2008-01-21: Given Time

Starring:

Peter_icon.gif Logan_icon.gif

Also Featuring:

Nathan_icon.gif

Summary: Time heals all wounds, save for those left to fester. Logan and Peter have a conversation.

Date It Happened: January 21st, 2008

Given Time


A Hospital

The hallways aren't that full down near the ICU after visiting hours. There's activity in the form of nurses checking in on patients and making sure they have their medications, and a few janitors using the lack of foot traffic as a time to mop and dry the floors. One room has a woman with the full works. A heart monitor beeps, showing that she's asleep. There's vases of flowers, most having arrived throughout the day from friends and family. A new one got hand delievered, in a vace that might be recognized from her brother's apartment, with a handful of blue hyacinths. Despite all the flowers, no one's inside visiting.

A nurse checks her chart, then puts it down and moves on to the next one, leaving her alone. The door closes behind her, but there's someone looking through the window. Someone who's as transparent as the window itself. He lets out a small sigh, one that can't be easily heard, and begins to walk down the hallway, stepping around people carefully, but smudging the recently washed floor with his shoes. He can't risk being here too long— the Company will know he'd want to see his sister-in-law.

Visiting hours are done, but exceptions can be made. Because you can turn invisible, or because you're a Senator who, allegedly, just flew in from Washington and would also like to avoid the press. Coming straight towards Peter, a doctor and Senator Petrelli round the corner, talking quietly about the latter's wife's condition. Logan is mostly quiet, simply taking it all in, and doesn't ask many questions save for one: "Where is she?" The doctor points, smiles sadly, and turns to head back the way they came.

Logan moves towards the window, his face a cold, emotionless mask, but then, that could be expected, all things considered. A casual, inconspicuous coat covers the more formal attire of a daytime business suit, the tie discarded elsewhere, and absently, his fingertips search out the wedding ring on his hand and turn it a few times around his finger.

When he approaches the room, he doesn't move inside - almost wary as he approaches the window itself, peering in at the woman now knocked out, blessedly, on more medication she could ever hope for. There's a brief flicker of a reflection that moves independently, a hand that doesn't move in reality coming up to rub his face. "She's expected to make a full recovery," Logan murmurs, apparently to himself, and if there is any response for the world to hear, it doesn't show on his face. He just adds a quiet, "Given time."

It's the man who rounds the corner with the doc that makes Peter's shoes squeak once on the damp floor. He moves out of the way, almost scrambling, looking surprised. He should leave, but he doesn't— not now. Not with his brother standing right in front of him. He doesn't catch much of their conversation, but when the doctor moves away, he gets closer to his brother instead, glancing around once to make sure that there's no one in earshot. It's funny— the flicker of a reflection is unseen, but the way his brother speaks, as if to someone, is dismissed as not so much to himself, but…

"Nathan…" he whispers softly, remaining, unfortunately, invisible. His brother will have to seem like he's talking to himself even more than he already is. "I saw the news. I'm glad she'll be okay." Given time.

Part of him seems to have assumed his brother somehow knew he was there, and was even maybe talking to him. Cause he doesn't at all expect his speaking while invisible to come as a shock.

Hghfdjkg.

Logan's shoes shift a little on the freshly mopped hallway floor, body jerking just a fraction around towards this new disembodied voice, instantly guarded. "Peter," he whispers, then turns his frantically searching gaze into something wider, looking up and down the hallway to see if they have company any more than just the two (or three) of them. Unprepared, Logan doesn't stifle the other presence in his mind so smoothly, the opaque reflection in the glass window paces, independent, Logan contrastly rooted to the spot. Logan, who attempts to get his heart rate down, and pointedly ignores the presence of his alterego.

"You— where have you been? We've been trying to contact you," he murmurs, eyes searching what appears to be empty air. Or rather, Heidi has been trying to contact him, which subsequently made Logan nervous as to his brother's whereabouts.

"Sorry," the disembodied voice says, a tenser tone than normal to his voice. It's almost as if he's got quite a lot on his mind. Surely that's all it is, right? His sister-in-law is laying in a fresh car accident on the other side of the glass— that could easily explain it too. "I thought you knew I was here," he adds, moving briefly to touch his brother on the arm. The invisibility doesn't extend around him, cause he doesn't make it, but the touch should help orient for where his brother happens to be. It doesn't last long.

"I— something… bad happened and…" his voice shakes a little. It must be really bad. Peter takes in a slow breath, audible, still unaware of many things. "I— I did something— hurt someone." Hurt… Understatement. There's that tension, almost as if he's trying to keep from outright saying something much worse. "The… the Company's looking for me. I figured you were safe and Heidi— I didn't think anything would happen to her and I could…"

There's one last unseen glance around. No one else is in the hallway— the nurse won't need to check on her for a while… so he lets the invisibility drop. And he doesn't look very good at all. He hasn't shaved in a couple of days, and his clothes aren't as neatly put together as they could be— buttons undone, collar loose.

In contrast, Logan is well put together. He doesn't even seem sleep deprived. Considering the last time his wife had wound up in hospital from a car accident, he's handling it like a champ. No accusations, no sleepless pacing, no tears. Perhaps he's just hurting in new and interesting ways. No one ever said that Nathan was an easy man to understand beneath the politician veneer, after all.

He studies Peter's own wrecked self with a cursory glance, and another look towards Heidi— and the glass that separates them. It's a distraction. His hand comes out to firmly take Peter by the arm, just above the elbow, and guide him away from the hospital room. Logan really only has one question, and it comes out quickly, sharply.

"What did you do?"

As he's guided away, Peter glances back at the window, looking a little confused. The last time it happened, his brother had been a wreck— but he also blamed their father for it, and Linderman— and probably himself for having even considered going after Linderman and their father. The circumstances of the accident might explain the change, and the fact that she's slated to make a full recovery rather than being paralyzed for life, but it still gives some confusion— and distraction. "The news didn't really— it didn't give a lot of detail— why was she even out right then— why was she alone?"

It certainly isn't like her, but he's getting pulled away. The further they walk, the less secure he seems to look, shoulders almost shaking. He now longer looks around with paranoia, though, because he has a new distraction. Now would have been the perfect time for the Company to jump out of the shadows and bag him.

And it seems like he's not answering the question. Dodging it, possibly.

"I don't know, Pete," Logan says, tersely, releasing his arm once they're away from the possible view of Heidi's room. Whatever reflective surfaces are shining nearby, they show, to him, only the reality of the world. "I was in Washington." That seems to take care of any outstanding questions, and he settles his hands on Peter's shoulders. "You hurt someone," he says, as if gathering these half pieces of information. "Now the Company's doing what the Company does best and hunting you down." His hands clasp a little tighter on Peter's shoulders, as if he wants to shake him, but he refrains. "Why are you here?" he says, quieter but harsher.

"Yeah— guess you would be…" Peter says, a little regretful seeming that he won't get any answers on those questions for a while. Not until his sister-in-law can speak coherently. And his brother has reinterated the inquisition, meaning he has to answer eventually. He winces at the heavy clasping and tries to pull away, or at least makes a motion hinting to pulling away. "I'm here because Heidi was hurt— because I had to see her, see if there was anything I could do that wouldn't get noticed. She's under too much observation— I can't heal her without the nurses thinking something's up. And if she'll recover, I may not need to until later…" It's better if she's no where near involved in what's going on with him… little does he know what's going on with his own brother.

"You remember… Kaito Nakamura?" he finally asks, looking away, a hint of tension causing his eyes to tighten, almost as if he might be about to start crying. He reaches up and touches his forehead, pressing hard. There's a shivering under the grip on his shoulder. Kaito Nakamura. Old family friend of sorts, just like Bob Bishop. And recently murdered in Thailand, causing the stock of his company to drop. "He— he was one of the leaders of the Company. I— went to— to confront him about— about…" His voice breaks and he looks up, trying to seek out something in his brother's eyes. "I killed him."

Okay. New and interesting. Logan's grip on Peter's shoulders loosen, one dropping and one smoothing around to the back of Peter's neck. His reaction is in fact rather Nathan, a frown drawing at his mouth before a somewhat sly glance up and down the hallway once more, to check that they're truly alone as the conversation continues. No instant accusations, no need for them. "I remember Kaito," he confirms, with a flicker of a smirk that's a little out of place considering the recent revelation. Mom shouldn't be too happy. "What do the Company want with you? Capture?" A pause, an eyebrow raising. "Killing?"

The hint of a smirk causes him to blink. It's also the lack of accusations, the lack of his brother taking charge and trying to tell him what he should do about it. Peter's eyes glance away, almost as if he's afraid to keep looking. "It was an accident, I didn't— I tried to fix it, but it was too late…" He closes his eyes. He pulls away fully at this point, putting a few steps between them where they've ended up, his eyes flickering back to look at his brother's face again, "I don't know— mom wants me to turn myself into them. They took Elena to make me do it."

Logan lets him move away, hands sliding into his pockets. A hospital is never quiet, and the gentle sounds of people, whirring machines, distant elevators moving through shafts provides an ambience as he falls into silence. Nathan never liked these places, but it's sort of peaceful, to Logan, turning his head a little as he thinks this over in an analytical way. The news of Elena's role as Peterbait doesn't garner a reaction, too deep in thought. Inwardly, his heart is hammering, as it is wont to do when an opportunity is dancing in front of him. "Well, Pete," he says, now looking at Peter fixedly. "Maybe you should turn yourself in."

"What?" Peter asks, looking back at his brother as if he doesn't understand how he could possibly say such a thing. Not after all he went through to break him out the first time, not after… "If I give into it— it might not even get Elena out. They might just keep her too. Use her as leverage. I can't— you know what they wanted me to do last year." In fact, he knew better than he did. He only found out through a dream, and later on. It was after the fact that he found out that certain people were more involved than they should have been.

Cold eyes flash a little bit at the mention of last year, a chip on the shoulder if there ever was one, head lifting a little in defiance at Peter's balking. "You killed a man, Peter," Logan points out, quietly. "By accident or otherwise, there are laws. Now, you could ruin my life a little more by turning yourself at the nearest station, or maybe you can do the second best thing to make sure it never happens again. Our mother runs the Company, I can get Elena safe." Not that he'd try, really, but the lie is offered smoothly.

"His body was found in Thailand, Nathan— there's no way they could ever even pin it on me," Peter says, shaking his head now that it's turned to ruining his brother's life. Again. Just like old times. "The Company didn't do anything to help Sylar. What the hell do you think they'd do for me?" Though he's being harsh with his voice, it's still whispered— if in harder tones, stepping closer to his brother so that they don't need to yell to have the same inflections.

"I'm talking about justice and common decency. Just because you can cover it up doesn't mean it didn't happen, what is wrong with you," Logan rebukes, voice severe - still quiet. "And I am not talking about getting you help, I'm talking about burying you." Rein it in. He shifts uncomfortably, and in softer tones, he says, "If you can't control yourself anymore, then how many other people have to die, have to get hurt, before you learn to hold back?"

That— hit really hard. Peter stumbles away a few steps, as if he might actually end up sitting on the floor, and he looks at his brother as if he doesn't even really recognize him. Justice? Yeah, he can understand that… common decency too. He feels bad about it, but at the same time… "You don't believe that I can control it…" he says softly, voice tight. Belief. So important a thing. The lack of that belief… A calm starts to settle. Unfortunately, that's a problem too. His jaw tightens. "Good luck with your Senate seat, Nathan," he hisses between his teeth.

"Do you believe you can control it?" Logan asks, with an accusing point. His voice raises enough so that it bounces down the hallway, but no one is in the immediate vicinity to notice, it seems. All the same, his voice lowers, as does his hand as he shakes his head in disdain. "You're a murderer. You call that control?" He sounds angry, disappointed, and on the inside, he's having the time of his life.

"I didn't understand what was happening to me," Peter says, even as he keeps a distance. He ends up leaning against the far wall, looking at the floor, trying to focus on the streaks still visible from the last mopping. The water is gone, but the streaks remain. He's obviously trying to control his breathing, taking each one slowly, through teeth a majority of the time. "I didn't— You let me help Sylar and you won't even— You've killed me and I…" It's hard to argue with this, there's a betrayal rising up in him. First his mother didn't believe him, now his brother… was his mother right? Did Elena give up on him when she finally found out all that he did? When his eyes finally dart up, there's something different. "Did mom tell you to make me turn myself in? Did she offer you something— just like she offered Gabriel his freedom if he killed me?"

Logan shakes his head, slowly. "I haven't talked to her," he says, truthfully. "Does it ever occur to you that maybe we're telling you these things because it's what's best for you?" His mouth pulls into a cold smirk, detached. "No, course not. Independent Peter doesn't listen to his family, never has and never will. When it's getting to a point where your mother is putting a hit out on you, maybe you should be rethinking a few things, huh? Maybe you're not right for once in your life." A sneer, and a nod. "Thanks, I'll enjoy my Senate seat. My career. Nice to see you remember the real world." He takes a step away, to leave - not in the direction of Heidi.

The words scathe so deep that Peter almost doesn't see past how they make him feel. If it hadn't been for the worst things he'd said in the past… "I hate myself for what's happened. But I'd hoped at least my brother would still…" Have faith. Believe in him. Try, even a little bit, to save him. There's something wrong with this. "You're not even going to ask what happened?" Something that seems so decidedly out of place. "Was it— what happened to you? That it took so long for me to find you?" Jack's killed men, Niki had an alter ego. Sure, his brother beat up Sylar, but Peter couldn't really blame him for that.

"I did ask," Logan says, smoothly, his trajectory for out temporarily halted. "You dodged the question." But he can sense the shift. Pushed too far. This might be something he needs to patch up first before he can just walk away. Damnit. Pushing aside his nerves that start to frazzle a little under Peter's scrutiny, he turns back to Peter. "What happened to me?" he asks, gently. "I was captured by mad scientists and now my wife is lying unconscious down the hallway and you want to ask what happened to me?"

He did dodge. But— he made his confession moments later and… Peter can't even really argue right now, he's forcing himself to keep everything pushed inward. There's something wrong and he doesn't understand it. The frustration, the lack of faith— it makes it even more difficult to keep it closed inside. "I tried to find you," he says, letting that guilt settle in. And when he did— his brother had already suffered for days. He was already safe. Someone else rescued him. Who is Pinehearst? What did they do? Who was the man who went after him? How is all of this connected? So many questions… and none that are about to be answered anytime soon. "I'm not expecting you to drop everything to help me, but I could've… You've made mistakes too— done things you couldn't control. You were— so close— to giving up the Senate race and I supported you. I believed in you."

"I've made mistakes," Logan agrees. Nathan's made mistakes. "I've shown weakness. I never killed anyone." That's a lie, too. Even outside of any wartime scenario, outside of Peter. Just once, a man who had threatened to kill him and then rape his wife. If there was ever a time for cold-blooded murder, it was then, and Logan can applaud it, if only for the show of strength to do the hard thing. But it's not convenient for his argument. Brushed aside. "You can't come back from that," he states, glancing Peter up and down.

He can't come back from that. Peter'd spent so much energy holding it back, that when it comes down to those last words… There's just something that breaks. "Nice to know who's on my side," he says, voice thicker than a moment before. There's that look, that hint in his eyes that a fist might be flying at his brother's face in a second. The fist never even gets raised. But something's going to lash out at him either way. So much spent holding back another feeling, that he doesn't have enough energy to hold back an emotional outburst of power as a telekinetic force tries very hard to slam his brother into a wall.

A fist wouldn't have been surprising. It's happened before, numerous times, and Logan even takes half a step back, distributing his weight enough to block it, perhaps even to respond as Nathan has, on occasion, been tempted to do but never really executed. Peter is, after all, his baby brother. There's really no training that prepares Logan for what actually happens. There's a gasp from Logan as the air from his lungs is forced out, back landing against the wall and head smacking against it too, bleaching the world out for a moment. "P-Peter…" he gasps out, and it's hard to say who is saying that before Logan smoothly takes back control.

What have you done to him?

Logan ignores the harsh question from Nathan, a disembodied voice and a flash of reflection in glass and metal - he has no answer, after all, and he pushes him aside even further. He has other things to worry about. Like this. "Stop it," he growls, as if Peter were simply misbehaving.

"You didn't make me turn him in," Peter says, realizing what he's doing holding his brother up against the wall, but not dropping him either. In fact, his hand raises up, to better keep him held there. "You would have supported me murdering him. Did you think I'd come back from that just fine? Did it make it different because of what he did to the people you care about?" Maybe it did— and actually he knows it's different. "How could you let me try to help him, but you won't even try to help me?" he asks, stepping closer to whisper harshly at his brother. The pressure against the wall increases.

A pained groan is forced out of Logan, arms splayed against the wall, fixed there. His fingers twitch, but not much else. "It mattered to you," he says, voice strained. And he knows that's the wrong answer, but those weren't his decisions. They were Nathan's. "I've already— sacrificed enough— in my life— to help you." Breathless, his voice comes out a harsh rasp, unable to really raise it any louder. This is the emptiest hospital ever, it seems, and he tries to kick his heels against the wall, but nothing, just a twitch. "Can you blame me? Let me go, Peter."

"I wasn't asking for you to help me," Peter says, voice retaining that harshness. He wanted some sign of support, he wanted to make a confession of sorts. He wanted to know that his brother would still love him, no matter what he did— that there was still a way to come back from it. That would have been help enough. Instead he got everything opposite.

The pressure increases, squeezing— With how empty the hallway is, one might have to wonder if he's somehow stopped time on top of everything else. He hasn't. The lights still flicker. There's still beeping going on. But then it happens. Footsteps, shoes squeaking lightly against the floor.

Luckily, he seems to hear it. He blinks. The dark look dissolves into shock, even panic, eyes darting around as if he's not entirely sure what he was doing. The hand drops, releasing the slightly taller older man, and he turns and begins to run down the hallway— fading from sight after a few steps.

As the pressure continues, it makes it difficult to say anything. Difficult to breathe. Without the ability to give answers, what does Peter want? Something of a conclusion Logan could arrive to, but Nathan could not. A shimmer of panic goes through him as he struggles without moving, but before he considers shoving Nathan into the limelight, to endure whatever this is— Peter lets go.

In an unceremonious drop, Logan collapses to the ground, unprepared for the sudden release and ankles, knees giving out from under him with a screech of shoe soles against polished floors, the dull thud of his body hitting the ground punctuated by an 'oof!' His palms smack against the ground too as that he doesn't go completely face first, and there, he watches as Peter runs away, disappears. His ankle twinges from where it bent on impact, and for a moment, Logan rests his forehead against the back of his hand on the floor, getting his breath back.

What just happened?

"Sir!" Those approaching footsteps suddenly pick up speed as whoever— apparently an intern— comes running on over, hands out to roll him over or help him up, Logan dismissing it with words of reassurance, although he does take the offer to help up.

"Tired, is all," he tells the intern, and declines the offer to sit down somewhere. Pleading going home. Soon, he's left alone in the hallway again, running a hand through his hair and glancing in a nearby window.

Is this how it happens? Nathan, pacing like a restless, caged animal. You make everyone who ever loved me hate you?

How can Logan explain, that whatever happened to Peter just now, can't have been all him? With a scowl at his own reflection, Logan continues his exit, a little hasty, as if wary of an invisible Peter intent to finish the job. "It doesn't take a lot, Nathan," Logan mutters, glancing at the reflection that follows in each passing window. "They're just seeing your true colours, and they'll fall away…" A glance down the hallway, where the light from Heidi's room spills through her window.

"Given time."

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