare someone, especially someone like Adam Monroe, tell Peter he was beautiful. He’d spent years making sure the boy believed that he was the only one who thought so. It wasn’t the most honorable of things to do, but it was the only thing he knew how to do. He needed Peter, after all.
“Goddamn it, Nate. You just can’t fucking stand that someone else might look at me and see something worth spending time one. You’re scared, because now I’m all grown up, with my own opinions and everything, and you don’t get to control me anymore. I’ve got a purpose now; a destiny. I don’t need you to tell me who I am. You had me thinking so all these years, but I never needed you to tell me who I am. You needed me. And you know what else? You’re fucking pathetic.”
Watching Peter turn to leave, Nathan suddenly felt as if he were the one locked inside a box buried six feet underground.
II. THE TRUTH OF THINGS.
“So, now you know the whole story.”
Hiro Nakamura hated seeing the troubled eyes of Peter Petrelli. The poor guy was obviously confused. He’d never known Adam as anything more than Adam. It wasn’t the most delightful task to inform him of the man’s former title of Takezo Kensei and his love of the princess that he, too, held a fondness for. However, most recent events were proving that not many tasks were very delightful when involving Peter. Since Hiro had buried Adam alive, the empath had become nothing short of a mess - and that was in more than just appearance.
“He-” The tears gathering on Peter’s eyelids were evident, though the orbs of hurt they concealed were cast downward to the floor. “He told me how old he was, but he never mentioned- He said I was the only person he’d ever loved. He said I made his long ass life worth living.” The slight curving upward of his lips indicated a pleasant memory.
“I’m very sorry. He was bad person. He lied to me, too.” Hiro was never great at pep talks.
Peter stood then, wiping his eyes on his sleeve before walking towards the door. “Okay.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just- I’ve gotta take care of something.” And with that, Peter Petrelli vanished into thin air. Hiro wasn’t sure if he’d gone invisible or if he’d bent time and space to make his exit. It was probably the latter, considering no doors opened or closed on their own.
III. REALLY GOOD LIARS.
Adam felt his coffin (how odd that he was referring to it as a possession of his) shake, and he had never felt more relieved. It was as if God himself, if God existed, had reached down and given him a pat on the shoulder. Bloody hell. He had been in here so long that he was entertaining the notion of the great beyond. He’d done fine while being held captive by the company, but that was acres of space compared to this. Someone broke his coffin wide open - a display of strength that could only be that of a person with ability. He squinted his eyes against the blinding light that was only mildly blocked by the silhouette of a man that he immediately recognized. His first instinct was to jump up and defend himself, but he would have no such luck. There was an invisible force weighing his entire body down. Telekinesis.
“What? No hug?”
That seemed to piss Peter off. Good thinking, Monroe.
“So I guess you’re just a really good liar?”
“Beg your pardon?”
His eyes began to adjust to the lighting and he could make out Peter’s pained expression. The boy chewed on his lip in the way he usually did when he was nervous or doubtful. That didn’t bode well for anyone. After everything he put the lad through, he probably deserved what as coming to him. Once Peter tossed him around a bit, he’d put him out of his misery.
“You told me- Damnit, Adam.”
Peter through his hands in the air in an expression that screamed I’m-giving-up.
“I told you?”
Adam had told him a great many things; it would help for Peter to be specific. Everything those wounded eyes were telling him everything he needed to know. It made up for Peter’s sudden decision to become a mute.
“I…. told…. you?”
“You told me I was beautiful.”
Was Peter a walking romantic comedy or something? He had this irritating tendency to make everything seem so damn dramatic. Adam had no idea how to begin responding to that. It was an adorably bittersweet remark and it was far too obvious that the younger man wanted to hear that it was the truth. He could do that. Calling Peter beautiful wasn’t exactly a falsehood to start with.
“Well, you are.”
“No. No, no, no, no.” Peter looked frantic, wagging his finger like a school teacher or a disappointed mother. “You told me that I made your life worth living. You told me I was important. You told me you believed in me. You told me I was your happily ever after. You told-” His voice broke.
There was silence then, following the tears sliding their way over Peter’s cheeks. Adam couldn’t breathe - or rather, he didn’t want to. It sort of hurt to breathe. He’d done a great deal of horrible things during his time on this earth, but making this gentle, heroic, gorgeous creature cry was not something he’d ever expected. Each tear that tore down Peter’s face felt like a dagger tearing through his heart. Christ Almighty, how cliché did he sound? That was Peter’s fault; he made Adam say stupid cliché things like that all the time. It was a detail he preferred to ignore.
“I told you a lot of things, sweetheart. And, yes, many of those things were lies.” Another hurt puppy look from those soft eyes, and Adam was sure his heart just ripped in half. “But I meant it, when I told you that you were beautiful. You are beautiful. I know I hurt you, and there’s probably nothing I can say to fix that. Perhaps we could start from scratch.” He thought a moment about how what he was going to say didn’t exactly work well with his current disposition. “I’d shake your hand and say ‘Hi, I’m Adam Monroe’, but you kind of have me pinned.”
The relenting upward curve of Peter’s lips was all he needed. Adam was finally able to lift himself out of that fucking cramped hell hole. It was never too hard to trick this one. But, he didn’t get too far.
The shovel came down with unforgiving force and the last thing Adam Monroe saw, after four hundred years of greatness, was the bottom of Peter Petrelli’s shoe.