Three days after Austin, Willoughby

Connor knew he was being a jerk to Charlie. He knew. Even after what she did for him, for his dad in Vegas, risking her own life to get them both out with fierce loyalty to their little group there. But he couldn't. Something was twisting inside of him, dark jealousy that made him want to distance himself from everyone, as old nightmares and flashbacks returned to him.

His mom that had let him go, given him away to Miles and a new life.

Nunez who had seen him like a son, promised him a life, a future, a line in his cartel, in his life, that would draw the lines of his life.

His dad, who came, told the truth, asked him, begged him to make a life in Vegas, right before they both thought he would die. He had made him promise to get the Republic back, to give it all some meaning. Only the past months, his dad, and his republic felt further than ever and Connor was started to think, doubt, why his dad ever made him promise that.

Miles. Rachel. Icy looks, barely being tolerated.

It was like the strong stubborn dark jealousy made him unable to move.

So when Miles went missing, and his dad,Rachel and Charlie moved out, he had not joined them. He couldn't.

Miles had been missing for two days now, and he had seen the worry all over her face. He had seen it in her face when she left camp with his dad and her mother right after sunset.

'Go find your Boyfriend.' Those were the words he had thrown in his father's face, fired by jealousy of the bound between his dad and Miles that was there, so effortlessly, even during time.

And then there was Charlie. Since she knew about him wanting that Republic, she had distanced herself from him. He was not sure about how she felt anymore, but he started to really like her in this mess. She had skills, she knew how to take care of herself. But after Austin, after Miles turned that corner while dragging her along, he had seen a part of her he never saw before.

Hollow.

Guilt.

The ride back was silent, long as Charlie's stillness pressed on all of them

Her eyes facing the ground, her tank soaked with blood, six-pack nowhere to be seen.

He had not talked to her since then, simply because he did not know what to say to her, what on earth could he say, as she had curled up, walked in silence with a painful grim expression on her face which had normally had such outstanding features'. He had watched her every now and then, after they had been walking back to camp when Miles created a diversion when they ran into those rangers on their way back, bonoculairs in his hand as he had spotted trouble coming their way. But she had closed of, as they kept on going, reaching the camp, with her feet behind him and his dad.

It had been hours before sunset on the second day when he saw her walk back into camp. Alone. He moved away from the wall he had been meaninglessly leaning against, and when she got closer he was not sure if he saw panic or relieve in her eyes. She looked pale, unfocussed. She had been crying When her eyes focussed on him, he felt a cold wave going through him.

She kept on walking into the building behind her.

He looked with sharp lines in his face into the fire, as he realised he could not just leave her there on her own. Something was off, was wrong. Panic and that look in her eyes, ate at him.

He walked into the abandoned structure, the rooms empty and cold. Finding her in the corner, near old cabinets, almost ready to move out again.

'Charlie, I'm sorry, but I don't think you are going to find him. Whatver happened to him, if he could have gotten out, Miles would have found a way.'

'You see this.' Charlie moved some hair out of her face. He looked at the bruised skin on her forehead. 'That is from Neville's gun shoved in my face.'

Connor swallowed something away, Charlie let out a bitter smile before she talked on, her shocking story coming to live before his eyes.

'And just as he was about to pull the trigger, my whole body started to scream, I don't want to die.' She fought back tears, that were now pooling in her eyes. Remembering, going through it again, now she was standing with Connor in this empty room. Her face cold with the water she just splashed in her face.

'But he pulled that trigger, nowhere for me to go, and it was empty.' She cried, focussing on her words as Connor's eyes filled with tears too.

She did not know why she kept on talking. But he was here. He was. Connor, who was now understanding, listening, there.

Her mother wasn't. Miles wasn't. Nobody else seemed to have time for her walked up to talk to her, finding her. No one but him. Connor's eyes on her, as the start of tears were in his eyes, that were in her own.

'I don't think I deserve it, but somehow I get to know what tomorrow looks like. And no matter what it looks like, Miles is there.'

He looked at her, while she looked at him. She moved her hands, the cloth in there drying some water and sweat from her heated skin as she let the tears move back. Her hands shaking barely visible, on the table before her.

Connor had observed and had asked himself who was noticing her.

He walked over to her, pressing her against him, as his arms circled around her. She fought him, before she gave in. His hands always seemed to feel so strong on her back, his tall frame in front of her. She felt him, Connor. here. His jaws somewhere pressed against her head. Connor felt her smaller body against his, her dark blonde curls under his arms. Connor wanted to move, wanted to reach out more, hold her longer, stand still with her there, but she would not let him. he watched her turn, turn away from him, as he watched her walk out of the room.

Camp

Nightfall came, as his dad ate something around a fire. Rachel sat by her dad and Charlie was nowhere to be seen. He might have an idea. He shook his head, putting his own plate on the ground. He had to check on her, knowing what she had been through. he had just told his dad, who had looked shocked as well.

He found her in the same room as he had found her earlier. But this time, not in front of a bucket, splashing water in her face, and talking about that desperate moment. She was slouched down,a gainst the wall. His boots hit the ground as he closed the distance. Her shoulders were moving with her tears.

Charlie had fought the tears back. But here they were, another day to an end, no Miles. Day three was in sight, and her world felt so empty without him. Everybody was so busy, caught up in their own fears. Her mom. Bass. She understood, but at the same time she felt invisible, like she was screaming in a room filled with pain without anyone to notice her.

When she lost the battle she needed isolation, not wanting vanybody in, the cold room with harsh walls perfect for her sorrow and tears she did not want anybody else to see.

She knew it was Connor, but she could not look up. Her face hurt, bruises, tears. She was cold. Tired.

Connor looked at her, making a decision. Without talking, he sat down next to her, his back against the wall as Charlie felt so cold, even from where he was sitting. He did not speak, she did not speak. Silent tears were now on her cheeks. And then he slowly moved an arm around her.

Charlie felt the tall frame of Connor next to her. His arm moving around her, over her shoulders and back. He felt warm, and steady. She cried, cried for what she had lost and was about to lose. She had been so strong for so long, but right now, she had reached the end of that road.

Connor still did not talk, as he felt how Charlie slowly shifted, without even thinking about it. Her face ended up close in the hollow at his shoulder as he moved one arm and hand over her knee. Sitting there, with her, feeling her endless desperate pain, there somwhere in Texas in an old abandoned factory, against a cold wall.

5 days later, camp outside Willoughby

Eventually, they did find Miles, although barely alive. His father had been a worried out of his damn mind, with an intensity in his eyes, starin at the Rachel and Gene took care of him.

And Charlie, Connor watched her. He was sure she was thinner, paler, harder. He hated to see her change. She was constantly on her feet. Hunting, taking care of everybody else, but herself. Things between them were weird. They were not what they had been right after Vegas, but she did not turn him away completely. Connor pushed himself up from where he had been sitting, cleaning some of the weapons as she came into sight. His dad's eyes on him and then on Charlie.

'Hey, can we talk?' he asked her, as she looked at him. She looked at him. Not speaking.

'You all right?' he simply said, as Charlie looked up at him now.

'Connor, I am fine,' she shook her head, pushing her face into a indifferent one, not wanting to listen to him. She could not listen to somebody asking her if she was all right. Not after what she did in Austin. It was too much, it was like a part of her screamed she did not deserve that, from anyone anymore.

'You are not okay Charlie.' Connor said to her, force in his voice.

'I have to go, check up on Miles.'

He watched her sway on her feet for a moment as she regained her balance. Always, she was always taking care of everybody else,even after everything that had happened. Miles busy, her mom busy with Miles. Her grandpa busy. What about her. She was pale, hardly ate anything.

'And who is taking care of you?' Connor almost yelled at her.

Charlie turned around abruptly.

'Nobody. Because I don't need somebody to take care of me. I can take care of myself.'

'You don't mean that. Everybody needs somebody sometimes. Even you.' His words were gentler now, as a part of his heart broke for her, as her eyes were still piercing in his.

Miles had walked towards them, just as Rachel as they were drawing a crowd. Bass stood closely too. As she and Connor faced each other in the middle of camp.

When she spoke again, she heard the bitterness in her own voice, the hurt, the pain. Connor was touching something she did not want him to touch.

Matheson meeting Monroe.

'Wake up Connor, People leave, people die. That's the way it is. I told you, instead of hope, I choose to be realistic.'

Connor watched how his father cursed something under his breath. His dad's eyes were on her for a moment, and Connor realised that although his father had been keeping his distance from her since Vegas, he actually seemed to care about her. He watched it in his dad's eyes, as she boldly bitterly spoke to him

'Everything all right over here.' Rachel asked.

Charlie sighed something away, as her mother used that sugar sweet voice that did not suit the most scary woman she had ever met. She felt her skin react to her voice.

'Everything is fine mom,' she warned her. The last thing she needed were more unasked looks and opinions.

'Kid, you all right?' Miles asked, shocked by her words and a outburst he rarely saw with her.

Charlie sighed in frustration, feeling cornered by so many looks as she straightened her shoulders.

'I'm fine, just give me space.' She said flatly. She was not all right, but she did not need everyone to constantly remind her of that. So she turned, adjusting her knife.

Connor wanted to follow her but he felt the hand of his dad on his elbow.

'Let her be for now, kid.' His eyes were serious, but his tone was surprisingly gentle. Connor watched her walk away, while Bass followed her with his eyes.

Connor waited. Until nightfall and she sat by herself around a fire. Miles' and Rachel's eyes on her. Her words in his head. The bitterness, the hurt. Something he knew so well himself, reflecting in her. He was not giving up like that.

He grabbed some food, two plates. He walked to her slowly as he did not speak. He held up the plate before her.

She looked up at him, looking so tired. She accepted the plate. Hoping he would not take, because she simply couldn't. She was not hungry, she rarely was anymore with guilt there to fill her instead, the image of Jason's last moment haunting her.

Slowly she started to eat, as Connor sat next to her and did the same. Until she could not anymore, too tired.

Connor looked at her, his face serious, his mind filled with worry. He looked at her, and then moved, away from his spot towards her. Moving her a bit, so he could sit behind her. She felt how Connor moved towards and behind her and he placed himself so she was in between his legs.

She felt his legs, strong, long, and the space he provided for her, to fall against, to move in as her back moved into his chest. His arms not far.

She fell asleep, her head on his left shoulder and upper arm, as she felt Connor's jaw on her right. His voice soothing her to sleep.

Two weeks later, just outside Willoughby.

Connor looked at Tom Neville. His face dripping with cold hate and loathing. He was on a roof with Scanlon and Neville. Waiting for the patriot president to move out of Willoughby, into their way. Doubt had been filling his thoughts. Power. Control. That Republic. Knowing if no one wants to be on his side, he will be on that side alone. It's better than needing anyone, caring for anyone. It's safer.

Too much broken promises. Too much people left. Too much people left him, leaving him, alone. Invisible.

'Boy, what are you doing.' Neville's cold voice, 'keep you head in the game.'

Connor nodded at him, his eyes dark. As more doubt moves in. His dad left him behind, his eyes on him from the wagon were Charlie, Gene and Miles were sitting on. His dad had a piss duscussion with Miles, things blew up and he had left the group with Scanlon and his dad. They had walked into Neville, the man shoving a knife in his throat. They would steal the train, Miles and Charlie stole, and drive the gas in there to DC. That was the plan. Until his dad sided with Miles, again.

They heard shots that shook him out of his toughts. Rushed over. Finding the convoy where the president should have been empty.

His dad. Miles. Charlie. Connor just knew.

They tracked them back down. Finding his dad with Charlie near a well, outside a shed. The wagon empty, empty beause he watched with Scanlon and Neville how they moved Davis inside of there.

Walking up to his dad was difficult.

The walls between loyalty, and love for his dad, and wanting him to be his family and the other wall pressing against him, the wall that is covered by that one promise, the Republic, the solution to never being alone, to being something, defined by the lines of that Republic.

'I am not alone.' Connor told them both, 'You have five minutes.'

'Why?' Bass asked.

'Because I asked them too.' Connor said, his eyes now on Charlie for a while. Charlie can feel they are not alone, Charlie can feel the battle in Connor and how much this is ripping Bass apart.

Bass knew, knew Nevillewould be there, this time not ripping his Republic away like in the tower, but also his son.

'Connor, please, just come with me.' Bass looked at him, with almost desperation in his eyes. Connor can't take that in. It's too much.

'Let's take the president, kill him, put a dent in the east coast. I am your blood. You told you told me to get that Republic back. I left my live behind for you. Another life, after my mom ditched me. Threw my life there away.'

Charlie heard the almost desperate tone, tears in Bass' voice as she sees as vulnerable as she had ever seen him. This is new, and it moves something inside of her.

'Connor, I know it has been hard. I know Emma loved you so much. And if I had known about you, I would have come for you in a heartbeat.'

Charlie heard Miles in her head, but she was not able to stay quiet.

'Connor, you can't do this. You can't choose any Republic out there over him. Not after what he was willing to do for you in Vegas.'

She could feel Bass react, from beside her.

Both of them feel that time is running out, as Connor's face turns into a mixture of angry tears and hurt, so much hurt.

'I will always be on your side Connor. But you have to decide if you want that. I have to deliver that son of a bitch to our meeting point, or else everything will go to hell.' His dad's voice is low and husky, Bass felt the shift uphill. his eyes wide and sad at the same time. Then all hell broke loose, as Charlie and his dad barely got away with Davis.

He has to decide. He watched how his dad got on the wagon with Charlie, Davis in the back. He could not move. He was not ready as he watched them leave.

Bass drove away from his kid, dammit. His hand over his face, pushing back tears. He is gratefull Charlie is quiet, although he knew she had seen his damn tears. Her words, her support. She is something else. The miles he had to drive away from his kid are amongst the hardest ones of his life.

One week later, Ranger camp, 2 pm.

Charlie just talked to Miles as she sees him. He walked into camp, unsure, his eyes so lost, dark, fighting before another fight broke loose. His shoulders low. His rhythm an almost dark one. She pushed herself up.

Before Connor realised what happened, her arms were around his neck, as she jumped into him, covering for the height difference, grabbing on to him. Stunned, he placed one of his hands on her back to steady her, while he felt her heartbeat against his chest.

Here she was, one soft sob or release or harsh breath, he was not sure, in his neck. He embrace was , just like her, strong.

He could not do anything, but place one of his hands on her shoulder blade. Confused, that somebody was there, as he was not sure what to expect. Somebody noticed him, and not only noticed him, but welcomed him back.

The ring, he once got in a small town over the border, symbol for his mom, a tangible reminder of her,and it had been there since that day, now on his finger, as it pressed into the cool of her leather jacket as he took in the scent of her hair. She would not let go, for now. So he did the same.

Charlie had surprised herself at her own reaction. But when Connor walked back in, she had realised how much a part of their group he had become. How much he had her back when she needed it, and the rest was too busy with their own crap. But most of all, she knew what it was like to leave her family behind. The burden on her neck and shoulders, as she once left her family after the tower, walking, alone, solitude, loneliness. She knew, when she came back with Bass, that nothing had changed, that family was family, difficult, hard, impossible sometimes, but always there. Always true. She was glad for Bass, who had been a miserable form of himself since he did what had to be done, but costing him his son. It changed the way she viewed him, along with all the other good things he had done for her. Turning him back into the man she once knew, who was welcome in her home, an extension of Miles, someone to look forward to.

Charlie was about to turn a corner to find her own tent, when she heard him. Bass. Behind her.

'Charlie,' his voice raspy. Low. Just like on that road they once stood on, and he had told her he would come back with her. A world away.

'Hey,' she nodded at him, unsure what to say, to do, to expect.

'Thanks, for what you said to Connor.' He looked at her, with those blue eyes. And for a moment they stood there.

'Yeah,' she nodded, a rare conversation between the two of them.

She nodded a quick nod, preparing to move on.

'Charlie, are you okay?'

He knew it was a fucking stupid question after everything.

'I am, Bass.' She used his name for the first time, and it was all right. She was far from all right, but she was okay, because she was not alone in this.

His eyes lit up in recognition by his name.

'Good.' He nodded, a smile on his face.

'Good?' She raised her eyebrow at him.

And then he was rarely open with her.

'Yeah, I hate to see all that fire you had as a stubborn firing four year old go. 'I know things have been hard for you Charlie. I know how much we all fucked up. ' There it was, the almost sad look in his eyes.

She stood there, nodded at him.

She nodded. He nodded.

'Well, I am off to grab some food. And I kind of went to get there before Miles does.' Charlie said, as Bass was going through the hair on the back of his head.

She smirked.

'Well, we better get going than. Miles can eat.'

And just like that, they walked, together, shoulder by shoulder.

Connor sat down in front of a fire. It were not easy days, hurt, pride, ego, the past. It all had to be overcome, with a new start with his dad. Charlie showed him, to fight for family, even with his dad. If she could that, made a start, letting him in, then Connor realised, he could too. He realised there with Neville, with the mistake of his life he almost made, he wanted too.

He was close to stop the endless stray anymore, settle, find a place, trust this place. Maybe even trust the people.

'Hungry?' She simply said, a plate in front of his nose. She smirked at him, her blue eyes soft.

He nodded, accepted the place. Not much later his dad walked over, sitting on his other side.

'That looks good.' Bass said, his voice low, looking at Charlie who rolled her eyes at him. She sighed but gave him another plate, Bass nodded at her with a short nod of gratitude, and she answered him with her own in recognition.

Both men on her left started to attack, father and son, shoulder to shoulder as she was finally able to start on her own plate.

'And, that looks good.' Miles said with sarcasm as he stole some dried fruit from her plate.

'Hey!' Charlie protested, as Miles sat down on her right, earning a chuckle and grinn from Connor and Bass.

The sun set, as the fire gave more warmth and colour to them. At the end of the hour, her mother and grandpa had joined them. The camp was preparing itself for the night, as murmurs of drinks and talking spread through the maze of the tents.

Connor was not at ease, not expecting this.

He watched how Bass bumped him in the shoulder with his own. Both men exchanging a look. Connor watched pride in his dad's eyes, something gentle that was normally not there. He looked back at Bass, the man that was his father, but became his father, nodding at him.

And then, he felt Charlie's leg touching his knee.

'Good to see you again Connor.' She said, not blinking, a look between a grin and a smile.

'Yeah yeah,' Miles said, already uncomfortable with this mooshy shit.

Maybe the straying was over, maybe he had found a group of people, that he could settle with, even though the war would take them probably far. Maybe a home, a family was not something that was settled, in one place. Maybe it were a group of people, around a fire, with food, a drink. That would sit with you, even if you had darkness in you, like all of them, that saw you, but still accepted you, welcomed you back.

And her, Charlie. Friend, family. Maybe more. He did not know. But for now, her acceptance, her stubbornness, her capability of second changes, grounded him, made him want to stay, look in her eyes and share her wide grin, as she looked at him.

Miles gave him a drink, the bottle in his hand before he gave the bottle to Charlie. Her hands touching his for a moment, fingers meeting his fingers.

'To family, Connor.' She nodded.

'To family.' He nodded back.

That night he fell asleep in his sleeping bag, Miles and his dad softly talking . Charlie asleep next to him, as her face was relaxed and she was curled up close to him as the night moved on. He felt the small picture in the inside of his pocket. Emma. His mom.

His thoughts went to her, and then to the man that could tell him more about her, who she was, who they had been.

Before he got up, he readjusted the blanket that was about to glide of Charlie, making sure she was warm. She slept through.

He sat down next to his dad. Neither of the two said that much as Connor shared a bottle at the fire.

Bass looked at his kid. They day he found him and they walked back to Willoughy felt so long ago. After today, he was able to trust that maybe, Connor would stay, would find his place. He would never let his kid go. His son, his blood. His family.

The night moved on, the bottle between them, warm booze in their throats as they watched the flames. Father. Son.

When Connor was ready to get some sleep, as his father sat close to him, he moved slowly next to Charlie again, next to her. Before he fell asleep, he moved a lock of hair away from her temple, and he pressed a warm soft kiss on the skin there. She moved slowly in her sleep, opening her eyes for a moment, her hand on his cheek. He kissed her, as her warm lips allowed him, thanking her, for not going easy on him, for not being afraid to tell him the truth and for not giving up, on ayone, for not walking away, for everything.

The end

I wanted to thank the nice person who asked about this story, for taking the time to get in touch with me, and leaving messages about who you felt about the story. Thank you very much. I hope you enjoyed it! It was my pleasure writing! Love from Love