Monroe wakes up abruptly. He claws at his throat, coughing and gagging. In his dreams he is still dangling from that rope. In the haste of their escape, Charlie has not thought to remove the remnants of the noose. It still encircles his neck. He tears at it, panicked and unaware of his surroundings. The wagon moves at breakneck speed as they try to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Chicago. Rachel takes the reins from her father, slowing the horses down just enough for him to clamber safely into the back of the wagon.
"Hold him down," Gene barks at Charlie. She uses all her weight to pin his shoulders to the bed of the wagon as Gene shoves Monroe's hands aside to remove the noose. Still gasping, he struggles against them, running on pure instinct – desperate to get away. He strikes out at Gene, clipping the older man in the jaw. Monroe's eyes are wild, unseeing. Charlie realizes that he is completely unaware of what is going on around him. "Mom!" she calls to Rachel as she throws herself on top of Monroe, trying to keep him pinned down.
In his state, Monroe is like a wounded animal. He is dangerous and she needs to get him calmed down before he hurts them or causes himself further damage. Rachel pulls the horses to a stop. The animals are panting and foaming with exertion. They have been traveling at this speed for hours. Rachel jumps into the back of the wagon. She straddles his legs to keep him from kicking, holding them down with all of her weight.
Gene recovers from the hit and takes over at Monroe's shoulders. He is not as strong as Charlie, but he does outweigh her, and right now, weight is what they need. Charlie sits in front of her mother straddling his hips, squeezing them with her thighs to keep him still. It crosses her mind very briefly what she is sitting on. She shakes the random thought away and focuses. She places her hands on the sides of his face, holding his head still. Gene has made her very aware that the rope could have damaged one of the vertebrae in his neck. If this is the case, his thrashing could very well end in paralysis.
"Look at me," she commands softly. "Look at me. Shhh…"
Her voice slowly breaks through the fog that surrounds him. Monroe's thrashing slowly subsides. He lies there, panting and gasping for breath as his vision clears and he sees her above him. Charlie's blue eyes are filled with both concern and determination. She bends closer to him. "It's over – you're safe. We've got you. It's okay." She runs on, crooning to him softly as he slowly calms down. Eyes wide, he nods his understanding. He tries to say something but it comes out as a croak. He closes his eyes, frustrated.
The attempt to talk was excruciating. Each breath he takes burns and tortures his abused throat. Everything hurts and he is so tired. Rachel gets off of his calves and jumps down to see to the horses. Confident that Charlie has him under control now, Gene joins her. They are almost to the rendezvous point and they need to keep moving. Connor will have sent men to scour the area. They need to hurry up and get off the road.
As the wagon lurches forward, Monroe groans. This causes him to cough again. Charlie helps him to sit up and holds a canteen to his lips. He drinks greedily, ignoring the sharp pains as he swallows. The water is soothing. Charlie sets the canteen aside. She pulls a flask out and hands it to him. His hands are shaking as he takes it from her. She holds a finger to her lips, indicating that he should keep it between them. Charlie figures that if anything it will dull some of the pain she knows he is in – physically and otherwise. The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it's a good kind of burn. Monroe nods his appreciation. Liquid duct tape, fixes everything, he thinks to himself wryly.
Charlie settles him back down. Gene will need to look him over later, but for now meeting up with the others is their top priority. She hesitates for a second before she changes her position. She sits now with his head in her lap. The intimacy makes her slightly uncomfortable, but Gene has pulled off of the main road and the wagon is jarring him.
Absently, Charlie brushes his hair off of his forehead. Monroe looks up into her eyes questioningly as she does this. Realizing what she has done, Charlie blushes and then looks away. She refuses to look at him when she does it again a few minutes later. The contact is soothing, and he closes his eyes. He falls asleep to the feel of her hands gently stroking his hair.
When he next wakes up, Monroe is no longer in the wagon. The mid-spring sun is high in the sky now, indicating that it was midday. The sunlight filters through the tree limbs above him. He can hear the sound of running water a short distance away. A river? Creek? He wonders. Gene Porter's face comes into view. Monroe furrows his brows in confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on around him. His torn shirt has been removed. He tries to sit up, but cool hands pin his shoulders gently to the bedroll under him. "Hold still. Let him check you." the faceless voice belongs to Rachel Matheson. She sounds detached, almost clinical. For the first time since he's known her, Monroe does as she bids. He nods at Gene to proceed.
Gene places an old and worn blood pressure cuff on his bicep. As the cuff tightens around his arm, the end of a stethoscope is placed in the crook of his elbow. Rachel holds up a windup pocket watch so Gene can see it while he counts the beats. Finished, Gene writes the results on a yellowed scrap of paper before instructing him to sit up. He moves the stethoscope to Monroe's chest. "Take a few deep breaths," Gene instructs him. As Monroe complies with the rest of his examination, the absurdity of the situation strikes him. Gene may as well be in a doctor's office instead of in the middle of nowhere. At this moment, Monroe is simply a patient – not the man who caused the death of his grandson, tortured his daughter and lost command of a nation (twice). Rachel acts as his medical assistant, not a woman who would forever want him dead.
Gene has him lay back down and begins to examine his neck. Monroe winces as Gene's hands gently probe, "Sorry," Gene says quietly at Monroe's quick intake of breath when he touches a particularly tender spot. Moving on, Gene checks his ribs and back for injury form his beatings, and the examination is finally over. The experience has been humbling to Monroe to say the least.
Monroe sits up once more as Gene addresses him. "Well, you've been worked over pretty good, but nothing seems to be broken, not even a cracked rib. Your throat is another matter. Before the blackout, injuries like this were treated seriously by a specialist. I can't exactly send you to one. You need to take it easy for a while – no fighting, try not to talk. You've probably got some damage to your vocal cords. I have no way of knowing if it's permanent."
Monroe considered this. He didn't need a voice to fight. "Well it's not like I was trying to make it on Broadway," he says flatly. The words are raspy, barely above a whisper.
Gene rolls his eyes. "I don't think you're getting this. Your vocal cords are a part of your larynx. If it's damaged it affects more than your voice. If it swells in your sleep, you won't wake up again. If you are hit in the neck before you heal, it could crush your larynx and you'll suffocate." Gene's voice is firm, almost hinging on harsh. They didn't go through all this effort to save the man just to watch him die out of stubbornness or pride.
"I need to monitor you over the next several days. If you have problems breathing, even a little you need to tell me. You'll have pain trying to swallow and talk for at least several days if not longer. If it gets worse, you need to tell me. Drink lots of water and you need to sleep at an angle to keep the swelling down. And I swear if you don't follow my instructions, I will have Miles keep you tied up until you're healed." Finished with his instructions, Gene turned to his medical bag and started packing it back up.
Obviously dismissed, Monroe slowly gets to his feet. A wave of dizziness overcomes him slightly and he starts to falter. Instinctively he grabs onto the closest object to steady himself. Unfortunately, this happens to be Rachel's shoulder. Much to his surprise, she doesn't immediately shove him to the ground at first contact. Despite the obvious disgust at his proximity, she helps him to balance himself.
Monroe's equilibrium restored, he slowly makes his way through the camp towards the brook they have stopped by. Rachel sits down under the tree and leans up against the trunk. The past seven hours have been exhausting. The speed at which they'd traveled may have tired the horses, but it has allowed for them to meet up with the others and regroup. Barring detection, they will be able to stay here until morning. Normally they wouldn't have stopped for so long while on the run, but the fact was Monroe needed to rest. They'd all discussed this in depth while he was still out. Any complications from his hanging were beyond the reach of post-blackout medicine.
And, if they were going to reach someplace safe the horses did need time to recover. Rachel absently picks at a blade of grass as she watches Monroe stumble his way towards the water. His gait is normally athletic –graceful even. But now his movements are pained and clumsy. Gene looks at her thoughtfully. "Penny for your thoughts? You were awful nice, considering you were happy to let him hang."
Rachel sighs thoughtfully and tosses the blade of grass aside. "I can't imagine what he is going through. This is the second time Connor has tried to kill him in front of an audience. Just because I hate him doesn't mean I can't feel sympathy for him. If Charlie tried to kill me, I can imagine I'd be heartbroken."
Monroe sits by the water unaware of the blue eyes that observe him a short distance away. The shock of the past twenty-four hours is settling in, full force. Rachel is not the only one who sees the parallel between this morning's events and that night in Puesta del Sol. It is finally sinking in that between that night and today, nothing with Connor had ever really changed. Despite all his efforts to connect and build some type of relationship with his son, Connor has hated him the entire time. He has just been very good at hiding it.
As he reflects on his life it occurs to Monroe that everyone he has ever cared about has either died on him or tried to kill him. What kind of life is that? He wonders, morosely. Blinking back tears of regret, he starts to rise. As he does, he notices he's no longer alone. He sinks back down to the ground as Charlie approaches. In his current state of health, he's hardly going to intimidate her into leaving him alone, so he is resigned to putting up with the intrusion. He can only hope she will figure out that he really wants to be left alone.
Charlie sits down next to him, stretching her legs out in front of her, reclining on her elbows. They both concentrate on staring at the gently flowing water as the silence between them becomes uncomfortable. "Are you okay?" She finally asks. Charlie knows it's a stupid question, and regrets it the second it's out there. She'd felt she should say something, but hadn't known what else to say.
Monroe shrugs in response. Any reply would be as stupid as the question. He knows his wounds will heal. His body is just too stubborn for it to be otherwise. The rest is just par for the course for him. His loneliness and isolation have been amplified surely, but they've been there for so much of his life, he barely recalls it being otherwise. The few short years with Shelly and the six months he'd been fooled by Connor have been the only reprieves ever since his family died. There is no point in explaining this all to her. It will only serve to remind her of her own losses.
The silence resumes for a while before he speaks to her. Something had been bothering him since he'd woken up. He has finally mustered up the courage to ask. His voice croaks, so he tries to clear his throat before the words will come out, albeit barely above a raw whisper. "Why are you here?"
"I just wanted to check on you, make sure you're alright," she responds uneasily.
Monroe shakes his head. She doesn't understand. "No, I mean why are you here? How did you know? Why was your family even in Chicago in the first place?"
Charlie hesitates. Miles having been elected to represent Jasper is the easiest answer. But, Charlie knows Connor's lies have already left scars. He will eventually learn the truth about what she and Miles had come to do. After seeing him trying to make things right (and almost dying for it), she feels he at least deserves her honesty. "We had come to assassinate you."
Monroe closes his eyes and nods in understanding. He should not have expected anything less. "Why bother saving me then? I'd have gotten what I deserve and you've had gotten what you came fore. Wouldn't even have gotten your hands dirty." The rasping in his voice from the hanging only serve to highlight his bitterness.
Charlie flushes with guilt. "Because right before Miles pulled the trigger, you gave it all away." Monroe turns his head and for the first time since she joined him here, he looks at her. He waits for her to continue. "Do you think we wanted to have to be there to kill you? We came to stop you before you got out of control again. When you reformed the Monroe Republic, we didn't know what your intentions were. We couldn't just stand by and watch history repeat itself," She explains, hoping he will understand.
Monroe can feel her sincerity, read it in her eyes. Well, if she'd come to kill him, at least she felt bad about it at the time. That was something at least. "Fair enough," he whispers. "You weren't that far off. I caught myself sliding back down that road. That's why I tried to step back now, rather than after things were more settled. If I'd have waited any longer, I wouldn't have been able to." This admission does not come easily, but he figures if she's being honest with him, he should do the same.
Charlie moves closer to him. They are almost touching. She raises her hand and places it on his cheek. "Then I guess it means more that way." She lowers her hand slowly and resumes her earlier position, although she does not move away from him. Her gesture and proximity both confuse and excite him at the same time. But as they sit there, he starts to become uncomfortable. He'd once harbored strong feelings for her – still did if he'd let himself admit it. He'd never quite figured out what those feelings were exactly, but he'd been hurt and angry when she'd gotten involved with Connor briefly.
It does occur to him that she and Miles had not come to take out Connor as well. She'd chosen Connor over him before and in a way had done the same in Chicago as well. That he would forever be the Monroe she'd found lacking was a bitter pill to swallow. When Charlie spoke again, it was almost like she could sense the direction of his thoughts. "I'm sorry Connor turned out to be well, not what anyone expected."
"Aren't you glad he was the one you decided to fuck?" He knows he's being an ass. After all, she'd just helped to save him, and had even cared enough to be concerned about him a few minutes ago. But somehow he just can't help himself.
Charlie freezes for a second. She cannot believe what Monroe has just said to her. Her initial reaction is to slap him, but she stops herself. It occurs to her that when he's upset or hurt, he is indeed like a wounded animal – always lashing out at those around him. That's exactly what he is doing now. He's devastated over Connor's betrayal – even a fool can see that. So no, she won't hit him for his question. She comes up with a better way to retaliate, "What is it with you? Yeah, Connor and I had a thing. It's been over since you both left with the Militia. Why has it always bothered you so much?"
Monroe furrows his brows at her. Had she really been that oblivious? "Oh, I don't know,Charlie. Why would it?" He raises his voice as much as his bruised vocal cords will allow. It doesn't exactly come out as a yell, but with the rasping it does sound a little menacing. He starts to get up and walk away from her. With everything that has happened in the past day, this is the last conversation he's ready to have.
Stubborn as ever, Charlie rises as well, determined to follow him. He turns abruptly, "I'm sorry I said anything. I was out of line, okay?" He starts to walk down the bank of stream, further from the camp further from her.
"No, that's the second time you've said something like to me," She says, referring to another conversation months ago where he'd pointed out her choice in Monroes. "I want to know what your problem is."
Monroe stops walking and waits for her to catch up. "Charlie, I'm begging you. Can we not do this now?" His eyes implore her as much as his words do. It has finally dawned on Charlie why he'd been so upset when he'd found her with Connor all those long months ago in New Vegas – he'd wanted her.
Charlie cocks her head to one side and looks up at him for a few seconds. He seems so vulnerable and lost now. She moves before she has a chance to analyze her own actions. "Okay," she says as she stands up on her toes and places a soft kiss very gently on the corner of his mouth. She caresses his cheek again for a moment before she sets herself back down on her heels ad walks away. Monroe stares after her, completely confused, and yet somehow he feels a little better.
A/N: This chapter kind of got away from me in the end, sorry for that. At first I'd ended it without a confrontation, but then I couldn't figure out how else I'd wanted them to have it – and I think they had another one coming (this story assumes that everything that has happened through episode 16 has occurred). I do hope the show allows them to finish the confrontation Monroe started in last week's episode, since Miles kind of interrupted it in the end. (Blackout with your cackout? Haha who says that?) Anyways, thanks again for reading and please let me know what you think. I tried to proof this as much as possible, but I wanted to get it up before the episode tonight.