Decisions Are Kryptonite
In some ways, Nathan was not quite sure as to why he did what he did that brisk November night in Kirby Plaza. For a while, he was not even sure if he would end up knowing anything at all. Laying in a hospital bed for weeks on end does leave one plenty of time to think though. During those weeks, no months, Nathan Petrelli thought arduously over those few moments and what could have possibly caused him to have acted so... un-senator-ly. He also thought about his alarmingly limited mental vocabulary, but that was another matter entirely that only diminished as time went on. While incapacitated, the man barely shifted his focus from the thoughts swirling around in that brain of his, which at some points he could swear felt as if it had been through a microwave oven a few dozen times. At least Nathan knew he acted like that was the truth.
Well, the fact that lay before anything else was that the man could fly. Nathan was sure that there was no one he could have really blamed for that, since it just, well, happened. It would have been nice to have received a little warning though from his parents if they had known such a thing would have had the possibility to happen. A heads-up would have made the ability’s manifestation a tad easier to grasp for a man of his realistic thoughts, ideas and aspirations. He had never found the comic book heroes too interesting when he was a child, which was, as he drove himself to believe during his “Thinking Time”, probably one of the reasons he even possessed the ability he did. If only his sons could know that their dad was just like Superman, sans x-ray vision and super strength of course, then maybe he would have been a bit more accepting of the power.
Being a candidate for the Senate, Nathan never let the secret of his ability slip during (or after) the campaign, choosing to make this secret, well, a secret. He remembered watching the X-Men movies a little while back with his two young sons, watching the reactions of the powerless humans when confronted with even the most harmless of “mutants” crossing their paths. That decision of the extras’ characters to act the way they did towards the main characters, was what made the man flinch more than anything. Never mind his sons’ eyes gleaming in the naïveté that was their youth, for when they grew a little older, he knew they were both sure to react the same as the extras in the movies. The decision to fear what was unexplainable, Nathan thought, was almost not a decision at all. It was sheer instinct. If that was the case, then why were there other people who took their freakish powers by the hand and skipped off to “save the cheerleader; save the world”? He could not understand how anyone could do that; almost nonchalantly to boot! Thinking about it would make his head spin so much that even all the morphine the nurses could legally inject him with could not make the headache go away. The topic quickly became so troublesome that he never thought about it for more than ten minutes at a time. All he could imagine was mass chaos as visions of him flying before news cameras flicked over every television, computer screen and properly-equipped cellular phone.
Somehow, Nathan found it was easier to blame Peter over what had happened in Kirby Plaza rather than blame himself. Even when they were younger, Peter would take anything Nathan threw at him, simply because Peter was the younger brother. He had always revered him, considering there was over a decade separating the two, and was never willing to disappoint him. If Peter never wanted to let him down, then why did he have to get himself in so much trouble to begin with? To Nathan, it seemed like Peter had the natural ability to cause trouble and stir things up, even if it was completely unintentional and meant the younger had to take the blame for it. The fact that Peter ended up being a super-powered human sponge made things no better. Whether it was leading campaigns aimed at stealing away snacks at midnight when they were both home from their respective schooling or as an adult running around with only God-knew-who and getting into all sorts of trouble, including almost nuke-blasting New York City on total accident. Peter could have decided to stay home when he discovered his powers, or even run away, but he did not. Nathan knew that he himself did the closest thing to running by covering it up. Even when Nathan had told him to leave the city, Peter still stayed behind, willing to risk it all. Peter’s reckless decisions almost cost millions of people their lives that night. It was easy to blame Peter; he was the dangerous one.
The more and more Nathan thought about Peter being dangerous though, the glaring contradictions became apparent as time went by. His younger brother was a kindly hospice nurse before all this happened, not a deranged psychopath. That man they killed in Kirby Plaza... Sylar was it? He was the one who wanted to blast the city into a nuclear wasteland. He was dangerous simply for bloodlust and a desire for power. The man’s decision to “fix” others’ abilities led him to murder in sick fashion, somehow claiming their abilities as his own. Nathan could choose to stick him with the responsibility of everyone’s actions, but even sticking it to the villain felt strange.
Eventually, Nathan also learned of the man whose powers Peter “absorbed”, one Ted Sprague. A walking, talking nuke, ready to level an entire city... even having been out of the service for years, Nathan knew that man was just asking for trouble. Of course, he knew this Sprague character never chose the power he gained, just as much as Nathan chose to fly, but it was easy to blame Sprague, like it was easy to blame Sylar or Peter. Apparently, Sprague knew that New York City was going to explode, so he chose to turn himself into the FBI as a terrorist in order to prevent it, even though the only thing he did wrong was manifest an ability. Sprague thought he was doing the right thing, but Sylar killed him anyways, making the dangerous power his own. Nathan could remember the alarm clearly when everyone felt certain that the bomb was present in the form of Sprague, then Sylar. He had no idea neither of the men were the one that had a fuse cut too short for comfort.
It was Peter. Panicking, overloaded Peter who tried his damndest to not be the bomb and instead prevent it from wreaking havoc. It was Peter’s decision to fight against Sylar that lead to his abilities overflowing, trying to pour out of him all at once. Mainly it was the radiation, but the others were there too. When Nathan had flown to the plaza, he could sense Peter’s struggle with all his passively absorbed abilities: invisibility, telepathy, telekinesis, molecular regeneration... even the flight he gained simply from being by his side as brothers. The radiation was going out of control, consuming everything else. That was why Nathan took Peter in his arms and flew his brother into the sky to explode “safely” high in the atmosphere. It was all that Peter could do to contain his powers as long as he did; he could not have flown, even though he wanted to; he would have exploded after hovering two inches.
There was no choice, was there? How could Nathan have left his brother to level half the city like that? Laying in the hospital bed, Nathan knew that it was a simple decision, at least at the time. Their mother always favored Peter, the one she had imagined would be the lone savior of the world. It was because he was younger, naturally kinder, more in-tune with emotions. Nathan knew he had the tendency to be like their father, cold and ruthless, yet he knew he had to be the older brother, even until the very end. Older siblings protect the younger ones, no matter what happens. Nathan could have flown away without Peter. He could have abandoned the city, only to come back after Peter’s explosion and cover it up, reworking it for a political gain. It would have been like another Ground Zero, not unlike the plane crashes six years prior. He could have been the heroic leader this time, winning over the people with charm, wit and firm leadership.
He could have left, but what would that have done to Peter?
Nathan knew he was lucky to have gotten to Peter before he had exploded. Peter most likely would have lived though the blast. The regenerative teenager, Claire, she probably would have sprung back as well. They both would have healed physically at least. Nathan knew his brother was too empathetic to not be mentally scarred for life. It was bad enough Peter watched people die for a living, but to personally cause that much destruction and chaos at once would be literally devastating. Nathan often imagined Peter had he exploded on the ground, basically evaporating almost everything in the immediate area. It was a sight not worth dreaming for the protective elder brother.
Little did Nathan know that Peter, immediately having discharged the radiation, bounced back into full control. He saved Nathan from being dropped into the harbor, having fallen unconscious from the intense blast. Peter almost immediately healed, his sponge-like ability aiding him along, yet Nathan was still ravaged with burns and scars. Nathan could not remember being admitted to the hospital, let alone Peter taking him there. All he knew is that when he woke up, his little brother was not there, instead missing from existence... as if he had never even recovered from the explosion.
Horrified, the older brother wondered over what happened to the younger. Was the decision to haul him off the ground in order to save him simply in vain? Was the desire to play hero only his way of sticking it to their mother, or was it genuinely heroic? Had it been worth being the unsung savior of half of New York City if he could not have the brother he cared so deeply about by his side? Nathan knew he rarely seemed like it, but he had never wanted anything to hurt his brother, ever since the day the kid was born. Now he was useless, unable to do anything for himself, let alone Peter. The heartache of his choices outweighed any physical pain he suffered through.
They had been the tough ones, the kind of decisions where there were no pleasant outcomes. It almost made him laugh, for they were similar to the decisions he had been elected to make. This time though, had he weighed his options right? Had half of New York City–0.07 percent of the world’s population–been worth more to him than his own brother? The politician, lawyer and businessman in him all approved, but Nathan still grieved. He was stuck, facing years of recovery and therapy before he could even think about sitting upright again. He knew he would have to do it without Peter, without the sense of hope siblings tend to give one another. He was alone. Neither his wife nor their mother could fill the void Peter left behind. It was unexplainable and filled with what-ifs. Would things have been different? Could everything have turned out well in the end? Nathan went to sleep one night dreaming of these other possible scenarios, the ones he chose to not act upon. He could be helping run the country instead of helping to fill a bedpan.
When he woke up, Nathan was more than simply surprised at the phenomena that happened overnight. It was as if the mobster with a healing touch was alive again. He sat up and looked at his hands. They were unscarred from the radiation, perfect replicas of how they had been before. His face... it had been one of the worst parts once exposed to radiation. Now it was back to normal, his entire body was like nothing had ever happened near four months beforehand. A single thought raced in his mind as Nathan rummaged around for some clothes.
Peter.
It was hope, that sibling-induced hope he never thought he would find again. Though he was not exactly sure how Peter did it, but he decided that it was proof enough that Peter still existed out there. Nathan knew he was going to have to await Peter’s homecoming with patience. He found some clothes and left the hospital that day. Now it was his turn to choose to put his trust in his brother, like Peter trusted him when he was ready to explode. With any luck, this choice will have been an easy no-brainer, one of the simplest decisions he’s made in a long time.
