Honestly? You were probably more damaging than I ever was. You told people you had an ability when you got here. You were looking for others with powers, probably cause the one you had wasn't much use on a spaceship.
There's no point being snippy with me. Not like I didn't try to tell you, but you were so busy with your one man army bullshit that you didn't want to hear any of it.
You come to me out of nowhere, bruised to fuck, tell me Dad's alive. You'd been thrown out of an eighth story window, somehow survived it without being able to heal any more. No ability at all. Nothing. Dad took them.
I didn't believe you - couldn't, without proof - and you're not gonna believe me either, are you?
[ For this exact moment in time, Peter's just going to listen but refuse to process. Because he can do that, he's done it before -- stuff it all away until later on. Down the beaten path, when he really can't take it anymore and it'll rear its ugly head back at him and demand he give up what little of his mind he has left. But on the phone with Nathan isn't the time for it and he gets back on track after all skipping a beat or two, the tone of his voice hallowing out. ]
So how'd I get one back, exactly?
[ He knows the answer to this already, doesn't he. And god, how he doesn't want to have to hear it. ]
Doesn't really matter who's the special one anymore, Nathan. Who can fly, who can't. Who lies about it.
[ This would be the point in the conversation where Peter contemplates throwing his comm against the wall. ] Maybe for you it burned to the ground but the Pinehearst I know's still up and running. But that doesn't even matter here.
Means I probably killed our father. Your Nathan. Or maybe not. Maybe he's still there, pulling all the strings. I doubt it. He'd have taken all your powers by now, same as he did my Peter.
Our father, Pete. You don't even know. But it matters. He was a monster; worse than either of us ever were. He made us, poisoned us. We didn't stand a chance.
You shot him, Pete. Sylar killed him. But I prefer to think he was really dead when Ma did it; after Pop framed Linderman for making an attempt on my life. I like to think of him that way because I remember actually feeling some sort of loss after it happened. I remembered thinking back fondly on the father we thought he was, and not the one he was revealed to be. You remember that?
We all killed him, one way or another; we're all equally guilty, all equally responsible... All equally better off.
[ There's just dead air for a couple seconds - Peter contemplating saying something else, anything else. Those other people he killed for instance. That life he used to have; the one way back when they thought their father was something else.
call;
call;
call;
You were the one who said it was no big deal, Nathan, not me.
call;
call;
call;
call;
Re: call;
call;
[ wait...
... ]
One?
call;
That's right, you didn't go through any of that, did you?
call;
[ Because he hasn't gone through enough already? ]
call;
There's no point being snippy with me. Not like I didn't try to tell you, but you were so busy with your one man army bullshit that you didn't want to hear any of it.
You come to me out of nowhere, bruised to fuck, tell me Dad's alive. You'd been thrown out of an eighth story window, somehow survived it without being able to heal any more. No ability at all. Nothing. Dad took them.
I didn't believe you - couldn't, without proof - and you're not gonna believe me either, are you?
call;
So how'd I get one back, exactly?
[ He knows the answer to this already, doesn't he. And god, how he doesn't want to have to hear it. ]
call;
The formula. But you already knew that, didn't you?
Pinehearst manufactured it. Dad's company.
[ He is not implicating himself in this, okay. ]
call;
[ He's this close to his limit, more than eager to hang up. ]
call;
[ Another hesitation. ]
There's something else, Pete. My power--flying? It was synthetic too. I... I wasn't born like this, Pete. Like you. You were the special one.
call;
[ This would be the point in the conversation where Peter contemplates throwing his comm against the wall. ] Maybe for you it burned to the ground but the Pinehearst I know's still up and running. But that doesn't even matter here.
Nothing does.
call;
Our father, Pete. You don't even know. But it matters. He was a monster; worse than either of us ever were. He made us, poisoned us. We didn't stand a chance.
call;
call;
Doesn't really matter, does it? Dad was evil, Pete. He needed to be stopped.
call;
call;
We all killed him, one way or another; we're all equally guilty, all equally responsible... All equally better off.
call;
[ There's just dead air for a couple seconds - Peter contemplating saying something else, anything else. Those other people he killed for instance. That life he used to have; the one way back when they thought their father was something else.
Before he just goes ahead and hangs up. ]