So yes, I know..you know me from a lot of Charloe stories. But I got a question about this story and I wanted to write it. I have a soft spot for Connor and for what happened in his life. This is not an anti-Bass story, I could never do that, I love the character way too much for that.

This story starts with a day in Jasper, twelve years ago. It starts with Emma Bennett, and Bass and Miles.

It is a story about Connor and Charlie in the episodes between Mexico and the last episode. There will be Connor, there will be Charlie and there will be Charlie and Connor together...

What happened between them?

In this first chapter, we start with a look into the past, a look into what happened between Emma and Bass. It is an introduction to the rest of the story...

If you don't like reading about Connor and Charlie than...this story is not for you :) If you do want to read more... welcome! I will update soon if you want to, and work on my other story, Who do you really want too ( which is a Charloe story)! I will update there soon too!

Twelve years ago

Emma Bennett was standing in front of the kitchen window of her small home in Jasper. Her home was not far from the town square. She looked at the steps surrounding a statue that they just as their place to meet and she could almost see them there. Her thoughts were with two men. And then just with him. Only him.

It was like moments in time that have flew by since then were compressed and she could see them both. Younger, happier, filled with friendship for the other, filled with dreams for a future that was somewhere out there.

She thought about the man she should have married. And she thought the man she had lost her heart to. She thought about gentle brown eyes and intense sweet deep blue ones. She thought about Miles Matheson, the man she should have married. And she thought about Sebastian Monroe, Bass, the men she ended up falling for.

It happened one night in a dark kitchen of her parent's home. Emma had felt Bass' eyes on her so many times, he had been on her mind too much. She had sat down on those steps and she been in Miles' arms, but Bass' eyes were there for her to meet when she looked up.

It was not fair to Miles, but one night, it had happened. She found herself alone in an empty kitchen. Bass had looked at her like she was the only one that mattered. Bass had kissed her. Bass had put her on the kitchen counter, when his hands had been flowing under her skirt. His fingers had moved over her smooth legs. Touching her, giving her something she had never felt. It had been sweet, and new, and exciting and awkward. And something that never happened again.

Not much later, she had said goodbye to both Miles and Bass when they went to Basic . Two young men had shoved their backs over their shoulders, when they went into the world outside their little town that had been their world for so long.

Emma had said goodbye to Miles, but had felt Bass' eyes on her, again. She had almost blushed. Later, she had cried herself to sleep in her room. Later she had found out that she had been pregnant. Pregnant with his child. Connor. Her parents had never allowed her to tell him, and she had gone through fight after fight with her parents, who were livid when they had found out.

So she carried her unborn child with her, kept him safe and give birth to him.

She had seen Bass one more time. It had been one the darkest days in town history, when his completely family was killed in a car crash.

He had returned from base together with Miles. She had been in the back of the small church, while she watched Bass with board shoulders hanging low. Tears in his eyes on the first bench, Miles sitting next to him. Both men did not speak. Bass was completely broken with grieve, staring straight ahead during warm speeches from people that remembered his family in their stories. Bass had stood there too, his voice broken and low and rough with loss and pain. Grieve in the line of his faces. He talked about his dad, his mom and his two little sisters, with so much love that Emma had cried silent tears when she had listened to Bass. Bass knew how to love. Be there for everyone, be there for Miles, for his dad, mom, his little sisters.

When the service ended and it was time to walk Bass' family to their final resting place, Bass stood up and almost went to his knees. It was Miles that embraced him for a long time. Bass' sobs had echoed through the church before he slowly had entangled himself from Miles and Benn Matheson had placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

Both Bass and Miles had held their shoulders under the heavy coffin of his dad and had walked out of the church with slow steps. She had stood there, on the cemetery, again in the back, watching how Bass tried to say goodbye. How he struggled. She had hugged him, quickly, when friends of his parents had stood close to them both. Bass had buried his nose in her hair. She wished she could have held in forever, taking in his scent that she had almost forgotten but remembered now. But Connor, he was at home, and she had no idea what to do, what to say. This was not the moment. Maybe that moment would never come. So she kissed him on his cheek, had whispered in his ear she loved him and went home.

She went back to gently place fresh flowers at their graves, long after Bass returned to base. She still did that, every week. It was the last thing she could do for the man that was out of her life now for years. She missed him.

Connor, her son and Bass' son, was now twelve years old and there was so much of him in their child, that is was painful sometimes to see. Connor reminded her of Bass. In so many ways. His wild curls, his intense gaze, the way he walked.

Bass. Or Sebastian Monroe. President to the Republic she currently lived in. She wondered what it would be like. To see him now. Would she see something of the man, of the boy, she once fell in love with?

He was ruling his Republic with a s steal grip. With growing violence. Things were turning around for the worse. Rebels had started to form larger groups, fighting both The Republic, but mostly the men in charge. General Matheson and General Monroe. Emma felt the change in the land around her. In the people. And her mother's heart told him, that Connor, the son of the president was not safe. Not now. Not anymore.

And that is what brought her to write a letter one day to Miles. They were still friends, although Bass had cut his ties with the town completely. It had been a hard letter to write. But she would keep her child safe, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sending him far away. From his home, his friends, from his school, from the only town and life he has ever known. Away from her.

This day had started like any other Monday. She woke up her son, made him breakfast. She drank a cup of tea from a mug that belonged to her mother once. It was old, and with little cracks in the ceramics. The tea was warm. Her fingers are around the mug, but the tea is still untouched. She put back a lock of golden red amber hair behind her ear

Today she had to do what no mother should do. She had prayed over and over again, asking for wisdom. Asking to a whole lot of darkness during long steepness night if this is indeed what is best for her child, for her son.

But she feared for him, what will happen to him. If he would come to take him away. Not that she could blame him, she kept him hidden from him. What will happen if Rebels would come to take Connor and use him against his father.

No one knew about Bass. She told Connor, as she did to everybody, that his father was somebody else.

She had packed some things for Connor. One back, some of his personal belonging and one picture of him and her, when he was a couple of weeks old, safely laying on her chest. She looked at the picture and pushed tears away. Not now, she told herself.

She told Connor he would stay with his uncle Gary and aunt Susan for a while. Although she did not know how long that while would be. She watched the sadness and fear fall over his face, and he had gotten quiet, when she watched him struggle with the slow realisation that they would say goodbye soon.

A knock on the door. A man in front of her she had seen in so long. Her son now crying, trying to plead with his eyes to let him stay. Connor asking her what he did wrong. Miles who moved his head away, and was trying to keep his face in a straight line when Emma hugged Connor one more time, explaining to him it would not be forever, just for now. Telling him she loved him, she believed in him and they would see each other soon. That last lie almost drove her to her knees, but she knew there was no going back now.

It was Miles that cleared his throat, put his hand on Connor's shoulder and told the kid that they would have to go. Connor looked at her one more time, confused and so lost. Her hands cupped Connor's face, kissed him one more time and told him she loved him.

And that everything would be fine. She promised. That's what she told him. She promised.

She watched her son and Miles walk away from the small house.

'Forgive me,' A whisper from her lips, when she closed her eyes, when a slow tear stared to move along her cheek. She looked at her son. At his dark brown curls, his eyes. Taking in every detail of her child until they are almost out of sight.

Connor looked back one more time and Emma did her best to smile. She tried to send him courage and love and ask him for forgiveness that she knew she will probably would never get. She stood there for a long time, when both Miles and her son, her only son, were out of sight. Emma did not move when she felt the emptiness off the house behind her pressing on her already. The taste of salty tears on her lips.

Forgive me.

Twelve years later

Connor walked close to Miles Matheson. Many years had passed, but here he was. Again. His boots hitting the ground under him. The sun was burning in his neck and early this morning they had passed the Mexican border. Crossing it meant leaving Mexico behind, leaving the cartel behind. Leaving everything he had come to know behind.

Miles was walking ahead, while the blond psycho lady that introduced herself as Rachel Matheson, was walking closely. Connor felt Rachel's eyes on him, aimed with something cold that already rubbed Connor the wrong way.

He remembered Miles. He remembered the way he felt when he saw him for the first and last time. He had remembered him when Miles Matheson stood in the local bar in front of him again all of sudden. That was now almost a week ago. And with him, a piece of his past walked in.

Connor remembered an old life, that was tucked far away in his memory. A town he used to call his home. People that had been his friends. His old school. Little bits of time that were echoing in his mind. He remembered her, his mom. A day where she had hugged him goodbye, told him he would have to away for while. He remembered her golden red hair, he remembered her smile. But she was slowly fading, and he wondered if he remembered her, or the version of her on the picture he carried with him in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Remembered her. Emma. His mom. The woman who gave him life and his name.

He remembered.

And the day she had promised him everything would be fine. She promised. He could still here the words he had been clinging on to from the day he had gotten on the road with Miles.

And now, so many years later, he left a life behind him again. Because with Miles, his dad had showed up. His dad that turned out to be THE Sebastian Monroe. Connor had laughed at him, when his dad had stood in front of him in that same bar. Telling him he was his dad that his dad had been a mechanic from East Lansing, when his dad had been telling him what Emma told him had been a lie. Telling him Emma, his mom, had been dead. Bass had promised him a Republic, a promise of another life.

And when the man he had seen as a father for years now, had betrayed him, he had no other choice than to go with his dad. Than to follow that promise.

To cling on to that promise. Again.

Bass walked a little bit behind his son. His son. His kid. He still has to get used to the whole damn idea. His kid here. His blood. His family. He had been watching him. He had tried to understand what it would be like, meeting the kid he had wanted to meet for so long now. When he finally stood before him, with Miles being his fucking amused self behind him, the dickhead, he had only being able to watch Connor. So much of Emma but when the kid spoke, so much of him too.

It was past noon and they were on their way back to Willoughby. Bass watched Rachel, her blue bitch eyes glued to his son for a while. If Rachel wanted to be a bitch to him, fine. But she would leave his kid the hell alone.

He moved a little faster and walked next to Connor.

'You're okay kid?'

Bass patted Connor's shoulder.

'I'm fine,' Connor grumbled.

'Good,' Bass said with a faint grin.

Connor nodded at his dad, and kept his eyes on the changing landscape in front of him. He could feel the sweat on his back.

They were on their way to a small town he had never heard of. Somewhere in the landscape before them, Willoughby was waiting for them.

Hey everyone, thanks for reading! This chapter focussed on Emma's story, and the first part of Connor and Bass time together on the road, because I wanted to work on and write about that back story. This chapter is an introduction, a start to this story. We will meet Charlie and the rest in the next! Love from Love!