Characters: Peter and Nathan Petrelli, the entire clan Petrelli (Angela, Heidi, Simon, Monty and Claire) in later chapters.

Rating: T If you're old enough to watch the series, you should be old enough to read this, too.

A/N: Inspired by Nathan's line in the Fix. "I could have my mentally ill brother detained for his own safety."

Reviews and comments are extremely welcome.

Peter is a lousy liar. He has an ingrained urge to stick to the truth even when it can put him into unfavorable position. Especially when it can put him into unfavorable position. More so, he is sadly out of practice. What is the source of this inexplicable honesty streak in the pedigree of equally rotten apples, all of whom take pride in keeping up appearances, façades and secrets of old, remains a mystery.

Naturally, this doesn't mean that Peter could and would not tell a lie to save his life, or recently, to save the world from himself. Everybody bends the truth sometimes, and even Saint Peter cannot defy this rule. But to his credit it must be admitted that the few times a lie escapes his mouth, he usually has an annoyingly altruistic motive up his sleeve. Peter is full to the brim of Concern, Compassion, Sympathy and other idealistic nonsense, the main subjects in the School of Life for Dreamers Anonymous.

Peter treats others as he would like to be treated; he's the epitome of the golden rule, the ultimate benefactor, if you wish. Unfortunately, the world doesn't give a crap about what Peter thinks. It's an ugly place, and it reeks of general wrongness. It kicks in the face those willing to open the door and letting it do so. Eat or be eaten: the first, foremost and the only law of the jungle.

Peter is 26, lives in the promised land of liars, traitors and backstabbers, and he has yet to grasp the reality.

At the moment Nathan can only thank his lucky stars, because may God have mercy on his soul if Peter is to find out about his plan before they reach their destination.

1.

Peter sits trustingly in the front seat, right next to Nathan, who's steering the wheel with passion. Peter keeps glancing out of the window, drawing in the endless sight of skyscrapers, streetlights and the flood of passers-by, all the while chatting vividly with his brother. Correction: Peter is chatting, Nathan's only dropping appropriate answers in the right places. Peter hardly notices this, or even if he does, he assumes it is because Nathan is busy pondering about the next, yet unknown scandal threatening his campaign, worrying about his image or simply disinterested in the topic at hand. This has never stopped Peter before, Nathan thinks, almost amused - almost. When his little brother gets excited, it is next to impossible to get him to shut up. Nathan has tried and failed miserably. For some reason Peter seems to assume that Nathan shares his enthusiasm about Things That Don't Really Matter. Assumes or hopes, it is an equally numbing experience for Nathan.

Even so, Nathan prefers idle chatter over complete silence. It prevents his mind wandering too much. Right now, Nathan does not want to think at all, period. He has everything planned and organized so perfectly it's almost poetry. He can afford to forget about the future for a short while. Later, he knows, he needs to be iron and ice and nerves of steel.

"Where are we goin', exactly?" Peter queries for the umpteenth time, when there are still plenty of miles to go. They are not even half-way there.

"That's only seventh time you asked," Nathan says.

"Yeah, I know," Peter shrugs. "Wouldn't need to, if you bothered to answer for once."

"I already told you we're meeting with Dr. Suresh and his colleague at LA. Apparently Suresh has better equipment there."

"But you didn't --"

"Does it really bother you not to know the exact address? You've never been good with maps, Pete. And you're not in the shape to drive anyway."

"I'm fine," Peter says expectedly, but Nathan can see he's not convinced himself. "You know, if we'd just taken off, we'd be there already."

Nathan's knuckles turn momentarily white as his fingers bore into the steering wheel. His eyes desert the road for a second or two. "You're free to treat... this--" 'this' is Nathan's pet term for flying, returning from dead and all that unnatural jazz, which has dared to ruin his carefully scheduled and programmed world. Unforgivable, really, "-- like it was actually a good thing. But don't expect me to join the club. I honestly want to forget about that crap. I'm running for Congress, for Christ's sake. I can't afford to fool around."

"And it's more important to be a head of a dead city rather than save it?" Peter's voice rises an octave or so like it always does when he's agitated.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't trying to prevent the catastrophe. Even if I still don't know whether the explosion is going to happen or whether you're just plain crazy." Peter glares at him, although Nathan can tell he's not really angry; it's part of the act they've been playing for years."I gave you my word, Pete. You can trust that I'm gonna keep it."

"Being Petrelli and all, you have to" Peter grins, followed by a genuine smile so full of gratefulness and trust that Nathan would like to grab him from shoulders and shake hard, order him to rip the blinders from his eyes and wake up to the reality. If Nathan had a conscience, now would probably be the right time for it to start knocking on his door. With an ax. But true to his name, Nathan has learned to mute the tiny voice inside his head and pretend that the small sting he feels in his chest has everything to do with problematic digestive system and nothing to do with not playing by the rules. The only thing he can't ignore with practiced ease is Peter, but on the other hand Peter is the sole reason why he has to do this before the situation runs completely out of control. Nathan is willing to do virtually anything to keep his little brother safe (preferably in one piece) and that, Nathan assures himself, justifies what he's about to do. After all, he has Peter's best interests at heart.

"You should get some sleep," Nathan says after Peter yawns so widely one could imagine him trying to swallow the sun.

"I'm okay."

"You look like hell," Nathan says. "Let me guess, you didn't eat anything before we left?"

"Forgot," Peter states. "We gonna take a break at some point anyway, I can grab some snacks. I could use the sugar rush."

"Or you could simply get some sleep."

"I just had two weeks worth of quality sleep," Peter says, yawning again. His eyes are hardly half-open. It's obvious he's fighting to stay awake. What's even more obvious, it's a losing fight.

"You were in coma," Nathan says dryly. "That doesn't count."

Peter does not comment that. He has apparently decided to focus all his strength to stay awake out of pure spite. Nathan knows that if he continues to press the matter, Peter will not fall asleep even if it is going to kill him - again. Peter puts a whole new spin to the word "stubborn". The ghost of their mother on Peter's youthful face reveals where he does get that from.

"I meant the jet," Peter says suddenly out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?" Nathan honestly has no idea.

"Your private jet. When I said 'taken off', I meant your plane. I thought you'd get it." Peter stifles a yawn and rubs his eyes absently. As if Nathan wouldn't notice.

"Oh." Nathan says, collecting his thoughts like a deck of cards. "Right. I considered that, but it's better if we keep... low profile. The world doesn't need to know we're planning to save it."

Silence claims the car for a couple of minutes.

"Would you have preferred the jet, then?" Nathan asks when he thinks he cannot take it anymore. "You don't look much better than when you were in the hospital, and I suppose you don't feel better, either. I could pull right over, and you could hop on the backseat. Not exactly as comfortable as a plane, I admit, but this is as comfortable as it gets here."

Surprisingly, Peter does not argue. The even sound of his breath betrays he has already fallen asleep.

Nathan wipes cold sweat from his forehead, stops the vehicle and forsakes the resident Sleeping Beauty to make a couple of phone calls.

When they make their third pit stop somewhere in Colorado, Nathan needs to use force to wake Peter up. It takes a long while (and lots of prodding and poking) for Peter to join the living and he's definitely not giving up his comfort spot somewhere in the La-La-Land willingly. Nathan ushers Peter out of the car without mercy like the soldier he is, ordering him to buy something to eat while Nathan refuels the old faithful. Eventually it's Nathan who ends up buying Peter a cheese sandwich and shrimp for himself, because Peter's idea of lunch seems to be a bottle of Coke and a candy bar.

"I'm not hungry," Peter says tonelessly, but starts nibbling his sandwich anyway.

"Give me a break, Pete. You've ordered from the IV menu for two weeks. Ma gets a fit if you lose even half a pound."

"Since when you started listening to Ma?" Peter cocks his eyebrow in mock challenge, unimpressed. He downs the remains of his sandwich with soda.

"Whenever it fits me," Nathan retorts.

Soon Peter's fast asleep again, dead-to-the-world in the true Peter fashion, his head lolling and bobbing slightly from one side to another in the rhythm of their ride. Nathan sighs and loosens his tie. Even with the glow of street lights, the road ahead is pitch black from now on.

Peter stirs when he hears someone mentioning his name. It is not Nathan, he realizes, and it's not Dr. Suresh, either. He forces his droopy lids open and stretches his limbs, which have gone positively numb during his prolonged nap. The car isn't moving. Peter glances out of the window and spots his brother engaged in a conversation with a man in his late fifties and two younger men dressed in all white. Dr. Suresh is missing in action. There is something very curious about the setting.

Peter decides he wants out right now and attempts to open the door, only to find it won't budge. Stunned, he tries again, but the door is locked. Nathan must have done it accidentally, Peter reasons, unless this is his idea of a bad joke.

He knocks the glass several times to catch his brother's attention.

"Hey! Hey! HEY!"

Nathan turns to see Peter is awake, and Peter notices a crease deepen on Nathan's forehead. He raises his finger to signal Peter to wait a moment. Peter isn't overjoyed, but he has no choice, since he's trapped behind locks. Nathan says something and the men turn to look at Peter in unison. He's beginning to have an alarmingly bad feeling about this.

"Hey! C'mon!" Peter hammers the window with his fists furiously. He wants to know what's going on here.

Nathan sends a conspiratorial glance on his new pals, and strides towards the car. He reaches inside his pocket for the remote control to unlock the doors. Peter hurries out of the car as if it was burning and almost hits his head into the roof in the process.

"That's not Mohinder," Peter states the obvious and Nathan would like to congratulate him for his keen insight. "Where's Mohinder?"

"Dr. Suresh is inside. This is his colleague Dr. Amos Pierson," Nathan answers calmly, but for some reason he is avoiding Peter's intent gaze. The man called Pierson offers his hand for Peter to shake. Peter is about to grab it, until he realizes that the men dressed in white have moved on both sides of him. Instinctively, he backs off, his eyes huge like dinner plates.

"What the hell's going on, Nathan?" Peter asks.

"Why won't we just go inside, Pete?" Nathan suggests. Their eyes lock for a moment and Peter knows instantly that he has been set up, that this is a trap, that there is no Dr. Suresh here nor there ever was. He turns on his heels, meaning to taste the better part of valor, but the men grab him by arms and prevent him from escaping.

"Nathan?" Peter's voice betrays anger, shock and sheer horror of the situation. Whatever this is, it's definitely not found on his top-ten-things-to-do list. "Nathan, what's going on?"

Nathan closes his eyes, searching for the right combination of truths and lies to be delivered in one neat packet.

"You are sick, Pete. I'm trying to help you, these men are trying to help you."

"What are you talkin' about, I'm not sick anymore!" Panicked, Peter tries to squirm free, but it gives his capturers only a reason to strengthen their iron grip.

"Yes you are. You are seeing and hearing things that don't exist, Pete. You have hallucinations and weird ideas. Hell, you even jumped off the roof to prove my point - twice. But it's okay, these men take good care of you, make sure you don't harm yourself anymore."

Peter ceases his fruitless struggle for a moment. He wants to understand. He needs to understand.

"Why are you doing this, Nathan?" he asks, trembling from emotional merry-go-round. He's coming apart right there, powerless and defeated, betrayed by his own brother, who he loves even now more than he can ever begin to comprehend.

"Because you are my brother, and I think this is for the best," Nathan says, and for a fleeting moment Peter imagines he catches something akin a tear in Nathan's brown eyes.

"Whose best?" Peter questions quietly.

"Believe it or not, I'm doing this for you, Pete," Nathan says and nods to Dr. Pierson. "Do I need to sign any more forms or is this done?"

"Don't do this, Nathan! Nathan! Please, don't do this!" Peter screams as the nurses start dragging him away. "Nathan! Don't do this! Don't leave me here! Nathan!"

"He's hysterical. Valium, 10mg," someone cuts in, but Peter sees only Nathan.

"I'm sorry Pete," Nathan mouths before walking back to the car.