Epilogue

Twenty years later

Bass walks to the small table near the window. A tray, glasses of fine glass that belonged to the family for as long as he can remember. He pours himself a drink, realises he is his dad's age when they had to say goodbye. He sees him, smiles. Grieve has moved back and prevents him no longer of missing them with a heavy heart but still honour their lives. Gail Monroe. William Monroe. Angela Monroe. Claire Monroe.

On this day, a special summer day, he expects them in his memories.

It is a normal Saturday afternoon, but nothing is normal about this. Because his family will be here.

Nothing is normal about family.

Family is ever all that is.

They were here. He makes sure people remember their names.

Bass looks out of the window. The small town life is just as ever, a gentle reminder that live moves on. Even without Emma, who died in a tragic accident on the town square. A gun accident gone horribly wrong. Bass has been there, as he said goodbye to his child's mother in piece. Even without others, but new children and foks come here. Grieve turned into softer grieve. Grieve turned into a house that never left the family. It is their home for the summer, where it is Charlie that works in the city as a communication strategist and he still trains new Marines, to keep the peace everywhere where needed. Home is where they are together. Softer grieve turned into remembering.

Into being something you never thought you could be. Fulfilled. A parent. A best friend. A lover. A brother.

Connor, he is bringing home some wild girl. He looks firm. Already gave him the whole speech about maybe trying to choose another girl.

He looks with tensed jaws. Whiskey glass in his hands.

Well, he is just like his dad. The little photo of a young Connor with his arms wrapped around Rose and Oliver, two brothers, one sister, as she is the highlight in the picture with two proud smiles. Nor Charlie, or Oliver or Rose, have ever not made Connor right at home.

Charlie walks into the house. She is magnificent at forty. She looks at Bass. Broad back, feet straight in the living room with that whiskey glass that never leaves his right hand. She can picture him like that, everywhere.

Charlie moves behind Bass. He grins at her. Rose is in college, his boy Oliver away with friends before he will follow his sister there.

Charlie playfully moves her fingers under his shirt. He smells like whiskey, and the leather jacket he picked up somewhere on a road trip with Connor.

'I just wish the kid would bring home somebody else.'

'Yeah, because you never ever had a wild girl before, right?' Charlie says, a smile in her voice.

'I used to know this guy. This though Marine, black leather jacket, abs to die for.' Charlie says, licking her lips.

'Hey, you watch yourself. ' He growls. He is fine with her teasing with a little reference to him, but he does not need a reminder of the men she has been with before. And somehow the corner of his mind always fabricates a couple there. That Neville punk, engraved in his mind like in a damn report, who married a girl his mom had picked out of some catalogue of perfection. Fucking guy with his white teeth. And then some other guy at bars. He might be an adult now, or whatever the fuck that means, but it still gives him one hell of a mood and he does not like the idea of other guys touching her in the history of ever.

But then Bass grins. He still has the jacket, and dammit, he still fits it. Thinking of the things Charlie likes to do to him as he likes to do to her in the bedroom, where he needs to stay fit for. The kitchen, bathroom or couch are damn fine with him too.

To remind her of who much she is his, always and never changing, he presses a long passionate kiss on her lips as he presses his cock against her belly. The whiskey glass is downed as he moves the glass away, his fingers now playing with the jeans wrapped around the inside of her thighs, of her body he has his eye locks on and since well, the history of forever.

Charlie laughs. Smug basterd. She won't make it too easy.

To tease him she presses her knee up and into the vicinity of his balls a little harder than she has to.

'Hey, you watch it again,' he mutters in her air, dark control with rough voice that makes her wet, too wet, already for him.

'Aaand it is still a joy to find you with my niece every damn time.' Miles sighs, as he walks into the kitchen.

'You ever heard of knocking?'

'You ever heard of not putting your tongue in my niece's mouth.'

'Dickhead.'

A stern glare as Bass watches Miles.

'Moron.'

'Your kid here yet?'

Charlie looks at Miles. It is good to see him, smiling again. She knows the marriage was over for a long time. She also knows Miles and her mom, they probably had to give it a shot. It wasn't pretty. She knew that. But she is not one to judge, she also speaks her mind. But she is loving. Open hearted.

Charlie laughs as they hear a car.

'There he is.'

A young man gets out of the car. Black jeans, dark belt, shirt, buttons, scruff on his jaw, dark curls. All attitude, all pure arrogance in the eyes every now and then but also all goodhearted. Maybe he is like that, he is a Mini Monroe. Charlie once made that reference but she learned quickly men don't like when the name 'mini' is used with any reference to their manliness. It earned her a fast look from Connor, a poke in the ribs from him and a wonderful smile afterwards.

Next to him is a twenty two year old girl. Al blazing attitude, big smile and dark blonde curls in the wind. He throws an arm around her. She looks open and strong. Charlie likes her immediately although she knows Bass' concern about his son settling down with someone. She knows Connor will do eventually, but not now. He is like Bass when he was younger, needs to live, feel, date, smile that Monroe smile of his. And then, he will find that woman. Bass did. And she is happy to be there every day.

'Charlie!' Connor smiles at her. Introducing the blond next to him as Corin.

'Kid!' Bass sais in low welcome as he throws an arm around his kid as he goes through the curls of his son. He still loves it. Connor still hates it. Or maybe not, he is a Monroe after all. They are all tough and strong, but behind that hard exterior lays a gentle heart and loyalty.

They have dinner outside. Of course then the fire is made. The fire he taught Rose and his son to roast marshmallows, as Connor played endless hero stories with his action figures. They managed to come through together. As Miles is telling stories to Connor and both men drink beer. They did managed to come through together. Their little group always did.

He watches the buzzing in the garden.

And then he hears welcome noise in the living room. He turns.

She smiles, that warm wide generous smile of hers, that life never managed to change. Thank god it didn't.

Rose presses a kiss on Charlie's cheek. 'Hey mom.' She drops her bags.

'Turned out, one can need a little break from college.'

Charlie knows she loves both her parents, but Rose and Bass, it is a strong connection. Father and daughter. Girl and strong caring father. It makes her heart stronger.

And then, she turns to affectionate fatherly eyes.

And then strong large arms are circled around her. He grins, takes her in, that sweet scent that he knew from the start. Because she is his girl.

'Baby girl,' he whispers generously in her ear, 'it is good to have you home.'

'Daddy,' she says, as Rose gives Bass a hug. A long affectionate one, the one that makes her burry her nose against his chest as he pulls her close.

Oliver will be home later, right now he is much like his dad. Away, flirting, enjoying life. Bass wishes nothing more for him. He will probably crash in later, drinking a beer with the guys as he pulls an arm over his son's shoulder.

He smiles that amazing grin of his.

Home.

Charlie reciprocates. As she is still the fire that he makes loves to, or sometimes it is just a quick stimulating fuck or adventure in the garden. They do it all, with love, with respect, with eyes that need the other.

Home.

And then, Connor sees her, smiles warmly as he hugs Rose. And Rose hugs him. As it is a laughter warm smile in the garden. Somewhere around them other people, dear people smile with them. Bass just knows.

A lot of hey's. Miles hugs her too. 'hey kiddo.'

'Uncle Miles.' She smiles back.

Charlie. His children. Miles. Ben. Danny. Connor. Once Emma, the mother of his child. His parents, William, Gail, Angela Monroe, Claire Monroe. Them all. There, richness in people.

And then he walks out on the porch.

'They are here, you know.' Charlie says.

She looks up at Bass. As she stands close to his tall everthere muscles, and she stands leaned up against his side.

He just nods. He knows.

He stand there, with her next to her.

Charlie stands there, next to him.

As he realises this is his home, his people, his family. The people they love always travelling with them through time.

As they are by his side, as much as she is with his, and he is by her side.

He turns around one more time before they head out to join the others, the fire warm, the night clear.

Bass looks around the house as he sees the faces of pictures that tell the story of generations, Rose's first step, Charlie laughing with birthday cake on her nose. His son, his youngest showing where his first tooth had fallen out. Connor graduating from high school on the same steps he once stood with Miles. Miles himself, as he toasts into the camera with a laughing Charlie behind him. Danny and Charlie, where Charlie has a protective arm around her, both still kids, innocent at life, the fire of a sister and the warm admiration of a brother already there. That one where Ben smiles at her, pride in his eyes, his daughter close, her hair against his chin.

'Love you.' He mutters into her ear.

'Love you.' She says, confident, without the unnecessary sentiment that is not them.

They are strong, they are also jaded, but they are there for the other. Their love, their bound is like a light in a world without.

And there, on the wall, as Bass feels Charlie, watches her and his family, as Charlie feels warm strong arms around here, with the wood of the porch as strong and well painted as ever, something Bass still does for his mother, all sweet people there, in his garden, There on the wall, that one with him with his arms around her and she grabs his underarms firmly.

The way how they were when they were young, the way it always will be.

Note: The moment with Bass and Rose, was a little nudge to the moment with Charlie and her dad. I loved writing grown up Rose, and the warm kind, but still strong and plenty of ego Bass. A change to let him be there with a baby girl he never got to see in the normal universe of Revolution.

This story was about love, life and family. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing this. A new chance to look at them, with timelines crossing.

My notebook is still filled with ideas, and most of all, stories I wanted to find an answer to. A new start, publishing soon.

With gratitude for you all,

Love from Love