Charlie could feel her heart racing, fear rising steadily. She was pulled along the hall and shoved inside a room, too fast for her to even know where she was. But she quickly picked up on the fact that they were in a bedroom. 'Awesome.'

Angry blue eyes met hers as the door slammed shut behind them. This Monroe, she had never seen before.

"Do you know, can you even imagine, how many people have died for far less than the disrespect you just showed me?" His fingers were holding her arm so tightly she couldn't feel her hand anymore. Now probably wasn't the time to mention it though.

The tension in the room was sky-high, unlike anything she had ever experienced between her and Sebastian Monroe before. Mainly because terror had never been something she felt around him, despite his best efforts.

This guy though...

He must have seen something in her eyes, because one moment he was staring holes into her and the next his eyes widened. Abruptly, he let her go and turned away.

"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to see my mom." He said nothing, causing what wariness and fear she had to shrink back just enough to allow her natural impatience to push its way in. "If you let me see her I can convince her to go. And then you'll get what you want. My mom thinks you're gonna hurt me, that's why she won't leave."

His empty laugh resounded through the room. "And what makes you so certain that I won't hurt you Charlotte?"

There was something in his voice, something impossibly sad. For a crazy second, she wanted to weep. She wanted to move up behind him and wrap her arms around his chest and cry against his back until they both felt better.

She settled instead for clearing her throat.

"You've never hurt me. Not once. Even though I've made it pretty tempting. I don't know why." she told him honestly, "I have no clue why - but I know you won't harm me. Trust me, I've given you better reasons than this." 'Like trying to kill you, sleeping with your son, generally enjoying irritating you beyond all reason...' Probably best not to say that to him right now this second.

General Monroe turned to look at her, his face calmer than before. Charlie took that as a good sign. "Just let me talk to her."

"So that you can plot against me? I know how you Matheson's work. The second my back is turned I'll be betrayed. Again."

"I'm not my mom. And I'm not my uncle. I c- I care about what happens to you. The man I know at least. If I do something now, to get you killed, then I'll never see him again, The man I l- know, the man I know in the future, would probably disappear or something. I'm asking you to trust me, because I'm trusting you."

He eyed her speculatively. He wanted to believe her, she could see it written all over his face. But his trust levels were clearly at zero. There was every reason for him to suspect that he was being played. Charlie silently cursed her uncle Miles for doing this to him. Instead of helping his best friend he had utterly destroyed him and then disappeared into the night. As she watched him war with himself, she felt the urge to wrap her arms around him again.

Sebastian Monroe always looked strong, scary, imposing, sexy, furious; he looked, at all times, even when sad or upset, like a warrior. His mask was, in her time, for the most part, perfected.

But this younger version of him clearly hadn't yet been practicing his 'I Don't Care' face in the mirror. Because he just looked lonely, and a little bit afraid. It crossed her mind that he probably was more scared than she was at this point in his life. Charlie never thought she'd ever feel sorry for Monroe, not when he was in General mode. Yet here she was, wanting to comfort him.

"Look," she said softly, "I know what Miles did to you and I know better than anyone what my mom is like. But I'm not them. You and I, we have something separate from all the bullshit between you three. You've risked your life to save me, you know." She walked closer to him, careful to keep her pace slow and her hands visible, "and believe it or not, I've risked my ass, quite literally my ass to save you."

One of his eyebrows lifted in interest at that and she gave a small smile. The memory of that night in New Vegas seemed like it was years ago. Both her and Monroe had come so far since then. She had to find a way back to him and she was pretty certain that started with earning the trust of the man in front of her. Problem was the same as it had been the night she got here though, she wasn't sure how she'd managed to gain her Monroes trust at all. Trying to murder him had turned into being quite fond of the man, okay, more than just fond - but she had no idea when he had stopped actively disliking her and decided she was someone he could trust to have his back when it mattered.

"That sounds like an interesting story." He brought her focus back to him, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Where was I while you were risking your ass for me?"

Charlie shrugged, seeing an opening, "Oh you know, in a fight to the death..." As she smiled up at him, she told herself she was not flirting with General Monroe.

To her surprise, his answering smile seemed quite genuine. "I'm guessing that you're reluctant to tell me the rest of the tale."

"I'm too sober to be spilling all my secrets." She wasn't flirting and she certainly wasn't currently teasing him. 'What is wrong with you Charlie?! HE is AWFUL!'

"Well, we'll have to fix that." In a matter of seconds, she had a glass of whiskey pushed into her hand.

This was a very bad idea.

Getting drunk. With General Monroe. In his bedroom. This was even dumber than turning her back on that asshole Connor and ending up here in the first place.

But, he was smiling at her in a way that made him identical to her Monroe, even without the beard. So when he ushered her onto the couch across from his bed, she downed her drink and decided to go with it.

6 days earlier...

They had set up camp for the night a few hours ago, but Bass couldn't sleep. Between the need to get to Charlie and make sure that she was okay, the worry about how Miles and Connor were faring back home, and the memories - the feelings of both anger and guilt being here with this Miles brought out in him - he wasn't doing all that well.

Miles was treating him with intense suspicion - nothing new there. Bass had done some terrible things, there was no denying that and he didn't want to. But despite his self-inflicted punishment - subjecting himself daily to Rachel Matheson for one thing, he still felt like the ultimate villain of the story. He was the only person in their group who was purposely reminded of his sins every single damn day of his life. And he could live with that, as long as he got to be part of something, as long as he got to experience those rare moments when Miles acted as though he was his brother again. He'd live with a hell of a lot more if it meant he could stay near Charlie.

When he'd gone from quietly lusting after her to placing her safety, and her happiness above pretty much everything else, the first reaction he'd experienced was anger. Why did he have to care for a woman who was always going to hate him? Who was fucking his son. But then the unthinkable had happened - Charlie had given Connor her body, but she had given Bass her loyalty. To him, that was worth more than a thousand meaningless sexual encounters. As far back as he could remember, he'd had no one's loyalty - not really.

But over time, her utter determination to make sure that she had his back when he needed it, her sardonic smiles and the absolutely stunning fury he'd seen in her eyes as he'd told her exactly why Connor was gone - it had all left a mark on his soul. Nobody had gotten angry on his behalf in years, yet Charlie, he knew, had been mentally plotting payback on his son for weeks. It meant the world to him. She meant the world to him.

But it also made even clearer just how far apart he and Miles had grown. His lifelong friend spent his time up Rachel's backside these days, casually forgetting who had started them both on the path to destruction. It hurt, if he were being honest with himself, which he tried his best not to do most of the time. Tonight though, he couldn't help himself.

Miles chose that moment to look over at him from his spot propped against a tree, bottle in hand. "If you're not gonna sleep, you can take my watch."

"Whatever Miles."

"Why are you here, Bass? Really. You jumped randomly into a different world to get Charlie... Why you?"

Bass understood the question, but it still pissed him off. Miles was trying to figure out why he himself wasn't here searching for his niece instead.

"Why me Miles? I'll tell you why, because while you've been busy with your head stuck up your girlfriends ass, I've been the one looking out for Charlotte. She can barely remember what you look like anymore. So when she got in trouble, the good guys came to me to help her."

That didn't go down very well. Bass didn't much care.

"What girlfriend?"

"Never mind."

"So let me get this straight," Miles moved, sitting up, "you expect me to believe that I left my niece in your care to go screw some chick?"

Bass sighed, "Your niece is a grown woman, she can take care of herself." He felt the need to make that fact clear. " But yeah, pretty much. You did the same thing to her that you did to me. You made her a darker version of herself and then just fucked off and left her to deal alone." he snapped. It felt good to say that, he'd wanted to for months.

Miles looked torn between guilt and being pissed off.

After a few minutes silence, he finally replied, in a subdued voice, "I spent the past few months going over everything. Trying to figure out what I could have done different. To help you. To save you. When you went over the edge, I was scared. And selfish. I was too afraid to lose you to do the right thing. Instead I followed you and joined in. Then you killed that family and man, I realized things had gone too far. There was no getting through to you, even if I'd tried. At least that's what I told myself. You seem to think I don't know what I've done, Bass, but I do. I do."

The words were choking him up, causing his eyes to burn with unshed tears.

"Go to sleep, Miles."

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what the guy was trying to say, the responsibility he was attempting to take, he did. But this was the wrong time, wrong place, wrong Miles. Nothing that happened here was going to do much to change things in his world. Except for finding Charlie, that was all that really mattered.

He wondered what she was doing, if she was safe. If everything was really the same here he could only hope that the man she was with now remembered how much the little girl she used to be meant to him.

As long as he didn't happen to notice what a beautiful, strong, extraordinary woman she had become. Or Bass might find himself in the unique position of getting to kill himself, slowly, and enjoying every minute of it.

He tried to remember the last time he saw her, the way her lips had felt, barely brushing his before pulling back. The feeling of peace he'd experienced, sitting beside her, with her head resting on his shoulder like it belonged there.

The images brought him little comfort. He wouldn't feel comforted again until he saw her and knew for sure that she was alright.

"You care about her, don't you Bass?"

He looked over to see Miles, now laying down and watching him carefully. "My niece..."

"Oh, go fuck yourself Miles. You don't know what you're talking about. I've never laid a finger on Charlotte." 'Not that I haven't dreamed about it every night for months.' "And my Charlie isn't your Charlie, so it's got nothing to do with you."

"Your Charlie, huh?"

"Yes, Miles. My Charlie. Now go to sleep, before I kick your ass again."

Philly, present...

Bass's Charlie was currently drunk. One drink had turned into them sharing a bottle, or two, from General Monroe's secret stash. For the majority of the time, they drank in silence, watching each other and both of them secretly glad for the company.

Then the questions had started. At first, she had refused to say a word, letting him frustrate himself. After a while though, she had taken pity on him. His questions were innocent enough after all. Mainly about their relationship and the ass incident, which seemed to fascinate him.

She had ended up sitting cross-legged on his bed, facing him as he lounged on the couch across from her.

"Okay, well," she had given in and decided to tell him a condensed version of the New Vegas story. "You got captured, cause you're lame at being a crook. I tried to get help from your ex, but you must be lousy in bed cause she gave me to this asshole boss-guy instead."

"I'm not lousy in bed, just so you know, but what happened then?" He was leaning forward, totally focused on her. It was nice, she decided in her inebriated state, having someone so interested in what she had to say.

"Well, they put me in these God-awful clothes and chained me to a bed in this disgusting trailer. He said I was gonna work for him now. And then he sent a guy in. He definitely got more than he paid for. " The General looked drunkenly appalled on her behalf. "Did he...?"

"He tried." She shrugged, attempting nonchalance, "I strangled him with the chain."

He looked suitably impressed.

"Nice. So did I win my death match and come get you?"

"Ha! Win it?! You nearly got yourself killed! I saved your exes life so she saved yours in return."

"Wait, you had to save her before she helped me?" General Monroe was one scary guy, but, she couldn't help noticing, he was downright adorable when he pouted. "Like I said," she told him with a wicked grin, "You must be a crappy lay."

The grin on his face was irrepressible. "You speaking from experience, Charlotte?"

"Nope."

When he got up and walked to the bed, climbing up to perch facing her, she didn't flinch. Though it occurred to her that maybe she should have.

"So you're saying that where you came from there is nothing at all going on between us?" He looked doubtful.

"You think you're that hot, huh?"

"No, I think you are." His matter-of-fact response took her off guard. "You're beautiful, you're strong, too brave for your own good. Sounds like you're a magnet for trouble as well. And the hottest thing I've ever seen was last week when you shut Rachel Matheson up with like, two words. Nobody I've ever met has been able to do that. If that's a daily thing in the future I'd bet my life that I'm crazy about you."

There was more honesty in his words than she could bare. She'd always been aware that Monroe had some vague attraction to her. But it was only after he'd caught her with Connor, when she'd realized how much it had hurt him, that she considered the possibility that his feelings might have run deeper. Until he'd pulled away from her completely, she had taken him for granted. When Connor had left they'd finally gotten their bond back. The almost-kiss they had shared played on her mind through every quiet moment she got in this place.

Missing him was a different kind of pain than missing the rest of her family.

"Do you miss him?" The General asked softly.

"In some ways I miss him more than anyone." She gave a tired sigh, suddenly depressed. Kicking her legs straight, she lay back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I miss Miles. I can't even think about him without wanting to cry. I miss my mom, even though I hate her. They're my family and I love them. But Monroe, he's my best friend. Miles would die to protect me - so would my mom, but they're not really there anymore. Monroe is the one I rely on these days, the one who worries about more than just keeping me breathing. He makes me laugh. And when all this Nano crap is over we're gonna go away and live by the sea. He promised."

The bed shifted as he moved up to lie beside her. "The sea?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "I've never been."

"Well... I don't know how you're going to get back.. I'm still not sure I even believe any of this is possible. But I promise, Charlotte, one day I'll be the man you know, I'll be your best friend. And I'll take you to live by the sea."

Charlie turned her head, locking eyes with him. Her hand groped across the space between them to find his. Something tender in his gaze, he squeezed her fingers. "You don't even know me yet." She told him.

"Charlotte... I've always known you."

"You have?"

"Yeah. I'm not surprised you don't remember, you were so little - a different person. But even then I had a thing about being your hero." Charlie looked away, trying to recall memories that wouldn't come to her.

"What was there to save me from back then?"

"Plenty." General Monroe laughed softly. "Your uncles tickles for one thing, you used to climb up my legs to get away from him. I was such a sucker I played along as well. There were a few suspicious looking seven year old boys who used to hang around you when you were about five. Miles and I scared them away one weekend, we were staying with your family on leave." Charlie laughed at the idea of it. Miles was still trying to scare boys away from her. Monroe too. But for very different reasons these days.

"That same weekend," he went on, clearly lost in the memory now, "you woke the entire house up in the middle of the night, screaming. It wasn't long after I'd lost my family and for a minute I was convinced something terrible was happening to you. Everyone got up, but I got to your room first. You'd had a nightmare. Your little face was white with fear. The moment I burst into your room you bounced across the floor into my arms. Miles told me after it that he wasn't sure which one of us was shaking more."

Fragments started to come to her as he went silent, pictures flooding her mind in pieces.

A somber-looking, younger version of Monroe, hugging her tightly. Her mom coming into the room and trying to take her from the safe harbor of his arms. Burying her face in his shoulder, refusing to let go, him turning away from her mother. Her and the other adults leaving the bedroom. He stood there with her for a while, then carried her back to bed. "I'm scared, 'Bastian, the monsters are gonna get me." "It's okay, Charlotte. I'm here. I won't ever let the monsters get you." Pulling back the covers, he put her in then sat up beside her, cuddling her against his chest.

Maybe it was a memory, or maybe it was a fantasy - a version of the story, created solely by what he was telling her. But either way it worked on her.

With emotion choking her, she turned her body towards him and watched as he copied her. "I'm scared." She told him quietly.

Tiredness came to her then and her eyes drifted shut as his free hand pushed her hair back out of her eyes. "It's okay, Charlotte. I'm here. I won't ever let the monsters get you." He whispered.

She was asleep before he finished speaking.