sirenspull | 008. Video

[ Nathan has found himself a shirt and tie, and feels a lot more like himself than he did when he arrived. He's set the NV up very carefully, framing himself against a backdrop of the city, as though he's making a political broadcast. The clear afternoon sunlight glances from a beautifully blue ocean behind the tallest of Siren's Port's buildings. ]

Reckon I've got this thing all figured out now. I understand I'm addressing all Newcomers, but I don't know how to narrow this down so I'm just talking to people who've been here longer than I have--sorry about that.

My name is Nathan Petrelli--that's Senator Petrelli. I've got a background in politics, formerly law; I was an ADA. Before that I spent some time as a pilot for the US Navy. Figure that over-qualifies me for a job down at Costco.

To that end I'm looking for someone called Raul Creed, or anyone else who can tell me about the Newcomer Political Party. Also, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to hear from anyone who can shed some light on getting back into law. Reckon all those years of study have got to qualify me for something. I'll settle for anything gets me out of this rat-hole.

Audio; Private to Peter

We need to talk.

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[ There was nothing like that kind of relief, and Nathan raked his hands back through his hair, shuddering visibly. ]

Gave me the scare of the century, there, Pete.

[ He had no idea what he really meant. It involved telepathy? Killing imaginary people, then? But it meant that he had a vague clue, but no real understanding. So as usual he spoke up anyway. ]

Killing people in your dreams isn't exactly that weird. Those last few weeks before the vote came in? [ He stumbled to a stop. Had he dreamed about killing the opposition? He'd talked about it before, with his mother, but could he remember the actual dream? The harder he tried to make some kind of connection with it, the more aware he was that the memory just wasn't there. Not even a flicker of image, just an emptiness where he believed that a memory ought to be, where his memory of his memories said it should.

He paled, then shook his head, looking back up at Peter again. ]

Sorry. I had more to tell you but it's just... [ Slipped his mind. ] Probably wasn't important.

[ Listening to Nathan, and feeling a sudden pang of guilt regarding the fact that he just boldly lied about killing people, he manages an apologetic smile before ducking his face, scuffing at the ground awkwardly. It's not that he wants to lie, but there's just some things he's not sure he can tell. Granted, he wasn't sure he could tell people about Sylar, and he managed that. Perhaps this would just have to come in time, and perhaps no matter how long Peter waited, Nathan would still want to have him dragged off by SERO or taken straight to jail if he found out.

Maybe it was better to keep quiet.

When Nathan speaks up again, about dreaming about killing people, Peter tips his head slightly, curiously, just listening. Waiting for Nathan to go on, he's not sure if he should intervene with what it is he and Sylar do inside their minds, or if he's supposed to wait for Nathan to continue on with his story. Which apparently he isn't capable of doing and suddenly Peter's not too concerned with his guilt, giving Nathan a little bit of a worried look. ]

You feeling okay? [ Taking a few steps closer, head tipped to give Nathan an intent look over. ]

You look kind of under the weather, want to grab something to eat somewhere?

[ If Peter couldn't, more like wouldn't, take care of himself, then he could at least make sure his brother was doing alright. Maybe he was simply jet-lagged from travelling inter-dimensionally, but that didn't make Peter any less concerned. ]

I'm feeling... Alright, I guess. Couldn't remember what I was going to say is all.

[ His brows were knitted together, more concerned with it than he was really planning to admit out loud, especially with Peter giving him that puppy-dog 'what's wrong with you' look that made him feel like he could never ever be sick, or late, or let him down, because his brother was just too delicate to carry on without him. ]

I don't think I can stand taking the stairs.

[ But he couldn't fly, and it was a long way down. He looked off the edge of the building again, crossing his arms over his chest. ]

Mind giving a guy a lift?

Edited 2012-05-15 18:05 (UTC)

[ Peter didn't mean to give Nathan the puppy dog look. It was simply sort of ingrained in him, to want his brother to fix the things that he couldn't, to want Nathan to be the superhero that he grew up believing he was. Peter didn't mean to put Nathan on a pedestal, if only because he didn't know how to take him back down. ]

You can't fly?

[ And that made Peter look even more concerned, because considering all the weird things that had been happening as of late, Peter had to wonder if now there was something going on affecting abilities. It didn't help that Peter hadn't seen Nathan for longer than a few minutes in what felt like forever. He didn't want anything to happen to his brother; not on his watch, not again. ]

I mean, I don't mind, I just-- [ Stepping up closer next to Nathan, he gave him a worried look, as if Nathan might drop dead from some sort of illness at any second. ] You sure you're okay?

[ Nathan just shakes his head as Peter came closer, looking up at his brother with just as much worry, but quickly smothering it. There's something very wrong with him, and he doesn't want to worry Peter any more than he already has. Letting Peter know that he's concerned would be unfair on them both.

He reached up to place his hand on Peter's shoulder, but looked over the edge. ]

I thought I was imagining it, but I got up here and I couldn't take off. It's ironic isn't it? It was the only thing I could do, and now I can't do it at all. Maybe that's what I get for pretending not to have powers any more. [ He frowned. ] It could be Sylar, it could be this place. Might just be me. My ability was never real in the first place.

[ Peter's trying not to be worried, but worrying about the fact that Nathan can't fly is so much easier than worrying about the fact that Sylar will never come back; that he's broken hearted and all he wants to do is think about something else. Though, it's almost more worrisome because what if it affects more than just Nathan?

It could mean all sorts of different things and Peter can barely keep the intense concern from bubbling over his features, because it's his brother. And he can't not be worried. And it's not as if Peter doesn't need more things to worry about. ]

We'll figure it out okay? [ Pulling Nathan into a hug, almost as much for his own benefit, Peter sighed sadly against Nathan's shoulder. ] We'll figure out what's wrong.

[ Glancing over, he held onto Nathan just a little bit tighter and finally stepped off the edge. It was a slow descent to the ground -- not so much flight but a parachuting type effect, slow and careful until they hit the sidewalk, where Peter finally let Nathan go. ]

Okay.

[ He believes his brother when it comes to powers. Peter knows how these things work, has paid more attention to all of it than anyone else, and more importantly he knows this city. If anyone can help him, Peter is it.

Not that he thinks he wants to fly any more, he just doesn't know what to do without it. It's a part of him--it's like having a piece cut out, when he'd only just come to terms with the fact that he wanted it in the first place. That he was special - like his brother, whom he loved - and he liked being special.

He held on to Peter as they descended, and when they touched down he gave the slightest effort toward taking off again; it just didn't work. He shrugged a shoulder. ]

Lunch, right?

[ Peter gave Nathan one last curious look as he let his brother go, his hands going back into his pockets. His brother was supposed to be Superman, so watching him unable to fly was concerning on a multitude of different levels.

But he'd just told his brother they'd figure it out, and so they would. He didn't know how since he didn't know why it was happening in the first place, but they'd get there. And so he nodded, tipping his head towards the street. ]

Lunch sounds good.

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