No Vindication
becomesalion
He never felt complete anymore. Like something had been torn away from him. He was incoherent for a long while. Until finally his mind was cleared of all the fog and messes. He was in that room for a long while. Passing time without anyone there. Like maybe they thought that isolation might break him. Maybe they had already broken him. He didn’t want to think in those terms. They were bitter things, stretched into something that he knew he would never entirely understand. He felt sick with the memories that wouldn’t come.
Finally his dad did come for him. His dad sat there with him and explained to him that he was his son, he wanted him to know that he considered him that. A proud shining moment when he was born, he had come to be what his dad had wanted. It was a lie. It was funny, the feeling he was supposed to feel didn’t come. The one that he had been anticipating for so long. His dad accepted him. And yet he was here, sitting there before him like a prisoner bowing to his master. His knees were chaffed and bruised. He didn’t like the feeling of being pushed under anymore than he had when he was younger.
He was taken out of the room though. And he could say he was grateful for that. But that feeling came with the same bitterness he was used to. The one that could only exist for his dad and him alone. The tarnished Petrelli god that he had wanted to love and more than anything wanted to be loved by. He told himself that was a long time ago. But here he was.
The nights seemed to pass in the ritual of slow motion. And he wasn’t sure how to break out of that. There was mission here and there. Regaining old strengths. And now he was with him again. Sitting across from him, watching his dad as he pondered a plan that he hadn’t told him yet. His telepathy allowed him the ability to block Peter’s. He didn’t like to be read. His dad had never intended on being an opened book.
In the quiet of the room Peter could admit to both admiring and loathing him. Easy to feel too many things at once. The feeling came with a craving for it. He wasn’t used to feeling anymore. His dad hadn’t said anything though, nothing but the shuffling of papers, nothing the heaviness of what Peter knew his dad was going to say.
Nathan was not what living up to full potential. His dad wanted a lot of things, he wanted the greatest weapon, he wanted Sylar, he wanted Peter sedate, he wanted Nathan to fill his shoes. Simple if you drew an outline and weren’t living inside the blueprint of the life you never asked for. But neither had his dad or his mom for that matter. It was always supposed to be Nathan. In his new vision, his new outlook Peter could only see his older brother as weak. He loved him still, enough that his distant mind would allow it. But he was weak.
“It’s about Nathan, isn’t it?”