When Worlds Collide: RP for yearsguilt

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There was a distinct sense that it was very possible that he ought not be doing this. Repercussions could abound, sliding between both of their timelines. Already the questions abounded of what he was like in this Peter's world. If Kirby Plaza happened, then Hiro was not there, and Sylar had not thrown him to the wall...or had he? He should ask, he thought. Ask if they had all been there, and Hiro still...Because if it had gone wrong in just that Claire hadn't shot Peter or Nathan hadn't appeared, hadn't stepped away from Angela and to save Peter, then Hiro still could have been flung back in the past and his own life taken the same course until somehow, some other way, he escaped the Company facility.

But it hadn't happened that way here, and part of him felt his headache with the repercussions of that, because if changing it here hadn't changed this boy's future, then had Hiro stopping him in that vault not truly changed the future his Peter had seen? Had the virus been released somewhere, somehow? Was there a world where with God's grace it had all gone right? And if so, why was he stuck in this one where everything felt fragile and hard and sharp, like he could fall apart at any moment, and the choices that tore from emotions he'd never expected nor wanted to feel seemed harder. A setback, surely. Just that, a few more weeks, a month or two, some sleep, some rest, and he'd be fine. Back to his old self, back to looking about. Back to a new plan.

So damn the timelines crossing, he decided, as he entered the Yaffa Cafe, taking in the bright animal prints and Christmas lights strung around and smiled to see that some things didn't change, even if his blessed East Village had gone and gotten gentrified while he was locked away. This he knew, the music and the people, and if the clothes changed, the air did not. He'd settled on jeans, considering the venue, and a sweater over a button down shirt, with his leather jacket and scarf. Casual, but still pulled together, unable to be sloppy. If he was nervous, it didn't show as his cool eyes scanned the room, looking for a familiar face, and, failing to find it, moving to take a seat at a booth in the back where he could watch the door and wait for Peter, this new Peter who shouldn't be here, but was, to appear.


[ooc for anyone reading: For now, I think this is in the "open" verse. Coming out of RP in sixwordstories, but I think that's best, so "his Peter" would be youngerpetrelli when referred to in discussion with this one, yeah?]

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Adam shifted a little in his seat, eyes falling to his coffee with a faraway look. "I haven't thought about it in so long. I was twenty seven, at the time, almost twenty-eight. I was living in Japan there, working as a mercenary after several years of training as a samurai." He smiled a little. "One day, during a battle, my decoy was on the field and I was waiting in ambush for the rest of the enemy army when suddenly a boy appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my decoy and they both vanished. I went after them...and told the boy who I was. At the time I'd taken the name Takezo Kensei." He glanced up to see if it meant anything to Peter, watching him carefully.

"The boy was Hiro Nakamura. He knew the name, he told me, because he was from the future. He then spent days trying to convince me that I had some great destiny to save Japan and needed to embrace it, move forward. I finally caved, only to walk out, find myself surrounded by bandits and shot to death with arrows. Only, when Hiro pulled the arrows out...I healed." His smile twisted a bit. "I...thought he'd cursed me. I thought he was a demon from hell, at first, a spirit, and that he had made me some sort of monster, an abomination. But when I realized what it truly meant, the more we talked, the more explained about people with abilities in the future, the more I decided I liked it. Useful, really, when a warrior, to know you can't be killed, can heal from any wound."

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Peter could only nod as he took in this information, suddenly realizing that Hiro was responsible for setting the timeline of the hero known at Takezo Kensei. It must have been something, be responsible in helping create a much told samurai tale. There was a moment where a thin smile curled over Peter’s lips, finding it amusing that Adam thought himself as an abomination – being cursed. It was almost the opposite reaction. Peter thought it was a sign for him to finally be someone, to rise up out of his brother’s shadow and finally become something special. It had first started with believing he could fly and then it just changed into so much more when he discovered he could mimic the abilities of those around him. He was a sponge, or at least that’s what Claude liked to call him.

The empath.

“I think we all have to embrace who we are at some point or another. We can’t neglect what we’re capable of because it isn’t necessarily healthy. Hating it won’t do any good either since it isn’t as if being angry will make it go away. The day I exploded – the day I took so many lives. I completely changed my view on what I was. There was nothing special or great about what I did. I wasn’t turning into this person that I could one day look back on and be proud of. I know you’ve said that what I’ve done isn’t my fault, that there was no way I could have possibly known I was going to ignite and take half the city of New York with me, but that doesn’t take away how I feel.”

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"No, I imagine it wouldn't," Adam said softly. "I ... believe in you, though, Peter. In the Peter I know, but also in you. From what you've said, you are using your abilities to really try and help people in your world. To recover...it wasn't your fault. Everything they did to set it in motion, the Company behind it...you were just learning what you were, learning how to handle things, and to be exposed to that sort of power? You still are special. You are the most powerful of any of us, and yes. Your loss of control came at a huge price, but you're learning. You can still turn into a person you can be proud of. You have time." He hoped, somehow. The scar still worried him.

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“What am I to you?” It was asked so abruptly, those brown eyes having narrowed almost in some kind of defensive manner. The way Adam talked, how he hoped that Peter would change for the better. He couldn’t help but sense something else, something that Peter Petrelli was oblivious to until he really took notice. It helped that they were standing there face to face and in person. Adam was like an open book and Peter was reading him in bold print.

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The narrowed eyes took Adam aback, the earnestness sliding out of his own as the mask he normally hid behind slid firmly back in place.

"Which you?" he asked with a sardonic smile. "You-you? Or the you in this time line?"

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"Peter Petrelli in general." It was easy to say, his tone returning in an almost warning for Adam's sudden smart alec response. Despite some logic in what Adam said, he had to know what Peter was asking and he was starting to take it rather personally. Peter didn’t enjoy beating around the bush. He wanted straight answers.

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Adam's eyebrow went up a bit at the warning, half amused. His Peter didn't often dare to take that tone, no matter if he rather wished he would sometimes. It was intriguing.

"I'm not sure there is an 'in general' response. You, personally, intrigue me because you are him on the road not taken. You are what could have been in this time line, what is somewhere else. You are an enigma and a mystery and I am a very curious man who is far too often bored after all this time," Adam said, watching him.

"The Peter I know, here, the reason you intrigue me so? He's my friend. My student, in some ways, or perhaps my protégé, if you will. And my lover," he admitted, with a slightly sardonic smile. "One of them, anyway, as I am one of his." That part he hated more than a little, a flash of a flare of jealousy in his eyes, there and gone. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

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But this wasn’t Adam’s Peter. This Peter was ruthless, parts of him rotten to the core for all the misery and pain years did to him. He wasn’t tamed and for all he knew New York was still his city – his little playground that he needed to protect. He would do anything to protect it and stick around however long he needed. His own timeline needed him as well, the back and forth trips bringing in some new sight to how things were.

Peter’s expression doubled out as the word lover escaped Adam’s lips. He actually scoffed, amused by what he thought was some kind of joke. Brown eyes stared deeply into Adam’s solid blue ones as his lips parted, the light twitch visible below his eyes as he realized that he wasn’t joking at all.

“What?” It wasn’t every day that Peter found out he had a lover who wasn’t a woman – that his past self was sleeping around with others as well instead of just one person.

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Adam sighed, leaning back against the back of the booth. "So, it isn't just Kirby Plaza that's different. That's interesting." He hadn't been his Peter's first male lover, though perhaps the first who'd stuck around, wanted more. The one before him, he'd gladly kill for abandoning the boy, if he ever got his hands on the man. The one he shared him with, he'd probably do anything for, but not even his Peter knew that, and he intended to keep it that way.

"Does it bother you?" he asked, curious.

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“Yes.” Peter was an honest man. If something heard wasn’t like he didn’t hesitate to make it known. It wasn’t like Peter was disgusted, it was just that he didn’t understand how he was shaped that way – what had happened to him to make himself decide that men were better to take to bed rather than some girl. Peter couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would be like to be with a man, but aside all else there was some part of him that could see the physical attraction.

Now, it made Peter wonder what it would have been like if he had found Adam sooner in his future. He wondered if something inside of him would have clicked to make himself decide that he didn’t have to just hold himself against one person – against Niki. That he could have easily confided himself in Adam and he would have taken him in just as easily as he had the Peter in this timeline.

“And then again, it doesn’t.” He found himself saying in amazement, the lonely side of himself slowly surfacing as he sat there quietly, his coffee still untouched.

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Adam gave him a wry smile, taking another sip of his coffee. "I'm sorry," he murmured quietly. "I'm not sure...I suppose I didn't realize it would come as that much of a surprise. At least not my," he hesitated over the word, "Interest. I'm nearly four-hundred years old. Things like gender cease to be as important as what's inside someone, the connections you form."

Plus he'd been in the merchant navy, the British navy, and a pirate, he thought ruefully, loud enough for Peter to hear if he was trying. You learned things then about need and friendship and comfort. And love, though that thought was gone as fast as it came, pushed back, hard to the places he didn't have to examine it.

"His friendship means more to me than that," he told him, half hoping to reassure him. "We went through hell together, in the Company's cells. He gave me hope when I didn't have any left, and I like to think I kept him from going mad. He got me out of there when no one else could. I owe him my life, literally."

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Peter understood perfectly now. Adam had lived for four hundred years – four hundred years worth of relationships. Peter knew that Adam probably decided long ago that gender wasn’t an issue – it wasn’t disturbing or odd anymore and Peter had to accept Adam for who he was, even if the Peter of this present was now playing this type of house game with Monroe.

Loneliness. It was the one thing any Peter Petrelli of the past, present or future wanted to do without. Peter attempted to find that in many people, but nothing ever lasted long enough. He was never really able to find that one person that could keep him stable, to keep him still and calm. He was constantly trying to protect and save everyone, but there was never someone there to save him.

“Do you love him?” He asked, those dark brown eyes finally lifting to gaze into Adam’s blue ones. He had almost hesitated with the question and almost like the word “me” slip instead of “him”, but he was able to balance himself out quickly enough to not say it.

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It was a question Adam wasn't sure he wanted to, or even could, answer, but at the same time, it was honest and it deserved as honest of an answer as he could bring himself to give.

He glanced down for just a moment, then back up, willing himself to meet and hold Peter's eyes.

"I could," he acknowledged. "I don't love easily. I've been betrayed too many times, been the one not chosen, the one walked away from, the one cheated on. It's hard to trust. And he...loves someone else a great deal. So, I find myself keeping my guard up, trying not to let myself fall too hard, knowing if push came to shove I am not the one he would choose." A deep breath, and then a soft acknowledgment. "But I could."

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“I wouldn’t do that to you – I can’t say the same about my past self, but I can’t have multiple lovers. I don’t think I can handle baggage like that. It isn’t right; it isn’t really fair to the other person if more than two hearts are involved. I’m not judging you and I’m not saying what you’re doing it wrong. I just think that you shouldn’t share – because you can’t really be all that happy in the end and I think you know that.”

Jealously was a silly thing. It probably wasn’t much of an issue with Adam, but it had to be there somewhere. If his past self was running around having sex with other people, how could a person honestly attempt something as deep and meaningful as love? Peter thought he found it once, thought it was something so perfection, but it was soon realized that love wasn’t real.

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"It's complicated," Adam said with a sad sort of smile. "And to be fair, I haven't asked him for any sort of commitment, and the person he does love was there before me, and I'm not...It's complicated. But, I agree with you, mostly. I don't share well, anyway. I'm far too jealous, far too possessive. To a fault, really." Wanting to destroy Japan over a single kiss probably was going a bit too far, he could acknowledge. "I've had multiple lovers before, but never when it moved toward real love. I had to share someone I loved once. She was married, and he was horrible, but she wouldn't leave him. It didn't end well." That those involved were Peter's parents, he kept locked firmly behind walls he'd learned to keep up around telepaths.

"I promised myself then...never again. But finding that someone you can truly, openly, finally give your whole heart to is difficult when you're me."

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Peter found himself easily deep in thought, his brown eyes lifting up to stare into Adam's blue ones. He wondered if this would happen to him and it made him unsure if he really wanted to go through it. He absorbed Adam's ability and there was that good chance that Peter wouldn't age anymore - that he would stay the same way forever and have to watch the world change and go on. Whether or not he would change with it was beyond him at the moment, he couldn't say for sure.

"Never again?" That made him perk up, breaking Peter away from what he was thinking. It was easy to say that he wanted to find that person as well, wanted to feel that love that nobody wanted to give him.

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Adam's eyes dropped to his coffee, taking a sip before he continued, then staring in its depths.

"Never sharing someone I loved, never not...speaking up when I had the chance, when it was real, but. Then they locked me away, her husband and his friends, just when I was set to beg her to leave him, if that's what it took." Or command. "And I lost her. And now? Everything has changed. The world changed while I sat in a cell in a basement, unchanging no matter what they did to me there. So, now that certainty is gone, and I just...am willing to accept whatever I can get on the off chance that someday it will be more. At the very least, then, I am not completely alone."

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But Peter was, at least, that’s how he still felt even now. It was slowly starting to become clear how the Peter from the past found Adam attractive in his own way and those feelings were slowly slipping into him. It was surprising and he wondered if he was forcing himself to feel this way because of the horrible rejection from Niki. He didn’t want Adam to be some kind of rebound from something that was just going to simply crash and burn in the end and yet he there was a part of Peter that wanted to see how far he could push it before Adam gave him that same rejection. It almost sounded like he was going to attempt to dig his own grave of despair, but what if it wasn’t going to be like that? What if maybe…

“Do you want to go somewhere?” It was asked bluntly, his brown eyes watching Adam intently before he allowed them to drift down to his coffe – still untouched. He wasn’t in the mood anymore and he figured it would make the waitress upset that he didn’t even touched the beverage served to him. He didn’t care.

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Adam's head snapped back up, eyes clear and assessing, sliding over Peter, trying to gauge his mood and intent. But he didn't know this Peter the way he knew his, couldn't read him like an open book, knowing just what to say or not say to get him to melt back into Adam's will. It was a challenge, which he almost never could walk away from. But more than that, he was still Peter Petrelli. And he had a hard time saying no to those eyes, no matter whose face they were in. He always had, he thought with a touch of regret.

"All right," he agreed, with a slight smile. "Where? My place is just a couple of blocks, on Avenue C, if you'd prefer somewhere more...private."

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“Your place it is.” I’ll need to know where it is just in case I decide to drop by again. The thought was processed way to fast for Peter’s liking and his face showed a brief moment of surprise. He finally took one sip from his coffee as he got up, finding it bitter and almost cold as licked his lips clean from the caffeine. He gave him an assuring nod before pushing his seat back into place before setting a few dollars down that would pay for his bill – it probably was a dollar or two over, but he really didn’t mind that.

His mind was trying to process all of this, his stomach tightening at what he was actually thinking. He pushed it all aside for the moment, his expression becoming soft once again as he waited for Adam.

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Adam dropped his money on the table as well, pulling his jacket back on as he stood, picking up his gloves and scarf from the seat next to him. He wasn't sure where, exactly, this was heading, and the uncertainty almost made his breath catch in his throat. He didn't say anything as he led the way out of the cafe with a tossed smile at the waitress. He came in often enough to almost be a regular, his cooking skills less than stellar, even after all this time.

"This way," he said, nodding his head in the right direction, winding the scarf back around his neck as they walked. Thirty years without the sun and wind seemed to have thinned his blood, making him cold most of the time in the winter. Maybe Hiro was right, and he should have gone somewhere warm. "Do you have somewhere you stay when you're here?" he asked, curiosity and a need to say something warring to force the words out.

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Peter didn’t even look at the waitress when he stepped out of the café, but he had a good idea that she probably didn’t like that he ignored it and the thought she processed made him almost smile. Parkman’s mind reading ability was good for a few things. He shoved his bare hands into his coat pockets once outside, the cold air hitting his lips to suck the color right out of them as those brown eyes followed where Adam’s head was tilting. He obliged, keeping with Adam’s pace as he made sure to pay attention when turns needed to be made.

“No,” he answered, knowing that it was the honest truth behind it. The place he was staying was only temporary seeing how his home in this time wasn’t the same as it was back in Las Vegas. Peter had made places to stay in the future seeing how his work as a “terrorist” took him to all sorts of areas. “Why do you ask?”

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"Just wondering," Adam said, glancing at him with a slight smile. "I wasn't sure how often you...how long you have been here, in our timeline. What you've done here. Why you do it, when it doesn't really change your own."

Hiro had been all about making things be as they were supposed to, though really, they'd almost destroyed that between them. Yet, nothing had changed in their future, or, without Hiro, it seemed it hadn't changed in the further future either. So he wondered, finally, whether changing history was even possible anymore. Perhaps it was all fated and the glimpses of the future that could be merely tantalizing what ifs. Except this boy came from one of those.

"This is it," he said, after he'd been quiet for a moment, gesturing to a brick walk-up, no more than four stories high. It had been renovated with the gentrification of the neighborhood, the inside all polished and clean. Adam was on the second floor, and he unlocked the door to usher Peter in. It was warm, both in temperature and color, with honey colored wood floors and cabinets, exposed brick walls here and there, earth toned furniture in the living room and a fireplace settled in the outside wall.

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“It may sound cliché, but I like it here. I know this isn’t my place and that I probably don’t belong here because this place already has a Peter Petrelli. If I ever do meet him who knows what could happen. The entire walls of reality could cave in throwing off the balance of time – or, maybe we’ll just chat and I’ll tell him how great a terrorist he is in the future.” A light shrug was given after his response, ducking in past Adam as he entered his apartment building. It looked nice – way nice than his current living establishment. “You think they’re renting?” He asked almost too softly for his own, those brown eyes lingering for only a moment before he returned his gaze to Adam for his answer.

“I would be nice living in a place that didn’t smell like garbage.” He wondered if Adam would catch on that out of all the apartment buildings in New York, he was asking if he could move in here. Whether or not that meant that he’d be closer to Adam, it just seemed to highly of a coincidence, but it seemed Peter didn’t pay no mind to it.

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Adam's eyebrow went up as he very much caught on to the implications of the soft question at least. He shut his door behind Peter, blocking out the hall, locking it with a flick of his wrist. Shrugging out of his jacket, and putting it on a hook by the door, he leaned against the wall and studied Peter for a moment. "I don't know about renting. I bought this one, and I know there's one for sale on the top floor. Another's empty on the third, but I haven't seen a sign, so it's possible the owner wants to keep it and rent it out. I can ask one of the neighbors. I haven't met most of them yet, really. Been keeping to myself."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning his second bedroom, empty except for a few bookshelves that could be moved to his own easily enough, and a futon he likely never would have a need for. He'd just met this boy, and, explaining why there was another Peter living here if and when his popped by, or Hiro or...it was complicated and deserved thinking of rather than an impulsive offer.

His eyes glanced toward the kitchen, the living room, then he nodded, inviting him in further as he moved into the tiny kitchen. "Can I get you anything? Beer? Whiskey? Water? More coffee?" Coffee, at least, he could manage to make fairly well.