Vote for Petrelli 2006

"Good afternoon. Most of you have no idea who I am. My name is Nathan Petrelli, and I was elected to Congress in the State of New York. Seems like a long time ago. I lost my position."

It seemed so long ago. Campaigning for Congress. Hiding the fact his brother didn't completely fall. Hiding the fact he can't fall. Or except that one time over Kirby Plaza. Been hiding for too long, and look what came of it.

"I lost my brother."

Those long months, not knowing where Peter was. Not seeing him in the bar, not at home. Just little hints. Red herrings, nothing.

" I lost my family."

He wondered if Heidi was watching. If the boys were. If they would be shocked, angry... Or maybe even proud. Wondered if Claire was watching him. If she forgave him for all those curt and dropped calls.

"I'm sad to say that I lost my way."

Lost inside himself, lost in the bottle. The arguments with friends, family. Luz and Doc pulling him out after unsucessfully trying to wake him back out of his depression. Didn't realize it had to be more gradual.

"But while I was gone, I had the chance to see the world through newly humbled eyes."

The people he's since met. Others with abilities. Powers beyond anything he could imagine both home and at Milliways.

"Witnessed amazing things."

Seeing dragons, angels, the time he spend as a falcon and other times soaring over the lake. The flights he's since taken over parts of America, not caring who sees now. Seeing others standing up for themselves.

"I've seen ordinary people among us, trying their best each day to be heroes."

Claire. Peter. Matt. Hiro. Luz. Bill. Doc.

"These ordinary people -- like you, like me -- are capable of extraordinary things."

So much he's seen since the night of the accident. Since the day Peter took a chance. Since the day his footsteps first entered a strange interdimensional bar at the end of the universe.

"You have no idea ... how extraordinary."

What the people there can do. What we can do. We can change the world.

"But there are other people, organizations, who don't want you to know the truth."

The damn Company. The Founders, people like Ma and Dad. Bob. Linderman. Adam. Even Kaito. Too many secrets. Too many damn secrets and secrets have nearly destroyed the world twice. Can't happen again.

"I, myself, kept secrets."

The day after in the hospital and Peter being so insistent that he flew. And how did he respond? That his brother jumped. That he tried to kill himself. When they both knew the real answer was something far more important and life changing. All that time denying his very self. His nature. That he could fly.

"But last year ... something incredible happened to me..."

Baptized by fire, and carried by his brother. The distant memories of an inbetween time.

" ... and it changed my life. At first, I was afraid. But I'm -- I'm not afraid anymore. I'm here to tell you the truth. I have the ability --"

He never got a chance to finish his statement as the sound of gunshots and then screams overtook the sheriff's office.

(Dialogue from Powerless transcript)

After his flight back to New York, he stopped by the hospital to keep an eye on his mother. And was surprised to find the police in her room. What the hell is this? She already talked to them!

He hurried over to where Detective Parkman was, and demanded in a quiet but intense voice, "What do you think you're doing questioning a suspect in a hospital? Any confession is coerced. She's sick."

After his mother's attack in the police station, and she had been released, Nathan saw about getting her to a hospital so her cuts could be looked at. Still wondering what the hell could have attacked her. There was nothing in the room with her, so what did that leave? Somebody invisible? The only one who could maybe would be Peter, and he couldn't see him attacking Ma like that. He loved her, and wouldn't have known about her betrayal anyway.

And never would because he's dead.

Bullshit, he had to be out there somewhere. But in the meantime, while he and Heidi was still on the outs, he had to tell them. The boys should know about their grandmother, and at least, he could see Simon and Monty again. So he headed outside, not far from Central Park. Good, the trees can hide his departure.

Moments later, there was a fast moving streak over Manhattan, and heading southward. To Washington, where two boys were. Should be around recess soon.

Nathan was in his room. Not that it mattered much. He wasn't sure if he really slept here. Felt like he did. He had a picture of his brother, and was staring down at it. He could still feel the heat radiating off of his brother as he exploded in the NY night sky. Fire.
It was always comes back to that. Fire that could have destroyed a city. Fire that could have killed his daughter. Fire that he saved that young woman from. The first time he tried doing something good with his power.

...Fire, like that place Mary talked about. The fire that consumed a mill, and other buildings built on the ashes. Hospitals. The Kingdom.

( You saved the cheerleader so we could save the world. )

He was briefly surprised when one of the guards said he was meeting Linderman downstairs, and not in his office. Well, he knows, and wants to put him off guard by changing the venue obviously. He knew how the man operated, and how well he could manipulate people and situations for what he wanted.

Instead, they headed into the kitchens where he could see the back of him, hunched over, and chopping something on a wooden block while his staff bustled around with orders for the customers of the casinos.

He walked over toward him, "Mr. Linderman." He watched the older man place the knife down, and turn around to face him. An apron tied over his suit.

"Do you enjoy vegetables, Mr. Petrelli?" Typical seemingly odd question from him. Around them, the guards started to urge the cooks to leave the two men to their discussion.

"I've been known to eat zucchini when the mood strikes, but not as a rule," He added, "You know, you can probably hire someone to do that for you."

"Oh yeah?" Even his voice hid an inward smirk, a seemingly knowing snideness, "I like to cook. It's my meditation. One aims for perfection in one's life, but doesn't find it very often. For me this is as close as it gets." He chuckled, feigning friendliness clearly as he held up the dough covered dish.

"Voila, a pot pie. Wholesome, warm, healthy. That is, of course, if you can live without the cream sauce. Personally, I can't. I mean what's the point?"
He turned around to place the pan in the oven. They were all alone now. A good opportunity to strike, and end this.

Linderman continued to prattle on, "You know, people can sleep, or they can gamble. Or they can even make love when they're miserable." He closed the oven door, and turned to face Nathan again. "But I think most people eat when they're happy. I like to see people happy. Are you happy, Nathan?"

You know damn well I'm not. But Nathan just replied, "Not especially. I guess I have a few issues that plague me." Like the fact the man in front of him continued to do what he pleased, while escaping jail time, or death.

"Oh dear," came a veiled sneer in reply, "I'm sorry to hear that. You see, I think there comes a time in a man's life where he decides if he wants a life of happiness, or a life of meaning."

"I'd like to have both," Nathan said, and received a chuckle and a head shake for his response.

Linderman replied, "Can't be done. Two very different paths. I mean, to be truly happy, a man must live in the absolute present, with no thoughts to where he comes from, or where he's going. But a life of meaning, a man is forced to wallow in the past, and obsess about the future. My guess is that you've done quite a bit of obsessing about yours these days."

Damn right. Stop the explosion, and been wanting to stop you for months now. Now's my chance. Nathan took the gun out of his pocket.

The white haired man seemed untroubled, and he just remarked, "Hmm. Now you can't have any of my pot pie. I won't hold it against you. Lots of men have tried to kill me."

Nathan calmly cocked the gun, and aimed it for him, "Then I'll be the last."

Still unruffled. "I suppose you can pull that trigger, Nathan. You'd be taking both of our lives. You'll be dead in moments. Or I could offer you something."

But Nathan was tired of his deals, his arrangements, "I'm not interested in anything you have to offer me."

"I think you are. I think there are things you need to hear. Things that I know about."

"Too late for that."

Linderman seemed to smirk again, "That you can fly, for instance?" Nathan froze in position as the man continued, "Or about your brother Peter? Hmm? And his small problem?" Ohshitohshitohshit...you stay the hell away from him. "Your daughter, even?" Even her? Dammit, no. "And all those others out there like you."

Linderman started to walk toward him, still calm and confident. Knowing that he was getting to him. Had to know, because Nathan's determination wavered as he stepped back. The gun was still aimed, but his will was draining.

Then the devil in human form sweetened the pot further by saying, "I can offer you more than just information, Nathan. You're gonna win your election. I'll see to that. And two years from now, in a series of fluke circumstances, you'll find yourself in the White House. A heartbeat away from the Presidency. A life of meaning, Nathan. Think about it. The choice is yours." He then turned around again to focus on chopping vegetables again.

Damn him. Damn him to hell for putting him into a corner. The temptation was too great, and furthermore, Linderman knew too much for him to do anything about it now. He could jeopardize all of them.

Nathan lowered the gun to his side.

No choice at all really, Nathan decided as he finally

Nathan's flight was uneventful, which meant he should have expected his time in Vegas to be anything but.

It was.

As soon as the plane landed, it was only a half hour later that the agents contacted him. Gave him an general overview of how the plan was. He was wired up, and he hurried redressed, making sure everything was hidden, and working. It was an one way signal, but they assured him that in case of any problems, they would try to get him out of there.

It was only shortly after that when he ran into Hiro sitting outside the casino, looking like somebody kicked his puppy in the head.
Some muffled yells, begrudging smiles, and enthusiastic cheers later, the two settled into quiet conversation. He was still trying to get the sword from Linderman, and had sent Ando home. Nathan could understand why he was being cautious and protective of his friend. Hiro then asked about help in getting past the security guard.

Nathan admitted, "You know when I first met you, I thought you were nuts."

The Japanese man didn't seem surprised as he replied, "That's ok. I thought you were mean." Well, so did any number of people who've met Nathan, so he knew that was just par for the course.

Hiro then said something rather profound, and Nathan was surprised that he picked up on it in the short time they've run into each other.

"But now I know that you pretend that you do not care about anyone. But you care too much."

A sap as Ma recently called him. He brushed off that thought, and agreed to help by talking to the guard. Connections really do get you everywhere. Especially when the mob boss thinks you're going to be his best lapdog.

A little while after that, Nathan took the escalator upstairs, and seem to speak to himself for a moment. Quietly passing word back to the agents, and praying to God that this plan will work.

"The big guy says Linderman's gonna be, uh expecting me in about an hour. I'm not in the mood for craps so I'm gonna go straight to my room." And hopefully by the time he's to meet with him, he'll be calm enough for it to work.

Nathan certainly didn't expect to be seeing the two FBI agents making a visit to his office. He made some general comments, and them as well so as to not let on what was really going on.

It was only after they made sure the room was secure that the front could be lowered.

"You agreed there would be no face to face," Nathan sternly told them.

"And you agreed to deliver Linderman."

Dammit, he was working on that, and he then reminded them, "I'm the one who brought you in on this, remember? I'd appreciate a little discretion as opposed to a surprise office visit."

"No one outside this office knows you're working with us. Linderman's requested a meeting with you at his casino in Vegas, any ideas why?"

He put his hands on his hips, and replied, "I'm still four points behind. He's gonna tell me how he's going to put me ahead, and what's expected of me after I win."

"Yeah, we're thinking the same thing, and we want you to record it."

He frowned at that. Risky proposition, "You want me to wear a wire?" This was his neck on the line if found out.

"You're the only one on our side who can get enough incriminating evidence to put him behind bars. You need this as much as we do, Mr. Petrelli. Otherwise he walks. We'll contact you when you land in Vegas." He watched the two agents leave, and the door shut behind him.

He then went to turn around, and was briefly surprised to see Peter standing there.

The phone call just stated come home. Your brother's here. Come here quickly, and _safely_. Nothing more than that.

He had called back when his plane landed, but there were no more details. So now he was here.

Home.

The car pulled up outside, and Nathan got out. An attendant asked if he needed help with his bags, but he just waved them away. He needed to get inside, he needed to see Peter.

He opened the door, and entered, carrying his suitcases into the foyer. He dropped them down, and called out, "Ma?"

They had thought the cure was the solution. But it only lasted a few days. He didn't understand why, and it was heartbreaking to Heidi. So, it was forgotten, and they moved on.

Easy when there was so much else to worry about. His brother's coma, and then disappearance from the hospital. Meredith's phone call, and the troubled visit to Texas.

And the election looming over it all.

That last one, he found himself setting aside more often. He was still down in the polls, there was no way he was going to win at this rate.

Nathan sat in his office, glancing at the latest poll data. Also checking over the issues that voters were concerned with.

Then his phone rang, and as soon as he lifted up the receiver to say hello, and heard that voice that seemed like steel wrapped in velvet, he knew. Should almost be expected.

I will bring you down, I swear. He thought as he spoke with him. Yes, he knew he was down in the polls. And then the request that coming from him was practically an order. He finished the conversation, and hung up.

He had to go back to Vegas.

To deal with the devil again.

As he thought. Expected.

Some moments later, Nathan had his hands on her shoulders, studying her with concern.

"How do you feel?"

Heidi glanced down at herself, and tried to move her legs. It took some effort, but they did start to move slowly.

"Nathan," She smiled slowly with shock, "Look! I can feel them. I can move them! It worked!"

The smile he gave her was not one of his usual fake smiles for the press, and possible supporters and contributors. More how Nathan really looked, and he drew over to embrace her and kiss her.

"I'm so sorry, Heidi," he softly replied.

"Nathan... I know it wasn't your fault. You got thrown out of the car instead of me before the crash, it happened. Nothing you could have done." She felt him draw away, and his expression was more serious. He went to stand up, and started to pace a little. She had known that about him ever since they first met, how he always liked to be moving.

"Not like this. I told you there was something else I have to tell you. Mom doesn't even know this. Only my brother does."

"Know what, Nathan?" She started to get up herself, but since she hadn't been able to use her legs, they were weak. Not atrophied, but unstable on her weight. As soon he noticed, in one motion, he grabbed her around the waist.

"Do you trust me?" He asked her quietly with sincerity.

Heidi slowly nodded, "Yes, I do. Why?"

He then wrapped his arms more securely around her waist, and whispered in her ear. "Grab onto me, and hang on."

She stared at him, wondering what was going on, but then did so, "What's going on, Nathan?" She felt the weight shift off her legs. Was he picking her up then?

"Just hang on, I got you," he smiled back, and there was a hint of boyish mischief in his eyes. Usually it was hidden, or came out in odd ways. "And be careful if you look down."

Look down, what? Heidi went to look, and then gasped. They were a foot, maybe a foot and half in the air above the floor. The bedroom had an higher than average ceiling, but even then she could see how much closer they were to it. She clung on to him tightly.

"We're in the air? What, how are you doing this?"

"I just can." As she watched they moved to the side, further from the bed, turning in the air. Once she realized she was safe, she calmed some, and started smiling.

"I don't believe this. It's wonderful." She glanced back at him, and noticed his troubled expression. "Nathan?"

They started descend with him steering them back to bed so she could gently sit down, and his feet came back down on the floor firmly.

"Heidi, I..." But then the phone rang.

Nathan immediately walked over to grab it.

"Hello? ...Peter! Where are you? Texas?" Dammit, Simone, you showed him the painting somehow didn't you? He ran his hand through his hair worriedly, "Arrested!? For murder!? Oh that's just great...Even if you didn't do it, how do you think the papers are going to react to this? ...All right, all right, I'll take care of it. Look, just don't say anything. Don't answer any questions or do anything until the lawyers get there, got it? Ok, yeah. I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone. Dammit, Peter! Why won't you stop with this crap?

He turned back to Heidi, and before he could say anything, she just calmly answered, "Go Nathan. We'll talk later." She knew he was going to stress about his brother, and wanting to protect him.

"About this...? And your uh, cure? You know discr..." He started to say, but she cut him off.
"I'm a politician's wife. You think I don't understand discretion? We'll talk when you get back." He smiled back at her gratefully, and came over to kiss her.

"I love you. I'll be back soon." He then left the room, and went to do what he seemed to be doing a lot these days. Damage control.

Neither of him nor his wife noticed the two smaller figures sneaking away back to their own bedrooms, the boys being extra-quiet in their slippered feet.

Nathan came back out of the rest room, clearly rattled some. At least in his eyes, and it took him a moment to force a confident smile on his face. He didn't understand why he saw that. Stress was getting to him. Only explanation. Peter claimed there was a bond, and that he had dreams and visions, but that was just talk, right? So why did he briefly felt this overwhelming sense of emptiness, of loss?

Heidi came over to him, rolling her wheelchair with a concerned expression on her face. He gave her another reassuring smile.

After this... he had to tell her. He had wanted to wait for them to get away from the fundraiser. He didn't know if it would work, but he already made the deal. Needed to see if the price was worth it.

There was some quiet conversations on the drive home to their estate in Hyde Park. The boys had already gone to bed.

When it was quiet again, Nathan went over to where he had hid the vial in a container in a secret safe. He briefly glanced down at the blue contents thoughtfully, before palming it. Now to convince her to take it.

He walked into the bedroom where she had propped herself into bed. Trying to stay as active and moving as much she could. All those months of the physical therapy, where he used the beginning of the campaign to avoid her from guilt.

Nathan sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Heidi, there's some things I need to tell you. Where I've been at times, and something I've recently found out. And I want to make up to you. For the accident." He then held up the vial with the blue liquid as his wife stared at him and it with surprise.

The hotel ballroom looked lovely. Chandeliers everywhere, red, white, and blue bunting and decorations. It was a good sized crowd. Some of the elite of New York's society was here. So many public officials, CEOs of major companies and corporations, and more.

Nathan chatted pleasantly with some of the people. At nine-thirty, he was to give a speech. But that was an half-hour away.

"Of course, ma'am. I have every intention make sure the energy demands for our district are being met. It's crucial," he replied to one supporter. Times like this.

He then looked over as his wife waved to him.

"Excuse me a moment."

He then headed over to her. Looking gorgeous as always, dress, and hair perfect.
It was only the wheelchair that took away from the image. And the sight continued to stick him in the gut. Because he caused that.

Heidi then said to him, "I thought we agreed that I would be accompanying you to these functions."

He smiled at her, "Of course, you are." He leaned down to give her a brief kiss.

She wasn't buying the charm entirely, "Then why are you leaving me in the corner? We both know you need this."

He sighed, and nodded, "You're right, you're..." He trailed off. His breathing seemed much faster, and his heart rate was up. Why?

His wife touched his arm in alarm, "Nathan? Are you all right?"

Nathan waved her hand away, but still seemed confused. Felt like he was running a marathon all of the sudden. That was strange.

"One moment," he said, giving her another reassuring smile, and started to the rest room. Just needed to splash some water on his face. He was tense about the election. That's all.

The water was cool on his hands and face. He lifted his head up to look at himself in the mirror.

But for a brief moment, he thought he saw Peter there. Face bloodied, eyes empty.

"Nathan..." He thought he heard his brother say, but when he blinked. It was just his own reflection staring back.

What the hell? Peter?

The time was 9:12pm. 8:12 in Odessa, Texas at that moment.

Simone gave him a call when the painting arrived, and Nathan agreed to meet. Continuing to keep it quiet. He wanted to see why Peter seemed so desperate to see the painting. Why he was so obsessed with saving some damn cheerleader. It took a lot of money to convince Linderman, and the man was probably amused that Nathan was paying him after asking for 4 million from him.

No matter. He had to get to the bottom of this.

He knocked on the door to the loft.

Nathan opened the door, and simply nodded as Hiro commented about being from Tokyo.
"Never been there," He replied, and walked alongside the other man to where a limo was waiting. Ian hurried over, and some of the security went to stop Hiro, but Nathan waved them off.

"It's ok, guys. He's with me. Just needs a ride back. It's fine," He replied, and opened the door.

"Go right ahead." He said to the strange nerdy Japanese man.

The trip was supposed to mostly uneventful. Except for his meeting with Linderman to get money for his campaign.

It was anything but. He should have suspected something was up when somebody came up claiming to be Suresh. Didn't look exactly like the picture, but not like he really looked at it. What was worse was what he was yelling, and warning him. He had security on that guy in a heartbeat, and Ian reassured him that the problem would be dealt with. Good man, Ian. Hiring him as his campaign manager was a wise move.

The flight over to Vegas was quiet, and Nathan watched the view below. Part of him couldn't help picturing what it would be like. Flying overheard.

Without being in an airplane. But he gently pushed the thought aside. Peter's the daydreamer. Not him.

Vegas itself was something else. After landing, Linderman seemed to be enjoying foisting his help on Nathan's staff. Keep him from meeting. But he wasn't going to give up on speaking with him about the campaign funding.

But then he met Niki. Amazing, beautiful, aggressive Niki. He felt like he could talk to her about everything, and he had the feeling she felt the same. She left, and he could understand why.

But then she came back, stronger than before. And it was just the beginning of the most incredible night of his life. A night of bliss, and no guilt.

Election was only weeks away, and Nathan was running around, frantically getting all his ducks in order. One small problem. Ok, one big problem.
Peter. Who was still talking about this damn flying business, and how he was still trying. His elder brother was glad it wasn't working. One less thing to explain to the press. Because no way will they believe what really happened. He still didn't want to believe it.

But it happened. Again, and again. No choice but to admit it was real, and try to move on from it. He had to say something. Maybe the press was willing to accept the current story about his brother's fall. But for how long? He couldn't afford having some Woodward wannabe poking around, and asking questions. That genetics book that Peter was gushing about didn't help either. Either it was BS, or it would only mean more questions being asked. Needed to tell them something.

Nathan knew well the old trick of making a lie more believable by combining some truth to it. As long as it's plausible, people will buy it. Personal admission, and maybe people will be more sympathetic.

Even though his brother will hate him for it.

He knew the punch was coming, and why he didn't block it later that night. He knew why Peter was angry.

But it was the only way.

Been two days since he spoke to Peter. Two days since that moment in the alley. He had called 911 after his brother had fell, and he helped get him to the hospital. Then the phone call to Mom, having to explain what happened, carefully worded.

He thought he could get Peter to believe it. That the jump had been a suicide attempt. That the whole flying business was a bunch of nonsense. It didn't work, not even after Mom told him the truth about Dad.

Nathan had gone to check up on him later, only to find him missing. He scoured any likely place, only to find Peter sitting on another building's ledge. He thought his brother was going to try something crazy again, and he was partially right.

Only this time, Peter wanted to know what really happened. Dammit, this campaign was wrecking him, giving him a cold, and now his brother wanted him to tell him a story? Peter didn't give him much choice in the matter though.

"All right, you want to hear the truth?" Upon getting a nod, Nathan added, "We both flew...Pete. I caught you, and I lost control. You were too heavy, and we both started falling. Just before we hit the ground, you flew. You."

And this time it was his brother who was the skeptic, calling him a liar. He had lied before, but much as he didn't want to admit this... It was true.

...Especially after his brother started walking towards him, not even realizing that he left the ledge behind him a foot back. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. His brother's joyful, smiling face was burned into his memory as Peter hugged him. But all Nathan could wonder was... what now? What if somebody finds out about this? About us? Forget the campaign, hell, what will they do to us?
--------------

After they came back inside, he had gone downstairs and out, figuring to catch a cab. Even though the conversation with Peter was still going around in his head. He didn't care how it happened, he wished it never did. Was having a hard enough time getting elected without getting this added on his plate. Now his brother was stuck on this hero obsession of his. Flying's never helped anybody. Every time he flew, somebody got hurt. Yeah, some gift.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he almost stepped out in front of the fire truck as it was flying around the corner, sirens blaring. He turned, and noticed the bright light of flames coming from a nearby apartment building. These older housing complexes seemed to be giant rattraps and tinderboxes really. Amazing that people lived there. He walked over for a closer look, watching the NY Fire Department guys race around, pulling people out. Was that everybody?

But even as he wondered, a woman was screaming at them, and pointing upward, "PLEASE! My daughter's on the fourth floor!" His eyes flickered upward. Not enough time. Not the way that fire was going. She'd be dead from smoke inhalation before then. Nothing to be done...except...

"Somebody help!" From that same floor. That's crazy. He can't just go charging in like this. This was more Peter's thing, not his. And yet, he ran toward the back. And once again, he felt his feet lift off the ground.

Felt easier this time, in control. Almost something right about it. Being in the air like this.
Dreaming? No, he was definitely awake, the heat and smoke as he flew in through the window proved it. Didn't take long to find the young woman, coughing.

"Don't worry, ma'am. I got you," he reassured, putting his coat over her to shield her from the fire and smoke. Just like Bosnia, just act, don't think. Get your people out of danger. He lifted her up as she covered her face, still hacking and coughing. Then, out into the fresh air, and back down on the ground. Too easy. Nobody hurt this time. Eat your heart out, Peter. Part of his mind chuckled internally.

Their feet touched the ground, and he figured to get out of there before anybody came aroun asking questions.

"You all right?" He asked as he glanced back, already eager to get moving again.

"Yes, thank you," she gasped out, her eyes still shut for the moment. Good, all the better. Time to go.

He faintly heard another woman call out Sheila, but he was already taking to the air to get over the high fence. Then hurrying away. He'll have to replace the coat, but he can afford it. He belatedly remembered his campaign button was still on that one. Well, hopefully they don't make too many connections, or well, maybe it'll mean a vote or two in a few weeks.

Yet despite the cold, and still vaguely smelling of smoke, he felt surprisingly good. Maybe...

Nah, that's for dreamers like Pete to wonder. He had to live in the real world, and focus on the election.

Nathan slept uneasily in his bed. His mind taking him back to that night six months ago. When everything went to hell. Started out well enough at Pete's place and the party. Mostly, even with the situation with Linderman

But then later, as he drove himself and Heidi back on the highway to their home, that's when it changed. It was a nice April night, and the weather was balmy. Good night to have the top down on the convertible.
Granted the weather that night was nicer than their conversation.

"My brother, Peter the hospice nurse. Can you believe it?"

"Oh, it's a perfect fit. He's selfless and empathic."

"He's self-centered and righteous."

"He's a hell of lot nicer than you."

Well, she had a point then, but Peter was never really in the forefront. It wasn't his place. It was Dad's, and it was his place.

"My dad did what he had to do for the family, and that's not something Peter will ever understand."

"And you do?"

"It's my responsibility. It's my inherited...birthright." He was Dad's favorite. The one groomed for power and responsibility. It was just how it was.

Then the glare of bright headlights, a car racing up, and their front end shoving his car. Had to be one of Linderman's men, because of the case. He was now a liability. He wanted me dead. Had to be.
And once again, he was suddenly in the air, reaching for his wife as she screamed. That last bump sent him in the air right? Only way to explain it. And he could only watch the car crash into the barrier with her inside. While he was helpless, out of control. Hovering...

And falling to the ground.

(ooc: dialogue from canon ep, "Six Months Ago")