Somewhere in Kentucky…

Miles absently twists the band around his finger as their convoy makes its way steadily South. They hadn't had the rings for the ceremony, but Charlie had somehow managed to find some before he left the next morning. They don't match, Nora's is a silver ring with a red stone setting, and his own is a simple gold band. But that's OK as far as he's concerned. Matching is overrated anyway.

Hopefully, Tom will have managed to figure out what's going on before he gets to Tennessee and then all he'll have to do is clean up the mess and go home to his waiting wife.

Georgia Federation Garrison, Union City, Tennessee…

"You need some help?"

"Nah, I got it," Jeremy answers gruffly, attempting to pull his uniform jacket over his injured shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, Tom snatches the jacket from his hands and helps him gently ease it on.

"Thanks," Jeremy mutters, his discomfort with the whole situation completely obvious.

Tom shrugs noncommittally, not wanting to cause any upset to his friend's already fragile state. Wanting to change the subject, he asks, "so what do you think about Goodwin?"

Jeremy tilts his head in thought, then shrugs one shoulder. "He's alright I guess. Seems pretty full of himself though."

"I thought so too," Tom agrees.

Major Ryan Goodwin, one of President Foster's handpicked officers, had made a point to drop by the hospital and wish Jeremy well after Tom chewed him out on the street for getting some of his men killed.

"But I also think he's covering for Dixon, " Tom adds as an afterthought. "The idiot hasn't shown his face since he gave us that bad intel and Goodwin has only mentioned him enough to say that there's an ongoing investigation. Whatever they have going on, I don't like it."

Jeremy nods in agreement. "What about the mayor, didn't you have lunch with him yesterday? Did he give us anything to go on?"

"Not really. He did admit that they've been having trouble with war clans from the Plains, but other than that he didn't give me much. I got the feeling that he was told not to give away too much information."

Jeremy raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You think Kelly's trying to hide something from us?"

Tom considers this for a moment, but shakes his head. "No. She and the boys get along well, and she and Charlie get on even better. I don't think this about trying to do us any harm, at least not directly, I think she's probably just trying to keep her problems in house so we can't see just how bad it's gotten around here."

"How bad do you think it is?" Jeremy asks.

"Too soon to say."

Jeremy rolls his eyes in amusement. Tom is always analyzing and over analyzing people's moves and motivations. To him, life is just a big chess board. "You'll let me know if I start towards dangerous subjects, right?"

Tom chuckles. "Yeah, Jer. I've got your back."

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Despite the unbearably hot weather, Charlie is actually feeling quite pleased with herself. She's been taking a basket of rolls down to the shelter everyday this week, and today she even has a crate of early apples that a kind farmer in the market decided to donate. But while his generosity is something to be admired, the shelter is going to need something more sustaining for the long term. Perhaps a small garden out front. That might even help the men and women who rely on the shelter for sustenance, giving them a job to do.

Well, maybe not all of them. So far the man she tried to speak with on her first visit has yet to even acknowledge her presence. She'd asked Maggie if maybe he has some sort of brain damage, but the doctor seems more inclined to believe he's simply withdrawn into himself as a coping mechanism. Her only advice was to be persistent.

So, as she has everyday for the past week, Charlie passes out her rolls and lets the talkative ones tire themselves out before going to sit next to her new friend. She sees Maddox roll his eyes, he thinks her attempts are a waste of time, but she takes her seat anyway. As usual he takes no notice of her, his eyes glued to the world outside the window. Charlie takes a moment to study the view, committing the three trees and seven bushes to memory before turning back to her new friend.

"So you like nature?" She asks.

No response.

She peers back outside, noting the cracked sidewalk and various piles of mess left behind by the horses traveling on the road. The pre-blackout storefronts across the street have since been converted into homes for those who can't afford anything better. Children in raggedy hand-me-downs play in the street.

"Do you have any children?" Charlie asks tentatively, her hand automatically moving to her belly. She smile fondly down at her unborn child, then looks to the man for any sign a breakthrough.

Nothing.

Charlie sighs. She's long since given up on being frustration with the man, seeing as how it didn't get her anywhere, and has moved on to sadness, though she isn't exactly sure why. This man is a complete stranger. Even Evelyn, the woman that runs the shelter, hasn't heard him speak since he arrived three months ago. But for some reason she can't seem to bring herself to walk away. Aside from the obvious malnourishment and lack of hygiene, there's something in his face that finds familiar. It's an odd feeling, one that strikes hard into old memories of tent cities and reading circles around an oak tree and playing soldier while Miles and Bass taught the other to actually be soldiers.

Maybe it's not his face that feels familiar, but the emotion on it. Or lack thereof, in this case. And then it hits her. Bass. She has seen this blank stare before. Many years ago, after losing his wife and unborn child, Bass spent weeks as a hollowed out version of himself. Perhaps this man staring at the window has lost everything as well. Her heart suddenly aches for this man that she doesn't even know, the same way it did for Bass when she was young. Charlie reaches out with a gentle hand and gives his fingers a squeeze.

"You're going to come home with me today and meet my family." She doesn't wait for a response, knowing she won't get one. "And don't worry, you can stay with us for a while. We have plenty of room to spare."

It takes quite of bit of pleading on her part - to get Maddox to agree to this crazy plan - but she eventually just flat out orders him to get the man into the wagon so they can take him home. The man needs less convincing. A little coaxing and a nudge in the right direction and he allows himself to be led outside and into the wagon without incident. Out in the sun, Charlie has to squint at the brightness of his pale skin. He's even pastier than Miles. There's no change in him as they cross town back to Independence Hall, his eyes fixed on a point far ahead of them, though they do draw a small crowd as they pull up in front of the house.

The guards on duty are wary

of the seemingly mentally ill guy that their First Lady has brought home and Maddox isn't very helpful with his gruff attitude. Charlie glares at him.

"You don't have to be so rude," she whispers harshly as he helps her down from the wagon.

He scoffs. "Well excuse me for not being excited about having to tell my boss I let his wife bring home a pet crazy person."

Charlie shakes her head at him, anger flaring up in her chest. "I'll deal with Bass, you just worry about doing your job."

She take hold of the man's hand and leads him inside, leaving poor Maddox to trail after them sheepishly.

XxX

Of course he was right though, Charlie broods to herself as she sits on the living room couch watching her husband pace back and forth. For the last forty minutes he's been going on and on about how dangerous it is to invite strangers to live in their house. She has yet to point out that Ben, Rachel, and Danny were essentially strangers when they moved in. Or that Frank Blanchard and Kelly Foster were hardly old friends when they first started coming to visit. Bass doesn't like to be interrupted mid-rant, plus it's been nearly three weeks since he's had a drop of alcohol in his system. Probably best to just let him be.

"... might be a serial killer for all we know! What if he attack you and hurts the baby? What if he attacks anyone in the house? That guy is unstable Charlie, I thought we agreed that having unstable people in the house when the baby gets here is out of the question. That's why we made Rachel move out!"

Rubbing her head, Charlie looks up at him at a loss for what to say. "But he looked so lost," she finally says.

Bass' shoulders slump as the fight goes out of him and he joins her on the couch. "I know you're just trying to help him, and I love that about you, it's just that right now isn't the best time with Miles gone and you being pregnant, and I'm trying to do my job and Miles' job at the same time."

"I know," Charlie admits softly. "But does that really justify turning away someone who really needs our help? Just because it's an inconvenient time?"

Sighing, Bass takes one of her hand in both of his and kisses her palm. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?" He asks, his lips still pressed against her skin. Charlie shakes her head.

"Alright. He can stay," Bass says.

"Really?" Charlie asks, a smile already breaking out across her face at having gotten what she wanted.

Bass rolls his eyes, knowing that he never really stood a chance to begin with. "Yeah, he can stay. Just keep him downstairs and don't let him go roaming around. I don't want any rumors about a crazy guy in the capital getting out."

Charlie nods obediently, making him chuckle. "You've already got him set up in a room, don't you?"

She grins, kissing him swiftly on the lips. "You know me so well."