This piece takes place right after the events of another piece I have written, called 'To the moon and back.' A piece where Rachel has to let go and dies. With Miles, Charlie and Bass around her. It is hours after her mom has died when Charlie starts to feel what truly happened. And how truly alone she is now. But is she alone as she thinks she is?
Run and crash, in his arms
She walks. And then the walking turns into running. And she hears behind her that she is not running alone. The fields around their safe house are wide and dark, no moon there to shine some light. She crosses a field and sees trees in the distance. The shadows of trees against a black night. Shadows that can soak her up if she lets them. And maybe she can outrun everything she is trying to outrun there in the she runs, through endless fields.
It is like that day when she tracked down a wagon with bounty hunters and with Monroe in the back. She had to track him down through a forest in the deep of the night. He had escaped from the wagon. She had followed him into the woods on her right. Him running before her.
Only now and only this time things are reversed. She takes the lead. She tries to outrun it all. Her grieve, but also him.
Charlie had been sitting silently near a small fire that was burning hollowly in the fireplace of the small kitchen inside the old farm they stayed in for the night. Miles had been drinking himself into a deep nothingness coma, outrunning his grieve for now. Unable for her to reach him now. She had looked into the fire, sitting on some meaningless chair. Dull grieve had crashed open in front of that fire. And then, Charlie had not been able to take the thought that with her mom, the last family member of the memories from a home in Chicago is now gone.
The panic of that deep pool of emotions that had overrun her had made her push herself up from her place near the fire. His low exhausted voice had called out for her through the night air. But she had already been far from the porch he had been standing on. Charlie had not been able to turn around and face him. So she had started to walk, to the line of trees. She had started to walk faster. To the darkness between the trees. And the walking had started into running. Maybe that was in her Matheson DNA. Run, run like hell and do not look back.
So she had walked outside the kitchen, away from Miles and him. Away from grieve.
She is out of breathe but keeps pushing herself. She hears him breathe behind her. So she quickens the pace of her boots in the dark.
Bass carefully places his boots on the muddy ground under him, his large boots hitting the ground under him. He had watched Charlie, he had not once let her go with his eyes since he had watched her say her goodbye with Miles. He had watched his brother deal with his pain as long as he could for Charlie, until Miles had lost the battle and had drowned his grieve in whiskey until he had passed out and Bass had to drag him to a matress he found in a bedroom upstairs.
So when Charlie had gotten up from her chair and had started to walk out of the kitchen with a look in her eyes that had made him feel scared out of his damn mind, it had grabbed his attention from his place in the living room. He had followed her with his eyes. He had followed her out here, out into the dark night and long muddy fields. He had barked her name in frustration from his place on the porch. HIs voice rough with hurt for her. Her name too harsh in the silent air. She had heard him, he fucking knew she did. But the hollow arch of her shoulders had ignored him. She had walked away from him. He had followed. She had started to run. So had he.
Bass watches her, his eyes narrowing to see her in the darkness of the night. The moon comes out from dark heavy clouds, giving just enough light to see her. He feels an old battle wound in his thigh hurt like hell when there is a rock he did not see on time and he is almost losing his balance. Fuck, he is Sebastian Monroe. He does not do losing his balance. But with her, there is a whole new set of rules.
'Dammit,' he curses at himself and the rock, although it is more a curse of being unable to get to her and sooth some of her darkest pain.
He is worried up to the fucking point where there is acid bile moving deep inside his gut, and even if he tried to shove it all out, when it comes to Charlotte Matheson, he is a fucking goner. She is his family, she is blue eyes. She is life. He fucking cannot stand to see anything happen to her. Because hell, he knows. He knows what is in her heart. She survived, the rest of her family gone. And he sees that kicking in, right in front of him.
When she finally has to slow down, Charlie feels anger for herself for not having enough energy to keep on going Tears and grieve are catching up.
Bass sees her body break, slowly. He watches the anger go out of her running as Charlie slows down. When he has reached her and she is stumbling he reaches out for her in one quick primal instinct reach of his arm, his arm around her middle, his hand on her belly. He curses again, this time only in his mind. Fuck, he can feel her misery in her body now it is close to his for a second.
Charlie pushes him away with everything she has. A first heart wrenching sob coming out of the back of her throat. She is somehow shocked and pissed all at once. Pissed for her mother leaving her the first time. Pissed because of the affair with Miles that came to light. Pissed because her mom rarely listened. More rage for the woman and mother daring to leave her again tonight.
Grieve tried to catch her first, but it is the rage now that makes her not being able to feel him here with her, in the way he is standing right next to her. She does not need comfort. She needs someone to rage against. So she pushes Bass again. And again.
Bass watches her with so much pain in his chest that he has trouble catching his breath. He feels her fists against his chest, he sees the devastating rage in her eyes. He knows he still has to make up for so much. For so fucking much.
And her, Charlie, she has always demanded more from him. Respect, awe, desire. Everything he should not fucking feel for her. He owes her so much, things he cannot give her back because she does not even know she has given him herself. He has much to make up for. And she will probably not let him close, she will probably rage on. She does not want him here. He fucking knows. But he will not run anymore. He never ran from her. Even when she is pissed or hating him or is lashing out and ramming her grieving enraged fists into his chest. He stands tall, taking her each and every punch.
He soaks up every agonizing second with his jaws locked to give her back something she deserves.
It is the reason why he is here. To take all her anger and grieve. To be here for her. To show him he does care, that he does know love and family. It always has been everything to him.
With every punch Charlie realizes her mom is really gone. And that the anger is here to stay. She takes a deep breath before another punch as Bass stands right in front of her. Not fighting back, just standing there. She thinks about the words of love Rachel had for her, how much honest love there had been in the end. The rage will stay for their complicated relationship. But some love starts to shine through.
The grieve catches up with the rage. She feels exhausted all of a sudden. It amkes her take a step back, her fists sore for making contact with his chest over and over again.
Charlie looks at him. He is still there. She does not want him here. She needs him to go. So he cannot be for her what she is afraid of what he can be for her. But the amount of pain in his eyes, the amount of strength in his jaw line and chest are too much. And when she locks eyes with him, she cannot hold back.
'She was the last one...' It is barely a whisper. 'She is the last part of home...and.. I. She left me...and I cannot..I am still here and she...' The look in her eyes is a lost and wild one.
She breaks through her knees with tears. It is the moment Bass catches her and pulls her up his tall wide hard body. He is a never ending wall of support and hard strength and he can handle her weight and the burden of her tears with ease.
He does not stop until he feels Charlie against his chest. He holds her and let her go through a wave of tears and sobs. He has to tell the soldier inside of him to stay put and stay on his damn feet. He lets her grab his shirt, he lets her burry her head in the nook his neck, he lets her tears soak in his shirt.
Bass starts to cry, salty tears attacking the blue of his eyes, thick tears rolling down his cheeks. She is saying and thinking and feeling every fucking thing that crashed through his mind, the moment he had to walk from base to get to the airport with Miles to fcatch a flight back home. A home where no one was left of his family. A home that already was not his home, not the one he knew and loved. With his sweet mom, his caring father, his sweet sisters, Angela and Claire. He broke down too, just like her, just like this. Raging fists against someone else's chest. But it had been Miles, Miles, who had grabbed him and held him close until fists of anger had turned into deep hurt.
He feels how Charlie grabs his arm, her fingers encircling the leather while her head is tucked under his chin. He had seen Miles hold her like this, once. He remembers longing from that trust from her. And now she is, here. Her hair under his chin and he can finally give her something, he can finally be something and someone to her.
Charlie cries like she has not cried in so long. And through the grieve, through the cries, there is his warm scent. The scent of his skin. The fabric of his shirt. His hands and arms around her. His chest for her to lean against.
He swallows, his heart raw and open. 'She is not the last one Charlie..' His voice is close to her ear.
He can feel her listening.
'Miles is here..' And then he needs to take a fucking breathe. 'And I...I am here.' His voice sounds low and there is a low breathe that escapes his chest.
He knows he is playing with fire. And his heart is a damn mess for needing to be this man for her and being afraid to say the wrong thing to her. Apparently whatever the hell is happening and her tears and sobs and her warm body wrapped against his chest and shirt so close he can feel her tremble and breathe, makes his heart reckless. But he needs her to know.
Charlie feels him breathe, as his scent is still so close.
'You are not alone baby.' His voice is rough and so low and so him, so like the man who he had almost forgotten, that it almost frightens him.
Charlie hears him, hears his words as they are warmth through cold tears. She just moves her fingers under his jacket as she pulls him close. Holding on to words she knows are the truth. Holding on the man that is offering them.
When she thinks he is about to let go of her and leave her. When she is so sure he will step back and she has to leave his warmth and body, while her whole body is needing to stay where she is, with him, he just moves his arms and her in them.
Bass hooks one arm under her knees and the other one lands against her back. She is being lifted up and she looks at his face. At his beard. At his jaw line. Moustache. And then, his eyes. On her, with his own pain and doubts and care. She sees it last but it the most important thing heart and mind register. Care.
He carries her all the way back to camp. She feels how he lifts her in his arms as she walks with him through the night and he takes her back over the fields she has run over as hard as she could.
She feels how easily Bass is carrying her. She feels him getting up the steps of the porch. A door opens.
Bass pushes the porch door open with his boot. Adjusting her in his arm, making sure she won't bump her head against the doorway. He inhales, taking tears back with that intake of breathe. Wanting and needing and craving to only focus on her now. He finds Miles in the dark of the living room. Asleep and on some mattress Bass had dragged him too earlier. He walks Charlie over to his brother.
Charlie feels the rhythm of Bass against her. And then, she is being lowered on something soft. Something that feels like a mattress but she is too tired to check. She feels how Bass moves something warm and heavy over her. His bedroll. She recognises his scent immediately.
She feels something warm and tall next to her. Miles. He grumbles something and then he moves his arm around her shoulder. Bass moves next to her on her other side. Sitting down next to her, his large legs tall and strong next to her. His back against the couch behind him. His thigh close to her head, touching her forehead. His fingers slowly brush her hair, soft touches that calm her, when exhaustion and tears cried for now make her fall asleep.
When she falls asleep it is with Miles' warmth behind her and Bass' tall shield of protecting care next to her. Both of them here to take care of her. Both of them reminding her she is not alone. Both of them here to get each other and her to this first night of dark and grieve. Before she falls asleep she reaches out for Bass. Her hand is sliding into his warm large hand, when they both lock hands, her hand in his.
Author's Note I loved writing this Charloe piece. I hope you enjoyed reading it. The prompt for this one is '172 Any sin can be forgiven, for a price.' and is from the TOA, the second coming writing challenge. It is about Bass there. Wanting and needing to be there for Charlie, after all that has happened, his way to build on forgiveness and give her the care he wants to give her. And it is about Charlie allowing him to do that and to be there for her. Both men looking out for Charlie, Miles and Bass. After Bass followed her into that dark night, bringing her back to him and Miles. Thanks for reading, Love from Love