I Don't Remember Loving You
Chapter 1: On the road to Shambala
Folding her arms across her chest, Charlie looked at the men standing across the table from her. "You're kidding, right?"
"This is the plan, Charlie, take it or leave it," Bass replied rocking back on his heel.
"I'll leave it, thank you very much," she hissed at him in outrage, turning her scathing gaze on Miles. "I can't believe you're even considering this!"
Miles glanced at Bass with a sigh as he folded up the map, tucking it into his inner pocket. "The decision's been made Charlie."
Charlie glared at them both. "Well I don't agree with the decision, not that you consulted me in the first place! She's not Nora. She doesn't know what she's doing. She's the reason Nora's dead to begin with, remember that Miles?" Charlie ranted.
"That's enough!" Miles roared as Rachel closed her eyes at the condemnation in her daughter's voice, while Bass looked on silently.
He had known from the get go that she was going to pitch a fit over Rachel's involvement and told Miles so, his friend refusing to believe it would be that big of a problem.
Miles simply couldn't see that Charlie still held her mother responsible for Nora's death after all this time. Or didn't want to.
Charlie was the most forgiving person he knew, having told him straight to his face that she forgave him for everything that had happened with her parents and brother, having killed her own share of father's and brothers along the way. She wasn't any better than him, she reasoned. Just different in her motivations.
But in Nora's death, she remained unwavering.
"This is the plan and that's final," Miles growled, "You can either play ball or stay home."
Charlie arched a brow, as the two most stubborn Matheson's Bass had ever met stared each other down, before suddenly turning on her heel, heading towards the door. "It's your funeral," she snarled over her shoulder, giving her mother a heated look on the way out.
Miles rolled his head on his shoulders. "Rach, you know she didn't mean it," he said, attempting to smooth things over.
Rachel barked a harsh laugh as she headed for the stairs. "Yes, she did and we all know it. I'll be in my room."
Bass blew out a breath. "I'll go talk to Charlie, calm her down. Why don't you go check on Rachel."
Miles nodded tiredly, wondering when Bass had become a better option for Charlie than he or Rachel.
They met in the kitchen around ten, packing a satchel with the explosives they'd be using for this job.
Gene embraced both Charlie and Rachel, making them promise to take care and grabbing Miles by the arm on his way out. "You take care of my girls," he ordered the younger man.
"I always do," Miles assured him with a nod as he hurried to catch up with Rachel who was between the house and the others waiting on him.
They made their way to the edge of the Patriot compound, Miles and Rachel taking only what they needed for the job, leaving the satchel with Charlie and Bass.
"Miles, please," Charlie tried one last time when he and Rachel were ready to go.
"Stick to the plan, Charlie, we'll be back before you know it," he whispered, tilting his chin in Rachel's direction.
Minutes later, Charlie was screaming their names as the tent across the compound exploded. Scrambling up on her hands and knees from where she had been thrown to the ground with Bass, he grabbed at her booted ankle trying to hold her back.
"Charlie! Charlie!" He yelled over the noise, trying to get her attention as they wrestled on the ground, his eyes just as wet as hers.
"No! No!" she screamed back, pummeling his chest with her fists. "We are not leaving them here!" She raged, breaking loose from him. She made it halfway across the compound, blending in thanks to the chaos, before another, stronger explosion rocked the area, throwing them to the ground once again.
Bass lay stunned for a moment before shaking his head, trying to clear his blurry vision and ringing ears, managing to get onto all fours as he searched for Charlie.
He found her lying unconscious on the ground a few yards in front of him, blood trickling from her nose and ears. He looked around frantically, knowing it was only a matter of time before they were discovered and ended up just as dead as Miles and Rachel surely were.
Swinging her over his shoulder, he headed for the shadows, desperate to get them out alive.
Gene was waiting for them when Bass scratched at the back door.
"Thank God," he hissed, letting Monroe in as he glanced at an unconscious Charlie hanging from his shoulder and the empty space behind them. "The Patriots are searching everywhere for you. How did you get back and where's my daughter?" He demanded as he helped Bass lay Charlie down on his triage table.
Bass shook his head, running a hand over his face, speechless, his face saying everything he couldn't.
"They were caught in the explosion," Gene deduced as he began to treat his granddaughter. "Are you alright?" He asked Monroe, pointing at his ear.
Monroe swiped at the sticky, wet blood with a grunt.
"We've got to get you out of here as soon as possible," Gene said matter of factly as he began rattling off instructions to the younger man causing Bass to grab his arm as he treated Charlie.
"What are you talking about, Old Man. She needs to stay with you, in a doctor's care. I know how dangerous a head would like this is. I saw more than a few guys in the Gulf sent home because they weren't right afterwards."
Gene shook him off. "As much as I want to keep her with me, I can't. You've both been declared Enemies of the State by the Patriots. They won't give me a moment's peace, but that's fine," he uttered, "because if they're watching me, they won't be searching for you. Or her."
Gene watched as Monroe looked between him and his granddaughter. "You're all she has left, Sebastian," he said, his voice breaking on a choked back sob.
Bass jerked his head around at the sound of his name coming from Gene's mouth.
"I need for you to get Charlie out of here and to keep her safe. I need to know that you're watching over her since Miles can't. I need to know that at least one of my girls is going to live a long and healthy life."
Bass eyes glistened suspiciously as he place his hands next to Charlie's body, listening to Gene's pleas.
Taking a deep breath, he brushed his eyes. "I need to know how to care for her. I need someplace to take her."
"You leave all that to me." Gene instructed bustling around the room as he wiped away his own tears. "You go upstairs and gather everyone's things. They've already searched the house so they won't know that anything's missing."
Bass carried Charlie from the house out to the wagon in the barn. He piled all of their belongings, along with Rachel and Miles things, beside her as Gene added all the supplies that he could spare.
When they had her tucked in and as comfortable as they could, Gene pulled a ratty, brown envelope out of his pocket shoving it into Bass' hand. "This is the deed to a cabin my Charlotte's parents owned. I've written a letter to the caretaker explaining that I've gifted the property to my granddaughter and her husband," Gene explained, holding out his own wedding band. "Charlie''s already wearing her grandmother's."
Bass grunted, glancing over towards Charlie.
Gene squeezed his shoulder. "You said it yourself. We don't know what kind of shape she's going to be in when she wakes up. I'll wait a few months before I send word to Blanchard letting him know that you're still alive, but In the meantime you promise me that you'll take care of her. Promise me!" Gene demanded in a hoarse whisper.
Bass nodded solemnly taking the ring and slipping it on. "I'll protect her with my life. I swear it."
He would have agreed for no other reason than Miles but gazing down at her as they left Willoughby behind, knew that it went far deeper than that.
She's awake, sitting beside him Indian style, when he opens his eyes in the old broken down barn that he found for them to take shelter in.
"Charlotte," he croaks out, accepting the bottle of water that she hands him. "How are you feeling."
"My head hurts," she says in a low voice as she searches his face.
"That's to be expected. You hit it pretty hard last night."
"Is that why I don't know who you are?" She asks him with just the slightest shake in her voice.
With a groan, Bass lies back covering his eyes with an arm.
"You don't remember me?" He questions even though she just made it abundantly clear that she didn't.
She remains silent, shaking her head even though he can't see her..
He blows out a breath doing his damnedest not to panic. "Do you know who you are?"
"Charlie."
Bass peeks out from under his arm to study her. "That's good. That's real good, Charlie. What else do you remember?"
She bites her lips, scanning the interior of the barn in the waning daylight. "The last thing I remember is the Militia coming to our village, but, I've been outside and this doesn't look anything like home."
"Well, hell." Bass muttered as he sat up, propping one elbow on a knee and running the other hand through his hair.
"That was three years ago, Charlie."
Stunned, Charlie pushed to her feet. "Three years ago? How is that possible? How could I have possibly forgotten three years of my life? How could I have forgotten getting married? Where's my Dad and Maggie and Danny?" She demands, flinging up her hand where her grandmother's wedding ring sits, a perfect match to the band that encircles his finger like a ring of fire.
"Come here, Charlotte," Bass said calmly, holding out his hand as he encouraged her to sit down beside the fire he's begun working on. "We don't need you getting too excited just yet. Your Grandpa said something like this might happen and chances are your memories will come back on their own."
"My Grandpa?" Her voice is hushed in disbelief.
"Yeah. Gene Porter. Your Mom's Dad."
Charlie nods, waving her hand in understanding. "But Grandpa lives in Texas. I've haven't been out of Wisconsin since I was eleven."
"Welcome to Texas," Bass answers with a sketchy smile causing her to gape out the opened barn doors in disbelief.
"Can you stay here and watch the fire?" He asks, pushing to his feet. "I need to…" he trails off as he points outdoors.
He watches as she blushes just enough to put some color into her cheeks before heading towards the door. "Wait!" She calls out just as he passes the door causing him to turn back towards her.
"What's your name?"
"Bass." He says huskily, his eyes turning dark as his name leaves her lips like a prayer.
Deciding to take the risk and stay here overnight, Bass makes her comfortable as their dinner heats over the small fire.
He curses when he digs out the instructions that Gene had hastily written, barely able to make out the words. Crumpling the paper up into a ball, he tosses it into the fire.
"What's wrong?" Charlie asks, tilting her head to get a glimpse of his face.
"Doctor's," Bass gripes, "Blackout or no blackout, their handwriting sucks. I need to look you over, is that okay?" he asks, crouching down in front of her.
"Sure," she agrees, sitting silently as he explores her head with his fingertips, wincing at the face she makes when his fingers brush against the goose egg on her scalp..
"Hurt?"
"It's a little tender," she confirms, her lashes fluttering shut.
He tilts her head to each side, peering into her ears, not seeing any blood or fluids leaking. When he holds her chin between his thumb and forefinger to inspect her pupils, she blushes again.
He drops his fingers like he's been burnt and scoots away quickly.
"Well?" she asks, watching him plate up their dinner, her heart still racing from his nearness. Pressing her hands against her stomach, she wonders if he's always given her butterflies.
"Everything seems fine, except for that bump on your head."
They eat in silence for a while before her curiosity gets the best of her. "How long have we been married?" she asks, setting her fork down on her plate.
Bass chokes on the food in his mouth before managing to swallow. "Not long," is the only response he allows himself to give her, torn between lying and protecting. The twenty-three year old Charlotte Matheson whom he's been fighting beside for over two years is a far cry from the Charlotte Matheson who's never left her small village in Wisconsin. He ignores the frown she gives him as he goes back to his dinner.
"Can you tell me where we're going? There's a lot of supplies in the wagon."
Bass threw a glance back towards the wagon. It was true. Gene had spent an hour shoving everything under the sun into the back of that wagon. "Evidently your great-grandmother didn't die until after the blackout. Gene gave us the deed to her cabin. He thought we'd be happier with a place of our own."
"How long have we been living with my Grandpa?"
"You've been living with him for a few years now. I had an apartment in town."
With a huff of exasperation, Charlie turns her attention back to her dinner not sure what to think about Bass' behavior.
By the time they've finished eating, he feels like a complete heel. Gathering up the dirty dishes, he apologizes. "Look, I'm sorry. The last few days have been a little crazy with you getting hurt and I haven't had much sleep, and now your memory..." he trails off.
Charlie nods solemnly, "I'm so sorry, Bass. I should have realized," she says in a near whisper ducking her head.
And doesn't that just make him feel worse. "We've got a long day on the road tomorrow. Why don't you get our bed straightened out while I take care of the dishes?"
With a nod, she silently turns towards the pile of blankets he had laid her upon, when he simply couldn't go any further without sleep.
After finishing the dishes he does a quick perimeter check before placing the wooden latch over the barn doors.
Back inside, he finds her laid out upon their neatly made pallet staring into the fire. He lays his swords and guns nearby, along with his jacket, happily using the blanket that she's converted into a pillow for them.
"My family's dead, aren't they?" She asks in a small frightened voice, the likes of which he's never heard come out of her mouth before. While he knows some of what she went through on her journey to Chicago and Philly, he doesn't think he's ever realized just how much her quest to rescue her brother affected her until now.
"Yes," he finally replies. "Ben, your father, was murdered by the Militia. I imagine that's why your mind is blocking everything since that event out."
"Danny and Maggie?"
"Danny died later on, fighting for the rebels and Maggie in between the two," Bass answers, watching as her shoulders begin to shake, followed by gut wrenching sobs a few moments later.
Squeezing his eyes shut at the sound, he rolls to his side, reaching out to pull her back against his chest and cries with her, because she has no idea the true depth of her loss. The loss that they share.
She falls asleep in his arms, exhausted from her grief. He can't remember ever seeing her cry, and finds that he wants nothing more than to protect her. He promised Gene that at least one of his girls would live a long and happy life and that was exactly what was going to happen.