June, 2015

Sweat ran down my spine from the humidity and the sun beating down on where I was sitting, limbs wrapped around tree branches. I lifted the binoculars and peered into the distance, frowning softly.

The other camp was nearly two miles away. From the cliff side and this high in the tree, I could still see their tents, tiny little multi-colored pieces of fabric that shimmered in the sun. Miles and a trio of men and women in our growing group had stumbled upon the other camp a week ago during a scouting trip and had reported that they had light security, huge food supplies, and almost no weaponry.

Miles wanted to overrun them and take their supplies, use them for our growing camp, but Bass was adamant that we didn't need to destroy the other camp, that we could instead assimilate them into our own and combine resources.

Sighing I lowered the binoculars and wiped the sweat from my face. Their argument had been heated and would have come to blows if Jeremy and I hadn't stepped in. I don't know if it's the heat or the fact that we've been rationing the alcohol, but Miles and Bass have been at each other for weeks, arguing over tactics and every decision.

More and more I've been stepping in, settling matters by giving them a rational opinion based on a cold evaluation of the situation. The fact that I'm finally using my policy and diplomacy skills I learned at school is ridiculous, given the state of the world.

I lowered myself from branch to branch until I landed softly on the dusty ground, sneezing at the pollen and dust swirling around me. Our camp lay a quarter mile below me, the cliff side jutting out above it.

I picked my way carefully down the trail I had scaled, occasionally climbing nearly sheer parts of the cliff. As I swung down onto the ground, my knee slipped and smashed into the rock, nearly blinding me with pain.

"Oh fuck!" I cried, dropping to the ground, clutching my knee. When the spots had cleared from my eyes I took a shaky breath and lifted my hand, wincing. Blood was pouring from the gash and when I tried to put weight on it to stand, I collapsed back to the ground.

"Shit…"

I shook my head and lifted myself with my arms, leveraging my other leg under me, my wounded leg shaking. I slowly hobbled back to camp, making my way to the infirmary tent. Sweat poured down my neck as I swayed into the tent, crawling onto a cot.

Our only doctor seemed to be missing, and the nurse, Mary, was also MIA. Groaning, I laid back on the cot, closing my eyes as my knee throbbed painfully. My head swam from the pain and I considered vomiting.

The tent opening flapped and I heard footsteps.

"Christ Becca, what happened?" Miles demanded.

I groaned softly. "I slipped coming down the cliff. It was fucking stupid. Where the hell is the Doc? Or Mary?"

"Checking on Shelley in Bass's tent. She's been having false labor for a few days now and Bass is worried."

I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. Bass had met Shelley a year ago and soon after they had gotten pregnant. It had immediately become a source of worry; Shelley needed vitamins, extra food, protection, and to make sure the baby came safely.

"How long will they be?" I asked softly.

I heard Miles moving around in the tent and a minute later heard his feet beside my head. I cracked my eyes open and found him standing over me with a bottle of peroxide and some bandages.

"Longer than you want to wait. I'll fix you up."

I frowned and sighed, great. Loving attention from Miles. This isn't going to suck AT ALL. I gave him a dry smile, "Awesome."

Miles crouched beside me and ripped open the tear in my jeans, his fingers brushing against my wound, making me flinch at the pain. He shrugged, "Hey, I could just leave it and let you get an infection. I hear wooden legs are making a comeback this season."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Smartass."

He smirked softly and poured the peroxide over my wound, preventing anything else I might have said coming from my mouth.

"Oh shitfuckballs!" I cried out. My leg shuddered in pain and would have flinched away, but Miles held it down, looking in the gash for any debris. As his fingers probed I groaned, anxious to have this over.

After two long minutes he removed his fingers and poured more peroxide over the wound, then patted it dry, wrapping a bandage around it so it would heal, but not so tightly that I couldn't walk.

I lay on the cot shivering in pain for a few minutes while Miles cleaned up and then swung my legs over the side, sitting up. Running a hand over my face I glanced up at him, "Thanks Miles" I murmured.

He nodded and leaned against the tent pole, giving me a curious look. "What were you doing up there anyway?" he asked.

I tapped the binoculars around my neck, "Checking out the other camp. They haven't strengthened their perimeter, people are just wandering around, and they don't seem to have many weapons; just like you said."

Miles threw up his hands, "See! We should be taking advantage of the situation now, before someone over there gets wise to our presence."

I lifted a hand, cutting him off. "I didn't say that I agreed with your plan. What I think we should do is send a diplomatic group and see if we can set up trade. It would be far more beneficial to us to work peacefully with people, to try and build a society."

Miles scoffed and paced, "It's been three years Becca, who the hell is supposed to build a society? Us? Be realistic, this is the world now. There is no society. There's only what we make."

I stared at Miles in shock. When had he gotten this broken and cold? "Miles, that's not true. Society is what we make it. Society is the people. We are the people the blackout has left behind and we need to be better than just raiding another camp and leaving them to starve."

I stood and swayed, my knee throbbing. Miles stepped towards me but I lifted a hand to ward him off, "You can't do this. If you want my advice on this, I'm going to tell you every time you ask; don't do it."

Miles turned and huffed, his shoulders tight. After a moment he nodded, "Alright. Let's go see how Bass and Shelley are doing."

I sighed and nodded, limping alongside him slowly as we walked through camp. It was slow going, people stopped us to ask for help; more food, more water, more blankets, medicine…more everything.

I could tell Miles was annoyed and edgy after our talk but I pushed it away, smiling patiently at each person, stopping to see how they could be helped. I genuinely believed what I had told Miles about society.

We were what we allowed ourselves to be. Good or bad, society answers to itself.

"Please, ma'am, please. Our son, he's very ill." I stopped as a man and his wife (or at least I presumed it was his wife) stepped forward, the man carrying the limp form of his son. I frowned, stepping forward, glancing over the boy.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked. I paused, "I mean, does he have a fever? Has he been ill?" I explained.

The woman shook her head, "No, but he's not getting enough food." She reached out and lifted his shirt, exposing spindly ribs. I gasped softly and lifted his shirtsleeves, my heart aching at the sight of his tiny wrists.

Taking a closer look at the family I saw that they were all in the same condition. I frowned, "When did you all join us? We don't have an overabundance of food, but we have enough that you all shouldn't be going hungry like this."

The man shook his head, "We just got here last night."

I sighed and nodded, "I'll see to it that you're all given double rations for two weeks. If anyone has anything to say, tell them to speak with Becca Flynn. Got it?" I commanded.

The man and woman both had tears in their eyes and the woman embraced me tightly, "God thank you, thank you" she whispered. I rubbed her back and winced at the feel of her bones beneath my hand.

"You all go to the mess area and get food right now." I pulled my notebook out of my pocket and wrote a note for the mess line, letting them know that these people would be getting extra rations from my portion. I glanced up, "What's your name?" I asked.

The man spoke up, "I'm Tom Neville. This is our son, Jason. That's my wife Julia."

I nodded and jotted down their names before tearing out the page and handing it to them. "This should answer any questions they have. If not, ask around and someone can point out my tent or Miles's. Excuse me."

I smiled politely and nodded at their effusive thanks before stepping away with Miles. We walked a few more steps before he glanced down at me, shaking his head, "You gave them double rations for two weeks. Where's that coming from?"

I waved to a couple I knew and murmured, "From my rations."

Miles sighed heavily and shook his head. "You're too nice kid."

I shrugged, "Maybe. But I'm not going to let that family starve when I can do something about it."

We walked in silence, each of us contemplating our own thoughts when we arrived at Bass and Shelley's tent. I walked to the tent flap and called out, "Bass, it's me and Miles, can we come in?"

After a moment Bass stuck his head out and smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Guys, the baby is coming!" He held the tent flap open and we stepped inside quickly. I glanced over and saw Shelley with a sheet draped over her knees and the doc between her legs.

She grinned at me, her face lined with pain. "No dignity anymore" she called out. I laughed and quickly went to her side, taking her hand, squeezing it gently.

"One of the many curses of the blackout" I murmured. She groaned as a contraction began and squeezed my hand tightly until it passed. When she opened her eyes she smiled weakly up at me, her face pale.

"You hurt yourself" she commented, pointing vaguely towards my knee.

"Oh you know, another day another scar." I grinned at her and brushed the hair out of her eyes, "Just don't hurt yourself getting this little one here" I murmured.

Shelley grinned, "I won't hurt myself, though I might hurt Bass if he doesn't get back here soon." She grunted as another contraction began and squeezed tightly on my hand once more.

I looked around the tent, only now noticing that both Bass and Miles were gone. "Yea, where are the dynamic duo?" I asked Mary who was ducking in and out of the sheet covering Shelley's legs.

Mary frowned at me, "I sent them for hot water and towels. They should hurry."

Shelley gave me a worried look and then turned to Mary, "Why?" she demanded.

Mary gave her a tight smile, "Because this baby is coming right now, and we can't wait."

Something in her tone made me tense. Something wasn't right. I glanced down at Shelley and smiled brightly, "I'm going to go find Bass, okay? He wouldn't want to miss this."

Shelley gripped my hand and shook her head, "No! Don't leave me." Her eyes were wide with fear and I hesitated. Bass would never forgive himself if he wasn't there for her. But I couldn't leave her if she wanted someone…

Mary looked up at me, her expression serious, "We don't have time."

I stood straighter and nodded. Turning, I smiled down at Shelley, squeezing her hand. "Okay, get ready."

Mary glanced up and nodded, "Push Shelley."

Shelley nodded and began pushing with the next contraction, her groans echoing out of the tent. Her hand crushed mine as she bore down, but I said nothing, only holding on to her just as tightly.

I was terrified.

So much could go wrong.

"Stop! Stop pushing!" Mary cried.

Shelley cried out and panted, trembling on the table. I looked down to Mary and blanched; the sheets beneath Shelley were flooded with blood. Mary looked up at me and shook her head, her lips pursing.

"Go. Go find Sebastian" Mary ordered me.

I dropped Shelley's hand and ran for the tent entrance when a sharp cry behind me brought me to a halt. I turned and saw Shelley curled upwards, her hands grasping her rounded stomach, her face in agony.

I ran back and wrapped my arms around her, hushing her, turning desperate eyes on Mary. "Help her!" I demanded.

Mary worked frantically, reaching inside Shelley, feeling for the baby, trying to get it out. The doctor pushed on Shelley's stomach, his stethoscope pressed to her abdomen. Shelley screamed and arched off the table, collapsing back a moment later, her face as pale as the sheet covering her knees.

I grabbed her hand, my heart thundering with fear. "Come on Shelley, fight. Fight for your baby. You can't give up!" I shouted.

Her eyes found mine and she squeezed my hand. "You have…to take care…of Bass." I shook my head, tears running down my face.

"No. No Shelley. That's what you're going to do. You are going to have your baby, and you and Bass are going to be happy."

My voice was desperate and raw. I squeezed her hand in mine, my grip painfully tight, but she didn't seem to mind. She smiled at me.

"You…love him."

I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I had never told anyone. I had done nothing about it. I had only ever been his friend, making sure he and Miles survived and we all stayed together.

"I-I…" I couldn't speak.

Shelley cried out in pain and her breathing grew shallower. The doctor pressed his stethoscope to her stomach harder, and then shook his head to Mary. Mary lifted her hands from between Shelley's leg and I inhaled sharply.

It looked like she was wearing gloves made of blood.

Mary gently lowered Shelley's legs and laid the sheet down, her hands leaving red handprints on the stark white sheets. Shelley twitched and gasped, her eyes rolling wildly in her head and I groaned, "No…no, no! Shelley!"

The tent flap blew open behind me and I heard a guttural cry. A moment later Bass was at her side, burying his hands in her hair, his face in her neck, whispering words I couldn't hear. I stood, holding her limp hand as her breath shuddered in and out…in…out…in…out…

The world seemed to tilt under me.

She was gone.

Bass lifted his head from her neck and looked to Mary, his eyes bleary, "Where…the baby…."

Mary shook her head and I saw him flinch, something inside his eyes dying. He stumbled away from her body, heedless of the blood on his hands. I heard a cheer outside the tent as he came out, abruptly cutting off.

I stumbled away from Shelley and out of the tent, blinking in the bright sunlight. Bass was sobbing on the ground, clinging desperately to Miles. Miles looked up at me, tears running down his face and I gripped the tent pole until it hurt.

I turned back into the tent and went to Shelley's side. "You need to deliver the baby" I whispered.

Mary looked up at me sharply. "It's dead."

I nodded. "He deserves to know…"my voice broke and I closed my eyes. "He should know if he had a daughter or a son." My hand rested on Shelley's and I opened my eyes, staring down at her pale face.

"Fine."

Mary worked quickly, pulling the baby from Shelley's still womb, cleaning its still form off before wrapping it in a soft blanket. She turned to me and I stepped back involuntarily. She sighed and gave me a sympathetic look.

"I can take her to him, if you can't" Mary offered.

I glanced down at the baby, my heart breaking. "Her?" I whispered.

Mary nodded and I wiped away fresh tears, shaking my head. "No, no I'll do it."

Mary settled her in my arms and I suppressed a sob, running my finger over her still warm cheek. Mary went to the tent flap and peered out before looking back at me. "They're gone."

I nodded; they had probably gone Miles's. I stepped out and walked through camp, ignoring the looks I was getting and went to Miles's tent. I could hear Miles talking softly and I stepped inside, watching as his gaze lifted to mine.

Shock rippled over his face and he stood quickly, taking long strides over to me.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. He reached for Bass's daughter and I moved her out of his reach.

"Giving him what he needs." I whispered. I looked past Miles to see Bass sitting at the table, staring into a glass of whiskey. I looked up at Miles, "Trust me." He hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

I stepped around him and walked over to Bass, standing by his shoulder. He didn't even look up. "Bass, there's someone I think you should say goodbye to."

He shook his head, "Shelley's gone" he whispered.

I nodded, "I know. But…" I paused for breath before continuing, "But your daughter is right here and you need to say goodbye."

Bass inhaled sharply and looked up at me, his eyes widening at the sight of the small bundle in my arms. He stood and stared down at her, his eyes filling. He reached a shaking hand out and quickly yanked it back, and my heart shattered.

I turned and leaned my arm holding his daughter into his chest, looking up at him, "Take her Bass. Hold your daughter and say goodbye." My voice was a harsh whisper and I didn't even bother to stop the tears on my face.

He made a wounded noise and then lifted his arm beneath mine, cradling her, taking her from me. He pushed aside the blanket and a broken smile crossed his lips. "She's…so…beautiful" he whispered.

I nodded and laid my hand on his arm, "What's her name?" I asked softly.

Bass paused and then whispered, "Angela, after my sister."

I nodded and stepped away, grabbing Miles's arm and pulling him out of the tent. Miles waved a hand, "We can't leave him like that."

"Yes we can. He needs to be with his daughter tonight and grieve. He doesn't need us right now."

Miles shook his head, "You're wrong."

I grabbed his arm as he tried to head back in, "Just leave it alone!" I hissed.

Miles yanked his arm away and glared at me. "You don't get it Becca. The last time he lost someone, he lost everyone. His whole family was killed in a drunk driving accident. His little sisters, his mom, his dad. All gone."

I lifted a hand to my mouth and shook my head. Why? Why did this world just keep doling out pain?

Miles nodded, "He tried to kill himself after. I managed to talk him out of it. So please don't tell me that he should be alone. You have no idea what you're talking about."

I nodded weakly and watched as Miles went back into the tent.

My feet carried me back to my tent and I barely registered that someone was in my tent. Jeremy grabbed my arm and yanked my into a tight embrace, shaking his head, "I heard what happened, are you okay?" he murmured.

I stared at the tent wall, entirely numb. "Yea" I whispered. "Just fine."

Jeremy pulled away and frowned down at me, "You don't look fine."

I stepped back and went to my pack, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. I took a heavy swig and smirked sardonically at him, "Well Jer, Shelley's dead, the baby's dead, and Bass is a mess. It's nothing a little drink can't fix."

Jeremy watched as I took another long drink, swaying as my knee throbbed. He shook his head, "I'll be in my tent if you need anything" he murmured before walking out.

"Yea…sure" I muttered. I sank down at the small table in my tent and took another sip of whiskey, feeling it burn its way down to my gut. In the three years since the power had gone out, I had seen some terrible things. I had done some terrible things to survive.

Never had I seen the kind of pain on someone's face like I had seen on Bass's today.

Then there was what Shelley had said to me.

I grimaced and shook my head, taking a huge gulp of whiskey.

No….I wasn't going to think about that.

Instead I would sit here and drink.

I rolled over on my sleeping bag, stifling a groan. My head pounded and my stomach felt like a weasel had died in it. I peered up at Bass and sighed when I saw that he was still there, sleeping.

Last night Miles had come and found me, letting me know that Bass had wanted me, had wanted to talk about Shelley. I was already three sheets to the fucking wind, but I had managed to stumble to his tent and after a mug or three of coffee, I had felt marginally better.

We had stayed up half the night talking until Bass had decided he was ready to take Angela to be with Shelley. I had walked with him to where Shelley's body was and we rested Angela on her chest, leaving them together.

They would be buried this morning.

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. What I wouldn't give for the power to come back and everything to go back to normal.

I shook my head and sat up, wincing as my head pounded. Tossing aside the sleeping blanket I stood and went to make coffee for Bass, Miles and I.

After coming to get me Miles had gone to Bass's tent to clean up, removing all signs of what had happened to Shelley. I poured out the old coffee and started a new pot, letting it brew while I went to the tent flap, peering outside.

It was grey, chill and rainy.

I scoffed softly, what a perfect day for a funeral.

Shaking my head I turned and grabbed my tshirt off the back of the chair, slipping it on over my sports bra. Tugging my hair out of its braid, I ran my fingers through it until it hung in long heavy curls around my shoulders.

Over the years I had cut off my hair and then let it grow back. It was currently hanging past my breasts and was growing to be a nuisance with the heat and how heavy it got bound up on my head.

"Did you make coffee?"

Bass's low scratchy voice made me jump—I had been lost in thought, peering out the tent flap again, watching it rain. I turned and nodded, smiling faintly at him. He nodded and threw back the blanket, standing and stretching.

I turned to look out the tent as he got dressed, letting the silence fall like a heavy blanket around us. A few minutes later he nudged my arm with his, handing me a cup of coffee. I smiled softly, nodding, and took it, sipping hesitantly.

"How's your head feel?" Bass murmured.

I glanced over at him and smiled wryly, "Like I probably shouldn't drink three quarters of a bottle of whiskey in one night ever again."

Bass nodded and sipped his coffee, staring out at the rain. "Shitty day for a funeral" he murmured before stepping out, carrying a cup of coffee for Miles.

I watched him walk quickly to Miles's tent and duck inside, anger burning inside me. This world was so unfair.

I stood beside Bass, Miles and Jeremy at the gravesite, cold rain slipping down my skin. The people from camp had long ago left, leaving just the four of us here. We all held shovels, just waiting for Bass.

He stared down at the shroud of Shelley and the baby, his face blank. He took a breath and lifted his shovel, slowly shaking dirt down onto them.

It was the sign we had all been waiting for. We slowly began shoveling; taking turns so that no one moved too fast, and so that Bass was able to bury them at his pace. When they were covered Bass stood before the grave marker, staring blindly at it.

The men turned to go, to leave him there, and Miles gave me a significant look, raising a hand, ordering me to follow. I shook my head and handed him my shovel before walking over to Bass. I saw Miles shake his head and walk away with Jeremy before I turned my gaze back to the grave marker.

I reached out and took Bass's hand, standing with him, not speaking. We stood in silence until I had grown so cold that I was shivering, my clothes long ago soaked. I squeezed Bass's hand and turned towards him, "Bass, we need to go. We're both going to freeze to death."

He said nothing but when I tugged on his hand again and took a step away, he tore his gaze from the grave and followed me. I held onto his hand tighter and we walked back to his tent. I laid a hand on his cheek once we were inside, staring into his brilliant blue eyes.

"You need to change Bass. You can't stay in those wet clothes, you'll freeze."

He stared at me, his gaze unfocused for a moment, and then nodded. I stepped back, "Okay, I'll be back after I change." He nodded and turned away, absently stripping off his jacket. I walked to the tent flap and glanced back at him, worried.

He must have felt my gaze because he turned and stared back, expressionless. "I'll be fine Becca" he murmured. I shuddered from the cold and nodded, ducking out and running to my tent to change.

I pulled on a dry pair of jeans and a thick sweater before tugging my jacket back on and flipping up the hood. I walked to the mess line and grabbed two plates of food for us, running back as quickly as I could without slipping on the wet grass.

I ducked into Bass's tent and set the food on the table, waving a hand at him, "Come on, you need to eat." He stared blankly at the plate and then nodded, sitting down heavily at the table. I sat down across from him and waited for him to start eating before I lifted my own fork.

I barely tasted the food. If you asked me what it was, I couldn't tell you. I could only tell you that the look on Bass's face had me scared. He looked shattered, hopeless. I had no idea how to help him.

He finished his food and shoved the empty plate back with a scraping noise, staring down at the wood of the table, his hands splayed out before him. I set my fork aside and stared at him, worried.

"Bass? Are-are you okay?" I murmured.

He remained still, staring down at his hands.

"I can still feel her blood on my hands" he whispered.

Something inside me shattered at his words. I reached over and gently took his hand in mine, "They're clean Bass, I promise." He looked up at me and there was anger in his eyes now.

"No. No they're not. If the goddamn power was on, she wouldn't have died."

My stomach clenched at his words. He was right. If the power was on, millions of people wouldn't have died. Hell, billions of people had probably died. Bile rose in my stomach and I turned away, closing my eyes, fighting the sensation.

"You can't control the power Bass. No one can." I whispered.

"That's not true. Miles's brother and his wife knew something about what happened."

I turned back to him quickly and my eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?" I demanded.

Bass frowned, "The night the power went out, Ben, Miles's brother called him and told him that the power was going to go out, and it wasn't ever coming back."

My eyes widened and I sat back in my chair, releasing Bass's hand. Holy shit. Those were the people dad was working with. They did this. My brain leapt to the next, obvious conclusion. Maybe they can undo this.

I looked up at Bass, "That's why you and Miles wanted to find them. Not because you wanted to make sure they were okay, but because they could turn the power back on."

Bass nodded, "We don't know where they are now. But we're going to keep trying to find them."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "We'll never find them. This country is too large."

"I won't stop looking. Becca look at me." Bass's voice was sharp and I opened my eyes to see his burning with anger and sorrow. "I'm not going to stop. They did this, and they're going to fix it."

I stared at him for a moment and then nodded. "Fine. But I'm not letting you do it alone."

He smiled wryly, his first smile in days, "I know. I wouldn't go without you."

I nodded and smiled back at him, "Never. I'll always have your back."

We sat together for a few more minutes, the silence creeping back in until I sighed and stood, "I have to go, I have sentry duty." I wasn't thrilled, it was going to be a long night in the rain and chill, and it had already been an emotionally taxing day.

Bass stood and grabbed his jacket, flipping the hood up, "I'll come with you."

I frowned and shook my head, "No, you get some rest."

His lips twisted into a pained smile, "Becca, I'm not resting tonight, whether I'm with you, or in here by myself. I'm coming."

I sighed and nodded, flipping my hood up before stepping out and making my way to the perimeter. We greeted the man I was supposed to relieve and Bass walked down the line, relieving another man.

We handed off binoculars and flares before Bass and I made our way further into the trees, walking in silence, side by side. I pointed to the left and whispered, "I'll be 500 feet that way, if you need me, whistle."

He nodded and headed to the right, disappearing into the inky darkness between the trees. After I had gone about 500 feet I leaned against the tree, peering out into the darkness. We would stay in these positions for no more than an hour before moving.

The other camp was roughly two miles away through dense forest, which had kept us from running into each other.

After an hour I stood from where I was leaning against the tree and walked towards where I had seen Bass, whistling softly. A moment later a figure materialized through the blackness and formed into Bass.

I nodded and pointed forward, "We should expand the radius. With all the commotion at camp the past few days, they might have heard something if one of their people was close by."

Bass nodded, not saying anything.

We walked through the forest, the wet leaves slithering beneath our feet, creating a creepy, dark sound. After a few hours we turned, moving south along the other camp's border before heading northeast back towards our camp.

I paused, hearing a noise behind us. It sounded….like a baby. My gaze whipped to Bass, praying he hadn't heard it.

His eyes met mine and they burned with something I couldn't understand. He turned and began running towards the noise, his shotgun in his hands.

"Jesus Christ Bass!" I swore and ran after him, ducking under branches and slipping on roots. Half a mile later we crashed into a clearing and found a couple sitting by a fire looking wearied and terrified.

Bass had his shotgun pointed at them, eyes wild. My own widened when I saw the woman clutching a baby to her breast, obviously in the middle of feeding it. I stepped around Bass and knocked aside the gun, "Bass! They have a baby!"

I pointed to the child and Bass's eyes fell on the child, his shoulders flinching at the sight. I reached out and grabbed his arm, holding onto him tightly. "Bass, we need to go."

He stared at the couple for long moments until he nodded, stumbling back. He ran away and I sighed, turning to the young couple, "I'm sorry" I murmured before running after him. I crashed through the woods, desperate to find Bass, but he was long gone.

I slowed and made my way back to camp, praying he would be okay, that he wouldn't do something stupid.

I stood in the ruins of the neighboring camp, blood rushing through my veins, adrenaline kicking me to keep moving. I fought it and stood still; watching as tents burned and the men I had come with ransacked their supplies.

Bass strode around, directing the men and women who had come with us, ordering them to carry the supplies back to camp. His eyes met mine across the ruins and dead bodies and he paused, something flashing in his eyes-distress? sorrow? angst?-I wasn't sure.

He turned away and his shoulders squared, shouting more orders.

We made our way back to camp, sending people back for the rest of the supplies while Bass, Jeremy and I went to Bass's tent for a "celebratory drink." The men joked and laughed, pouring drink after drink while I sipped mine slowly.

It couldn't chase the bitter taste from my mouth over what we had done. I had tried to advise him not to hurt anyone, to just…let them be. But something dark had welled up in Bass and had come spilling out.

I saw it now as Miles came storming into the tent, "What the hell did you do Bass?" he demanded.

Bass grinned and it shook me to my soul. His grin had always been light, casual, teasing—occasionally flirty—but it had never looked like this.

"We got the supplies from that camp like you wanted."

Miles's brows jumped up and he looked at me, "We?" he intoned, and I knew he wanted to know if I had been there. I nodded and he threw up his hands, cursing. "Were there any casualties?" he demanded.

Bass smirked, "I think you mean were there any survivors."

Miles stared at him for a long moment before turning to me and piercing me with a look that felt like a punch to the gut. He looked like I had betrayed him, let him down. He shook his head and walked out of the tent, cursing softly.

I swore and sucked down the rest of the whiskey, tossing my glass on the table before striding after Miles, ignoring Jeremy and Bass's calls for me to stay. I ran through the tents, finally catching Miles.

"Miles." I called his name but he refused to turn. "Miles please. Talk to me."

He halted and spun on his heel, his face thunderous. "Talk to you? I want to kill you right now for letting him go off like that and slaughtering all those people."

I barely flinched at his words, nodding. "I know. I should have tried harder to stop him. But Miles, if you had agreed to go after that camp and he had gone with you, it still would have gone down badly. He would have killed people, injured more. They would have found a way to retaliate, and he would have gone after them for it."

Miles stared at me incredulously, "Are you seriously siding with him? Are you actually saying what he did wasn't wrong?" he shouted.

I shook my head, "No. I'm saying that it was inevitable. Bass…isn't himself right now. He killed those people, and he'll have to live with it. Now you and I have to help him."

Miles glared at me, his brow furrowing. His eyes closed in frustration. "Becca you're supposed to be the diplomatic one. How did this happen?" he murmured.

I sighed. "Even the best diplomats get ignored by a leader hungry for blood. And I'm no Madeline Albright."

Miles sighed and shook his head, clearly still frustrated and upset. I reached out and laid a hand on his arm, "Miles. Don't think for a second that what happened is what I wanted. It makes me sick. I'm going to talk to Bass about it. But he needs us both."

Miles stared at me for a long time before nodding. I waited for him to say something, but he just nodded, sighing, and turned away, leaving me standing there, watching him walk away.

I went back to my tent and kicked off my boots, pulling off my shirt and jeans, washing off in the small basin of water on the table. When I was fresh I pulled on clean underwear and a long tshirt that skimmed my thighs.

I sat at my table, sipping a glass of whiskey, slowly getting drunk. Feeling anything right now…I didn't want that.

The tent flap made a soft noise behind me and I heard footsteps. Bass appeared beside me and sat heavily in the chair and I had to move my feet quickly out of the way or risk them being squished. His eyes were bleary and he carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, his grip on it tight.

I sighed and sipped on my whiskey, "What do you want Bass?" I asked tiredly.

Bass looked up at me and I could see it there in his eyes; regret, shame, sorrow, anger. A heady cocktail of emotion that was tearing him up.

"I can't go on without her."

His voice was low, rough, and sounded on the verge of tears.

I swallowed hard and shook my head, "You have to. Miles needs you. I need you."

He shook his head and took a swig from the bottle, his throat working hard. I winced and reached over, yanking the bottle away. "H-hey give that back!" he demanded.

I shook my head and promptly poured it out onto the ground. Bass glared at me, "That was mine."

"There's more. There's always more alcohol Bass."

He shuddered and dropped his face into his hands, "There isn't more. There's just this now. This god awful broken, lightless world."

I shook my head and leaned forward, laying my hand on his shoulder, "No Bass. We're going to find Ben and his wife, remember? We're going to get the power back."

Bass looked up at me suddenly, his eyes fierce. "What the hell does it matter? What does any of this matter?" he demanded. His hand moved from his lap and up to the table and my eyes widened at the sight of the gun in his grip.

Bass shook his head, "I've got nothing Becca. This world makes no sense."

I stared at the gun and then looked into his face, heartbroken at the look of utter loss and sorrow there. I moved off my chair and knelt beside him, reaching out to rest my hand on his, my fingers curling around the gun.

"You're right. This world makes no goddamn sense. But you're wrong about having nothing." I stared him in the eyes as I continued speaking, my left hand gripping his other arm tightly, "You have me. You have someone who will always have your back. I will always give you the best advice I can to keep you from doing something stupid. I will make sure you don't shoulder the burden alone."

I lifted my hand to his cheek, tears in my eyes, begging him with my gaze and words to hear and understand. "Do you get me? I'm here. You don't have to worry about going on without Shelley and Angela, because you'll carry them in your heart, and I'll be by your side."

Bass shuddered and tears slipped out, rolling down to fall against my hand. He nodded and took a heaving breath, wiping a hand over his face. I stared at him for a long moment before standing, taking his hand in mine.

He stared up at me and I smiled softly down at him, "Come on, it's time for bed." I saw the hesitance in his eyes and tugged on his hand until he stood. "You shouldn't be alone tonight" I murmured, "So stay here."

He nodded after a moment and sank down on my cot, untying his boots, setting them aside with his socks a moment later. His pants were off and on the ground, quickly followed by his shirt, leaving him in just his briefs.

He sank back against my pillow and I walked to the lantern, shutting off the gas, darkening the tent. Bare moonlight from the flap of the tent slit inwards and lit my path back to the cot. I slid beneath my blanket and curled towards Bass, resting my head on his shoulder.

His arm wrapped around my waist and he sighed softly.

We lay in silence for a long time until he whispered, "You think she'd be pissed at me right now?"

I smiled and shook my head softly. "No. She'd be glad that you have friends who care about you." Selfish Becca…selfish. Just because the woman knew you are in love with him doesn't mean you take advantage. I closed my eyes, silently willing my inner voice to shut up. I wasn't taking advantage.

I wasn't.

Bass sighed, "I miss her."

Shame shot through me and I swallowed hard, feeling like I had a scarlet letter on my chest. "I do too" I whispered.

We lapsed into silence and eventually his breathing softened, slowing until he was sound asleep. I lay staring at him while he slept, my emotions a mess.

The lyrics of one of my favorite songs ran through my head, "So what is left but a broken man, cuz nothing hurts the way a woman can."

It sure seemed that way.

AN: Okay, so as heartwrenching as this chapter was to write, I love it. I always wanted more from that flashback, and I feel like this kinda rounds Bass out more. I hope you enjoy the chapter and the story, please review, and thank you for following/favoriting! Also, the song inspirations for this chapter are "Way down we go" and "I can't go on without you" by Kaleo. So haunting.