In New York, Nathan was on the phone. "Hello, officer, this is Nathan Petrelli. What? Oh, yes, I appreciate your support. I need to talk to your chief." Nathan waited for a few minutes while the policeman got the chief.

"Nathan!" the man said, "Good to hear from you. How're you doing?"

"I need another favor," Nathan replied bluntly.

"I don't know, Nathan. I've been doing you a lot of favors lately."

"How much?" Nathan asked.

"Two thousand."

"Done."

"How can I help you?"

"I need to find Peter, and I need background checks on the guys that he's traveling with."

"Well, I'll run the GPS on his phone. What are his companions' names?"

"Winchester. Dean and Sam Winchester."

There was a pause while the officer entered information on to the computer. Then he replied to Nathan. "Mr. Petrelli? I have good news and bad news. Unfortunately, it looks like your brother may be in danger. These Winchester boys are known criminals. There are multiple arrest warrants in their names for everything from fraud to murder." Nathan got worried. "On the bright side," the officer continued, "I was able to track Peter's phone. Yale University." Nathan dropped the phone onto its cradle and took off for the parking garage.

At the university, Dean and Sam were shopping in the trunk of the Impala. They brought rock salt, shotguns, and holy water to Peter, who was waiting on the roof of the haunted building. Dean offered him a gun. "You know how to handle this?"

"We're thinking the spirit is trying to tell something, since she's not hurting anyone," Sam explained, "but things could still get out of hand, so we need the guns just in case."

"In case we have to smoke the son of a bitch," Dean clarified.

"The spirit's a girl," Sam said.

"Whatever."

Peter took the gun and placed it on the ground next to him. Sam dumped salt around the perimeter of the roof.

"What's that for?" Peter asked.

"Ghosts are repelled by it. According to the article, the girl comes up those stairs and falls off the roof, but if the salt's there, once she's up, she's stuck, so we might be able to find out some information," Sam explained. Peter nodded.

As darkness fell, Peter, Dean, and Sam took positions around the roof. Dean faced the door with one shotgun, while Peter was off to the side with the other. Sam held the salt and a bottle of holy water near the edge of the roof.

They stayed there, silently, until the sky was black. Peter amused himself by testing out some of his powers. It made him a bit nervous, but Claude had told him to practice control constantly. Thinking about Claude, Peter flickered back and forth between invisible and not for a few minutes. Then he remembered Matt, the policeman he was questioned by after he went to Texas to save Claire. The mind reading policeman. Peter tried to concentrate on his powers, and listened to the Winchesters. Dean was remembering a girl he met in a nearby town. Sam was thinking about The List. He was worried. Something about demons. Peter felt bad for the kid. He could relate to Sam, and Dean reminded him of his own brother, trying to protect his younger sibling but not really doing any good. It wasn't Dean's or Nathan's fault, wanting to be the good big brother, but Peter (and by the thoughts he was hearing, Sam agreed) resented the fact that he was not trusted to take care of himself.

There was a noise in the stairwell. Peter turned to Dean and mouthed, "Is that it?" Then there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being readied for firing, and Dean shook his head, preparing his own weapon.

The door burst open. The figure in the doorway quickly took aim at Dean and pulled the trigger. The bullet nicked his stomach, and Dean fired back as he doubled over. This threw the shooter backwards with a shot of rock salt to the chest.

As the man fell, Peter heard him think, "I hope Peter's alright."

"Nathan?" Peter yelled, running towards him.

"Don't worry," Dean said, clutching his side. "Unless your brother is actually a vengeful spirit, he won't get much more than a nasty bruise. Son of a bitch should be glad it wasn't me using the real bullets; I've got much better aim."

"Dean," Sam said. "Shut up and fix yourself up." Dean turned his attention to his wound. Peter saw that Dean was right; Nathan was already beginning to stand back up. He raised his gun again.

"Nathan," Peter yelled, "what are you doing?"

"Do you know who these people are? They're criminals! Murderers and liars."

"They're not," Peter said quietly.

"You trust these strangers over your own brother?" Nathan pointed the gun at Sam and began to fire. Peter yelled and thought about the man with the sword whom he had met on the bus when time had stopped. The bullet ceased to move. Peter walked over and pushed it to the ground. Then he remembered Hiro again and restarted time. He walked to Nathan and took his gun.

There were more footsteps on the stairs. "What's going on up here?" a female voice said. Rory walked onto the roof. She looked at Dean who was still bleeding, and her eyes widened a little. Then she saw Peter and her eyes grew wider still. "Well," she said, gesturing towards Sam, "he's not Dean, and I suppose you're not Jess, but you look like him."

"Well, I'm not. I'm Peter. And this is Nathan."

"Hey," Dean said. "Move away from that door a little, would you? We don't want you getting a load of ghost running through you."

"I'm going crazy," Rory said, unsure whether to laugh or cry. "Either that, or all my old boyfriends have cloned themselves, and then they went crazy. First there was Sal"

"Sam," Sam said. "My name's actually Sam. And my brother's Dean."

"Sam," Rory continued. "And now Peter. But I could swear you're Dean and Jess. But I know that's crazy. So maybe I'm crazy." She sat down in confusion.

"I don't know anything about Deans and Jesses, but you're not crazy, and we're here to help," Sam replied. Suddenly, the air turned cold. "Shh," he said, grasping the holy water. "Here she comes…"