Characters/Pairing: Nathan, Angela
Disclaimer: I don't own them. It's just for fun.
Summary: Oneshot: Nostalgic kid!Nathan piece.
“And we want to use the sage table linens tomorrow night. Arthur likes the sage for business.” Angela looked away from the staff as her son barreled down the lower half of the stairs and around the corner into the drawing room. “Nathan Petrelli, what have I told you about running through the house?” But then the little boy stopped short and looked up to her with tear stained eyes and cheeks. She knew that this new talent of his to cry without a sound should bother her, but that was beside the point. “Whatever is wrong with you?”
“M-my room. They’re taking things.” Tiny hands wiped at his cheeks, swiping away the damp left by tears that he didn’t want his mother to see.
Angela tilted her head to the side, clearly annoyed by the display as she turned back to the staff. “You’re dismissed. If you have any questions about the gathering tomorrow night you may come speak with me.”
The house staff filed out of the room, some of them casting a sympathetic glance to Nathan as he circled his arms around his stomach. Once they were alone he looked up to his Mother. “They’re taking things.”
“I know. I told them to, Nathan. We do this every year. We go through and clean out the unnecessary in every room in the house.” Angela reminded him, one hand smoothing the fabric of her dress over her pregnant, swollen stomach. “And stand up straight, what have I told you about your posture? This is nothing to cry over, Nathan.”
Instantly Nathan unwound himself, standing up right, hands at his sides, chin lifted and shoulders back. “But I didn’t keep very much this time.” It was something he had done deliberately this year since the last time his mother’s cleaning staff had swept through his things. Each time something new had either been given to him or had been brought home from school down to the smallest and most insignificant he had questioned its value before making a decision on whether to keep it or not. It had become a conscious effort so that he could keep what he really wanted to keep this time. “I promise, it’s not very much.”
“Nathan, I don’t have time for this. We have some of your fathers’ clients coming for dinner tomorrow night and you… you need to go find something productive to do.” Angela answered. “This happens every year. We’re not changing it now.”
Nathan watched his mother leave the room and sat down on the floor. He remained there, waiting until he saw the staff descending the stairs with three boxes and a bag of trash. One of the boxes he could tell was entirely filled with old clothes. The other two forced him to his feet. He ran up the stairs again and through the hallways to his room where he opened the top drawer in the nightstand. His drawings from school were gone, probably meeting the fate of the trash bag.
He felt his lower lip tremble and rolled his eyes at himself for the visible sign of emotion that he wouldn’t let happen again. For a few moments he simply stared at his bed, his stomach flip-flopping inside of him. When he finally worked up the nerve, he crawled beneath the bed surprised to still find the bag of jacks and a single green army man that one of the kids at school had let him have. They were shoved back into the far corner exactly where he had hidden them.
He didn’t touch them, not right now. He left them exactly where they were unnoticed by everyone but him. It was inevitable that they would eventually someday be found. Nothing was ever really completely his. But right now, he had to go find something more productive to do than worry over whether he was allowed to keep the unnecessary.