chapter one
"Troubled Men"

Levine Home,
Manhattan

"Have I mentioned how much I hate the fact that you're working for him?"

Ignoring the comment, Melony Levine continued to stressfully gather the documents and items she would need for, what she was sure would be, the hectic night ahead of her.

Standing in the doorway of Melony's office was her sister, Autumn, who continued to talk despite Melony ignoring her.

"I mean, the guys' a certified dirt bag. Do you really want this as your first major political job?"

"Alright!" Melony snapped finally, "I get it. You don't like him. Go blog about it already and leave me alone. You're not the one who's going to be working for him, right? Can it, already!"

Feigning hurt, Autumn shook her head, "Alright, fine. But when he screws you, along with the entire state of New York, don't come cryin' to me."

Breathing a sigh of relief as her sister left, Melony glanced at her watch and continued to try and get her things in order, all the while trying to figure out what was so urgent that she needed to start work a week earlier that expected.

Melony was the personal assistant to Congressman Nathan Petrelli, and he needed her at his Manhattan office immediately. When she'd questioned him as to why, he just said for her to be there as soon as possible.

Finally having everything she needed tucked away safely in her briefcase, Melony exited her office and made her way into the kitchen, where Autumn had already fixed two cups of coffee and was now sitting at the counter on her laptop.

Picking up a cup of coffee, Melony raised an eyebrow, "Any more bashing before I go?"

Autumn shrugged, looking up from the computer screen, "No. But are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, I mean, you have all these degrees in business and economics--do you really wanna be a secretary?"

"I'm a personal assistant. Not a secretary. And everyone has to start somewhere." Melony smirked, "Ok, I'm gone. Don't wait up."

"Hey, that's another thing. Don't you find it odd that he calls you to work at seven-thirty at night? I mean, what if he's a..."

"Say vampire and I'll kick your ass."

…

Nathan Petrelli's office

Manhattan

"Mr. Petrelli?" Melony knocked softly on the door before entering the spacious but cozy office that overlooked the city of Manhattan.

Nathan Petrelli rose from his seat, a politicians smile on his face as he walked over to greet her, "Ms. Levine--" He shook her hand, "I'm sorry to call you so late at night, and so early before you start, but this couldn't wait until next week." He motioned towards a chair and she took a seat, and then he returned to his seat behind the desk.

"There's no need to apologize, sir, I completely understand."

"Good." Nathan leaned back in his seat, and Melony was unable to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking as he straightened his tie, "Mr. Petrelli, are you ok?"

"Hm? Oh yes, I'm fine. Just a little too much coffee." He chuckled softly, and his eyes locked with her as he spoke, "Melony, listen--I'm afraid that you won't be able to work for me as my personal assistant. I'm sorry, but at the moment, that can't happen."

Eyes wide, Melony felt her heart sink at the same time her blood began to boil, "Excuse me...what?!"

Nathan shrugged, "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"But you handpicked me, sir!"

"Yes, I realize that, but...I'm going to have to find someone else."

"Can I at least ask why?" Melony all but growled, praying she wouldn't have to admit to her sister that she had been right.

Nathan smiled, "Because my senior political advisor resigned this morning--and I'd like you to take his place."

Melony nearly fell out of her seat. Was he serious? Career-wise, she's just skipped ahead about ten years, "Mr. Petrelli, I...I don't know what to say! Why the change of plans?"

"Well, I was going over your credentials earlier, and you're more than qualified for the position. Personally, I'd hate to see someone with your talent and determination waste it all as a meager assistant." He smiled, "So, do you accept?"

"I think 'yes' would be quite the understatement, sir."

"Alright, then let's get started."

…

Levine Home, Manhattan

Shutting off the power before closing her laptop, Autumn Levine leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed, Don't wait up, my ass, she thought. How could she sleep when her sister was working for the crookedest man in politics?

Autumn had never met Nathan Petrelli. She'd never talked to him, psychoanalyzed him, or even talked to someone who'd met him. But she didn't like him.

He was seedy. He was corrupt. As far as she was concerned, he was a liar.

She'd tried everything she could to talk Melony out of working for him, but she saw the job as the opportunity of a lifetime, and Autumn couldn't stop her.

An eerie sound broke the already eerie silence of the empty house, and startled Autumn from her thoughts. Heart pounding, she was on her feet before she realized what was happening.

The sound rang in her ears and ate at her nerves. It was like a scratching or a tapping-on-a-glass-floor sound.

Ignoring the creepy-crawly feeling she was getting, and the goosebumps on her skin, Autumn rushed out of the kitchen and into the main room where the sound was coming from, her mind on the handgun in her sisters bedroom.

Sucking in a nervous breath, she reached over and flipped the light switch, letting out a disgusted groan at what she saw.

It hadn't been a scratching sound at all, but the sound of tiny legs scurrying across the floor as dozens of cockroaches snuck in beneath the door.

Mumbling a string of curses, she stepped over the skittish creatures to open the door, curious as to where they were coming from.

She stumbled backwards in shock, covering her mouth to stifle a scream as she gazed down at the, what seemed to be lifeless, body of a man, bruised, beaten, and bloody.

She was positive her was dead, until his eyelids rose slowly, and his dark brown eyes peered up at her.

"Help." He managed to say, so weak she could barely hear him, before he passed out again.

…

As she tried to help the man stand up, pulling his arm around her shoulder and holding him around the waist, she knew she was crazy. Autumn honestly didn't know how he'd stayed alive however long since his injury. Blood seeped from both his chest and back, covering his clothes, and now hers.

But at the moment, all she could focus on was how heavy he was, seeing as how he was over six feet tall and, at the moment, quite literally dead weight.

"No...hospital..." He whispered weakly, through raspy breaths.

"Somehow, I knew that." She replied calmly, "Ok...can you tell me your name?"

His lips moved slowly, but all that came out was air.

"Ok, you can tell me later." Groaning, she managed to haul him into her bedroom and lay his down as gently as she could. Removing first his jacket, then his shirt, she gasped at the nearly four-inch wide wound that penetrated him all the way through.

"How the hell are you still breathing?" She said softly, staring at his bloody, heaving chest before coming to her senses, "I don't know if I can do this...I don't know what it's done to you inside, I don't know how this happened, I don't know...damn it, I'm not a doctor! I don't know anything!"

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, staring at her with pained eyes, and she swallowed hard. She needed towels. Alcohol. Needle and thread. Probably whiskey--for the both of them.

He could die for all she knew, but she had to try and help him. It would hurt like hell, that's for damn sure, but she would stitch him up.

Gathering the supplies(including her sisters tequila from the kitchen) as quickly as she could, she set up a mini-suture kit on her bedside table. She sterilized a sewing needle with alcohol, before emptying the bottle onto a white towel. She knew this would hurt the worst, as she winced and pressed the towel onto the wound. After a few seconds, his eyes flew open and he let out a scream that sent shivers up and down her spine. Choking sobs erupted from him as tears poured down his cheeks, his hands gripping the bloody sheets beneath him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She yelled as calmly as she could, "Please hold on. This is gonna hurt, too."

Without any anesthetic, all she could do was give him a shot of tequila, let him bite down on a clean towel, and hope he would eventually pass out from the pain.

Amazingly, he stayed awake the whole time.

With each amateur stitch, he groaned louder and sobbed harder. She hated watching this stranger suffer even more, but it was either this or let him bleed to death on her door steps.

After she was finally done, the poor man was exhausted. His entire body was red, and not just from the blood. He couldn't cry anymore, but still sobbed, and groaned in agony at her next words.

"Now, let me do your back."