Your reviews were all so very amazing, thank you so very much! I cannot tell you how much they mean to me and how they inspire me in my writing. So thank you guys!

This chapter starts right where we left Charlie, Bass with Miles and Connor. In that small hospital room, a long dark night. After Charlie has found a way to reach Bass. And Bass finally let somebody, Charlie, in.

Sunrise

Bass woke up with golden locks of hair and Charlie's head in his lap. His hand resting on her shoulder. Somehow just before the dark hours before sunrise she had fallen asleep against him, her body curled up on the chair next to him. Her breathing was slow and deep. The beams of sunlight that fell through a small gap between the closed and faded curtains touched her hair and skin.

She was covered with a soft blanket. Miles.

When almost fucking pathetic tears had escaped from the dark corners in his mind, Charlie had been there. Never giving him the feeling he was pathetic or embarrassing himself. He did not know how the hell she did that, but in everything she did, Charlie stayed strong, determined.

He had wanted to keep his eyes on Connor. Like he could will his son not to slip away from him that way since it only took minutes of him stepping outside a warm tent for his wife and girl to slip away, when he had not been watching them.

But somehow, just before sunrise he had crashed into a short dreamless sleep.

He heard Miles snoring behind him. He gently pulled his hand away from Charlie's shoulder and let his hand go over his face and through the rough and wild scruff of his beard.

Connor.

His kid looked like hell, all his attitude silenced, his dark curls glued against his forehead. He looked small. Pale. But he was breathing, he was here and god damn it, he was a Monroe. There was strength and one hell of a fighter in him.

The last time he had seen his son was when he had to leave him behind in a shed, together with that son of a bitch traitor Neville on the day Miles had the best idea ever, kidnapping the goddamn patriot President. He had some different ideas, like cutting the asshole's throat .

The last time he had seen his son, his own blood, his family, his son had tried to kill him. This time not because Gould hat put them in a cage in a fight to the death, but because of his son's free will. Bass had not been able to reach him, to make Connor understand why things had changed. Why he would still give his life up for his son in a heartbeat, but he could not meet Connor's dark desire for power.

Somehow, his story had become Connor's story.

It had broken his heart. It had broken any hope that was still there, not much, but some, of ever feeling what family meant. He had seen the pain on Connor's face, he had seen his own darkness reflected in his son's face and dark eyes. He had begged Connor to go back with him, fight their way through this.

Instead his kid had tried to shoot him.

And now, he was back. He was here. Somehow Connor had found his way back. The betrayal of his kid hurt like a knife in his gut, but this was his son, and no matter what would happen, he would be here if he woke up. What would happen next, Bass was not sure of that. But for now, Bass place was at his son's side.

Bass could hear the town start up for another day. But that was outside and it didn't matter. All what mattered to him right now, was right with him in this small room. Everybody that mattered was here between these four walls.

His eyes found Charlie again. He wanted to touch her hair, he wanted to feel her breath in the crook of his neck and feel the weight of her body against his own.

But something locked inside of him. Slowly demolishing his want to feel her close. Somehow he braced himself for something, as memories from his past reached him for a moment, too fast to catch the memory completely, but the face of another woman flashed before him, dark curls, warm smile, haunting him, before her face faded away.

Charlie felt how the sun woke her up, the sharp light in her face. She felt something soft covering her.

Snoring. Definitely Miles.

His scent, warmth of his body close around her. Definitely Bass.

And then she left that place between sleeping and being awake, and she remembered where she was. She remembered Bass' his face, his desperation. The image of Bass holding his son in his arms was one she would never forget, it was burned into her mind like his scar on her wrist.

She remembered the way Bass had cried into her hair. She remembered the overwhelming sense of compassion washing over her. In that little alcove in the middle of the night, consisting of dark silent hours where time seemed to stand still, he had let her in. She had let him in.

They had met somewhere on unfamiliar territory for the both of them.

She slowly opened her eyes and moved herself into a sitting position.

'Hey,' her voice was hoarse, she did not even recognised it as her own at this point.

'Hey,' his voice was raw and deep, and almost inaudible. There was a hint in his eyes, the way he sat next to her that touched something inside of her, gave her an unpleasant jolt deep inside of her. It was like the shadow of one single cloud moving in front of the sun on a summer day.

' You guys look like crap,' it was Miles voice behind them. Charlie turned around and gave her uncle a smile. ' Need some breakfast?'

Charlie nodded. Relieved that he wanted to get them breakfast, instead of wanting to break Bass' nose or wanting to yell at her for their moment a couple of hours ago.

Miles was almost out of the door when Bass finally spoke to him.

'Thanks brother.'

Charlie watched both men. She knew Bass was not talking about his offer to get something to eat for them. She knew Miles knew too. These two men could be a couple of stupid idiots, and she hid a smile at the clear way her uncle was uncomfortable with Bass his words.

'It's nothing, you morons sure look like you could use some food.' And with those words, and a badly hidden grin that made him 10 years yonger, Miles was out of the door.

A couple of days later

After Miles had gotten them breakfast, the light of a new day had seemed to change everything. In a slow and subtle way. Bass felt more, more of something and at the same time, less of something else to her. The shift was too small for anyone else to notice, but Charlie knew him too well, not to notice.

It was like one of those storms she could sense, even before they had hit their town, many years ago. Even though the sky had been perfectly all right, and there were no dark clouds in sight, Charlie could perceive the change in the elements around her.

Connor had woken up yesterday, but he was still weak, confused and not able to talk. He was into a state of being awake and was off to a place no one could reach him moments later. Cooper had given him a decent chance to get through it all. But it was still bed rest for him, and lot's of monitoring before they could even think about if he would leave the hospital.

The look on Bass' face, the look on his face when Connor had started to stir and mumble words that no one understood yet, had warmed Charlie with relieve. For a moment they had locked eyes and she forgot , just for a moment, about that one cloud before the sun.

Connor's return had brought her and Bass closer, but since he had woken up, she felt like they had been thrown back in time somehow. She had responsibilities, she had work to do, but she tried to spend as much time as she could with Bass, but also she made sure there was plenty of time for both of the men to just be. Days passed.

And now Charlie walked into the hallway of the small hospital. The sound of her boots were echoing around her. She had hoped to meet Bass here, but Sophie, the sweet nurse who was working through her day shift, informed her he would be here soon.

She walked into the light room, and noticed Connor was gaining some more colour on his face. She put her jacket in the window still, the Texan sun warming the room this late afternoon, before she sat down , leaning into the backside of the bed, facing Connor.

She knew something happened between Connor and Bass, but somehow Bass had never been ready to talk to her about it. She had respected that although she could not help but wonder what the hell happened.

She was lost in her own thoughts when a dead calm voice, too calm, too low, behind her jolted her right out of it.

'Do you need some more time together?' His voice was deep behind her. A cold shiver was going through her spine, when her mind connected the words to the man that was standing behind her.

'Excuse me?' She got up from the bed in one slow but determined movement and turned towards him, her body on edge, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She was not sure if this was really happening.

'You heard me.' his words a deep grunt, a coldness in his eyes that hit her like the time he had punched her in her stomach, years ago.

These were not the words of a man who had made it his primary goal to explore every part of her body with his hands and mouth. These were not the words of the man who gave her unlimited pleasure. These were not the words of the man she shared a bottle and stories with. These were not the words of the man that held her while she slept. These were not the words of the man that could make her laugh, that could comfort her.

Charlie recognised that look.

She was pulled back into a distant memory.

He had given her the same look when they just found what was left of Duncan's tribe, and Scanlon had offered him his services, the eager to please little rat.

After all, you need a leader with experience. And then he had stared at her.

Challenge, rawness but also something else in his eyes. It had been a mix from the General she once met in Philly and the Bass that was, already, showing his face more and more at that time. Well, at least to her.

The man standing in front of her now, at the other side of the room was more General Monroe than Bass. The dark gut feeling that was lingering around her had been right.

Here he was.

She really desperately wished she would prove herself wrong with her dark warning inside of her, just for once, but she had seen the changes in him, from the moment she had woken up in his lap a couple of days earlier.

She felt hurt, she felt betrayal, but to hell with showing him that she decided, her mind automatically jumping back to the place where she needed to be to face this part of the man that had somehow appeared in front of her.

'Seriously? After the hell from last days, you are going to throw that in my face?' She snapped at him.

After I have been there for you, after I let you close, after I started to believe, we could be more. After I felt, there was more. Charlie's thoughts were racing, a swirl of thoughts that kept battling with the actual words that came out of her mouth.

'Well, it sure looked like you had a nice little moment there, Charlotte,'

Fuck. Stop you son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing? But it was like that part of his brain was overruled by the memory of a night in Vegas. Of the thought he could lose her, lose her to Connor, hell, lose her to another man, any man, a better man. Lose her to life, lose her to death, to the impossibility of their pasts that were still there, that always would be placed between them.

Feeling Charlie close to him when he had needed her the most, it had reminded him of something that was too damn close to something like home. Decades ago, a lifetime ago when family and a home had felt like a natural thing, when there were people who found him worthy of being there for him when he had needed them. His parents, his sisters. Miles. Emma. Shelly.

The last time he had truly felt something like that, a connection, a place to belong, was with Shelly. And now, Charlie was here. And she had decided he had been man enough to give her a piece of herself.

It had ignited a raging battle inside of him. A dark impossible battle of wanting her, no fuck, it was more, of needing her and the demons inside of him that told him he could not want that, he could not afford to let somebody in that way, that he had to keep distance between whatever the fuck he felt for Charlie.

Because everybody he seemed to care about, died. Left. Took a piece of him with them, every damn time. Tried to kill him.

Because when he would lose her, when he would lose Charlie, there would be nothing left. There would be no end to that darkness.

It had been a raging battle and when he had walked into the room and saw Charlie sitting close to Connor, the demons had won.

Bass watched Charlie, blue eyes piercing their way into his. Not sure if she would launch herself at him when she closed the distance between them.

'You have no right to talk to me like this. No. Right.' She almost hissed at him, through her teeth.

'Is that so?' His tone border lined cruel. He was back, for that moment, the crude General was back.

'First of all, there was no moment. I told you before, Connor and I were a one night thing. ' Her eyes were fire and ice all at once, her tone was firm but he could hear emotions running through it. 'I am not here for him, I am here for you.'

She tilted her head back, and placed her boots firmly on the floor before him.

Bass was as tall as he ever was, standing right before her but she did not give a damn right now. She never gave a damn. He was acting like a son of a bitch and she had never taken any of his crap. She was not going to start now.

Fight him first, feel the sharp hurt insider later. Not now, god, Not. Now. That was how she had always dealt with Monroe.

'You think it it's easy for me to see you even remotely close to my mom in this town? You think the reminder of THAT night is easy for me?' She forced herself not to scream, anger washing all over her face.

She could see how Bass swallowed with difficulty, his lines pressed together in his signature way when her words hit him.

'But for me, the past is the past. And you know why? Because I trust you. I fucking don't know why. But I trusted you to not go there again. With her. This is about you and me. Nobody else. Because you have changed, and my feelings for you changed along the way.'

They stared at each other, standing close enough to feel each other's breaths hitting each other's faces. Bass was at an absolute loss for words when he heard Charlie's words.

'Maybe I was wrong, about any of this.' She tried to keep the distance in her voice, but she had failed miserably. Instead of distance, here words were slow, her tone low and defeated.

She turned away from him, grabbed her jacket and left the room without even looking at him.

Only when she was home, and locked the front door behind her, she allowed herself to stop fighting the salty tears that were now streaming over her cheek, like raindrops on a gloomy grey autumn day against the window. She felt how the anger made way to a wave of raw hurt, and she let herself glide down the front door, her back against the wood, until she reached the ground.

Bass stood nailed to the ground even long after he had heard the sound of her boots hitting the floor in the hallway, one devastating step she took away from him at the time, had faded away.

Bass sat on the couch, his couch. The apartment was dark, cold and Charlie seemed to be everywhere. He did not even bother to start a fire or make some light. He just wanted to blend in with the cold and the dark.

There was a void around him, and it was expanding rapidly, reminding him of the long years in Philly, after Miles had left. After his last family had left. He stared at the glass before him.

Maybe I was wrong about any of this.

Charlie had tried to kill him several times before, but this time she had actually pulled the fucking trigger.

And he could not blame her, because he had been one giant and harsh son of a bitch to her. She did not deserve this. He knew things between Connor and her had been over, she knew she had so much heart in her to want to see him recover, but he also knew that was it.

But somehow, something broke lose inside of him at the sight of her sitting on his bed. Fuck. His old darkness with a force of destruction had broken lose and had aimed its arrows at her. His old destructive self had decided it was the fucking perfect opening he needed to push her away from him. For good.

He tried to drink himself away of the hurt he saw in her eyes. He tried to tell himself this was for the best. It was better for her. He knew it was a lot of bullshit.

His bed was too big and too damn fucking cold without her. It was the first time in a very long time he drank himself into dark oblivion, and fell asleep with the aching knowledge she was not there. With the aching void of knowing he would never feel the warmth of her skin on his again. She would never give that part of her to him. He would never end up into a stand your ground argument with Charlie that was frustrating and turning him on at the same time. He would never see her stunning smile, the one that reached her eyes. He would never be able to hold her, to shield her.

And after today, Charlie would not want to be anything to him, with him, for him. Not after this.

What the fuck had he done.

When Charlie had sent herself to bed, although she was not sure why she even bothered, sunrise just around the corner,her mind never caught up with the idea of sleep. She lay there, in her clothes, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The room around her was dark, but she did not see that darkness. She saw him. She let herself go back to the hospital room, earlier today, a version of him that she had not seen in a while standing right in front of her.

She was not naive. She knew darkness would always reside in Sebastian Monroe, like it would always reside in herself. But she thought, she really thought they had met somewhere. That they had met in a place where they both could be something more than their pasts, their hurt, their damage.

She was not naive. She knew that there was so much still placed between them that they never touched. She knew that if they would want to become something more, they had to fight their way through it, through all of the mess. But since she was a fighter, it was in her Matheson blood, and this infuriating man had fighting and never let the fuck go when he fought for what he believed in running through him, they would have a chance.

But for him to treat her like this, with such a cheap shot, with such crude words, that was so typical him whenever he seemed to get hurt,

wait, wait, her mind whispered to herself, so typical him when he is hurt, think about that. Think, .

it had hurt more than she had shown him. It had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Because the simple and shattering truth was there in the dark with her. She cared for him. Somewhere along the road, she had actually started to give a damn about this man.

It was a too big of a truth for her right now. So she stared at the ceiling, and let time move along without her.

When she reached the point where she didn't know where the mattress ended and her body began, and her eyes were fixed so much on one point she was not sure she ever could or wanted to move them again, she heard a soft knock. The sound reached her but her mind decided not to react.

Another soft knock.

This time her mind decided otherwise.

When she opened the door, Bass was leaning against the doorway. Hands in his pockets. His shoulders low, his head slightly down, misery all over his face. His eyes, unsure, dark, finally found hers for a moment, the same way they had found her after he had knocked Neville out with Miles, next to the train.

She could smell whiskey on his breath, but she knew he was not drunk. Not anymore. He was sobering up. Dark and miserable. She knew she should slam the door right in his face, but she could not find the energy to do it.

She was still holding the door in her hand. He was still leaning into the doorway. She did not invite him in, he did not even made an effort to move. Distance between them, darkness. Both of them miserable.

When Bass finally spoke, his eyes fixed on a point on the floor, after swallowing hard, his words were a low mutter and Charlie wondered how so much pain could hide in so very little words when Bass his voice reached her.

'Her name was Shelly.'

Thank you, as always, for reading! There was some heavy drama in this chapter, but I really think, Bass and Charlie together can be dark, and there is still darkness in Bass. Darkness and his dark fear to lose anything or anyone else. I will work on the next chapter soon, and publish as fast as I can, because you guys, are all amazing. :) So, until another chapter, I really hope to meet you there again! Love from Love