Fic: underground (Heroes, PG)
Dec. 4th, 2007 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosI know the theories everybody's come up with regarding the last couple of scenes in last night's Heroes, but I had a thought and wanted to get it out of my head and, hey, look, I wrote it! \o/
underground
PG, gen, spoilers for "Powerless"
***
The place they're holed up in for the night is a real dive, longhorns mounted on the walls and dollar-store watercolors of the Old West hung on cheap velvet wallpaper. It's like an oil tycoon and the madam of a bordello got into the interior decorating business on a whim and started with the Free Range Motel two exits outside of Odessa on the highway.
Parkman takes one look at it when they walk into the room and frowns, makes that face that says, "The things I put up with to save the damn world."
He certainly knows where Parkman is coming with that particular sentiment.
Three showers and an order of Chinese takeout later and he settles down with the phone on the bed nearest the bathroom, facing away from the blare of the television and Parkman licking a bit of soy sauce from his fingertips. The shooting of former Congressman-elect Nathan Petrelli is all over the news, as any shooting captured on television cameras would be. If there was one thing they could count on, it was the network feeds and their gleeful fascination with violence.
Then again, that was the point.
He dials his mother's cell phone, starts when she picks up and the sound of the news report on her TV echoes along with the one of his.
"We had to," he says. No hello, no tearful greetings. Angela Petrelli's just not the type.
She says nothing at that, so he keeps going. "We had to, Ma. We've got a plan for taking down the Company, but Nathan Petrelli has to be dead for it to work."
On the other end of the phone, and here in this hideous motel room in Texas, the news declares Nathan Petrelli has been shot. Not dead, though. Not yet. Once the doctors Parkman used his power on come forward, though, he'll be declared dead to the world, even without a body.
"I know," she finally says. "It was unavoidable."
Unavoidable that one of us had to die, right, Ma?
He wants to say it but doesn't, restrains himself.
"You do know that you've now opened Pandora's box," she says.
He nods out of habit, just picturing the behind-the-scenes chaos at the Company right now, can just imagine how much worse it'll get. "I know, Ma. Don't expect to hear from us again."
He thinks about saying that he loves her but she hangs up before he gets a chance. It's probably for the best.
He hangs up and puts the phone on the side table, runs his fingers through his still-wet hair. Pete leans over from where he's stretched out on the other side of the bed, dark circles under his eyes and the everpresent concerned look in his eyes that Nathan has missed so damn much in the last few months. He looks a little winded, understandably so. Traveling through time just to shoot your own brother, watching another version of himself ease Nathan's bleeding body to the ground, injecting his own Claire-channeling blood into Nathan's veins in the morgue while Parkman kept watch, the two of them sneaking Nathan out of the hospital ... Pete had had a pretty busy day even if you didn't count almost accidentally committing mass genocide.
"What'd she say?" he asks.
Nathan looks over at his little brother and forces a smile. "Doesn't matter," he says, then reaches out and claps Peter on the shoulder. "Us against the world, right?"
Us against the Company, is what he's really thinking. The two of us out there together, in hiding, your powers and my leadership abilities. Getting you new abilities. Gathering an army. No more secrets.
Pete probably hears him -- hell, Parkman's got to be listening in, too -- but he just grins that lopsided smile of his and says, "Yeah, Nathan. Us against the world."
underground
PG, gen, spoilers for "Powerless"
***
The place they're holed up in for the night is a real dive, longhorns mounted on the walls and dollar-store watercolors of the Old West hung on cheap velvet wallpaper. It's like an oil tycoon and the madam of a bordello got into the interior decorating business on a whim and started with the Free Range Motel two exits outside of Odessa on the highway.
Parkman takes one look at it when they walk into the room and frowns, makes that face that says, "The things I put up with to save the damn world."
He certainly knows where Parkman is coming with that particular sentiment.
Three showers and an order of Chinese takeout later and he settles down with the phone on the bed nearest the bathroom, facing away from the blare of the television and Parkman licking a bit of soy sauce from his fingertips. The shooting of former Congressman-elect Nathan Petrelli is all over the news, as any shooting captured on television cameras would be. If there was one thing they could count on, it was the network feeds and their gleeful fascination with violence.
Then again, that was the point.
He dials his mother's cell phone, starts when she picks up and the sound of the news report on her TV echoes along with the one of his.
"We had to," he says. No hello, no tearful greetings. Angela Petrelli's just not the type.
She says nothing at that, so he keeps going. "We had to, Ma. We've got a plan for taking down the Company, but Nathan Petrelli has to be dead for it to work."
On the other end of the phone, and here in this hideous motel room in Texas, the news declares Nathan Petrelli has been shot. Not dead, though. Not yet. Once the doctors Parkman used his power on come forward, though, he'll be declared dead to the world, even without a body.
"I know," she finally says. "It was unavoidable."
Unavoidable that one of us had to die, right, Ma?
He wants to say it but doesn't, restrains himself.
"You do know that you've now opened Pandora's box," she says.
He nods out of habit, just picturing the behind-the-scenes chaos at the Company right now, can just imagine how much worse it'll get. "I know, Ma. Don't expect to hear from us again."
He thinks about saying that he loves her but she hangs up before he gets a chance. It's probably for the best.
He hangs up and puts the phone on the side table, runs his fingers through his still-wet hair. Pete leans over from where he's stretched out on the other side of the bed, dark circles under his eyes and the everpresent concerned look in his eyes that Nathan has missed so damn much in the last few months. He looks a little winded, understandably so. Traveling through time just to shoot your own brother, watching another version of himself ease Nathan's bleeding body to the ground, injecting his own Claire-channeling blood into Nathan's veins in the morgue while Parkman kept watch, the two of them sneaking Nathan out of the hospital ... Pete had had a pretty busy day even if you didn't count almost accidentally committing mass genocide.
"What'd she say?" he asks.
Nathan looks over at his little brother and forces a smile. "Doesn't matter," he says, then reaches out and claps Peter on the shoulder. "Us against the world, right?"
Us against the Company, is what he's really thinking. The two of us out there together, in hiding, your powers and my leadership abilities. Getting you new abilities. Gathering an army. No more secrets.
Pete probably hears him -- hell, Parkman's got to be listening in, too -- but he just grins that lopsided smile of his and says, "Yeah, Nathan. Us against the world."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-04 03:22 pm (UTC)