Charlie quietly walked along in the woods with only occasional moonlight to guide her. She enjoyed these peaceful moments. Before the incident with Neville, she would have just enjoyed the time to herself, but now she appreciated the beauty and sounds of nature and how the time alone allowed her to self-reflect and maybe daydream a little. Her musings were interrupted by…him. She sensed him before she saw or heard him, though. Eventually, she did spy him, sitting near a tree. And if she didn't know better, she could have sworn he was crying. Crying like a little boy who had been the only one not invited to a birthday party and left alone to wonder why. He wasn't crying, of course, but he was bothered by something.

He was startled by her, which pretty much confirmed her suspicions because Sebastian Monroe does not startle. He should have looked relieved that it was just her, not some Patriot or some other enemy, but he looked like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What do you need, Charlotte?" Monroe asked her, wearily.

"Nothing...I was just going for a walk."

Apparently not in the mood for conversation, he just nodded with the expectation of her moving on. No conversation was something Charlie anticipated from him. But the lack of snark or rude comment was out of character. Though she generally didn't care, it was a little disconcerting to see him so withdrawn and contemplative. She began to walk away, but reconsidered. She walked back and sat down next to him, but still he didn't speak. She waited for him. She expected him to tell her to get the hell out of there and to leave him alone, but still he said nothing. Finally she gave up on him saying anything.

"What's wrong?" she quietly asked.

She heard him sigh and could see him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. "No, Charlie. I'm not going to open up to you so you can turn around and throw it back in my face and mock me. I'm not in the mood for that."

She was about to argue with him, but realized he was right. Everything in their limited past indicated that that is exactly what she would do. She was still going to argue with him about it though, but when she turned to do just that she was taken aback by the utter sadness on his face, even on his profile…the look of betrayal, of hurt.

"Did something happen with Connor?"

Bass turned to look at her and for the first time she could tell that he had been crying or at least had had tears in his eyes. He was about to reiterate his hesitance, but her sincerity caught him off guard and he shook his head, causing a tear to become dislodged and travel down a cheek. He quickly wiped it away while Charlie pretended not to notice. "No. Not Connor. Your uncle. He played me. Him and your mom, actually. You'd think by now it wouldn't bother me, you know? He and I haven't really been friends in so long…" he drifted off. "I've done absolutely horrifically unforgivable things to thousands…hundreds of thousands...of people. You'd think getting played would just roll off my back."

He paused and became quiet, in deep thought, as if reliving the betrayal yet again. It was obvious he was outwardly trying to act as though whatever happened wasn't bothering that much. It was just as obvious that inwardly he was devastated…more so than Charlie had seen him before. She even thought this was beyond Monroe finding out that Miles had hidden Connor from him. Monroe felt betrayed by that, but that was angry betrayed. This was something different. This was a hurt, a wounded, betrayal.

He lifted his head and rested the back of it against the tree and took in a deep breath. The pain was still there on his face, among his whole body. Without thought, Charlie reached down and grabbed his hand.

"What happened?"

And with those two words, Monroe lost it. The tears streamed down his face and he couldn't form any words. He tried to push her away, which only made her pull him closer. The man responsible for the death of her father and brother-at least tangentially-and she couldn't help but comfort him. Eventually, he got to a place where he could talk. He embarrassingly apologized for being weak, but it had just been so long since someone had showed him any amount of concern for how he was feeling about anything and having that come at a time when he was just feeling so damned lost and alone…

He explained how Miles had acted like he had finally agreed with him on getting the Mustard Gas and that he thought they were finally fighting together…but it was all a lie. It wasn't just a lie, it was a con. Charlie admitted that she knew that the plan was to get the gas to show Marion and not use it, but she didn't know about the blatant deception towards him. He finally admitted to her that he felt like Miles had thrown him away like a piece of trash. It reminded him of the night Miles tried to assassinate him, but it was almost worse. That night he just felt confused. Tonight, he felt like a fool.

After a while the talking died down and they just laid there in comfortable silence. It was like she was taking her walk earlier…she was enjoying the peace of nature at night. Monroe was drifting in and out of sleep. It wasn't terribly late, but he was obviously exhausted from the emotional turmoil he had gone through. She stared up at the night sky as she listened to him quietly breathe as he slept, feeling his breath on her neck. She should be completely uncomfortable with him sleeping so close, curled up right beside her, far too intimately, but this gentle, sensitive Monroe wasn't bad and she found herself enjoying his close proximity, his arm and leg draped over her in a possessive manner, though she had no idea when that happened. As if on cue, the gentle, sensitive Monroe pulled her a little closer.

"Thank you, Charlotte," he whispered.

"For what?" she whispered back.

"For listening. For not mocking me. For staying here with me." He sighed a little a pulled her even closer still. "I know you won't stay long with me, but please stay a little while longer."

"I will."

He smiled, nodded slightly, and went back to sleep. Charlie went back to looking at the stars and then started to shiver a little. She hoped Monroe wasn't planning on sleeping out here tonight since the temperature was dropping and it didn't look like he had any supplies with him. She'd heard that he and Connor had cleared from the set of cabins they had all holed up in since the gas attack. Maybe she could convince him to use one of the outer cabins. She slowly started to get up and immediately Monroe was awake and looking at her…almost with a look of being kicked in the gut. He looked as if he were about to say something, but then seemed resigned to the situation and began to roll over to go back to sleep.

"I was getting cold." Charlie got back down on her knees and leaned over to speak into his ear. "I was thinking maybe we could break into one of the cabins on outskirts of the grounds. We won't have the stars above us, but we will have a stove and a bed and blankets." She could tell he was thinking about it.

He didn't roll over to face her, but replied, "Miles made it very clear that my services were no longer needed, desired, nor welcomed. I think I'll just stay out here."

Charlie thought about it. She was not a fan of this self-pity version of Monroe, but she also couldn't help feel for him in a way. She thought she'd try a little levity. "I'll take my top off."

Monroe's eyes popped open and rolled over to stare at her before he realized that she was just teasing him. But if she cared enough to joke around with him, he could at least make an effort. And Miles and Rachel were on one side of the grounds. They could stick to the other side. And if truth be told, he was getting cold and he didn't even have a light blanket. He finally agreed and they made their way to the cabins, making sure to steer clear of any of the other Mathesons.

"So just the top or does that include the bra, too?" He asked with a serious expression. It took Charlie a moment to realize that now he was just messing with her, too.

The fire in the stove was stoked and the heating the cabin to a comfortable temperature. If Miles or Rachel looked in this direction, they'd probably notice the smoke and come to investigate, but both Charlie and Monroe were sufficiently tired enough to not care. They both crawled onto the mattress and pulled the covers up. Charlie yawned hard, making Monroe smile a little. Earlier in the evening, he didn't think he would ever feel like smiling again. "Good night Charlie. And thanks again for making me feel less worthless." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He began to pull back when she reached and pulled him back and kissed him on the lips.

The kiss was tentative at first and fell somewhere between affectionately chaste and seductively heated. Charlie sat up and grabbed the hem of her shirt and began to pull it up.

"No, Charlie. Don't." Bass sat up to stop her. From the look on his face, though, he wanted her to do anything but stop. He looked at her and searched for the right words. "I haven't had someone consider my feelings for so long. I don't want to ruin it by me turning it into something less…I don't want to cheapen it. You're worth more." Though he was trying to put emotional distance between them, he couldn't help but stroke her cheek while saying this.

Charlie nodded and sat back. She looked at him thoughtfully. "I understand." She gave him a soft smile. "Now take your shirt off."

Shocked, Monroe found himself unbuttoning his outer shirt and obeying Charlie's command before he realized it. Now shirtless, he looked up to find that she had taken off her top, though she had left her bra on.

Charlie sat up on her knees to match him and leaned towards him and embraced him. Like most things this evening, this action had more of an affectionate quality to it rather than a sexual one, though there was an underlying heat to it. He sighed and soaked in the contentment he felt from her effort.

Eventually, they made their way back to laying on the bed, but sleep alluded them.

They began talking about nothing and everything, all the while holding each other, rubbing lazy circles on each other, placing light, chaste and caring, but desperately needed kisses on each other. Eventually Bass broached the subject that had been bothering him all evening. "Why are you here Charlie? After everything I've done…after all the pain I've ended up causing you. After all the plans you've learned that I have in motion…why did you even care?"

Charlie rolled on to her back while she tried to answer that question because to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure she could verbalize it. "Things changed for me after I had to kill Jason. More to the point, after his dad found out. When Neville had pulled that trigger and I thought I was going to die…it all changed. I was done ignoring life while I waited to die."

Bass had heard the story. He had been disturbed that Charlie had come so close to dying, especially considering that she had been by herself while he and Rachel were off traipsing around looking for Miles at the time. She could take care of herself sure, but sometimes someone needed to have her back, and that someone used to be him. He felt like he failed her that day.

She continued, "Never again was I going to let things slide since 'we were all going to die anyway'. So, when I saw you, I couldn't just walk away." She hesitated a little, then looked directly at him. "Plus, at one time, we had started to, I don't know, get closer. We'd fight alongside each other. We had a better…I don't know what the right term was…working relationship? I felt maybe a little nostalgic for that connection, I guess." She looked away and at the ceiling. "When you came back from Mexico, it's like you had changed back. It's like our time traveling to Willoughby or fighting together when we first got here, or when I asked my mom to do something to get you out of being executed…it's like none of that had happened."

Bass looked at her and saw a tinge of loss on her face. It was faint, but he could recognize it anywhere. It was exactly what he had been feeling earlier. He hadn't thought about it before, but he had abandoned her. Sure it was for his son, but he still had abandoned her. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I did change, and not for the better."

Suddenly, Charlie sat up and grabbed at her clothes. Bass sighed. While he said he didn't want to cheapen all that had happened this evening, he was thoroughly enjoying having a half-naked Charlotte Matheson in bed with him, even it was just to talk to. He was so lost in thought that he failed to notice that the shirt she had grabbed and put on wasn't hers, but his over shirt, and that once she did, she took off her jeans. It was the movement of the removal of those jeans, as well as that of her bra, that finally got his attention.

"I wanted to get comfortable," Charlie explained with a shrug as she crawled back into bed.

He spooned up behind her and reiterated his desire not to cheapen this evening, but that she was making it more and more difficult. He just didn't want to seem like he was taking advantage of her. What she said next nearly shocked the hell out of him.

"Bass, I've been trying to take advantage of you all night. And you've been making it very hard." She then wriggled her bottom against his groin, and sighed. "Or not…and not in the good way." She turned around to face him. "Honestly, at one time I really thought that maybe you were attracted to me. Stupid, I guess. Or conceited. It's just sometimes the way you would…" She was cut off by his mouth crashing down on hers.

The gentle and chaste kisses of earlier gave way to ones on an entirely different plane. Charlie led at first, simply to reassure Monroe that there was no advantage-taking or moment-cheapening. She was definitely embracing her new-found appreciation for life. He had quickly undone the buttons of the shirt Charlie wore, but she insisted on keeping it on. He didn't mind one bit. He remembered, pre-blackout, how sexy it was to see a woman in one of his shirts. He was pleasantly surprised to note that in a post-blackout world, this had not changed.

Bass began making his way down her throat and enjoyed the purring and sighing sounds he was eliciting from her. He couldn't help but smile. He lingered a while longer sucking on her throat, enjoying the feel of her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest. He laced his fingers in hers and raised her hands wide above her head as he moved a little farther south to her collar bone.

So preoccupied were the two, neither heard the door open. They both heard the guns cock.

"What the hell is going on here, you son of a bitch? Is this your way of showing me you've changed? Or is this your way of proving you haven't? You're pathetic, you know that?" Miles was beyond livid.

In that moment, all the reassurances and support that Charlie had provided to Bass all evening had gone out the window. In that moment, she saw him turn into that self-loathing, self-hating, piece of trash that Miles threw away early that night. It broke her heart. Where did the self-assured President Monroe go? Did Miles have any idea how much influence he had over his friend's self-worth? Did Miles' treatment of Bass have a greater influence on how President Monroe turned out than anyone ever realized? Sure, Monroe isn't an innocent in all of that, but neither is Miles. She is sure of that, now that she's seen exactly how sensitive Sebastian Monroe can be.

Though Miles was more than happy to verbalize his thoughts, Rachel just stood silent, her shotgun trained on Bass.

Charlie got up, after having buttoned up Bass' shirt, and placed herself between her mom's gun and Bass, just to be safe. "Miles, what are you doing here?"

"We saw smoke coming from one of the cabins and needed to check it out. What did he promise you Charlie? That we'd lose if we didn't take him back? That only he could come up with the winning plan and that…"

"I brought him here!"

"What? Where was he? Where were the two of…?"

BANG!

Charlie had been distracted arguing with Miles, she hadn't noticed that her mother had repositioned herself. She stared at her mother, smoke rising from the end of her gun. She looked back to the bed and saw Bass half lying off the side of it.

"Bass!" Charlie lunged down to where he was. She looked back at her mother to see Miles taking the shotgun away from her. "What did you do mom?" But Rachel just stood there in silence. Charlie turned her attention back to Bass. She could hear Miles ushering her mom out of the cabin. She could hear their steps fade off into the distance.

That's when she noticed…there should have been more blood. Although she didn't notice her mother getting a better shot, Monroe did, and managed to mostly get out of the way when Rachel took her shot. His left side and arm still got peppered with buck shot, leaving him bloodied and in pain. But he was very much alive. Charlie was doing the best she could to help him, but she wasn't a doctor.

Bass laid there in silence. At first she thought it was simply from the pain, but then she realized…he was betrayed by her mom and Miles yet again. Her mom truly tried to kill him, and Miles abandoned him when he was in pain and bleeding…in favor of Rachel. He was reeling and there just weren't any words.

"Bass, I'm having trouble getting the bleeding to stop. It's not a massive amount, but I'm not sure what to do." She didn't want to panic. His life wasn't in imminent danger, but his wounds needed to get treated. She hoped her grandfather would help, even if it was Monroe. She would have to get him situated, then get dressed and then hope he would be OK alone for the time it took her to go find her grandfather and then convince him to help. She was still trying to work it out when the chain link door opened and Miles and her grandfather rushed in. Immediately, Gene started looking over Bass' wounds and Miles started talking to him.

"Hey Bass. How're you doing? You hangin' in there?" Miles tried to sound upbeat, which sounded funny coming from him. Charlie could see the change in Bass immediately. She knew that look on his face in an instant. It's that "you came back" look she was familiar with, though she usually felt it not saw it on someone else.

Bass was actually a good patient and didn't fuss much as Gene worked on getting the buckshot out and patching him up. All the while Miles talked to him, mostly reminiscing about their childhood together. He was glad to have his friend back, but a part of him held back because he knew it was just a matter of time before Miles pulled the rug out from under him again and withheld his friendship again. He wanted his friend back so badly, but he was so tired of being hurt by him.

When Gene declared his work done, Charlie could tell Miles wanted a moment alone with Bass to talk. She went out with her Grandfather to talk and thank him…and to no doubt explain to him why she was dressed in only Bass' shirt.

After a few minutes, Miles walked out and Charlie hugged him, thanking him for coming back and bringing her grandpa. She looked at him hoping for some insight into what had been discussed between the two men inside, but got none. She went inside while her uncle and grandfather left and found that Miles and helped Bass into bed where he seemed to have already fallen asleep.

She closed the wooden and chain link doors, stoked the fire, turned down the lamps, and crawled into bed. She kissed him on the forehead, then the cheek. Then the lips. He then stirred so she kissed him again and asked how he was doing.

"I'll live."

"Are you and Miles OK?"

"I don't know. He was making an effort, but all I could think was I wonder how long this will last before he takes it away again. I don't know if I can live like that. I don't know if I want to live like that." He looked so worried and alone. But he also looked so tired.

"Get some sleep. And you don't have to live like that alone. You have Connor. And it appears you have me, too."

Neither knew how long this would or could last, but at least there were no signs of game playing in this relationship. They both always knew where they stood with each other. And though neither verbalized it, each made a silent promise as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, that's the way it would always be.