Their obligation finished, Rachel and Gene walked home. Neither one had anything to say. Miles had already made his way back and was semi-passed out, snoring on the couch. Gene poured himself a drink and retired to his bedroom. Even though he had told Bass that he was happy to be the one putting him down, it still weighed heavy, going against all that he was as a doctor.
When Rachel was sure that her father was settled, she went about rousing Miles, shaking his shoulder, "Miles!" No response, she shook him harder. "Miles!" she whispered loudly.
"Wha…? Rachel?"
"I need you to come with me, now."
"Nah…I don't think so," and he turned on his side, facing the back of the couch.
"Miles, you have to wake up! You have to come with me; I need your help."
Rachel got him to sit up then gave him a large glass of water. "Ugh…" he said, screwing up his face.
"So, what's so damn important?" he slurred.
"Follow me. Come on, Miles, we've got to hurry."
Miles shook his head, went to the kitchen, wet his head over the sink, then followed Rachel out the back door.
"Where are we going, and why are we going outside the town walls? Rachel, come on, what's going on."
"Monroe's alive, and we have to hurry if we want to keep him that way. We've got to dig him up."
"Dig him up? Alive? How?"
"I switched the med. Now hurry!"
They reached the cart, and Rachel led him to Monroe's unmarked grave. Handing Miles a shovel, they started digging. The recently dug soil was soft, so it went quickly. Before too long, Miles' shovel hit the lid of the pine casket.
"Rach, did you think to bring a crowbar?"
"Yeah, Dad had one in the garage," she handed it to him.
Miles used the crowbar to pry the lid from Bass' coffin. It was creepy seeing him lying in there.
"Get the rope and tie one end of it to the horse and toss me the other end," Miles instructed. Rachel tossed the rope to Miles. He tied it under Bass' arms and around his chest. "Okay, Rachel, pull him up slowly." Rachel walked the horse a few paces while Miles guided Monroe out of the hole. Once he was out, Rachel looked him over quickly while Miles replaced the lid on the coffin. Then with Rachel, they filled in the now-empty grave.
That done, they got Bass into the cart. "What's the next part of your plan?" Miles asked her.
"The old Miller farm. The house is in fairly good shape. We stash him in one of the bedrooms until he comes around."
Arriving at the farm, Miles got Bass in a fireman's carry, brought him upstairs to one of the bedrooms, and settled him onto the bed.
"Miles, stay with him, keep him on his side. I'm going to get Charlie."
Rachel took the horse and cart back to Gene's with her. She would return the cart to their neighbor tomorrow. It was shortly after three in the morning, and being careful not to wake her father, she went up to Charlie's bedroom, knocked softly, then opened the door.
"Charlie…" Rachel whispered.
She was awake, not being able to sleep. She keeps seeing Bass's face as he shuffled past her and into the courthouse. Wiping a tear, Charlie answers. "What do you want, Mom. Here to tell me how you did the right thing? How now everything is right with the world?"
"No, Miles sent me. He needs you to come with me to the old Miller farm." She told Charlie that Miles wanted her knowing that she probably wouldn't go for her.
"Now?"
"He said it was important."
Charlie slid out of bed, slipped on her pants and top, went to the pitcher of water on her dresser, washed her face, and then followed her mother to the kitchen, where she put on her boots.
"He said to grab your pack; you might be gone for a few days."
"Mom, what's going on? Is it the Patriots?"
"Wait for Miles. Come on, let's go."
The bright full moon lit the way as they walked in silence to the sound of crickets and other night creatures. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the old farmhouse. Rachel went in first and gave a little whistle. Miles responded and Rachel led Charlie up the stairs to the bedroom where Monroe still lay unconscious.
"In here," Rachel said to Charlie.
Charlie stepped into the bedroom, and at first, saw only Miles. "Miles? What's up?" Then she saw Bass. She was stunned, speechless. "How? Mom? Is he alive?" Charlie stammered. "I thought they took him out in a coffin and buried him. Aaron saw then leave through the gates."
"We dug him up; he wasn't dead."
"But how?" trying her best not to cry with relief.
"I switched the meds. Your grandfather doesn't know. He thinks that he administered the lethal dose."
"What did you give him?" Miles asked.
"Enough barbiturate to drop a horse, make him look dead."
"My God…" Charlie whispers. "Why? Why did you do it?"
"Because you told me how he saved your life. I owed him, and Miles said that we still needed him. And he's right."
Charlie is trying to wrap her head around the fact that Bass is alive.
"Charlie, Miles, and I need to get back before your grandfather gets up. You stay here and look after him. Make sure he doesn't choke if he gets sick. If he wakes up, try and get him to drink as much as you can." Rachel removes a large container of water from her pack. "I've packed you some food."
"Keep watch, Charlie," Miles says to her. "We'll be back when we safely can." Then he hugs her close.
Rachel walks out the door to the bedroom then turns back to Charlie. "Don't think that this changes anything; I still hate him for what he's done."
Charlie went to the window and watched them go just as the sun was showing itself. She left the window, went over to the bed, and sat on the edge. Charlie cupped Bass' cheek. "I can't believe you're alive," she said softly. Then, "you're filthy; let's get you cleaned up."
Going down to the kitchen. She gathered some wood and lit the stove. Then Charlie found a large pot, brought it out to the well, and filled it. While the water warmed, she returned to the bedroom, checked on him. She explored the other bedrooms and grabbed a tattered sheet. She ripped it into pieces to use as a washcloth and towel. Then went to get the warm water.
Dipping the cloth in the water, she started with his face and began washing the dirt from him. Struggling, she was able to remove his shirt, but not his tee-shirt. That she cut off using her hunting knife. (Sorry, Monroe.) Charlie went on to wash his arms, chest, and abdomen. She couldn't help but notice his muscular shoulders, chest, and stomach. (Even dirty, you're beautiful.) His boots and socks came off next, followed by his pants. (Commando? It figures) chuckling to herself. Once he was clean, she brought a quilt in from the other room and switched out the sheet that had been covering him.
Charlie went back down to the kitchen, dumped out the muddy water, and got a fresh pot full. Rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, she came up with a shallow pan.
Back in Bass' room, she lifted his head off the pillow, placed the shallow pan under his head, and rinsed out his hair with the fresh water she had brought.
After cleaning up, Charlie sat on the side of the bed, watching him for a moment as she carded her fingers through his curls. Then she bent and placed a kiss on his cheek.
With Bass settled, she took his clothes to the kitchen, washed them in the sink, and hung them to dry over the curtain bar in the bathroom. She returned to Bass' room, checked that he was breathing okay, then got some bread and jam from Rachel's pack.
Charlie had gone scavenging through the house, came up with a book to read, and settled in a chair by the window, waiting for Bass to wake and for Miles or her mother to return. She dozed for about an hour, woke up hungry, and had more bread and jam. It was late afternoon, sixteen hours since Bass' 'execution.' While she was eating, Bass began to stir, she went and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Bass? Hey…Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?" She said as she caressed his cheek.
He slowly peeled his eyes open, looking very dazed. "Charlie?" he croaked.
"I'm here, Bass."
"Where am I? Am I dead?" he asked drunkenly.
Charlie chuckled, "No, you're not dead," she said, stroking his cheek. "Let me get you some water." Holding his head up, she brought the cup to his lips, and he took a few sips.
"Thank you…I'm not dead?"
"You're not dead. You're going to be okay. You just need to rest some more. It's going to take some time for the drug to wear off."
"Charlie? How am I not dead?"
"I asked my mother to save you, and she did."
"Thank you," he slurred, then closed his eyes and was out again. Then a minute later, he opened his eyes again, "Charlie, am I naked?"
"You were filthy, had to clean you up. Don't worry, I was a perfect lady."
He giggles.
"Did you just giggle?" she laughs. "Sorry, I had to cut your tee-shirt off."
"Huh… it was my favorite," giggling again then fading out.
Rachel and Miles returned at 5:00. "Has he been awake at all?" Rachel asked as she walked into the room.
"Yeah, for just a minute," Charlie responds.
Miles goes over to his friend and brother and taps his cheek. "Hey, Bass! Open your eyes! Come on, Buddy."
Bass peels his eyes open; they feel so heavy. "Hey…You missed me," slurring his words drunkenly.
"What?"
"You're my best friend," Bass tells him with a goofy smile then closes his eyes.
"Yeah, okay, that's enough," Miles said, looking uncomfortable.
Charlie smirks… (Stoned Monroe is cute)
"Bass! Bass!" Miles shouts, and Bass opens his eyes again. "Can you get up?"
"Miles, I can't even lift my arms."
"Rachel, how long before he's back?"
"A couple of days at least."
"Miles," Bass mumbles. "Where's my son? You have to tell me."
"Okay, Bass. Let's get you up and moving first."
It was getting dark when Rachel and Miles left. Charlie closed the tattered drapes across the window to block out any light from her lantern and candles. Settling in, she ate the stew that Rachel had brought her.
A few hours later, Bass' calling for her brought her out of her doze.
"Bass? Some more water?"
"Yeah, that'd be good."
"Can you hold the cup yet?"
Bass tried to lift his arm and only succeeded in raising it a few inches off the bed, "guess not," he giggled, and Charlie laughed.
Charlie positioned herself so he could lean on her while he drank some water, then she laid him back down.
Then… "Charlie, lay with me… please?"
Charlie shook her head in wonder then stretched out on the bed next to him. Laying on her side, she draped her arm across his chest.
"I love you," Bass whispers.
Charlie stiffened. "I'm sorry, blame it on the drugs, if you want."
"Sleep, Bass," she said, placing a kiss on his shoulder.
As she lay there with Bass, Charlie began thinking of the past few months. About the months she spent hunting him down, how she tracked him to New Vegas, and then as her hate and anger lessened, getting to know him and of the truth of what had happened with the formation of the Republic. She came to realize that Miles shared a lot of the blame for the way things were. Miles, however, was forgiven. In fact, as much as she loves him, it's like he and everyone else has forgotten the part that he played. (Maybe he hasn't forgotten but chooses to ignore it).
She thought about her time on the road with Bass and how she could see his genuine remorse once she was able to put aside the hate. She caught glimpses of who he was before everything turned to shit- thanks, Mom- eventually seeing the man that was the soldier with Miles. The man who loved his wife, who looked after his sisters and cared for his parents. She saw a lonely, broken man.
"I forgive you, Bass," she whispers. "And I don't want to pretend it was the drugs," kissing his shoulder once more.
Bass smiles and drifts off to sleep again.
It's been twenty-four hours since he was led into the courthouse. He wakes again feeling the comfort of someone lying next to him… (Charlie…).
Charlie felt him move, and she sat up. "You're awake…how're you doing?" Getting up, she lights the lamp using the small candle that she had left burning.
"Better, I think. Still a little high. How long has it been?"
Charlie checks the watch that was her grandmother's, a gift from her grandfather. "A little over twenty-four hours."
Bass tries to raise his arm, and this time he's successful. He wipes his face, his eyes.
"Here," Charlie hands him a wet cloth.
"Charlie? I'm naked."
"Yeah, we established that the last time you woke up," she snickers. "Your clothes were full of dirt. I washed them. They should be dry now. Do you want to try sitting?"
"Yeah."
Charlie helps him up, and he dangles his long legs off the side of the bed, keeping the blanket across his lap and using his arms for balance.
"Are you okay? I'll go and get your clothes."
"I think so."
"If you fall, I won't be able to get you up."
"I'll be okay."
Charlie came back with his things. "Pants first? Here let me help." She slips his feet into the pant legs then pulls them up to his thighs. "Lift your ass if you can."
Bass is shaky, but he manages a couple of inches, just enough to get his pants over his hips, all the while keeping the blanket in place. He fumbles, trying to close them. "Leave them, well get them when you lay back down. Do you want your shirt?"
"Not yet, thanks…some water, please?"
"Sorry, of course."
He drinks down a cup.
"Do you want to try to stand?"
"Uhh…don't think I can without falling over, but…I really need to take a leak."
"I'll get you something..." she left for the kitchen to find another pot. She handed it to him.
"Are you going to be okay?" hoping he will say yes.
"I'll manage."
"Okay, I'll leave you to it. Just give a holler."
Bass finishes, calls to her, and she takes the pot away.
"My mother left some broth. Would you like some?"
"Maybe a little."
Charlie fixed his pillows against the headboard of the bed so he could sit. She put some broth in a cup for him to sip. When he finished, he was ready to lay back down.
"Charlie, thank you for helping me and for saving my sorry ass."
"Not ready to be rid of you yet, Monroe," she teases. "You've grown on me. Rest, maybe you'll be able to get up in the morning."
Charlie had dragged a twin mattress into the room for her to sleep on and settled in for the night. She woke in the morning to find Bass sitting in the chair next to the window, looking towards Willoughby. The sun was already above the trees.
"You're up! How're you feeling?"
"Like I've been kicked in the head by a horse. What did she give me?"
"I'm not exactly sure. She said it was enough barbiturate to take down the horse that's kicking you. Enough to convince grandpa and those dickheads that you were dead."
"So, the Patriots and Texas think that I'm dead and in the ground."
"Pretty much."
"I guess that I am going to have to stay in hiding."
"Well, at least for a while. Do you think you can make it downstairs?"
"I don't know; I had all I could do to get over here. I'm still pretty unsteady. I used the pot that you left me. I'm sorry, I can't empty it."
"No problem. Want to eat? I have some bread and jam, or I can warm some stew."
"Thanks, but I don't think that I can eat yet."
Two days have passed, and Bass is finally feeling somewhat normal. Miles had just arrived at the farm to check-in and talk about their next move.
"Bass, if you can move, I think we should get you away from here. You're too close to Willoughby and those khaki bastards. There's an old barn with a cellar underneath. I think that will work well as a safe house for now. I'll take you there tomorrow."
"Miles, I've got nothing. Everything I had was in that shed. Got no clothes or weapons. I'll bet they didn't leave it. I'm sure they even took the horses. Why wouldn't they."
"Actually, I saw someone auctioning your swords. Charlie and I will get some things together for you. Gotta find you at least one sword and a knife. Sit tight. Are you alright here for tonight?"
"Yeah, I'll be alright. What time will you be back?"
"Probably late afternoon tomorrow. Charlie, all set?"
"Yup, I'll meet you outside, just going to gather my crap."
Miles quirked a brow, then went outside. Charlie got her pack and went into the kitchen to say goodbye to Bass.
"Charlie, thank you for getting me through this."
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow," then she stepped over to him, reached up and kissed his cheek before turning and striding from the kitchen. Bass touched his cheek and smiled.
Miles and Charlie arrived back in town and started in on outfitting Bass. While Miles went looking for a pack and weapons, Charlie went looking for clothes and a bedroll. There was a cart selling used clothes, and she was positive a few things were Monroe's. She was able to get him two tees and a flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, and two pairs of socks. She picked up a canteen, cook pot, and a hunting knife in another store that sold camping gear. She also found two reasonably heavy blankets in fair condition and a towel.
As Charlie was organizing her purchases, she was approached by a Patriot patrol. "Planning a trip?" the sergeant asked her.
"I'm going out for a few days, do some hunting."
"Looks like you've got men's clothes there."
"Yeah, while I was shopping, I saw some things for my brother."
"Watch yourself out there. There's a lot of unsavory types running around."
"I'm always careful, and I can take care of myself." The sergeant continued to watch her for a moment, then they finally moved on. Charlie took a deep breath. They would have to be extra cautious when they left town.
Miles had seen the Patriot patrol approach Charlie and watched while staying out of sight. Once they moved on, he joined her.
"What did they want?"
"They noticed the things that I got and got nosey. We're going to have to be careful."
"Yeah. Here, I got a pack." They put all of Bass' new provisions in the pack that Miles was able to find. There was a guy that Miles knew who had a collection of weapons in a basement that he was keeping hidden from the Patriots. Miles was able to get what he needed from him. He slipped the extra sword and knife onto his belt then he hefted Bass' new pack. He and Charlie headed for Gene's, where they stashed the pack and weapons in the garage-barn.
At the town's stables, Miles was able to replace one of the horses that Bass had lost when the Patriots took him. He hooked him up with a handsome chestnut gelding and saddle. The livery owner owed Miles for finding and rescuing his little girl when she went missing a couple of weeks before. She had been taken by a couple of scumbags that were planning on selling her. Miles came across them camped near the river. They didn't even know what hit them. He brought the little girl home, and her grateful father told Miles that he would take care of him if he ever needed anything.
Later that evening, Miles met with Charlie while cleaning the horse stalls. "Seeing that we were able to get everything that we needed, and with all of the Patriot activity, we should head back to the idiot in the morning instead of later. We'll leave after breakfast. I'll take off…Gene is used to me disappearing… then you follow. Tell Gene that you're going hunting."
"Alright."
Shortly after sunrise, Miles took off with the excuse of scouting Patriot activity in the area. Soon after that, Charlie left on her "hunting trip".
Bass had been sitting in the upstairs bedroom window and saw them approaching. He went outside to meet them.
"I wasn't expecting you until later."
"Things are heating up," Miles explained. "We needed to move up the timetable. Are you able to ride?"
"Yeah, I should be okay. He's a beauty, is he mine?" Bass asked as he stroked the big chestnut's nose.
"The livery guy owed me. See if you can hang on to this one," Miles said sarcastically.
"Dick."
"Can we get going?" Charlie asked, getting impatient.
Mile's new safe house was a little less than ten miles from there. With two stops for Bass, they made it in three and a half hours.
The safe house was really an old barn with a storage cellar. The walls were lined with jars of preserved food long since past. There was some old furniture and a mattress. Bass carried his new pack inside then said goodbye to Miles and Charlie.
"Try and stay out of trouble. We'll be back in a few days," Miles told him.
"I'm still kind of messed up. I'll be lying low." When Miles wasn't looking, Bass gave Charlie's hand a squeeze. "Gonna miss you, Charlotte," he whispered.
"Me too."
"Alright, Kid, let's get going," Miles announces.
Bass watches them until they are out of sight, makes sure his new mount is settled, then retires to his new digs.