Nora lounges in the bay window that looks down on the busy street below the loft. The sun is bright, sending warm rays onto the cushioned seat and she stretches languidly with a sigh, enjoying the relaxed feeling. It is short lived as somewhere behind her, one of the doors slam and pounding footsteps storm into the living room.
"I'm not asking for your permission! I'm telling you!" Derek's voice is loud and she turns her head to find her younger brother standing next to her, glaring at their father, who is standing in the doorway that leads to the kitchen. "I want to help people!"
"Help? They are not helping! You want to help? Go to Anthony, go to John. They are people who are helping."
"They're not doing anything! I know you don't like President Monroe but I don't have to agree with you. Nora, please," he looks at her in desperation, expecting her to bat for him. She glances at Samuel, whose stern glare makes her fidget. She sits upright, swinging her legs off the built-in seat, and gazes between them. When she says nothing, her father speaks up.
"No, you're right Derek. You don't have to agree with me. But who the hell are you that you'd agree with those monsters? I raised you better than that. Nora, tell him."
She wishes she could leave the room. It's been this way for sixteen years, ever since her mother passed away. She's been the caregiver, the other adult in the family. Her father and brother are infamous for butting heads and they always look to her to end the argument- Derek looking for solace, Samuel looking for blind agreement.
"Dad, what's the worst that could happen?" she's known about her brother's plan for a while now but has kept quiet, knowing it would anger her father.
"What's the worst that could happen? Do you see what they're doing, Monroe and Matheson? Sure, life was great when they first showed up but now they're turning it into a dictatorship. You can't step outside and take a deep breath without them taking you in for questioning!"
"That's not true!" Derek shouts in exasperation. "God, you don't even try!"
"They're brainwashing you son. You see them strolling through town, living like kings. They entice you with their parties and their alcohol and everything else, like they have it better than us. You don't see the other side, when they round up their group for the day and shoot them point blank. Are you willing to do that Derek? Kill someone?"
"How's that different from Anthony and John are doing? Oh, because they're getting rid of the evil Militia? Before the Militia came, there was total chaos. Did you ever think that the people they arrest are getting arrested for a reason?" with that, Derek turns and leaves their apartment, slamming the door loudly behind him.
"Your brother is immature and naive." Samuel mutters, turning to Nora with his hands firmly on his hips. "It doesn't matter. He won't last one session with Matheson. They'll spit him back out before he even has a chance."
"Do you want me to go after him?"
"Keep an eye on him."
She quickly dresses, pulls her baseball cap over her face, and heads toward the local park she knows recruitment typically takes place in. She has watched these sessions before. She's watched him before. Nora knows she shouldn't been attracted to General Matheson -who her father considers to be the devil incarnate- but she is. She assumes it is his bad boy persona, which has always been a weakness for her.
She may have been known for being quiet and studious but she's also known for getting what she wants. She wants him. She's glad when she catches his attention but at the same time, wonders if this is a bad idea. This could all backfire on her. Oh well. You didn't get anywhere from hiding and refusing to take risks. Life has been dull- she could use some excitement. Plus, she'll have the added bonus of embarrassing Derek.
She ignores the shiver that runs down her spine as he holds her, knowing it will only distract her. Maybe she even presses a little further against him, taking advantage of the situation, smirking. His eyes are hard, angry, but soften as they lock on hers. She assumes it is because he realizes she's a woman but there's a spark that passes between them- she's hoping he realizes that too. She waits a few seconds, then stands up. If he wanted to punish her for insubordination or distracting or whatever ridiculous reasons he supposedly comes up with, he'd shoot her there in front of everyone since he's apparently some monster who whips out a gun without a second thought.
"Come with us. Live a little. Or will your father be so mad that you're drinking with the Militia?"
Nora smirks at Evie's teasing. She's known the woman since college when they were in the same sorority. She's heard about Monroe's parties, never has gone to one before. Her father would die.
"Maybe we'll even find you a nice soldier to settle down with. I promise they're not all terrible."
Hopefully. As much as she loves her father, she's twenty eight, and she's come to a point in her life when she needs to worry about herself and what she wants and needs.
She makes sure she looks good, knowing General Matheson will be there. She's pleased to see that his eyes lock on her as soon as she enters the tent. She plays dumb with Evie, leaning close to her,
"Who is that?"
Evie follows her gaze and laughs. "God Nora, you always had high expectations. Luckily for you, I know him. Let's go, I'll introduce you. Can you believe her Livvy?"
Their other friend merely nods, eyes glued to President Monroe. Nora could care less about him. Her attention is on his friend only, who hasn't looked away once. The heat of his gaze nearly leaves her breathless but she mentally warns herself to play it cool. Don't come off stupid or ridiculous. Just be... normal. Normal. Whatever normal was.
He walks her home that night, after kissing her on the hilltop, and keeps at least a foot of space between them. She can sense the anxiety coming off him in waves. It makes her laugh. He wants to know what's funny.
"You," she tells him, taking his hand in hers. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes, squeezing her fingers gently. "This is it."
She stops at the entrance to the apartment building and they turn to face each other.
"Thank you for walking me home."
"It was a pleasure." they slowly lean towards each other and before their mouths meet, he mutters, "When can I see you again?"
She thinks for a moment, then mumbles, "Tomorrow."
"Okay." they exchange another kiss and finally step away from each other. "Have a good night."
"You too. I... had a nice time."
He nods silently and she smiles, knowing that is about all that she'll get from him. She wiggles her finger in a wave as she enters the building and spies him from each window as she climbs the stairs to the loft. He's still standing there when she peers out from behind the curtains of the loft, which makes her smile. He only turns to leave when he sees her blow out the candle that had been glowing in the window.
She knows that she's in too deep. It's only been four weeks and they spend every chance they get together. He's busy, obviously, but he makes sure that there is at least five minutes to see her. When they're not together, he's ingrained in her mind, a constant thought at the forefront of her brain.
She's getting ready to meet him for lunch one afternoon when she sees her father through the mirror, leaning in the doorway of her bedroom, a scowl on his face.
"You're going out again." he states flatly. She runs her brush through her hair, then pulls it into a high ponytail.
"Yes, I am."
"You're going out with him?"
"Yes, Dad, I am." she tries to hold back her exasperation.
"You kids are going to put me in my grave." Samuel shakes his head. Derek had been shipped out to Militia boot camp two weeks earlier. "Nora, he's dangerous. He's bad news and he's going to hurt you."
"He's not like that."
"Spare me. I can imagine the number of lies he's told you just so he can get you into bed."
"Okay, not that it's any of your business but Miles and I have not slept together."
"Oh it's Miles now is it?"
"Do you expect me to call him General on our dates?"
"I would think he demands it."
"You don't know him."
"Neither do you."
"You're not ruining this for me."
"Oh trust me honey, that will happen all on it's own. He can't even come up and introduce himself?"
"What does it matter? You wouldn't let him step foot in this house." she brushes past her father into the hallway and grabs her jacket from the closet. "Dad, I'm more than old enough to make my own decisions. I respect your opinions but... everything's not always so black and white."
She leaves the building and heads towards the center of the city. She's surprised to find Miles near the bakery at the end of the street.
"I thought I was getting you," he says, greeting her with a kiss. The protective tone in his voice makes her smile as she burrows into his side, seeking his body heat as the cool breeze blew through.
She understands where her father is coming from. She knows the stories of General Matheson, the body count that's been left in his wake, how people cower in fear when his name is whispered. But she also knows Miles, knows his true personality. She's spent four weeks chipping away at the General to find him. How dare her father insist she didn't know him. And she's right. Everything is not black and white. She knows from their conversations that this was not Miles's original intention. He wanted to help, to protect, bring back some order. She sees the rough exterior disappear, sees him smile more often, open up to her more. He's human just like the rest of them.
"I'm leaving tomorrow." he tells her as they walk back from the park. "I have to go check on some things in Indianapolis."
"How long are you going to be gone?"
"I don't know. It depends. Hopefully not too long."
"Okay." she nods, lips pressed together tightly. Indianapolis is halfway across the Republic. With no phones or computers, communication was difficult. "You'll be careful, right?"
"Always," he smirks and presses a kiss against her mouth. She responds, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. "I'm just checking on some of the troops. It'll be fine."
"Okay." she smiles this time, forcing herself to be positive. This is ridiculous. They've only known each other a month. It's not like they have some established relationship. She will not allow herself to get worked up about this. Except, in one month she feels like she knows him better than anyone else and he's the closest person to her now, besides her family. Over Miles's shoulder, she sees her father standing near the entrance to the apartment building, watching them with narrowed eyes. "Oh,"
"What?" he glances over, following her line of sight, then looks back. "Your dad?"
"Mmm," she nods shortly, stepping away from him. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses but she sees how his mouth tightens in anxiety and she almost laughs. He's the general of the entire Militia and he's scared of her father. "Come on,"
She knows her father is going to be rude or walk away but she at least has to give it a try. There is nothing fearsome about Miles at the moment. He's dressed in ripped jeans, a blue Henley, sunglasses and a baseball cap turned backwards on his head. He looks like any other person. He is any other person.
"Dad, I want you to meet Miles." she gestures between them, eyes glaring at him. Please be nice to him. "Miles, my father Samuel."
"Hi. Nice to meet you." Miles pulls his glasses off with one hand and extends the other to Samuel, who stares at it. He finally accepts it, gives it a short shake, and drops it.
"Sure." he glances between the couple, sighing softly. "Well, guess I'll leave you alone."
He retreats into the building without another word and Nora sighs, somewhat relieved. It could have been better but it also could have been so much worse. Miles turns his attention back to her.
"Was that good or bad?"
"It was neither. He's not too thrilled about me seeing you."
"Not good enough for you?" he jokes dryly but there's a flash of something in his eyes. I wouldn't want my daughter dating someone like me either.
"Frankly, I don't care what he thinks." she leans up and kisses him again, hands at his waist. "Be safe."
"Will do. I expect the same from you."
She wants to say that she'll wait for him, that she'll be thinking of him, but wonders if that'll freak him out. Instead she just kisses him again, says goodbye, and goes inside. She watches him from the window as he disappears down the street and tries to ignore the ache that has suddenly settled in her chest.
She tries to keep herself busy and keep her mind off him but that's hard to do. Anytime she hears a battalion returning, she gets herself worked up, thinking he's home but it never is. She thinks of writing him a letter but figures by the time the messenger finds him, he'll probably be on his way back.
Derek comes home for Thanksgiving and those few days are tense for all of them. A group of her father's friends, along with some of their children, who she was friendly with, have been arrested. Samuel goes into a rage, yelling at his children, asking if this is what they want to be allied with. Derek argues back but Nora stays quiet, receiving the verbal lashing for being 'another one of Matheson's whores'- her father's words, not hers.
She would rather not get involved with politics on either side. She knows many people were angry with President Monroe but also knows many who would willingly die for the man. She doesn't like either extreme. She believes there is some middle ground that they can find. She can't believe how quickly society has crumbled. Does no one remember what life used to be like or do they just not care? She refuses to accept that they can't rebuild to the way it was before.
Her father's words sting and stay with her into the following week when she goes to do her Christmas shopping. What was Miles doing right now? Logically she knows he's supervising his troops, too busy fighting battles to stroll into the nearest town for a beer and a girl. Still, she thinks of him, traveling along the eastern seaboard and out west. He's gone through many towns. He's young, good looking, and powerful. He probably has a girl in every town.
Feeling depressed, she enters the bookstore, the bell tinkling over head. The owner waves from the desk and she moves through the unorganized stacks, glimpsing various titles. She reaches for a worn copy of A Tale of Two Cities and when she pulls it out, a smaller book falls to the ground. Bending down, she grabs it from the floor and flips through it quickly. It's a book of various quotes for various topics. She stops on one page in the love section and reads the paragraph.
She reads it three times, feeling the lump in her throat growing each time. She's read her fair share of romance books, those really cheesy ones where the people fall in love in two days and are married the next week. As much of a hopeless romantic as she is, she doesn't expect that it'll ever happen to her. Yet here she is, standing in the middle of a store, reading this ridiculously sappy quote and an image of Miles pops into her mind. Somehow, in a month, lust had turned to love. She reads the quote a fourth time and exhales a low sigh. This is it. This is true, at least according to this.
She knows what he's done, even though he thinks she doesn't, and still accepts it because she sees what his goal is. She has seen every facet of his personality, seen the struggles he faces with the Militia and comforts him, stands beside him, letting him vent. God knows he's been on her mind every day since the first day in the park. And she sure as hell isn't going to let some tramp in some backwoods town come between them-though she truly doubts she exists.
She drops everything the evening he returns. She had been in the market, purchasing some food for the week, when she hears the whispers.
"Matheson's back."
"Did you hear about the Plains troop? Completely slaughtered."
"Didn't get a get scratch on him."
"What a monster."
Nora ignores the comments and winds her way through the city, to the outskirts where the house is situated. She is stopped instantly at the gate, as she suspected.
"Private property, miss. Unless you have business with President Monroe, I'm going to have to ask you to turn back."
"Not the President. I'm looking for General Matheson."
The guards exchange a look and the one to her left jerks his head at the house, sending the one on the right off. He's back within ten minutes and holds the gate open for her to step inside.
"I'll take you upstairs miss. The General will be in the third room on the left."
"Thank you very much." she waits at the top of the steps until he turns away, and then she walks quickly, almost running, to the door she was directed to. Her heart is racing as she waits for Miles to answer, which is only a few seconds. He's in one piece, thank God, and as one of the whispers said, not a scratch on him. She doesn't wait for him to greet her, just throws her arms around him. He immediately reciprocates and she thinks, There's no one else. He wouldn't be like this if he had someone else.
When he locks the door later, then faces her again, his expression has changed- a mixture of nervousness, desire, and love. She's positive on the last one. Miles may not be as vocal as she is but his expressions always betray him, at least when it comes to her.
"This is okay?" he drops to his knees in front of her, sounding hesitant.
"It's more than okay." she smiles softly at him. She knows what his problem is. He's trying to be honorable, not take advantage of her. She's known that since they began seeing each other. They could have been sleeping together the night of the party but he didn't want to push her.
He's everything she's expected and she's sure if anyone else, for whatever reason, has ever tried to picture Miles in bed, they would envision him as some brutish caveman. He's the complete opposite. In fact, she's never seen him more gentle or caring. He's attentive, focusing solely on her, and shies away each time she tries to touch him. Next time. This is about you.
She watches him later, once they've actually moved into his bed and he falls asleep. He's turned on to his side next to her, mouth open slightly, and there's one thick lock of hair that keeps falling across his forehead no matter how many times she pushes it back. The lump she felt in her throat at the bookstore, reading that dumb quote, is back. It makes no sense to her how things have turned out but she wouldn't have it any other way. She scoots closer to him, tucking her head under his jaw, and feels his hand rub her hip gently under the blanket. She's grateful he's back, grateful he still wants her. In the back of her mind, there's the thought that he's going to have to leave again and her frown deepens. She doesn't want to let go of him, never mind letting him out of her sight. You have it bad Nora, so so bad.
She ignores the fiery gaze in her father's eyes when she returns home later the next morning. She shouldn't even be living here anymore. She should have had her own place, should have been married, had kids. Kids. For the first time she thinks about kids. Pictures Miles wrestling and playing ball with a little boy in a large yard, cuddling a little girl to his chest protectively.
She knows her father isn't mad at what she's done, could even care less about that, it is just who she's done it with.
Miles arrives the next night to take her to dinner, then brings her back to his house. He tells her he's leaving again. If she thought the news of his departure in September was rough, she was wrong. She feels like her heart is being ripped in two. No, she tells herself, you're going to be strong and deal with it. This is Miles. He's practically invincible. He'll be back before you know it.
She tries being sassy to alleviate the sadness in the room and that perks him up immediately. She memorizes every inch of him, not that she hadn't already last night, and tells herself this will not be the last time she sees him. She tries to imagine if they had been together when he was a marine but can't. Cannot envision the years of separation, the fear that he may get hurt at any time.
She hears him when he tells her he loves her, even though he thinks she's asleep, and feels her heart soar. It's all she wants to hear. She knows she won't be able to sleep much, knowing the horrors of the road will only give her nightmares. After an hour or so, she glances up at him, finds him passed out, and quietly climbs out of bed, pulling his shirt on over her shoulders. She fastens two buttons as she moves to the desk and lights a candle. He has loose papers all over the top of the desk and she finds a blank sheet, then grabs a pencil. She thinks for a moment, then slowly begins to write. Her eyes flicker to his sleeping form every so often. She writes the quote from memory- she has read it so many times that it flows without a hitch. Folds up the letter and moves to where his bag is sitting on the armchair. She picks a pocket at random, knowing, hoping he'll find it when he stops later the following evening. Then she blows the candle out and climbs back into bed, holding him tightly. Just please come back to me.
She wants to say the words to him but they catch in her throat. He looks like he has something to say but holds back. They exchange slow kisses, hands tightening around each other. He finally pulls away, just enough to lean his forehead on hers and mutters, "It's not as far as Indianapolis. I'll be back sooner."
"I just want you to be careful."
"Always." he kisses her one more time, then grabs his bag and sets out.
She's in a funk. There is no denying it. Evie gets sick of her mood four days later and takes her shopping. Shopping post-blackout is hardly exciting but at least it's something to take her mind off Miles. They stop near the park, watching children frolic in the snow, and chat about their lives.
"Evie!" a male voice calls out, catching their attention. Ricky is approaching them and not far behind is Monroe. Nora's heart sinks at the grim expression on both faces. Something happened to Miles. She just knows it. Ricky speaks quietly to his wife, leading her away. Monroe stands before Nora, hands folded solemnly.
"Is something wrong President Monroe?"
Her heart is pounding, waiting to hear the words Miles is dead. Miles is injured. Miles is being held hostage. So she's caught off guard when she hears him say, "Your father and brother have been killed."
"W-What?" she blinks at him in surprise, not sure she's heard properly. He begins to tell her how her neighbor had run out into the street, yelling for help. A man had been seen leaving the loft. The neighbor had found their bodies. He apologizes and assures her that he's having everything taken care of.
"I promise you Nora, I am going to find this monster."
She's too shocked to say anything or even react when he smiles sympathetically and pulls her into a warm hug.
"Anything you need, you let me know."
"Thank you President Monroe."
"Please. It's Bass. My friends call me Bass. You're a friend. In fact, I would love it if you came back with me to the house. Miles would have my head if I didn't look out for you. You'll have full access to all amenities. You can stay in his room if you'd like."
She doesn't say a word, just follows him blindly to the wagon waiting for him. She breaks down after he leaves her alone in Miles's room and collapses onto the bed. She presses her face into his pillow, curling around it, and cries. She wants him. She wonders if Bass will alert him. She scolds herself, her thoughts going back to her father and brother. She feels guilty. Guilty that her concerns are for Miles rather than Derek and Samuel. That she thought of him first before them.
Bass does take care of everything, arranging for a burial for both of them. He stays by her side through the funeral, ignoring the dirty looks he receives. Samuel's friends do not appreciate his presence. Nora is sure her father would rant and rave, probably die again if he knew Sebastian Monroe was standing at his graveside mourning him.
"Do you know where Miles is?" she asks, her voice hoarse from crying.
"No. The snow is keeping our messengers from getting through. As soon as I can reach him, I'll have him turn around."
It's two weeks after the funeral that Bass approaches her at breakfast.
"I hope you're doing better," he says quietly, "I know it's difficult."
"Thank you. For everything, Bass. You've been more than gracious."
"Like I said, you're a friend. You're Miles's girl. I'll always look out for you." he leans an elbow on the table, smiling gently. "It must be frustrating, knowing what's happened."
"I just don't understand. It doesn't make any sense."
"Some people can be animals. The things I saw in the years before the Republic was formed," he trails off, shaking his head. "You can't look at these things objectively. It's like the laws of the world don't matter anymore. People like that, they can't even be considered people. They need to be put down."
Nora pushes the food on her plate, not looking at him. He leans a little closer to her and begins to speak again.
"That's why we do this, why we stepped up to the plate. Nora, you could help. You could be a key in making sure these things don't happen again, so that people don't have to suffer like your brother and father did."
"How's that?"
"There are groups along our borders that are trying to hinder our expansion. These other republics are floundering because they can't control what's happening. Past our borders, the world is chaos. Unfortunately a civil war is going to break out. I need weapons in order to protect us."
"No," she shakes her head. "I don't want any part of that."
"I'll let you think it over. I know you're a talented chemist Nora. Top of your class at Temple. I know you can make me what I need."
"I didn't even graduate."
"That doesn't matter. If I get you supplies, you'll be able to make me a bomb won't you?"
"Like I said, I don't want any part of that."
"Like I said, I'll let you think it over."
She finally agrees because when she thinks of her father and Derek, now all she can think of are their coffins lowering into the ground. Their deaths were meaningless and avoidable all because of some son of a bitch. Bass is right. Don't you want to avenge them? I'm trying everything I can to get that bastard back here and punish him properly but there are so many more like him. His words echo in her head and she can't fight it anymore. Vengeance isn't really her type of thing but if she can have a hand in stopping the suffering of others, she'll do whatever it takes. She tells herself she'll do it once but no more. But Bass continues to come back, continues to entice the hatred out of her. Think of your father. What would he say? He would be proud of you Nora, getting rid of these monsters. She doesn't even realize how twisted her thoughts have become because months ago she would have said, "Bass, he thinks you're the monster." She only agrees.
She's never been so relieved to see Miles. She finally allows the pain that's been building for two months to break free, knowing she can lean on him for help. He stays up two nights in a row with her as she cries and fights through nightmares. There's something off about him though. For some reason, she doesn't think he's all too happy that she's become a bomb maker. Her suspicions are confirmed when he tells her enough is enough. But it's not enough. Outside of the Republic, the world is in chaos. She's read reports that make her sick-the mistreatment of children, the ransacking of towns, families torn apart. She realizes that she's creating things that are killing people. There are countless lives on her hands but don't they deserve it? If it helps Bass and Miles expand the Republic, to help people who truly need it, isn't it okay?
"The reason I fell in love with you was because you're not like everyone else. I was going in a direction that I realized I hated and you brought me back from that, gave me some real faith and hope. Where's that Nora?" Miles looks so distraught as he says this that it nearly floors her. She doesn't have an answer for him. She wishes he wasn't so angry with her. She's only trying to help.
Bass has her begin working with his weapons specialist and she quickly picks up on assembling and disassembling guns, creating close range weapons, and so on. He always looks pleased with her, appreciates her efforts, getting her to advance her knowledge.
Miles is smothering to a point, then takes off. Nora knows their tension is because of her involvement in the Militia. He hates who she's become. She wants to yell and scream at him, tell him that she has to do this, has to be this way, just like he has. It's not really her, just like the bloodthirsty general is not really him. It's just a job.
As the months pass on and he doesn't come home, fear begins to grip at her insides. What if he didn't come back? What if he got so fed up with her that he just disappeared? No, he wouldn't do that. When he comes back, she's going to try harder to be her old self. She's not going to lose him on top of losing them. She couldn't handle losing him.
She's worried when he arrives, trying not to squirm under his intense stare. She sighs in relief when he kisses her and clings to him. He still wants her, still loves her. She'll give up everything as long as he stays with her.
That is until the next morning when Bass has a request. When he sees her start to protest, he silently slides the newspaper across the table to her. The article, focusing on the complete burning of a town across the river, tugs at her heart.
"Can you imagine the horror those people must have felt? Those poor children."
"What do you need?"
"We have a lookout on one of their camps. Just something small, enough to take them out, maybe even send a message to their friends. We are a force to be reckoned with."
Miles violently slams the chair back from the table and storms from the room without a word. Nora looks for him and finally sees him from the window, his horse galloping away from the stables. She leans against the window, blinking away tears. She doesn't know how to get through to him. His words replay themselves in her head and she knows he doesn't feel strongly about his cause anymore. She doesn't know what will make her stop because each time she tries, something else pulls her back in. Now that she's been personally exposed to these horrors, she needs to try and fix it somehow.
She gets her answer at the end of October when she can't stand how sick she's been and tired and finally gives in to see the local doctor. The last thing she is expecting is to hear that she's pregnant. All the signs point to it and the more she thinks about it, the more sense it makes.
She can't work for Bass anymore. She wants to get away from it all, create a calm, simple life. She leaves the house and moves back to the loft. Nothing is going to jeopardize this. This is a second chance. As more weeks go by, she begins to regret what she's done. She let herself be consumed by her grief and hatred and used it in the most unproductive way. She refuses to bring a child into that sort of world.
She's not expecting Miles back anytime soon and is shocked when she finds him banging on her door. He looks like he's been through hell and she quickly learns it is because he couldn't find her. Hope surges up within her. No matter what seems to happen, he can't let go of her. Now that she's stopped, things can go back to normal. She's not expecting him to react so negatively when she tells him about the baby. The white picket fence image, with 2.5 kids is shattered. She always was too damn optimistic for her own good.
His words sting-he doesn't want a baby, she's trying to trap him, they'd be terrible parents. Suddenly she is seeing a side of him she never thought existed. She wants to laugh at the irony of the situation. She figures it will be her weapon addiction that drives him away, not their child. She's so worried that he's going to desert her and here he is, willing to come back, but not willing to make this little family with her.
She lets him go, taunts him even, because she thinks he really won't do it. It's not like him. Sure, they get on each others' nerves but there's been far worse between them. He'll climb back up the stairs and apologize and promise everything was going to work out. They could get away from the Militia and start over.
She doesn't think that he'll listen when she tells him that she won't take him back. Maybe she came off harsher than she expected. Or maybe her father was right and she really didn't know Miles at all.
"Nora?"
The inquisitive voice makes her look up from the book she's reading at the cafe. For a moment, she thinks Miles is standing in front of her but she silently reminds herself that he left her. In two weeks, he hasn't tried to contact her once. She does recognize the man though and smiles.
"Frank, how are you?" she had become close friends with Frank Hamilton in college. He had been a political science major who lived across the hall from her. As an officer in the Militia, he was stationed in Philadelphia so they saw each other frequently if he wasn't out on a mission.
"Fine, just fine. It's been a while since I've seen you. What's been going on?"
"Nothing. Just getting by." she smiles again.
"I heard about your dad and Derek. I'm so sorry."
"Thank you." she glances over his Militia uniform and smiles. "Did you just get back?"
"Yeah, I was with Captain Baker in Ohio. Hey, I would love to get together for dinner, catch up, and all that."
"Sure. Let me know when."
"How's Saturday?"
"That'll work." she tells herself it's just friends getting together but she can't shake the feeling that she's betraying Miles. He deserted you. Who cares how he feels.
Dinner was simply just friends getting together, just like old times. Frank has always been comic relief for her and she feels a weight lifted off her shoulders as they walk past the battered store fronts. He walks her back to the loft and kisses her cheek gently.
"How about we do this again Monday? I'm leaving for Virginia the day after Christmas but I'll be busy with my family before then."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"I'm here if you need anything."
"I appreciate that."
She feels her heart sink as the group of Militia officers come out of the alley by her apartment building, ragging on Frank. Everything happens in a blur. She tries to step in, not even thinking, and receives a hard blow to her jaw. She staggers back but swings at her attacker, which only agitates him more. Then she's on the ground, intense pain radiating throughout her body. Her last thought before she loses consciousness is the baby and she's sure she whimpers out Miles and then nothing.
When she comes to, she is in Evie's apartment with the blonde standing over her, worried. She can hardly focus her eyes but she hears a male voice she doesn't recognize.
"Nora? Nora, I'm George Cassidy. I'm an old colleague of Troy. Unfortunately, he's in Trenton at the moment but your friend here called me when her husband found you."
"Nora, please say something." Evie sounds close to tears and her hand suddenly grips her tightly. "I was so worried."
"Mrs. White, please calm down. She's been through quite an ordeal."
Nora closes her eyes again, trying hard not to cry out from the pain she's feeling. Their voices fade in and out but she gets the gist. Monroe's boys took turns beating her and Frank up, left her for dead, and she lost the baby. The door closes quietly but Evie's sniffles let her know she's not alone.
"I can't believe what happened." she says. "Ricky says they'll be dealt with, that Miles won't let them get away with it."
At the sound of his name, Nora whimpers softly. She wants him here, not Evie, comforting her.
"It'll be okay Nora. I promise, it'll be okay."
It will not be okay. The past few months have proven that life just kept going down hill. She lost her family, she lost Miles, and now she lost their baby. Quite the track record.
She feels like a hostage in Evie's apartment. The other woman refuses to let her leave until the doctor returns and gives her a clean bill of health. As soon as that day comes, Nora leaves immediately after. She leaves a note, thanking her friend for everything, but please don't try to follow her. She has family out west and she'll be staying with them. The last part is a lie. There's nothing left in Philadelphia but bad memories. Staying here would just drive her insane.
It's just after Valentine's Day when she realizes Miles is following her. She catches a glimpse of him in the other room of the tavern she's sitting in and feels her heart stop. She shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It's not him. There's no way it's him. But when she looks again, she knows it is him. The next town she stops in, she sees him walk by the hotel. She wonders what he wants. Part of her hopes he's coming for her, to be with her. The other part thinks that's just too impossible to be true. She can't figure it out. He has no reason to arrest her, though the more she begins to understand the twisted mind of Bass Monroe and how he manipulated her, she's sure some terrible story has been spun about her. Also, he's by himself. Would he bring a troop to capture her?
He never tries to contact her, always stays two steps behind her. It's ridiculous but she feels safer knowing he's there.
She hears whispers of a resistance, similar to the one her father had been a part of. The idea entices her. It's crazy. She had begun with having no allegiance, then tried sided with the Militia, and now here she was trying to join the resistance. Her father said her brother had been immature and naïve. That seems to characterize her as well. She realized too late what the Republic was about. Now there were so many things she wishes she could change.
She feels violated, taken advantage of, stupid. Her father had been right all along. Monroe is a monster. Monroe has had a hand in everything. She doesn't have the proof yet but she just feels it, now that she isn't blinded by his smooth words and promises.
She still can't bring herself to believe that of Miles. He was here, following her, wasn't he? They were both just too stubborn to apologize. Maybe one day that would change.
Ultimately, she's sent to Pontiac, where one of the head leaders of the resistance is located. He's nearly her father's age and he smirks at her, making her feel about two feet tall.
"Why should I agree to this? What do you have to offer? Sorry Miss Clayton but I'm not in the position to be rescuing damsels when they get in over their heads."
"Because I can supply you with weapons and... and I have a vendetta against Monroe. I'll stay dedicated. Believe me, he's... I've lost everything. This is all I have left. I won't stop until the same has happened to him. I walked here by myself from Philadelphia. I can protect myself."
"What kind of weapons?" he asks after a pause. She smiles widely and he sticks his hand out to her.
"Welcome to the side of the rebels kid."