Author's Note: This one-shot is more angst ridden than my usual fare, but it was weighing on me and had to be teased out line by line before I could focus on any other writing. Inspired by the recent David Rambo (Revolution writer & co-exec producer) interview in which he said that S3 plans included something with Bass & Rachel… He didn't really elaborate, but implied that the connection might be a romantic one. To me (and maybe you too) the idea of those two together romantically (outside of the S1 captivity) makes me reach for the vodka bottle & the remote. Honestly I just don't think I could watch it (and for a rabid fan such as me, this is saying something). Anyway… here's my version of S3 Rachel & Bass. Obviously I have no idea where the writers were actually headed, but in that same interview Mr. Rambo said we should all write our own versions of how their story might end. Well, here you go….
Part 1: Split Second
The Nano had never infested a human quite like Tom Neville before. At first they thought he was the same as the others: pliable, fluid, weak. They were wrong. They try to lock Neville behind a mental wall where he can picnic with imaginary versions of his wife and son; but Neville refuses to succumb, at least not completely. To any person who knows him, this isn't particularly surprising. After all, nobody takes care of number one as thoroughly as Tom Neville has always done.
NanoTom is a new animal. He is still cunning and slippery as the real Tom had always been, but now he has acquired a new level of coldness from the Nano. It seeps into his bones, and numbs his heart to the pain of his loss while at the same time chilling his need for revenge like Scotch on rocks. Every breath he takes brings his frozen focus more clarity. NanoTom knows that soon he will fade away into the coldness that the Nano teases him with; but before he can do that, he must complete one final mission.
Charlie Matheson must die for killing his son Jason, and Tom will be the one to kill her.
He makes his way into the camp quietly, and watches from the shadows. Miles and Bass are arguing like the girlfriends Tom has always suspected they truly are. NanoTom cracks a small smile as he spots his prey. There she is, just beyond where Butch and Sundance are yelling and pointing fingers. That little bitch is talking to her mother. The women are ignoring the men as if it's a thing they do every day, and of course that is exactly the case.
Tom has tried to kill Charlie before, but things always got in his way. First it was the lack of ammo, and then it was Bass with his boner for Miles. NanoTom frowns, as he watches the group. He raises his gun and waits for the perfect opening. He sees her in his sights and pulls back the hammer.
Maybe this tiny sound would have been ignored by average folks, but these are no average folks. The sound of a gun being cocked has the collective impact of dynamite on the foursome. All spring into action. Miles and Bass reach for their guns. Charlie reaches for her crossbow. Rachel doesn't reach for a weapon, but she is the first to identify their visitor and without a moment's hesitation she steps in front of her daughter.
A split second. That's all it is. The tiniest fraction of a moment. Charlie is in Neville's sights, and he pulls the trigger and it is exactly this same moment when Rachel makes the decision that Mothers will make every time they are faced with a similar scenario. This decision is in fact, the easiest one she's ever made. She places her life on the line for her child, and in that split second before the darkness comes to claim her, she thinks of Danny and of Ben and of Miles, but mostly of Charlie. In that fraction of an instant, she hopes that this sacrifice will make up for leaving her children so long ago and for ending the world they once knew.
And then, nothing.
Pandemonium abounds. Neville sees the wrong woman fall and goes to take another shot; a snarl of hatred and determination masking his features. He doesn't get the chance as a bullet sails through his Nano-filled brain, and then a second. He falls never knowing if it was Miles or Bass who ended him. The truth is neither of them will truly know for sure themselves.
Bass runs to the spot where Neville has fallen. He quickly shoots into the crumbled form until his clip is empty. "I should have done that years ago." Bass growls through clenched teeth. He looks around for any sign of his son, but sees nothing and nobody. He returns to the camp.
He's walking away so he doesn't notice anything unusual as the Nano makes its decision not to revive the body of their host. Instead they flit high into the night sky. These tiny pinpricks of light will search for a new person who is not so strong and not so obsessed. They will search for someone whose strings they can pull.
Neville never had been a good puppet, and now he is dead one.
Rachel is also dead. The gunshot to her chest couldn't have been placed in a more lethal location. She was dead before she fell. There are no last words for her to utter. She was here. Now she isn't. Charlie holds her mother's body, rocking gently – her eyes blankly staring into space. Miles' face is buried against Rachel's neck as he sobs into her. His chest is now covered with her blood. Her serene face is now covered with his tears.
The camp is strangely quiet. Only the echo of gunshots rings in their ears.
Part 2 Ghosts
Rachel is buried under a towering oak tree at the top of a peaceful hill. Miles has made a simple cross out of wood and it marks the spot where his love has found eternal rest. He is a zombie, barely living for more than his whiskey bottle. He stays away from the tiny grave side service, not yet ready to say his final goodbye.
Gene is there. He is drawn and looks truly old now, the loss of his beloved daughter has hardened him and aged him in a way nothing else could. Aaron is crying though he pretends not to. Priscilla watches them all quietly. She's still weak from the Nano's recent occupation, and honestly didn't know Rachel very well; but she comforts Aaron by putting her small hand in his.
Bass and Charlie both just stare at the cross, their eyes vacant, each lost in thought. Neither speaks.
Charlie hasn't cried yet. She isn't sure she will. The faces of those she has lost, circle in her head until it begins to pound. She turns back to camp. Bass watches her walk away. He thinks about following her, but doesn't think she wants company, and even if she did, it wouldn't be his that she wanted. Their friendship is still new and delicate, and he knows instinctively that she needs to be alone. The others gradually leave as well, until it is just Bass and the grave of the woman he hates most in this world.
He pulls a flask from his jacket pocket and sits at the base of the tree. For a while, he drinks in silence, feeling the warmth of the home-made hooch settle slowly into his mind and his body. He looks at the cross and sees Rachel's face in his mind.
"God you're a bitch." Bass mutters, taking another swig. "Even dead, you're a self-serving bitch. How can you do this to Miles? You said you loved him, and God knows that man loves you. How can you leave him broken like this? I'm the broken one, damnit." Bass' chokes up but he composes himself, "Miles is supposed to be strong. I need him to be strong. I needed you to be there for him and keep him that way." He takes another pull from the flask and hesitates before rambling on. "You're this bitch who has broken Miles' damn heart, but…." He trails off, thinking of Charlie and how much worse it would be if her grave were the one he was sitting by. "but thanks for saving her." Bass' voice is shaky as he says these last words.
He sits there drinking for a long time. The flask is empty, but he's come prepared and pulls a dingy bottle from a back pocket. "Reinforcements." He says with a bit of a smirk; showing the bottle to Rachel's cross. He thinks about all the times they fought over the years. He thinks about how once, long ago they were all friends. Before the world tilted and everything went sideways, she'd been his friend. She'd loved Miles even then; but they'd all been on the same damn side.
The blackout had changed everything. Whatever part of pre-blackout Bass still existed had died with Shelly. Miles had stuck around for a while, but in the end, Miles had left him. He'd left him with Rachel. Bass isn't proud of the way he tricked Miles into thinking Rachel was dead. He isn't proud that he kept her prisoner all those years. He isn't proud of that night when he went to her, knowing just which Miles-shaped buttons would need to be pushed to get her to crawl into his bed. The coupling had been brief and as far as he can remember; nothing remarkable. Bass and Rachel had both felt so guilty afterwards that it became something they pretended never happened, and it had never happened again. He'd kissed her that day on the creek bank because she had tried his patience and he was worried about Miles. Hell, the truth is he doesn't know why he did it, but Rachel sure thought she knew. He remembers her confronting him. It was the day after Texas had declared war on the US. Rachel had pulled him aside.
"Thanks for following through for Miles." She didn't meet his eyes, but he could hear the sincerity in her voice.
"It meant a lot to me that he was willing to trust me. You know I'll do anything for him." Bass admits.
"Me too."
"Do you think he has any idea just how much he means to both of us?" Bass asked, with a wary chuckle.
She shook her head no, took a deep breath and said, "Bass, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" He could think of a lot of things, but didn't want to piss her off by suggesting any of them.
"I'm sorry that I implied you had forced me when we were in Philadelphia. That was unfair and untrue."
He didn't respond at first, trying to decide if this was some mind game of hers or if she was being sincere. He looked her way and saw the pained expression she wore. She meant it. "Well, thanks."
"That kiss…" she trailed off nervously.
"Well, I'm sorry about that." It was his turn to be remorseful. "That was a jackass move. I'm really sorry."
"I think you were just showing me what force looked like, to remind me that it wasn't like that… then."
"Do we really need to talk about this again?"
"No. Let's not. It's behind us. Far behind." She smiled a little then, and he felt warmth spread through his chest.
"What's happening here Rachel? Are we going to try to be friends now?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.
"I think we should try for Miles and for Charlie, and honestly for us too."
"But what about Danny? You have always blamed me for…"
She cut him off. "I've moved past that. Miles helped me move past that. It took him a really long time, but I don't blame you now, not entirely anyway." Rachel's shoulders sunk a little. She looked tired. "I miss him so much Bass, but I need to focus on Charlie. She's still here."
"Yeah, and she needs you."
"You two are becoming friends aren't you?" She asked, her gaze on him.
"I think so. Yeah." He answered a little awkwardly. "Is that weird?"
Rachel shook her head, "No Bass. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually think it's healthy. Both of you have lost so much. In so many ways you're alike. It scares me to see it sometimes, but she needs all the friends she can get."
He nodded, "Yeah. I've thought about that too. There are some parallels."
"Listen," Rachel said, "I want you to promise me that if anything happens to Miles or me, you'll stay with her and help her get through it okay?"
"Don't talk like that. You and Miles, you're invincible."
"No, we're not Bass." Rachel sighed tiredly. "I hope we are around for a long time, but these last few weeks have been so scary and uncertain and with the Nano going crazy…" she trailed off.
"The Patriots are done. Miles thinks the war will be over by the end of summer." He tried to console her. "I don't pretend to understand that Nano shit, but I think we're all going to be okay."
"Promise me Bass."
He hesitated, unsure, before answering, "Okay, I promise."
That had been their last conversation. Now she's gone. "I'm sorry I called you a bitch," he says quietly to the wooden cross. "I mean, you totally were one sometimes; but I'm really glad we were kind of getting along toward the end."
Part 3: Moving On
"I think she was glad too." Charlie says from behind him.
"How long have you been there?" Bass asks, frowning.
She shrugs, "Long enough. You okay?"
Bass nods, "Yeah, how are you?" He pats the ground next to his spot and she sits, staring at the grave.
"Well, I've been better." Charlie says, forcing a nervous laugh. He sees that her hands are shaking a little and he gives her the old bottle. She takes it and holds it to her lips, drinking the remaining swill until the bottle is empty. Her hands steady. "I haven't cried yet. I should cry, right? I think I should cry, but nothing happens."
"There's no right or wrong way to grieve Charlie. You just have to do the thing that makes you hurt a little less."
They sit quietly for a long time, before Charlie blurts out, "Sometimes I really hated her, you know?" Bass doesn't say anything. He can tell she needs to talk it out. "She left us. She left us and didn't even seem to care. Then when Danny died she didn't even pretend that he wasn't her favorite." Charlie's voice is rising with each word. "It was like I wasn't even there! What kind of mother does that?"
"She did love you." Bass says quietly, reminding her of the obvious.
"You mean because she saved my life?" there's a catch in her voice. She's just barely hanging on. "I wish she'd have shown me before that. I wish she'd been there for me when I really needed her. I wish she'd ever looked at me the way she looked at Danny." Charlie's face is streaked with tears now, and Bass is pretty sure she doesn't even know she's crying.
"Come here." He says, and the dam breaks and Charlie is sobbing into his neck. He holds her for a long time. Eventually she stops crying, but she doesn't move. Then her breathing slows back to normal and she sits up.
They sit quietly staring at the grave until the sun begins to set.
"Thanks." She finally says, her voice still a little scratchy. "Thanks for listening."
"I'm here anytime you need to talk Charlie."
She looks at him and smiles slightly. "I'll remember that." Standing, she reaches a hand toward him. "Come on. We both need to eat something." Bass lets her pull him up. When he is standing, he doesn't feel like letting go of her hand, but he does. They begin to walk down the hill and pass Miles on his way up. He doesn't say anything or meet their gazes, but both Charlie and Bass notice that he's not carrying any bottles. They surmise this is probably a good thing.
When they reach the bottom of the hill they look up. Miles is sitting where Bass had been and he's talking to the air above Rachel's grave.
"This may take a while," Bass says quietly, as he watches his oldest friend say goodbye to the woman he's loved for decades.
"Yeah," Charlie responds, taking Bass' hand and leading him to the camp. "Come on now. I'm hungry. We'll check on him whenever he decides to come down."
Bass and Charlie get to the camp. They eat. They talk to Aaron and Priscilla. They talk to Gene. There are a lot of hugs. There are tears. There are more bottles of hooch and slowly there is even laughter. The big open space left by Rachel's death is gradually filling in with the group's voices as they share their favorite memories of her. She's gone, but will not be easily forgotten. There will still be pain, but there is also hope and acceptance and friendship, and there is love.
There is great love here.
**End**
Author's Note: So there it is… My answer to what might happen in S3 between Rachel and Bass. I'll now be returning to all the Charloe loveliness that I usually obsess over. I would love to hear your thoughts on this though. It's so different from my usual stuff, that I'm terribly curious what you think.
By the way… if we ever do get some continuation whether it be a season or a movie or something else entirely, I do sincerely hope that the writers will limit any Bass/Rachel interaction to friendship. Yes, they have a past. No reason they must have a future.