Brotherly Love

[chimeramimicry]

I'm almost too late.  I can feel the surge of air in the room before I even pry open the door.  We're up at the penthouse level, the suites.  It's high enough for the broken windows to suck the doors closed.  I'm breathless when I push my way inside.  I see the scuffle.  I hear Nathan's labored breathing.  I have no idea what I do exactly.

It goes back to a time when I lost Nathan.  I was young when my brother went off to serve his country in the Navy.  We're thirteen years apart.  It's a lifetime, really.  I didn't understand that my brother would not be there to wake up to anymore, or to climb into his bed when the monsters came.

The monsters have come again.  One in particular.  One I'm not strong enough to fight.  And yet, he leaves Nathan to me. Badly wounded, hardly breathing, sure.  But alive.  I can almost feel my knees give out as I scoop him up to my chest.  I should go after Sylar.  But I can't move from Nathan's side.

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[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

At least I know triage. This has been my training. Though his pulse is weak, Sylar did not cut into his windpipe. He's able to draw in a breath, no matter how ragged it is. His artery has not been severed, just nicked. I take his hand in mine -- my God, it's so much larger even now -- and force my older brother to clamp down on his throat.

"You've got to stay with me." He's a prick. For my entire life, all he's done is used me and manipulated me. That's the problem with love though. It doesn't matter. It's also a problem with family. I've lost enough lately. I've lost entirely too much. "I swear to God Nathan, if you don't stay with me--"

I don't have time for this coddling. Nathan is a solid man, heavy in my arms, but I can fly. I have no choice. He needs a doctor, a surgeon. I can only do so much. It's a wonder I don't kill us both when I hand in the parking lot.

"HELP! We need help here!"

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I keep my eyes focused on Peter's face so I don't pass out. It hurts so damm much and part of me just wants to give up. I deserve to die this way, I know it and I know Peter knows it too, but something is making me hang on.

It's love...I love Peter and I'm not ready to leave him yet. I remember the days before powers and car accidents and politics ruined what we had. I turned to drink because he wasn't in my life...hell I think the whole hunting thing was because I just wanted Peter to listen to me.

I struggle to take another breath as a trauma team takes me from Peter. "Don't...need him," I beg.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Nathan's bloody hand slips from my fingers and I watch him go with wide eyes. This is not the first time this has happened to him. To me. To us. I should be use to traumatic runs to the hospital's emergency ward by now. "I'm a paramedic!" I call to the team that takes my brother away from me.

"Then you know you stay here!"

I want to hit that man, but instead I fist my hand in my hair, turn in circles, and finally jog through the halls mindless of what anyone says to do or stop me. I can, at the very least, stand at the window as they work on him.

Tears run down my face, I don't even try to stop them. If he doesn't pull through, my life is over.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

Everything becomes a blur after they take me away. People yell things at each other and at me about blood, staying awake, surgery. They mostly seem worried about keeping the blood flowing in me instead of out of me.

I even hear the doctors saying something about my vocal cords and possibly not speaking again. I mentally panic, what kind of Senator can I be without my voice...I'll never be able to fix the mess I made without it.

Not only that but I'll never be able to ask for Peter's forgiveness. The stress of these thoughts finally make me pass out.

I'm sorry Peter....please be here when I wake up

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I am whole heartedly surprised that I don't pass out. It's been hours, but I'm still the only one here. Someone's come by to help me clean up, but I refuse to take off my shirt. If all I have left of Nathan is his blood, I want to keep it.

The questions that they've been asking me have been fueled by too much practice with lying. "He was mugged," I say again and again. "Who mugs you by knife anymore?" I manage not to get too hysterical on the poor cop taking my statement.

Five cups of terrible coffee later and someone comes to find me in the hallway. I need held standing and panic before they tell me that Nathan will pull through.

I'm not allowed in bed with him, too many tubes and wires, but I wish I could curl at his side just the same.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I wake up slowly the soft beeping of the monitors making me panic for a moment as I fear Sylar has returned to finish me off. That was what was the scariest about the whole thing, once that bastard slit my throat I knew I was going to die alone without anyone there to mourn my death.

Even if I thought I had earned it, I wouldn't wish a death alone on anyone. I turn my head as best I can and see Peter looking like hell and I instantly want to beg for his forgiveness, but drawing in the breath to speak tells me how bad of an idea that is and a weak whistle/sigh escapes instead.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

My palm is cool against his forehead and I push back his hair with a tired grin. "Shut up for ten minutes, Nathan." I can't help but smile, finally getting the last word in edgewise and all he can do is try to mirror the puppy look I've perfected years and years ago. He just doesn't have the soul for it.

My lips are dry and warm as I kiss his forehead, lingering against his brow with no desire to pull away. If I can't lay with him, this is the next best thing. It's not like I have a lot to say to him.

I have responsibilities. I have to call Mom, I need to let Bennet know that my weakness kept me from capturing Sylar. My hand finds Nathan's, or maybe he grasps for mine. I have no idea.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

Everything hurts and thoughts skim across my mind as I struggle to get a grip on what happened to me. Is Claire okay, where is Ma, what happened to Sylar? I squeeze Peter's hand twice trying to get his attention again and I do my best to mouth. "Sylar" and "Claire" without hurting myself more.

God what I'm I going to do if I can't talk anymore, how am I going to live much less communicate with those I love. I'm terrified even thought I know Peter is right by my side.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

My eyes are entirely too expressive. I need to figure out a way to mask what I'm feeling so that when things like these happen, I can lie and set one aching mind at ease. It's all I want right now, to be able to tell Nathan what he wants to hear. What I wish was true. Sighing, I squeeze my brother's hand even tighter and bring it up to my lips. Little kisses for comfort. We both need them.

"Sylar got away," I finally say, looking at Nathan's lips because I can not look into his eyes and say these things. I feel itchy. And upset. "And Claire... God Nathan, I'm sorry. I don't know."

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I close my eyes a moment, Peter is being far open about his emotions right now and it's dangerous...so dangerous. If we got caught it would be over for us.

Not only that but Sylar has gotten away...again. Why does he always get to live while my family suffers. It's not right...it isn't fair and dammit once I'm out of this bed I will hunt him down and kill him.

I open my eyes and smile at Peter thought it hurts. I try to tell him it will be alright with my eyes, but I'm not sure he sees it.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I'm tired of being the little brother. Nathan has sat at my bedside more than I can count starting with when I had my tonsils out at age five, to the garden hoe accident that has left my lower lip sometimes limp, to the night in Texas when I collapsed outside of jail.

Wires be damned, I'm going to join my brother in bed. They'll kick me out soon, and when they do, I'll track down our mother and Claire and bring them here. Nathan needs more than me. He's always needed more than what I alone can give.

My head has not touched his shoulder like this in years. My arm across his chest misses all of the tubes that need to be where they are. I just need a moment. I thought he had died. I thought he'd stay dead.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I lean into Peter happily, Peter's claim that he and I are connected has never been truer then the moments we've shared since this whole powers thing began over three years ago.

Ever since Peter was born he's been mine. I know M knows we are closer then brothers, how could she not after all her dreams and years of watching Peter and I do all we can to crawl into each others skin to get the connection we crave.

I hate this place, I want these tubes off and I want to be in bed with the man I love more then life. It's not fair.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see the nurses as they come rushing in here to save a man from being further injured by my need for his affection. He's not always the best brother. He's not always nice to me. He thinks he's got my best interest at heart when in actuality, he's just serving his own interests.

Someone asked me once how I can still stand Nathan. How I can still do anything for him. The answer is simple. He's my brother. I love my brother.

I can feel my muscles relaxing as he tries to rub my back. Neither of us are speaking. Neither of us need to right now. I know he's feeling lost. Afraid. But he doesn't feel so alone when I'm here.

It takes almost half an hour for them to come for me, and I'm right, they kick me out like gargage. I need to find Mom. And Nathan's daughter. I need to put our family right again after Sylar.

I can't believe he actually thought he was won of us.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I panic when they pull Peter away from me and it takes two pumps of my morphine drip before I sleep. Even then my dreams are full of terror and fears as I think of all the trouble Peter could be getting into without me.

I do not feel rested at all when I open up my eyes again. The doctor standing by my bedside telling my about the damage to my vocal cords doesn't help my discord. It will take time, he says, but he doesn't think I'll speak above a whisper again, if I speak again.

I'm angry rather then sad.....Sylar will pay for this if I have to hunt him down alone. He has done far too much damage to my family to live.

I have never hated anyone as much as I hate him, it burns inside of me with a passion that might scare anyone else, but not me...I'm ready for it.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I didn't realize I'd be gone so long. Trying to round up my family is like herding cats. My eyes are still red when I arrive back at my brother's hospital room, but I can't get to him. Mom's in the way. Claire too. There's staff there-- I shouldn't have left, not that I had a choice. "You're going to behave this time?" one large guard asks me as I shy away from him. "I will drag you off again."

No one's paying attention to that. Thankfully. It's really very embarrasing that I couldn't control myself earlier. He's my brother, of course.

My soul mate, but I'm not gonna say that outloud. I'm not deranged, not really.

I catch what the doctor's are saying later than everyone else, when it's only our mother left in the room and I'm sitting in the corner, feeling drained. He might ever speak again. Is that...possible? I can hardly look at Nathan. I was too late afterall.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I need to touch Peter and I reach out my hand. I can't lean forward because of the tubes and wires but my intent is clear. I know he's blaming himself for what happened and I feel I need to reassure him that I don't think it's his fault.

We'll figure out a way we can communicate, we've always been good at that from code words to get out of parties, to secret jokes, even that set of foot signals for holiday dinners.

I always used to think that God made us brothers as a joke or better yet to test us. He wanted to see if we could find a way to love each other without letting anyone else see.

And I think we've done pretty good so far.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I glance at our mother and frown as she wipes at her eyes. She smiles at me when i look at her, as if trying to say that she's strong and not that her favorite son is possibly ruined for the rest of his life. "Mom," I whisper, never one for the 'ma' my older brother uses, "why don't you get yourself some coffee. I can take over for a little while."

"You're always such a good boy, Peter."

Yes. A good boy, I think to myself. I wish that was so. The moment she's gone, my lips are back on Nathan's hand and I gaze feircely at him with waivering eyes. "We can get you fixed," I said, as if it's a promise. I only wish it was.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

Fixed...fixed that should ring some bells with me but for the moment I can't get my brain to go where it needs to because the drugs are still clouding my mind.

Then it hits me...the bomb...Peter said Adam did something to heal me but he never said what...maybe there is a way to repeat the process. I risk talking to get the point across to Peter hoping he'll understand.

"Adam...bomb...heal?" I say in a garbled tone.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I can hardly make out what Nathan's saying, and though I long to climb into bed with him, I can not. All I can do it lean in against him and have him press his lips to my ear. He says it again and I pause, blinking. Of course! Of--

My eyes are wide open as I clutch at Nathan's shoulder. "Adam is dead." But Claire is not. My eyes are shimmering in the darkness between us, despite the bright lights behind my head. "But I know someone else...we just need to get you out of here first."

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I smile brightly as I can and nod to show Peter I'm willing to do what I have to to get well again. I reach with one hand and tap one of the machines I'm hooked up to.

"Alarms," I say softly, "go off if wires out."

It's sad that I know that, but when you've been in the hospital as much as I have you pick up a lot.

"Slip it to me," I ask twice to make sure it's clear enough.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I'm not really sure what he's getting at, I can only make out ever other word, but I do my best to do what he wants. My hand shakes as I carefully pull over the equiptment, doing my best not to jostle anything. I'm so afraid of hurting him more. Claire might be able to heal him, of course. But not if I kill him before she can.

I want to tell Nathan that we can wait a few days for him to get checked out of here, but we both know that Sylar's on the loose. Each moment that we wait here is another moment that Sylar can hurt someone else. Do something else.

I gaze into his eyes. My heart's in my throat as I touch his cheek. We share the same eyes. But he's so much older than I am. He's seen so much more. He's hurt me so many times. I just don't care. I've forgiven worse.

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I lean into Peter's touch trying to tell him without words that I want this, that the longer we wait the more Sylar can get away with using my face and the faces of others. He could seriously hurt someone with that power.

Once the wires and tubes are out I sit up slowly using Peter's shoulders and arms to brace myself as I struggle to my fee. I look around for something better to put on and find a pair of blue scrubs in the closet.

I grab them and quickly dress, they still make me stand out but it's better they those hospital gown. I then turn and take Peter's hand and squeeze it. "Fly," I mouth.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I don't know where to go, but I put my arms around my brother and he puts them around me. The moment we get near a window that I can pry open and get us outside with, I do just that. Nathan is my number one priority. I am as careful as I possibly can be.

I jump into the air and though we fall for almost two seconds, the sky is ours. I love the wind in my hair. I always envied Nathan, being a pilot, being able to do this. Though my powers are limited, flight is still my favorite power.

Maybe because it's Nathan's.

I take Nathan to my apartment. It's risky, but it's all I can do. It's my place. And Nathan deserves a place to rest. My bed's the best bet for that.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

((bump the next?))

[prezstandsalone.livejournal.com]

I kick in as much power as I dare when we fly while trying not to tire myself out. Even so by the time we get to Peter's apartment I'm winded and trying not to throw up,

I stumble to the bed room and collapse on the bed. This was not how I thought I would get into my brother's bed...hell the last time I was in here I was drunk off my ass most of the time. That gets me wondering if Peter every realized I slept in here and wore his clothes during those four months.

Okay no time for those thoughts Nathan....it's all about not dying right now....and not getting Peter's sheets bloody."