I continued the thing... Not very well, but...

The blonde wiped the sweat building on her brow, wondering how it could be so hot in Texas, even in March. She thought moving into the Northern portion of the state would gain her a reprieve from the humid weather, but she'd been wrong. She didn't know how she was going to stand the summer months, especially this time around.

"You're going to wear yourself out, honey." Christine said, sliding a box next to the one Charlie just loaded into the wagon. Charlie ignored the critical side-eye the doctor gave her.

"I'm fine and you know it." She said, shuffling the boxes around in the wagon in an effort to stop them from jiggling during the ride. "Besides, I'm pregnant, not dying."

"Yes, well. You work too hard."

Charlie laughed, rolling her eyes at her adopted mother figure. She may pick at the older women, but deep down her worrying warmed Charlie's heart. It had taken a few months, but she'd gotten used to the women's mothering. It was different from the family life she was used to, but it was welcomed. When Charlie stumbled into town five months before she was carrying a broken heart and shattered dreams. Christine had plucked her up, and began nursing her back to normalcy. Charlie owed her everything, and for the first time in years she'd really begun to have hope in the future.

"I'm going now." She said, squeezing Christine's arm as she passed to the front of the wagon. With slow, but smooth movements she hoisted herself up into the wagon's bench, snapping up the reigns and giving them a quick whip.

"Don't be late for dinner!" The women called after her. Charlie gave a quick wave in answer, her eyes already focused on the path before her.

Christine's house was only a ten-minute walk from town. However, the load Charlie was carrying was much to heavy to take on her own. Once a week she delivered remedies to the sick and injured in town in an attempt to make Christine's job easier. Most people knew the basics of medicine, and tried to only call on the old women when the issue was serious.

Charlie enjoyed the work. She'd learned a bit from the grandfather over the past year, but mostly with wounds. Christine was giving her a crash course in family medicine, hoping she'd take over for her in the future. It wasn't a life Charlie would mind, in fact, the silly dreams she thought were lost when Bass rejected her were somehow falling into place. He was the only missing piece.

"Hey, Charlie..." Rick said, striding up to her wagon as she rolled past his bar. She pulled the horses up short, as he came to stand beside the wagon, giving her a hesitant smile. Rick was always a warm jovial man, ready with quick words and a shot to ease your pain. She'd made friends with him early on in her stay in town.

She tilted her head, narrowing her gaze a bit. "What is it?"

He chuckled, his smile growing. "You busy today?"

She sighed; knowing whatever he was about to ask was going to consume her attention for the rest of the day. With a role of her eyes she waved her hand for him to continue.

"I gotta drunk in there..."

"So throw so water on him. That is not my problem." She cracked the reigns to move the horses onward, but Rick stopped her short, grabbing the horse's bridle. Treating sick locals was one thing, but wandering drunks...

"Look, I know its not. But he's been passed out for almost twelve hours now. He's wheezin' and coughin' painfully. Somethin's clearly wrong with him —"

"Okay." She cut him off. "Let me finish my rounds and I'll drop back by, see what I can do."

"Thanks, kid!" He called after her, dust kicking up around his feet.

—

Her rounds went quickly, the warmer weather taking with it the winter sickness. The next round of ailments to tackle would be sinuses, but the rainy spring weather should keep that at bay for a few more weeks. Her body ached as she pulled up at Ricks bar, her pregnant body not handling a hard days work well. She was just entering her third trimester, but it seemed like over night that things had gotten more difficult.

"You made it." Rick said as she pushed open the bar door. He hurried from behind the counter, resting a warm hand on her shoulder.

"You're getting' bigger by the day, kid." He joked, poking a stubby finger at her belly. Charlie rolled her eyes, shaking him off with a gentle shove.

"I could say the same for you." She snarked back, poking a finger at his bulging gut.

The older man laughed, grabbing at her finger. "Always so mean to me."

"You deserve it!" One of the regulars hollered, earning a deeper chuckle from the man in question, as well as a few of the patrons.

"So the patient?" She asked as their laughs settled down.

"Yeah, this way." He said leading her towards the back of the bar. "He came in a few nights ago, right at the end of those stormy days. My guess is he got stuck in it and the symptoms are just settlin' in."

"Look at you, a regular Doctor."

"Yeah," He added gruffly, before pointing a hand towards a corner booth. "There he is."

Charlie turned her head, the smile on her face falling in an instant. A gust of air left her lips, knees weakening as she gazed upon his stupidly familiar jacket and his stupidly familiar curly hair. Even in the low light of the bar she could tell his tan skin was too pale, and cheeks too rosy.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, girl. You alright?"

"I'm fine." She whispered, stepping closer to Bass's sleeping form. She pressed a hand to his forehead, pushing back his matted curls. His skin was clammy, and even in the loud bar she could hear the wheezing in his lungs.

"You said he's been like this for half a day?"

"Somewhere around there... Drunk himself into a stupor before passing out. So what you thinkin', kid?"

"Pneumonia, maybe? I need to get him out of here. Could you help me get him into the wagon?"

"Sure thing, Charlie. Whatever you need."

—

Every part of him burned, his skin tight, and sticky. With every breath, pain shot through his chest, mucus deep in his lungs itching like sliding slugs. His eyes fluttered behind his lids, searching for the power to open them. With a groan he shifted, forcing them open to the dark night.

Confusion settled in on him slowly, unsure of where he was, or how he'd gotten there. The roof and walls around him were a pale white, covering the fractured and aging walls. In the corner sat the only other furniture, an empty crib, covered in shadows.

The door to the room cracked open with a quite squeak. A blurry-eyed Bass strained his neck, eyes loosing focus as he looked across the room. The air in his lungs caught at the vision that walked through the door, a violent cough leaving his lungs at the lack of air. As he struggled to breathe he knew she couldn't be real. She was dream he swore to himself.

He'd spent months looking for her, knowing the minute he woke he'd made a horrible mistake. She was untraceable, as if she'd disappeared from the planet. He'd nearly given up hope of ever finding her, taking the punishment he was handed for being such a cold-hearted bastard. He couldn't be this lucky. She was a dream and nothing more.

A cool cloth ran across his forehead as his heaves calmed. His eyes still struggled to focus, the fever too strong to fight.

"Charlotte." He whispered to the darkness, before loosing the fight.

—

Charlie sat by Bass's side, her fingers running over the rough ridges of his limp hand. It was so large compared to hers, strong even when his muscles were lax. She flexed it against her own, so small in comparison. With a sad smile she imagined those hands holding their child, a tiny thing, safe in its father's arms. With a stuttering breath she placed his palm against her stomach, his hot skin warming her flesh. Their child was becoming more active by the day, and kicked out at the hand, reaching for Bass as if it knew. Charlie smiled wide and deep, her eyes watering at the sight. With a shaking hand she wiped the traitorous tears that fell, hoping this wasn't the only interaction they would ever have.

He'd made it clear, his opinion on her, and she'd come to terms with that. It had taken her months, but she'd accepted it, and begun to think of him in obscure terms — simply a sperm donor for their child. But here he was, bursting back into her life and throwing everything off kilter; shattering the lies she'd made herself believe. She wanted to hate him for that. But as she watched him lie before her sick and weak, she couldn't muster the anger.

The man in questions shifted in his sleep, a raw wheeze breaking his lips. She pulled herself together, placing his hand back on the mattress gently.

"He looks better." Christine said from the doorway as she stepped into the dark room. Charlie nodded, leaning over to nervously check the IV in Bass's other arm.

Christine knew their history, knew the war waging within Charlie's heart. It hurt her to see the girl she viewed as a daughter so flustered and self-conscious. She didn't care how many men Sebastian Monroe had killed, if he broke Charlie again she would break him.

"You should get some sleep Charlie. You've been up all night."

"I'm fine." She insisted, her eyes not leaving Bass's sleeping form. The older women sighed, walking to Charlie's side.

"Well here." Christine held out a jar to her. "This will help with his cough."

Charlie took out the offered item, screwing off the top. Her nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of the paste. "Thanks."

"You know..." Christine started, watching as Charlie began gently rubbing the creamy mixture across the sick man's chest. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Christine."

"I know. You're a smart girl, just... Don't let him hurt you again. I don't think I have the strength to put you back together."

Charlie paused, turning back to look at her, eyes watering at the memories. "Thank you. For everything."

Christine exited the room, leaving Charlie in the quite. Bass's heavy breathing and coughs were the only noise. With tender care she returned to her task of rubbing the vapor rub across his upper chest, listening intently for changes in his breathing. As she worked her eyes trailed across his skin, taking in the details she'd forgot. A few new scars decorated his body and she selfishly wanted to know how he'd gotten them. What had he been doing for the six month's they'd been apart. Was he as miserable as she had been, or had he managed to move on?

"Charlotte?" Her eyes snapped up at the sounds of his scratchy voice, catching his crystal blue eyes. They focused in on her, loosing some of the haziness from the hours before. She let out a gust of air. "Bass" She breathed into the night like a prayer.

"Charlotte." He said again, this time grabbing her hand as if to make sure she was real. He gripped it tightly, running his thumb around her wrist, feeling her pulse beneath its pad. "I thought I was hallucinating."

She swallowed shaking her head, unable to make a sound for fear of bursting out in tears. He looked her up and down; still fearful she'd disappear. Gradually he seemed to notice the changes in her body, his brow furrowing.

"You're pregnant." He stated, eyes blinking in shock. Charlie bit the inside of her check, trying to hold back every emotion she was feeling behind a stony façade. She nodded minutely, to his words. "Is it mine?"

She opened her mouth, but her words stuck in her throat.

"Is it mine?" He asked again, voice raw with the demand. He was fearful of what her answer would be, not knowing what he would do if she said no.

"Do you want it to be?" She whispered, trying to hold back the hope that was there in her words.

"What kind of question is that?"

Charlie turned her head away at the frustration in his voice, face crumbling as her tears began to fall — the veil of rejection slipping back over her body like an old friend. She couldn't do this again.

"Charlie?" He asked softly, reaching toward her with hesitant hands. Gently he pulled her chin to face him, cursing himself as he saw the grief in her eyes.

"Yes." She rushed out in desperation, waiting for his inevitable rejection. She was ready for it, another bullet to her too caring heart.

"We're having a baby?"

"You...?"

"I made a mistake." He said, gripping her hand with a tight, comforting squeeze. Her eyes widened in disbelief, tears falling harder at her bewilderment. She trembled with shock, feeling as if she were in a dream. "I never should have let you go. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but damn it I'm asking for it."

He leaned forward, pressing his face against her golden mane. His other hand came to rest boldly upon her stomach. "Please forgive me, my beautiful girl."

"Do you mean it?"

Bass moved back, thumbing her chin in his direction gently. She looked hesitant, fearful almost of what he might say. He was a bastard for putting that uncertainty there.

"I'm not leaving, Charlotte. Whatever you are willing to give me I will selfishly take."

Charlie wrapped her arms around him, fingers tangling into his dark curls, pressing herself cheek to cheek with the man she loved. She wanted to say so many things, but her heart hurt with fear that her words would scare him away. That he would vanish, his words lies on the wind.

Breathing him in, she sighed through her tears. "Stay. Just stay."

So yeah... I think that's it for this one. I have some other ideas floating around so maybe you'll see more from me in the future.

XOXO