It's a marathon, not a sprint.

"Where's Nathan?"


Sylar grinned and Peter took a step back. He was too slow and with a low growl of triumph Sylar’s fingers were digging into Peter’s arm and pulling him across the roof. His voice was happy, almost ecstatic as he explained. “I know the way things work, things like phones. I just waited until I saw your brother leave then called you and this…” he held up a small shiny box, “made your phone think it was talking to your brother’s.”

Peter pulled away and almost made it. Then they were there, at the edge of the roof and Peter was swaying and looking down. His heart was in his throat and everything he’d eaten that day threatened to come back up. A figure ran into the alley and when he looked up, Peter saw Nathan’s beautiful, furious face. For a moment it was just Nathan and him, and Peter understood every emotion on his brother’s face; anger, worry, love and determination.


Sylar gripped his arm tighter and shouted at Nathan. “This is for keeping me from Mohinder! Didn’t you understand? He needs me! Just like you two need each other. I could see it, it’s written all over your dirty bodies. Whores, nothing but whores!”

Peter tried to get away, to throw himself backward onto the hard rooftop, but Sylar shoved him and there was nothing to catch Peter but cold, cold air. His arms pin wheeled and he saw nothing but Nathan and the ground. Suddenly Nathan was there, his hands clutching for Peter, his coat billowing out behind him. Peter grabbed onto one of Nathan’s hands with both of his.

“Nathan! Nathan! You’re flying! How are you flying?”

Nathan panted and floated and they were almost tangled together. His voice was faint and amazed. “I-I don’t know.”

Peter’s hands started to slip. He grunted and tried to hang on. “Don’t let me go!”

They spun around and around before their hands separated and Peter was weightless for one terrifying moment. Then everything went black.

~

Nathan watched in shock and stomach churning horror as Sylar shoved Peter off the roof of a six-story building. Something in Nathan snapped and suddenly he was airborne, his hands desperately grabbing for his brother. Peter said something and Nathan replied, but he had no clue what words came out of his mouth. He looked into hazel eyes as they both started to spin. He tried to keep holding on, but Peter slipped out of his hold and crashed to the ground a lot closer and slower than he should have.

Nathan landed beside him on shaky feet before he got his balance. He checked Peter’s pulse and pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. Scanning the rooftop and entrance to the alley, he didn’t see Sylar. After giving the police his location, Nathan stayed kneeling beside his brother.

Soft footsteps behind him had Nathan turning, his gun in his hand. It was The Haitian. He pointed at the building. “Find Mohinder. If he’s with Sylar, take care of him.” The Haitian nodded once and slipped into the building. Nathan knew if Sylar and The Haitian met, they’d never find Sylar’s body.

Nathan knelt next to Peter. He didn’t want to move him in case there was damage to Peter’s back. For the first time in a long time, Nathan prayed. Peter hadn’t fallen from a great distance and they were luckier than they had a right to be. Nathan didn’t believe much in luck, but if that’s what it took to save his brother, then that’s what it took. He brushed hair away from Peter’s face as the siren from the ambulance got closer.


* * * *

Two hours later, Nathan stood beside Peter’s hospital bed and tried to relax. The doctors had assured him that Peter’s sleep was a natural one. They’d do a few tests to make sure, but the doctor was pretty sure that Peter would make a full recovery.

Once he knew Peter’s status, he called Eden and told her to tell everyone they had the night off. It was very unusual, but after Nathan explained about Sylar disappearing and Mohinder in a secret location courtesy of The Haitian, she understood.

Nathan grabbed some chalky coffee and a stale sandwich before heading back to Peter’s room. He sat and watched the news, the sound on the television turned down. After eating and washing his hands and face he settled down with an extra blanket one of the nurses had given him. He knew they all thought he was a devoted big brother and he was, but he and Peter were more than that. More than anything anyone could comprehend.

It had been them against everyone and everything else for so long they didn’t know how to function without each other. Some would say that was unhealthy, but it worked for them and he saw no reason to change it. He knew from first hand experience that there were people out there waiting to use you up and throw you away.

After their parents died, Nathan knew the only way he and Peter could stay together was to disappear. He’d counted on the overburdened children services not to look too hard for them. Years later, they were safe to come back to the city of their birth. By then they’d lived life on the opposite side of the law too long to ever gain back some type of rich upper-class respectability.

He could have spent a fair amount of money and bought their way back into the upper crust of New York society, but Peter vetoed that idea and Nathan didn’t care enough to argue.

From the early days of barely scraping by, to now with multiple bank accounts, Nathan couldn’t stop trying to make sure Peter was safe. Peter mumbled and turned and Nathan stood to check on him. He ran a finger over Peter’s stubbled cheek and sat back down.

No matter what anyone thought, he knew that he hadn’t exactly done right by Peter by letting him become a hustler. At some point, while Nathan wasn’t looking Peter had developed a stubborn streak. The battle they had when Peter turned eighteen was probably still being talked about back in Chicago.

There had been shouting, screaming and punching. There’d also been serious threats of being disowned – Peter had laughed at that. Then his brother had looked at him, tilted his head a little and simply told him he’d do it here, under Nathan’s eye with Nathan’s help, or he’d go to some other city where Nathan would have no clue what he was doing. Then he’d kissed Nathan. More arguments were made until finally, Nathan had given in and let Peter sell his body.

Nathan suspected his brother wanted to hustle in order to show Nathan he could help out, carry his weight within their family. Peter didn’t need to hustle, but Nathan did rely on him to help keep their business together. Everything from finding new workers, to going to the police station and bailing someone out.

After a few months of watching Peter smile and charm his way through john after john, Nathan realized his brother hustled in order to try and understand how Nathan had done it. He knew Peter remembered the hard, sometimes hungry days where Nathan had come dragging in smelling like sex and cigarettes.

It was futile to try and hide the cautious, tired way he walked or his swollen mouth, so Peter with his huge brown eyes saw the results of Nathan’s job and his struggles to keep them in their one bedroom apartment.

Nathan had been desperate and trying to hide it. Peter was more laid back and with his pretty face he made a lot of money, but he didn’t know what it was like to try and balance and budget and figure out how many more blowjobs he had to give in order to buy groceries and school clothes.

Nathan had adapted quickly and discovered his smile and charm got him far. He worked hard and made connections and soon he was romancing lonely older women and men, and learning invaluable things from them.

After what happened in the alley, Nathan had no clue what to do. His first instinct was to pack Peter up and run. His second instinct was to deny that it had ever happened, but that wouldn’t work. Nathan had been brutally honest with himself for far too long. His thoughts were cut off as the door opened and Mohinder walked in with two cups of coffee. Nathan stood up, his body immediately on alert.

“What are you doing here? Where’s The Haitian?”

Mohinder stared at Peter, then looked at Nathan.

“He’s in the hall. I convinced him to bring me here.” Mohinder handed him one of the cups and sipped from the other. “I had to see how your brother was doing. After Sylar called him, he was amazing. Not once did he consider giving me over to him.”

Mohinder’s gaze changed and Nathan could almost see the intensity that was coming off the other man.

That was his brother, Nathan thought. Inspiring loyalty by just being him. After tonight he’d given serious thought to sending Mohinder away, maybe to a few friends in L.A. or Vegas, but Peter would be pissed when he woke up.

“I owe him my life.”

Nathan nodded and gazed at Peter’s sleeping form. He searched for something to say. “So what did you do before you fell into this life?”

Mohinder drank his coffee. “I was a geneticist. Cataloged and studied diseases and miracles that all started in the blood.”

Nathan perked up and something deep inside him said, ‘This is it, this is the turning point.’ He continued staring at his brother and tried to sound casual. “Have you ever heard of people developing abilities?”

Mohinder looked at him for a long moment before throwing his empty coffee cup in the trash. “What kind of abilities?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know, things like flying. Things that would cause people to doubt their sanity.”

Mohinder grew still and stared at Nathan. “How did Peter survive being thrown off that roof?”

Nathan met his gaze head-on. “All that matters is he did.” He continued with his questions. “Aren’t there cases of people doing things in life or death situations that they normally couldn’t do? Like grandmothers lifting cars off of their grandkids, or mom’s being able to drag their kids out of a raging river against the current?”

Mohinder rubbed his face. Even with stubble he was an attractive man and Nathan looked forward to the day that he found out how Mohinder got to a point where selling his body seemed like a good idea.

“Yes, there are documented cases like that. Most of the time it’s a combination of adrenaline and determination. They have to do it or the other person dies, so it happens.” He looked at Nathan again, trying to convey something with his eyes. “But flying? I’ve never heard of that. If someone told me that it was possible, I’d have to see it with my own eyes.”

Nathan got the silent message and nodded. “Is there any way to tell if someone had some sort of ability by studying their blood?”

Mohinder hesitated. “My father had some research that theorized things like this. Unfortunately he died before he could come up with a viable thesis. He’d mentioned using the Human Genome Project to find people that were the next step on mankind’s evolutionary ladder.”

He laughed. “My father had many opinions that were seen as ‘outside the box’ regarding his research.” He looked away. “I was never sure what to think of his theories. They sounded so fantastical. Maybe he was onto something.”

Nathan sat down. “I have a few contacts at NYU. If I get you some equipment can you recreate and expand upon your father’s work?”

He saw excitement in Mohinder’s eyes and realized it was the first time he’d seen the man truly smile. He was tempted to tell Mohinder that he knew research took awhile to complete and it could take the entire year.

Their original agreement could be interpreted as Mohinder working for him however Nathan saw fit to use him, but Nathan didn’t get where he was by being soft and offering up prime information like that for nothing. He’d see how Mohinder did with the research. If it took a year it would, if it didn’t then they’d work something out.

Mohinder looked at him and cocked his head to one side. “What about the hotel work?”

Nathan reminded himself that Mohinder was a very smart man. It wouldn’t do to underestimate him. “Don’t worry about it yet. I want this information first.”

Mohinder nodded and together they watched the television, its sound muted. A few hours later, Nathan woke from a light doze, and told Mohinder to go and get some rest. Mohinder blinked at him sleepily before Nathan helped him to the door and made sure The Haitian was alert enough to get them both to a safe location.

Back in Peter’s room, Nathan looked at his brother for a few minutes and then tried to go back to sleep on the weird chair that pulled out into a small cot.

He’d flown, actually caught his brother mid-air. Right after Peter’s hand slipped from his, Nathan thought Peter had flown on his own, but then he’d fallen. These thoughts followed him into sleep.

The next morning, bright and early, Peter woke up. He didn’t look surprised to see Nathan at his bedside. He did frown and ask, “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?”

Nathan moved closer to the bed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Peter touched his head. “Sylar told me he had you on some rooftop. He pulled me to the edge and I saw you down in the alley. You looked up at me then Sylar…” Peter groaned and grabbed Nathan’s hand. “He shoved me off! He pushed me. And you flew! You flew up and caught me.”

Nathan squeezed Peter’s hand and shushed him. “Don’t say that, Peter, at least not around other people. If you keep insisting I flew, they’ll put you away. Understand?”

Peter closed his eyes halfway and nodded. He was still tired and now he shook with the memory of what had happened. He whispered, “Yeah, but you flew right? I didn’t imagine that did I, or dream it?”

Nathan sighed. He wanted to lie. It would be the best thing for them both, but Peter always knew when he was lying. “Yeah, Pete. I flew. But you were too heavy, and I couldn’t hold on to you. Luckily, we were closer to the ground. All you have is a few bruises, some sore muscles. If anyone asks, though, Sylar pushed you and you landed on the fire escape. I climbed up and got you, then called for an ambulance. No flying okay?”

“Okay, got it.” Peter gestured for his cup of water. Nathan handed it to him. After he took a few sips he smiled. “When can I get out of here?”

Nathan patted Peter’s hand and sat back down. “Soon as they run a few tests and give you a clean bill of health.”

The rest of the morning was taken up by those tests and by Nathan reassuring Peter that Mohinder was safe and that the police had a good description of Sylar. He didn’t like the police getting involved, but Sylar was too unstable to try and hide what he’d done. There were certain members of the police that knew what Nathan did; though he’d never been arrested in New York. They didn’t question Nathan too closely about anything other than Sylar. He wondered if he’d get a visit from someone looking for a ‘donation.’

They barely made it in time for an afternoon check out, but they got it and Nathan called a cab to bring them home. Back at the apartment, Nathan called Eden to check on her and everyone else. After eating something, Nathan and Peter relaxed on the couch.

Nathan gave in to the insistent urge he’d had all day and dragged Peter closer until he finally had Peter lying between his legs, Peter’s head resting on Nathan’s stomach. They stayed like that, Peter for once not grumbling about Nathan playing with his hair.

They dozed for awhile, taking comfort in just being with each other. Then Peter pulled Nathan into the bedroom. In the half glow of the setting sun, Peter shrugged off his clothes and helped Nathan out of his. Nathan was used to Peter taking care of him; fixing him meals, picking out his clothes, anything Nathan wanted, Peter did. It was a heady and exciting thing and Nathan tried to do the same, but there were many times when he forgot. Peter never seemed to mind.

They were tangled together ever since Nathan had climbed through a window and pulled a pajama-clad six-year-old Peter back out. He’d never regretted taking Peter. Nathan had known they were better off together than apart.

He pulled Peter down next to him and lightly touched the bruises and reddened scrapes. He exhaled, breathing warmth over the injuries as if he could make them disappear. These marks were different than the ones Peter sometimes came home with from over enthusiastic clients. Those were different; those were the results of business.

The ones Sylar had caused were personal and Nathan wanted to savage something, someone for trying to take Peter from him. He wanted to use his hands to tear skin and his teeth to rip flesh. He was pretty much okay with feeling like this. One day he’d repay Sylar for trying to kill the only worthy thing Nathan had in his life.

“You going to fuck me or just breathe on me all night?”

Nathan laughed at Peter’s question and relaxed. He was hard, but felt no rush to get to the finish line. He wanted to take his time and just touch. One of Peter’s hands grabbed his chin and their eyes met. Peter smiled and kissed him before he did some touching of his own. Nathan groaned as Peter sucked Nathan’s fingers into his mouth.

When two of Nathan’s fingers were slick with saliva, Peter pushed them into his own body. Nathan shivered and licked Peter’s neck. He tasted like hospital soap and warm salt. He pushed his fingers in deeper and Peter spread his legs more. Nathan bit Peter’s ear lobe and said, “I need you. Don’t…just don’t scare me again, okay?”

Peter nodded as he lapped at Nathan’s lips. They broke apart and Peter panted, “Want you, want you, only you, need you so bad.”

Nathan shushed him and slipped inside tight heat with barely any slick. The friction was incredible and Nathan had to concentrate on not coming. Peter’s legs closed around his hips and pulled him closer. Nathan pushed and withdrew and pushed in again. Peter was his and he was Peter’s and in their bed, they shut everyone and everything out so that only they existed, only they mattered.

He groaned and fucked Peter while curling a hand around Peter’s dick. Rhythmic strokes: slow, rough, and Peter arched his back and came, Nathan’s name on his lips. Nathan grunted and sped up before coming and sighing. He wanted to rest on Peter as he was used to doing, but he knew his brother was sore and tired. He brushed Peter’s hair back and studied the face he knew like he knew his own.

Peter smiled at him and yawned. A worried, sleepy look crossed his face. “What do we do now?”

Nathan lay beside Peter and sighed. “I don’t know, but I’ll come up with something. I’m more worried about Sylar than about the other.”

“Do you think we can do it again?”

Nathan pulled Peter closer. “Don’t try it without me there, okay? I don’t know if it was a fluke or not.”

Peter nodded and flung one arm over Nathan’s stomach. In minutes Nathan heard his soft snores and drifted off with plans twirling through his head.


* * * *


The next morning, Nathan woke earlier than he normally did. He was a night person due to his profession and he saw plenty of sunrises as he got ready for bed, but it was strange to be up at nine in the morning. He fixed coffee and started making phone calls. He had contacts that he could reach out to, other men and women he knew, all whom worked in some way, in the sex business.

They were owners of strip clubs and adult bookstores, bars, and bathhouses. Men and women like himself that looked after people as they offered themselves for a price on corners and sidewalks. He called them all and asked about Sylar and warned about him too. He didn’t think Sylar would find someone else before he’d resolved things with Mohinder, but he couldn’t be sure about a man that threw people off of roofs.

Nathan sat on the couch and sipped coffee and thought about flying. He wondered if he could do it again. Or did he need another life or death scenario? Were there others out there that could fly? Or do other things? What was happening to him? Would it put him and Peter in danger? So many questions and he had to figure out the answers before something happened that he couldn’t control.

There were too many questions and theories and possible conclusions to keep track of it all himself. Mohinder was his best bet, his only bet right now, for information. Information was power and power helped you stay on top.

Anything this different would make the average person afraid. People feared what they didn’t understand and then they started to hate it. How could he find others? He’d rather know who could do what and where they were, than just have it be a surprise.

All the skills and charm he used in his less than legal business he’d have to now use to protect his brother. He’d have to be careful and make sure he had more than one plan for a number of scenarios. The odds of other people knowing about all of this, and wanting to know more, was pretty high.

Nathan stood in front of his living room window and watched people with their own problems and own lives walk by. He’d be ready.


The end