Cross-posted from AO3 (as usual). I almost view this as a spin off of Revolution, as Bass and Charlie take on new roles facing a new (and markedly more science fiction-y) menace. I guess you could figure out what's going on here without having read Constant, but I wouldn't really advise it. It's going to be a little different from my normal writing fare, I suppose. Hope you like it.

After that fateful day on the bridge, the next few months were spent mopping up the last resilient Patriot footholds. But with their plots foiled and their true nature exposed, California and Texas both eagerly joined in the hunt. Less than three months after Bass's sacrifice, the khaki stain on American history had been entirely expunged.

The nanites had started as a problem, but something about the sudden success of the resistance movement seemed to make them find new faith in their creators. As if the desire to end the fighting was a twist they hadn't anticipated. They'd returned Priscilla's control of her body in short order and seemed to have taken the role of a silent observer once again. They didn't restore the power, but they no longer interfered in people's day to day lives. For all they could tell, the nanotech's experiments and attempts at playing God had ceased.

The populace in general and the extended Matheson family itself did their best to settle down. It was easier for some than for others. Charlie in particular seemed to feel antsy and restless all the time, like another storm was coming, the mounting clouds just beyond the horizon. Everyone else chalked it up to the fact that she'd spent most of her adult life now fighting, and assumed it would just take her time to relax and adapt to the new way of life. Everyone, that is, except Aaron. He refused to ever mention it to another living soul, but he knew Charlie was right. Somehow he could just feel a new threat looming in the distance. He didn't know how he knew, but he could tell. The nano were scared. In all their experimentation and their rage, they'd either done something or they'd found something. Either way, Aaron doubted that their decision to regroup and take the past six months off were a coincidence. They'd made a tactical retreat, and he could only quake in his own personal horror at what they might be cooking up as a defensive weapon to use against something that scared an omnipotent technology that could cause anything with molecules to spontaneously combust at will. He just hoped that it was something he'd never have to encounter the likes of.

…..

One night, on the side of a west Texan hill and next to a deep gorge that not long ago been spanned by an enormous train trestle, a small swarm of green fireflies danced near the tree line.

A pair of eyes slowly blinked open and took a moment to adjust to fading dusk light and the shifting glow of the insect swarm. Just as the world above stopped spinning in a horribly disorienting fashion, the bulk of the green fireflies seemed to suddenly dart away. Curious eyes watched as a red firefly buzzed in a slow advance. As it approached, a number of the green fireflies reappeared and seemed to be attempting to block the crimson bug's path. Without even slowing down, the red firefly bore straight through the small cluster in its way, and the green fireflies instantly lost their glow and dropped dead to the dusty Texas ground. Unimpeded, the red firefly reached its target and settled on the section of artificially pigmented flesh exposed on the extremity of the newly woken figure. The red bug was studied momentarily, before a hand quickly smacked against flesh and crushed the glowing insect.

"The fuck?" Bass murmured, still slightly disoriented as he flicked the smashed firefly carcass from where it had landed on his encircled M tattoo, which had now somehow returned to his left forearm. Then he began swatting at the drove of green fireflies that had appeared at his side as soon as the red one had been squashed. They seemed to be inspecting the carcass where he'd flicked it a few feet away.

"They come in different colors now? How long have I been out, and what have Beardy McGee and his sexbot girlfriend been up to?" Bass talked to himself and shook his head, trying to get orientated. "Aww dammit. And who took my clothes? Miles! Are you out there? This isn't funny, man." As he stood and looked around fruitlessly for his clothes, Bass couldn't help but notice the little swarm of green fireflies following him.

"What do you want?" Bass posed the question angrily to the glowing bugs that he knew represented the nanotech. He spun instantly when he heard an unexpected voice from the trees behind him.

"I think they want our help. Well, yours at least."

Charlie stepped forward out of the shadows and tossed him a pair of jeans.

"What makes you think that?" He questioned as he pulled on the jeans that seemed a bit too tight and a few inches too long. They must be Miles's, he reasoned. He wondered why, if she'd taken the time to bring him pants, she hadn't thought to actually bring his. He also wondered why it wasn't weirder between them that she'd just walked up on him naked. Though that seemed to be the least important question at the moment.

"Because they told me to come out here to meet you. And to bring pants…" She shook her head slightly at the last part.

"And that's a big deal because?" Bass questioned.

"Because you've been dead for six months."