Family
As soon as the Nano was deactivated Connor fell like a discarded puppet. Sebastian Monroe's adult son expired in his arms in a little town located in the former state of Idaho. On that day the former dictator finally lost the last member of his family; Connor was the only blood tie he had left. He had lost his parents and his sisters to a drunk driver. He had watched his wife and daughter die in childbirth during the early years of the Blackout. His first love Emma, Connor's mother, got shot because of him. She too, had left this world in his arms. Through it all, the friendship he shared with Miles Matheson had kept him from ending his own life. His brother Miles wasn't dead, but he didn't really want him around anymore. The people surrounding him kept on leaving feet first. Connor's premature demise almost seemed written in the stars. Being an acquaintance of Bass Monroe was bad news.
No one wanted him around. Miles had his own little family with Rachel and Charlie. Hell, even Aaron McGeek and Miss Creepy were part of the Matheson clan now. However, Monroe was not welcome. He was tolerated in the vicinity because his twisted skills made him a useful asset to have for the war against the patriots. Miles wanted the kaki fuckers out the continent and Bass had come back to help the man who had attempted to kill him. Most people thought he had been fighting in order to get his Republic back. Originally, that had been true. But it was no longer the case, especially now that the person to whom he could give it was six feet underground. The ambition was futile and he knew it. He had almost sent half of the North American continent straight to hell the first time around. This was just the type of situation where practice would not make perfect.
He had turned away from his own blood to stay and help Miles and his family. He had chosen Crazy Rachel and Ungrateful Miles over his own boy. Charlie had also, in a way, turned her back on Connor. They used to flirt and smile at each other. Bass knew they fucked regularly in the woods. Truth be told, he was jealous. At the time he had been green with envy. Charlie was not really the reason. Sure, she was gorgeous, young, and fascinating, but that was not it. He desired the intimacy and carefree attitude they had. He would not talk of love; what Connor and Charlie had was not love. Bass would not even admit to himself that it was really the thing he craved over everything else: love and acceptance.
Anyway, at some point whatever had been between his son and Charlie had fizzled out. To be more precise, she had stopped finding Connor charming. Bass had noticed it too: the initial charisma and allure that emanated from his boy was, in fact, a cover. Wearing a mask everyday had been necessary during the years he spent surviving in the Nunez drug cartel. Once you took off the mask Connor Bennett lost most of his appeal. Naturally, that made no difference to Bass. Nevertheless, Charlie wasn't so keen on going steady with a hardened killer with childhood issues.
Booze wouldn't give you shit except a headache but the illusion of contentment it showed was pretty good. It lulled him to sleep every goddamn night. There was nothing left for him now. There was zilch he could hope for now that he was truly alone. The patriots were beaten and the Nano had been shot to hell by Rachel. The bitch had miraculously survived but his son had passed away. Fucking Blondie always lives to tell the tale. The Mathesons and their bottomless pit of sheer luck made him sick.
The tipsy blonde man was sitting on the front porch of his newly-bought house located on the main street of Willoughby. He was splitting his busy schedule between sipping on moonshine and watching people walk by. Apparently some local girl was getting married today. The whole town was partying in the square. Rachel came by to look down on him: a favourite activity of hers.
"You look like hell. Got no more puppies to drown, Bass?" His nickname rolled off her tongue, laced with poison and spite. She looked him up and down, taking in his depraved appearance.
"Nope. I've already moved on to cracking kittens' skulls against the wall. What about you? Found new ways to make him miserable lately?"
"I don't make Miles miserable, Bass. You did though. Have a great day."
She turned on her heels and went to join the ongoing party.
"Fuck you too!"
Why did she even bother acknowledging him? Leave me the fuck alone!
Later he saw Charlie leave the wedding reception. She didn't stop to talk to him but he saw that she hesitated before setting her course for home. The young woman cast him a worried look before continuing on her way. Pity reflected in someone's eyes was the worst emotion to look at. A wave of self-loathing hit him and he started gulping more eagerly.
He woke up the next morning on the same old porch sitting in the same old rocking chair. Children going to school whispered gleefully and pointed filthy fingers before running away giggling. When had he officially become the town drunk? The headache threatened to split his skull. He wobbled around back to pump some clean drinking water. He felt severely dehydrated. A few minutes later he was sitting on the stairs in front of the house, drinking water and trying to eat some breakfast. His stomach was rebelling, twisting uncomfortably. Drinking got less and less fun after you hit forty. And the hooch he drank was not kind on the digestive system.
Charlie walked by again. She didn't appear much better than he was. In fact, she looked like she was really to double over and throw up right there on the street. He almost felt nauseous in sympathy.
She went into the apothecary shop that two old sisters had opened across the street from his house. They sold remedies made from plants and gave medical advice. These days, doctors and pharmacists were difficult to find. And, naturally, industrial chemistry labs were pretty much a thing of the past.
This time she actually stopped by to talk to him on her way back.
"Kid, you don't look so good today. Had too much fun last night?"
"You're the one to talk. I still look much better than you do. Bass, when was the last time you ate a decent meal?"
"I don't know. But then again, I don't remember a fair share of my existence these days."
"Don't go anywhere. I'm coming over to cook."
"I really don't need your pity, Charlotte. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you left me alone."
"Who said I'm doing this out of pity? Have you ever tried living in the same house as Miles and my mom? I need a fucking break here. Let me have a meal at your house."
"Ah, fuck. I guess I get it: I'm not exactly part of your mother's fan club. Alright, but I got nothing to eat in the house."
"Yeah, I kind of assumed as much. I'll be right back."
She came back a few minutes later with groceries. She didn't wait for him to invite her in and went right to work in the kitchen. He followed her inside to fill up on alcohol. He slid the glass bottle towards the young woman but she pushed it away with a grimace.
"No, thanks"
"And I thought young people handled their liquor better than us old geezers."
"You're not old, Monroe. And you don't handle your liquor. At this point, it's more your liquor that is handling you."
She was right, but Bass was not about to point it out.
Having company was a new and welcome occurrence. He was not going to drive away the one person who didn't insult him and actually spoke to him in a pleasant manner. They ate and spent the rest of the day lazing around on the porch, too miserably hot and full to move out of the shade.
~Two weeks later~
The fucking ice queen had gone too far this time. He was leaving for good this time. Miles could go to hell with his Barbie pain-in-the-ass. They didn't want him around? So he was a burden and an unwelcome reminder of the failed past? Fine, he was getting the fuck away from this godforsaken place. The Florida beaches sounded amazing right now, and rich Mexico too for that matter. Booze, parties, drugs, and whores: all the things a man needs to have fun before falling face down from liver failure.
He went back to his house to pack up the necessities. He didn't need much and all of it would have to fit in a backpack so most of his belongings would be left behind, including his real estate property. He suddenly got an idea and stopped packing to go outside and in the direction of the Mathesons' house.
Charlie wasn't home. Rachel, however, seemed absolutely delighted to hear he was moving.
"I'm giving Charlie the deed to the house. Make sure you give this to her, Rachel."
"Why would I do you any favours?"
"You're not doing me a favour, you fucking ice cube. I'm doing you one."
"Oh, how do you figure that?" she replied in an ironic tone.
"Giving Charlie space away from your constant nagging and bitching might actually save your relationship."
The woman's face suddenly got red. She snatched the paper away from his hand and slammed the door in his face.
"Fuck you, Bass!"
That meant she knew he was right. But now he could leave knowing his only ally would get what he couldn't give his own kid: an inheritance of sorts. He didn't feel like saying goodbye to anyone else so he left. The blonde man went back to his house for packing and was ready to go half an hour later.
Bass's horse was a wild-tempered animal he had bought from Texan breeders. The mount needed a firm hand to thrive. Bass rode out of Willoughby with the intention of selling his ride in the next major town. He didn't want to stand out too much in the crowd of lone travellers. Besides, he wanted money to spend once he reached his first stop on the way to Hell: New Vegas. And he had all the time in the world to get there on foot.
Charlie caught up to him two miles outside of town.
"You are leaving?!" she sounded really mad at him.
"I am"
She gave him a look of reproach.
"You could have told me you were thinking of leaving."
"I didn't make the decision that long ago. I'm really fucking tired of dealing with your family."
"Mom told me you gave me the house. Do you often gift property to people you don't want to "deal with""?
She seemed upset to Bass. Charlie was pretty much the only person he liked in that town. He didn't like that she looked unhappy.
"I said I was tired of your family, Charlotte. You are an exception. I gave you the house so you could breathe away from your family. You should make a life of your own."
She grabbed his arm to make him halt.
"Stop for a minute. I thought we had become friends or, at the very least, friendly acquaintances. And I have to find out from my mom that you are skipping town?"
"I'm sorry. I should have told you. But I was angry."
"Are you still angry now?"
"I think I'm always going to be angry at her, Charlie. And we are never going to like each other."
He stared into space for a minute before adding:
"And there is nothing left for me here. My son is gone. I've got nothing tying me down."
"But Miles is still there."
"He's not the same man when he's with her. Miles picked your mom. And they don't want me around."
"I want you around."
"You don't need someone like me around. Even as a friend. I'm no good to anyone."
"There was a time when I believed that. But you are more than your façade, Bass!"
"It doesn't matter, Charlie. I'm going to be alone from now on. You, on the other hand, are going to meet someone and start a family. Don't worry, you'll be surrounded by people you love."
"I can't do that."
"What? Be loved?"
"No. Meet a guy and get married."
"That is bullshit. Anyone would be lucky to have you."
"You didn't use to say that when I was with your son."
"Well, that was a complicated time. I only minded at the beginning, you know."
"I'm glad you don't think I'm so bad."
He gave a short laugh.
"And I'm going to need you to come back to Willoughby with me, Monroe."
He gave her a confused look that bordered on worried.
"Where are you getting at, Charlie? You do know I'm old enough to be your dad, right?"
Her entire face turned bright red.
"Oh my god, you think I mean…? I just need you around as my friend."
"Good. Glad we are clear on this. And it's nothing personal. You know you are great, right?"
"Thank you. I'm really glad you think so."
He got the feeling she wanted to say something else.
"I feel like we're talking in circles. What is it you want to tell me?"
"I really need you to come back."
She sounded very emotional, almost tearful actually. He looked at her intensely.
"Why?"
"You are not alone, Bass. I'm here. And we are going to need you soon."
"We?"
"Yeah, me and your grandchild."
She looked embarrassed but she smiled and looked ahead at the sunset. The bright orange hue was bathing the entire valley and making the wild Texan landscape more beautiful than ever.
Bass was staring at her with his mouth slightly open. After a minute he closed it and turned his horse around. Charlie followed him.
"Good thing the house has spare bedrooms"
Charlie didn't see his expression when he spoke but the tone of his voice suggested a smile.