Hey guys! Hope you're enjoying the story. And if you're looking for more, please check out my other new Charloe story, What Happens in New Vegas Doesn't Always Stay There!
You're Sebastian Monroe…
And your dumb ass is in the middle of a rebel camp.
The dumb ass took a deep breath, in through his nose, out through clenched teeth. You're not dead so they obviously don't know who you are yet, but- A burst of panic set his heart racing. His tattoo. Taking his eyes off the retreating nurse for a second, Bass glanced down at his forearm. He sighed low in relief. It was covered up completely with bandages. The skin must have been damaged, otherwise they would've seen it. He closed his eyes, letting his head sink back onto the pillow. No one knows about the tattoo, he reasoned. And he was probably right – after all, a tattoo like that, a pre-Blackout inked logo of what had become the symbol of the Monroe Republic, would've likely raised a little more than suspicion. Turning his attention back to the nurse getting him medicine, Monroe tried to form semi-coherent/decent a plan. You're going to figure out how much they know and then you're going to get the Hell out of Dodge before they string you up.
Before he even realized he was doing it, his mind had already assembled the steps a plan like that required.
1.Find out from Nurse Blondie how long I've been out, and where the rebels- I mean the patriotic souls fighting to save us from that bastard Monroe… Bass rolled his eyes… where they found me.
2.Find out where this base is located, and how far away it is from Philly – obviously without asking "Oh, so how do I get to Philly from here? Just follow the yellow-brick road? Why am I asking? Oh no reason at all, nothing to be concerned about…"
Bass rolled his eyes, wondering when he'd become such a sarcastic piece of shit.
And besides the fact that being obviously interested in getting back to Philly might not be the best thing for his health, maybe there was more information to gather while he was here… information that could bring the rebels to their knees. But only after he made it out of this hell-hole in one piece.
Back to it then.
3.Find out if there are any other Militia in this base. Maybe some other moron got here the same way I did. Maybe they know something about what happened…
The chances of that were probably slim, but for some reason Bass didn't like to imagine that he was stranded neck-deep in enemy territory, with himself as his only ally.
4.Gather supplies
5.Get to the nearest Militia outpost without getting myself killed or captured
Five easy steps. Very straightforward. Hell, back in the day he'd come through on far more difficult missions, with Miles-
He winced, and not at the pain still shooting through his body. Bass knew he had to stop himself before he could go down that familiar road. It was better if he didn't think about him at all.
With a shuddering sigh, Bass looked around, hoping to catch sight of the young nurse who'd promised him pain-killers.
Somehow, even after all these years, even the thought of his brother still hurt.
Careful not to move a muscle – to avoid alerting the surprisingly competent staff of nurses milling around the cots – Sebastian Monroe tried to asses his situation. The young blonde nurse had just disappeared through the set of double doors at the far end of the room, and Bass tried to push past the strange twinge of discomfort that made him waste precious seconds staring at the doors even after she'd gone.
An older nurse paused beside his bed, checking his bandages and placing a cool hand against his forehead, and pulling his attention away from the doors. For the briefest moment, the memory of his mother in her robe and slippers, hair disheveled and eyes tired, came back to him. For a second, it was her hand against his forehead, her breath hovering in his ear.
"I don't know if you can hear me…and you have no reason to trust me," the nurse murmured in a low voice. Through slitted eyes, Bass saw her draw back slightly and look around her. None of the other nurses were nearby. She leaned in again, even closer this time, pretending to adjust the gauze wrapped around his forehead, even as her whispered words made his breathing still.
"But I'm here to help you, General. In whatever way I can." Her voice took on an iron tone. "Long live the Republic."
