Charlie was numb. Putting one foot in front of the other, she tore herself away from Jason's body and stumbled out of the building. The light hit her hard. Everything was a dull faded buzzing sound and though she could see people scrambling and running her mind and body were disconnected. She couldn't run even if she wanted to.
Uncle Miles. He's here … somewhere.
Dizziness swam behind her eyes and she could literally feel the blood draining away from her face. It was like she injured herself when she killed Jason. A part of herself died and was never coming back.
Suddenly, a face was in front of her, shouting and waving a hand. Miles. His words came in slow motion but she couldn't understand. He grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him, jogging down the street in the same direction as everyone else.
Another bullet fired and then her brain snapped back into gear. Everything became clearer now. Miles pulled her down into the treeline, scanning his surroundings for something.
Monroe and Connor, she thought suddenly. Keep it together, Charlie, or you'll get someone else killed.
Two bodies slid down against the tree alongside them, breathing hard and heavy. Monroe was splattered with blood. Connor didn't look hurt, but he too had blood on him.
Charlie stared down at her own hands. They were clean in a general sense, but in her eyes they were dripping with blood. Jason's blood.
"Where's Nipples?"
Charlie just stared at her hands. She couldn't say the words 'I killed him', so she opted for a different way. "He's dead."
There was a mixture of shocked and uneasy silence for just a moment.
She gripped the gun that was nearest to her knee and shook herself back to life. "Some Patriot here knew his number and activated him. I couldn't snap him out of it." She blew out a breath and then looked up. "What's next?"
Miles looked as though he wanted to say something comforting, but then opted for his usual gruff manner. "We get the hell out of here." He half-crouched and gestured for them to follow. "Come on. The horses are this way."
Charlie shoved everything but running to her horse out of her mind. She couldn't deal with Jason's death right now. Or ever. She'd loved him, despite everything he'd done.
Why did I waste our last moments together being such a bitch? For that matter, why didn't I keep a closer eye on him? I could've stopped this. I could've saved him.
Her horse was up ahead and she mounted it without thought. Then she was galloping away, letting the wind rush over her face and calm her mind for just a little while.
Dinner was going to be nicer than usual. Gene had managed to swipe some fruit and vegetables from a friend in town, and Rachel had went out and caught some rabbits.
Charlie was distantly impressed. Rachel had actually paid attention to her hunting lessons.
Miles, Connor, and Monroe dismounted and started making their way inside the small building, but Charlie hung back. The thought of faking a smile and making small talk made her want to blow her brains out.
She felt so tired. Tired of life. When was it going to end already? She knew they were all going to die, or at least most of them, but why did it have to be so torturous in the meantime?
This feeling was not something she'd ever wanted to feel again. Not after Nora. Brave, beautiful, genius Nora who was so much more important than Charlie. And Jason who had saved her life more times than she could count.
Both dead, while she was still here. How was that fair?
"Charlie! Dinner," her mother called from a few feet away.
Charlie sighed and swallowed hard. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and gathered herself together, steeling her emotions into a small tight ball that she shoved down inside herself.
Don't think about how you left Jason's body in that strange building and you'll be fine.
Inside the house, she was actually surprised that with the extra people a lot of the spotlight was taken off her. They all sat around each other, sans table.
Charlie tuned out the small talk as she tried to eat her food. She had absolutely no appetite.
"Where's the Neville boy?"
Charlie froze mid-bite for a moment before forcing herself to act natural. People died. It happened. A flash of Jason's lifeless face crossed her mind and she closed her eyes.
It was Connor who answered. "He turned. Just like everyone knew he would. He's dead." His voice was full of scorn and pride for having predicted the outcome. And more than a little satisfied that some revenge had befallen the boy who had humiliated him in front of everyone. "Tried to kill Charlie."
That got her mom's attention. "He tried to kill you?"
Connor's flippant callous manner was slowly enraging Charlie. How dare he talk about Jason as if he knew him? She kept her eyes on her plate. "He was activated by someone at the gathering."
Miles shook his head. "It was a longshot anyway. Sooner or later those Patriot assholes would have gotten ahold of him and twisted his little brain around."
These words were physically painful to Charlie's heart. To hear Jason talked about this way was intolerable. Especially when Rachel chimed in.
"Well, his father is responsible for Ben's death," she said. "And he betrayed us more times than I can count. I'm sorry, Charlie. I know he was your friend, but maybe this is for the best."
Charlie's hand paused halfway between her plate and her mouth. For the best that she shot her ex-boyfriend in the heart? For the best that Jason had been kicked around his whole life by the one person he loved the most? She put her fork down on her plate. The room was spinning again.
When she spoke her voice was quiet as usual. "Everytime he ever lied to or betrayed me, it was because he loved his family. When you think about it that way, he was the most loyal person I've ever met." She glared at all of them. "And he was a better person than anyone here, that's for sure. He deserved better and all he got was shit, over and over."
Her temper rose higher and higher, but along with that guilt and sadness threatened as well. She stood up and grabbed her belt holding her knife and gun. Her chest was tight and she jerked away from a hand that Miles had reached out to grab her with. "Get off," she hissed, walking away from them.
Where was she going?
Somewhere I can be alone. Somewhere where no one will talk to me.
That turned out to be a place by the river, about half a mile away. There was a log that she usually sat on to sharpen her blade and do personal hygiene in the mornings. Now she sat on it, gripping the hilt of her large knife in both hands tightly, barely aware that she even had it.
She tried not to cry. Tried desperately, but the flood could not be damned. Her forehead rested against her clasped hands holding the knife, eyes closed, and tears pouring down her cheeks. Maybe she just needed a long hard cry to get everything out. This was the best place to do that-where no one could see or hear her weakness.
God, his eyes kept staring at her. Staring with a tortured accusing look in them that blamed her for not being there for him. It was her fault twice-fold that Jason was dead. What kind of person loved someone and didn't watch out for them?
Just like Danny. She'd let her guard down once and he'd been taken and her father had been killed.
And Nora … she should have fought her mother harder. Should have knocked her out and taken Nora to the infirmary herself.
Now that Jason was dead, it was clear-or at least, she could admit to herself just how much she'd loved Jason. How much his continual betrayal of her had hurt. But, also how much she felt for him, for the desire he'd had to finally gain his father's love and trust. Love and trust which never came, she was sure. He was like a kicked puppy who still ran back to his master when he called.
The tears began drying up, mostly from exhaustion. If someone walked up right now intent on killing her, she was pretty sure they would succeed. Sleep would feel nice right now.
The knife in her hands was heavy and she stared down at it. It would be so easy to just knick the vein in her wrists and bleed out, right here by the river. Going to sleep forever.
That end had to better than whatever one the Patriots had planned for her. Getting a hole in her chest or head … or stomach. Those deaths were less appealing right now.
And let's face it, she thought, my life is pretty worthless. My purpose is to kill. That's it. Miles has mom now. He doesn't need me anymore. Monroe and Connor have each other. Grandpa is probably going to die soon. What do I have? Who do I have?
No one and nothing.
Charlie wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do yet. Her usual bravery was gone. The desire to 'go out swinging' was gone, replaced by the desire to just have all this shit go away.
Jason's face flashed across her mind again, torturing her. It was like her own end was being shown to her. How was she any different from him? The things she'd done for Miles-just so he wouldn't leave her… She loved him. She did everything for him, just because he asked. To impress him so that he wouldn't feel like she was a waste of time.
It was just as pathetic as Jason's continual need for his father's approval. She knew it in her mind. She also knew she wouldn't change. There was a trajectory she was on that couldn't be altered.
A sudden awareness coupled with a the rustling of tree branches told her someone was coming. "If you're here to kill me, you should know that I have a really big knife." The chances that it was someone other than a family member coming to check on her were slim, but in her experience still to be expected.
"I'm not here to kill you," a familiar voice answered.
She scowled. "What do want, Monroe?" She could feel his eyes on her and was suddenly a little embarrassed by the situation. The knife was still gripped tightly in one hand.
"Just checking. You ran off. The Patriots are still around, you know."
"Why didn't Miles or my mom come? Why you?" She hadn't wanted them, but it was strange that Monroe was in their place.
He shrugged and walked closer to the water's edge, staring down at something in the water. "I told them to give me a shot first."
She had to admit, the disappointment that Miles wasn't the one to come here for her was bitter. Ever since we found Mom… "I'm fine. I just wanted to be alone." And just like that, the tears sprang to her eyes again. Monroe's eyes were on her again. "Yeah, I'm crying like a baby, Monroe. I don't freakin' care about your opinion."
Incredibly, he took a seat next to her on the log. Thankfully, it was a big log. "That's good, Charlie. I'm not here to make fun of you. Someone you cared about died. Only a heartless bastard wouldn't cry."
Charlie dug the butt of her knife into her forehead. "Why are you even here? Last I checked, you were pissed at me for screwing Connor." She gave an empty smirk. "I knew it would mess with you-irritate you. You aren't exactly the blank slate you think you are, Monroe."
Monroe stared at her, and she could see his mind whirring, mentally going through every possible explanation for her words.
She rolled her eyes. "Your pissed because you think I'm honing in on your new partner. That I'll somehow steal him away from you, like my mom stole Miles. Admit it."
Monroe's eyes widened barely a fraction before he gave a short laugh. "You're good, Charlie. I'm like an open book, I guess."
"You shouldn't have brought him here." The sudden realization that Connor bore some similarities to Jason made it difficult to breathe for just a second. But, where Jason was stone-cold in his duties and beliefs, Connor was soft. Easy living in Mexico had made him weak-too weak to survive this war.
But, then again, no one was going to survive anyway.
"He's my son." Monroe's voice didn't change, but there was some steel behind it. "He belongs with me."
"Whatever," she muttered, already deciding it was pointless to care. She was exhausted and slid down the log in order to prop herself against it and close her eyes. "God, sometimes I miss Nora. You know, when I first met Connor, I thought it would be cool. Finally, I thought, there's someone here that's close to my age." What a joke.
"Can I see your knife for a minute?"
Charlie opened her eyes and turned around. Monroe was holding a shitty orange and gestured to the metal glinting in her hand. She thought about it and then handed it over. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be handing over her weapons to Monroe.
She gave a small laugh. "You know, it would be pretty easy to knock me out and slit my wrists or something. With the right acting on your part, they would believe that you found me here bleeding out." She stared back at him. "I know you've thought about killing me-or my mom, especially lately." Rachel was being a pain in the ass about the cadets.
Monroe laughed and shook his head. "You are really messed up, you know that?" The blade sliced cleanly through the orange peel in the practiced movements of one who was well acquainted with knives. He could kill her right now and no one would know.
Charlie shrugged and turned back to stare at the water laid out in front of her. "It's true. Me or my mom's death would do it. Miles would be so pissed off-especially if it was her-and you'd have him right in your little pocket. If I were you I'd go with her though. He loves her more." It was more self-pity, and less desire to see her mother die by Monroe's hand that was prompting these statements.
"Miles loves you too."
"You know, sometimes I think I feel like you do. Like she took him away. It used to be just us, you know. But, the other part of me is happy that he has her because that means that he won't leave. And I can breathe again." Then a scowl marred her features. "And then I feel pissed off that I've done all this shit-horrible shit-for him, because he wanted me to and now it doesn't matter. He doesn't care anymore. I'm just some," don't say weapon, "tool to keep around and pull out when he needs an extra hand to kill someone." Where was all this coming from and why was she telling Monroe? She gave a laugh and turned around to face him. He looked sad. "And now I see you, sitting here, and I'm suddenly realizing that Miles is going to do whatever he's going to do and the rest of us are going to be chasing him down forever-forever being the next year or so. So, what's the point? I might as well do what I want." She settled back against the log, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Feelings were heavy.
Monroe cleared his throat. "Kid, I know where this all coming from. You love your uncle and your mom. You might not believe me, but over time, this kid's death won't be as painful. It'll still be there, but somehow, you won't think about it as much. It's better that way." He looked down at the ground. "You've had a tough go of it this past year. It's all coming down on you right now, but you can't lose focus, Charlie. You didn't kill Jason. The Patriots did. You set him free from the cage they put him in. He gave up everything because of his feelings for you, Charlie. His family, his allegiance to me… Sure he went back to Neville, but it was his father. A bond between father and son is not something that can be easily broken."
Charlie had to admit, way down deep inside, that his words did make her feel a little better. But, at the last line, she rolled her eyes. "You don't have to keep trying to stake your claim, Monroe. I'm not interested in breaking any bonds between you and Connor. I slept with him once," she snapped. "In Vegas. If I had known then that I would have to keep hearing about it over and over, I would have went to the bar instead."
"Don't give me that shit, Charlie." Monroe's tone wasn't angry. "You just admitted you screwed him on purpose because you knew it would annoy me. What, now you've changed your mind?"
"Maybe," she said shortly. "Maybe annoying you just isn't that much fun anymore."
"I think you're depressed, Charlie, and in shock. I know how you feel. I've lost everyone I've ever loved in my entire life. You probably don't think I'm capable of love, do you? I am. This," he said, gesturing at himself, "is just a result of that. It's necessary to be hard and ruthless in order to survive in this shithole world." He tossed the knife so that it stuck in the ground next to her leg. "So, either you gotta be that way and decide to live and get these Patriot bastards back for what they've done to the people you love, or else just kill yourself now."
Did he know what she'd been thinking of doing? Was she still thinking that way? She didn't pick up the knife. "I'll tell you what, Monroe. You followed me all this way to check up on me-make sure I don't do anything that doesn't fit into your little plan for world domination. I don't know what this is all about yet, but I will. In the meantime, you give me one good reason not to slit my own throat and I won't." She was just playing with him now. She'd already decided she didn't want to die.
Monroe didn't say anything and she goaded him. "Come on, Master of Manipulation. I want to see you at work-in your element." She gave him a snide smirk and tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to get pissed off and leave. "Nothing?"
"Charlie, I don't know what you're talking about. I've never manipulated you."
"Please," she said, cutting him off. "You manipulate everyone. You're an evil genius and probably the only one of us who's going to survive this mess. Keeping Rachel alive all those years was smart. Not only did you have the woman who turned the lights off at your disposal, but you had the only thing that Miles ever cared about. If you had killed her, we wouldn't be talking like this right now."
Monroe looked at her incredulously, and was there just a hint of fear? "You really have a shitstorm going on in there, don't you? As flattered as I am by your assessment of me being an evil genius, you're wrong. I didn't kill Rachel because she and I used to be friends-sort of. And yes, Miles loves her. He's loved her since before you were born. I'm not a monster, Charlie."
Charlie just gave him a look. "And what about Connor?"
He tensed. "What about him?"
"Telling him that you were going to get the Republic back was a big reason that he followed you back here, right? And with one other person on your side to help you with that goal, well, that's one more person that you had before, right?"
"What makes you think I want the Republic-okay, fine I do. What's wrong with that? If the Republic was around, these Patriot assholes wouldn't be here. With an army at our disposal we could crush them and take back our land."
Charlie brushed that aside. "Saving me so that I would bring you to Miles? Finding those wanted posters … I did just what you wanted me to do."
Monroe raised an eyebrow. "Well, you must have thought I was right on some level because you did bring me to Miles, and you talked your mom into saving my life, and you saved me again in New Vegas."
Charlie didn't like the way he ticked off the number of times she'd done things for him, and disliked him crouching down in front of her even less.
"You want me to give you a reason to live?" he asked quietly. "I'll do you better than that. I'll give you two. The first reason that you shouldn't slit your own throat is vengeance, pure and simple. People think that it doesn't solve anything, Charlie, but it does. It makes you feel so much better. And when you're choking the life out of the bastard that turned Jason Neville into a robot, forcing you to kill him in defense of yourself, you'll know I'm right."
Stupid tears pricked her eyes again.
"Second reason-friends and family. A lot of people died, Charlie. Your dad, brother, Nora, Jason. Most of them died for you, because they thought you were worth dying for. Are you going to end it now when you've accomplished nothing? Or are you going to do something with your life and make sure they didn't die in vain?"
They stared at each other and part of Charlie want to hit him for what he said. The other part realized he was right, and that she hadn't thought that way before. Now, she'd never be able to think any other way. People had died for her-because of her.
"Now," he continued, "are you done screwing with me? Let's go. Everyone will keep their mouths shut about the kid." He stood up and for some reason Charlie knew it would be childish to stay. She grabbed her knife and put it back in her belt.
"You know what everyone I love who's died has in common, Monroe? They all hated and tried to kill you."
Incredibly, Monroe grinned. "One step at a time, Charlotte. Pace yourself."
She scowled. He was back to calling her Charlotte. "I know you do that to annoy me."
He stopped, the same grin still on his face. "Well, it ain't screwing a close family member, but it'll have to do."
Touche, she thought with a resigned expression. "You never did anything when my mom was with you all those years? I find that hard to believe."
"She's not my type."
"But, it would have pissed Miles off," she reminded him.
"What's with this newfound hatred of Miles?"
She didn't hate her uncle. She couldn't. He was the coolest, most badass person she knew. Besides Monroe. The badass part anyway. Monroe wasn't that cool. "Nothing," she muttered. "I'm sick of talking about it."
"Oh, you mean the last five minutes of your life that you've actually opened up? Yeah, I can see why you'd be sick of talking. Can you shut up already? You're talking my ear off."
Unwillingly, she cracked a smile.
Without knowing it, they were back at camp. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying or that what they'd said had bothered her. "The way they were all talking about Jason before…" It wasn't right. His haunted face appeared in her mind, the way it had looked that last day he was himself, desperately wanting to make amends. "It's the worst part." She couldn't take it. It was like they were defaming his memory. "He might have betrayed me-a lot-but I never hated for him for it because I knew why he did it. For love."
Family hurt. Love hurt. She wished she could leave them, especially now when she felt raw.
But, she wouldn't.
"I think you're a secret romantic, Charlie."
She glanced quickly at him, making sure he wasn't making fun of her. He wasn't. She shrugged. "If you're going to do something awful that you can't live with, it might as well be for love." By that logic, she couldn't hold building the amplifier over her mom's head anymore. Choosing her kids over the world was a no-brainer to most people.
What would she have done in the same position? What if it had been Miles with a gun pointed at his head, or Danny? Would she have been so noble then?
Probably not.
Miles walked up to her and Monroe snuck off without her realizing it. "Where'd you go, kid? I was worried." He did look worried. His eyes took in everything about her face. Then he looked down, giving his signature careless shrug. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said. About Jason. As much as he irritated the shit out of me, I kinda liked him. He was brave and had a moral code that you just don't see anymore. At least, I don't. Except for you, I mean. I wish-" he stopped, unable to voice his wishes since they could never come to pass. "If you were going to be with anyone, I just wish-"
Charlie nodded tightly, and tears filled her eyes again. Why was she ever mad at him? Now she felt guilty. His face fell at her tears and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. This was what she needed. Ever since her dad died she hadn't had much of this. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "You know Miles, you would have made a good dad." She thought about Nora and her miscarriage. "Maybe one day I'll have a cousin?" She made a face. "Or a new sibling."
Miles gave a smirk and draped an arm around her shoulder as they walked toward a fire. Her mom and Grandpa were sitting there. "You never know, kid. Maybe one day when all this bullshit is over, you'll get your wish."
They both knew that day would never come, but it was nice to dream for just a moment.