A/N: First fanfic so please be nice.. It started in a place of venting as Charlie, and kinda morphed into Charloe accidentally. Word of warning, I kinda swap between present and past tense because I'm not used to writing in first person, but it seemed right in this case. Right now it's a one shot, depending on what happens next week that could change. Anyways, reviews are always welcome.

"He killed my son!," Rachel (maybe I should call her mom?) screamed at Miles for the hundredth time, who gave her the same apologetic look he gave her every time she hit him with that. I couldn't take it anymore. I left. Granted, I told my guys, four now, first so I would be followed at a respectable distance as I wandered aimlessly away from the camp. With my bottle of whiskey.

Two hours later...

My mom was so focused on my brother, and now Miles. This walk was not a good idea. Especially not with a full bottle of whiskey. Which is my last one. All it's doing is making me focus on everything that I had been running away from. Again and again the scenes played through my head. Mom leaving, Dad dying, Maggie dying, Nora dying... Oh god, Nora. She would be nice to talk to right now. I needed her, or just someone who I could trust.

I didn't know what was going on with my mom, I just know that every since I came back, she was trying. But now all Miles is interested in is her... and I just don't know. Is it selfish of me to want them to focus on me for a little bit? Really, I know my mom had been on a bender, but she wasn't there for all those times for ten year. But she was protecting us. But they asked for dad. And Miles was there. But if she hadn't gone than we wouldn't have had Maggie (god I wish that I had appreciated her more.)

And for god's sake can she not mention Danny every time someone mentions killing the kids that have been turned into killing machines. I mean seriously I know that she is our mom, but she left. And Dad and I raised him until Maggie. I watched over that kid like he was more important than I was. Because he was. To everyone it seemed. Except maybe Maggie. I just. Danny's dead. And he's not coming back. I felt the sob in my throat and swallowed it. Crying about him wouldn't bring him back anymore than it would before Nora had died.

Okay let's get on something else. Can't cry in the open. I need to think of someone else.

Miles. He keeps saying that he doesn't trust Bass. No Monroe. He doesn't trust Monroe. But for some reason I keep on finding myself fighting side by side with Bass or Connor while Miles is somewhere with my mom. Fuck I meant Monroe. It's Monroe. Not Bass, Monroe.

And I'm going in circles. I stopped briefly, checking for patriots, and decided to fuck it. Just keep going. I'll be somewhere when I get done. And whichever mercenary that was following me could bring me back. Or I'd just track myself. It apparently wasn't hard. I mean, Monroe did it easily (according to him.) Well that was

One hour later...

I should probably start to find my way back. It's starting to get dark, and while it's hot as balls in the day its absolutely freezing at night. And I'm not even walking straight at this point. Where the fuck am I?

Before I go back though, what the fuck is up with Monroe. Yeah, I screwed his son. Thought it was funny. Just a scratched itch. I will never tell Bass it because I kind of wanted to screw him. Ever. And now since I screwed Connor that would never happen anyway. I think. Is it wrong for me to still want him. Bass. Then I said it out loud. Then I said Monroe. Rolling the words over my tongue. Smoothing them out. I did it over and over, trying to pick which to call him. And then I heard a stick snap behind me.

"Yes?," an amused looking Bass.

"How long have you been following me?," I slurred haphazardly. Stumbling.

"The whole time. I saw your guy leave camp. Didn't know he was following you until I caught up with him. But I sent him back to camp a few hours ago."

I just stared at him.

"Well, why were you saying my name?"

"I'm trying to decide what to call you."

He's staring back at me like I'm crazy. Hell I probably am. I'm supposed to hate him.

"Well?," Bass asked.

"I. Bass. I'm going to call you Bass now. I mean, I trust you with my life. I should be calling you your first name at least. And since your first name has three syllables, Bass it is."

He gave me a funny look and turned away. "So, you ready to head back?," he said while glancing back to me. Then the ground shifted under my feet.

"Jeez, Charlie," he muttered, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet, "did you finish that whole bottle?"

"Not yet," I said, happily. The warm buzzy feeling that had surrounded me for the past few hours was still going strong, and the sloshing sound I heard as he pulled me up backed up my statement. As soon as I was on my feet I swayed slightly, leaning against him. "Wanna help?," I smirked up at him.

Bass face ran from confused to angry. "Really Charlotte? You were in bed with my son less than two weeks ago. And now you're hitting on me?"

I pushed away from him. "Just tryin' to be friends. And I just fucked him cause he was there, but I didn't think that I'd have to justify myself to you.," I said, staring at him, "Why do you care about that? It's not like I stole your favorite sword or something," I added, grumbling under my breath.

"Why do I care? I care because I'm supposed to keep you safe." Bass' eyes started to water, their clear blue boring into my own. It felt like he could see into my soul. Thoughts raced through my head. "I care because I need you... to fight with. I need someone I trust."

"What about Connor?," I questioned, suddenly needed that answer more than I needed to breathe.

Bass exhaled laughingly, "I don't know if I can trust him. And I sure as hell have done enough to make him not trust me. I need someone who can look past that."

"And you decided that this person was me."

"No you did. I know that you will probably never be able to forgive me, but you'll fight by my side. I trust you to come back for me. And I need someone who'll do that."

I'm not sure what to think. I think that we trust each other. He's right. I probably won't every forgive him fully, but I know that I can work with him. I know that he'll save me. And maybe I can keep Bass grounded. Maybe. He'll fight for me, treat me as an equal, and right now that's good enough.

"Okay."

I reach out my hand and we shake. He turns and we walk side by side back in the direction of the safe house.

"So next time you need to get away, can you try to do that closer to home base? 'Cause this is going to take a while," Bass grinned over at me as we fall into an easy pace, "and goddammit I've walked enough in the past week to last me a lifetime"

"Yeah I can do that," I laughed, passing him the bottle. It was going to be a long walk.