Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. They really mean so much to me and keep me going. This story is basically, what I wished had taken place on my TV screen after Jason died. I wanted Monroe to care about what Charlie was going through and to see Charlie deal with her guilt a little more. And, of course, the Charloe factor J

Chapter 5

Charlie was sitting with her back against the building Bass dubbed 'her little house' with her head tilted towards the sun, eyes closed. Since the experience in Austin she had found this was one thing that gave her some solace, some few moments of peace- the feeling of the sun on her skin.

Summer was here and Texas was getting hotter. Some days, she thought to herself, it was so hot you could fry an egg on a rock…that is, had they any eggs. The thought of an egg, though, turned her stomach so she didn't mind the fact that they were scarce, at least where they were hiding out. She was quite sure that in town, the Patriots probably had plenty.

The patriots or lack thereof, was of concern to everyone in camp. Scouting reports said they were sticking to town, only leaving to get food from the local farms—or go hunting, she thought. None had been spotted anywhere near their camp and the lack of activity on their part was of concern to Bass & Miles. Something was up. Charlie, however, didn't really care one way or the other. She was way too distracted and the depressed mindset she'd been in had been calling all the shots in her life…leaving her exhausted, sad, irritable & wanting to be alone most of the time.

The exception was Bass. Her time with him was helping her- not only was she sleeping better & therefore, feeling slightly more alert during the day time- talking to him about everything that was bothering her had proven to be so helpful, she was almost thankful for the night she'd bawled her eyes out to him like a baby. She hadn't ever planned on telling anyone the things she'd been thinking after Austin, but was now so glad she did. To talk to someone who'd been there made all the difference.

Charlie opened her eyes and looked out upon the landscape in front of her. She was sitting on the side of the house, parallel to camp but facing east- the camp faced west; essentially, she had her back to camp which is the way she liked it. She was atop a huge hill that led down into a field, mostly grass covered, although some of it was now turning brown in the Texas sun. Across the field was another forest, much like the one she and Bass had gone into to go hunting. Before she'd started meeting up with Bass, before she'd started sleeping somewhat again, she used to come up here every morning for the sunrise. It was the only solace in all her agony.

Jason was heavy on her mind today. She knew in her head that the real reason he was dead was due to the Patriots brainwashing of him- that she had no choice in killing him or else she, herself, would now be dead—and he would be alive and remain a virtual killing machine. But in her heart was where she had the problem; in her heart was where the guilt lay.

The thought that kept eating away at her now was the fact that he didn't get a proper burial. Who knows what happened to his body after she left; who knows if anyone had even found him yet? Unless the building was being used he could still be lying in the same spot she left him in. The thought of it haunted her. With the heavy heat of summer, though, people were bound to smell a decaying body by now. But what they may have done with him after finding him didn't offer her any comfort- either a mass grave or his body was burned, she thought sadly—with no one who knew or loved him anywhere to be found- -no one to say any final words or to say a prayer.

Jason blaming her for his death haunted Charlie at night. What happened to him later haunted her during the day.

She took a long sip from her canteen and looked out across the field that lay in front of her. If I could have brought you back, she thought, this is where I would have buried you, Jason.

She pictured Bass sitting at his parents and sisters graves, talking to them, as he had told her he'd done every time he was on leave from the Marines.

This thought gave Charlie an idea. Even though she couldn't bury Jason's body like she'd have wanted to maybe she could still have a burial of sorts.

Jason had given her a necklace once, something he'd found in one of the small towns they'd stopped in before Colorado…before the tower. It was just a thin leather band with a metal charm at the end of it. The charm was of a flower but through the years since it was made and previous owners use it was scratched and dulled. Charlie had liked it though. She hadn't worn it in almost a year, having given up long ago on ever seeing him again. She'd been carrying it in her pocket since Austin.

There was movement from the side of her and she looked up to see her grandpa.

"Hi there," he said.

"Hi Grandpa," Charlie gave a small smile.

"It's lunch time. Ready to eat?" he asked, holding a bowl of something out to her.

"Okay," she said to appease him, taking the bowl of hot stew.

"It's rabbit," Gene said. "We ran out of the venison a while ago. Try to eat it, Charlie- you need the protein. Also the vegetables…make an old man happy." He gave her a hopeful smile.

"I'll try," she said.

He hesitated. "Honey, when you sit up here all day we worry about you. We can't even see you from camp."

She felt a battle coming on and grimaced.

He saw the look and held up his hands. "Now, we don't ask that you come down from here…but maybe you could sit on the other side of the building—you know, just so we can see you, make sure you're okay."

"The sun isn't on that side right now, so no," she said evenly. "Plus, there's more to look at over here—and Bass & Miles come check on me several times a day if they're around."

"About Bass," he said prodding, "what's up with him? We feel like maybe you're spending too much time wi…"

She cut him off. "Grandpa," she said, trying to remain calm, "stop saying 'we' like I don't know who else you're referring to, first of all."

He looked sheepish having tried to bring Rachel into it without saying her actual name.

"And as far as who I 'spend time with', that's really none of your concern- And…if you want me to actually eat this stuff instead of handing it right back to you then you oughtta just stop this line of conversation and go back to camp right now."

"But," he tried.

"No buts!" she insisted, holding the bowl of now cold stew out in front of him, daring him to go further.

"Okay, okay," he finally backed down. "I'm going."

"Finally," she breathed after he'd left. "Old people".

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Bass was sitting on a log eating his stew when he saw Gene coming down the hill from Charlie's house. Old man looks frustrated, he thought. Gene must've felt eyes on him because the next thing Bass knew, Gene's eyes turned to him and the look of frustration turned into a definite glare.

Bass was so used to both Rachel and Gene's glares by now it had become almost comical. Some days he'd count them, other days he'd name them, etc, etc. This was Gene's 'if looks could kill' glare.

He'd better go check on Charlie, he thought, as he got up.

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Charlie was at the edge of the forest. After Gene had left she had quickly discarded the bowl of cold stew into the bushes and started walking down the hill and across the field.

She knew what she was going to do. Tentatively, she entered the forest.

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Bass got to the top of the hill and rounded the corner of the house, fully expecting to find her there, still fuming from whatever had happened between her and her grandfather.

He stopped short when she wasn't there. He looked around- he saw her empty bowl of food but little else. He took a look inside the house—no Charlie. He walked around to the other side—still no sign of her. He stood at the top of the hill and looked around as far as his eyes could see. He tried to bite down on the feeling of panic that was beginning to take hold inside of him.

He took a deep breath & took a closer look at his surroundings. Down the hill, he noticed that some of the grass was pushed down from someone walking upon it. He ran down the hill at top speed calling, "Charlie!"

The rise of panic was unstoppable at this point, as she was nowhere in sight.

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Charlie soon found what she was looking for. She found two sturdy branches about the length of her arm or a little longer and then gathered some rocks. She was putting the rocks in her sack when she heard him calling for her.

"Bass?" she called. She began to make her way back out of the forest and into the field of tall grass.

When she saw him she stopped in her tracks, shocked. The look of pain and fear that clouded his face made her jaw slacken and drop. "Bass, what's wrong?" she asked slowly.

He looked at her, barely able to speak for fear of the bile that had risen up his throat making its escape. He breathed hard. "I, "he tried.

She walked to him, putting a hand on his arm. "You what?" she asked. When he couldn't continue she placed her hand on his heart. "My God, "she said. "Your heart is going to beat right out of your chest! Please calm down and tell me what's wrong. Has something happened? Is everyone okay?"

She moved to pull her hand away but he grabbed onto it, holding it in place over his heart- the feeling of it somehow calming him. He sat down, pulling her down next to him.

"I," he tried again. "I couldn't find you."

All the sudden it hit her. Oh my God, she thought, I'm such an idiot! "Oh, Bass," she breathed. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. You must've thought…" Given their recent conversations about wanting to disappear and what she'd tried with the Patriots, she knew exactly what he'd thought. He thought she'd gone off to do something self-destructive & harmful to herself. She closed her eyes in shame. "I'm okay," she soothed, reaching out to rub his back with her other hand. "I didn't do anything stupid. I wasn't going to hurt myself," she breathed, resting her head on his shoulder.

They sat there in silence for a little while and Bass' breathing began to slow, matching Charlie's in pace.

She had never seen him like this and she was more than a little startled and slightly overwhelmed. Unlike the anger he'd shown when she'd rushed the Patriots, this was different. She was used to seeing his anger. This was outright fear. This was new.

"You can't do things like that, Charlotte," he said, throatily. "Wandering off like that by yourself…you just can't."

"I wasn't thinking…" she trailed off.

"You're damn right you weren't!"

There was the anger she was used to, more comfortable with, but it still hurt. She took her hands away from him and folded them in her lap.

"The things that were going through my mind," he continued. His eyes looked pained and he averted her gaze. "Charlotte," he finally looked at her. "I know you've had enough loss in your life to last a life time…but so have I. I can't…" he paused. "I can't lose you too."

Their eyes met and she thought his looked slightly moist. "I wasn't going to hurt myself, Bass. I'm sorry you thought that I was, I really am, but I think I'm finally starting to get past that…past having those thoughts in my head. I don't want to do that stuff anymore."

"Now you tell me," he half smirked. "You still can't wander off like that, this far from camp and by yourself. Anyone could've gotten you."

"The patriots haven't been…" she started.

He cut her off. "Don't be naïve, Charlie. You're smarter than that. Besides, it could have been anyone not just the patriots. You have to be careful- and you have to admit, you've been pretty much on auto pilot for a while now. You're not thinking as clearly as you normally would."

"You're right," she conceded. "I won't come down here again…unless, of course, you're with me." She smiled at him.

"Good answer," he smiled back, the fear and anxiety having finally subsided. He stood up and reached for her hand and pulled her up with him. He looked at her for a long moment. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to share. But for now, he pulled her to him, kissed her on the forehead and held her to him for a long moment. He breathed in her scent and exhaled, at last feeling okay…she was safe and with him. "Someday I have things I want to tell you, but they can wait a little while longer. Please just know for now that I care about you very much and your well being and safety are very important to me."

"So basically, "she eyed him, "don't ever do that again or you'll kill me yourself?"

"I wouldn't go that far," he laughed, releasing her, "but let's just say it wouldn't be in your best interest."

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That night he got one of the other guys to cover his watch- as leader, he really wasn't required to do it anyway but he'd been volunteering because he couldn't sleep. Tonight, though, he didn't think that'd be a problem. When Charlie came to sit with him, as per usual, he took her hand and led her straight to their sleeping cove. Connor had long since taken his bedroll elsewhere, tired of constantly being awakened by her nightmares and his whispering so they had the small area to themselves.

Without a word they both laid down and he pulled her close to him. He held her tighter than he'd ever done before and because she sensed he needed it, she held onto him tightly as well. He nestled his face into her hair and soon they were both fast asleep, exhausted from the emotional toll the day had taken on both of them—and for the first time in over a month, Charlie had no nightmares.

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The next morning they woke to find that they hadn't moved an inch all night; and with the realization that there had been no nightmares, they each felt victory.

"Tell me," Bass said, still keeping his arms around her, "What were you doing in the woods anyway?"

She told him of the idea she'd had; that she wanted to make some kind of memorial site to Jason because she hadn't been able to give him an actual burial. She told him about the wood she'd collected to make a cross and the rocks for a mini rock wall to place around it. Lastly, she showed him the necklace Jason had given her so long ago and said she was going to bury it in his memory.

Bass liked the idea and offered to help her in any way he could. He was going on a scouting mission with Miles today and would be back later.

"I'll be up the hill behind my little house," Charlie said, squeezing his hand. She was quick to add, "And I promise, I won't go any farther than that."

"Okay," he said, trusting her. "I'll come see you up there when I get back- probably around lunch time. I'll bring you some of what ever we're having and maybe you'll eat this time?"

"I'll try," she smiled.

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Charlie worked all morning on Jason's memorial spot. Having a purpose, a goal, made her feel somewhat alive again—and she felt like she was doing something right by Jason.

A week or so ago Gene had given her a small bag of flower seeds saying she could try and beautify the camp. She had laughed at the time thinking he was crazy even though he meant well and was just trying to find something to keep her active. She decided to use them now.

She decided to put his small plot at the top of the hill overlooking the field and forest, where it could catch the morning sun. She dug a hole and placed the necklace inside it along with a handwritten note that said, 'You were always a good, strong man and didn't deserve what happened to you. I will always hold a special place for you in my heart. Love, Charlie.' She covered the hole in dirt and then planted the seeds in the top layer.

She placed some smaller rocks around the dirt mound; she placed larger rocks well outside of that, leaving a row of grass in between. It was in the grass that she would place the cross.

She whittled one end of the longer sticks to a sharp point so it would be easier to push into the ground. It ended up looking so nice that she ended up whittling down each end of the other stick, as well as the top of the post, although not as sharply as the first one.

She gathered some long, dry weeds from the arid earth and was starting to tie the sticks together to form the cross when Bass appeared.

"Hey," he said, walking towards her with two bowls of food in his hands.

"Lunch time already?" she asked. "Come to think of it, I'm actually hungry today," taking the bowl he handed to her. They both sat down on the grassy hill and ate.

He looked over at what she had done so far. "That looks really nice," he said, smiling at her. "Jason would be touched."

She smiled, looking at the little burial plot. "I just have to tie the cross together and then I'll be done."

"I like what you did with the sticks there," he said, pointing at her whittling work. "If you want to put his name on it I can help you with that."

She looked at him, surprised. "I hadn't even thought of that but that would be great…although, I guess we shouldn't put his last name, just in case."

No one had seen or heard from Neville since before Austin and didn't know if he was alive or dead. But it was too risky putting his moniker on the cross in case he came across it sometime. Also, the patriots shouldn't see it either.

"You're right," Bass said, picking up the shorter of the two sticks. He began carving the letter 'J' as Charlie looked on. When he was finished he held it out for her to see.

"That's really nice," she said, throatily. "Thank you." She tied the two pieces of the cross together and then pushed it into the ground so it was at the top of the plot, facing the field below.

She stood at the base of it, looking like she might say something so Bass started to go. "No wait," she said, "Stay. Please. I know you didn't like him much and he betrayed you in the militia but please stay. It would mean a lot to me." She held out her hand to him. Wordlessly, he took it and stood next to her looking down at the plot.

"Jason," she said, quietly. "You were so strong and so brave and I know you always tried to do what you thought was right or right by your family. What happened in the end was not your fault and you didn't deserve it. I will always hold you and the memories we shared in my heart. I'm glad I got to see you one last time." She looked at Bass. "Do you have anything you want to add?"

He looked at her and then down at the mini grave site. "Neville, we may not have always seen eye to eye but I did admire you for doing what you believed in; thank you for helping us in Austin. We couldn't have done that without you- and Charlotte is right- what the patriots did to you was not your fault. Wherever you are now, I hope you know that."

She smiled up at him and a small tear slid down her cheek. "Thank you," she said.

He squeezed her hand and held it to his lips and kissed it. "You're welcome, Charlotte."

She looked down at the burial plot once more. "Be at peace, Jason."

For once in a long, long time, Charlie felt a small sense of peace herself.

Author's Note: As always, reviews are most appreciated!