A/N: Just an idea that came to mind. Something short. Hope you like it. Was a little bored when I wrote this.

Disclaimer: Own nothing

Nathan Petrelli was running for congressman and as a reporter for the New York Times, she'd been sent to cover one of his speeches. Personally she wasn't sure what she thought about him, but as for what she'd seen he seemed like a pretty decent guy. He had a younger brother and a wife and two kids. His parents were important people, people that reminded her of her grandparents.

She stood in the crowd of people listening to him speak. He started talking about his thoughts about the election and his place in it and then went into his family life. He first mentioned his father's depression and then came the big whammy, his brother's attempt at suicide. She watched as he talked about it, but turned her head when she heard the door to the place open and close. The figured that was walking away in the rain was one she knew well. She maneuvered her way out of the crowd and proceeded to follow him. He must've sensed her following him because he stopped and turned around to face her. His face was angry, but she knew it was him.

"What, you wanna ask me 'bout it. Go ahead." He snapped.

"I have nothing to ask you."

"Then why'd you follow me? I mean, reporter hears Nathan Petrelli's little brother is suicidal and then thinks why not ask questions. Why wouldn't you? Get good dirt on him." He said angrily. The rain was pouring down on both of them. His hair was flat on his face, reminding her of a sprinkler incident way back when he'd first come to town. She'd wanted to kiss him then, but something, or rather someone, had gotten in the way, her boyfriend, Dean.

"Why would I ask you about that?"

"Because that's what they're now saying, that I'm suicidal."

"Are you?"

"No! I made one little mistake and because he's running for congressman, I can't talk about it and he thinks I'm gonna blab it all over the city. What does he think I'm five? Do I look five to you?" he was still angry. She shook her head no at him, wondering what the heck he was going on about. He wasn't Petrelli's brother; he was the guy she dated in high school who had come to live with his uncle. The guy who had done all he could to be with her.

"Why did you follow me, if you aren't doing a story about how I attempted or something like that, why'd you follow me?"

"Do you really need me to answer that?"

"Yes." He said simply.

"Because I wanted to talk, catch up. Jess, last time I saw you was in Philadelphia and then I come here where I'm a writer for the New York Times and you're here, where I'm doing my first big story." She said, a little annoyed that he wouldn't know. His face had changed from being angry to being confused.

"Jess?"

"It's your name isn't it?"

"No, it's not." He said with a shake of the head.

"Then what is it?" she didn't want to play games with him.

"Peter Petrelli, Nathan's brother." He said his face void of any emotion.

"Jess, don't play games with me. I've had a long day and I should be in there listening to Nathan Petrelli's speech." She said.

"Honestly, don't know who Jess is, but I'm not him. I promise." He said.

"Whatever you say, Dodger." She said, still not fully believing him, she was starting to wonder though slightly, if he was telling the truth.

"Dodger?" his voice and face relayed confusion.

"Yeah, Dodger."

"Wasn't that some character in some book that you're supposed to read for school?" he questioned.

"You're really not Jess, your not playing some game with me." She said, realizing he wasn't joking around at all.

"Afraid not." He then spotted his brother walking towards the parking garage and his anger came back full force.

"Excuse me." He said as he left. She watched him as he walked away. He wasn't who she'd thought he was, someone she'd left several years ago, a person who had dropped all contact with her after the day at the publishing house. That part of her life was gone and she knew it. She was alone.

The End