Author's Note: Thank you for all the kind reviews- they really mean a lot and got me fired up for more. This story is my first try at fan fiction- I'm glad you like it & hope this chapter is enjoyable as well.

Chapter 2

They set off heading west with the sun still high in the sky, about to begin its nightly descent across the horizon. Bass said he had seen a clearing about 2 miles in that direction where he was sure they would find plenty of deer enjoying their evening graze.

Charlie was quiet, as was the case most of the time these days. Bass didn't push and they walked for a mile in silence. He noticed she was a bit slower than usual and not really paying attention to tracking or much else. She seemed a world away.

"Hey," he said. "You all right?"

"Fine," she said shortly.

He knew she was anything but fine. The more they walked the slower and more tired she seemed. It felt to Bass like Charlie was a million miles away and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, pull her into his arms and hug her, tell her it was going to be okay because it had to be. He also knew that doing so would make her balk, thinking he was pitying her, and she'd hate him for it.

They walked more in silence, his pace slowing down to match hers, without her seeming to notice.

The sun was just above the tree line when they found the clearing. They descended down into a small gulley and back up the other side and looked out into the clearing.

Across a field of beautiful wildflowers they saw a group of 5 or 6 deer, grazing. Charlie had her crossbow out and was setting up to take a shot.

"Boom!"

The shot rang through the sky. Charlie looked around, confused, looking like she was trying to decide whether or not to still take the shot. Her reaction time was very slow.

Bass grabbed her and pulled her back into the gulley.

"What…" she started.

"Shh…" Bass held his finger to his lips and pointed across the clearing.

Three Patriot's entered the clearing smiling at the young buck they had just taken down.

"Whaddya know, Gates?" one of them laughed. "You can shoot."

The rest of the deer took off into the forest, much to Bass' chagrin.

"Damn it," he breathed.

He looked over at Charlie, who other than looking slightly pissed, seemed no worse for wear. Maybe some venison was starting to sound good to her, he thought, and she was mourning the lost chance of getting their hands on some. He turned his gaze back to the patriot's and looked around the surrounding area to see if any others were nearby. He thought he heard something approaching and had his gun ready. Lying on his side, his back was to Charlie. That was his first mistake.

Before he knew what was happening, Charlie was on her feet running towards the patriots who were still standing around with their backs to them. Before he was on his feet she had taken her first shot- the bolt hit the first guy squarely in the back and he went down without so much as a whimper.

Bass was on his feet running after her but she was charging like a bat out of hell. Somehow she had a newfound energy and was running like he'd never seen before. Before the patriots could even reach for their weapons she hurled her hunting knife into the chest of the second guy.

Bass screamed, "Charlie!" to no avail.

Out of weapons, Charlie bent down like a bull in a pen and rushed the third guy just as he was reaching for his gun. Her head hit him squarely in the gut and he stumbled backwards several feet before falling to the ground, Charlie on top of him. She punched him in the jaw but he lifted his knee and kicked her swiftly in the gut, flipping her onto her back.

"You bitch!" he seethed, as he held his knife to her throat, piercing her delicate skin.

Bass charged into the guy, throwing him off of Charlie and rolling him onto the ground away from her. He punched him hard 3 or 4 times before ending him with a blade across the jugular.

Bass was seething. "Don't ever do that again!" he screamed at her. "Just…what the hell…what the hell were you thinking?"

She was lying on her side, facing away from him, her hands clasped around her stomach. Her breathing was heavy.

Bass was trying to catch his breath but was still seething mad. "Damn it, Charlie, you could've been killed! If there were any more of these guys you could've gotten us both killed!"

"No one said you had to follow me," she breathed.

"I will always follow you," his anger had dissipated, his voice trailing off in a gentle whisper.

She turned to look at him then. The look on his face was one of sadness and genuine concern. He was serious, she thought.

Their eyes met. Bass noted the look of scrutiny on her face. His frustration & anger flickered once again.

"I mean, seriously," he said looking right at her, "do you have a death wish or something?"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth he knew it to be true. She turned her face away from him which only confirmed it.

"Charlotte," he said tenderly, his voice full of sadness. "It's true, isn't it?"

Charlie lay silent. She was trying desperately to get the words out—tell him no, that he was crazy for thinking such a thing. Tell him she was strong as ever, that she just wanted revenge and knew she could take them. But the truth was, if Bass hadn't been there she'd now be dead, killed by the third man's knife. And the thought of that didn't sound wholly bad to her. Pathetic, sure; but also peaceful. Done. An end to all the pain.

Bass watched as waves of emotion crossed her face. She looked like she was trying to speak but in the end, gave up. He watched as her resolve gave in and what was left was a single, solitary tear that slid down across her cheek. That, in and of itself, spoke volumes. He went to reach for her but stopped. In the distance, there was a sound. First a twig cracking beneath someone's foot, then voices.

"Can you move?" he bent down over Charlie, whispering to her.

She nodded.

"Great, 'cause we gotta move…now!" he breathed.

He helped her up, she grabbed her hunting blade from the one man's chest and they began to run back across the field from whence they came. Bass picked up her crossbow along the way and they were back in the gulley just as 2 more patriots entered the clearing. He stopped long enough to see if there were any more coming, but when there seemed to be none, he pulled her along.

"We have to keep moving," he said, quietly.

They walked up the other side of the gulley and were back in the safety of the forest. The sun was setting fast, hitting just above the horizon now. They had wasted too much time, what with Charlie's slow start to the clearing, and now this.

He could tell she was in a bit of pain although she didn't complain about it. She tried to keep up the pace with him, and for awhile, did just that, but he could tell she was tiring rapidly and knew they would have to stop. The lack of nutrition, hydration and sleep had all taken a heavy toll on her.

Just up this hill they were climbing he would find a place to stop, he thought. He had to talk to her now, especially after this, and waiting until they got back to camp seemed unfair to her given that Miles & Rachel would be there; he knew she wouldn't say a word there anyway. He had a better chance of getting her to open up if they were alone.

He thought back to what she'd just done. It killed him inside to think how deep her pain must be to want to end her life like that. To think that she wanted to put her life in the hands of someone else & let them choose how it might end was heartbreaking and terrifying to him all at once. What if that guy back there had chosen to torture her instead? Just the thought of it enraged him so that he couldn't see straight. His grasp around her wrist tightened.

"Ouch!" she winced.

"God, I'm…so sorry," he said. "We'll stop up here."

They reached the top of the hill and he looked around. About 40 yards ahead he spotted what looked like a broken down well. The hole was boarded up and the cement wall around it was breaking away, leaving only about half of it still standing; a place to rest at least. The sun was setting now and the little flickers of light that they could see through the trees created a soft orange glow among the leaves & branches around them. It was really beautiful and had they not been there for the reasons they were, they probably could have appreciated it more.

Charlie settled herself on the ground with her back against the sturdier of the two remaining cement walls. She reached for her canteen and took a long gulp of water—still cold, it felt so good going down her dry, parched throat. She let out a long deep breath, trying to regain some of her non-existent strength. Everything hurt- her head from butting into the guy's stomach, her hand from punching him and her stomach where he'd knee butted her. She let out a small groan as she sat down.

Bass sat down beside her and let out a deep breath. Taking a long drink from his own canteen, he then turned to look at her.

"You know your neck's bleeding?" he asked.

"It is?" her eyes perked up.

He untied the bandanna that he wore around his wrist covering the burn over what used to be the Monroe insignia. He poured some water from the canteen onto it and then turned to her. He gently wiped the blood off her neck and looked at the cut.

"It's not bad…a little deeper than a paper cut. Here," he held the bandanna out for her to take, "hold this to it for a few seconds so it doesn't start bleeding again." She did as he asked.

"Now," he smiled slightly, "how's the hand, Ali?"

She looked at him. This was a side to him she rarely saw; a side to him she wished he'd share more often. It felt like he actually cared which seemed as foreign to her as having the lights turn on. She hadn't seen this side of him since that day at the school when they were trying to find Aaron…the day he had left but then came back….for her.

She held her hand up for him to look at.

"Not too bad," he surmised, "just a few cuts and bruises. Does it feel okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "my head hurts worse. Who knew head butting someone could hurt so badly?"

"I don't think you were really thinking of the consequences at that point," he said gently, looking her right in the eyes. She met his gaze for a moment before turning away. She knew what was coming.

But first, he asked, "How are your ribs? Any feel broken or cracked?"

"No," she replied, "my breathing doesn't hurt."

"That's good," he said, "But just to be sure…"

Before she knew what he was doing he had straddled her legs. She looked at him surprised.

"This is the best way for me to check," he said.

She hesitated.

"Time's a wastin', girl," he drawled, "Let's do this while we still have light."

She relaxed her body and nodded.

He slowly, tentatively, reached for the hem of her tank top. He pushed it part way up her body, just beneath her bra.

"Hold this," he breathed. She did so, watching his eyes.

"Whoa!" he groaned. "Would you look at the wallop you took there? That guy got you good. It's already purple!"

She looked down to see a bruise the size of a grapefruit on the left side of her abdomen. Wow, no wonder she was in so much pain, she thought.

Bass put his hand gently on the bruise and ran his fingers along its sides and through the center. She felt lightheaded upon his touch and hoped he didn't notice the tiny goose bumps that had risen upon her skin. God, what was wrong with her, she thought. It's Monroe! You hate him….right?

His hands then gently glided up the side of her rib cage feeling for any cracks or breaks along the way.

Man, he thought, just touching her like this was pure torture. It made him want more. All the sudden he wanted to explore her entire body like this. What is wrong with me, he thought. She's in pain and just tried to get herself killed and you're thinking about seeing her naked. As quickly as he'd straddled her legs, he now climbed off and sat back down next to her.

"I think its all okay," he breathed. "No cracks or breaks from what I can tell and if you had anything bleeding internally or anything we'd know by now."

She sighed, lowering her tank top back to its original position. The light in his eyes while he examined her and the look of agitation afterwards hadn't gone unnoticed. She almost smiled, inwardly.

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

Her expression turned dark. She thought about all the ways she could answer. She could lie or just ignore him…but honestly, she was just too damn tired to try either and knew somehow that he would see right through her.

"I don't…know," she uttered. "I'm not sorry those men are dead, I know that much."

"I'm not either. But, Charlie," he spoke gently, "the reasons you did it scare the hell out of me and should scare the hell out of you." He looked at her gravely.

He was being honest with her, sincere. She could feel it to her very core. She decided she owed him just as much.

"I don't know…what happened," she said. "When I saw them I just go so angry. I instantly thought of Jason and what they'd done to him…what they…turned him into. The rage in me just went out of control—I instantly wanted them dead and I didn't care what I had to do to make that happen. And I knew I was taking a huge chance even as I was running towards them…but…I just…. didn't care." Her voice trailed off.

She was looking down at the ground, unwilling to meet his gaze. "Charlotte," he murmured. "You have so many people that care about you & would hate to lose you. Please know that."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I'm just so tired. Sometimes…I just want to be done. I want to disappear…and I'm just so sad…" Her voice broke.

Suddenly, the weeks of pain and anguish and suffering that she'd been holding inside gave way and she began to cry. It was like a dam inside her broke and as much as she wanted to stop it from happening…especially in front of this man…she couldn't.

Her sobs wracked her entire body and he grabbed onto her, wrapped his arms around her and held on for dear life. She had to let it out, he knew this. And as hard as it was for her to appear weak in front of anyone, let alone him, he was proud of her for being able to let go. He turned and softly kissed the crown of her head and she turned her face into his chest and cried like she hadn't done before.

Eventually, her cries became softer and fewer in between. Then, quieter still, her breathing began to even out until he realized she'd fallen asleep.

Good, he thought, as he continued to hold onto her, not wanting to ever let go. She needed this. He knew they wouldn't make it back to camp tonight. He knew Rachel and Miles would be worried to a fault. But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was her. And she was sleeping quietly now; probably for the first time since Jason's death. And to Bass that was all that mattered.

The last bit of light faded out of the forest, leaving them behind in darkness; Bass smiled.

Author's note: As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated.