November 2019- Seven Years After the Blackout
"Well, you were just buckets of help in that meeting." Bass commented as the door to his office shut behind the last captain. Miles stared coldly at him across the conference table but said nothing. He shook his head slightly and stood up, collecting the groups of papers in front of him. "Alright, I know you're not the most talkative, especially this early in the morning, but what crawled up your ass?"
"Nothing. Just- long night, that's all." he muttered. He could feel his fingers twitching, fighting the urge to punch his best friend square in the face. Why not? He should have. He could do it without disrespecting Nora's wishes. He didn't have to give a reason. How many times had they randomly attacked each other growing up? "I'll see you."
He was at the door, hesitating at grabbing the knob, and felt Bass staring him down. Slowly, Miles turned to face him.
"You should go away for a few days. Take a break."
"I'm fine."
"Didn't seem like it just then."
"Maybe you should have stepped in and helped." Bass retorted, causing Miles to scrub his hands over his face in exasperation. He was so tired of this- tired of Bass make rash decisions, accusing him of being indifferent when nothing he said was going to change his mind, of falling further into darkness.
The tension between them never dissipated. It would hide when Bass became clear thinking for a night or two but then Monroe would wake up and the tension was back. Maybe if you took control of the situation, he wouldn't be like this. Maybe if you shook him hard enough, he would snap out of this.
"Instead, you sat there sulking and I had to do the work. What is with you? Why has it been impossible for you to make any sort of rational decision lately?"
"Because none of the options benefit anyone. We have to choose between the lesser of two evils. I don't want to make that decision, knowing someone is going to get hurt either way."
"Well, tough shit, General. This whole thing was your idea. Man up and take responsibility for it. You always made the hard decisions and didn't give a shit who it affected."
"Things change."
"Like what?"
"Like we're causing more problems than we're solving. This isn't working anymore."
"It's not working because we've become inferior. It's a rough patch. We'll get through it. It's like the beginning again. We need to make hard decisions but in the end, it'll benefit everyone. Isn't that what you said?" his blue eyes stared widely into his brown ones, probing and dragging up another layer of guilt from his best friend. "I'm doing what you always did."
Miles shook his head slightly, unable to handle Bass at the moment. He hated, absolutely hated, when he did this- playing the picture of the innocent, unable to make his own decisions, always the follower, never the leader. He shouldn't have been surprised. Bass did this plenty when they were children, allowing Miles to be the scapegoat and Miles accepting it because in some way, shape, or form he had coerced Bass into doing whatever misdeed he had done.
People believed it. Bass was the epitome of innocence with his wide, blue eyes, and blonde curls like some cherub out of a painting. He was charming, talkative, always smiling. Then there was Miles, lurking in the corner like he didn't belong, with his sullen, dark eyes and dark hair in his face. Not rude or mean, just self conscious, never sure what to say in large groups of people. Ben had once described Bass as a golden retriever and Miles as a cat. Never trust the quiet one, a teacher had said seriously once. Miles had wanted to retort never trust the loud one, he's the distraction.
They were both individuals though, both perfectly capable of making their own decisions- despite what other people believed. Miles was not some mustache twirling villain, prodding Bass in the wrong direction. Sometimes, but not all the time. You prod. You pushed him to this point. He wasn't forced, he didn't need to let Miles take control. Bass is the golden retriever- happy to do whatever to gain love and affection. That wasn't what happened though. Never did Miles ask him to conscript kids, never did Miles ask to attack defenseless cities. The past year had proved that. Bass was his own, separate entity but he was the smiley, pretty president and Miles was the gruff general everyone saw most. Who else were they going to blame? You're the one to blame. You planted the seeds for this. Look at how he's grown.
"Go away for a few days."
"I don't have time to go away. Besides, I like it here just fine. Thanksgiving is coming. We'll have a big dinner."
Yeah, Thanksgiving. You, me, Nora, and Rachel all gathered around a table. Throw in Jeremy and Mia, we'll be all set. Nora will be so pleased.
"You need a break every once in a while. Or you're going to wear yourself out."
"Or maybe I'm just not weak like you are, Mr. I-Need-To-Leave-At-Least-Once-A-Year."
"A vacation doesn't make you weak and if you think you're going to bully me into feeling bad about going away with my wife, you're dead wrong. Fuck you, Bass. Seriously. I'm looking out for you. I'm worried about you."
"You're worried about me? Start pulling your weight around here again then. We went into this as a team, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." the bitterness was building up within him and Miles knew he needed to leave fast before he retaliated with his knowledge about Nora. "Oh, by the way, thanks for Mia."
"What?"
"The bounty hunting training. Nice job. Really. Nora and I appreciate you respecting our wishes. It's okay though, I took care of it."
"Took care of it."
"Yeah, she's agreed that bounty hunting really isn't in the cards for her."
"Really?"
"Yep. Don't know what you thought the end result would be there but again, nice job."
"Screw you. She came to me. I didn't force her into-"
"It doesn't matter. You stupid asshole, you knew Nora didn't want her to do with anything in the Militia and you still let it happen."
"I don't see why I'm getting blamed for this. What makes her so special?"
"She's my family! She's a kid for Christ's sake."
"So? Tom Neville just enlisted his kid. None of the other officers are holding back their kids. Since when do you care about Mia anyway? Never known you to give her more than a second glance, if that. Don't call her family."
"Like it or not, she's my sister-in-law. Yeah, I'm not the greatest towards her but I have Nora to consider. She didn't want her involved and you went behind our backs. That's why you're getting blamed. Are you seriously that stupid?"
"Like I told Nora when she came to cry about it-"
"Don't talk about her like that."
"Like I told her, Mia is an adult in the eyes of the Republic. I was not under any legal obligation to get permission or reveal her intentions."
"And what about your obligation as a friend?"
"I'm not getting involved in their twisted family problems."
"You could have told me. I would have handled it."
"You would have said no?"
"Damn right I would say no. I put my foot down immediately when I found out. What part of Nora is my wife and I'll do whatever it takes to make her happy did you not understand? She was a wreck yesterday when she found out."
"Nora may be your wife but you're also the General of this Militia. How is it going to look when the people begin to find out that you're not abiding by the same rules as everyone else? We have an image to uphold. That was the real end result for me. But, you're right. You're the General. If you don't want someone fighting, if you think your family is more important, then by all means make whatever decisions you need to. I am looking out for the interests of the Republic."
"Since when did you start diminishing the importance of family? You're the biggest sap I know."
Bass's face darkened and there was a glint of something in his eye that Miles couldn't quite decipher. Since I don't have one anymore.
"Since when do you let Nora make the decisions?" he retorted, attempting to avoid the matter at hand. His response only elicited an eye roll from Miles, who was close to the end of his patience.
"Dude, I know your and Rachel's relationship is fucked up but when you get to be at our level, you'll understand that it's give and take. It took me a long time to figure that out and I'm man enough to admit that I'm not willing to lose my wife over my ineptness any longer. I came real close to that before. I'm not doing it again- over anything. Mia is not some piece of propaganda or the key to winning popularity with the people. It doesn't make a difference what she does."
"Well, good for you. I'm glad you're morphing into some domesticated bastard. While you're busy being Barbie and Ken, I'm going to keep at it with the Republic."
"Have fun with that."
"Yeah, I will. Hey," Bass called out as Miles started to open the door, "if you keep deciding to take a back seat approach because you don't want to get your hands dirty or you don't want to hurt Nora's feelings or whatever asinine reason you come up with, just know that I'm going to do whatever I need to to make sure I keep a hold on our country. I'll take lead on this."
"Do what you have to."
"Alright, just making sure we're clear."
"Crystal." the door slammed loudly behind Miles and did nothing to release any of the tension in the room. Bass curled his fingers tightly around his glass and forced himself to take a sip. It would calm him down and it would also prevent him from chucking the glass at the door. He hadn't planned on any of this. He had thought Miles would snap out his funk and business would continue as usual.
His eyes narrowed at the thought of Nora and her sister. She thought Miles solved the problem. Probably had wept in gratitude, believed it was all taken care of. He warned her though that it wouldn't matter. He just needed to bide his time a little, let the drama from the past couple days die down. He took a deep breath, then another sip, and walked to sit down at his desk. He needed to work out a new plan.