Disclaimer: Not mine. Once again, glad they're not mine. Because really? My children would be unbearable without electricity. Truly. Especially as my daughter's school is online. And my best friend lives a couple hundred miles away from me and I only ever get to talk to her through the internet and our phones. I'd rather have her than any of these characters.
A/N: Finally! We get to do my favorite character. I adore Bass. I know, I'm twisted. I have issues. Vader is my favorite character from Star Wars. Bellatrix is one of my favorites from HP. Jagang is so cool in the Sword of Truth series. I have a thing for the bad guys…usually…sometimes. Anyway! Here's Bass' story. Let me know what you think.
What Bass Envied
Sebastian Monroe had always been a bit off. He knew that. His family knew that. Hell everyone knew that. Then, he started school and that changed, or so it seemed. He met Miles. Miles of the easy smiles and the big brown eyes and the quick mind. Bass wanted to hate him when they both ended up in the same kindergarten class. But Miles wouldn't let him. Miles latched onto him and insisted they be friends.
Bass let him think they were friends at first. He wasn't sure he liked Miles. But the other boy grew on him. Then he found out Miles had a little brother. Bass thought that was unfair. He'd always wanted a brother but all he had were stupid baby sisters. Miles didn't even really want a baby brother. He said Ben was boring.
Miles was persistent, Bass would give him that. Miles became something more than a friend quickly. Then he became more than a best friend. Miles became his family, his brother and life was perfect.
He knew Miles liked him better than Ben. Ben was, well, weird. He just knew things. Knew things he shouldn't. He rarely said anything about what he knew but Bass could see it in his eyes. The strange knowledge and the sadness that followed him all the time because of that knowledge. Sometimes Bass felt a bit sorry for him. Not sorry enough to tell Miles he needed to have a better relationship with Ben though.
They grew up, as boys are wont to do, and Bass made up the symbol for the two of them. The M and the W, depending on which way you looked at it. It was inspired. Miles had said so. And Miles, well, he was smarter than Bass so he must be right. Miles was always right.
Then Miles got Emma for a girlfriend. Bass tried to be happy for him. He really did. But Bass adored Emma. She was beautiful and sweet and kind. Emma was an angel and Bass wanted her.
Bass wanted her so much and was so jealous that she was Miles' that he betrayed his best friend, his brother for one night in her arms. He never told Miles. He never would. It shouldn't matter anyway. They were leaving. He and Miles. They'd joined the military. They were going off to boot camp and Miles would forget all about Emma and focus on Bass again.
The next few years were glorious. Him and Miles; fighting, running, learning, living. It was perfect. The military was a good fit for them both. They were stationed together and even though Miles got more recognition (he was way more reckless than Bass) Bass for once, wasn't jealous of it. Miles was his brother. Miles was with him all the time. That was enough.
Ben married that hag, Rachel. Bass didn't like her. She didn't much care for him and Miles either so it was okay not to like her. There was something about her that irritated Bass so much. He knew she and Miles had had that little fling but it didn't bother him. Rather it amused him. Ben, perfect, saintly Ben, cuckolded by his own brother.
She went back to Ben though. Nine months later they had a baby and Bass hated the baby with a passion. She was all Miles talked about now. That tiny girl ruined something that Bass had spent years on. Because of her Ben and Miles now wrote each other at least twice a week and they talked on the phone at least once a week. Their conversations? All about Charlie. Everything with Miles was Charlie this, and Charlie that. It was horrible and terrible and wrong. Miles was his! Nothing he did could pull Miles from that damned baby.
Then the lights went out. That was a blessing. Hundreds of miles away from that kid and no way to get any information. Now Miles would forget. Now Miles would be his again. But he wasn't. Months after the blackout and Miles was still searching. They'd deserted what was left of their platoon and taken off to find Miles' family. Bass wasn't about to let Miles go alone.
The house in Chicago was deserted. Bass watched Miles' heart break, right there on that kitchen floor. He wondered briefly if maybe losing Charlie wasn't such a good thing before he shook it off and pulled Jeremy from the room to let Miles grieve in private.
Miles left that kitchen with fire in his eyes. Bass knew it was only a matter of time now. Soon Miles would become what Bass had always wanted him to be. Ruthless, cold, a killing machine bent on the destruction of a world that had left him cold and alone. They would rule the world together because that was the destiny Fate had given them.
It didn't work out that way though. Miles had met Nora. That was a surprise and so was she. Bass hated her too. More than he had ever hated anyone. Nora was taking Miles from him, just like Charlie had. And then she was gone.
After she was gone, Bass realized that Miles' fire had gone too. Only Miles' fire was gone long before Nora finally gave up. Bass knew he should be happy; he had Miles all to himself now. They both knew Rachel would never tell them where Charlie was. Bass was glad of that except that it had killed something inside of Miles. Bass wasn't all together sure he liked this Miles.
Rachel was an irritant. So Bass faked her death. He would have told Miles the truth eventually but it didn't happen. Wouldn't happen now. Miles was standing in front of him with a gun to his head. Oh. Right. This, this was not good. Miles was going to kill him. Kill him for allowing the only path to his precious Charlie die. That gun was rather cold actually. Miles finally had a spark of his old fire in his eyes. Hunh, that was different. Miles' finger tensed on the trigger.