Bass grew cold as he watched Tom's face. The news of Jason's death broke him. He'd never seen the man cry before, not even while telling them about Julia's death. But the emotions transitioning across his face now reminded Bass of a similar time after his own family died. After Shelley and the baby… After Miles left…

This wasn't good. When monsters felt things like pain and loss they tended to lash out in incredibly destructive ways, creating pain and loss for others. He should know. He'd spent over a decade making sure that everyone he came into contact with felt the same darkness he did.

He locked eyes with Charlie. She looked frozen in grief and fear.

Neville sank to his knees, wrapping a hand around her thoat from behind. "It's not true. Tell me it's not true." He squeezed so hard that she couldn't answer.

"That Patriots reactivated him, Tom," Miles started. "That part is true. They killed Jason, not Charlie. We've been getting revenge for his death. We just wiped out an entire camp filled with these bastards a few days ago."

Neville looked at Miles with a hatred Bass hadn't seen awhile. Not even from Rachel. His grip on Charlie lessened so that she could breathe at least. Tears ran down her face.

Bass held up a hand to try and get Neville's attention. "Tom, just put down the gun and we can go right now into Willoughby and kill them all. I've been dying to do that, but Miles here has a soft spot for the people-thinks there might be collateral damage." He laughed dismissively.

Neville wiped his face and exhaled loudly.

"I'm sorry, Neville, but get Charlie up and let's move. This whole scene is touching, but we have a plan, remember?" Connor dug his gun into the back of Miles' head until he winced. "And it doesn't involve keeping this asshole alive."

"What are you doing, Connor? You guys are working together, I assume?" Bass asked, swaying a little on his feet. He watched Miles' face for any sort of coming action that might give him the upper hand in saving Charlie. So far he had nothing.

"We've been dicking around this dumpster-fire town for too long. Taking orders from this jerkoff and his psycho bitch. You guys come to my town and ruin my life and then bring me here?" Connor laughed incredulously, shaking his head. "I didn't sign on for this. Get on your knees, Miles."

Miles locked eyes with Bass. Then he slowly sank down, first on one knee with a wince, then the other. "Kill me, that's fine. Just don't hurt, Charlie."

"Miles," Charlie said in strangled voice.

He looked over at her, a small smile curving his lips. "It's been fun, kid. I know I never said it, but … I love you. Try not to do anything completely stupid when I'm gone. And keep an eye on your mom."

Charlie shook her head. "No, you can't."

"Are you done yet?" Connor asked in a bored voice.

Bass stared at Miles, wide-eyed and stunned. He was talking like he was actually going to die. He was saying his damn goodbyes. "No, Miles, what are you saying? We'll find a way-"

Miles looked at him right then with a nasty glare. "And you, Bass. I'll be waiting in hell to kick your ass. Just like in Richmond."

Richmond? He hadn't kicked his ass in Richmond. Oh. Yeah. That. Bass stared at him, blood draining away. Not that one, Miles. Come on, the kid's just misguided. I can talk him down. Bass raised his eyes to his son. "Connor, I'm sorry. I messed up. Let's go. Right now. Me and you, Neville too, if you want."

Connor looked at him with thinly veiled disgust. "Oh, now you wanna leave? When I have a gun to your boyfriend's head? Do you think I'm stupid?" Then he flashed a grin over at Charlie. "Besides I'm taking that one with me. Neville can torture her or whatever, but I have my own plans for her. Living with the cartel-I learned a lot of things. Did a lot of things. There's a reason women down there don't talk back." He bent down to speak right in Miles' ear, "Do you know what someone will do for a hit once you get them hooked on heroin? All kinds of things. Sick things." His lips curved in a nasty smile.

Miles didn't react, simply raised an eyebrow at Bass as if to say 'He's gotta die'.

Bass blinked at the vicious tone in his son's voice. "Connor, Charlie didn't do anything to you. It was me, okay? You were right. I lied before, big surprise. I lie a lot. You can find another girl."

Connor straightened quickly and yelled, "I don't want another girl! I want her! I'll make her-"

Miles acted quickly but Bass had been watching. When Miles' turned to disarm Connor, Bass let the knife that he'd palmed when Neville had shot him earlier slide down into his hand and in one smooth motion he flung it at Neville. Charlie ducked. It embedded in Neville's throat and before he could aim his gun at Charlie she turned and disarmed him. Neville bled out in the dirt still looking at Charlie with a burning hatred. Then he was dead.

Connor was on the ground, unconscious. Miles stood over him, gun pointed directly at his face, a cold expression on his own. Bass helped Charlie up and then turned to Miles.

"Miles…"

His friend shot him a look. "You heard him. He's gotta go. I don't care if he's your kid."

Bass hands started shaking. "I know."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know?"

Bass wiped his mouth and then winced. "Fuck." He'd forgotten the bullet that had grazed his cheek and ear. "I know, Miles. I heard what he said. He's got … problems." That was putting it mildly. The things Connor implied he would do to Charlie made his blood run cold. And he had been about to kill Miles, his brother. And he'd betrayed them all and sided with Neville. Fucking kid.

Charlie put a hand on Miles' arm. "You don't have to kill him, Miles. We'll tie him up in the middle of camp where everyone can keep an eye on him. Grandpa has drugs we can knock him out with if we need to."

Bass and Miles stared at her in shock. Bass hadn't counted on having someone on his side when he started begging for Connor's life.

Miles snapped at her, "I'm not having this conversation with you. You don't understand what he was saying."

"I was there at Drexel's remember? I know what he was saying. I remember what those girls looked like. What they put up with. But Connor is my problem. I was careless with him." She looked down at her once and never again lover and shook her head. "I made a mistake."

Miles took a deep breath through his nose, his patience running extremely thin. "Charlie, we can't watch him all the time. He will get free one day and he will come after you. And hell, me too apparently. What then? Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

She looked at him quietly. "My mom told me that she's going to kill Bass one day very soon. By your logic, he should put a bullet in her head before that happens. Right?"

Miles looked at Bass, his lips compressing into a thin white line, before relaxing. "If you touch Rachel-"

"I won't. I swear." Bass took a step backwards when he started to sway again. "I won't kill her. Not even if I wake up in the middle of the night and she has a knife to my throat."

Miles shook his head, lowering the gun ever so slightly. "Charlie, why are you doing this? Why do you give a shit about this asshole? I don't get it."

She stared at him and then shrugged. "I don't give a shit about him."

Had Bass heard correctly? Was she saying…?

She shifted her stance and grew a little impatient. "We need Bass to win this war, right? I think if you kill his son he'll be a little distracted, don't you?"

Miles stared at her for a long time, and then lowered the gun slowly. Bass breathed out a sigh of relief and felt a horrible pain in his side. Damn, had he punctured a lung or something? Then Miles raised the gun and pointed it right at Bass' head.

"About him… I saw you guys before Neville came. What was that about?" His voice was deadly calm, and he didn't look at Bass, only Charlie, probably because he was afraid if he looked at him he'd pull the trigger. "What, so… you guys are a thing now?"

Lights started dancing in front of Bass' eyes.

"No."

Bass frowned and glanced at Charlie. Of course they weren't an actual thing. It was just sex, but she answered pretty fast.

Miles shook the gun toward Bass, and he winced. "So, what then? Why exactly would you let this asshole put his hands on you? Him, of all people."

Bass wanted to say something to defend her, but he also had a feeling that he should let Charlie do the talking.

"Miles, we're all going to die soon," she choked out. "It could've easily been today. All of us," she spun a finger in the air, "almost just died. What does it matter what I do and who I do it with?"

Not the most flattering thing a woman had ever said about sleeping with him, but if kept Miles from killing him he'd take it. His vision swam. "Guys…"

"Shut up," Miles snapped. To Charlie, he said, "I know all about masking pain and fear with sex. Alcohol too. I practically wrote the book. And you know what? With anyone else, I'd say go for it. But not him. I know you, Charlie, and I know him, and you will get hurt. There's not even a doubt in my mind."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not, but you never listen."

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "I wonder who I get that from?"

Bass suddenly saw Miles go a little pale and knew then that what he suspected was true. Miles was Charlie's dad. How messed up was that?

"What do you mean?"

"My mom. She never listens either, and you don't seem to have a problem with her."

Connor stirred on the ground and Miles' instantly went back to aiming at him. Bass felt dizzy again. "Miles, I'd never hurt Charlie. I never have. I'd take a bullet for her."

Miles and Charlie looked at him, and then sky turned upside down, and everything faded to black. Last thing he heard was Miles muttering something about hating him and then felt Charlie's hands at his chest, lifting his shirt up.

XXXXX

"Shit, we need, Gene," Miles muttered, seeing the garish dark purple splotchy bruise over part of Bass' ribs. "It might be internal bleeding."

"This is all my fault," Charlie whispered, covering her mouth with one hand.

"Charlie, snap out of it. Go get Gene, now!" Miles ordered.

She nodded and sprang to her feet, taking off in a sprint as fast as she could back to camp. Before she'd even gone a hundred feet, her mom appeared holding a gun and looking unconcerned. "Charlie, where've you been? I though I heard a gun go off earlier." Her eyes widened when she saw Charlie's bloody face.

Charlie grabbed her mom's hand. "It was Neville. We need Grampa."

Rachel sucked in a breath. "Miles?"

"No. Bass."

Rachel's eyes narrowed, but she bit her bottom lip.

Charlie shook her hand a little. "I know you hate him, and I know there's good reasons, but he saved my life when Neville tried to shoot me, and now he's dying. We need Grampa. Go!"

Rachel made a decision, and then nodded. She turned and ran off. Charlie jogged back to Bass and Miles, sinking to her knees. "Mom's getting him. She heard gunfire. I think she thought you killed Bass. How's he doing?"

Miles shook his head. "I think his lung is punctured. There's not enough oxygen getting through." Then he switched gears. "Charlie, if he dies this is not your fault. You hooked up with a guy. A couple guys and it didn't work out. This isn't your fault anymore than Jason was. The Jason I knew would've rather died than hurt you. The guy you killed wasn't him."

"I know," she whispered, checking over the slash on Bass' cheek. It needed stitches. "But I still can't forgive myself."

"Is that why you're doing this?" Miles swallowed hard and gestured at Bass. "Him, I mean? Punishing yourself?"

"No. I don't know. I don't think so."

"He's old enough to be your father, Charlie." Miles stumbled a little over the last few words. "I've known him since we were kids. He's selfish and arrogant and a womanizing drunk, not to mention a killer."

"I know."

Miles sighed. Connor moaned behind him and he turned and punched him in the face. He fell silent once more. Then Miles made a face. "God, Charlie, I never want to see you kissing him again. The two of you? No. It was disgusting. I almost puked."

"I'm sorry." She was quiet for a moment and then looked at him. "I've just been such a mess lately, you know? Since Danny and Nora… I miss them so much." Her voice broke on the last word, but she reigned it in. "And Jason just put me over the edge and then he was there, and I don't know." Her voice trembled with repressed anguish. Tears filled her eyes. "It's the only thing I've got right now, Miles. The only time I feel anything other than how much I hate myself, and how much I miss them. All of them. My dad…" She lost it and started crying. Miles didn't know what to do so he did the only thing he could.

He hugged her.

She cried in his arms while he smoothed her hair back. God, it broke his damn heart whenever she cried. It wasn't often, not anymore. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. I'll do better, I promise." In the distance he saw Rachel and Gene running toward them fast. He didn't let Charlie go.

Rachel got there first, sliding down onto her knees beside them. "What's wrong? Is Bass…?" Miles shook his head. She glanced over at Neville's body. "Neville?"

"That one's dead. He found out about Jason and came after Charlie."

She looked Connor. "What about him?"

Miles sighed and reluctantly pulled away from Charlie. Gene needed room to work. "He teamed up with Neville."

Her eyes widened. "He's dead, right?"

He gestured at Charlie. "This one made a case for keeping him prisoner instead. And we are going to call a truce, understand?" He eyed Rachel hard. "We aren't going to kill Connor and Bass isn't going to kill you and you're not going to kill him. We are going to get through this, and we're going to beat these sons of bitches, and we are going to do it as a team."

"Miles-"

"Rachel, I swear to God, I'm not joking."

She gestured at Bass and Charlie. "What about them? I'm just supposed to pretend-"

"We'll talk later. I promise." He looked at her in a way that made her nod and stay quiet. "For now, Gene, is he going to make it?"

"A broken rib punctured his lung. It's filling up with blood. I've got to drain it. Rachel, grab me some tubing and cut a piece about five inches off."

She rolled her eyes and then moved to obey. She cut the tube and handed it to her dad.

"I need to sterilize his chest before I cut in. Anyone got any whiskey?" He looked directly at Miles who handed it over.

"I'm not the only one who drinks around here, you know?" he mumbled.

Charlie let out a nervous giggle and then covered her mouth. Her hands were shaking with adrenaline and nerves.

Gene doused the side of Bass' chest with the whiskey, and then carefully made a deep incision. Bass spasmed and Rachel held him down, a bit too hard in Miles opinion but what the hell? She wasn't actively trying to kill him, and Bass did defile their daughter. He deserved it. Gene worked the tube into the hole he'd created and then blood started draining out. A lot of it. That was not a good sign.

"I've got to open him up. Reset that rib. It's risky out here. Infection." Gene looked around at all of them for confirmation of what he was about to do.

"We've got no choice. If we carry him out of here, that bone is going to do more damage. Just do the best you can," Miles said.

Gene nodded and poured more whiskey over his hands. Then he poked and prodded until he felt whatever it was he was trying to find and quickly cut Bass open. He reached inside and then smiled. "Thank God. It's not broken. I can pull it back into place." He grimaced with effort. "Get it out of his lung." He sat back after a few moments of strain. "Rachel, get me a needle and thread."

She already had it made up and held her hand out to him. He smiled and doused it with whiskey. Miles had the decency not to grumble about wasted whiskey. Gene sewed carefully and quickly.

"Bandages."

Rachel dug around and found a few packages. "It's a good thing you brought this stuff with you, Charlie. From the camp?" She smiled a little and Charlie nodded. Peace offering for now.

Once Bass was bandaged, Miles grabbed Bass under the arms and Rachel and Gene took a leg. "Charlie, keep that gun on Connor no matter what. If he wakes up and moves, shoot him. Understand?"

She nodded and took a seat on a rock a few feet away from Connor's prone form. She watched him quietly, Miles' rifle trained on him the entire time.

XXXXX

Miles zip-tied Connor's wrists and ankles and then tied him to a tree in the middle of camp with lots of rope and fancy knots. He smiled with satisfaction and then stood up. "Bastard, shoves a gun at my head," he muttered, shaking his head. He looked to the side where Charlie stood. "You know we're going to have to kill him eventually, right?"

She nodded and looked at him. "Yeah, I know. But not today." She stared down at the guy she used to think was so cute. Cute enough to bang outside New Vegas while on a mission. How could she have messed up so bad? Chosen so wrongly?

She turned away and wiped her face. "I'm going to go clean up and then get a drink."

Miles didn't say anything as she walked away, and she was grateful. She needed silence for awhile to just be in her thoughts. No need to bring up anything they'd talked about before.

Later on, when she was cleaner and had swiped a flask of moonshine from one of Duncan's men (she really had to start learning their names), she quietly snuck into the med tent. Her Grampa was somewhere else. She dragged a box over to Bass' cot and sat down next to him. He was so pale and still.

"I can't believe you did that today. You almost died and for what? Me?" She shook her head and opened the flask. She swallowed a mouthful and grimaced. God, it was bad. "You scared the shit out of me."

She glanced down at his hand and slowly slid her own inside. It was warm which was a good sign. His fingers flexed.

"Charlie?" he rasped out.

She leaned forward. "You're awake." She smiled and squeezed his hand a little harder. "Let me go get my Grampa."

"Wait." He swallowed hard and then slowly opened his eyes. "What happened?"

"Neville punctured your lung. You were drowning in your own blood. Grampa saved you."

"Sounds … badass," he rasped.

She smiled and shook her head. "Then you'll love your face. There's a three inch scar going across your cheekbone. And a piece is missing from the top of your ear."

His eyes fluttered shut and he smiled weakly.

"Don't worry. Women love a good facial scar. They'll be lining up."

He opened his eyes. Did he narrow them at her? His lips moved but she couldn't hear.

"Hold on." She scooted forward to lean down closer. "I can't hear you."

"I said, Shut up, Charlie."

She frowned at him. "Rude," she muttered. He didn't even look sorry. "Listen, remember when I said that what we had was just sex? There were no feelings, no commitments, nothing? And that we had to stop?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I just tell you to shut up?"

She leveled a glare at him. "I will not shut up, Bass. You took a bullet to the face today. You should've just shot him."

"So you're fine with a bullet to head? I'll remember that. Some people say thank you. What is this, number eight?"

She took another shaky swig of the moonshine, and then wiped her eyes. "I'm being serious. What were you thinking?"

His icy blue eyes bored into her, pinning her in her seat. He motioned with a finger for the flask.

"You're not supposed to be drinking," she protested, but did what he wanted anyway. She put the bottle up to his lips and tilted it down. He drank and did it without making a face. Years of practice, she assumed.

"Where's Connor?"

She glanced over. "Outside, tied up. Alive."

His throat worked as he swallowed again. "Why didn't you let Miles kill him? After what he did? What he was planning on doing?" His eyes closed briefly.

Charlie had no answer. She couldn't put into words why she did it and certainly not to him. She took another swig from the flask and then looked at him. Valiantly, she kept a straight face. Then she had an idea and leaned down close to him. "Bass? Shut up."