A/N: This has become a very AU version of Volume 4. In my version, Peter's ability was unchanged when he got it back, Nathan never tried to arrest Peter, and Peter and Claire brought down the plane, but Nathan has no idea because they got away and he has no proof, just a hunch. Claire is also attending college in New York and living with Angela on the weekends. This story is set about a month after the crash. That's about all the exposition I need to explain outside of the story...I hope. If anything is unclear, just let me know. Enjoy!

Elie Costantin internally shuddered as she handed the list to New York's junior senator, Nathan Petrelli. Despite the fact that the man wasn't elected to public office, the public seemed to like him. Elie attributed this to his good looks and what appeared to be a firm stance on terrorism. The American public didn't realize that the "terrorists" Petrelli was rounding up were sometimes as young as five-years-old and were only considered terrorists because they were born with certain genetic traits.

Elie wasn't supposed to know any of this, she'd discovered it by accident, and she really wished she hadn't. Most of the people in the senator's office, only guessed that the specifics of his anti-terrorism campaign, and she would have much preferred to remain ignorant herself. She was all too afraid that one day she would see her own name on the list she was presently showing the senator.

Senator Petrelli signed the piece of paper and looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Costantin," he said with his winning smile, "I've forgotten your first name again."

"Elie," she answered, forcing her own small smile, "like Robert E. Lee."

The senator handed her the signed list and leaned back in his cushy chair. "I thought you were from New York. Were your parents from Mississippi or something?" he asked with seemingly genuine interest.

Elie stiffened. "General Lee was from Virginia," she emphasized, "as was my father. He still teaches at VMI. I was born in Virginia, but I was raised in Buffalo with my mom."

"Sorry," Petrelli said with a smile, "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Oh, no offense taken, Sir," she lied as the locked the list in the secure document holder. "I'll get this to the FBI on my way home, so they can get started on it right away. Enjoy your long weekend, Sir."

"You too, Elie."

She wanted to cringe at the sound of her given name from the senator's mouth, but she maintained her smile and left his office. That evening, she stoically delivered the document to the deputy director of the FBI, but she didn't go home afterward. Instead, she headed straight for Lexington.

The ancient buildings of the Institute greeted her against a darkening sky. She parked in an almost abandoned lot and tramped across the campus toward her father's office. Some of the guards acknowledged her, but they didn't try to stop her. They'd seen her around the campus since she could crawl.

She smiled when a familiar face greeted her in the hallway where her father's office was located.

"Cadet Captain Barnes," she greeted him lightly. "It's good to see you."

The tall, handsome, blue-eyed man returned her smile. "Same to you, ma'am."

"Ugh," she groaned sarcastically, "I'm only three years older than you, Jason, and I'm your ex-girlfriend. Please don't call me 'ma'am'."

"Anything you say, Elie," he answered, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek. "How have you been?"

"I'm great," she lied brightly. "I'm working for the junior senator from New York."

"He's not acting overly-senatorial, is he?" Jason asked.

Elie punched him for his suggestively raised eyebrow. "Stop stereotyping," she told him. "What are you going to do after graduation?"

"I was just discussing that with your dad," he answered. "He suggested the Marines…embassy duty."

"Sounds kind of boring."

"Not if the embassy is in Baghdad."

"True enough," Elie agreed. "I guess my dad's still in his office."

"Yep," he answered. "It was good seeing you, Elie."

"You too, Jason," she said before walking on.

She stopped at the door labeled Colonel David A. Costantin.

"Come on in, Sweetheart," a voice called from the other side.

She smiled and opened the door. "That would freak out most people," she said, sitting down across from her father.

David returned his daughter's smile. The colonel had often been told he resemble Harry Truman. Elie could definitely see the resemblance, especially since her father started wearing glasses. The major difference was the eyes. Truman's were perpetually round and wide. David Costantin's were narrower, sharper, and smarter. Elie's father also had most of his hair, although it had long since turned gray.

"You should be careful about doing stuff like that, Dad," she told him solemnly. "Using your ability to see through walls could get you into a lot of trouble these days."

"What sort of trouble?" David asked her without looking up from the stack of papers on his desk.

"The senator I'm working for," she began, "he's going after people with abilities, rounding them up and putting them in some sort of facility. He's convinced the president we're all dangerous. I'm not supposed to know about this, of course."

David stopped working and looked his only child in the eye. "Elie-baby, why are you telling me this?"

She shrugged. "You're my dad," she answered. "You always know what to do, and I don't right now. What Petrelli is doing is wrong. Should I quit my job? Should I stay and try to stop him? Is stopping him an act of treason? I'm the daughter of a Marine Corps colonel, I can't betray my country."

"Yes, you can, Sweetheart," her father answered gravely.

Elie looked at him in utter disbelief.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her.

"Implicitly."

"Then close your eyes."

She obeyed her father's command. She heard him get up and then she felt the sharp pain of a needle in her neck. And then she felt nothing.

Elie awoke to find herself strapped to a chair. Her wrists were bound to the arms and her ankles to the legs. Her shoulders were strapped down and the back was so high she couldn't turn her head.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked into the darkness. "What did you do to my father?"

"We didn't do anything to your father," an unfamiliar male voice answered.

"He let you kidnap me," she insisted. "You had to threaten him with something."

"They didn't kidnap you, Elie-baby," her father said, emerging from the shadows and sitting down in front of her on a stool. "I brought you here."

Elie's shoulders slumped as much as her bonds would allow. "Why?"

David gave her a sad little smile. "Because you want to do the right thing," he answered. "And this is the right thing to do."

"What is this?" Elie asked, frustrated.

"Hope," the voice from behind her answered.

Elie didn't bother to turn around and see who it was. She knew that endeavor would be fruitless. "Daddy, as eloquent as that sounds, I'm gonna need a little more explanation."

David smiled. "You remember that first group of fugitives your boss rounded up?"

"The plane crashed. There weren't any survivors," Elie quickly answered. Despite that setback, Nathan Petrelli had stubbornly carried on.

"The plane did crash, but almost everyone survived," David corrected.

"Almost," the man behind her said sadly.

David looked past Elie and to the man standing above her left shoulder. "It's not your fault," the colonel assured him. "You did the best that you could." He looked back at his daughter. "After he rescued some of his friends from the plane, my friend here he found me. Together we've been building a resistance. If we can fend off Petrelli, we won't have to run."

Elie silently considered this information. "You want me to be a spy," she concluded.

"Yeah, Elie-baby, that's what we need you to do."

"Daddy, that's treason."

"The men who tried to assassinate Hitler were committing treason, but no one can deny what they did was right," the mysterious man said, moving around the chair as he spoke.

His face was still obscured in shadow. All Elie could make out was his pale skin, a brown eye, and black hair.

"Who are you?" Elie asked him.

"It's better that you don't know who I am," he told her. "Now what's your answer?"

"I don't know how much help I can be," she admitted. "I'm just a secretary, and I only found out about Petrelli's master plan by accident."

"Anything you find out, you call me with the code word 'finch' and someone will find you," David eyed his shadowy friend as he spoke those last words.

Elie nodded and swallowed hard. "I'll do it," she promised.

David's sad smile returned. "That's my girl."

"Just one thing."

"What?"

"Maybe you've forgotten," she began, "but all those men who conspired against Hitler; they failed, and they died."

"Nathan Petrelli isn't Adolf Hitler," the man in the shadows said firmly. "Not yet."

David broke the suddenly uncomfortable silence saying, "We have to sedate you again. It's better that you don't know where we are. You'll wake up on your couch."

"I understand."

"I love you, Elie."

"Love you too, Dad."

Peter Petrelli gently placed the woman in his arms down on the couch in her dinky living room. Her place was, amazingly, even smaller than his. He slid off her shoes and covered her with a blanket, the nurse in him wanting to take care of the vulnerable woman.

Her father had wanted to bring her into their little rebellion from the beginning, but Peter encouraged him otherwise. They could trust her if she came to them, or, in other words, if she doubted Nathan. He was glad the wizened army colonel deferred to his judgment. Now they had an ally who was truly within Nathan's camp.

While Nathan hadn't rounded up his mother, brother, and daughter, and thrown them into a facility, he didn't exactly share with them. The only reason they were safe from imprisonment was because it would only end up reflecting badly on him. No matter what, Nathan would always be a politician.

The young woman started to stir on the couch and Peter knew that was his cue to leave. He went out the window onto the fire escape and closed the glass behind him. He then leapt into the air and headed back to New York City.