Hey everyone, after working on Things Change I wrote another chapter for this story! I planned four of five chapters, but we're already at chapter 11. :) Charlie and Bass demand more chapters, and of course, who am I to say no to that?
I do not own Revolution, this is just a daydream of what could have happened too!
Mentioning what Bass did for her that night, mentioning it in front of her family had ripped an old wound open.
With her eyes closed, Charlie was pulled back into the bar in Portsboro. The memories had come back to her with such strength lately. The practical side in her had moved on, she had not allowed herself to feel, not wanting to remember. She had moved on, months and months between her and that one night, but apparently those memories had been closer to the surface then she had thought.
When the wave of panic and disgust started to die down, the feeling of his touch became more clear. She felt his hands cupping her cheeks, she felt the tears that were flowing freely. She leaned into his touch. She felt how Bass moved his hands, one hand finding its way to the back of her head, his other hand loosely resting on her shoulder blades.
It was the first time she had not stopped the wave, and at the moment she was sure the wave would hit her with enough strength to crush her, it had evaporated. Charlie let her forehead rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his shirt.
'I came here for you,' it was almost a whisper, when Charlie spoke again.
She took one step back, and used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the last tears from her cheeks. Bass was standing before her, looking at the ground, his left boot shoving away some dirt.
'I meant every word I said earlier back there,' this time Charlie found more strength in her voice. He was still not looking at her, but she knew he was listening. 'Whatever will happen from here on, I meant those words.'
Finally Bass looked at her, his eyes deep. It was one of those rare moments, she almost didn't recognize the man in front of her. It was the kind of look that made her want to take one step closer to him instead of putting distance between them, distance with the all too familiar loathing and hatred.
'Why?' His voice hoarse.
She looked at him with question in her eyes.
'Why did you break Connor and me out in Vegas?' There was a hint of hesitation in his voice.
Charlie took a deep breath.
'I could have, I could have walked away,' Charlie's voice was clear, 'I knew that would mean that you would be dead in less than 24 hours.' She looked away from him for one moment before she continued.
'I have wanted you dead for so long. You are still an impossible son of a bitch. But here's the thing, leaving you behind to die in that hell hole, killed by your own son, just wasn't an option. Not everything after you have done for me.'
She watched Monroe fiddling with the hilt of his sword, the lines of his face relaxing slowly. There was silence between them.
He then reached a hand out for her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, brushing his thumb along her cheek.
'Monroe!,'
Charlie recognised Scanlon's voice, coming from a point behind Bass. Bass turned his head to the sound and then back to her, when he took one step back. Charlie was aware of the swift shift in energy between them.
'You have to go, Charlie,' he grunted.
Charlie knew he was right. But she didn't want to go because she knew the moment she would walk away they would both cross a line. A line that meant they stopped being on the same side. She could already see the change in his eyes, the change in his posture, when she forced herself to start walking, away from him, their eyes still locked for one last moment. It took every single bit of her will power to tear herself away from his gaze, and turn around.
When she had felt his touch, his fingers tangled in her hair she had felt a need for something else deep within her. She forced herself to keep up her pace, concentrating on planting her boots firmly on the ground to her to keep her going.
It was an impossible kind of need, that made her head spin. Slowly the realisation set in that her anger for Monroe, for that one night in Philly, was more than anger for what it would do to Miles when he would find out, more than anger she felt for her mothers actions.
She had no other choice then to push that thought as far out of her system as she could. It didn't matter anymore. Today, everything had changed again. It was a bitter feeling that she could feel in the back of her throat.
When she reached their safe house she felt exhausted. A strange hollowness surrounding her. She walked head on into a conversation between Miles, her mother, her grandfather and Marion who had close connections to Truman and apparently had some history with her grandfather. He trusted her enough to fill her in about the mustard gas, and use her as a source of information.
Charlie leaned into an empty story counter, carefully avoiding her mothers and Miles eyes, listening to Marion talking about the lists she had found, implicating there would be more mustard gas coming Willoughby's way.
Their group felt smaller in a weird way, but Charlie did not give herself much time to contemplate about that feeling, trying to concentrate on new trouble ahead.
Bass watched Charlie walk away, her deep blue's piercing into his before she had turned around. He could steal feel the touch of her forehead against his chest. He could still here her words echoing in his mind.
He had always wondered why she had come back for him in Vegas, and he always thought it would be about Connor and her stubbornness to walk away from a fight. Hearing her talk about Vegas earlier that night, made him finally wanting to ask her that question.
Her answer, the deep calm in her tone. He didn't deserve her words, he didn't deserve her gratitude. Hell, not everything he had destroyed. When he had tucked the little lock of hair behind her ear, seeing something in her eyes that almost pulled him in too close, it had been Scanlon's voice that had pulled him back to reality.
He wondered how the fuck she had gotten under his skin. At first, in Philly he was fascinated by her complete lack of fear for him, meeting him head on. She could be infuriating, stubborn with deadly looks but god, she was Charlie.
He could hear Scanlon shouting his name again.
It didn't matter anymore, he told himself. All that mattered now was his son. All that mattered now was payback for everything those patriot sons of bitches had ever done, Randall Flynn using him, the patriots framing him for wiping out two complete cities. His city. Their city.
He reached their camp place, ready to grunt an all clear to Scanlon when he saw Connor, a knife shoved against his sons throat. Bass looked directly in the eyes of Tom Neville.
3 days later
'We're going to steal a train.'
Charlie had raised an eyebrow when she listened to Miles, a hint of amusement going through her. She had heard some stupid things come out of her uncle's mouth, but his newest plan was one of the better ones. Sure Miles, why not?
It had been a bright morning, and they had gathered outside their safe house. Charlie had listened to her grandfather who was talking to Miles. Her mother and Marion listening in as well.
In the last few days they had been able to put their hands on more information that eventually lead them to a train, with one big and full tank of more mustard gas. The gas would probably go to Austin, the patriots would use it to gass the whole city, framing California who would then go to war with Texas. And when that was done, the only thing the patriots had to do was step in and take everything that was left behind.
Charlie did not need much time to understand how close things were to crumbling apart. Stealing the train, preventing the gas from reaching its final destination was their only play.
Her mother would stay behind, because as always when things were close to going to hell, they just got a little bit worse. Aaron and Priscilla had disappeared, and Rachel would be the one who would deal with that mess.
And now Charlie found herself on top a moving train, the steam of the train going over her head, laying on her stomach, close to Miles shooting the last patriot that stood between them and stealing the train.
Joe, a friend of Marion's was controlling the train. It was actually his daughter who had sneaked them into the train yard, her daily lunch supply trip to the patriots the perfect cover for them to sneak in, hidden in her wagon.
They were still accelerating, the last lsunight of the day finding its way through the leaves above her, shadows flying over her face.
It had been a long time ago since she felt this connection with Miles, just him and her, in another fight. When the last patriot dropped dead from the train, by one of Miles flawless shots, Charlie looked at Miles, and found herself looking at an not so familiar side. Miles was laughing, bright deep eyes.
'Pull the whistle Joe, we just stole a train,' Miles screamed to the front of the train.
And when the whistle sounded, the high sound in the air, Charlie couldn't help but joining Miles, howling in the air. For one moment she was able to forget everything what still lay outside there, waiting for them.
They didn't run into any problems, that was until Charlie felt the train slowing down. There were big wooden logs laying on the rails ahead, preventing them go any further. She followed Miles when he climbed outside the train. Both on edge, weapons near, ready for anything.
'Hey Miles,' Charlie felt how her heart missed a beat. She knew that voice, the deep low grunt in his voice. ' Drop 'em.'
Charlie slowly turned around. Bass gun aimed at Miles when he spoke those words, Connor's gun aimed at her. Seriously?
Bass' eyes were darker than normal. 'Sorry Miles, but we are stealing your train.'
And then she saw him. Tom Neville. The memory of his gun to her head closed her throat. Neville was here. The first hint of numbness came over her.
It was Neville, who had spoken about marching to Washington to kill every last patriot as the ultimate revenge for losing his wife and son, who had woken a part in him. When Bass realised Neville wasn't here to kill his son, but to form some kind of alliance, he felt the same hunger for revenge.
If Miles didn't want to do what was necessary, he would find a way himself. He still thought Neville was a son of a bitch, but right now, they wanted the same. Neville told him the patriots would transport more mustard gas, for a larger scale attack. He knew when and where the transport would go down, giving them the chance to take over the train and drive the mustard gas straight into Washington.
Bass knew Miles well enough that he would come to the same conclusions. So they would leave him that job, their only job was to steal the train back from him.
They dragged as much wood as they could get their hands on to the rails. When darkness fell they could hear the train approach. It wasn't before long he saw Miles climbing out of the train, Charlie not far ahead. Bass decided to put Connor on her, wanting to keep Neville away from her. He would take care of Miles.
He didn't want to waste any time, stepping out of the darkness, behind Miles. 'Drop the gun. Now'.
Miles and Charlie dropped their weapons to the ground, Neville holding Gene and Joe at gunpoint a bit further ahead.
'So Bass, what exactly are you planning to do with all that mustard gas,'? Irritation in Miles his voice.
Charlie wasn't that surprised to see Bass here. She had already expecting him earlier.
'I'm going to drive it in the heart of D.C., burning the place to the ground.' His voice intense, low.
Charlie felt her stomach sink into her shoes. The tone in his voice, the dark intense look in his eyes told her enough. Did she make one hell of a mistake believing in a different part of him?
'And that's what we should be doing, you and me. I swear to god Miles, I honestly don't know what the hell happened to you.' Bass had stepped closer to Miles.
Charlie heard the change in Bass his voice, when he continued. She could almost hear a hint of pain and confusion under the darkness of his tone.
'I genuinely don't understand.' Bass eyes were still on Miles for a moment, before he turned around and walked to the train.
'Let's go boys,' Bass nodded at Neville and Connor.
Time slowed down to an almost sudden stop, when Charlie saw how Tom Neville turned his body towards her in a precise slow motion movement that brought shivers to her spine, stepping forward to her. His gun firmly aimed at her.
'Woo Tom, what are you doing?' Miles shouted at Neville, while he tried to step between Neville and Charlie, but he was too late.
Charlie could hear Miles' strong voice, the sound coming from somewhere far away. A intense paralysing fear shooting through her body that made it impossible to move, that made it almost impossible to breathe.
He had brought Neville here. Bass brought Neville here.
The numbness was spreading to her body.
'She murdered my boy Miles, she murdered Jason.' Tom 's face was filled with the absolute resolution of doing just one thing.
'She didn't kill him, Tom. You know that, the patriots did.' Miles desperately tried to get through to Tom.
'Tom? Get on the train now,' Bass growled.
Bass looked at Charlie, for a moment. Her face white as a sheet, hands dangling next to her body, defeat, fear and despair on her face.
Neville didn't move.
'Get on the train or I will drop you right now.' He closed the distance between him and Neville within seconds, reaching for his weapon, aiming it at Tom's head. Rage was taking over, the muscles in his neck clearly visible with complete tension, A deep cold fist clenched around his throat.
What the fuck did he do?
There was another gun glued to Charlie's head, and he was standing next to the man holding the gun yet again. Only this time it wasn't Strausser, but Neville. And he knew the son of a bitch well enough to know Neville wouldn't stop at anything.
When he saw Neville's finger move, ready to pull the trigger he stepped in, lashed out and hit his gun out of his hand. Miles was with him in seconds, knocking Tom out with a fast and hard hit on his head. The gun went off, a bullet flying straight into the tank with mustard gas. Bass locked eyes with Miles for a moment, who's eyes went to Charlie for one quick moment and then to the tank of gas.
He knew the deadly gas should be his priority, but the only thing he cared for right now, was her. He looked up slowly, dreading to meet her eyes. She stood there absolutely frozen to the ground, her eyes big with numbness, her breathing shallow and fast. There was the smallest hint of a nod in them. He didn't let go of her eyes, he didn't let go of her.
Hey everyone, thank you for reading! I will update another chapter soon. I am currently also working on Things Change and It takes two, but I will do my best to continue the story as fast as I can.
