"Because no one else knows he's alive…because they are watching Rachel and Miles like hawks…because he is important to us…because he saved my life…"

For the hundredth, no the millionth time Charlie repeated the reasons why she was here to herself in a hushed tone so as not to wake the man sleeping in the room.

Do you even call that sleeping? She wondered. Or was he undead? She almost laughed thinking of happier times when they had been a family. Mom, Dad, Danny and her…the community had decided it would be good for the kids to celebrate Halloween that year. Danny had dressed up as a vampire. Funny how memories just snuck up on you out of nothing. A tangent thought, some offbeat remark and there you were with tears welling in your eyes, remembering the way he had smiled and ran around the house letting his cloak fan out behind him and laughing.

It made her want to kick Monroe in his damn head, made her want to kick him until he screamed, until he stopped screaming, until he really was dead.

But they were trusting her to keep him safe. They needed him…and he had saved her life.

She kept repeating that to herself as oil lamp on the old television set began to burn lower and came close to guttering out before she realized it. She took the stopper out of the hob nail patterned base and refilled it with oil. Blankets covered the windows to keep the light from being seen from outside. Not that they expected anyone to come searching the place for a dead man and a girl that no one knew was anywhere near Texas. The house had been ransacked for supplies years ago. No one should come stalking around out here. But Charlie had learned long ago to take precautions. Only once in a while her temper got the better of her good judgment.

Sebastian moaned weakly in his sleep…if that was what you called it…and she moved over to the side of the mattress where he lay and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders again. He was shivering. Trembling, too weak to so much as open his eyes and his clammy skin was chilled to her touch as she brushed a hand over his sweaty brow. Rachel had warned her that he'd be sick and weak for days. He'd been near dead from the injection and buried for almost six hours before he'd been dug up. No one was expecting him to leap to his feet and be brewing for a fight, come dawn's early light.

Charlie rose and gathered up the pitcher and bowl of fresh water that she had filled from a hand pump out in the yard. Next to it were her toiletries; a bar of soap, a wash cloth and towel. Nothing fancy, that was for sure. Charlie didn't really remember store bought scented soaps, or cosmetics really. Although she had seen some women wear them; but most of those women were whores. Even so she doubted that the makeup was the kind you used to find in a store.

She shook her head; her mind was filled with strange thoughts that night. She'd blame his company for that. Being alone with Monroe left her very uneasy. No wonder why her mind was coming up with such weird ideas.

She brought the bowl and washcloth over to the mattress and sat it down on the floor before coming to sit by his side. He moaned pathetically and shivered as she pulled the blanket down from his bare, dirt streaked chest.

"Oh, God…it's alright already. You're not dead, you're not going to die…your just…well…you were almost dead."

She shook her head and dunked the towel into the water and wrung it out before using it to start wiping the dirt off of his face. His eyelids did not so much as flutter but he seemed to slip back into a more peaceful rest at the feel of her touch on his cheek and along his jaw. Again she shook her head as she dipped the towel again and used it to wipe his neck and over one shoulder. Then it was the other shoulder and across his chest.

She didn't want to him to actually catch a chill so she paused there and dried his face, neck and shoulders before continuing to wash the grave dirt off of him. Her mind seemed to empty of all thought as she worked. The wet towel in her hand moving over the hard muscles of his chest, back up to his shoulders, down one arm to the elbow.

Sebastian was about the same age as Miles…Miles was a little younger than her Dad. She mused silently as her hand and the wet towel explored his flesh. It was not the first time she had seen him shirtless. Now she was just shirtless and half covered in dirt, but before it had been shirtless and bloody. Regardless of his physical condition, or how clean or not clean he was she had to admit Monroe had a very appealing physique. He was all lean hard muscle. Not a bit of fat on him as far as she had ever seen.

She dropped the wash cloth into the bowl again and picked up the towel to dry off the places on him she had made cleaner.

When you just considered the physical she could understand why women found him appealing. His features were chiseled, lips were soft, and his eyes…okay so his eyes were a fathomless oceanic blue that you could drown in if you stared to long. He'd have had a nice smile if he wasn't so cruel. But if he really were heartless why had he saved her life?

She'd wondered about that from the moment he had done it.

Sometimes she had to remind herself that he had also killed her brother Danny.

Sometimes when she looked at him, when he didn't realize she was looking, sometimes she almost forgot all the horrible things he had done to her, to her family, to others.

Having him lying there now, she could have forgotten. Maybe for a moment, an hour…a day…

She finished drying him off and went back to the wash cloth. Finishing both arms and hands and then lowering the blanket further to run it over the flat plain of his stomach. She marveled at how the small muscles of his defined abdomen reacted to her touch. She was so lost in the study of the play of all those muscles that she barely heard the small moan that escaped his lips. It registered in a faraway place distant from her musings and when she turned to look at him her palm was flat on his stomach and her fingers were wide spread over his abs. Her hand remained resting there. But she paused and was motionless except for the turn of her head until she realized that he might have felt her touch, but he wasn't really coherent. He reacted to it. But he didn't know who was touching him, or why.

She stared at him and let her fingertips trace the lines of his muscles and listened as soft sounds escaped his lips in response to her touch.

Humans liked to be touched. Especially when they were hurt or sick. Misery loved company. Did the fact that he could suffer and take solace form her touch make the monster Monroe nothing more than a human?

"Are you Bass? Were you human once? The way that I was a little girl? What happened that changed you into a monster?"

She shook the thought form her head long enough to dry his stomach and sides off. She was not removing his pants and she was too tired to consider rolling his dead weight over to wash his back for him. She had more than done her good deed for the day she figured. So she pulled the blankets up and tucked them in around him again before moving to take the bowl and towels back to the dresser where she had left the pitcher.

Her hands were shaking. How odd…she must really be exhausted she figured. She poured herself a cup of the fresh clean water from the pitcher and drank it down in one long series of swallows. She stood there for a moment before refilling the cup and bringing it over to where he lay.

This time she crouched at the head of the bed and set the cup on the floor. If she started questioning herself she'd stop what she was doing so she forced the thoughts of why's and who's and such from her head. More gently than she would have considered possible considering the man she was caring for; she lifted his head and shoulders and brought them into her lap so that he was propped up just enough to drink.

She didn't know if he could hear her or not but she explained herself regardless.

"You need to drink something or you'll get dehydrated. It's already been half a day since you had water or food…so we're going to try this. Just try to take a few sips. We need you better…you owe us big time for saving your sorry ass."

She reached for the cup and placed it at his lips and tilted it so that the barest trickle reached his mouth. She wanted him to drink not drown after all.

Although if she thought about it too much she might change her mind about that.

Just when she was ready to take the cup away and wipe his mouth Sebastian took a small, pathetically weak sip..and then a few more. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing for certain. It gave her some small amount of hope that her nursing skills wouldn't be needed for as long as Rachel believed. Bass was a tough son of a bitch, which should work in his favor.

"That was good. Really, good. In a few hours we'll try for some more. But for now I need to sleep."

She laid him back on the mattress gently and checked to make sure the blankets were covering him to his chin before she moved away and headed over to turn the lamp down for the night to conserve their oil. She decided to bring it over to the bed roll so that if he needed her before dawn she wouldn't be tripping over things in the dark trying to get to him. As she turned with the lamp in hand it cast its muted glow over the man huddled on the lumpy mattress in the center of the room. The shadows were dark under his eyes; partially a trick of the light and partially from whatever sickness lingered after the injection. He also had more than a smattering of cuts and bruises on him as he hadn't been taken without a good fight.

"He was always good for a fight…well except maybe for now."

And he was shaking again, shivering even with the blankets drawn up to his chin.

"Christ sake, am I ever getting to sleep?"

Charlie sighed and shook her head, scuffed off her boots and removed her belt before snatching up her bed roll and bringing it over to the dingy thread barren mattress and laying out bed roll beside Sebastian. She turned the wick down to low and set it down on her side of the 'bed' before climbing in beside him and drawing her blanket up over herself and whatever of him it would cover. She knew that if she tried to sleep away from him she'd be worried about him all night, and not get a bit of rest.

He was practically in a coma anyway so she could deny this ever happened.

She pressed herself up beside him and let her arm rest over his chest. After a few moments he stopped shaking and she let her eyes close and drifted off to sleep at his side.