A Long Trip Home

[chimeramimicry]

The door is two yards away but I can't move from the top of the stairs.  It's been months, four or so, since I've been here, in this spot.  Gone were the days of trudging up the stairs with my satchel on the way home from work because my building's landlords refused to fix the elevators properly.  Gone too was the pleasure I had of returning to this apartment I paid for with my own money and not from my trust fund.  I donated all of that to charity the moment I turned twenty-five and finished paying off my loans to school.  It was two years ago.  It feels like forever.

I'm not the same man I had been.  I'm not a child anymore.  At least, I want to think that.

I'm still clutching the photograph of my brother and I in our tuxedos.  There's a smudge on it from my thumb and full of creases.  I've not let it go since I opened that box containing everything that I am.  Everything I was.  I left Ireland without looking back.  There was, there is only one thing on my mind.  Nathan.

Nathan.

Nathan.

I know he's here.  I've always felt a connection to him.  Mohinder Suresh called it part of my empathy, to feel things like that.  Funny to be so empathically linked to someone I spent my whole life pining for, who has always had a life to live without me.  He's never had time for me.  Never.

"Just walk, Peter," I whisper to myself as I move to a door I have not touched in a long time.  I swallow.  And knock.  I know he's in here without knowing it.  I almost lose the nerve to knock.  Please answer, Nathan.  Please.

Comments

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It's not as if I can't hear them. I stand behind my family and watch them, not exactly weary of them but certainly unhappy with their line of comments. I refuse to acknowledge what my mother is asking my brother to do, just like I refuse to comment on the way she is playing at his biggest fear. My brother loves me, but he loves himself more. That is his nature. I understand him for what he is and I love him through the short comings. I've already moved the largest problems he has with addiction to sex and to alcohol, but I wasn't trying to make Nathan perfect.

Just perfect for me. What else could I ask for.

"You have no idea how strong the mutation is. They'll rip the very world apart, crack it straight down the middle."

And still she goes on! So not only does she appeal to my brother's need for self preservation, but she also appeals to my need to save the world. I frown helplessly, unable to hold my tongue.

"That won't happen," I whisper. Neither the death of my children, nor my mother's predictions.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"You're Goddamned right it won't happen," I say, watching Peter set the glass of wine down in front of my mother. She takes a large swallow, and then another. My mother's always ridden the edge of alcoholism herself, but never quite found herself on the wrong side of it like me. I wonder how she hasn't, constantly being bombarded by visions of a hellish future in her dreams.

I get up and begin to pace. My stomach is churning, the fear of the sometimes accuracy of her past predictions eating away at my insides. I can feel the slight ache in my own blood for a drink, more out of habit than actual need, but I push it down. My own father attempted the murder of myself and Heidi under the threat of investigation of his shady business dealings with Daniel Linderman. My mother and I almost sent Peter to his own death not very long ago. Prevarication and treachery run in this bloodline almost as strongly as the predisposition for abilities. I may not have been born with one, but I'm definitely a carrier, and Peter has the potential to become one of the most powerful of our kind, even as fairly inexperienced with his empathic mimicry as he is now.

These children could very well do just as my mother says. If she's right, then I have an obligation to stop the destruction of the world because of Peter's inability to be rational. If it can be proven they are a threat, then I will do what needs to be done. I won't let my innocent, naive brother be the cause of genocide. I stopped it once, and I'll stop it again.

"You're talking about two harmless children, Ma. Peter would know if anything were wrong with them. He talks to them. You would know, wouldn't you?" I ask him. The look on his face is pure Peter at this moment, even though his cheeks are streaked with mascara and tears, and his formerly perfect hair hangs in tangled curls around his face.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"My children will be loved," I say softly, my simple white dress barely hiding my pregnancy. I'm getting bigger every day. I'm far too petite to hide carrying twins for too long. I gaze down at my mother and then tentatively take a seat beside her. My hand, polished and gleaming nails hitting the light, rests over her own. We'd match if her hands weren't wrinkled. My mother was not young when she had Nathan. And I, born twelve years later, aged her further still.

"You and Nathan were loved, Peter," she said, clutching my hand with her other one. My poor mother.

I shake my head. "I know you love us, mom. But Lucas and Daniel aren't being born for any ulterior motive. I'm going to give them everything they deserve. Everything you and Dad were too busy to give us when we were little."

I take my hands back from her.

"Why must you insist on death at every turn, mom? I won't let you...or anyone...hurt them. I'll never let anyone hurt them."

Even Nathan knows that when it comes to the safety of the children, I will fight even him. I am emotionally attached to them in ways that they can not understand. I gently stroke my stomach, as I often do when I'm agitated. The boys can feel it. They're agitated too.

"They'll never do the things you think they will. I swear my life on it."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Our mother drains her glass and lowers it to the linen tablecloth, her hand no longer shaking. "You're condemning your family to their death, Peter. Your poor old mother. Your dear brother. Surely you understand, don't you, Nathan?" she asks, trying to win me over to her side, but I won't budge. I'm marrying Paige, and standing behind Peter on this one. Until I see the threat for myself, I will love and protect these children with my life.

This angers my mother beyond anything I've ever seen before. She pushes Peter's hand off her and begins her theatrics, getting up and sliding her tiny arm around my waist. She inadvertently touches the place where she kicked me in the ribs, and I wince. "Peter, don't you understand? We were your family long before those...those abominations of nature were," she spits. God, with a little alcohol in her, she sounds just like me on one of my bastardly tirades.

She will not insult the children. They are, so far, innocent and haven't hurt a soul. If anything, they've brought myself and Peter closer than we've ever been.

"Ma, this conversation is over right now. Peter, take her home. I'll drive her car home after we finish the business we came to do. Get married," I say insistently. To infuriate my mother even more, I press a soft kiss to Peter's mouth, cup his upturned face delicately in my hand. My nose and mouth ache, it hurts to breathe, and I just want that ring on Peter's finger and my mouth on his, the promise in my heart to him made real in the eyes of the law. Our mother's trying to ruin everything, and I refuse to let her.

But I can't quite let go of the irrational fear in me that somehow, Angela Petrelli may be right.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Yes, our mother is watching, yes, this is vaguely embarrassing, but why should I compromise my love for Nathan when he's being affectionate towards me? I part my lips and he kisses me deeper until his wince makes him pull back. I gaze up at him with sympathetic eyes. I know my blood can heal him, but for something so little, he'll have to make due with a kiss and some aspirin later.

He puts out his hand and I take it. He helps me up and I let him as our mother watches in grief and anger. She's about to open her mouth again, I can tell. It's in the air, on her lips, and though I do not look at her, I can see the venom in her eyes.

"You're nothing to him, Peter. He's used you. And now you're using those children to keep him because his wife left with the other pair."

She said it to hurt me, specifically. She wants to turn us against each other. It's a last ditch effort. I know this. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt me just the same. My hand in Nathan's tightens it's grip.

"I'll take her home. And then we have some mess to clean up at City Hall. I'll wait for you there."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"Okay, Pete. Don't listen to her. She doesn't know how much love I have for you," I tell him with a smile. "Have a fine day, Ma," I say, the sarcasm practically dripping off my tone.

My mother just shakes her head sadly and pats my cheek affectionately, wipes away a smear of blood I must have missed. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I'm sorry you've lost your way. Take care of yourself, dear."

"I'm sorry too, Ma," I say, lowering my eyes from hers. The approval and love of my mother has always meant so much to me, and I know I've lost it for good.

Peter closes his eyes, and then I'm standing in the place I was lying when my mother was kicking me and shouting at me. I make my way to the men's room to survey my injuries. My nose is swollen and blood-crusted, and my lip is split and tender. I wash my face and then unbutton my shirt to look at my bruised ribs. My side is purple already, and each breath hurts, but nothing's seriously injured.

When I look mostly like myself again, a man ready to marry the love of his life, I walk back to my spot, where I can actually see droplets of blood on the floor.

It's incredibly eerie being here, able to walk amongst the people who are entirely motionless sitting in chairs, in mid-stride, in mid-conversation. I wonder how Peter's going to handle this situation. Peggy and Slice aren't entirely aware of what's just happened. They know Angela Petrelli is his mother, but they don't know her name or anything else about her. But they did hear my mother and me both call him Peter.

Peter's going to have to reach down into the depths of himself and his abilities to fix this one.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I don't say anything to my mother as I leave her in her huge, empty mansion in the city. My eyes touch hers, the same as hers, and I simply smile sadly. I'll never get her approval. She'll never want to be in my children's lives. I take off, thinking strangely to myself that I probably ought to not fly around in a dress.

When I arrive to my brother's side, he's cleaning the floor with a napkin. His face looks a mess and I stand for a moment, in my heels and my white dress and I shake my head. For one moment, I let myself doubt. But that is only for one moment.

Shaking out my wind blown hair, I gently take his arm and look at him while he looks down at me. We smile. I don't know how we can still manage to do that. "Well, Mr. Petrelli. How do you feel about trying to stop a mugging?"

He looks at me, confused. "A man tried to steal the money from that coffee stand over there and you stopped him. He got away, unfortunately, but you--" I use telekinesis to wreck the sidebar, spilling coffee and creamers everywhere-- "Saved the day. He did manage to sucker punch you though."

There are a dozen memories to change. There are security cameras to scramble. And by the end I am so tired that I want nothing more than to rest.

But we still have a wedding to get to. The most important wedding of my life. I won't miss it for anything.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Once Paige is finished with her memory alterations, she smiles up at me and nods her head towards the coffee stand, and I take my place there, waiting for her to restart time.

With an audible rush, all the people around us continue their paused conversations and other business, and the police officers who were coming into the building immediately make their way over to the coffee stand and take a statement from myself and the man who was working it. I give them Paige's fabricated story and once that's done, I rejoin Paige and her friends, breathing a sigh of relief.

This little charade has effectively covered up my mother's attempt to ruin the best day of my life.

I take Paige's hand in mine, and we continue on to the courtroom that's been reserved for our small ceremony. I'd called a florist, of course, and had a few arrangements brought in to brighten the room. There is also a bouquet of flowers for my soon-to-be wife, and Paige's eyes positively shine as she picks it up.

Peggy is already crying, and Slice can't stop her own giddy smile when the marriage official begins the ceremony.

This is going to be perfect. I can just feel it.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It's so simple. Just a reading of the ceremony. An exchange of rings. The flowers were a nice touch though, I'll admit that. I'm still clutching them when I've said my part in the whole affair. "I do," in front of my witnesses and the Justice of the Peace and my brother. To my brother. I look up almost shyly into his eyes when it's his turn to repeat the lines.

I almost can't wait for the kiss. The Justice is old, taking his time with the pomp and circumstance. I'm almost bouncing up and down in my white pumps when he finally announces: "I know pronounce you man and wife. Kiss your bride, senator."

I don't notice the paparazzi, all curious to find out who this woman with one of their top end state officials. All I see is Nathan. Officially, my name is Paige Petrelli to those gathered.

But I'm still me underneath, and it's that cheeky six year old that my big brother is kissing, not the woman pregnant with his children. It's taken twelve years to get this far. I suppose that's fitting. Nathan had to wait twelve years until I was born and I had to wait the same to accomplish my dream.

There's applause, but my attention is on my lover, my brother, my husband only.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

I suppose I should have known how quickly the media would be alerted to my near-shotgun wedding, being a United States Senator and all. But cameras flashing and reporters sticking their microphones in my face are a welcome distraction compared to my mother's attempted sabotage.

I smile brightly into the cameras and say a few words to hold them over as I lead my new wife down the steps of City Hall and across the street to my car. Slice and Peggy both follow behind us and after giving Paige and surprisingly me crushing hugs, get into the car that I have waiting for them to take them to the restaurant I've selected for lunch.

Paige eases herself into the passenger seat, and I get into the driver's seat, turn the ignition over, and place my hands on the steering wheel. The platinum band on the third finger of my left hand catches the mid-morning sun, but nothing shines more brightly than Paige's face as she leans over and rests her head on my shoulder.

"You got your wish, Peter," I say softly, turning her face towards me so I can give her the deep kiss I really wanted to give her after the Justice pronounced us husband and wife, having opted for a more appropriate one in front of the cameras. "You married your brother!"

And I married mine.

I laugh, and so does she. More of those happy tears spill from her eyes, and I kiss them away with gentle touches of my lips. "I would have never believed it could happen. But now I know that with you by my side, anything's possible. You changed my life, Peter, and I'm going to show you every day how much that means to me. I love you."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Nathan wasn't lying either. Our honeymoon was spent in New York, at our house, mostly naked the entire time, though we were not always in bed. Though we are in the city, the high walls of the back garden and the upper terrace provide some protection from voyeuristic eyes, though on two separate occasions, our house guests walked in on us during a bought of sinful, fulfilling, kinky sex.

Some of which was taped so I could watch again later as he fucked me again. Henodistic paradise though our home was, Nathan still had to go back to Washington. A week after our marriage,and the story of his pretty new wife had finally left the newspapers and television, he went back to work both downtown and in DC.

When he came home to me, it was never smelling like another woman. Never tasting like too much alcohol. It worked. I shut off his need to cheat and to drink himself wasted. Now he could have wine with dinner and just have one glass. Or get through a stressful day with fruitjuice and not whiskey.

And our nights together? Christ, so much passion. Poor man, I wear him out.

A month passes and Peggy and Slice are able to move out. Nathan's gotten them respectable jobs at his old law firm getting paid quite a bit of money to do what they use to....serve people coffee and take down notes.

I can't hide my pregnancy anymore, but that's all right, I don't want to.

Another month and we pass a check up with flying colors. I'm five and a half months along at this point, huge as a whale. Peggy and Slice have just left our home after dinner and I'm tired. "Nathan," I whine as my brother looks through some sort of bill or legal document. "My back hurts. Your boys are kicking my spine again."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"My boys?" I laugh, looking up from the insignificant matter of business I'm perusing over my half-finished glass of wine. "Why are they only my boys when they're trying to take you apart from the inside?"

Paige tosses her head back and laughs. She's so beautiful. Her pregnancy has put a permanent glow on her face, and she's let her hair grow out even longer. She's gained a little weight everywhere, and in two months her belly has grown so large I'm almost afraid to make love to her. She insists it won't hurt them, and I'll take her word for it; I still can't get enough of her body, pregnant or not.

Only when she smiles and looks into my eyes, like she is right now, can I still see my brother in there. I know he's in there, but I've spent so much time these past two months thinking of her as Paige, my wife, instead of Peter, my brother.

When I really think about how much my brother is putting his body through for me, even with his healing ability, I'm even more thankful that he was able to forgive me and help me become a better man. He's loved me more than anyone else in my entire life, and he's taught me how to love myself.

I toss the paper down and stand behind Paige, press my fingers into her shoulders to work out some of the tension. She leans back into my touch and gives a soft sigh of approval. "You want me to run you a bath? I picked up some of those bath salts you like. I could even join you if you want. If your huge belly leaves enough room for the water," I tease, kissing the sensitive place behind her ear. Everything that used to turn my brother on still does my wife, at least.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

At least his arms still fit all the way around me. I wouldn't be able to sleep if he wasn't touching me like this. I turn towards my brother -- he is still my brother moreso than my husband simply because that bond can not be broken by any means, legal or otherwise -- and wrap my arms around his neck. "That tub is large enough for Peggy and Slice to join us too."

He arches an eyebrow and I have to laugh at him.

"That wasn't an offer!" I'm about to playfully chide him when he lifts me in his arms. Once upon a time, I hated being the weakling, the effeminate little brother who just wanted to sit in his room all day and read comic books. I started doing track. Working out. Proving that just because I was short and pretty, I was still a man.

Now, I let him carry me whenever he wants, head on his shoulder. It's a comfort I refuse to give up for the next few months.

Two and a half, if things work out right, and my children will be born. And then we'll have diapers and school and a whole mess of responsibility.

"I'm going to start on the nursery tomorrow," I murmur. Nathan will be in Washington for the next two weeks and while he can and will fly up to visit me, I know he'll be working on a new bill and will be busy being a senator. "I decided to go with the green and peach."

Such a mundane conversation. And I love it.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

I take her slowly up the stairs, all the while pressing kisses into the side of her neck. "I'm sure it'll be lovely. You always had such great taste. You always picked the best superhero characters," I laugh. She pinches my nipple through my shirt for revenge.

She can't quite tell that I'm cheating a bit with my flight ability; even though she's only five foot four, she's gotten a lot heavier over the past two months. I love being able to care for her like this, but I need to make sure I don't throw my back out. That's hardly a way to impress your fellow senators when you can't even stand up straight.

Paige stands completely still while I slide the straps of her dress off her shoulders and let them slide down her arms. The fabric falls away from her breasts and rests on her belly. Her breasts are even fuller and incredibly sensitive to touch.

I nuzzle my face into them and murmur, "I'm really going to miss these when you change back to yourself."

After a few more moments, I'm holding Paige close to me, my hand slowly circling over her belly, both of us unclothed. I feel one of my children kick my palm, and my heart swells with love for them. I'm looking forward to the day when I can actually see the two beautiful lives the love between my brother and myself have created.

I try not to think anymore about the terrible prediction my mother dropped on our heads on our wedding day. Nothing that comes from Peter could ever hurt a living thing, and I only hope his inherent goodness is enough to cancel out any of my shortcomings these children may inherit.

The bath fills with warm water, steam rising from the surface, the scent of the bath salts permeating the air, a calming mixture of vanilla and lavender.

"Here we go, beautiful," I say, lowering us into the bath. Paige immediately curls up against me, and the completeness I feel at this very moment is like nothing I've ever known.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"You can have them any time you want them," I tell my brother as he continues to fondle me. We can actually bathe later but right now, neither of us is interested in that. "When the boys are born, when I can actually manage to switch genders..." Well imagine that? Brother by day, saying the world one old person at a time as a hospice nurse. And at night, being a mother to our children. Attending senetorial functions. Being a wife and a brother all in one package.

Nathan never has to wander because I can be everything for him and everything for myself and everything for our children, all in one go.

It's a typical evening after that. I love the taste of my brother's cock and I sit at his feet after our bath while he perches on the bed and suck him off slowly. He twists my sensitive nipples and I'm tempted to half hump his leg. What a thought!

Afterward, mostly because he's growing increasingly afraid of injury to the kids, he fucks my ass...like for old time's sake. I might not have a prostate, but I still love the feeling of being stretched there. It's a mutually beneficial for both of us really. Besides, I know he misses how I use to be. It's just a little taste of it.

Just a little preview of what's to come when the end of this pregnancy is over.

I'm out with Peggy, Slice, and Slice's new girlfriend Roxie -- who is cute as a button and reminds me quite a bit of Claire -- at a tea room in lower Manhattan on the day I hit the eight month mark. It's rather remarkable for twins that I've gotten this far, though when my water breaks right there, I blink and simply stay seated.

"Paige?" Peggy's hand is on my neck before she takes the tea cup from me. "Are you all right?"

I suppose I should be scared, but I'm not, even if I'm crying. "They're coming."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"More coffee, Senator?" the busty blonde waitress who always takes care of me during lunch asks, the decanter poised over my empty cup.

"No, I'm quite all right, Deborah. Tracy, more coffee?" I ask my assistant. That's all she is to me now, nothing more, after last week, when temptation almost grew too strong to resist.

Tracy and I had met to discuss a new motion over dinner and drinks, and I took her back to my apartment to finalize the details, nothing but that on my mind.

Clearly she had other designs for the evening. I could see it in her eyes and the way she was undressing me with them that she wanted me, and I almost let my slightly drunk state overtake me. I stopped her just as she was snaking her hand around my cock, and I pushed her off. "No, Tracy, I can't do this anymore. You know I'm a married man."

"That never stopped you before, Nathan," she cooed drunkenly into my ear, and continued trying to get my pants open.

"No. I mean it. I'm not that man anymore. If the only reason you work for me is to try and fuck me, then I suggest you find yourself another job," I said, wiping her lipstick off my cheek. Fucking bitch, I remember thinking to myself. Trying to ruin everything Paige and I have worked so hard to build.

Tracy just smiled disbelievingly and squeezed my flaccid dick roughly, and said coldly, "What's the matter, can't get it up anymore, Senator?"

"Not for you, you fucking whore. Get the fuck out," I answered, throwing her purse out into the hallway.

That was a week ago. She's calmed down a bit since then, and now we're on a work relationship only. Just how it's supposed to be.

"No, no more for me, thanks," she answers, pushing papers back into her briefcase.

I slide my Amex across to the waitress and my cell vibrates in my pocket. It's Peggy, and she's virtually in tears. "Paige's water broke," she moans. She's scared, and clearly she doesn't know what to do. I hear Paige in the background trying to calm her down.

"I have to go, Tracy. It's an emergency. Let them know my wife just went into labor."

"Sure thing, Senator," she huffs, tossing the tip down on the table amongst the dishes and cups.

Paige's voice is right in my ear then. She sounds totally calm, and for that I'm glad. Nathan, come quick.

"I'll be there soon, Peter," I whisper into the phone once no one is around to hear me. Five minutes later I'm taking off into the bright blue sky.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I think my friend needs a sedative more than I do," I say, almost serenely as Peggy holds my hand to her cheek. I'm comforting her more than she is comforting me, but that's all right. I am glad to help, really, as it gives me something to do while I wait for Nathan to arrive.

A normal flight from DC to New York would take half an hour and some change, depending on how long it would be until one arrives. Car would take four hours, train two and a half. And then there'd be driving from the airport or station to the hospital. But I can almost hear the sound of a jet passing above us and I close my eyes, wistfully happy. He's arrived. I don't know how, exactly, I know it, but I do know it.

It's been twenty minutes since the phone call. Hopefully, no one will ask what he was doing that he got here so quickly.

I'm mellow, all things considered, when he takes my hand from Peggy's and nervously inquires about my health and the health of our boys. The doctor grins at us and nods happily to my husband. "It's a little earlier than we'd like with a single birth, but for twins, they've very well formed. It won't be long now."

And that's good because when the next contraction hits me, I almost break his hand.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"Okay, Paige, honey, you're going to be all right," I console her as she nearly fractures my hand with her super-strength. Even with her healing ability, her body must be experiencing excruciating pain.

I'm a slight bit worried about what the doctors are going to think once she's had the children and her body speedily recovers. I don't know if the healing is a passive thing, if she can possibly hold it off as not to arouse suspicion. If anything I suppose she's always got Parkman's power to fall back on, though it exhausts her to use it.

And from my past experience with Heidi, I know childbearing is a daunting, draining effort. I feel helpless, but I know just my presence is all Paige needs. I'm her husband. And his brother, too.

No time to worry about any of that now. My heart is pounding against my ribs, and I feel a light sweat breaking out on my body as Paige unsuccessfully tries to hold in a desperate scream of pain. It's been ten years since I've been through this; I missed Monty's birth, but was present at Simon's. Heidi was in labor for seven hours, and by the end of it she was cursing me and threatening to kill me.

Paige knows when things are moving to the next stage even before the obstetrician does, and I see her grasp the edges of the bed she's lying in, her legs spread, her chest heaving, and with a heavy rush of air out of her lungs, her entire face flushes bright red and she bears down with all her strength, which is quite a bit. My eyes go wide when I see she's dented the metal she's gripping. I may love my brother, but there's no way I'm giving him my hand again. Instead I run my fingers gently over her sweaty hair, and try to comfort her as best I can.

The doctor ushers Peggy, Slice, and her girlfriend out of the room, and Peggy calls, "I love you, honey, you're gonna be just fine!"

"Looks like they really want out of there," a fresh-faced intern who's there for the learning experience says to the obstetrician. "I can see the head already."