Word Count; 4432

Notes at the bottom

CHAPTER 22:

His eyes were fixed on her back as she marched in front of him. They'd immediately kept walking when they found the rest of their group and Miles was leading them back to the camp single file. Bass had managed to stay behind Charlie during the walk. She'd come back for him. After everything he pulled in his life, after all the hurt he'd caused... she'd come back for him. And damn it if that didn't make him love her even more. Behind him he could hear the steady sound of Connor's boots hitting the ground, they were making pretty good time and they would be back at the camp in no time.

It amazed him they'd been able to get away pretty easily but then again, they had taken care of most of the Patriots the first night. Neville most likely just didn't have the man power to go out searching for them.

The decision had been made they would immediately go back to the camp where the others would be waiting, they needed to get to a safe place. Somewhere they could easily defend themselves if need be.

"Shit!" Miles' voice jarred him from his musings and he slipped past Charlie to find out what was going on. They'd arrived at the camp, or at least, where the camp used to be. Now it was nothing more than rocks and the remnants of a fire. Where the hell were Rachel and Gene? He watched as Miles searched the old campsite for any clues as to where the others might have gone. "Where are they?" Charlie's worried voice cut the silence. "Miles, where's mom and grandpa?" She followed her uncle around and Bass could tell she was worried.

"I don't... hold up." Miles walked over to a pile of rocks and started lifting them up one by one until he was holding a small piece of paper in his hand. "Here we go. Smart girl." Miles unfolded the paper and Bass was thrumming with curiosity. Well that or maybe it was because he felt bruised all over and he was covered in his blood, both his own and that of the Patriots he'd killed before getting caught, his clothing still damp from when the buckets full of water had been dumped over him. "Says here they went north, that's smart, away from the Patriot brainwashing camp. Something about an abandoned dam or something? Gene knows the area pretty well."

"We should just head north" Pete offered "The other guys from Duncan's crew... we know how to communicate when we want to find each other but don't want to be found by anyone else. They'll have left clues for me to follow." Pretty damn smart, but then Bass always knew Duncan was a smart woman. That was the reason he'd been so attracted to her, she was smart, strong, stubborn and kicked ass with the best of them. Hmm, he figured he did have a type of women he liked after all. If he thought about it the similarities between Charlie and Duncan were uncanny.

His eyes traveled once more to the small blonde standing with Miles and he felt his fingers itch. Wanted to thank her for saving his bacon, again. He wanted to touch her, taste her, hold her, anything. "Ok, We'll head south. Keep your eyes peeled and ears open, there is a reason they split without waiting for us." Bass nodded in agreement with Miles, there was no way Gene and Rachel would leave without Miles and Charlie unless they absolutely had to.

Miles took the front again followed by Pete and Connor. Charlie made a move to step in behind Connor but to do so she had to walk past Bass. The moment she was within reach he stretched out his hand and for a split second laced their fingers together. His eyes didn't meet hers, he stared straight into the night so she couldn't see what was in his eyes, he didn't dare show her his vulnerability. Bass felt her squeeze slightly for a moment before he let go of her hand so she could step in front of him.

They'd been walking for quite some time now and the prospect of having to walk even further didn't put him in such a great mood. Bass was starting to feel exhausted, the fact that his ribs ached wasn't helping either. He knew they weren't broken, he'd had broken ribs before and this wasn't it but they still hurt like hell. The blood on his face and wrists was starting to cake to his skin and itched like a mother, he would give good money, if it would still have any value, for a nice hot bath or shower. Not that those things were easily available but a man could dream. God he missed showers, he missed standing under a flood of nice warm water after a long, hard day.

Because he was so caught up in his thoughts he planted his feet wrongly and stumbled, quickly reaching out a hand to steady himself against a tree. Damn, but he was tired as hell and everything was sore. His hand came up to rest against his ribs, hoping the added pressure would somehow lessen the pain, he was wrong. Wincing he removed his hand and tried to breathe slowly trying not to expand his chest while still getting enough oxygen into his lungs.

Suddenly he felt a warm, slender hand on his arm "Bass, are you ok?" When he looked up his eyes found Charlie's and he could see she was worried. He tried to smile at her but he figured it was more like a grimace and nodded "I'm fine." There was no way she was going to believe him so he wasn't surprised at her "Bullshit. You're not fine, you're covered in blood and your movements are slow and careful." Her gentle hand touched his cheek and tried to wipe some blood from his face. By now it was dry though so it didn't work.

Bass tried another smile, this one a little more convincing "I just need a bath and a little rest. I'll be right as rain, Charlotte." He grabbed her hand and took a step closer, her scent filling his nose "I'll be fine, I promise" Bass whispered.

"What the hell are you two doing? We gotta keep moving" Miles' voice was agitated and his eyes narrowed in anger. Bass didn't know if it was because Charlie and he were standing so close together or if it was because they were holding up the rest with their dallying. "Charlotte was just making sure I wasn't gonna up and die on you here and now. She said she'd get pissed if she'd gone to all this trouble to save my bacon just for me to die in the woods." The words seemed to somewhat appease Miles and he turned "Well stop fucking around and get moving!"

If Miles only knew how much Charlie and him were 'fucking around'. But they listened and once again Bass started following Charlie and Miles through the thick of the woods. They were lucky for the cover but they all still kept quiet so they could hear anything that might be a danger to them. Bass wondered what it would be like to not have to look over your shoulder every second of every day. He'd been fighting for so long and for so many different reasons he'd forgotten what it was like to be safe, to just stay in one place and not have to worry about what or who was going to step from behind a tree or what would be waiting around the bend of a road or river.

Pete's eyes searched the surroundings for clues left for him by his tribe-mates and they followed the bearded man through the woods, past rocks and over streams until they saw a large structure and Pete was leading them towards it confidently.

Bass noted that the structure was not large, it was huge. Pipes and walkways running through to the various buildings. It seemed to be pretty well defendable and should something happen there were enough places for them to hide and escape. Nowadays that's something you searched for in a place to stay, an easy way to get out when you needed to. They were like horses who smelled their stable and started picking up the pace to get where they wanted to be.

Mark was keeping watch and when he saw them he called out behind him to alert the others to their arrival. Rachel came running towards them and went straight for Miles and started bombarding him with why they weren't at the old camp any more. Patriots had been scouting the area and even though she and Gene had protested the three 'mercenaries' as she called them, had insisted they go for a safer hideout. Claiming that Pete would be able to find them. Them she went the other way, burring him in question why they'd taken so long and what happened and why was Monroe beaten black and blue. He tuned her grating voice out as best as he could.

With a sigh he dropped his pack to the floor and Bass looked around their new accommodations. It was no Hilton but it was sturdy and dry and concealed them from any people in the area. The structure lay well enough away from the road that they could neither be seen nor heard. Roger and Devon were sitting around a small fire, just embers really but Bass figured they didn't dare make the fire bigger just incase there were still Patriots around to see the smoke swirling up into the sky.

"Your other stuff." Mark dropped a bag by his feet and if Bass were an affectionate and hugging man he would have grabbed the stocky man tight and never let go. Mark had taken his pack with some spare clothes and other things from the other camp. Bass had never been so grateful for such a tiny gesture in his life and he offered the other man the smallest of smiles "Thanks, Mark." He picked up the bag and turned to where Miles and Rachel were still arguing, though that seemed to be something they did all the time now. Bass figured they just needed to get laid or something. "I'm gonna go find some water, wash this crud off."

Devon pointed him in the right direction and he didn't hesitate, he needed to get this caked on blood off his skin. "Dad?" Connor's voice stopped him and he turned, waiting for the younger man to catch up with him. Unexpectedly Connor stepped closer and awkwardly pulled Bass into a hug. A moment went by before Bass did anything but when he felt Connor begin to pull away he lifted his arms and reciprocated the hug. It was strange. Bass felt Connor's grip tighten when he returned the hug and hands clasped shirts and jackets as they stayed like that for minutes, it seemed. "Glad you're ok." Connor's words were muffled by Bass shoulder but he could hear them nonetheless.

Bass squeezed the younger man against him for a split second before letting go "Me too, kid. Me too." He cupped Connor's face in his hands and looked at the young man before him able to see Emma in their son's eyes. "Thank you, for coming back for me." A darkly curled head nodded "You're my dad and the last living family I got, as far as I know. I can't take most credit though, Charlie, she... There was no way she was leaving without you. She's the one who convinced Miles that they couldn't leave you behind."

The older Monroe smiled slightly "You both came back for me. It's more than I deserve, but thanks for it. The last thing I want is for Tom Neville's face to be the last thing that I see" He chuckled "That's not the way I want to go out." Connor smirked "No, I figure it's Charlie's face you want to see before you go out." And that earned him a smack upside the head from his father "None of your damn business." Bass replied. "Now, can I go take a damn bath? Before everything starts to stick to me." His son's face furrowed "That's... yeah, that's disgusting."

He resumed his way to the water, not a lake or pond this time but a small stream not 6 feet wide but it would do. Carefully he got to his knees and pulled off his shirt, it was black but where the blood had seeped into the fabric it was hard and stiff. He was going to have to boil some water if he wanted to get these stains out because there was no way he could get them out using cold water. Bass dipped the filthy shirt in the stream and washed it best as he could, figured he'd use it as a wash cloth to get rid of all the dirt, grime and blood on his face and upper body. He was nearly done with his face and torso when he heard rustling in the leaves behind him. Slowly and carefully he got to his feet and reached for his machete. "It's me."

Her voice was soft as she made her presence known and Bass dropped the blade, knowing he wasn't going to need it now. The shirt in his hands was soaking wet so he wrung it forcefully to get most of the water out, he needed to have something for his hands to grip or else he would reach out for her and if that happened, he didn't know what would come of that. Her blue eyes were narrowed in worry and he cursed silently, now he wasn't wearing the shirt she could see that his upper body was mottled with bruises. "Christ, Bass." Charlie stepped forward and reached a hand out to his midriff but he caught it before it could land on his skin.

The feeling of her hand in his was electric as he gazed into the deep pools of her eyes and he didn't know what to say. She'd proven that she cared about him, she'd come back for him, she'd refused to leave without him and it terrified him. Everyone he'd ever loved he'd lost, either by someone else's hand like his parents and little sisters or by his own hands like Shelly, Miles, Jeremy. The only two people in his life worth living for were Connor and Charlie, and maybe Miles, but he was afraid of the ramifications if he told her how he felt about her. Then again maybe she'd just yelled out anything it had taken to save him from Neville, a 'heat of the moment' thing never to speak of again. What if that was the case and he told her he was in love with her, she'd probably laugh in his face. So, like the man he was, he tried to pretend it didn't happen.

"I'm okay" And he tried to push her hand away but she wasn't having it. The moment he let got of her she stepped even closer and placed her warm palm on his sore ribs, the touch so light he barely felt it but the heat from her skin radiating into his. "Charlie.." Before he could say what he wanted to say she stepped again and ever so gently wrapped her arms around his waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. She kept it light as not to hurt him and he felt her lips graze the skin of his neck "Next time you order me to run... you damn well better be right behind me, Monroe."

The use of his last name made him smile and he wrapped his arms around her, what else could he do. His fingers tangled in her long locks and he pressed her so close he could feel his ribs protest. Bass didn't give a shit, he just held her tight and reveled in the softness and warmth she was providing. Charlie's breath ghosted across his skin as they stood there for minutes, just holding each other, words unnecessary. After a while it got too much for Bass, he pulled back and looked down at her. To his surprise he could see tears pooled in the endless blue of her eyes and he lowered his head. His hands still buried in her curls he brushed his lips across her's needing to taste her, feel her.

Her breath was shaky against his lips and he gently forced her mouth open under his, her lips warm and pliant as he slipped his tongue into the hot cavern of her mouth. She eagerly returned his kiss, her hands skimming the naked skin of his back, soft fingers careful not to hurt him. Gentle, so gentle, he thought. Bass kept the kiss slow and soft like her touch and after only a moment he pulled back and gently pushed her away. He didn't want to, god, he didn't want to but he knew that if he kept on kissing her it would be only a matter of second before he'd have her splayed out under him and this wasn't the time nor place for that.

His hand slipped down her right arm and his fingers skipped along the scar there. He'd never dared to ask before, sure, he had noticed the scar long before today but he was afraid to ask. When he'd fist saw the 'M' branded on her skin he'd been shocked, pretty sure she never volunteer for the Militia so it had to have been done on one of the conscription boats. Bass lifted her arm and brought the brand up to eye level "Finally wanna tell me what this is about?"

The hesitation evident in her eyes and he understood she's rather not talk about the past but he needed to know. He needed to know in how far he was responsible for the brand. "It was last year, while we were on our way to get Danny." A look of sorrow and pain crossed her face and he didn't know how to reply, should he keep quiet, should he say something, but she was already continuing. "We came across a group of kids who were orphans, their parents had been with the Rebels and they had been killed by Militia while Miles was still General." She took a breath "Militia had just taken the eldest kid and they wanted to go and get him. We went after him but when we found out that he was being taken to one of your... one of the conscription boats."

Bass shook his head and squeezed her arm "MY conscription boat, Charlotte." He whispered "I know what I did, what a monster I was. I won't deny it or hide from it." Charlie looked up at him and continued "Miles said we couldn't, that it was too hard but I..." She paused and he smiled slightly "You, being the stubborn woman you are, insisted upon it." She nodded "I let myself get captured so I could get onto the boat, I... there were other kids there and one of the men there said that if we wanted to leave, we could." He could hear the shiver in her voice now and had an inkling he wasn't going to like what was coming next. "One of the kids, a boy, took the opportunity and went to leave... the man, guard, he... The boy was beaten to death right in front of our eyes."

"Charlie, I.." His voice was hoarse, he'd know that kids on the conscription boats had been there against their will sometimes but he'd never even known or suspected it had been this bad. "Charlotte," He lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes "I didn't know. Yes, I knew that kids there not always were there of their own volition but I never knew THIS was happening on there. You have to believe me, Charlie." Bass needed her to believe him, because it was the truth, he'd never known things were this bad. "Charlie, I'm so sorry you had to witness that."

He pulled her back into his arms and rested his chin on her head "I'm so sorry." Bass felt her nod and her arms wrapped around his waist. "Thank you." She whispered as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. They stood there for a few minutes, Bass patiently waiting for her to continue.

"I needed to get keys to get around so I made some trouble for myself to get them, turned out it was a little more trouble than I was prepared for." Charlie turned her head so she was resting against his chest "I was taken to this room where I was pushed onto this table. This guy came over with a branding iron and he told me that Militia soldiers weren't born, they were made. It hurt like hell for a moment and then it just was this throbbing pain on my arm... That's how I got the brand."

Bass stroked his thumb along the raised ridges of the brand "I'm sorry they did that to you... now" He added. "If I'm honest then at the time I probably could have cared less but I think we already surmised I wasn't the best version of myself that time." She smiled at him gently "It's okay. It doesn't hurt anymore and I don't even notice it most of the times, unless somebody points it out."

Once more he raised her scar and this time ran his lips across the raised flesh, his tongue following the line of his initial. Her breath hitched and he felt her body unconsciously move even closer to his. "Charlie?" The words where growled in between kisses and nips as he laved her scar with attention, his other arm wrapping more tightly around her waist and pulling her flush to him. "Hmmm?" It was barely a whisper, more a half-moan coming for her mouth, too distracted with what his tongue was doing to her over sensitive skin. "Don't take this the wrong way but... I like seeing it on you." The growling tone of his voice even surprising him but it was the truth.

Some sick part deep inside loved seeing the brand on her arm, loved seeing HIS initial branded on her silky skin. The part of him that was dark, possessive and claiming loved seeing the pinkish skin marred by his name. The feeling that he wanted to 'own' her clawing at his insides and sometimes it was hard to keep it in check. His lips moved form the scar and his hand fisted in her curls, pulling her head back and raising her luscious lips to him, his earlier intentions of not letting it go further completely forgotten. "You're mine." He hissed before he crashed his mouth down to hers.

She kissed him back just as furiously, as viciously as he was kissing her. His hands fisting her hair and her hip and he demanded she open her mouth with his tongue. They dueled, fought for domination. Desperation lacing their kiss, anger and apology fighting lust and need. "Bass." His name from her lips only made him want her more and he pushed her down onto the ground, her legs spreading and wrapping around his waist. God, she was like liquid fire under him, her slender hands caressing his back, her fingers following the myriad of scars the whipping had left on his skin.

Bass slipped her shirt over her head and feasted his eyes on the skin bared before him, her breast heaving up and down with her labored breathing "Mine." He growled again and he licked and nipped a line from her neck down to the edge of her bra. She was rocking her hips into his and the friction was driving him nearly insane and he grunted when her hand cupped him through the rough fabric of his jeans "You're gonna be the death of me one day, Charlotte Matheson."

Charlie chuckled into his mouth and fisted her other hand in his hair, the feeling of her nails on his scalp exquisite. "Well, I did promise myself I would be the one to do you in." His reply was a rough kiss and his hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips.

Because he'd been so preoccupied with the woman in his arms he hadn't heard the rustling of leaves and the snapping of a twig. Bass kept kissing and touching the enticing woman under him. that is, until a throat was cleared. He slowly raised his head and relieved saw that Pete was leaning against a tree not far from them. "Enjoying the show?" Bass then realized that he'd taken off Charlie's shirt and she was lying there in her bra. Quickly he grabbed her shirt and draped it across her breasts "You're damn lucky I'm not in the position or state to be moving very quickly." He threatened darkly.

Slowly he got to his feet, his muscles and another part of his body protesting against the movement. His jeans were uncomfortably tight as his erection was still begging for freedom and Charlie. Bass reached out his hand and he pulled her to his feet "What do you need, Pete?" She asked and he could hear the irritation in her voice.

"The blonde one is looking for her daughter and Miles wants a word with you." Bass growled, fucking Rachel and he cock-blocking ways. "Be right there." Bass adjusted his jeans and noticed Pete was still smirking at them, brown eyes knowing. "Can I tell the blonde one?" Bass' eyes shot over to the other man and he noticed Charlie's did too. "Pretty please?" Pete mock-begged "When you guys decide to go public, please let me be the one to tell the mother, I would love to knock that ego down a peg... or fifteen." Pete smirked again.

Bass couldn't control a chuckle but Charlie was glaring at them both "I'm taking that as a 'no' then?" Pete asked when he caught Charlie;s glare. Another chuckle from the former General focused her attention back on Bass and Pete slipped back into the woods "My lips are sealed." He yelled before he was gone again.

Whoops, bit of a long one. Well since it's a Revolution night and there is no revolution I figuer we deserve a longer chapter tonight, right?

Close but no banana. Sorry, no sexy times in this chapter, there will be some in the fututre though, not to worry :D

Thank you guys for sticking with me still. I love seeing comments from people who have been commenting from the beginning and also seeing new people come in and leave their thoughts about my little 'brain fart' ;)

My muses are still going strong, thank goodness. Still no Revolution this week so as usual I'm updating extra because I need to keep busy, haha.

Again, if you guys have any story ideas you like me to work out (one shots or long fics) please drop me a line in my message inbox :D or my direct e-mail Willa_Marisa (it won't do the 'at' symbol) yahoo . com

Thanks for reading and don't be shy to leave a comment or review :D Always appreciated.

Love, Marisa