Hey wonderful readers and writers from all over the world! How are you today? It's almost weekend, so here is another chapter to celebrate! Of course, as always, the next one is on my writing table, busy writing! Thank you for reading and letting me know what your thoughts are.

After this story I am working on another Charloe story, that will follow the season but will leave out some parts, like the connor-charloe hook up in Vegas. A lot of Charloe fans wanted another twist in the story and you know what's the beauty in fanfic? We can do that! A different view on things, following the episodes, but then with new scenes and some alterations, combined with the old one!

So, if you have any requests, thoughts or ideas on that story, please feel free to share!For now, my gratitude for reading and best to you all!

Disclaimer: yes, sigh, I do not own Revolution, this is just that daydream of what could have happened when the camera's where not there for us to see. Of course, the camera crew needed a break every now and then too ;-)

Things change

The morning after the nightmare she had woken up after hours of deep dreamless sleep. Normally she was up at the hint of dawn but this time she could feel the sun already shining through some of the leaves above her. Her body felt less tied up, like there was tension gone she hadn't even noticed. She did not move or open her eyes yet, thinking about what have happened. She then remembered the light touch of his hand against her face. It happened so fast, that she was not sure it actually happened.

The first thing she noticed when she did open her eyes was seeing Monroe's bedroll closer to hers than it normally was. Monroe himself was nowhere to be seen. She sat up, stretched her body and then got up. At that moment he walked back from the stream that was not too far away. He had gotten some fresh water for on the road and when he approached her he threw an apple her way. She cought it. Breakfast on the go, she thought.

He quickly began to clear the camping area and she followed him by packing her things. She felt unsure what to do. She was grateful for his comfort, but was not ready to thank him. It was still too hard to utter those words towards Monroe. And even is she was ever to be ready, than her stubbornness was another obstacle to take.

In silence they finished packing everything so they could get on the road again. Charlie passed Monroe on her way to the front of the wagon. And just as she passed him, she heard his voice.

'Are you..are you okay,'?

She could her the hesitation in his voice, like he was still figuring out if she would make another attempt on his life if he would ask something that she didn't like. She froze. Did not have to stomach to look him in the eyes. Her shoulder touched his arm when they were next to each other. Not facing each other but still so close.

'I'm okay Monroe,' she replied softly, still calling him Monroe but the usual sting that she threw in normally with saying his name was not there this time. Charlie was not able to say more. Her shoulder still touching his arm. And at that moment she just knew, the memory of his hand against her face, that was real. It happened. It definitely happened.

Two weeks later...

She woke up with her heartbeat in her ears. Her head felt heavy and her leg hurt. She was on the ground, not far from a tree. Instincts told her to get up, and keep moving.

That morning they got into a little town for some errands, not intending to stay long, when all of sudden Monroe grabbed her by her wrist.

'Go,' was all he grunted towards her. It was his General-voice, the one that meant business.

First she wanted to be pissed at him, but that feeling went away very fast when she saw the serious and intense look in his face. Charlie realised he was not being a son of a bitch, he was just making sure they got the hell out of there. Fast. It was all over his face.

She ran along with him when she heard screams behind them. They turned a corner and ran from away further from the screams. The made it out of the town, Monroe leading them to safety. They found the tree line south of the little town and searched for cover there. They got separated for only a moment, she kept running but all of a sudden the ground beneath her moved and started gliding down a small hill. She tried to stop herself but could not stop her fall anymore. She rolled over a couple of times and landed on her shoulder. The point of touching to ground was harder then she expected and she passed out for a couple of moments.

When she regained her focus, she used the tree to find her balance. Her leg hurt but she could stand on it, so for now, that was the least of her worries. She got up and looked around her, scanning her surroundings for possible dangers and Monroe. Charlie got the gun from the waistband of her jeans and slowly started to climb up the little hill she slipped down from. She made sure she stayed low. It did not take her long to reach the top. The first thing she saw was Monroe on the ground. Next to two men. She pointed her gun at the men and after checking and knowing for sure they were not going to be threat anymore she turned to Monroe.

He was shaking his head to clear his mind but was able to get up fast. He still had an intense look in his eyes. She scanned, without really noticing why she cared so much, his body quickly. He seemed alright.

'What the hell happened,' she wanted to know, the adrenaline racing through her body.

Monroe rolled one of the dead men over with his foot. He nodded at the direction of his arm. She saw the man had tattoos she never saw before.

'Probably some clansmen, they were raiding the town,' he growled. 'Sons of bitches. We need to get the hell out of here.'

They circled around the town to get back to their wagon, Charlie could still here the screams. With every step they took they died down. This could have gone wrong very fast, she realised. It was the first moment she thought about what could have happened and what that would mean to her family. If she got hurt or died, both of those scenarios very realistic to her, Monroe would need so much more time to find them. If he would find them at all. They would get no warning.

She shook her head and focused on the road. They travelled for hours before they dared to stop.

They sat up camp and ate something. Charlie noticed he did not use his shoulder like he used to. Something was off. Next she saw the red of blood on his shirt. She learned enough from Maggie to know that this could mean trouble.

'What's with the shoulder, Monroe?' she asked as casual as she could.

'Don't need a nurse Charlotte', there was a build up of irritation in his voice when he answered. Charlotte, he named her Charlotte again.

Charlie felt some anger light up. Stubborn son of a bitch. Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, she could be to.

'Fine, whatever, it's not like you need that shoulder to fight,' she threw in his face, ' It will probably be infected in days, but hey, since we are here on our own, I don't see what the hell could go wrong.'

She walked over to his bag.

'What the hell do you think you are doing,' there was a hint of warning in his voice.

She decided to ignore him and got the little flask out of the small pocket at the right sight of his bag. She threw it towards him the same way the threw the water bottle at her when she woke up, her head spinning from the drugs, many nights ago now.

'For the wound, not to enjoy yourself.'

'Why do you care so much, for fuck sake Charlotte, you tried to assassinate me at least three times. And now you are playing all nice?' He snorted.

There was a part in her that did not even understand herself. But instead of figuring it out, she took the fighting way out. Hearing him call her Charlotte, was just the little incentive she needed to go for another round with him.

'Why do I care so much?' Her eyes darkened. Anger built up inside of her. 'You left me no other choice then to let you join me on this little road trip. So, now we are going to see this through. I did not spent all these weeks on the road with you Monroe, to let something stupid as a wound from a knife get the better of you. So grow up and make sure that wound stays clean.'

Charlie marched over to the wagon to get her bedroll. The truth was she needed to calm down and not think about the obvious question Monroe shoved in her face. Why did she care so much? From the beginning this was the dynamic between her and Monroe. It was a mental rollercoaster ride. God, she wished they were almost at Willoughby.

But then she rememberd his touch, his eyes when she woke up from that nightmare. She saw another part of Monroe, and it made things so much more intense and difficult. She slowly gazed at his direction from the corner of her eyes. He had taken the flask and was using the alcohol to disinfect the wound. Charlie saw a hint of hurt on his face, the wound was deep. Blood everywhere. When Monroe took care of the wound and cleaned himself up she saw how he struggled to get his jacket over his wounded shoulder. Before Charlie realised it she was walking over towards him, dropping her bedroll next to fire. Without looking at him she walked to his side, took the jacket from his hand so he could put his arm in the sleeve No words, no looks. She went to her bedroll and sat by the fire in silence. She just helped Monroe. And he had let her.