Fic: Primatech 815 - Ch. 9
Fandom: Heroes (Crossover with Lost)
Characters: Ando, Bennet, Claire, Claude, Hiro, Isaac, Peter, Matt, Micah, Mohinder, Niki, Simone, Sylar (more to come)
Summary: A plane crash unites a group of strangers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Lost.
Warnings: AU, Violence, Action/Adventure, Drug use, Het, Slash, Crossover/Fusion
Peter could still remember the feeling of the punch to his face. He had been hit several times trying to defend his friend Hesam. He'd been kicked in the knee, punched in the gut, and shoved straight on his rear, but for some reason it was the punch to the face that had had the greatest impact, so to speak, on him. Peter had reasoned that it was because, until that moment, he had never been hit before and the idea of been hit in his face, to watch as a fist came soaring almost out of nowhere and connected with his eye was startling.
The boy had tried, he really had, to keep the two older children away from his friend. He had thrown a few punches and kicks himself, but the other two boys were so much bigger and stronger than he was. He could only watch as one bully pinned him to the ground while the other one continued to kick Hesam in the stomach until he started to cry.
"Jesus, Pete," Nathan sighed, keeping his eyes on the road and not bothering to look at Peter directly. "My first trip home in months and I've gotta pick you up from school for starting a fight!"
Peter bowed his head in shame at his older brother's words. Brothers weren't supposed to lecture you. They weren't supposed to chew you out worse than both your mom and dad combined. Brothers were supposed to help cover up your mistakes. They were supposed to give you a secretive wink and plan out just how to keep the news of your slip out away from your parents. Peter had always wanted Nathan to be his partner in crime, to join his side in the fight against mom and dad, but Nathan was too grown up for that. The twelve year gap between the two of them was just too wide for Nathan to look at him as anything but a child.
"I didn't start the fight," he whispered, although even before the words left his mouth, he knew they were pointless. Nathan didn't listen. Once his mind was set on a point of view it was impossible to change it.
"Yeah, and you didn't finish it either." Peter felt a blush spread across his cheeks as Nathan slowed to a stop at a red light. His brother sighed as he reached over and grasped the beer he'd been secretly drinking all afternoon and took a long gulp. A lecture was coming. One of those long ones that made Peter wish he could close his eyes and go somewhere else just so he could escape it. "You know why I joined the Navy, Pete? Because I'm a leader. When things look rough, when a crisis hits, people can turn to me and I'll be more than ready to make a tough decision. It's been that way ever since middle school; when my friends were in a pinch, they'd come to me. Even now, when you screw up, who do you go to? Me. And even when things go wrong, I know to just shake my head and brush it off."
Nathan sighed as the light changed to green. He shifted his car into drive and began circling their block for the second time. Peter wished that they could just go home, but he knew that Nathan wouldn't pull into their driveway until he was finished with his speech.
"Don't act, Peter," he told him firmly. "Don't choose to be a hero, because when you fail -- and believe me, you will fail -- it will destroy you inside. Peter, you just don't have what it takes."
Peter frowned thoughtfully down at the cooler. It felt like only yesterday that their water supply had been replenished by the all too frequent rain, now he was staring at the last eighteen bottles of fresh water. Yesterday it had been a shortage of food, now they were running low on water, and Peter still hadn't spoken to Matt about their resident serial killer. Things just seemed to jump from one crisis to another on their temporary island home.
"Are you sure this is all we have left?" Peter sighed.
"Yeah," Matt said quickly, worry clear in his tone. "Eighteen bottles and forty seven people."
"People really need to stop taking whatever they want," Claire pointed out, brushing her thick blonde locks over her shoulder. "There's no way we can make this last the day."
"What do you think we should do, Peter?"
The young man stiffened uncomfortably at the other man's question. Ever since they had crashed on this island people had been turning to him for answers and it was starting to get overwhelming. He was still young, only in his mid twenties, and had never really been in charge of such a large group of people. Yet everywhere he went someone was asking for his advice or his help. It was enough to make his head spin.
"Maybe we should put someone in charge of the rest of the water," Claire suggested.
"Or hide them," Matt put in.
"Hide them? That's a bit harsh."
"Well you said so yourself, people will just keep taking whatever they want if we don't do something."
"Yeah, but hiding it will only make people edgy. Maybe we should look for some water. What do you think Peter?"
The nurse felt his stomach tighten as he listened to the other two survivors argue. He knew that whatever he said would just further enforce his position as the de facto leader of the island and suddenly, he didn't really want that responsibility. The others could fend for themselves, they were all more than capable and if they truly needed someone to lead them, they could easily turn to Matt or Bennet. Both men were quite strong and competent, the perfect personification of a true leader.
Peter frowned, closing his eyes tightly against the blinding sun and shaking his head to clear away those ridiculous thoughts. What was he thinking? He couldn't just abandon his responsibility to these people. He wasn't thinking straight. He hadn't had a full night of sleep since... In all honesty he couldn't remember the last time he had slept peacefully. Things had been far too hectic in his life as of late. The plane crash, his ordeal in Australia, and the secret that he was now hiding from the group of survivors were all a constant presence in his mind. Even when he would lie down to sleep he couldn't quiet the troubled thoughts swirling around in his mind.
He was about to give Claire an honest response when a troubling image suddenly caught his eye. His skin paled and his eyes widened as he stared at the dark haired man in the black suit standing in the distance. The young nurse didn't even register his sudden movement as he found himself heading towards the figure cautiously. He couldn't have taken more than a few steps forward when the dark haired man turned away and disappeared into the jungle. His heart hammered and his throat tightened as he found himself sprinting towards the mysterious being, Claire’s worried cries sounding so muffled and distant to his ears.
"Nathan's gone," his mother clipped, but Peter didn't bother to look at her. Instead, he decided to keep his eyes focused on the New York City skyline, admiring the view. He missed this view. When he was younger he used to sneak into his father's office just so that he could stare out the window and watch the birds fly by. "Peter? Did you hear me? Your brother is gone."
"Yeah? And what do you want me to do about it?"
He didn't have to look at his mother to know that she was currently sending him a cold, disapproving scowl. The young nurse sighed as he listened to her high heels clicking against the polished wooden floor. She was standing at his elbow now, willing him to turn towards her with her stern gaze alone. He was ashamed when he found himself turning to face her in spite of himself.
"You have to go get him," she told him, her tone leaving no room for argument, but he did so anyway. Peter wouldn't let himself give into her so easily.
"Why? Why me?"
"Because you owe him that much after what you did-"
"What I did?" he snapped, turning to glare at his mother.
"You humiliated him Peter."
"I did the right thing! He's the crook. He deserved what he got."
The slap came so quickly that he barely had time to register the pain. The nurse gasped, cradling his assaulted cheek gently in his hands as he turned back to his mother. "He's your brother," she clipped. "You don't turn your back on family, Peter. The two of you are all I have left."
Peter frowned as she grasped his arm tightly in her boney hands. As much as he wanted to fight it, the guilt was starting to build inside of him, filling up his stomach and spreading throughout his entire body. Even now, it was hard to justify what he had done to Nathan. As much as he would have liked to brush off the responsibility it was still going to find him, torturing him until he did the right thing and brought his brother back home to his family.
"Where is he?"
His heart was pounding in his ears and his vision was starting to blur at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself. A voice in the back of his mind told him to turn around and return to the beach, that he was dehydrated and most likely hallucinating, but something else was screaming over that voice, saying that he had to follow his vision. Even if he wanted to he couldn't stop chasing the suited man.
The nurse panted, as he slowed down, resting his heated body heavily against a thin tree. Sweat was pouring down his face and his legs felt like rubber, but he'd found him. The suited man was just a few inches away. His back was turned towards him as he stood stock still, as if he were studying some important work of art instead of a tangle of bushes and trees. If only he could just reach over and touch him.
Pushing himself off of the plant, Peter willed his wobbling legs to carry him over to the figure's broad back. He reached towards him, his hands trembling, only to have the man slowly turn around.
Peter's heart came to a crashing halt and his insides turned to ice as the man turned to face him, an eerily peaceful smile spread across his strong face and a far off look shining in his deep brown eyes. The nurse barely registered as his legs gave out under his weight and he quickly sank down to the hard ground below.
"So do you have any tea?"
Claude scowled as he looked up to see the pale young man with the thick black eyebrows staring down at him. When he had first started collecting goods along the beach, he had expected the other crash survivors to start eying his stash, but Eyebrows was the last person he would have thought would ask him for anything. His scowl quickly turned into a smug smirk as he turned his eyes back towards his book. It was certainly pleasant to know he had this sort of influence on people.
"Tea?" he repeated.
"Yeah, tea. Bags? Leaves? Anything like that?"
"An' why would you want tea?"
Claude could practically feel the young man's look darken as he calmly flipped the page in his book. Eyebrows was probably used to people doing whatever he wanted when he pinned them with his fierce looks, but the British man was not someone who could be intimidated so easily.
"It's not for me."
The Brit laughed as understanding finally dawned on him. "I see," he chuckled. "For him, huh? How long you two been together?"
He watched as Eyebrows visibly stiffened with discomfort, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "It's... We're not like that."
"Sure seems that way ta me," he smirked. "Tell ya what, catch me a fish, and I'll give ya your tea."
"A fish?" he repeated skeptically. "Couldn't you do that yourself?"
Claude nodded slowly. "I could," he agreed. "But then ya wouldn't have any tea, now would ya?"
"So we're running out of water and Peter decides to have an episode," Matt grumbled, shaking his head miserably.
It was just his luck to be stuck on a deserted island with a group of emotionally damaged weirdoes. The Indian man, Mohinder, had been a hollow shell of himself ever since the blonde marshal’s death and his creepy boyfriend wasn't exactly someone you'd want to turn to in a crisis. The two Asian men had been doing their best to stay out of sight ever since they'd crashed. Niki's only focus right now was Micah, and although Matt couldn't really blame the woman for being focused on taking care of her son, he knew from Claire's recount of the boar incident that she'd be useless in the jungle.
With Peter now running around in the jungle like a chicken with his head cut off, it looked like the only ones left to take charge was him and a sixteen year old girl. Once again, life found a way to kick him while he was still down.
"Well it's not like Peter would have been much help right now, anyway," Claire pointed out. "He's a nurse. I doubt he'd know the first thing about finding fresh water on a tropical jungle."
Matt sighed, scratching at his short hair thoughtfully. "You're right," he grumbled. "But who would know anything about that?"
Claire smiled as she nodded over towards the tall man in the horn-rimmed glasses, currently staring out at the ocean, a far too serene look in his eyes. The police officer cringed at the very sight. There was something about Bennet that just made him uneasy. His calm attitude and polite smiles felt more smug and belittling to Matt and the last thing he wanted to do was ask him for help.
"Bennet?" he asked skeptically. "You sure?"
"He caught a boar all by himself," she reminded him, "and he really seems to know his way around the jungle. If anybody can help us, it'd be him."
"And how exactly are you going to get him to do it?"
The blonde girl craned her head up and fixed him with her brightest smile. "I'll just ask him nicely."
"Fish?" Sylar stressed, trying his best to say the word as loudly and clearly as possible. Yet there were only so many times one man could repeat a word before his nerves started to run thin. He needed a fish, to get some tea bags to give to Mohinder. The fugitive was sick of his companion's moopy attitude and was hoping that a small bit of normalcy would help to lift his spirits and since the Indian man had been less than thrilled by his attempt to build them a shelter, Sylar decided it was time to try something a little less forward. "Fish!" he said again, thrusting his hand towards the clear blue ocean. "Can you get me fish?"
The Asian man frowned looking between him and the water before understanding finally dawned on him. Sylar had watched the man and his four eyed companion. He had seen the slightly taller one catching fish with little effort and he knew that if there was anyone who could help him with his task it would be him. The Japanese man nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face as if he were slowly processing something. After a while he started to ramble something off in his native tongue and Sylar quickly found himself at a loss.
The Asian sighed, running his hands over his face in frustration. He spoke again, this time much slower and pointing at his thin lips.
Sylar stiffened, hoping that he had misunderstood the shorter man's gesture. "You want me to kiss you?"
The Japanese man rolled his eyes in annoyance, pointing at the sun and then pointing back at his lips. Sun...? Lips...?
"You want lip balm?" He nodded. "For the fish?" He nodded again.
After six days of being stuck on the island, Claire still knew next to nothing about Bennet. A part of her felt a bit ashamed by that knowledge, she wanted to make an effort to get to know everyone, and after her failed attempt to hunt boar she couldn't help feeling worse. She'd originally gone into jungle hoping to attach Mohinder's antenna, but now she realized she should have at least made an effort to get closer to Bennet.
"Do you know anything about finding water?"
Bennet gave her a pleasant smile as he gazed down curiously at the blonde girl. "What?"
She laughed nervously, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. "Well, we're running low on fresh water," she explained, "and, who knows how long it'll be until it rains again."
"So you want me to find some water?" he concluded, his smile widening a bit.
"Well, uh," she fumbled nervously. She didn't want to make it seem like she was using him. "We could go look for the water together," she offered. "I mean, I feel really bad for bailing on you the other day."
He laughed, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "That's alright. You were right. Niki was hurt and needed to go back. You're a brave young woman, Claire. Your must parents be proud of you."
Claire laughed awkwardly as the tall man adjusted his glasses. "Well, uh, my mom always liked to call me a genius," she joked, rubbing her arms sheepishly. "But I'm just a cheerleader."
"Cheerleader?" he repeated. "I wouldn't have expected that. What about your dad?"
"Never met him," she admitted quietly the same, empty feeling she always got when she thought of her absent father spreading through her.
He nodded thoughtfully, noticing at last that he was making her uncomfortable. "Well, I suppose we should get moving while the sun's still up."
"What makes you think I have lip balm?" Niki asked testily, brushing a long strand of hair out of her face. "Because I'm a woman?"
"Yeah, because you're a woman," Gabriel snapped, glaring at her as she knelt down next to an abandoned suit case. "And only a woman would want to stop her lips from cracking and bleeding in this intense heat."
The blonde rolled her eyes at Gabriel's snide tone. "Okay, I guess I deserved that," she sighed, riffling through the bag. She had been searching for a hair brush for days, but hadn't found one. No brushes, no combs. You would think that every woman would pack a brush! Needless to say, her hopeless search was starting to make her a little testy. "Why do you need lip balm anyway?"
"I need it to catch a fish."
Niki frowned, pinning the pale man with a quizzical look. "Who the hell taught you to fish?"
His look darkened as he bent down closer to her. "Do you have the lip balm or don't you?"
The woman smiled as a light bulb went on in her head. "Do you think you could find me a brush?"
Gabriel cocked his head at her question. "A brush?"
"Or a comb."
"For the lip balm?"
Peter felt like his head was buzzing as he continued to stumble through the jungle. His limbs dangled from his side like limp noodles and his chest was burning. He didn't know where he was going or what he was looking for anymore. All he knew was that he had to keep going.
What he'd seen... It couldn't have been real. Nathan. His brother. Walking around in the middle of the jungle. It couldn't be! This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.
His throat burned and his whole body felt like it was melting. He slumped against a tree as he tried to process what was going on. The beach. He had to get back to the beach. The others needed him. They were out of water, running low on food, and there was a wanted fugitive wandering around among them. And where was he when all this was happening? Running around the jungle having a nervous breakdown.
A bitter laugh suddenly came bubbling out of him as he slid down to rest in the dirt. It looked like Nathan was right after all. He really didn't have what it takes.
It was only then that the sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling caught his attention. His eyes snapped open to reveal the suited figure smiling down at him. His body tingled as he scrambled to lift himself back onto his own two feet. "N-Nathan?" he gasped.
The dark haired man's smile widened as he stepped backward, slowly disappearing into the jungle again.
"Nathan wait!" Peter cried as he stumbled forward, pushing past low branches and thick bushes. He couldn't have taken more than a few steps forward before he found himself staring at a deep cavern and tumbling forward.