So, it was between this fic or my other Revolution fic and I picked this one to expand. Not committing to anything yet since I have a couple other stories I'm already in for blood and soul. Haha, just kidding. I am swamped though and cannot reliably update, BUT it won't stop me for sporadically updating. :)

I'm going to try and tone down the angst in this chapter, but still, my Charlie that I like is an introverted one. Not a loudmouth chick who always wants to fight. That's just how I like her. BUT in the show she does get into with Monroe a bit so I'll try and balance it.

Charlie is definitely depressed in this fic, and if anyone has seen Buffy, I'm sort of taking inspiration from Season 6, I believe, where she comes back from the dead and starts banging Spike after awhile just feel something. I'm taking a more romantic (maybe) turn on it, but the inspiration is still there. ALSO, I'm going to be just making things up willy-nilly according to what I want, so this might not follow the rest of season 2. Like, I hate the Patriots, and Neville, and the Nano. Super hate the Nano. Def killing Neville first chance I get. Getting rid of everything else, also, eventually. I'M BURNING IT DOWN! enjoy

Charlie wasn't able to sleep for long. Sometime around five in the morning, she woke up and went downstairs to make some coffee. Monroe was the only one awake, sitting at the kitchen table, already drinking some.

She mentally cursed him for being an insomniac. After last night, the last thing she wanted was to face him after blubbering like a baby. She turned red when she remembered she had basically considered killing herself. He'd known it too.

Without making eye contact, she went to the cabinet and pulled out a mug.

"There's some more in the thermos," Monroe's hoarse voice sounded behind her.

She silently took the thermos and poured a cup only halfway at first. Weren't they almost out? Rachel would have to make a strip to town soon for more supplies. If they had to wage war on the former American government, she'd perform a helluva lot better with caffeine. Selfishly, she topped off the mug and put the thermos back on the counter.

Sitting at the table with Monroe was out of the question, so she did what she normally did in these situations and took her coffee to the darkened living room, adjacent to the kitchen. She always sat in the chair by the fireplace, right across from the window that faced the direction of Willoughby. If anyone came from that direction she would see them.

Well, in theory, she'd hear them first. It was still too dark to see anything.

She took a sip and grudgingly realized that Monroe really made good coffee. She didn't like it when he did things … good.

"There's sugar if you want," he said from his place in the kitchen.

Great. Now because of last night he thought they were friends. She swallowed her annoyance. "I drink it black."

"Me too."

"I know," she said sharply. God, they'd been around each other for weeks now. She knew how he took his damn coffee.

"Oh? I'm flattered."

He was trying to rile her up. He had to be. Otherwise, he'd just sit there and shut the hell up, she thought. But she couldn't not rise to the bait. He couldn't think she paid special attention to his drinking habits.

She expelled a breath. "Miles takes his with milk and sugar. Mom likes her with just milk. Grandpa drinks his black. Connor hates coffee and prefers milk in the mornings."

Monroe cracked a smile and nodded, holding a hand up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright I get it." Then he gave a small smile as he took a drink of his coffee and she realized he had done that on purpose to annoy her.

How childish.

"Do you know how to fight, Charlie?" he asked casually.

She looked at him in confusion. She literally fought people all the time. How could he ask that?

He glanced at her face and saw her confusion. "I mean, has Miles ever trained you in hand-to-hand combat?"

"Why do you want to know that?" She was always suspicious whenever he showed too much interest in something. It was usually not good.

"Been thinking." He finished off his coffee and set the mug down quietly.

"Why?"

He turned in his chair and put a hand on his outside leg. The other he rested on the corner of the table. "What if someone comes at you and you don't have a weapon? You shoot good and you can handle a knife, but what about if you don't have one?"

She rolled his eyes. "I can handle myself, Monroe."

"Knowing how to take someone down without killing them is a useful thing to know. All I'm saying."

"Shit, Bass. What the hell are you bringing that up for?" Miles snapped, coming down the stairs looking cranky as usual. "Leave her alone. She's fine."

Monroe shrugged and let it go, but Charlie didn't stop thinking about what he said. He'd obviously been talking about what had happened with Jason? Had there been something she could've done to save his life?

She watched as Miles went down to the basement to get the milk from the hole they'd dug in the ground to keep cold stuff cold. You always had to smell it first, and it wasn't fool proof, but they'd had luck with some perishable stuff.

A sudden urge to rebel blossomed inside her and she sat back in her chair, staring at her coffee cup and thinking about what Monroe had said. She was interested. Was it because she knew it would piss off Miles?

Probably.

But not all.

Who was Miles to make decisions for her anyway? He wasn't her dad.

She got up and went to the kitchen. Monroe's eyes watched her as she swallowed the rest of her coffee and put the mug in the sink. Miles came up from the basement and grunted a hello to her and then went about making his own coffee.

"How you doing, kid?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Good. I'm taking your mom into town today to get more supplies. You need anything?"

"No. Isn't that dangerous? Won't someone see you?"

"Not if I'm careful." He took his cup and sat down at the table across from his former best friend.

"Why do you have to take her? Can't she go by herself?"

"I've got business there. Might be someone willing to spy on the Patriots for us."

"Who?" Monroe asked sharply, his full attention directed at Miles.

Miles snorted. "Like I'd tell you."

"It could be a trap," she warned.

Miles gave her a long-suffering look. "I know that, Charlie, but it's a risk we have to take. Your mom is going to hit up her contact and while she's doing that I'm going to take a look at this potential spy. See if he's legit."

"Why can't I come?" She tried hard not to sound whiny, but the last thing she wanted to do was stay home all day and think of Jason.

Miles eyed her critically, up and down. "No."

She looked affronted. "And why not?"

"You had a … big day yesterday. You need to rest and take some time to process-"

"Are you for real?" she interrupted.

He must have sensed her change in mood was not for the better, and stood up taking his mug with him. "You're not going. That's final." Then he walked back upstairs and she heard his door shut. Well, it was actually her mom's door, but they were sharing a room now, among other things. She stared after him, clenching her jaw.

What an enormous ass.

"Why were you asking me all that stuff about fighting?" she asked suddenly.

Monroe shrugged. "I know some stuff."

She swivelled her head to look at him. "Like, you mean, you want to teach me things?"

He answered slowly. "If you wanted to, I could-"

"Sure," she answered. "Sounds like fun. When do we start?"

"Miles won't like it."

She knew a challenge when she heard one. "Do you care?"

"Not really."

"Me neither."

He nodded. "Okay. We can start while Rachel and Miles are in town."

"Good. Maybe you could teach me how to punch Miles in the face." Charlie got up from the table and went outside the back way to cool off before everyone else woke up.

XXXXX

"Let me see you throw a punch."

Charlie eyed Monroe and looked determinedly at the target: the right hand he was holding up, open faced. She landed a blow square in the center of his palm.

"Okay, now with your other fist."

She obeyed, which was a strange feeling. Doing what Monroe told her to do.

He lowered his eyes to her feet and circled her critically. "Widen your stance. Move your left leg a bit in front of your right and turn your body. There." He walked back around and stood in front of her, raising his hands again. The day was already hot and sweat was beginning to tinge his shirt collar. "Hit me again."

This time, she was surprised to feel the difference. Her punch was more forceful than before. Maybe he did know what he was talking about.

"Good. Again."

He made her practice for an hour, until she couldn't lift her arms anymore. Everytime she messed up her stance, he stopped and corrected her. She thought he would be a horrible teacher, mean and snide, but he wasn't. Strange.

"Are we done yet? It's been an hour. I'm dying."

Monroe lowered his hands and rolled his shoulders. "You can take a five minute break and then we switch."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What, you mean you're going to punch me?"

"I'm going to teach to block a punch," he corrected. "Go get water."

Oh god, what had she gotten herself into? And she couldn't quit. Hell no, he'd think she was weak. But getting punched over and over by Monroe was not something she was looking forward to.

Five minutes passed like seconds and then she was back in front of Monroe. She pulled back her hair into a ponytail to cool off the back of her neck and then stretched a bit.

"Alright, let me see how you would normally block a punch to the face without any training."

Charlie put her hands up but she'd never really thought about it before. When people were trying to hit her, she just reacted. Monroe raised his arms and jabbed at her face with his right fist. She managed to duck backwards and avoid being caught.

"Good, but that move will eventually land you in the dirt. Stand how I showed you. Use your body to absorb the blow and block it." He moved toward her and positioned her arms the way he wanted. Then he kicked her left foot a bit in front of her right one. "Stay like that always."

She did as she was told and went to hit her again. This time she settled her weight on her right leg and kept her hands up in front of her face. Monroe's punch glanced off her forearm instead of her cheekbone.

An hour later, her arms were banged up and she was exhausted. Connor had taken a seat under the shade tree a half hour earlier with an apple and just watched them. She had the annoying feeling he was laughing at her every time Monroe almost put her in the dirt. Probably upset by what had happened the night before.

Now he'd decided to saunter over and do more than just watch. He started by pointing things out she was doing wrong, then graduated to giving his dad pointers. Monroe took it all instride and Charlie ignored him.

"You're not even using your full strength," he complained to Monroe.

Monroe swung at her using his left hand this time and Charlie effectively dodged and moved to the side, forcing Monroe to change his position also. She'd known he wasn't using his full strength. She'd felt his full strength before and was grateful, although she'd never let him know that.

"This is just practice," Monroe said evenly, keeping his eyes trained on the girl in front of him. "Connor, don't you have something to do? Like somewhere else?"

"No." He made a face and crossed his arms over his chest. "There's nothing to do in this craphole."

This craphole is my grandpa's house, she wanted to say, but continued to ignore him.

"You should stick to knives," he said, with more than a little malice in his tone.

That was it. Charlie put her hands down and looked at him. "Okay, tough guy, why don't you show me how much better than me you are."

Connor grinned. "What do I get when I win?"

She made a face. "My respect. You ready?"

Monroe stepped quietly aside to watch. "Remember your stance, Charlie. Hands up."

She remembered. Part of her realized that while she was exhausted, Connor had been relaxing all morning and was as fresh as a daisy. But she'd been damned if she'd let him win. "What are the rules?"

He took off his shirt and tossed it aside. She wondered if he'd done that to show off. She didn't care. "First one to knock the other one in the dirt wins."

"Okay," she said evenly.

"Only punches," he added.

"Fine."

He grinned, obviously thinking he'd already won. She did everything Monroe had been showing her all morning. Her stance was great. Connor wasted no time lunging at her, forcing her back. She realized Monroe had been holding back a lot. He came at her full force, hitting her hard across her left cheekbone. She stumbled, clutching her face as pain exploded everywhere.

He wanted to hurt her, she realized, straightening up and narrowing her eyes.

He shrugged with a snotty smile. "Sorry."

He wasn't sorry. "I've been hit harder," she taunted, whipping up her arms to block his incoming blows. Her face was fine, but he managed to get her right in the ribs. She refused to cry out though. But maybe if he thought he hurt her…

She hunched over for a long moment and sniffed as if she was crying. She felt him come close.

"I didn't hit you that hard, did I?"

Before he realized what she was doing, she swung her fist and hit him hard across the face causing him to stumble backwards and almost fall.

"You bitch!" he hissed, wiping some blood off a gash beside his left eyebrow.

She widened her eyes in innocence. "I didn't hit you that hard, did I?"

Now he came at her full force and it was all she could do to block him. Only punches, she remembered desperately wanting to kick his legs out from under him, but also wanting to win.

"Alright, enough!"

She heard Monroe but Connor either didn't or refused to listen. She was thinking of her next move when Connor was suddenly yanked backwards. She saw Monroe holding him by the back of his neck.

"I said enough."

"We weren't finished," Connor protested.

"I'm finishing it. I've got better things to do than stand in the sun all day watching your pissing contest. Go cool off," he ordered.

Connor shot her a dirty look and then stomped away. Charlie winced as she touched her ribs.

Monroe laughed which surprised her. She'd thought he was angry. "You did a pretty good job," he admitted, tossing her canteen of water.

She glared at him.

"No, really. You blocked almost everything he threw at you. You're a fast learner, Charlie."

She took a long drink from the canteen and then screwed the cap back on. "Thanks," she muttered.

Just then, she spotted Rachel and Miles walking up. They both saw Monroe and her and started walking over.

Miles looked between them. "What's going on?"

"Did you hit her?" Rachel asked.

"We're just sparring," Monroe answered.

"I wanted to." Charlie wished she didn't feel the need to explain herself, but she didn't want another fight. She also didn't want to tell them it was actually Connor who'd hit her.

Miles and Rachel looked at her in surprise and then looked at each other.

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"Why would you want to … do whatever it is you're doing with him?" Rachel asked.

Charlie shrugged. "I was bored. Can you stop making it such a big deal?"

"A big deal? Honey, you're bleeding!"

Charlie dodged her hand. "Stop it, I'm fine. Did you get any food? I'm starving." And then she walked away, back to the house, smiling a little. The last couple hours had been fun.

XXXXX

She didn't know why, but after dinner she walked off again, to the same spot she'd went to after Jason died. She needed to be alone without her mom always watching her and she especially didn't want to be around Connor.

But guess who showed up anyway?

"What do you want?" she asked, turning to see Connor step out from behind a tree. He came closer.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean to go at you like that."

She shrugged. "I'm fine."

He came even closer, this time sitting down next to her on her log. "I'm still sorry. I … guess I have a temper."

She just really wanted him to leave. "We're good. Seriously. You can go now."

"Come on, Charlie." He touched her cheek and she turned her head to look at him. "I've missed you."

Then she realized what he was doing here. "Are you for real? You want sex?"

"You don't?"

No, was on the tip of her tongue, but she considered it for a moment. Did she? Connor was good for relieving tension. He took her hesitation as a Yes and leaned in to kiss her.

He wasn't a bad kisser, she admitted, slowly kissing him back, wanting to lose herself for a just a little while. He wasn't even bad in bed. The senoritas down south must've been good teachers.

But then she remembered how he'd talked about Jason, and the look in his eyes as he came at her earlier today. He'd wanted to physically hurt her. There was also a myriad of other things that she just didn't like about him.

If she slept with him now, it would mean she'd lost absolutely all self-respect. And she hadn't.

She broke away. "No, I don't want to."

"What? Why?"

"I just don't want to."

"What's your problem?" he asked angrily. "Is it that guy?"

"It has nothing to do with Jason. I'm tired."

He tried to persuade her by kissing her neck, but she pushed him away. "Go away," she said more firm. "I'm not in the mood."

"Fine," he snapped and jumped up. "You know, you're not the only girl around."

She snorted. "You could give my mom a try, but I think Miles might kill you."

He gritted his teeth. "I mean in town. There plenty of girls there who'd love a chance with me."

"Yeah, go find one of them." She was so done with him.

"Connor, you there?"

They both turned toward the voice and saw Monroe. "What?" Connor snapped.

"Gotta talk to you about something. In private." He motioned his thumb back toward the house.

Connor looked between him and Charlie and then stomped off angrily. Monroe didn't leave right away.

"Did you follow me?" she asked suspiciously.

He gave a humorless smile. "Not you."

What did that mean? He'd followed Connor? Why?

"Don't worry," she said drily. "I didn't touch him." Would never touch him again, actually.

"Yeah, I noticed. Kid's pretty angsty."

"That's one word for it," she muttered, breaking up a twig and tossing the pieces absently.

Monroe turned to leave, but she suddenly needed to know something. "Hey."

He turned back.

"What's your problem with me?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

She gestured with her hand. "You act like your precious son will catch the plague if he's around me too long. Why?" She was genuinely curious.

He considered his answer for a few seconds. "It's just not a good idea."

"Why not?" He was uncomfortable, she realized, and now really wanted to know.

"Say it doesn't work out. What do you think Miles would do? Or your mom?"

"Who cares?"

"I do."

She stared at him. "No. That's not it. At least not all of it."

He moved closer to her. "Why do you care about my opinion so bad?"

"I like to know things. And a tiny part of me thinks-and I know this is insane-but thinks that you might think I'm not good enough for him, or something. Which is laughable."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That's not it."

"That what is?"

He rolled his tongue around his mouth and then nodded. "Okay, Charlie, you win. You wanna know why I don't want the two of you together?"

"Yeah."

"Here it is. He's my son. The son I didn't even know that I had until a few weeks ago. I want things for him, things you can't give."

She frowned. "Like what, a Republic?" she half-mocked.

"No, like a family. A peaceful existence. A normal life."

She wasn't sure she heard him right. "Why do you think I don't want those things too?"

"So, after we kick the Patriot's out, you're just going to … what?" He gestured at her. "Put down your guns and your knives and go play Susie Homemaker? Pop out a five or six kids, have dinner on the table by six every night?" He snorted.

She blinked. Then jabbed a finger into his chest. "No, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Monroe. After we kick the Patriot's out, I'm going to help Miles crush your dreams of becoming an evil overlord again. That's what you're planning, right?"

"Better the devil you know," he shrugged.

She sneered up at him. "You finally admit you're the Devil."

"I wouldn't be too sure about Miles, if I were you," Monroe said, voice calm as usual. "He's got Rachel on his shoulder playing the angel for now, but don't forget, Charlie. He's the one who started the Monroe Republic. Everyone seems to forget that."

She moved even closer to him. "You know what I think, Monroe?" She dropped her voice. "I think that the real reason you don't want me with your son is because you know I'll take him away from you. I'll persuade him he's crazy to follow you. That he's better off with me."

Now she saw anger glinting in his eyes and a muscle in his jaw ticked. Lightening fast, he grabbed the finger that was jabbing into his chest and cranked it hard. She gasped in pain and he spun her around, pushing her hard against the base of the nearest tree. Her arm twisted behind her back.

"Let me go," she told him, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

"Stop moving or I'll break your arm," he warned, pressing the side of his body against hers to hold her in place.

"Screw you."

Despite what he'd said about breaking her arm, he did loosen his grip a fraction so that she wasn't in pain, just uncomfortable.

"That mouth," he said, and she felt his breath on her neck. "You can go days without saying anything, then when you finally talk you just…" He snorted and shook his head.

"Let go of me," she gritted out.

"No," he said, pressing harder against her so that her cheek dug into the tree. "You think I'm the Devil and yet the way you speak to me says otherwise." He cocked his head to look at the side of her very angry face. "Show a little more respect, Charlie."

She should be scared, but wasn't. Not really. Her heart was thudding against her ribcage hard. She was sure he could hear. "I can't show what I don't have."

He chuckled and moved so just the barest amount of space was between them. Then he turned her around and shoved her backwards, hard, so that her back hit the rough bark.

"You think you can beat some respect into me?" she asked, breathless from adrenaline. "Here's an idea. Let go of me … and I won't tell Miles." She gave a sickly sweet smile.

He looked over her face and said, "Always running to Miles. Tell me, after he marries your mom and they ride off into the sunset-you gonna follow them?"

Now it was her turn to get pissed off. "They're my family."

"Yeah, but I mean, your mom had spend all those years pretending to love your dad. Then the Blackout happened and she spent all those years as my prisoner with Miles thinking she was dead. You don't think they're gonna want a little alone time?"

What he said was all true and things she'd told herself a million times. After the Patriots were gone, they'd leave her to start their own lives somewhere else. Somewhere nice.

She looked up at him. His face was very close. "Well … what are you going to do without Miles? You've spent your whole life chasing him."

He was just messing around with her before, trying to shake her up a little. But his eyes darted down to her mouth and then everything changed. Charlie was very aware of every inch of skin that was pressed together. Her shirt had ridden up a bit and she could feel the fabric from his shirt pressed against her stomach. And underneath that shirt…

What the hell was she thinking?

"I need him to win against the Patriots. After that, he can do what he wants," Monroe said, taking a step back. He looked a bit wary now and she wondered if he knew that for a split second she'd thought about … things.

Wow, she was really screwed up.

Before she could slip away, his arm came down and blocked her exit. "Don't even think about turning my son against me," he warned.

She knocked his arm away and then pushed him back. He let himself be moved. "Stay away from me."

As she walked away, he called, "So … we still on for tomorrow?"

She almost laughed. He still wanted to train her in hand-to-hand? She shrugged and kept walking. "Maybe."