2007-07-05: Peter's Busy


Nathan_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Guest Starring:


Summary: An attempt on Nathan's life fails, but… they get the next best thing, at least.

Date It Happened: 5th of July, 2007

Peter's Busy

A Country Club, Out of Manhattan

Nathan hated all of these men. Perhaps a year ago, he wouldn't feel this way at all. They were very much like the men his father had introduced him to countless times before - wealthy businessmen, lawyers, politicians, sometimes even criminals. They were American, white, rich, and exactly the demographic that he now had to pander to, at least for tonight. He smiled that once, after his speech, they all applauded and afterwards shook his hand and he still kind of hated them. Maybe he just needed to get used to being a politician. A year ago, this wouldn't have been so irritating. Get used to it, wannabe Senator Petrelli!

Outside the city, it was getting late, and the country club had nearly emptied. It was really only around then that Nathan could properly break away from old family friends and new acquaintances alike and go keep Peter company. He brings a glass of wine over and offers it out, despite the fact that this little event was almost over. No amount of booze in the world, Nathan was sure, could make Peter feel comfortable in this environment. "Wild night, huh?" he says dryly.

Definitely not an enviroment he's comfortable in, Peter still does his best to blend in and play nice with the big boys. A few asked awkward questions about his past, there'd only been one comment about his mental health, which he insured them has improved greatly, thanks to his brother's constant support. The smiling, the handshakes… all of it faked for the sake of the man who saved his life, and the life of a good many people. The longer the night goes on, the more he retreats to the sidelines, trying to avoid the after-speech mingling as much as possible.

A plate emptied of fingerfood is set aside, as his brother approaches, most of the room gone home, with only a few people lingering. Accepting the glass of wine, he sips generously. There's a smirk as the glass lowers, and the younger of the two brothers nods in agreement, left eyebrow arching slightly, "Interesting, at least. I'd forgotten what these were like. But winning back a few votes is a good thing." Especially if it sticks it to that Crane guy. Something about the man's speech just infuriated him.

It was a pretty low blow, even Nathan would admit. The fact that that name had managed to pop up in over half of the conversation he's had tonight has set his teeth on edge, but right now he still manages to look totally in his element. Even if he'd rather be anywhere but here, he doesn't look it. He finishes off his own drink and sets the glass aside. "If I can divide the opinions of these guys, then there's only so much mudslinging Crane can do before he starts to make himself look bad," Nathan says, almost casually. That's the plan, anyway. Attempting not to fight fire with fire.

Nathan pushes back the sleeve of his shirt and jacket to observe the time on an undoubtably overpriced watch. It's late, but not too late, if they head out now. "Feel like grabbing a beer?" he says. "You can tell me whatever it is you wanted to tell me." He's distantly aware that Peter mentioned wanting to catch a conversation with him, but it's been a busy night.

Honestly, Peter just wishes that they could tell everyone exactly what this man had done for the people of his city, the people of the entire world… but they can't tell them that, so he'll just have to support through lies. Including his mental health problems. The ride down had consisted too much of political conversation, speech practice, and even… sleep. On Peter's part. The drive back down to Manhattan has more potential for the conversation that he wanted. "Yeah, I could use a better drink. Never been much for wine," he comments, setting the still half full glass aside next to his discarded plate of finger foods.

"Do you mind if I make a phone call, first?" he asks, already reaching into his jacket pocket — he'd dressed up in a suit and tie just for his brother — and pulling out a small black phone that has many amazing features. Not quite an iPhone (or a jPhone) but still nice. Been in his possession since his last phone misshap when Sylar fried it.

"Go ahead," Nathan says with a nod, hands sliding into his jacket pockets as he makes for the exit, flashing a smile to those last few who are also on their way out. Once outside, the concept of waiting around like a dork as Peter makes his phonecall isn't so appealing, as he adds, "I'll go bring the car around," and heads uphill towards where rows and rows of flashy and expensive cars had previously been parked. It's not quite the limo he often times gets driven around in, but it's still of the sleek-and-black variety.

Sleek and black are definitely better than most cars. Following outside, Peter turns his phone back on to check for messages first. When he doesn't find any of extreme importance, he switches to his phonebook and punches in a certain name listed near the top. Elena definitely has her own entry. Why he's choosing to call her in the mid-evening on the 5th of July is anyone's guess— but he would have told her he was heading out of town for a short trip with his brother and he'd be back soon (and hopefully not make the paper). The number is dialed automatically as he moves further into the nearly empty parking area of the country club for the better reception. It's still pretty good. Rich people pay well for good reception where their country clubs are.

There's something to be said about getting driven everywhere. It's certainly a luxury that Nathan can afford. But men here liked their cars - everything seemed to boil down to politics, golf and cars, as far as Nathan could reckon it - and so there was his attempt to fit in. It's a nice car, at the very least. Pulling out of the parking lot and heading back downhill, Nathan at first doesn't notice anything wrong with the car… save for when he goes to slow down a bit and the momentum, instead, just keeps going. Tentatively, he presses down on the brake, and nothing happens. If anything, speed picks up. "Well. Great," he mutters. He'll wait for level ground before handbraking, which is a sound plan, it truly is. Doesn't mean he's happy about it, or any less tense. The car shudders slightly as it goes too fast over a rougher patch of road.

Oblivious of the fact that the caller knows certain things she was hoping he forgot, Elena picks up. There's a faint hubbub in the background. Actually, it's downright LOUD. "Peter? Hang on a second, okay?" she calls over the din, and the sounds of shuffling, more people, loud music, can be heard through the earpiece. After a thud, and the sound of a door opening and closing, the young woman sounds a little breathless. "Ugh! Finally, some air. What's up?"

"…Are you at a dance club or something?" Peter can't help but ask, as he turns back towards the building he'd just left, standing pretty much in the middle of the parking lot. Not facing the vehicle, he has no idea of the dilemna facing his older brother, and instead seems concerned about the sounds he hears behind her voice on the other side of the line. Yes, he knows things she'd hoped he'd forgotten, but he's not about to mention those at the moment. He hasn't yet, why would he now? "We just got out of the… political pandering. Just…" Wanted to hear her voice after hours in hell?

"Sort of, but not really. I'm with my dance group," Elena says cheerfully on the other land. "We're battling Columbia University tonight as well as a bunch of other street teams….the first round just got done about ten minutes ago so now all of us are taking a breather." Probably why she sounds a little winded. "But CU are our eternal rivals for as long as I can remember." When he mentions political pandering, she laughs, though he can probably detect a wince in her voice. "That bad, huh?" she asks sympathetically.

"Your dance group— you've mentioned that before, but I still haven't seen you dance," Peter mentions, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. This has definitely improved his mood already, even if it's just hearing her voice and nothing else. Could be thinking of her has activated her ability and allowed some feel-good chemicals to start flowing. It is possible… but he doubts that's what it is at all… "Could have been worse, but it was pretty bad— least I'll have time to talk to Nathan on the way home. Have a few things we need to talk about still."

He can practically sense her grinning on the other line. "Well, you wanted to get together at some point next week anyway, right? With Heidi?" Elena asks. "Why don't you stop by practice? We meet three times a week on campus. If you don't mind the extra time it takes me to take a quick shower after that, we can head on over to meet Heidi somewhere." She figures it would do him better to go to a practice instead of an actual competition, where there's loud music, alcohol, and throngs of hardcore street performers milling around. Unless he really wants to go to one in which case she won't stop him. When he mentions the talk with Nathan… "Oh? What about?" she asks curiously.

At the very least, the space will be completely empty. Right? Nathan can just swerve and handbrake and then maybe yell at his car a lot after getting Peter to call the usual car company. That's as far as his plans go, for now, and Nathan concentrates on not veering off the road and, say, accidentally ramming the front end of his car into the country club. That would probably undo all of the work he did tonight. Another shudder from his poor car as flat land is approached, and he curses, hand gripping the steering wheel even tighter, the other moving to the handbrake.

And that's when his headlights light up the solitary figure standing in the middle of the parking lot. With an even cruder curse and a compulsive jerk of his arm, the handbrake is levered, car wheels screeching the only warning either brother gets before the vehicle barrels straight into Peter.

The grin is shared between them, even if they can't see it. They can hear it in each other's voices. Within moments, Peter's mood is lighter and it shows in his responses, "Sure, we can do that— I'm sure Heidi wouldn't mind seeing you dance." And he probably wouldn't either, would he? "Oh, I— just need to talk to him about the boys. They…" Whatever he was going to say is cut off as background noise filters through the line, specifically the sound of screetching tires. Turning towards the noise, he sees the headlights and the car, and doesn't even have much of a second to react.

With the handbrake tries best to control the speed, when he gets hit, he gets hit hard, slamming into the front of the car. The phone, somehow, remains in his hand, as if clenched reflexively by his fingers. At the uncontrolled speed, he ends up rolling onto the front of the car, over the top, and then ending up on the other side, twisted in a rather unpleasing angle.

The sound over the phone wouldn't be pleasant, between screeching tires, crunching metal and then the found of body against asphault. By some miracle his phone doesn't die. Can't say the same for the person holding it. And the /car/ might need some body work afterwards. And a wash. And new brakes.


All this and more, should this scene be written as a comic book. Complete with blood and speed lines everywhere.

Elena's eyes widen at what she hears over the phone, and then, there's blessed silence. Wait, what was he— what did— what just HAPPENED? She was still connected to Peter's phone, but he isn't talking anymore. "……Peter…?" she broaches hesitantly.

What sound does a person make when they're toppled over a car? Hard to describe, but it's loud. With a swerve, the car finally makes it's hitching halt, the motor still purring innocently, and very slowly as if fearing something might explode, Nathan switches it off. That didn't just happen, did it? A smear of blood on his windscreen indicates otherwise, and with hands that are on the verge of shaking, he removes the seatbelt and pushes open the car door, stumbling out.

Not really wanting to look, but forcing himself to anyway, he sees Peter lying on the pavement, limbs and body in general bent at unnatural angles. "Peter!" he yells, as if that would do anything, legs carrying him over at a run while his brain is still wondering what the hell just happened. "Peter, oh god, are— " Peter stares not up at him, but at the sky, and unblinking, and Nathan crouches down beside him. The only trick he knows is pulling glass out of the back of Peter's head and there's no glass involved. His hand rests on his brother's arm, and when he sees the phone still clutched in one hand, Nathan picks it up, glancing at the screen. Elena. Still reeling, he does what anyone does with a phone that needs answering. He answers it. "Hello?" he says, hollowly. He definitely sounds a shell shocked. "This is— uh. Nathan. Peter's busy."

There is silence. A long, drawn out bout of silence.

When Elena speaks it is slow, someone who is making a -tremenduous effort- in not being accusatory, or being terribly worried. Who the hell WOULDN'T BE after hearing all that? A loud squealing, a crash, and then NATHAN picking up the phone? "…..Nate?" Another pause. "….do I want to know what happened?" Of COURSE she does, but it was better than asking: WHAT DID YOU DO?!

"…no," Nathan says, not really able to take his eyes off Peter. Who needs to at least start twitching, any time soon. When you're ready, Pete. He switches the phone to the other hand and ear so he can stop being spineless and perhaps check Peter's pulse, which proves very inconclusive. Possibly because he's panicking and not actually focusing. He forces himself to stop, takes a breath, and in very reasonable tones he informs Elena, "Someone did something to the brakes of my car, and Peter— " Isn't dead. Except he is. But it has to be only temporary. "Well he shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the goddamn road."

"…..WHAT?!" Elena can't help but blurt it out. She furrows her brows. Well, of course Nathan would know. Peter mentioned they were driving up there. And given they got there safely? She was sure the brakes were working -just fine- then. She pauses. "….well only one way to know for sure. After Peter…." Oh god. Just how much was he salsa'd by the car? "….wakes up….you can always look under the car, see if it's leaking." Having a brother for a motorhead has its advantages, she at least knows that brakes operate on wires and brake fluid. "….how bad was it?" She can't help it now, the worry. "And are -YOU- alright?! Do you need me to call Heidi?"


As requested, there is a twitch, and then a cough, and Peter starts to move, twisting a bit in a groan of pain. It's going to take a bit for him to fully put himself together as his eyes look around disoriented. But hey, at least he's /alive/. That's more than he was a moment before.

Peter kind of cartwheeled, sort of, over the top of the car. Insane. Nathan tries not to relive this particular image over and over but it was kind of spectacular. But at least, he manages to listen to Elena, now simply kneeling next to Peter and waiting. How bad was it? Nathan answers the easier questions first. "I'm fine," he says. He sounds a bit more himself, less shaky and not irrationally snappish. "No, don't call Heidi, I'll…" He trails off just as he spots movement, and can't help but shuffle back a little as Peter… starts moving and rearranging. Like something out of a horror film. "Hold on, he's. Yeah." As soon as it appears that the worst of the injuries are over, Nathan reaches out to grip Peter's (hopefully not dislocated) shoulder, giving his disorientation something to focus on.

"Okay….I'm glad you're both alright," Elena murmurs, and by the sound of her tone, she seems to be relaxing a bit. She hears the noises in the background, but she waits patiently at the phone, clutching it a little tighter than she should be. But someone…just tried to kill -Nathan-. What the hell? Was it because of said political pandering?

"What— ?" That's about as much as Peter can manage at first, as his head heals over first, leaving a good deal of blood plastered to his hair and the collar of his fancy suit. Once his arm is in place, and the twist of his torso, the only thing left to unravel are his legs. The hand is felt, and he looks down towards it, then up the arm to his brother. "What— what happened?" he asks with a cough, as his lungs try to settle again. Only now does he look down at the rest of his body and try to straighten out his legs with a grunt of pain.

The sound of bones snapping back into place is more than a little gruesome. Nathan glances down at Peter's legs then quickly back up to his face. That's a lot of blood. He keeps that hand on Peter's shoulder, lowering the phone. "My car— I ran into you," Nathan says, going for the easy-to-digest statement rather than the whole explanation first. But Peter's eyes are focusing again, so he adds, "Someone messed with the brakes of my car, I couldn't stop it in time. Are you— you're gonna be okay?" Please say yes.

"You— ran into me?" Peter says, reaching up to touch his head. That'd probably been what really killed him, though rolling over the roof hadn't helped with the rest of his body. At least everything got put back together in the right places. But what's said next makes him look back sharply at his brother, suddenly a lot more worried. "What— they messed with your brakes? Are you okay?" Yeah, worrying about the guy who doesn't come back from the dead… "..Yeah, I'll be fine. Just… wait, I was on the phone with Elena…" He looks towards the phone in his brother's hand.

"I'm fine," Nathan repeats, just relieved that Peter is responding coherently. Peter will find his arm gripped and then pulled into a brief but intense hug from his older brother, before released again after a few more seconds. Possibly to avoid too much blood smearing over his own suit. "Yeah, she— " Now Nathan glances at the phone. Still connected. He puts it up to his ear again. "Uh. He's back now," he says, then just shakes his head and hands the cell over. "I'm gonna check on my damn car," Nathan says, pushing himself up to stand. To check for brake fluid, like he was told - also to check out the inevitably Peter-sized dent.

He's back now? Elena sags a little bit in relief. "…..Peter did you DIE?" And she means this literally. She can't help the worry in her voice, as if she were ready to go there -right now- to save him and Nathan. Even if she was such a wussy one or both of them would need to act as a meatshield anyway if there was a danger. "Nathan said someone messed with his brakes, you should call the police!"

"Okay— just— I'll join you in a minute," Peter says to his brother, accepting the hug with closed eyes, before he takes the phone. The worried voice surprises him, though it really shouldn't. "Think so," he responds in a hoarse voice, still looking down at his body for anything that needs to be physically shoved back into place. Unlike the time she saw him die, he actually has to put effort to make sure he's whole again when this all ends. As usual, he misses something, and again, it's his ankle. It doesn't hurt anymore, but it will in a moment, "Just a second…" he chokes out, before he bends over to crack the ankle back into place. There's another groan of pain. "Yeah— he mentioned that," he says, still sounding as if he's hurting. "Not sure we can— it'll be obvious he hit /something/…"

She winces at what she's hearing in the background, and he does sound like he's in pain. But it'll go away in a few moments. She'd rather NOT know how bad it was in retrospect. "At least he didn't sound hurt," Elena murmurs. Because any damage to Nathan would be a little more permanent. But when he says it's going to be obvious Nathan hit something, she groans. "…..I don't know maybe…you can say you hit a deer, or a moose?" A moose? "….wait, those are further north." She takes a deep breath. They'll probably look for a deer carcass. "Alright. Are…you….going to be okay?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah— he looks okay. Would've been worse if he hit a tree— or the building." Not only would it cost votes, but Peter's not thinking his brother will remember a seat belt too often. He flew out of the convertable for a reason, after all… And trees and buildings don't move as well as human bodies do— so the impact wasn't as difficult on the driver. "Guess we could say we hit a deer— or a coyote— and that it limped off. But… it'll be up to Nathan… I— I'll need to go disappear, though." Go home, get a shower, change clothes— if they see him at the site they'll KNOW who got hit… "Trust me, cops don't handle people covered in their own blood without a scratch without a lot of questions…" And lawyers will need to be paid. It's a big thing.

"Sounds like you've had a bit of personal experience," Elena observes. She knows that Peter was involved in the first Save-the-World adventure…or the first in recent memory anyway. He was bound to run into a wee bit of trouble, especially since he seems to attract it rather easily. "You could always fly and meet up somewhere. Didn't you say you needed to talk to your brother?" she prompts. Her worry is abating somewhat - he's alive. But it's hard to worry TOO much over someone who can't DIE unless his head was lopped off. Nathan though is another story…someone just tried to KILL him. Perhaps tried to kill them both, but it was -Nathan's- car… "….I'm starting to think I'm bad luck," she says with a small, somewhat tense laugh. He gets shot at when she's around, her brother kills him, now he gets run over while she's on the phone with him.

"It's not you," Peter tries to assure, voice settling a bit, and it actually sounds as if he's trying to stand up. In fact he is, pushing himself to his feet and groaning one last time as some bones fall into place. "Trust me— not you. Died a bunch of times when you weren't involved. Never hit by a car, though. Fell on one once." But that's the closest he has been to it. "Probably hang around invisible, until Nathan gets things settled. Probably need another car— I'll figure it out." There's a pause, a sound similar to verbal frowning in his voice, "Sorry. Wish this didn't keep happening around you." Just because he can die and come back, doesn't mean he /likes it/… Dying multiple times is not fun, for the record, even if his niece pushed it off as not a big deal. "I'll give you a call in the morning— might not get home til late with all that's going on."

She laughs. It sounds a little more genuine this time. "You don't need to check in with me like I'm the operator to some super secret organization bent on saving the world from itself you know," Elena teases. She can't help it, though to her credit she doesn't realize a lot of things. "It's alright, it's not like this sort of thing is your fault. I know it can't be too enjoyable. But I'll talk to you tomorrow, then….be safe. And take care of your brother."

Meanwhile, Nathan stands at the front of his car, hands laced behind his neck as he simply stares. The hood is dented, the glass is bloodied up, the roof definitely has its own suspicious scratches and markings. There is no question he ran into something. Can't call the cops, they'll ask where the injured victim is. Therefore, can't get some real assistance into finding who the hell did this. Nathan has his own guesses, however. Ducking, he observes under the car. Brake fluid is, as expected, dripping steadily. What if Peter had come with him? They could still be driving now on a highway, faster and then rolling and plunging into a car accident not everyone can just come alive from… what if he'd asked Heidi to come along…

Nathan leans a hand against his car, trying to figure out what to do next. Now that Peter is not staying dead, he just feels pissed off and a little helpless. After a moment, he starts moving back towards Peter, his expression like thunder.

"Sure seems to happen to me a lot, though. Just because I can die and come back, it'd be nice if I didn't all the time," Peter says with a hint of a laugh, though it's not genuine at all. "I'll try to make the most of this life, make it last a little longer." Who knows how many he has left, right? "I'll take care of him— talk to you later… Elena." There'd been a pause just before her name, before he moves the phone to hang up, looking towards his brother, approaching with thunder in his eyes. "Definitely cut brakes?" he asks tentatively, though from the look… he already knows the answer.

Nathan comes to stand in front of Peter, still studying him, as if waiting for him to collapse at any moment. By now, he has his own cellphone in his hand, although he's not entirely sure who to call, yet. Still, the intention is there. "Yeah," he answers, letting out a restless sigh and glancing back at his car over his shoulder. "Not to mention dented to hell and back. I can't call the cops on this but maybe I can get it towed away, make sure they don't ask questions…" This trails off almost into a mutter, as if he's thinking out loud.

"Right— guess you don't think they'd believe a deer or a coyote that got up and limped away while you called the cops?" Peter's pretty sure it could happen, even if he'd feel sorry for the poor animal. He's not really sure if a person dent looks different from a medium size animal dent… "I know my being here won't help things, either." Folding up his phone, he shoves it away in his bloodied jacket, before he moves back towards his brother. "The important part is we're okay— but if this happens again…" What if the boys had been in the car? Or Heidi? They both have the same concerns. "Might be best if you have someone investigate this…"

"Maybe," Nathan says, looking back at Peter. Would they believe that? Would they investigate any further… as far as inspecting the dents, the blood? The cops on his side would be pretty ideal, if he could get away with it. For all intents and purposes, he agrees - but he still seems divided. "If I'm gonna call the police, you'd want to get out of here. We can say you took off before I did," he says, uncertainty laced in his usually very certain tone of voice.

"I can hang around until you're done talking to them," Peter says, looking around for a moment before… fading out of visibility. When he fades back in, he's got a small hint of a smile on his face, and then he gestures over towards a tree. "I can wait over there." It'd be a lot less boring to go on ahead and use another ability to get home faster and showered and changed… but if someone's trying to kill his brother, he'd rather keep him in sight. "When the driver gets here…" Because hopefully the cops won't take him in or anything, "…just hold the door open for me until I tap your arm to show that I'm in." Most people ignore what they can't see. He learned that even when he slammed his shoulder into people walking down the streets of the city.

Nathan looks about to argue, that it's fine, he can handle this by himself… then his shoulders slump just a fraction. If something happens, perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to have Peter hanging around. "Fine," he allows, as he starts to dial his phone. "Just— " Cautious glance Pete's way. "Don't exhaust yourself. Last thing I need is you in a coma." The phone is pressed to his ear. "Try and explain that one away." With that, he turns his shoulder to Peter, concentrating on what he's going to be saying.

"I'll be careful," Peter responds, even as his brother turns away, he'll almost get a touch on the shoulder… until he sees the blood still on his hands. If there's any blood on his brother right now, he doesn't need anymore. "I'll be watching. In case anything looks funny, I can text you," he adds outloud, before he fades from sight and moves over to the tree. To watch and wait. He can turn off the sounds of his cellphone and handle voiceless commentary if needed. But that's only if something looks wrong… If something looks /really/ wrong… he'll do something more direct.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License