Water

The forest was a vibrant green, and the sun shone brightly through the canopy of trees. The intense heat of the summer engulfed the forest, and the sounds of crickets and cicadas filled the air. Charlie hiked through the same path she had taken just a few hours before trying her best to ignore the unbearably humid and hot climate. A relieved smile graced her features as she found the small oasis she had seen earlier. A small waterfall emptied out into a circular pond before continuing down the stream and reforming into the river. It was the perfect place for a bath, and after all the walking, sweating and fighting Charlie was unbelievably happy to have found such a perfect spot.

Charlie had told Miles where she was going, well sort of. She'd told him that she was 'going for a walk' and would be back in thirty minutes. Miles had sort of smirked in response, and considering he had also seen the little pond, and the way Charlie had looked at it, she was pretty sure he knew what she was really doing. In any case she had plenty of time to wash. She had one pair of spare clothes that she had to change into after her bath, which made it just that much more appealing. Charlie didn't remember the last time she had actually had a bath and clean clothes.

Taking one quick look around to make sure no one was there, Charlie set down her pack and peeled her clothing from her sticky skin before stepping into the cool water. The water was chilly, but Charlie enjoyed it anyway. Ducking her head under the water she rinsed her hair. When she came up for air, she just waded in the cool water for a while. It wasn't silent in the forest, wasn't peaceful per se, but to Charlie it was a premium spa treatment. Remembering what she had found in one of the abandoned shops they had passed a while back, Charlie swam over to the side of the pool and reached into her pack, smiling as she pulled out the bar of soap. It was a scented soap, some kind of fruity scent, something Charlie normally wouldn't use if given a choice; choice being the key word.

Humming lightly to herself, Charlie narrowly missed the sound of footsteps. She immediately froze though, upon realizing there was someone close by. Her first inclination was to think it was Nora, or Miles, coming to tell her it had been longer than thirty minutes and to come back to camp. But it wasn't either of them. She could hear two voices, men, talking and laughing. They were getting closer. Weighing her options Charlie realized it would take far too long to get dressed and run before they arrived. She couldn't just leave her pack behind, and she sure as hell wasn't getting out of the pond without clothes. Barely having enough time to do so, Charlie grabbed her things and hid under the embankment over the pond, clutching her pack, clothes, and boots to her bare chest under the water.

She could hear that the men must be right above her and she could hear them unscrewing bottle caps. They were probably just there for water. She hoped they would leave soon, there was hardly enough room for Charlie's head to remain above water. Charlie grimaced as she looked down at her clothes and pack, which were now soaked. She heard the men laugh some more before their footsteps receded, waiting a few minutes more just to make sure they were gone, Charlie emerged from her hiding place and sat her drenched things on the bank.

Annoyed at the whole situation, Charlie washed herself off again; the underside the embankment had been very muddy. Sighing she turned back to the shore, where she had set her soaked clothing, both pairs, on a flat mostly clean rock to dry. The humidity wasn't helping this though. Biting her lip Charlie wondered whether she should just put on the wet clothes anyway. When she got back to camp she could ask Nora to borrow some clothes until hers dried. Just as Charlie was about to hop out of the pond she heard someone call her name. And it wasn't Nora.

Submerging herself in the pond until only her head was sticking out, Charlie watched as Miles came through the trees. He stopped when he saw her, and then laughed. She knew she must look a bit comical, frowning, blushing with only her head visible, but Charlie did not appreciate his reaction.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie asked, miffed. Miles crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree.

"You've been gone for forty five minutes." He answered a hint of a grin still there.

"I mean, why are you here, instead of Nora?" Charlie clarified, although she had the feeling he knew what she meant the first time around.

"Well, you said you were 'going for a walk', so I didn't think it mattered who came to find you." He was still smiling. Charlie felt down right indignant. "Why're you so late anyway?"

"There were these guys-" She started.

"Guys?" Miles repeated. Charlie didn't miss the flash of anger or the way his hand went to the hilt of his blade.

"It's fine, I hid, they left, and they didn't even know I was here." Charlie placated. Her annoyed expression had softened considerably.

"Fine." Miles replied, although he didn't look very 'fine' to Charlie. "Just get dressed, and we'll go back to camp."

"Actually," Charlie began, "my clothes sort of ended up wet. So could you go back to camp and get some dry clothes for me from Nora?" She asked sheepishly. Miles blinked.

"Leave you here alone?" Miles crossed his arms again. "What, so those guys can come back and you can get captured, again?"

"It was only twice!" Charlie said exasperatedly. Seriously, she wasn't always getting caught and besides she was a good fighter. She was not as much of a burden as she thought Miles seemed to make her out to be. Nora had said he was just looking out for her, and just mad at himself for not preventing every little mishap that seemed to be the staple of their little adventure. She sighed. "Look, will you do it or not? 'cuz I really don't want to have to wear wet clothes all the way back to camp."

"Better idea," Miles unzipped his jacket, slid it off and held it out to her. "It should be long enough on you." That wasn't really what Charlie had expected, although nothing Miles did ever was. Nevertheless she rose out of the water just enough to take his jacket. As soon as she had he turned around. His back now facing her, Charlie stepped out of the pond and put the jacket on, zipping it up. Miles had been right, it was long enough, coming down to about mid-thigh.

Miles turned back around when he heard her finish zipping the jacket up. Charlie put the wet clothes into her also wet pack so it would be easier to carry. She then looked down at her boots. She had really liked her boots too; now they were dripping and she was about to have to put muddy feet into them.

"Really?" He asked looking a bit irked. She looked up at him, realizing he must have been watching her look at her boots. Sighing Miles walked towards her, grabbing her pack and throwing it over his shoulder he handed her the boots, and before she knew what was happening he had scooped her up and was carrying her off towards the camp. The water of the pond shimmered behind them.

History

It was the moment she had been waiting for. Ever since she had figured out why her dad had died, why Danny had been taken and who was ultimately responsible for the utter destruction of her life, some small part of Charlie had wanted revenge. Now, here she stood in the office of Sebastian Monroe, leader of the Monroe Republic, with his hands up and her cross bow aimed at his head.

"You're not going to shoot me," Monroe told her darkly. It was bad enough that he had destroyed her family, but worse was that he didn't look scared or even threatened by her despite the fact that she was the one armed.

"Yes, I am." Charlie said determined. The anger was evident on her face, her brows knit and arched, her nostrils flaring, and teeth clenched. "You took my mother."

"Miles-"

"Under your orders!" Charlie yelled. She wasn't going to let him try to shake her confidence in the one person who had been there for her through the entire ordeal. She took a breath. "You tried to take my brother." He didn't have anything to say to that. "You killed my father." She growled.

"That's what this is really about isn't it?" It was phrased as a question, but it was a statement. Monroe smiled. Charlie tightened her grip on her crossbow. He looked her straight in the eye and smirked. "He wasn't even your real father."

Charlie froze momentarily. Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch; her mouth went dry, and her mind raced. He had to be lying right? It was just a ploy. Unfortunately, ploy or not, it worked. In one swift movement Monroe had armed himself, and Charlie found herself looking down the barrel of a gun. There was a soft click.

Turning to look, Charlie saw Miles, who had entered from the side door. He had armed himself with a pistol, which was now trained on Monroe.

"Drop it." Miles ordered. Sebastian smiled and dropped it. "Now kick it over to her." Monroe did as asked, and Charlie retrieved the weapon. "Now, we're going to walk out of here." Miles slammed the butt of his pistol into Monroe's head knocking him unconscious. Charlie looked at the gun in her hands, and at that sorry excuse for a man lying slumped against his wooden desk.

"Charlie," Miles pulled her out of her trance. "Killing him won't change anything. And it won't make you feel better. It'll just make you hate yourself." His words were soft and kind, as was his hand when it took hold of hers.

Everything went by in a blur. She remembered them running down the hall, ducking from bullets and Miles cursing. She remembered the explosion, the one that allowed her and Miles to escape the complex, the shouts of the Militia and the bark of dogs. They were both out of breath.

Charlie wasn't sure how far they had run or how long, but her lungs were burning. Miles handed her a water flask and she drank deeply. Handing it back to Miles she tried to get her breathing under control. Her mind strayed back to what Monroe had said. It was what had been distracting her during their escape, what had almost got her killed back in that office. He had to have been lying. But when she had looked at him, when he had said it, he hadn't been lying. Charlie knew he hadn't. She dropped her head into her hands and tried to push the thought out of her mind.

"Are you okay?" She looked over at Miles, he looked concerned. Charlie thought that was the only time she'd really seen him look that way, except for maybe when Maggie died. Miles. He would know. If Monroe knew, then he had to.

"Miles," Charlie began; her voice was soft and sounded scared to her own ears. "Ben was my father right?" She looked him straight in the eye, and the fact that he didn't answer right away practically gave her the answer. She looked away.

"Charlie, he was your father, he raised you-"

"Is he my biological father?" Each word was emphasized. But she already knew the answer.

"No." Charlie could feel tears starting to well up, and she felt her throat tighten. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe normally. She calmed herself down enough to ask her next question.

"Who is he then?" Miles looked away. She saw his jaw clench.

"It doesn't matter Charlie. Ben raised you as his own-"

"Miles," Charlie stopped him, her voice hard. "I need to know." And she did. She didn't want to end up in another situation where new information about her caused her to lose focus in a fight. Charlie was tired of being the last to know everything. Miles knew what she was thinking, and she did deserve to know. But Miles really didn't want to be the one to tell her, he hoped it'd never come up. His luck was always rotten.

"Your mother was pregnant when she married Ben. Your parents they, were good friends. Ben was in love with her, and she…Rachel had a high school flame. The bad kind, real unhealthy relationship." Charlie nodded numbly. "Anyway, he was in my unit and after he shipped out, she found out she was pregnant. She didn't want to marry…him…she knew it would end up badly. Ben proposed, she said yes. Ancient history at this point."

"What happened to him, my father?" Charlie practically choked out the last bit.

"She did tell him eventually, he was angry, but in all honesty as much as he wanted her he…"

"Didn't want me." Charlie finished for him.

"He didn't want a family," Miles corrected firmly. "Ben loved you as his own, Charlie. It doesn't matter if you're not blood, you're still family." Charlie felt the tears start to fall. Miles reached out and put an arm over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She sniffed.

"Of course I'm right," that got a small laugh out of her. Then she asked the question Miles had hoped she wouldn't ask, the one he'd been trying to steer clear of.

"What was his name, my father?" Immediately Charlie knew something was up from the way Miles seemed to tense up.

"It doesn't matter, Charlie," he tried to brush it off. She could feel her heart begin to pound and the fear rise within her once more. Miles' reaction meant she knew him already.

"Miles, tell me."

"You don't want to know." She glared up at him, glad that anger was replacing the coiling fear.

"What is his name?" Charlie asked once more. Miles sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked way to on edge for having to just give her a name. Finally he relented.

"Sebastian Monroe."

And he was right; she really, really, really didn't want to know.

A/N

Thanks for all the reviews guys!