A/N: These chapters are rated M. If you're not okay with that, turn back now.

Also, we're nearing the end of the volume! So after we're done postiong it, there will be a break before we post Volume Five (which is the final volume.)

Happy Reading!

-- Mel and Chuck

NOVEMBER 2541

It's lunchtime. Normally this means I'd sit in the nearest available seat and start devouring whatever we have served, but not today. I'm on a mission.

Dani and I still haven't resolved our little no-sex thing, and jerking off really isn't cutting it for me. Not that watching and being watched isn't enjoyable, but…masturbation has never been so unsatisfying. It's frustrating, to say the least. But now I've come up with a plan to fix all that, a plan that will either do that or make things worse. I'm willing to take the risk. After all, she started this, and I am just immature enough to make her finish it.

"Hey Afa," I say pleasantly as I sit next to her. She greets me just as Dani sets down her food across the table. My wife's face is suspicious as all hell, and I smirk. She's going to be so mad at me.

"Afa, I just wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to my wife," I start. "She loves having someone besides me to talk to." I look up to see Dani's guarded face: she knows something's up. "I'm not much of a conversationalist, if you know what I mean. I'm more of a nonverbal communicator."

Afa obviously knows that there's been discord between Dani and I; she's pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. Nice to know that she's willing to be a good sport.

"But hey, in the bedroom, I get my point across." I waggle my eyebrows and get mixed reactions. Afa snorts, but Dani's eyes get wide. STOP IT, KALE. No can do.

"I mean, she responds to me, so I must be doing something right. Afa, you should hear her. You think she's vocal in public? In private she screams for me." I'm grinning; I can't help it. Dani's face is priceless. My words have shocked her into silence.

"And not just screams. She'll whine and whimper for me, tells me she's desperate to have me inside her. Of course, she'd never tell you that, but I believe in honesty between friends. And between the two of us as a couple?" I tap the side of my head. "No secrets. I gotta tell you, the images in this girl's head. Raunchy. When she's moaning and panting, and arching up like a cat in heat—I bet she could probably get to that place all on her own, with what she sees behind her eyelids. And her mouth—"

"Kale, shut up," she hisses, finding her voice finally. I grin like a boy who knows he's in trouble, but I can't stop yet.

"Let's just say Dani's very skilled. It's enough to make a man explode."

She stands, upending her chair. "Outside, now."

I turn to Afa courteously. "Care to join us? Our little circus act is almost over." She stands after a moment of hesitation and we walk to the central courtyard.

"Afa, please excuse my jackass of a husband who doesn't know how to act any older than a stupid fourteen-year-old," Dani says hotly.

"It's fine, Dani. It's actually kind of funny," Afa tries to reassure her. She then turns to me, a smile threatening. "But maybe you shouldn't push her so far, Kale."

Dani swipes at a furious tear. "I'm so sorry Afa."

Her friend rubs her arm. "It's okay. I won't even remember this conversation in a few minutes."

Smart girl. She turns to me and closes her eyes, waiting. I place my hand gently over her eyes and pull her memories of the last couple of minutes. She opens her eyes again, looking a tad disoriented. I point her in the direction of her tent and watch her go. I think I'm going to like her a lot.

I turn back, only to see Dani stomping off to our own tent. I roll my eyes and follow her. Time to see if my gamble worked.

"I cannot fucking believe you," is the greeting I get. "You asshole!"

"She doesn't remember it!" I protest. "What's the big deal?"

"What did you think you were going to accomplish with that stunt?" She shoves me as hard as she can. "Did you think you were funny?"

"Afa did," I reply with a smirk.

She shrieks and smacks me full across the face. "I hate you!"

I grab her wrists then and she kicks me in the shins. I trip and we land on the ground, me on top of her. Her mind flashes a vivid image to mine: the two of us lying in the road in the sun, years ago. She was mad at me then, too. I remember all this with a vicious grin and force my mouth onto hers, grinding my hips against hers. She makes a noise between a moan and a growl and pushes back.

"How is this going to make anything you've done better?" she groans into my neck.

"I haven't done anything that you wouldn't have," I whisper breathlessly, "I've just been more creative."

"You're such a dick," as her hands yank up my shirt and attempt to pull it over my head.

I grin as that fact is made quite obvious. "Please, Dani," I breathe, kissing her once chastely. "Please will you stop being mad at me so I can remind you why you like me so much?" I thrust against her, in case she's forgotten.

She gasps before answering me, "Okay. Hurry before I change my mind." I don't really need any more encouragement than that. Our clothes are off in seconds, and my hand traces down her hip to the blonde curls between her thighs. My fingers find her clitoris and she cries out wordlessly. Oh, I've missed that. God, she's wet, and so tight that I could just kiss her. I'd like to be able to draw this out, to give her the kind of foreplay that will have her begging for the main event, but I've been denied this for way too long. I'll make up for it later, I think as I sink into her, feeling her muscles tense involuntarily around me.

She arches up to meet me as she comes, her breasts pressing to my chest. She quivers as I empty myself inside her. We rest against each other on the carpet, panting as though we've run a race.

"I really like you a lot," she manages between breaths. I smile and pull her closer to me. When we finally get up, we throw clothes on just in time to hear someone call from outside our tent, "Sir? There's someone here to see you."

I step into the afternoon light to see Morgana waiting with Mrs. Gray. The eternally youthful woman looks up and smiles, but there is worry in her eyes.

"How did you get here?" I ask with confusion, forgetting my manners. "Why are you here?"

"My daughter and my son-in-law used to work for an agency," she starts, "It wasn't that hard to hire someone to fly me here."

"Is he still here?" I ask with concern. The location of the camp isn't supposed to be public knowledge.

"No. And Kale," she adds with gentle rebuke, "you had a map at the apartment. You shouldn't leave such things lying around."

"Mama, you broke into my house?" Dani comes up to join the conversation. "What the hell?"

"Everyone has been here but me," Mrs. Gray says casually, "I thought I'd come see it for myself." Too bad her emotions aren't as calm as her words. Under her easy demeanor is a mild current of hurt, worry, and isolation. "Where's your father, by the way?"

"Mr. Gray hasn't been here for a while," I tell her. "He's been at the other camps, training the other soldiers." If I weren't watching for it, I wouldn't see the way her face falls for a millisecond before the mask goes back up.

"He failed to mention that," she says coolly. That bastard…I must look so stupid right now, don't even know where my husband is…

I wince for her. I understand why Mr. Gray handles things the way he does, but it can't be easy for his wife. The three of us make our way over to the dining area, making small talk as we go. I eat dinner while trying to ignore Mrs. Gray's thoughts and give her privacy. When we leave dinner we see Mr. Gray standing alone in the courtyard. He waits until we reach him to speak, assessing his wife coldly.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"I came for a visit," she says, raising her chin in a gesture of defiance.

"I don't recall giving you permission to leave Manhattan." His words are icy and drip with an arrogant ownership, one that he means to convey to her.

"We'll be leaving now," he tells her after a moment of tense silence. Turning to me, he says, "Kale, I'll be back tomorrow. But the troops are ready. It's time for you to take them out."

A couple days later…

Mr. Gray never came back like he said he was going to, and Dani's getting a little worried. I can't say that I blame her as her father has always been unfailingly punctual… but the thought o just showing up at her parent's house like she wants me to do terrifies me. Still, Mr. Gray did tell me the troops were ready, and unless I get the plan of attack for the continent, I won't be able to move forward…

And that's why I'm here, trembling in the November chill on my in-law's door step and wishing someone would just come to the door and answer my knock. I'm shifting from foot to foot, hands in my jacket pockets as my breath puffs bright white into the air. And despite the chill, there's something slippery beneath my feet. I look down and smell it instantly. It's coppery and dark red against the concrete stoop, a trickle of blood that's seeping from under the door and pooling at my feet.

My heart jumps to my throat and my eyes widen at the sight. Jesus, this can't be good. I panic, reach for the door handle. It's locked but I make easy enough work of that, ripping it completely off and kicking the door forward. The solid metal door lands with a thud and a resounding ring in a pool of congealing blood.

I don't know what I was expecting, but the scene in front of me was most definitely not it.

Mrs. Gray is completely naked and suspended in the middle of the room by chains attached to two hooks in the ceiling. Her blonde hair is braided and bound up into a bun on top of her head… and her back is a mess of red meat, hanging flesh, and exposed spine. I guess I know now where the blood was coming from.

In front of her, facing me is Mr. Gray. His hands are wrapped around her ass, holding her up and taking some of the strain off of her shoulders. His lips are buried against her neck and his face is flecked with the same blood pooling on the floor. Beneath her spread thighs, his legs are slightly bent and his feet flat in the blood, moving and making the stuff lap at the sides of his feet. And he's clearly inside of her.

I shiver when I see it. It's terrifying, the two people who practically raised me standing there in a pool of blood, my almost mother clearly in agony and my maybe father enjoying every second of it. I've known before this that their tastes ran towards the strange and sometimes sickening, but seeing it with my own eyes… it's at once horrifying and erotic. The look on Mr. Gray's face… he's biting his lip and his eyes are tightly shut and he's straining up and into his wife as if whatever he's missing is buried between her legs. And despite the pain and the cries, Mrs. Gray is tensing the way Dani does right before she comes.

When the pair orgasms, I know it. I don't know how long I've been standing there watching him drive into her, watching him punish and please her, but it's been long enough that Mr. Gray throws his head back and groans long and low as Mrs. Gray shivers, toes curling behind his calves as her back finally heals and she sobs just once. I don't know why I hadn't noticed before then that she wasn't healing… but Mr. Gray does have that ability, the one he calls "the Haitians."

He spots me before I have time to come back to my senses, and before I know it I'm frozen to the spot. The blood has coated the bottom of my shoes and soaked through the sides. Looking into his eyes, I'm not sure what the emotion I see is. My mentor has always been unreadable like that.

Oddly enough, Mrs. Gray is the first one to speak. She's still naked, still coated in blood, still twirling on those dangling chains as her toes just barely brush the floor. I can't help but notice the way her breasts rise and swell beneath the red, red blood. I'm not sure whether to appreciate the view or shirk from it. Either way, I'm painfully aware that the woman in front of me practically raised me… and equally as aware that on some level the tableaux I watched pleased me. I'm sporting an embarrassing hard on that makes me wish I could sink through the floor.

"Kale, I'm afraid we're busy right now," she says softly, green eyes meeting mine unashamedly. "You should probably wait in the other room."

I probably look like a frightened child, standing there glancing frantically from Mr. Gray to his wife and back. My father-in-law seems to consider his options for a moment before nodding releasing me from his strings.

"Go wait in the kitchen," he orders, turning his back on me to focus his attention on his wife again.

"Yes, Mr. Gray," I say. On my way out I nod to the woman, still suspended and slowly spinning. "Mrs. Gray," I say softly.

She chuckles, letting her head fall back and her breasts shake.

"I think you can call me Claire now, Kale."

I only nod, too unsure to speak, and then rush into the kitchen where I throw up loudly in the sink.

Mr. Gray doesn't come and get me for another hour, and the sounds coming from the living room let me know he was in no rush.

DECEMBER 2541

Over the last month, the other troops from around the country have come pouring in. Our little camp has swelled to accommodate the full 2000 soldiers, and tonight I'm addressing them as their…well, their leader, sort of. I felt sort of sick thinking about it earlier, but I can do this. I was born to do this. As I float a few feet in the air, so they can all see me, I feel a swelling sense of pride and the adrenaline that rushes through me every time I think of what the coming months and years hold for us.

"Everyone," my voice rings out clearly in the crisp air, "we've been waiting for this for a long time. Tomorrow you are beginning the most important event of your lives: taking part in this revolutionary change to the world order." I can hear Dani's thought's as I speak: Don't overdo it Kale…get to the point. I grin inwardly and continue.

"I am Kale Romanov, your immediate commanding officer. I am Sylar's second and expect to be accorded the appropriate respect." God, that feels weird. Not the idea of respect and control—that should be a given. But calling Mr. Gray by that name is so unsettling. I've only ever 'heard' his wife call him that—and never in the context of deference or admiration. He insisted on it, though, so I guess I'll get used to it.

"Sylar will be with us from time to time, but he does have other things to attend to, so for the most part you will be solely under my direction.

"Now, concerning our plan for the continent: I have mapped out the major cities with the largest populations. We will go from city to city, taking down any governments that have been established and installing local leaders that are loyal to Sylar." At this mention of his name, a few cries are raised in support.

"Sylar!"

"President!"

"King!"

"Tyrant!"

The last word echoes and everyone falls silent. My gaze zeroes in on the guilty man. He glares defiantly at me, radiating anger.

"Excuse me," I say quietly, my voice icier than air around us, "You were insubordinate just now. Not only that, your statement was false. Your commander is not a tyrant."

"Like hell he's not! He's amassed an army to go through the continent to destroy any semblance of order so that he can have the whole world to his liking." The man's suicidal boldness has almost taken me aback, but he's not finished. "And it will never even work," he sneers. "Your Sylar is a fool."

I allow no emotion to register on my face as I raise a small rock, no larger than the first joint of my finger, to levitate before me. A single movement and the man collapses, bleeding from the fatal wound in his forehead. I look down to see the others edging away from him, looking back to me with fear in their eyes.

"Troops," I continue, keeping my voice steady, "we will not be slaughterers of innocents. If they are not in our way and unopposed to our cause, there is no need for death. The problem arises"—and here I raise my voice just a little—"when people think that they know better than Sylar, and look to cause trouble.

"Our world now is like a broken bone. It has been set wrong, and it can never heal properly the way things are. In order to set things right, we may have to break some things down again so they can be rebuilt.

"Where were you all, just a few years ago? Starving? Begging? Stealing and scavenging for the barest of survival. Under Sylar's rule, there won't be any need for that. Efficiency will go up. The orphanages will be gone.

"You can have the life you deserve! Together we can bring about a better world, the kind that our ancestors took for granted. It's ours." My voice drops to almost a whisper. "Under Sylar's rule, it's ours for the taking."

The soldiers explode into wild cheers and applause at this. All I can do is smile as I float back to the ground beside Dani.

"Kale, was all that really necessary?" she says in my ear, "It seemed a little grandiose."

"They're ready now. They're unified and excited, and that's good," I tell her, my arm curling around her waist. Her blue eyes search mine for a minute before she smiles and rests her head on my shoulder.

"And what are you doing with him?" She nods toward the cooling body on the ground.

I sent him flying with a wave of my hand into the pit where we dumped out garbage. That's all he was anyway.

"And what about that?" Dani presses the issue. "Was murdering that guy a good thing, too?"

I turn to her, my face serious. "Dani, he called your dad a dictator and an idiot."

"Daddy's not even here, and he's tough. He can deal with it."

I love her, I really do, but sometimes she doesn't get the important stuff. "That guy was supposed to be a soldier in your dad's army. Rebellion is not an option, especially not so early in our campaign. These people need to be totally committed to me, your dad, and this goal. Now they know how serious this is."

"You could have done it later," she says petulantly. "Now the new people will think you're a big touchy jerk."

"Your father would have made him scream while everyone watched him suffer. I think I'll sleep fine tonight." On that note, I leave her and gather the soldiers with super-speed and flight capabilities to me.

"At dawn, I want you to go ahead up to Winnipeg to scout out the situation up there, get a feel for what we're getting into. You will report back to me every few hours. The rest of the group will be inside the train; I'll be flying nearby, so you shouldn't have any problems getting in touch with me. If a situation gets violent or people get suspicious, get out of there and come directly to me. I'd like to keep things as peaceful as possible."

Tomorrow's going to be a big day.

The Next Week

I'm sitting in a very uncomfortable chair at a cramped little table in Northern Winnipeg. Its fucking freezing even in doors, and my toes feel like they're missing. It's a damn shame the scouts I sent out an hour ago haven't returned with the supplies yet. Having a firestarter around doesn't do any good when the only thing to burn is your shelter.

I tap my fingers impatiently and look out across the room. It's filled with troops and citizens alike, laughing and shivering together.

The ease with which we took the northern half of the continent is almost disappointing. Almost. I have to remind myself that the reason we trained for so long, spent so many long days and weeks perfecting skills and stratagem, was so that we could achieve a takeover without mass bloodshed and resentments. Mr. Gray-- Sylar, had assured me that this was the best way. We didn't just want to run things, we wanted the people to love us.

And I'll be damned if they don't.

We rolled into each of the major cities without any sort of resistance. The most we received was curious glances and a few bold glares for sending people home from the market early in order to establish ourselves in prominent and permanent locals. There had been only a few deaths, two of which had been accidental. A few soldiers had been a bit trigger happy with their powers… obviously they couldn't be allowed to live. We had executed them publicly and offered reparations to the families of the dead. That was Dani's idea. Apparently, she's more publicly minded than either her father or I, because the people seemed pleased and fascinated with the pale haired daughter of their new leader.

Over all, the resounding sentiment at our establishment within the sparsely populated cities has been, astoundingly… relief. I don't know if it's because the north is less dense population wise and more in need of a supporting government, but I'm glad for the lack of resistance. It just blows that the easy acquiescence will, in all likelihood, disappear once we head south.

The southerners have already proven to be more rebellious and less likely to go along with our plan. There are more of them, for one, and for two, they've established a sort of rudimentary nationalism. They've got currency already that's recognized throughout most of the southwest as well as a group of citizens called "The Pacific-25" who are in charge of judgment and sentencing of criminals. It's a strange and somewhat archaic system, as there aren't actually any clear cut laws… but the south has developed a few unwritten rules they seem to adhere to. No murder, no thievery, and no sexual assault. Sylar likes to compare them to the "Old West," whatever that is. I just compare them to a pain in my ass, because I can already tell that's what they're going to be at the beginning of January when we make the trip to see them.

A hoot and a holler at the other end of the warehouse calls my attention. The scouts have returned with supplies and everyone is cheering. I cringe momentarily at the loud burst of noise before rising and motioning for the wood to be brought forward and lit. At my side, Dani sighs in boredom, watching disinterestedly as the people all around her smile and laugh excitedly.

It's amazing how out of place she looks here, gold hair flowing down past her bottom and tight red sheathe dress showing off mile long legs. The other women in the room are all bundled up; the only skin they're showing is on their faces. They're not particularly feminine women to start with, how can they be when the only people here are people who, like the original soldiers, want to take part in the formation of government and order in their city? I'm not saying women aren't smart and capable of taking the lead, I'm married to Sylar's daughter for fucks sake, but up here in the north, where protection of the family is a constant duty… let's just say women's rights have regressed since my mentor's time, and he's not particularly sad about it. My father in law seems to view the reverse suffrage with amusement. I'm not exactly sure whether he's planning to change it, but from what Dani says, I'd be willing to bet if he isn't already planning it, she'll convince him within the month.

"Mr. Romanov, Sir!" I glance sharply from Dani to the man in front of me.

"Yes, Jax?" Jax is the man who will be in charge of this area when I move on, he is my direct subordinate and the one soldier I have the most confidence in. When people have questions or concerns, they go to Jax, who then comes to me. He's a puppeteer, which makes him powerful and scary as hell to the average soldier. There's something about knowing your commanding officer could make you use that telekinesis of yours to lift a giant boulder and drop it on your own head that makes you want respect the man.

"It's the orphanage, Sir," that's another thing I like about Jax. He's a no nonsense type of guy who likes cutting to the chase as quickly as possible. Maybe it's because of the red hair. "The guards there are refusing to leave their posts."

I raise a brow. Now this is interesting. Just when I start to get comfortable with the whole 'peaceful takeover' thing, some ass hole orphan catchers have to give me shit. I'm about to respond, tell Jax to take them all out and parade them by the other orphanages as examples when Dani speaks behind me.

She's standing now, Shiny black stilettos making her even taller than she normally is and one hand on her hip.

"I'd like to have a word with them," she says softly, almost demurely. The entire warehouse goes a little hushed as if they're waiting for me to answer.

I only want to talk to them. And when I'm done you can make examples of the fuckers. She thinks softly, just like she's speaking. In her head I see images of starving orphans and a little blonde baby with a gold bracelet. I wonder for a moment what it's all about before deciding I can ask later and nodding my assent. After all, Dani's the princess here, quite literally, and if I don't help her at least make an example that women too are capable of leadership... let's just say she's not afraid to serve up another freezing plate of blue-balls.

"Alright," I breathe, "Jax, you stay here. Dani, Gustav, Richter, Afa… with me." The people in the warehouse seem to let out a collective sigh as I leave the table in the center and head out to take care of the orphanage guards with my indestructible wife, her freezing friend, a speedster, and an earth mover.

Looks like I'm going to get a bit of the action I was just mourning. Maybe next time I'll be more careful with my thoughts.