Sorry for the long wait…this has been a weird story for me, it was kinda the hardest one for me to write ::shrugs:: Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is the last chapter, I think it's a fitting end to Ships in the Night. For a story that was meant to be a one-shot or a series of one-shots, it's certainly taken a life of its own he he he. Don't worry, I'll be back with another Heroes AU story soon, though maybe I should finish my Heroes/Gilmore Girls crossover first (having two stories going at the same time wasn't the brightest of ideas). Please enjoy!

Oh, and please excuse any typos, I'm uploading this in a rush 'cause if I don't do it now it won't happen for Lord knows how long!

Mohinder fiddled with the gift under his arm as he gazed out over the field of white chairs, searching through the crowd of suits, slick hair styles and well dressed women for any familiar faces. A half raised hand caught his attention and he followed the gesturing digits to a row close to the front of the raised platform.

"Glad you could make it," Nathan rumbled in welcome, standing to allow his friend to greet the other Petrellis seated along the row.

"Thanks for inviting me," Mohinder responded politely after accepting a dry peck on the cheek from the Petrelli matriarch and a strong handshake from Arthur. "I feel privileged to have made the cut. Heidi and the children?"

"Please, Peter wouldn't hear of graduating without you here. Everyone else is in the powder-room, where else? Monty's toilet training, the baby is dancing on Heidi's bladder and Claire had her hair done for the occasion so she feels compelled to check on her coif every few minutes."

"She's a thorough teenager now, isn't she?"

Mohinder laughed at his friend's exaggerated groan. "Hasn't she always been?"

The doctor looked away from the hard worn father to scan the crowd around them. "Will Claude be…" Nathan prevented him from completing the unwelcome comment with a significant glance punctuated by a loud clearing of his throat. 'Don't ask,' he wordlessly shared through the sharp thin line of his pursed lips. A surreptitious glance at the elder Petrellis explained the unexpected suppression. If he hadn't been aware of the tension surrounding Claude Raines in the Petrelli world he would have been concerned at the sudden painfully intense flush pervading every inch of Arthur's face, especially when paired with the engorged artery standing out the side of his tightly corded neck.

"We've still got a while before the ceremony, how abou t we go get some punch," Nathan suggested with a falsely sanguine tone, not waiting for his friend's assent before taking him by the elbow and steering him out of his seat. "Ma, pop, anything?"

"No, thank you Nathan," Angela frostily answered for herself and her unresponsive spouse.

Nathan whisked his friend away from the imposing cold front presented by the wounded pride of his father, waving away his friends apology for drawing attention to the ever present pink elephant.

"I take it issues remain unresolved between your brother and father?" Mohinder asked with the confidence of a family insider. The pair was momentarily separated as Nathan maneuvered around a group of over dressed brats taking up the majority of the aisle. Mohinder was unsure if the harried sigh his friend exhaled when the two were once again side by side was in reference to the annoying crowd or his question.

"They're both so damn stubborn," he muttered softly, hoping to keep their conversation from would-be eavesdroppers. "Resolve is not the problem. Peter is very much resolved to ignore anything pop has to say and do exactly what he wants, but that's nothing new. For his part, pop is resolved not to have anything to do with Peter if he doesn't go to school."

"And you stand where?" Mohinder asked sympathetically.

"I think they're both wrong," Nathan shook his head as they crossed the last few feet of grass between them and the well-stocked refreshment table. "It's impossible for those two to agree on anything. Pop's never known how to deal with Peter and Peter has this need to defy my father in every possible way. Peter's kind of a hopeless case, but he's not a total idiot; give him a year on his own in the real world and he'll realize that he needs a degree."

Mohinder frowned at his friend's confidant assumption. "Perhaps he would," he hesitated, ladling punch into a pompously detailed party glass while Nathan sorted through the offerings of tea cakes, pastries and impractically small sandwiches, "then again…"

Nathan's head snapped to attention as the subtle disbelief in the scientists' tone filtered through his perceptive mind. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing at all," Mohinder choked on the too sweet concoction, "it's just…maybe college really isn't the right venue for Peter's unique skill set."

"So says the geneticist," Nathan scoffed.

"Yes, school was in my path, as it was in yours and your fathers. Still, there are many successful people who never stepped foot inside a university. Who better than Peter should decide to which of the two groups he belongs?"

If the setting of their discussion had been more casual and less exposed Mohinder may have received a blunt trauma about his jaw in return for his seditious statement, but to the man's good fortune they were surrounded by exactly the class of people a vain and socially aware young man like Nathan most desired to impress. "I know what's best for my brother," he hissed, venting his indignation by repeatedly straightening his already perfectly neat tie. Mohinder, by no means a meek hearted push over, was well prepared to defend his point of view and the argument likely would have escalated if not for the interruption of a hand crashing down onto Nathan's shoulder.

"Nathan Petrelli," the balding and be-speckled man grinned, offering a limp hand to the younger man in greeting, "its been too long."

"Mr. Bishop," Nathan smiled politely in return, inwardly cringing at his misfortune in meeting the odious man, he released the sweating palm as quickly as possible, "what brings you here today?"

"Oh, Elle wanted to see her friends graduate, and since I am on the board of directors," he grinned widely, "I figured I would indulge her."

"Right," Nathan murmured uncomfortably, strained smile still firmly in place.

"She certainly will miss having Peter around school when he's gone," he continued, emphasizing Peter's name significantly. "She is so fond of the boy."

"Yes, well, she's a nice girl." The pair stared awkwardly at one another for a few long moments before the older man made his excuses and continued oiling his way through the crowd.

"Was that who I think it was?" Mohinder asked when Nathan turned back to face his forgotten friend.

"Yeah, if you thought it was Bob Bishop."

Mohinder whistled appreciatively. "Somehow I imaged one of the richest men in the world to seem less…"

"Slimy?" Nathan suggested drily. "Repulsive?"

"Something like that, yes," Mohinder chuckled. "He isn't advanced, is he?"

Nathan shook his head, "Not to my knowledge, but I've never cared to know too much about him. My father despises the man, though I think that's more of a new money/old money disparagement than anything else."

The general flow of the guests back to their seats alerted the friends that it was nearly time for the ceremony to begin. "What was he saying about Peter?" Mohinder wondered as they slowly fought through the crowd back to their seats. "Are Peter and his daughter…"

Nathan cut his friend off with a loud bark of laughter. "No, no they're not," he passed a weary hand over his eyes, "though not from lack of trying on Bishop's part. He's been trying to not so subtly encourage them towards each other for years. Like I said, even with his piles of cash, he isn't always accepted into the higher circles."

"Ah, so he wants to marry his way in," Mohinder clarified, not bothering to suppress an amused chuckle at the eccentricities of the insanely wealthy. He He continued, acknowledging Nathan's murmured confirmation. "Prosaic, but to each his own I suppose. So what's the problem? Peter doesn't like her?"

Nathan snorted unattractively at the preposterous suggestion. "Peter likes everyone. Elle just happens to be borderline psychotic. You remember when she used to shock Claire?"

"Oh…that girl? Dear me, I guess its true that money can't buy everything."

"True," Nathan laughed good-naturedly, slapping his friend on the shoulder as they both side stepped to a low a slow moving old woman through the quickly clearing aisle. "Very true. Besides, pop has made it very clear that she is…undesirable." He quirked an eyebrow at his discerning friend, making it clear that the elder Petrelli had far more virulent and vociferous comments regarding the subject. Nathan lowered his voice as the pair neared their row, "So, knowing my brother's track record when it comes to obedience, you can expect to be dancing at their wedding in a few years."

"Nathan," Mohinder pulled his friend back from entering the nearly fully occupied row. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said back there. I was out of line and it's not my place to say…"

"Don't even think about it, I know your advice comes from a good place," he smirked knowingly, "but I'm an older brother. It's my prerogative to get a little insane when it comes to my kid brother."

The pair filed into their open seats, Mohinder offering hushed greetings to the previously absent members of their party. The commencement proceedings were soon underway with all the patented dryness and empty symbolism of all its predecessors. The crowd feigned interest despite the oppressive heat, clapping politely for the key speaker though the general consensus was that he spoke far beyond his allotted 15 minutes, biting back laughter when the valedictorian stumbled on her own robe, pretending not to be relieved when the last name was (finally) called. The recent graduates swarmed into the already crowded area, receiving congratulations, flowers and balloons with all the bright eyed hope and enthusiasm of prisoners released from years of hard labor. Peter, relieved that his term of service had been officially fulfilled, rushed into his family's welcoming arms. Mohinder, being a considerate and polite young man, stepped away from the intimate scene. Feeling uncomfortable in being the only non-family member present, he began to walk away.

"Mohinder!" a voice called before the doctor had gone more than a few feet.

"Peter," Mohinder smiled when h e turned to see the excited boy forcing his way through the cramped walkway. "Congratulations, my young friend. Welcome to adulthood."

"Thanks," he laughed, waving to a friend who called to him from across the field. "I really appreciate you coming, man. And the gift. It means a lot."

"You're very welcome, Peter. I…" his encouraging speech was cut off when Angela called for her son to hurry.

Peter rolled his eyes, though his well-established grin never wavered. "Sorry man, I gotta go." The two shared a very masculine one armed hug before Peter turned to join his impatiently waiting family. A few steps away Peter turned to shout after his friend. "You're coming tonight, right?"

"I don't think…tonight?"

"Nathan was supposed to tell you. Graduation party at our place."

"Peter!" Nathan's forceful baritone interrupted. The graduate looked over his shoulder, nodding to his brother. He walked backward, still facing Mohinder, "Just come, okay. Seven o'clock."

"I'll try, but I don't want to impose."

"Impose?" Peter halted his back pedaling. "A bunch of my friends will be there, its no big deal."

Mohinder was about to tentatively accept the invitation when Nathan appeared at his brother's side. Gripping his brother's shoulder, Nathan hissed into his ear, "Seriously Pete, pop is ready to blow a gasket. Let's go."

"Nathan," Peter protested, "you forgot to tell Mohinder about tonight."

"Oh, right, sorry Mo. Anyway, you're welcome to come. Seven o'clock. We're keeping it casual, no big deal."

Mohinder smirked after his lawyer friend as he dragged his brother through the close crowd. Nathan could lay the blame for his brother's stubbornness on their father as much as he pleased, but Mohinder knew the pair too well to believe it. He walked off the field, musing on his interesting friends and looking forward to a free dinner.

As Nathan stood watching his newly matriculated younger brother laughingly interact with the guests of his low key graduation party he couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that Peter had grown so swiftly. Who was that lanky young man with the swaggering grin, flirting and talking and joking in a shockingly adult fashion? The shoulders were too broad, the echoing voice too deep to belong to Peter. Pete was a kid, scrawny and pouty; his head, topped by its always cleanly parted hair, was elbow high at best. Wasn't he? He had been last night, Nathan was sure. And yet, the melancholy elder brother rested his weight heavily against the doorframe at his side, there he stood, a man. Even while Nathan cursed the quick wings of unrelenting time for refusing to allow his pudgy baby brother reprieve from it's inevitabilities his insides ached with pride at the sight of the handsome, charismatic young man his brother was becoming. He looked down at the tasseled motor board in his hands, allowing himself a sad smile at the memory of his brother standing atop the raised dais, eagerly seeking out his brother's familiar face amidst the crowd of well-wishers.

"Nathan." He started at the sudden voice in his ear, rolling his eyes and forcing an aggravated exhalation through his nose at the unexpected sight of his little brother.

"Geeze, Peter, what do you think you're doing? Almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, Nate," the boy chuckled nervously, "I thought you heard me walk in."

Nathan gingerly laid the ceremonial hat on a nearby table before turning to face his younger brother. "I was…thinking."

" 'bout what?"

"You," Nathan jabbed playfully at Peter's shoulder, smirking when the powerful young man tumbled backward. "Trying to figure out when you started growing up."

Peter shrugged, favoring his brother with an endearing stare. "I've been doing it all along Nate. Sometimes people, we just…see what we wanna see. But don't worry," he moved to his frowning brother's side, slinging a companionable arm around his shoulders, "I'll always need my big brother to boss me around, tell me what to do. Even though I can kick your ass," he ended with a fiendish grin.

"Get the hell outta here," Nathan shoved his laughing brother from his side, muttering at the unprovoked slight to his manhood. "Go back to your party."

"Come with me," his brother asked from a safe distance. "What are you doing lurking around back here? This is my party, Nathan, I want you there. Dad may have been called to an "emergency meeting", but you're here so c'mon, man."

Nathan grimaced at the unwelcome reminder of their father's selfish adherence to not "encouraging the boy's stupidity" by opting out of the celebration. "Pete," Nathan placed a hand against his brother's chest, preventing any further advance, "you know that pop not being here…"

"Save it, Nathan," Peter replied shortly but without the sharp bite of anger behind his words. "Mom already gave me the 'He really wanted to be here" spiel and I didn't buy it the first time. If he doesn't wanna be here, I don't want him here." It was one of the few times he had ever lied to his brother. "Forget it, lets go. Hiro's been asking about you." He firmly grasped his brother's upper arm, leading him from the stark room.

"Oh, goody," Nathan drawled wearily. Nakamura's son was a good kid, but exhaustingly excitable, especially when he could embroil Nathan, the misplaced object of his childhood hero worship, in any manner of conversation.

"Aww, c'mon, he likes you."

"Yeah and he thinks just because I can fly I want to hear everything about his Merry Marching Marvelous whatever and all his other crazy comic book nonsense."

Peter sneered at his brother's crotchety statement. "Do you realize how old you sound when you say stuff like that?"

Nathan sniffed and imperially smoothed his tie against his cotton clad chest. "Old and mature are not one in the same."

Peter continued to laugh at his brother's self-imposed propriety as the pair turned a corner, meeting, as they did so, a wandering Mohinder.

"Nathan," the anxious geneticist exclaimed as he espied the approaching brothers. "I've been looking everywhere for you. We have to talk."

Nathan groaned. The last time Suresh had begun a conversation with that phrase the news hadn't been good. Nathan promised to meet his brother outside as soon as he was done and once the kid had walked out of sight, eyeing the pair suspiciously until the last second, he ushered Mohinder into the room he had recently vacated. "So…" he prompted.

"I just had a very interesting conversation with Isaac Mendez," Suresh responded quietly, nervously pulling at his bottom lip.

"Who's Isaac Mendez?" Concise and direct, as always.

"A friend of Peter, I think he was two years ahead of him at the Academy, who also just happens to be one of my more interesting cases." He forced his plucking hand away from his abused lip, annoyed that he had allowed himself to fall into the habit that had plagued him from childhood. He took to pacing instead. "He's a precognitive artist, paints the future. He's quite unique and highly gifted in both respects."

Nathan strained in concentration, tenting his fingers as he filtered through his memories of Peter's many and varied friends. "Quiet kid? Scraggly hair, always looked kinda strung out?"

"That's an apt description," Mohinder confirmed sardonically, rotating his shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the tension spreading through his body. "He had some startling news. According to him a couple of government agents appeared at his doorstep yesterday demanding samples of his work."

"What?" Nathan felt his stomach churn unpleasantly, forcing himself from his position against the wall to storm across the room. Acid burned throughout his muscles, compelling him to move. Bile burned the back of his throat. He needed a drink. "They can't do that, he didn't give them anything did he?"

"What choice did he have, Nathan?" Mohinder cried defensively. "They had warrants, badges and the backing of the United States government. And what's more," he stalked over to the corner where Nathan had propped himself to hiss in Nathan's ear, "I've just had word from a colleague in the mid-west. One of his patients, a man with a volatile ability, had completely disappeared. For three years he had been going to this doctor's office for weekly abilities monitoring, never once missing a single appointment, and then…gone. No word, no warning, no explanation. The only clue to his whereabouts comes from a neighbor who saw two strangers in suits at his house the day before he went missing."

"Are you suggesting.."

"Yes, I am."

"Why haven't I heard of this before?"

"There is no before, Nathan, this is happening now. Why bother with registration when they can comb through medical records for their targets? The beauty of their underhandedness is that so few even notice what's happening. No outrages or public demonstrations." He took a deep, refreshing breath before meeting the older man directly in his eyes. "We can't wait any longer, Nathan. For the safety of your family, of these people, of this nation, we must act."

Nathan couldn't help but admire the passionate set of his friend's chin, his hands curled tightly at his sides. This man believed in him, in his strength, in his capability, in his leadership. He moved passed the stalwart figure to look out the window he had been utilizing earlier; so many people with no idea that their freedoms hung in such precarious danger of being lost forever. Strangers, acquaintances, friends, his family. How many AP's would have to become silent and un-mourned victims of a devious plot before the world awoke to the reality of their loss? Injustice anywhere is a danger to freedom everywhere. "You're right," he spoke without turning to look at his hopeful friend. "You've been right all along, though I couldn't be bothered to recognize it. We need someone on the inside." He turned, meeting Mohinder's growing and genuine smile with an even look. "I'll do it. I'll run for congress and do my damndest to get elected." He left his friend to gaze back out the window at his brother as Peter willingly enveloped their mother in a loving embrace. "I just pray it isn't too late."

I think that's a good place to stop. Started with Mohinder trying to convince Nathan to take action and here he accomplishes his goal. I like it. Thanks for reading, please review!