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Tweak says, "donald trump has tiny hands"

Noah Bennet (thecompanyman) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2009-07-01 03:28:00

Entry tags:

!closed, #complete, noah bennet, peter petrelli

WHO: Noah Bennet, Nathan Petrelli, Peter Petrelli, and Adam Monroe. And Death.
WHAT: Nathan's drunken jackassery has consequences.
WHEN: After this.
WHERE: In and outside the bar where Nathan is drinking.
RATING: R for violence. And brief, mod-approved character death. It's Heroes, people. This is absolutely nothing new. Everyone in that group right there has died once...or twice...or seventy-thousand times.
STATUS: Complete.

Noah could handle a lot of things, but seeing Angela Petrelli break down and start sobbing because her son was being a drunken bastard wasn't one of them. He understood that Nathan was having issues with his death, but blaming his mother and accusing her of orchestrating it wasn't something he would stand for. He'd gone out, ending up at the bar where Nathan was currently doing his best to pickle his liver with tequila, walking up behind the senator with a look that told everyone in the place not to mess with him. Noah was a person who relied on people underestimating him, and tried his best to make sure they did. He wasn't trying now.

Grabbing Nathan by the back of the shirt, he all but dragged the man out of the bar, shoving him hard against the outside wall. "Listen to me, you little shit," he growled, "Angela has done more for you than you'll ever know. And you have no right talking to her like that. You didn't see her after you died. It destroyed her. So next time you decide to go on a drunken rampage, leave her the hell out of it." And he pulled back his fist and punched him hard in the jaw for good measure.

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chosemanypaths
2009-07-01 08:42 am UTC (link)

Of course, the problem was, Peter got there a little too quickly. Well, it wasn't that he got there too quickly, it was more he tried to help Nathan up too fast. The sudden movements, coupled with the jarring of his crash-landing, made Nathan lose what control he had, at least physically. The alcohol was really catching up with him now, and before he could stop it, the former senator doubled over, losing quite a bit of the contents of his stomach . . . much of which ended up on Peter's shoes. Peter's poor, poor shoes. If he'd been in his right mind right then, Nathan would have been mortified.

As it was, all he could do was wince by the time he was done, and mutter a little "'msorry . . ."

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thegoodbrother
2009-07-01 08:51 am UTC (link)

Really? Really? Had Nathan honestly just thrown up on him? Jesus Christ! "I really hate you sometimes," Peter grumbled as he finally got his brother upright with all the righteous indignation of a long-suffering younger brother. "Are you sorry for killing Bennet or for throwing up on me. Because if it's the second one, you really need to get your priorities in order. You just killed someone, Nate! You just killed Noah! What the hell were you thinking? Claire is going to murder you...you know that right? And let's not even get started on mom! And Claude! And...that crazy blond Noah hangs around with! The swimmer girl."

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chosemanypaths
2009-07-01 08:56 am UTC (link)

And here is where it becomes obvious that, even drunk, Nathan doesn't listen to a word Peter says. Pretty much none of his indignant diatribe made it into Nathan's brain as he leaned a little on his little brother, requiring the help to keep his balance as he tried to stand up straight, despite the fact that his knees felt like they were about the consistency of jello. He mumbled a comment after a moment, his words ridiculously slurred. "I promise, getcha new ones . . ." Because clearly, the throwing up on Peter's shoes was the biggest, worst offense he had just committed.

It took a little longer for the comment about killing Bennet registered, and Nathan took a moment to look at Peter, expression a little confused. ". . . Did I?" Of course, what came next was probably not the reaction Peter was looking for. The only thing Nathan did upon this realization . . . was launch into a drunken gigglefit, against Peter's neck.

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thegoodbrother
2009-07-01 09:07 am UTC (link)

Well, clearly Nathan had reached the 'absolutely useless douchebag' portion of the evening. Fantastic. And when had he started sounding like Claude in his head? Was this what had happened to the older man? Too many years dealing with ridiculous bullshit? It seemed like a valid theory. "My shoes really aren't the issue here, Nate," he pointed out. Why was Nathan focusing on the fact that he'd thrown up on his shoes and not the fact that he had just killed a man? He did know that was a crime, right? And that the man he just killed was his daughter's adoptive father? He knew Nathan was prone to bouts of idiocy, but this was just beyond anything his brother had ever done.

And then Nathan started giggling. Giggling, for fuck sake. Just how much had he drank? "Yes, you did," he said with a glare, fishing a hypo out of his jacket and filling it with an appropriate amount of sedative, jabbing Nathan with it. He was pretty sure he'd have an easier time not throttling his brother if said brother was unconscious.

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chosemanypaths
2009-07-01 09:10 am UTC (link)

Okay, so the shoes weren't ACTUALLY the issue, but that didn't mean he couldn't be concerned! They had been nice shoes, from what he could tell! Of course, he wasn't exactly able to tell much at all, thanks to the fact that they were currently covered with the contents of his stomach. Oops. He was wobbling against Peter, still giggling, though he did at least manage to mutter another word, between giggles.

"Oooooops."

He was still giggling when the hypo hit, and before long he had slumped against Peter, unconscious and limp.

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thegoodbrother
2009-07-01 09:52 am UTC (link)

Peter let Nathan fall to the ground, resolving to let him sleep it off there. Maybe that would teach him a lesson about dropping members of their dysfunctional family to their deaths. It wasn't a habit Nathan needed to get into. He kicked off his shoes, removing Nathan's and putting them on. He was not walking back in vomit-covered shoes. Leaving Nathan in the park, turned on his side so he wouldn't choke if he threw up again, Peter headed back toward Noah's body to wait for Adam.

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lazarusrisen
2009-07-01 09:53 am UTC (link)

Adam wasn't exactly in a rush. Noah wasn't going to get any deader if he took a few more minutes to get there so he took his time, ambling through the streets, checking the signs as he went, until he reached the intersection that Peter had messaged him with, stopping his gait and staring out the scene in front of him. Heaving a sigh, Adam crossed over to Peter, clapping him on the shoulder, "Quite the mess to clean up here," He said, frowning down at Noah's body. "Oh, yeah. That's definitely going to leave a stain."

Pausing, Adam glanced around him for a moment before turning to look at him, "Where's the amazing flying screw up?"

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thegoodbrother
2009-07-01 09:57 am UTC (link)

"Probably." Peter was oddly glad to have Adam there, not even complaining at the physical contact. He honestly sort of needed it right now. "Let's just get this fixed, before mom or Claire somehow shows up." He didn't want to deal with that fallout. Angela had been through enough tonight and Claire didn't need to see Noah dead again. Once was enough for anyone. He took a second hypodermic needle from his jacket pocket and gave it to Adam.

"I sedated him and left him in the park to sleep it off," Peter said off-handedly, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to do. He looked a little sheepish when he continued. "And I might've taken his shoes. But he did throw up on mine..."

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lazarusrisen
2009-07-01 10:23 am UTC (link)

"Good man," Adam said, taking the needle without hesitation as he rolled up his sleeve. This wasn't a complicated matter. It only looked like Noah had broken his neck. He had some other abrasions as well that were causing the pool of blood around him, but nothing seriously enough that it couldn't be fixed. Even the death bit. Drawing the needle full of his own blood, Adam glanced back at Peter with a slight smirk. "He's going to have one hell of a hangover when he comes to. You might want to leave a note so he'll know why he's in the middle of the park, sleeping next to a puddle of vomit, with no shoes on. He's not likely to remember."

Because, God, had he been there and done that. Of course, it wasn't so much a park as it was a random field in a random rural area in a random part of London or Japan. There had been a lot of those in the 1600s.

"All right, old boy," Adam said, shifting his attention and he rolled back Noah's sleeve and injected his arm with the syringe. "Time to get up."

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thegoodbrother
2009-07-01 10:33 am UTC (link)

Peter couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation they were in. "Considering we're saving him from a murder charge," he pointed out, "I'm not really too worried about helping him out more than that. He was a complete ass tonight, and he needs to learn from it." It was quite possibly the strictest he had ever been with Nathan. He tended to buckle when it came to his brother, but he was standing firm on this. Nathan couldn't just do things like this and not face any sort of consequences. Of course, consequences didn't typically mean waking up in a puddle of vomit in a park with no shoes, but Nathan was a special case.

"Thank you for doing this," he told Adam as he watched the older man work. He went ahead and made sure Noah's neck was straightened out, to help the healing go quicker, then he stood up, waiting. It took a little while, but the abrasions healed and the bones of Noah's neck shifted slightly, the injury to the back of his head closing up. Finally, Noah groaned and opened his eyes, looking around. "You, of all people, shouldn't call me old, Monroe." Yes, he had heard their conversation while he'd been standing there with Death.

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lazarusrisen
2009-07-01 10:54 am UTC (link)

"Shut up. I just saved your life. I'll call you whatever I damn well please," Adam said, grinning as he clapped Noah on the shoulder before moving to help him to his feet. It was a pretty fine mess they'd gotten into, and it was a pretty huge blood stain that Noah had left on the street. But he was alive, and really, that was what mattered in the end. That Angela wasn't going to kill her oldest son for murdering her best and most loyal agent in a fight of drunken rage.

"And it's nothing," Adam said, offering the empty needle up to Peter before standing from his crouched position, offering Noah a hand up. "Already did it to Claire once to help her sort out that no pain issue. And besides, it's not like anyone's going to make a habit of dying around here. I've got blood to spare."

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thecompanyman
2009-07-01 11:05 am UTC (link)

Noah shook his head. "Not being ungrateful," he assured Adam with a groan as he was helped to his feet. He stumbled slightly, and Peter moved quickly to steady him. Noah was sort of a mess, with blood all over him and he wasn't entirely steady on his feet, still recovering from the whole being dead thing. He gave Adam and Peter a nod of acknowledgment though. "I'm going to go and get cleaned up and get some sleep. Dying is exhausting. Thank you both again." And then he stumbled off.

Peter watched him go and then turned back to Adam. "Bars aren't closed yet," was all he said. They could both probably use a drink right now. Just not tequila.

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lazarusrisen
2009-07-01 11:17 am UTC (link)

"Bit of a waste on me, really, but if you need the company, I'm not saying no," Adam said, grinning sideways at Peter. Alcohol was really the one thing that he truly missed. It really was true what they say. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic even when it doesn't do anything for you anymore. Adam still missed that empty warm feeling that it left in the pit of his stomach and the back of his head. Now, he could drink galleons of the stuff and barely get buzzed.

Clapping Peter on the back as he smiled, turning and lending the other man in the direction that the bars were, Adam couldn't help but muse out loud. "I wonder if they have any decent sake."

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