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[personal profile] ladygrendel
Title: No One Wants to Hear You Sing About Tragedy
Fandom: Heroes (season 1)
Characters/Pairings: Nathan Petrelli, future!Peter Petrelli
Warnings: season 1 spoilers
Summary: Nathan's contemplating whether or not he should stop the bomb when future!Peter appears to help him decide


It had been a long and bad day for Nathan Petrelli: his little brother was still missing, his mother and Linderman were determined to get him to see the silver lining in letting most of New York City get blown up, and now he had a splitting headache.

Thankfully his office was empty and he immediately took shelter there, trying to get away from any distractions so he could finally think. He closed the door and turned on the light, sighing as he enjoyed the silence.

“Rough day?”

Nathan spun around in surprise. He was positive that the room had been empty a second ago. How-

“Invisibility,” came the reply, somewhere near the window behind his desk. The air shifted and Peter appeared. He stood with his back to Nathan, looking out over the city with his hands buried in the pockets of a ragged black trench coat. “Hello, Nathan.”

“Peter?” Inside Nathan released a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about now. “Where in the hell have you been?!” He came forward, anger written on his face.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Here, in New York,” Peter ran a hand through his hair and Nathan noticed it was longer than when he last saw him. “Or what was left of it.”

“Excuse me?” Nathan couldn’t help but wonder if his brother was going to start giving him another lecture about saving the world. Then Peter laughed, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. There was something wrong with it. It wasn’t his Peter’s laugh. This laugh was caustic and bitter.

“It’s true, I’m not your Peter. And I’m not about to lecture you on heroism.”

“How did you know? It’s almost like-”

“Not almost like, Nathan. I can read minds. And I’ve come to warn you.”

“Warn me?” he scoffed. “Warn me of what?”

“The future,” said Peter flatly. “Five years from now.”

“What? Pete, come on, enough with this future crap-” Without warning, Nathan felt something hit him and he fell back into the chair in front of his desk. He sat there for a moment, shocked, and then moved to get up. His body wouldn’t budge, his fingers could barely twitch as they were bound to the chair’s arms by an invisible force. “Peter! Stop this!”

“No.” Nathan looked up, confused by his brother’s behavior; he had never heard Peter sound so cold. “You will listen, Nathan.”

There was silence for a moment as he watched his brother pace back and forth in front of the window. Nathan hadn’t noticed it until now, but Peter wasn’t walking like a normal person would: he walked with a gait that reminded him of a wild animal. Finally, Peter paused and spoke, his voice sounding unusually harsh.

“Five years from now, this city will still be a wasteland. The Department of Homeland Security will hunt down our kind, and turn over the survivors of their raids to scientists to be used as guinea pigs. The world will fear us, and some will be branded as terrorists for trying to free our kind. President Nathan Petrelli will decide to announce that Dr. Mohinder Suresh had discovered a cure, and that clinics will be opened worldwide.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. I mean, if Suresh really does find a cure-”

“There isn’t a cure,” Peter announced suddenly.

“But you just said-”

“It’s a lie. What will be injected isn’t a cure, but a poison. By the time anyone figures it out, it’ll be too late and no one will care anyway. Good riddance, the world will say.”

Nathan frowned, sensing that he still wasn’t seeing the big picture. Peter was only feeding his small parts, baiting him to ask more questions. Suddenly, he brightened a bit.

“Linderman was right, I do become president.”

“No. You die before you even step into the office. A man named Sylar will murder and impersonate you. He’ll give the order for the clinics because he wants to eliminate the competition. He wants to kill Hiro, me, and other threats to the government.”

Threat to the government? Peter?

“Don’t act so surprised. You should be proud,” he added bitterly. “Nathan Petrelli’s little brother, one of the most wanted men in the world. Hiro’s got me beat though, he’s higher up on the list of terrorists.”

“Stop reading my mind,” snapped Nathan. “And stop this nonsense. This city needs the bomb to go off; it’ll help the world heal. Besides, you survive.”

“Survive?” asked Peter softly. His body tensed and the light bulb in the lamp on the desk shattered, causing Nathan to jerk back from shock. “SURVIVE?!”

Peter finally turned around, and Nathan could only stare in horror. Now he finally understood why his brother seemed so different.

This man wasn’t his brother. He was much more muscular and leaner. And those eyes…there was no happiness, no hope in them, only ice and acid. Nathan found he couldn’t look away from that scar. It maimed the man’s face, causing it to look distorted. This man wasn’t his brother…

“But I am. I’m Peter Petrelli, the bomb that wiped out over half of New York City.” He walked straight through the desk and knelt down so that he and Nathan were eye to eye. “You have to stop me, Nathan. Kill me, fly me into outer space, chain me up and let me sink to the bottom of the ocean, I don’t care. I’m not asking you to save the world Nate, just…save them. The innocent people who have nothing to do with this fucked up world of ours.”

Peter looked away, indescribable anguish appearing in his eyes.

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the fact that the world thinks it was Sylar who was the bomb when it was me all along. I hate that she’s in pain because of me. She lost everything. Her husband…her son…” He turned back, determination in his eyes. “Stop me. Stop the bomb.”

Then he was gone, taking the invisible bonds with him.

Almost as he had never been there at all.
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September 2011

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