A/N: For the Topsy Turvy fan fic challenge on the GoodShip. The goal of this challenge is to write a story that reverses the traditional Charlie & Bass roles... In the story you are about to read, instead of Bass being responsible for the deaths of Charlie's family... It is Charlie who kills Connor. This story is blackout AU.

Chapter 1: Blood on His Hands

So much blood. Bass Monroe is shaking, his whole body quivering with rage and despair as his arms wrap around the son he barely knew. Connor is dead. Just moments ago they'd been laughing. Laughing for the first time that Bass can remember. They'd been coming out of a council meeting on the town square, surrounded by other locals. Connor had teased his Dad about something – Bass can't even remember what it was - but they were laughing. Bass will never forget the sound of his son's laugh.

Bass will also never forget the blood.

One moment they were laughing, and then Connor had staggered oddly. Bass had grabbed his son in an attempt to steady him. That's when he'd seen the shaft of the arrow protruding from his son's chest. Connor crumpled to the ground with a choked gurgling sound. Bass fell to his knees, knowing instantly that there was no coming back from a wound like Connor's. Sure enough, his son's eyes were already glassy and staring lifelessly into the late afternoon sky.

Bass holds his son as the blood soaks them both. People are beginning to notice something is wrong. Nobody else falls. No other arrows fly. This was not an accident nor is the village under attack. Connor had been targeted.

Bass feels the white heat of rage rise from within.

Theirs had certainly never been a traditional father/son relationship. It had only been five years ago that Bass had received the message from Miles – his best friend and President of the Republic. Miles had demanded that Bass visit him in Philly to accept a package. The "package" was a surprise twenty year old son – one who was grieving the recent death of his mother, and wanted nothing to do with this new father figure being thrust upon him.

Connor had never even known he had a dad till his mom got sick, and when he found out, he hadn't been terribly impressed. Bass Monroe was a well respected sheriff and best friends with the Republic's president, but neither of those things made Connor warm up to his Dad. Connor and Bass had grown used to each other over time, but they had never become close. Tonight had been the first time Bass had felt hope for that relationship. That hope is now just as dead as his son.

These thoughts had rushed through his mind in a fraction of a moment. Bass looks up to scan his surroundings. He searches for the source of the arrow that is buried in his son's chest, and he sees something right away.

Someone.

Someone who doesn't belong.

The sighting is no more than a momentary glimpse. He sees lots of dirty blond curls and flashing blue eyes. He sees a determined chin and in her hands, he sees the bow. Their eyes meet for just a moment and the current that flows between them is a living thing.

Bass gently places his son on the ground and stands in the middle of his street, covered in blood, tears streaming down his cheeks. He points to the woods and yells at his deputies who are standing nearby. "Get her!" he yells.

"Her? Who is it?" one of them asks.

"The bitch who killed my son. Bring her to me."

Aaron Pittman is standing in an open doorway of the little shack where they've taken refuge. He watches Charlie with an expression that is both concerned and appalled. "Since when do you kill people?" he asks, his voice pitched a little higher than usual.

She shakes her head, not looking up from the tattered old map in her hands, "Didn't want to. You know that."

"Well, from the look on that guy's face, I don't think he's going to care that you didn't want to. He's going to want your head."

"I know." Charlie's mind flashes to the face of the man in the street. She guesses that he's the mark's father, but she doesn't know for sure. She doesn't know much about the guy she'd killed. She only knows that he had to die.

"Please tell me you have a plan."

Charlie lets out a long slow breath. "We're going to get away from here as fast as possible and hope he can't find us."

"That's your plan?" Aaron's worry ratchets up a notch. He never had been the best at running.

"Well, if we ever face that guy again, I want to make sure he's had time to mellow out a bit first."

"I think that guy you killed was his kid. He's not going to mellow out about that, and he looked crazy mad."

"I know." She says again. This time her voice is nothing more than a whisper as she remembers the man in the street. He'd been covered in his son's blood. Tears on his cheeks. His hair had been curly and tousled. His eyes had raged with a hot blue fire. His gaze had met hers. He told her in that moment without words that he would kill her.

He would chase her to the end of the Earth and then he would snuff her out.

He would kill her the way she had killed his son.

She understood his need for revenge and had run instinctively. What she doesn't understand is this sudden and unexpected pull that he has on her. It's not his pain that draws her in. It's not his looks, though Charlie has to admit to herself he might just be the sexiest man she's ever seen. No. It's something else… Something she can't pinpoint.

All she knows is that she needs to see him again, but not right now.

"This isn't going to end well." Aaron says with a resigned shake of his head. "Like, not well at all."

Charlie shrugs, "I guess we'll see. For now we need to get moving."

A/N: Trying something new with this one. There will be a lot of chapters. They will all be pretty short and updates will be frequent. If you have a minute, let me know what you think.