Connor was getting more than a little sick of Charlie always acting so condescending about how he wanted to get the republic back with his father. So when she asked him, for what felt like the millionth time, whether Monroe was really someone he wanted to follow he snapped back, "You sure are critical of me for someone who followed him in the militia."

"I what?" Charlie asked as she let out a laugh in disbelief. "You're delusional."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," he argued. "I've seen your wrist. I know what that M on it means."

"You complain so much about how I don't know you, but you know nothing about me," Charlie hissed out at him. "I wasn't in the militia." She turned away and hesitated for a second before turning back to him, even angrier. He'd gone a step too far this time, so she added, "I got this from one of the militia's training camps. I was there to break out a boy who got captured and taken there. He was younger than I was. Had a whole bunch of little kids without any parents that he was taking care of. And the militia just took him. But that's different than the Patriot reeducation camps, right? Because not drugging and brainwashing them makes it okay?"

Connor remained silent with his jaw still clenched, but she noticed his eyes flicker past her to his father for just a second before they refocused on her.

"You think I wanted this branded on my wrist?" Charlie demanded as she held her arm up to show off the M that marked her like cattle. "When I got this I was held down, begging them not to do it. And not once has he-" she paused for a second to glare over at an annoyed looking Monroe. "Not once has he asked me about how I got it because he's still trying to live in his little bubble of crazy where he can ignore just how badly things went last time and pretend that getting the republic back isn't the worst possible thing that he could do."

Connor looked annoyed, as if all of this was her fault for telling him rather than his father's, and shot her a glare before turning as if to walk away. She wasn't finished though, so she quickly spoke up again.

"You're not the only one who went years without a mom because of him. I thought my mom was dead for years because he kept her prisoner for so long," she insisted. "And you think you're the only one who grew up hiding from him and not even knowing it? I lived in this tiny little cul-de-sac with my dad and brother that was supposed to be safe. But nothing was really safe in the Monroe Republic, was it? The militia still came and took women. Everyone was so scared that they never even made a move to stop it. And the older I got, the more afraid I was that I was going to get taken next time they came around."

She was getting herself more and more worked up and she was sure that Monroe's reaction would be priceless, but she didn't turn to check. Instead, she kept her focus on Connor, boring through his skull with her glare. She was sick of him trying so hard to get the republic back when she didn't think that he even understood how terribly it had gone the time before. That was part of why she wanted so badly to make him understand. Besides, she had been frustrated enough lately that she realized now that she had been needing to vent for a while. She knew that she was getting emotional and there were tears forming in her eyes, but she made no move to wipe them away.

"I didn't end up getting taken though. Instead the militia came to take my dad. He was willing to go, but my brother tried to stop them. So they shot my dad and took my brother instead. I came back just in time to watch my father die with his blood all over my hands. And then I lost the closest thing that I'd had to a mom for years on the way to get Danny back."

Charlie found herself enjoying the way that Connor was beginning to squirm under her gaze. He couldn't quite hold eye contact with her for more than a few seconds before his eyes flickered around at the others, none of whom seemed to be willing to provide any of whatever kind of answers he was expecting them to give.

"Do you know how many people I saw die, within less than a year, because he was in charge of the republic?" She demanded. She didn't wait to see if Connor was going to answer or not before she went on. "Or, I know. Why don't we talk about the lines of slaves that I saw dragging an old helicopter? Whenever one of them fell from exhaustion, some militia member who was sitting on his ass, riding a horse, would shoot them and the rest were expected to just step over the body and keep going. But your dad needed that helicopter because he was crazy enough to think that he was going to get the power back on and have control of it. And when he did get his hands on some power, he used it to completely destroy rebel camps. Like the rebels weren't already at enough of a disadvantage with only the occasional gun to use against the entire militia."

Connor finally spoke up to interrupt her then as he questioned, "What do you mean he got some of the power back?"

He glanced around, primarily back and forth between Charlie and his father, but no one was offering him any answers to that. Rachel was still watching, tight-lipped, and Miles clearly couldn't care less about answering Connor's questions. Meanwhile, his father was just staring at him in shock with those sad eyes that were usually reserved for a fatherly guilt-trip.

It was Charlie who spoke up again, but she was too wrapped up in her own rant to take a break and to explain to him how the pendants had been able to bring back the power in a certain area for a brief amount of time.

"He used my brother as collateral to make my mom build him an amplifier that would give him enough power to use his helicopter," she continued. "The same helicopter that he sent after us after we got Danny back. The same helicopter that killed my brother when we had barely just gotten him back." She paused for a moment. "The same helicopter that he took to Jasper to lure out Miles."

She almost smiled at the look on Connor's face and the way she had captured his attention with the word Jasper. A part of her was enjoying this, watching him finally begin to realize just how brutal his father had been and just how wrong the republic had gone.

"You want the republic back with him so badly?" She questioned. "Well, did he ever tell you about how he locked people from his own hometown in town hall and then had it burned to the ground? Or how everyone in there would have burned to death if Miles hadn't gotten them out? Including your mom." She let out a twisted half-chuckle before adding, "But I guess that wouldn't really change anything considering he still dragged her out into the line of fire with a gun to her head. She was crying and begging to see you one last time while he was screaming about how he was going to shoot her if Miles didn't come out. But it couldn't have been his fault that she got shot by a rebel, right? He only dragged her out there as a human shield in front of the people who he'd driven to become rebels." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she added, "How could he have possibly known she'd get shot?"

Connor looked as if he had been punched hard in the gut. She knew that she should feel bad, but instead she just felt satisfied that she had managed to drive a wedge between him and his father. Maybe now he'd stand a chance of actually being smart enough to give up his dream of the Monroe Republic 2.0.

"I would have rather been tortured to death than joined the militia, which you want to bring back so badly," she spat out at him. "But go ahead, keep trying. I'm sure that your mom would be proud of you for doing everything you can to get back the republic she tried to hide you from."

With that, Charlie turned and shot Monroe a cruel smirk on her way past him as she left them to sort things out on their own.

Connor was desperately looking back and forth, searching for some kind of confirmation or denial of what Charlie had just said. No one would meet his eyes.

Miles, who had looked down at the mention of Emma and not looked back up since, cleared his throat as if he intended to say something. If he had, then he had clearly decided against it since he shifted his weight form foot to foot for a moment before he decided to ditch the uncomfortable situation and walked off in the direction that Charlie had left in.

Meanwhile, Monroe was still staring blankly at where Charlie had been standing in a dumbfounded silence. He couldn't even look over at his son.

Rachel, however, didn't seem nearly as uncomfortable in the tense environment. She was the proudest she had been of her daughter in a long time as she slowly moved to leave. On her way by, she stepped into Bass's line of vision with a smirk placed on her lips and in a sickeningly sweet tone told him, "Looks like you two have some things to talk about."


A/N: Please read and review!