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.

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[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I'm almost asleep. Considering how worked up I was only a few moments ago, I really can't believe just how relaxed he's made my feel. I groan, but it's not in pain, lifting my head to gaze over my shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. I want to say that i feel perfect, but that's more of his line. I know I'm nothing like being perfect. I might have powers, amazing abilities, but they are nothing compared to what I want to share with Nathan.

So, instead, I simply nod, smiling. My head hurts from the tears. From everything I've been through this afternoon.

It's absolutely ridiculous how young he's making me feel. I'm twenty-seven years old, not a child anymore, but that's what I feel right now. Nathan can care for me. Finally. It's what I've always wanted.

"Are...are you all right, Nathan?"

I can't believe where his hands have been today. I can't believe what I've survived for all of these years without. I want to kiss him. Badly. Is that a terrible thing?