A/N: The events in this story differ quite a bit from the ones in the series. There is no nano. No Connor or Emma. Nora and Jason are still alive. The Republic existed before the bombings that took place on the show but Monroe was never blamed for them. He never had a "fall from grace." He does end up rebuilding the Republic but does so in the midst of a brutal war with the Patriots. The history between Monroe and Miles is sketchy and that's what Charlie is trying to figure out.
Chapter 1: What Dreams Are Made Of
The dreams happened very often and when they didn't, Charlie always woke up the next day feeling a little disappointed. She went through her days as usual and would smile at the mention of his name or the sight of his face on a painting. She discovered these things were like a trigger to her clouded and busy mind and they almost always guaranteed a nightly visit from the famed stranger. Tonight was one of those nights.
Her body arched towards him, the palm of his hands sliding over her breasts as he continued to move inside her. Charlie bit her lip, breathing heavily and reveling in the feel as he leaned over her body, his lips pressing softly over hers. They moved along her neck, the prickling sensation of his facial hair making her shiver. "I love you, Charlotte." He whispered in her ear.
Charlie's only response was moaning as he quickened his pace. She held on to his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his muscles the harder he drove himself into her. Charlie knew she was close to finishing and she blurted out his name before bursting in elation, "Bass."
Her heavy breathing and the satisfying ache between her legs woke her up. Charlie lied in bed motionless, her eyes wide as they searched the room. It had felt so real, she thought General Monroe was suddenly going to emerge from the darkness. She could feel the moisture buildup between her legs, realizing her dream had actually triggered an orgasm.
She closed her eyes, thinking of his face, his mesmerizing blue eyes, his lips, his hands. Those goddamn hands. The white sheet over her legs moved restlessly as she struggled to keep him out of her thoughts. Meanwhile, her heart continued sputtering like the incessant wings of a hummingbird.
Turning over on her side, she eyed the window, the hues of blue streamed through the slit in the curtains and formed long shadows on the bedroom walls. Her hand slowly moved over her arm, the sensation causing ripples of satisfaction that made her shiver. This was a whole new level when it came to dreaming about him.
Charlie watched as the curtains suddenly fluttered with the breeze that rushed from outside. She closed her eyes, picturing him once again. His body was covered in sweat, glistening with each movement, and she could almost feel the weight of his body on top of her. She licked her lips, thinking of so much more.
"What the hell is happening to me?" She muttered, opening her eyes and pushing herself up on the bed. Her head leaned against the headboard and she remained sleepless for a couple hours before settling back down again.
The early morning sight from the kitchen window was something she always looked forward to upon waking. The sun was shining over the hills, bathing in light the picturesque town she now called home. They'd resided there for almost three years, just her, Miles and Nora. More often than not Charlie felt like the third wheel. She'd never tell them but every few days she'd leave the house to hunt, fish, farm, whatever she could occupy herself with in order to give them enough time to take care of their own business. She was young and mostly inexperienced when it came to sex but she wasn't a complete ingenue.
It was September 21st—at least that's what the calendar hanging from the wall next to the firewood stove said. It was written by hand in fine black ink, a commodity that Miles had traded in town for crops towards the end of the previous year. Charlie didn't even know how accurate it was, especially since there had been days where they'd forgotten to mark off a date. For all she knew, Halloween had come and gone and everyone but them had known. She sighed, taking a sip of warm milk as she contemplated her day's duties.
"Going hunting today?" Nora's voice came from the doorway. Charlie smiled and nodded as she gulped down the last of her milk.
The lights of the house flickered, a common occurrence they were more than accustomed to by now. "Those scientists are still at it, I guess." Charlie mused.
The Monroe Republic had been busy trying to bring back the power ever since Sebastian Monroe had rebuilt what was left of his empire after the Patriot War. She'd heard the half-ass stories from Miles. Charlie never understood why her uncle was always so secretive when it came to their President. It was as if he held some kind of grudge against him but she knew better than to probe for more details. Miles wasn't one to concede once he had made up his mind about something. Speaking of the devil. Charlie thought as she heard her uncle come downstairs. His hair was still a mess and he was wiping the sleep out of his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.
"Isn't it way too early for all this yapping?" He joked, cracking a faint smile. He headed towards the stove and grabbed the leftover milk in the kettle.
Charlie rolled her eyes, giving him a playful shove before heading for the door. "I'm going hunting. See you guys in a few hours." She continued her pacing and then yelled from outside, "Don't expect me back before noon!" A giggle left her lips as she set off into the woods.
The secluded surroundings were always a welcomed changed to the otherwise busy market streets in town. Charlie enjoyed solitary strolls, listening to nothing but the chirping of the birds and the running water from the falls nearby. It gave her time to think of everything and nothing at the same time. Her family being one of the things that occupied her thoughts every now and then, even though she knew very little of them—another thing Miles wasn't very fond of talking about. All Charlie knew was that she'd lost them when she was very young—her father, mother, and younger brother Danny—in a car accident before the power went out. That was 18 years of a certain solitude she'd trade in for a single moment with them.
As her mind drifted in and out, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She listened carefully for the scurrying of hoofs heading in the direction of the waterhole. Charlie smiled, hoping they'd be having deer for dinner that night. Her feet moved in a sleek manner, like the paws of a cat over the forest floor. She wasn't sure when she had gotten so good at hunting, but it was as if she'd been born with the ability to handle the crossbow. Nora called her a natural. Miles called it sheer luck.
She eyed the stunning creature from behind a tree. It was chewing on some foliage, unaware of the danger nearby. Charlie steadied her crossbow, aiming at the animal with precision. The snap of a twig caused it to snap its head up, eyes wide and ears perked in high alert. It was now or never.
"Boo!" She jumped, startled. The animal scurried away, deeper into the woods.
Charlie turned around to find Greyson Hughes grinning at her. He was tall and scrawny, with dark brown eyes and hair black like charcoal. They'd been friends for a while but she knew that deep down he harbored a deeper affection for her. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.
"You just cost me my dinner, jerk!" Charlie lamented, staring off into the spot where she'd last seen the deer.
"I would be more than happy to buy you dinner and make it up to you, Miss Matheson." He smiled again, like he was supposed to get a big prize for having scared away her prey and ruining her shot.
She grumbled under her breath, walking in the opposite direction. The boy continued to trail behind her, talking about his recent purchases in town and how his father was about to be promoted to some important position. Charlie was too busy to pay attention as she continued her search for the deer she had lost a few minutes earlier.
In the distance there was the faint sound of voices and she stopped, carefully perching her ear as if it somehow helped focus on it clearer. "Sh!" She put her finger up to her mouth, pointing with the other at the horses trotting a few yards away. "Look."
They hid behind a rock, and Charlie pulled out a pair of binoculars from her pouch, quietly observing the riders as they passed. The horses were big and strong, nothing compared to the ones Miles kept in the barn behind their house. You could tell these were well fed and cared for. The riders wore blue, the uniform of the militia, the small insignia imprinted on the upper sleeve confirmed her initial thought.
Her mouth dropped open when she saw him, her cheeks blushing as her memory became flooded with visions of the dreams she'd been having about him.
"That's General Monroe." Greyson muttered, "I wonder what brings him to these parts of town. It's not necessarily the loveliest of places." He glanced at Charlie, "No offense."
Charlie didn't respond, her eyes too captivated by the sight of the General commanding his men. He was just as marvelous as she'd imagined him and her stomach twirled with excitement as if she'd just witnessed a miraculous happening. His dirty blonde curls and the scruff on his face were inviting the sweetest of daydreams.
The President of the Republic was something of a myth and a legend—never really showing his face in public places, especially not in a small town like Willow Creek. Charlie had seen pictures of him in town, she'd heard tales of his heroism and tales of his monstrosity, it was hard to keep the facts straight. People liked to talk and the only person who seemed to know the truth about the infamous man—Miles—was never willing to share more than a nod or a scowl. Charlie was a bit enamored with the idea of who he could be rather than who he really was.
She loved hearing about the times his army defeated the Patriots. It was a great battle that had lasted months into the winter before ceasing in a victory for the founding father of the Republic. Not long after that, he had taken full control of the territory, this time having settled in Austin instead of the long-gone city of Philadelphia.
Charlie watched him from afar, wondering why this man she'd never met inspired such interest. He was magnetic in every way, and at the moment she kept wishing his piercing blue eyes were looking right at her and not at the men he was with.
"Would you like a bucket for that drool?" Greyson joked, a bit jealous of the attention General Monroe was receiving from the object of his affection.
She gave him a disgruntled look before returning her gaze to the man who'd been robbing her of sleep for the past few weeks. "It's not every day you get to see the President of the Republic in the flesh. Let me enjoy the moment and stop being such a dick." She grinned, thinking of her uncle's fondness for the word and how proud he'd be to hear her use it.
"You're right." His eyes narrowed in a contemplative manner before proceeding. "Hey, Charlie."
General Monroe and his men continued moving, disappearing behind the trees, much to Charlie's disappointment. She finally brought her attention back to her friend. "What?"
He cleared his throat, making Charlie nervous for the words that might be leaving his mouth any second. She hoped and prayed he wasn't about to declare his undying love for her. No matter how many times she'd told herself she'd let him down easy, now was not the best time for that.
"What if I told you, you could see General Monroe in a more private capacity?" He smiled, a little too happy for someone who just a few minutes ago had felt threatened. Charlie knew there had to be some kind of catch.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you fucking with me?" Her hands clasped to her hips, taking a daring stance. "Explain."
"I told you my dad was getting a promotion." He began, "Turns out Lieutenant Hughes will be joining the ranks of the elite come tomorrow night."
Charlie smiled, "They're making him Captain?"
"Yes." He replied. "There's a big shindig in Austin and it's all taking place at the General's estate." He danced around the subject for a little longer. "You can get a glance at your idol again. All you have to do is be my date to the event."
She chuckled, "First off, he's not my idol. He's just a very intriguing man, as anyone in a position of power usually is. Second off, I knew there was a catch, you sneaky weasel."
"Come on! It'll be fun!" He laughed. "You can't tell me you're not even a little tempted."
Charlie sighed, tempted was an understatement. And after having seen General Monroe himself just a few minutes prior, her interest in him had peaked to new heights. She bit her lip. "Only if it's a friends date kind of thing."
He huffed in frustration. "Charlie–"
"Greyson." She looked at him, feeling a bit sorry for him. "You know how it is between us. We're friends, right?"
His downcast eyes were hard to conceal but he tried his damn hardest. "Right."
She smiled wide. "Great! Then see you tomorrow!"
After they'd had dinner and settled down to read—a habit they'd all developed, since there was very few things to do to keep each other entertained when the evenings rolled around—Charlie decided to bring up Greyson's proposal from earlier that day. The reception was less than stellar.
"I said no, Charlie!" Miles's face was turning red. It was obvious she had hit a major nerve when bringing up the invitation to the Republic's important ceremony.
She gave sad puppy eyes to Nora, hoping that maybe she could stick up for her and try to convince her uncle to change his mind. Come on Nora, I left you alone so you could get laid this morning. It was no use, she shook her head, agreeing with Miles's stupid decision.
"What is so wrong with me going to this party?" Charlie countered, "You think you'd be happy to have some sort of friendship with someone so close to our commanding leader."
Miles held back a laugh. "Our commanding leader..." He mumbled. "If you think I'm going to let you take part in the kind of debauchery that goes on behind closed doors in the Republic, you're an idiot."
Charlie growled, discontent with his stubbornness. "And how do you know about what goes on in the Republic if you're always holed up in here like a hermit?" She plopped herself on the couch, watching as specks of dust floated up in the air. "I'm 23 years old, Miles. I'm not a kid anymore."
Nora remained silent, teetering from one foot to another as she crossed and uncrossed her arms from time to time. She was Charlie's friend and confidant but seemed to always be rendered helpless when Miles had any say in the matter. And come to think of it, these matters always had to do with one Sebastian Monroe.
"Why do you hate him so much, anyway?" Charlie asked.
Miles clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair as if he'd had enough of the conversation. "I don't hate him, Charlie." He struggled to explain his reasoning. "I just don't want you near him. He's not the person you think he is."
Charlie perked up in attention. "How so?"
"You having to ask is reason enough for me not to delve into the subject." His cryptic reply only infuriated her but she kept a calm demeanor, opting for a different approach.
She took a deep breath, pretending to mull over his words and come to her senses. "I don't agree with your decision. But I trust you, Miles." The look of relief in his eyes told her she was playing her cards correctly. "There's no one else in this world I trust more than you." Charlie came to her feet, taking small steps towards the stairs. "I don't know why you're so apprehensive when it comes to General Monroe but I do know that all you've ever wanted was to keep me safe."
"Kid, you know I do this for your own good." He smiled, "Trust me, there will be other opportunities for you to do something similar."
It was all bullshit. What could possibly make those other times different than that one? Charlie was certain he was only saying it to appease her. She nodded and smiled, playing along. "I'm going to bed." She gave each of them a hug, buttering them up further couldn't hurt. "Good night."
The dream that night was different. He was standing right in front of her, the militia uniform finely pressed on his body and his face patched with dirt—a scratch on his cheek and one above his eyebrow. His hair moved freely with the breeze and his fingertips caressed her cheek as the corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. It was devilish and disarming, and Charlie felt it in her core. She wanted to speak but it was as if she was a mute, only enjoying the touch of his fingers and breathing in his scent.
She knew that she was dreaming but managed to keep herself from waking up and opening her eyes, at least for a few more minutes. "Hello, Charlotte." He said, smiling wider. The sound of his voice was melancholic. His lips got closer, diminishing the distance between them and sparking her cravings. Charlie closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. One moment he was standing right in front of her and the next he was gone, vanishing like a ghost and leaving her in a stupor.
She fluttered her eyes open to the darkness of the room, feeling like she'd been wide awake, except she knew she had been dreaming. Charlie instinctively touched her cheek and smiled. Sebastian Monroe already had some kind of hold on her and they had yet to even properly meet.
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