A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate the support! WARNING: A little potty mouth is included in this chapter. Somebody better get the soap...


Charlie squinted against the bright sun, which had caused a sudden and rather unwelcome headache. She let herself be led towards the station by Captain Neville. Much to her surprise, however, they stopped halfway across the terminal.

A woman in a red dress advanced towards them, her eyes on Neville the entire time, a smile dancing in her lips. Neville let go of Charlie, and threw out his arms, embracing who was obviously his wife.

Charlie thought about making a dash for it, but for once in her life, decided against the first thing that popped into her head. Too many people, and too many things they would do to Danny if she tried to escape. She couldn't let that happen.

The woman let go of Neville, and smiled at Nate, who had been standing by, unseen by Charlie until now. She put her hand on his cheek, and uttered the very words that made Charlie's blood run cold, and her stomach twist in knots.

"Hello, Jason."

He smiled. "Hello, mother."

The woman hugged him ferociously, and an unexpected wave of nostalgia passed over Charlie. It hadn't been too long ago when the only mother-like person in her life had been unjustly ripped from her, and now she had to witness Nate, or "Jason" as his mother had called him, experience the one thing she never would. Her steadily increasing jealousy and disgust was cut short, however, as the woman looked at her.

"Tom," she cautioned, without taking her eyes off of Charlie, who did her best to appear stoic and unconcerned. "Please tell me you haven't hurt any of your prisoners too seriously."

Charlie scoffed, and was about to reply, before Jason cut her off with a glare that sent her mind reeling with something she couldn't define.

"No, mother. They haven't been hurt at all."

Oh, not at all, Charlie though bitterly. Not at all.


Miles said "fuck" for the eleventh time that day, and kicked his eighteenth rock across the dusty road. His brow was furrowed, and his face was the poster child of frustration. Aaron rolled his eyes, and considered reprimanding him, but decided against it. Scolding a failed uncle in possession of a sword was not a wise thing to do.

Nora trailed behind, a distant look in her eyes, and a hand braced against her side. Aaron slowed to walk beside her.

"You okay? That guy got you pretty bad, back there."

She sighed, and nodded towards Miles. "It's him I'm worried about." She stopped, and pulled Aaron closer. "He thinks it's his fault, you know. That Charlie's been captured too."

Aaron scoffed. "But it's obviously not. I mean, this sucks, but he needs to pull himself together."

"He loves her, you know. He loved Ben, too, but he can't admit that yet. He's just not practiced enough as, well, a likable person."

He nodded. "I've figured that out by now, thank you."

Up ahead Miles walked at a brisk pace, anything to escape the condescending chatter his companions were surely offering behind him. The sooner they got to Philly the sooner he could right his wrong, and get on with life. But every time he thought of Philadelphia, he thought of Bass, his best friend, his worst enemy.

And how he was going to have to blow his fucking brains out. For what he'd done to Ben, to Rachel, and what he was inevitably going to do to his only niece and nephew.

Miles hoisted his pack up higher on his shoulder, and picked up the pace.


"They're here, Rachel," Monroe breathed. He stood in the doorway, hands clasped tightly behind his back, eyes on the woman that was before him.

"Can't you just let them go? Please, I'll tell you anything you need, just-"

"It's too late for that, Rachel. You've already delivered the killing blow." He strode over to her, and offered a calloused hand. "Now come. They await us in the dining room."

Rachel reluctantly stood, shaking slightly at the prospect of facing her children after years of deprivation. Would they even recognize her?

They walked down the hallway, and then descended the rickety stairs. With each step, Rachel's heart began to beat a little faster. By the bottom step, she was breathless.

They reached the door, daunting now in all it's promise, and Bass opened it slowly, allowing paranoia to slowly set in. But soon it was wide open, and Rachel stepped in uncertainly.

Danny and Charlie stood before her, shoulder to shoulder. Charlie was slightly in front of her younger brother, her blue eyes alight with mistrust that made the older woman's heart clench painfully. Danny stood behind her, eyes cast down at the floor in front of his mother's feet.

"D-danny, Charlie..."

Charlie slowly stepped forward, her hand hovering unconsciously in front of her brother. After a prolonged silence, she dashed forward and threw her arms around Rachel.

"Mom," she sobbed.

"Shh, honey, it's okay. I'm here." She hugged her daughter back, despite the changes in stature that had made her seem almost unrecognizable. She let go, and held Charlie at arm's length, smiling from ear to ear despite the grim circumstances.

Charlie turned to Danny, and held out her hand to him. He had never really remembered his mother, and here she was, in front of him. He reluctantly stepped forward, and allowed himself to be embraced by the mom he never knew.

"I missed you guys so much," she whispered, relishing the hug as long as she could.

Bass laughed, a soft yet menacing sort of chuckle. He slowly strolled over to the three Mathesons. Charlie, sensing that something was wrong, threw her arms out protectively, covering both her mother and Danny.

"That's cute," Monroe hissed, eyes alight with a newfound fire. "So very sweet. But I'm afraid it's time to get down too business."

He produced a slender knife from his coat, and fingered the tip like a butcher about to slice a steak.

"Who's first? Big sister, her little brother, or mommy dearest?"


Charlie stared Monroe down, defiant despite the mind-numbing fear that seemed to envelope the group. She stepped forward, and Danny shook his head viciously.

"No, Charlie, please..."

Her mother began to cry softly, and Charlie refused to look back at them.

"I will," she said forcefully, with as much confidence as she could muster.

Danny rushed forward, and grabbed her arm, positioning himself next to her.

"You take her, you take me."

Bass giggled disconcertingly, and shrugged his shoulders. Then he reverted back to his usually stone-faced facade.

"Very well."