Fandom: Heroes, of course.
Characters: Nathan, Peter, cameos by others.
Author: Karrenia (Karen)
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring and NBC; it is not mine.
Summary: Prompt: Gen any/all Their secret is out-how they control it for maximum advantage
Chapter 2: "His Brother's Keeper" is also there as well.
Link can be found posted on my journal here:
Title: By Their Hands
Characters: Nathan and Heidi Petrelli
Disclaimer: See Above, not mine.
Prompt #1 Het, Nathan tells his wife that he can fly.
"By Their Hands" by Karen
To tell or not to tell, that was always the question. He looked at his own reflection in the beveled glass panes of the bathroom mirror and wondered if he should consider finding their collector’s edition of the Complete Works of William Shakespeare, the Hamlet play might be worth a revisit, but then he really did not have the time these days.
Nathan discarded the random literary allusion and concentrated on running the sharp razor over the rough black bristles of his facial, finished, set it down, unscrewed the cap from his aftershave lotion and lathered his face.
Like so many other things of late, telling his wife, Heidi, about this ‘ability that he had quite suddenly manifested’ was going to be both difficult and awkward. The more so, that at the very moment he had gained the ability, his wife had lost her own ability to walk.
Nathan does not often dwell on the past, but the guilt that the accident was still his fault, even though he knows that Heidi does not openly blame, still gnaws at him, especially in the late hours of the night.
After wrestling with this question of, Nathan had finally come to a decision, he was going to tell her about the flying. He did not have a planned speech by any means, nor do he figure it would be easy, but then, as he cleaned off the shaving cream foam from his face, and looked back at his reflection. “Sometimes it was the difficult tasks that were worth the most effort and ended up being the most rewarding. Nathan shook his head, clearing it of the inevitable cobwebs, and then turned around and went out through the door into the main hallway.
Nathan stops to check on the boys, both soundly asleep in their rooms off the main hallway, and then he continues on his way, determined to see this through, no matter how much he might want to deny himself for at time. Speaking of time, it was time they had this out, one way or another.
“Hon,” Nathan whispered as he came out to the second floor sitting room, watching as the first blushes of the rising sun came in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and cast triangles of light on the cobbles of the balcony on the side of the house. At the moment, as the light touched her dark brown hair, shading it subtle hues, Nathan suddenly forgot about the accident and the mechanical wheel chair that she sat, and saw the woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago.
She turned at the sound of his wife and offered him a tired but reassuring smile. “You’re up late, or is it early, I never can tell at this between-time. You know, Nathan, I’m often up at this time., it’s kind of soothing.”
Nathan stepped towards and run a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I think I can understand that, in some ways, the part about the light, I mean.” “Come out on the terrace, there’s something you need to see, something I’ve been telling you for quite some time.”
“What do you mean?” Heidi asked, turning slightly in her seat, arms folded across her chest, but then, as she caught a look in her husband’s eye, she unfolded her arms and wheeled herself towards the open terrace doors and through. “Well, I’m all ears, just like the Cheshire Cat.”
“You always were fond of literary allusions,” replied Nathan with a wistful smile.
“Look, I really did not have a speech planned,” Nathan sighed and shifted his weight on the balls of his feet. “And before you get angry, just promise that you will hear me, though, okay?”
“I hate it when conversations start out like that, Nathan,” Heidi Petrelli remarked, one black eyebrow raised in that expression that both Nathan and their boys knew quite well.
“Yeah, so do I,” he replied as he mentally chewed over his next words like one might do with a tooth recently removed. “You see, on the night of the accident, something happened to me, and I’ve been keeping it a secret from you, from the boys, everyone.”
“By everything we hold dear, Nathan Petrelli,” Heidi silently exclaimed, Why are you doing this? Is this some kind of joke, but I will tell you honestly, it is not funny, by any means.”
“I’m sorry, love,” Nathan knelt down fumbling with trying to find something to occupy his hands and resting them on her arms. “I know but no measure that ‘sorry’ does not even remotely cover what happened to you. I’d like to be able to place the blame squarely at Linderman’s door. It would be too easy.”
“We’re not digging up that old ghost again, are we?”
“I think I have to, no matter how painful it might be. I decided a few nights ago, that I needed to tell you the truth about something that happened the night of the accident.”
“Nathan, you ‘re scaring me,” Heidi whispered.
“Hell, I’m scaring myself, but if I don’t do it now I might not be able to do it at all.”
Nathan stood up, regarded her face, trying to memorize all of the features, hold the image in his mind. “This is going to sound very weird and very crazy, and I cold just blurt it out and be done with it, but I think it’s one of those, ‘you need to see it to believe it ‘things.”
“What are you talking about” demanded Heidi with a edge of concern creeping into her voice.
“You’ll see.” With that Nathan heaved a sigh, squared his shoulders, and then he stepped forward, undid the seatbelt of his wife’s wheelchair, and reached up to pick her up bodily, carefully cradling her in his arms. “Nathan, you blithering idiot, what by all that’s sane do you think your are doing?” Put me down, this instant!”
“I will, later,” he replied. Then without any words exchanged between Nathan concentrated, focusing on making sure he did this right the first time, and stepped off the ledge of the balcony, and as soon as he registered the fact, both he and his wife were airborne.
“Heidi struggled for a bit more she also made the connection, that she was also airborne, with nothing to support but the air, and her husband’s arms. “What? How?” she trailed off. Nathan smiled and then said. “I can fly.” It’s pretty cool, huh?”
“That was the big secret?” Heidi dubiously questioned him.
“Yeah, now that my big secret is out,” Nathan grinned. “What do we do about it?”
“Fly to me Never Never Land?” she suggested returning his smile with one of her own.
“I’m a bit old to play the role of Peter Pan, but what the hey,” Nathan replied. “It’s worth a shot.” In the back of his mind he realized that as difficult as things might be of late, for this brief moment all that existed for either of them was each other.
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring and NBC Television; it is not mine.
Featuring: Angela Petrelli:
Gen prompt: How much does she really now? What is her connection to
the Haitian, and what did she mean about protecting Claire?
Word Count: approximately 500
Title: Fallout of the Past by Karen
Angela Petrelli does not often dwell on events of the past, whether a decision had been the right or the wrong one, but recent events have forced her to reexamine a few, given her own family's secrets now coming to light.
It's an uncomfortable situation taken all together, however as she has told her eldest son, there is still time for them to turn it around and with a lot of work shift things back in their favor.
Angela Petrelli waited in the dimly lit hospital room in Odessa, Texas at the bedside of her comatose youngest son, Peter, Angela held his head, squeezing his hand and willing with every fiber of her being that he would wake up, or at least with a flicker of his dark eyelashes
acknowledge that he was aware of her presence.
She did not have to understand why Peter had been so insistent on coming here, but if she understood one particular thing about her sons' very different personalities it is this; they are hard-headed stubborn men.
"At least they have that in common," she muttered aloud as she dropped Peter's hand long enough to reach over to the bedside table, pick up the water pitcher, pour a paper cup full, then open
Peter's mouth and get him to reflexively some of the liquid.
As she did so her thoughts drift back to a time during her junior year in college, shortly after a spring break vacation spent in the Carribean, and a young Haitian man she had seen so much untapped potential in that young man. She had already had quite a few connections in various circles of influence, and brought from his village in Haiti to her college in New York where he thrived. Shortly after graduation she had lost track of the young man, but she had heard good reports of him, and felt confident that he was doing well.
Almost a decade later she received an unmarked postage paid envelope in the mail, the contents of which included a photo of both the Haitian, and a young blond girl, dressed in a cheerleader's outfit,minus the trademark pompoms. Among the other letters are documents
and a few photo -copied pages from a book on genetics, Angela
sighed, and realized that sometimes events from the past have a way
of coming back in ways the one will least expect.
She of course, went and double-checked all of the facts, the dates, and came to one unavoidable and disconcerting conclusion; she was going to be a grandmother all over again, this young woman in the photos was Nathan Petrelli's illegitimate and biological daughter,
with a woman named Meredith that he had met prior to his marriage to Heidi.
She had gone to considerable effort to keep it a secret as long as she possibly could, from Nathan, from her husband, from the general public, not because she was afraid, but because she knew the potential danger of information falling into the wrong hands.
Nathan, by that time had already entered the public spotlight first as a trial lawyer and then became his stellar rise in the world of politics.
Now, with Peter in a coma, and Nathan running for congress it was more imperative than ever that the situation be handled carefully and with discretion. She knew she had tell Nathan about this Claire Bennett and she had to make a few calls to the Haitian, wherever he
was, the only thing that was not as easily solved was what to do about the girl.
Off and on she toyed with the idea of telling Nathan to do the responsible thing; such as make contact with the girl's mother, explain why he could not acknowledge the girl, and then give her the requisite alimony money.
It was not the most efficient solution, not very compassionate perhaps, but under the circumstances they could not spare much in the way of compassion or tender feelings.
Angela brushed a wisp of gray-black hair away from her eyes, telling herself that would not cry even there was no one but her comatose son to witness the hair-line crack in her tightly controlled composure.
She stood up and began pacing around the small room. And then the tears came anyway, and she angrily hurled the now empty paper cup against the far wall as hard as she could. "Damn it!" she muttered aloud and then sat back down in her chair. "Peter, wake up, just wake