Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
Angela Bromstad (AN: If you go to HeroesWiki and look on the Minor Characters for season 1 she's a real character and exists as the Odessa TV reporter) briskly brushed her smooth hair from her eyes and noisily scraped her heels up the staircase to the elaborately extensive grounds and house of Nathan Petrelli. There were meticulously neat and shining flamingos in the garden instead of the farmhouse color-faded gnome, the garden was blooming and well groomed and the bushes were all cultivated to straight edges. Despite the fact that Angela had on a professional and therefore very uncomfortable suit on as attire, she felt out of place at the Petrelli Mansion. Warily approaching the grand oak door, she tentatively knocked at the door and attempted to peer inside the small frosted window in the middle of the door.
She had been sent by her company to interview Nathan Petrelli, re-elected to Congress after being knocked off his post and surviving a lethal injury to inquire about the incident of his hospital visit and his failure to remain in his job almost a year ago.
But she was nervous. Angela had interviewed more than a hundred and fifty clients and celebrities but yet, she felt almost inferior to Nathan after what he had achieved. Celebrities and movie icons were only notorious for pretending to be someone they weren't on screen, cooking show hosts were only famous if you counted their talent to chop onions in less than ten seconds, and every other insignificant person she interviewed had done something that was less than report-worthy. But Nathan Petrelli had done something fascinating and had not only wowed New York but also the country. He was someone who should be acknowledged.
Angela gave a calm and collected sigh, preparing her subtle smile for when she would be greeted and welcomed from the threshold.
A moment later, Nathan Petrelli opened the door, his figure stiff and proper. He gave a friendly smile, flashing a set of dangerously white teeth to the interviewer as he removed his hand from his suit pocket to shake the woman's petite hand. Angela immediately noticed his rigid nature; the drawn back hair, the forced grin, the sleek shoes and the patriotic tie.
It did nothing to improve her anxiety.
"Hello, Mr. Petrelli, my name's Angela Bromstad. I was sent from Channel Five News. I talked to you on the phone about your interview?"
Nathan smiled, "Of course, I've been expecting you. Come in, please. The patio is set up for brunch."
The man stuffed his hands back into his pockets before he led Angela to the brightly lit and sun enhanced porch. A pleasant view of a small, shimmering pond and poorly constructed swing set was in sight not too far away from the wooden patio table and matching chairs. Carefully, the reporter took her seat and drew out a pen from her pocket, not taking interest in the delicate china prepared in front of her. Flowery teacups and bread-adorned plates stared up at her imploringly.
"Sugar?" Nathan offered, holding out a bowl. Angela politely declined, swirling her spoon around her tea before taking a reluctant sip. She stared down at her blank notepad.
"So, Mr. Petrelli. I'm here to ask you about your life in the past year. I myself have heard that it's been quite a struggle for you and your family and now that you've gotten back to Congress and back to health, Channel Five has been very interested in hearing about your accomplishments."
"Naturally," Nathan nodded along stiffly, unfazed by Angela's introduction. He clearly was not a stranger to the interviewing business.
"First of all, let me ask about you losing your position as a Congressman almost a year ago?"
Nathan chuckled quietly to his plate. "It was a rough time for me. I had recently lost my brother in what I thought was a plane explosion and was unaware if he was alive or not. I hadn't heard from him in a while and presumed his dead, which I took worst out of my entire family. I simply wasn't ready for such a big job at the point."
"I see. A plane explosion. Is your brother all right?"
A smile flicker of a smile, discreet and subtle but still blatant enough for Angela to detect, flashed on the politician's face, "Yes, he's fine. He returned with a flight home a few months ago when I was in Texas."
"So were you fired from your job or did you leave it?"
"A little bit of both, Miss Bromstad," Nathan admitted, snacking on the crisp piece of salad on his plate; a little bit too green in Angela's eyes, "They may have fired me. I'm not exactly sure. I just stopped coming to work."
Angela suppressed a laugh of a nervous chuckle. She scribbled on her pad.
"Now the day that you and your brother were reunited, wasn't that the same day you injured yourself?" the black-haired woman questioned curiously, sipping hastily at her lukewarm tea again.
Nathan raked a hand through his hair, mussing (AN: No, this is not a typo, I wasn't going for 'messing') it up a little. "I would hardly say that I did that to myself," he said dryly, "I was shot. But my brother helped me get through it. Donated some blood." Nathan said shortly, nodding.
"Care to elaborate on that?" Angela prodded.
Nathan played with the hem of his hairline. "No," he finalized, licking his teaspoon.
"All right then," the reporter dismissed awkwardly, noting more things on her notepad, "And how's your wife doing? Your children? How do you feel about them?" she pressed.
The older man had memories running fondly through his eyes as he recollected reminiscences of his playful sons. "I love my children. Monty and Simon are going to be neck-to-neck politicians running for president one day. They'll be just like their father."
"And what about their mother?"
Nathan's careless, more lighthearted side decreased as fast as an arrow to a floor. He stiffened considerably, "Heidi and I… we've drifted apart. She's here because we both care for the children. I used to tell reporters that we were happily married, but my brother convinced me that it was useless trying to be the perfect family man just to boost my Congress votes. So I'll be honest, Heidi and I would part ways if it wouldn't be for the boys. She was originally dependent on me because she had her accident, but that – well, that healed. She doesn't need me anymore."
Angela tensed at the uneasiness at the situation and hurriedly changed the subject, "Okay, then let's talk about your brother. How do you feel about your brother?"
Once again, almost as if a gust of wind had momentarily blown happiness and joy over Nathan's weathered face, he beamed quietly at the tablecloth. He tenderly traced nonexistent patterns with his fingertip on the table as he sighed breathily.
"Peter is the one part of my life that can still talk sense into me. Without him–"
The sentimental speech and interview was abruptly interrupted as the porch door opened and a slightly younger man, still somewhat strangely similar in features, stepped onto the patio and gave a smile to the back of Nathan's head. He had the same thick black hair except for that this man's was longer and falling gracefully into his face, the same warm brown eyes, and the same facial structures.
"Nathan! You didn't tell me you had company." The man said, waltzing over to the table to join the brunch. He enthusiastically reached over the sugar bowl to shake hands with Angela before he gave Nathan a friendly smile. Somewhat surprised, Angela watched as the politician gave the first genuine grin he had given throughout the duration of the interview to the younger man. Angela wondered for a moment if this man was perhaps a cousin, friend, or maybe even lover.
"I – is this a friend of yours?"
"This is my brother, Peter."
Shocked, the interviewer examined Peter more thoroughly this time, seeing the resemblance between the two men more prominent than ever now.
"Hello, Peter! I'm Angela Bromstad, I'm interviewing your brother for Channel Five News."
Winking blatantly across the table, Peter laughed good-heartedly, "I'm just here to give Nathan hints on the interview. Ignore me!"
Nathan laughed along with the joke, his eyes fixated on his brother. Angela uneasily hoped that the older man was still aware of her presence at the table, for he had become immensely engrossed in Peter's sudden appearance.
But what surprised Angela the most was that Nathan's face lit up with the same child-like glow that he possessed when he had been praising his brother to Angela just a few moments ago. It was as though his joy and genuine warmth came from his brother's optimism, almost as if Peter evened his brother out to a playful personality.
Uneasily clearing her throat, Angela clicked her pen loudly and smiled across the table to make the men aware of her presence. Abruptly their heads turned to face her.
"I'm sorry, I interrupted! What were you both talking about?"
Nathan smiled over at Peter, "You, actually. Want to listen in?"
"You bet I do. Make sure you don't say anything nasty about me."
Angela awkwardly analyzed, "Mr. Petrelli, frankly I don't believe that your brother is capable of speaking ill of you. He's done nothing but rave about your helpfulness during his entire interview."
Nathan flushed, looking tenderly over to his brother.
"Well, why don't I continue?" he said, looking over to the interviewer. Angela felt a rustling across the table around the tablecloth and suspiciously wondered if the two men had linked hands underneath the table. Somewhere through her mind her previous thought of the two of them being lovers and partners flitted through her mind again. Maybe she hadn't been wrong before.
No, she thought firmly, they're brothers.
But she could not shake off the feeling that Nathan and Peter were staring more than just brotherly affection across the table with their gazes. They were brothers. But they were probably also lovers. A little bit of both.
"Please, go ahead, Mr. Petrelli," she said hastily, trying to divert her attention away from the siblings and to her notepad. She clicked her pen just to have something to do with her hands.
"Yes," Nathan continued, "I have to say. Peter is the one person who can brighten my day and make me smile. He's the best little brother anybody can ask for."
Angela watched as Peter and Nathan gave each other discreet looks fondly. There was more rustling underneath the table.
Being a reporter and becoming a reporter and growing up wanting to know every little detail led Angela to be very nosy. She was taught from the first day she told her parents that she wanted to be an interviewer for television that she needed to know everything and prod and pry at the personals. And this wasn't just so Angela could throw in some juicy gossip into the article. She truly desired to know if the two men in front of her were what they seemed to be.
She smiled at Nathan, flashing her teeth, before she inconspicuously dropped her pen. It fell to the floorboards with a clank. Giving an apologetic grin to the men, she dropped to the floor and let her gaze wander straight to the pair in front of her.
A subtle beam shone on her face as Angela saw Peter's hand interlaced tightly with his brother's just underneath the lace tablecloth, Nathan gently stroking at the spot right over Peter's thumb. Not only were the fingers entwined, but Angela also noticed with a smirk that their feet were resting innocently on top of each other's, nudging the other's tenderly in an unobtrusive game of footsie.
Angela groped for her pen before she kneeled back up to her chair again.
She marked something on her clipboard.
It wasn't for press. Nathan and Peter didn't bother to share, so Angela wouldn't bother to share it with the public either. It was only a mental sidenote, an afterthought to dwell on. It wasn't that Angela found it wrong. She actually found it surprisingly sweet and understandable.
"So, I hope you don't mind when I ask, are you involved with anyone right now, Mr. Petrelli?" Angela hinted in casually, leaning back in her patio chair.
Nathan smirked, stealing a small glance from Peter in a second's time before he focused his attention back on the reporter.
"I am, Miss Bromstad," he said, "very much so, in fact."
"May I ask who this lucky person is?"
Nathan grew smugger still, grinning at the tablecloth as though it knew more than Angela did. When they met eyes, Angela watched as a secret, almost suspicious smile flickered from Nathan's brown eyes to her own.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, "I can't share that yet, I don't think my partner would appreciate their revealing to the public. But I can say that I am very much in love. They are the one person who would risk everything for me, and has. The understanding between us is unbreakable. I… I love them."
Nathan was no longer speaking to Angela, he was mumbling out his thoughts distractedly, a somewhat far-off and dreamy expression on his face as he stared at the sky. Peter shook him back to reality, smiling his crooked lips into a grin.
"I've never seen my brother happier before." Peter added in.
The dark-haired woman realized that the two brothers were sharing a small moment in between them, so she stood up from her spot at the patio and tucked her notepad underneath her arm. She clicked her pen to close.
"Thank you very much for talking with me, Mr. Petrelli. America could not have chosen a better Congressman, in my opinion. And he couldn't have a friendlier brother." She politely shook hands with both men, courteously smiling at them as a goodbye. Both brothers walked her to the door, and when the oak had shut behind her, Angela smiled to herself.
As she walked down the driveway, she swiveled around to stare inside the living room window. She smiled softly as she saw Nathan staring out to the street, Peter's arms wrapped around his waist from behind and his chin resting peacefully on his brother's shoulder. She knew she shouldn't be watching such a private and personal moment, especially since the two hadn't even shared their relationship with the reporter in the first place, but it was in Angela's instinct and natural doing as a worker for Channel Five.
She inched her way back up the driveway, attempting to spy on the two men. The moment Nathan felt Peter's fingers on his stomach he turned around, grinning, before their lips captured the other's in a gentle kiss. It wasn't inappropriate or over-the-top, it was a kiss of love and understanding. Angela smiled.
She had seen enough.
Making her way back to her car, she took one last glance to the embracing brothers behind the window before she drove away.
A month later Angela was delivered a new copy of the Channel Five Magazine, the title of her article; Nathan Petrelli – a congressman and a family man – adorning the front in bold letters. She smiled as she leafed through it, searching furiously for her interview.
Finally she found it, red, blue, and white decorating the borders. In the middle of the page was a photo snapped of Peter and Nathan at the brunch table, Nathan's arm loosely draped over his brother's and Peter's hand looped securely around the politician's waist. They were both smiling toothily.
Angela realized that this picture did not do justice to the relationship the Petrelli brothers shared. It didn't show how closely understanding they were of each other and how they stole discreet glances of each other out of the corner of their eyes every few moments.
Angela took the copy in her hands, dog-earing the page and uncapping a pen. She autographed the picture, writing beneath it in bold, loopy letters:
Best of luck to you and your brother, Nathan.
She furled up the magazine before carefully sliding it into an envelope and addressing the Petrelli Mansion on the front.
She knew that Nathan and his brother would want to read it. They were brothers and lovers, and maybe a little bit of both.
And besides, he needed to remember who Angela was when in a year or two she could be the reporter lucky enough to interview Nathan and Peter on their marriage.
AN: Can't wait for third season. I loved the second season. And for those of you who hate spoilers, look away: Nathan LIVES. :D I can already smell the Petrellicest ;P