He had been walking behind the Matheson clan's wagon for over an hour, having found riding in it with the others just too much to deal with. But, without conversation or other diversions, he was left alone with his thoughts. And that wasn't good.

Bass subconsciously slowed his pace. The enormity of his earlier decision hit him like a ton of bricks, sending him to his knees with loss. He had lost his child. Not to death, this time, but it was a profound loss none the less.

Charlie witnessed his collapse from the wagon and was out in moments, running to him. Putting her arms around him and keeping him from completely collapsing to the ground. Even in his moment of emotional crisis, Bass couldn't help but see the parallel of this moment to the last time he lost a child, his grief surrounded in the arms of a Matheson. As she held Bass, Charlie watched as Miles slowly approached.

"Come on Bass, we gotta keep going." It's not that Miles was unsympathetic to his friend's pain; he just didn't want to get stuck on the wrong side of the border. And who knew if Connor hadn't decided to get his cartel connections after them. Without any response from Monroe, he sighed in frustration, obviously in no mood to beg him into action. "Come on Charlie. Get in the wagon. He'll catch up when he's ready."

"No. We'll catch up when he's ready." Charlie knew that Miles wouldn't get too far ahead of her, though she wasn't completely convinced that he would do the same for Monroe. She was even less sure that, if left to his own devices, Monroe would even try to catch up and not head back for Connor. As she watched Miles get back into the wagon and set off, she felt Bass get to his feet.

"You should go on." He motioned as he swayed a little before finally standing with more conviction.

"Nah, they'd probably just start in with a rousing rendition with 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, and I'm just not in the mood." She grinned, relieved that when she spied him sideways out of the corner of her eye, he had a faint smile too. She could tell he had no real semblance of humor in him right now, but she could also see he appreciated her effort.

They turned towards the direction the wagon had set off and begrudgingly walked onward in silence.

As time passed, the wagon got further ahead of them. While still within visual range, no real details could be made out. Appreciative of Charlie giving him the time and space needed to collect himself after his melt down, Bass realized didn't need either any longer. What he needed was some kind of connection. He quietly reached down and grasped her hand in his. Surprised, Charlie stared at him for a moment, but then smiled and remained otherwise silent.

^v^v^v^v^v^v^

Walking in silence for some time now, Charlie studied her companion. She felt bad for him. She never really associate the word depressed with Monroe, but he looked broken and she felt at least partially responsible for his misery. If she had been more careful, more aware of her surroundings, she would never have been captured and he wouldn't have had to choose between his son and her safety.

"I'm sorry."

Startled, Bass turned his head to look at her, clearly puzzled. He should be apologizing to her for his momentary melt down earlier. He wouldn't though. While such a display of emotional weakness was embarrassing, he had a right. He had lost another child. This one may not have died, but he felt the loss just as keenly. Still trying to figure out why she was apologizing, he waited for her to continue.

"For making you have to choose. Maybe you should have just left me. I would have figured something…"

"No! Listen to me right now, Charlie." Bass had come to a swift stop and grabbed her by the shoulders forcing them to face each other. "YOU didn't make me choose anything. Connor was the one who gave the ultimatum."

"But if I hadn't been taken…"

He was not going to let her finish with that line of thought. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I done talking? No, I wasn't," Bass continued on, not even letting her participate in the conversation. "You didn't do anything wrong, Charlie. You didn't throw down that ultimatum and I sure as hell wasn't going to leave you there to endure god knows what just so he could pump me for Intel before slicing my throat."

After watching her arrive at that realization…one she hadn't considered before…he stopped. "Oh, yeah, you really think he wanted to spend time with dear old dad?" All Bass could do was to shake his head in frustration. "I really did want him to want to know me. I did. It has been so long since I felt like I had family, I just wanted that chance, you know? I figured he may hate me; be ashamed of me; be afraid of me. I never even considered that he may just be…me."

"Stop it!" Charlie knew that though he had been one of the most powerful and feared men on the continent, he still needed to vent just like anyone else, but self-pity-Sebastian just wasn't a good look for him. "I guess it wasn't really much of a choice, then, huh?" She grumbled, inwardly feeling very selfish. He was hurting at his loss and all she could focus on at the moment was the little twinge of hurt knowing he hadn't really and truly picked her over his son. In record time, she went from feeling guilty about putting him in that position to feeling guilty about being hurt that that choice hadn't even been real.

"Stop it." Bass parroted back to her. It was like he was reading her mind. She looked up at him, angry that her pity party had been interrupted, but then smiled when she realized that he was really just mocking her good naturedly, but with a dash of sincerity. Her smile deepened. They were both quite pathetic.

^v^v^v^v^v^v^

They continued on, trying to keep pace with the wagon so as not to get too far behind. They had been traveling most of the night and it would be getting light soon. The full moon still hung in the sky, though, and illuminated the landscape. Soon the sun would rise and reality would intrude, but for now Bass decided he could just feel like a young man spending time with the apple of his eye, holding her hand while taking a carefree evening stroll. Idly, he wondered if the world hadn't ended up the way it had, would he have been one of those romantic saps. Looking back at Charlie and their joined hands, he smiled and knew the answer.

"Yep what?"

"Huh?" Bass questioned.

"You said 'Yep.' I was wondering what you were yeping about."

He just smiled. "Nothing. Just thinking."

The landscape started becoming a little more rugged. Bass studied the area. He couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. He peered ahead to see if maybe Miles and the group had stopped and was waiting for them. Not seeing that, he released Charlie's hand as he turned back to scan the area behind them.

Charlie, taking Monroe's cue, began scanning the area, too. Not seeing anything, she turned back to him. "What is it?"

"My paranoia, apparently. Come on." Without conscious thought, he reached for her hand again, then realizing he would need to curtail that action when the group is all together again.

"Hey can I ask you something?" Bass wasn't sure if it was the impromptu reconnaissance session or if it was because of what was on her mind, but she seemed nervous.

"Anything."

"Well, I just," she started, but stopped and sighed, regrouping her thoughts, "I had a question and since you were a soldier and fought in a lot of battles, I thought maybe you could provide some insight."

"Miles is also a soldier. And your mom has fought many battles." He was aiming for reassurance, but got the distinct feeling he had said exactly the wrong thing.

"Yeah, ah, well." Sighing, again, and she shook her head, deciding on course of action: retreat. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Clearly it is." At her obvious hesitation and discomfort, Bass decided to be more accommodating. "Look, just ask. I won't laugh at you or look at you weird. In fact," he stated and dramatically turned his head away, with just a hint of a smirk on his face, "I won't look at you at all."

After waiting through a few moments of her silence, he was tempted to look back at her, but heard a loud sigh and waited a bit longer…giving her time. She still hadn't spoken and it took everything in him to not look at her. He could feel the anxiety rolling off her, but didn't want to risk her shutting down.

"Have you ever…I mean, after a battle, do you ever find yourself…" Another sigh. He squeezed her hand in support, but she quickly released her hold and took a few steps away from him with her back to him. He wasn't sure where she was headed with this conversation, but it definitely got his attention. Gun in her face, staring down impending death? No problem. A conversation about feelings or something? Terrifying. Definitely a Matheson.

He called to her, trying to prod the exchange forward. "War is hell, Charlie and it does things to the human experience. But whatever it is, I promise you that you will never be the only one to feel or say or think something, so what it is? What are you so concerned about?" She turned to look at him. She found the concern on his face and in his voice aggravating, and endearing, but stood silent as he continued on. "What? What do you go through after…"

"I get aroused!" With his stunned silence, she was pretty sure they could have heard crickets chirping, if they hadn't been shocked into silence as well. At least that is how it felt. In abject mortification, she watched Bass' face, which started first somewhere between surprise and amusement but promptly split into a big toothy grin. She couldn't help but glare at him. "You promised you wouldn't laugh."

"And this surprises you that I apparently can't be trusted?" He snickered. Apparently, sullen Bass, who had existed just a few hours ago, had receded back to where ever he generally hides. Seeing her pain and humiliation, though, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand in his. Bringing it up to his lips, eyes never breaking contact with hers, he placed a tender kiss on her knuckles. He then led her towards the direction of the wagon to continue their journey. They had been stopped for too long.

"Relax, Charlie. It isn't that uncommon."

"It's not?"

"No, of course not. Adrenaline is pumping through your body, your temperature is raised because of the physical exertion, and after having just survived some sort of fire fight …well…you are thrilled to be alive and you just want to live that life. You know…a reaffirmation of sorts." Looking at her, he was pleased that she apparently understood what he was saying. After nodding to her, they both looked forward and decided to pick up their pace a bit. They couldn't hear the wagon's movement any longer and Bass wasn't sure if it was because Miles had decided to stop so they could catch up, or if they had just gotten that far behind. "Let's get moving, yeah?"

^v^v^v^v^v^v^

Bass didn't really want to hurry. He knew when they caught up he would have to permanently release Charlie's hand…at least for the day. But even a few hours would feel like forever. He was looking forward to a break from traveling, though. He was emotionally exhausted. Finally meeting his son and discovering what kind of man he had become, Charlie being captured, getting jerked around, and then concluding with him willfully abandoning Connor in order to protect Charlie…after all that, he was just spent.

After walking in silence for several minutes, Charlie couldn't stand the quiet any more. "So, don't say anything to Miles or my mom about my question, please? Or my grandpa."

Bass turned and considered her. Could she look any more adorably mortified? He didn't think so. "Of course, Charlotte." He wouldn't subject her to that sort of public humiliation, real or imagined. He didn't really think she thought he would; he figured she just wanted it said. Of course public humiliation was one thing…private humiliation, well, that was something else. He couldn't stop the smile forming on his face.

"So, I just want you to know," he said squeezing her hand, "next time we're in a battle and afterwards you are feeling stimulated, just let me know. I'll cover for you so you can…take care of business." Upon seeing the suspicion on her face, he elaborated. "I'll just say that you wanted to go refill the canteens for everyone or something."

"Why would that be a good cover story? You always do that after…" Oh my god. "You're a bastard!" Smacking him on the shoulder, she noticed he had gone from a smirk, to a huge grin, to full blown laughter upon her realization. He never cared about refilling the canteens for everyone after a fight, "Seriously, all this time, I thought you were being so helpful getting fresh water, but you were really just? God, you suck." He was so mesmerized with her. She could be so tough and cunning at times, but sometimes she could also be incredibly naïve and innocent. Bass was pretty sure Miles knew what he did between finishing a battle and returning with the water…and looking a little more refreshed himself. Apparently, the younger Matheson wasn't as battle experienced—or at least post-battle experienced-as he thought.

"You know," he paused noticing her rekindled suspicion, but still with that touch of incorruptible willingness to still give him the benefit of the doubt, "if you don't want me to cover for you, I understand. I could see where it might feel a bit strange to take care of business yourself not far from where your family is standing around."

She nodded, but said nothing.

"So, if you want, I am more than happy to help you out personally. I am really trying to be more of a team player and I really think I could contribute…"

"You are so full of crap." She had a huge grin on her face. He couldn't help himself. He did, too. He needed this sort of light hearted, good natured interaction.

"What?" he asked with mock puzzlement. "I'm just saying that for the sake of our little unit, I'd be willing to take one for the team is all."

"How very generous of you. Little unit?"

"Well, we aren't really truly a family, so…" He began, misunderstanding her question.

"No, no. I just didn't think you would call it little. Is it?" After a moment of his glowering, she flashed him a mischievous smile. "But thanks…thanks for that selfless offer."

His expression went from scowl to grin in two seconds flat. "What can I say? I'm a giver." They both just looked at each other's goofy grins, enjoying the pleasantly inappropriate direction the banter had taken. Considering the stress of earlier, it was a welcome diversion.

It was too bad that that diversion kept them from noticing that they had indeed caught up to the now stopped wagon. After nearly walking straight into the back of it, they looked up to find an irritated Miles, Rachel, and Gene, all looking at Monroe.

Not understanding what he possibly could have done to irritate them considering he had literally just arrived, he looked around to see if there was some clue or indication. Then it hit him. Looking down at his hand, he realized that he and Charlie had just strolled upon the group, laughing and holding hands, like they were just wrapping up an enjoyable first date.

Resisting the urge to abruptly rip his hand from Charlie's, Bass opted instead to just look Miles in the eye and with the most innocent look he could muster, just simply ask, "What?"

Though preventing the smirk forming on his face would have been just too much to ask for.