2007-03-24: Peter Petrelli Cheats at Monopoly


Peter_icon.gif Mara_icon.gif Nathan_icon.gif

Summary: Youngest goes first.

Date It Happened: March 24, 2007

Peter Petrelli Cheats at Monopoly

Mount Sinai Hospital

The lovely thing about being on a constant morphine drip means it takes the edge off of potential hangovers. All the same, Mara's only ate some sort of cherry gelatin treat that seemed safe enough to consume as lunch, not trusting her stomach. The gin has been safely recapped and tucked behind her pillow. Roughly twenty minutes past noon, the laid-up woman is sitting with a copy of The Corrections in her lap. She's on page two, and has been for the past… three hours? Yeah, somebody's mind is wandering. Big time.

Is it a defense strategy, to make this next visit with Peter, rather than go alone? Perhaps. Either way, that is what happens, Nathan walking alongside Peter, approaching Mara's door and talking quietly. The conversation seems a little tense - or at least, it does on Nathan's end of things, but when is conversation not tense with him, these days? It dies, however, once they reach the door, on which he raps his knuckles before opening it and peering in. He steps aside to let Peter in first, greeting Mara with a 'hey'.

Considering the text message he got this morning, Peter isn't about to argue much with his brother. Especially not after putting him in an awkward situation with Niki the day before. He hadn't known, but still, it was awkward. Carrying a flatbox he retrieved from his apartment earlier today, he steps into the room a bit after Nathan knocks, "Good afternoon, Detective. I imagine you're bored, so I bought a game for us to play. It's not a vegetable or fruit basket, but it's better than nothing." And it's not a deck of cards, either. In fact… it's Monopoly.

Mara's book is snapped shut the moment she hears Nathan's voice and for a brief moment, she looks angry. Once her mind registers Peter's presence, she actually manages a genuine smile. "Peter. It's nice to see you. And, really, I'm going to have to insist that you call me Mara." She pointedly avoids eye contact with the elder Petrelli. "Is that…" The detective's face lights up and she sits up, setting the book aside, "You brought Monopoly? I could just kiss you for that!" She falls silent immediately and covers her mouth with one hand, looking… spooked, maybe? "You know what I meant," she mutters against her fingers.

Nathan sort of just shuffles his way in, doing the usual ritual of finding himself a chair and situating it where he wants it to be. Ignored, perhaps, but he in turn ignores the ignoring and flicks a glance Mara's way. "How're you holding up?" he asks, slipping the question in there somewhere. He also glances towards the drip of morphine, as if checking to see if she's hooked up.

What— what's going on? Peter looks between the two, obviously confused by whatever's going on here, not really understanding why his brother, who half insisted he come along, is being all quiet and avoidant. "I barely know you, Mara, it's polite to use titles. But if you keep insisting…" He moves closer, shifting the guest's table around so he can set the Monopoly game down on the table, and then find a seat. "I know what you meant. It's a figure of speech." But why did she look so startled? His brother's question covers pretty much what he was going to ask, so he just gets settled down.

"Much better, after they upped the dosage." Mara glances toward Nathan, one brow quirked as she waves the hand her IV is hooked up to. "Well," she says to Peter now, "I can't exactly call you Mister Petrelli. It gets confusing. And besides, I'm not wearing a badge. 'Detective' feels far too formal when I'm in my nightgown. I also kind of insist people use my name when visions have been passed about. I think you qualify for that more than anybody else ever has, or will."

Monopoly. Nathan busies himself with the setting up of it. It's almost a tradition, and besides, he needs to be banker to prevent any cheating. He does, however, keep an ear out for the conversation even as Mara's attention turns back to his brother. His gaze snaps up from the fake money to Peter, lifting an eyebrow. "You have her," head tilt to Mara, "power now, too? Huh." That does seem obvious, actually, but clearly it hadn't occurred to Nathan.

"You wouldn't be calling me Mr. Petrelli anyway. Nurses tend to be referred to by their first names, professionally," Peter adds on, the final argument. His profession wasn't one that required that kind of name giving. As Nathan notices when he starts to set up, all the pieces are carefully organized. It's an old board, but very much Peter's. All the money is carefully paper clipped to stay sorted and together, and all the pieces are in little baggies. Not organized at all, is he? "I only used it once," he adds, looking up towards his brother. "I'm not even sure what triggered it. "

"He saw what happened to my face," Mara explains quietly, gingerly feeling over her lip with her thumb. The stitches are out, at least. So she's on the road to looking, well… better. "I meant to tell you, but I guess we kind of got sidetracked." She smirks at the box containing the game, and the organization that's been put into it. "Looks like the one at Pop's. I always had to have everything just so. Said that's how lawyers were supposed to be. Organized." She blushes faintly, "I wouldn't have made a very good lawyer, I think."

"We had other things to talk about," Nathan agrees, with a sort of half-smile. The money is nicely bundled in that it takes no effort to divvy out the starting cash. "Not sure if being a lawyer helps much in anything other than the organisation. I still tend to lose this game."

"I'm organized, but I wouldn't have made a very good lawyer. I quit law school," Peter adds, looking towards Mara, though he's saying something of conversation that his brother would already know. Picking up the baggy with the game pieces, he pours them into his hand and then holds them out towards Mara, "Which one you wanting? I usually use the dog." Just so she knows that's kind of his piece.

"I dropped out of law school at Oxford." Mara tells Peter. She grins faintly, "I usually use the dog, too. Another thing in common, huh? I'll take the… thimble." She nods decidedly. "I didn't like the research part of it," she says of law school. "Too tedious. I'm a rather hands-on type of woman."

Nathan sort of rolls his eyes upwards at the piece-choosing, but steals the race car for himself anyway and places it neatly at the start of the board. The talk about law school sort of earns Peter a glance, but it's not an irritated one, just knowing. The drama /that/ had caused, they know it well. "I think you ended up making the right choice," he says of Mara, glancing to her.

Picking out the thimble for Mara, and the dog for himself, Peter sets them down on the board, then lets Nathan have his race car. If there'd been an airplane, he'd probably snag that. "Well, not too much in common. I could never have become a police officer, much less a detective." He slipped the title in again, didn't he? "I dropped out because it just wasn't what I wanted to do," he explains to the stranger who wasn't there when the drama unfolded. "And Nathan wasn't lying when he says he almost always loses. He usually did."

"Thank you, Nathan," Mara says gently. She almost looks ashamed. Lord only knows what she would have to be ashamed of. Awkwardly, she turns in her sitting position to reach one arm around behind her. The gin bottle is retrieved and uncapped. "Yeah, I know it's way too early for this. But I have no concept of time other than it is /dragging/." She takes a very generous drink from the bottle and then makes a face. Oh, that doesn't taste nearly as good as it did last night. Or the night before that. It just… doesn't taste very good at all. "I think you made the right choice, Peter. Your bedside manner is amazing." That may or may not have been a dig at Nathan.

"Well I'm not the one who cheats," Nathan mumbles, setting out his money neatly. Protectively. The bedside manner comment is indeed taken as a dig, but Mara just receives a 'well what do you expect' shrug from the former politician. Still, he adds on with, "Peter's a very good nurse. If he wasn't gonna survive law school, he wasn't gonna be a very happy lawyer."

"I don't cheat," Peter says, actually pointing for a moment to give emphasis. "You're just suck at Monopoly." But really, he's so surprised that, on top of all this, with the insult of how he cheats, they're both complimenting him on being a good nurse. "I'm— really not sure I'm going to be a nurse anymore. I do need to get at least a part time job, my license isn't ran out yet, but with everything happening…" Reaching towards the dice, he gives a roll to see if he goes first, highest number usually does, right?

"Youngest goes first," Mara nods as Peter picks up the dice, not realising he's just rolling for high number. She actually smirks at the exchange between brothers. The gin is brought to her lips again for another swig. "Gaw- This is bloody awful." She screws the cap onto the bottle while she waits for Peter to finish his turn before handing the booze off to him. "Could you get this out of my reach? I don't need the temptation."

Youngest goes first? That is not a fair rule. Nathan doesn't argue, however, and at Mara's passing off of the bottle, he chuckles a little. "Agreed," he says, glancing at the time. It is not Gin o' Clock.

"Well, I guess I am the youngest. Not by much, though," Peter says, counting his dice and moving the little dog the number of places. He lands on the Railroad, yes, and of course spends almost all of his money to buy it. Always buy the railroads. Never not buy the railroads. Once his move is resolved, he reaches out to take the booze, with a, "You shouldn't even have this in a- " And that would be exactly where he cuts off. There's not even a shudder, so much as he just collapses, almost falling out of the chair.

It's a fair rule when you're the only child and Mum and Pop want to make sure you /always/ go first. Mara frowns when Peter buys the railroad. Yeah, next time? We roll for it. She never loses her grip on the gin when Peter goes tumbling to the floor. Immediately, she recognises what's happened. "Oh no. Oh /no/. Nathan? Oh… Oh shit." The Psychometer sits up straighter to get a better look at Peter, feeling absolutely helpless. "Get him on his side, in case he- Sometimes I- Just get him on his side. He's having a vision. Get him on his side and then get the hell away from him. He's-"

"Peter!" Nathan is on his feet and moving, kneeling down beside his brother. Not again not again not again. Wait, what? Nathan looks up at Mara, but does as she says, rolling Peter onto his side and scooting away, hesitantly getting to his feet. "He's… are you sure it's a vision?"

"Yes… Yeah. Yeah, I know he is." Mara gives Nathan a look as the blood drains from her face. "He got a vision off… off the gin." She looks down at the bottle in her hand. "I… didn't get a vision off of the bottle. I…" She has a very deer-in-the-headlights look about her now when she looks up at the politician again. "I didn't get a vision. Because I already know what he's seeing."

"The gin?" Nathan repeats, and looks down at his brother. He doesn't speculate, but moves back to his chair, looking rather thoughtful. Then, he just sort of buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes sockets wearily. "I really hate your power, Mara."

"Get out," Mara whispers quietly. She eyes Peter the way a person might eye a wolf, or maybe a grizzly bear. Something that could snap and take your head off at any moment. "He probably won't choke me to death. You, on the other hand…" To Nathan's comment, she can't help but laugh. "Yeah, me too."

It's dark out. Sometime after twilight. Definitely past visiting hours. But this shouldn't be too surprising, considering the two people aren't in the hospital. Nathan Petrelli and Mara Damaris are sprawled out on a rooftop somewhere, staring up the the sky and sharing a bottle of gin between them.

Mara takes a long drink from the bottle. She's contemplative. "I like the rain. I like it on my skin. It's like… It's renewal." She shakes her head and smiles. "Am I making sense?"

Nathan smiles. "For someone mixing morphine with gin on a quasi-regular basis? Yeah, I think you're making some sense."

There's silence for a few moments as the two companions simply sit and enjoy it. But there's… apprehension. And something else.

"Can we do this again tomorrow, too? And the next night?" Mara blushes faintly. Apprehension is giving away to fondness.

"And forever?"

"Forever's an awfully long time." Nathan sits up and runs a hand through his hair. "And I can fly and all, but I'm no Peter Pan." The bottle of gin is capped and handed back to the injured woman. "We should head back, before they think I stole a patient."

"Thank God for that. You'd look horrendous in tights. And don't even get me started on that green leotard thing and the hat…" Mara teases. When he suggests heading back, it's as though the pain is suddenly more real. It's always there, a dull ache. But it doesn't matter. At the idea of leaving, sadness fills the detective. "Just… a few more minutes?"

The gin is out again.

"Only if we don't imagine me in tights. Ever again."


The air is thick with questions. Should I? Shouldn't I? Mara is studying Nathan and he's gazing back at her questioningly. What's on your mind, woman?

"Nathan." Without morphine, the pain is getting worse. Time grows short.

"Mara… Gotta take you back eventually."

The growing tension in the air is thick. Smothering. Nathan reaches out to tuck a strand of dark chestnut-coloured hair behind Mara's ear. He's apologetic that their excursion can't last longer.

And so is she. "I don't think it's eventually yet." And for something else. Something is building. It's now or never. If something isn't done to release the pressure, everything will explode.

Guilt. It's suffocating.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Mara leans forward and she kisses her drinking partner. It's wrong. It's so wrong. The emotions are conflicting. There's anger. There's sadness. There's delight. And there's something else. Lust? Love? It's hard to separate the two. And it's even more difficult to separate who's feeling what.

He reaches up to brush his fingers over the back of her neck. "Me too."

Not sorry enough.

"I want to do it again." One hand presses against the rooftop and holds the woman up. The other runs through Nathan's hair.


Not nearly enough.

His fingers tangle in her hair and she grabs a hand of his jacket, pulling him down on top of her when she can no longer hold herself in her upright sitting position.


"Nathan. Oh, Nathan."

The guilt is there. The guilt is ignored. They drown together in it.

His lips find her throat and then…


Being unconscious is never fun. Especially not when it lasts twenty minutes, thereabouts. As it fades out, there's a sudden jerk, and what positioning that'd been done to get Peter onto his side is pretty much ruined. Heavy gasps, and he glances around, disoriented, horrified, and it takes a few moments for his eyes to focus back in. But once they do— eyes flicker from one person in the room to the next, and then settles on his brother. Someone would think he'd just been punched in the face, or told something incredibly horrific, from the way he's looking at Nathan. Best way to describe it? Disappointment, betrayal. And he looks like he's going to be sick. If only he could stand up right now.

"Peter?" Mara eyes the younger Petrelli warily. She inwardly curses her shattered kneecap. The ability to get up and /run/ right now would be very much appreciated. "Peter, what did you see?" Please tell me it isn't what I'm pretty sure you just saw.

At the sound of a gasp, Nathan looks up from where he was studying the floor, focusing on Peter. Other things, events, conversations had surrounded that gin bottle, right? There are a million possibilities. But it doesn't seem like fate cares, particularly, when Nathan sees the expression on Peter's face. Nathan stays silent when Mara asks the questions both of them had been wondering for the last 20 minutes. Getting to his feet, he moves to offer Peter a hand up, watching him all the while.

From the way he looks away from the offered hand, and flinches at the question, Peter's not going to answer either of them. There's a strong air of guilt that joins in with the disappointment and betrayal, residual, and his own. Gripping the arm of his chair, he pushes himself to his feet, and looks towards the woman in the bed for a moment. The guilty look seems to be more for her. "I hope…" he starts, voice rather hoarse from stress, sounding like someone who'd just woken up after twenty minutes of sleep. "I hope you enjoy the game of Monopoly, Detective." And with that, he starts towards the door, brushing away his brother's hand and avoiding eye contact with him and willing himself to walk out. She might want to run, but apparently that's his first instinct too.

"Peter! You can't-" Mara watches him try to leave. "Nathan, do something! He's not strong enough to go out!" She would know. Better than anyone. "Peter, dammit! What did you /see/?" She already has a fairly good idea, judging by his reactions, but she can't run damage control if he doesn't tell her how much he saw.

"Peter. /Peter/." Nathan steps aside, however, as Peter moves towards the door, at first unwilling to physically prevent the younger Petrelli from leaving. At Mara's urging, however, he moves a few steps to put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Hey, hold up. It's not that bad, okay?"

The grab on his shoulder is really all that's needed to stop him. Peter doesn't have the physical strength to keep moving, though he does try to shrug out of the hand. It doesn't work, though. The fact that he's shaking under the grip might have to do with that. "I saw something that's none of my business," he says, voice still hoarse, and now with a tremor. Pushing again, he tries to take a few steps more, before he shakes his head, "Let go of me, Nathan. What you choose to do with your friends is your business- Rather not be there for it."

"Peter!" Mara's voice is firm as she fixes her gaze on the nurse. "Get over here and tell me what you saw. You do realise I see the future, right? Whatever you've seen has got you riled something terrible." She gestures to the chair by her bed and gives Nathan a sharp look. "You have to tell me what you saw, or we can't prevent it." Because, clearly, whatever Peter just saw needs preventing.

Nathan lets go, stepping back a few paces. His eyes are on Peter's as Mara talks, and he looks over at her. When he looks back at Peter, it's a… conflicted expression he has on his face. "We need to know," he agrees, gently.

It's fairly obvious from his expression that Peter would rather just not talk about it, by saying it outloud it would mean something more than it does. But after a few moments he does respond, voice tense, shaky— and tone very guilty, terribly guilty. Which gives away why he didn't want to talk about it. What he saw was something far more personal than what he'd seen before. "Saw the two of you. On a rooftop. Talking, drinking, and kissing…" None of his business, as he said, but a moment later he adds on, "And so you know, drinking any kind of alcohol with morphine is extremely risky. It increases the possibility of a fatal overdose."

"Would anybody shed any tears?" Mara mutters darkly, clasping her hands in her lap. "Nothing happened. It was a kiss. It was just… a kiss." Hazel eyes shut tightly. "I'm just a mess. I just needed comfort. I did something stupid. It's not going to happen again." Truth be told, she's trying to assure herself of this fact more than Peter. Or Nathan. She has no doubts that Nathan will make sure it never happens again.

"It was a mistake," Nathan confirms. Suspicions confirmed, the guarded, stoic look from before crumbles a little to show discomfort. He steps forward as to maybe do the Petrelli shoulder grip again, but thinks better of it, keeping some distance, now, between he and Peter. "And I'm sorry you had to see it." For more reasons than just what Peter is feeling. "Just… forget about it, now, okay? We all will."

"It was more than a kiss," Peter says, casting a glance towards his brother, before he moves around him and back towards the bed, tentatively reaching out and taking the bottle again. He actually pauses right before he touches it, as if afraid it will make him see more, but then he takes it away. "It's not your fault. I understand how you were feeling." Much to his regret, actually, but feeling those things about his brother would freak any young man out, thanks. And the guilt… "I know you— I know how you both felt about it. But it was none of my business." Really, that's the worst part for him. Somehow, seeing Sylar attacking her had been less personal. Maybe because it wasn't his brother. "But you shouldn't drink while you're on morphine. I should have stopped you as soon as I saw it."

"Don't worry," Mara assures Peter when he reaches for the bottle - and she hands it to him without any fuss - trying to give him a smile to go along with it, "you won't get a vision off the same object twice. Not unless you will it to happen. Or… maybe if something else happens concerning it? I'm not sure. But… you won't see it again unless you try." And she's pretty sure he has no desire to try. "Get it away," she says of the gin. Or I'm liable to test how deadly it is.

Nathan should probably be feeling more vulnerable than he looks. With Niki, months ago, this had been different. At least Peter had never seen it. At least that was nothing at stake. This was somehow a little worse, even if it was just a kiss. But like Peter said… Nathan shakes his head, almost to himself. Vulnerable? No, he still doesn't look it. More relieved that Peter seems to get it, somehow. At least on the surface. "Your business or not, it couldn't be helped," Nathan says, with a hint of a forced smile. He glances at his watch. It's barely pushing one o'clock. "I should probably get going." To go and be unemployed some more.

The gin confiscated, Peter drops it into the pocket of the coat he's still wearing and adds, "I'll return this to you when you're out of here." And instead of walking towards the door, he sits right back down in the chair he nearly fell out of earlier. Well, did fall out of sort of. But that doesn't matter. He's sitting down. Picking up his piece, he puts it back at the beginning with the other two, and reclaims his cash. "You're not going anywhere, Nathan. Even if you're going to lose, you dragged me all the way out here, and we're going to play. Now sit down." From the look he gives his brother, that flickers towards Mara, he's worried about the both of them when he's making this decision. And tough, his mind is made up. He's going to jump off of this god damned roof— err— he's going to play this game of monopoly, whether they want to or not. Just ignore the shaking hand.

Mara looks at Peter as though he's sprouted a second head. "Wh- What?" She looks at the board, looks at Peter. Then, she looks at Nathan, jaw a little slack. Uhhh… What are we gonna do?

It takes Nathan a few seconds to register that, giving Peter a look of pure confusion… before he sinks into his chair, and picks up the dice. "Oldest first," he says, casting them. "You won't walk out of this one a winner, Peter."

"Only way I'd lose is if you snuck some money into your sleeve while I was unconscious," Peter says stubbornly, sitting back and allowing his brother to move first, before he shoots a glance towards Mara. He's trying to do do something, but she'll just have to read his expression, since that's all he can really do right now.

Mara catches Peter's look immediately and gives him a quizzical expression. What? She glances briefly at the board to make sure Nathan only moves the amount of spaces that he rolled on the dice.

"Now Pete, I wouldn't do /that/," Nathan says, not convincingly. Race car does indeed only race itself across the allotted number of spaces. It doesn't land on the railroad square and, as per usual in Nathan's "strategy" in Monopoly, he doesn't buy up what he lands on. If he notices what's transpiring between the other two, it's not obvious, as he hands over the dice.

Even as she's being handed the dice, because she's the next oldest, after all, they may notice Peter's forehead wrinkling, as if he's really concentrating on something. Then, she alone will hear a soft whisper, almost mistaken for something spoken out loud, but inside her mind. ~Two of you were friends before that. No reason you shouldn't be after. And you need friends right now.~ That took a lot of effort on his part, as she might notice him turning pale. A moment later he adds, still in a mental whisper. ~Lets band together and make him broke.~

Mara drops the dice onto the board when she realises what Peter's doing. His words, unspoken, startle her. She stares at him with wide eyes, Don't… You're going to hurt yourself. Before turning her glance down to the dice. "Well, look at that," she murmurs, moving to the same space Nathan occupies. Unlike the politician, she buys up the land. Peter gets a grin. Oh yeah. That sounds like a /great/ idea. Her hand reaches out to briefly squeeze the younger Petrelli's. Thank you.

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