Tired of living like a blind man ( Part 1 )

[ So every year at Christmas I watch at least one version of A Christmas Carol on tv, which inspired me to write this. It's basically a knock-off of the Charles Dickens novel. The character taking the place of scrooge is Nathan Petrelli, and instead of being stingy and grouchy at Christmas, he has other issues. He gets visited by three spirits, after being warned by a Jacob Marley-esque character about what will happen if he doesn't change. Obviously, there will be many differences, but the concept is stolen from the Christmas classic. Most of the scenes I had them revisit, I didn't write in explicit detail. If you watch the show, you should be vaguely familiar with what's going on, and if not, I'm sorry. I don't have the patience to write out every scenario in explicit detail, but I hope I covered enough of it to clue you in on what's going on - or at least why it's important. I'll be posting this in sections, so look for future additions if you like part 1. ]

Nathan knew he shouldn't have had that drink. This wasn't the first time he'd carried on a conversation with Linderman after his death, but at least before he'd just gotten out of the hospital after being shot down at a press conference. His judgement had been impaired.

Linderman had come to issue him a warning. If he didn't straighten out his life, he was going to end up paying for every single mistake he'd ever made, and the burden would be far more than he could bear. He was also informed that he'd be visited by three ghosts ... or was it spirits? Either one sounded ridiculous. He'd seen a lot of crazy things lately, but this was way out there. Besides, listening to Linderman had never led to anything good. If he did get any more surprise guests, he'd be sure to watch his back. The one thing he had learned was people weren't ever what they seemed.

So what had he done to prepare for this epiphany he was supposed to have? Nothing. He'd poured himself another glass of wine and sat down in front of the fireplace. He'd already opened the bottle: might as well finish it.

The flames flickered, then dimmed as if they were about to go out as a sudden chill swept through the room. It passed relatively quickly, so Nathan didn't think much of it until a familiar figure appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "Meredith?" It'd been awhile. He hadn't seen her since ... well, since she'd showed up with Bennet. His first thought was that something had happened to Claire. She was their common link. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Claire?" If she was here to lecture him about what he was doing, she could turn right back around and leave. He'd left their daughter out of it, and that was the best he could do - or it was the only compromise he was willing to make.

"Claire's fine. She's safe with her father ... her other father. I'm here for you. Since you and I had a history of our own, it seems only fitting that I would get to be your ghost of Christmas past, or something like that. Think of it more as a stroll down memory lane."

"You're a ghost?" He stood and absentmindedly took a step back as he studied her, trying to decide what exactly she was trying to accomplish. "Don't you have to be-"

"Dead? Yeah, about that ... I didn't make it, but there's still time for you."

Dead? "How?" A skeptical brow rose when he glanced down at the hand she was offering him. She didn't seem all that anxious to engage in any small-talk. Clearly she was here for a purpose, and all he had to do was grab on and let her show him the key to fixing his life, starting with where he'd first made a mess of things. It was a tempting proposal. Hindsight was a powerful thing, but sometimes a person needed a little help remembering certain times in his life: times he might have otherwise forgotten or conveniently overlooked while reflecting back. By taking her hand, he lost the luxury of picking and choosing what he saw. Meredith was leading the way.

Their first stop on this journey they'd spontaneously embarked on took him back ... way back. He and Peter were just a couple of kids, young and stupid. This was before he'd learned what a cruel place the world was and what it took to survive in it. But those boys looked happy. Gone were those days. Happiness like that didn't exist for either of them anymore. Truth be told, it was hard to stand here and watch knowing what would happen to those two ... the trials they'd go through. Never would they have imagined at that age that they'd end up on opposite sides in the future. It hurt to acknowledge that they'd been so close once, and now ...

Now it was time to go. It seemed like they'd only been there a minute or two. Couldn't they stay just a little while longer? But Meredith only shook her head and insisted they keep going. They had a long way to go. This was only the beginning, and while it was important to remember the good times, darker ones waited just around the corner. It was there they would linger the longest.

They flew by the earlier years which were the ones Nathan would consider his best. They were certainly the most enjoyable. After that, everything had gotten very complicated.

He recognized this next scene, rather well actually. Mom and Dad were throwing a big fancy party and had invited all their friends - including Linderman. It was beyond strange to see himself at any age, but particularly when he looked identical to how he appeared now. He was there with Meredith, but he couldn't speak to anyone. They didn't hear him. Apparently they didn't see him either. But he wasn't clear on what he was supposed to be observing. Dad was standing off to the side conversing with Linderman, while he poured himself a drink and chatted with Peter who hated these kinds of functions. Therefore, they always stuck close.

As if she had read his mind, Meredith lifted a finger and pointed, directing him over to the far side of the room. Following her silent instruction, he shook his head at how foolish it was to be going along with an ex-girlfriend who claimed she was dead, but he did it anyway, though his pace came to an abrupt halt when he nearly stumbled into his father who was talking to Linderman - no surprise there. What was surprising was the topic of discussion: him. Nathan's curiosity peaked as he invisibly trailed behind the two, listening closer than before. - 'And what if that doesn't take?' - 'Then I'll kill him.'

Nathan stared in sheer disbelief. Surely he'd heard wrong ...

No. That was wishful thinking, and wishful thinking was pointless. He was a realist, and this was the undebatable truth. Had someone told him, he wouldn't have believed it. But he'd been shown, and there was no argument he could provide in his father's defense ... or his own.

"Dad was the one who tried to have me killed." A disappointed frown settled across his face before he felt Meredith place her hand gently on his shoulder. That's when the scene changed; it transformed into the hospital where he'd first received the news that Heidi would never walk again. She could exceed everyone's expectations, but there had been little hope of a full recovery. Nathan watched as his temper went from bad to worse, and Peter pried him away from the current target of his rage. - 'I'm going to hurt that man, and when I do, if you're standing next to him, you're going to get hurt too. It's time to choose a side, Dad: your client or your family.' - If he'd known then what he knew now, he wouldn't have bothered issuing the ultimatum. Linderman was just the fall guy. He was still a scumbag, but he wasn't the leader of the pack. He never had been.

Everything started to blend together: the party, the accident, the scene at the hospital, and him going over to tell Peter that their father was dead. He hadn't realized at the time how cold he'd been when he delivered the news. He'd assumed that Pete wouldn't be that affected. Sure, he was sensitive, but as Nathan had so bluntly pointed out, he'd given up on Dad a long time ago. Only one of them was truly grieving, or so he'd thought. But now he was getting a chance to see what was going on with Peter on the other side of that door after he'd walked away. The painful conclusion he came to was that his brother had needed him, and he'd shut him out. He'd been so consumed by what he was feeling that he'd neglected to consider that even though the two hadn't gotten along, Peter would miss him too: if nothing else, because he was their father.

In retrospect, neither of them should've been mourning Arthur Petrelli's death.

The scenes continued to change as they moved farther down the timeline. Nathan had just publicly announced that Peter suffered from depression as their father had, and his 'accident' had been a failed suicide attempt. It was a bleak alternative, but he had been convinced that it was better than telling the truth; bottom line, it was safer. Of course his brother hadn't seen it that way. Despite being confident that he'd done what he had to, he regretted hurting Pete in the process.

They came and went so frequently now that he had a hard time keeping up, but she had a schedule to keep, and they didn't have a second to spare. The months flew by, and in that short period of time, he'd distanced himself from everyone he'd ever claimed to love. His wife had taken the boys and left after he'd become a drunk. He'd accused his mother of being evil, feeling no remorse whatsoever, especially when she started openly blaming him for Peter's death. He avoided talking to Claire, and saw a monster in the mirror every time he looked into one. On top of everything else, he'd lost that precious seat in Congress he'd fought so hard for. He'd believed his brother was dead, and then he'd learned he wasn't. Not too long after that, he'd found Peter. And for the briefest moment, they were closer than they'd been in over a year - possibly longer than that.

The shots that came next weren't heard around the world, but they blew him and Peter further apart than ever. Once his brother ( from the future ) confessed to being the one who pulled the trigger, even if he did want Nathan's forgiveness, there'd been a wall built. This was what they had come to, and when their father had 'come back to life,' everything got even more confusing. He hadn't known who to trust. The idea had been a good one, and the difference they could make with that kind of power ... Peter didn't understand, but even then Nathan hadn't wanted them to become enemies.

... Which was exactly what'd happened. The last flashback he was forced to relive was the fire that destroyed Pinehearst and nearly destroyed him. Had it not been for Peter taking the formula ...

'It's not what I would've done.' That's the last thing he'd said to his brother. So many sacrifices had been made on all sides, and the only thing he could feel was disgust, although who that disgust was directed at was a complicated debate.

Nathan turned to face Meredith, who aside from a comment here and there had been relatively silent this whole time. "Everything you've shown me has already happened. What am I supposed to do about it now?" People always said you couldn't change the past, and that's all this was ... a horrific glimpse back. Realizing he'd been wrong on occasion wasn't going to fix anything, and so his question was asked with sincere curiosity. If she had done all this, forget how, then she had to have a suggestion: she had to know where he was supposed to go from here.

"I'm sorry, Nathan. But that's something you have to figure out for yourself. Good luck." She leaned in to give him a kiss ...

... Then he awoke with a start. It would appear as if he'd nodded off in his chair, his empty drinking glass lying on its side on the floor. Though if that had been a dream, it was the most realistic one he'd ever had.

Regardless of what it was, it had a profound effect on him. It forced him to think about a lot of things, namely how he'd taken Peter for granted, treated him poorly, and often it was because he'd sided with Dad. But he couldn't take it back ... after everything, there might not even be a way to make it right anymore. It was very possible that Pete saw him for who he really was now. What had he called him: a weak puppet? That's before he'd tried to kill him. Even if he could bring himself to seek out his brother, how could he ever look him in the eyes? Better yet, how could he ever ask to be forgiven, and was it really better that way?