Chapter 5

As her and Nahla entered the house, Nahla striding purposefully towards the kitchen. Joan turned to Monroe and found him looking up at the wall mounts. She chuckled, remembering how much he hated them. A memory flashed in her mind of her and Monroe in a big two-story house similar to this one.

They had been on their way back to Philly but decided to stop for the night. She had been with Monroe for a year then and had started to notice some of the signs of paranoia, but tonight it was just them and he seemed at ease. It was a rare moment with out Miles or the Militia guard that followed him everywhere. Those were the only times he really opened up to her. They sat on an old but still comfy couch together, her head resting on his chest. She could tell something was wrong.

"What's wrong Bass?" She asked.

"Nothing." He said. He sounded distant as if he were in deep thought. She rolled her eyes and sat up. He turned towards her with a questioning look.

"What's wrong?" She asked, looking him in the eyes. He took a deep breath before answering.

"Its funny really. You see I hate the heads." She frowned and followed his gaze to a big longhorn shoulder mount on the wall. She couldn't stop herself from busting out laughing.

"Why?" She asked in between laughs.

"I don't know they have just always creeped me out." She started laughing again.

"Why?"

"We used to have one in my house when I was younger. I wouldn't even get out of bed to use the bathroom at night, cause I was so scared of it." He explained, shaking his head and laughing a little.

"Bass its dead! It couldn't hurt you!"

"I know that now! But when I was five I didn't!" They were both laughing now.

She couldn't help but smirk at the memory. She studied the man in front of her, remembering how different he had been from the day she had met him to the day she had left. He turned around.

"I like what you did with the heads." She couldn't help but laugh, the way he said it reminded her of that night and the man he used to be. She could have swore she saw smile tugging at his lips as he looked around.

"Joan you want anything?" Nahla called from the kitchen. She was fixing to go into the kitchen when she remembered Monroe. She hesitated before asking him.

"You want anything Monroe?" He nodded and walked to her.

"Yeah I could eat." She cast a smirk at Monroe as she called back to her.

"Monroe does!" She had been expecting her to throw something but a toaster? Really? She thought as she walked into the kitchen. "Missed me!" She taunted as she entered the kitchen. She never saw the knife, only Nahla's hand move.

"Jeez!" She heard Monroe say causing her to look back and see the knife. She looked back at Nahla, one eyebrow raised. Nahla was a master when it came to throwing knives. Her remarkable ability had saved both their lives many times.

"Wasn't aiming for you." Said Nahla looking coolly back at her. She glanced at Monroe with a smirk as he pried the knife out of the wood. She chuckled to herself before turning to continue what she was doing before. Joan shrugged and grabbed an onion. She glanced around and noted that Nahla had the other knife that had been laying on the counter. She glanced at Monroe.

"Let me see that Monroe." She said holding her hand out.

"No I think I'll hold on to this one. You can get another one." She looked up at him and saw him looking nervously at Nahla as she sliced a tomato. She rolled her eyes and reached for another knife. Nahla looked up smiling mischievously at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes. It was funny really for someone like Monroe to be nervous around Nahla. Then again Joan knew that Nahla could probably carve Monroe up like a Thanksgiving turkey if she really got the mind to. And judging by the way she was acting she was close to it.

Joan's thoughts were interrupted by Emma coming into the kitchen with a platter full of an assortment of meats. She remembered ordering the slaughter of an old cow that had gone lame and had not healed, that morning. She licked her lips as her mouth watered. Emma stopped suddenly aware of Monroe's presence. Oh crap. Nahla was quick to grab the tray as Joan pushed Monroe back through the door and into the living room.

"Stay here." She ordered, hoping he wouldn't be stupid enough to disobey her. She wasn't sure what she would do if he did come back in the kitchen while Emma was still there, but she knew that Nahla wouldn't be aiming for the doorframe if he did. They both felt a strange since of protection for the mute girl. For Nahla it was because she had found the young girl freezing and half starved to death. For her it was out of guilt. She had had the chance to end the Republic so many times. She could have stopped what had happened to Emma and the countless others that had suffered at the hands of the Monroe Militia. She swallowed hard as the guilt threatened to over take her, as it had many nights before when she thought too much about the sins of her past.

"Joan?" She looked up, trying hard to focus on the present.

"Hmm?" She asked seeing Nahla looking at her knowingly, holding a full plate out to her. She noticed that Emma was nowhere to be found. She sighed and taking the plate headed into the living room. She was surprised to find Monroe waiting patiently.

"Ok Monroe you can go get yours." She said, noticing the way his face fell.

"So are we going scouting in the morning?" Asked Nahla, as they sat on the big couch. Joan shrugged as she chewed on the meat, noticing the blood in it. Damn. She was going to get a hold of someone tomorrow.

"Sure." She said not getting a chance to add anything to it before being interrupted.

"You used to bring me dinner." Said Monroe, sounding deep in thought. Joan's jaw dropped as she tried to recover. Did he really just said that? Her whole body had gone cold. She glared at him, as she was sure Nahla was doing. He seemed to realize his mistake because he opened and closed his mouth but no words came out.

"That was then Monroe. A lot has happened since then." She said coldly. He finally just turned and went into the kitchen.

She swallowed hard as she looked down at the meat in front of her. The piece of cloth tied around her wrist had loosened and raised, burnt skin of the Monroe Militia brand could be seen peaking out. Swallowing the bile in her throat, she set the plate of food on the table and stood up on shaky legs. She needed to get out of here.

"Joan? You ok?" Asked Nahla, her features full of worry for the girl she had called sister for so long.

"I'm fine I just… I just need to get away for awhile ok?" She said with a nod, struggling to keep her voice strong. She opened the door and walked out into the night, her mind a mess of memories.