Petrelli Vs Carlisle...the Sequel

[chimeramimicry]

"Petrelli VS Carlisle -- The Sequel"
Who:  Peter Petrelli & Peter Carlisle (Blackpool)
When: Beginning of Season 1

Peter Petrelli was a burrower.  He liked to be warm, but not to be too close to someone in his sleep.  As such, he ended up under the covers, all the way at the very bottom of the bed.  He was just a little lump of happy snoring sounds, one arm hanging noteably off of the side of the bed somewhere near Carlisle's foot.

Without work in the morning, there was no alarm set.  He hadn't thought to ask the other Peter if he needed to be up or not and, in fact, even if he had, they'd been a little preoccupied to do much about it.

Now, stretching and fresh from dreams of time travel, Peter opened his eyes to gaze at a knee that belonged to a very hairy leg.  He wasn't sure what to make of that at first!

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[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

The bust had been horrible, guns firing off, everyone fighting. Sure they caught the bastard but half his squad was injured and his bad foot was in agony. Frankly, he was just ready to go home now. He still had to help build up the case and collect evidence for when he brought it back home.

He checked his phone during his lunch break and raised an eyebrow. Urgent. Seriously?

He had work!

So he was a slacker most the time, finished up early almost every day and spent most his time stalking Peter instead of actually filling in his paperwork. That didn't mean he could go running around after him, he really had to get everything processed. He had till 6pm or he'd be in serious trouble.

With a sigh, he reluctantly texted back. "Alright. Coming."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

This was it. The angle of it, the way that part of a building was clipped from his view by the glare, everything was right. Peter stood on the ledge of a fifteen story building, toes peeking over the edge when he heard Carlisle's taxi pull up.

Peter closed his eyes. The door opened. There was the faint sound of Peter's laugh and a softly rolling 'r' below him. He bit his lower lip. Excited. Nervous.

He dialed Peter's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey. Look up."

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Seriously? What the hell?

Peter sighed in annoyance and peered around. What on Earth was he playing at? He really needed to get his work finished up. "Peter! I don't have time for this. I said work all day. I'm not a nurse, there's no canteen for you to wait in!"

Course he had no idea where Peter was so he was essentially talking to thin air.

Opening his phone, he followed direction, looked up and--

"CHRIST!"

Dropping his phone, he stared up at Peter in horror. Oooh great! He slept with a suicidal nutcase! He was going to off himself and probably try to crush him in some sort of murder suicide deal.

"Peter! This isn't funny. Get down from there, understood? I will... I-I... I'll arrest you!"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I need to--" Peter glanced at the phone he was still talking into. He'd heard Carlisle drop his own phone, so that wouldn't do. He peered over the edge instead. "I need to show you something!" he yelled instead, grinning widely. "I had this dream. It was just like this...you were even tugging on your hair like that!"

He laughed, and it picked up in between the buildings, echoing lightly. Yep. The right sound. It was almost time.

Almost.

There was a honking horn two blocks away and Peter grinned. Yep. That was the signal.

"Watch!" he yelled, and then jumped.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"Get down! You're not funny! I will book you in for wasting a police officers time-- nooooo! No, no, no, no! Do not jump!"

Ok, so he was freaking out, he was allowed to freak. He was allowed to hop around and tug aggressively at his hair.

Cause well, Peter was trying to kill himself and--

He jumped. Peters eyes couldn't be wider as he froze in horror. Sure, he'd seen suicidal people, talked people down from roofs and even seen them leap off.

He just never thought he'd see Peter willingly throwing himself off.

He was pretty sure his heart stopped.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It wasn't working. Every second had slowed, the wind wasn't pushing him up. He was falling and not flying. This wasn't the dream. Peter ought to have been gasping in amazement.

Oh God. Oh God, he was going to die. This was God's punishment for sleeping with another man. For polluting himself!

Peter's arms and legs flailed about, trying to push him upwards but--

He never hit the ground. Oh, he screwed his eyes up, but he hadn't hit. Instead, he blinked down inches from Peter, floating just about him. They locked eyes. "Oh," he said softly, the guy in the wind tunnel practicing free falling, and then the magic gave way he and did end up falling on Peter. At least he was only six feet off of the ground and not over a hundred.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Oh God. He couldn't watch, his one night stand was about to splatter on the pavement and his legs wouldn't move! He couldn't run, he couldn't catch or do anything. He just stood there in horror.

He was waiting for the smash but instead, nothing happened.

Well, except for the fact that Peter Petrelli, the nurse who wrapped his foot... was floating. He was just hovering and he wasn't hitting the ground.

The fear, the horror, the panic, the disbelief. It all struck him at once. He tumbled back in fear, slammed into the wall and passed out.

In a very manly and not at all girly manner.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

At least Peter had something soft to land on. This had actually happened in his dream, being caught in Carlisle's arms and resting his head on his chest. He hadn't realized he was passed out for it.

Peter stayed there for a few moments, listening to a terrified heartbeat, before he scrambled up and took a pulse, checked him for injuries and did everything a medical professional would do at a time like this.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! You were singing and I thought-- I thought it would be--" Well, he'd flown. Like in his comics. He's flown. Peter's soft lips pressed to Carlisle's forehead as he shook him a bit frantically. "Peter, I'm sorry, wake up!"

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Slowly stirring back to the real world, he looked up at Peter and gave him a small look of confusion. Flying back on the ground, he could feel his back and head throb from where he'd landed and coupled with his foot, this really wasn't nice.

Giving Peter a frown, he struggled to find something to say to the strange man. Instead, he stammered a few times before blinking slowly.

"You floated. You threw yourself off a-- you-- how?"

His eyes were wide, obviously very unsure what to think about all this. He wasn't about to freak out and run away but he wasn't about to act like he was thrilled. He was horrified. He thought Peter was trying to kill himself!

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Sitting back on his heels, Peter rested his hands on his thighs and stared at the other man before he started to laugh. "Remember when we first met? I told you I think I'm meant to be something more? I've been having these dreams for months, yanno? And sometimes, when I get out of bed, my foot will hover an inch above the floor for a second."

He ruffled the back of his hair and nibbled lightly on his tongue.

"I... I can do things, Peter."

The look in the other man's eyes were troubling and Peter crawled closer, putting a hand on his chest. He wanted to have a connection. He wanted something good to come of all of this. And he wanted Carlisle to join in it with him.

"My dreams come true. I can...float...kinda...that's gotta mean something, right?"

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

"Yeaaaaah... that means something. It means either I'm having another mental breakdown from the stress of work, I'm tripping on something or you can really fly and ... and thats just madness."

Trying to take it all in, there was a few moments of dead silences... before Peter burst into laughter. Smiling brightly, he slumped back on the dirty ground.

Hands covering his face, he inhaled deeply and sighed.

"This is madness, its utter madness. I slept with an American super hero who can probably track me down if I fly back to England. God sake, only in bloody America!"

It was always Americas fault, even the flying nurses!

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

For a moment, Peter just blinked his almost obnoxiously large brown eyes before he joined the other man in his laughter. "I blame you! Nothing's been normal since you came into my hospital!" Peter said, giving the other man just a little shove before he changed his mind and wrapped his arms around his neck.

He couldn't stop thinking about him. He didn't want to be without him. Peter was silly and ate too much and was excellent company and sang his way into his pants!

There was no other person like him in the entire world!

He wanted nothing more than to ask him to stay, regardless of what they had, or what they might never have. Peter closed his eyes and just hugged the other man in a dirty, smelly, glass strewn New York alley and held his breath.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Hugging Peter back close, Carlisles head burrowed against Peters neck, merely taking in the younger man with a sense of dread. He was supposed to go home soon, very soon even. He had to leave his super hero best friend and lover.

God, he couldn't believe he had to leave this and go back there. To watched the man he hates and the women he loved happy together while he was buried amongst his paper work.

All that pressure and stress, so many legal problems and medical problems... he didn't want to face it. He just wanted to stay here with Peter.

He knew what he wanted, he always did. He wanted to stay. But he knew he couldn't, he had a life he couldn't just drop.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't let go of the man he was hugging and he couldn't bring himself to move.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"You could stay. Here. You could... I don't know. Ger a visa. Work as a liaison with the police, right?"

This was not the speech Carlisle had given to Natalie when he was trying to get her to leave Blackpool with him, it was much too uncertain and filled with childish ordeals.

"God," Peter whispered against his collar. "I'm sorry." He pulled back, sniffling a little. Peter's heart was pure. He wasn't entirely selfless, but it was damned close enough. "Had sex and gave you a heartattack. Evidently, that means I get to act like a creepy stalker."

He stood up, wiping his eyes from the way they stung, and offered Peter his hand.

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

He couldn't stay here but he couldn't seem to leave. He wanted to drop everything, to do the big romantic leap once more and be happy... but then he remember the last time he'd done that and how well that had ended.

Was it worth ruining everything for another chance? He really didn't know any more.

Blowing of obligations was something everyone wanted to do but how could he? He had a duty to the parents, brothers, sisters, friends and even bleeding pets of the victims in his cases. How could he just leave those people hanging?

"I don't want to leave," Taking Peters hand, he hauled himself to his feet and offered the other man a swift kiss to the cheek. "But I have too. I hate to but I can't stay. And I'm sorry. For you and for me."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter looked down and tucked his hair behind his ear. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, eyes narrowed to keep the emotion out of them. He smiled, but it was fake, and he let out a solid breath. "You've got a life. But it was fun, right?"

Carlisle hadn't asked him to come with, but it hadn't mattered. Peter would have never been able to. There was too much baggage here. Nathan and his mother were all he had. He was use to seeing his brother every few days and spending time with the boys. He was use to going to church with his mom when she felt religious and attending her luncheons and fundraisers.

But he didn't ask. Don't need to go through the reasons to say no.

Peter shoved his hands back into his own pocket, a bit shocked at the kiss to his cheek. It felt a little cold. Well, maybe that was just a British thing? Were Scottish still Brits? Peter still couldn't get him out of his head!

"I...um... Well." Peter wished he could fly now. But things were never easy!

[carlislestyle.livejournal.com]

Looking up at the sky, Peter pulled a face before dropping his head back down and sighing. Why couldn't he make this work? What happened to the old Carlisle that would try to talk Peter into going home with him or somewhere new or even find a way to stay.

Had his romantic side been that trampled over that he no longer cared? That thought hurt more than leaving Peter.

"You should fly," Carlisle mumbled, pulling a lolly from his pocket. Unwrapping it, he twirled it in front of his face. "When you master it, we could fly off. Hawaii or -- I don't know, Wales? I don't care. But I could use a super hero you know? I'd kill to fly, I'd never stay still."

Smiling softly, he put the lolly in his mouth and playfully saluted Peter before tearing himself out the alleyway and away from the man he wanted.

It was just easier, in the long run, to leave.