![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Bought And Paid For
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 2,171
Spoilers: None
Fandom: Heroes
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Category: Nathan/Peter/Claire
He can do this.
Nathan knows how to affect indifference, move with importance. Inside he’s terrified but outside he is perfect.
The woman he talked to on the phone, Isabella he remembers with the part of his brain that remembered every campaign contributor’s name and who were their wives and who were their mistresses, is waiting for him in the foyer. She is dressed in red, a slash in the material that shows her leg off to the hip when she moves.
“Mr Tumult, we are so happy to serve you,” she says, tipping her head just so, looking him up and down beneath her lashes. She flushes prettily when he takes her hand and brushes his lips over the skin on the back of it and he knows she is as much a performer as he is. He knew it was a risk, coming to this place with such a well-known face, but as he suspected, they see the money and turn a blind eye to everything else.
“I had to see for myself. I have heard so many… good things,” he says.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to accommodate you,” she purrs.
“I only want to see the A class,” he says, making his tone clipped, all business. He sees her stiffen momentarily and wonders if he’s moved too fast, but then the smile is back.
“Most of our clients start with C and work their way-”
“I only want the best,” he snaps, trying to sound both impatient and annoyed, but not too much. Just enough for her to think that she may be losing his custom without committing himself to actually walking away.
He can’t walk away now, not when he’s so close.
”Are you sure you can do this?” Jessica asked. “It may be better if I -”
“No offense, but you’ll ping their white-trash radar as soon as you step through the door.”
She grins at him, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “Sometimes I forget. You’re more your father’s son than you realize.”
“Mr Tumult?” Isabella is looking at him warily.
“Will that be a problem?” he asks, tone clipped and Isabella’s smile is back, although more forced than before.
“Of course not,” she says. “This way.”
She leads him up a winding staircase to a third floor. There is thick, apricot-colored carpeting and mirrors every few feet. They stop at a wide set of doors that are a dark mahogany and Isabella puts her hand to a black panel on the side. The doors swing open and she sweeps her hand inside, gesturing for him to proceed her.
Nathan passes through the doorway and pauses, taking a breath to calm himself. There are kneeling figures lined up along the walls, chains securing their ankles and wrists to the floor while black collars are tied to thick rings set in the walls. Nathan counts fifteen people at first glance.
Oh God he thinks, knowing he will have to leave fourteen of them behind to whatever fate awaits them.
He takes his time, treading the ornate red carpet down the middle of the room, sparing each chained individual only the most cursory of glances. He counts to three hundred and sixty exactly in his head before he comes back and pauses by a young man with a bowed head on the left side.
He puts his fingers under the man’s chin and tilts his head up.
Peter’s hair falls away from his face.
“This one,” Nathan says, making a show of tilting Peter’s head from side to side. He brushes his knuckles down Peter’s neck but Peter’s eyes are white, unseeing.
“Ah, an interesting choice,” Isabella says, voice smoky. “A new acquisition. We had a feeling he would be popular.”
“He’s very pretty,” Nathan agrees, running a thumb across Peter’s brow and his stomach turns over.
“I will have the attendants prepare him. Why don’t you come and have a drink while you wait,” Isabella invites, tilting a delicate hand towards the door and it’s all Nathan can do to resist snapping her neck and sweeping Peter into his arms.
“Thank you,” Nathan says politely and follows her out of the room without looking back.
000
His car is waiting out the front when he’s finished his second martini and he allows Isabella to walk out with him, taking her hand again before he leaves.
“A car will be sent in three days,” she reminds him. “Any damage of course will be extra.”
He smiles and inside he feels cold. “Of course,” he says and just barely resists the urge to wipe his hand on his shirt when she releases it.
He slides into the back of the town car and sees Peter hunched up against the door, knees drawn to his chin. He’s been dressed in a plain back shirt and slacks and his feet are bare. There is a collar around his neck that looks like a simple black leather thong but Nathan knows better. Nathan’s driver puts up the privacy screen but Nathan still waits half an hour before he risks speaking.
000
“Peter?” he says carefully and Peter’s face turns toward him, seeking the sound. His eyes are still dull white and Nathan clenches his hands into fists.
“Nathan?” Peter’s voice is a dull rasp and his expression is hopeful and scared at the same time.
“Yeah kiddo, it’s me,” Nathan says and Peter lets out a wounded bark and scrabbles forward with seeking hands. Nathan meets him halfway and pulls Peter against his chest, letting out a shuddering breath. “Oh God, are you okay?” he asks even though he knows it’s a stupid question.
“Is it really you?” Peter sounds terrified and is bunching fists into Nathan’s shirt, pressing his face into Nathan’s sternum. “I kept hoping… that you’d come for me.”
“Always. Even if I have to walk through fire,” Nathan says, running his hands through Peter’s hair, both comfort and also checking for wounds. He finds the rough bump of stitches at Peter’s hairline and grimaces. “Did they hurt you?”
“Just when I got taken. They were careful after that,” Peter says. His breath hitches and he brings his face up to Nathan’s. “Nathan, I can’t see.”
“That’s temporary. It’ll wear off in a couple of days,” Nathan says, putting hands on either side of Peter’s face. “You’ll be fine.”
“No, there’s something else. Some kind of neuro-toxin they implanted. They’ll trigger it if you don’t return me or if you try to take me out of the city.”
“I know. We can do something about that too, but it’s going hurt,” Nathan says. He manhandles Peter until Peter is lying across the back seat, head in Nathan’s lap.
“I’m so tired,” Peter sighs and Nathan smiles, for the first time in weeks.
“It’s okay, I got you. You can sleep now,” he says, threading fingers through Peter’s dark strands.
000
Isaac is sitting on the steps leading up to the porch when they arrive, sketchbook across his knees. He looks up and his eyes are clear when the car pulls to a stop. He closes the book and stands slowly, relief flooding his features when Nathan gets out with Peter held carefully against his side.
“You took longer than we thought. We were getting worried,” he says.
“Let me guess, Jessica was telling everyone that there’d be two Petrellis to rescue,” he chuckles, wincing when Peter’s arms tighten around his middle, fingernails digging into his ribs. “It’s just Isaac,” he assures, voice low and lips pressed against Peter’s scalp and he feels his younger brother relax slightly.
“It’s good to see you. We feared the worst,” Isaac says but frowns when Peter turns milky eyes in his direction. Nathan gives him an I’ll tell you later flick of the chin and Isaac steps to the side, letting Nathan and Peter pass.
“Is Claire-?”
“Inside waiting,” Isaac says and Nathan gives him a nod of thanks and carefully navigates Peter up the stairs. Once they’d passed the city limits, cold fear had gripped his heart, wondering if they would make it to the cabin in time. He’d left the sunroof open just in case he had to find a faster way to get Peter where he needed to be.
“Claire?” Peter asks and there is something hopeful in his voice. Nathan doesn’t want to be petty, especially now, but he can’t help the spike of resentment he feels.
“Here!” a voice calls from further in the cabin and then the sound of thumping precedes Claire. She slides to a halt only a few inches in front of them in socked feet, hands clenching and unclenching into fists and hovering towards them, like she wants to wrench Peter out of Nathan’s arms.
“Careful, he can’t see,” Nathan warns, lowering Peter carefully onto a threadbare couch that leans drunkenly to the left. Claire drops down beside him, one leg tucked underneath her.
“Can I?” she asks, hands still dancing around Peter, desperate to touch but respecting Nathan’s warning.
Peter takes the decision out of both of their hands, bringing his hands up and reaching towards Claire’s voice. She snags his wrists and brings his arms around her and then they are clenched together, Claire burying her face in Peter’s shoulder. “I was so scared,” she says against his skin and Nathan isn’t sure he was supposed to hear it.
“I’m fine,” Peter assures. “Nathan got me out before…” He leaves the rest unsaid.
000
It takes longer than they were expecting, but it still sends Nathan’s heart trip-hammering with panic when the coffee cup Peter was nursing drops from his nerveless fingers on the second day and his eyes roll back in his head.
“Claire!” Nathan calls, catching Peter as he pitches out of the kitchen chair and lowers him carefully to the floor. Peter’s body convulses and he snaps straight and rigid, fingernails scrabbling in the wooden floorboards.
There is the sound of a body hitting the floor in the living room and a few moments later Claire is in the kitchen doorway, hair in sleepy disarray and her eyes wide and panicked. She drops to her knees by Nathan and Peter.
“Nathan, let go,” she snaps, trying to pry his arms from his rigid brother. Nathan lets go with an effort, sliding backwards and watching Claire curl herself around Peter, pressing her forehead to his. Peter flails, catching Claire under the chin with an elbow and Nathan has to admire the way she doesn’t flinch, merely curling herself tighter. “Take it, take it, take all I have,” she’s saying like a prayer, over and over again.
Peter’s convulsions taper off and he goes limp. For a second there is no sound and then Peter drags in a great lungful of air and shudders. Claire is laughing, high and shaky and on the knife-edge of hysteria. Nathan pulls himself across the floor and wraps his arms around them both, holding them pressed to him. He feels one of Claire’s hands fist in his sleeve and Peter’s lips are against his throat.
They breathe together.
000
When he wakes, Nathan tries to untangle himself from Peter without waking him when he sees Claire’s head rise up behind Peter’s shoulder. Her eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep but there is something careful in her gaze.
“Do you hate this?” she asks. Peter stirs, moving onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes before he settles again, breathing deep.
“This?” Nathan asks, playing dumb. Claire cants her head and offers a smile.
“Believe me, when I was doodling boys names on my pencil case with glitter pen, this isn’t exactly what I envisioned either.”
“Glitter pen?” Nathan prods with a smirk and Claire rolls her eyes.
“There’s no denying that we both belong to him, no matter how much either one of us wishes it were otherwise.”
“Do you?” Nathan asks, brushing fingers over Peter’s temple. In his sleep, Peter presses his face into the touch like a kitten and Nathan can’t help but smile.
“I did,” Claire admits. She sits up and leans across Peter so she can press a kiss to the corner of Nathan’s mouth. Nathan is a little surprised. Whatever this thing is between the three of them, Peter is the center and he and Claire circle him like satellites. He always thought that Peter would eventually force them to bridge the gap when he grew tired of being tugged in two directions but it seems he was wrong. It was up to one of them to make this thing work properly.
He wonders how Claire saw it first.
She lowers back down until she is curled against Peter’s side, head on his shoulder. She reaches across Peter’s chest and tugs on Nathan’s elbow. “Is there really anywhere else you need to be right now?” she asks, a grin in her voice.
“No,” Nathan says, sliding down and dropping an arm across Peter and Claire both.
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 2,171
Spoilers: None
Fandom: Heroes
By:
kellifer_ficCategory: Nathan/Peter/Claire
He can do this.
Nathan knows how to affect indifference, move with importance. Inside he’s terrified but outside he is perfect.
The woman he talked to on the phone, Isabella he remembers with the part of his brain that remembered every campaign contributor’s name and who were their wives and who were their mistresses, is waiting for him in the foyer. She is dressed in red, a slash in the material that shows her leg off to the hip when she moves.
“Mr Tumult, we are so happy to serve you,” she says, tipping her head just so, looking him up and down beneath her lashes. She flushes prettily when he takes her hand and brushes his lips over the skin on the back of it and he knows she is as much a performer as he is. He knew it was a risk, coming to this place with such a well-known face, but as he suspected, they see the money and turn a blind eye to everything else.
“I had to see for myself. I have heard so many… good things,” he says.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to accommodate you,” she purrs.
“I only want to see the A class,” he says, making his tone clipped, all business. He sees her stiffen momentarily and wonders if he’s moved too fast, but then the smile is back.
“Most of our clients start with C and work their way-”
“I only want the best,” he snaps, trying to sound both impatient and annoyed, but not too much. Just enough for her to think that she may be losing his custom without committing himself to actually walking away.
He can’t walk away now, not when he’s so close.
”Are you sure you can do this?” Jessica asked. “It may be better if I -”
“No offense, but you’ll ping their white-trash radar as soon as you step through the door.”
She grins at him, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “Sometimes I forget. You’re more your father’s son than you realize.”
“Mr Tumult?” Isabella is looking at him warily.
“Will that be a problem?” he asks, tone clipped and Isabella’s smile is back, although more forced than before.
“Of course not,” she says. “This way.”
She leads him up a winding staircase to a third floor. There is thick, apricot-colored carpeting and mirrors every few feet. They stop at a wide set of doors that are a dark mahogany and Isabella puts her hand to a black panel on the side. The doors swing open and she sweeps her hand inside, gesturing for him to proceed her.
Nathan passes through the doorway and pauses, taking a breath to calm himself. There are kneeling figures lined up along the walls, chains securing their ankles and wrists to the floor while black collars are tied to thick rings set in the walls. Nathan counts fifteen people at first glance.
Oh God he thinks, knowing he will have to leave fourteen of them behind to whatever fate awaits them.
He takes his time, treading the ornate red carpet down the middle of the room, sparing each chained individual only the most cursory of glances. He counts to three hundred and sixty exactly in his head before he comes back and pauses by a young man with a bowed head on the left side.
He puts his fingers under the man’s chin and tilts his head up.
Peter’s hair falls away from his face.
“This one,” Nathan says, making a show of tilting Peter’s head from side to side. He brushes his knuckles down Peter’s neck but Peter’s eyes are white, unseeing.
“Ah, an interesting choice,” Isabella says, voice smoky. “A new acquisition. We had a feeling he would be popular.”
“He’s very pretty,” Nathan agrees, running a thumb across Peter’s brow and his stomach turns over.
“I will have the attendants prepare him. Why don’t you come and have a drink while you wait,” Isabella invites, tilting a delicate hand towards the door and it’s all Nathan can do to resist snapping her neck and sweeping Peter into his arms.
“Thank you,” Nathan says politely and follows her out of the room without looking back.
His car is waiting out the front when he’s finished his second martini and he allows Isabella to walk out with him, taking her hand again before he leaves.
“A car will be sent in three days,” she reminds him. “Any damage of course will be extra.”
He smiles and inside he feels cold. “Of course,” he says and just barely resists the urge to wipe his hand on his shirt when she releases it.
He slides into the back of the town car and sees Peter hunched up against the door, knees drawn to his chin. He’s been dressed in a plain back shirt and slacks and his feet are bare. There is a collar around his neck that looks like a simple black leather thong but Nathan knows better. Nathan’s driver puts up the privacy screen but Nathan still waits half an hour before he risks speaking.
“Peter?” he says carefully and Peter’s face turns toward him, seeking the sound. His eyes are still dull white and Nathan clenches his hands into fists.
“Nathan?” Peter’s voice is a dull rasp and his expression is hopeful and scared at the same time.
“Yeah kiddo, it’s me,” Nathan says and Peter lets out a wounded bark and scrabbles forward with seeking hands. Nathan meets him halfway and pulls Peter against his chest, letting out a shuddering breath. “Oh God, are you okay?” he asks even though he knows it’s a stupid question.
“Is it really you?” Peter sounds terrified and is bunching fists into Nathan’s shirt, pressing his face into Nathan’s sternum. “I kept hoping… that you’d come for me.”
“Always. Even if I have to walk through fire,” Nathan says, running his hands through Peter’s hair, both comfort and also checking for wounds. He finds the rough bump of stitches at Peter’s hairline and grimaces. “Did they hurt you?”
“Just when I got taken. They were careful after that,” Peter says. His breath hitches and he brings his face up to Nathan’s. “Nathan, I can’t see.”
“That’s temporary. It’ll wear off in a couple of days,” Nathan says, putting hands on either side of Peter’s face. “You’ll be fine.”
“No, there’s something else. Some kind of neuro-toxin they implanted. They’ll trigger it if you don’t return me or if you try to take me out of the city.”
“I know. We can do something about that too, but it’s going hurt,” Nathan says. He manhandles Peter until Peter is lying across the back seat, head in Nathan’s lap.
“I’m so tired,” Peter sighs and Nathan smiles, for the first time in weeks.
“It’s okay, I got you. You can sleep now,” he says, threading fingers through Peter’s dark strands.
Isaac is sitting on the steps leading up to the porch when they arrive, sketchbook across his knees. He looks up and his eyes are clear when the car pulls to a stop. He closes the book and stands slowly, relief flooding his features when Nathan gets out with Peter held carefully against his side.
“You took longer than we thought. We were getting worried,” he says.
“Let me guess, Jessica was telling everyone that there’d be two Petrellis to rescue,” he chuckles, wincing when Peter’s arms tighten around his middle, fingernails digging into his ribs. “It’s just Isaac,” he assures, voice low and lips pressed against Peter’s scalp and he feels his younger brother relax slightly.
“It’s good to see you. We feared the worst,” Isaac says but frowns when Peter turns milky eyes in his direction. Nathan gives him an I’ll tell you later flick of the chin and Isaac steps to the side, letting Nathan and Peter pass.
“Is Claire-?”
“Inside waiting,” Isaac says and Nathan gives him a nod of thanks and carefully navigates Peter up the stairs. Once they’d passed the city limits, cold fear had gripped his heart, wondering if they would make it to the cabin in time. He’d left the sunroof open just in case he had to find a faster way to get Peter where he needed to be.
“Claire?” Peter asks and there is something hopeful in his voice. Nathan doesn’t want to be petty, especially now, but he can’t help the spike of resentment he feels.
“Here!” a voice calls from further in the cabin and then the sound of thumping precedes Claire. She slides to a halt only a few inches in front of them in socked feet, hands clenching and unclenching into fists and hovering towards them, like she wants to wrench Peter out of Nathan’s arms.
“Careful, he can’t see,” Nathan warns, lowering Peter carefully onto a threadbare couch that leans drunkenly to the left. Claire drops down beside him, one leg tucked underneath her.
“Can I?” she asks, hands still dancing around Peter, desperate to touch but respecting Nathan’s warning.
Peter takes the decision out of both of their hands, bringing his hands up and reaching towards Claire’s voice. She snags his wrists and brings his arms around her and then they are clenched together, Claire burying her face in Peter’s shoulder. “I was so scared,” she says against his skin and Nathan isn’t sure he was supposed to hear it.
“I’m fine,” Peter assures. “Nathan got me out before…” He leaves the rest unsaid.
It takes longer than they were expecting, but it still sends Nathan’s heart trip-hammering with panic when the coffee cup Peter was nursing drops from his nerveless fingers on the second day and his eyes roll back in his head.
“Claire!” Nathan calls, catching Peter as he pitches out of the kitchen chair and lowers him carefully to the floor. Peter’s body convulses and he snaps straight and rigid, fingernails scrabbling in the wooden floorboards.
There is the sound of a body hitting the floor in the living room and a few moments later Claire is in the kitchen doorway, hair in sleepy disarray and her eyes wide and panicked. She drops to her knees by Nathan and Peter.
“Nathan, let go,” she snaps, trying to pry his arms from his rigid brother. Nathan lets go with an effort, sliding backwards and watching Claire curl herself around Peter, pressing her forehead to his. Peter flails, catching Claire under the chin with an elbow and Nathan has to admire the way she doesn’t flinch, merely curling herself tighter. “Take it, take it, take all I have,” she’s saying like a prayer, over and over again.
Peter’s convulsions taper off and he goes limp. For a second there is no sound and then Peter drags in a great lungful of air and shudders. Claire is laughing, high and shaky and on the knife-edge of hysteria. Nathan pulls himself across the floor and wraps his arms around them both, holding them pressed to him. He feels one of Claire’s hands fist in his sleeve and Peter’s lips are against his throat.
They breathe together.
When he wakes, Nathan tries to untangle himself from Peter without waking him when he sees Claire’s head rise up behind Peter’s shoulder. Her eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep but there is something careful in her gaze.
“Do you hate this?” she asks. Peter stirs, moving onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes before he settles again, breathing deep.
“This?” Nathan asks, playing dumb. Claire cants her head and offers a smile.
“Believe me, when I was doodling boys names on my pencil case with glitter pen, this isn’t exactly what I envisioned either.”
“Glitter pen?” Nathan prods with a smirk and Claire rolls her eyes.
“There’s no denying that we both belong to him, no matter how much either one of us wishes it were otherwise.”
“Do you?” Nathan asks, brushing fingers over Peter’s temple. In his sleep, Peter presses his face into the touch like a kitten and Nathan can’t help but smile.
“I did,” Claire admits. She sits up and leans across Peter so she can press a kiss to the corner of Nathan’s mouth. Nathan is a little surprised. Whatever this thing is between the three of them, Peter is the center and he and Claire circle him like satellites. He always thought that Peter would eventually force them to bridge the gap when he grew tired of being tugged in two directions but it seems he was wrong. It was up to one of them to make this thing work properly.
He wonders how Claire saw it first.
She lowers back down until she is curled against Peter’s side, head on his shoulder. She reaches across Peter’s chest and tugs on Nathan’s elbow. “Is there really anywhere else you need to be right now?” she asks, a grin in her voice.
“No,” Nathan says, sliding down and dropping an arm across Peter and Claire both.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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From:
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“No offense, but you’ll ping their white-trash radar as soon as you step through the door.”
This made me laugh out loud. Nathan and his brutal honesty.
Loved the Peter/Claire and her taking care of him. Loved Nathan hugging them both.
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I also love any story that brings different combinations of enabled characters together. The interaction with Nathan and Jessica and then later with Isaac was exactly what my little fan-girl heart desired. Yet it was still true to the characters, nicely done :)
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Also this isn't too icky even considering recent developments. If you sort of squint and cock your head to the side it's almost a family coming together type thing. Almost.
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I love Peter and Nathan and their relationship, and this just hit all my buttons. Thank you so much for sharing.
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I really try not to pester writers about writing more, but this set up REALLY REALLY screams out for some kind of arc; I'm desperate to know what happened to Peter and how, what the purpose of the "classes" and the house, how they found Peter, Peter's recovery...everything!
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I think I'm going through a sequel period... heh.
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