This is a pseduo-sequel to "Trust Me, I've Tried", essentially taking that short story and expanding on it (and elaborating as it were). I recommend reading that before reading this!

Warning: Contains major character deaths, weird lore, and sometimes really bad jokes.

Chapter Four

It had been five years since Pickles had died.

Five years of leading the battle of the resistance, of the Black Klok army, and while their numbers grew, it didn't seem to matter. For ever one person they added to the army, another six fell. It had been five long years.

Five years of suffering through war after war, loss after loss. Though of course they did have their wins now and then. Nathan took to keeping tally of the wins and even the losses. Charles frowned against it, but Nathan said it would just give him something to look forward to. Something to, "you know, write down. Because I don't write anything anymore."

Charles understood that. Mostly because there were a lot of things that Charles didn't do anymore either.

Like sleep. Sleep was a big one, he hadn't slept in fifteen years. He hadn't slept since the dethlights hit them all, he hadn't slept since the war started.

He also hadn't aged in fifteen years. That was the weirdest part, but he stopped caring about what all of this meant for him and only focused on what it meant for the war. Charles was more powerful. He had honed his abilities and learned to control them; he was a master of his own art now.

Nathan had become a master as well. He was a world-class sniper, if that sort of distinction even existed anymore, but he was just as good in up-close range combat as he was shooting someone through the eyeball 200 yards away. Nathan had aged, but age looked good on him. His hair was shorter now, gray at the temples, hair usually pulled back with whatever he could find at the time. At the moment, it was pulled back into a makeshift ponytail with a piece of string he found tied around a corpse.

That was the thing about the world now, they had to make do with what they had. So if that meant they had to cut down the bodies of people the Half-Man's army had strung up in the trees to find rope for holding things together, so be it. Those people were dead and there was nothing they could do for them now.

Nathan and Charles ruled the Black Klok army with iron fists. They were feared and respected, and people would die for their cause. Because their cause was one that affected the world - they had to take back their lives. They had to take back what was theirs.

Of course, people would do anything for Dethklok before, and even though there was only one member of the band left alive, they would still do anything for them.

One night, in an odd honest moment between the two men, Nathan admitted something. They had taken up camp in an abandoned hotel, half of it blown off. Charles had managed to do a protection barrier around the hotel for the night - how Charles could do that now, Nathan had no idea, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask. He learned never to ask.

The two men sat side by side on one of the remaining balconies, their legs hanging off the edge of it. "I don't think I can keep this going," Nathan admitted, staring out at the deserted parking lot below the half-standing hotel, where their troops had set up camp. "Do these people even know what the fuck we're trying to do anymore?"

"I'm sure they do, Nathan. I don't think people would follow us blindly -"

"That's what they've always fucking done, Charles!" Nathan turned to look at Charles, Charles who hadn't aged a day, Charles who looked the same as he always had. Charles with the same look of calm certainty that Nathan was growing to despise. "How can you fucking say shit like that, when thousands have died? When the rest of the guys all died?"

Charles' eyes narrowed, as he looked away from Nathan and to their troops below. "Because if we don't still believe we have a fighting chance, then we've already lost."

"You honestly think we still have a chance?"

There was a brief hesitation before Charles replied, "Yes."

Silence fell between the two men. Below, troops were talking out battle plans, and practicing shooting, killing the half dead animals that wandered the woods around them.

"I think you're a fucking dick sometimes, you know that?" Nathan hissed, and Charles stayed silent. "I don't get how even now you're still just as fucking cold and calculated as you have always been. Where is your fucking humanity?"

The moment Nathan had asked that, he immediately regretted it. He could suddenly feel it getting very warm where he was, and he looked over to see Charles' eyes glowing red.

"You know damn right well where my fucking humanity is," Charles spoke, a deeper tone underlining his normal voice, sounding almost demon-esque. Charles only spoke like this in battle, when he was using all his anger against the enemy. He had only done it once with Nathan before and immediately apologized after.

Nathan wasn't so sure that was going to happen this time.

"All I have left is this war. There is nothing else." Charles growled, looking away from Nathan and staring out into the night, not focusing on anything.

Hesitant, Nathan placed a hand on Charles' shoulder. He stayed silent as he watched Charles, his eyes slowly fading from bright deep red, to a glowing white, before they returned to his normal eyes. If anything about Charles was normal anymore.

Charles cleared his throat, but didn't look at Nathan when he spoke, "You know better than to bring that up, Nate."

"I know."

"So, why did you?"

Nathan shifted, taking his hand off Charles' shoulder and stood up behind him, stretching out his back before he spoke. "Sometimes I just need to check to see if the guy I knew is still in there." Nathan stared at Charles' back before he walked back into the ruined hotel, leaving Charles on the balcony alone.

Fifteen minutes passed before Nathan went back out on the balcony to check on Charles, but instead saw him down below talking to the troops. Nathan didn't question how Charles got down twenty floors so fast, but he knew better than to ask questions now.

It was better than knowing the truth.

Pickles had found it hard to believe that only five hours had passed since he was back in Mordhaus, but he seemed to understand the situation better than the rest of the guys. Once again they were all gathered in the conference room, watching the screen play out what was happening back on Earth.

More of Mordhaus had opened up to them, familiar rooms all branching off one long hallway, but despite the new freedom of moving to other rooms, they all stayed in the conference room.

Watching.

Waiting.

"Has its really beens fifteen years?" Toki asked quietly, as they watched Nathan and Charles prepare for their battle that morning, with Nathan giving one of his speeches to the troops.

"You know, he's gotten pretty good at that shit! Look at him!" Pickles laughed, actually smiling as Nathan talked about giving up their lives for the Klok and killing anyone that crossed their paths.

Toki, annoyed that he was ignored, repeated himself, but louder. "Pickle!" He finally said, as William and Skwisgaar stayed silent and watched the conversation, "How can yous be so calm?"

Pickles looked over to Toki, as he leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hands held together in one giant fist. "Because I read the prophecy, dude. I know what happens."

The collective what? that came from the other three caused Pickles to laugh, as he leaned back in his chair and shifted to put his feet up on the table in front of them. "Yeah, dudes, listen. I figured it out, the day before I died. I tried to tell Charles, but he wasn't listenin' to me. I wrote some of it down in Nathan's notebook, but he never said anything to Charles. See?" Pickles pointed to the screen, which now showed Nathan looking through the notebook, and Pickles familiar handwriting was shown. Nathan closed the notebook and tucked it into his jacket, before putting a bullet proof vest over it.

William groaned, "If Nathan knows, why isn't he fucking doing anything about it? What the fuck! Why is everyone so fucking stupid? God fucking dammit!"

"Easy for yous to say, mister I died befores the rests of us." Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. He looked over to Toki next to him, who just sighed.

"I'm telling you, dudes, listen to me!" Pickles spoke up again, "There's a big reason why Nathan won't say anything to Charles. It's because for us to win-"

"-Nathan will have to die." The voice came from the back of the conference room, and the guys turned around to see Ishnifus sitting at the end of the table. It didn't shock them though, the old man came and went as he pleased. It had been hours now, years on Earth, and the rest of Dethklok were used to it by now. "I believe that Nathan is holding it back, because he thinks he is the last link to humanity that Charles has left."

Pickles nodded, as he looked back to the screen. "Yeah, see? Nate dies...and the chief won't be the chief anymore. He'll…"

Pickles trailed off as the five men in the room all looked at the screen, where Charles and Nathan, and their best troops, were fighting a battle.

"You, get to my left!" Nathan shouted, pointing at one of his men, and pointed at another, "You to my right! Go!"

The three men charged forward, guns blazing as they took down the men that fought them. One after another came charging at them and shooting, and they fought back with as much honor as they could. Nathan got a few headshots in, and the men he was with, well they took down more than a few people themselves.

Charles was out front in the distance, as always acting alone, taking out more of the Half-Man's top men, using whatever powers he had now. Nathan didn't ask. He didn't want to ask.

To be honest, Charles was starting to scare him. Charles was more brutal than he was before, and Nathan wasn't sure it was a good thing, not the good brutal Nathan was used to.

Distracted for a moment, Nathan was taken off guard as someone punched him. He retaliated quickly by shooting the man in the heart, and took out the others coming towards them. One of Nathan's men took out a grenade and threw it towards the small army of people running towards them.

In the distance, Nathan could make out Charles slicing people with a sword - he had taken up using swords now, in honor of Pickles, though he still always had his pistols with him just in case. Charles took out men, and when he saw people trying to escape, he had ran towards them at lightening speed and cut off their heads. Their blood splashed over Charles' face, but he didn't seem to bat an eye at it. His eyes were glowing red.

Nathan couldn't focus on the uneasiness of the sight, as he quickly ducked another punch and a sword coming at him, the two men that were with him suddenly taken down. Actually, all of the people from the Black Klok army that were around Nathan were dying without anything touching them, and those that weren't dying were retreating.

Something wasn't right.

"You are mine now," A voice called out and Nathan looked behind him to see the Half-Man standing in his bone armor, reaching out towards Nathan. the Half-Man twisted his hand in the air, and suddenly Nathan fell to the ground, clutching his heart. He screamed out in agony. He couldn't go out this way. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

"How dare you even try," a familiar demon-esque voice boomed behind Nathan, and he didn't have to look behind him - if he even could right now - to know who or what it was.

"Do you really think you can defeat me, Charles? Just because I cannot see you doesn't mean I can't tell you're there. Your power is giving you away." The Half-Man laughed, and Nathan screamed as the pain moved from his chest to his right eye. He could still see slightly, but not much, as the Half-Man was hit with a burst of white, and he took a step back, but Nathan still called out in pain. The Half-Man laughed again, and Nathan could feel heat radiating behind him.

"Torturing him is too much fun for me, Charles, I can feel what it's doing to you!" the Half-Man taunted, as he kept deflecting Charles' shots of power, whatever it was. Nathan couldn't see anything. Oh god, he couldn't see anything. "Do you understand the pleasure each of their deaths gave me? They were just so easy, do you really think I won't just destroy the rest of your army?"

Nathan felt the heat move suddenly from his back to in front of him, but it wasn't fast enough. He screamed out in pain, as he felt the blood pour out from what was his right eye. The hold Selacia had on him released and Nathan fell to the dirt, screaming and convulsing, losing blood. His left eye managed to stay open, managed to give him the sight of Charles some how floating above the ground, radiating nothing but deep red, electric shocks dancing on Charles' skin.

The last thing Nathan heard was Charles' booming voice telling the Half-Man that he would find a way to kill him, as the Half-Man laughed.

Then everything went black.

It's not your time. Go back.

What? What do you-

Go back. You need to tell him.

Yeah, dude, go back!

Pickles, is that you-

Nathan woke up screaming. He couldn't see anything, his heart was beating way too fast. He couldn't see anything.

"You're okay! You're okay!" He heard a voice say, and Nathan realized he had actually been screaming out loud that he couldn't see. "Hold still, let me help you." The voice was familiar. Female. He felt the fabric move away from his left eye and while it took a moment to focus, when he did, he struggled to sit up.

"Abigail?"

"Shush, calm down, will you? Jesus, he'll kill me if he knows you woke up like this!" Abigail actually laughed, and Nathan felt nothing but confused.

"Where am I?"

"You're underground, in one of the headquarters. Do you remember the Church you were brought to all those years ago? You're there." Abigail spoke, as she took a wet cloth to Nathan's forehead, cooling him down. "You're safe for now."

Nathan moved to sit up, while Abigail tried to hold him back, but he swatted her arm away, sitting up fully. Now that his left eye was focusing enough, he slowly looked around. The walls were like the inside of a mountain. The furniture was relatively modern, but old. The bed was a king sized, deep red sheets, dark wood frame. Next to the bed was a set of glasses and a tie.

He hadn't seen that tie in years.

"How did I get here? How long have I been out?"

"A week. Don't ask how you got here, because I honestly don't know." Abigail sighed, as she moved from the wooden chair she had been sitting on next to the bed, to sit on the bed itself next to Nathan's legs. "You lost your right eye. We had to sew you up, and you lost a lot of blood. You're lucky Charles managed to recruit the best doctors to work for our cause, or you would have died."

Nathan muttered something under his breath, but Abigail didn't hear it. Or if she did, she pretended that she didn't. She sighed softly, "You're really lucky to be alive, Nathan. I thought we lost you for a bit there."

"Yeah, well, looks like I'm still here."

"You sound disappointed."

"Yeah, I...well…" Nathan raised his hand to brush over the fabric on his right eye. "Give me a mirror."

Abigail bit her lip, "Nathan, I really don't think that's a good-"

"Abigail. Please."

Abigail sighed, pressing her lips together tightly before she nodded and stood up from the side of the bed, and disappeared out of Nathan's line of sight. She came back, making noise so he heard her from his right side, and she removed the fabric that rested on his right eye. "Here," She held out a hand mirror, face down, to his left hand.

Surprisingly, there was no hesitation as he lifted the hand mirror and looked to see his eye was sewn shut, swollen, and while it was mostly cleaned up, there was still some dried blood. There was bruises around that side of his face. He reached up and touched it softly, and sighed in frustration.

Abigail was looking down at her hands, before she looked back up. "Are you going to be okay-never mind, that was a really stupid fucking question. Listen, I'm going to give you some time, okay? I'll come back to check on you later."

Nathan stayed silent and just nodded.

"Why hasn't Charles gone to check on him?" William asked, breaking the silence in the room as they watched the scene unfold before them. There was a tone of concern in his voice, but none of the other guys called him out for it.

That was a first.

"I don't know, where is he? Don't we usually get to see what is going on?" Pickles asked, and looked over to Ishnifus, sitting at the end of the table still.

The older man shrugged, "Sometimes, we can't see what people don't want us to see." "Yeah, likes peoples can decides what we sees in the afterlife." Skwisgaar scoffed, and Ishnifus shrugged.

"You forget that Charles isn't like most people anymore."

The scene on the screen changed slightly, finally showing Charles. He stood in front of the prophecy painted on the wall, tracing his fingers over the older paintings. Abigail was shown walking up behind him.

"Charles," Abigail spoke as she walked down the hall, her monk robe flowing behind her, "He's awake."

"I know," Charles responded, though he kept his back to Abigail. She didn't seem surprised by his answer, and kept approaching him. He spoke again, "I keep thinking that I'm missing something. Every battle we have won and loss has started to appear on this wall, every death of each of the boys. Nathan's accident isn't here."

Abigail finally reached Charles' side, standing next to him, and she looked at the wall with him. "Do you think that maybe it's because he wasn't meant to die yet?"

"Yet."

"You know what I mean, Charles. I'm not trying to upset-"

Charles raised a hand and cut her off, "It's fine." He paused, "Go speak to the monks and the generals of the army, tell them I will expect them in the large hall in two hours. We have to start taking a new approach."

He didn't wait for Abigail to answer him, instead Charles turned around, and walked out of the room.

Back at Mordhaus, the room had once again grown silent.

Nathan had gotten out of the bed, dressed in the clothes that were waiting for him, and started to walk around the room. He stretched out, he took his time, because his body wasn't in as good shape as it used to be - not that he was ever in that good of shape to begin with - and he had to be careful of how he moved. Laying in bed for a week hadn't done him any favors.

He had paced enough of the room to know exactly whose it was, though the items on the bedside table had given it away. Nathan sat back down on the edge of the bed, and opened the drawer in the bedside table, and took out the black marker that rested there. He then took the red tie, and started to draw on it.

"What are you doing?"

Nathan didn't look up, as he continued to draw, and he heard Charles walk closer to him, and then sink into the bed next to him.

"I'm making an eye patch, what does it look like I'm doing?" Nathan muttered.

"Ah, with my tie?"

Nathan looked over to Charles, needing to turn fully towards him to see him. "You're not using it anymore." He shrugged. He moved back to what he was doing, and finished what he was drawing, and started to knot the tie around his head.

"Here, let me help." Charles said, his voice softer than Nathan had heard it be in years, as Charles helped turn the tie into a makeshift eyepatch. "Let me see."

Charles leaned forward to look as Nathan looked towards him, and Charles swallowed hard when he saw what Nathan had drawn on the tie.

"It's the gear," Nathan said, as if Charles had forgotten Dethklok's old symbol from years ago. Charles nodded.

"I know."

"Oh yeah, right. You're all knowing now. I forgot." Nathan's voice had a hint of bitterness to it, and Charles flinched slightly. Nathan was surprised at the action.

Charles cleared his throat, and wrung his hands together, "I'm not all knowing. If I was, this would have never happened."

"Yeah."

"Do you honestly think I would purposely put you in harm's way?"

"Isn't that what a war is? We're all in harm's way. We're all going to die one day."

Charles stayed silent. Nathan cleared his throat.

"Well, you know what I meant."

Heavy silence fell between the two men, until there was a knock on the door. "Your Holiness, we're waiting." A monk called from the door, and Charles replied, "I'll be there." Charles cleared his throat, "Nathan, uh, I need to…"

"Yeah. I'll be around. I need to get back to training, figure out what use I am now." Nathan didn't look at Charles when he spoke.

Charles sat up from the bed and started to walk out of the room, but when he reached the door he stopped. He didn't turn around to face Nathan, but spoke, "For the record, I didn't want this to happen. To you, to any of you boys. Nathan, you're, ah, officially all that I have left."

Nathan looked up to reply to Charles, but Charles was gone before Nathan could say anything.